Welcome to Baker Street

13. Rush

After getting in the cab, Lestrade speaks tartly, "Sherlock, I need answers now. Why are we going to a newsroom? What's the story about a terrorist group? And who is this, by the way?" He points at the woman seated next to him.

"I'm Giulia, their new flatmate. Nice to meet you." She smiles and stretches her hand out in the crowded cabin, and Lestrade shakes it with a confused look.

"I wasn't expecting that, but I suppose this is a conversation for another time. Back to my first question: why are we going to the address John texted me?"

"We need to get to Cathy before they do," Holmes laconically replies.

"They? I'm done guessing," Lestrade breathes out, before adding in a pleading tone, "Sherlock, an explanation, please."

The detective quickly summarises his deductions, concluding five minutes later with, "Starting from the note the dead twin left for her sister, I deduced they used to work alternately for a newspaper. That's where we are going right now."

Greg is gaping so much that his jaw looks like it could fall down at any moment.

"So, that note was addressed to her sibling?"

"No, she wrote a love letter for her lover and romantically hid it under her cold, dead foot," Holmes ironically replies. "Of course, it was for her sister—an expert secret agent, the only person who could find it. Besides me," he says pridefully.

Lestrade sums up, "Let me understand: we are now heading to the newsroom that the sisters used as a front, hoping to find either Cathy or some kind of hidden message pointing to her hideout. But how exactly? She's an excellently trained agent and is hiding from expert killers. She could have simply disappeared."

Sherlock snaps back, "No, you've just said it: she is excellently trained, she knows what to do."

"Then why hasn't she tried to contact the Secret Service yet?" Greg protests.

"There is a mole in the MI6," Giulia answers promptly. "She can't communicate with them since she wouldn't know whether she is speaking with her rescuer or the mole that will get her killed. She cannot risk disclosing vital information on her whereabouts."

Sherlock casts a furtive glance at her. She is quite perceptive once she has enough information to work with. That is... good, useful, he reluctantly admits to himself.

The cab pulls over in front of a modern building, and they get off. Sherlock looks up at the offices, then turns to Greg.

"Here is where we must part ways."

"What are you talking about? I came all this way because I want to accomplish it with you."

"No, you came along because you needed answers, and you got them. Now you have better things to do," Sherlock replies, signalling the cabbie to wait.

"Better than saving a life?"

"How about saving a thousand?"

Lestrade scratches his head, more confused than ever. "I'm not following you."

Sherlock puts his hands on Greg's shoulders, forcing him to focus.

"Think, Inspector: you found all those plans in the dead woman's apartment, and we now know that a terrorist group killed a suspected traitor of the cell and is chasing after a secret agent of the MI6 who must possess some crucial information. What does it suggest to you?"

Greg flinches when a sudden thought crosses his mind like a shooting star.

"Imminent terrorist attack."

"You are in a dazzling form, Lestrade." Sherlock flashes him a crooked smile, then becomes serious again. "Contact Scotland Yard: do everything in your power to protect this city."

The D.I. stares into his face, trying to read his emotions and possible fears, but he only finds cold determination. He nods briefly and goes back to the cab.

At the last minute, he looks at them and paternally says, "Be careful, you three."