Consulting Sniper (Moran's Story)

Chapter 17: Shots Fired

I returned to the warehouse at noon that day. Almost immediately, I aimed to pay Jim a little visit.

"Is Moriarty here?" I asked his secretary. She was a 4'11 young girl, younger than me, and stick-thin. But I knew she was also double-jointed so she could get out of almost any sort of confined space. Which explains why she was mostly used by Jim for escape missions.

But she was mentioned before as well. She was the secretary I saw on what I consider to be my first mission ever. The one where I left the restaurant to get the case in the dark building across the street.

After that, she'd taken sort of a liking to me. She said I had guts, and was willing to do the heavy lifting that was sometimes required. I used to wonder whether or not she was actually right. I was never convinced she was.

"I don't know if Moriarty is here. I haven't seen him all day... You can go in and check, if you'd like. I don't think he'll care."

"Thanks, Becca."

"No problem," she responded, looking back down at her paperwork.

I turned the knob on Jim's office door slowly. I poked my head in to see him sleeping in his office chair.

Well, this is going to be awkward, I thought.

"Hey, boss?" I asked Professor Jim Moriarty, who was looking down at some papers on his desk. He took a stapler off said desk and threw it at the left wall. I think that's where he thought I was standing. I jumped out of the room and shut the door quietly again. Becca was still at the desk.

"Well, was he in there?" she asked me. "And what was that bang-noise?"

"Professor Moriarty is not ready to receive guests as of late," I stated matter-of-factly and walked away, my eyes still fixed on Becca. She appeared confused for a few seconds, then her eyes went wide. "Oh-h!" She exclaimed. I turned around again and left the vicinity, chuckling to myself.

I did not have to find Jim later. He came to call on me.

I heard a knock on my office door at about six at night. The sun was just beginning to go down, and I was about to leave for the day, but not before I finished throwing darts at the target on the side wall. These were the old fashioned darts with needle-point tips, not the new magnetic ones that kids use. These were for very informal target practice.

"Come in," I said to Jim as I scored another thirty points by hitting the center of the board. It was my last dart.

"Hey, Moran," Jim said to me, sitting in the chair in front of me. I swiveled in my chair to face my boss. "I am here for three reasons. I walked out of my office and Becca told me that I threw a stapler at you while I was sleeping."

"Oh yeah, that's right."

"Well, my first order of business is that I came to say I had no idea it was you." I guessed that was Jim's version of an apology. "And the second is to ask you what you came into my office for in the first place. You didn't tell Becca?"

"I guess I forgot to mention it... It's got to do with those names you asked me for."

"Stop right there, Sabrina. That's actually the third reason I wanted to talk to you."

"What, Mycroft and that sailor guy?"

"Exactly. Well, that sailor guy as you so aptly called him, pissed off a client of mine. You see, he's a lawyer. As is Mycroft, but I'll get to her in a minute. Thomas Saylor, esquire is a lawyer for one of the biggest firms in London."