Almost exactly two years after Reichenbach, in June 2037, I was playing cards at the club at 427 Park Lane. The lights were low and the air was musty, and the man that I was playing against was cheating at cards.
Ron Adair sat across from me at the poker table, and I saw the card that was shoved up his sleeve.
I was absolutely furious. I could not let Adair get away with this. I needed the victory money just as much as Adair did, if not more. I watched as he continued to deal cards.
This was a legitimate business. This Club was one of the few that was not part of the Underground. Adair was violating that trust. And I was even more pissed off that I wasn't the only who thought of it first! I made it obvious that I was looking at Adair's sleeve, and he glared at me. The game was nearly over, and I was winning regardless of Adair's cheating.
I continued playing the game until I won, and I collected the prize money.
But Adair wasn't through with me yet.
"This is bullshit!" He yelled, standing up at the end of the game. "Moran cheated!"
I was even more pissed off. "What the fuck?" I yelled. "I wasn't fucking cheating! Adair was! Just look up his damn sleeve! He's got cards all up it!"
There was nothing in his sleeves, and nobody believed anything I was saying. I had had enough. I went to leave, but I could not before the owner of the Club pulled me aside and let me know I was banned from the Club for the rest of my life.
I wanted to kill Adair. It was the first time in nearly two years when I really had the insatiable urge to kill someone, and I was not going to let it pass. I was going to kill Ron Adair that night, and I'd be damned if anyone was going to stop me
Adair left before I did, but he remained outside the Club to finish his cigar before he went home.
I pulled my pistol out of my jacket when I got outside. Adair was starting to walk down the block. He went into an alleyway, probably to take a shortcut to his house, but before he could finish, I cocked my gun loudly.
Adair put his hands up. "Moran, I know it's you. I did what I had to do to save myself. You would've done the same."
"I know I would've. That's why I have to kill you," I said, aiming the barrel of my pistol at the back of Adair's head, ready to shoot him in the back of the heart when there was a hole in his head.
"I would tell you I don't want to die, but that would be a complete lie. It would be an honor to die at the hand of Moran, Moriarty's Consulting Sniper..."
I was in shock. "How the hell do you know about that?"
"Becca. It slipped out when she was talking to me once. Told me I can't tell anyone and that no one else knows. You have that satisfaction at least. You'll be killing the one person who knows."
"You're right. I haven't added another tally in a while."
"Then add one more. You'll be put away for murder. This isn't the underground anymore, Moran. You know that."
I shot Adair in the head and back after he said that. I took the body and dragged it to the street, careful not to show my face. I knew what would be my next step.
Jim showed me how to do something once. How to shoot revolver bullets out of an air gun. I still had that one from all those years ago, and I could not wait to try it out on Sherlock Holmes.
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Consulting Sniper (Moran's Story)
FanfictionA companion fic to The Autobiography of Mycroft Holmes. Not really a sequel since you don't need to have read the first book to understand this, but does reference events and people from the first book that will be explained. Ties in also with "Holm...