Keeping the Strength to Fight

Chapter 4- Sherlock

Looking back at Irene as he sat himself on the armchair opposite her, he noticed for the first time the look she was giving him. 

"You think I'm a spy, a...fake." He spoke with no hint of emotion, he was stating the obvious. He should be dead, and people have been after her recently, so this would be the perfect way to get to her. 

She continued to stare. 

"Well, are you going to ask me then?" 

She paused before asking; 

"Are you the real Sherlock Holmes?" 

"Yes." He replied slowly and deliberately.  

"Prove it." 

Sherlock smirked for the fifth time that day. He prepared to show off his one of a kind deduction skills then stopped, something like that could be put down to good surveillance. So he thought of something else to say. 

He pondered for several seconds on something only he and she would know, then an idea came into his head. 

"The code to your old safe." 

She lifted her head, a notion showing that his answer would be sufficient, if he knew it. 

"32, 24, 34." 

Looking noticeably relieved, she replied; 

"Ok." 

"Ok?" 

"Yes, ok." 

"So you believe me?" 

"...yes." 

"Good." 

"Now, what do you want?" She asked, getting straight to the point. 

"Information." 

"On what?" 

"Moriarty." 

She lost her composure for a second, but recovered to ask;

"What about Moriarty?" 

"His inner circle, who are they?" 

Just then, the sound of a car being reved sounded from up the road.

Irene's eyes widened somewhat and she sprung to the window. 

"Looks like you're about to find out." 

Sherlock joined her at the window just as the car began to come into view, heralding a machine gun strapped to the roof. 

Sherlock grabbed Irene's shoulders and dropped to the floor, dragging her down with him, just as the bullets hailed upon them. 

"Who is after you!" Sherlock yelled in desperation.

"They are! His inner circle!" 

"Where are they?! Where can i find them?!" 

"Sherlock..." 

"TELL ME!" 

Irene gave him a pleading look which he shrugged off. Well, as much as you can shrug something off under gunfire. 

She sighed "Antalya, Turkey. There's an old abandoned warehouse near the dock, I don't know the specifics, I was always smart enough to stay away from there." She said, emphasizing the end. 

Sherlock nodded, thanking her for the information. 

"Now that you've got that, how about we work out a way to get out of here?" 

Sherlock pulled his handgun out from behind his back, as Irene reached for hers off the table. "Wait for them to reload." He ordered. Irene nodded in acknowledgment. 

He closed his eyes and tuned himself out of the incessant racket of the bullets striking the wall behind him, a few flying through just inches from his head. He could feel the adrenaline rushing through his system as he prepared himself. Eventually, the firing stopped and they stood up, perfectly in time, and fired 6 shots each in quick succession. As they both dropped down again Sherlock mumbled, "Run of the mill van, no licence plate, two in the front and two stood on a side panel on the other side. They've got one tyre punctured, four reloads left, the driver's dead and the men operating the gun haven't realised it yet. They're all just grunts in the business. Workers. Slaves. They do the dirty work for the primary bosses, who arrange it all. Moriarty taught them well it seems. But these guys, they aren't particularly smart, and the inner circle probably didnt think they needed to be. But why? It's not like you're a complete idiot, you're quite smart for a regular person, and could easily- ...Oh..." 

Irene sighed from his right, "What..." She asked 

"You're out of touch, you've been emotionally affected by some recent events and you've come off youre game. They deliberately sent the grunts because they knew you would notice them following you, and being unstable, it would make you worried rather than focused, causing your reaction times to slow and your mind to begin to play tricks on you. You've been played Miss Adler!" He was almost shouting at the end; the firing had resumed. 

She sat, staring through Sherlock, apparently trying to comprehend how she had managed to drop her guard so carelessly. 

"They're good..." He said with a hint of appreciation. 

Irene glared at him, but Sherlock continued oblivious. 

"One thing I can't understand is what they are doing after you, and how they managed to find out you were alive, you covered your tracks pretty well."  

Irene opened her mouth to answer, but the bullets stopped, and so instead she said;

"Ready for round two?" 

Sherlock narrowed his eyes but replied; 

"Of course!"