Falling Through Portals

Lover's Gaze

Chapter 95

The phone rang in the silent but luxurious mansion. The phone was always ringing. Mycroft refrained from sighing as he picked up his phone and hit the talk button.

Mycroft Holmes was the greatest single asset to the British Government. He was the omniscient mind that kept the whole country afloat. To most, he was simply a tall man with a suit and an umbrella in hand. But to a very small circle of people he was, by some, the definition of the British Government in the flesh. Not many knew his name, and even less knew the man behind all of the problems he solved and the reach that he had. His brain and calculations had no match with any mind on the planet.

And of course he was also the older brother of Sherlock Holmes.

"What is it?" Mycroft tried to keep a pleasant tone but it came out more like tires on gravel.

"Sir," the wavering voice began, Mycroft could just tell from the breathiness on the other end that the man was winded –not from running, but from the fact that he was overweight and probably had a cholesterol problem. Although that wasn't much of a deduction considering most overweight people had a cholesterol problem. "We have had reports of some movement in London. It looks like something big is going down," the man said with a huff that Mycroft recognized as the sound of someone sitting down in a chair.

"Who is it?" Mycroft asked, jotting down a few notes on the piece of paper in front of him. He could already think of three people he would need to call.

"We are not sure . . . they have a few similarities with Moriarty's crew but there is something off with them," the man said. Mycroft could hear sloppy typing and the noises of other people.

"Moriarty is dead," Mycroft said as he flipped the page of his note pad, "Are you sending me the details of this group?"

"Uh-"the typing stopped and Mycroft cringed as he heard the man yell to someone else to get on the request. Probably an intern at the sound of the guy's tone. "It will be to you right away, Mr. Holmes, Sir."

Mycroft rolled his eyes, "Do you know where most of the activity is?" he tried not to let on his bored tone, but it seeped through. Because of his station, the man ignored it. One of the few perks that he had on his job, he could be flippant and still obeyed.

"Uhhhh," the man said as he heard some mouse clicking. Mycroft massaged his temple. "Yes!" the man said a little loudly into the receiver, Mycroft cringed, "Most of the men have been spotted on and around a Bakers Street."

Mycroft's pen slipped mid note. A dozen different factors raced through his mind as he sorted through who this gang could be. It made sense that they thought this was Moriarty's men. Of course they would, with his brother living there and their history . . . If Mycroft had used such words, he would have cursed.

He finished the note and barely kept his tone normal as he said, "Get me that info like your life depends on It." and then he hung up.

Standing from the table, Mycroft walked quickly into his study where his Laptop still glowed brightly. Sitting down at his desk he checked his email and quickly ingested the information that the lackey had sent him.

Mycroft's eyebrows drew in concern. This was far worse than he had imagined . . . this was the group they had been tracking for months. The group that had taken nothing, done nothing except exist just out of their reach waiting for trouble to arrive. And arrive it did.

Right at his brother's doorstep.

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"I have never been to a morgue before," Percy said as he tilted his head to look at the florescent lights and white painted pipes that crisscrossed all over the celling.