Side of the Angels ~ A BBC Sherlock Fanfiction {Book II} *UNDER EDITING*

Chapter 51- Unrelenting

Millie's POV

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She picks the phone up on the fifth ring.

"Sherlock?"

"Emily, I need you to get in contact with Moriarty."

The reply is instantaneous.

"No."

"You don't understand. Molly Hooper is going to die if  you can't get him to call off Moran."

"Hang on- who's Molly Hooper?"

"It doesn't matter," snaps Sherlock, impatient, "You just need to know that an innocent woman will be shot dead today unless you do something."

John covers his face with his hands at Sherlock's blatantly  tactless approach. Subtlety is not his strong point. We can hear Emily's sharp intake of breath as she tries to bite back her irritation and not hang up on him there and then.

"I don't have to do anything. She's got nothing to do with me."

Sherlock rakes a hand through his unbrushed hair, and says, making an effort to speak in a softer and less obnoxious tone-

"Please, Emily. She's a friend. We can't let her die."

Emily sighs heavily-

"Why don't you contact Moriarty? I'm not too keen on initiating conversation with that man, funnily enough."

"I have. He's refusing to comply."

"And what makes you think I can get him to call of Moran? If he won't listen to you, he's certainly not going to-"

"Try."

She's silent for a minute. Then-

"What do you want me to say?"

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Fifteen minutes later, and Emily calls Sherlock. We all crowd round the receiver, craning in to her voice.

"Well?"

"I'm sorry, Sherlock. He's cancelling the calls. He must have predicted that you'd get in contact with me. Have you tried warning Molly?"

Sherlock doesn't reply. He lets the phone fall from his slack grip, onto his lap, and his eyes become clear cut crystal as he fixes them on a point in the distance, his mind working frantically to salvage the situation.

And then he jerks his head sideways, as if someone had slapped him hard, and he scrabbles around for his phone-

"Emily? I need you to meet us at Potsdam Court. It's the building directly opposite St. Bart's Hospital, on the South side. You can't miss it- it's taped off, ready to demolished. Meet us by the back entrance. We can get in that way," Sherlock says, taking his phone away from his ear to check the time, "In precisely thirty minutes. Don't be late."

He doesn't let Emily reply. He hangs up the call and stands up, buttoning up his jacket and making his way over to the door.

"Sherlock, what are we doing? Potsdam Court?" asks John, standing up and looking at Sherlock, then at me, then Sherlock again.

"Of course," I breathe, as I understand. I turn around to John, and explain rapidly.

"Molly Hooper's lunch break will commence in approximately 45 minutes. And then she will leave the hospital, through the back door, on the South side. Potsdam Court is derelict: it is the concrete skeleton of a building, no doors, no roof, no windows. The perfect place to station a sniper. Moran will wait until Molly leaves to buy her lunch- it's a Friday, so the hospital canteen is closed- and presumably shoot on her exit."