Face the Odds

Chapter 32: Second Test

John looked back at Eurus as he asked incredulously: "What's this? W-we're supposed to solve this based on what?"

"This." Sherlock replied as he kept his eyes fixed on the photographs. "This is all we get."

John looked at Sherlock in disbelief, while Marie moved her gaze to take the rifle from Sherlock. She examined it briefly while Eurus called: "Please, make use of your friends, Sherlock."

They all looked back at her, their brows furrowing as Eurus stated: "I want to see you interact with people that you're close to. Also, you may have to choose which one to keep."

Marie scowled while John frowned and glanced at her and then Mycroft with a puzzled look.

Sherlock ignored Eurus as he took the rifle back from Marie, before he held it out in both hands as he looked at Mycroft first.

"What do you make of it?" Sherlock inquired, and Mycroft asked flatly: "Am I being asked to prove my usefulness?"

"Yes, I should think you are." Sherlock answered just as flatly, and Mycroft replied in a low voice: "I will not be manipulated like this."

Marie glanced over at him, her eyes unreadable, while Sherlock just answered flatly: "Fine. John?"

He turned to his friend, who looked at Mycroft uneasily. Mycroft just looked away, and Sherlock prodded more firmly: "John?"

John finally turned back to Sherlock, and with an internal sigh he took the rifle as he began: "Yeah, I think I've seen one of these. It's a buffalo gun."

He lifted the gun, checking it, and then peered through the telescopic sight as he listed: "I'd say nineteen forties, old-fashioned sight, no crosshairs."

Sherlock took back the rifle before looking at Marie.

"Marie?" He asked quietly, and she answered coolly but distinctly: "Kickback on a gun like this would be substantial."

"Exactly." Sherlock agreed as he glanced briefly over the photos of the brothers once more, muttering: "Glasses, glasses."

"Nathan." Marie pointed out, pointing at the first brother in the photographs, and Sherlock continued their thoughts aloud: "Nathan wears glasses. Evans was shot from three hundred metres."

"So?" John asked, and Sherlock reminded him: "It's like Marie said – the kickback from a gun of this calibre would be massive."

He tapped the photograph of Nathan as he pointed out: "No cuts, no scarring."

"Not Nathan, then." Marie concluded, and Sherlock nodded as he turned the photograph over.

"Who's next?" Sherlock muttered, his eyes moving onto the next brother – Alex – while Mycroft commented sarcastically: "Well done, Dr. Watson, Victoire."

Marie shot him a resentful look, which Mycroft ignored as he said with a falsely friendly smile in an equally falsely sweet voice: "How useful you are."

John glanced at Mycroft as well, while Mycroft demanded, his tone dropping to become serious: "Do you have a suspicion we're being made to compete?"

"You think you're competing against me?" Marie inquired, her brow shooting up as she examined Mycroft with a measure of incredulity that puzzled the eldest Holmes.

But his attention was diverted as John retorted, taking a step closer to Mycroft: "No, we're not competing. There's a plane in the air that's gonna crash, so what we're doing is actually trying to save a little girl."

John stared Mycroft right in the eye as he continued in a low but firm voice: "Today we have to be soldiers, Mycroft," both Sherlock and John glanced over sharply at that, "soldiers, and that means to hell with what happens to us."