Sherlock meets The Flash and Arrow

Chapter 24

John

Vandal's threat to burn the city. I wasn't sure he would do it, but...If he did it before he'll do it again. (Does before even work? I'm not sure. Maybe... alternatively-before? Whatever.)

Sherlock smiles. "Okay. We're going to make it look like a plan doomed to fail...Just we'll keep some people on the sides. John will play his taxi role." He glances at me, seems my look of horror, and adds, "I won't jump. Oliver and Diggle will get behind Vandal, with Cisco's gloves that let them use the Staff of Horus—"

Cisco cuts him off. "How can you possibly know about the gloves?"

Sherlock glares at him. "Not now. As I was saying, Oliver and Diggle will get behind Vandal with Cisco's gloves. Once we have the Staff, Cisco and Barry will take out Rupture, with the element of surprise. I'll handle Trickster. Felicity and Caitlin will monitor their respective teams. We're also going to need you guys to short out the communication they've got set up between them."

Felicity nods. "I can do that."

I scowl. "And what do I do while you fight? Sit around like an idiot?"

Sherlock looks me over. "Well, I may have my hands full with Trickster and his gun. If you want, you can be my backup plan."

I glare at him. "You bloody know that means nothing to me."

Sherlock gives a long-suffering sigh. "Fine. I'll put it simply. If I can't hold Trickster off, I'll have to jump. Off the building. And I would prefer to have something to land on other than the pavement. You've seen how it's done. You'd be the perfect person to handle the blue bag. And we'll all feel better knowing there's an escape plan."

As always, he has a point, much as I hate to admit it.

Cisco

My heart is beating so fast I'm sure Rupture can hear it. Thanks to Oliver's gymnastics, he's gotten us on the top of a nearby building. Barry should be able to get us from here to there when the time comes. Rupture, our target, steps up onto the roof, away from where Sherlock can see him. I can hear John through the mic he's wearing.

John steps out of the taxi and his phone buzzes. He picks it up, and I can hear the words. "Don't move or I'll kill him."

John frowns. "Okay."

Sherlock steps to the edge of Bart's Hospital. Trickster says, "On the count of three, he's going to jump. And he's not going to survive this time, you know."

Sherlock looks worried. He hesitates, then steps onto the very edge of the hospital and spreads his arms. His coat billows behind him.

I'm struck by his acting ability. It's not merely that he acts unknowing. His expression, his manner, his very soul seems to vary to fit with his part. The stage lost a fine actor, even as science lost an acute reasoner, when he became a specialist in crime.

Trickster starts counting. That's our cue. Barry races us across the divide. Oliver snatches Vandal's Staff, clamps the gloves onto it, and tosses it to me. He's spot on. I catch the Staff effortlessly and slide the gloves on. Rupture turns around and tries to scythe me. I block his blow with the Staff. Before he can pull his scythe out, Barry yanks him over the roof at superspeed. It looks like a mudslide of molten red-and-gold lightning just hit him.

I glance over at Sherlock. He's pinned Trickster to the ground in what looks to be a very uncomfortable position. In one smooth motion, he yanks Trickster's arm over his leg, dislocates Trickster's elbow, and strikes the base of Trickster's skull. Trickster collapses.

Caitlin and Sherlock both simultaneously say, "Gallbladder 20." Caitlin smiles.

Sherlock glances up, and shouts, "Don't look up!"

I've seen Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. I know about basilisks. I know not to look up when someone says, "Don't look up!"

But for some reason, I look up.

Straight into a set of glowing red eyes.

Notes

"His expression, his manner, his very soul seems to vary to fit with his part. The stage lost a fine actor, even as science lost an acute reasoner, when he became a specialist in crime." is a variant on the quote from A Scandal in Bohemia:

"It was not merely that Holmes changed his costume. His expression, his manner, his very soul seemed to vary with every fresh part that he assumed. The stage lost a fine actor, even as science lost an acute reasoner, when he became a specialist in crime."