Inconsistencies In Sentiments

Chapter 9

Sherlock stirred from his sleep to find himself in the leather chair at 12.00 a.m. in the morning. The door to his bedroom was opened and he could see John sleeping inside with baby Rosie next to him. His neck, back and shoulders ached from the awkward position he slept in. The blue file he was reading was on his lap, opened to the last page.

First Mission Report

21 January 1998

Team November had sucessfully completed the mission. The mission took place in -------- with target ---- ------- ----------. The team spent a two weeks surveying the target and has gathered information that he will conduct the exchange at an abandoned Sugar Mills factory. Once there, they were able to disable the target and bring him in where he will be kept in -----------. I have never seen any other of the teams complete their first mission as flawlessly as they did.

Signed,
Commander Nathan Trosts

Ten photos were added to replace the lack of text in the page. Three boys and one girl lined up with equipped with military wear and guns bigger than their person. A satellite picture of an abandoned sugar factory stationed in Scotland based the snow on the around the complex and the coordinates. So, it took place in Scotland in January because that is Scotland's coldest month.

A picture of a bearded man with blue eyes and rough features with three black-and-white pictures of him in a car, exiting a hotel and from across a cafe. The last two had the three boys and girl in what appeared to be inside a military jeep. The oldest one that appeared to at least a year older that the rest seemed to be loading his gun while he was listening to the banter caused by his team members. The boy beside him was photographed putting his helmet on and the other was checking his scope on his gun as they both smirked.

(Y/N) seemed to be the one among them making the trip fun, photographed while she was making a joke. The picture was in black and white but Sherlock could see the glint in her eyes. That hopeful glint. He smiled and dropped the file beside the chair aand walked into his room to rest.

🔱

His breath quickened and his pulse was increasing an unsettling pace. He didn't have time to wipe the sweat of his brow as he ran behind his car. He heard nothing but his breath that almost echoed through the empty parking lot.

Calm down, Trosts. You've been through worse. His breath of relief would soon be interrupted by the looming figure with a sickle in their hand. With their hand lifted above their head, he brought down the sickle to his thigh. His screams seemed to ammuse the attacker as they kicked him in the wound.

He winced that the pain and looked down at the sickle sticking out of his thigh. He screamed as they pulled it out and blood began rapidly spill out of the wound. They pulled their mask down to reveal the white scar that decorated his right cheek. His eyes widened in fear and was barely to talk.

'N-no. It can't be..' He swallowed his fear. 'I'm sorry. So so sorry.' He began crying as the combat boot dug deeper into his wound and a smirk formed on their face. They wiped up their sweat with the back of gloved hand and looked down at the former commander, snickering.

'I didn't come to see you beg, sir." They spoke the last part in such malice he spat on the ground. They threw the sickle up and down before catching it in his hand. 'What did you say before?'

He panicked. 'No, please! I have a family!'

'So did I!' The sudden outburst was able to shut him up. The attacker cleared his throat and regain his composure. Ah, yes. I remember.' He gripped the sickle's handle tighter and held it high up his head.

'Get them when they're down.'