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“Hands in the air!!”
There was a sudden and loud shout from out of nowhere. The cops, who were enjoying the rare calm afternoon and watching the Holmes brothers with interest, shot up with alarm. But they didn’t reach for their weapons, seeing the guns pointed at them. The two intruders had automatics, and they are well trained to not provoke them for now.
John, Greg, Donovan, and Holmes brothers were standing slightly ahead of everyone and around Donovan’s desk. The rest of the cops were clustered at the back and were watching the Holmeses. That made everyone facing the two intruders from the one side, and nobody was close enough to disarm them without risks.
The Holmes brothers, who were arguing about certain protocol Sherlock broke which Mycroft had to clean up, paused as well.
There was a brief silence, and Sherlock scoffed. “Don’t you have people preventing this to happen when you are here, Mycroft? What were they doing, just letting them through?” Greg and John could have facepalmed, if moving their hands wouldn’t have been seen as a threat.
Mycroft gave Sherlock an indifferent and haughty smile. “So you didn’t notice that they were here since yesterday?” He doubled the effect by raising an eyebrow.
“Shut the fuck up!” The intruders finally interrupted, being momentarily taken aback at the Holmes brothers’ nonchalance.
The intruders waved their guns threateningly, and the brothers did close their mouth with a shrug. But they were done scanning the two by then, and their eyes met for a brief moment before turning their heads to avoid suspicion.
Sherlock tilted his head slightly, Mycroft shot a glance to the intruders’ foot for a moment, Sherlock turned his head minutely to the left, Mycroft quirked his eyebrow slightly, Sherlock straightened up to make his chest face Mycroft, Mycroft tapped the handle of his umbrella, and Sherlock nodded once.
It all happened within couple of seconds and without direct eye contact. John and Greg might have missed it if they weren’t staring at them incredulously and if they didn’t know about their geniuses.
Greg doesn’t know what those gestures meant, but he got that they are planning something, so he stepped up to give them a time to do that something. And there’s also the fact that he’s the highest ranking officer here.
“I’m DI Lestrade. Who are you? What do you want?” Greg spoke up, minding the gun swiveled towards him as he stepped forward.
The tall one scoffed at Greg while pointing his gun at the clustered cop. “As if you would give us everything we want.”
“Shut it.” The brunette one sharply cut the tall one off. His aim didn’t waver from Greg’s face, though. “You have White in custody, don’t you?”
Greg hesitated as long as he was allowed before nodding a confirmation. Something was wrong. Well, of course the whole situation is wrong considering that this is happening at the yard, but something is not right. They do have Jeffrey White in custody and there could be someone who wants revenge or his friends wanting to free him, but his experience is telling him that that is not the case. They are not trying to take a hostage or trying to block the entrances, for one. And they didn’t even wear face masks or other things to mask their identity. They all made Greg to be on high alert.
Just as Greg thought he saw something under the intruders’ vest and trying to say something to stall them, Mycroft strode towards them in arrogant confidence.
The brunette one swiveled his gun towards Mycroft instantly, and the cops held their tongues which were dying to admonish the crazy man.
Mycroft didn’t falter at the gun pointed at him. He took two steps more until the brunette shouted stop in impatience. Mycroft eyed the tall one casually as he stops. He’s only a couple of steps away from the brunette, and he’s close enough to both thanks to the length of his leg. He wanted a step more, but he knew this would be a limit.
“What the fuck are you doing?” The brunette asked aggressively.
“It seems like you are doing this to achieve something, and that something must be related to Jeffrey White. I am a politician, a rather successful one, I might add,” Mycroft gave the brunette an arrogant smile. “And I am sure that I can make whatever you want happen. My people will call whomever they need to if I say so. Tell me what you want so I can get out of this ridiculous event. I don’t have time for this.” He finished impatiently and lifted his chin up for a better effect.
Mycroft was the image of arrogant businessman or politician who thinks that their power or money will solve everything. To the extent of even letting him live in front of the barrel. Greg and John know Mycroft isn’t like that, but it was damn convincing.
Which must be for the intruders as well, since they laughed at Mycroft. It didn’t make them careless, but it did make them loose slight tension and focus. Unconsciously, their grips on the gun – especially grips on the trigger – loosened. “Do you think-,” The brunette started mockingly, and that’s when Mycroft moved.
Mycroft striked the precise point of center of mass of the brunette’s gun from beneath, causing the gun to slip out from the slackened grip and float in the air. Mycroft caught the gun by the barrel. Not waiting to see what the brunette does, he rotated using his left leg as a pivot, and smacked the tall one’s jaw with his umbrella before he could react. With the added power of the rotation, the tall one instantly lost consciousness and swayed dangerously, dropping the gun.
Mycroft caught the gun with left hand, which is already holding the other one. By holding the two with their barrels, they weren’t in danger of slipping out of Mycroft’s hand. At the same time, he hooked the handle of his umbrella to the tall one’s right leg, preventing the foot from meeting the floor, and he laid the unconscious man on the floor carefully. As he glanced towards the brunette from the crouching position, he saw Sherlock pointing a gun at the brunette as they planned earlier. And all the cops were now pointing a gun at the brunette as well, even though their jaws were unhinged and eyes were busy staring at Mycroft incredulously.
“Anthea.” Mycroft called, and the answer came back instantly from Sherlock’s chest pocket. Greg did a good job at masking Sherlock’s movement of calling her. “All incoming signals blocked, sir. How do you want to proceed?”
Before Mycroft could answer, he saw the brunette trying to load his weight on his right leg with a fierce scowl. Mycroft knew what he was trying to do, and he also knew that Sherlock would have noticed the same. Shelock also would have noticed that the angle isn’t ideal.
Mycroft and Sherlock reached the same conclusion and they both knew that the other is thinking the same thing even without looking at the other.
After a millisecond of reaching a conclusion, they acted at the same time. Sherlock shot the brunette’s right kneecap, successfully making the brunette to forget his purpose for a moment, and Mycroft used his umbrella handle once more to hook the foot before it hit the floor.
The brunette screamed as his knee was shot and then twisted by Mycroft, but Sherlock and Mycroft didn’t spare a thought. Mycroft focused on catching the brunette before he falls to prevent the impact, and after the brunette was laid on the floor, Mycroft expertly restrained his hands above his head by stepping on each elbow. He would have used his umbrella to spare his shoes if it was possible, but he needed his umbrella to prevent the brunette’s foot from touching the floor.
By holding the umbrella under his armpit and restraining the brunette’s leg, Mycroft used both hands to unload both of the guns expertly. He dropped the unloaded guns on the floor with disassembled magazine.
Mycroft then answered Anthea. “Do not send any agents in, Anthea. There’s bombs inside, and even with the jammer, they might try truly idiotic actions if they notice something is wrong.”
Sherlock was aiming the tall one in case he wakes up as soon as Mycroft moved. He doesn’t have to worry about Mycroft.
“You know our top priority is your safety, sir. Do we have to extract you?” Anthea answered formally.
John and Greg knew exactly what that means. It means the agents won’t care others’ lives as long as Mycroft is safe. Their brains were slowed down at the surprise of Mycroft’s unexpected prowess, but they know that much.
Mycroft answered in his usual bland tone. “Don’t worry about it, Anthea,” Mycroft dragged down the brunette’s vest with his umbrella, holding the brunette’s leg with his right hand now that both of his hands are free. The bomb was exposed for everyone now, and several cops drew in a sharp breath. It has a timer. “I have ten minutes.” He finished with still bland tone as if that explains it all.
And it did to Anthea. 10 minutes were more than enough for Mycroft. “Yes, sir. I’ll be staying on the line.”
Mycroft didn’t answer that and pressed down the brunette’s hands a bit harder and held the leg tightly. He was resisting now that his bomb was exposed. “You might want to stay still. I know you came in prepared to die, but there is a bit of difference between exploding within an instant and dying in agony.” Mycroft said casually as he twisted the brunette’s leg a bit to prove his point. The brunette screamed.
“Inspector, a hand, please? Sherlock, find the others.” Mycroft ordered while cataloguing the wires of the bomb.
Sherlock scowled, but he didn’t protest. He knows that time is essential and it’s logical course of action. He addressed the necessities to Lestrade, who obediently went to Mycroft to restrain the brunette. “George, there must be couple of bombs hidden in the corners. The timer must be synchronized with them, so we don’t have much of a time. Let them search for it, and keep in mind that it will be near. Do NOT flee in the guise of searching for the bomb. The others outside would detonate the bombs immediately if you do.”
Greg paused for a moment. “That sounds like a terrorism, Sherlock.” He had to ask, even though he intuitively knew he’s right. Their behaviors can’t be explained otherwise.
Sherlock only shot an annoyed face at him, and Greg sighed seeing it. “You heard him. Search in two, be careful, and bring back as soon as you find it. We don’t know the exact number, so we have to cover all. Donovan, you and Anderson take the…” Greg ordered as he made sure the brunette was restrained securely. He then moved on to the unconscious tall one just in case he wakes up.
Greg knows Sherlock and Mycroft had a reason of paying particular attention to prevent his right foot from touching the floor. There must be a detonation switch in it. Come to think of it, he doesn’t think he saw the intruders stepping fully on that foot. He just couldn’t believe that Mycroft and Sherlock noticed it at once. He paid extra attention on restraining them both, making it impossible for them to place their right foot on the floor.
Sherlock tuned out the rest of the order and went to Mycroft. The brunette’s gaze was murderous, but Sherlock didn’t spare a thought as long as he was not trying to detonate the bomb.
“John, please keep an eye on that one with Gary. We don’t want him to wake up.” Sherlock saw John nodding and turned to Mycroft. “How is it?”
Mycroft raised his eyebrow slightly. Sherlock knows better than that to ask that kind of obvious question. “Easy.” He answered anyway with his usual smile. Even though the bomb does have a power, it isn’t very sophisticated. Especially for Mycroft.
But contrary to his word, Mycroft didn’t try to dismantle the bomb. After a minute of silence, John had to ask. “I’m sorry, is there a reason you are not taking it apart?” He doesn’t like to experience another bomb anytime soon. Especially this close. Afghanistan was more than enough.
Mycroft tilted his head slightly towards John – which felt strangely like Sherlock’s pitying gaze, which accompanied ‘oh, how could you survive till now with that brain’ – and explained the reason to him. “Because, Dr. Watson, it won’t take much for me to dismantle this bomb, so I am waiting for the officers to find all of it before starting just in case other designs could indicate possible traps. Even though it’s highly unlikely. And you, as I said, would better stay still. You might die without any accomplishment.” Mycroft warned the brunette once more as his resistance got stronger at his words.
Thankfully, before long, all the cops returned and there were two additional bombs. Greg collected them and brought them to Mycroft with apprehensive expression.
“Are you sure we don’t need a bomb squad…?” Greg had to ask, but as soon as his question was finished, he was met with Mycroft’s arched brow and Sherlock’s loud scoff.
Greg sighed and handed the bombs over to Sherlock.
Sherlock laid them out in the floor, knowing it’s how Mycroft prefers it to analyze them. Mycroft looked down the bombs from above.
After a minute, Mycroft nodded once while procuring a knife out of nowhere. “Anthea, I will be out in 5.” He said slightly absently as he eyed the wires he needs to cut.
“Yes, sir,” answered the disembodied voice of Anthea.
As Greg looked up from the tall one, Mycroft was cutting the wires swiftly. Too swiftly, in fact, that if Greg didn’t know better, he would have thought that Mycroft wasn’t minding which wire he is cutting. But he does know better.
The other cops, on the other hand, were flinching every time Mycroft cuts the new wire. Sherlock was rolling his eyes at them.
It only took a minute for Mycroft to disable two bombs found in the corners. He now turned to the brunette to dismantle the one on his chest. The timer now has two and a half minutes left.
The brunette struggled as much as he could, knowing this is it. It didn’t do much thanks to Greg’s meticulous restraining, but it was enough to intervene Mycroft’s work.
Mycroft sighed irritatingly, and crouched down to block mouth and nose tightly with his hand. He calmly started to dismantle the tall one’s bomb first with his hand blocking the brunette’s airway unforgivingly.
By the time the brunette’s struggling subsided down due to the lack of oxygen, Mycroft was done with the tall one. He held his hold on the brunette’s airway for a few seconds longer while starting to cut his bomb. He only removed his hand in distaste when it was apparent that the brunette lost consciousness.
Only leaving 42 seconds to spare, Mycroft successfully dismantled all the bombs. He got up, picking up his umbrella and dusting his trouser with a frown, as if nothing unusual happened.
“I should go and change my cloth. And wash my hands.” Mycroft frowned at the hand he used to block the brunette’s airway. “As you may know by now, it is a terrorism, inspector. We will be looking into it, and it would be better to sweep the whole building in case there’s more. You might want to find out how those two could have sneaked in and remained hidden for a whole day and how the explosives could be installed.”
As soon as Mycroft’s words are done, a hoard of black suited agents came in to take the intruders away and sweep the yard.
Sherlock didn’t pay them any mind. He already knew this would be the outcome. “Are you sure you aren’t the target? There’s few place your people doesn’t check beforehand and this is one of them. Universe is so rarely lazy.” Sherlock frowned.
Mycroft smiled at him as he answered Sherlock. “Thank you for your concern, brother dear. Of course I will check it, but I doubt it. As you know, they were here since yesterday to avoid detection, targeting today. And my presence here today isn’t exactly a preplanned one.” Mycroft quirked his brow meaningfully.
Sherlock scowled at Mycroft’s reminder of the protocol he broke.
Mycroft smiled sweetly at Sherlock’s scowl and with polite nod to John and Greg, Mycroft walked out of the yard. The cops were still dumbfounded at what they saw of Mycroft, to the point where their anger at terrorists are overshadowed. Frankly, the crisis was averted too swiftly for them to be genuinely furious at it. The whole event felt surreal.
Sherlock lost all the interest as Mycroft’s agents butted in. But before he could urge John and go home, John spoke up with slightly dumbfounded voice. “I thought Mycroft disliked legwork.”
Sherlock arched a brow. “He hates legwork. Didn’t you see how he was constantly sighing and frowning?”
“But…” John turned his head to stare at Sherlock instead of already disappeared back of Mycroft.
Sherlock rolled his eyes. “I didn’t say he’s incompetent at legwork, John. Just that he dislikes it. You knew he was an agent back then with a proper codename. What did you think he had done during then?” Sherlock arched his eyebrow incredulously at how stupid they could be, considering whole yard was staring at him with astonishment.
John couldn’t come up with an answer. He didn’t give much of a thought about Mycroft’s past, but even after hearing Mycroft’s codename – Antarctica –, John had thought that Mycroft had handled information or such from the start. He shook his head slowly in amazement and chuckled.
“Okay, well with the fact that Mycroft’s agents apparently screens our flat before his visit, I don’t know why I am keep getting surprised.”
Sherlock merely rolled his eyes once more and sat down on the chair.
Greg asked in surprise. “You are not going?”
“Do you want me to go? You need us to get statements and such.” Greg shook his head right away, because he does need those, but he couldn’t stop sending disbelieving gaze. “And Mycroft’s people will be at 221B right now, going through everything just in case.” Sherlock said petulantly, relenting at the gaze.
John and Greg shook his head fondly and chuckled. John sat down near Sherlock and Greg went over to the cops to order the cleanup.
They couldn’t stop chuckling intermittently, though. There was a terrorist attempt at the yard – the YARD! – and they saw Mycroft moving like an expert agent, making them forget about the situation they were in. What a day.