Can't Stay Away (BBC Sherlock) -2-

43. The Fallen Angel

The helicopter flew above Appledore. At the same time, armed police marksmen were sprinting for the patio. The helicopter put a spotlight on us on the patio while it hovered above the ground yards away. It's about time, Mycroft. You couldn't have gotten here earlier, you know, before Magnussen had fun hitting my dad's face? Wiggy should have given him a smaller dose so he could have woken up quicker and gotten here faster.

"Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, and Rachel Watson," Mycroft's voice rang above the wind from the helicopter. "Stand away from that man."

Since Magnussen was facing the helicopter and the men, I ran to Dad's side, trying to not be blinded by the spotlight trained on us.

"Here we go, Mr. Holmes!" Magnussen shouted.

"To clarify: Appledore's vaults only exist in your mind, nowhere else, just there," Sherlock bellowed over the roaring wind.

Magnussen had his gaze on the helicopter. "They're not real. They never have been."

"Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, and Rachel Watson. Step away," Mycroft repeated. I probably would have had I not froze like a deer in headlights.

Magnussen took a few steps towards the helicopter, waving his hands. "It's fine! They're harmless!"

I swallowed, afraid of the armed men lined up in front of the patio. Their rifles were aimed towards us. Truthfully, I couldn't think of a time where I'd been so scared in my life.

"Sherlock, what do we do?" Dad yelled to Sherlock.

"Nothing!" Magnussen said. He looked at us. "There's nothing to be done! Oh, I'm not a villain. I have no evil plan. I'm a business-man, acquiring assets. You happen to be one of them! Sorry. No chance for you to be a hero this time, Mr. Holmes."

"Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, and Rachel Watson," Mycroft interrupted. "Stand away from that man. Do it now."

"Oh, do your research," Sherlock said loudly. Before I knew it, Sherlock was on the other side of me, advancing towards Magnussen. "I'm not a hero; I'm a high-functioning sociopath. Merry Christmas!"

I almost didn't believe it happened, Sherlock did it so quickly.

He raised a gun—where it came from; I had no idea—and aimed it at Magnussen. I screamed as the shot hit Magnussen square in the forehead. As Magnussen's body was heading for the ground, Sherlock tossed away the gun, facing the helicopter and the marksmen, his hands up.

"Get away from me, John, Rachel!" Sherlock demanded. "Stay well back!"

"Christ, Sherlock!" Dad exclaimed.

"Stand fire!" Mycroft commanded. "Do not fire on Sherlock Holmes! Do not fire!"

"Rachel, get back here!"

I hadn't realized my legs were moving until Dad shouted my name. Sherlock turned to look at me.

"No, Rachel, I said get back," he shouted. "Stop right where you are." My legs obeyed him. "Put your hands up and get back with John. Do it now, Rachel. I'm not asking you."

With labored breathing, I gave a curt nod, slowly having my hands up first. With teary eyes, I backed up to be close to my dad.

"Oh, Christ, Sherlock," Dad whispered, his voice full of despair.