Chapter 13

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Act Three: Angels and Demons

Chapter 13 - Rush Hour

Early morning in the London tube system saw an increase in activity - namely, frantic running and screams. Hospitals were on their toes, waiting for disaster victims. Police were on high alert. A special ops team was deployed. News crews peppered the streets.

Mycroft Holmes received the report on the situation at the same time that a letter arrived for him. He consulted the report first.

At 8:30 on this cloudy Monday morning, six men and four women had entered different lines with black plastic trash bags. They were all similarly dressed, with scarves covering their faces and leaving only their eyes visible. They all stood outside a just arrived train and revealed knives or scissors. Cutting into the bags, they pulled water bottles from their hoodies and poured the water into the bags. Within moments, a white gas escaped, spreading rapidly through the subway system.

Panic ensued. Questions were asked and the answers were demanded of Mycroft.

The Sarin Gas attacks in Tokyo were reawakened in the press' memories, feeding the fear permeating the city. Traffic was brought to a standstill.

The teams inside confirmed that the gas was not especially harmful. It was carbon dioxide, evidently released from masses of cardice in the bags. It dissipated in hours and the people were allowed back in though the numbers were greatly decreased. The press began their field day. Mycroft opened the letter.

So quick to jump to conclusions, aren't they? How is Sherlock? Tell him I miss him.

His hand clenched but he relaxed it slowly. He went through the same runaround as before, trying to find the origin of the letter. It was clear this time that Owen was behind it and was gleefully playing games with him.

He didn't understand. Looking at the picture, he knew he had never met this woman. While he had enemies formerly associated with Moriarty's network, few were still living and still fewer had resurfaced since the dismantling of their entire organization. Those who had survived, both with their lives and their businesses, did not have the power or resources to attempt such a slow attack on him. And for what purpose would they do so? No, any of his enemies would come at him head on with the intent to kill.

Owen was throwing curveballs at him but not aiming for a direct hit. He couldn't piece the bits together. She had certainly been Savannah's murderer, something for which he would gladly enact his vengeance. She had arranged for Sherlock's kidnap, torture, and subsequent mental dismantling. Mycroft's anger burned again as he glanced at the letter.

How is Sherlock?

His brother was slowly coming to terms with the fact that he had been used. Owen had led him into the belief that she cared about him, that she had a sense of mercy and decency. She was his only respite, his only chance at survival and as much as he needed her, she needed him. At least... That's what Sherlock thought.

Mycroft had left John to present the proof of all she had done. They hoped that with this new attack and her claiming responsibility for it, Sherlock would see that she was not simply "doing her job" and there was likely no goodness in her. Mycroft hoped separately that Cameron's attachment to her would dissipate as well.

Anthea came in, tapping furiously on her Blackberry. "The press is being held up for the most part. The team is looking into Lieutenant Pax."

Mycroft nodded and sat back, satisfied that the situation was being handled. Lieutenant Pax was the leader of a widespread "peace" cult that used acts of terrorism in their own countries to somehow demand change through the anger of the people. It was suspected that they had been used to help Owen but it was not entirely according to their M.O. They would have attacked the subway system but to use a placebo? Mycroft suspected that part was Owen's doing. He called the team.

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