(Open POV)
Watsons' home...
"My darling." Mary said, as a voiceover.
John sits in a chair at home reading a handwritten letter. Jared is playing on his Nintendo Switch.
"I need to tell you this because you mustn't hate me for going away." Mary said, as a voiceover.
(Jared's POV)
Airplane cabin...
Mary, wearing white slacks, a light striped jacket, a colourful scarf around her head and large round Prada sunglasses, is sitting in an aisle seat chewing a piece of gum. She turns to the man sitting next to her at the window seat and talks to him in a broad New York accent.
"Pardon me. I can hear a squeaking. Can you hear a squeaking?" Mary asked.
The man has looked up from the book he's reading. He glances around the cabin briefly.
"No." The passenger said, in an English accent and lowering his head to his book.
"Only I watched a documentary on the Discovery Channel." Mary said, while the man sighs and lifts his head to her. "'Why Planes Fail'. Did you see it?"
"Can't say I did."
"Oh, truly terrifying. Swore I would never fly again, yet here I am!" Mary said, chuckling nervously.
A female flight attendant walks over to Mary, "Everything okay, madam?"
"No! No, no, it's not, but then what's the use in complaining? I hear a squeaking. Probably the wing'll come off, is all." Mary said.
I have my TARDIS key around my neck, keeping me out of sight through the perception filter. I am snacking on some Pocky to keep me occupied since that snack is so good.
The attendant laughs politely, "Everything's fine, I promise you. Just relax."
"Oh, okay, relax." Mary said, sarcastically, slapping her fellow passenger's arm as the attendant walks away towards the rear of the plane. "She said relax."
Mary sniggers.
"Did you have a nice time? In London?" The passenger asked, politely.
"It was okay, I guess, but did somebody hide the sun?" Mary asked, taking off her sunglasses. "Did you lose it in the war?"
Laughing, Mary slaps the passenger's arm again. He smiles politely and returns to his book. Mary, chomping on her gum, turns and looks along the aisle behind her.
(Open POV)
Watsons' home...
John continues to read Mary's letter. He showed Jared the letter.
"I gave myself permission to have an ordinary life. I'm not running. I promise you that. I just need to do this in my own way." Mary said, as a voiceover.
The plane...
Mary clings to one arm of her chair and hunches forward.
(Jared's POV)
"Oh God. I'm s... I-I don't feel so good. Oh my God." Mary said, in her New York accent.
As Mary lifts her hand and raises it to her mouth, the man beside her turns round from where he was looking out of the window and reaches up to push the Call button. At the front of the section, two flight attendants look round at the sound of the 'bing' and the one who spoke to Mary before comes down the aisle. Mary is breathing heavily and gulping as if she is going to be sick. She glances up as the attendant arrives.
"Everything okay, madam?" The flight attendant asked, squatting down next to Mary.
"I think I'm dying. I don't feel so good." Mary said, gasping in a few breaths.
"You're all right." The flight attendant said, comfortingly.
"Oh ..." Mary said, reaching out and cup's the woman's cheek. "... you're sweet." She strokes the flight attendant's cheek. "You have a very kind face. God will smile on you."
Mary grizzles, then raises her other hand towards her mouth.
Watsons' home...
John looks away from the letter thoughtfully as Mary's voiceover continues.
"... but I don't want you, Jared, and Sherlock hanging off my gun arm. I'm sorry, my love." Mary said, as a voiceover.
"Oh, Mary..." I said, sadly. "You shot me to protect me. Let's go, John. Before she does something stupid."
Airport terminal...
A flight attendant pushes Mary out of the Arrivals area in a wheelchair. Her dark glasses are back on her face. The camera pans up and we see that Mary is actually the flight attendant, now in the airline's uniform. Smiling smugly, she continues across the concourse and it's now clear that the woman in the wheelchair wearing Mary's clothes is the flight attendant, her eyes closed behind the glasses.
Watsons' home...
"I know you'll try to find me with Jared's help, but there is no point." Mary said, as a voiceover.
I closed my eyes to imagine three dice tumbling.
"Every move is random and not even Sherlock Holmes can anticipate the roll of a dice." Mary said, as a voiceover.
Three numbers appear in my head over an alphabetical list of place names in an atlas. The numbers are 6, 2 and 3 and I looked down on the atlas to where it reads 'Norddal, Norway M47+623 46'. A map of Norway appears in my head.
Norddal, Norway...
Mary, dressed for cold weather and wearing a woolly hat, is on a fishing boat at a quayside. The boat has a Norwegian flag on the side of the wheelhouse. She picks up a large canvas bag, swings it over her shoulder and steps out of the boat and walks away.
Watsons' home...
"I need to move the target far, far away from you and Rosie, and I need to keep the target away from Jared because we know how he gets if someone he cares about gets hurt, and then I'll come back, my darling. I swear I will." Mary said, as a voiceover.
"John, are you ready to make a good entrance?" I asked, looking at John.
"I am. But we are doing this my way, Jared." John said, happily.
Norddal, Norway...
Mary has made her way to a more isolated area of shoreline. A coastal watchtower stands nearby and she goes to the stone wall below it. Looking around to check that there's nobody in the vicinity, she pulls out a loose stone from the wall and reaches into the gap to pull out a brown envelope. Taking out the passport inside it, she opens it. The photo is of Mary but with long brown hair, and the name is Gabrielle Ashdown, born in the USA on 16 April 1975.
Eastern Europe...
Mary comes out of a stone cottage dressed in black leathers and wearing a long dark wig that matches the passport photo. She gets onto a motorcycle, pushes the starter button, puts on a black helmet and drives off, riding past what looks like an abandoned factory or warehouse with 'RACHWALD KIELBASKI' painted on the side. Graffitied across the wall is the word 'SOLIDARNOŚĆ'.
Liechtenstein...
A SUV drives across a far more arid region, possibly northern Italy. Mary is at the wheel.
Southeastern Europe...
The dice roll again and the arrival time of an aeroplane can be seen as 02:30 while the map pans across south eastern Europe. Mary walking along a stone pier which has the Cyrillic word БУГРИНО painted on the wall. Her hair is covered with a black floppy beret.
Tehran...
The dice roll again and a camel walks across a desert region while the map pans across Tehran. It's not clear whether the person riding the camel is Mary.
Algeria...
Again, the dice roll and Mary is now on foot, wearing a white head scarf and with a bag over her shoulder, walking across the sand towards a nearby building. The map is now panning across Algeria.
Morocco...
Later, as the map shows Morocco, Mary walks into a covered souk or marketplace wearing dark slacks, a striped shirt and a long white scarf over her dark hair. She has a bag over one shoulder. She moves briskly through the stalls, checking behind herself for any sign of being followed. Making her way into a narrow alleyway she reaches a doorway above which is a sign saying in Arabic and English, 'Hotel CECIL'. She goes inside.
Hotel CECIL...
Mary reaches a latticed door and puts her head close to it as if listening for sounds inside. Drawing and cocking a large pistol, she pushes the door open and moves toward the sound of an accented male voice. The room ahead of her is in an Oriental style with orange terracotta walls, stained glass windows covered in latticework, and pointed archways. There is a bed in front of her to her right, and the voice is coming from deeper in the room to the left.
"Not like this, my friend. You haven't got a chance, not a chance." A male voice said, nearby.
Holding the gun pointed upwards beside her head with both hands, Mary moves silently forward.
"I've got you where I want you. Give in! Give in! I will destroy you. You're completely at my mercy." The male voice said, nearby.
Mary grimaces.
"Mr Baker. Well, that completes the set." Sherlock said, his voice nearby.
Mary's grimace fades and she looks startled.
"No it does not." The male voice said, laughing nearby.
Lowering her gun, Mary steps into the room.
"Well, who else am I missing?" Sherlock asked, his voice nearby.
A young man, maybe in his early teens, is sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of a low table. It's his voice we heard offscreen. There are game cards on the table.
"Master Bun. It's not a set without him. How many more times, Mr Sherlock?" Karim asked.
As Mary moves further into the room she sees Sherlock, wearing a dark blue shirt, sitting cross-legged on the floor on the other side of the table, holding some cards in his hands. The two of them are clearly playing the 'Happy Families' card game.
"Maybe it's because I'm not familiar with the concept." Sherlock said, humming out an exasperated breath, nonchalantly, looking at Mary for a moment. "Oh, hi, Mary."
"What concept?" Karim asked, giving Mary only a brief glance before turning back to Sherlock.
"Happy families." Sherlock said, looking up at Mary.
"Oh. Hey." I said, entering the room, drinking a mocha. "How was the road trip around Europe and Africa? Was it nice?"
"How the f..." Mary said, looking between Sherlock and I.
"Please, Mary. There is a child present." Sherlock said, interrupting Mary.
Mary sighs, "How did you and Jared get in here?!"
"Karim let us in." Sherlock said.
"Yeah. And he told me where the nearest McDonald's is." I said, sipping on the mocha. "I was craving a mocha."
Karim smiles and waves to Mary, "Hello."
Mary nods to Karim and pulls her headscarf down onto her shoulders to reveal her long dark bob.
"Karim, would you be so kind as to fetch us some tea?" Sherlock asked.
"Sure." Karim said, happily.
"Thank you." Sherlock said, and Karim stands up and looks at Mary.
"Nice to meet you, missus." Karim said, leaving he room while Mary stares blankly into the distance for a moment before turning her head and directing an insincere smile down to Sherlock and I.
"No, I-I-I mean how did the both of you find me?" Mary asked, moving to stand at the other side of the table.
"I'm Sherlock Holmes. And he's Jared Shay." Sherlock said, frowning as if he doesn't know why Mary's surprised.
"No, really, though, how? Every movement I made was entirely random; every new personality just on the roll of a dice!" Mary said, angrily.
"Mary, no human action is ever truly random." Sherlock said, at a quick fire rate. "An advanced grasp of the mathematics of probability mapped onto a thorough apprehension of human psychology and the known dispositions of any given individual can reduce the number of variables considerably." Mary stares at him, bamboozled by his technobabble, as Sherlock still spoke at a quickfire rate. "I myself know of at least fifty-eight techniques to refine this seemingly infinite array of randomly generated possibilities down to the smallest number of feasible variables." Mary nods her head. "But they're really difficult, so instead I just ... stuck a tracer on the inside of the memory stick."
"And I used my MacBook Pro with the Torchwood server online. I've been able to track you the entire time." I said, while Sherlock and I snorted laughter as her mouth dropped a little, then Mary laughed as well. "While relaying your location changes from the USB stick to Sherlock."
"Oh, you bastards!" Mary said, looking down on Sherlock's giggling face and my giggling face. "You bastards! No wonder it was pinpoint accurate! It was the Torchwood server!"
"I know, but your face!" Sherlock said, excitedly.
"'The mathematics of probability'?!" Mary exclaimed.
"You believed that." Sherlock said, smiling.
"'Feasible variables'!" Mary said, throwing up her hands.
"Yes. I started to run out about then." Sherlock said.
Still grinning, Mary clenches her hands either side of her head in frustration, "In the memory stick!"
"Yeah, that was my idea. I told Jared to use the software since he showed me how good it was one time." John said, walking into the room.
"If the Torchwood server was able to track down how many kids were taken over by the 456 in 2009. A tracker isn't too out of the question." I said, sipping on my mocha. "I've experimented with it a lot during Miracle Day."
Mary turns to look at John. He looks back at her straight-faced and her smile slowly drops.
Hotel...
Night falls outside, and the call to prayer can be heard. Mary has taken off her dark wig to reveal her blonde hair tied back. John is sitting on the corner of the low table while she stands in front of him.
"AGRA." John said.
"Yes." Mary said.
"Mm-hm. You said it was your initials."
Mary bites her lip, "In a way, that was true."
"In a way?" John asked, shaking his head and looks away. "So many lies."
"I'm so sorry." Mary said.
"I don't just mean you."
"What?"
"Alex, Gabriel, Ajay ... You're 'R.'" John said, and Mary nods her head, with the army doctor looking up at her, a small tight smile on his face. "Rosamund."
"Rosamund Mary." Mary said, after a slight smile, while John nods. "I always liked 'Mary.'"
"Yeah, me too." John said, smiling, as his smile drops and he looks away. "I used to."
John stands up and walks away a few paces.
"I ju... I didn't know what else to do." Mary said.
"You could have stayed." John said, turning back to Mary. "You could have talked to me." His voice becomes more angry. "That's what couples are supposed to do: work things through."
"If the Doctor and River Song can work things through." I said, while Mary shrugs in agreement. "So can you and Mary, John."
"If it works out, Jared." John said, sadly.
"Yes." Mary said, nodding her head. "Yes, of course."
"Mary, I may not be a very good man, but I think I'm a bit better than you give me credit for, most of the time." John said, walking closer to Mary.
"All the time. You're always a good man, John. I've never doubted that. You never judge; you never complain. I don't deserve you. I ..." Mary said, trailing off and John looks at her questioningly. "All I ever wanted to do was keep you and Rosie safe, and I wanted to keep Jared safe as well since this is beyond what he knows, that's all."
John reaches out and puts his hand on top of Mary's clasped hands. Nearby, Sherlock has been sitting on a chair at the other end of the room throughout their conversation, his hands clasped in his lap and his head lowered. He has his jacket on over his shirt. Now he looks up briefly towards the couple before lowering his head again.
"I will keep you safe." Sherlock said, as John takes his hand away again, and the consultant detective stands. "But it has to be in London. It's my city; I know the turf." Mary glances towards Sherlock briefly then returns her gaze to John, who looks away. "Come home and everything will be all right, I promise you."
The red dot of a laser appears on the wall behind the Watsons and then shifts onto the side of John's head. Mary is unsighted and can't see it but I yell out urgently.
"Get down!" I said, angrily.
Instantly Mary grabs John and pulls him downwards. Sherlock leans down, grabs the low table and flips it up onto one side to provide a barrier against the shooter, with me hiding behind the low table. John goes to his hands and knees while Mary runs for the far side of the room, rummaging in her shoulder bag as she goes. Several shots are fired through the closed latticed door and then the man we now know as Ajay kicks the door open and marches in, his rifle raised in front of him. Mary fires three shots from her pistol and Ajay takes cover around the corner of the doorway to the room. Mary drops to a crouch beside a bureau at the end of the room, Sherlock half kneels between the other side of the bureau and another taller cabinet near the entrance, and John half sits up next to me behind the upturned table.
"Hello again." Ajay said, happily.
"Ajay?" Mary asked.
"Oh, you remember me. I'm touched."
"Look, I thought you were dead, believe me, I did."
"I've been looking forward to this for longer than you can imagine."
"I swear to you, I thought you were dead. I thought I was the only one who got out." Mary said.
Ajay moves out of the corner, still obscured from Mary's and Sherlock's view, and fires a single shot into the upturned table behind which John is crouching with his arms against it to keep it upright. Not looking round, Sherlock stretches out a hand towards Mary and without hesitation she gives him her pistol.
"How did you find us?" Sherlock asked, holding Mary's pistol.
"By following you, Sherlock Holmes. I mean, you're clever – you found her – but I found you, so perhaps not so clever. And now here we are, at last." Ajay said.
Sherlock looks around and raises his eyes to the light hanging from the ceiling. He stands up, fires at the light and shatters it, then swings the pistol round to aim at Ajay's position. Ajay drops down to a crouch. He chuckles.
"Touché." Ajay said.
"Listen: whatever you think you know, we can talk about this. We can work it out." John said.
"She thought I was dead. I might as well have been."
"It was always just the four of us, always, remember?" Mary asked.
"Oh yeah." Ajay said, scoffing.
"So, A.G.R.A. is basically Team RWBY then." I said, sadly.
"In a way. Yes. But instead of being heroes like Team RWBY. We're the villains." Mary said, frowning. "So why d'you want to kill me?"
"D'you know how long they kept me prisoner; what they did to me? They tortured Alex to death." Ajay said, breathing out a brief sigh. "I can still hear the sound of his back breaking." I closed my eyes to imagine a shadow of the long-haired man being flogged. "But you, you – where were you?"
"That day at the embassy, I escaped." Mary said.
"Oh, yeah." Ajay said, on an angry breath.
"But I lost sight of you too, so you explain: where were you?"
"Oh, I got out ... for a while." Ajay said, as I thought about him ducking down while pottery and coloured glaze powder exploded around him. "Long enough to hide my memory stick." I then thought about him shoving the stick into the plaster bust. "I didn't want that to fall into their hands." The third thing I thought about was the gold-toothed man knocking him out in the pottery workshop. "I was loyal, you see; loyal to my friends. But they took me, tortured me. Not for information." I finally thought about the gold-toothed man firmly cradling Ajay's head with one hand while holding up a pair of surgical scissors with the other. Ajay cries out. "Not for anything except fun."
"How was it not fun?" I asked, and I thought about the gold-toothed man grins manically into Ajay's face while he groaned.
I looked over at John, now on his hands and knees behind the table, drops his head down and then sinking down to press his head against the backs of his hands.
"Oh, I'll tell you. Oh, they thought I'd give in, die, but I didn't. I lived, and eventually they forgot about me just rotting in a cell somewhere. Six years they kept me there, until one day I saw my chance. Oh, and I-I made them pay. You know, all the time I was there, I just kept picking up things – little whispers, laughter, gossip: how the clever agents had been betrayed." Ajay said.
John looks across the room in front of him and sees an open bag lying on the floor a short distance away. There's a pistol in it.
"Brought down by you." Ajay said, looking at Mary.
"Me?" Mary asked.
A train whistles as it goes past the window, its light briefly illuminating the room. Ajay rises from his hiding place and at the same moment Mary breaks from cover and heads across the room, grabbing the pistol which Sherlock is already holding out to her. Simultaneously John rises to a low crouch and scrambles across to the bag to grab the other gun. As Ajay comes around the corner Mary is already there to meet him and they stop inches away from each other aiming their guns at the other's head. John drops to his knees behind a stool and braces his arms on top of it, aiming his pistol at Ajay with both hands. Everyone, including me, stops moving and Ajay lets out a voiceless gasp at the sight of the woman he despises.
"You know I'll kill you too. You know I will, Ajay." Mary said, calmly.
"What, you think I care if I die?" Ajay asked, breathing heavily and lowering one hand from his gun and takes half a step forward.
Standing nearby, Sherlock shifts position slightly, his eyes locked on him.
"I've dreamed of killing you every night for six years ..." Ajay said, leaning slightly forward so that the end of Mary's gun is touching his forehead, before speaking savagely. "... of squeezing the life out of your treacherous, lying throat."
"I swear to you, Ajay." Mary said.
John briefly rises up a little on his knees, his gun still aimed up at Ajay, then drops back down again, his teeth bared.
"What did you hear, Ajay? When you were a prisoner, what exactly did you hear?" Sherlock asked, calmly, quietly.
John glances across to him as he speaks then looks back towards Ajay and blows out a quiet breath.
"What did I hear?" Ajay asked, opening his mouth to form a word but hesitates for a moment before he manages to say it. "Ammo. Every day as they tore into me. Ammo. Ammo." His voice starts to tremble. "Ammo." Ajay takes in a shaky breath. "Ammo." His gun hand begins to tremble causing Mary to grimace slightly, perhaps realising that he is in danger of losing control, and he speaks savagely. "We were betrayed!"
"Did they say it was her? Did they say it was Mary?" I asked, leaning behind the upturned table.
"You betrayed us!" Ajay yelled, looking at Mary.
"They said her name?" Sherlock asked, firmly.
"Yeah, they said it was the English woman." Ajay said.
A Moroccan policeman comes into the room and fires two shots into Ajay's back. Mary screams as he drops.
"No! No!" Mary said, dropping her gun, she bends down to him and John hurries to join her.
As the policeman stands in the doorway with his gun still raised, Karim walks in carrying a tray containing four silver cups with mint leaves sticking out of them. He stops as John bends down and puts his fingers to Ajay's neck, and Karim drops the tray which crashes to the floor.
Hotel / Mycroft's Office...
Mycroft stands in the corner of the room behind his desk with one elbow on the top of a filing cabinet. He is holding his phone to his ear with the other hand.
"The English woman. That's all he heard." Sherlock said, putting the phone in speaker mode.
"Yeah. They thought it was Mary." I said, standing near Sherlock's phone.
"Couldn't this wait until the two of you are back?" Mycroft asked.
"No, it's not over. Ajay said that they'd been betrayed. The hostage takers knew AGRA were coming. There was only a voice on the phone, remember, and a code word." Sherlock said, still in the same room in Morocco with me, although it seems that Ajay's body has been removed.
"Ammo, yes, you said."
"How's your Latin, brother dear?" Sherlock asked.
"My Latin?" Mycroft asked, frowning.
"Amo, amas, amat."
"I love, you love, he loves. What ...?" Mycroft asked, still frowning as he translates the Latin words.
"Yeah. That's what is stomping me." I said, while Mycroft stops as he figured it out. "I can't remember everything. The last time I heard Latin was in Pompeii."
"That was because you were traveling across all of time and space at the time."
"Not 'ammo' as in 'ammunition' but 'amo,' meaning ...?" Sherlock asked.
Mycroft raises an eyebrow then starts to straighten up, his face stern.
"You'd better be right, Sherlock, Jared." Mycroft said, hanging up.
Sherlock does likewise, and the Holmes brothers start to move away, with me following the consulting detective.
(Open POV)
PARLIAMENTARY BUILDING...
Lady Smallwood walks along a corridor with Vivian the secretary following her holding a folder. They reach a glass door which has a security panel on a stand. Lady Smallwood holds her security pass against it and it beeps and shows a red message reading ACCESS DENIED. She touches the pass to the panel again but it beeps and shows the same message. Looking exasperated, she tries again with the same result. Behind her, Sir Edwin and a uniformed security guard approach.
"Bloody thing." Lady Smallwood said, turning and sees the new arrivals.
Lady Smallwood looks at the security guard as he walks to stand between her and the closed door, then turns to Sir Edwin.
"What's going on?" Lady Smallwood asked.
"I'm very sorry, Lady Smallwood. Your security protocols have been temporarily rescinded." Sir Edwin said.
"What?!"
The security guard takes one of her arms and puts his other hand against her back and starts to walk her back along the corridor. Vivian follows them.
Airplane...
Sherlock sits in an aisle seat with his eyes closed. The Watsons are and Jared in the row in front of him. Despite there being three seats, they are not sitting side by side: Mary is in the aisle seat with her head propped up on one hand and her eyes closed, Jared is sitting in the middle seat to separate the married couple, and John is in the window seat looking towards the window.
John's own voice sounds in his head, "So many lies. I don't just mean you."
An image of the woman who smiled at John on the bus appears on the plane's window. He turns away and looks at Jared and his sleeping wife.
Bus...
John glances again towards the red-haired woman and smiles to himself. She also smiles towards him, then looks away, licks her lips and then bites her lower lip. John gets off the bus and looks into the side window, seeing his reflection and the flower tucked behind his ear.
"Oh, sh..." John said, quietly to himself.
He takes the flower from his ear and raises his eyes to the heavens as the bus pulls away. He turns, and the woman is standing beside him, smiling.
"Hello." A woman said, in a Scottish accent.
"Ah. Hello."
"I like your daisy!" The woman said, excitedly.
"Thank you, yeah. It's not really me, though, I don't think." John said.
"No?"
"No."
"Shame." The woman said, fiddling with her hair.
"No, it's too floral for me. I'm more of a knackered-with-weary-old-eyes kind of guy."
"Well, I think they're nice." The woman said, pausing, looking a little awkward, but then presses on. "Nice eyes."
"Thank you!" John said, laughing, before briefly rubbing his left hand across his nose and turning away for a moment, shaking his head as if in disbelief that this pretty woman is flirting with him.
"Look, look ... I don't normally do this but, um ..." The woman said, while she starts to rummage in her handbag.
"But you're gonna."
"Yeah!" The woman said, sounding nervous, scribbling onto the piece of paper she'd been holding on the bus.
John smiles and steps closer, looking down at the paper, "What's this?"
"This is me." The woman said, handing him the paper and backs away, smiling nervously and rubbing the back of her head while keeping her eyes fixed on the paper John's holding.
"Thank you. Cheers." John said, smiling.
"Yeah, okay, 'bye!" The woman yelled, turning away quickly before hurrying off.
"'Bye." John said, staring after the woman, frowning in mild disbelief, then looks down at the paper and smiles.
John turns and walks in the opposite direction but then stops, looking at the paper again and still smiling. He puts down his briefcase and takes his phone from his pocket. Activating it, he sees his screensaver picture of him sitting on the sofa at home with his arm around his wife who is cradling their newborn daughter. He and Mary are smiling at people off-camera. He looks up, grimacing, and takes a couple of steps to a nearby rubbish bin. He pushes his hand into the gap and almost drops the piece of paper into the bin but then hesitates. He looks up and smiles, then starts to grimace again.
Watsons' home...
John is sitting at the kitchen table, he unfolds the piece of paper and looks at it. The woman has written:
07700 900 552
E xx
John looks at it for a long time, then lifts his head and lets out a silent laugh. He looks down at it again, then picks up his phone, opens up a New Contact and types 'E' before adding the phone number and saving it. John immediately sends a text message reading simply, 'Hey'. He puts the phone down on the table and gets up and walks away. A few moments later the phone chimes and a message appears. It too simply reads, 'Hey'.
With no indication yet whether this is the same day or is days or even weeks later, the Watsons are lying side by side in bed with their eyes closed.
"No, you'd think we'd have noticed when she was born." Mary said.
"Hm? Noticed what?" John asked.
"The little '666' on her forehead."
John hums thoughtfully, "That's 'The Omen.'"
Mary opens her eyes and looks across to John, "So?"
"Well, you said it was like 'The Exorcist.' They're two different things. She can't be the Devil and the Antichrist."
Mary sighs and closes her eyes. From the next bedroom, Rosie starts to cry. John opens his eyes and lifts his head slightly and they both look in the direction of the sound.
"Yeah, can't she?" Mary asked.
John groans and drops his head back onto the pillow.
Mary throws back her side of the duvet and gets up, "Coming, darling."
John pushes the top of the duvet down a little and presses the backs of his hands over his eyes for a moment.
Mary heads for the other bedroom, "I'm coming."
On his bedside table, John's phone buzzes an incoming message. He rolls over and picks up the phone.
"Oh, what are you doing?! What are you doing?!" Mary exclaimed, in a soothing voice nearby, over the sound of Rosie wailing.
As Mary continues chatting to her daughter, John looks at his phone. His eyebrows raise at what he sees, then he frowns. The message reads:
It's been too long.
John looks across the room towards Rosie's bedroom as Mary continues to try and soothe the crying baby.
"Come on. It's okay." Mary said, nearby, soothingly.
John looks back to his phone and types:
I know. Sorry.
After a few moments, the reply comes back:
Miss you.
John looks across to his bedside table for a moment, presumably looking at his clock, then goes back to the phone and types:
You're up late.
There's no reply for a few seconds and John again looks across towards Rosie's room as she continues to wail. Then a new message comes in:
Or early.
Glancing again towards the other bedroom, John types:
Night owl?
The reply comes back almost immediately:
Vampire
John quirks a grin.
"Oh, you're not gonna stop crying, are you? I know: shall we go see Daddy?" Mary asked, nearby.
Quickly typing and sending
:)
John rolls over and puts the phone face down on the bedside table. The clock on the table shows that it's five o'clock.
"Let's go and see Daddy! Daddy's here." Mary said, walking into the bedroom carrying the baby and kissing her head."It's okay, Rosie."
John throws back the duvet on his side, "I'll take her."
"Yeah." Mary said.
"Yeah, I may as well get up now." John said, getting out of bed and putting one knee on the bed and reaching out for his grizzling daughter.
"Hey, baby, it's Daddy!" Mary said, holding Rosie up and noisily kisses her cheek a few times. "It's your daddy!"
Kneeling on the bed, Mary hands her daughter to John.
"Come here, Rose." John said, smiling.
"Yeah!" Mary said, excitedly.
"Come here, darling. It's all right." John said, kissing the baby's cheek.
Mary gets back into bed, "Ah, thank you."
There is the phone lying on John's bedside table. Rosie continues to fret nearby. After a few seconds, John reaches down and picks up the phone before walking away with it.
DAY TIME...
Sitting on the top deck of a bus, John types a new message into his phone:
This isn't a good idea.
I'm not free.
Things won't end well.
It was nice to get to know
you a little.
Partway into typing the message he stands up and walks to the top of the stairs, still typing one-handed. Someone rings the bell to alert the driver to stop at the next stop and John walks down the stairs, the message still unsent. Downstairs, when the bus stops and the doors open, he gets off, stops a couple of paces away and adds:
I'm sorry.
Sighing, he sends the message. Grimacing a little, he looks around. The mystery woman is sitting on the bus stop bench smiling at him. John smiles and her own smile widens. John grimaces a bit, baring his teeth, and looks down at his phone and the sent message, then briefly raises his eyebrows and looks across to the woman again.
On the hoarding is a photo of a man in his fifties with a grimace on his face. Beside his head are the words 'HE'S BACK' and at the bottom of the poster, partially obscured by John's body, are the words
A ROWBANE...
BUSINESS...
SERIES ...
IT'S MURDER IN THE... COMING...
Airplane...
John stares blankly out of the plane window, lost in thought.
DIOGENES CLUB...
In a room similar to but much smaller than Mycroft's office – and looking very like the type of room in which Jim Moriarty was interrogated – Lady Smallwood sits at a small table facing Mycroft seated on the other side. A mirror is behind her, reflecting both of them. Mycroft's hands are clasped in front of him on the table and he is rapidly tapping one finger against the other hand.
"This is absolutely ridiculous and you know it. How many more times?" Lady Smallwood asked.
"Six years ago you held the brief for foreign operations, code name 'Love'." Mycroft said.
"And you're basing all this on a code name? On a whispered voice on the telephone? Come on, Mycroft."
"You were the conduit for AGRA. Every assignment, every detail, they got from you."
"It was my job."
"Then there was the Tbilisi incident. AGRA went in." Mycroft said, unfolding his hands and sitting back.
"Yes."
"And they were betrayed."
"Not by me." Lady Smallwood said, firmly.
Mycroft just looks at her. Lady Smallwood takes in a breath and sighs it out.
"Mycroft, we've known each other a long time. I promise you, I haven't the foggiest idea what all this is about. You wound up AGRA and all the other freelancers." Lady Smallwood said, slowly, emphatically. "I haven't done any of the things you're accusing me of. Not one." She spoke even more emphatically. "Not. One."
Mycroft looks down at the table for a moment, then turns his head to look to his left. On the other side of a one-way mirror stands Sherlock and Jared, watching thoughtfully. Mycroft lowers his gaze and sits forward again, adjusting his jacket.
THE WATSONS' HOME...
John is standing in the living room and now turns to face Mary who is sitting on the sofa.
"D'you think she'll like bedtime stories? I'd like to do those." John said, happily.
"Yeah?!" Mary exclaimed, smiling.
"Yeah, I just make a series of gurgling noises at the moment – although she does seem to enjoy 'em." John said, sitting down at the other end of the sofa and picks up a glass of red wine.
"Well, I'll have to give that a go!" Mary said, as John smiles round to her and takes a drink, causing the former assassin to look reflective. "Got a lot to catch up on."
Vauxhall Bridge...
It is daytime and Sherlock is walking slowly across Vauxhall Bridge with Jared. He stops and turns to face the river, his gaze distant and his eyes rapidly flickering back and forth as various memories come to him.
"You think you understand. You understand nothing." Ajay said.
Two Thatcher busts appear before Sherlock's mind's eye overlaid with flying plaster dust before they are visually shattered.
Welsborough house...
Sherlock looks across to the Thatcher shrine table. Simultaneously a shattered bust lifts off the floor and reassembles itself before flying up out of sight.
"Code names Antarctica, Langdale, Porlock and Love ..." Mycroft said.
A hammer smashes down onto the first of Orrie Harker's Thatcher busts.
WELSBOROUGH HOUSE / WATSON'S HOME....
Mary stands holding Rosie, looking into her phone's camera as she talks to Sherlock and Jared over Skype.
"You'd be amazed what a receptionist picks up. It's as good as a journalist." Mary said, lowering her voice to a dramatic whisper. "They know everything."
Hotel...
More plaster shatters, and Ajay's memory stick lies amongst the fragments.
"They said it was the English woman." Ajay said.
More plaster shatters.
Vauxhall Bridge...
"Don't minute any of this." Mycroft said, in Jared's head.
"They know everything." Mary said, in Jared's head.
"Jared, how bad is it?" Sherlock asked, turning his head to the right, staring at Jared.
"Out of ten? Eleven." Jared said, sadly.
Sherlock and Jared break into a run, heading for the distinctive SIS Building, also known as the headquarters of MI6.
THE WATSONS' HOME...
Mary and John are still sitting on the sofa, Mary with her feet curled up under her.
"You don't make it easy, do you?" Mary asked.
"What d'you mean?" John asked.
"Well, being ..." Mary said, shifting round and putting her feet on the floor, before clearing her throat "... being so perfect."
Mary puts her right elbow on her knee and rests her forehead on the heel of her hand.
John looks at Mary for a moment, then takes a breath and leans forward, "Mary ... I-I need to tell you ..."
Mary's phone buzzes and chirps a text alert.
"Hang on." Mary said, sadly.
Even as she picks up her phone, John's phone also chirps an alert. Mary's message reads:
The curtain rises.
The last act.
It's not over. SH
John's message reads:
London Aquarium.
Come immediately. SH
"Can you tell me later?" Mary asked.
"Yeah." John said.
"Great."
"Yeah."
They both stand up and head towards the front door but then Mary stops and turns around.
"Well, no, we can't just go." Mary said, frowning.
"Rosie." John said, letting out a sigh.
"Yeah."
"Uh, you go." John said, getting his phone back out of his jeans pocket.
"No!" Mary yelled.
"I'll, um, come as soon as I've found someone. Mrs Hudson."
"Corfu 'til Saturday. Molly."
"Uh, yeah, I'll try." John said, typing into his phone.
"Well, we should both stay and wait for her." Mary said.
"You know that's not gonna happen. If there's more to this case, you're the one who needs to see it."
"Yeah, okay. You win." Mary said, heading for the door while John continues texting.
(Jared's POV)
COUNTY HALL, SOUTH BANK...
It is nighttime and inside the Sea Life London Aquarium housed inside County Hall, Sherlock and I make our way along the blue-lit corridors and through the glass tunnels under the water.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the Aquarium will be closing in five minutes. Please make your way to the exit. Thank you." Someone on the speaker said.
Sherlock and I continue onwards until we reach an enclosed area with benches where people can sit and look at the various tanks all around. A woman is sitting on one of the benches with her back to us.
"Your office said we'd find you here." Sherlock said.
"At the aquarium. Not a bad spot." I said, happily. "I can see why it appealed to Cardcaptor Sakura. But why did you choose it?"
"This was always my favourite spot for agents to meet." Vivian said, continuing looking forward into a tank of sharks and other smaller fish. "We're like them: ghostly, living in the shadows."
Vivian turns to look at Sherlock and I. Behind us, fluorescent jellyfish swim in another tank.
"Predatory." Sherlock said, grabbing my hand.
"Well, it depends which side you're on." Vivian said, turning away to look into the shark tank again. "Also, we have to keep moving or we die."
"Nice location for the final act. Couldn't have chosen it better myself. But then I never could resist a touch of the dramatic." Sherlock said, squeezing my hand.
"When the people I care about, their lives are on the line. Honestly. Same." I said, smiling.
"I just come here to look at the fish." Vivian said, standing up and takes a few steps closer to the tank. "I knew this would happen one day." She turns to face Sherlock and I, her handbag hanging from her elbow. "It's like that old story."
"I really am a very busy man. And Jared wanted to play video games on his Nintendo Switch. Would you mind cutting to the chase?" Sherlock asked.
"Mr Holmes, you and your friend are very sure of yourselves, aren't you?" Vivian asked.
"With good reason." Sherlock said, precisely.
"There was once a merchant in a famous market in Baghdad."
Sherlock closes his eyes and lowers his head a little, "I really have never liked this story."
"I'm just like the merchant in the story. I thought I could outrun the inevitable. I've always been looking over my shoulder; always expecting to see the grim figure of ..." Vivian said.
"... Death." Mary said, coming into the room and stops at Sherlock's side and my side a couple of feet away from us.
"Hello, Mary." Sherlock said, not looking around.
"Hi." I said, as Sherlock squeezed my hand.
"Hey." Mary said.
"So where's John?"
"On his way."
"Mary Watson. Meet Vivian Rook." I said, letting out a sigh. "Also known as Amo."
"You were Amo?" Mary asked, staring at Vivian as Sherlock and I looked round to her. "You were the person on the phone that time?"
"Using AGRA as her private assassination unit." Sherlock said.
"Why did you betray us?" Mary asked, looking at Vivian.
"Why does anyone do anything?" Vivian asked.
"Oh, let me guess. Selling secrets?" Sherlock asked.
"Well, it would be churlish to refuse. Worked very well for a few years. I bought a nice cottage in Cornwall on the back of it. But the ambassador in Tbilisi found out. I thought I'd had it." Vivian said, looking towards Mary before returning her gaze to Sherlock and I. "Then she was taken hostage in that coup." She laughs. "I couldn't believe my luck! That bought me a little time."
"But then you found out your boss had sent AGRA in."
"Very handy. They were always such reliable killers."
"What you didn't know, Mary, was that this one also tipped off the hostage-takers."
Mary turns and stares at Sherlock.
"Lady Smallwood gave the order, but I sent another one to the terrorists with a nice little clue about her code name should anyone have an enquiring mind." Vivian said, sitting back down and resting her handbag on her lap. "Seemed to do the trick."
"And you thought your troubles were over." Mary said.
"I was tired; tired of the mess of it all." Vivian said, sighing. "I just wanted some peace, some clarity. The hostages were killed, AGRA too ..." She looks across to Mary. "... or so I thought. My secret was safe. But apparently not. Just a little peace. That's all you wanted too, wasn't it? A family, home. Really, I understand." Mary glances across to Sherlock and I but our gaze is fixed on Vivian, who lifts her handbag as if in preparation to stand, and rests one hand on the open top of it. "So just let me get out of here, right? Let me just walk away. I'll vanish. I'll go forever. What d'you say?"
"After what you did?!" Mary exclaimed, furiously, starting to walk towards the older woman.
"Mary, no!" I said, beginning to follow Mary with Sherlock by my side. "Don't!"
In a fluid movement Vivian stands, pulling a pistol from her handbag and aiming it at Mary, who stops and backs away.
"Okay." Mary said, moving back to stand the other side of Sherlock and I.
(Open POV)
Taxi...
John is in the back of a cab with a phone to his ear.
"London Aquarium. ... Yes, now." John said, talking into his phone before hanging up.
(Jared's POV)
Aquarium...
Vivian looks down at her pistol which she's no longer pointing at anyone, "I was never a field agent. I always thought I'd be rather good."
Mary scoffs.
"Well, you handled the operation in Tbilisi very well." Sherlock said, smirking.
"Thanks." Vivian said, happily.
"... for a secretary."
"What?"
"Can't have been easy all those years, sitting in the back keeping your mouth shut when you knew you were cleverer than most of the people in the room."
"I didn't do this out of jealousy!" Vivian yelled.
"No? Same old drudge, day in, day out, never getting out there where all the excitement was. Just back to your little flat on Wigmore Street." Sherlock said, and Vivian gapes. "They've taken up the pavement outside the Post Office there. The local clay on your shoes is very distinctive." He looked down at Vivian's dusty shoes. "Yes, your little flat."
"How do you know?""Well, on your salary it would have to be modest and you spent all the money on that cottage, didn't you, and what are you, widowed or divorced?" Sherlock asked, talking in a quickfire rate before looking at a plain gold band on the index finger of Vivian's left hand. "Wedding ring's at least thirty years old and you've moved it to another finger. That means you're sentimentally attached to it but you're not still married. I favour widowed, given the number of cats you share your life with."
"Sherlock ..." Mary said, nervously, watching Vivian closely.
"Please..." I said, squeezing Sherlock's hand. "Don't deduce her."
"Jared, I have to." Sherlock said, looking over at me for a moment before looking back at Vivian. "Two Burmese and a tortoiseshell, judging by the cat hairs on your cardigan." He looks at the hairs on Vivian's cardigan, before talking in a quickfire rate. "A divorcee's more likely to look for a new partner; a widow to fill the void left by her dead husband."
"Sherlock, don't." Mary said, sadly.
"Please..." I said, letting out a lot of tears.
"Pets do that, or so I'm told, and there's clearly no-one new in your life, otherwise you wouldn't be spending your Friday nights in an aquarium." Sherlock said, talking in a quickfire rate, his voice rising as he fully gets into his stride. "That probably accounts for the drink problem, too: the slight tremor in your hand ..." He looks at Vivian slightly shaking gun hand, then he looks at her mouth "... the red wine stain ghosting your top lip. So yes. I say jealousy was your motive after all – to prove how good you are ..." Vivian's gaze turns to look towards the entrance as Mycroft walks in. "... to make up for the inadequacies of your little life."
Vivian is still looking to where Greg now comes in followed by three uniformed police officers.
"Well, Mrs Norbury. I must admit this is unexpected." Mycroft said.
"Vivian Norbury, who outsmarted them all. All except Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
I let go of Sherlock's hand as he takes a step forward, holding out his left hand.
Mary, the police officers behind her, and I also step forward.
"There's no way out." Sherlock said, softly.
"So it would seem." Vivian said, smiling a little. "You've seen right through me, Mr Holmes."
"It's what I do." Sherlock said, smugly.
Vivian tilts her head to one side.
"Maybe I can still surprise you." Vivian said, swiftly, she brings up the gun and aims it at me.
"Come on." Lestrade said, pointing at Vivian. "Be sensible."
"I guess this is it." I said, holding my hands out to the side. "I have to protect Mary."
Vivian shakes her head, "No, I don't think so."
Vivian fires. In super-slow motion the bullet heads towards me who stands there unmoving. Mary, who had no doubt anticipated that this was going to happen, hurls herself sideways in front of me and the bullet impacts her lower chest.
"Mary!" I said, when blood sprays outward and immediately there is a large bloodstain on Mary's shirt. "Damn it! I could handle it!"
"No, you can't." Mary said, crying out, she fell to the floor against a nearby bench. "You really can't, Jared."
"Surprise." Vivian said, spitefully.
Mary rolls over to slump against the back of the bench, gasping in pain. As two of the police officers hurry over to Vivian to disarm her, Sherlock stares at Mary in shock, then drops to his knees to press his gloved hand against the wound. She looks up at him, her eyes wide, and whimpers.
"Everything's fine. It's gonna be okay." Sherlock said, looking round to Mycroft. "Get an ambulance."
Mycroft turns and hurries away just as John runs in.
"Mary, we're here." I said, grabbing Mary's hand. "No need to worry. I'm here. And so is John and Sherlock." I looked down at Mary. "Everything's okay. Your Baker Street Boys are here."
"It's all right, it's all right." Sherlock said, looking down at Mary.
"Mary!" John said, racing to drop down by Mary's side.
"John!" Mary said, breathing heavily.
Sherlock and I stand up and we step back and John jams his right hand against the wound, applying pressure to it, and holds the back of her head with his other hand.
"Mary? Mary?" John asked, while Mary looks up at him. "Stay with me. Stay with me."
"Oh, come on." Mary said, annoyed.
"No, don't worry. Don't worry."
"Oh, come on, Doctor, you can do better than that." Mary said, as her voice breaks on the last word.
Sherlock and I stared down at her, with the consulting detective's face full of shock as mine is full of tears.
"Come on, Mary." John said, and Mary sobs. "Mary, come on."
"God, John, I think this is it." Mary said, sadly.
"No-no-no-no, it's not." John said, looking down to the wound, lifting his hand briefly from it before pressing onto it again.
"You made me so happy." Mary said, while John looks at her and forces a smile. "You gave me everything I could ever, ever ..."
"Shh-shh."
"... want."
"Mary, Mary ..." John said, gently shushing Mary, and ran his free hand over her forehead.
"Look after Rosie. You and Jared." Mary said, tearfully, as John shushes her again. "Promise me."
"I promise." John said, in a whisper.
"No." Mary said, sobbing.
"Yes, I promise." John said, talking louder.
"Promise me." Mary said, sobbing.
"I promise. I promise."
"I promise I'll look after Rosie. When's John gone from the world." I said, and Mary stroked her hand down the side of John's face as he continued trying to shush her. "She'll always have someone to look after her."
"Thank you, Jared." Mary said, looking over at me. "Thank you." She looks up at Sherlock, before speaking tearfully. "Hey, Sherlock."
"Yes?" Sherlock asked, still looking down at Mary in shock.
"I ... so like you and Jared." Mary said, while Mycroft comes back in with his phone in his hand and stands a short distance away, and the former assassin is still looking at Sherlock. "Did I ever say?"
Sherlock smiles slightly, his eyes filling with tears.
"Yes. Yes, y-you did." Sherlock said, pressing his lips together, apparently trying to hold back his tears.
"I'm sorry ... for shooting you that time and Jared that other time. I'm really sorry." Mary said, frowning.
"It's-it's all right." Sherlock said, softly, trying to force another smile.
"I think the three of us are even now, okay?" Mary asked.
"Okay." Sherlock said, softly, nodding.
"Shit." I said, while Mary yelped with pain. "Mary..."
"Mary. Mary." John said.
"I think the three of us are even; definitely ev... even." Mary said, her head turning away from Sherlock and she looks at John, then gasps against the pain as he continues trying to shush her, as the former assassin is sobbing. "You ..." She stares into her husband's eyes, while continuing to sob. "You were my whole world."
Grimacing with his teeth bared, John rears his head back, his eyes screwed shut in anguish, before lowering it down, his breath shuddering against his tears.
"Being Mary Watson ..." Mary said, now forcing out the words against the pain, with John raises his head to meet her gaze. "... was the only life worth living."
"Mary." John said, softly.
"Thank you." Mary said, her head dropping and she dies.
John draws in a breath, before speaking in a whisper, "Mary."
John reaches to touch Mary's chin with his bloodstained fingers, then drops his hand. Sherlock, Greg, Mycroft, and I watch silently. For a long several seconds nobody moves, then John lifts his hand again to put his fingers against the pulse point on Mary's neck. With his other hand he cradles her head and rests his chin on top of it, staring vacantly into the distance, then he moves his head to the side of her head. Lifting up again, he looks at her open blank eyes and his bloody fingerprints against the side of her neck. Sherlock stares down at them as if he cannot believe what has happened. John's head drops, and an animalistic howl comes from his clenched teeth. He draws in a breath and howls again, and then again. Sherlock reaches out a hand to touch him but before he can make contact John's head comes up, his teeth clenched and his face full of murderous rage. He glares up at Sherlock, breathing heavily.
"Don't you dare." John said, savagely taking several harsh breaths, before continuing to talk savagely in a soft tone. "You made a vow, Sherlock. You swore it."
His eyes wide with shock, Sherlock starts to step back. Nearby, Greg raises his head from the appalling scene and looks across to Mycroft, who returns his gaze. With tears pouring down his face, John turns back to Mary, strokes her hair back and puts his mouth close to her ear.
"Mary." John said, in a tiny whisper.
"Mary. She was so much like River Song." I said, while I walked towards John, sitting, cradling his dead wife. "I think that's why I loved them so much. Because the two really cared. This hurts. This really hurts."
"It does." John said, as Greg passes his hand over his face and Mycroft watches his brother, Sherlock slowly begins to back away. "Jared, promise me you won't die like Mary. And that you'll stick around"
"I won't. I promise. I'll also look after Rosie for you."
"Thank you."
(Open POV)
Aquarium...
Jared closed his eyes to think about another tank above the room, and a shark swims by, and at dark corridor along which two police officers are escorting Vivian Norbury. From the look on her face, she has finally realised the seriousness of what she has done, and what the future holds for her.
Crematorium...
A coffin is surrounded by blue flames.
Graveyard...
Once again John Watson has no choice but to walk across a graveyard, but this time, he has Jared Shay by his side.
Watsons' home...
Jared looked over at John's eyes, full of pain.
"Jared, thank you." John said, pacing across his living room, repeatedly clenching and unclenching his left hand, the one in which he used to have a tremor.
"You're welcome." Jared said, picking up the various baby items scattered around the room. "The reason why Mary reminded me so much of River. It's because they were amazing."
"I know." John said, as on the kitchen table, his mobile phone buzzes repeatedly but he doesn't move towards it, now stopped in the living room and gazing in anguish at me. "What do we do?"
"Without Mary? I don't know."
As the phone continues to buzz relentlessly, John starts to move again, although it might be that he's simply rocking from side to side on the spot.
Ella's office...
"You've been having dreams. A recurring dream?" Ella asked, looking across to the chair facing her. "D'you want to talk about it?" She waits for a while, while a clock ticks noisily in the background. Apart from that sound, the silence drags on. "This is a two-way relationship, you know."
Ella smiles encouragingly. After a few more seconds of silence during which she fiddles idly with her pen, she draws in a breath and breathes out again.
"The whole world has come crashing down around you. Everything's hopeless, irretrievable. I know that's what you must feel, but I can only help you if you completely open yourself up to me." Ella said, as she was talking, she has been looking at the opposite chair, towards her client who's sitting there.
"That's not really my style." Sherlock said, meeting Ella's gaze for a moment, then lowers his eyes and turns his head away, looking uncomfortable. "I need to know what to do."
"Do?" Ella asked.
"About John and Jared." Sherlock said, softly, his gaze distant.
MYCROFT'S HOME...
Mycroft walks into his kitchen, leans his umbrella against a wall and puts down his briefcase. Straightening up and stretching his back with a loud crunching sound, he rubs the back of his neck as he walks across to the fridge and sighs as he opens the door. He looks inside and although we can't see directly into it, it appears that there's nothing much – if anything – in there. Sighing again, he closes the door. Attached near the top of the door with a fridge magnet is a takeaway menu for a restaurant called Reigate Square. Other takeaway menus are attached lower down, including one for a Thai restaurant with an elephant on the cover. He pulls the top menu from underneath its magnet, revealing a large square Post-It note on which has been written '13th', double underlined. Looking at the note for a long moment, Mycroft then reaches into his waistcoat to take out a pocket watch on a chain. Looking at it, he then puts it away and turns to a nearby telephone.
Mycroft picks up the phone, dials what appears to be a speed-dial number and puts it to his ear, "Put me through to Sherrinford, please. ... Yes, I'll wait."
(Jared's POV)
BAKER STREET....
It is daytime.
"Nothing will ever be the same again, will it?" Mrs Hudson asked, tearfully.
I am sitting on the couch in the living room of 221B as I have decided to check up on Sherlock for a bit. Mrs Hudson is sitting in John's chair holding a paper tissue to her mouth. A large book is on the table beside the chair with string wrapped round it. Attached to the end of the string is John's 'me-substitute' balloon. A lot of the air has leaked out and the balloon now hangs down limply.
Sherlock is sitting in his chair, "I'm afraid it won't."
"We'll have to rally round, I expect. Do our bit." Mrs Hudson said, breaking down in tears again. "Look after little Rosie."
"Yeah..." I said, letting out a lot of tears. "I promised to do that for John. I won't break it."
Sherlock stands up.
"Just going to, um ..." Sherlock said, looking around as if uncertain what to do, then points to a small pile of letters next to his open laptop on the dining table. "... look through these things. There might be a case."
"A case?" Mrs Hudson asked, and Sherlock sits down at the table and looks at the laptop. "Oh. You're not up to it, are you?"
Sherlock's head drops a little, "Work is the best antidote to sorrow, Mrs Hudson, Jared."
"Yes, yes, I expect you're right." Mrs Hudson said, starting to get out of the chair. "I'll make some tea, shall I?"
"That'll be nice. Thank you." I said, letting out a sigh.
"Mrs Hudson? Jared?" Sherlock asked, looking between Mrs Hudson and I.
"Yes, Sherlock?" Mrs Hudson asked, staying seated.
"What's up?" I asked, while Sherlock blinks several times and half-glances at Mrs Hudson, then at me, but then continues to look at the laptop.
"If either of you ever think I'm becoming a bit ..." Sherlock said, pausing and swallowing. "... full of myself, cocky or ..." He pulls in a breath. "... over-confident ..."
"Yes?" Mrs Hudson asked.
"What is it?" I asked, clutching the strap of my sling bag.
"... would one of you just say the word 'Norbury' to me, would you?" Sherlock asked, turning on his seat to face Mrs Hudson and I.
"Norbury." Mrs Hudson said.
"Oh. Norbury. 'The Adventure of the Yellow Face'." I said, smiling. "Okay. I can do that, Sherlock."
"Thank you." Sherlock said, frowning. "Just that." He pauses for a moment, lowering his gaze, then looks at Mrs Hudson and I pleadingly. "I'd be very grateful."
Turning back towards where his hand is resting on the correspondence on the dining table, Sherlock lifts the top item and pulls out a padded envelope from underneath it.
"What's this?" Sherlock asked, looking at the padded envelope.
"Oh, I brought that up. It was mixed up with my things." Mrs Hudson said, as Sherlock opens the envelope and pulls out a DVD.
It is a plain white disc but written on it are the words
MISS ME?
Sherlock stares down at the DVD and Mrs Hudson gets out of her chair with a look of shock on her face.
"Oh God. Is that ..." Mrs Hudson said, at a loss for words.
"Must be." Sherlock said.
"Oh!" Mrs Hudson said, sitting down on the arm of Sherlock's armchair while he loads the disc.
"I knew it wouldn't end like this. I knew Moriarty made plans." Sherlock said, intensely.
For a moment the 'loading' circle spins and then the disc begins to play. But it's not James Moriarty who appears on the screen. It's Mary.
Mary smiles into the camera and rolls her eyes a little as she speaks, "Thought that would get your attention."
Sherlock sinks back in his chair. Mrs Hudson and I reach out and the two of us put our hands over his.
"Oh!" Mrs Hudson said, excitedly.
"So, this is in case ..." Mary said, smiling awkwardly at the camera. "... in case the day comes. If you are watching this, I'm ... probably dead. I hope I can have an ordinary life, but who knows? Nothing's certain; nothing's written. My old life – it was full of consequences." She smiles briefly. "The danger was the fun part, but you can't outrun that forever." Mary gestures towards the camera. "You need to remember that, so ... I'm giving you a case, Sherlock and Jared."
"A case? On what?" I asked, while Sherlock slowly leans forward.
"Might be the hardest case of your respective careers. With you as a consulting detective, Sherlock. And with you as a Huntsman, Jared. When I'm ... gone – if I'm gone – I need the both of. you to do something for me." Mary said, as Sherlock swallows.
"The next big case is going to be rough." I said, and Sherlock has already worked out what the case is. "I'll have to deal with the both of you."
WATSON HOME...
Sherlock knocked on the door and then stepped back out of the porch. The door opens and Molly and I come out, with me holding Rosie in my arms. Molly closes the door and she and I come out to the porch. Sherlock smiles down at his goddaughter.
"Hi." Molly said, softly.
"Hey." I said, sadly. "What is it?"
Sherlock nods to Rosie. Molly and I return the nod.
"I just ... wondered how things were going and ... and if there was anything I could do." Sherlock said, quietly.
Looking awkward, Molly reaches into the pocket of her trousers and then holds out an envelope, "It's, uh, it's from John."
"Right." Sherlock said, taking the envelope and looking down at it.
"Sherlock, you don't need to read the letter now." I said, pausing for a moment as Sherlock looked at me.
"We're sorry, Sherlock. He says ... Jo-John said if you were to come round asking after him, offering to help ..." Molly said, while I am holding Rosie in my arms.
"Yes?" Sherlock asked.
"He..." Molly said, reluctantly. "...said he'd r... that he'd rather have anyone but you." She spoke softly. "Anyone."
"Yeah. John would rather have Molly, Mrs Hudson, and I look after Rosie." I said, as Sherlock blinks and presses his lips together. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Sherlock."
Molly, with tears in her eyes, looks down at Rosie and then turns and goes back indoors with me, closing the door behind us. Sherlock stands there for a few seconds, then turns and walks away, tucking the envelope into his coat pocket.
"I'm giving you a case, Sherlock, Jared." Mary said, her voice in my head.
I closed my eyes to imagine Sherlock sitting in the back of a black cab, his head lowered. I know that he is looking at whatever was inside the envelope.
"When I'm gone – if I'm ..." Mary said, her voice in my head as she breathed out a shaky breath. "... gone – I need the both of you to do something for me."
On the DVD recording, the camera focuses on Mary's mouth.
"Save John Watson." Mary said, and the focus switches to her eyes. "Save him, Sherlock, Jared." The focus switches to her mouth again. "Save him."
I closed my eyes to imagine Sherlock walking along the south bank of the Thames near MI6 headquarters.
"When does the path we walk on lock around our feet? When does the road become a river with only one destination? Death waits for us all in Samarra. But can Samarra be avoided?" Sherlock asked, his voice in my head.
As Sherlock moves on, the background changes from the riverside scene to dark blue water, with a bright white light shining down into the depths.
Mary is on the DVD, looking intently into the camera, "Go to Hell, Sherlock and Jared."
The DVD shuts down.