Moriarty was the sort of organisation who didn’t need to offer a lot of money to get a job done. It could offer a thousand pounds for a job that would cost others ten times that and have a line of people looking to do it. If you got asked to do a job for Moriarty, you did it; no regard to the small amount of money you got paid. Especially if the job was a dangerous or deadly one.
So for Moriarty to offering half a million quid for this job it had to be a near impossible job. But that had never bothered Billy; he had always had more ambition than sense. It’s how he ended up here, leader of a bunch of idiots who had no real idea of what they were doing.
“Got ‘em Billy.” A voice spoke into his ear piece. Billy hissed at the use of his name, and he heard the flinch on the other end. “Boss, sorry, Boss. Found his escort, just where you said. Disposed of the bodies in a hangar.”
Corey is good at his job, if nothing else, Billy thought as he made his way towards the last location they had sighted their target. “How many?” he asked.
“Two. One man in a suit, security I think. And a woman with a blackberry- most likely his assistant.”
“Both dead?” Billy asked as he slipped into another hangar. He could hear indistinct voices arguing inside and he moved quietly towards them.
“Both…both neutralised.” Before Billy can ask what he meant, he drew close enough to the voices to make them out. He ducked behind a parked plane and noted the tall, dark haired man with an umbrella. He could not see the other man.
“I don’t care why you’re here Mycroft. Just leave.” Gotcha! Billy thought. Confirmation of their target’s position is what he had been waiting for. A quick press of a button and a mass text is sent- the signal for the next stage of their plan.
Billy kept half an ear on the conversation even as he ordered his five men into position.
“I do not understand why you are here. Martin doesn’t-“
“Don’t finish that sentence, Mycroft. Not if you know what’s good for you.” The man snapped.
There was a pause, as Mycroft waited for the man to calm down. “No offence meant. Now, I believe you are the only one with the abilities to aid me. I appear to be...unable to understand his mindset.”
“An understatement. Mycroft I’m-“ It is at this moment Billy pulled his gun and stepped into sight, halting the conversation. Mycroft blinks once, and then his face was blank. The other man, who Billy could see for the first time, had a look of complete surprise before he too blinks it away, but not as well as Mycroft.
He was familiar, in a way Billy could not place. “Hello, Mycroft Holmes.” He says, pointing the gun at Mycroft. Mycroft gave the gun a disdainful glance before he looked Billy up and down.
“Oh, how dull. Moriarty, I presume? I did realise I would have to deal with him in the end, but really?” Billy grimaced but tightened his hold on the gun. The other man flinched and dropped his hand to his pocket.
“Don’t move! I will shoot you. I only need him.”
The man blinked; his expression identical to that of Mycroft’s for a moment and it was then his identity clicked in Billy’s head. Even as Billy made the connection, the man spoke, confirming his thoughts. “But, that’s not a gun. Not a real gun anyway. I do know a gun when I see one.”
Billy smiled. The face behind Moriarty is unknown, but they all know his adversary. He is the safest man in London, on pain of death- it pays to know his face. “Sherlock Holmes I presume? Pleasure. I wonder how much you’re worth?” Sherlock looks at Billy like he has lost his mind for a second before his expression changed.
“Yes… I am Sherlock…” He ignored Mycroft’s glare, which confused Billy but he shook it off. His mind was racing, filled with ways to turn this to his advantage. Mycroft Holmes is worth half a million; surely Sherlock is worth twice that. And they did have two cars; Corey’s old man’s car and the van- some old thing they stole from a removalist with a funny name yesterday.
Billy’s smile widened. Mycroft narrowed his eyes, and then raising his umbrella he thumps the man coming up behind him over the head with it. Poor Fred, he’s never going to live that down, thinks Billy as Sherlock half turns in time to see the other man with the very real knife behind him. He only just ducks in time to avoid being stabbed. He looks up with wide eyes at Corey, who is holding the bloodstained knife just above him.
“No! Take them both; he’s worth twice as much as the target.” Corey hesitates for a moment, and Mycroft uses that second to slice at his legs with the sword that has appeared out of nowhere. The umbrella is a sword. A fucking umbrella sword. Billy curses as he waves in Brad and Todd to help. Corey drops to the ground, cursing.
“Run!” Mycroft yells at Sherlock. Bewildered, Sherlock stares at his brother while mouthing the word. “Run!” Mycroft screams again, shoving at his brother to get him moving while moving to stand between him and Billy’s other two men.
Billy frowns and drops the lighter in his hand, while drawing his own knife. He grabs Sherlock as he tries to get past, twisting one hand behind his back and placing his knife at the shorter man’s throat.
“Unless you wish for your younger brother to die, I advise you to put the sword down Mycroft Holmes.” Mycroft freezes, his sword at Brad’s heart. He meets Billy’s eyes and then Sherlock’s. To Billy’s surprise, Sherlock is shaking his head slightly, telling him not to do it. Billy tightens his grip on Sherlock’s throat and the shaking stops. A drop of blood runs down Billy’s hand.
Mycroft considers it for a moment, before dropping the sword and stepping back. Brad stays frozen for a second before Billy’s nod has him moving to secure Mycroft. Todd comes up behind with the chloroform soaked handkerchief and without a struggle Mycroft is knocked out. Sherlock’s eyes are wide with fear as Todd does the same to him.
“Call Jack. Get him to bring the van around. We’re out of here in three minutes.” Corey is still bleeding on the hanger floor. Billy thinks for a second about leaving him, but that would be much evidence. The blood is mostly under a plane, they won’t notice it until the plane, GERTI or something, is moved. “Grab Corey too.”
Between the four of them they manage to get the two men, a dopey Fred and bleeding Corey into the van and car.
No one notices the mobile, half hidden under GERTI, still valiantly trying to send a text.