[Comprehensive British and American] Those years when I opened a dessert shop on Baker Street

Inspector Lestrade came up to him and reported the current situation: "The front and back doors of the hospital have been completely blocked, and all patients are locked in the hospital. Now a request for peaceful negotiation has been issued."

Mycroft frowned: "Can't attack by force?"

Lestrade shook his head solemnly. Not long ago, he received a video on his mobile phone, and the situation was more serious than he thought.

He showed the video to Mycroft and Sherlock.

What blocked the door was not wooden cannons (bullets), but living people. A group of sick-faced patients in hospital gowns were glued to the door. As long as there was a strong attack from outside, they would inevitably be hurt.

In addition, the patients were concentrated in different rooms, and the doctors who were originally skilled and kind-hearted also took off their masks and turned into executioners, holding wooden warehouses to guard them.

The patients in the hospital have become hostages. They are already suffering from diseases, and after being frightened, their bodies can't bear it even more.

Mycroft's little black umbrella was lit on the ground, and his complexion looked the same as usual, but Sherlock knew that Mycroft's anger was surging in his heart. He was always good at disguising, and the world is too easy to believe the surface and ignore Details, the bulging veins on Mycroft's hands had already exposed him.

What Sherlock wouldn't admit was that he and Mycroft were brothers, and at certain moments they would reveal an astonishing rapport, with both of his hands in his pockets, clenched into fists.

There were three knocks on the front door of the hospital, a signal of agreement to negotiate peacefully.

The negotiator has been on standby for a long time. He received the order, gave the officers a confident look, and was about to go to the hospital.

Sherlock stopped in front of him, blocking his way.

"I'll go," Sherlock said.

"You can't go." Mycroft held up his umbrella, the handle resting against Sherlock's suit.

"I don't believe that a person who was hungover last night can negotiate consciously today."

The negotiator couldn't help but asked about the smell on his body, there was no smell of alcohol, how did he find out?

"But that was also what happened last night. One morning is enough for him to wake up."

Mycroft looked at Sherlock with his brother's authority and unquestionable, he would never allow Sherlock to enter the hospital to negotiate.

Sherlock glanced at the umbrella in front of him, and met Mycroft's gaze. In Mycroft's eyes, what he was about to do was as immature as when he was a child.

A blue storm rose in Sherlock's eyes.

Without putting down his umbrella, Mycroft pointed out: "And you are more irrational than a hangover negotiator now, do you think you can calm down and negotiate?"

In Sherlock's eyes, the storm looked like it was about to sweep the earth. His expression was solemn, his Adam's apple surged up and down, and he looked at Mycroft and said, "There is...Winsty inside."

She wasn't in the video that Lestrade played just now, and he was going to find her.

"I know," said Mycroft, "that there are other British people in it, too."

Mycroft put down his umbrella, walked over and patted Sherlock on the shoulder. The nervousness was not only in Sherlock, but also in him. The people in the hospital were his responsibility.

Politicians once commented on Mycroft: There is nothing in his eyes, only power.

Mycroft never took this miscalculation to heart.

Sherlock could feel the sincerity in Mycroft's eyes, words, and the strength of his shoulder pat, and finally gave in, agreeing to let the negotiators negotiate first.

The negotiator wanted to tell the two Mr. Holmes not to worry, he was one of the best in the whole field, but was stopped by Lestrade.

Lestrade: "Stop talking nonsense, go in quickly."

The negotiator straightened his collar and walked towards the hospital.

Negotiations will take some time, but waiting in vain has never been the Sherlock Holmes style.

The gazes of Sherlock and Mycroft were all aimed at the rooftop, and there was no one there. After looking at each other, Mycroft began to dispatch the special forces.

Negotiators go in full of ambition, but come out in a panic.

When he came out, his suit jacket was bulging, his tie was stuffed into his mouth, his eyes were full of tears, his hands were tied, his back was behind him, and he moved to the door step by step.

"What's wrong with you?" Lestrade walked to his side and took off the tie he was talking about.

He said vaguely: "They strapped a time bomb (bomb) to me."

He opened his suit jacket, and sure enough, there was a time bomb (bomb) wrapped around his waist. The countdown had already started, and there were just 10 minutes left.

"What's going on inside?" Sherlock looked at the timer and started preparing to dismantle the bomb (bomb).

According to his understanding, in order to prevent errors, this kind of device usually has a small button.

The bomb disposal expert was very nervous. He said something, but Sherlock didn't hear what he said.

Oh, that's the quality of an expert negotiator.

"Speak clearly!" Sherlock frightened, he was impatient to listen to the negotiator crying, he just wanted to know what was going on inside.

After being yelled at by him like this, the negotiator really calmed down a little.

"They don't want to negotiate peacefully at all."

The negotiator did not see Dr. Newman at all. As soon as he entered, he was restrained and forced to wear a timer.

Sherlock found the small button on the timer, pressed it, and the countdown stopped.

After the negotiator heard a beep, saw the countdown stop, and confirmed that his life was no longer in danger, all rational thinking returned.

"Which of you is Sherlock Holmes?" the negotiator asked, looking at the people in front of him.

"I am." Sherlock replied.

"The people in the hospital said that there will be a gift for you later."

Gift?

This word caught Sherlock's mind, all his blood rushed to his brain, and his mania devoured his reason at an extremely fast speed.

Of course he knew what "gift" meant.

Lestrade was a little worried about Sherlock. Even when he knew that Winsty had been kidnapped, he felt worried, let alone Sherlock. He saw Sherlock striding towards the hospital. , Mycroft did not stop him with the little black umbrella again.

When Sherlock's clothes swayed, Lestrade seemed to see a moth flapping its wings. There was a raging fire in front of it, but it flew forward without any hesitation.

Words could no longer persuade Sherlock, Mycroft realized this and stopped wasting useless words, but he would never allow Sherlock to make the stupid and useless mistake of flying moths to a flame .

He winked at the driver next to him, and the driver took the lead, stepped forward, and injected a tube of tranquilizer into Sherlock's neck as he approached the front door.

Everyone could hear Sherlock swearing, and he fell straight down like a sculpture.

Lestrade looked at Mycroft in surprise, without his permission, the driver would never dare to do this to Sherlock.

Mycroft said flatly, "I don't want Sherlock to regret his decision."

But will Sherlock regret it?He couldn't tell either.

But he knows that the special forces will be airborne on the rooftop in 5 minutes, and the situation may usher in a turning point.

Outsiders don't know that Mycroft ordered the driver to inject Sherlock with a sedative just now, which was one of the most difficult decisions in his life.

To protect Sherlock's health, he had to risk another man's life.

Mycroft closed his eyes, thinking of the girl who was by Sherlock's side, who specially wore a beautiful red dress today to see him as an older brother.

He hasn't figured out her connection with the "Gate of Liberty" yet. There is a high probability that this kidnapping was a trap designed to lure him into the circle.

Sherlock, his stupid younger brother, obviously forgot this point, look at how he lost control just now, after this incident is over, he really deserves to be laughed at.

Sherlock, where have all your calmness, sanity, and composure gone?

I hope this matter can "pass" as he wished. If something unexpected happens... Mycroft's mind flashed the figure of "Red Beard", it doesn't matter, "Winsty" was just raised by Sherlock. A cat, born on Wednesday, he will put down quickly.

Mycroft clenched the handle of the umbrella. He didn't say a word, and he had already made all the expected judgments in his mind.

The male lion stares straight ahead with piercing eyes, majestic and sharp.

This kind of Mycroft makes people dare not approach him.

Five minutes later, several helicopters landed on the roof of Newman's Private Hospital. Mycroft waved his hand, and a column of well-trained special forces sneaked into the hospital from the roof.

This is a troop with rich combat experience. Many soldiers have returned from the battlefield and have successfully completed many rescue missions.

The police surrounding the entrance of Newman's Private Hospital held their breaths, and their spirits were also highly tense. No one spoke, and the surrounding traffic was blocked. At this time, it was extremely quiet, like a tornado whistling on the bottom of the sea, but the sea was extremely calm.

The news channel on TV was broadcasting this vicious case, and when Mrs. Hudson saw Mycroft, she still felt a little unreal.

For some reason, this middle-aged woman always felt that he looked extraordinarily lonely.

The picture on the TV remained the same. Mrs. Hudson thought the TV was broken, and changed the channel, only to realize that it was not the TV that was broken, but that everyone on the scene was silent.

The quieter it is at this time, the smoother the progress of the special forces.

Lestrade thought optimistically that according to this progress, the good news of victory would not be too long. No matter how powerful the doctors holding the wooden warehouse in the hospital were, they would not be able to match an elite army.

What broke the tranquility of the scene was the ringtone of his mobile phone.

Mrs. Hudson finally saw another movement on the TV screen. The detective who had been looking for Sherlock took out his mobile phone, looked at it, and his face instantly turned livid.

Lestrade just received a new video email with the title: The gift has arrived, Merry Christmas.