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

Winsty has always wondered why Mycroft always carries a small black umbrella wherever he goes. Although the weather in London changes, "weather" has always been a hot topic of discussion among Londoners, but Mycroft Te usually works indoors, and he has a secretary to prepare everything for him. There is really no need to carry a small black umbrella everywhere.

Today this doubt has been answered.

That exquisitely crafted little black umbrella can not only be used to keep out the wind and rain, but simply covering the rain is a bit overkill for it. Its umbrella surface is made of special molecular material, which can block the attack of bullets.

Sherlock asked Winsty to open the umbrella, so that the umbrella faced the rear of the car. Even if the bullets that were coming could penetrate the rear body, they would not be able to penetrate the umbrella.

Winsty couldn't help sighing, "It's amazing."

"More than that, there are miniature spray bombs in the umbrella handle. If we are caught, we can also ignite the spray bombs and die with them."

Sherlock's eyes were looking forward, and he said the sentence "to die together" lightly, as if he was talking about the plot in a movie.

Oh, no, he doesn't watch movies very much, and this is not a movie. The two of them were actually walking on the road of escape, with bullets raining down behind them. Fortunately, Mycroft didn't want to make things big, so they didn't come out Helicopters, otherwise it can really be said to be a "network".

Wen Sidi thought for a while, and said, "No, you can actually go back. I was the one who held you hostage, and they're after me, so if we want to die together, it's me and them who are going to die together."

"Your thinking has become clear at this time. It's really rare. I can't run even if the fog bomb is ignited. Why don't you die together?"

Sherlock's gaze was straight ahead, he turned the steering wheel, made a sharp turn, and the car drove into a narrow alley.

"It's called a hostage accident, but I will definitely tell you before I light the spray bomb. I can wait until you reach a safe place before lighting the spray bomb."

"At that time, I'm afraid you have been shot into a sieve, and what if I don't run?" Sherlock shifted his gaze from the road ahead to her face.

"Look at the road." Winsty lowered his head, avoiding his sight.

They are running for their lives now. To be precise, she is the only one running for their lives. Sherlock took the initiative to be held hostage by her to help her escape together. frustrating words.

Sherlock looked back.

Wensty thought that this matter would turn the page, but she didn't expect that Sherlock was still waiting for her answer. He was too stubborn about this question: "What if I don't run?"

"Oh, can we not talk about the frustration of dying together, it will affect morale."

Sherlock already had the answer in his heart. There was a riddle hidden in this sentence, and he hoped that Winsty could solve it——

If I don't run, it's called martyrdom.

They are now on the run, even though he knows that even if they are hunted down, Mycroft will not do anything to them, just like when Wensty obstructed the rescue at Newman's Private Hospital, he asked to try to capture them alive. With a secret on her body, her life is guaranteed.

But Sherlock still hoped that Wensty could know that he was willing to die with her. He couldn't say such a straightforward sentence, so he hoped that Wensty could explain it by himself.

She is different from the goldfish, she can understand what he means.

"Being influenced by hypothetical problems is the most annoying thing."

Winsty knew that if she didn't answer the question, Sherlock wouldn't stop.

"If you don't run..."

Sherlock waited for Winsty's answer.

"Then I'll run, I'll stay away from you with the fog bombs in my arms."

That way he'll be fine.

After Wensty finished answering this question, Sherlock's face darkened visibly to the naked eye.

Sherlock: "With all due respect, you don't know how to use the fog grenade in the umbrella handle."

This question is really on point.

"Then tell me how to use it."

Although people have to look in an optimistic direction, they can also take precautions.

"No." Sherlock refused flatly.

Going out from this small road and reaching a broad road, Winsty felt that Sherlock must have a living map in his mind.

The following road became more and more familiar to Wensty. Sherlock drove into Baker Street after shedding the vehicle behind him for a certain distance. A dazzling red Maybach was parked at the gate of No. 221 where they lived.

Their car was parked next to the Maybach.

"Get out of the car." Sherlock said.

The car has been driving around London for so long, shuttling through the streets and alleys, and the gas is about to run out. Under such circumstances, ordinary desperate people would choose to grab a car at random on the side of the road, but Sherlock is obviously not an ordinary person.

Mrs. Hudson was sitting in the red Maybach. After she saw Sherlock and Winsty, she gave up her seat and reminded intimately: "There is water and food in the car, and there is a spare tire. You keep driving east. , will meet a motel, the owner is my good friend, I have already said hello."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock gave Mrs. Hudson a grateful hug, "The color of the car is really low-key."

Such a gorgeous red color will not be conspicuous only in a bunch of equally gorgeous colors.

"Okay, Sherlock, this is already my most low-key car."

They didn't have time to chat, Sherlock and Winsty got into Mrs. Hudson's car, and the pursuers also appeared at the intersection of Baker Street.

The car sped away.

Mrs. Hudson felt compelled to help the two young men, so she stood in the middle of the road, pretended to be panic-stricken, and began to cry.

The pursuing vehicle had to stop.

"Madam, please move out of the way."

Of course, Mrs. Hudson would not move away. She wiped the corners of her eyes with her cuff: "Who cares about me, poor old lady, my car was taken away!"

Mrs. Hudson once dreamed of becoming an actress when she was young, and she took acting classes for a while, and she burst into tears.

The pursuers had no choice but to stop and coax her for a while.

Mrs. Hudson bought Sherlock and Winsty some time, and they were heading in the direction of the motel Mrs. Hudson had mentioned.

"Didn't expect Mrs. Hudson to have such a cool car."

"She has more than one car. Don't underestimate a middle-aged woman with a house in central London. She is the widow of a drug dealer."

"Oh, so it is."

Wensti understood, so Mrs. Hudson must have had a lot of experience in escaping, and she had prepared a complete set of things for them.

Winsty: "Sir, are you hungry?"

He should be hungry, driving is a very energy-consuming and physical activity.

Sherlock glanced at her indifferently: "Stop calling me Mr. Holmes?"

The man had been bitter about Winsty calling him "Mr. Holmes."

It was good that Sherlock didn't mention it, as soon as he mentioned Wensty, he remembered that he called her "Miss Adams", and her temper also came up.

"I'm sorry, I forgot. Are you hungry, Mr. Holmes?"

When Sherlock heard the first half of the sentence, he thought that Winsty was going to apologize to him, and originally wanted to forgive her generously, but he was even more unhappy when he heard the second sentence.

"Not hungry."

Along the way, neither of them ate or spoke to each other until they arrived at the motel Mrs. Hudson mentioned.

Winsty put away Mycroft's umbrella, took the food prepared by Mrs. Hudson, and got out of the car with Sherlock.

The motel is a mixed place, there are many people with ulterior motives here, and women are rarely seen except for the hostesses of the hotel.

Wensty had no clothes to change, so she always wore the red windbreaker that she saw Mycroft that day. When Wensty appeared at the hotel door in red, she was like a magnet, attracting everyone. The eyes of the opposite sex, their eyes wandered maliciously on her body.

Winsty didn't have any perception, but Sherlock's eyes couldn't escape all of this. He sensed some obscene signals in the air.

"What are you doing?"

Sherlock wrapped his arms around Wensty's waist, and the sudden move made Wensty almost lose his footing.

Sherlock didn't answer, he was swearing his sovereignty like a young eagle, the gray-blue eyes were full of inviolable color.

Mrs. Hudson had already described the appearance of Sherlock and Wensty to the motel owner. The boss saw the two of them at the estimated time, and led Sherlock and Wensty directly without asking any further questions. The room prepared for them saves a lot of explaining.

The room he arranged for Sherlock and Winsty was at the innermost part of the entire hotel, which made people think it was at the end, but in fact it turned into a hidden space.

The room is not big, there is only a bathroom, a wardrobe, a bed and a small window. The afterglow of the setting sun casts in, dyeing the whole room into a bright pink, which looks quite charming.

The hotel owner took them to the room and left.

Sherlock walked around the house, checking whether there were surveillance cameras installed in the room.

Winsty opened the window a little, letting the evening breeze in, ushering in the freest moment of the day.

"Mr. Holmes."

As soon as she called this title, Sherlock's dissatisfied eyes followed.

He was like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.

"What's the matter, you are allowed to call me Miss Adams, but I can't call you Mr. Holmes?"

"I will not call you Miss Adams, and you must not call me Mr. Holmes."

"make a deal."

Sherlock held out his little finger: "Pull!"

"Hook?" Winsty was very surprised, he probably didn't like this way.

"Although I think the pull hook is useless and naive, but it seems to be particularly binding for you."

Sherlock's pinky hooked up with Winsty's pinky and stamped with her thumb.

Wensty smiled helplessly: "Are you hungry?"

Whether he's hungry or not, it's been a day and he needs to eat something.

Mrs. Hudson brought them many different kinds of food, even sugar.

"That's not candy."

Seeing that Winsty was unpacking a yellow candy box, Sherlock couldn't help reminding her.

"what is that?"

As she said that, she opened the candy box. There was another box inside the candy box, and a note fell out. On the note was Mrs. Hudson's handwriting that they were all familiar with:

Don't forget protective measures when you are on the run, wiping (gun) off fire.

If you are planning to have a child, treat the previous one as void.

The blue box reflecting the "ultra-thin" fell to the ground, and Winsty's face was redder than the setting sun.

作者有话要说：感谢在2020-04-3020:50:09~2020-05-0116:54:15期间为我投出霸王票或灌溉营养液的小天使哦~

Thanks to the little angels who irrigate the nutrient solution: 90 bottles of cute little waste; 20 bottles of sweet noodle sauce and alarm clock ringing;

Thank you very much for your support, I will continue to work hard!