Silent guardian

Sherlock opened his eyes, it was already the next morning.

He sat up and was stunned for a while, feeling a little unreal.

【Sherlock, I'mQueen, nice tomeet you.】

He lifted the quilt and got out of bed, the numbness had completely receded, and quickly dressed, he returned to the calm and calm Sherlock.

"Oh, you're awake." John sat on the sofa he used to sit on, holding a newspaper in his hand, saw Sherlock go up and go up, "How do you feel?"

"It's okay." Sherlock glanced at the room, a strange flash of light flashed in his eyes, "It's just an anesthetic. What happened last night?"

"It's nothing, you are lying on the ground alone, and there is no ghost around." Watson was very puzzled, "Why did you faint? Who made you faint? The murderer?"

"Queen."

"Queen which Queen?"

"The stars Queen"

Sherlock felt that he had missed something, and his eyes kept scanning around, as if looking for something.

"Missile program? That hacker?" Watson finally remembered, deduced that name, Mora also had credit.

"Did I miss something?" Sherlock asked Watson suspiciously, he always felt that something was wrong.

Watson circled around Sherlock, thought hard for a while, and was about to say something, but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

The person who knocked on the door was the delivery man of the courier company, and handed over an ordinary cardboard box. The sender was blank on it, and only wrote on the recipient column with the Parker Flattop Dover series iridium pen: Sherlock . Sherlock Holmes.

"The writing is beautiful." Sherlock praised sincerely.

"What's in here?" Watson asked curiously.

"Don't worry, it will never be a bomb."

Of course it wasn't a bomb in the box, it was just a scarf, Sherlock's scarf, with the cold fragrance of dew Jane on it.

"Your scarf? That's what I was going to talk about just now." Watson said, "I left in such a hurry yesterday that I didn't notice it, but what did she do with your scarf?"

Sherlock picked up the scarf in silence, and put it around his neck without saying a word.

Mora received roses again, black roses, which seemed to condense all the ink colors, quietly blooming in the glass bottle in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room of her residence.

There is no doubt that James has come, as quietly as the last time.

Mora's hair tied to the door frame and doorknob was torn off, but the arrows on the bowstring in the root carving lying in ambush on the opposite side of the bedroom door were still there. It seemed that the other party came in through the main door and never approached her bedroom.

She stared at the flower quietly, and it took her a long time to pick it up, but her fingertips were punctured, and she felt a sharp pain.

Mora didn't dare to make a hasty decision, she put the flowers back in silence, turned and went back to the bedroom.

She's now in a passive position because she can't find James, despite all her attempts at tracking.

James is too cunning. Whether it is a mobile phone, address, identity, or even contact information, she will never reuse it. Sometimes when she walks on the street, she feels that everyone who passes her by may be James pretending. .

It was a poisonous snake, good at concealment, she couldn't catch him, she could only wait for him to show up, but now, she felt that the time was coming soon.

When Watson pushed open the door of the cafe, Maura, who was sitting by the window, was staring out the window in a daze.

There are two servings of coffee on the table, exuding a strong aroma.

Mora turned her head and glanced at Watson, but she didn't smile at him as usual, and her eyes lost their usual brilliance.

Watson sat across from her, frowning in confusion.

"Vermeer oil painting puzzle solved?"

"Yes, a superb imitation, flawless, everything is so exquisitely designed, but it is still lost to time. Why did the Van Buren supernova that bloomed in the [-]th century appear in the paintings of the [-]th century." Watson picked up the coffee and took a sip, then said, "Yesterday we went to track Gemu, and Sherlock was stunned..."

"Is he all right?"

"It's nothing, it's just an anesthetic." Watson paused, "Why don't you ask him yourself?"

"There is no chance." Mo La's eyes dimmed all of a sudden, her voice became low unconsciously, "John, I'm dying."

Watson was taken aback for a moment, and couldn't help suspecting that something was wrong with his ears.

"What did you say? What's wrong with you?"

"He gave me a black rose, which represents death. He must have known that I was secretly meddling in your affairs."

Mora took a sip of her coffee, frowning at the rich bitterness.

"James?" Watson's eyes widened. "He's threatening you again? He's really lingering! Damn it, what the hell is Lestrade doing? He hasn't caught anyone until now!" The last time James invaded Baker Street, he was furious, and now seeing Mora's lifeless eyes, he was even more annoyed at his own weakness, "Don't be afraid, we'll go find Sherlock right away, he will definitely protect you."

"No." Mora rejected Watson's proposal, "I'm waiting for him, this is a good opportunity."

"What do you mean?" Watson's face darkened, "Are you going to use yourself as bait to lure him out?"

"Is there anything wrong?" Mo La laughed, "This is the only thing I can do for him."

"No, we have to discuss this matter with Sherlock." Watson took Mora's arm and walked out. As soon as Mora got up, a beam of afterimages similar to the reflection of a car rearview mirror flashed her sight.

Danger!

Mora heard the sound of bullets piercing through the air, and subconsciously pushed Watson away. She didn't want Watson to be accidentally injured, but this time she made a mistake in her judgment. The murderer's target was not her, but Watson, and Watson's arm. Being pushed by her like this, instead sent his chest to the muzzle of the gun.

Hearing a "pop!", Watson fell backwards, and the blood spurted from his right chest splashed all over Mora's face.

The gunfire continued, and the crackling bullets scurried like flies. People hugged their heads and squeezed towards the door. The originally quiet space was instantly drowned out by screams and collisions.

After about a century, the scene finally calmed down. Mora stood up, and Watson, who was protected by her, had lost consciousness. The blood on his chest had soaked through his clothes and spread into a pool of blood.

Mora was stunned, she looked at everything in front of her in disbelief, a kind of intense fear crushed her calmness.

"John!" A man yelled and rushed over, separated Mora's outstretched hands, pulled off the scarf and covered Watson's wound, trying to stop the rushing blood.

"Sherlock,,,,," Mora called the name blankly, feeling the blood on her face and her heart cool down.

"Call the ambulance!" Sherlock yelled loudly without raising his head, and the movements of his hands never stopped.

Mora hadn't had time to digest everything in front of her. She didn't know why Watson was shot suddenly, and she didn't know why Sherlock appeared here so coincidentally. trembling.

【Didyousee? 】

Mora's fingers froze the keys, and quickly scanned the messy coffee shop. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows pierced by bullets, she saw a man in a suit standing across the road, smiling at her.

The man said, Didyousee?

She turned her head to look at Sherlock, countless red dots were projected onto Sherlock's curly hair from different angles, like the red light at the rear of a car, a strong warning.Even if she has great ability, she can't block all the bullets in an instant, the only thing she can do is to do nothing.

If you do nothing, John Watson may die, and if John Watson is dead, Sherlock will never forgive her.

Now she is in a precipice and an abyss behind, in a dilemma.

"Call the phone!" Sherlock urged sharply, with his hands pressed against Watson's chest, blood had already overflowed from his ten fingers, his usual eyes had lost their usual calmness, and his brows were furrowed, wishing to suffer.

"John? John? Wake up, you have to stay awake now, you can't sleep, do you hear me?"

【Didyousee? 】

【How much he cares about John Watson. 】

[If you take Watson under the knife, how do you think he will react? 】

[If you choose to stand on his side, then you will bear the price of your choice. 】

【Look, I caught your lifeline,,,,,, this time it's your turn. 】

"Mola!" Sherlock raised his head, his eyes became angry, mixed with doubt and blame.

"Sorry, Sherlock."

Mora closed her eyes and lowered her arms weakly, unable to bear to look at Sherlock's reproachful eyes, let alone Watson's gradually cooling body.

James, you win.

You did catch my lifeblood.