[Shen Xia] Britannia Rose

whitehall.

The date for the implementation of the Bond Air program is getting closer and closer, and the government agencies representing the highest authority of the British government are carrying out their daily operations in an orderly manner, but in a low-key office with no signs, the incandescent lights are always on all night.

A high-ranking man is like a sculpture. His back is straight, and his slender fingers are flying over the computer keyboard. This kind of overtime work is not abnormal. Excessive use of his brain makes him concentrate his thinking until he confirms the text again. After hearing the news from Chui Xin, he breathed a sigh of relief and moved his stiff fingers.

It was his duty to still be busy with work on New Year's Eve. McCoff turned on the phone and looked at the text message inbox. Except for a text message sent by Isabella around ten o'clock yesterday, there was no new message.

He raised his hand and touched the coffee cup by the table. The strong black coffee had a lot of sugar added to barely cover the bitter taste. This was the third cup Anthea had brewed for him.

McCoff took a sip of the coffee that was still warm. At this moment, the short rest caused fatigue and fatigue to creep up on his eyes. He pinched the center of his brows, where there was a line left by a habitual frown.

"Knock Knock-"

The man's deep voice sounded: "Please come in."

Anthea walked in with a bunch of documents in her arms, and she said respectfully, "Boss, here are the materials you asked for."

"Well," Mycroft responded casually. He took the document and put it aside, and asked casually, "How is Sherlock? Has he contacted Irene Adler?"

"Ms. Adler went to 221B this morning."

Mycroft pondered for a moment. He has always had a high level of confidence in his rigorous plans, but this morning he didn't know what happened. He couldn't control his restless inner emotions. The dark cloud instantly filled his heart with a misty miasma.

"Sir..."

"According to the highest level of monitoring," McCoff paused, "for Sherlock and Irene Adler."

Anthea nodded, and she backed out quietly.

Mycroft poured himself a glass of whiskey, rationally told him that drinking coffee and alcohol on an empty stomach is a very unhealthy behavior, and it is impossible to say what negative effects drugs and alcohol will have, but at this moment he urgently needs some foreign objects to force Suppress his restless nerves.

He closed his eyes and took a 10-minute nap.

Until, the mobile phone at hand vibrated a few times without warning.

Mycroft opened his eyes suddenly, his eyes were clear, he looked down at the text message, his face suddenly turned gray.

"The Jets send their regards to you dear Mr. Holmes"

Not signed.

But Mycroft knew who it was from.

Moriarty.

He took a deep breath and covered his face with his hands, he didn't know whether it was a sense of depression or anger rushing into his heart.

The plans formulated by the British government over the years and the painstaking efforts of countless people spent many days and nights were easily wasted because of a text message.

All efforts have become a joke.

Mycroft began to suspect that maybe Isabella's reminder was correct, and he shouldn't have given this matter to Sherlock from the beginning.

From dawn to dusk, the sky outside the window at the end of the long table in the luxurious office changed from clear white to dreamy purple, and the sunset was colorful and charming, but he didn't care to watch it.

Mycroft crossed his hands on his lips, and he didn't close his eyes all day and all night. His sharp eyes were already bloodshot. At this moment, his brain, which is comparable to a supercomputer, was running at a high speed, and he never gave himself time to feel sorry for himself. .

What he has to do is how to avoid risks from the current unfavorable situation, maximize his own advantages, and recover losses as soon as possible.

"Knock, knock—" There was a knock on the door.

McCoff didn't want to be disturbed at this time, so he simply kept silent.

If it was Anthea, she would leave voluntarily after knocking three times without answering, and told others not to disturb her.

"Knock, knock, knock—" the person who knocked on the door persisted.

It seemed that he had no patience. The frequency of knocking on the door was getting faster and faster. In the end, that person simply gave up knocking on the door and pushed the door open.

It's Isabella.

She was the only person who dared to break into his office without permission.

Isabella looked worriedly at Mycroft, who was nailed to the end of the long table like a dead wood against the light. He stroked his cheeks, eyes and hair with his hands. The terrifying low pressure on the verge of explosion no one wants to be in this state. Dialogue with the British Government itself.

"I called you, but no one answered your phone," she walked over slowly, "Anthea said you are here..."

"Sorry," Mycroft's voice was very soft, "I may not have heard..."

Isabella's eyes fell on the most conspicuous mobile phone on the long table, and she pursed her lips, not exposing this obvious lie.

"I'm worried about you, Myc," she said softly.

"I know," Mycroft finally moved his fingers. He looked at Isabella and sighed, "You can't imagine how much trouble Sherlock has made for me."

"I can imagine, after all, it's the first time I've seen you in such a state," Isabella opened the chair and sat on his right side, reached out and tentatively touched Mycroft's fingertips, her hands were cold, " What happened?"

"...Since the secret has been leaked," Mycroft let her hold his hand tightly, as if this would warm his hypothermic body temperature, "well, do you know about the Coventry incident?"

"Coventry?" Isabella was taken aback, "The one from World War II?"

"Yes, during World War II, the Allied forces had already deciphered the German code, so they knew that Coventry would be bombed by the German army, but for some reason, they didn't want the German army to know that the code was deciphered, so," Mycroft closed Close your eyes, "They let it bomb."

"So...the Bond Aviation plan is..." Isabella suddenly connected all the clues together, all pointing to the most likely guess, and her voice couldn't help but tremble.

"The United Kingdom and the United States have cracked the code of terrorists. They know that there is a bomb on a certain flight, but they are tacit to each other. They cannot reveal their intelligence sources, and they cannot gamble with human lives like they did during World War II... Mycroft said indifferently, "What will I do then?"

"Dead man's flight." As soon as the word came out, Isabella fell silent.

"Yes, Sherlock has deciphered this matter to Adler, and Adler told Moriarty, everything is in vain," Mycroft returned to hold her hand, as if recalling When it came to the British government that was planning a strategy, his voice was so cold that it could freeze, "I need to let Sherlock Holmes know what he has done. His brain is no longer clear with emotion."

"Myc..."

Mycroft dialed a number, "Anthea, send a ticket to Sherlock Holmes. You know which flight number it is."

It was cold outside, and the night was pitch black, thicker than the night on the winter solstice, without even a single star, let alone moonlight.The moon also hid behind the clouds early, and there was no light source in the sky that was hazy from the horizon.

Mycroft was wearing a pure black woolen coat and black leather gloves. He was leaning firmly on a small black umbrella.

"Going to the airport?" Isabella was wrapped in a warm Burberry brown plaid scarf, and followed Mycroft.

"It will be very cold," he said with his head down, "or you can go home and wait for me."

"No," Isabella shook her head, "I don't want to, because right now... I really want to punch Sherlock's straw-stuffed head."

"GOOD." Mycroft's tone couldn't tell whether it was praise or ridicule.

……

Dead Man's Flight.

Like a dead atmosphere, with a faint smell of formalin, Isabella followed behind Mycroft, holding her nose. Opposite them was Sherlock who had caused a catastrophe.

"Coventry again," Mycroft began in the dark. "What do you think of my solution?"

Sherlock said in a low voice: "The plane exploded in mid-air. The terrorists achieved their goal. There were hundreds of casualties, but no one died."

"It's very clean, what do you think?" Mycroft said coldly, the dim light from the street lamp passing through the window of the plane hit the side of his face faintly, "Actually, you have come into contact with the truth of the matter a long time ago. , or do you think it's too boring to ignore the rules?"

Sherlock narrowed his eyes.

"We had a similar cooperation with the Germans before, and one of the passengers who missed the plane was the deceased in your case," Mycroft's expression was extremely sarcasm, "... Anyway, it's too late."

"How do planes fly? Of course, unmanned, old trick." Sherlock said.

"It won't take off, never will, the whole plan is cancelled, the terrorist organization has learned that we know about the bomb, and now they can't be fooled, we have lost everything..." Speaking of which, Mai Kauf couldn't hide his anger, Isabella tugged at his sleeve, and put his arm comfortingly, he calmed down, "A short paragraph in an email, a long-term plan, is over. "

"Your subordinates of the Ministry of Defense—" Sherlock didn't seem to understand, and was still talking about others.

"That'sallittakes." Mycroft pointedly, "a lonely and naive man who always wants to show off, and a woman who is smart enough to make him think he is special."

"Your Ministry of Defense should be more careful in selecting people."

"Sherlock!" Isabella had been suppressing her anger and asked Mycroft to teach her younger brother a lesson, but at this moment she really couldn't take it anymore, she whispered angrily.

"I'm not talking about that person from the Ministry of Defense," Mycroft also raised his voice angrily, "Sherlock, I'm talking about you!"

"When you first confronted Irene, John asked me," Isabella looked at Sherlock with strange eyes, "he asked me if you fell in love with that woman...I said no. But now I feel like maybe I was wrong."

"Women in jail... In the end, are your observation skills still so keen?" Mycroft coldly analyzed Sherlock with his penetrating eyes. "This is what Moriarty handed over to Isabella, saying that it contains clues about Princess Diana."

"...Is that the recorder?" Isabella asked suspiciously.

"It has been destroyed by me, but I can tell you that there is no valuable information in it except for the name of a person and the so-called identity that was inadvertently revealed," Mycroft smiled ironically, "He called Cedrio, who claims to be MI5."

Sherlock waited for him to continue.

"Isabella knew that this might be a trap. At the moment when I explicitly forbid her to go to the rose party, she could only ask you for help if the information is true or not, but she didn't go to you. Because she was soberly aware There is fraud in it."

"Sedrio?" Sherlock repeated.

"From the very beginning, Moriarty laid out the game. Irene Adler was also one of the pawns, but not the original one. The first pawn should be Isabella," Mycroft sideways Turning to look at her, "But he was disappointed, Isabella handed me the recorder. You should be wondering what trap Moriarty left in the recorder, right?"

"The identity of this man," Sherlock whispered, "he wants me to find out."

"Yes, you will find out that this person named Cedrio has the same name as a dead former MI5 agent, but it is not him. The most surprising thing is that this Cedrio appeared in On a strange flight."

"Cedrio is a member of the Dead Man's Flight?!" Isabella exclaimed.

"Yes, that's what Moriarty intended, trying to draw your attention to this plane." Mycroft stared at Sherlock with a half-smile.

"...It turns out that's the case, so seeing that I didn't take the bait, he activated Irene Adler?"

"The promise of love, the pain of loss, the joy of redemption..." Mycroft narrates lightly, "and then give him a puzzle to see him play to his fullest."

"Stop talking nonsense," Sherlock retorted.

"Nonsense?" Mycroft's sneer climbed to the corner of his lips, "How long did it take you to help her decipher that email? One minute? Or do you just want to show it?"

"I can't see five seconds."

The woman in black who suddenly appeared at the door of the aircraft cabin said provocatively.Her eyes turned to Mycroft's skirt, and then fell on Isabella's face in the dark.

"Good evening, Your Royal Highness," Irene raised her eyebrows, "Except for Mr. Holmes, your family is so cute."

Isabella looked at her indifferently until Mycroft turned sideways to block Irene's naked gaze lingering on her.

"I put you on her way," Mycroft said slowly and lowly. "I'm sorry, I didn't think so."

"Mr. Holmes, it seems we need to talk." Irene said as she walked over.

"I also feel that there are still many things I don't know very well." Sherlock said.

"It's not you, little Afu, it's none of your business." Irene passed Sherlock directly and came straight to McCoff, smiling confidently, "There are many, many, many of them stored in this phone. Secrets, photos, and scandals that can blow you away, you can't imagine how much damage I can do, and you don't know how to stop me, unless you want to tell your boss that your biggest security hole is your brother."

Hearing that, Isabella smirked, and her sneering gaze touched Sherlock. She tilted her head. When several people on the plane agreed to go to 221B for the next negotiation, Isabella broke away from McCoff's hand. , stepping back and waiting for Sherlock to come to her.

"Don't you understand yet? Because of your sentimentality, you gave Thewoman and even Moriarty - a handle that could directly threaten McCoff... It is indeed as she said, it is no longer your business," She said quickly in a low voice, "You should have been your brother's first line of defense, but now you have become his biggest loophole."

"..." Sherlock pursed his lips, but no words of excuse came out of that mouth.

It was late at night, and although Mycroft still looked intimidating like a towering iceberg on the bright side, Isabella could see the fatigue of the other party from his bloodshot eyes.

221B.

Irene and Mycroft are sitting face to face, while Sherlock is sitting on the sofa at one side. This posture implies that the people sitting at the evenly matched negotiating table are no longer Sherlock and Irene. Sherlock's negligence gave The other party can take advantage of this opportunity. Now, Irene really has a bargaining chip with the British government.

"We can get someone to hack your phone," Mycroft said.

"I tried it a long time ago," Irene smiled. "I gave Sherlock Holmes six months. Dear Sherlock, tell him what you found when you scanned my phone?"

"There are four parts under the phone case. I guess they are acid-containing substances or micro-bombs. If someone tries to open the phone case, the hard drive will be destroyed." Sherlock said flatly.

"It's dynamite, more in line with my personality." Irene looked at McCoff.

"Some data is recoverable." Mycroft rested his forehead with one hand, and it could be seen that he was devastated by the scandals in the hands of Irene Adler.

"You can try."

"Unlocking requires a password. I regret to tell you that we can force the password out."

"Sherlock?" Erin asked.

"There are two sets of passwords, one can be unlocked, the other will burn the drive, even if you threaten her, I don't know which one she gave, and there is only one chance." Sherlock said.

"Ah, that would be great," Isabella said thoughtfully, holding a glass of water by Mycroft's hand, "Stop drinking coffee."

"Thank you." Mycroft forced a helpless smile from his lips.

"I want coffee, two pieces of candy." Sherlock ordered Isabella without any shame.

"Shut up, there's nothing," Isabella scolded, "If I can resist punching you a few times, it's already very kind."

Irene also enjoys the same treatment as Sherlock, but she doesn't mind at all, after all, she has already won, "He is really amazing, I really should fuck him well, it's worth a try."

"..." Isabella rolled her eyes invisibly.

"Then we'll destroy it, and no one can get the information inside." Mycroft picked up the phone and signaled.

"Okay, good idea, but the information you want to destroy is related to the life and death of the British people." Irene reminded him.

"is it?"

"I'm telling you for your own good, I don't want to play games anymore," Irene said, taking out an envelope from her handbag, "This is my request, and I must be protected with absolute security."

He took the envelope, opened it and took a look.

"If you want me to say that it doesn't cost the country much," Irene looked at McCoff's raised eyebrows and chased after him, "...that's fake, you may need time to think about it."

"Thank you, that's right..." Mycroft was still shocked by Irene's sky-high request.

"Could it be the money to support a royal family?" Isabella complained.

It does seem like an outrageous price to make Mycroft look so good.

"At least five royal families." He took a deep look at Isabella.

"It's a pity," Erin said curtly to Mycroft, "you can get to work on it."

Mycroft sighed, and leaned on the back of the chair slumped.

"You are very thoughtful," he put away the envelope, "It would be great if our people could be half as capable as you."

"It's not on my own, someone helps me," Irene said to Sherlock suddenly, "Kim Moriarty sends my greetings."

"Yeah, he never stops. Can't wait for me to spot him, then I'll satisfy him," Mycroft said.

"Oh, by the way, he still has something to say to my dear little princess," Irene looked at the woman standing behind Mycroft, "don't look at me with that expression...it will remind me of the time when I For those women who have lived, be happy, your IceCubesweeheart will not take the blame and resign just because of this little request from me."

Ignoring Irene's flirtatious tone, Isabella asked coldly, "What did Moriarty say?"

"About the recorder, he said that you deserve to be the student he once taught." Irene said.

"Come on, he didn't teach me that," Isabella sneered. "What else did he teach besides differential and integral formulas?"

Irene smiled triumphantly, "Others, he may be happy to answer you face to face. Also, I have always had the information in my hands, but I have never known what to do. Thanks to this criminal consultant, who gave me a lot of advice. Teach me how to deal with you, know what he calls you?"

McCoff looked indifferently at Irene who was sitting sideways on the coffee table in front of him with one leg bent and enchanting.

"The Iceman and the virgin," Erin looked at Sherlock, "he doesn't want anything in return, I think he just likes to make trouble, and that's the kind of man I want."

"So the dominatrix queen who has fulfilled you and brought the whole country to its knees," Mycroft stood up, politely moving away from the woman who was so close in front of him, "well done."

"NO." Sherlock said suddenly.

"What?" Erin asked him back.

"I said no, I almost succeeded, but it was useless, you are too fascinated," Sherlock stood up, and said rationally, "But you have played the game, you are too addicted, you can enjoy the excitement of hunting, eager to use this Games as a pastime, I totally agree, oh Isabella, you can put aside the matter of you saying you are going to hit me on the head."

"?"

Isabella watched Sherlock's performance quietly.

"Sentimentality is the flaw of a loser," Sherlock said.

"Sentimental? What are you talking about?" Irene subconsciously covered up.

"You." He pointed out mercilessly.

Isabella on the side raised the corners of her lips, and she seemed to be able to see that Irene's calm heart was not calm under her pretended calm expression.

"Oh my God, look at this poor little boy, you don't really think I'm interested in you, do you? Why? Because you're the great Sherlock Holmes, a great detective wearing a funny hat?" Irene's reaction was outrageous. Contrary to Isabella's expectations.

At this moment, Mycroft put down the envelope in his hand, and resumed his usual calm and steady posture.

"No," Sherlock stepped forward, squeezed her wrist, and said close to her ear, "because I felt your pulse."

"The pulse quickens, the pupils dilate, and I guess John finds me incomprehensible, but the spark between the two of them is very simple and deadly," said Sherlock, who still had time to look at Mycroft and Isabella, " The first time we met you said that the disguise is a self-portrait, that’s right, the password to the safe is your measurements, but this one is much more personal.”

Sherlock opened her phone's lock screen.

"IAM____LOCKED"

"This is your heart, and you shouldn't do what you want," Sherlock pressed the keyboard, and Irene, who was opposite him, had already understood that the other party had seen through her disguise. Her eyes were trembling, tears were about to flow out, "If You just choose a set of numbers as your password, and you can leave here today. But you just can’t help it, can’t you?”

Sherlock smiled slightly, "I always thought love was a dangerous disadvantage, thank you for finally proving it again."

"Everything I said was false, I was just playing a game..." Irene begged him.

"I know, and you lost."

Saying that, Sherlock turned the phone lock screen to face her.

"IAMSHER LOCKED."

The tears that had been rolling in her eyes finally came out. In just a few minutes, Irene changed from a winner who threatened the British government to a loser who had nothing.

"Here you are, brother, I hope it contains enough to make up for any trouble I caused you tonight."

"Sure." Mycroft took the phone.

"If you're kind enough to lock her up and let her go, she won't live long without her phone," Sherlock said.

"Are you asking me to beg you?" Erin said incredulously.

"Yes." he said.

"Please," Irene restrained her pride, and she said in a low voice, "You are right, I will definitely not live for half a year."

"I'm sorry about the dinner."

Sherlock left straight away, while Isabella kindly took a few tissues and stuffed them into Irene's hands.

"I'm willing to bet and admit defeat." Isabella reminded her.

The author has something to say:

感谢在2021-08-0517:16:26~2021-08-0714:19:43期间为我投出霸王票或灌溉营养液的小天使哦~

Thanks to the little angel of irrigation nutrient solution: Kangaroo 108 bottles;

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