[Comprehensive British and American] Fulian Hotel

"You mean Mycroft? Are you in his car? Go to xx Hospital, where Sherlock is also on his way." Watson asked at the other end.

"...That's right...No problem..." Tony's voice came over vaguely.

The signal was really bad. After Watson finished saying this to the phone, he said hello several times, and then he only heard a beeping busy tone.

"What's wrong?" asked Steve, still not quite used to this type of modern product.

"The signal is not good, I hung up, but Stark should have heard it." Watson put the phone in his pocket and stopped a taxi.

"Where is he now?" Steve got in together and closed the car door.

"He said he was going to see Mycroft—that is, Sherlock's brother, Holmes, who is almost more powerful than the whole of England/country, and he may be in Mycroft's car right now." Watson was obviously familiar with it. Mycroft's usual method of transporting people to the car first, said in a casual tone, his mind is not here at all now, God testifies, it is good that he can control his hands not to tremble.

Steve obviously saw his worry, reached out and patted his shoulder: "Mr. Holmes will be fine."

Captain America's voice is not loud, but his voice is very stable and very soothing. He seems to be born to be such a man who can give people a sense of security. Watson nodded and smiled gratefully at him.

When the taxi arrived at the hospital, the ambulance that brought Sherlock arrived at the same time. Watson rushed to the stretcher as soon as he got out of the car. Steve took some money from his wallet and stuffed it to the driver: "Thank you, everyone It's yours." He also ran after the other party.

"Sherlock, hey Sherlock, can you hear me?" Watson put his hands on the stretcher and ran down the corridor with the medical staff.

Sherlock's face was pale, and his brows were tightly frowned. The wound on his chest had already been treated briefly in the ambulance. Watson saw a lot of blood. Rationally, he knew that the blood volume of the wound at this location was not too much. He could even be called lucky, but he couldn't control the shudder in his voice: "Sherlock? Hey, who shot you?"

He never thought, never thought about the day when he lost each other. It was not like the passing of his comrades or parents. He was infinitely sad but clearly realized that he had to go on. The lives of him and Sherlock had long been a mess. Such a pathological entanglement, he could hardly imagine what was left of him after the other party was forcibly torn apart from his life.

Sherlock opened his eyes slightly, but his eyes were loose. He didn't seem to be really awake, but just subconsciously reacted to Watson's words.

"Hey, listen to me, it's enough to stay awake for a while longer, and I'll be in the operating room soon."

Sherlock seemed to be trying to raise his hand, but now he had almost lost all strength, and the back of his hand was only slightly off the sheet before falling back down.

"Hey buddy, what's the matter?" Watson noticed it, and naturally held his hand, then froze for a moment, and took the hard cardboard in his hand calmly.

Steve stood in the corridor, watching Sherlock being wheeled into the operating room, and when he turned his head, he noticed a new person who came into his line of sight.

It was a man who was hard not to notice. He wore a retro-style three-piece suit with a straight back and looked meticulous. He held a black umbrella in his hand, and the tip of the umbrella collided with the ground too frequently It seemed to be the only place where his true emotions could be revealed.

Steve may not be as smart as Tony Sherlock and his ilk, and he is abnormal, and he can deduce everything with his thinking, but his natural keen intuition as a soldier is no worse than theirs. Just by looking at it, he can almost be sure of it. who is the person.

Natural rigor and majesty and concern for Sherlock, this is probably the brother of Sherlock who Dr. Watson said is more powerful than all British people: "Mr. Holmes?"

The visitor glanced at him and said his name accurately: "Yes, Mr. Rogers."

Steve wasn't too surprised that the other party knew his name, so he just nodded.

"Mycroft, captain." Watson walked over with a serious expression at this moment, holding a business card in his hand, "Sherlock gave it to me just now."

It was a very ordinary business card, with a string of English names printed in the center of the white paper: armandfield, and trivial information such as contact information, company address and email address printed on the lower right, but the area marked with the block and house number was used There were a few light marks on the nails, which should have been scratched by Sherlock in a hurry just now.

"This person is a guest from Mary's side. She said she was a friend of her former work place, but I remember that he didn't register to be there that day." Watson shook his head, "Why did Sherlock hold his business card? This string What do the numbers mean?"

McCoff took a few steps closer and glanced at the business card: "Would you mind letting me see it?"

Watson handed him the business card without much hesitation.

Mycroft thought about the business card for a few minutes, took out a black pen from his pocket, drew a few strokes and handed it back to Watson: "Please try to compare the names in order."

Steve bowed his head, and Mycroft blacked out all the letters on the string of addresses marked by Sherlock, leaving only the numbers. Those numbers together look like 7829345. According to the numbers, compared with the name Armandfield : "The seventh is f? The eighth is i..."

Watson was surprised: "Fireman (firefighter)? The guy Sherlock was chasing after the wedding scene caught fire? But who was that? He covered his face from the beginning to the end." Watson's impression was correct. The firefighter who had a pleasant chat with them was wrapped in heavy protective clothing from neck to toe, and also wore an isolation mask on his head. None of them saw his face at all.

Steve suddenly remembered something: "I... After saving Stark, the firefighter greeted me in the control room. At that time, he was not wearing a mask."

"who is it?"

"I have no memory of that face." Steve really didn't know, his interest in TV was limited to serious news columns, and he didn't know anything about the world they suddenly broke into.

Watson suddenly had a very bad premonition, and the premonition became stronger and stronger. Sherlock said that it was someone he had known before, and there were not many people who Sherlock could really remember and who could incite his anger...: "If you were asked to look at his picture again, would you remember it?"

"No problem." Steve said without thinking. Due to the particularity of those missions during World War II in the past, he has a very good instant memory of human faces.

Watson turned on his phone and searched for a headline in the past. The entire page showed a man sitting in a transparent display case with a golden staff and a crown on his head: "Is it... this person?"

Steve looked at the man's facial features seriously: "Yes."

This time, not only Watson, but also Mycroft's face changed slightly.

"...It really lingers."

Steve was puzzled, he looked at his watch, and suddenly turned to Mycroft and asked, "Mr. Holmes, hasn't Stark arrived yet?"

Mycroft frowned slightly. This question seemed to be beyond his expectation: "Why do you ask me this question? Since Mr. Stark dismantled the tires of ten Security Bureau vehicles that night, and also dismantled my Helicopter propeller, I don't think I should go with him."

Steve coughed. He could completely imagine Tony's arrogant and smug look when he did these things, but after two seconds of shame, he suddenly felt something was wrong, and he frowned: "But I heard Watson The doctor said he was in your car."

"I do have plans to meet and talk with him, otherwise I wouldn't be able to solve the media jammed in your hotel, but when I wanted to send a car, I received the news from here first..." Mycroft looked above the door The [Operating] sign stays on for a few seconds.

Steve was shocked, and the string called danger suddenly tightened in his mind. If it wasn't McCaw's car... then who exactly did Tony meet?

*****

"Hello? Hey? Doctor?" Tony curled his lips, looked at the phone that showed the call ended, threw it in his pocket casually, and smiled at the woman beside him, "Sorry ma'am, it seems that today is not a good date Timing, I'm going to visit your boss' younger brother first."

The moment Tony put his hand on the car door, he heard a slight "click": "Hey, don't be so enthusiastic? I can fly over by myself and avoid traffic jams." He secretly pushed and pulled a few times, and it was already It's locked.

Then he heard the characteristic sound when the car started.

It was only then that Tony noticed the driver sitting in the front row of the car. He was wearing a hat with the brim pressed down very low, casting a shadow on the side of his face, but he could be vaguely seen from the facial features as a young and handsome man. The other party smiled at Tony's slightly changed face in the rearview mirror: "Good evening, Mr. Stark."

Tony looked at the line of orange letters that had been ignored by him since he got on the car that appeared above the other person's head: "...Jim Moriarty."

"You know me? It's a great honor. I thought the people of London were very fickle. It doesn't seem so."

"Probably because I'm from New York, were you the one who shot Sherlock?" Tony looked at the fleeting scenery outside the window, and simply crossed his legs in relaxation.

"No, I don't have such good marksmanship. If it were me, my dear Sherlock would be dead by now." The other party's tone was very brisk, "Guess who? No, it's better not to let you guess." , I don't want to give you a reward for guessing right, John is very discerning, I knew he would definitely like Mary's type."

"... Oh, Mary Mary." Tony sighed helplessly, "There is really a huge shadow behind her."

"That's how she described me? Oh, I'm sorry, I always thought we got along pretty well," Moriarty said sadly.

Tony felt numbness on the back of his neck, and the lady on the phone who opened the door for him smiled coquettishly at him with a syringe, and there were still bright red drops of water on the tip of the needle, eon, Tony thought, this kind of emotion/interest Games are fun when both of you are awake, right?Moriarty's sweet and soft voice came from next to his ear, carrying a chill down his spine: "Good night, Tony, and welcome to...hell."