Chapter 9

25th of September, Russel Street, London, Starbucks Coffee Shop

Sherlock was drinking his coffee- black, no sugar, no milk. Taking out his mobile he checked the time. Already four past one. He frowned. Otherwise he could wait a little longer, staying right in the lion's den. Some minutes more or less didn't matter anyway.

"A Latte Macchiato, please" The waitress behind the bar turned to the milk frother ignoring her guests for the moment.

"You are late. And I'D LIKE to have and explanation if you'd be so kind."

Irene could not believe how foolish she'd been. After all this was Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Impossible he wouldn't have decoded her little riddle. She decided to ignore him paying her coffee than turning to leave the shop again.

"I give you the choice, Irene. You could either follow me or tell me everything or I could call the police and send you on a nice little holiday. I will get what I want at any rate. So pray tell me what it shall be then."

Holmes' face clearly showed that she had no chance to escape, his eyes burning with determination.

Otherwise she could at least try. After all she was not just anyone. She was Irene Adler, The Woman.

No guts, no glory.

But Holmes had already caught her thoughts.

"Look, I'm armed and quite keen on finding my friend so don't think I only bluff. You could as well give me the information voluntarily."

Irene was shocked. Never had she thought the other to be this resolved. So the doctor actually was his weak point? Interesting. She would tell her ally ASAP. It would be a shame not using this piece of information for her purpose.

"Alright, alright" she sighed. "Here you go." She handed him an envelope. Sherlock opened it, finding some photos and a DVD inside. Turning his gaze back to her he asked: "Is that all?"

"Of course it is. Your little boy isn't that important after all. And don't worry; there are no other copies of it. I swear."

She eyed him wistfully one last time.

"Goodbye, Mr. Holmes. " Somehow she would indeed miss him. Having someone of your intellect wasn't that bad, considering her life turned out to be quite dull besides her criminal activities.

"Sweet dreams, Irene" She had no time to respond before dizziness claimed her and she fell to the floor. Who would have imagined that Holmes' new sleeping drug showed such an extraordinary effect within her Latte Macchiato.

Smiling contently he left the small street beside the coffee shop leaving a sleeping Irene between the ashcans.

In his pocket he finally had some useful indications to John's and Mycroft's whereabouts.