Mycroft has thanked Mrs. Hudson, as he left her and made his way up to the upper apartment. He knew Sherlock and John were currently away, but since the case was already wrapped up, he was just going to wait for them upstairs.
He noticed, that the door of the 221B apartment were open, yet he didn't get a message from his team, that Sherlock or John had returned yet. He slowly opened the door, and entered, looking around.
On John's chair, there sited a small man , who stiffly turned around his body to look who had come. His face was passive.
"If you are looking for Sherlock's help, he is going to be busy of a while."
The man slowly stood up, and turned to Mycroft.
"Oh, no mister Holmes, I am not your brother client. Or potential client."
He moved slowly toward Mycroft, and he noticed his limp.
"Where are my manners? Harold Wren. Pleasure to meet you, mister Holmes."
He extended his hand, and waited for Mycroft to grab it. He didn't do it for a couple of seconds, then he extended his arm as well.
"Harold Wren? John's lawyer?"
Harold tried to smile, but it was uncomfortable.
"I mostly deal with insurance, but yes, I also take care of Dr. Watson's legal matters."
He sat down on John's chair again, and Mycroft followed.
"I wasn't aware John is in a need of a lawyer."
"He isn't. I seems to be in a need of his help."
Mycroft looked at him as in question, but Harold did not elaborate. He simply studied the person in front of him. Mycroft's eyes narrowed.
"You don't give a impression of a lawyer. Or somebody working for the insurance."
Harold raised his eyebrow, as he moved back just a tiny bit.
"Well, I am not working as a lawyer. But rest assure, my insurance practice is real and pretty successful."
Mycroft griped his umbrella a little more.
"And yet, you do not spent a lot of time there."
There was a second of a pause.
"As interesting as my life might be, I have to tell you, I am a very private person."
Mycroft leaned forward.
"Not even what you want from John?"
Harold tightened his lips, as he glanced at Mycroft's umbrella.
"Not even that."
Mycroft raised his umbrellas and he pointed the tip to Harold, but he looked at the umbrella clam, but not uninterested.
"I am not afraid to die, Mr. Holmes."
He flipped a switch, and the needle cam out, stopping inch from Harold's face.
At that time, they both heard the voices on the stairs and two people came to the room. On of them looked at both of the sitting, finding them uninterested, but the other glanced at them, and in the next second, the umbrella was already in the air and in the next, Mycroft had a gun on his face. Sherlock and Mycroft froze, as Mycroft had looked at John's face in front of him.
"If you try to even think about hurting him again, I will kill you."
Mycroft lowered his umbrella, as Harold said.
"John, you are overreacting. We were just talking."
John lowered his gun and turned his head to look at the person behind him, smiling. Harold was standing up behind him.
"No comment about being uncomfortable around guns."
John's voice had a tint of surprise there, but no question. He turned to him completely, hugging him and then letting him go.
"Well, my partner decided to stash his arsenal inside my library."
John face light up.
Harold nodded stiffly, fut even he was smiling. Then he become serious.
"That is what I would like to ask you help with. I can't seems to locate him."
John smiled at Harold looked at him.
"You know where he is?"
John was a little uncomfortable.
"Well, I know where somebody having his description might be. But I can get you a picture?"
He took out his telephone, and both Mycroft and Sherlock looked at it, as it was not his usual phone. He then input the message and sent, then input another number in it and pressed call, then he ended the call without doing anything.
"It could be a trap."
John looked at him surprised. Harold pointed on the phone, but the gesticulation was minimal.
"How many people on the world do know about that system?"
John smiled, stopping his laugh.
"Well, somebody we both know decided that his coworker should have the choice, that the British government had taken from him."
Harold smiled as he looked at the other two in the room.
"John, we forgot our manners. You should really introduce me to your flatmate."
John looked on his left, and noticed with surprise, that Sherlock was looking at him, his attention clearly on the two of them. John clearly felt more uncomfortable.
"Harold, this is Sherlock Holmes, my... Friend."
"Sherlock, this is Harold."
He indicated with his arm to he was talking about. He nodded, as he finished the introduction with a tense jaw.
Harold took a couple of steps and extended his arm.
"Pleasure to finally meet you, Sherlock. John told me a lot about you."
Sherlock slowly extended his arm, but his grip was strong.
"Can say the same to you."
Harold glanced with smile to John.
"He wouldn't know me well, if he would have done that."
Sherlock looked him from up to down.
"American, working mostly with the computers. They represent an escape from your reality, since you normally don't mingle with people. Genius, but you do not want people to know about that. Paranoid, probably from working for a intelligence, probably FBI. You are a little to acclimatized to guns, for not liking them. Now you are probably hiding from them. Been engaged, maybe even married, but not for years. Not because of problem, more likely death. And you have a big dog with brown, short fur, that is well trained."
Sherlock delivered his deductions, but Harold didn't react at all. He narrowed his eyes. But them he looked at him curiously.
"I am not going to correct you mistakes, Mr. Holmes."
Sherlock was taken aback, but he tried not to show it. At that, John's other phone ringed for incoming message, and Harold turned and took the phone, looking at it. He sighed.
"That is him."
He tried to give the phone back to John, but he shook his head.
"You memorized the protocol, right?"
Harold's look told him a lot.
"So, call me when you are going to have a rescue plan."
Harold looked at him in surprise and John just smiled.
"It definitely going to be fun."
Harold looked st him, looking, then turned around.
"I have a usual room."
John nodded, as Harold turned to the Holmes brothers.
"It was nice to finally meet you."
And with these words, he left the room, and later the building.
Both Holmes brothers turned to John, who tried to appear as innocent as possible.
"As he said it himself, I would not have known him much, if I would choose to talk about him."
He than turned to Sherlock.
"It was impressive deduction, but he probably takes more comfort in the assumptions that you make."
As none of them said anything for a second, he turned and went to the kitchen.
"Would anybody else like some tea?"