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Description
The Hidden War

Chapter Three

Warning

()()()

"Watson, go get Holmes and head to 500 Bradbury. We'll meet you there." The doctor nodded and ran off after Holmes, leaving only the other four. He managed to catch sight of him ducking into an alleyway before disappearing entirely down a side route.

"Holmes!" Watson yelled, not getting any response. "Holmes, it's safe now!" The response to this was similarly lacking, a few people looking at him oddly and nothing else. Watson rolled his eyes, groaned, and ran into the alley, looking around for any signs of Holmes.

"Holmes!" He yelled again, looking down the route he disappeared into.

"You're just great at being hidden, aren't you?" Watson mumbled, running past one alleyway and towards the next before getting assaulted by a man dressed in filth and little else. It was impossible to make out any of his features

"Spare a copper, gov?" He asked in a raspy voice that Watson could barely understand.

"No, sorry." Watson said, attempting to get away from him. A sharp clasp on his shoulder quickly stopped him.

"Please, gov, I need it!"

Watson rudely brushed the dirty hand away, not even giving him an answer this time. He walked away once more, before a tap on the shoulder stopped him a third time.

"Oh, I should have guessed. Another disguise, Holmes?"

"Guess again," A flat Norwegian voice answered, before a swift chop to the neck utterly paralyzed him. The last thing Watson saw while conscious was the vagabond pulling off some of his rags, revealing a terrifying face whose eyes were utterly blank. When he faded into unconsciousness, the white-eyed man shoved his body under a pile of debris, hiding it very well. As he heard footsteps and Holmes' voice calling out for Watson, he mumbled a bizarre series of words and his body began to change, quickly becoming a perfect match for Watson, clothes and all.

"Watson!" Holmes yelled once more, coming in from the side alley behind the imposter. "What's going on?"

Not-Watson turned around and smiled. "Don't worry, Holmes," he said, "It's safe now. Come on, we need to go to 500 Bradbury."

"Excellent." Holmes hastily ran off, the Watson clone chasing after him.

()()()

"THE BARON!?" Rothschild yelled, all of them now in the safe location. "Here? In London? We must warn the Queen! Call the Prime Minister! Call Parliament! We must prepare!"

"Oh, yeah?" Dash asked snidely. "What'll we tell 'em? That some guy with a stupid-looking eye thingy is gonna do something we haven't figured out yet? Oh, yeah, that'll fly. Like a lead brick!"

"Firstly, Dash," Jack noted, "It's called a monocle, and it's actually quite nice looking, if I may say so."

Twilight frowned. "There was something…weird about it. I don't know what it is, but I could sense…something coming out of it."

"An interesting development," Holmes said, barging in with "Watson". "You have a significant magical ability, may I assume?"

Twilight blushed. "Well, I don't like to brag, but…"

"She's pretty much the best around." Applejack noted.

"On that note…" Holmes turned to Watson. "Nice try, but whatever you're planning it isn't going to work."

Watson fidgeted. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"He's lying." Applejack said. "I can tell lying."

Watson looked left, then right, before pulling out a knife and attempting to stab Holmes with it. He was disarmed quickly, Holmes turning his wrist behind his back and embedding the knife in a wall.

"Who are you really?" Holmes demanded.

"That's none of your concern." He answered, the flat Norwegian accent coming through.

"Herobrine?" Jack asked. "Clever plan. Almost worked, too."

"He's got a message for you," Herobrine said. "You want it?"

Jack tensed. "Tell me."

"Run."

Suddenly, a slight click sounded out through the room, seemingly from inside the wall.

"What was that?" Holmes demanded, pushing Herobrine harder against the wall.

"Didn't you hear me? Run!"

There was another click, and then a fast series of them.

Jack's eyes widened. "It's a BOMB!"

"Oh no!" Adam yelled. "Quick, grab onto me!"

In a blind panic, everybody took hold of him, Holmes releasing Herobrine and allowing him to escape out of the window.

"TELEPORT!"

()()()

221b Baker Street

And just as he activated his spell, all of them ended up back at Baker Street, in Holmes' flat.

"Oh, goodness…" Holmes moaned, stumbling over to a rubbish bin and violently heaving.

"Teleport sickness." Adam explained. "You get used to it."

Dash raised her hand. "Am I the only one that can barely understand a word he's saying?"

"It doesn't get any better." Jack said, making Adam frown. "Trust me."

"What…was that?" Holmes panted, his legs subtly shaking.

"That was a teleport!" Adam said, his frown utterly disappearing instantly.

"Well, don't do that again."

"Oh, al…"

Suddenly, the bomb went off. Although they couldn't see the explosion, the sheer loudness of it, especially at that distance, was more than enough to indicate that had they stayed, they all would have died.

"Okay, so, the safehouse is gone." Jack said. "Now what?"

A knock on the door was his answer.

"Come in." Holmes moaned. The door opened, revealing a rather dirty Watson standing there.

"Well, yet again, Holmes, you've managed to drag me into something I wanted to take no part in whatsoever. Congratulations."

"Glad you're here, real Watson." Jack said.

"Now, to business. What would the Baron want?" Holmes asked.

"Probably something involving the Queen, or someone of great importance." Jack reasoned. "However, as Dash correctly noted, warning them would probably not be a good idea."

Watson put his arms up in frustration. "Well, what then?"

"Investigate the blast site?" Twilight suggested. "That could lead to something."

"An excellent suggestion." Holmes said. "Let us go over at once."

"Wait, wait, someone should stay here." Jack said. "If we all go, and he tries something else here, we're doomed."

"Good point. Watson, Twilight, was it? You come with me to investigate the wreckage."

"Hey, hey, wait, I'm not really good at this sort of thing…"

"Yes, but if something goes wrong, you stand the greatest chance of being able to protect us."

"Well…that's fair, I guess. And I might, might, be able to find something."

"Good then. Watson, do you have your revolver?"

"No, I didn't think to take it with me, Holmes, because I should be at the train station right now."

"Well, go and get it, then!"

Watson huffed, and then ran up the stairs to his room.

"What about you?" Twilight asked.

"I already have mine."

"Why?"

"I tend to keep it with me in case a situation arises that may require it."

"I've got it." Watson said, coming down the stairs and brandishing a medium-sized revolver.

"Hey, hey, hey, watch where you're pointing that thing!" Dash yelled, ducking her head down.

"Well, it's not exactly a hair trigger." Watson chided, holstering the gun within his coat.

"Do you want one?" Holmes asked Twilight.

A semblance of a frown crossed her face, but it quickly dissipated. "I'm not really comfortable using one of those."

"Well, magic should be more than enough. And now, to be off."

"We'll just stay here in case anything develops, then?" Rothschild asked.

"Indeed." Without another word, the three were off to investigate whatever they could find at the wreckage site.

()()()

Surprisingly, the building was still standing, though much of the inside had obviously been devastated. Everybody nearby had cleared out, leaving the streets completely barren except for three people standing there, examining the remains of the edifice.

"What type of bomb was this?" Watson asked. "The building is not even on fire!"

"Some sort of intense, localized explosion." Holmes conjectured. "Something that did not result in any sort of flame, probably shrapnel-based."

"I can tell from here that you're right." Twilight said. "But…something's wrong."

"What?" Watson asked.

"I…think I know what kind of bomb this was. It's from where I come from, and it's mostly magic based, so it shouldn't be here."

"How can you tell?" Holmes asked.

"The size of the explosion that could be assumed from the sound, and the fact that this entire block hasn't been leveled. It was designed to assassinate important targets without causing significant collateral damage. If I recall correctly, it creates a small field around predefined organisms, and then produces a very intense magically propelled blast of shrapnel to kill them instantly. Luckily, we teleported out of harm's way before it went off, or before it could reset the field."

"Fascinating." Holmes said. "Shall we go inside?"

"Well, I doubt you'll find anything of significant use. It's an extremely devastating weapon."

"Anything would be enough for me." Holmes kicked the door in and observed the damage. Although it was obvious that the blast had been contained perfectly by something, since at a certain radius, the damage stopped, everything within the barrier had been utterly devastated. An entire section of wall was missing, and the wallpaper was hanging off in tatters around the massive hole.

"Well, it was hidden within the wall, so obviously whoever that was had set it up a long time beforehand. The amount of preparation to hide it so perfectly must have been impressive."

"And yet the Baron still told us about it, and then there was the clicking." Watson pointed out.

"Another warning, I would imagine, and a much more serious one." Holmes thought for a moment. "It's not safe for us at 221b anymore. He knows exactly where we are, and we must make haste elsewhere if we are to survive." Holmes climbed inside the crater, examining the damage further.

"Anything at all?" Twilight asked.

"No. Everything has been destroyed…except for this!"

Holmes reached inside the remains of the wall, pulling out a small note.

"What does it say?"

" 'If you are reading this note, then congratulations, you are alive! It is obvious that you refuse to simply give up, and would prefer dying a horrible death instead. Well, if you must know, I am currently working on a most glorious machine, deep within the heart of London. Even if, by some impossible stroke of luck, you manage to stop it, I have a backup plan that is even more devastating waiting. So, it is your choice: give up now, after these two warnings, and allow thousands to die; try to stop me and fail, resulting in your deaths as well; or try to stop me and succeed, which will only make the situation vastly worse. Yours, the Baron Vlad Klaus von Schadenfreude.'"

Holmes tucked the letter in his pocket. "So, a machine in the heart of London."

"The geographic center?" Twilight suggested.

"No, more likely an area of extreme importance." Holmes said half-mindedly.

"Buckingham Palace!" Watson reasoned. "Or Trafalgar Square?"

"Gah, never mind! We should not be guessing as to the Baron' intentions without more information! If we simply investigate every location that could be taken as 'the heart of London' then we will never find anything!"

"He has a point. I think we should go back and start thinking about this in a more constructive way."

"We should stay as far away from Baker Street as possible." Holmes said. "Perhaps a stay at a hotel would be in order."

"That would probably be easiest, yes." Twilight said.

"How could we possibly pay for that?" Watson asked.

"If nothing else, I'll ask Mycroft." Holmes dismissed. "Shall we be off, then?"

"That's probably a good idea." Twilight said. "Know any good hotels?"

"A few." Holmes quickly departed, his companions following him.

()()()

London, England
Unknown Location

"Did you deliver the message, Herobrine?" The Baron asked, observing a strange machine through a glass panel. It was two massive iron cylinders connected to a central panel by a series of brass pipes and plastic tubing. A few people were milling about, dressed in high-end HazMat suits.

"Indeed." The Norwegian answered.

"Excellent." The Baron smiled, and yelled, "How is the progress on the machine?"

"It is going exactly as planned, my lord." One of the men answered, in a thick Russian accent. "We should be done in a few days."

"Excellent. And the…other project?"

"That is much more ambitious, and will take some more time to complete all the way, perhaps a month."

"No matter. Better a working product later than a shoddy one now. A shame, really. Most villains are so…impatient. They kill the bearer of bad news when he confirms that they will need more time, as opposed to…simply giving them more time."

"And you aim to fix that?" Herobrine asked.

"Yes. I was hoping that Equestria would be the start of my supreme plan, but London will serve my purpose just as well. It matters not where the beginning is, so long as I can begin."

"Unless Jack and his team manage to defeat you."

The Baron smiled. "He is not an issue. I underestimated him quite severely last time, I admit, and even if they find this…" He gestured towards the machine, "It will serve no purpose. They do not have a chance of stopping the backup plan."

"How can you be so sure?" Herobrine asked.

"Because," the Baron answered, "if it is activated…London will be nothing more than a smoldering wasteland." He chuckled. "Would it be arrogant of me to say that I am a genius?"

"I wouldn't say so, since you are."

"Good point." The Baron resumed watching the work, looking intently as his plan neared completion.

()()()

Description
The Hidden War

Chapter Three

Warning

()()()

"Watson, go get Holmes and head to 500 Bradbury. We'll meet you there." The doctor nodded and ran off after Holmes, leaving only the other four. He managed to catch sight of him ducking into an alleyway before disappearing entirely down a side route.

"Holmes!" Watson yelled, not getting any response. "Holmes, it's safe now!" The response to this was similarly lacking, a few people looking at him oddly and nothing else. Watson rolled his eyes, groaned, and ran into the alley, looking around for any signs of Holmes.

"Holmes!" He yelled again, looking down the route he disappeared into.

"You're just great at being hidden, aren't you?" Watson mumbled, running past one alleyway and towards the next before getting assaulted by a man dressed in filth and little else. It was impossible to make out any of his features

"Spare a copper, gov?" He asked in a raspy voice that Watson could barely understand.

"No, sorry." Watson said, attempting to get away from him. A sharp clasp on his shoulder quickly stopped him.

"Please, gov, I need it!"

Watson rudely brushed the dirty hand away, not even giving him an answer this time. He walked away once more, before a tap on the shoulder stopped him a third time.

"Oh, I should have guessed. Another disguise, Holmes?"

"Guess again," A flat Norwegian voice answered, before a swift chop to the neck utterly paralyzed him. The last thing Watson saw while conscious was the vagabond pulling off some of his rags, revealing a terrifying face whose eyes were utterly blank. When he faded into unconsciousness, the white-eyed man shoved his body under a pile of debris, hiding it very well. As he heard footsteps and Holmes' voice calling out for Watson, he mumbled a bizarre series of words and his body began to change, quickly becoming a perfect match for Watson, clothes and all.

"Watson!" Holmes yelled once more, coming in from the side alley behind the imposter. "What's going on?"

Not-Watson turned around and smiled. "Don't worry, Holmes," he said, "It's safe now. Come on, we need to go to 500 Bradbury."

"Excellent." Holmes hastily ran off, the Watson clone chasing after him.

()()()

"THE BARON!?" Rothschild yelled, all of them now in the safe location. "Here? In London? We must warn the Queen! Call the Prime Minister! Call Parliament! We must prepare!"

"Oh, yeah?" Dash asked snidely. "What'll we tell 'em? That some guy with a stupid-looking eye thingy is gonna do something we haven't figured out yet? Oh, yeah, that'll fly. Like a lead brick!"

"Firstly, Dash," Jack noted, "It's called a monocle, and it's actually quite nice looking, if I may say so."

Twilight frowned. "There was something…weird about it. I don't know what it is, but I could sense…something coming out of it."

"An interesting development," Holmes said, barging in with "Watson". "You have a significant magical ability, may I assume?"

Twilight blushed. "Well, I don't like to brag, but…"

"She's pretty much the best around." Applejack noted.

"On that note…" Holmes turned to Watson. "Nice try, but whatever you're planning it isn't going to work."

Watson fidgeted. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"He's lying." Applejack said. "I can tell lying."

Watson looked left, then right, before pulling out a knife and attempting to stab Holmes with it. He was disarmed quickly, Holmes turning his wrist behind his back and embedding the knife in a wall.

"Who are you really?" Holmes demanded.

"That's none of your concern." He answered, the flat Norwegian accent coming through.

"Herobrine?" Jack asked. "Clever plan. Almost worked, too."

"He's got a message for you," Herobrine said. "You want it?"

Jack tensed. "Tell me."

"Run."

Suddenly, a slight click sounded out through the room, seemingly from inside the wall.

"What was that?" Holmes demanded, pushing Herobrine harder against the wall.

"Didn't you hear me? Run!"

There was another click, and then a fast series of them.

Jack's eyes widened. "It's a BOMB!"

"Oh no!" Adam yelled. "Quick, grab onto me!"

In a blind panic, everybody took hold of him, Holmes releasing Herobrine and allowing him to escape out of the window.

"TELEPORT!"

()()()

221b Baker Street

And just as he activated his spell, all of them ended up back at Baker Street, in Holmes' flat.

"Oh, goodness…" Holmes moaned, stumbling over to a rubbish bin and violently heaving.

"Teleport sickness." Adam explained. "You get used to it."

Dash raised her hand. "Am I the only one that can barely understand a word he's saying?"

"It doesn't get any better." Jack said, making Adam frown. "Trust me."

"What…was that?" Holmes panted, his legs subtly shaking.

"That was a teleport!" Adam said, his frown utterly disappearing instantly.

"Well, don't do that again."

"Oh, al…"

Suddenly, the bomb went off. Although they couldn't see the explosion, the sheer loudness of it, especially at that distance, was more than enough to indicate that had they stayed, they all would have died.

"Okay, so, the safehouse is gone." Jack said. "Now what?"

A knock on the door was his answer.

"Come in." Holmes moaned. The door opened, revealing a rather dirty Watson standing there.

"Well, yet again, Holmes, you've managed to drag me into something I wanted to take no part in whatsoever. Congratulations."

"Glad you're here, real Watson." Jack said.

"Now, to business. What would the Baron want?" Holmes asked.

"Probably something involving the Queen, or someone of great importance." Jack reasoned. "However, as Dash correctly noted, warning them would probably not be a good idea."

Watson put his arms up in frustration. "Well, what then?"

"Investigate the blast site?" Twilight suggested. "That could lead to something."

"An excellent suggestion." Holmes said. "Let us go over at once."

"Wait, wait, someone should stay here." Jack said. "If we all go, and he tries something else here, we're doomed."

"Good point. Watson, Twilight, was it? You come with me to investigate the wreckage."

"Hey, hey, wait, I'm not really good at this sort of thing…"

"Yes, but if something goes wrong, you stand the greatest chance of being able to protect us."

"Well…that's fair, I guess. And I might, might, be able to find something."

"Good then. Watson, do you have your revolver?"

"No, I didn't think to take it with me, Holmes, because I should be at the train station right now."

"Well, go and get it, then!"

Watson huffed, and then ran up the stairs to his room.

"What about you?" Twilight asked.

"I already have mine."

"Why?"

"I tend to keep it with me in case a situation arises that may require it."

"I've got it." Watson said, coming down the stairs and brandishing a medium-sized revolver.

"Hey, hey, hey, watch where you're pointing that thing!" Dash yelled, ducking her head down.

"Well, it's not exactly a hair trigger." Watson chided, holstering the gun within his coat.

"Do you want one?" Holmes asked Twilight.

A semblance of a frown crossed her face, but it quickly dissipated. "I'm not really comfortable using one of those."

"Well, magic should be more than enough. And now, to be off."

"We'll just stay here in case anything develops, then?" Rothschild asked.

"Indeed." Without another word, the three were off to investigate whatever they could find at the wreckage site.

()()()

Surprisingly, the building was still standing, though much of the inside had obviously been devastated. Everybody nearby had cleared out, leaving the streets completely barren except for three people standing there, examining the remains of the edifice.

"What type of bomb was this?" Watson asked. "The building is not even on fire!"

"Some sort of intense, localized explosion." Holmes conjectured. "Something that did not result in any sort of flame, probably shrapnel-based."

"I can tell from here that you're right." Twilight said. "But…something's wrong."

"What?" Watson asked.

"I…think I know what kind of bomb this was. It's from where I come from, and it's mostly magic based, so it shouldn't be here."

"How can you tell?" Holmes asked.

"The size of the explosion that could be assumed from the sound, and the fact that this entire block hasn't been leveled. It was designed to assassinate important targets without causing significant collateral damage. If I recall correctly, it creates a small field around predefined organisms, and then produces a very intense magically propelled blast of shrapnel to kill them instantly. Luckily, we teleported out of harm's way before it went off, or before it could reset the field."

"Fascinating." Holmes said. "Shall we go inside?"

"Well, I doubt you'll find anything of significant use. It's an extremely devastating weapon."

"Anything would be enough for me." Holmes kicked the door in and observed the damage. Although it was obvious that the blast had been contained perfectly by something, since at a certain radius, the damage stopped, everything within the barrier had been utterly devastated. An entire section of wall was missing, and the wallpaper was hanging off in tatters around the massive hole.

"Well, it was hidden within the wall, so obviously whoever that was had set it up a long time beforehand. The amount of preparation to hide it so perfectly must have been impressive."

"And yet the Baron still told us about it, and then there was the clicking." Watson pointed out.

"Another warning, I would imagine, and a much more serious one." Holmes thought for a moment. "It's not safe for us at 221b anymore. He knows exactly where we are, and we must make haste elsewhere if we are to survive." Holmes climbed inside the crater, examining the damage further.

"Anything at all?" Twilight asked.

"No. Everything has been destroyed…except for this!"

Holmes reached inside the remains of the wall, pulling out a small note.

"What does it say?"

" 'If you are reading this note, then congratulations, you are alive! It is obvious that you refuse to simply give up, and would prefer dying a horrible death instead. Well, if you must know, I am currently working on a most glorious machine, deep within the heart of London. Even if, by some impossible stroke of luck, you manage to stop it, I have a backup plan that is even more devastating waiting. So, it is your choice: give up now, after these two warnings, and allow thousands to die; try to stop me and fail, resulting in your deaths as well; or try to stop me and succeed, which will only make the situation vastly worse. Yours, the Baron Vlad Klaus von Schadenfreude.'"

Holmes tucked the letter in his pocket. "So, a machine in the heart of London."

"The geographic center?" Twilight suggested.

"No, more likely an area of extreme importance." Holmes said half-mindedly.

"Buckingham Palace!" Watson reasoned. "Or Trafalgar Square?"

"Gah, never mind! We should not be guessing as to the Baron' intentions without more information! If we simply investigate every location that could be taken as 'the heart of London' then we will never find anything!"

"He has a point. I think we should go back and start thinking about this in a more constructive way."

"We should stay as far away from Baker Street as possible." Holmes said. "Perhaps a stay at a hotel would be in order."

"That would probably be easiest, yes." Twilight said.

"How could we possibly pay for that?" Watson asked.

"If nothing else, I'll ask Mycroft." Holmes dismissed. "Shall we be off, then?"

"That's probably a good idea." Twilight said. "Know any good hotels?"

"A few." Holmes quickly departed, his companions following him.

()()()

London, England
Unknown Location

"Did you deliver the message, Herobrine?" The Baron asked, observing a strange machine through a glass panel. It was two massive iron cylinders connected to a central panel by a series of brass pipes and plastic tubing. A few people were milling about, dressed in high-end HazMat suits.

"Indeed." The Norwegian answered.

"Excellent." The Baron smiled, and yelled, "How is the progress on the machine?"

"It is going exactly as planned, my lord." One of the men answered, in a thick Russian accent. "We should be done in a few days."

"Excellent. And the…other project?"

"That is much more ambitious, and will take some more time to complete all the way, perhaps a month."

"No matter. Better a working product later than a shoddy one now. A shame, really. Most villains are so…impatient. They kill the bearer of bad news when he confirms that they will need more time, as opposed to…simply giving them more time."

"And you aim to fix that?" Herobrine asked.

"Yes. I was hoping that Equestria would be the start of my supreme plan, but London will serve my purpose just as well. It matters not where the beginning is, so long as I can begin."

"Unless Jack and his team manage to defeat you."

The Baron smiled. "He is not an issue. I underestimated him quite severely last time, I admit, and even if they find this…" He gestured towards the machine, "It will serve no purpose. They do not have a chance of stopping the backup plan."

"How can you be so sure?" Herobrine asked.

"Because," the Baron answered, "if it is activated…London will be nothing more than a smoldering wasteland." He chuckled. "Would it be arrogant of me to say that I am a genius?"

"I wouldn't say so, since you are."

"Good point." The Baron resumed watching the work, looking intently as his plan neared completion.

()()()