Mycroft was curious about the text but knew better than to pester his brother for information right then. Instead, he just texted back an affirmative answer, reminded Sherlock not to get into trouble this time, and went to go pull up the requested files.

"We should have some information soon," Sherlock said shortly as soon as he got the reply from Mycroft.

John nodded, content to wait for a little bit. But only a little bit. He was feeling a bit antsy now that they had to wait.

Sherlock paced the alley a bit, annoyed that there was nothing else for him to find. He hated waiting around for Mycroft like this.

Mycroft managed to be fairly swift about getting back to them.

A dark blue sedan pulled out into traffic, ran two red lights, and left the city proper. He included the license number. I'm still working on tracking down its location.

Sherlock made note of the plate number, forwarding it to John as well to make sure they both had it.

"Mycroft is slipping," he muttered. After a moment, he forwarded the message to Lestrade, as well, with a note.

Elena and Abigail are missing. This is the information we have.

John gave him a bit of a disapproving look but memorized the information. He knew Lestrade would jump on that too.

"So where to now?" he asked, looking at Sherlock.

Sherlock growled.

"We still have next to no information," he said. "Mycroft is being unbearably slow." And it was impossible to track one dark sedan through London and beyond.

It took Mycroft another few minutes for Mycroft to text again, and then he sent a location.

The car is here, although it's not clear if the passengers are as well. Don't be so impatient.

I've not said a word, Sherlock pointed out. He knew Mycroft was watching them through the CCTV, so the text was mostly habitual reaction.

"Come on," he added to John as he forwarded the message to Lestrade. "Mycroft finally found a location."

John nodded and let Sherlock lead the way, knowing bad things would happen if he tried to take lead. Besides, Sherlock likely had a somewhat better idea of what to expect. Probably. Maybe.

Sherlock quickly flagged down a cab and climbed in, giving instructions in a quick, clipped tone. There was no time to waste.

John waited until they had arrived to clamber out again, looking around. So far, nothing too unusual, although he did see the sedan parked a little ways down the street. So this was the right place.

As soon as Sherlock was out of the cab, he was already taking in their surroundings and all that it had to offer.

"At least three captors," he muttered. "Likely more. The sedan isn't the only car to have arrived today, but the others have left. But at least three inside."

"So why the girls?" John asked, although he was debating if he should give Sherlock his spare gun for the moment.

"Likely because they've been seen with us," Sherlock replied. "You can't possibly be oblivious to how many times we've been seen in public with them, John. You go on weekly dates with Abigail."

"While true, that's not really helpful," John said. "I don't actually have enemies like you do, Sherlock."

"Irrelevant," Sherlock replied. "You are associated with me, that's all anyone would require."

John made a face. "Right. Well, how do we want to approach this?" Because knowing Sherlock, he wouldn't want to wait for Lestrade.

"There is likely a side entrance somewhere," Sherlock said, looking at the building. "Our best chance of getting in would be a side entrance, it is less likely to be guarded."

John nodded and started moving, looking for the side entrance. He was even being quiet about it, and he figured Sherlock would do the same.

Indeed, Sherlock was being quiet and very nearly cautious as he looked for the least guarded entrance. He wasn't about to wait around for Lestrade. He rarely ever did.

John spotted a small side-door and nudged Sherlock, nodding to it. No visible people around, nothing visible around it. It should be fine.

Sherlock examined the door and nodded, testing the handle. It wasn't locked, but the hinges squeaked when it was opened. He opened it just far enough to slip inside.

John followed him, pulling out his gun, just in case. He looked around as they moved, listening for any other signs of movement in the building.