Chapter Text
There was never a dull moment with Mycroft’s job.
If he’d wanted an easy, cushy role, he’d made a poor decision. His position did pay very well but he certainly worked for it. He enjoyed what he did a lot more than most people would assume given his stress levels, but then again, it had been the only thing he’d had going for him for a very long time. Work and Sherlock were two full time commitments and Mycroft had very little else in his life to care about in between.
That was until Greg came along. These days Mycroft found that as much as he loved his work, getting to go home at a decent time was also quite enjoyable. How could it not be when you had someone like Greg waiting with dinner and a drink? Taking time off seemed much more appealing when they could enjoy it together in Paris or Italy instead of him sitting at home alone reading a book. Neither of those things came easily to him with the amount of work and pressure he dealt with but he was much more likely to try these days.
Today was not going to be one of them. He and Anthea hadn’t stopped all morning. Three meetings, a ridiculous piece of proposed legislation to look over, two death threats to handle and it wasn’t even lunch. A fairly average Tuesday all things considered. He did have one thing to look forward to though. Greg was coming to his office for lunch. A tradition they’d kept long after it stopped being necessary or even remotely about Sherlock.
“-and after that, a meeting with the foreign minister” Anthea finished, adding yet another file to his desk and barely looking up as she went through her list.
“Hm?” Mycroft replied, scrubbing a hand down his face and looking at the file she’d just put in front of him.
She looked up from her phone, lips pressed together and the corners turning down ever so slightly.
“Sir..” She started, and Mycroft couldn’t help but smile almost imperceptibly at the very obvious disapproval in her voice. There were very few people in this office brave enough to talk to him like that
“Apologies, Anthea, my mind was elsewhere” He admitted, finishing off the now cold coffee on his table and picking up the file she’d given him. “What were you saying?”
She clicked her tongue, sitting on the edge of his desk and crossing her legs over, glancing down at her list again. “Lady Smallwood has requested a meeting although..” She pursed her lips again, eyes narrowing slightly. “The attendance list is a bit odd. I’ll follow up. And then you’ll need to sign off on that proposal Williams has been pestering you about because quite frankly I’m tired of him cornering me in the elevator to ask if you’ve made a decision” Mycroft let out a small huff of laughter. “And after that you’ve got the meeting with the foreign secretary” She finished, before locking her phone and placing it down on the desk.
“And of course your lunch with Greg” She added, a small smile finally cracking through her facade. “Although…” Her eyebrows knitted together slightly as she took in how tired he looked. “I could also clear your schedule for the afternoon and you could just go home with him. You did work through the weekend sir” She added, watching him carefully.
Mycroft smiled, shaking his head and waving his hand slightly. “No, it’s quite alright. I think I just need another coffee” He admitted, getting up and stretching slightly. “Alright, if you’re sure” She conceded with a brief nod. “At the very least I’ll speak with Lady Smallwood and see if we can’t make that an email” She added, typing away at her phone again now.
“What would I do without you Anthea?” Mycroft asked, a much more genuine smile spreading across his face now.
“Quit, probably” She replied with a small smirk and Mycroft honestly didn’t know whether that had been meant as a joke, but she certainly wasn’t wrong. “Oh and before I forget” She added and Mycroft paused on his way to the door, turning back to her. ‘You should know your security level has been increased Sir. Greg and Sherlock too, of course. Nothing they need to know about, just the usual. But there’s been some chatter among MI6 of an organised attempt at strategic pressure points in the government. Nothing confirmed, just rumors at this point. But MI6 are treating it as top priority. I’ve read the report so you don’t have to but frankly it was rather lacking. There’s a copy on your laptop if you’d like to look it over” She rattled off like it was no big deal.
After all, it was just another Tuesday.
After a moment however, she paused, looking up from her screen again. “Watch your back Sir” She said, just a touch more serious before collecting her things and heading into the ante room connected to his office. It’s where she preferred to get her work done.
Mycroft had offered on more than one occasion to add a desk in there, or even in his own office for her. She preferred, however, to stay as flexible as possible given she was always running around either after or for him.
“I will” He promised, before heading out of the room in pursuit of a decent coffee. He really did need another PA. Coffee was well below Anthea’s paygrade and he wouldn’t insult her by asking her to go get him one. Not that it stopped her from bringing them for him anyway, but he never asked. He pulled out his phone while he waited at the elevator to check the time. 30 minutes until Greg would be here for lunch. He was very much looking forward to it. In the meantime he opened up the meeting agenda Lady Smallwood had sent him and frowned slightly. There really wasn’t a lot of information which usually meant it was something highly confidential and if not urgent, at least a high priority. He doubted he’d be getting out of it.
He also made a note to speak with the foreign secretary during their meeting later about this new threat. Mycroft was the head of M16 and should have known about it long before the report hit his desk, whether they were just rumors or not. Especially if their suspected targets included him. Obviously that hadn’t been in the report specifically, but government pressure points? A fairly simple deduction. Certainly he would be among them. And not even a mention of where these rumors might be coming from? What cell was involved? It obviously wasn’t domestic or MI5 would have been on it instead. He made a sound of irritation as he stepped out of the elevator. This had just become a very uncomfortable meeting for the secretary.
Not even five minutes later he was heading back up to his office, coffee in hand. But as he stepped out into the hallway leading back to his office he stopped, immediately on high alert, his body tensing.
Something was wrong.
It wasn’t unusual for the office to be quieter at this time of day. If there’s one thing most politicians loved it was to wine and dine. A few of them preferred to eat in their offices like Mycroft (Assuming he ate at all) but a good majority of them went out. It was only just coming up to lunch now, however, and Mycroft felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up at the absolute dead silence that greeted him. If he had to guess the entire floor was empty save for Anthea who he’d just left in his office. How, and more importantly, why had things changed so fast? He hadn’t been gone long.
He stood still and silent for a few moments weighing up his options. He could raise the alarm, although that felt a little extreme based on very little information. He knew something wasn’t right but that was all he had to go on. His umbrella was in his office which meant his gun was not on hand. Pity, a weapon always made these situations less complicated. He could also just turn around and get back in the elevator but Anthea was still up here. If something was wrong he was hardly going to just leave her behind.
It took only a few seconds, his eyes rapidly taking in every detail in the hallway and providing him with any information he could find. It had been less than five minutes. Not enough time for any sort of struggle or mass casualty. The hallway didn’t look like it had been disturbed at all. There were three doors open between him and his own office which meant three potential hiding places if someone unfriendly was in the building. Proceed with caution. His eyes flicked up to check the cameras on the hall were all in operation and at least visually did not appear to have been tampered with.
A frustratingly small amount of information to go off.
As a final resort he pulled out his phone and fired off a text to Anthea.
Are you still in my office? MH
Of course, sir. A
Everything okay? A
Thankfully she was quick on the draw when it came to replying. Nothing seemed immediately wrong so perhaps he was simply losing his touch. (Doubtful but possible. Middle age, as he’d told Sherlock). He’d barely taken one step towards his office when the door to the emergency staircase next to the elevator opened. He had no weapon and was standing out in the hallway which meant there was very little he could do to defend himself as someone stepped into the hall.
His eyes took in every detail available, as quickly as possible and relaxed just slightly. They had no weapon drawn and at least appeared to be a member of security. Mycroft didn’t recognise him though and his eyes narrowed slightly. The gun at his waist seemed to be standard issue, his ID, if fake, was incredibly convincing. Ear piece was correct, the uniform was up to code. If he didn’t work here he’d certainly done his research.
“Sir, you need to come with me” He said, sounding slightly breathless, most likely from the stairs. Out of shape then. Concerning, but not entirely surprising if most of his security work kept him within the building. The fact that Mycroft didn’t recognise him was still the most concerning part. He was snapped out of his thoughts however by the urgent tone, eyes flicking up to the man's face instead.
“Explain” He said simply, his own gaze cold and unwavering.
“There’s a bomb somewhere in the building, we’re evacuating. I’ve been ordered to make sure you get out” He said quickly, stepping forward to reach for Mycroft’s arm who stepped back and out of his reach.
“Why hasn’t the alarm been raised?” He snapped, not caring at all whether this was directly the fault of the person in front of him or not.
“This building is full of people, I’m not the only one that needs to be evacuated” He added sharply.
“They have been, Sir” The young man, Christopher going by his name badge, in front of him replied quickly. He was sounding more anxious by the minute. “They’re evacuating everyone as we speak. They didn’t raise the alarm because they don’t want to tip off the culprit that we know. Apparently this is quite serious" He added, bouncing on the balls of his feet impatiently.
Mycroft made another sound of irritation in the back of his throat. This was ridiculous. Processes being ignored left and right. He would not be letting this slide once it was over.
“Very well, but obviously no one’s bothered to warn Anthea so we’re getting her first” Mycroft replied firmly, turning back towards his office.
“I can’t let you do that, Sir” Christopher replied, now grabbing Mycroft’s arm with much more force
“My orders were to make sure you get out of here. We don’t have time to go back for her.”
“I would be very careful about what you say next” Mycroft snapped, voice now cold as ice. “If there is a serious threat in this building I will not simply leave her behind. Do you understand me?”
Apparently, he did not. Christopher was now gripping his arm with surprising strength for his size and attempting to manhandle him towards the emergency stairs.
“Sir with all due respect, you're far too valuable. She’s hardly worth- “
Whatever he had been about to say, Mycroft would never know. He punched the young man square in the face in a moment of impulsive rage that would have made Sherlock proud. Granted, it had been the more practical solution. He couldn’t waste time standing here arguing or trying to get himself out of being manhandled into the stairwell but… he wouldn’t deny he’d taken some pleasure from it. Mycroft turned on his heel and raced towards his office, which would have been quite the sight if anyone else had been around to see it. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something about all of this was very off. If what Christopher had said was true, someone was getting fired. If not, he very well could be walking right into a trap.
But he wasn’t about to leave Anthea alone one way or the other.