Team Lobster
Sherlock - Moriarty - Goliath - Xanatos
PART ONE
PART TWO
PART THREE
As the furry, fanged creatures lunged at him, Sherlock darted aside and reached for the sliding hatch. One of the creatures chomped down of the long tail of his coat, but he ignored it. Throwing the hatch open, he shouted to Xanatos.
“Bank left, now!” he cried, looping a cargo strap around his arm. The helicopter heaved sharply, and the furry creatures began tumbling through the open hatch. Without legs, they had no way to gain traction on the deck. Sherlock drew his leg back and gave the furball clinging to his coat a swift kick, stunning it. After the last creature fell into the ocean, Sherlock slid the door closed.
“What the hell were those things?” Xanatos asked, leveling out their flight. “I don’t remember Captain Kirk being eaten by the tribbles on the Enterprise.”
“I never watched any Star Trek,” Sherlock said as he began to examine the one he’d kicked unconscious. “But I don’t think these are from the future. They’ve clearly been genetically engineered.” Gingerly, he pried open the tiny creatures jaws. “They’ve got some sort of venom sac here. That must be how they’re able to subdue their prey. Clearly, they have voracious appetites.”
“So, where did they come from?”
Sherlock checked under the creature’s fur. “There’s a GPS tag on this one.” He yanked it off. “If I can reverse the signal, we can follow it back to its origin.”
Xanatos nodded. “Sounds like a plan. Just do me a favor - throw that thing overboard.”
Moriarty’s small boat skimmed the water quickly. Goliath stood near the gunwale, vigilant. Soon, Goliath’s keen night vision spotted an island in the distance. “There,” he pointed.
Moriarty nodded. “That’s where we’re going.” The boat drew close to a cliff face and he gestured to the top. “Up there.”
Goliath jumped from the boat to the sheer rock wall, digging his talons into the stone to gain purchase. Moriarty tossed him a coiled rope. Slowly, Goliath ascended to the top of the cliff and lowered the rope down to Moriarty. When he pulled the human to the top, Goliath saw that the man was carrying a small briefcase.
As they turned to walk towards the center of the island, Goliath heard a helicopter approaching. Moriarty opened his briefcase and pulled out a small grenade launcher. He checked that a round loaded, and then took aim at the helicopter.
“Wait! What are you doing?” Goliath yelled.
“I’m doing you a favor,” Moriarty said calmly. “That’s a Xanatos chopper.”
“No! He may be useful to us!” Goliath said. He spread his wings and roared, ready to knock the weapon out of Moriarty’s hand. Instead, the man lowered the gun.
“If you insist. I suppose there will be plenty of time for that later,” Moriarty said. He put the grenade launcher back in his briefcase.
The helicopter landed on a strip of land near the edge of the cliff. Xanatos and another human climbed out. The second man wore a long, black coat and a scarf, despite the fact that they were in the tropics.
“Goliath, I presume?” the man said. “Sherlock Holmes.”
“You must be the detective,” Goliath said.
“Ah, Sherlock, I see you’ve made another friend,” Moriarty said sarcastically. “David Xanatos? Jim Moriarty. Hi-i.”
“Yes, Mr. Moriarty,” Xanatos said, shaking the man’s hand. “Mr. Holmes told me about you.”
“I’m sure he has,” Moriarty said. “Shall we be off then?”
“And how is you know where we’re going?” Sherlock asked. “Did you pull a GPS tracker off of one of those genetically-engineered creatures, too, or were you just planning on stumbling about in the dark until they found you?”
Moriarty opened his briefcase again. This time he pulled out a cell phone. “Dr. Moreau? Jim Moriarty. Hi-i. Listen, I’ve some friends here who’d like to pop ‘round for tea.” Xanatos and Sherlock stared at him in shock. Moriarty put the phone away. “Oh, come on. You didn’t think I was serious, did you?”
Sherlock glowered at him. “Stop the games, Moriarty. I know you’re behind this.”
“Me? Me-e?” Moriarty said. “Rather obvious, don’t you think? Besides, I’m not the only arch-nemesis here, am I… Goliath?”
The gargoyle crossed his arms over his massive chest. “No. I would not put it past Xanatos to orchestrate something like this.”
Xanatos gestured to the pile of bones in the pilot’s seat of the helicopter. “That’s my own pilot’s bones in that chopper. Those… tribbles nearly ate the two of us, as well.”
“You have shown very little compassion were your employees are concerned, especially helicopter pilots,” Goliath growled. “You have also been known to stage attempts on your own life to set up your schemes.”
“My, that doesn’t sound very trustworthy,” Moriarty said. “How is it that you came to associate yourself with such a despicable character, Sherlock?”
“I needed a lift,” the detective said sharply. “Goliath, we need to go. Dawn is only two hours away. Leave these two here to stroke each others egos while we find out who’s behind these creatures and the attacks. We can deal with them later.”
“You make sense, detective. But I would prefer not to let them out of my sight. Moriarty, give him your case. Xanatos, give me the keys to your helicopter. A gesture of good faith until we solve this mystery.”
Xanatos and Moriarty looked at each other. Xanatos opened his mouth to protest, but the gargoyle’s expression made it clear that he would brook no argument. He tossed Goliath the keys, and Moriarty handed the case to Sherlock. Together, they walked into the jungle.
“So, do really turn to stone during the day? I mean, your physiology must be astounding. And you’ve been alive for over a thousand years? Do you age at all?”
Since they started walking through the jungle, the British detective had not stopped asking Goliath questions. Goliath had answered as many as he could, but there seemed to be no end to the man’s curiosity. He was on the verge of telling the man to be quiet when they came to a clearing with a large building in the center.
Xanatos consulted his GPS device. “This is it. Whatever is receiving the signal from the tracking devices on those tribbles must be inside.”
“Sherlock, this might be a good time to let me have my case back,” Moriarty said.
“Forget it,” Sherlock said gruffly.
“Suit yourself. It’s your funeral,” Moriarty warned.
“Quiet, both of you. There’s something going on inside,” Xanatos whispered.
Through the windows in the sides of the building, they could see an immense shape heaving. It was round and golden-furred, and they could make out dozens of the much smaller creatures crawling all over it.
“Sherlock, if you would be so kind as to reach inside my case, you will find a M320 grenade launcher,” Moriarty said. “I trust you know what one looks like.”
Sherlock opened the case and pulled out the grenade launcher. He checked the safety, and then took aim at the center window. He turned to look at Goliath.
“Wait,” the gargoyle said. “You might destroy any evidence of who created that abomination.”
“You’ve weren’t almost eaten by one of them,” Sherlock said. “That’s a chance I’m willing to take.” He pulled the trigger.
The grenade burst through the front window of the building and struck the creature. The explosion blew the building apart, sending debris and flaming tribbles flying. As the smoke cleared, they saw that the massive creature was still alive, writhing as the fire singed off its golden fur. It shuddered and wailed, its mouth opening wide to reveal teeth the size of broadswords. Suddenly, it began to rise from the wreckage of the building on eight spindly legs.
“It appears that the building was serving to restrain it,” Sherlock observed. “While the offspring may be legless, it appears that the mother is not.” He reached inside the case for another grenade round, but came up empty-handed.
As the mother tribble staggered towards them, Goliath leaped forward. Curling into a ball, he bowled through three of the creature’s legs, knocking it off balance.
Xanatos drew a laser pistol from inside his jacket and began to fire at the creature’s face. He struck two of its eyes, but as its fur burned away, it apparently had four more.
Goliath tried to knock out another of its legs, but the creature regained its footing and lashed out at him. The gargoyle was thrown backwards and struck a large tree.
Sherlock, Moriarty and Xanatos were still on their feet, but the creature was almost on top of them now. Xanatos’s laser pistol had no effect, and Moriarty just stood there, looking bored. With nothing else in his hands, Sherlock threw Moriarty’s case as hard as he could at the creature’s face. It caught the case in its jaws and chomped down.
Moriarty lazily drew a small device from his pocket and pressed a button. The case exploded in the creature’s mouth, blowing its face apart. It slumped to the ground, a smoking, bloody ruin.
“Drat,” Moriarty said, putting the detonator back in his pocket and looking sideways at Sherlock. “I was saving that for you.” He turned on his heel and strolled back into the jungle.
Goliath returned shakily to his feet. “So it’s over?”
“Not quite,” Sherlock said. “What are we going to do about those?”
From the mother’s corpse, hundreds of little tribbles were chewing their way free and spilling onto the grass. Snarling, they moved as one, swarming around Goliath, Sherlock, and Xanatos. Xanatos started firing, but there were too many of them…
