Conventus Mycroft Holmes

Meeting Mycroft Holmes, April 2004.

Melissa Cartwright is always one for pushing the boundaries. As a child she would be the last one to go to bed or to eat her vegetables. In her teenage years it turned into a rebellious streak that is still present today. Her hair used to be a constantly changing array of colours through high school. She involved herself in more school clubs and activities then was probably wise and was often out past her curfew without telling her mother where she was.

Melissa did well in school. She was naturally bright, had a flair for languages and art and was good with technology. She took her A-levels and enrolled in a Bachelor of Journalism at Westminster University, graduating with honours.

Yet despite all this, she finds herself at 24 with a degree and no future career, heading a team of technical support for the transport department of the British government. The only upside is her small flat in the outskirts of Greater London with her cat Sophia and the fact that her family was 166 miles away.

Each day would start the same. She rises, feeds Sophia and goes to work.

Melissa walks up to security clipping her ID on as she goes. "Morning Charlie, how's the kid?"

"Grown. It's his birthday. Just turned three," Charlie replied, waving her through with a smile.

"Give him a hug from me."

Melissa turns towards the row of lifts nimbly snaring a newspaper form the stand by the door before stepping in and pressing the button for the 5th floor. Stepping out into a brightly lit office separated into compartments by the numerous desks, Melissa sighs before making her way to the small office at the end of the room. It's a small mercy she even gets this; with the way cost cutting has been occurring across all the IT departments.

There's a knock on the door, and before Melissa can even respond the door is opened and Kelsey, a member of her team, walks in closing the door behind her.

"Sorry for barging in before you're even organised but these just came through marked class 1."

Melissa bends placing her paper and bag on her desk before taking the offered file. "Who from?"

"No idea. Came via the regular route though, but I don't recognise the signature."

"Huh. Odd." She turns, reaching across the desk to turn on her computer. "Thanks. I'll get on them. Casey in?"

"Not yet. From what I heard he had a big night." Kelsey smirks, and Melissa can tell she is itching to tell the story.

"Is that so?"

"He finally got Liz to go out for drinks."

Melissa smiles slightly before replying, "The girl from finance? He's been going after her for months."

"He has. Finally got her too from what I've heard."

"Good. Someone deserves something to go right." Melissa sits down at the desk before pointing at the door. "Now shoo, work to do. We'll take break together."

"Catch you"

Kelsey smiles before closing the door behind her, and Melissa sees her diverting another team member who was about to knock on her door. Melissa mentally makes a note to thank her for it later. For as much as she loves the people she works with, their inability to make decisions on their own can be more frustrating than having to complete all the paperwork from the department in one night. Shaking her head once, she logs on and opens up the file Kelsey bought to her.

ATT: Head of Transport Technical Support.

August 23, 16.25.

For immediate delivery.

Re: job 34098

Message: Please stop all data recovery on this job immediately. Drive must be catalogued for transfer as per standard procedure to department 67. Please ensure personal delivery of articles to security on ground floor of Home Office by 10am on August 24. For further instructions contact: ext.928.

Authorisation: MH.

Job 34098. She types the file number into the database and clicks on the result to pull up the details. Submitted on Tuesday, hard-drive failure. Request for data-recovery and replacement drive. As per the notes, the replacement had been sent but the process on the data-recovery had come to a standstill, something about non-recognised drive. The drive itself was logged as being at Steven's workstation.

Melissa walks out the office and around to Steven's desk, the file under her arm.

"Steven, got a question for you."

Steven swings around in his chair to look at Melissa. "Yes, my sunshine?"

Melissa shoots him a wiry smile. "Stop that. The drive you were looking at yesterday afternoon, 34098, what was the issue with it?"

"Not sure. Plugged it into my computer, wouldn't registered the drive. It appeared briefly and I clicked on it, before a message came up stating this drive could not be found. Not even when I ran the COREX program."

"Mind if I take a look? Transfer request on it. Department 67."

Steven's head snaps up sharply. "67 you said?"

"Yes. Does that sound familiar to you?"

"Yea. Nothing ever gets returned when it goes to department 67. No one knows quite what they do. No official records. Or at least not ones we can get into. Classified."

"Huh, odd." She picks up the drive and turns to walk away before turning back to Steven. "You wouldn't happen to know who an MH is, would you?"

Steven shakes his head. "Never heard of them."

Melissa nods her thanks before walking back into her office.

MH. Department 67.

No results.

It was the fourth attempt Melissa had tried without any form of success. Department 67 was listed as special security in the directory, and the initials MH when entered into the personnel database turned up any number of names, but none that listed the office of Department 67. Ext. 928 when dialled directed to Home Office general security with a pre-recorded message of information or the option to speak to a staff member. Looking back at the job report, Melissa had one more idea to work out what was special about this particular drive. She called the secretary of the transport division and waited.

"Hello, you have reached the Department of Transport, London office. Susanne speaking, how may I help you?"

"It's Melissa from tech support. Quick question, looking back at the hard drive sent in yesterday, any idea what exactly happened to it?"

"Much as I know, Mr Huntington was reviewing the footage of arriving delegates to the dinner last night. Part way through an error message popped up and then the computer shut down. Couldn't get it to do a thing until one of your guys came and replaced the drive."

"Delegates dinner?" Melissa pulls across her note pad and jots down the information, carefully balancing the phone between her ear and shoulder.

"Yes. Was in the memo this morning. Discussion on global policies happening currently. Do you not keep up with the news?"

She twists around to pull over the newspaper from earlier. "Sorry, been busy," Melissa replies.

"Not that it's relevant for you down in tech. Must go, I have better things to do than trade idle gossip."

There's a click, then the dial tone. Sighing Melissa says "a have a wonderful day" before beginning to flick through the newspaper, stopping when se comes across the headline A CLIMATE OF CHANGE, BUT WILL IT CHANGE ANYTHING? accompanied by and article and a spread of pictures. Something tells her that if MH is in a high enough position to not appear on official databases, then he will most likely be involved in one of the highest security events of the year. Melissa peers across the photos, scanning through the captions until one captures her eye.

Mr Holmes and Sir Leonard greet the ambassador from Greece, Mr Ioannou.

Mr Holmes. It's the best option Melissa has to go with. She isn't even sure why she wants to know so much. A gut instinct that there is more to this than meets the eye. She stands taking the completed transfer documentation and the drive with her, picking up her coat and bag before leaving the office.

Outside she opts for a cab, not wanting to face the tube when it is the start of school holidays and peak tourist time. Melissa loves London, and since moving here 5 years ago, no other place could ever feel like home. The cobblestone streets, the slightly dirty buildings, and grey weather are something she has gotten used to over the years.

Standing outside the rather impressive building that houses the Home Office, Melissa wonders what she is doing; why she is even considering trying to find out what a man who theoretically doesn't even exist is doing. She steps forward, takes a breath and walks over to the security desk handing over her ID for examination.

"I have a transfer here for a -" she takes a breath, "- a Mr Holmes."

The guard's eyes flick briefly up from his examination of her ID before handing it back over and opening his hand. "I can transfer it for you."

Melissa pulls out the original request from the file. "It says here it's for personal delivery. I need to make sure it reaches its destination."

With a bored nod of his head, the guard waves her on. "Floor ten."

Melissa smiles in thanks him before turning and taking a deep, steadying breath. She feels like she doesn't belong, that any second one of the actual staff members is going to call her out and demand to know what she is doing here, outside of her normal department. It's with shaking hands that she eventually reaches floor ten and steps into a small office with polished timber floor and full-length windows. There are two desks set up, yet only one occupied by a harried looking man in his late 30's and a door on one side which opens the moment Melissa steps into the office.

A man walks out, tall and impeccably dressed in a dove grey three-piece suit. A file is in his hand, the pages being slowly turned as he steps into the space.

"Tyler, I need-," he stops seeing Melissa standing in the doorway. He straightens slightly, his face fading into a blank mask. "Miss Cartwright. Transport tech support, if I'm correct."

"Y-yes, sir." Melissa responds, wondering how on earth he could know that. "I have the drive you requested, uh, Mr Holmes."

The man nods his head slightly, hands the file wordlessly over to Tyler and waves his hand. Tyler takes the file, stands and moves through a second door. Mr Holmes moves to stand in front of Melissa, fixing her with a gaze that gives nothing away.

"You know my name."

"Just your last name, sir."

"That's more than most."

Melissa looks back, meeting his gaze. "It seems you want it that way, sir, and I don't know you're first name, as much as I tried to find it out."

Mr Holmes nods.

"Two years."

"Sorry?"

"You have been working in your position for two years. Or just under."

Melissa feels cold. First he knew her name, now he knows how long she has been employed, seemingly from thin air. She glances slightly to the side before holding out the drive. "I should go."

He steps forward takes the drive before smiling. "Oh, I think we have gone past that." He turns on his heel, walking back through the open door behind him. "Miss Cartwright, if you would join me."

It didn't once occur to Melissa not to follow, not to just walk out of that office and to leave as if she had never come here. Instead, she slowly walked inside; glancing at the walls before her eyes came to rest on the desk that Mr Holmes had just sat behind. He gestured to one of the two chairs in front of it.

"Please, sit."

She moved forward, sitting lightly on the edge of the chair, letting her bag drop down to rest beside her.

Mr Holmes leans forward, hands clasped in front of him. "You're the head of the transport technology team. Tell me, how did you discover my name? I doubt you have clearance for most of the files."

Melissa took a deep breath. "It was the job transfer. The drive that you wanted. We got it in yesterday, except, it didn't look like a normal corrupted drive. Then the request came through for it to be transferred and to stop the data-recovery." She glances away before looking back at Mr Holmes. "It was the stop work request that made me pay attention to it. That never appears on the paperwork. Normally." She pauses and he nods at her to continue. Then the authorisation signature as MH. It's not one of the ones we normally see. Steven mentioned something about department 67 and Susanne told me the drive corrupted after an error message when Mr –"

He coughs slightly and Melissa stops midsentence.

"I'm aware of the nature of the issue Mr Huntington had with the drive."

"Oh right. Well. Susanne mentioned the delegate's dinner last night. There's a picture of you there. With a caption." Melissa pauses, recalling what she read earlier. "Mr Holmes and Sir Leonard greet the ambassador from Greece, Mr Ioannou. Page 3 of the Telegraph, sir."

"Why?"

Melissa shrugs. "Curiosity."

Mr Holmes stands holds out his hand. "Phone." He sees the look of confusion on Melissa's face and stops her before she can say anything. "Your phone, please. No need to worry."

Melissa reaches into her bag and hands Mr Holmes her mobile. Melissa tries to work out what is happening as he flips open her phone and scrolls through it. She doesn't know how to ask what is going on and isn't too sure she would like the answer if she does. She folds her hands into her lap and waits.

Mr Holmes, evidently happy with what he finds, hands back her phone before walking around the desk and leaning against it looking down at her. Melissa doesn't speak, waiting for him to dictate the next move.

He shifts slightly before speaking. "I am in need of staff. Staff who can work hard, ask the right questions and do what they are told while still using their initiative. I need people who can work in a small team, who get along with people easily and don't mind long hours."

Melissa can barely believe what she is hearing. "Sir?"

"There is a number in your phone. I want you to go home, check your email and give it a call once you have decided."

"Decided what?"

Mr Holmes just smiled. "You're bright, I'm sure you can work that one out."

Later as she was sitting at home, reading through an email that sounded too good to be true, Melissa wondered what was going to happen. A five-figure salary, paid leave, accommodation costs and transport allowance. A blackberry phone that she was required to keep on her at all times. For about five minutes after reading the email, Melissa considered not taking the position. Until she looked around and thought this might be her chance.

She picked up her phone a dialled, waiting.

"Hello Miss Cartwright."

"You know it's creepy when you do that."

She was met by a chuckle on the end of the line. "I take it by this phone call you agree."

"Yes."

"Good, good. Any questions?"

"Who are you?"

A pause before he spoke. "I am Mycroft Holmes and I occupy a minor position in the British government."

"By which you mean you are the government."

"You catch on quick. I will see you at 9am sharp, tomorrow morning."

"Yes, sir."

"One more thing. In interest of protecting the safety of you and your immediate family, you can no-longer be known as Melissa Cartwright."

Melissa takes a deep breath, hesitating as she replies, "Protection?"

"Yes. It has been known that people try to get to me through my staff."

"And this works? Changing my name?"

"It helps."

"Right. Okay. That might take a bit of getting used to."

"You will adapt. I look forward to working with you, Anthea Jones."