"Gregory? Gregory!" The alarm in his voice surprised him, but he decided now was not the time to focus on extraneous things like feelings. He tried to stem some of the blood flow by pulling Gregory up towards him, still keeping his hand on the wound, pushing down as hard as he could until the paramedics swarmed around them.
Mycroft only moved back when Gregory let go of his coat, blue eyes wide as they carried him off to the ambulance. He jerked with surprise when Anthea came by his side, putting his umbrella back in his hands, forcing him into the reality of the moment. He breathed out, centering himself once more, "We'll follow the ambulance - leave SIS and the police to handle the shooter. Make sure to message ahead, have their best surgeon on hand."
"Yes sir, but some of them will have to come with us. The shooter ... he was Tong, sir." Anthea stated simply, as they started towards the large black car.
Mycroft jerked at that, before his lips pressed together, "I see. So this was a set-up. Have the ambassador's son framed for murder, start up a fight between the Chinese government and ours. Letting us both take the attention off of recent Tong activities."
"It seems so sir and ... we believe the assassin was trying to take care of two problems with one stone. We think he stayed to try and take care of you, as well." Anthea said slowly.
Mycroft's step jerked, slightly, as he looked back to the house, and his voice dropped to an icy level. "Oh, how very clever. I shall have to be extra clever, in kind." He paused, "So why take a shot at the technician?" He thought of how dark the house was, how Gregory had commented that everyone else had been cleared out, until Gregory radioed in for the tech. "...Unless in the confusion he thought it was me."
His lips pressed together, and he squeezed the umbrella in his grip, anger rippling through him. "Well then, we shall also add the price of being sloppy onto their bill." He rapped on the glass between the front and the rear of the car, his voice sharp. "Follow the ambulance. Then get the head of MI6 on the phone."
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Mycroft only moved back when Gregory let go of his coat, blue eyes wide as they carried him off to the ambulance. He jerked with surprise when Anthea came by his side, putting his umbrella back in his hands, forcing him into the reality of the moment. He breathed out, centering himself once more, "We'll follow the ambulance - leave SIS and the police to handle the shooter. Make sure to message ahead, have their best surgeon on hand."
"Yes sir, but some of them will have to come with us. The shooter ... he was Tong, sir." Anthea stated simply, as they started towards the large black car.
Mycroft jerked at that, before his lips pressed together, "I see. So this was a set-up. Have the ambassador's son framed for murder, start up a fight between the Chinese government and ours. Letting us both take the attention off of recent Tong activities."
"It seems so sir and ... we believe the assassin was trying to take care of two problems with one stone. We think he stayed to try and take care of you, as well." Anthea said slowly.
Mycroft's step jerked, slightly, as he looked back to the house, and his voice dropped to an icy level. "Oh, how very clever. I shall have to be extra clever, in kind." He paused, "So why take a shot at the technician?" He thought of how dark the house was, how Gregory had commented that everyone else had been cleared out, until Gregory radioed in for the tech. "...Unless in the confusion he thought it was me."
His lips pressed together, and he squeezed the umbrella in his grip, anger rippling through him. "Well then, we shall also add the price of being sloppy onto their bill." He rapped on the glass between the front and the rear of the car, his voice sharp. "Follow the ambulance. Then get the head of MI6 on the phone."