4.
It was early the next morning and John was irritated and exhausted. He had tried to wake Jim up, but for that he might as well have told a log to do the same thing.
He had left Jim a note stating he would be right back. On their mad rush yesterday, John was relatively sure he had seen a cafe near where they were. His eyes had not failed him; it wasn't a far walk at all, perhaps five minutes. He returned with some coffee and breakfast. Jim was still sound asleep.
They couldn't keep doing this. John wasn't exactly wealthy. Buying food all the time would put a dent in the wallet. He opened one of the cups and finally, the other man blinked and looked around.
"Coffee," Jim grunted, grabbing the cup from John.
"Yes, coffee, you berk," John grumbled, glowering. "Breakfast too."
"It's daylight." Jim looked confusedly out the window and at the clock before looking at John. "I thought you said we were going to take watches."
"You didn't want to wake up," John growled, glaring at Jim. "Now I'm going to get a few hours of sleep. Wake me in four hours. Earlier if something comes up."
Jim looked at the breakfast and back at John, "Your food will be cold."
A shrug, "I've had worse." With that, the doctor turned to the mattress on the floor and managed to fall into a light doze.
For a few moments, Jim Moriarty didn't really know what to think. Breakfast and coffee without being told to? He hadn't ever had that. Not like his mum had been the most demonstrative person of parental affection, and his father had run off the moment he learned about the pregnancy.
But when life gives you lemons, make lemonade! Or when life makes you brilliant and surrounded by idiots, make sure you know how to react well. Jim had observed the environment he had grown up in well, had seen how more people were scared of the criminals to report them to the cops. And had seen how the more successful people tended to never be around when things happened.
Be the puppet-master, never the puppet.
So why did breakfast matter? Just a small matter, he supposed, but it felt nice, having something without having had to do it himself. Though he wouldn't have picked a breakfast sandwich, but it wasn't as if he could really protest, knowing that there weren't many options around for breakfast.
He hadn't had an actual breakfast besides toast and coffee in ages, though. Running a criminal syndicate kept one rather busy, especially without any other distractions. If the doctor hadn't been involved in all of this... if those imbeciles had tried to get him at home, he would have left, just like he had at John's flat. Then he would have called Sebastian Moran. The man enjoyed his job at keeping order, Jim knew that. He would revel in this.
And then the drug trafficking issue in Columbia would have probably fallen apart without that support and that would not be a fun issue to deal with. But well, make lemonade! Jim would have been alive and thus able to fix the issue eventually.
Except now it might not have to come to that. He looked at the sleeping doctor. John Watson, in his irritation, had been right. His track record of keeping Jim alive was better than most of the people that Jim had paid for that job.
He would have to pay the doctor back for his services. Perhaps the overall checks of the guards that had attempted this coup d'etat would do for payment when this was finished. Yes. That would do the job quite nicely. Although that could just be a sign-on bonus...
Having someone that knew how to react under pressure and unexpectedly was a good thing. Jim finished his sandwich, thinking about this for a few seconds before turning his thoughts away from the sleeping doctor to their situation. These imbeciles... Jim chuckled as he went through his phone information. As if he wouldn't have their information on hand.
As if he wouldn't know who had betrayed him and react. He took the notepad from the hotel room and began to write. His handwriting was neat and tidy, almost more like calligraphy than normal writing. He jotted quickly, his mind moving faster than his hands and it made the man irritated that he didn't have a computer.
Addresses, names, associates, friends, family... Jim allowed the doctor to sleep as he planned and thought the best way to make those fools regret their actions. Getting weapons and the like wouldn't be difficult, it was just thinking what was the best message to send out to the rest of the dolts that might get ideas that was.
He continued to write until John woke up. The doctor ate his cold breakfast before quickly getting as ready for the day as he could. He looked over at the various notes littering the bed and back at Jim. "Been busy then?"
"Yes. When you're ready we can go. We have a lot to get done." Jim stretched, reminding John a bit of a cat.
"Like what?"
Jim gave him a look, "Are all people this dull? Goodness. We have to acquire supplies. Then we have to find these people." He waved a piece of paper. "They shouldn't be hard. Then we take them out. The others will try to scatter, but people are idiots. They'll go to where they feel safest. It really shouldn't take more than three days if we hurry."
John tried to ignore the sinking feeling that he was just a hit man right now. He mentally thought of Afghanistan, thought of the things he had to do during a time of war, during a time of kill or be killed. These people weren't after him due to culture or beliefs or anything. It was just sheer stupidity, them thinking something that wasn't the case. But Jim was right: attempting to reason just would not work. And John knew it was better to strike first, to catch them off guard.
But that didn't mean he had to like it.
