John, tucked against the wall just out of sight, felt a rush of adrenaline that calmed him just as much as it set him on edge. He didn't know if Sherlock even had a plan, but he was willing to run into the situation full speed ahead. Some part of the mysterious man had earned the doctor's trust. The doctor's sense of adventure was being filled, and who knew how long it would be until this happened again.
The cleaning and maintenance crew made it's way inside as the flight attendants began gathering their own belongings. With all heads down and eyes busy Sherlock had no problem escorting John out of the corner and up to the cockpit door with him. Right before entering Sherlock pushed the gun into John's hands and mouthed the words, "cover me".
John's hands wrapped around the cool firearm and there was a small realization of how much trouble he could be getting himself into if this didn't work. He held it steady, however, and covered the man in front for reasons even he didn't fully understand.
"Job well done Andrew, I have to say, I'm quite impressed"
"I'm not too thrilled to be making this stop, but weather can't be stopped"
"Oh, you've misunderstood me Andrew. I'm not impressed by your piloting, but rather the amount of time you've eluded the government"
The man furrowed his brow but there was no change in his eyes, "I'm not sure I understand William."
"Oh, I think you do," Sherlock stated smugly as he pulled a few photograph from his pocket. He casually flipped through them as he continued talking, "We've known about your work in the terrorist network moving money around for quite some time. It's very easy to move around the world when it's in your job description. It might have been genius if only you hadn't been so stupid. You've gotten lazy Andrew," Sherlock got right up in his face, "but the problems was that there was no hard proof until I discovered your system for using passenger luggage..."
The pilot's face contorted in anger and fear and he reached back for his weapon. Before his gun was fully drawn, however, the pilot felt the cold pressure of a pistol on his own temple and he froze. John was using everything fiber of his being to hold back and not blow the man's brains out. The army doctor has a very short fuze, and this man life was not safe in his hands. The littlest thing could set him off at this point. This man was one of them - one of the bad guys - and he needed to be eliminated. The seconds of silence felt stretched as each person in the room realized what was happening. Heirshfield's rage melted away into pure fear, and Sherlock raised his brow in surprise while opening his mouth saying nothing. John's face did not change.
At that very moment the atmosphere flipped and they found themselves in a room that seemed more dull and bleak; Mycroft entered the room.
"John please put that gun away before someone gets hurt," he sighed. Surprised at the sudden change in the playing field, the Captain did as he was told. The look of confusion on his face was shared with Mr. Heirshfield, and a disgruntled Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"Always so impatient Sherlock; your accomplice almost got carried away." There were a few disapproving tuts and a look around the cabin. "So where exactly did you find the cash, brother?"
"Here is one of them," Sherlock hauled out a olive green duffle with the initials J.H.W tied on the side. He unzipped the case set aside a few tightly folded shirts and removed several large stacks of cash. "There is sure to be more in the rest of the passenger luggage." He handed the evidence to the older brother and whisked out of the room, "Come along John."
Sherlock walked quickly down the ramp towards the terminal as John rushed to catch up behind him. The younger man seemed to be unfazed by everything that had just happened back in the plane, but the same was not true for the Captain.
"Sherlock what the hell! You just pulled thousands of dollars out of my suitcase and you haven't even slowed down. I would like some sort of explanation for what just happened." John's voice had gotten louder as he became more exasperated, and a few glances were thrown his way from around the terminal.
The 'attendant' replied in a more quiet tone, "What is there to explain? The man was smuggling money - your suitcase happened to be used - I caught him in the act and now Mycroft will handle the rest." He hadn't even stopped walking to address the doctor.
There was a silent pause in the conversation which John ended by suggesting that they eat dinner before finding how to make the rest of their way home. Sherlock agreed to this, but didn't seem overwhelmingly keen on eating anything himself. The doctor sat down to a large meal and a strong cup of coffee, but Sherlock seemed satisfied with just a cup of tea.
After many questions from John and a few semi relevant answers from Sherlock, they were able to put the Andrew Heirshfield's case in the past. They quickly moved on, however, to what they should do about their own situations. Sherlock was, begrudgingly, in the country along with his brother and small taskforce, and was assigned to fly back with them. This meant that he was spending the night there in Istanbul. After hearing Sherlock's travel plans, John began to contemplate staying back for the night as well. The airline and airport opened up their on-location hotel to the passengers of flight 211 in an effort to ease their discomfort. John told Sherlock of this plan and began to make his way to a customer service desk and reserve himself and room when Sherlock got up and stopped him.
"John do you have any idea how small and crowded that room will be? I can assure you that you would be much more comfortable elsewhere. My brother has several suites already paid for tonight, and if you don't mind sharing a room then you are very welcome to come along."
John, who was quite exhausted at this point in the day, saw very clearly that Sherlock's option was much more appealing, and agreed to go along with the Holmes brothers.