Chapter 9: Texts
"I win," Hayden taunted for the third time as she reached her arms above her head to stretch her back, "yo, Sherlock, what information have you gotten?"
"How do you always win?" John questioned, following Hayden as she powered over to Sherlock.
"It's as much a game of strategy as it is a game of luck," Hayden said, grinning up at her friend, "I just didn't want to give away all my secrets.
"So, who do you suppose it was?" John wondered after shaking his head at Hayden.
"Hm?" Sherlock replied absently, ignoring his phone as the text alert went off.
"The woman on the phone, the crying woman," John reiterated.
"Oh," Sherlock said, understanding dawning on him, "she doesn't matter. She's just a hostage, no leads there."
"For God's sake," John groaned, "I wasn't thinking about leads."
"You're not going to be of much use to her then," Sherlock said, turning to look at the screen again after glancing at John.
Hayden rolled her eyes at Sherlock before glancing at the screen that continued to say 'no match'. She watched in silence as John attempted to find Sherlock's moral compass.
"Are- are they trying to trace it? Trace the call?" John wanted to know after his search had come up with nothing.
"The bomber's too smart for that," Sherlock pointed out as his phone buzzed again, "pass me my phone."
"Where is it?" John asked.
"His jacket, John," Hayden informed the man, watching as John glared at Sherlock, "I don't know why you'd expect any differently."
John stalked over to Sherlock and manhandled him as he ripped open his jacket and grabbed the phone from the inside pocket.
"Careful," Sherlock snapped, making both John and Hayden roll their eyes at him.
"Text from your brother," John told Sherlock after reading the notifications.
"Delete it," Sherlock said cooly, not looking away from the screen.
"Delete it?" John asked.
"Missile plans are already out of the country," Sherlock told the doctor.
"Mycroft doesn't seem to think so," John pointed out after reading the messages, "he's texted you eight times. Must be important."
"Then why didn't he cancel his dental appointment?" Sherlock said.
"Because I told him not to," Hayden told the consulting detective, "your brother would not stop complaining about how much it hurt to eat his desserts."
"I do not understand how you can put up with him," Sherlock said, shaking his head.
"It helps when the man is your beneficiary," Hayden grinned, "it also helps that he's at least trying to get me home. Now, if you'll excuse me I've got some business to take care of and a lunch date to meet."