It had been twenty four hours since she had followed her instructions and passed the information on, yet Sally couldn't help wondering if her actions were too little, too late.
Sitting on her settee, hugging a mug of hot chocolate she went over in her mind the conversation, and the instructions she had been given when this all started...
"You have to be sure that she gets this information."
"How will I know when…?"
"It will be obvious. As soon they make their move, you need to contact her and make sure you pass the names on. She will know what to do with them."
"And afterwards?"
"Afterwards we play a waiting game…."
Well, the waiting game had well and truly started, and with churning stomach Sally pinned her hopes on her contacts knowing their game, and her own abilities to keep below the radar and come out of this unscathed.
xXx
In the dark south London street Sherlock and John stood playing their own waiting game, listening to the sounds of movement within the house.
Footsteps were heard descending the stairs, and John moved closer to his companion until their arms were touching. It was a casual, seemingly unconscious move, but as the door finally opened it allowed him to feel the ripple of shock that accompanied Sherlock's harsh, indrawn breath.