Sherlock's jaw tightens and his hands curl into fists when he sees the text.
"We need to find out where she is," he says, his voice rasping with the considerable effort he is expending to maintain his cool when he is near-vibrating with anger and fear for the one person in the world he loves more than anything. "Then we need to infiltrate." He looks up at Bright. "Can your contacts tell you where she is? Preferably without alerting the compromised party to our involvement?"
***
Joan is unhappily tugging at her coffee-soaked shirt when the door opens and Skerritt enters with a handful of paper towels.
"Here, I got..."
Crunch.
He looks down and takes his foot off of the phone he's just stepped on.
"What the...how..."
"What?" Joan looks over at the destroyed phone and grimaces. "God, I'm sorry. That sucks."
The agent stoops down and collects the destroyed phone. He puts the paper towels on the table. "I'll...be right back."
"Okay. Oh...can you get me a top? This is really uncomfortable."
"Sure...I'll see what I can do..." With that he exits again.
Joan looks around. They took her lockpicks when they took her into custody, but Sherlock trained her well, and she knew how to construct lockpicks from all sorts of things.
She spots a glint of metal shoved under the rubber wall base, and quickly crouches down to dig it out.
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Date: 2021-06-20 02:20 am (UTC)From:"We need to find out where she is," he says, his voice rasping with the considerable effort he is expending to maintain his cool when he is near-vibrating with anger and fear for the one person in the world he loves more than anything. "Then we need to infiltrate." He looks up at Bright. "Can your contacts tell you where she is? Preferably without alerting the compromised party to our involvement?"
***
Joan is unhappily tugging at her coffee-soaked shirt when the door opens and Skerritt enters with a handful of paper towels.
"Here, I got..."
Crunch.
He looks down and takes his foot off of the phone he's just stepped on.
"What the...how..."
"What?" Joan looks over at the destroyed phone and grimaces. "God, I'm sorry. That sucks."
The agent stoops down and collects the destroyed phone. He puts the paper towels on the table. "I'll...be right back."
"Okay. Oh...can you get me a top? This is really uncomfortable."
"Sure...I'll see what I can do..." With that he exits again.
Joan looks around. They took her lockpicks when they took her into custody, but Sherlock trained her well, and she knew how to construct lockpicks from all sorts of things.
She spots a glint of metal shoved under the rubber wall base, and quickly crouches down to dig it out.
A paperclip. It's a start.