SHERLOCK I, II, III & IV • #wattys2016

tag, you're it

Sherlock walked briskly over to the bench parked outside of the doors. He took out a cigarette, lit it, and stuck it in his mouth. As he puffed, he pulled out his phone and clicked on an app he had invented specifically to break down computer codes through different networks. Indeed, it was risky, but in case he was to be discovered to have violated computer databases, he set the app so that when people tried to track back to the original source, all they’ll see are his initials. When the app had loaded, Sherlock selected, “join network” and entered the hospital’s phone number.

In entering the phone number, he accessed every phone call entered and dialed. He didn’t need the phone history, though, he did peek at John’s records and saw that fifteen calls were made to the flat. Sherlock flipped through various screens, agreed to certain buttons, and attached other codes until he was hooked up to the hospital network through the phone wire. It was as if he was another computer in the office. As for the password to the system, that was easy. Sherlock took out John’s phone (that he had cleverly confiscated when he stood behind him earlier) and plugged it into his phone using a portable USB cord.

When the phones were hooked up, he used John’s phone as an extra hard drive and battery support. Using his phone, he scanned the hospital network until he was able to go back to the history date of when the passcode to the desktop had been created. Smirking, Sherlock memorized the number and then cleared both phones. He tucked them both in his pocket and tossed his cigarette in the nearby trashcan. He stood up and casually walked back inside.

John stood up from the chair and went up to Sherlock, his eyes searching for an answer. Sherlock’s lip twitched in a small smile. “Good night, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” the girl said pleasantly.

“Come along, John.” Sherlock strolled out of the office and the two of them headed for the curb. “I think I can find the people who hacked in the hospital computer, as well as open this file Mycroft had sent me. We’re a step closer, John.”

“I set an appointment,” John said gravely. “Next week I’ll be going in for pre-operation. And then, week after that, I’ll be admitted.”

“Brilliant. Hopefully you’ll be recovered in time to help me.”

“Is that you’re way of saying, ‘good luck, hope the surgery is successful?’”

Sherlock looked over at John in wonderment. “Is that what you want me to say? Of course you’ll be fine. I just don’t want the process to dawdle.”

“I’m sure you’ll find plenty of things to do during the time, as long as you look after Elise.”

A loud groan tumbled out of Sherlock’s mouth as they stopped at the corner of the sidewalk. “Are you hungry?”

“We’ve eaten.”

“I said,” Sherlock repeated as he showed John his phone’s screen, “are you hungry?”

John took it as another cue that there was business to be discussed. He looked at the bright white screen and read in bold font, Tag, you’re it. “How did you get that?”

“The file I couldn’t open from Mycroft just opened. Almost as if it was timed, or, someone else unlocked it after I got your files from the hospital.”

“You think you’re playing in their hands? Should you return the files?”

Sherlock looked back at the hospital regretfully, “I don’t know. I need some information on the hackers, though. A phone number, at least, anything I can track them with. I know they’re in London from the emails they’re sending. Or they have a rat doing their work and they’re actually somewhere else. I’m not sure yet.”

“So, was breaking into the hospital’s files useless then?” John asked, slightly miffed.

“No, not really. Unless they clear their evidence.”

“Are we against murderous hackers now?”

Sherlock smirked. “Sounds like it.”

The two hopped into a cab and headed to a small Mediterranean restaurant that opened at six o’clock. As they sat in the backseat, each claiming a window, John said quietly, “Why would they hide my medical files?”

“They’re delaying your treatment, I suppose.”

“Are you a better hacker than them?” John’s voice sounded desperate.

“Hacking takes memorization and makes it into a logical base built on numbers and symbols. Experience is a large thing that’ll make a ‘hacker’ better than another, but everything these people access to hack, so can I. It’s not limited; there are many ways to get into a good source. But, there are also strong security walls people can get their hands on that’ll make entering certain networks or programs more difficult. However, if I can identify the strongholds, I can break the code and get through. All of this is built on codes and security walls, but there’s always a code that can open an entire gateway.”

“And you can get through?”

“Well, I haven’t tried yet. But I’m sure I can.”

“Are you ever afraid, Sherlock?”

“Like you? Are you afraid of death?”

John slowly shook his head. “No, not anymore. I’ve kind of reached an age where it doesn’t matter as much, or, it doesn’t frighten me. Being in the war taught me to expect death.”

“What are you afraid of, John?” Sherlock looked over at John and waited.

“Well, it’s already happened.”

Sherlock bowed his head. The sadness in John’s voice built his rage towards the killers even bigger. It urged him to seek them out and not to give up until he’d done so. He knew finding the killers wouldn’t bring back Alana, but it would tilt the scale of justice back where it belonged. “Is Lestrade on the case?”

“Yeah, he is,” John replied. “He has the suspects, of course. But he’s having a hard time tracking them. So, I’m sure he’ll be delighted to know you’re on to them.”

The cab stopped in front of the restaurant, letting the partners in crime out.  As always, Sherlock made his dramatic entrance and John paid the cabbie.