Chapter 62: Mind Games (prt. 2)

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Sorry, we're skipping the deducing part because I don't think I could've done too much there! Onto the heartbreaking part because I'm so mean.

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As we walk down the corridor into another room, I can feel my trepidation begin to rise once more; in the room there is a coffin, the lid off and in the corner of the room. It's small, small enough to fit a woman of my size, maybe a bit taller. "One more minute on the phone." Eurus's voice comes over the speakers, and once again the familiar voice of the frightened little girl comes over the speakers, her voice trembling.

"Frightened. I'm really frightened."

"It's okay, don't worry. I don't have very long with you, so I just need you to tell me what you can see outside the plane." Sherlock says, closing his eyes and pushing all other thoughts out of his mind. Soldiers today. Soldiers die for their country. Which means to hell with what happens to us. 

"Just the sea. I can see the sea. No ships. I can see lights in the distance."

"Is it a city?"

"I think so." Sherlock turns and looks at John who is standing beside him at the side of the coffin. I speak quietly as I try to chime in, swallowing my nerves.

"She's about to fly over a city in a pilotless plane. We'll have to talk her through it." I notice Mycroft standing still in the corner, looking down at the floor; what was he doing? What was wrong with him?

"Through what?" John asks, looking up at the ceiling as the girl speaks again.

"Hello? Are you still there?"

"Still here. Just give us a minute." Sherlock speaks gently, looking towards me for help, wanting me to finish my idea.

"Getting the plane away from any mainland, any populated areas. It has to crash in the sea. She's the one who's going to crash it. And if we fail, she crashes into a city." I say lightly, scared of the answer that was going to be; this little girl was most likely going to die and it was going to be our faults. "I'm afraid we're going to have to give her hope."

Sherlock gives me a quick nod and look up towards the ceiling, projecting his voice so the little girl can hear. "Is there really no-one there that can help you? Have you really, really checked?" 

"Everyone's asleep. Will you help me? I'm scared. I'm really scared." Suddenly, there's a click on the other line and the line goes dead, the four of us sighing in frustration.

"Coffin." Eurus begins, leaning towards the camera and staring deeply at us through the screen. "Problem: someone is about to die. It will be – as I understand it – a tragedy." Sherlock walks around the the head of the coffin, rubbing the thumb of his gun over his brow as he turns to look at it. "So many days not lived, so many words unsaid. Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. Whose coffin, Sherlock? Please, start your deductions. I will apply some context in a moment." Eurus gives more a sarcastic smile, a shiver of fear running up my spine, as Sherlock begins to deduce the coffin.

"Well, allowing for the entirely pointless courtesy of headroom, I'd say this coffin is intended for someone of about five foot four. Makes it more likely to be a woman."

"Not a child?" John asks, scanning the coffin as he walks around it.

"A child's coffin would be more expensive. This is in the lower price range, although still best available in that bracket. This is a practical and informed choice. Balance of probability suggests that this is for an unmarried woman distant from her close relatives. That much is suggested by the economy of choice." While he's speaking, I slowly begin to walk across the room as my legs begin to regain feeling. I found the coffin lid across the room, picking it up and turning it to look at the top side. I draw in a deep breath of fear, Sherlock still concentrating on the coffin itself.

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