"They'll be back in China by tomorrow," John said. They'd just arrived back at 221B after being angrily dismissed by Dimmock. Morgan flopped down into John's armchair, glad to be sitting somewhere comfortable and resting after the night's events.

"No, they won't leave without what they came for," Sherlock said as he took off his coat, scarf and gloves. "We need to find their hideout." He navigated his way through the crates still taking up most of the living room and stood before their information wall. "A rendezvous. Somewhere in this message it must tell us."

Sarah, who'd been awkwardly standing behind John, unsure what to do, suddenly spoke up. "Well, I think perhaps I should leave you to it."

John said, "No, you don't have to go. Stay," at the same time Sherlock said, "Yes, it'd be better if you left now."

"He's kidding," John said. "Please stay if you'd like."

Sarah hesitated as she glanced from John to Sherlock. "Is it just me or is anyone else starving?"

"Oh God," Sherlock mumbled.

"Yes!" John said with a bit too much enthusiasm. "Why don't you have a seat." He gestured to the sofa half hidden behind stacks of crates. "And I'll find us something to eat."

The moment John and Sarah had turned their backs, Morgan picked up a cushion and threw it at her father. As it hit his back and tumbled to the floor, Sherlock spun around. 'Be nice!' she mouthed to him. Sherlock frowned before returning his gaze to the wall.

While John searched the kitchen for anything that could pass as food and Sarah perched uncomfortably on the sofa, Morgan quickly excused herself and ducked upstairs. She pulled off her coat and gloves, dumping them onto her bed, before pulling out her gun and placing it in the drawer. As she walked back downstairs she could see John was still desperately looking for something for Sarah to eat. She decided to help him out so instead of going back into the living room she quickly snuck down and knocked on Mrs Hudson's door.

After explaining what was going on, Mrs Hudson promised she'd be up in a few minutes with some drinks and food. Walking back into the living room, Morgan found Sarah was now standing in the middle of the room looking at the wall plastered with photos and papers. Sherlock had taken a seat at the table with his back to Sarah, the message clear. Obviously uncomfortable with the silence in the room, Sarah tried making conversation as soon Morgan entered.

"Ah, so Morgan, what grade are you in?" she asked.

"I graduated three years ago," Morgan said as she took a seat at the table next to her father.

"Oh wow. So what do you do?"

"I work with dad," she answered.

"Oh." She glanced at the wall and the photo's it held. "So this is what you and your father, and John, do? You solve puzzles for a living."

Sherlock, who'd been shuffling through the papers that littered the table, paused. "Consulting detective," he said testily.

"Oh," was all Sarah said.

Morgan had to bite the inside of her lip to keep from laughing as she saw her father's expression when Sarah walked over and glanced down at the pictures on the table.

"What are these squiggles?" she asked as she pointed to the photo John had taken that was still in the evidence bag.

"They're numbers," Sherlock answered, the annoyance at her presence clear in his voice. "An ancient Chinese dialect."

"Oh right. Well, of course I should've known that."

Morgan heard footsteps on the stairs and looked over to see Mrs Hudson entering the kitchen. In her hands was a tray containing a jug of punch and a bowl of snacks. Even in the other room Morgan could see the relief on John's face.

Morgan's attention was caught by Sarah as she picked up the evidence bag containing the photo of the cipher. Sherlock looked at her, the irritation and anger at her actions evident on his face. Morgan reached over to briefly place her hand on his arm. She sent him a silent warning with her eyes.

"So these numbers, it's a cipher?" Sarah asked.

"Exactly," he answered bluntly.

"And each pair of numbers is a word?"

Sherlock's hands paused. "How did you know that?" he asked as he met her gaze.

"Well two words have already been translated," she said. "Here." She placed the photo down in front of Sherlock, pointing to the two words written on it.

"Look at this," Sherlock said as he grabbed the evidence bag and stood.

Morgan got up and stood beside her father, glancing down at the photo in his hand. True to Sarah's words, there were two words written over the first few symbols; Nine Mill.

Sherlock ripped open the evidence bag and pulled out the photo. "Soo Lin at the museum, she started to translate the code for us. We didn't see it."

John rushed in from the kitchen to Sherlock's side. He frowned as he read the words on the photo. "Nine mill," he said. "Does that mean millions?"

"Nine million quid," Sherlock muttered. "For what?" He spun on his heel and picked up his scarf and coat. "We need to know the end of this sentence."

"Where are you going?" Morgan asked.

"To the museum, to the restoration room. We must have been staring right at it."

"At what?" John asked.

"The book, John. The book." There was anger in his voice but it wasn't directed at anyone but himself. He was angry at himself for not seeing the book, for not figuring it out sooner. "The key to cracking the cipher. Soo Lin used it to do this. Whilst we were running around the gallery, she started to translate the code. It must be on her desk." One second later he'd disappeared out the door and down the stairs.

"Ah…aren't you going with him?" John asked.

"No, I'm going to sit this one out," Morgan said. She normally would have gone with her father but, truth be told, she was still sore from that evenings events. The more she moved around, the more it felt like she was going to throw up so all she wanted to do was lie on the couch and read her book. Unfortunately that meant she was crashing John's date but she didn't feel too guilty since she could tell that Sarah was going to call John for a second date, despite everything that had happened tonight.

"Oh…okay."

She could see a little bit of disappointment in Sarah's eyes at still not having John alone. Morgan decided to quickly disappear behind the crates half shielding the sofa and let them pretend that they were alone. As she picked up her book and flipped it open, she heard the pair move into the kitchen.

She focused on her book, barely hearing John and Sarah's voices floating out from the kitchen. So she was surprised when she suddenly heard John's voice next to her. "We're ordering some takeaway. Would you like something?"

"Thanks but I'm fine." Her stomach still hadn't settled so she didn't want to risk eating anything yet.

John went back into the kitchen and she could hear him phoning the Chinese takeaway around the corner. Morgan's mind turned to her father. Depending on traffic he might have arrived at the museum already. Had he deciphered the message already? She was desperate to know but didn't want to call him and interrupt him. And her phone was on the other side of the room.

Just as she went back to her book there was a knock on the door. She frowned. That was way too quick for the takeaway to be made and delivered, especially on a Friday night. Maybe it was someone else?

"I'll get it," John called out to Morgan as he made his way downstairs.

Morgan flipped back to her page. Just as she thought about going upstairs and giving John and Sarah a bit more privacy, she heard footsteps on the stairs. She paused, listening closely. They were too light to be John's footsteps. Carefully and silently she placed her book down on the floor. Just as she peered over the top of the crates she heard Sarah let out a yell which was quickly muffled. The sounds of a quiet scuffle followed before the footsteps went back downstairs, only they were heavier this time.

Ducking back behind the crates, Morgan's mind raced. Who was in their flat? Why had they just kidnapped Sarah? They already taken John no doubt. Were they coming back for her? That thought made her heart start racing even faster than it already was. She looked around the room. There were very little places to hide and they could be back any second. She wished she hadn't taken her coat off upstairs and taken out her gun. She couldn't risk trying to make it upstairs before they came back.

Moving quickly but quietly, she lowered herself to her stomach and rolled under the sofa. She let out a hiss of pain as her hand was cut on a piece of glass. She silently cursed herself for being so lazy when it came to cleaning. She'd neglected vacuuming under the sofa and as a result it was dirty and disgusting. She held her palm against her side to stem the blood. As she heard the footsteps again on the stairs, fear flooded through her. Although impossible, it felt like her heart was beating so fast and so loudly that they would be able to hear it. In between the stacks of crates, a pair of black shoes came into her view. They stopped in front of the sofa and a moment later their hand picked up her book from the floor. Morgan bit her lip and closed her eyes.

Seconds ticked by. Silence filled the flat.

A hand wrapped itself around one of her ankles and yanked her out from beneath the sofa. Her hands desperately crawled at the ground, trying to grip onto something but it was useless. She opened her mouth to scream but before any noise came out something heavy smashed against the side of her head.

The blow had instantly cut her head. Warm blood flowed down the side of her face. It hadn't been enough to knock her unconscious but it came close. Her vision was blurred and darkening at the edges. Her head was throbbing in pain. Her limbs didn't seem to want to obey her. She tried to swing her arm, to punch, to claw, but they remained limply at her side.

A pair of hands reached under her. With a hand under each armpit they began dragging her towards the door. Her head flopped back against their chest and she could see through blurred vision that the man kidnapping her was Chinese. The Black Lotus. Her head was still aching and her mind was fuzzy. Why were they doing this? Had they come too close?

She started trying to take in deep, even breaths to clear her head. The chill in the night air instantly hit her as she was lugged outside. It helped to focus her mind. Her feet dragged along the pavement. Apparently these people didn't care about being seen dragging bodies out of a flat into a waiting van.

As she saw the awaiting van, she realised this would be her best chance to escape. She hated leaving John and Sarah but their best chance would be if she could get away and raise the alarm. She took a deep breath before leaning her head forward. As she shot it back, smashing it against the face of her kidnapper, more pain exploded in her head. The unexpectedness of the attack cause the man to stumble. Both of them fell. Somehow she managed to get to her feet before him. She took off running down the street. She heard the man get to his feet and begin to chase her but his companion yelled at him in Cantonese, "Don't bother! We got Holmes!"

She kept running but the man was no longer chasing her. Her heart was pumping, adrenalin pushing her to keep going. She was gasping, from running and from the pain. She bumped into a few people, who looked alarmed at her bloodied appearance, but she didn't stop. She'd only run two blocks before she ran head-first into someone. She would have fallen backwards had their hands not shot out a grasped her arms.

"Morgan?"

She looked up and almost cried with relief. "Dad!" She dived into his arm, holding him close as she hugged him. Part of her mind wondered why he was out here on the street when he should have been at the museum but the other part didn't care. He was here with her.

"What happened?" he asked with concern as he pulled away and looked down at her. His eyes scanned her face, taking in the large gash on her temple and the fear in her eyes.

"They…they took them…and they tried to take me but I got away," Morgan said in between heavy breaths. Her head was pounding in pain and she was fighting the urge to throw up.

"Who?" Sherlock asked.

"The Black Lotus. They kidnapped John and Sarah. They tried to kidnap me but I managed to get away. I just started running." She used the back of her hand to wipe away some blood that was running into her eye. "How are we going to find them?"

"I know where the Black Lotus are hiding," Sherlock said as he pulled out the photo of the cipher. As he showed it to her she could his handwriting over the symbols. He'd cracked the cipher. "It was the London A-Z book. The symbols at the bank and library were a threat: Deadman. Their hide out is in the Black tramway."

"Let's go then," Morgan said immediately. She felt guilty over leaving John and Sarah behind. She wanted to race over there and rescue them before anything terrible could happen.

"No, you need to go to the hospital," Sherlock said sternly. "I'll go to the tramway."

"What? No, I'm coming with you!"

Sherlock lifted his hand and gently inspected the cut on the side of her head. "This is going to need stitches."

She quickly waved his hand away and wiped as much blood from her face as she could, hiding the pain it caused. "I'm fine. I'm coming with you. You can say no and leave without me but I know where you're going so I'll just grab the next taxi that passes by and be right behind you."

Sherlock studied his daughter's face and saw that she wasn't bluffing. He shook his head. She could be as stubborn as a mule sometimes. "Fine. But you're staying outside the tramway and going straight to the hospital after."

"Fine," she quickly said.

Although she could see her father wasn't happy with her decision, he hailed down a cab and let her enter. He hoped in after her and told the driver where to go. As they took off, Morgan closed her eyes for a moment, glad to be finally sitting down. The adrenaline from the attack was wearing off and pain and fear was replacing it. Her head felt like it was about to explode and blood was still flowing from the cut. The taxi driver kept shooting her glances but luckily he didn't say anything.

She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and looked over to see Sherlock unwrapping his scarf from his neck. He quickly folded it up and gently pressed it to her temple "Here," he said as he applied some pressure. The flow of blood instantly slowed.

"Thank you," she mumbled as she replaced his hand on the scarf and applied pressure. In the silence of the cab her mind began running through everything that had just happened. They'd kidnapped John and Sarah and all she'd done was hide. She should have done more. She should have fought more. She'd always thought of herself as a tough girl but tonight had shown her that wasn't quite true. She'd felt helpless, especially without her gun. What is something happened to John? "Oh," she suddenly said as she remembered what the men had said when she'd run away. She looked over to Sherlock to see he'd been staring at her wounds, the concern clear in his eyes. "The people who….when I was running away I heard them say 'We got Holmes'. They think John is you dad."

Sherlock frowned as he processed this new information. "They must have been watching us for a long time," he mused aloud. There was a spark in his eyes and a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "They killed Van Coon and Lukis but still couldn't find the pin so they watched us, knowing we'd eventually find it."

"Pin?" Morgan asked as she tried to think through the pain and focus on what he'd said.

"Yes, the pin," Sherlock said impatiently. He looked over and his voice softened. "That's what was stolen. A jade hair pin worth 9 million."

"Wow. So...so they've been following us, waiting for us to find the pin, and somehow think John is you?"

"Seems that way," he replied.

"We have to save him," Morgan said with determination. She still felt guilty over leaving him and Sarah behind. She should have done more to save them, instead of just running away. If anything happened to him...she would never be able to forgive herself. The guilt would forever weigh her down.

For a moment her pain was forgotten, replaced with relief as the taxi pulled over. Sherlock hastily pulled some money out to pay the driver while Morgan was already out of the car and making her way towards the tramway tunnel. As she approached the mouth of the tunnel she could just see the faint flicking of fire further in the tunnel. That had to be them.

Sherlock's hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling her up short. "Stay out here and call Dimmock," he said as he pulled out his phone, handing it over to her.

Morgan wanted to argue but the longer they both stood out there, the longer John was in there with them. She grabbed his phone and dialled Dimmock's number while watching Sherlock's figure retreating into the darkness of the tunnel. She prayed they had gotten there in time.

"What?" Dimmock snapped as he answered the phone, no doubt recognising the number.

"You need to get to the Black tramway," Morgan said, holding the phone with one hand and the scarf to her temple with her other.

"What?" he repeated.

Morgan sighed. The scarf was slowly becoming soaked as blood continued to flow from her cut and the pain was only intensifying with each passing minute which meant she really didn't have the patience to deal with Dimmock. "The Black tramway," she repeated more slowly. "That's where the Black Lotus is. Send some men now!" She hung up, hoping Dimmock's men would get there soon.