They took a taxi back to the museum, where Andy was still located. The security guard recognized them from a few hours before, and although he kept shooting them all (especially the pink-haired teen) confused glances, he walked them back down to the archives, where Andy was.

The storage was still unlocked and ajar, while Andy was still working. Despite having been preparing to go home almost four hours ago, he was standing on a foot stool by the Grecian statue, wearing latex gloves and using a very gentle mix of soap and deionized water to try to sponge the paint off of her body.

"Two men who traveled back from China were murdered, and their killer left them messages in Hangzhou numerals." Sherlock summarized the situation when Andy scowled and said that, just like earlier, he still didn't know Soo Lin's whereabouts. He was much crankier now that he'd been trying, with limited success, to clean spray paint off of a very expensive work of art.

Emili threw out her glass bottle from her Starbucks Frappuccino. The loud crashing sound as it hit the bottom echoed in the plastic can. She winced at the noise and tried to look apologetic when all three men paused and looked at her.

Andy shook his head and went back to pressing a soaked sponge to the bosom of the statue. John had somehow gotten roped into holding up the bucket of frothy, soapy water so Andy didn't have to get off the stool to re-soak the sponge. "Soo Lin Yao's in danger," he more gently appealed. "Now, that cipher – it was just the same pattern as the others. He means to kill her, as well."

Andy dropped the sponge into the pail. Some water splashed out and hit John. The veteran grimaced and put it down, wiping some foamy bubbles off of his jumper.

"Look," Andy tersely told them, his back rigid and shoulders riddled with tension. "I've tried everywhere. Friends, colleagues. I don't know where she's gone. I mean, she could be a million miles away!"

"Actually," Emili helpfully intervened, blinking, "The Earth's less than thirty thousand miles all the way around. So no, actually, the only way she could be that far away is if she's an astronaut."

Sherlock huffed and turned his head away, frustrated. He looked to the right while John just sighed and gave up trying to get the little soap spot out of his top. After his temperamental little display, Sherlock's expression seemed to sharpen in interest.

"What is it?" Emili asked him, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen. She peered into the open storage.

There was a glass display with red velvet on both of the two shelves, mounted over a pedestal. The teapots Andy mentioned earlier, about Soo Lin's tourist demonstrations, were shining through the glass neatly. The old clay was cracked in one of the cups on the bottom shelf. They looked pretty unremarkable.

In typical Sherlockian fashion, the detective didn't ask, but commanded: "Tell me more about those teapots."

"Sherlock," John sighed a tired protest.

Andy was startled into answering, uncrossing his defensive arms. "The – the pots were her obsession," he bemusedly responded, putting his hands on his thighs for just a second before he remembered his gloves were wet. He made an aggravated face and stripped them off. "Um, they need urgent work. If they dry out, then the clay can start to crumble. Apparently, you have to just keep making tea in them."

"Earlier, only one of those pots was shining." Sherlock's gaze was like a raptor's. His eyes were locked on like a big hawk who'd just spotted a rabbit darting out of its burrow. "Now there are two."

"I guess someone got thirsty." Emili shifted and looked over her shoulder, knowing now that they weren't entirely alone.


Once they had figured out that Soo Lin was hiding in the museum and coming out to take care of her antiquities, it wasn't hard to find her. Emili just hoped that the assassin wasn't as quick as they were to figure it out.

Sherlock, John, and Emili went to the room where the security cameras were kept so that they could watch for Soo Lin. In the meantime, Emili reviewed footage curiously. When the guard asked for ID, Sherlock showed him one of Lestrade's stolen badges, and the guard started to indulge her requests swiftly.

What she learned was that the killer knew the place pretty well. She suspected he cased it, or looked at blueprints, or both. He stayed out of sight of the cameras on the first floor, and there were no security feeds in the basement because the only people allowed to go down there were staff. Although Emili double-checked her timestamps, there wasn't a single image caught of the assassin. It disappointed her, shocked and impressed John, and was old news to Sherlock, who had already predicted that there wouldn't be.

Less than an hour after they had entered the museum, the live feed on the room with the pots caught the shadowy movement of someone entering the area. John rubbed his eyes and leaned forward to squint. Because of the poor lighting, Emili couldn't tell much about the person except for that they were light-skinned, long-haired, and had breasts. She seemed kind of slim.

They all watched while she kept her face turned away from the security camera's view and unlocked the display cabinet where her teapots were kept. She took two out carefully, cradling them in her arms, then gently locked the glass door again and left to return to wherever she'd crept out of to tend to her hobby. By the time John and Emili saw her leave, they turned to ask Sherlock if they should follow and saw that he had already done that without notifying them. A few minutes later, they got a text to come back down to the basement.

The basement had long corridors and large, rectangular-shaped rooms. Most of them were used for storage of furniture, displays, and pieces that the museum didn't have on the current rotation, but there were a couple of them that weren't as full. Emili hadn't paid attention to them before because they hadn't seemed important.

Soo Lin had the lights off and was making tea with the pots, using a percolator that she had plugged into an outlet on the floor and a bottle of filtered water. She was standing patiently in front of a collapsible white table that she'd set up in the center of the room. Although they were reasonably sure she was innocent, it was also eerie to find her in that way.

Sherlock crept in. John and Emili shared a look and decided to wait in case the woman was scared enough to try to make a run for it. For all her caution, Soo Lin was so focused on what she was doing with the antiquities that she didn't notice Sherlock sneaking in, walking slowly so his shoes didn't make any sound and wearing dark clothing that helped him to blend in. For a six-foot-tall guy, Emili thought, he's pretty quiet.

He was only quiet until he was less than a foot away. From where they were standing, they heard his voice faintly, but all Emili could hear of the words were that his voice went up to intone a question. Soo Lin, startled, jumped away from him and let go of the pot. Before it crashed, Sherlock caught it a couple of feet from the floor. She stood paralyzed while he looked up at her. Emili slipped in through the half-open door and John followed. The teenager gave it a push to close it so that they could all have a private talk, though she stayed close to John because the veteran helped her to feel safer.

"This is centuries old," Sherlock reminded Soo Lin, his voice soft and low. "You don't want to break that." He stood up again and put the pot carefully on the table beside the other one she had rescued. "Hello."

"Scaring her like that was just mean," Emili scolded him, crossing her arms.

Soo Lin looked past Sherlock and to the two others. The pink-haired girl knew that she wasn't super intimidating, but John, with his arms crossed, just might be. He looked cuddly and normal most of the time, but when he scowled and got angry, he could be frightening. In the limited light of an electric lamp, Emili looked at the odd white lighting illuminating the Chinese woman's cheeks and casting a shadow of her own nose across one side of her face. Soo Lin slumped her shoulders and put her hands behind her back.


Soo Lin was calm and very cooperative. She told John where to get chairs, but not one of the three investigators took her up on the offer. The storage room was a lot less creepy once Emili turned on the overhead light, which spread fluorescent light to every corner of the room, which was about twice the size of the living room of her apartment.

Sherlock briefly explained why they were there. He was so brief that John elaborated so Soo Lin had a bit more to go off of. The Chinese frowned. "You saw the cipher?" She checked. All three of them nodded gravely. She thinned her lips and bowed her head in acceptance. "Then you know he is coming for me."

"You've been clever to avoid him so far." Sherlock stated, watching Soo Lin for her reactions and to catch nuances in her speech. Compliments and praise seemed unlike him, but maybe he was just stating a fact, Emili reasoned. Lukis and Van Coon had both been dead the same day the assassin warned them. Soo Lin was hiding and still surviving.

She didn't acknowledge it like it was praise, anyway. She just looked down at the clay antiquities and gestured to them delicately with her small, soft hands. "I had to finish… to finish this work." She specified after a second. Emili almost flinched as she wondered how many things Soo Lin wasn't planning on getting to finish. "It's only a matter of time. I know he will find me."

"Who is he?" Emili caught the way that Soo Lin said it like she knew it as a fact, but Sherlock was the one who had asked. "Have you met him before?" The way she seemed familiar with the skills made it seem like she might.

The restorer reluctantly nodded. She lowered her eyes to the table so she didn't have to look up at them while she told her story. "When I was a girl, living back in China." Well, that confirms our theory that the killer is from China, and supports the theory that they're dying for what they smuggled. Emili wasn't a big crime expert, but she knew that in some countries, especially in large, overpopulated ones like China, the difficulty of surviving and the ease of exploiting children led to a lot being taught to run with gangs and criminals. Soo Lin swallowed hard. "I recognize his… signature."

"The lotus flower?" Emili blurted curiously. She only realized after she had spoken that Soo Lin was probably referring to the spray paint, and that she hadn't seen the crime scenes and wouldn't know an origami flower had been found at each one. Soo Lin looked straight at her and appeared discomfited. "He keeps leaving a paper lotus flower."

Soo Lin nodded. "It is their calling card. All of them know to make it."

Soo Lin put a hand down on the table and picked up her leg. She pulled her dressy flat off her left foot and tugged off the sock, then sat down on the stool and lifted her foot to show a tattoo on the underside of her heel. It was a simple lotus flower inside a thin circle, all in black ink.

"You know this mark?" She asked Sherlock, looking up and seeing his grim recognition.

"Yes. It's the mark of the Tong."

"Hmm?" John looked between them, as lost as Emili.

"Ancient crime syndicate based in China," Sherlock offered shortly, but didn't want to take the time to explain much more than that.

Soo Lin put her sock and shoe back on. She didn't seem to like her own tattoo and wanted to cover it as soon as possible. "Zhi Zhu leaves the flower so there is no doubt why they died. Who killed them. Fear is a powerful tool in China. Every foot soldier bears the mark. Everyone who hauls for them must get this tattoo."

Zhi Zhu. Emili preferred it when the assassin had been nameless. "Zhi Zhu?" She repeated, feeling worriedly like she was going to summon him just by calling for him out loud. Giving the killer a name made him feel more like a person. It should've been a comfort, since humans make mistakes and are fallible, but to Em, it just was a reminder that the murderer was really real.

"The Spider." Sherlock translated. Soo Lin uncomfortably nodded and slipped her shoe back on, standing up from the stool again.

John was a good listener and was paying close attention to everything behind said. After Soo Lin was done speaking, he seemed to realize something he had heard. "Hauls?" He repeated suspiciously, uncrossing his arms and looking at the pretty, slim woman in surprise. Emili thought she saw a little bit of judgment, too. "You mean you were a smuggler?"

"John," the teenager said quietly, looking across to the veteran and meeting his eyes. John's criticism was palpable, but he stopped and listened. "A lot of recruits joined because they had nowhere else to go." Emili understood why people did things out of desperation. The fact that Soo Lin had run away from the Tong was enough to demonstrate that she knew it had been a bad profession, and considering her life was now being threatened by her past connections, they had much bigger issues to think about than whether or not Soo Lin had been a smuggler years ago.

John's expression softened. Soo Lin imploringly put another few cents in. "I was fifteen. My parents were dead." The doctor turned his head back to her, and Emili did the same so that they could actively listen. "I had no livelihood," she continued, fidgeting with her hands in front of her abdomen. "No way of surviving day to day, except to work for the bosses." Emili felt awful listening to the story. She was lucky the Holmeses had taken her after her family died. She couldn't imagine being so alone, and so scared, and being taken advantage of by a huge, homicidal crime gang.

Sherlock had very few social graces, but Emili was proud to report that he had become slightly more aware of when to use his nice voice. And by that, she was just referring to the slightly softer tone that seemed less factual and much less confrontational.

"Who are they?" He asked, canting his head.

"They are called the Black Lotus." Soo Lin let her eyes drop down briefly towards her feet. That did explain several questions. "By the time I was sixteen, I was taking thousands of pounds' worth of drugs across the border into Hong Kong." She looked upset and guilty, even though no one here was criticizing her actions. John felt more sympathy than anything now. "But I managed to leave that life behind me. I came to England. They gave me a job here. Everything was good; a new life."

"Then he came looking for you," Emili's brother prompted, continuing the story and wrecking the happy ending.

Soo Lin nodded at Sherlock. "Yes," she confirmed needlessly. She shook her head and had to fix her hair, pushing smooth black strands back behind her ears. "I had hoped after five years, maybe they would have forgotten me, but they never really let you leave." Emili tried to guess how she would feel if she were allowed to escape and granted the freedom of her own independent life, only to then learn that the safety was just an illusion. She wasn't sure she'd have been brave enough to stay and finish her work, as Soo Lin had done, instead of running as far as she could. "In a small community like ours, they are never very far away. He came to me in my flat. He asked me to help him to track down something that was stolen."

They all perked up. Finding the stolen item was going to be key to solving why the whole mess had started, to save the life of the person who now had it, and possibly to even find and catch Zhi Zhu before he could continue to hurt people.

"Don't suppose you've any idea what it was?" John questioned hopefully.

Soo Lin apologetically shook her head. "I refused to help," she explained, frowning.

On one hand, Emili was shocked that she had told the Tong no and was still alive days later. That didn't seem like the kind of thing they would take very lightly. Then again, maybe Zhi Zhu had needed permission from the Black Lotus to go in for a kill so he didn't draw too much attention while they were outside of China. That would explain why he had gone back to Soo Lin's apartment when Emili and Sherlock were inside.

It didn't, though, explain the photograph Emili remembered seeing, where it looked like someone had been reminiscing on Soo Lin. Unless... she said she knows him… She wondered how likely it was that she would come to know an assassin well without having been on the hit list before and figured that, with an organization that did so well to cover up its tracks, it wasn't very likely.

Suddenly, the smudged marks on the photograph of the two Chinese children made more sense to Emili. "He's your brother, isn't he?" She guessed softly. She hadn't gotten a good look at the assassin, what with the black scarf covering his face, but there hadn't been anything to suggest he wasn't a Chinese man with black hair, and she was pretty sure that yes, he had brown eyes.

Soo Lin blinked quickly, her eyes wet and her expression drawn sorrowfully. Sherlock gave Emili a quick look and she almost asked if he felt cheated that she solved their relationship before he did.

John's eyes widened. "Hang on," he put a hand up. "Your brother is out to kill you?"

"John!" Emili exclaimed, shocked by the tactlessness from the usually sensitive man.

He looked apologetic once he had realized what he'd said, but Soo Lin was already nodding and continuing to elaborate on the circumstances. "Two orphans… we had no choice." She rubbed a finger underneath her eye, wiping away dampness. "We could work for the Black Lotus, or we could starve on the streets like beggars."

The student thought for a moment. Given the choice, what would she do? Despite what Soo Lin said, there had been a choice there, but it was a nasty one, and Emili was pretty sure she'd do what she had to for her life. Then again, smuggling was one thing. Becoming a damn ninja assassin was another.

"My brother has become their puppet," the restorer bitterly accused, looking down and shaking her head. "In the power of the one they call Shan – the Black Lotus general. I turned my brother away… he said I had betrayed him." Emili thought that if her brother actually had love for her to betray, then he should've appreciated that she wanted to stay as far away from a dangerous crime boss as possible. "The next day, I came to work, and the cipher was waiting."

Sherlock took two folded-up Polaroid photographs out of the inside pocket of his Belstaff coat and flattened them out. He passed them to Soo Lin, who took them compliantly but with uncertainty. "Can you decipher these?" He asked her intently.

The woman held them beside each other and looked at each. "These are numbers," she informed, sliding the photograph from the library underneath the one from Tower 42. "Here, the line across the man's eyes – it's the Chinese number one."

Sherlock nodded, a touch impatient, and reached over to tap his finger beside the edge of the photo. "Yes, and this one is fifteen. But what's the code?"

"All the smugglers know it," Soo Lin replied, seeming surprised that Sherlock didn't already know this, too. "It's based upon a book."

A book? Or any book? Emili was just about to ask when the lights in the room went out. The darkness was so sudden that for several seconds, she couldn't even see faint silhouettes of her companions. The hallway lights were off, too, and because they were in the basement, without artificial lighting, there was absolutely no way to see.

Emili tensed up. The lights weren't all supposed to go off like that. They were hiding out in a museum basement in the middle of the night, talking to the intended victim of a hit. She couldn't afford to believe in coincidences – if she did, she might have been caught at the train station.

"He's here…" Soo Lin whispered. The terror in her voice was unmistakable, but no one moved, not even the girl with the most to fear. "Zhi Zhu."

After a few seconds of what felt like being blind, emergency lights came on. They were spread out more in the ceiling and didn't have as much brightness behind them as the normal fixtures. Emili guessed that the power line had been cut, and that triggered the system. They could all see well enough to make out each other's figures and see the silhouettes in the room, but Soo Lin's face was very shadowed and if Emili didn't recognize how John held himself and hadn't known already that he was standing over there, she wouldn't have been able to be sure it was him.

Soo Lin dropped the Polaroids onto the table and took a step away from it and the clay pots on top. "He has found me," she said, having gone pale after the lights cut.

It was almost comical how Emili heard the rush of wind whipping up Sherlock's coat as he ran. He was off like a Greyhound, sprinting for the door. She startled anyway when he ran behind her. The darkness made her jumpy, and she remembered the terror she'd felt at the train station and didn't want to feel that way again.

"Sh-" John started to swear but caught himself. "Sherlock," he hissed. "Sherlock, wait!" Sherlock was already close to the door and Emili wasn't sure he could hear. John didn't want to raise his voice too far in case it alerted the killer after Soo Lin. John shook his head angrily and his heavy footsteps stormed to Emili. A hand took her elbow. "Come here."

Emili followed after John, walking a little staggeringly because she couldn't see where she was going very well. John shooed Soo Lin with his other hand, acting as their shepherd and herding both women to a small janitorial closet in the wall. Emili guessed what was going to happen and looked around. The room was open – there was no real place to hide except for the closet, and thanks to how dim the emergency lighting was, even that would take a second look to see. It was their best option – except Emili didn't want to hide.

John pulled on the doorknob harder than he had to, half expecting it to be locked. It wasn't, and when it sprang open, he commanded for them to get inside. Soo Lin obeyed right away. In spite of her resignation, she didn't want to die, and although Emili hated to be mean, Soo Lin didn't seem like someone who would stand up and argue with someone like John. The Chinese turned around and tucked herself into the corner of the small closet, trying to take up as little space as possible.

"Get in!" John urged more emphatically, pulling on Emili's arm.

"I can't!" She whispered back urgently, trying to pull her arm out of his grip. Sherlock had gone off out of earshot. Who knew what was happening? Zhi Zhu had almost choked him to death once before, and although her brother was generally capable of holding his own, he wasn't a martial artist. "John, this guy's already almost killed Sherlock before!"

John didn't even have the patience to be exasperated. He tightened his fingers on her arm, refusing to let her get free. "Emili, I cannot let you run around a museum in the middle of the night with a killer who could be anywhere!" The force of his hushed voice made her bite her lip – she hated when John was angry, especially at her. "Hide with Soo Lin," he gentled. "She needs someone, too. I'll make sure your brother doesn't get himself killed."

She hesitated. She hated the idea of cowering in a closet while her housemates risked their lives trying to protect her and Soo Lin, like they were helpless damsels. At the same time, she had to admit that John had seen combat and was more formidable than herself. The appeal to Soo Lin was what had really gotten her. Emili couldn't begin to imagine how angry or scared or defeated she would feel in the other woman's place.

Although the museum was big, the gunfire that echoed through was incredibly loud and made Emili flinch. John swore under his breath, and Em's mind was made up. There wasn't time to waste arguing. She pushed into the closet with Soo Lin, who tried to make more room. It was a very small little space, and she could feel Soo Lin's body heat and the softness of her grey sweater against her arm.

"Bolt the door after me," John ordered, pushing the closet door shut. The latch clicked when it closed. Soo Lin reached partway in front of the student to do as John had said, and an additional click rang in Emili's ears. John's footsteps hurried away in a sprint.

There was silence for less than a minute before a flurry of gunshots were fired, sounding like they were coming from overhead. She tried not to picture the black-clad monster shooting at them through the floor, instead rationalizing that Sherlock had gone upstairs and was drawing Soo Lin's brother away from them.

Em swallowed hard. The odds that Zhi Zhu would follow Sherlock were pretty high. He'd seen them at his sister's apartment. Someone from the Tong had been with Emili in the train yard. Maybe following Sherlock – or the inhabitants of 221 Baker Street, in general – was what led them here, to the museum, to find Soo Lin.

The thought made her feel queasy. They knew that they were being watched, and they led the assassin right to his target. "I'm sorry," she whispered. She doubted anyone could hear them from upstairs, but the fear coursing through her veins objected to a louder volume. "Maybe if we had been more careful not to be followed…"

"He would have found me, no matter what. It is not your fault," Soo Lin promised. Her voice came a little breathy, speaking between fast inhales, not nearly as calm as she wanted to seem. Though she was sincere, Emily didn't think that excused the danger they might've had a hand in creating.

The idea that she was still trying to be calm and accepting blew Emili's mind. "So that's it, then?" She asked, shaking her head incredulously. "You're just gonna let him kill you? Get away with all this?" Being siblings did not give him the right to kill her.

Soo Lin shook her head. "It's not right," she promised that she knew. She had to fall silent and hug herself during another volley of gunfire. "But I cannot fight him. For all that Zhi Zhu is, he is still my brother." She sounded disappointed. Maybe it was because her brother was a monster. Emili hoped that was what it was. Or maybe she was just upset that she didn't know how to fight him. Either was a good choice. "I could not hurt him, even if I knew how."

Hiding in a closet and praying isn't the right thing to do, either. Emili knew that. John didn't have his firearm, so the odds that the men could actually fight Zhi Zhu and incapacitate him were slim. She also knew that she couldn't fight Zhi Zhu and win, especially not on her own. That meant the other options were to stay still and hope for the best, or to actively try to remove themselves from the danger.

She looked up but didn't see any vents. They were in the basement – there were no windows to crawl out of. She couldn't remember any emergency exits. With how quickly the assassin moved, there wasn't time to run around looking for one. They needed a full plan before they moved into the open. With Zhi Zhu upstairs, they could get out of the basement, but since he had a gun, they might not be able to make it all the way out to the doors.

"Damn," she muttered. Escape wasn't looking very likely. "We can't just stay in this flimsy closet!" There were slots in the door between thin, slanted panels, like blinds built into the door. They could see out, but anyone could see in, too, and it wasn't a super sturdy door. Wood certainly wouldn't stop a bullet.

There was nowhere else to hide in a museum, though. Floors were all set up openly for displays. The only other places were the security room – again, wooden door – and the storage rooms.

The storage rooms! She suddenly remembered all the lockers. They were big enough to fit a person or two, were made of metal, didn't have slots to see through, and they required passcodes to open. Emili remembered seeing Andy's and recalled the four-digit number clearly.

"New plan," she hissed, turning to Soo Lin quickly. "We're leaving this closet, we're going to-"

Her voice was the only thing she heard, and she heard herself so well that she had to stop and reconsider what she was doing. That was wrong. It wasn't supposed to be so quiet. Where were the sounds of a fight upstairs?

"Do you hear that?" She dropped her voice so low that she barely even heard it herself.

Soo Lin looked to the closet door with trepidation. "What?"

"The gunfire's stopped," she replied, barely breathing out the words. "He's not chasing Sherlock anymore." He must've realized that the men were serving as distractions, keeping him from his goal. Maybe he would look on the second floor first, but maybe he'd come to the basement. Either way, it was too late to try to make a run for the lockers – they'd be slowed down by having to put in codes.

If she was right, and Zhi Zhu was on the prowl, then he would know the museum well since he'd already been here. If he was allowed to find Soo Lin, then it was game over – possibly for Emili, too, and she didn't much like that prospective future. Though it terrified her to think of starting a cat and mouse game, if they stayed hidden, then they were sitting ducks. She needed to be proactive.

And she needed to lead him away from Soo Lin again. Except if he'd left Sherlock and John (Emili didn't even want to consider that they'd been shot), then maybe she was right about needing permission from the general to take extra victims. It was possible that she could lure him away and he wouldn't kill her. If she could just distract for long enough for Soo Lin to get to the lockers, out of reach…

It was a long shot, but she was painfully aware of the time ticking away, seconds trickling through her fingers like sand. "New plan," she elbowed Soo Lin. "Give me your jacket." Emili was very obviously not Soo Lin. She was too short, her hair was too long, her hair was too pink, and she was too not-Chinese. If she could cover up, though, then maybe Zhi Zhu wouldn't be able to tell the difference as long as she kept her back to him and kept moving. Besides, wearing Soo Lin's clothes would only make her look more like his target.

She swallowed before she psyched herself out. Soo Lin put her hands to the hem of her sweater but didn't pull up on it right away. "What for?" She asked, confused.

"I'm going to pretend to be you and run away," she explained hurriedly. "Your sweater will cover up my hair and the hood will obscure my face. He'll try to chase me because he wants to hurt you. While I'm leading him away, you go to the storage room and use your security access to hide in a locker."

Soo Lin didn't hesitate. Even the slightest comfort of having some sort of plan spurred her into moving. Emili took a couple jabs to her sides while Soo Lin struggled to get the sweater off over her head, then passed it to Emili. Emili pulled it on over herself hurriedly and smoothed it down, trying not to mind how it was a little too long and a little too tight. She let the hood cover up her head and intentionally left her hair caught and tucked in behind her back.

"Stay hidden," Emili muttered softly. "Don't make a sound."

She twisted the bolt on the inside and almost cringed and backed out at how loud the noise seemed. If Zhi Zhu was in the basement, he could've heard that. And if he heard, he'll find us. Staying put now was as good as death, so she had no choice but to continue with her last-minute plan.

She inched the door open and slipped out, looking around nervously. Once she was out from the closet, she let the door slowly swing closed again, and it didn't even latch entirely shut. Emili scanned the storage room nervously while trying to keep her head down so that the dim lights couldn't show her face clearly, the hoodie aiding in hiding her face. She couldn't see anyone.

In her scan, her eyes settled momentarily on the Polaroids. Her hands clenched in frustration. They had been so close to learning the code – only one or two sentences away. Maybe Soo Lin could still help – maybe she could still tell them what it was, if she had the photographs to look at. She sent a sidelong glance at the door which, of the two in the room, was closer to the stairwell. Collecting the photographs versus running was a hard choice to make. She really wanted to finish this, but she also wanted to make sure her plan worked and she wasn't risking her life for nothing.

Emili slowly took a step to her left, towards the door nearer the stairs, and looked back at the photographs in frustration where they laid innocently on the collapsible plastic table. Sherlock could print out more. In the corner of her eye, she saw movement which made her heart nearly stop.

Her eyes snapped to the other door. The shadowy figure was only just standing inside the room. He was quiet as a mouse. If the emergency lights were just a little more useless, she wouldn't have been able to see him at all. Emili took a moment to thank herself for moving away from that door instead of towards the center of the room, and another that she didn't move back towards the closet and give up Soo Lin's hiding place.

Her eyes locked with Zhi Zhu's. There was the slightest reflection of light shining off of his. Emili's legs almost froze and she did her best to remind herself that if she didn't run, she would most likely die. She had to lure Zhi Zhu out of the basement so Soo Lin could get to the lockers, and once they were in better lighting upstairs, not even the sweater would be enough to hide that Emili was not the one he was looking for.

The dark, soulless eyes were what really spurred Emili to run. The panic that washed over her gave her speed and bravery, and she put her back to the assassin and started to bolt as fast as her legs could carry her for the door on her side of the room. Zhi Zhu started as soon as she did. He was quiet, yes, but no one was totally silent, and she could hear his footfalls behind her.

She estimated she had twenty feet of a lead on him, but the Chinese man was taller and more agile. That lead wouldn't last for very long. She was already panting when she raced through the doorway, emerging into the hallway, which had slightly better lighting. This just made her move even faster, begging her body to keep up with her brain.

There was an elevator to the basement, but she didn't have time to wait for it. She slammed herself sideways into the heavy door to the stairwell and huffed, soreness radiating through her arm. Emili saw a bright red box mounted on the wall and grabbed the fire alarm, pulling down the lever on her way up the stairs. Immediately, lights began to flash red and a loud siren blared. The sprinkler system hissed in protest as it turned on, and then they started leaking water down onto the floor. Swiftly, that trickle became a full shower. Emili hoped if there was anyone else in the building – staff or security – they would evacuate.

She only needed to go up one floor, but Zhi Zhu gained on her in the stairwell. With the water raining down and making the metal banister more slippery, Emili was almost afraid to keep going at her speed but was more afraid of the man behind her. At the top, she almost slipped, but caught herself by stumbling and throwing herself at the door to exit. She gave it a shove to help it close faster, then spun and kept running as fast as she could.

I can see the doors! Having an escape so close gave her a burst of hope in her chest. He wouldn't hurt her out in the open after being so careful to keep the other murders isolated. She was so close. Her lungs burned and her feet were sore and her legs were begging for a break because she'd gone so hard and was still pushing. Twenty feet – fifteen –

The weight of a sudden tackle, plus the slickness of water beginning to collect on the floor, made her lose her balance. Emili fell facedown with a hundred-some pounds of angry, homicidal killer on her back and had her arms yanked up over her head. She shrieked in pain and tried to move, and a knee dug into the back of her thigh.

She bit her lip hard and tried to stay quiet. Zhi Zhu had her. The longer he's here, the more time Soo Lin has, she reminded herself, but it wasn't very comforting.

Fingers closed around her shoulder and felt like he was trying to squeeze her clavicle so hard it broke. He moved his knee, stood up with his feet on both sides of her legs, and rolled her over onto her back. Emili turned her head to the side, putting her cheek up to him, and squeezed her eyes shut. She didn't want to see.

The assassin yanked her hoodie back and pulled her hair, too. Her eyes watered. And all her blood stayed in her body, because he lowered the pistol he had been about to shoot her in the face with, swearing furiously in Chinese.

He was just mad enough that Emili wasn't certain he wouldn't just shoot her anyway. Her lip trembled as she spoke. "We were trying to lure you out," she babbled quickly, her hands shaking. She didn't even know if he understood her. "We thought – if you thought she was here-"

She supposed that she was pretty effective. Even if he didn't speak English, he was able to see and she didn't need to fake the fear she was feeling. Zhi Zhu straddled her and bent down, moving his face close to hers. He was still wearing a black scarf over his mouth and nose, so all she could see of him were his dark, angry eyes.

She shut hers fearfully. After a few seconds of labored, panicked breathing, another gunshot blasted right in front of her face. Emili felt the heat of the explosion in the chamber and heard the whistle of the bullet whizzing barely an inch above her face, then heard a crack as the bullet embedded itself in the wall several yards away.

After another few seconds of silence (not that it felt silent – her ears were ringing painfully), she opened her eyes anxiously to see what was going on. Zhi Zhu was staring right at her, having been cruelly waiting to make sure she saw. He turned the safety of his pistol back on, leaned back over her while still keeping his knees on both sides of her hips, and swung his arm.

The last thing she saw was his gun being brought towards her head.