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The Minds Intent.
A crossover between Criminal intent and criminal minds.
This is set after series 3 in criminal minds and after series 7 of criminal intent. I haven’t seen any of the following series as I am in England and they haven’t been shown here yet. So, I apologise for any inconsistencies and I am really hoping that no one is seriously harmed in the explosion. I also apologise if anyone is offended by my depiction of a white supremacist. I do not agree with any of the views expressed by Simon Luster. Oh, and if anyone gets the impression that I don’t like Logan and Wheeler, it’s because I don’t. Goren and Eames are so much better!
The following story is fictional and does not depict any actual person or event.
In New York City’s war on crime, the worst criminal offenders are pursued by the detectives of the major case squad. These are their stories.
As men, we are all equal in the presence of death. Pubillius Syrus.
THE STATION. 11:30 AM. TUESDAY.
Robert Goren and his partner, Alex Eames, were seated in their Captain’s office. They were not happy.
“You’re calling in the feds on this?” Eames exclaimed.
“We can crack this one!” Goren added passionately. “Please, just give us a few more days.”
“It’s out of my hands. The mayor has really been putting the pressure on me and I have to do something.” The captain replied.
“Just hold off calling them. Just for a few days!” Eames begged.
“I know there’s a pattern here, I can almost smell it.” Goren said, gesturing emphatically.
“I knew you’d feel like this. That’s why I didn’t tell you until it was already sorted. They should be nearly here by now.” He smiled. “I sent Logan and Wheeler to pick them up from the airport.”
They’d been working the case for almost 3 weeks. 12 dead. They just couldn’t catch a break. It didn’t make sense, none of it did. Goren and Eames headed out to their adjoining desks. Alex slumped dejectedly down into her chair.
“Well, I guess that’s it.” She sighed. Goren slammed his chair, hard, into the desk. “Bobby!” Alex was shocked.
“I’m... I’m sorry. I just... I can’t believe he’s bringing in the feds. We can do this. How many cases have we solved? How many lives have we saved?”
“Hey, you do know it’s nothing personal right? You don’t really believe the Captain doubts us?”
“No. No, I know he’s getting pressure from above, but, come on Alex! We both know we can break this case!”
“Yeah. But what are you gonna do? It’s politics.” She shrugged.
THE B.A.U TEAM IN TWO SUVS (ON CONFERENCE CALL) FOLLOWING LOGAN AND WHEELER TO THE STATION. 11:30 AM. TUESDAY.
“So,” Rossi asked, holding up his copy of the case file. “Thoughts?”
“12 dead; all tortured.” Hotch responded.
“A sadist?” Morgan suggested. “Trying to exercise control.”
“Victimology is odd.” Emily threw in.
“3 as yet unidentified, mixture of races, genders, ages. All from different socio-economic backgrounds.” Reid filled in.
“What about the way he poses them?” J.J. asked.
“Humiliation.” Morgan suggested.
“Degradation.” Reid agreed looking at the image of the latest naked corpse. They pulled up to the station behind Logan and Wheeler. The B.A.U breezed through the bullpen area and into the office of the Captain.
“The B.A.U.” Logan introduced with a flourish. Hotch held his hand out to be shook.
“Hi, I’m S.S.A Aaron Hotchner; this is S.S.A David Rossi, special agents Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Dr Spencer Reid and our liaison, Special Agent Jennifer Jareau.” They all had their hands shaken apart from Reid who gave his little wave. The Captain smiled.
“It’s good to have you here, but I have to admit that you are only here because I’ve had pressure from above. I have every confidence in my officers.”
“We would never suggest you didn’t.” Emily replied.
“Logan, Wheeler, go and fetch Goren and Eames.” The Captain ordered. They left. “They’re the investigating officers.”
“Goren?” Reid asked. As the Captain turned to reply, Goren and Eames walked in.
“Sir?” Eames asked. “These are the federal agents you shall be working with.” The Captain said sternly.
“Bobby?” Reid asked, stepping forward so he was no longer behind Morgan.
“Spencer?” Goren asked, clearly surprised. They shook hands, both grinning. “How long has it been?”
“A few years at least. You, you’re the lead on this?” Goren nodded. “Then why are we here? You have as much psychological training as any of us.” Reid frowned.
“Politics.” Bobby answered with one word. Reid sighed.
“Reid?” Hotch questioned.
“Oh, sorry. Detective Goren and I met some years ago.” He stepped back.
“Then why don’t you and Morgan go with Detective Goren to the latest crime-scene? Rossi, you and Emily go and take a look at the bodies. J.J, you and I will look at the suspect pool.” Hotch gave his team marching orders. “Detective, sorry I didn’t catch your name.”
“Alex Eames.” She informed with a smile.
“Why don’t you go with Prentiss and Rossi? You can shed some light on how and where the corpses were found.” He told her. The group split into three and headed off in different directions.
A DUMPSTER IN AN ALLEY. THE 12TH CRIME-SCENE. TUESDAY. 12:45 PM.
Morgan, Reid and Goren crossed the crime scene tape and walked over to the dumpster. The body had been found splayed, naked across the lid of it. It had been positioned with arms spread wide and legs apart. The C.S.I’s were still working the scene, the twelfth body had only been found that morning.
“Well, the message is clear. The victim was disposable.” Morgan said.
“He wanted her found.” Reid added. “She was in plain view of the street, right out in the open.” On the floor was a small piece of material, khaki. There were some matching fibres caught on the corner of the dumpster. Goren noticed them and got a New York CSI called Danny to collect them for evidence.
“So, how do you two know each other?” Morgan asked, looking at the alley floor. The two other men exchanged a look and then Goren inclined his head slightly.
“My mother’s first doctor introduced us.” Reid replied. He left it at that.
“Hey,” Goren said, looking into the dumpster. “Take a look at this.” They went to join him. In the dumpster was all the usual trash one would expect to find, mostly bagged up in several hefty-bags. But, on the surface of the garbage, was an object that obviously didn’t belong. A numbered clip, stained with blood, of the sort found in sheep’s ears. The number upon it was 014. They lifted the clip out carefully. “He numbers his victims?” Goren said looking at it.
“Deindvidualising them.” Morgan nodded. “That makes sense. Especially in relation to what he did to the bodies. And it explains the odd marks on their ears.” Goren explained. They walked together to the mouth of the alley.
“How did he dump the body without anyone noticing?” Reid asked, looking both ways. The street was packed with onlookers and with people rushing back and forth. True, the body had been dumped in the early hours of the morning, but New York is always awake.
“Let’s get back to the station.” Morgan said. He jumped into the driver’s seat of the SUV and Goren and Reid climbed into the back. They left the CSI’s to finish up processing the scene.
“So, how’s your mom?” Goren asked Reid after they’d belted in.
“Okay. She’s actually doing a little better at the moment.” He replied. “How’s yours?”
“She...died. Have you been to visit yours lately or are you still writing daily letters instead?” Goren put some barb into the question.
“I saw her not long ago actually. We’ve got closer over these last couple of years. Ever since this case a year or so ago. We brought her in on it because the Unsub turned out to have been in the same hospital with her. She helped save lives.” Spence replied after a shocked pause. But, by the way Bobby had thrown away the remark about her death; he knew that he wasn’t prepared to talk about it.
“That’s good. We should have kept better in touch.” Goren smiled a little.
“That was my fault. I knew you didn’t like the way I was handling things and I’m kind of glad that you didn’t see me last year. Especially with your brother.” Spencer shook his head. “I really screwed things up. I’m only just getting my head on straight again.”
“What happened?” Bobby tilted his head to the side, his common interrogation pose. Before Spence could answer, if he would have, the SUV pulled up to the kerb.
“Guy’s we’re here.” Morgan called from the front seat. He’d heard a little of the conversation, bur hadn’t wanted to disturb the two friends.
THE CITY MORGUE. STILL TUESDAY. 12:45 PM.
Alex, Emily and Dave walked into the morgue. It was cold and smelled of disinfectant. There were bodies in bags laid out on several tables around the room. The coroner was there standing amongst the dead.
“Do you have all the victims here?” Emily asked as she looked at all the body bags in wonder.
“Yep,” the coroner grinned. “Had ‘em all shipped here from all over the city.” They walked over to the body that had been discovered that morning. The woman within the bag was naked and badly bruised. She had been shaved all over. There was an odd tear to her ear lobe. She was malnourished and her ribs stood out. There were several fresh scars on her body. “This is Leanne White. She was 42 years old. She was missing for three weeks before the body turned up. She was diagnosed earlier this year with Huntingdon’s disorder, a genetic disorder, and was on anti-depressants.” They moved to the next body. It was that of a young man who quite clearly had Down’s syndrome. “This is Jimmy Jenson. He was 17. He went missing 4 weeks ago, was found a week ago.”
“He attended a special school and walked there and back by himself. One day he just never made it home.” Eames filled in. His body had also been shaved and showed evidence of torture.
“There was some overlap in the time they were kept.” Rossi said. Eames nodded.
“He must have somewhere big, isolated.” Prentiss filled in. They looked at each body in turn. All were tortured. All were hairless. There were several people who were unidentifiable; either because the amount of torture had rendered them so or because they’re identities weren’t in the system. Some hadn’t been reported missing.
“Is disability a factor?” Rossi asked as a higher proportion than one would expect had a handicap.
“I don’t know. Although several do have something physically or mentally wrong with them, these five don’t.” Eames told them. “They don’t fit the pattern.”
“These three are black. And these have both been circumcised.” Emily said quietly. “Eugenics?”
“It fits. The removal of hair, the range of victims.” Rossi nodded as he replied.
“Great. So we’re looking for Hitler?” Eames asked sarcastically.
“Let’s meet back with the others at the station.” Rossi suggested and the three made their way back towards the car. Emily pulled out her cell phone.
“Criminals-R-Us. You want it, we got it.” Garcia smiled as she answered.
“Garcia, its Emily. Can you find us all the race and hate related crimes for the past couple of years?”
“For the whole of New York? Sweetie, that list will be five miles long.”
“I know. Focus on crimes against disabled people or the mentally ill.”
“Okay, if that’s what you want, that’s what you shall receive.” She hung up and began immediately typing furiously.
THE STATION. 14:23. STILL TUESDAY.
They all met back up at the station. Hotch and J.J. had been relatively unsuccessful with the suspect list.
“What have you got?” Hotch asked as they all went into the office they’d been given to use.
“We think he’s numbering his victims.” Morgan told them.
“We found this at the scene.” Goren held out the evidence baggie with the numbered ear tag in it.
“Fourteen?” J.J. said staring at the tag. “That means there are at least two more victims, assuming that he numbered them from the beginning.”
“He’s always dumped his victims in the open. Why hide these others?” Emily asked.
“They have a connection to him.” Rossi said. “We find these bodies and we find our killer.”
“Well, the idea of numbering fits in with what we found.” Prentiss informed.
“We think he’s a type of street-cleaner. He is using eugenics. The victims were black, Jewish or had some sort of disability, be it physical or mental.” Rossi filled in.
“We have Garcia looking into white supremacist or hate crimes in the area.” Emily added.
“I’ll put in calls to the other boroughs, try and see if we can find any cases our boy might have got his practise on.” Eames smiled. She walked out to make the call. Reid and Goren got out a map and started putting push-pins into it. They were working out a geographical profile. They were all talking as they worked, straightening out the details of the profile to get ready to present it to the officers. Eames was talking with J.J. and Emily. Then she turned and saw Spence and Bobby, both staring down at the map with almost identical expressions of concentration and each had pins in their hands. Then, as one, they both tilted their heads to one side. She burst out laughing. She just couldn’t help herself. J.J and Emily turned to look and they joined in. The boys were so engrossed in their work that it took a second for them to notice. When they did they both turned, Goren first and then Reid. “I didn’t know you had a little brother, Bobby!” Eames said laughingly to her partner.
“I’m not sure which one of us she’s insulting there, Spence.” Goren said to the younger man.
“I took it as a compliment, Bobby.” Reid replied. Hotch; Rossi and Morgan were sitting at the desk. Morgan’s cell began to ring.
“Talk to me, hot stuff.” He said into it with a grin.
“Sorry, my hunk of deliciousness, but the list I’ve got for you guys is so long that I don’t know if it will be any help to you.” Garcia replied.
“You always help me, Penelope.” He smiled into the phone.
“Awww! You always say the sweetest things.” She grinned whilst she played with one of her little figurines.
“I’m putting you on speaker so be nice.” He warned. He pushed the speaker phone button as he did so.
“Oh, I’ll be nice, my love.” She said in a sultry tone.
“Garcia!” Hotch exclaimed. She winced.
“We have Detective Goren and Eames here with us. Detectives, this is our technical analyst, Penelope Garcia.”
“Hello.” Goren said, grinning.
“Hi.” Eames added, also smiling.
“Sorry about that.” Garcia apologised. “I’m used to chatting to my team like that, but I have been trying to behave in public.”
“That’s alright.” Goren replied.
“Yeah, we don’t mind.” Eames told the tech-kitten. “Good. So, my super-friends, we have a list of racially or otherwise discriminatorily... (Is that a word? I don’t think that’s a word).” “Garcia!” Rossi said, resignedly.
“Right, sorry boss. Anyway crimes motivated by race or other discrimination, I have a list of those. It’s really rather long though.” Garcia told them.
“Can you narrow it down to just repeat offenders?” Eames asked.
“And only people who don’t discriminate about who they discriminate about? So people who don’t just go after black people, Jewish people or disabled people, but offenders who go after all of the above?” Goren added.
“The repeat offenders list is already done, still quite long. I’m emailing it to you J.J.”
“Thanks, Garcia.” J.J. replied.
“S’okay. I’ll work on the second list with only the none bigoted bigots on it.” She began typing and then hit the disconnect button with the end of her fluffy pen.
THE HOTEL. REID’S ROOM. 23:00 TUESDAY...STILL.
The profilers had gotten to the end of their tethers. They had gotten the second list from Garcia, sadly, and rather worryingly, it was still too long to be any real help. Hotch had insisted that they retire to the hotel when they started to make mistakes. They were due back in the police station early the next morning to give the profile. Reid was in his pyjamas, they were blue striped, with a button down top. There was a pocket on the lapel and they were slightly too big for him. On his feet were a pair of carpet slippers, they were dark green checked. He was perched on his bed with a large old-fashioned book open on his lap. His overnight bag was open, but not fully unpacked. There was a knock on the door. Reid looked up and carefully marked the page he was reading with a leather bookmark. He went to answer it and out in the corridor stood Bobby Goren. He had a bottle of scotch in his hand and two glasses. Reid let him in and they sat together at the small table. Bobby poured them both a glass. They sat in companionable silence for a moment, Reid feeling not the least self-conscious about sitting there in his comfy p.j’s whilst Goren sipped his scotch.
“It was cancer.” Goren said eventually.
“I’m sorry.” Reid replied.
“Frank too. He was poisoned.”
“Bobby, I’m sorry. I wish you’d called.”
“And say what? Last time we spoke, I was...cruel. It was unnecessary and I regret it.”
“No, I deserved it. I was too scared to deal with my feelings. I couldn’t face my mother and you were right to disapprove. Especially given the circumstances with your mother. You visited her all the time and I... I wrote letters.”
“You were handling it the only way you knew how and I should have helped, not yelled at you.”
“I needed to be yelled at.”
“What did you mean earlier? When you said you screwed up?” Reid emptied his glass and then poured another.
“Bobby, we’re only just back on speaking terms after the last time I screwed up. This one’s going to be even worse in your eyes.”
“How about I take a guess?” Goren drained his glass too and then he refilled it. “Drugs?”
“The reference to Frank gave it away?”
“Yeah. Spence, for a smart kid, you can be awfully dumb.”
“Go ahead and yell. I know I deserve it. I’m clean now by the way, if you care.”
“What happened? What were you thinking?”
“There was this guy called Tobias.” He explained the details of his kidnapping and subsequent addiction to his old friend. “I was sneaking into bathrooms to get a fix. I just couldn’t handle it. Then New Orleans.”
“I had a drink with an old friend. A lot like this actually. Ethan, I told you about him, the one I was super-competitive with?” He drained another glass. “We sat and chatted and drank. I missed the B.A.U plane on purpose, so I could work out if I could walk away from this stupid job. And he knew. Ethan knew I was an addict within a minute. And if he knew... I couldn’t leave this job. It’s all I’ve ever been working towards, all I’ve ever wanted to do. That night proved to me I couldn’t leave.” Reid sighed, emptying the last of the scotch, filling both their glasses. “I’ve been clean ever since. Although, I have to admit I have had what the literature terms as-.“ (He made the little “finger quotes” in the air. He really was drunk). “-‘Cravings’. Especially after a difficult case. I got my year chip.” He waved wildly at his bedside table, on which the golden coin lay.
“Spencer, you said I should have called. The same goes for you. We had a fight, if I knew you were going through this much, then I would have... I would have helped.”
“How? Anyway, I know how you feel about drugs, and you have every right to feel that way, with your brother. And you were right about my mom. I should have visited her more.” “So, other than being kidnapped, getting addicted to drugs and so on, how are you?” Bobby asked. Spencer smiled wryly. “I’m... I’m okay. I have the team. We look out for each other.”
“Whatever happened to that Gideon you were always telling me about? I honestly thought you were going to get him to adopt you!” Goren laughed.
“He...left. I know how you feel about dead beat dads but, remember, he wasn’t my dad. He was my friend and mentor. He had a hard time. His girlfriend was murdered by the one that got away. Gideon blamed himself. D’you know what? He left me a note. It was addressed to me, just like the one my dad wrote when he left my mom and me. And he just drove off into the sunset. All he left behind was a note, his badge and his gun. He’s never even called since.” They talked well into the early hours, then Goren helped Reid into bed. The boy genius really wasn’t up to drinking in large amounts. Bobby curled up on the chair and fell asleep.
THE STATION BULL-PEN. 09:00 HOURS WEDNESDAY (FINALLY).
Reid walked in with Goren. They’d stopped off at Bobby’s apartment so he could change. Reid had even more pronounced circles beneath his eyes than normal. Morgan came over to them.
“Hotch says we’re ready to give the profile.” He told them. Goren nodded and left to go find Eames. Morgan led Reid to the rest of the team. “So, you want to talk about it?” Morgan asked quietly as they crossed the room.
“What, about Bobby?” Reid was surprised. “He’s just an old friend.”
“An old friend I’ve never heard you mention. He said you hadn’t seen each other in a couple of years.”
“A couple of years? Try four.” Reid took a moment to organise his thoughts. “You know about my mom. Well, when I first had her committed when I was eighteen, I was having real trouble dealing with everything. The doctor, he knew Bobby. You see Bobby’s mom...” Reid paused, unsure of whether to continue or not, “Bobby’s mom is schizophrenic too. My mom’s doctor had worked here in New York for a while and he put us in touch. I was preparing to be a profiler and he was already on the major case squad. We wrote, we phoned; whenever we were having trouble we’d call each other. It was good knowing that there was someone who’d been through the same thing. The first time I worked up the courage to visit my mom, he drove to Vegas and sat outside the hospital in his car. We would occasionally be able to meet up, usually at a halfway point. He took real good care of his mother. He visited all the time. Then he found out I was writing letters and avoiding seeing mine. He was really angry. He thought I’d got over it and I’d let him believe that I saw her more often than I did. We had an incredibly big fight and then he hung up on me. I didn’t want to call him back and get yelled at again. I thought about driving here to see him, but, as you know, I’d never actually been to New York until we got an Unsub here. He never called back. Not even when his mother died. Not even when his brother was murdered.” They had reached the front of the room and the other profilers, so Morgan refrained from commenting, at least for now. Goren had found Eames at her desk and they were making their way forwards to join the B.A.U.
“So, what is it with you and the kid?” Eames asked. “He’s like a little clone of you.”
“His mother is like my mother. A doctor got us in touch. We were really good friends for about four years. But we had a big fall out back in 2004. It was my fault. I yelled at him for not coping. For not dealing with it the same way I was. I hung up and we didn’t speak to each other again until yesterday. I did try and call him the next day after I’d calmed down; you know my temper sometimes gets the better of me. But there was no answer. I figured he was on a case and would call me when he got back. But he never did.” Goren sighed. “And now I find out that he’s gotten himself into some real trouble over these past couple of years. He’s closer to his mom now, which is good, but I wish I’d been there for him.”
“It wasn’t your fault. You were there for him, if he couldn’t swallow his pride enough to call you then that’s his problem.”
Hotch stood up. He had a notice board behind him covered in notes, pictures and the map that Spencer and Bobby had spent so much time on the night before.
“The man we are looking for is likely in his mid 30’s to 40’s. He would be shy in general, but if you spoke to him about the murders he would be loudly supportive of them.” Hotch started.
“We believe he is white, and he probably has a history of hate crimes.” Emily continued.
“He may belong to a subversive group that preaches white supremacy, but in these murders he is working alone.” Rossi told them.
“He has recently had some stresser in his life. He may be recently divorced or the subversive group may have rejected him.” Morgan threw in.
“He probably already has his next victims as he keeps them for several weeks at a time.” Reid added.
“The geographical profile points to this area of the East Village, but it is really too large an area to cover.” J.J told them, pointing to the map. “We think that you should set up a tip hotline.”
“This guy has been real careful, and he’s been real lucky. He dumps the bodies in dumpsters all over town and no one sees him. There’s no way anyone is going to call in.” Logan laughed.
“They want him to call.” Goren informed. “He may appear shy on the outside, but about these crimes, he is arrogant and excited. He won’t be able to stop himself from taunting us.” “Oh.” Logan said non-plussed. Just then Hotch’s phone rang. He went off to one side before answering it.
“Hello?” He asked. “Hayley, I’m in the middle of giving a profile.....is he okay? ......What happened? ....... I’m on my way. No, if he’s hurt......are you sure? ......Call me if he gets worse, or you change your mind. Tell Jack I love him. Bye.” He hung up and went back to stand next to Dave. J.J. was busy explaining how the hotline should be set up and organising a press conference.
“Everything okay?” Rossi asked in an undertone.
“Jack fell down the stairs. He hit his head pretty badly. They’re at the hospital, getting checked out.” Hotch sighed. “She told me not to come. She says he’s fine.”
“If you want to go, I can handle things here.” Rossi offered. “No. No it’s okay. Hayley’s right. By the time I got there, Jack would be fine at home. I’ll go and see them as soon as we get home and she promised to call if there was any change.”
“If you’re sure.” Was Rossi’s response. They soon had the hotline set up and then it was just a waiting game. No calls set off the alarm bells all day. J.J had her press conference running almost constantly though, so it was just a matter of time. In the early evening Morgan and Goren volunteered to go and get Chinese takeout for the group. There was a place just a few blocks away from the station and they decided to walk over.
“How well do you know Reid?” Morgan asked.
“Pretty well.” Bobby replied. “We were friends for quite awhile.”
“Spencer is like a brother to me, and I like to think the feeling is mutual. He can talk to me if anything’s wrong. I just don’t want him getting all messed up. He’s been through a lot lately and if you’re going to come in and tell him how to live his life again then...”
“No. That’s not my intention at all. Spencer was a good friend and I over-reacted and because of that I wasn’t there. I’m not going to make the same mistakes again.”
“Good.” Morgan left it at that. He didn’t like delving into his team-mates private lives and he knew he’d be pissed if they did the same to him, but Reid needed someone to look out for him. He wasn’t good at this type of thing. Socialising and friendships were difficult for the boy genius as...well you could say that Reid was an acquired taste. Back in the bullpen. Eames came and sat next to Reid. He was reading a book by the profiler Paul Britton: The Jigsaw Man. He barely seemed to glance at each page before turning it.
“Excuse me, but can you actually read that fast?” she asked him. Reid thought about explaining, but given the response his explanations had had in the past, he decided instead to just say:
“Yes, I can read that fast.”
“Bobby tells me you and he are good friends.”
“Yes, we were. You two must be close. Are you...together?” Reid asked, curious but unsure. “No, no, we’re just partners. Listen, Bobby, he’s been through a lot lately, with his mom and his brother. Getting suspended and having to have a psychological evaluation didn’t help. He seems to care a lot about you, and that’s a good thing, but he doesn’t need to be messed around. If you’re just going to ignore his advice again and then refuse call and apologise, then keep out of it.” Reid was slightly shocked at the intensity of the detectives warning.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to mess up again.” Was his reply. Just then, Derek and Bobby walked in with armfuls of Chinese food each. They all picked what they wanted and started to eat. There was some good natured teasing about the fact that Reid still hadn’t learned to use chopsticks, until J.J took pity on him yet again.
“Spence, come here.” She tied the two sticks together with a hair bobble. As she finished the tip hotline rang through. Garcia had been monitoring all the messages left and only put them through to the team if they sounded right. Hotch answered it.
“Hello?” He said.
“Is this the F.B.I?” a distorted voice replied.
“Yes, who is this?”
“I am the thought and the action, the intent and the idea. I do what others dream.”
“Yes, but what can I call you?” Hotch asked.
“You can call me God, for that is what I am to you. You should be thanking me.”
“Thanking you? Who do I thank?” Hotch pressured for a name.
“You can call me Emperor.”
“Arrogant son of a bitch.” Emily said as an aside to J.J.
“Why are you doing this?” Hotch asked.
“I am cleaning. The species must be cleansed. We shall be our own destruction if we allow the impure blood to continue to dilute our true species.”Morgan shook his head, teeth gritted. They all felt disgusted by this man.
“Are you working alone or do you work for someone?” Hotch asked, deliberately antagonising.
“I work alone. The others were too narrow to see my vision. They cast me out. But my work, my struggle, it shall set me free!”
“And what is your work?”
“You are not truly that stupid, are you F.B.I Guy?” They could hear the smirk in the man’s voice. “I hope not. It will be very boring otherwise.” He hung up.
“Garcia,” Hotch called. “Tell me you got him.”
“Yes, yes I got him, but he was moving through East Village, he did stop near the end though.” She sent the trace locations to the laptop. Goren pointed to the screen.
“That building he’s stopped outside, what is it?”
“It’s....an empty apartment block.” She said. “The owner is Simon Luster. He was on that list I made for you. He’s got into trouble for racial abuse and for beating up a disabled boy. He’s been linked to a group of white supremacists too. Ooooh! Get this, his sister was disabled and she disappeared. You don’t think....?”
“His sister was his first victim?” Morgan asked. “Baby-girl, I wouldn’t put anything past this slime-ball.”
“It’s in the right area.” Rossi said.
“Let’s go for it.” Hotch said. “We can’t risk him finding another victim. Let’s just hope we get lucky.” As they were getting into their bullet proof vests Alex Eames noticed Jennifer Jareau pulling a face as she got near a plug socket.
“Are you okay?” the detective asked.
“Yeah, it’s...the smell of the electricity. It’s bothering me for some reason.” J.J. replied.
“It was moonbeams for me when I was pregnant.” Eames smiled.
SIMON LUSTER’S APARTMENT BUILDING. WEDNESDAY. 22:00.
They were soon ready to roll and pulled up outside the apartment block. Hotch, Rossi and Emily took the front door with Logan and Wheeler. J.J, Reid and Morgan went in the back with Goren and Eames.
“Simon Luster! This is the F.B.I. We have a warrant for your arrest.” Hotch shouted. There was no answer. They burst through the door. Shouts of “Clear” rang through the building as they went through room by room. There were many amateurish booby-traps set. As Wheeler discovered shortly after entering the building.
“Detective!” Rossi whispered. “Don’t move.”
“Why shouldn’t she?” Logan responded, annoyed. “Because she’s standing on a pressure trigger.” Hotch replied, thinking ‘idiot’.
“Oh! Oh God! What...what do we do?” Logan whined.
“Don’t panic for a start.” Emily told him scornfully.
“We need something to replace her weight.” Logan went through into the nearest apartment. They were all empty, but some, such as this, still remembered people. It had a couple of mismatched chairs, some cupboards in which all that remained was single, solitary can of spam, and some ancient shelves, mounted on the wall. Logan pulled one of the shelves down with a harsh wrenching, while Rossi carried one of the heavier chairs out with some difficulty.
“Okay now, Megan, just hold still for me, okay?” Emily said quietly. Logan handed the plank from the shelves to Hotch. They carefully edged the end of the plank in under Wheeler’s foot. Rossi brought the chair over to them and put it down on the other end. Then they shifted the whole thing over and Megan gave an audible sigh of relief. Logan embraced her. Meanwhile on the other side of the building, Morgan busted down a door into another apartment. Reid followed him in, then Goren and Eames entered together. Reid went through to the small bedroom. Goren and Morgan both started forwards as one.
“Reid!” They exclaimed together. Reid looked down to see he was an inch away from a trip wire. He backed up quickly. Slowly and carefully they searched the entire building until all that was left was the basement. (Honestly, I have no idea why they don’t just start looking down there!) The two teams converged at the door to the basement and, with a nod from Hotch, Morgan kicked in the door. They headed carefully down the stairs.
“Simon Luster!” Hotch yelled. “Come out with your hands up!” there was no sound from below and then a woman’s voice came.
“Help me.” She said, her voice shook and she obviously had difficulty speaking. They continued down. The basement was dark and damp. They stopped on the second to last step. They could see Simon. He was holding a small boy in his arms. The child was black and was whimpering in the man’s arms. Hotch saw red. There were four cages in the small room, each with barely room to sit in. Three were occupied. The woman who had spoken before was in the cage farthest to the left.
“Put the boy down.” Hotch said in a deadly controlled voice. His trigger finger twitched.
“This? 16 is not a boy. It’s an animal.” He put his knife to the boy’s throat.
“There’s no way out.” Goren told the man. “If you kill that boy we will make sure that your message isn’t heard.” He tilted his head to the side and walked forwards so he was next to Hotch in front of them all.
“And that’s what you want isn’t it. To be heard.”
“Yes. No one ever listens. They turned me away.”
“I know. It’s terrible, isn’t it? To be ignored, when filth like that walks around free.” Goren replied. Morgan shot Reid a look. He was worried and he didn’t like the way Goren was talking.
“It’s okay.” Reid said quietly. “This is what he’s good at.”
“They won’t listen! They don’t understand that if we don’t do something...” Simon insisted.
“Then we’ll be over-run.” Goren finished. Simon loosened his hold on the boy and started forward.
“You understand.” He said. The boy made a break for it and J.J. swept him up into her arms. “No!” Simon exclaimed.
“It’s over Simon. Now, put the knife down and put your hands behind your head.” Hotch said. Goren nodded.
“Do as he says.” The detective agreed. Instead, Simon launched himself towards them with a snarl. Hotch let off 3 shots and Simon dropped to the floor dead. They got the survivors out of their cages and led them to freedom. As they returned to the outside world, Hotch’s phone rang.
“Hayley? This isn’t.... Jack! Hey buddy, how are you?...... Yeah? I bet that hurt. I’m sorry I couldn’t be their pal, but there was another little boy, who needed my help...... yeah, he was hurt too. He’s going to be alright though.......Really? Weren’t you scared?....... Good. I love you Jackie.” He smiled. Then his voice and demeanour changed a little. “Thank you Hayley........ Yeah, it was a bad one. Give him a kiss from me.” He hung up. Goren smiled at Reid as they exchanged phone numbers and promised to keep in touch. Then, the B.A.U. climbed into their matching S.U.V’s and headed back to the airport.
“Is Jack okay?” Rossi asked.
“Yeah, he’s fine. I’m just worried that being divorced from Hayley means that I’m going to be divorced from my son as well.” Hotch sighed. “You’re just going to have to work at it. Hayley obviously doesn’t want that, or she wouldn’t have called you. She wouldn’t have let Jack talk to you.”
He put a hand on his friends shoulder. “She’s ready to work on it as well.”
“Arbeit macht frei. Work shall make you free.” The gates at Auschwitz.