Conversations 10: Threads

By Helena Fallon

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds and no infringement of copyright is intended; I have merely borrowed the characters to play with a few of my own. All names of people and businesses are totally fictional.

It was Labour Day, a rainy September day for the public holiday, but it was no holiday for the team because a child had been abducted in their state, that very morning around 8 o'clock. Lorien Kudyk had taken her bike to visit her friend a few blocks away in a pleasant leafy suburb of Richmond. It was a short ride, one that she had done many times, and the light traffic on these local roads gave many young cyclists self-confidence in their road skills. However, when Lorien didn't turn up, as expected for their planned breakfast, her friend Naomi had rung Lorien's house. Very quickly a worried mother and father had set off in their car on the route she would have taken. They had found her bicycle on the verge, near the entrance to a small playground, but there was no sign of Lorien and the frantic parents had rung the police.

The police response had been exemplary; it was quickly established that Lorien had not arrived at Naomi's home nor was there any sign of her within the local vicinity. The local radio and television stations went into action with a state-wide alert and Lorien's face was on every news flash. The public responded by keeping their own children off the streets. But for the Police an elderly lady, who had been opening her drapes, gave them a possible lead. Joan Lucas had seen a young girl in a starry cycle helmet talking to a tall thin blond woman, with a red setter type dog, across the street. A large silvery car had been parked near by and she was sure a man was sitting in the driver's seat, but she couldn't really see him. However, Joan said that she'd never seen the woman walking her dog in the neighbourhood before.

Thirty minutes later, and a jogger, Joshua Needham, rang in to report seeing the girl and a blond woman talking, outside the play area as he passed pounding his regular route at a similar time to Joan. The Richmond Police felt that their luck was holding as Joshua was sure it was a foreign car, possibly a Mercedes and part of it's number plate was 1004. Asked why he was so certain about this, he said that he played the violin badly but BWV 1004 was the catalogue number of one of Bach's partitas. Seeing the number sequence made him think of music when he passed the car. By the time the BAU arrived, the local force had something to show for nearly two hours work.

Hotch was all business, after the introductions, they all knew that this was the golden window of opportunity to maximise sightings and get the message out to the public. Larry Burrells was an experienced lead detective whom the team immediately liked for his professional manner and the way the incident room was running efficiently.

"We thankfully don't get many of these stranger abductions. We've ruled out the parents, the time line is too tight and there are witnesses to her leaving her road and two sightings with the blond woman and the dog. We're working on the car at the moment. We've a partial plate and cars make. The radio and T.V. stations are ready to broadcast any information we want to release. They've been doing news flashes every 15 minutes with Lorien's picture," he told the team, summing up the situation at that moment.

"Excellent, you've done everything you could to maximise the time," Hotch assured and glanced at his team, who had spread out since hearing the summary to talk to some of the police officers in the room. Reid and Emily were looking at the local map with the reference points of the girls' homes and where Lorien's bicycle had been found.

Burrell walked over to them. "It's a nice affluent professional class area. Some people are away having a long weekend and fewer people were out and about because they were having a lie in… the weathers put a damper on the early morning joggers,"

"You were very lucky with the one who was out," Reid said, turning to the detective, " When was your last abduction?"

"A 15 year old, sneaked out after her Mom had told her she couldn't go to a party. She never got to the party, her body was found later near Fredericksburg, but that was 4 years ago now. Most of our crime is drug related burglary and domestic violence, usually brought on by drink"

"The usual then," joined Emily in.

"Yeah, but this neighbourhood is pretty quiet, we don't get many call outs. If a child goes missing it's a tug of love case… you know the child caught in the middle of divorced parents," Burrell explained, "This is different, these are strangers. The old lady has lived in the area for 30 years, retired teacher, knows her neighbourhood,"

"Well, we're lucky to have her sighting," said Hilton, coming over to join them.

"It's unusual for a man and woman to be working together, isn't it?" Burrell softly asked.

"Yes, but not unknown," Reid replied with an equally soft voice but he seemed a little distant.

Hilton had come to recognise that symptom as Reid thinking through an idea and considering if it was worth sharing with the team. But a triumphant voice broke into the quiet moment.

"I think I've got the car!" the voice came from a corner housing a bank of 6 computers. The team and Burrell moved to the one where a petite Latino woman in her 40's sat.

"What you got, Connie?" Burrell asked as he moved to look over her shoulder, staring intently at the screen. His smile told them that they had something to pass on to the media, the State Troopers and Highway Patrol.

"J.J." Hotch called her over, she would be handling the media. Her expertise was appreciated by Burrell, who had recognised her from news reports covering the BAUs other cases across the country.

Within minutes, the public was being asked to look out for a silver 'e' class 280 V6 classic 4 door Mercedes. Meanwhile, the police knew that it was part of a rental fleet based in Baltimore that usually rented out to middle class men who had flown in to do business in the state. The car had been hired by a Thomas Coulsey, and his licence stated that he was from Rochester, upstate New York. It didn't surprise the team, or the police, that the Rochester address was false and further checks led them to believe that the identity was also false. However, they did have the licence photograph to circulate and the atmosphere of the incident room remained upbeat. They had quite a lot going in their favour: a rainy holiday would keep a lot of people in doors until the homecoming traffic of those who had had a long weekend away from the area.

"A patrol think they've found the girl's helmet, a couple of blocks south of where she was last seen. A forensics team is on their way," said a white haired woman with a short unfussy hairstyle.

"Thanks Maggie, let me introduce you, Detective Maggie Demond, she's our specialist in child abduction cases," Burrell explained as he quickly made the introductions.

"You were with the first response team?" asked Hilton.

"Yes, I was already in the office when we got the call. I didn't doubt the parents story…you know when it doesn't feel right after 25 years on the job," she explained in a soft voice.

Hilton nodded; he liked her steadiness and felt her instincts could be trusted. "Why didn't you stay with the parents?" he asked out of curiosity.

"Sandra Corey was doing a good job with the Mom and Gary Frakes, he's just made detective, seemed to be having a good rapport with the Dad. One of us usually stays mobile in case we make a rescue, you know, for processing the child…"

"Yes, of course, it's best to have an experienced woman detective on the team to go through the hospital procedure…Let's hope we manage that, stay close and we'll take you with us," Hotch interjected. He too liked the maternal but no nonsense manner of this detective and hoped that her training would be put to use soon.

The next half-hour seemed to pass very slowly. In the next room a bank of telephones were being manned by officers, the majority of which turned up within minutes of the call going out that the holiday leave was cancelled. The two senior profilers were impressed. This station had a good managerial structure, and it showed in the respect the people had for Burrell and he for every member of the staff needed for the enquiry. They watched Burrell quietly work the incident and telephone rooms; he seemed to know everybody's name and appeared to be able to personalise every conversation he had with his people. It was those little touches that would help to keep the commitment of these people if the trail went cold after this promising start.

" Just had a call from a local vet. A red setter was found running across a major road, near the junction with the highway that heads towards Petersburg, car clipped it and stopped…the people took it to him," said a broad shouldered, athletic looking Afro-American.

"Could of course be pure co-incidence but with the detail about the dog…" he added, to the group that included his boss and Hotchner.

"Nothing should be ruled out at this stage," Hotch said, "Did the vet get the driver's name?"

"Yeah, local people which is why they knew the vet would take the dog in," the detective clarified.

"Right, why don't you and Morgan go see the vet and the driver, see if we can get any more detail," Hotch said. Burrell smiled, as he nodded his consent to his man, and the detective and Morgan headed for the door.

"They'll probably get on well," said Burrell with a twinkle in his eye, "They both looked as if they could do with some action out of here!"

"Morgan's the action man of the team," replied Hotch.

"Des will probably match him toe to toe!" Burrell quipped before suddenly turning serious again,

"That's the guy who got David Smith?" he asked, looking in Reid's direction.

"Yes, he's our resident genius and despite looking as if he's just out of school, he's a very good profiler," Hotch replied.

Burrell nodded, "He's been very quiet, thinking something through is he?"

"Probably, we tend to leave him when he's in these moods, he'll share any ideas when he's ready," Hotch assured, wondering just what was going on inside Reid's head at that moment.

Hilton listened to their conversation but didn't join in; he too had been watching Reid. Hilton had grown to appreciate the young man over the past 4 weeks that they had worked together. Reid was naturally quiet, but he could be quite assertive when he was sure of his ground or wanted the team to think in a different way about a case. Hilton hoped Reid would trust him enough to share some of his present thinking and walked over to the corner he was occupying out of everyone else's way.

En route he collected a couple of coffees as an excuse for invading his space. The smell of coffee roused Reid from his introspection, "Thanks," he said, taking the proffered mug.

"You're being very quiet, that means the brain cells are working overtime," Hilton lightly stated.

"I don't like a woman being involved; makes it more likely to have been planned rather than a spontaneous decision because of opportunity," Reid said and took a few sips of the coffee before continuing, "Then there's the rain. Now that usually reduces the opportunity but this couple still went out, and quite early too. It's odd, you'd have expected them to target a poorer area where more children would have been out early…."

"You think so?" challenged Hilton, deliberately pinning him down to more detail in his thinking.

"Kids in poorer areas are kicked out earlier, no matter what the weather. You know, sometimes to get away from parents …sometimes because the parents want them out of the way for some peace. Makes you wonder why some people have kids," he mused.

"You like children?"

Reid smiled, "I wouldn't have got very far with Catherine if I hadn't passed her 'can cope with children' test…I can't say that mine was a usual childhood, but I do have some happy memories of good times with both my parents." He took another gulp of coffee, "Catherine wants children as soon as possible really," he confided.

"How about you?" Hilton gently probed into this very sensitive subject. There had been rumours that perhaps the quick marriage was because Catherine was pregnant, but he doubted this to be the case. The genius was a reserved person and his wife was no extrovert; a quiet family wedding was just right for them.

Reid drank a little more coffee before replying in a very soft voice, "I'd been in dangerous situations before I met Catherine, but meeting her made me think more about sharing a future with someone. Then there was the kidnapping and everything that followed …well I just realised how precious our lives are and Catherine is a maternal person…a totally doting Auntie," he said smiling, "I said that I wouldn't think about children unless we were married…I must sound very old fashioned, but I think children like the stability of a family unit."

"Yeah, even if the job takes us away from the family a lot, but if we find the right woman it can work."

"I hope so, I think Catherine can cope with it, I've known her over 2 years. Lets just say we're trying, but this case…I don't like cases with children,"

"None of us do, even me, with my daughters all grown up. But now I'm a grandfather and it still gets me," admitted Hilton, sipping his own coffee.

"Those parents must be terrified…thinking the worst. I sometimes wonder if I'm strong enough to be a parent. You know, you give a child all that unconditional love…I mean I really care about Lucy, Daisy and Baby Ben…if anything happened to them…I'm sure I'd be impossible to be with and I'm only their Uncle," the young agent admitted.

"Being a parent is the worst and the best job in the world," Hilton said, "But I know what you mean…and you never stop worrying about them, even when they fly the nest. So you got any thoughts over this?" Hilton casually added.

"It may be nothing, but I remember Katie Cole, you know she's with the Maryland Crimes against Children Unit…well I got talking to her when on a case, it must be a year ago now," he began, "She told me about an unsolved case…one that had drawn a blank but…"

"What about the case?" Hilton pressed.

"A couple of months before, a body of a 12 year old girl had been found on the outskirts of Baltimore. There were signs that she had been in refridgeration before dumping; she'd died from a drug overdose. Her body had scars around the wrists and there were signs of sexual abuse. Anyway, DNA identified her as someone who had gone missing 3 years previously…just vanished of the street while on an errand. Maryland concluded that she had been kept as a sex slave until she got too difficult, or perhaps because she no longer looked the little girl. Baltimore has never solved the case but Katie said what she found really strange, was that the same week this girl was dumped, another 9 year old disappeared in Philadelphia…it's still unsolved."

"And Lorien is a small 10 year old, who has just disappeared from another city …you thinking there could be a connection?"

"I've asked Garcia to do a check for me if any bodies of young girls have reappeared after say 2 or 3 years recently…with indications that they had been kept for sexual purposes. I told her requests about this specific case had priority but…"

"It's worth doing a bit of digging…"

"It may go no where but Katie said that their girl had come from a good neighbourhood, good family, sensible girl…would not have just accepted a lift…"

"But might have felt safe if a woman was involved…" finished Hilton.

"Even better if the woman had a friendly dog and red setters tend to be over friendly," Reid added.

"What are you two up to?" Hotch asked quietly, but there was a tone of suspicion in his voice.

"Reid here was sharing an idea but Garcia may not have had the time to draw out the information yet. I'll get you some more fuel," he said to Reid, "While you explain it to Hotch,"

Hilton made his way to the percolator feeling uneasy about Reid's thoughts, but at least he had an idea of the direction of the young profiler's thinking. He refilled Reid's mug and looked back at the two men deep in conversation in the far corner of the room. Hotch was listening intently, his whole stance taut with the knowledge that if their genius was right then they could been opening a whole can of unsavoury worms. Burrell sidled up to Hilton.

"The youngster got any ideas?" Burrell asked.

"Yeah, and to be honest, I hope he's wrong but he's waiting for the teams techie to do some searches." Hilton replied, "If anything comes up we'll keep you in the loop, but it's just a hunch based on a conversation he had a year ago…"

Burrell looked amazed, Hilton smiled and added, " Reid has this amazing way of seeing patterns and he's got a feel for the work, you know…instinct…intuition or whatever,"

"Yeah, that indefinable quality that we've seen in the best law enforcement officers," Burrell replied.

"Yeah, can't teach it; some people acquire it through experience, some never get near it…" Hilton confided with the senior detective, who he felt was very good at his job.

Hotchner's cell rang, "Yes, Morgan,"

"The vet's treated the dog and is keeping it here for observation, but he took off the collar and checked for a microchip. It had one so he checked the pets'data bases. It was a rescue dog from Brooklyn; the animal shelter routinely uses microchips on the dogs they find new homes for. The new owner gave her name as Faye Downing, a Brooklyn address that Garcia's cross checking right now, told her to call you with the details. We're going to see Rose and Gordon Smalley who found the dog."

"Good, we'll send the collar and lead to the labs just in case there is any thing." Hotch closed the connection, his conversation with Reid had left him very uneasy. Within a couple of minutes the cell sounded again, he recognised the caller's ID.

"OK Garcia, what did you find out?"

"Faye Downing moved from the Brooklyn address 7 months ago, no forwarding address on file.

She was listed as a temping secretary, and according to the IRS, did pay taxes on the work done in the financial district over the past 4 years. The pay may have been good but she couldn't have afforded that area," remarked Garcia. She was being very efficient; Hotch noted that she lost her playful quirkiness when it came to cases involving children. "In a former life, she called herself Willow and was a model from the age of 16, although she called herself 18. She has convictions for DUI; her agency paid the fines and sent her to rehab. She was 19 and so there was underage drinking, but again the agency used a good lawyer. After rehab, she does a little more work and then drops out of the model scene. Then our lady appears to have got into bad company; the DEA were interested in her because of the friends she mixed with…how about playing around in the company of some suspicious wealthy Russians. Nothing seemed to stick and seems to have disappeared since moving out of the big bad nasty Apple!"

"Tell me that she is a tall blond, " said Hotch.

"Yeah, and sickeningly thin…you know, willow like," replied Garcia. Hotch thought he heard the mixture of disgust and envy in her voice.

"Can you get me Anderson," Hotch ordered.

A few minutes later, Anderson was being instructed to contact the New York office to see if they could find any friends, or neighbours, who might have some knowledge of her present whereabouts.

Burrell suddenly was at his side with Maggie Demond, "Got a sighting on the car, heading on the highway south, towards Petersburg. Des has been informed; he and Morgan are joining the chase because they're in the area."

"Fine, I would have sent them too being that close. Maggie you want to come with me? " Hotch invited and saw her nod. She liked this BAU team because they were respecting their policing expertise and treating them as equals.

"Emily, Reid we're moving…Hilton you staying here?" Hotch called.

"Yeah, I'll keep Garcia updated and Anderson in the loop," Hilton said. If the girl were found then the parents would still need to be counselled, no matter what the outcome. They all hoped for the best and the room's atmosphere was once again lifted by news of the car being within their reach. Both Burrell and Hilton stayed glued to the images shown on the occasional Highway monitors. These were then superseded by the continual, but shakier, images of the police helicopter that was soon part of the pursuit of the silver Mercedes.

Hotch drove with both lights flashing and siren blaring. Fortunately there was light traffic, but the rain was beginning to pour down and Hotch was conscious of the need to watch the road surface at the speed they were travelling. At least the highway was straight; any bends would have slowed them down a lot in these conditions. Emily silently sat next to Hotch, not wanting to distract the driver; Maggie and Reid, in the back, had not attempted to talk over the noise their vehicle was making. However, they were united in their purpose and the unspoken wish that Lorien was going to be found all right.

Morgan and Des had formed a good relationship despite only just being thrown together. Morgan admired the detective's common sense and his advanced driving skills, which Des was very proud of at that moment. The Highway patrols were setting up a block to slow the silver car down. Another 3 miles and the guy would have his car heading into a whole road width strip of steel needles, designed to puncture the tyres. The road had to be closed to operate this procedure, but the holiday and the rain was a blessing today. The driving conditions were difficult on the trickier surface because of the deluge that was now descending.

"Jeez, we ain't had rain like this for 6 months. I swear this man's suicidal the way he's driving," Des commented, appreciating the efforts of the Highway patrols that had managed to stop the sparse traffic so they didn't have to worry about other road users. They had the quarry in sight, but he showed no intent of slowing down, and appeared to be increasing his speed despite the weather conditions. Morgan watched through the overworked wipers on the windscreen. The silver car lurched across the thankfully empty lanes, throwing up fountains of dirty spray.

"Approaching the trap… see ahead…hold on!"

Morgan braced himself, part of his brain seemed to register what was happening in slow motion. The quarry had increased his speed even more when he saw the trap. Des began to apply the brakes evenly so he'd have better control. Morgan was aware of patrol cars parked alongside the road where they lay in wait, but he saw the silver car plunge ahead. The steel bed of spikes must have pierced the tyres but still the car was moving incredibly fast; it spun around. The driver still trying to drive on with flat tyres, but the speed was his down fall. The momentum on the wet road carried the car skidding along into a parked police car and suddenly both plunged down a small bank.

Des brought their car to a safe halt and was opening his door before Morgan registered that they had stopped moving. Morgan felt quite shaken but training made him move; there was a child to be rescued and he was soon wet and sliding down the bank with other officers towards the overturned car. Doors were being prised open by Highway Patrol officers who were trained to rescue from crashed cars. By the time Morgan reached the car, the driver was being pulled out.

"Bastard's still alive… no one else in the car" the officer shouted. The activity now turned to trying to get into the trunk.

"We got to get the car more on the level, the trunk is wedged into the bank…" Des instructed, "If she's here it'll be the trunk,"

Eight men heaved together and strained their bodies so they could get it into a position to force the trunk open. They worked not daring to voice the unspoken fear, that the smell of petrol made them think of the risk fire. They were disappointed; all their efforts revealed an empty trunk.

Hotch arrived just as these wet and exhausted men clambered up the embankment.

"They've not found her," Maggie said from the back seat.

"How can you be so sure?" asked Emily.

"Even if they had found a body there would have been some satisfaction of finding her, but look at them, these men have given their all and are feeling defeated," she replied with compassion.

Morgan came over, covered in mud and soaked to the skin, "Bastard is unconscious but no sign of the girl…he just kept putting his foot down, you know like he wanted to kill himself."

The wail of the ambulance could be heard getting nearer, "Emily, you go with the unsub, get finger prints and DNA samples, and stay there in case he talks."

Emily got out of the car and joined the paramedics who were stabilising their patient.

"You OK, Morgan?" Hotch asked, concerned that he seemed unusually quiet.

"Yeah, that was one hell of a chase. Des is quite a guy," he said with admiration in his voice.

"Oh right, he was in his element…he's a frustrated rally driver," Maggie said by way of explanation and Hotch was pleased that Morgan flashed her his charming grin.

"So got any ideas now?" Morgan asked.

"You and Des get back and cleaned up, we'll have to try and concentrate on the woman. I'll have forensics take the car apart, there still might be evidence despite the present problems," Hotch replied and spent the next few minutes on his cell phone with Burrell.

Maggie turned her attention to the very quiet agent beside her, "You didn't expect we'd find her did you?" she suddenly questioned him.

Reid looked at her with large sorrowful eyes, "I think the man and woman split soon after taking her, I … there is more to this and we may just have found a tiny thread…but how far it unravels depends on if our luck holds," he stumbled to explain. But Reid was reminded of the haunted look Katie Cole had when she had told him of her unsolved case the previous year.

"You've got a reputation for putting together threads of evidence," Maggie encouraged, feeling that this young man was all too aware of the enormous expectations that people had of him. She sensed an inherent goodness about him but also a man who didn't quite fit comfortably in to the world. "We are still only 4 hours into this case, we've made a lot of progress and once the forensic evidence starts coming in…why the unsub's prints might be in CODIS!" she tried to keep upbeat.

"Now that would be useful but…"

"We need to get back to Richmond and review what we have, " Hotch suddenly said, as he turned the ignition key, "Reid, get on to Garcia and see if she and Anderson have found out any more about Faye Downing. We'll get J.J. to get some pictures out at the next news update,"

The incident room was subdued by the time they returned but news came through from forensics that the unsub was in CODIS and the spirits were revived again. The silver car had been taken back to Quantico with a priority tag and the labs there were keen to process material quickly, knowing how important time was with missing children. Burrell, Maggie and the remaining team, met in Burrell's office for a quick lunch and to discuss the information that had been gathered by Garcia, Anderson and the labs so far.

Hilton filled them in. "The man is Craig Patterson, 39, with convictions for pimping and Coke possession. But he seems to have kept out of the limelight for the last 5 years. The DEA are interested in him, they suspect some involvement with the Russian Mafia and drugs, but can't prove anything. He seems to have some questionable friends in New York but the company he keeps and tying him into drug running, or money laundering, are totally different things. He seems to have won money in Las Vegas, and invested money in a small restaurant run by his sister in Greenwich Village. It appears all legit. Also a childless uncle left the pair money 6 years ago and Patterson has made some wise investments on the stock market."

"So nothing to indicate why he should be the prime suspect in a child abduction?" Burrell asked.

"No, the DEA have been keeping a quiet eye on him because of his friends but he lives modestly in, Princeton, New Jersey, apparently off the earnings of his investments,"

"And the woman" Reid asked, "Any connection between the two?"

"Not as Faye Downing, but a woman of her description has been seen with him. Patterson's sister says she's a girlfriend, called herself Ashley King, but he hasn't brought her to the restaurant recently. She thought Ashley had left New York and wasn't sure that they were even still seeing each other. Garcia found an address for Ashley King in Baltimore; it's a rented property owned by Craig Patterson. Apparently, he owns three properties which were once owned by his uncle, Dominic Patterson,"

"Mmm…" intoned Reid and Maggie turned and smiled at him, she was sure that there were a lot of threads that the genius was weaving together.

"So what is Ashley King doing in Baltimore?" asked Maggie, unable to stop herself keeping an eye on the youngest. He reminded her of her college-aged son who was studying in Pennsylvania.

"The occasional bit of secretarial temping, and P.A. work. We have a recent photo from her Maryland driving licence," J.J. passed the unsmiling image around, she looked the model type; the thinness of her face showed her strong cheek bones and full tempting lips. Hotch could easily imagine her as Willow, just one of a number of clothes hanger temptresses that filed the women's magazines and ads every day.

"Are all the properties in Baltimore?" Reid suddenly asked.

Hilton checked his notes, "No, an apartment in Baltimore, another in Princeton and a small house in Fairfax, Virginia. The house was previously rented out to an old man who died 8 months ago and Craig Patterson has it listed as belonging to his property portfolio but it hasn't been relet. Patterson's rented out his former apartment in Brooklyn Heights as fully furnished. DEA tell us he only moved just a few boxes to Virginia 6 months ago. Anderson has a warrant and has headed for Fairfax."

"I'm glad I called you people in, we'd never have got this far so quickly with all the resources and contacts you can bring into play," Burrell said.

"You've been doing just great," Hotch assured, "How are the road blocks doing?"

"We've been checking all cars on the Highway going south out of Richmond because he was on this road. But there are a lot of side roads serving smaller communities and these back roads could take you all over the state."

"You checking trucks as well?" Reid interjected.

"Yeah, but there are not many on the road being Labour Day,"

Reid nodded tightly, "I think the woman is lying low for the moment, she'll not go south, the local news station already picked up on the bed of nails incident. I think its best to say that the man was wanted for questioning in another matter…With the interest of the DEA, we might be able to get away inferring a drug interest." Reid drank a little more coffee, but his colleagues were expecting a little more because he'd spent some time talking to Garcia and using his laptop since the car ride.

"I think Lorien was taken to replace another girl who has been disposed of, namely a Cheryl Feldberg. She went missing for 2 years from Dover, Delaware but dumped in the neighbourhood she disappeared from, 8 days ago. Like Katie Coles's unsolved murder last year, that girl, Chelsea Braddock had disappeared 3 years before. They both showed signs of sexual abuse and refridgeration after death implying having to organise disposal, like hiring a suitable vehicle or distance to travel, to put the girl back onto home territory. The girls also died of heroin overdoses. Both Maryland and Delaware have assumed that these girls were kept by someone in their home state; but what if that was the plan all along, to throw us off the scent of an organised paedophile ring."

"That's only two girls," said Burrell evenly.

"There was Madison Bentley from Philadelphia, she went missing from a predominantly white professional class suburb in March '06, turned up dead in the same neighbourhood 11 months later. M.E. said she'd died from a thrombosis, there was evidence of the contraceptive pill in her system and sexual abuse. Mrs. Bentley was one of those women who was advised not to take the pill due to her blood clotting factor, something her child had not been tested for, but it does tend to be 50 hereditary. Five days after Madison was found, a girl disappeared in New Jersey. This was 9 year old Heidi Grindell who disappeared after visiting her friend in nice professional affluent area of New Brunswick; she's still missing."

"Oh hell!" Morgan voiced their sentiments, "And these are all Caucasian girls around the same age and from fairly wealthy quiet areas?" he asked, clarifying what Reid had said.

"Yeah, " I've not had Garcia check New York and New England, I thought I'd just concentrate on this cluster of states," said Reid, briefly sweeping a long elegant index finger across the map covering Maryland, New Jersey, Delaware, Pennsylvania and Virginia. I think the time scale is interesting: Chelsea Braddock went missing in '03. Patterson has been trying to keep a low profile for the past 5 years, and that seems to fit in around the same that Faye Downing dropped out of modelling and into temping. With Patterson's conviction for pimping, I'm sure he knew what the clientele liked and his inheritance from his uncle has given him a legal income and freedom from regular work. I think his move out of New York is important too. Perhaps his Russian friends encouraged him to leave their pitch or have helped him set up in this part of the country, and a more lucrative area for blackmail, with the capital being within easy reach of Fairfax." Reid speculated.

"Would there be much call for child prostitution with the risk of scandal in Washington?" asked Burrell.

"Prostitution is in every city and some of those girls look very young, you know, just out of school. Some even deliberately play up their skinniness and dress like little girls," Hotch remarked, "There is always a demand but this would have to be very secretive and, if Reid's right, very exclusive and expensive,"

"Exactly, I don't think Patterson has those sort of funds, but the Russian Mafia is another matter. There would be the opportunity to call upon clients for favours in return for keeping quiet about their paedophilia," Reid said.

"Reid, lets keep real here," said Hilton, "I can see the possibility of a paedophile ring with these missing girls but it's a big leap into Washington and blackmail,"

"Perhaps, but with all of these abductions it would have been very easy to get on the state Highway system and head towards Washington and the rich pickings there."

"It's still speculation," Hilton said firmly.

"We need to see if Patterson and Downing/King had any off shore accounts… you know like the Bahamas or Cayman Islands. If Anderson finds a computer, we'll have to see if there is any indication of his finances or suspicious e-mails." Reid persisted, "Why move his New York things to Virginia and not Princeton, where the DEA think he lives most of the time. Fairfax is spitting distance of Washington, I think we need to watch the roads heading towards Washington."

"Reid, are you always this fanciful?" Burrell asked, the scepticism heavy in his tone.

"The more I think about it, the more I…" began Reid but Hotchner's cell bleeped and Reid saw his boss stiffen as he glanced at the ID.

"If you'll excuse me," he said in a quiet serious tone and moved to the far corner of the room.

Everyone was instinctively quiet, perhaps it was Reid and his speculation but then the room went cold as they heard Hotch's side of the conversation.

"Yes Sir,…Prentiss is with the unconscious Patterson, the rest of the team is with me, in this room at the moment…I see… But…Yes Sir," the team passed looks amongst themselves, they had never heard the Unit Chief have such a conversation before. Burrell and Maggie Demond sensed that the team was uneasy. Burrell looked to Hilton and was about to whisper to him when Hotch spoke again,

"I must protest, Sir, we are at a crucial stage…Reid thinks it's a paedophile ring working out of Washington…Yes Sir, …immediately Sir," Hotch closed his cell and looked back at the assembled group. All eyes were on his pale face. Hotchner took a few moments to gather his thoughts before speaking to his colleagues.

"A helicopter will be picking us up in 5 minutes from the helipad on this building. We are summoned back to Quantico, except Emily…We're to report to the Director's office." There was a collective gasp amongst the BAU team.

"Why?" Burrell demanded.

"I'm not sure, but these situations usually mean we are treading on someone elses investigation and we're going to be briefed about it. I've been told that we are still on this investigation, and Emily is to stay watching Patterson. As soon as we know what is going on we'll be in touch. I've been asked that you not say anything about the conversations we've had in this room." said Hotchner eyeing both Burrell and Maggie, "I promise I'll tell you what's going on when I can, but it must be urgent for a helicopter to be sent for us."

The team silently filed out of the room and collected their coats, each keeping to their own thoughts as they made there way to the roof. They stood together on the sidelines as they listened to the hum of a helicopter get louder.

"What have we done?" said Hilton to Hotch.

"I don't know but …when I mentioned Reid's theory, then the Director wanted us in his office as soon as possible…Perhaps your idea isn't so fanciful after all Spencer," Hotch managed to say before the noise made it impossible to hold a conversation.

Reid felt cold and there was a tension growing in the pit of his stomach. He got in the large helicopter. These machines were usually used to ferry department heads between New York and Quantico, he had never heard of one being sent to pick up a team for an urgent meeting with the Director. Reid looked up and found that J.J. had managed to sit next to him, they each gave one another a reassuring smile. In this situation he was glad to have J.J.'s familiar quiet sensitivity beside him. Reid didn't know what was going to happen but he resolved not to loose sight of the missing child. Lorien was still missing and Reid didn't care whose toes he trod upon. He resolved to do his best to keep this investigation alive.

Hotch was sitting opposite Reid and he saw the look of determination set upon his bony features. He guessed it had something to do with keeping Lorien's plight central to whatever talk they were being summoned to.

Hotchner glanced at Hilton, he seemed deep in his own thoughts, and there was a worried look upon Morgan's face. J.J.'s face was pale and she was looking down at her shoes, lost in thought.

Five minutes later they were walking along the corridor to the Director's conference room, a place where only Hotch had ever been before.

The group walked through the open door into a long and spacious room with light oak panelling. The room's only adornment was their national flag and the FBI emblem at one end of the room and a clock at the other. A long oak table dominated the room, large enough to easily accommodate 30 leather-seated chairs.

"Come in and sit up this end," the Director invited brusquely. The profilers all noted the tension in his manner. "Now Agent Reid, I want you to tell me your theory concerning this present case," he stated without any further preamble.

Spencer Reid momentarily glanced at Hotch and saw him give a slight nod of encouragement. Reid took a deep calming breath and then plunged into the ideas he had expounded back in Richmond. The Director listened carefully and once he had finished sat for a few moments in silence staring at the team seated before him.

"Dr. Reid, I knew I was justified in letting Gideon talk me into allowing you to join us at such a young age, but I must admit I didn't think that you would be able to put together such a coherent argument on just a case of child abduction. However, your searches have touched upon other investigations and jeopardise those and I must ask you to hold off…"

"Hold off!" Reid erupted; the rest of the team were momentarily stunned. Their quiet Spencer was not the sort of person to shout, and certainly not at the Bureau's Director, but neither Hotch nor Hilton wanted to intervene because they were proud of the stance he was obviously going to take.

"This is morally indefensible! A 10 year old girl is abducted, the local police department respond correctly and we get lucky and then, just because we appear to be upsetting another department's or agency's plans, we're asked to sacrifice this child! As the father of two daughters, how do you justify that with you conscience?" Reid raged. Hotch noted with satisfaction that the Director looked uncomfortable, but his youngest agent was not finished.

"It's all very well you summoning us here, but you have not told us why or who is pulling your strings!"

"Dr. Reid, that is enough…" the Director began.

"No, it is not enough, you want our loyalty. Loyalty only comes with respect, from where I'm sitting your behaviour is not worthy of my loyalty or respect." Reid's cold fury swept icily around the room. Hotch noticed how Morgan, J.J. and even Hilton seemed to glare at the Bureau Chief with the same hostility that Reid was voicing. Hotchner was proud to have Spencer on his team.

"These matters concern national security, we need some time to act, to co-ordinate…"

"You do not play a watching game when a child is at risk. Nobody's reputation should be protected in this case; child prostitution is illegal, child abduction is illegal. We need to find this child and the woman who participated in her abduction…"

" Dr. Reid!" the Director's rarely heard commanding tone halted Spencer, and the whole team felt as if a bullwhip had been whacked in front of them "I have no intention of letting that child slip into a world of fear and degradation. There is much you do not understand and the work that is behind a complex case." The man drew breath and cast his stern eyes across the people at the table. They all looked rebellious and the Director silently admitted they were all a fine group of decent individuals who held principles close to their hearts.

"Please, " the Director tried to restore some calmness to the table. "It has been found that even the Bureau has been tainted by this. There are individuals in this agency that have allowed friendships, or perhaps obligations, to try and influence cases. At this moment, there are co-ordinated actions taking place by various security agencies, to take into custody certain individuals both in New York and in the Capital area. Your enquiries, Agent Reid were getting dangerously close and people who had been watched, for nearly a year, could have got suspicious and alerted the very people we want."

"That's all very well but little Lorien is still missing," interjected Reid.

"Agent Reid! You are so like your father, will you just…" the Director's voiced sounded exasperated, but there was also a softening of his earlier tight features.

"What has my father got to do with this case?" Spencer retorted, not liking how this man's knowledge of his father was now being used against him.

"Everything!" the Director replied, and then regretted his outburst as the young man's face turned white.

"No, not …I mean, Dr. Reid, your father, has patiently helped to make a case against the individuals we are trying to trap. I am not allowed to speak about his work at the Pentagon but his abilities have traced hidden bank accounts and we are trying to cast the net wide enough so none slip through it. But please bear with me, Quantico is compromised and our New York office. The DEA found two of their people, they thought were utterly trust worthy, have been giving the Russian Mafia tip offs and destroying evidence. The judiciary in New York is also contaminated. There are 4 judges who have been under surveillance because of possible blackmail over using young Eastern European prostitutes, owned by the Russians running the drugs in competition with the Colombian drug barons." The agents around the table were attentive. The Director noted that Agent Reid was still taut and ready to fight his corner again if he thought it necessary.

"Once you started making more searching enquiries about Craig Patterson, and then getting a warrant to search the Fairfax house…which incidentally the DEA had dismissed. They thought Patterson was going to renovate it and then relet it because it's in prime commuter country… However, Anderson immediately sent Patterson's computer back to Garcia, who immediately looked for inter-net banking links and broke into Patterson's Hotmail address. I had an urgent call from your father," the Director gave Spencer a look, " I went to your department and questioned Garcia. She told me that her 'Junior G man' had given her orders…"

The Bureau's Chief shook his head and Hotch felt some sympathy for him; Garcia in a defensive mood over her work and a child abduction case!

"My father knows about Patterson's activities?" Spencer questioned in a much quieter voice.

"Patterson had not been connected with a paedophile ring until now," the Director said, "It was thought that he was acting as an intermediary between for Joseph Lentov, the New York Russian Mafia boss, and his cousin, Leonid Josef, who owns the largest share of the exclusive Aspen Falls complex."

"The former concert pianist?" queried Spencer.

"Yes, after the car accident ended his music career, he invested in the golf course and housing complex at Aspen Fall. The DEA have now managed to find how it was a way of money laundering for his cousin. The people who are members of that golf club include Supreme Court judges, politicians of both Houses and basically any one of the great and the good who want to be seen. Josef makes a big show of donating 10 of his profits to worthy causes and he lives in the biggest house on the site. It is very pleasant, I've been to charity events there, and my wife is on various committees that hire his function rooms at the club house."

"The perfect cover; legitimate charity functions masking illegal ones," said Hotch.

"Exactly, we knew about the New York operation but it's a case of evidence and people didn't want to talk or just disappeared; so it was all rumour but no substance. Then in Washington we had our break with a dying man who told the security services about the special parties, for the boys, that Josef sometimes held. There were usually plenty of pretty woman and drugs to help things along but he couldn't cope with the children."

"Did the informant say how many were involved?" asked Hilton.

"No, he was unsure and he only thought that they were South American. They didn't speak much English, but he gave us a few names of the men attending the party he was invited to."

"So where are the children from?" asked J.J. her concern evident in her voice.

"The DEA believe that there are the occasional deals with Latin America; the drug barons keep their control of the growers by taking the children. Sometimes the children get returned but often they just become part of the stable of prostitutes they run," explained the Director.

"What happened to the informant?" Reid asked.

"He died of cancer soon after telling his story. If he hadn't confessed we would have been none the wiser. We didn't think white middle class girls were involved in this and your actions have made us have to act quicker than we had intended. However, the BAU does provide us with a perfect cover. It would be best if you front the rescue of these girls and that way we can play down some of the men caught in this."

"Sir!" said Hotch, Reid and Hilton simultaneously sounding mutinous.

"These bastards shouldn't get away with it!" Morgan said at the same time.

"I won't be able to work here if there's a cover up!" stated J.J. over the masculine voices.

The Director felt very proud of the people before him, despite the fact that he was the one in the firing line.

"There is not going to be a cover up," he quietly, but firmly assured, " All those guilty will be punished, but we have to be careful not to play into the hands of our enemies. The people who have been arrested and taken to places of safe keeping will be punished, I give my word, but we have to have the best possible evidence to make these charges stick. I left Garcia and Anderson following the orders Reid issued, to keep an eye on the Highway going north out of Richmond for a van or lorry that might have refridgeration for perishable foods."

"Good, I didn't want them to alert the company's but just to check registration and see if it was all bone fide," Reid added, much calmer as things seemed to be keeping the case alive.

"Now I want you to concentrate on identifying the vehicle. The bad weather and the public holiday has worked in our favour," the Director said, "The holiday meant that certain people in influential positions were having a holiday too, so it saved the fuss of having to arrest them in their place of work. Now I want you to go back to the BAU office and see how Anderson and Garcia are getting on. I can't let you leave the building yet, not until I receive conformation that the raids have been successful. Hotch, I need to speak to you alone,"

The other agents left the conference room and headed back to their domain. They were silent, each thinking about what had been said, however, there was still Lorien to find.

Once the others had left, Hotch turned to the Director, "You'd better keep your word or you'll loose all of us," Hotch said in an uncompromising tone.

"Yes, I know, young Reid is a force to be reckoned with isn't he?"

"This is a nasty case and it's getting nastier by the minute. It was unfair to use his father's name," said Hotch, who felt that trying to deflect Reid with bringing his father into the conversation had been uncalled for. Hotch was actually pleased with how Reid had handled himself: the Bureau's Director had not intimidated him.

"I actually have the greatest respect for Will Reid and he has every reason to be proud of his son. Both share a sense of integrity and if they believe in something, they hold true to their position. It's not Reid I want to discuss," the older man said.

Hotch gave his superior his full attention wondering what more was there to be said about a case that had already shaken them.

"Hotch one of those taken into custody is Erin Strauss. Her husband, Jeff, is a member of the Aspen Falls consortium along with his very good friend and fellow golfer, Eugene Steyer, husband of Congresswoman Steyer."

Hotch sat speechless, the pieces falling into place and his suspicions about Steyer being behind Strauss's moves against him.

"Karen Steyer is in Los Angeles at the moment, but she will be met at the airport and brought back in a private jet." The Director continued, "Her phone calls have been monitored for almost a year now, and we know that she has been leaning on Strauss to do her bidding with appointments and the like."

"What did Steyer have on Strauss?"

"Probably Jeff's weakness for one of Josef's girls, a dark Russian girl called Anya, can't be more than 17. Despite his liking for a younger woman, Strauss seems to have tolerated it because it was all carried on discreetly at Josef's home. If he had been seen with another woman more openly, Strauss would have been forced to act. But Erin Strauss liked her life style and the prestigious circles she moved in at Aspen Falls. Of course, the great and the good are all going to distance themselves if we can pin things on Josef … if we can get the vehicle at his house…"

"It will give us just cause for a search warrant,"

"That has already been signed, we know who we can trust. Once Will had Josef's off shore banking details, he could trace back all his payments into and out of his substantial accounts. It was very revealing, but people have been under surveillance for some time, we have quite a lot from electronic surveillance. Steyer couldn't control you, Eugene thought your operation amongst the Washington prostitutes might have thrown up some rumours…they were beginning to get paranoid about their exploits."

"Guilty minds," muttered Hotch, "Does Karen Steyer know about the paedophile ring?"

"She thinks it's an exclusive stable of prostitutes. I've heard a recorded conversation between her and Strauss where she tells Strauss that it's far better that their men use Josef's girls because at least they are not picking women up off the street."

"So it's all right behind the closed doors of an exclusive house on the golfing estate for the rich and influential of Washington," replied Hotch in disgust.

"Unbelievable isn't it? I couldn't take it all in at first, but I don't think either women believe children are involved. Even so, their spouses have a lot of money invested in this complex and there is evidence of payment to Josef from both men, which is believed to be blackmail money. Then there are the payments from Josef, into off shore accounts, to both women and that was for using their influence in specific meetings. As I said, we are fortunate to have this recorded so both of their careers are over, we were waiting for the right time to move."

"Prentiss is not really involved is she?"

"I thought I'd re-assured you over that. I made sure that she was checked and watched very carefully. Reid was trained well by Gideon wasn't he?"

"Yes, but he's his own person,"

"I don't doubt it. You'd better go and see what your team is up to …for all I know they might be about to lead a revolution from within this organisation…And Hotch, don't tell them about the Strauss/Steyer thing."

"Of course, Sir,"

Hotch made his way back to his department. His step felt lighter than it had in weeks; he could continue to enjoy his work again without having to always look over his shoulder, expecting Strauss and her cronies watching him.

The department was a hive of activity and there was an upbeat feel. Hilton beamed at him as he walked into the bullpen,

"They have a possible suspect vehicle. I was about to call you." Hilton said and then whispered, "Everything about the Strauss problem OK?"

"Yeah, it's all over, thank God," he whispered back and then caught sight of Morgan. "So we got the vehicle in our sights?" he asked.

"Ain't Hilton told you?" Morgan queried, looking at the small dapper man and wondered what the two men had just been whispering about.

"He just walked through the door as I was going to call him so he could escape the Director's wrath." Hilton said seriously.

"Hey, Hotch, we in trouble?" Morgan asked, but he'd support Reid's stance to any disciplinary board if the Director turned difficult.

"No one is in trouble, in fact, I think he's rather proud of the team and our integrity. Don't worry every thing is fine. Now, what's been happening?"

They joined the rest of the team in the now very crowded Computer room. Hotch was updated on their findings. The monitors were tracking a small delivery van belonging to 'Four Seasons Organic Produce'. Further checks on this company revealed that it had been running for 9 years and based in New Jersey. Their trucks delivered countrywide and had just opened an outlet on the West Coast, in San Diego. The company aimed at delivering organic fruit, vegetables and organically reared meat to the door, for their exclusive customers. They aimed at wealthy professionals living in the exclusive pleasant housing estates just like the ones where the missing and dead girls came from.

Cross checking vehicle registration and insurance details, it was found that the small truck on the screen was bogus. It did not belong to the legitimate company and was registered to a Marcus Toomey.

"He doesn't exist, died 18 months ago, but he bought the truck and registered and insured it," said Anderson triumphantly, who was feeling very much part of this case.

"We even got a good shot from a gantry camera on the Highway. Enhancement shows a dark haired woman but those cheekbones look familiar. What you think, Oh great leader?" Garcia said playfully.

"She's not my type but a wig can't hide that bone structure, who's with her?" asked Hotch.

"We're working on it," said J.J.

Hotch could see the two women, Anderson and Reid in front of 4 different computer screens.

"They are going through different Photo records…criminal and licensing for New Jersey, Maryland and Virginia. Looks to be around 30, and that birthmark on his right temple is distinctive," said Morgan.

"Right, I'd better tell the Director because we really do have to co operate with other agencies… even if we're going to get the kudos of the rescue," said Hotch.

"Reid worked this one out, Hotch, we should get the credit, in other circumstances we'd be stopping that vehicle now," said Hilton.

"Look, the Director is really very proud of this unit and it's integrity, lets get the best possible outcome for all the children involved in this one. Hilton, call Burrell and have Maggie sent up; she should be part of this too," Hotch said, "And everyone, I know I work with the best team in this building, now carry on," Hotchner said, before he turned and went to his office to ring his boss.

The atrocious rain had slowed the traffic on the Highway, but Burrell had despatched a police helicopter to transport Maggie. She was not too happy about the flying conditions, but it was thankfully a short ride. Maggie was appraised of the situation and felt excited about the arrangements now being made to rescue the girl. But it was decided to keep the parents in the dark, merely saying that they were following a very positive lead.

At almost 17.00 hours, the BAU operatives and Maggie found themselves in a convoy of 6 vehicles heading out from the Pentagon. The rain was now a light drizzle and the short helicopter ride to the Pentagon had been interesting because she could pick out the capital's landmarks. Once they had landed, the team had been escorted to 2 spacious bullet-proof elegant black cars. Maggie wondered if her colleagues would ever believe her account when she got back to Richmond. The Washington public and drivers didn't seem to take any notice of their passing and she mused that they probably thought they were some visiting VIP or Ambassador. At one stage, the traffic was held up to give them priority. Through the darkened windows she saw the small truck that they were sure held Lorien, but the plan was to get ahead and lay in wait for it's arrival.

Maggie was in the car carrying, Reid, J.J., and Anderson. Anderson sat in the front with the driver who told them he was Tom, from National Security. The looks her companions gave her assured Maggie that they felt out of their depth on this one too. Someone else had arranged all of this, not the FBI, and they still didn't know the details for the present operation .

Once out of the city, the rain stopped and it was a pleasant leafy drive to Aspen Falls Golf Course and exclusive housing complex. They swept through the high gates and followed the road, sign posted for the Aspen Valley, not the Aspen Fall Golf Course. They began to sweep down a road with landscaped countryside on either side; the occasional mansion, of varying grand designs, could be spotted from the road. The largest mansion had the most commanding position and was beside an artificial lake. It was to this house, with a walled garden and large picture windows to capture the breath taking views, that they were headed.

However, Tom suddenly drove the car off the road and into a copse of leafy trees. They got out and joined the waiting Hotchner, and another man from 'security' called Frank, to be told the rest of their instructions

"We're on foot from here. The others have already gone ahead. Everyone is to put on a vest; they're in the trunk. Security have already dealt with the surveillance cameras that would have alerted people in those houses…All they see on their cameras is an empty road. We're going the back way in. There are plenty of men ready to take the house as quickly as possible once the truck arrives. Everything depends on when we go in, it's also going to trigger simultaneous raids in New York on several properties but that's a joint DEA and IRS venture." Hotchner said quietly, "Just let security slip in first, their fear is they'll kill the girls before we get to them, but surprise is in our favour."

They set out quietly over the soggy ground following Tom and Frank and within minutes they were in position at the back of the house. No one talked, but Maggie thought over the case and wondered who the man was in the truck with the woman. The databases had drawn a blank. Maggie, and this part of the team, had orders to rescue Lorien. A helicopter was on standby to take her to hospital with Maggie. Her team mates looked very young but they had put on the bullet proof vests with the ease of experience. She still thought that Reid looked like a student; the gun he wore round his thin waist looked out of place on him and the holster bulging out, as it did, only drew attention to this leanness.

"Standby, quarry approaching," whispered Frank.

They instantly became alert and heard the engine before the small truck leisurely swung round to the back of the house and into the delivery area, at the side of the kitchen. The male driver got out, and stretched, relieving his muscles from the drive. The woman got out of her side and yawned, and leaned back in to the cab to get her shoulder bag. They saw that they were both wearing the trademark uniforms of the 'Four Seasons' company. Maggie thought how easily these people could have moved through those nice residential areas without any suspicion. They were waiting for Frank and Tom to make their move, everyone had their guns in hand.

"I'll see how the pumpkin is," Downing said, moving to the back of the truck with the keys in her hand.

Tom moved silently round to the back of the truck, Frank slipped alongside the unsuspecting male. These men were very good; their targets were quietly disarmed and cuffed with in what seemed like seconds to Maggie. The team moved swiftly to the back of the truck. Reid entered first, followed by Anderson, and looked around for a possible place to conceal a small child. Reid indicated a storage compartment with a goats milk symbol but it also had a padlock to keep the lid shut. Reid looked at the woman's set of keys and selected one to try, then another. The fourth key slipped in perfectly and the team held their breaths as Reid lifted the lid. His expression told them that they had found Lorien before his soft calming words.

"Hi, Lorien, my name is Spencer and I'm with the FBI. It's all right, your safe now… I'm going to lift you out and put you into Maggie's lap. Maggie is a detective from Richmond and she's been helping us try to find you all day."

Reid lift her carefully clear of the container and Maggie thought it best to get her outside and away from her prison. She saw a seat over by the kitchen wall and led the way over. Reid gently placed the trembling child into her lap. It was then that Maggie saw her hands were taped together and her legs; there was also thick heavy-duty tape over her mouth. J.J. appeared with scissors and evidence bags but it was Reid who dealt with the tape after he had put on protective gloves.

"I'm going to take the tape of your mouth, it'll pull a bit but I'll be as quick as I can," he assured the victim. Lorien's hazel eyes never left his face as he reached down and pulled decisively.

"Aagh," Lorien's voice sounded quite feeble, but they were all relieved to hear it. J.J. held open the evidence bag for her colleague and then labelled it for the forensic lab.

"It's OK, Lorien, Spencer is going to cut your hands and legs free now. We're going to take you to hospital by helicopter, have you ever been in a helicopter?" Maggie chatted away re-assuringly to the silent girl, as Reid cut away tape and put them in individual evidence bags held open by J.J.

While all of this was happening, Tom and Frank kept the two suspects out of sight. Frank had summoned the helicopter and they could hear shouting and some banging from inside the building. Other armed men in the dark commando type dress came to take the two suspects away in a car. Frank escorted Maggie, carrying the pale and clinging Lorien to the awaiting helicopter.

"Is that little one going to be all right?" asked Anderson.

"Yeah, she was showing the natural signs of shock but Maggie knows what she's doing. I wouldn't be surprised if they'd drugged her as well," replied Reid.

"You people going to join your colleagues in the basement?" asked Tom, "They have found a group of locked rooms…"

Suddenly, they heard the sound of a single gunshot. All the agents were alert and scanned the house from their position. But Tom was already on his cell, indicating for them to wait while he found out what was happening. The team waited ready for action, but this agency they were working with were expertly trained and they acknowledged their superior skills in this situation.

"Josef's shot himself…he's dead, locked himself in his bedroom…pistol in the mouth job…messy!" Tom informed them, "The other staff seem to have put up little resistance. We think it's safe for you to go to the basement now."

A serious looking Director of the FBI gave a brief announcement at 9 o'clock that evening. He stressed the success of the BAU in rescuing an abducted 10 year old girl and others during the smashing of a paedophile ring, run from the exclusive home of Leonid Josef. He informed the public that Josef had shot himself rather than be taken into custody. The Director outlined how a joint operation in New York and Washington with the DEA and IRS had been successful in arresting a major crime ring dealing with drugs, prostitution, extortion and blackmail. The Director said that there would be a much more detailed news conference the next day, at midday. Then his colleagues from the other agencies would also be available to give them a fuller picture of the joint operation and to answer questions.

The team had already been told that the Director would like them to make an appearance at the news conference the next day, but for the moment they all just wanted to go home. They had been successful in rescuing Lorien and 6 Latino girls along with 4 American Caucasian girls, whose families never thought they would see them alive again. The team knew that these girls would all need help for years to come. It was unlikely that the Latino children would be able to safely return home and the families of the American girls were going to face traumatised children whom had become strangers to them, over the time that they had been missing.

The team should have felt triumphant but in truth they were physically and emotionally drained.

Hotchner was grateful for the weight lifted from his work life and told Hayley, that night in bed, that there would be changes but he just wanted to stay in his present position. It had been a successful day and he was immensely proud of his team. He was glad to be home where he tried to forget about the dark world that was his work.

J.J. was grateful that Simon was a good listener: it had been a hell of a day, but going home to Simon's love made it easier for her to cope. What they had found in the basement had appalled her. J. J. was haunted by the faces of those bewildered children who had been confined to their own locked rooms with no contact with one another. Each room had a small bed, table, chair shower, wash basin and toilet. On one wall, there was a T.V. screen that showed them cartoons or films until they were needed. It was a million miles away from J.J.'s own carefree childhood.

Morgan decided to drop in on, Alice, a nursery nurse he'd met a couple of weeks before, her welcoming smile helped to push back the hallowing images of the young girls who had been sex slaves. He did not tell her that he felt disgusted when they had found the bedrooms on the basement level that had been used for the clientele. These had king-sized beds with opulent silk sheets and cushions alongside the braided silk ties, should the clients wish to tie the girls. The walls and ceilings had enormous mirrors so those poor girls could only retreat from the reality of the room by closing their eyes. Morgan had gone outside to the garden and emptied his stomach: he hated cases that dealt with paedophilia.

Meanwhile, Anderson told his wife, Kate, that he really felt valued that day but what he had seen made him feel ashamed to be a man. Kate had held him close and told him that they were going to be parents for the second time. Anderson hoped that he'd always be able to keep his own children safe. Hilton hugged his beloved Betsy and told that it was good to be home. He asked Betsy about her day and enquired when the girls coming for a family weekend before they had to return to the Northwest. Hilton was pleased that they had found the DVDs of the recordings of the activities in the 'client' rooms. At least those poor girls wouldn't be forced to testify, the images were very clear and the men were all going to be prosecuted: pleading guilty would be their best course.

Spencer Reid found his wife making lace in the large reception room at the back of the house.

She smiled and his heart swelled with the sheer joy of seeing her after the emotional distresses of the past few hours. He shut his mind off to all he had seen; they had been successful but he would have no control over the aftermath for the victims. Tomorrow the full enormity of the scandal would break. Spencer sank down on to the brown leather couch beside Catherine. He ached with tiredness; she put aside the lace and snuggled closer to him. Spencer's arms gathered her close and he hugged her, smelling her characteristic old rose perfume. For now, the outside world was forgotten and this home was once more his peaceful refuge.