Chapter One

"JJ please. I just … can't right now."

Emily Prentiss sat down at her desk in the bullpen. She was tired, physically, and especially emotionally. The team had just flown back from a horrendous case. One that had particularly affected Prentiss, much more than she was willing to admit.

"Emily, I know you aren't ready to talk, but I saw how you reacted at that crime scene. You didn't even want to participate on the interview with the perp. It's totally unlike you. I know something's wrong. Spill."

Emily looked at JJ's concerned, yet determined face. JJ may sometimes seem like the weakest of the team, but she was far stronger than she appeared. Emily knew she had to give JJ something to get her off of her back.

"This case …. it brings back some old memories, things that I would really rather forget. It's not a big deal, after a few days … I'll be fine. I just need some time. I'm really ok JJ. I just took this case a little more personally than I should."

"Ok Emily, you know that stuffing things away to the back of your mind isn't always the best way to handle things. I know that compartmentalization is your go to defense mechanism, but you know that you can always speak to me. I will always be here for you. Anytime. I just worry about you Em. You can't just lock things up and expect them to not spill out sometimes. Ok?"

Emily looked at JJ and felt such gratitude. She knew that she had a true friend in JJ, but there were some things that she just couldn't tell anyone.

"Ok JJ."

She looked around at the rest of the team, all busy finishing paperwork and celebrating a successful end to the case. JJ joined them, leaving Emily alone at her desk.

The truth of the matter was that Emily really didn't know why this case affected her so deeply. It was a typical case, as far as the BAU was concerned. Several young women had gone missing and had eventually turned up dead and mutilated. Seeing those girls, so beaten and broken, lying discarded on the ground, had struck a cord. She wanted to destroy the bastard that had done this to them. However, her rage died and turned to fear when she finally met up with the unsub, face to face. She wasn't able to be in the same room with him, much less conduct an interview and obtain a confession. She had left that task to Morgan, who gladly accepted.

She was not used to feeling this way. She was SSA Prentiss. Emily Prentiss. Known to be strong and handle anything that came her way.

She shook her head trying to clear her thoughts.

"Hey guys!" Morgan called out, "I say that we go out and celebrate tonight. Some good food, some good drinks. Come on what you guys say? I know that I certainly could use a drink after that case."

A chorus of approval followed his words and plans were made to meet up at the local bar that the team liked to frequent.

Emily slowly arranged her paperwork and packed her bag.

"I think I'm going to sit this one out guys."

"Oh come on Emily, come with us!" Rossi insisted.

Emily waved her hand back at the group and explained that she just wanted to get home and get some sleep. They finally gave up cajoling her and she edged out of the room.

She hadn't really lied, she thought to herself as she walked. She was tired. She wanted nothing more than to crawl in bed and snuggle with the only man in her life she really cared for, her cat, Sergio. She couldn't wait for her next four days off to do nothing except watch TV, cook, and catch up on her reading. She really did need this break.

As she walked toward her car, she was thinking of all of all the other ways she was going to spend her next few days off, when she felt an arm wrap around her neck, and a knife poised against her chest.

"Say a word, make even a sound, and I will plunge this knife in your chest. Do you understand?"

She nodded her head. She tried to think of a way out of this situation. She knew she had to fight, but Emily was smart, she wouldn't make a move until she was certain that it would give her the upper hand.

He started walking her toward a black unmarked working van.

Emily knew her best chance at getting away would be when he tried to unlock the door. He would have to remove one arm from her to unlatch the door. It would be then that she would try to escape. She tensed, ready to make her move.

What she didn't expect was that the man had an automatic door opener already in the hand of the arm wrapped around her neck. He roughly shoved her inside of the door and before she had a chance to turn around and kick the man in the face, he pulled out a Taser, and all Emily knew was black.

Emily awoke to her head throbbing. She was laying on a cold, concrete floor, with one wrist handcuffed to a metal ring protruding from the side of the concrete wall she was laying against. Her wrist was chaffed, clearly even in her sleep she had tried to unconsciously free herself.

She looked around, trying to see any hope of escape. She was in a small room, with the one illumination coming from a lone uncovered light bulb. She decided she had to be underground, in some sort of basement, considering the condensation that was pooling around the corners of the room. There was one door, which to her eyes looked fortified. It seemed that even if she were able to free herself from the wall she was cuffed to, she would still have to find a way to get through that door. And who knew what was on the other side.

Completing the room was something that Agent Prentiss did not want to consider. In the far corner, there was a single mattress, made up with immaculate white sheets that very much stood out in the dank and dirty room. On the wall at the head of the mattress, another ring similar to the one she was currently cuffed to, hung loosely.

Because there was no window, she had no way to determine what time it was, and more importantly, where she was. She had no idea how long she had been unconscious in the van. He could have driven hours away from BAU headquarters. She had no way to figure this out, and even she did, she didn't really know what she would have done with that information.

She suppressed a shudder from the chill in the room and crossed and rubbed her arms. She was freezing. She looked down and realized that her shoes and socks were gone. He feet were nearly blue from the cold.

From her training, she knew that her best chance to get out of this alive was to cooperate as much as possible with whoever was holding her captive, lull them into believing that she was passive and cowed, and then make a run for it. The man who took her was superior in strength and size. She didn't stand a chance against him physically, especially handcuffed. She had to be smart about this.

What worried her most about her current situation was that no one would know she was missing for at least four days after she was taken. Her time off was her free time, her alone time. She cherished her days not spent dealing with death and all things associated, including her team. When she was off duty, she was notorious for not answering her phone or simply turning it off. One such time, she had awoken in the early hours of the morning to her boss, Agent Hotchner, banging down her door because they had caught a very time sensitive case.

However, the likelihood of the team having landed a case so soon after finishing one was slim. Emily knew she could not count on her team to realize she was gone. She was on her own. She would not be missed. The feeling was terrifying.

At the sound of footsteps descending stairs, Emily's head snapped up. Her entire body tensed against the wall. She heard a lock disengage, then another, and then another. Finally the door handle moved and the door opened. The man whom she assumed was the one who had taken her outside of the BAU entered, and she saw his face clearly for the first time.

He was middle aged, mid to late forties she decided. He was tall, 6'3" at least, and muscular enough to fill the build. This was a man she would never be able to beat in a fight, or ever outrun. Fear settled deeply in her chest. He turned his back to her as he reengaged every lock.

He turned back around and examined her with dark and unkind eyes, for the first time. He said nothing as she sat under his intense gaze. Emily wrapped her arms around her chest protectively. After several tense moments he spoke.

"You are fighter. I know this about you. It will make things … much more interesting."

Emily looked him straight in the eye and hissed, "You know nothing about me."

In a level voice he answered, "On the contrary, I know a great deal about you Emily. A very great deal. And I have been waiting a long time for this moment. Welcome to your last and final home. You should know, you are never leaving this room alive. "

He moved toward her and Emily pressed herself even farther against the wall. He softly laughed at her attempts to back away from him. He knew as well as she that there was nowhere for her to go.

"Why did you bring me here, why are you doing this to me?" Emily asked in a voice that was shriller than she liked.

He squatted down and looked at her square in the eye.

"I'm doing this for two reasons. I'll tell you because I am a reasonable man, and because I feel that you deserve to know. I was paid to do this. Paid very well. You see, I am the person that people call when they need things taken care of. Disposed of. I make sure certain … shall we say … problems disappear."

Emily rapidly went through in her head all of the people she had pissed off in her previous life in Interpol. The list was not short. She had no way to know which one.

"It's no one you know personally. I can see you are trying to figure it out. Honestly, if I were capable of feeling pity, I would pity you. All of this is because of your mother. You probably know nothing about any of this. You're practically innocent here, a pawn in a much larger game to manipulate your mother's dealings in the Middle East."

Emily almost laughed, but she stopped herself short and began, "Then your employer is a very stupid man. My mother will not change her course in politics for anyone … even me. She is ruthless in her own way. This will infuriate her yes, but only because it is an insult against her, not for any love for me. They will accomplish nothing by doing this."

The man gazed at the ceiling, where Prentiss noticed a red blinking light from a small camera for the first time.

"Well, if that is so, then there is even more reason to pity you. I have been paid, I have my reasons, I will accomplish this task. A video of what you will endure and you subsequent death will be mailed to your mother's office."

"You've only mentioned one reason. What's the other?" Emily asked.

"Oh, well that's an easy answer." He looked her dead in the eye and smiled. "I've wanted to fuck you ever since I first laid eyes on you."

The man stood and crossed the rest of the distance between them. He stood in front of her and dug in his pocket producing the Taser gun that he had used on her before.

"Now, I'm going to give you a choice. You can come quietly, or I can stun you. What do you choose?"

Emily looked down at the floor and said, "I won't do anything."

He smiled, bent down and produced a key out of his shirt pocket, unlocked her cuff and freed her arm. Emily didn't waste a second. She struck the moment her hand was free and she had deadly accurate aim.

When she worked for Interpol, she had been a part of some extremely dangerous missions. As part of her training, she luckily had some advanced martial arts training. The training paid off.

She knew the moment her fist struck his face that she had broken his nose. She also knew that she had not done enough damage to knock him out outright, which had been her intention. Instead, he looked furious.

He grabbed both of her arms tightly and forcefully, twisted them behind her pack and pushed her face against the wall. The pain was excruciating. She knew that with just slightly more force, he would dislocate both of her arms. She cried out in pain.

"That was a mistake which you are now going to pay for," he yelled hoarsely.

He pushed her across the room toward the mattress, threw her on the bed, and then sat on her with his knee pressed into her chest. All of her air was forced from her lungs. He leaned forward, grabbing both of her wrists, threaded the handcuffs through the ring on the wall and locked her in. He removed his knew from her chest but continued sitting on her waist. He looked down at her with fury in his eyes as blood dripped from his nose and Emily felt for the first time since arriving in the basement, full and unequivocal terror.

She knew what was going to happen next. She knew that she was powerless to stop it.

His hands started sliding underneath her shirt, fumbling underneath her bra. When he first touched her breast he squeezed tightly and sneered, "You're mine now. You are all mine. "

He removed his hands from underneath her shirt, and began to unbutton her shirt. Eventually tired of it, he simply ripped the shirt, popping off the buttons. From his back pocket he produced a pocketknife, which he used to cut up her sleeves, leaving him free to remove her shirt entirely.

Emily shivered at the sudden rush of cold air against her bare skin. Her skin prickled and her hairs rose on her arms. Emily could feel a rising panic beginning to gather. She desperately didn't want to lose control, but she knew that fear could quickly overwhelm a person, and she was no exception. She was not prepared for this. Tears began to leak from the sides of her eyes.

The man drew the knife lazily against her stomach and up her side to the strap of her bra. He quickly slipped the knife underneath strap and then the other, cutting them suddenly. He leaned into her, put one hand at the small of her back and gently lifted. The other hand slipped deftly behind her back and undid her bra. He threw it across the room, and then looked back down.

Under his gaze, if it were even possible, Emily's terror grew even worse.

He moved off her suddenly, and she sucked in a deep breath. He stayed on his knees and moved to unzip her pants. Emily started kicking violently, yelling and screaming as she did so. It was not long however, before she was able to grab both of her legs and hold them down as he viciously tore her pants from her body. In one grab he tore off her underwear, and she was fully naked in front of him.

The panic that had been threatening to overwhelm her finally did. She started begging him, pleading with him, to not hurt her. To please let her go. The tears, which before had only leaked from her eyes, were now falling steadily. He began laughing at her and she felt a new feeling, humiliation.

In the BAU, and the FBI in general, agents were prepared for certain circumstances. Incidents such as hostage situations are discussed endlessly. This, however, was never talked about in any class, or written of in any required textbook in the academy. What do you do, how do you cope, when you know you are about to be raped and you are absolutely powerless to stop it.

He laughed at her helplessness, reveled in it. He had watched her for days and knew that she was one hell of a strong woman. He loved knowing that he was the one to reduce her to this. Watching her work on that case had pleased him greatly, how uncomfortable she was in the presence of rape, he knew he had found her weakness. From that he knew how to cause her the most pain. That is what he loved. Inflicting pain. The sexual gratification of the rape was only a side effect, albeit a pleasurable one.

He reached down and unzipped his own jeans, pulling down his pants and boxers.

Emily began hyperventilating, struggling against her restraints and desperately trying to kick and make contact with anything. The man placed his body on top of hers. His weight was crushing, and he did nothing to lessen it on top of her. He put one hand at her throat and another to stabilize himself. She could feel his hardness pressing into her belly.

Within seconds he had inserted himself inside her and began forcefully thrusting. Emily continued to struggle, but the pain became unbearable. She could feel wetness down there and knew that it was blood. She closed her eyes and clenched her fists and tried to remain as still as possible, hoping to lessen the pain and damage that was being inflicted upon her. He noticed her lack of movement and squeezed his hand around her neck.

"Fight back, or I make this worse for you."

Emily obeyed.

When he finally finished, he laid his massive weight on top of her. He stayed that way for a few minutes until the point that she thought he may have fallen asleep.

It was Sunday, JJ had just dropped Henry off at his play date, and she was finally free to enjoy herself. Will was still gone investigating a case, so she had the next few hours on her own. She missed Will, but she couldn't complain considering her schedule was even more erratic and time consuming than his.

At least she had someone waiting for her, checking up on her. She thought of Emily, who went home alone after every case, unless you counted Sergio. JJ couldn't imagine doing that, being so alone. She needed someone to hash things out with and process all of the horrors that they witnessed through their job. Will kept her sane and grounded. But Emily wasn't like the rest of the team, at least except for Hotch. Together those two seemed unstoppable. JJ admired their visible strength, but knew that they sacrificed a lot in their personal lives to achieve the success that they had.

She hadn't heard from Em at all since they had last spoken Friday at the BAU. Though this wasn't entirely out of character for Emily, JJ still was worried. Emily was the kind of person who was never bothered by cases. Nothing ever got through that skin of hers. It stood in stark contrast to how she handled the last case. It disturbed JJ to remember how lost and almost scared she had seemed. Something clearly was up with her, and JJ felt that it was her responsibility to figure out what. She wasn't going to let her off so easily this time.

I have a few hours so what does it hurt to go talk to her, JJ thought. She drove over to Emily's complex and rang the doorbell. No answer. She stood there knocking for a while, but was about to leave when a neighbor exited the adjoining apartment.

"I don't think she's home" the woman hollered out. "I'm Joanne, I'm Emily's neighbor as you can see. I haven't seen her for a while. I thought she hadn't gotten back from her case yet?"

"She hasn't been back at all since Friday?"

"Nope, haven't seen her. I take care of her cat when she goes out for long cases. She hasn't gotten her key back and I would have been able to tell if she had been in her apartment recently."

"Ok thank you."

JJ walked away disturbed. It was very odd for Prentiss to not have gone straight home after the case. If anything could be said about Emily, it would be that she was a cat lover, and no one was before Sergio in her eyes. She loved that cat more than anything.

JJ decided to try to backtrack her movements starting at the BAU. She made the short drive over, and pulled into the parking lot. She noticed immediately that Emily's car was still there. She parked next to it and got out.

The first thing she saw in her cursory examination of the area was Prentiss' keycard. She never kept it in her bag; it was always clipped to her pant pockets. The buggers were extremely difficult to unclip which is why most people either just kept them in their pockets or bags, but not Emily.

JJ's apprehension grew. She knew that it would only be able to come off if it was torn off. She tried to think of all the other ways this could have occurred and came up blank. She knew that Emily would have noticed if she lost the card. Emily was conscientious. She never would have left without it. Not to mention that you needed the key card to exit the parking lot.

She turned and looked with a keen eye at the area around her. She had the dawning realization that she was mostly likely standing in a crime scene involving her best friend. She quickly pulled out her phone and called her team.

JJ was nearly frantic by the time everyone arrived. She straightened up when she saw Agent Hotchner, and then reported everything she knew.

Hotchner gathered his wits and started barking out orders. Garcia was sent inside to review that security tapes. Morgan secured what they believed to be the crime scene and called for some backup. Rossi went up to Hotch.

"This doesn't look good, Hotchner. Emily is not a careless person; she would never have left her card behind. Anyway, who would have picked her up? We all saw how she was on Friday. She was definitely going home ... alone."

"I know Rossi. This doesn't feel right."

Hotch's phone rang. Garcia's normally high and bubbly voice was subdued and quiet. "Hotch, there are some things on the security tape that you need to see."

"We will be right there, Garcia."

He called the team over. "Garcia has found something on the tapes. We need to go evaluate it now. Morgan, is everything secure?"

After ensuring that nothing would be disturbed and the CSI team was on the way, the team moved toward the elevator and went to Garcia's office.

Garcia turned from her desk and looked at the team. "It's not good. It's actually really, really bad. Emily is in a lot of trouble."

"Baby girl, just play the tape." Morgan squatted down next to Garcia. "You don't have to watch it again if you don't want to."

Garcia pressed play.

The team watched as Emily walked out the bullpen, and into the elevator. Even through the grainy black and white video, as she exited into the parking garage, they could all see that she was distracted. They saw a figure approach her from behind, but it was clear to them all that Prentiss did not. They watched as he clutched at her throat and place a knife over her chest. They watched him walk her toward a dark colored van and witnessed her failed attempt to flee. They saw the key card fall unnoticed to the ground. Garcia had tears streaming down her face as Emily was tazed, and her limp body arranged in the back of the van. They watched him pull out of the garage and take their friend.

They began working in a desperate fury. They were going to find her no matter how long or difficult it would be. Failure would not be an option.

Elizabeth Prentiss moved through the halls of her ambassadorship as if she were a queen. She walked into her office and barked an order at her secretary to retrieve the daily mail. She sifted through the important missives and came upon a slim envelope containing a flash drive. She frowned, unaccustomed to data being sent to her this way. She looked for the address of the sender, but saw none. She shrugged, assuming that the envelope had arrived inside of a larger package, which she guessed would have the name of the sender, which her secretary must have thrown out. She plugged in the drive and waited for the files to open. She reminded herself to scold her secretary for such carelessness later.

The drive opened, showing a single video file. She clicked on it, expecting there to be a record of some conference she had missed, or meeting that was considered pertinent enough for her to have a record on hand. Instead, what she found horrified her.

The first image she saw was of her only child, her daughter Emily, chained against a wall. There was no sound on the video, just silence. Emily clearly was afraid, Elizabeth could see that, but she was trying to contain it. She wasn't being very successful. She watched as a man entered the room, speak to her, and unlock her from the wall. Emily struggled, hitting the man square in the nose. Elizabeth knew the strength of those punches first hand, but it did nothing to save her daughter. She witnessed the man drag her daughter across the room to a mattress, rip her clothes off of her frantically fighting body, and savagely rape her.

The tape cut out as the man was getting off of her child. It went to a black screen with these words flashing across.

"This is for what happened in Iran. You will never see your daughter alive again."

The ambassador began to scream.

Shortly after reviewing the surveillance footage of Emily being taken, the BAU received a frantic phone call from Emily Prentiss' mother asking what the hell was going on and what they were doing to get her daughter back. She gave them a brief account of what she had seen on the video that had been sent to her and emailed a copy of it to them.

She had seemed terrified on the phone while talking to Agent Hotchner, which was entirely uncharacteristic of the ambassador. Her usual calm and unwavering demeanor, which was even more present in times of crisis, was gone. Hotchner had known the woman for years, and he had never known her to be so shaken.

The team gathered to watch the tape. They had all believed seeing Emily be taken was terrible, but this made the kidnapping seem almost mundane. Garcia couldn't even watch the tape; JJ flinched at every blow Emily took. Morgan and Rossi watched, feeling seething hatred for the man who was doing this to her. Hotchner, however, in contrast to his team, did not blink once during the entire showing. He felt he owed it to Emily to know everything that had happened to her, so that he may better the chances of finding her. He scanned the images looking for any clue, anything to point him in the right direction. He finally found what he was looking for.