Hotch frowned at the sound of his cell-phone chirping. He picked it up;
"Hotchner," he said shortly; he didn't recognise the number.
"Oh, hi, my name's D.B Russell. I'm a CSI supervisor, Graveyard shift out in Vegas? You're the BAU Unit Chief, right?" he waited for confirmation.
"Yes that's right. How can I help you?"he could see a trip to Vegas in his future; but not the fun kind.
"We've been asked to bring in the FBI to assist on a rape case here in Vegas," D.B continued;
"I heard you were the man to call,"
"A rape case?" A serial?" Hotch frowned;
"No, it's an isolated incident," he added,
"I don't understand. Why would this be a BAU case? We profile serial killers, sometimes rapists but only serial cases," Hotch replied, mildly irritated at having his time wasted;
"The victim's father asked for you personally. I hear you're old friends," D.B added, he was cheerful in an ironic sort of way.
"Friends? I don't have any friends in Vegas," Hotch added with a sigh.
"Really? Huh. Well that's peculiar; Vincent Renway insists he knows you,"
"Vince? Well I know Vince, but he's not from Vegas,"
"Not originally, no but he lives here now and this is a high profile case,"
"Why high profile?" Hotch's interest had been piqued;
"Vincent Renway is the Governor of Nevada now, don't you read the news?" D.B asked, shocked that someone who claimed to be a friend hadn't know about Vince's election, and subsequent exploits. Hotch shook his head and answered;
"I don't. I see too much working this job, I don't need to see it before and after work too,"
D.B nodded;
"I get ya," he replied;
"Anyways, how soon can you get here? Bring your team too; Nick and Greg could use some little helpers in the field," he chuckled to himself.
"Well, the flight's four hours, give or take...I'd say we could be with you in six hours; I need to round up my team. I'll brief them on the jet, and get them accustomed. How long does it take to get from the airport to the Crime Lab?" Hotch questioned, his mind working away in the background of the conversation;
"About thirty minutes or so. I'll have Nick and Greg come and pick you up. How many of you are there?" D.B took a pen out of his shirt pocket and commenced to take down the details as Hotch was speaking;
"Myself, Reid, Prentiss, JJ and Morgan. We can reach Garcia; our Technical Analyst via satellite. JJ is our Media Liaison and she will be happy to discuss media coverage with your Undersheriff,"
"So five of you?" he deduced.
"Yes, Rossi is out on vacation and Blake is out sick, so just the five of us," Hotch concluded.
"Great, I've sent all the details we currently have to your work email, see you soon," D.B clicked off of the call and walked into the warren of corridors the Las Vegas Crime Lab had to offer. He sent a quick page to Nick, Sara and Greg for them to meet him in the board room. One by one they filtered in; Sara with her coffee, Greg with a sandwich, and sat down.
"I thought you wanted us to go and check the Renway house for evidence?" Greg spoke between mouthfuls of chicken mayo. D.B nodded;
"I do, but we can't do anything until the FBI get here Greg, I told you that," he frowned;
"Since when do we follow protocol to the letter?" Nick said, nonchalantly.
"Since Undersheriff Ecklie said so," he rolled his eyes in disgust; not one of the team liked Conrad Ecklie, he was a snake in the grass. Morgan Brody walked into the board room and sat between Sara and Greg;
"The Feds here yet?" she asked straight-forwardly.
"Not yet, and we can't process or conduct a search until they do; it's protocol," D.B repeated his earlier statement.
"Um, why don't we do what we always do? Screw protocol and let them get over themselves?" She played with the end of a piece of her hair as she spoke; her tone lased with boredom and apathy. She looked at each of the CSIs, then rolled her eyes;
"Oh, let me guess; my father being all high and mighty again?" she shook her head; Morgan disliked her father more than anyone else on the team, and with good reason. D.B sighed, and nodded;
"This is total B.S," Morgan leaned her head on Greg's shoulder and sighed, defeated. He put his arm around her and stroked it softly; it was a well-known fact that they were now something of an item. D.B shared her sigh;
"Don't I know it! That's just how it is though; we can all find some work to do until the BAU arrive, we have thirty open cases, so let's go and do what the city pays us for hmm?"
Hotch walked down the stairs and out into the warren of desks in the mezzanine. He addressed his whole team;
"Wheels up in thirty guys, we're going to Vegas," he said, matter-of-factly.
"Whooo Vegas!" Morgan smirked and whooped.
"For a case Morgan, not for shots, gambling and strippers,"
"Aww damn. Hey Reid, you gonna visit your mom whilst we're there?" he turned to face Spencer, all traces of mirth now gone;
"I'm not entirely sure, more than likely, it's been quite a while. Yes being the uh, short answer," he chuckled awkwardly, his bashfulness abundant. He turned to Hotch;
"So uh, what's the case Hotch?" he cleared his throat, and tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear;
"It's a rape case, no serial, a friend of mine; Vince Renway's daughter," Reid interrupted him;
"You're friends with the Governor of Nevada?" he looked up at Hotch, clearly impressed by his connections.
"He's an old friend from college. Anyway, his daughter was raped, but she's not talking," he began reading from the PDA he had in his hand; D.B had forwarded the case notes to his email, as promised.
"So we're flying four hours to talk to a girl, who doesn't want to talk about what happened?" Morgan sounded more uncaring than he'd actually meant to.
"Yes we are," Hotch replied, shortly;
"Get your go bags and be on the jet in fifteen minutes," he added, checking his watch. They nodded one by one and began to disperse.
