GAME
Prologue

"The man who has no problems is out of the game" – Elbert Hubbard

'Did you like it?'

'Uh.... Sorry?'

'The game. Did you like it?'

'I thought it was rubbish! Did you get to review it too?'

'Yes. I thought there were some good ideas in it.'

'Oh come on!' she said. 'The whole concept was tired and out dated. That and the fact it was so full of glitches. None of the secret rooms worked, and the end of level three was impossible.'

'Not to an experienced gamer.' he said. 'I liked it.'

She could see he was getting annoyed. 'Each to their own.' she said. 'Just not my kind of game. I prefer adventuring.'

'Well maybe you should stick to them then, and not pass judgement on things you know nothing about!'

She put her hands up in front of her, palms out.

'Hey chill out kid! Just forget it!'

She went to walk away and was surprised at the vitriolic words he spat after her. These gamer geeks – boy some of them were so serious, it was scary.

She tried to ignore it but the episode had spoilt the day and she left the convention early.

-0-0-0-

GAME
Chapter 1
Catch Up

The disused aircraft hangar is in the middle of no where, a sorry remnant of the Second World War.

And perfect

At an equal distance of a hundred yards from the hangar in roughly a circle, twelve crumbling pillboxes expose their interior to the heavens. But even they are useful.

No one ever comes out here, and if they do, I'll kill them. I could do it too, no problem, driven by rage as I am.

It has taken a good few weeks to get everything ready for this. In that time, my rage had not abated. Three years of my life I have devoted to this. Cocky bitch – I'll show her who is the best at this. What the hell does she know about it anyway? Sitting there pressing buttons all day at the beck and call of her bosses – oh yes, I've seen her coming and going, living in that posh apartment – I could do her job with my eyes closed.

We'll see who wins at this game – we'll see!

-0-0-0-

Penelope Garcia looked crossly at the CD that she had slid from the envelope. Honestly, When she said she'd do this she had envisaged playing a few reasonably good games with maybe a glitch or two, but this guy was crap. She dropped the game CD into the drive.

Fifteen minutes later she removed it and returned it to the envelope. The last one from this guy she had said was fundamentally flawed because it was totally unbelievable, out of date with the scenario and glitch hell. This one didn't even read properly.

Oh boy this guy has a lot to learn.

She grabbed her coat (Purple tweed with a string of matching beads) and bag (Cerise with bright yellow straw flowers) and left her apartment. Locking to door behind her, she went to her car, slipping the game disk into her bag. She'd post it later.

By the time she had fought through the rush hour traffic (although it should be a rush six hours in the morning back to back with the rush six hours of the evening) and arrived at work she had forgotten her frustrations with the Guy who called himself Gamagic and was tensed up enough for serial killer work.

Eight women in eight states. A clean killer, left no DNA and didn't mutilate the bodies. He left them with their hands crossed over their breasts in what was a show of remorse. They were raped but with a condom and then manually strangled – All were tall skinny red heads. Morgan was telling her how they arrived at the profile – something that always fascinated her, especially coming from Morgan. Just about everything he did fascinated her; from entering a room to profiling killers.

'A business man who travels a lot – that much is obvious. The women represent someone in his life – mother, sister, girlfriend – someone he is dominated or intimidated by, and with these women he has the chance to dominate when he can't dominate the one represented. He is therefore a quiet guy who is pushed around a lot. He believes that he could have been something if not for this woman in his life.'

'So will he have a menial job then?'

'Yes probably. There would have been something that triggered the behaviour. He was probably a flasher, or a peeper, someone who liked to frighten women. He has a record for sex crimes, but always stopped short of rape. He has escalated to murder about eight months ago. That is when we will find the stressor. In his life we will find a tall thin red head who pushes him around, who he despises'

'It seems so easy when you explain it. But I would never have worked all that out!'

She sipped her coffee and looked flirtily over the rim of the cup and he flashed his eyes flirtily back. She had never met a man like him before. There was such a deep love between them, but there could never be any more than friendship. And that was how she wanted it.

One day, when he was ready to settle down, well maybe then, but that was a long way off in the future. For now, Derek Morgan was the best friend she had and probably ever would have.

She was meeting Kevin later. It was time for her to go home. Hotch had said they must all go home and get some sleep. Tomorrow they were going to be flying out to the first crime scene, and he had said he wanted Garcia to sleep too. There was a lot to be done, and he wanted his team on top form. She had called Kevin to say she had the evening off, and he was delighted, and said he would pick her up later.

She smiled as she went down to the car park. She was humming a tune to herself – one she had heard coming from one of the offices on her way down. She threw her bag in the back with her coat, and slid into the driver's seat. She turned the radio on and pushed a CD into the holder. 'The Very best of Glam Rock.' She drove up the ramp to Brian Connolly singing Wig Wam Bam.

-0-0-0-

There she goes, cocky blonde tart. I've seen how she flirts with the big black guy. It's pitiful. I've seen how she revels in a 'well done' from that know it all boss of hers. How I hate them all, flashing their badges and thinking they are better than everyone else. My Daddy was as good as them. He could have done their jobs. I'll be great one day, and Daddy will be pleased. He thinks games are stupid. But they aren't. And I'll show him.

I will follow her. The car will break down just outside town if I've set the timer right. And I have. Then I can come to her rescue. Boy will she be surprised to see me. If she remembers me. Snooty cow probably won't remember though. It was a few weeks back when we met.

I've been busy since then.

I follow her car up the ramp. There are two cars between. I let some more pass before I join the traffic. I don't need to tail her. I know where she lives.

I can just see her. There are about eight cars between us now and some nob head is right up my arse trying to get by. I slow down so he can pass. What a jerk. If I wasn't so busy I'd sort him out. Think they own the road some people!

There she goes, left at the lights. They change before I get there and more cars get between us.

Yeah I know I said it didn't matter, but now I can't even see her, and I don't want to go sailing past her, I want to stop behind her and offer my kind assistance.

Ha! I can't wait to bring her down a peg or two into the gutter where her type should be.

There she is. Stopped by the side of the road. Just past a turning on the right. I turn up the road and stop the car.

Who the bloody hell is that? Someone else has stopped behind her.

No!

No!

-0-0-0-

Garcia stood by her car and stared at it. It had started to loose power a mile back, and coming along here, it had cut out completely. She got out her cell.

Crap. Now she would be late for Kevin. And her work had made her wary of asking strangers for help. When Hotch pulled up behind her she smiled with relief.

'It just cut out. I was about to call a cab.'

'I'm not even going to ask if you have petrol.' Hotch said with a flash of his eyebrows which actually said 'Do you have petrol?'

She laughed. 'I have petrol. I filled him up today.'

'Him?' Hotch said as he pulled the lever to open the hood. He stared blankly and closed it again.

'I don't know why I did that. My mechanic skill is on a par with my cooking.' he said. 'I'll drive you home rather than call a cab. I'll get the bureau car pool mechanics to tow it back and fix it.'

'Ah would you?' she said, a little embarrassed by it all. 'Thank you.'

(Wow! A lift home with Hotch!)

'No!'

The man ran out of no where. Hotch swung round to see who was behind him, his hand going for his gun. But the Krook-Lok smacked the side of his head and he was down before he could even see what was going to happen. Garcia froze to the spot.

What the hell?............

'Pick him up!'

'Wha........?'

'I said pick him up you stupid deaf tart.' He raised the weapon again as if to hit her. She bent down next to Hotch, not taking her tear filled eyes off the man in front of her.

She rolled Hotch onto his back and put her hands under his arms. With a struggle – she wasn't required to pass a physical for her job with the FBI – she stood up holding him with his head on her shoulder. She felt the warmth of his blood seep through her dress.

'My car is round the corner. Now walk.'

She glanced around. They were outside town now, and there weren't many cars about. And no one on foot.

With difficulty she half carried half dragged Hotch round the corner to where this man's car was waiting. He opened the trunk.

'Now drop him in.'

'He'll suff....'

'I said drop him in or I'll just kill him here!'

He raised the Krook-Lok above his head and stepped forwards.

'Ok! I'll do it!' she said. With her back to the man she as gently as she could, lowered Hotch into the trunk. She held the back of his head with her hand and rested him on his side with his knees bent up. The man shoved her aside and she thought about running. But then he would drive off with Hotch and she couldn't decide what to do and she hesitated. The man removed both Hotch's guns, and pointed one at Garcia. Her choice was made.

'Close the trunk.'

Garcia sobbed as she shut the lid on Hotch.

'He won't be able to breathe.' she said.

'Then he should sleep quite soundly then.'

Actually, he was quite pleased. This plan could be a lot more fun with the two of them!

He poked the gun in Garcia's ribs.

'Get in the car. You are driving'

'Please, let's take mine.'

'Get in the god damned car.' and he cocked the gun and moved it to her head. Man this was fun!

She opened the driver's door and sat in the seat. She turned the key and fired the engine. He got in behind her and stuck Hotch's gun in the back of her neck, throwing the Krook-Lok out onto the pavement along with the gloves he was wearing.

'Now drive.'

Garcia drove along the road away from the town.