(This story just kept butting in, while I was trying to work on Prentiss and the NCIS Agent. It is a slight crossover with Without A Trace and NCIS—in that I borrowed a couple of characters. It's a bit different than any fanfix I've read, and I'm really interested in what you all think…Thanks and ENJOY…)

24 Hours

PROLOGUE

MAY 2005 SOUTHERN INDIANA CEMETARY

She looked at the coffin, admitting to herself what she'd tried to deny for the past three days. Kate was dead. Her best friend, the one person she'd always felt close to was gone. Shot down by a terrorist on the roof of some warehouse.

Gone, in less than a blink of an eye.

When had been the last time she'd even spoken to Kate? To Sage, Elena, Jazz, or Alex? A year? Two?

Why had she been so stupid?

Now she'd never be able to speak to her friend again. Never, and she only had herself to blame.

Emily turned to the other women beside her. "We never should have lost touch. It was stupid."

"It was." Elena agreed, her softly accented voice thick with unshed tears. She couldn't let them free—FBI Agents didn't cry at funerals. It wasn't done. "Why did we?"

"Fear." Sage said. "We let him do this to us."

"It's too late for Kate, but not for us." Alex said bluntly, "I think we should promise not to let this happen to another one of us."

"She died Line of Duty," Jazz stated, as the five women stood off to the sidelines. The small Indiana cemetery was filled with obvious government officials present to pay their last respects to the former Secret service agent who'd spent the last two years working for NCIS.

"I know that. I'm talking about our friendship." Alex argued. "We have no one to blame but ourselves for what we've allowed to happen since him."

"We've lost Kate." Emily continued. "I don't want to lose anyone else."

"Me either," Sage said. "I've missed you guys."

"So we're agreed?" Emily asked. "Friends again?"

"We've always been friends, but before we were family." Elena said, as they watched Caitlyn's team walk away from the fresh grave followed by Kate's family. Jazz music floated above the mourners, a happy, snazzy tune, that suited Kate to a tee.

"Meet back here in an hour?" Sage said. "Throw Kate a little send off of our own?"

"I'll bring the beer." Elena said. "Sage, you bring the camera."

And they did, five women dressed in jeans and college sweatshirts, guzzling beer and the most expensive wine Emily could find; laughing about the old times, propped up against the brand new tombstone with the words Caitlyn Todd, a dedicated agent, friend, and daughter—you will be missed emblazoned across the black stone.

And he stood with his own camera, and watched them.

CHAPTER ONE

MARCH 12 2008 9:47 PM

Emily had her house key ready before she even stepped up to her door. It wasn't necessary. She was only three feet away when she realized the door was standing wide open. Her hand immediately dropped to her weapon, removing it soundlessly from the holster at her waist, flipping the safety off as she did so.

A fleeting thought that maybe she should call the break-in into the local authorities, but she continued anyway. She slid around the door, checking each corner of her condo.

It was trashed, but empty. She removed her cell phone from her waist, ready to call in the B&E when she spotted the zip drive taped to the mirror in her foyer. An arrow was drawn in something red and pointing directly toward it.

She pulled it free, careful not to touch anything that could hold prints.

Somehow she didn't think this was just a simple B&E. She hurried back to her car after picking up her laptop from the concrete where she'd sat it. She waited anxiously for it to boot up, grateful Penelope had tweaked the system to make it faster than factory default.

She slid the drive into a USB port and waited for it to auto-play. When it did, her blood chilled and her breath froze.

It took her several minutes to regain her composure. She knew what the message meant—and knew it was from.

She knew what she had to do.

She emailed the video to the one person she knew she could trust to help her no matter what, no questions asked.

NCISBAUWATNCISBAUNCISBAUWAT

Derek Morgan liked the honeys—and the honeys liked him. So why shouldn't he make them all happy? He thought as he danced with the three dark haired beauties who'd pulled him from his spot in the booth he'd been sharing with Rossi, Reid, and Hotch.

Hotch's ex had informed him she was dating someone else. A lawyer—not a secret agent man.

So here they were, trying to cheer the man up. Not that he seemed that down, to Derek's way of thinking.

Derek was seriously considering the odds of at least one of his dance partners heading home with him for the night when his cell phone beeped. He considered ignoring it—but something stopped him.

It was his work phone, and only his colleagues knew the number—and his mother.

If someone was calling him at ten at night, it probably wasn't a good thing. He read the message quickly, stopping there on the dance floor to the annoyance of his dance partners.

"I gotta go, ladies. A friend's in trouble. I have to go play hero." He smiled, though it was obvious his attention was not on his companions. Instead he was seriously worried. Emily Prentiss never asked for help—and what did she mean by St. Louis?

He headed back to the table where his friends sat. Reid and Rossi were debating some obscure facts while Hotch just sat there, staring at his beer.

"We got a problem." Derek said, tersely, immediately getting their attention. "Something's up at Emily's. We need to get there fast."

"What?" Reid asked.

"Em just texted me, saying 9-1-1 at her place and that she needed help. I'm not goin' to just sit here." Derek said, impatient.

That was all it took, as Hotch and Reid remembered the situation they'd experienced first with Elle and then with Penelope just a few short months ago.

Within two minutes they were piled into Hotch's SUV and speeding toward Annandale and Prentiss's home. Derek started to give directions to her place, but Hotch told him it wasn't necessary, that he'd been there before.

Hotch pulled the vehicle to a screeching stop beside two marked units from the DC police. They ignored the flashing lights and the officer posted to keep onlookers out. Hotch flashed his bag, and barked "We'll take it from here. It's my agent's place."

"Yes, sir." The young man said, waving the four men past the yellow tape.

Derek was the first to push past the local LEOs as he bolted through the door to Emily's place. The once immaculate condo was trashed. He and Hotch started on the first floor, ignoring the local cops after flashing their badges. Reid and Rossi took the upstairs—Emily's bedroom, office and bath.

Derek was the first to see the red arrow painted on the mirror, that and the question painted beneath it. Miss me, Princess? This is for Kate.

"Morgan, what exactly did Prentiss's message say?" Hotch asked, reading the words over Morgan's shoulder. "Do you know who Kate is?"

"Yes." Morgan said. "A friend of Em's who died L.O.D. before she transferred to our team."

He pulled the message up on his phone's screen and showed the message to Hotch.

"St. Louis?" Hotch demanded. He knew that was where Prentiss had been assigned several years ago, but whatever she'd been referring to—it wasn't in her file.

"Some asshole she'd worked with. Attacked her and her friends one night." Morgan said, not comfortable with sharing Emily's private confidences with their boss. "Hurt her pretty bad. He was obsessed with her friend Kate. He broke in, Kate wasn't home—he went after what was available. Emily got lucky, Hotch. A couple of friends stopped by and heard her screaming."

"And now he's back?" Hotch asked, almost physically sick as his mind filled in what Derek was leaving out. And with the horror he'd seen in his job—every image he could think of was more horrible than the last.

"I don't know. But I need to check my email. Fast." Morgan said.

"Reid!" Hotch yelled, getting the young genius's attention where he stood interrogating the local detectives. "Morgan needs your laptop ASAP."

"Yes, sir." Reid pulled the slim computer from his ever-present leather shoulder bag. Morgan carried it outside and booted it up, sitting it on the hood of Hotch's SUV. Rossi and Reid gathered around the two men, watching as Morgan's fingers flew over the keyboard.

It was a matter of moments before Emily's email and the video was on the screen. The men tensed, remembering Reid's ordeal. Hotch's breath caught in his throat, a vocal noise that was out of character for the normally taciturn man.

The video feed showed a young woman, dark haired and eyed, and for a moment the men were certain it was Emily. But only for a moment.

The face was different, she wasn't as tall. It wasn't Emily. Thank God.

But if it wasn't, why was it sent to her? Did she know the woman?

More importantly—where was Agent Prentiss?

MARCH 12 2008 11:02 P.M.

She dialed Elena's number as quickly as she could, waiting impatiently for it to ring. "El, he's back and he's got Sage. He broke into my place. I don't know who he's coming after next—you and Sophie need to lay low for a few days. Hear me? Lay low."

"Em, what are you going to do? I can be at your place in two hours, hear me?"

"No! You stay with your daughter! Call Alex and Jazz. Warn them. Tell them to run, do whatever they have to, to disappear. Keep it cash, don't talk to anyone they know. You do the same."

"And you? What about you?" Elena demanded, as she shook her daughter awake. "What are you going to do? Let me call Malone, he can help us get Sage back. Alex and Jazz, too. We're all trained agents, Em. You don't have to do this alone."

"No. Listen, El. He's FBI, too. It's better if I do this alone, so he can't connect us. Remember?" Emily said as she maneuvered her car back through the streets toward Quantico. "You need to go under, too. Watch the paper. Just like we did in St. Louis. Tell the others. Get Alex to get as much dirt on him as she can. We're going to bring him down this time, I swear."

"What about Sage, Emily? You'll need help finding her."

"I'll find her. I promise, Elena. I'm sending you a video, I want you to keep it, in case I can't get to her. Twelve hours—if I've not found her by then, call in the troops. BAU, Missing persons, whomever you can get."

"Be careful, Emily."

"I promise."

Emily disconnected the call as she pulled up to an ATM. She'd need cash for what she was about to do, and lots of it.

She had twenty-four hours to find Sage, until nine pm tomorrow night. 24 hours to find her—and the man who'd nearly killed her, Alex, and Elena eight years ago.

She couldn't fail. She couldn't stand over the grave of another friend. She couldn't.

She withdrew as much cash as she could and pulled away. She had to disappear if she wanted to track him. He had all the resources of the FBI behind him, more so than she—even with the BAU's help—and she couldn't afford to let him find her. Not until she was ready.

MARCH 12 2008 11:58 P.M.

Hotch and the rest of the team were spread out around the conference table. Garcia was trembling, her hands not as steady on the keyboard as they usually were. This was Emily. One of her closest friends. It wasn't like Elle, not really. Elle had only been a colleague, a teammate. Not really someone she'd gotten that close to.

She booted up the video feed of the woman. It showed her huddled in the corner, but she didn't appeared cowed. She glared at the camera, obviously knowing someone was watching.

Penelope wondered if she knew the people on this side of the camera were trying to help.

"What do we know?" JJ asked, and everyone pretended not to hear the fear in her voice.

"Treat this like any other case. Work a profile." Rossi said. "We need as much information as we can find, and fast."

"So we're going to profile Em?" Garcia asked.

"Just like we did Morgan in Chicago." Hotch said firmly. "We have to find her before we can help her."

"I don't know man. In Chicago, I didn't really try not to be found. This is different." Morgan said. "Emily's scared of this guy. With good reason. And if she doesn't want to be found, it'll be mighty difficult to find her."

"Who is this guy, Morgan? What did she tell you?" Hotch asked. It bothered him to know end, knowing that the smart, brave, and capable woman was afraid of someone, and he didn't even know about it.

"Not much. Enough to know she's scared. The guy's part of the Bureau, but she never gave a name." Morgan began. "I'd guess it was eight, nine years ago. She's sharing a place with some friends—other agents, FBI, Secret Service, ATF. They're all out for the night, except Emily and two others. This guy breaks in, knocks one over the head, ties up the second, and…and nearly kills Em."

"Oh, my baby girl." Penelope said, when he'd finished.

"What happened next?" Rossi asked, trying not to think of his pretty colleague as a victim.

It was always worse when it was one of your own.

"A brother of one of Emily's roommates, he and his friends stopped by. Just that simple—they heard Emily scream, broke in. The guy cut and ran before they even made it through the front door."

"And they never caught the guy?" JJ asked, paler than normal.

"Emily never really said much. Just that someone 'made it all go away'. That the guy was pretty high up in the St. Louis office. She and her roommates moved, applied for transfers. She went to Chicago. Then ended up here."

"So the guy's still out there." Reid said. "Where's he been all this time? What was his motive to begin with?"

"From what Emily said—he wanted one of her roommates. She wasn't home that night, so he went after the three women that remained."

"So he hit one, tied up another, and what did he do to Prentiss?" Hotch asked.

"She never said." Morgan sighed. "But you all had to notice how nervous she was in St. Louis a few months back. I don't think she slept the first three nights we were there. Finally, after she told me what was going on, I crashed on the couch in her hotel room. I'd never seen her that way."

"I noticed." Reid said, "I just thought the case was getting to her."

"She's never said anything about any of this." JJ said. "Why did she tell you?"

"I don't know. I just know she was nervous, scared before we even got to the city. I asked her about it."

"What about the other women—did she tell you who any of them were?" Hotch asked.

"No, sir."

"Garcia—see what you can find. Look for any police reports, as well." Hotch ordered. "We need to find these women—find out who this is on the tape, and quick."

"Our first priority is to find Prentiss, she can lead us to this girl—and the bastard who took her." Rossi said, watching the woman on the screen as she pulled her knees into her chest for warmth.

MARCH 13 2008 12: 28 AM

Emily's first action was to find another vehicle. She found what she was looking for at a buy-here, pay-here, place on the edge of the city. She'd parked her car in the airport parking garage and called a cab, and told him to drop her off at the nearest cheap car lot. This was what she'd found, and half an hour later she was driving off the lot with a six thousand dollar used Ford Taurus. She knew once someone found her car, they could trace her movements through the cab company—but that would take at least a day, if not longer.

Emily didn't have that kind of time. She had to find Sage—and him—and get her out of there. Then she'd worry about what to do about him.

Her mind ran with a million questions, asking herself where he'd been all these years, why was he doing this now, why Sage? Why not her?

He'd always hated her the most. He'd told her that, eight years ago on a warm August night. Hated her for what she had, for what she'd told Kate about him. Hated her for her.

She knew he was using Sage as bait to drag her out. He wanted her, and he'd known she'd do whatever she had to in order to help her friend. And Sage was the most vulnerable. She wasn't an agent like the rest of them. She worked in the music industry of all things, making music videos. Videography. Sage had always had a camera in her hand. She'd had a video tape setup that night in St. Louis, too. It hadn't mattered, then. They'd never had enough to see the man's face. And apparently the word of six witnesses weren't enough for the FBI to sanction their fair haired boy.

Was that why he chose to videotape her? To hold her in that little room, as some sort of macabre joke?

Emily would have preferred he come for her directly. Face to face, get it over with. But he'd always been a manipulative coward. That hadn't changed, obviously.

The first thing she needed to do was find a secure internet connection that couldn't be traced—at least not quickly. She had no idea what sort of influence he wielded in the Washington offices, and she couldn't risk him finding her before she found him.

Thank God Garcia had showed her a thing or two about breaking into systems.

MARCH 13 2008 12:43 AM

Garcia found the first police report and knew she'd found the first step in the fight to find Emily. "Found it!"

It took only a few finger strokes to place the report on the main screen for everyone to read.

"The UNSUB's name's been blacked out." Reid noted, idly. "Wonder why."

"Bureau connections." Hotch said, as he hurriedly scanned the document. "Garcia, cross reference those names—including Prentiss's—and see what you can find. We need addresses on the other five."

"No need on one, sir." JJ said, recognizing a name. "She works for Jack Malone in New York's Missing Persons. We met her in New York about six months before Emily joined the team."

"Excellent. JJ, call Malone, have him bring her here and sit on her." Hotch ordered.

"Boss, I have a death certificate." Garcia began. "Caitlyn Todd, lost line of duty. NCIS, former Secret Service. Dated six months before Emily joined the BAU."

"So we know the woman's not Delgado, Emily, or Todd." Rossi said. "What of the remaining three?"

"Alexandra Brockman, Sage Morrell, and Jasmine Thorez." Garcia read allowed quickly.

"Cross reference with tax returns." Hotch ordered unnecessarily, as JJ hung up the phone.

"Malone's going to bring her in as soon as he can find her—and arrange protection for her daughter." JJ said.

"Ok, sir. Alexandra Brockman, Secret Service—stationed…here in DC. Sage Morrell, works for LMX Industries, New York. Jasmine Thorez, ATF. Also stationed in DC." Garcia said, reading from her screen.

"I'm betting it's Morrell. Non-agent, easier target. Probably follows a set routine." Rossi said. "I'll call a friend in the New York field office. Pull her in."

"Do that. I'll contact ATF." Hotch said. "Morgan, contact SS and get Brockman here, ASAP."

"Hotch—I don't think that's going to be necessary." JJ said, looking through the window at the three dark haired women standing down in their bullpen. "I think she's here."

"Everybody down there. Now." Hotch ordered.