Thank you all very much for the reviews and the welcome back, it was awesome! Couple quick things, this probably won't be updated as frequently as my other stories were (just too busy now), and there's some violence in this chapter and in the following ones. This one's going to get pretty bloody. Thanks for reading and reviewing!
May 23, 2011
Quantico, Virgina
8:45 am
He was already in the office when he heard the commotion, though he hadn't been there very long. Hotch stepped out to find a frantic Ambassador Prentiss rushing in, her own security people on either side of her. Reid was out of his seat, and moving toward her, concern on his face. Hotch headed down the stairs, and over to the scene, dreading whatever case she was going to try to hand them. He was suddenly struck with sympathy for Prentiss and the childhood she must have had.
"Well, if you just calm down, and tell me what's going on, I'll try to help you, Ambassador." Reid was attempting to placate her, and failing. Hotch almost laughed at the relief in the young man's eyes when Reid saw him.
"Ambassador Prentiss, what brings you by? Emily isn't in yet, if you're looking for her."
"I know that, Agent Hotchner, that's what I'm here about. I need to talk to you and your team, it's an emergency."
Hotch instantly stiffened. "Has something happened to Agent Prentiss?"
She looked suddenly very tired, and so very much like a worried mother, it nearly made him step back. "Just please get your team together."
At least worried meant Prentiss was still alive, that was something. He turned to his young colleague, who already looked upset. "Please go see if JJ and Garcia are in, tell them to meet us in the conference room."
He simply nodded, and headed off to do as instructed. Hanging onto his professionalism like shield, Hotch gestured her to the stairs, signaling her security to remain with a hand. He pointed her into the conference room, and went to grab Rossi, looking toward the pod of desks below, hoping to see Morgan arriving. He shook his head, maybe the others would run into him.
They didn't. Reid arrived with Garcia and JJ, the former clutching her laptop, and the latter her cell phone, both ready to do war with their weapons of choice.
"Did you see Morgan down there?" He asked them.
"No, they didn't, Agent Hotchner." Ambassador Prentiss supplied.
He frowned, confused and concerned even more than before. "Why don't you explain to us what's going on Ambassador?"
She nodded, and pulled a plastic baggie from her purse, and tossed it in the middle of the table. Inside was a small manila envelope addressed to the Ambassador.
"I received that this morning. They told me someone handed it to my doorman last night. Inside are photographs and a short note." She inhaled, attempting to retain her composure. "Someone abducted my daughter and Agent Morgan."
Undisclosed Location
9:20 am
They'd gone from sitting and waiting for their heads to clear of the drug-induced fuzzies, to pacing back and forth in their room-which was much longer than it was wide-to sitting, curled up together against a wall. Normally, Emily was all over using Derek's beautifully sculpted chest for a pillow, but right now, she wasn't feeling it so much.
She was pissed that she was half naked and locked in what they estimated to be a shipping container. She was pissed that her head still ached from whatever they knocked them out with, and she was damn furious they hadn't brought their guns with them on their little stroll to dinner. Sure, that may have seemed paranoid, but she was regretting it now. They weren't sure what time it was, but estimated that it was probably the morning, which meant the team might already know that they're missing.
"Can I be completely honest with you?" Morgan suddenly asked.
"Of course." She angled her head to look at him, tension settling in her gut.
"I don't think I'll ever be able to play normal Scrabble again."
Emily chuckled. "I knew you liked my rules."
"Very much. In fact, I think we should apply your rules to every game we play." His mouth was right by her ear, his breath hitting her neck in whisps, sending warmth through her body.
"But, what if I don't need to cheat?"
"Oh, so now you admit that you cheated?"
She considered that for a minute. "At first it was cheating, then you agreed to amend the rules, so it was fine."
He smiled; even in the darkness she could see his teeth. "Now, that's not really fair. You offer to take your clothes off, and no man is going to turn you down."
"I'm might buy that, if it was your first time seeing me naked."
"Well, that particular show just keeps getting better and better." He pressed a kiss to her cheek. Emily squeezed his hand.
"What do you think they want with us?" It was what she'd been wondering, and what she didn't really want to think about.
Morgan sighed. "I don't know, Princess. Neither of us would make for much of a ransom."
"Leverage then? Maybe they want something from the Bureau?"
He snorted. "Then why take us? Why not a section chief, AD, DD or the damn director himself?"
She shrugged. "Maybe it's something that involved the BAU, or that they think the BAU can get them?"
They both turned at the sudden sounds of chains jingling and a lock popping open. The door swung up, and it became quickly apparent that they were indeed locked in a shipping container.
The US president masks were gone, replaced by the twisted grins, colorful make-up, and red, bulbous noses of clowns. Not the squeezable foam kind, but plastic molded as part of a mask. Four super creepy fucking clowns.
"Someone's got a sense of humor," Emily muttered, as they both got to their feet.
One clown had three tufts of green hair (one on top, the others on each side), and a exaggerated, wide-open, red mouth. Another had the traditional red curls, but his green and yellow eyebrows are angled sharply down, giving him a sinister look. A third clown had small tufts of bright yellow hair, bright blue diamonds around his eyes, exaggerated cheeks giving him a dopey, stoned look, and yellowed, cracking teeth. The last clown had purple hair, big budging eyes, high rounded and rouged cheek bones, and a small, exaggerated grin. Too small.
Two of the clowns had thin, black batons, yellow hair and purple hair, and they were the first to approach. They started moving slowly, and then everything suddenly went so fast. She wasn't sure who got hit with a baton first, but both their voices were audible, groaning against the pain. It felt like fire was shooting through her body, flames that cut through her like knives. Emily was on the ground without even remembering getting there. Purple hit her again with the taser-baton, and her body jolted violently.
She didn't see him nodding to the other two, or see them heading toward her; she was looking at Morgan's body shaking and jolting on the floor. Hands grabbed her, and dragged her aching, exhausted body out of the box. She saw light, outside, but was too out of it to make sense of anything. Then she was in another box, being pushed to her knees.
There was a fifth clown there, behind a video camera. He had blue hair, overly-defined eyebrow ridges and a wide open, toothy mouth, his tongue sticking out. He looked deranged.
Shit, this wasn't going to be good.
Quantico, Virgina
9:30 am
Hotch was in a corner, speaking with his bosses, alerting them to the situation. The rest of the team was still parked at the table, riveted to the photographs. JJ felt sick.
It was obvious they were unconscious and both were practically naked. The note, typed in Times New Roman 12pt, about as generic as it got, and a whole 4 words.
Better find the FBI.
"It has dual meanings," Reid commented, tilting his head as he studied it. "The use of 'find' as opposed to 'go to' or 'contact'. It refers to both us and Emily and Morgan."
"It's mocking," Rossi supplied.
"Yes, very much so," the genius agreed.
"What does that tell you?" Elizabeth asked, strain evident in her voice.
Rossi held a hand to Reid. The youngest profiler wasn't exactly known for being delicate. Rossi turned to her, adopting the most soothing tone he had. "It means they know who they've got, and who they'll be dealing with. They've done their homework, and lots of it. This was planned, and that's good news, Ambassador. It means they want something from you, and we can deal with them."
"What could they possibly want from me? I don't have that much money."
"What about Emily's father? Does he?"
She opened her mouth to answer, and then froze. "Honestly, I don't know. I haven't seen him since Emily was young."
Rossi nodded patiently, and looked at Garcia. He didn't even have to speak.
"On it, sir." And, her fingers were racing across her keyboard almost faster than the eye could see.
"We'll need a list of enemies, Ambassador. If this isn't about money, then it could be someone who wants to hurt you. If not that, you may not have money, but you do have influence. It could be someone who wants to barter that, so it would be helpful to know your assignments and what you've been involved in. As I said earlier, whoever is responsible has been planning this, they'll have chosen you for what you can give them."
She nodded, and accepted the legal pad and pen JJ slid toward her. Reid got his attention then, pointing to one of the photos with a gloved hand.
"It looks like they were taken in a van. It's too small to be anything but a closet, and the contours aren't right for a room."
Rossi nodded, and sighed. "It's always a van."
JJ was on her feet then, flicking on the TV, and switching channels to a local one out of DC, alternately glancing at her phone.
"Now, we're going to play that footage again, but for anyone just tuning in, a local electronics store seems to have gotten a kidnapping on tape. No confirmation yet on who the victims are, the DCPD says they're investigating, but haven't identified them yet. You'll see first, the couple walking up the street, then stopping to look in the window, and pay close attention, you'll see the van pull up behind them. Can we roll that footage again, Joe?"
The anchor looked off screen, and then they were suddenly watching black and white security footage. As soon as Morgan and Prentiss appeared on screen, Rossi waved to Hotch for his attention. He stopped mid-speech, and walked back to the table.
They were holding hands and smiling like any other couple would. Then Morgan tugged her toward the cameras, and they were talking, standing close to each other. There was no sound, so he couldn't tell what they were saying, but they were obviously enjoying themselves. Then Emily kissed him. It was definitely not a gesture between friends, and neither was the lip-lock that Morgan initiated.
Sure enough, as they were busying making out, a van pulled up behind them, and man in masks jumped out. What followed was more difficult to see, both agents putting their backs to the camera, and then the fight started, and everyone in the room collectively cringed. Garcia gasped when they stuck the needle in Emily's arm, and shut her eyes and turned away when they did the same to Morgan.
Then the men in masks-which turned out to be former US presidents-shoved their victims in the white van, and sped off. That was it. Two FBI agents disappeared in less than five minutes. On a well-traveled street, when it was only just beginning to get dark out. Five minutes. Damn it.
JJ was already on the phone, getting in touch with the locals, and Hotch was resuming his phone call, sounding more stressed and impatient than he had a moment ago.
The ambassador was still glued to the TV screen. "She didn't tell me she was seeing anyone."
"I wouldn't take it personally, Ambassador. I'm sure you already know that Emily doesn't share much, and Morgan doesn't either," Rossi offered. The only one of them he was sure didn't know was Hotch; contrary to what Emily told him, he couldn't imagine her not talking to JJ and Garcia about it.
"That was quite an eyeful either way," Garcia commented.
Any further conversation was cut-off by the ringing phone. All eyes went to the Elizabeth's phone, where Garcia had it sprouting wires on the table.
"Garcia, are you ready?" Hotch's voice startled the tech, who scrambled to get the device ready to record and trace. JJ came up behind her, and set a hand on her shoulder.
Ring.
"Ready, sir."
Ring.
"Ambassador." Hotch nodded at her.
Ring—She picked up the phone. "Yes?" She asked.
"Good morning, Ambassador Prentiss." The voice was very deep in pitch, and electronically distorted.
"What do you want?"
"Simple manners to return to the world. Say good morning, Ambassador."
Her jaw tensed. "Good morning. Now, what do you want?"
The voice chuckled, unnatural and warped. "A link to a live video has been sent to Ms. Garcia's email address. You might want to see it."
The tech was more than a little startled to hear her name, but didn't miss a beat, fingers drumming, opening up the email, and clicking the link.
"Oh god." Garcia slapped a hand over her mouth, as the others congregated behind her.
The video was of a poorly lit room, with four men in clown masks, two at the far back, armed with black electric batons, one off to the side, and the other dead center, standing beside Emily. She was on her knees, wearing nothing except her bra and panties, she looked mostly unharmed, but a little out of it.
"We have your daughter, and we have her lover. We require you listen carefully to what we ask, and do as you're told. The first time you hesitate, Agent Morgan will suffer. The second time you hesitate, he will suffer, the third time you hesitate, he will suffer, until we get tired of hearing him scream, and then we'll start making your little girl scream. Do you understand, Ambassador?"
"Yes, yes I understand. What do you need me to do?"
"Not so fast." One screen, the clown beside Emily looked down at her, putting the phone by her ear. "Say hi to mommy, Emily."
She glared at him. "Fuck you, freakshow."
He looked behind him, and nodded at one of the other clowns, then stepped away from Emily. The other clown pressed the baton into her back. She screamed, twitched and fell forward to the ground. The clowns switched position again.
"Say hello, Emily." He held the phone to her again.
She pushed herself back to her knees, and they could hear her breathing heavily. "Hello, mother."
"Are you alright, Emily?" Elizabeth was pale, free hand gripping the table.
"Never better."
"And, Agent Morgan?"
"Enjoying the spa...guys, they're organized, disciplined, professionals, there's five of them, they all-" Her own shriek cut her off. The clown with the baton had come up on her so fast, they didn't even see it.
"You will find her father. He will be at the next call. 2p.m. If you do as we ask, and your child keeps learns to keep her mouth shut, she and her lover will be returned to you, alive and as unharmed as possible. If you fail..." He nodded to the baton-clown.
The call and video shut-off at the same time, Emily's screams and moans in their ears.