Half an hour later, the driver was pulling the sedan into an old warehouse in the outskirts of Quantico.
"Whoever you are working for isn't going to be happy when they see that you have the wrong agent," Reid warned his captors.
"Quit talking and start walking," the gunman told him as he roughly yanked Reid from the back seat of the car, causing him to fall onto the concrete floor.
After Reid had been unceremoniously yanked to his feet, the two men directed him to begin climbing a set of metal stairs leading to the second floor of the building. When they had reached the top of the stairs, it was then a short walk down a hallway and into an office with a window overlooking the floor of the warehouse.
"Okay, Boss, here we are," the gunman announced as the pushed Reid into the office in front of them.
"One FBI agent, just what you asked for," the driver added.
Reid could see an older man sitting motionless behind a wooden desk at the other side of the room. Standing slightly behind him, on either side, were two stocky men whose build and demeanor said 'Muscle'. Reid wondered whose muscle they were and what they were doing here. He shivered as several possibilities crossed his mind.
"I think you have made a mistake," he began.
"I said 'Shut Up'!" the gunman ordered as he punched Reid in the stomach causing him to double over in pain.
The older man looked Reid up and down. "Who have we here?" he questioned the two captors.
"The guy you told us to grab," the gunman told him. "We got him after he left the FBI Building, just like you said, and brought him here."
"I said I wanted Jason Schuster from Organized Crime. Who is this guy?" was the reply.
"You mean this isn't him?" the gunman asked. "I checked, same height, same ski jacket."
"I told you – I'm not the guy you want!" Reid told them. "Now, will you let me go?"
"You need to look at more than a cheap jacket," the boss told the two men. "I gave you a picture. Didn't you look at it, you idiots? Did you even check his ID?"
He turned to address the two men standing behind him. "That's what I get for hiring my wife's nephews," he commented.
"This jacket wasn't cheap," Reid protested. "And, if you will let me go, I'll walk out of here now with no questions asked and never look back. You have my word on it!"
"It's not that easy," was the response. "You are a Fed and I have no doubt my wife's nephews have taken your weapon as well as your wallet. You also now know where to find us."
He looked at the unsuccessful kidnappers. "You two – You created this situation, now take care of it!" he instructed them.
"What are we supposed to do?" the driver asked.
"Use your imagination," was the response. "He is a liability. Get rid of him!"
After exchanging unhappy looks, each of the thugs grabbed one of Reid's arms and, as he struggled unsuccessfully trying to escape, they dragged him out of the office and back down the stairs. Once they were back on the main floor of the warehouse, they popped open the trunk of the sedan and roughly shoved him inside.