Chapter 2
Tricks
Men are so simple and yield so readily to the desires of the moment that he who will trick will always find another who will suffer to be tricked: - Niccolo Machiavelli
Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.
They were dragged and prodded and moved quickly. Reid now had the gun prodding in his back and couldn't see what was going on with Floyd, but he didn't seem to be fighting. Reid could hear behind him someone was being dragged, but on the way through more people were picked from the floor and pushed along with them. They were taken out via the fire exit into the side ally way.
"Where are you taking us?" the reply was a punch in the back of his head. Spencer staggered forwards nearly losing his footing.
Reid was pushed with the rest of them face first against the wall. He still hadn't seen Floyd or if Floyd was even with them. The group of six were then told to put their hands behind their backs. One at a time they had flexicuffs wrapped around their wrists. When it came to Spencer he kept his hands at his side.
"Please let these others go. If it is me you want just let them go." Brains which had previously been inside the head of the young man standing next to him splattered up the wall and across the side of Spencer's face. Reid put his hands against the wall to stop himself from passing out or screaming.
"Hands please Spencer."
The fact that his name was used made his head swim even more, but slowly he put his hands behind his back and felt them being roughly bound.
Each then was picked up and thrown into the back of a waiting van.
-o-o-o-
The cops arrived and saw a blood bath. They took names of the people who were still there and able to talk. They lay covers over the dead and took care of those who needed hospital treatment.
Each person's description of the UnSub was different. They all agreed on there being two people, but they did seem all have seen slightly different men. Some reported short dark guys whereas some reported tall and blonde or short and blonde. Fat and skinny, muscular and gaunt. No one seemed to be able to describe the same person.
The main problem was that a lot of these people had no ID on them – if they did it was fake. No one seemed to know anyone else's names.
They stood and looked at the remains of the carnage.
Hotch and Prentiss walked around the inside of the building looking at the yellow markers the CSU had placed. Twenty five bodies had been removed from the premises. One from outside. Six young men had died since being taken to the hospital.
As all reports on what had happened seemed to differ from person to person the BAU had been called in to try to profile the scene and work out what had gone on here.
Again they had talked to witnesses and again everyone said something slightly different and so now the two of them stood on the dance floor where then UnSubs had stood and looked around at the mess. The mirrors were shot out – everything was full of bullet holes. How anyone had gotten out alive was short of a miracle and not really surprising that they either saw nothing or remembered it incorrectly.
Some people had said how the men had taken a few hostages with them. No one had been robbed. Nothing had been taken except for a few people and with the security cameras not picking up much more than flashing lights there wasn't much to go on. Garcia had the tapes and was trying to find something – anything on them, but so far nothing. There were no signing in books or memberships required. Just cash on the door.
Prentiss shook her head. "Why would someone do this? It just makes no sense. There is no message, there are no demands – yet. Why come in here and shoot a load of people and then walk around killing some of the wounded and then take some with you?"
Hotch looked at Prentiss and sighed. "They were looking for someone. Or targeting a certain type. I want to see the names of the ones who took the single shot. They were singled out and I want to know why. All the shooting took place here in the middle of the floor. Maximum damage in the shortest amount of time and then they took their times looking at the dead. This was controlled and planned."
-o-o-o-
Derek was with Rossi walking around the outside of the building. They stopped and looked at where the guy had been killed execution style against the wall and looked at blood drops on the ground again marked by yellow markers. Apparently a vehicle had been parked here and a dropped pair of flexicuffs let them know that hostages had been bound and taken from this spot.
The carried on walking around the building to the taped off parking lot at the rear of the club. No one had been permitted to take their vehicle away yet. They needed to know if any of the cars and vans belonged to any of the dead.
Morgan stood and looked at the few rows of vehicles. His eyes swept along the length to the bay at the end. His stomach did a small jump and he touched Rossi on the arm and started to walk quickly forwards.
The end bay held a big black Harley.
"Hey!" Morgan called out to the cop who was in charge of the lot. "This bike. The owner has claimed it?"
The cop came over to where Morgan was standing. "All claimed vehicles have been tagged."
Morgan looked at the bike again. "Where is the tag for the bike?"
"If there is no tag then no one has claimed it."
Derek took a few steps back and looked again at the big dark bike and then turned to Rossi. "It's Flanders bike."
"Are you sure?" Rossi frowned.
"Yes I am sure."
Derek pulled his phone off his belt and called Hotch. "We have a problem."
-o-o-o-
The room was huge and circular. Everything seemed to be painted black. The floor was some kind of black stone. He stood still wearing what he had put on goodness knew when for a night at the club. His hands were still held behind his back and now a short heavy chain held his ankle to a ring embedded in the cold floor. He could just about see the edges of the room. The others who had been brought here with him were standing at the wall fairly evenly spaced. They were all standing facing him.
Spencer turned in a tight circle to see if he could see Floyd amongst them, but he didn't seem to be there. Was he still back at the club? He wasn't even sure it was Floyd they had kicked and then dragged out with them. He didn't want to call out of make a fuss – he still had the sticky remains of someone's brains on the side of his face to remind him of what happened if he tried to talk to them – or resist them.
He wanted to talk to the guy with the funny smell. He wanted to ask him to let the others go and he would do what he told him, but the guy wasn't there. Just the people staring at him from the edges of the room. More people than had been taken from the club.
When he became so tired that his legs were shaking and the room began to spin he crouched on the floor. Still nothing. Just the occasional crying from one of the other people in the round room.
-o-o-o-
Floyd sat with his legs crossed. The blood on his chest had dried stiff on his shirt. He was pissed off. He was very pissed off. Once again someone was interfering. The room he was in was very opulent. They hadn't been stingy on the luxuries they gave to Floyd. Deep velvet cushions and weird shaped bottles full of wonderful mixtures. Small boxes of different sorts of powders and small bottles with syringes laying next to them. There were manacles hanging off the walls and shelves covered in every toy you would ever want or need. He had walked around and had a look. He had smoked something from a small tobacco tin standing on a tiny ancient cupboard.
He had looked at the boys in the cage at the end of the room and even ran his hand over the face of one of them. Small boys. Thin boys. Boys willing to play. He returned to a big pile of cushions and rugs in the middle of the room which smelled strongly of some incense and waited. He knew he would turn up eventually and he knew there would be an offer.
When the door opened Floyd didn't even look up. He saw the booted feet stop in front of him and he heard the voice.
"So you want to know what the offer is?"
"It doesn't matter what the offer is, Ren, Spencer isn't for sale."
A hand – not Ren's hand – a big clawed hard hand reached down and took hold of Floyd's hair and pulled him to his feet. He stood now looking over Ren's shoulder.
"Everyone has his price Floyd. Do you like this place? Everything you would ever want. I can keep you in a manner you have always desired – and have actually lived like before – I can give it all back to you. This has got to be better than living in a stuffy little house with your stuffy little boyfriend entertaining your neighbours."
"He's not for sale Ren – and I like my stuffy little boyfriend and our stuffy little house."
"I will show you how the job should be done."
"Tell your goon to let go of my hair and I know how to do my job Ren, I don't need guidance notes from you."
"You will fail again and there will be no more chances. You will be finished. Let me do the job for you. Then you will be free of him."
The hand left the top of his head and Floyd took a step back. "I don't want this crap Ren. I need you to return me and Spencer and for you to stop this silly game. I'm not impressed with this pathetic show of – power – whatever it is. We had a fair match. I won. Live with it."
"Fabulous – you have made your position on the matter very clear. I will have to take the other route. I will ask Spencer to give you up for me."
"He wouldn't do that." Again Floyd was stepping back.
"Don't be so sure."
-o-o-o-
Firstly Hotch called the house but just got the answer phone. He tried Reid's cell and that went to voicemail.
"I need someone sent over to the house ASAP to check if they are there."
Hotch then stood again and looked at the carnage around him. Prentiss stood at his side. "I will get Garcia to check the hospitals." She took out her phone and made a call.
Then there was the morgue.
The four of them got back into their SUV in silence. No one wanted the job of looking at bodies to see if they could ID Reid or Flanders.
"I'll go." Rossi finally said. "I didn't have the same emotional attachment that you did."
"I'll come with you." Emily's voice was steady and strong. " It will be quicker if there are two of us."
Hotch held tightly onto the wheel of the vehicle and closed his eyes. "You know you won't find Flanders there. I wouldn't be surprised if this was all something he had planned in the first place."
Morgan looked at Hotch's reflection in the central mirror. "Hotch man, why would he do this."
Aaron shook his head. "Why does he do anything? For fun? To amuse himself?"
Prentiss spoke again. "Then Reid isn't dead?"
"How do you know?" Rossi looked over at Prentiss who was sitting next to him in the back of the car.
"Because Flanders needs Reid – so if this was his doing, then they are somewhere safe."
"But the bike?" Morgan again. "Why leave the bike. Why not claim it and get a cab home? Why not stay around and help us? Reid wouldn't leave the scene of something like this unless he had to and there are only a limited number of ways that could have happened."
"They took him with them, or he is dead." Prentiss looked out of the window.
Hotch spoke again. "Let us assume that Flanders had some sort of involvement here. If that is the case then Reid is still alive somewhere. They both are and the taking of hostages is just a cover manipulated by Flanders. Two people opened fire in there. We know that Flanders is able to alter things. Change things so that people are misled and thoughts are confused. We know he can put thoughts and images into people's minds."
"I know what you are saying Hotch, but Reid wouldn't do that. Open fire like that on a crowd of people? That's just not Reid. I will hurry Garcia up with the security tapes but you know what, if Floyd had anything to do with it they will be blank."
"Hotch turned and looked hard at Morgan. You forget how well I know Flanders and this is not by any means beyond him. I am not saying this was him, I am saying it could well have been. If not Flanders with the weapon, then arranged by him. It is something we have to think about – but it doesn't mean that we stop looking for other reasons for this. I just cannot think why this was done."
-o-o-o-
He was curled up on the floor by the time something new happened and when it happened it was painful.
When the pain started he opened his eyes to find he was in complete darkness. He tried to curl up tighter and protect him self but with his hands behind his back still there was no way he could stop whoever his way from kicking the side of his head and stamping down on his shoulder – which was now going numb because of the length of time he had his hands wrenched behind him.
He tried to slide away from the attack but someone else pulled him back and then up to his feet. Spencer still couldn't see who it was and not having hands to defend himself with he felt horribly vulnerable.
Spencer felt someone cut the cuffs off his wrists and then remove the one around his ankle. Although he was happy to be free he was in pain and confused. A familiar voice spoke to him from a short way off.
"Strip off babes."
"Floyd?" Spencer turned on the spot trying to work out where Floyd was.
"Just do it." His voice sounded harsh and angry.
He started to walk towards the voice when something grabbed him by the hair. "Stand still and do as you are told."
"No." He tried to slap the hand away out of his hair. "No I won't do it."
The hand in his hair twisted him so he had to turn to his right. Over in the darkness a light had lit up one of the people standing at the edge and walking towards that person was Floyd.
The man at the wall was in jeans and a tight Tshirt.
And now another voice. "Listen to me little scum boy. You will do as you are told or you little chum Floyd over there will begin to play with that poor young man."
Reid stood and watched Floyd turn the man around and slowly undo the man's jeans. He pulled them down to his knees and turned to smirk at Spencer.
"You listen to me – That is not Floyd. I don't know what your game is but this wont work."
The light he had been illuminating the scene went out and all Spencer could hear was the man's screams.
"Strip."
Spencer looked into the darkness and listened to the sounds he had the power to stop.
"Just stop it. Leave him alone. If it's me you are so interested in – just stop – I'll do it." His hands still tingling and in pain from the sudden release fumbled at the front of the trousers Floyd had picked out for him that evening. He pushed them down his thighs but left his underwear on. "My boots. I need to take my boots off."
He sat back on the floor and pulled off his boots and then stood again pushing his trousers slowly off. The screaming had stopped but he didn't know if it was because the guy was dead or if he had been left alone. As he kicked off the clothing his foot was grabbed and fastened back onto the ring.
And now with sounds of howling animals in his ears and the roar of wings in the back of his mind he cried out in pain as they started to play their first little game with Spencer.
-o-o-o-
It became quite clear to Rossi and Prentiss after a while why some of these men had been chosen specially. With most of the face blown away it was hard to tell with some of them if they were the person they were looking for. It was especially difficult for Rossi who didn't know Reid as well. Some of the bodies Rossi wasn't sure about Emily was able to say wasn't Reid. However they were left with three possibles.
Prentiss stood and looked at the body bags and sighed. The people inside had been shot to pieces. The faces gone and the bodies torn apart. Even the hands were ripped and mashed.
"This has been done on purpose. Rossi this wasn't accidental that these three could match. Why would someone do this? It's just so sick. Which one is him?"
Rossi could see the extreme distress on Emily's face. "There is nothing to say any of these are him. As you say – why would someone go to the trouble to do this unless they are hiding the truth? I very much doubt that Reid is here."
Prentiss nodded. "And Floyd definitely isn't. So where the hell are they?"
-o-o-o-
Floyd was laying back on the rugs with a smile on his face when the door was opened and Spencer was thrown into the room.