Chapter 3: Negotiations.

Reid set his phone on the table in front of him, while Morgan stood behind him. They had found a private room to set up their call, and now the phone was on speaker and ringing as they waited for an answer.

The ringing stopped and there was silence. Reid cleared his throat, knowing the routine. "Connors. I need to see you."

The voice on the other end was smug, "Why, he lives! He speaks! The good Doctor is alive and well. How many months has it been?"

Reid frowned, "Not enough." He took a breath, "Look, I need to see you, can we set up a meeting for me and a friend?"

"Might I inquire as to the topic of this meeting?"

"A business negotiation; that's all I have to say. Are you interested or not?" Reid forced himself to be the one with the control, while glancing back at Morgan who gave him an encouraging nod.

"I could never turn down a meeting with an old friend, and perhaps a new friend too. Tomorrow, noon, I'll make sure there are drinks. Meet me at the main compound; I have a surprise for you."

The line went dead and Reid picked up his phone again, and closed it, turning to look at Morgan. "That was too easy. Something's up."

With a nod Morgan agreed, "We'll have to be on our guard more than usual."

~*~*~*~*~

Garcia tapped away at her keys with lighting precision. Searching through everything on Alexander Connors, and coming up with nothing too useful. No prior convictions, no connections to anyone who's ever been picked up for dealing drugs. She dug further. Bank accounts, plural, were showing an endless supply of money in multiple offshore accounts. Any one of them would have been enough to live on ten-fold, let alone putting them all together. Donations had been made in reasonable amounts to many high-profile businesses in and around DC. On the surface it was clear that Alexander Connors was a stand-up guy, it was when she dug even deeper that she found out more.

Alexander Connors didn't exist. Whatever he was called now, wasn't what he was born as. There were no records prior to him turning up at age 28, as a businessman in DC. No records of a legal name change anywhere, and no information on where he came from. For all intents and purposes Alexander Connors was a perfect, non-existent, member of society. That is, if one didn't include the one juvenile record, which took a little hacking to get into. While the real name wasn't listed, the pseudonym of "Connors, Alexander" had been used by an 18-year-old in Texas, picked up on a drug trafficking charge. He paid his own bail and was out before the ink was even dry.

And that was it. Nothing else on the mystery man could be found as much as Garcia's pride wished it could.

She stood and exited the room, spying JJ on the way out, and standing politely to wait for JJ to be done on the phone. JJ covered the mouth-piece and nodded at Garcia, "What is it? I'm on hold."

Garcia passed along all the information that she had just found, and JJ informed her that she would tell the rest of the team.

~*~*~*~*~

JJ hung up her phone and made her way to Hotch's office. She knocked on the door, and then entered as she heard the invitation through the door. "Sir, I made a few calls, and I've come up with some interesting information. There's no proof, just a lot of theories, but I think it'll be good to know anyway."

Hotch motioned for her to continue. "People are saying Connors has connections everywhere; the police force, the government, possibly even here in the FBI. And according to Garcia, with a seemingly endless supply of money, there's nothing he can't do if he wants to. He has people in his pocket I'm sure of it."

Hotch frowned, "The easiest way to get to him would be to get the people he's bribed and take them out. Then he'd have no one to fall back on when we bring charges against him. However, for that to work we need to know who they are."

"I'll inform Prentiss and Gideon, and then see if Garcia can find anything else." She turned, and closed the door behind her.

~*~*~*~*~

Prentiss and Gideon sat in his office trying to come up with some sort of plan to present to the crime boss causing this string of dead bodies.

Emily furrowed her brow, "I don't know if we can take him out for good. Not if what JJ says is true."

"We'll figure something out." Gideon offered; the eternal optimist.

Prentiss shrugged, unsure. "This seems like a lot of work. Don't get me wrong, I like a challenge, but this is almost insane. We can't just ask him for the names, without something in return, and we have nothing to give. And we can't ask him to stop his supposed experiments just because we say so. We need something to hold over him."

"What does he want?" Gideon prompted.

Prentiss thought about it for a moment. "He wants the solution to his super-drug."

"So, we give him that, in exchange for information."

"Only we don't have it."

Gideon smiled, "We don't, but Spencer might."

Prentiss returned the smile. "Good thinking."

~*~*~*~*~

Reid and Morgan nodded to Prentiss as she presented them with the plan. Reid licked his lips nervously, "Okay, I'll need a few hours to figure it out. He'll want to test it, make sure it works. If I give him something fake, he'll know right away, even without testing it. He can read me like a book. He's just like us, just as smart, and just as good at profiling."

"Only he's not just like us." Morgan said, "He's a serial killer and a drug dealer."

Reid waved that statement off like it wasn't what was important here. "True, but you can't think of him that way. If you do, you'll underestimate him, and we can't afford that."

"So," Prentiss said, "you need to get to work on that and have it ready by tomorrow."

A sigh came across Reid's lips, not because he didn't want to do the work, or that it would be too hard, but simply because he would be coming face to face with the man that ruined him. The thought was unnerving, and sent a chill down his spine. He was dreading it, but it was the only way, and it had been his idea, so backing out of it was out of the question. And it was only 18 hours away.

A hand on his shoulder brought him out of his thoughts, and he looked up at Morgan. "I'm just trying to figure out the fine details." Reid offered the answer to the unasked question.

"You had that thinking look on your face." Morgan said with a cocky smile, "So I figured as much."

Reid shot him a mini-glare, but then followed it up with a smile. "I better get home, I need to work on this, and I'm going to be late feeding Hypatia. She's not going to be happy."

After making sure he said goodbye to everyone, he headed home, brain still on overdrive as he worked on the formula in his head. The drive seemed to be short, and he couldn't exactly remember all the steps it had taken to get home, but now found himself in the hall of his apartment, standing in front of his door with the key in hand. He opened it, and deactivated the alarm system before greeting Hypatia and giving her her supper, which she greatly appreciated.

The following hours found him sitting on his couch with papers in front of him, scribbled with tiny notes and formulas. It was coming to him easier than he thought it would. Slowly as the minutes ticked by, and with Hypatia curled up beside him, he worked it out. Tick Tick Tick. The sound of the clock was all he heard until the rumble of Hypatia's soft purrs stirred the air.

Reid paused, leaning back into the couch, and laying a hand on his cat, stroking her slowly. The formula was almost complete. Just another half hour and he'd have it all tucked away in his brain and ready for the meeting at noon the next day. He let his brain relax for a few minutes before getting back to work, making the final touches to it and eventually crawling into bed.

~*~*~*~*~

The following day the team gathered at the BAU offices before departing for the location of the main compound. They convoy of SUV's parked just down the block and let Morgan and Reid out to walk the rest of the way. As they approached the steel door Reid looked up into the security camera, and waited. It took only 30 seconds for the door to hiss open with the sound of the hydraulics releasing. An older man Reid knew as Troy was waiting for them on the other side. He turned and beckoned them to follow with a silent hand, paying no attention to the FBI vests they wore on their chests.

They made their way to the main, vast study, where Connors usually sat next to the fire. Today was no different and as they entered he stood to greet them. "Ahh, Doctor Reid. And this is your friend," he paused for effect, "Agent… Morgan, right? Derek Morgan. It's a pleasure." As he drew closer he held out his hand, ever the gentleman, for Morgan to shake.

After a slight look of disgust, Morgan accepted the hand, and shook it shortly. "Wish I could say the same."

Reid glanced at Morgan, giving him a warning look. Not something he would usually do, but he was the one taking the lead here. He turned his attention back to Connors. "Sir," he said with a nod. "I regret to inform you that you're getting sloppy. We, my team, have been called in to investigate the drug overdoses you've been causing. And don't begin to deny it; I know it's you, because I worked for you."

"You always were a smart boy, but I'm afraid, if that's why you're here, I can't help you. You have no solid proof against me, no one in a court would ever take your word for it; the word of a junkie."

Reid glared, losing a bit of his cool. "Former junkie," he corrected. "And you might be right, but I have something you will want."

"And what might that be?" Connors asked; voice smooth as silk.

"The solution to your problem; the finished formula." Reid replied.

"I suppose you'll want something in return for this information?"

Reid gave a nod, "You'd be correct. I want the names of the people you've paid off to keep your operation running."

Connors raised a brow, the only sign that he hadn't expected that reply. "That's a high price you're asking for, and all I get in return is the formula… and the demise of my business. I think not."

"Your business will be fine. You have the money and the means to pay off new people when we take yours away, so really you lose nothing and neither do we."

After a moment of consideration Connors shook his head. "I have a better idea." He turned to one of his staff, a thin young man with dark hair, a large chunk of it covering one eye, and short in the back, and whispered in his ear. The man, who Reid knew only by his number, "Four", strode off and out of a different door than the one they'd entered in. Reid watched him carefully, not knowing much about him, but knowing enough that if he was fourth in line amongst the drop boys, that meant he was dangerous.

The air in the room grew thick with anticipation, as they waited for Four's return, only the sound of the crackling fire cut through the silence.

The door opened again, and two large men strode in, each holding the thin arm of another man who was face down, naked, and being dragged between them; knees and feet scraping on the rough industrial floor. Reid couldn't help the gasp that escaped his lips as he recognised the mop of curly black hair on the man in the middle. It took everything in him not to dash across the room, and make sure he was alright.

Instead he turned his gaze to Connors again. "What are you trying to pull?"

"Nothing, dear boy, nothing. I just figured you would prefer to have this piece of trash, rather than the names. This is something I'm willing to part with. Of course, he'll probably die in a few more days, at least with you he might last a week."

The man groaned. The voices he heard weren't making any sense to him. His boss was there, but there was another voice too… One he knew, but had to be imagining. The owner of the voice was dead, he was sure of it.

Reid glanced at Morgan then back to Connors, debating. Connors sighed and motioned to Four, who was standing behind the group of three. Four reached forward and grabbed the curls in his right hand, while producing an intricate knife from somewhere in the vest he was wearing. The blade touched the soft skin on the neck in front of him.

He kept his eyes closed, but could feel the knife at his throat, taunting him. This was it; Connors had finally decided to get rid of him. He'd lost track of the months, lost track of all time. But now he knew what time it was. It was time to die, and he was okay with that. He'd been hoping for it for a long time, but the day had never come, until now.

Slowly he leaned forward into the sharpened edge of the blade, trying to bring on the death faster. He barely winced as it nicked his skin enough to draw a slow but steady drip of blood.

Reid looked at Four in horror, watching the hawk-like gaze and the creepy grin as the blood started to fall. "Stop this!" Reid shouted. "I'll give you the formula, just let him go!" He took a step towards Connors producing a paper with the formula on it from his pocket.

Morgan reached for him but missed, "Reid, that's not what the plan is. You can't do that."

As the paper landed in Connors hands, Four backed off and the other two men let go of the arms they held, causing the man between them to fall with a thud onto the ground. He whimpered, licking his lips before whispering, "Please… Kill me. I can't… do this… anymore." His voice was hoarse.

Reid shot a look at Morgan, "I know you don't like him. I know you probably hate him. But he saved my life. Now I've saved his." He turned and jogged across the room falling to his knees in front of the body on the floor. Slowly he stroked the man's cheek, and brushed his hair from his face, noting that it was sticky with what seemed to be blood. "Hey… T? Tamesis? It's me, it's Reid. You're gonna be alright."

T blinked his eyes open and looked up at the blurry shape in front of him. "You? He told me you died. That you weren't coming for me. That I was going to die alone."

"You won't die. I promise. I'm gonna take you home with me." He looked over his shoulder at Morgan and pleaded with his eyes. "Help me; you're stronger than I am. I can't carry him out of here."

Morgan sighed, not liking this situation at all, but obliged to Reid's request.

As Morgan approached Reid looked over the wounds on the man he had shared his darkest hours with. Lashes, electrical and cigarette burns, other cuts and bruises; and that was only what he could see before Morgan picked him up. Reid stood, turning his attention back to Connors who sat with a smug smile on his face.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Doctor." He said, as Reid picked up his pace and followed Morgan out of the compound.