Hey there! It's been a while, but I've been a bit busy with going to back to school and stuff. Anyway, before I ramble about my GCSE's and college and stuff, I must bring you Chapter 2 of The Law.

Enjoy!

!Warning: Torture takes place in this chapter!


Matthew was nervous, now. All day he'd been waiting for the FBI Agents to arrive and, with news that their plane had landed only ten minutes ago, his body had finally begun to betray him: muscles all over his body were beginning to shake and the worries he'd been trying to overcome were hazing his vision. All he could think of was the blood left by his fellow officer – his friend – in the garden of that house. The FBI would help, but he was more anxious than he'd ever been in his entire life.

What if they decided the case wasn't good enough for their expertise? What if the town was too small? There'd been no murders, why would they investigate?

"Snap out of it, Matt!" The detective declared, banging his fist on the table. "Breath... breath..." he sung to himself like a mantra. Then, he sighed. "I'm too young for this." He was: barely even past thirty years old, but it was his skills, his expertise and his profound knowledge that landed him the job.

There was a faint knock on the door, and Kate, one of the younger officers, stepped through underneath the archways. "Sir? The FBI Agents are here," she said, peeking her head round the table to find Matthew with his head in his hands. "They'll find him, Sir," she added.

"I know," Matthew said, looking up at her.

He turned his head away from her and, giving Kate an acknowledging glance, she led Matthew to the two Agents standing in the crowded, claustrophobic space that was called 'Killsperg County Police Department'. Here we go, Matthew thought to himself as he dodged through panicked crowds of worrying officers, desperate to find some kind of evidence left by the kidnapper.

"Hello, Agents, I'm Detective Matthew Howard," he said, shaking both of their hands.

"I'm Jennifer Jureau, the Communications Liaison for the Behavioural Analysis Unit, we spoke on the phone," the blonde agent greeted rather mechanically, almost as if she said it every other day. Jennifer then smiled, "but you can call me JJ." Ah, some warmth and humanity. "This is SSA Emily Prentiss," JJ said, directing Matthew towards the dark brunette.

"Hi," Emily said, painting a sweet smile along her somewhat serious features. It managed to calm him down a tone.

"I'm so glad you're here, we need all the help we can get. It's not often a cop goes missing," Matthew said, his voice slightly hoarse from nerves.

"We're happy to help," JJ smiled.

It was weird how different but how alike the two women were: on one side of the spectrum, there was the pretty, sweet-faced blonde who seemed delicate, like someone you felt the need to protect; on the other hand, though, was a tough, beautiful brunette, who you knew could stand well on her own two feet. Yet, they were the same – they knew how to help calm the situation down with just smiles. In an instant, Matthew could see that the family-like connection every officer in the room had together would be the same with the FBI.

Maybe that was how the Law Enforcement worked – family.

"I've got a room set up in the back. I don't think it's what you're used to, but it was all I could manage," Matthew said as he motioned his body to a room near his office in the end of a large hallway.

"I'm sure we'll manage. As long as we have the evidence, a table and a board, we'll be fine," Emily said optimistically as Matthew led them down the hallway.

Once Matthew had directed JJ and Prentiss towards the room they'd been allocated, everything seemed to stop: there were no frantic officers scampering about to and fro with a nervous edge and onset panic. It was peaceful. Matthew had chosen the room well; they would all need to think with their own sense of peace if they were going to find the guard and the cop, not phones going off everywhere with hungry local journalists with the replies of deranged officers. It was pure chaos back there.

"I'm must warn you about the media around here. There are so many young aspiring journalists that want to get a big story in the paper to get a better job elsewhere, and this situation is ideal," Matthew started, ruffling his hair even more, trying to remember all the pointers he'd been going over his head for the past few hours. "Also, the people working here are going to get cranky if you don't turn up with something they can work with: anything you come up with will help us. Don't hesitate to tell us anything."

"We won't," Prentiss said whilst opening one of the evidence boxes laid out along the table.

"It's also the town. Everyone's getting really worried that Alex and Chris might not come back and that anyone could be taken next. If you suspect anyone, please let us know and we can bring them in. It might calm the town down too," he said.

"Don't worry, as soon as the rest of our team arrives, we'll be able to come up with comprehensive profile," JJ said sweetly whilst helping out Prentiss sort through everything found in the first crime scene. "And I know how to handle the media, don't worry," she said calmly, smiling when Matthew stopped messing his hair around.

"Thank you," he said just before he turned back down into the hallway, leaving the agents to their own knowledge.

"Don't worry, Chris, you'll be okay," he murmured to himself before heading back into the frustrating chaos that he was supposed to control.


It's just a dream, Alex, you'll wake up soon. This nightmare will be over and then you can go home to your beautiful dog, Callie. Yeah, you remember Callie don't you? Your beautiful border collie who is probably tearing up the sofa again. Yes, you do remember her. Think of her. Think of your mother: she wouldn't be able to function without you. She's going to see you tomorrow at the home and you can tell her that all this was just a nightmare. She'll hug you and love you and you'll worry about her because you wish she wasn't in the home. She's too young to be at the home. Then you'll go get coffee and some take out to share with Callie, and then you'll head to your shift at the museum.

No, not the museum!

Alex woke with a start. He woke up to the rattling of chains, the stench of concrete, mould and the unmistakable metal aroma of blood that was now dripping from his wrists. Everything hurt along his body: even in the edge of his vision, he could see how swollen and bruised his cheeks were from the... beating he'd received from his captor; his lungs felt like would explode whenever he breathed and, judging by the flaring pain his ribs had been screaming at him since he woke up, he guessed his ribcage had been broken, or at least fractured. He could remember the ice-cold feel of the metal baseball bat the man owned crashing down hard against his bones.

He didn't want to look at the rest of his body; the pain was enough to scare the hell out him.

Then, he started to become just a little bit more aware of his surroundings, a little bit more aware of what was going on next to him. Moans of pain were getting louder as he became more assertive, with dull, familiar, blunt sounds smacking against a writhing body next to him. He planted his feet solidly to the ground below him and propped his body up to a standing position, his arms becoming stiff from their release off the chains. As he pushed his weight up, he could feel a sharp pain explode in the shin of his right leg.

Damn, it's probably broken, Alex thought sadly.

"...let this happen! Why!" A man hollered next to him, no, screamed next to him. The figure had accumulated ski goggles that hide his eyes that lay underneath red tinted plastic, along with a black beanie hat that revealed small whispers of dark brown hair that had been badly tucked underneath the fabric. That was good: he was going to need that description of his captor when he managed to get to the police.

If he got to the police, that is.

"Why did you let this happen, tell me!" The man yelped breathlessly, lowering the bat as he panted more of the room's disgusting air into his lungs like a dog.

The other person, who was now gasping and groaning from an identical pair of chains next to Alex, barely managed to look into the red reflection of the ski mask as blood collected into a pool below him.

"I – I don't know what... what you're talking about..." The other prisoner trailed.

But he wasn't just another prisoner, it was a cop; a police man. It was Chris Kirk. He knew him from around town. He'd even talked to his wife and his kids when they bumped into each other at the store just inside the town centre. Alex had been planning to get his mother some nice food for her birthday, which was the next day, so he decided to make her favourite Victoria Sponge cake – raspberry jam filling the centre with fresh cream topped with a helpful amount of sugar. Not strawberry jam, she hated the stuff – with a few packets of her favourite chocolate biscuits with special Earl Gray tea. It was delicate, simple, and the result made a nice day for his mother, however, one of Chris' kids had accidently ran into him when Alex had turned a sharp corner. The child had knocked over all the ingredients for his cake, and his mother had been frantic, apologising every few seconds. The kid – Alfie, Alex thought – was extremely guilty, and picked up all the items. It was the first time Alex had properly spoken to the family, though he saw them around town a lot.

Now, Chris and Alex were trapped.

"What?" Their captor said, tightening his grip on the bat.

"I said, I don't know what you're talking about," Chris repeated, mustering up some strength Alex hadn't had before.

"How could you not know?" The man snarled, lifting the bat so that Chris backed up against the wall slightly.

Alex dared to jump in. "He said he didn't know, leave it at that," Alex said, cringing as the hollow mask turned to face him. Chris whipped his neck round to see Alex awake, bloody and terrified at suddenly drawing the attention to him.

"Ah, I see you're awake now," the deadly masked man said, tapping the bat. "I don't know how the two of you don't understand what I'm saying."

"Well, explain it then..." Alex said timidly, anything to stop the bat from hitting him again.

Even with the mask on Alex knew the man had been confused at his suggestion, but the slender figure straightened, towering above Alex's cowering position by the wall. "This town used to be good, so full of rich history. The museum which you were supposed to be guarding has been losing works and artefacts that told a beautiful story of Killsperg, but now most of them are gone. I once saw one of the paintings being torn up and used as rolls for people to sniff drugs. I had a mental breakdown that day and swore vengeance to the town for its lazy 'saviours'.

"And you," he continued, turning his ski mask to face Chris. "You were supposed to find the criminals, find them and put them to justice. This town deserves that justice, but your precious leader Mr Matthew Howard deemed it as a case you couldn't approach right away. 'We'll look into it as soon as we have the time', I think was what he said to me and guess what, nothing happened. Nothing at all," he said. Alex was shaking in his chains now, the cold touch of the air stroking his skin until his arms were covered in goose bumps. Night must have been drawing in.

"You will pay for what you've done. After all, every action has an equal and opposite reaction," the man said, a growl escaping his lips.

Every action has a- who does this guy think he is? Alex told himself.

"We haven't done anything wrong," Chris blurted.

Their captor snarled and drew his bat up at the remark; however, instead of hitting Chris, he smashed the metal body of the baseball bat down on Alex's lowered head.

He remembered nothing more from the conversation afterwards.


Reid and Rossi had just begun to pull up by the curb which was situated only a few feet away from the museum. The gas was turned off once Rossi braked the car, and both agents climbed out the SUV and into the dull building standing in front of them.

"No wonder this place gets robbed a lot," Rossi exclaimed whilst examining piece of broken wire fence that had been used as a makeshift wall for one of the exhibition rooms. "Even if you only looked through a couple of gaps in this fence, you'd be able to see the entire room inside."

"Not to mention that the wall would cast a large shadow inside; just look at how bright the room is compared to how dark this tiny crevice is," Reid added. "The Unsub probably knew this was here and planned the attack from here."

Rossi began to uncoil the fence from the loose nails it hung from, earning a confused look from the genius standing next to him.

"What are doing?" Reid finally asked as Rossi crawled through the hole in the wall and began to pin the fence back to its original position.

"Get inside and sit where Alex Helders would have sat for his shift," he instructed.

"Alright," Reid groaned as he straightened himself up and walked round to the front doors of the museum. To prove their point of being a target of robbery, the locks had slight scrapes around the metal plates surrounding the keyhole. It indicated to Reid that many drunk, high or unorganised burglars had tried to invade the building in the past. Whether they'd been successful or not, Reid didn't know. All he knew was that he needed to cut the yellow 'Crime Scene' tag before he could allow himself to enter the museum.

The main hall of the museum was fairly dull, with only one small, compact reception area, companied with a few local information guides on the desk, and a potted plant – which was in desperate need of some water. Reid would have called it quaint if the walls hadn't been chipped and had paint beginning to flick off the surface, or the fact that the place had an... eerie quality to its nature.

Reid quickly made his way to the left wing of the building's ground floor, taking a few leaflets with him as he examined each room he passed through, and was welcomed with the impatient voice of his fellow agent.

"What took you so long?" Rossi grunted?

Reid rolled his eyes, scanning the room in search of Rossi. "I was only gone a few minutes, but I think I might have gotten something that may interest you."

"Go one," Rossi said.

"Okay," Reid started, flicking the first leaflet over as he walked over to the chair Alex had been sitting on when he was abducted. "Killsperg's Museum is one of the main landmarks of our town. Inside this glorious building contains secrets and treasures that belong to our beautiful town and offer a story no other town in America has to offer. We have talented artists dated back to hundreds of years ago, still preserved. We have historical artefacts that show what our town could have been like generations ago coupled with accounts from famous leaders who once ruled and protected out town," Reid finished. "I think this piece of information is dated, as the picture that's captioned with it looks almost the exact opposite of what the building looks like today: no dirty walls, no dusty shelves, and no damp on the floor and no paint flicking off – Rossi? Where are you?"

Silence.

"Rossi?" Reid called out again, flipping the pamphlet closed. "Are you there Rossi?"

Instinctively, Reid felt his fingertips move towards the handle of his gun and his eyes moved to the hole both Rossi and he had examined around seven minutes ago. Rossi wasn't there anymore.

"Can you see me now, kid?" Rossi whispered behind Reid as soon as he stood up from his chair.

"What-" Reid gasped, shocked as he turned around to face Rossi burst into a fit of giggles. "It's not funny."

"It kind of is," Rossi snickered.

"Anyway-" Reid interrupted, eager to change the subject. "It appears from the police report that there was blood on the floor about... here," he pointed out, walking just a little bit ahead of him to find a faded pink stain across the surface of the shiny ground below his feet. "Blitz attack, most likely."

"I agree. The Unsub probably smashed the back of the security guard's head." He then tugged slightly at the fabric of Reid's jacket, "and then dragged him out the back into his car," he continued as he lead Reid to a door crudely labelled 'Fire Escape' in glowing green paint. Reid could picture a child painting the sign; how desperate had this town gotten?

"The Blitz attack suggests someone who's disorganised and weak, especially co-elated with the dragging technique. Someone who was strong would have picked their victim up and someone organised would have formulated a plan such as drugging or coaxing their victim out of their location," Reid said.

Rossi pushed open the fire escape, and was met with the wilderness of the back woods that encased the museum from the front view of the building. The ground by the edge of the trees was dusty and ragged, several tyre marks chiselled into the ground. The trail of tyre prints led into a beaten road inside the forest, which, from the view of Reid and Rossi, seemed to wind into the forest like a maze.

"The Unsub must know the area well enough to be able to know a route so secret," Rossi remarked.

"So, the Unsub is local," Reid inferred, stepping out into the clearing. "The Unsub probably has his victims out in the woods..." he continued, looking back at Rossi with pleading eyes. "Can we look? We might find them,"

Rossi moved his eyes to the ground, knowing all-too-well Reid's puppy dog eyes; they could melt even the toughest of men if Reid did them right. "You know we can't Reid, not without enough information. Plus, considering he's attacking law enforcement, he might have an interest in us," Rossi said, turning his body to face the museum. "I think we should head back to the Police Department and tell the group what we've come up with."

"Okay," Reid said, following Rossi. "There's just one thing I'm not sure about on this case."

Rossi blinked. "Go one."

"Why take a security guard from a derelict museum that means nothing to this town anymore? If you've been wronged by the justice system, why take a security guard unless something happened here? Something that the Unsub relates too..."

"I think you're onto something, kid," Rossi said as he shut the back door, ignoring the amount of dust that began to circle him as he slammed the door shut.

However, what both agents failed to notice was the security camera facing down upon them from the top corner of the room, watching their entire conversation. He'd watched them sneak into his museum without a care in the world, ignoring the 'Crime Scene' tag that had been the only useful thing this town's law enforcement had been able to provide. They'd practically broken into his sacred shrine of the town that saved him; broken into the only thing he felt needed protecting.

One of them was going to pay for trespassing his building: the older, stockier guy seemed like a fighter who could stop the attack, but the tall, skinny guy? He seemed intelligent – far too intelligent – enough to work out what might ensue, but all he needed to do was knock the guy out like the others.

Only one more person to go before their actions would be met with the cruel severity the justice system of this town had forgotten about. Just one more.


Sorry about how long it took to update and I swear the exciting stuff is going to happen soon, I promise! Hope this was a good chapter.

I'll update soon!

PS. So, you know how I live in England and can't watch the BRAND NEW series of Criminal Minds... how have the first couple of episodes been? Enjoy them America... you don't know how lucky you are...