a/n: Special thanks to kathiann and demonbunny who both thought this was a good idea. I don't own any of the characters. I do own the mistakes. I hope there aren't many. Also, I nothing about Sacramento television stations. Just go with it LOL

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Chapter 4: Red John's Plan

6:45 a.m. Pacific Time

The next morning, the team arrived back at CBI headquarters at roughly the same time as they normally did. Lisbon was first followed by Cho. Cho had meant to be earlier since his niece, Cora, was flying in that afternoon, but he'd gotten sidetracked. He hoped Lisbon would have mercy on him and let him go pick her up anyway.

Grace showed up about fifteen minutes later, and Jane strolled in a few minutes behind Grace. He had a few things to take care of at home and had encouraged Grace to go ahead of him. As far as either knew, none of the team knew about their nightly co-habitation But Jane didn't really care if they did. He wasn't trying to hide anything. He was too old to hide things. If anyone asked, he'd tell the truth. Yes, Grace spent the night with him every night. Yes, it was to help her cope. No, they hadn't had sex. No, it hadn't crossed his mind.

Ten minutes after Jane arrived, Rigsby rolled in. Despite his activities the night before, his clothes were neatly pressed and his shirt and tie straight as an arrow. The only signs that he'd not been himself the night before were his slightly bloodshot eyes and disheveled hair. He spoke to no one as he took his place at his desk and began rummaging through his files. Sighing heavily as the headache he'd been fighting all morning began winning, he got up from his desk, went to the kitchen area and fixed himself a cup of coffee. The first of many he supposed he'd have that day. He would have been wrong.

Teresa Lisbon sat in her office watching the sad state of her team. She would have to something about it. It was her job to hold them together, no matter what was happening with them. She was getting pretty tired of all of their self-loathing crap though. They were a team, and they would get through hell and high water together. She couldn't decide if she wanted to yell at them or suspend them all until they got their damn acts straight. She felt compassion for them. Red John had gotten to her also, but it hurt to much to dwell on that. Instead of dealing with her own anger about what Red John had made her do (making her help him which in effect lead to Jane not getting his revenge) in any rational way, she had to fight the urge to take it out on the team. With every muscle in her body trying to restrain itself, she plowed open the door, and said, "Rigsby, Cho, Van Pelt, Jane, in here. Now." With that she shut the door and made her way to her desk. She sat on the corner and waited. She had to keep reminding herself that anger would get her nowhere except as the lead agent of a team with no members.

Cho was the first inside which didn't surprise Lisbon in the least. Grace was next followed by Jane. Rigsby slunk up the back. He was sober at least. That was a little progress she figured.

"Ok." she began in her most authoritative voice. She crossed her arms over her chest. "I know it's been hard for everyone. It has me too." They had all seemed to have forgotten that Red John had held her captive twice. She was nearly as traumatized as the rest. The difference was she held it in at work... or at least tried. She had a job and it needed to be done. Home, though... home was a different story. "But you have all got to snap out of it. No matter what, you have got to get a handle on your guilt." she looked at Rigsby. "-- and your anger." To Cho. "Your emotions." Grace. "And your self-loathing." her eyes stopped their voyage on Jane. "We are here to do a job. People need us, and I"ll be damned if Minelli disbands us because we can't deal with whatever little traumas Red John sends our way. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, ma'am." it was Van Pelt the first to answer. The newest agent was fearful of what would happen if she didn't. Fear tended to be a constant in her life now, even while spending her nights at Jane's house.

Cho and Rigsby nodded, and after a brief pause, Jane finally nodded briefly as well mainly to get out of the meeting as soon as possible and back to his couch. Self-loathing or not, faking sleep was much better than being fussed at by the 'boss'.

"Good." Lisbon replied, easing off of her desk and back to her chair. She felt better that the yelling was over (not that she'd actually yelled, but she had felt like the principal of a class full of adults). "Now--"

The door opened and Virgil Minelli stuck his head in. "You finished with your powwow yet, Agent Lisbon? There's something you all really need to see."

The team filed out of Lisbon's office, following Minelli to a TV set that sat in the kitchen area. "We got a call a few minutes ago from the news producer over at Channel 4 named Chris Sullivan." Minelli began. "He was frantic. It took a few minutes to calm him down. When he finally did, Sullivan told me that he'd gotten a call from a man who said he had a woman and would kill her if he didn't broadcast his webcam. The producer said he thought it was just a joke and hung up. Two minutes later, he got an email with the picture of a dead woman holding a sign."

"What did the sign say?" Lisbon asked, her throat growing dry. It couldn't be--

"It said that another woman would die if he didn't broadcast his feed asap. Mr. Sullivan said he feared not to." Minelli turned then and switched on the television. A busty blond woman with overly styled hair and a robust man with glasses sat at the anchor desk. Both looked visibly shaken. They were morning show anchors... paid to be perky. Nothing was perky about what was happening.

The woman was the first to speak.

"If there are any small children in the room, please send them out. The situation we find ourselves in here is nothing for them to see."

A live feed popped up in a small square next to the female anchor's head. It was a picture of a man, mid 30s, jet black hair and eyes.

"Simon." Grace said, her voice cold and lifeless. She wasn't even shocked. Of course it was Red John. When was it not?

"This man goes by the name of Red John and he has... requested some time to talk to the viewing public. Specifically the California Bureau of Investigation. Red John--" she said, letting him know it was his time to speak.

"Why thank you, Pam. And let me just say, you look absolutely stunning this beautiful morning. I watch Channel 4 every day...just for you, my darling." a broad smile filled his face and he licked his lips suggestively. When she didn't respond in any way he liked, he said, "Ms. Miller, I advise you to treat me nicely. I would hate for the death of another woman to be on the network's hands, wouldn't you?"

She nodded, and shut her eyes. A tear slipped down her cheek. The sight made him laugh even harder. "Don't worry, Ms. Miller. The next death won't be on your pretty little head. It will be on the CBI's." His jovial mood darkened as he took time to stare directly into his camera. "The reason I'm here speaking to you today is that I'm tired of running. I'm tired of killing... well that's a lie. I could never be tired of that. The thrill. The utter bliss it gives... gave me. The CBI knows my name.. not that it's done them any good catching up to me. I'm sure Misty Dixon wished you had gotten there sooner." His expression became almost nostalgic. "I know you've already found her. I know. She was sure that you would, but she assumed it would be before she died." As quickly as it changed somber, his mood shifted again. He was lighthearted again. "Anyway, I have decided that I to go out with a bang. To test the mental capabilities and loyalties of my good friend Patrick Jane." He leaned closer to the camera which was nothing more than a webcam. The room behind him was solid black. He wore a light gray shirt and dark gray pants. The lack of color made it look like they were watching an old black and white TV instead of a twenty inch flat screen. "Mister Jane-" he said in a low, playful voice. "You're watching, aren't you?" he raised his hand to the camera view and wiggled his fingers like he was waving high. "I do so hope that Sullivan man could do one thing right and let you know to tune in. How smart are you-- really-- Mister Jane? Not smart enough to save your wife and child. Not smart enough to save your friend the redhead." He closed his eyes and took a deep, ragged breath. "Letting that little redhead get away without having some more fun with her... well lets just say that I don't have many regrets, but that-- that's one. Is she watching too? I bet she is."

Grace flinched, but didn't speak. Her eyes were glued to the madman on the televison screen. "He's just taunting you, Van Pelt. Stay calm." Lisbon told her, knowing it wouldn't do any good.

Red John went on. "And what about the brunette? Is she watching? She liked me, Mister Jane. She did. Have you forgiven her yet?"

Lisbon's eyes shot to Jane instantly. It was something she'd been wondering a lot lately. If she did the right thing at Faith Kingston's house letting Red John go like that.

"And of course, the rest of the team. Kimball Cho, is it? Straight as an arrow Cho. And Wayne Rigsby. The newest convert to the religion of alcoholism. I hope you are all watching too. After all, any friend of Patrick Jane's is a friend of mine." His smile would have scared a devil. "Lets play a game, shall we, to determine who the smartest man in the room is. Once and for all--"

Standing and watching the bastard who had killed his family-- was threatening his friends, made Jane shutter with anger. If only he could reach inside the television and wring Red John's neck. He crossed his arms over his chest and focused on the monitor, unblinking. He knew that whatever Simon James had planned, it wasn't going to end well. But, then again, as long as it ended in Simon's death, then it would be worth it. Or so he thought at the time.

Red John smiled. "I have killed fifteen women that the CBI know about since 1998. Jane, that counts your lovely child who I made a woman right before I killed her."

If he was expecting a reaction from Jane, he didn't get one. Jane was frozen solid. The only time he moved was when Grace placed an understanding hand on his shoulder and he jerked away. He didn't want to feel comfort or peace or that everything would be okay. He wanted to focus on Red John, and all the ways he was going to torture him.

"I have either taken or will have taken fifteen women in the Sacramento area by the end of the day. Each hour I will kill one of them, just like this one." He moved so the audience could see a mangled female from lying lifeless behind him. Her throat had been slashed. It was to dark in the room to be able to tell her exact facial features. The crimson running down her neck was the only bit of color in the room.

"That's the one he killed so the producer would take him seriously and put him on the air." Minelli vocalized what the rest of the team already knew.

"This lovely lady's name was Erica Blue. I'm sure her family really wishes that she wasn't dead. She was going to graduate college tomorow. Business major. Pity." He gave an uninterested shrug and kept on talking. "That leaves fourteen. Fourteen women, Mister Jane. Every hour I will kill one woman if you don't find her in time. I'm not completely heartless. I will give you clues-- riddles as it were-- to help you find them. You find the girl, free her, and on to the next. Even if she dies, we move on. Fourteen lives hang in your hands, Mister Jane. Fourteen families are praying that you bring their daughters home safe. Fourteen loved ones hope that you can put your hatred of me away so you can focus on your task because, lets face it, you can't focus on finding me if you are trying to find the missing women. Who do you want more?" Red John looked like the cat who ate the canary. It wasn't a good sign.

Red John's posture changed as he looked into the camera more intensely. "Women of Sacramento. Heed my warning. No one is safe. I already have fourteen others of you picked out. Some are already with me, some will be found shortly. This girl--" he held up a picture of a very attractive woman. Late 20s with short, black, spiky hair. Her photo was taken recently and in it she looked frightened. "This is lucky lady number two. Her name is Cara Workman. She's just a whore with no real family so she'll be no real loss, but best to start low and work our way up, right Mister Jane? Get your mind exercised this morning before the real fun begins? First clue: I like the color red. It's so great to see. When I peer through your window, it's great to be me. The time is now exactly 7 am, Mister Jane. Cara dies at 8 a.m. unless you can find her. Good--"

Jane turned to leave before Red John had finished speaking to him. No smile crossed his lips. None of his youthful vigor could be found. He was already heading for the elevators when Lisbon caught him by the arm. "You aren't going anywhere until we can compose ourselves and get a game plan." she said firmly.

"Try and stop me." he said, walking around her and into the elevator.