Chapter 4

"What was the wife able to tell you?" Hotchner looked at Emily and Morgan, trying to divert their attention away from the fact that Michael and Reid were working together and seemed to be operating in a world all of their own. He was rather surprised that the consultant was Michael but then again not surprised since Reid mentioned that he had called him. He just didn't expect to see the Green Beret that impressed the hell out of Gideon in that part of the country. Nor did he expect that Detective Sophia Langston was his sister.

Normally that would have been grounds to be wary and he should have protested once he learned the truth but he didn't. He knew Michael well enough from meetings in the past that the man was discreet and kept personal separated from work. And he knew that Michael was risking a bit just getting them information that was considered security. It was better to minimize the hands that touched it and the man had a unique perspective on things.

Emily and Morgan knew that they had to stay focused even though it was rather amusing and interesting to watch Reid and Michael work together. She was still baffled how the two of them ever became friends but they did understand each other on the level regarding genius. And she would have enjoyed watching them work but as it were they needed to debrief if they were going to catch this guy. She answered, "She was still a little woozy from the pain killers but she was able to describe her attacker."

"Enough for a sketch?" Hotchner raised his brow.

"No," Morgan replied in a low tone.

"But she did describe the unsub as a male, similar in height to her husband but he was wearing black," Emily added.

"And she couldn't see the face?"

"She said that she couldn't see. It felt oily and greasy and she thought she felt wool," Morgan pointed out. He held out the notes from the interview to Hotchner. "Hotch, the guy caught her from behind and tried to strangle her with a wire."

Hotchner looked at the notes and the photos of the injuries suffered to Mrs. Harrison. "And what about the witness, the girl that found the wife?"

"Girl never saw the attacker but the police report said that there was definite struggle in the living room but nothing else was disturbed," Emily replied with a slight shrug, not liking it any more than Hotchner. "From what the police gathered, the wife was hit first and then the unsub waited for the victim."

"Sounds like a standard seizure op."

Hotchner looked up to see Michael walking up to him and holding out some sheets of paper. "Meaning?"

"Just making a comparison," Michael replied. He straightened up and took a breath and said, "Well you guys can rest assured that you don't have to worry about terrorists here stateside."

"You're sure?" Hotchner wasn't doubting Michael having seen him work before. He just wanted to be sure before he briefed the section chief that there was no reason to up the alert.

"Positive," Michael replied. He tapped on the sheet of paper, "Simply because not all the writings left are consistent with the group that was suspected." He walked over to the whiteboard and picked up a dry erase marker and started writing on the board.

Hotchner, Morgan and Emily watched as Michael started writing in script on the board. At that moment Rossi walked in saying, "I spoke to the coroner about the previous three victims." He paused when he spotted Michael and frowned slightly. "Who is that?"

Morgan gestured at Michael, "That is Detective Langston's consultant. Reid's friend."

"Kid had a friend?"

"Roommates from Cal Tech," Michael said as he finished writing what he was writing on the board.

Hotchner tried to keep the smile in check as he gestured at Michael, "David Rossi, meet Michael Nassar."

Rossi looked at Michael as he turned to greet him with a slight wave before turning back towards the board. "Didn't we see…?"

"He has clearance," Hotchner replied in a low tone. He then whispered, "He's helped us on occasion through Gideon. Reid doesn't know."

It made sense to some degree but Rossi was still surprised. He remembered seeing him at the BAU some months back. The office had been buzzing about the tall guy that just strolled through the bullpen and then waltzed out like he belonged. From first appearances, Rossi thought he looked like a college professor that the kids thought was cool given that he was wearing a logo t-shirt and over that a blazer. In response to Hotchner's explanation, he replied, "Huh. Well… the coroner… What is he doing?"

At that moment, Michael was marking on Reid's map and making notations on it. Reid was merely standing and watching and occasionally nodding. Hotchner looked and said, "My guess is making sense of Reid's geographical profile."

Rossi shook his head and glanced over at Morgan and Emily who were also watching what was going on. He continued on his report, "The coroner said that all three victims suffered immense torture. There were hints of electrical burns, signs of attempted drownings, broken bones, lacerations… Until finally they were killed with a single slice of wire nearly severing the heads."

"So we're looking at someone who hates military," Morgan pointed out, once he was distracted from the musings of Reid and Michael. "We suspected this already."

"But this… we're looking at…" Rossi shook his head trying to make sense.

"Maybe we should check out the other crime scenes," Morgan pointed out.

Hotchner nodded in agreement, "I agree. David… take Michael and go the most recent dumpsite. Morgan, Emily, take the other two." At the look he was getting he explained, "He's a resident of Hyde Park. He can offer a unique perspective." He gave Rossi a look.

Rossi nodded in understanding and looked at the two looking at the board. He took a breath and walked over and tapped Michael on the shoulder. When he had the younger man's attention he said, "Come on. I need your perspective on something."

Michael studied Rossi for a moment and agreed to it. He put down his pen and made to follow after shutting his laptop. Rossi wasn't sure what Hotchner was getting at with this but it was to provide a point. More likely it was to use his help since he was in a consultant position. He had to admit that he was curious about him and it certainly explained the change in Reid's behavior.

Hotchner watched as Rossi and Michael left the room after Morgan and Emily left. At that moment Sophia walked in and he watched her study the scene. He was expecting her reaction but he was surprised at the manner she approached and asked in a calm but it held a dangerous note tone of voice, "What do you think you're doing, Agent Hotchner?"

"Trying to gain some perspective, Detective Langston," Hotchner replied while taking in the fact that Sophia was looking at him like he had gone out of his mind. In a lower tone, he added, "I know he's your brother. Reid…"

"I know Spencer reached out to him but that was all this was to involve. Information on potential terrorist threats," Sophia replied in an equally low tone. "What are you doing involving him more?"

"You and I both know that Mike has a unique perspective and focus. And I suspect he may be able to tell us more for when we deliver the profile."

Sophia looked at Hotchner. She knew that she was ratted out as Michael's sister but from the look of things, the FBI agent wasn't going to hold it against her. The fact that he was assuming she knew about Michael's way of thinking told her that he was asking her to not get too excited over this. She replied, "I do know that but your team member called him and he agreed to help him with what he requested."

Hotchner looked at the detective. He sensed that there was more to it than what she was telling. "And he is here as a consultant."

"On the military side. He's not an agent, Agent Hotchner."

"No, but he has consulted on a few cases with the BAU previously."

Sophia felt her eyes widened. This was one of those moments where she wished her brother was in the room. Then she would embarrass him by taking him out and giving him a good slugging he deserved. It explained why he would call and say that he wasn't coming home on his leaves though she knew there was more to that.

Hotchner watched her reaction and realized that Michael hadn't said anything. It would make things difficult but… "I see he hasn't told you."

"No."

"Detective Langston… Sophie," Hotchner paused when he used her given name. "I think you know that there is more to this case and there is an angle that while we have some access, it doesn't get us very far. Mike can go the rest of the way and he knows how to explain without giving too much away. I think…"

"I understand," Sophia interrupted. She looked at Hotchner and continued, "I understand that position. Understand mine: I admit that he is my brother but you should know that he has the penchant of digging himself into a hole and doesn't always see that he does."

"Only for perspective," Hotchner assured. "No other field work."

It was hardly reassuring but Sophia was able to nod, "Alright. I feel bad for your man Rossi though."

~0~0~0~0~

Richard heard a squeak or a creak and his body started to come to wakefulness. He had no idea how long he had been unconscious. He knew he passed out after the last round of shock therapy. His limbs were still tingly from the electrode that had been applied to his skin. He was lucky that he was alive but then again it wasn't the volts that got you. It was the amps.

He was sweating and he shivered. It wasn't cold down there but he felt cold. In between the shocks and the beatings, he had been doused in ice cold water bath multiple times. His core body temperature must have dropped or something. He sniveled slightly since his nose was runny. He glanced down at his hands and noticed the intermittent shaking. Staring at them caused the sharp cold to run down his spine.

The room was warm and humid. Like all the heat, the enclosed space, which looked like a basement, was in there and then adding the sweat and water moisture… it was like a sauna. He took a couple of gulps but his throat was dry. And he was in the dark. The only light was from the window that was way too small to crawl through. It's what gave him the idea that he was in a basement. He looked around, blinking blearily since his limbs were just lumps of flesh.

Soundwise, there was nothing but the occasional thump from above. Another indicator that he was in a basement. So it could be that he wasn't far from his home. And most homes within the Hyde Park area would have some sort of basement or even a shed. They were historic and bungalow homes. All around nice neighborhoods. He and Kitty were planning on raising their family there. Now he wasn't sure since he wasn't even sure that she was okay. He saw her on the ground bleeding from a wound in her head and she was unconscious when he was hit from behind.

Rotating his shoulders, Richard winced slightly. His wrists were still bound tightly to the arms of his chair. They were red from the strain from the shock attacks. His fingers twitched as he looked at them. It was like something else was controlling his limbs. He took a couple of breaths and looked around. He wasn't sure about getting free but if he did manage to get out of here, he would be able to tell them something.

The trouble was that it was dark. There was nothing for him to see to give him any idea where he was. He shifted and listened to the creaking in the chair. It caused him to pause. He shifted again and listened to the creaking sound. He listened. Something was loose and maybe he could use that to his advantage. That still left the problem of getting free meaning out of this room and finding help. For now though he just had to concentrate on getting out of that chair.

Sighing, Richard looked up in the ceiling. The light was off so there wasn't a worry of searing his eyes but the darkness hardly helped. It was a reminder of being in Afghan, the dark nights. In some instances, even with base lighting it was almost pitch black outside. For the most part though, he was always on comms for the team when they went out. He was hardly ever in the field if necessary but he did have his training.

Focusing he shifted to listen to the creaking. It was the usual creaking. That wasn't going to work. He made a face and looked down at his wrists. That seemed to be his only option. It was going to take time and be painful but… anything to do to get free. He wrapped his fingers under the edge of the armrests and started pulling upwards.

It was difficult to get the leverage needed to yank it completely off. His legs were tied to the legs of the chair but that wouldn't be a problem. Not now at least. He yanked as best as he could on the armrests but jiggling them. He felt the bindings cut into his wrists and grimaced at the pain but he pushed that aside. He kept pulling and jiggling. After about a few minutes he stopped almost groaning in frustration. It was like the armrests were welded on. He tried again after resting a few minutes.

It was a repetitive pattern of tug and rest. Richard kept trying to loosen both armrests. He could feel the slickness of his wrists against his bindings. He couldn't tell how long it was before he felt the slight give at the armrests. It wasn't much but it was enough to give hope that he may eventually be able to get himself free. It was a start. He gave a dry chuckle of relief that he could jiggle it without pulling so hard. He still had work to do though if he was going to get out of there. He took a breath to prepare for the long haul in terms of sitting there.

He was prepared to go at it again when all of a sudden he was bombarded with loud metal music. It was like being at a rock concert and he was too close to the speakers. He closed his eyes but he couldn't put his hands to his ears to block it out. It felt like his eardrums were going to blow since the pounding hurt his head. He was forced back into the one time that he was actually on an op with his team.

The explosion was quick and seemed to appear out of nowhere. It was an IED set up to ambush them. Richard tensed automatically as he gripped his weapon. The lead vehicle was obliterated from the IED. Their way was blocked. They had to take cover and maneuver to get out.

The gunfire was rapid and loud. Richard though had to relay their coordinates. He held his weapon and looked out at the landscape while trying to get help. It filled his ears and pounded in his head. He watched as his friend took a round and went down. He turned just as he saw an insurgent pointing an RPG at them.

Richard shook his head and looked up at the ceiling. He wished he had a wall to bang his head against. It was one of the reasons why he decided to walk away completely after his service was up. Now he was being tormented by the stuff that youngsters thought was hip. He almost wanted to laugh at his reference for the kids. He was getting old but he was still considered pretty young and in shape. At the moment though, the music was getting on his nerves.

The music continued to pound, causing a pounding sensation in his temples. Richard moaned as he threw his head back and looked at the darkened ceiling. Even though the music was pounding in his head, he knew that he had to focus on the task that he had set himself to. Sighing he looked at his wrists even though he couldn't see them. Wrapping his fingers around the edges of the armrests, he started pulling and tugging to continue his campaign of getting them loose.

It was like being back in Afghanistan working with all the noise like when they were ambushed. The upside was that he didn't have to worry about bullets or RPGs flying at him from insurgents and Taliban. He could focus on getting his arms free. It would still be a struggle but as it seemed, he had all time in the world. Well, at least until his captor decided that he was going to come in and have another session. He would just work until the next round.

The next round came sooner than later. He had managed to loosen the armrests more when the loud music shut off. The silence was so deafening he was still hearing the pounding beats in his ears. It felt like they were ringing and he was exhausted. He stopped what he was doing so he wouldn't be caught by his captor. He looked in the direction of the door the moment that he heard the striker start to click and move. He knew that he couldn't be too still or his captor would know that something was going on. He swallowed feeling the sudden thirst.

The light came on overhead. Richard blinked from the sudden invasion of light. He gritted his teeth and looked downward. It allowed him to see the state that his wrists were in. They looked nasty from all his struggling to get the handles out but that would mean nothing if he couldn't get out of this situation. In any case, they were in consequential. He took in a couple of breaths but didn't look up to avoid any possibility that he would get struck for looking at his captor.

Richard said nothing but listened as his captor circled around his chair. He continued to look at the ground and let his eyes wander to try and see if he could see more into the room. His captor had closed the door so he couldn't see beyond the door. It seemed the point was to keep him isolated enough so he had no idea where he was at. Did that mean that he was going to be released? It was highly unlikely but he figured that as long as he didn't look at his captor's face, he wasn't going to die.

"Tell me what I want to know," the voice rasped.

Richard frowned but didn't look at anything other than straight down. It was mostly to prevent from being struck unnecessarily but there was no guarantee of that. He did venture, "I don't know what you want to know.

The smack to the back of the head was to be expected. Richard went with the force of the blow since resistance could have been more painful. He didn't say anything since he figured that there was a certain set of roles to be played and if he did it, it might go over better and maybe get him free. He coughed a little from the impact and spat out spit. It was a little bloody meaning he still had a cut in his mouth.

"You know everything. Tell me what it is!"

"What do you want to know?"

Another punch came across his face. Richard felt his cheek split. He shouted, "I don't know what you're talking about!"

Another punch came followed by, "Tell me!"

"I don't know what you are talking about!"

The next couple of blows ended up almost knocking him over. Richard felt the chair totter precariously to the point that his feet were pressing on the floor. He couldn't get support since his legs were tied to the legs of the chair. He would have fallen over completely if his captor hadn't grabbed the back of the chair and pulled back to right it but it wasn't gentle. The chair rocked as it righted itself. It felt like his teeth were rattling.

Richard took a couple of breaths since the rush of adrenaline had him want to pant but that would make him hyperventilate. He twisted his lower jaw to ease the pain that was in face from the punches. He twisted his arms and clenched his hands in fists as best as he could. It wouldn't help trying to loosen the bindings on his wrists but it helped to temper the fact that he was getting pissed off at this guy. He didn't know him. He didn't recognize him. So what the hell did he want with him?

His captor started moving around and muttering. Richard lifted his head and started to listen. He couldn't hear much but it seemed like he might have agitated his captor. He could hear growling and that didn't sound good in his book. He tried to be nice about it and relate to the guy, "Look, I really don't know what you are looking for… but if you tell me… I can help you."

There was a slight pause. Richard tensed slightly, thinking that a blow was going to come. When it didn't, he continued, "If you will tell me what you are looking for… I can help you."

The silence wasn't reassuring. It was more reassuring when Richard caught a blow across the face. The force was hard enough to rock the chair again. Richard had turned his head to go with the force of the blow but the reaction merely helped carry the chair in the same direction. He fell back and landed hard on the ground. It jarred his teeth when the back of the chair hit the ground and it sent a dull pain up his spine.

Richard found himself looking up at the bright light and the shadow of his captor looming over him. He felt his breath freeze in his throat as he could only stare up. The two other directions were to the right and left but either would probably result in a kick to the face but that wouldn't stop the guy from doing that face up. He looked up at his captor looking down at him. The way he was looking at him looked like he was going to end his life.

Suddenly his captor bent downward and Richard held his breath as his captor's arms reached towards him, grabbed the back of the chair and righted him up. The movement caused some confusion for Richard. He blinked until it dawned on him that his captor wasn't going to kill him, if he was, not yet. That was a small comfort but it didn't change that he was still a prisoner.

"We're going to try this again," the captor's raspy voice said. "You are going to tell me what I want to know."

Richard was going to say something when a hand clamped hard on his shoulder and something entered the opposite shoulder. He felt the pressure until something pierced the skin and dug into his shoulder. He gritted his teeth to muffle the pain that was entering his shoulder. All he could concentrate on was that white hot stabbing pain in his shoulder.

Then the raspy voice came and it was low and in Richard's ear, "You are going to tell me everything about your supply operations."

Richard gritted his teeth from the pain. Whatever it was still was in his shoulder but he couldn't turn to look at it. His captor was on the side where he was stabbed. He decided to answer the question, "What supply operations?"

The next thing he knew was the twist of whatever it was in his shoulder. Richard grunted and cried out since it hurt like hell. He couldn't do much more since his captor said, "Tell me about your supply operations."

Richard panted, hissing through his teeth, trying to breathe through the pain. His captor was waiting for an answer. He looked straight ahead into the darkness. It was clear to him that no matter what he said or didn't say… he was going to get pain.

A/N: Looks like Mike more or less meets the team and Hotch is getting him involved much to Sophie's displeasure. And the unsub is getting busy. Stay tuned for more Heart-Blood Cement...