Doyle has kidnapped Elizabeth Prentiss to help along his dastardly, evil plan. And the team is going to find out how far he's gone.
***WARNING WARNING*** An inference to rape is made in the first part of the chapter. If this makes you uncomfortable, please scroll down to Garcia's part at the end.***WARNING WARNING***
This chapter is rated "M" for rape inference.
Sweet Glow of Mercy
Ian Doyle stood up. Keeping his back to the woman lying on the bed, he yanked on his jeans. Throwing on a t-shirt, , he ran a hand through his hair.
"You were pretty good," he remarked. "Better than I expected, but I still wonder where Emily could have inherited that ability to have a multiple orgasm from."
Elizabeth watched him with an expressionless look in her eyes as she kept the sheet tight around her body.
"She used to scream out as she came. Three…four times a night she used to rock my world. You didn't even whimper." Doyle sat down on the mattress. "I thought for sure that one move would have gotten some reaction from you."
He leaned over and brushed a lock of hair from her face.
"You do realize that now that I've used you to exorcise Emily's ghost, I should just kill you?" he asked. "But I won't. Your daughter is out there somewhere and you are what's going to bring her out into the open. You are going to help me kill her."
Elizabeth's lower lip trembled from anger and fear. "You won't get away with this. Someone is looking for me," she stated.
"They won't even know where to begin," Doyle chastised with a shake of his head. "And the FBI has no authority in England. Besides, they won't leave their bunker for fear that another car might send them to be with their hated BAU Director. Anyway, I have an eye on their every move."
"You have a mole in the FBI?" Elizabeth asked.
Doyle gave her a condescending look. "Oh, the negativity by that one word. I wouldn't call it my source a 'mole'; he just hates the team as much as I do."
"Who is he?"
"No one you would know. But his hatred for Aaron Hotchner matches mine for Emily." Doyle stood up. "Are you hungry?"
"No thank you."
"Oh come on, Elizabeth; it's been nearly two days…and after that work out we had, you have to be starving." Doyle smiled sardonically. "You're afraid I'm going to poison it. You should know me better than that. I'll send something up."
Elizabeth hesitated.
Doyle walked to the door and turned around. "You need to keep up your energy. I'm going to find out what made Emily who she is."
Elizabeth waited until the door was closed and the lock was turned before she rushed from the bed into the adjoining bathroom. Turning on the tap as far as it would go, she felt the steam rush up.
Dropping the sheet to the tiled floor, she stepped into the tub. As the scalding hot water hit her skin, she suppressed the urge to scream in pain. Bracing herself, she let the water run over her skin and decontaminate her body.
With shaking hands, she lathered the soap and scrubbed herself. Then she repeated. She kept repeating until she knew for sure the first layer of skin was gone.
As clean as she could be, she turned off the tap. Then she leaned her head against the cool tiles and wept.
*****
Garcia's fingers flew over the keyboard. She had one mission in life: hunt down and eliminate Ian Doyle.
Glancing at the clock, she paused as she read the time. It was already morning…well, afternoon. The day had passed by without her noticing. Morgan had tried to coax her out of her lair and down to the cafeteria, but she had begged him off. She had more important things to do than eat.
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.
"Pen?" JJ called out.
"Come in Jayje."
JJ's heels made a soft clicking sound on the tile as she approached. "Morgan said you were in here working. You need to be sleeping."
"I can't sleep, Jayje; I have to catch him."
JJ walked over and sat down on the desk top. In her hands was a brown bag and a large Styrofoam cup.
"I know, honey, but you have to get some sleep. We're worried about you."
"I have to get him," Garcia replied, her eyes never moving from the screen. Information flashed quickly, only to be replaced by something else.
JJ looked at her best friend tenderly. "You can still get rest. Ian Doyle will still be there when you wake up." She handed over the items. "Morgan said you haven't eaten. Take a minute and recharge."
Pausing, Garcia took the bag. Opening it, the aroma hit her. "A Reuben?" she whispered and lifted the aluminum wrapped sandwich. "Oh, Jayje, I love you." Quickly she devoured the meal.
"Feel better?" JJ asked.
Garcia nodded. "A little."
JJ grasped her best friend's hand lovingly. "Come on, you need some rest."
Garcia nodded. "Okay." She stood up. Maybe she could get a couple of hours to recharge. What was the worst Doyle could do in that time?
As the two women walked to the door, a beeping noise sounded. Garcia hurried back to the computers. Furiously her fingers flew as she typed in codes. With each passing second, her brow furrowed more as she followed the trail she was being led down.
JJ came over to watch. "What is happening?" she whispered. Garcia didn't reply; her intent was recovering the file that was sent.
"What's wrong?" JJ repeated as the silence stretched.
At that exact moment, a picture flashed up on the screen.
"That." Garcia pointed to the monitor.
Staring, JJ tried to make out the image. Slowly realization dawned on her. "Is that…?" she whispered.
Garcia bit her lip. "Yes."
"I have to tell Hotch."
*****
Sitting at his desk, Hotch was busy reading papers when a knock interrupted him.
"Come in," he offered. In a rush, JJ entered the room. Usually, cool and collect, the blonde was obviously upset, and he surmised it had something to do with the paper in her hand. "What's wrong?" he asked.
JJ thrust the paper toward Hotch. "You need to see this."
Hotch scanned the paper a couple of times. "Is this true?" he asked.
JJ nodded. "Doyle has Ambassador Prentiss."
