Anyone who lives in the mountains won't be surprised by the unexpected gulley washer that bombarded Dave and Emily. Trust me, they can get pretty bad. But it does delay the bad guys from going out after our profilers. Unfortunately, it does mean that they will be taking residence in Dave's cabin. Orkin is going to have a heck of a time fumigating that place when all is said and done! Well, James hasn't checked in for shift change and now the ball is going to start rolling. Plus, Dave gets the last laugh on the crooks and their get away plans. Sweet!


Despertar

An eerie silence fell over the Luray Sheriff's department. For the past hour Sheriff Ronald "Gonzo" Gonzalez had patiently made calls to the Sheriff departments in Manassas, Royal, and Waynesboro trying to locate his deputy. James was a good kid, a little goofy and nerdy, but overall a hard working and dedicated young man. Sheriff Gonzalez could see young James taking over the responsibilities if and when he should ever decide to retire.

Another call and another disappointment. Maybe he had gotten caught up in the storm and pulled over at the diner in Royal. "Buck!" Gonzo called out to the deputy on desk duty. "Do you remember the number to the Rosie's Diner in Royal?"

"I'll get them on the phone ASAP!" Buck replied.

Gonzo looked at the weather radar on his computer screen. Yes! The storm was moving out. Once it did, he and his boys could get out and look for James. He knew how it appeared, but that little group in Luray had practically grown up together, played football together, and Sheriff Gonzalez had watched it all from a far. He had even caught them in a couple of sticky situations. But they straightened out and when they decided to pursue law enforcement, he took them under his wing---he was their "father", and he regarded them as the sons he and his wife could never have.

God have mercy if anything happened to James!

"Sheriff; I got Rosie on line one," Buck called out. Hanging up, he began writing the possible places James could be. He knew the gulley washers in the mountains could be hell, and he hoped that James hadn't been caught in a flash flood and swept down into a ravine.

Gonzo pressed the line. "Hey Rosie. Gonzo here. By any chance did Deputy Hayes come into your place to escape the storm?....Uh huh....When was the last time you saw him?" Gonzo straightened up in surprise. "Really? Okay. Okay. Call me if he comes in. Bye." He hung up the phone.

Buck stood up and walked over. "What's wrong?"

"She said he came in earlier, put in a lunch order to pick up later, but never showed up."

"That's not right; Jimbo has never forgotten to pick up a lunch order."

Gonzo's expression changed dramatically. "Get the guys on the line and tell them to get in here on the double!"

Buck rushed to complete the order. Within 20 minutes the two other deputies rushed thru the front door, shaking rain from their slickers. Quickly they were briefed on James' sudden and unexplained disappearance. As they racked their brains, a light bulb came on for Deputy Taft.

"Wait a minute! I think I know where he might have been going. I took a phone call earlier from the FBI; a guy named Hatcher or Thatcher was trying to get hold of an Agent Rossi. Said it was important. James said he was heading that way for lunch and would drop off the message."

"Do you remember the time?"

"1000 hours. Or somewhere about."

Gonzo looked at Buck. "I'm on it!" Within minutes Buck had the FBI on the line.

"Hello. This is Sheriff Gonzalez down in Luray. I am looking for an Agent Hatcher. Yes, I'll hold." Long pause. "You don't have one? How about an Agent Thatcher? Okay, thanks for your help." Gonzo hung up the phone. "No one by that name works at the FBI."

"What do we do now? We can't leave him out there!" Deputy Jackson pleaded.

Gonzo shook his head. "The sun is setting and with the rain we got, there could be rock slides or mudslides. We can't risk it in the dark. Let me make some calls and see if we can't get a search crew up for tomorrow."

"Already on it Sheriff!" Buck called from the other room. Lost and unsure what to do, the three men stood around looking at the floor, the wall---anywhere but at each other. Gonzo looked at his watch. There was still another hour before the shift ended. He couldn't handle the boys being melancholy, so he sent them to finish filing and paper work.

Sitting at the desk, Gonzo threw his feet up on the desk and stared off into space.


Dave's cabin looked as though a tornado had swept thru. Desk drawers lay on the floor, some broken, some still intact, but their contents strewn all over. The couch cushions lay in a pile by the front door. Chairs were over turned, and the book shelves swept clear.

"Have you found them yet?" George called out to Frank who was busy searching the upstairs rooms.

"Nothing."

"Did you try the truck?"

"Yep."

"I'll go check again to make sure." George stepped outside on the porch and took in the sight of the storm damage. He had forgotten about rainstorms in the mountains. Just as he had gotten himself back up to par and tried to take off after Emily and Dave he got caught in the gulley washer.

The strong wind and rain had halted his tracking, but he figured he could go looking for them tomorrow. If he had it his way, he would hunt them down and gut them for the hell they had put him and Frank through. What was wrong with people just doing what they were told? It could have worked out for everyone and he and Frank would be on their merry way.

Now they couldn't even do that since they couldn't find the truck keys. Yanking open the driver's side door, George started searching under the seats, behind, and in the glove compartment. He even tried the visors. What kind of guy didn't put a spare key on the visor?

Jerking up, his head accidentally hit the roof. Suddenly a voice filled the cab.

"Mr. Rossi, this is OnStar. Are you alright?" George was taken aback. "Mr. Rossi, are you requiring medical assistance?"

"Uh--no. I seemed to have misplaced my keys and I can't seem to start the truck." Sounded as good an excuse as any.

"I'm sorry to hear that sir. I can start your car from here. Can I have your PIN please?"

"My what?"

"Your PIN."

George tried to think quickly. "I don't have it on me. See, my wife got hurt while we were hunting, and I lost my wallet. I really have to get her to the hospital."

"I'm sorry to hear that sir. I could notify EMS and send them out to help."

"No! I mean, she shouldn't be moved. If I could just get the truck started, I could take her in myself. We could get there faster." Why the hell couldn't the bitch just start the friggin truck? What if it was an actual emergency?

"Well, Mr. Rossi, since you don't have your PIN, could I have the last four of your social?"

George was at his wits end! "Listen you uppity know it all bitch! Either you start the truck now, or I will hunt you down and beat the shit out of you! Do you understand me?"

Shocked silence was the operator's only reply for a long moment. A male voice came on the line. "Mr. Rossi, I am going to switch your call over to the Sheriff's department in Luray. Please hold."

Frustrated, George stepped out of the truck cab, aimed his pistol and shot the receiver. Clenching his fists, he stared up into the night sky and screamed. "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!"

Frank came running outside. "What's wrong?"

"That son of a bitch took the keys! That's what's wrong!" He kicked the truck repeatedly until he couldn't kick any more.

"Now what do we do?"

"As soon as the sun comes up, we find them, kill them, get the keys, and leave this shit hole!" There was no doubt in his mind that when he got hold of Mr. Rossi, George was going to make him and his old lady wish they had never been born.


Aaron Hotchner was spending a quiet Sunday morning reading the paper at the kitchen table. But he barely paid attention to the headlines as he watched Jack dig in the cereal box for the prize. It wasn't everyday a boy got a Buzz Lightyear cereal spoon.

Hotch knew he should be upset at the cereal strewn over the table, but the mess was nothing compared to the way Jack's face lit up when he triumphantly held the cellophane wrapped spoon.

"Dad! Look! I found it!" Hotch felt tears prick his eyes at the way his son's eyes sparkled with joy. Do you see him Haley? He wondered not for the first time. Suddenly his cell phone rang. Grabbing it, he motioned for Jack to tone it down.

"Hotchner here."

"Agent Hotchner, this is Erin Strauss."

"Yes, Director, how might I help you?"

"I need you to assemble your team and meet me in my office."

"Yes ma'am. You are aware that it is Sunday?"

"I am quite cognizant of that fact Agent Hotchner. This is an emergency and I need you and your team here immediately. There is to be no further discussion; is that understood?"

"Yes ma'am. Uh Director Strauss, you are aware that two of my team are out of town at the moment?"

There was a long pause as though Erin Strauss was looking for just the right words. "This is about those two members, Agent Hotchner," she replied tightly, then disconnected the call.

Stunned speechless, Hotch tried to gather his bearings. What had Strauss said?

"Dad! Look, my spoon lights up! You wanna try it?"

"Jack, something came up and I have to go into work. I'm going to call your Aunt Jessica to come stay here with you until I get back."

Jack dropped his shoulders. "That's okay. I understand."

Hotch knelt down so he could be eye level with Jack. "Jack, I know that we had planned to go out. I didn't mean for this to happen. When I get back I'll make it up to you. How about Chuck E. Cheese?"

Immediately Jack's face lit up. "Okay. Promise?"

Hotch gave Jack a thumbs up, to which Jack did the same. Touching thumbs, they sealed the deal. "Now finish your breakfast while I make some phone calls, okay champ?"

Jack jumped into the chair and eagerly attacked his cereal bowl. Stepping out of the kitchen, Hotch pressed a number and waited. "Hello, Garcia? I know it's Sunday. Contact the others; we have been called in. I understand. Oh, Garcia, don't worry about contacting Rossi and Prentiss. I'll explain when we get there."

Then he hit end.