Dawn
Chapter Seven
Four Minutes to Dawn
* * *
It's not enough that we do our best; sometimes we have to do what's required.
Sir Winston Churchill.
***
Thanks to cyn23, hanily, Prinzessin, dncnmndy, Kitale, xXSSAPrentissXx, tearbos and icicle_rose for reviewing. Many more thanks to Windy City Dreamer for reviewing, quasi-betaing and for not bitching at me to get this up sooner. This one took a while because my other stories demanded priority.
***
It's oddly quiet inside the house – as though there isn't a killer lurking somewhere upstairs. As if there aren't three lives that they have to save today. Of all days, it had to be today.
Before entering the house, they had had a quick discussion on the best way to proceed – they couldn't very well go in without a plan. If the unsub wants them in the house it is for some nefarious purpose – not to have a chat over coffee and cakes.
Morgan had told one of the detectives to call Hotch, informing the Unit Chief of the situation; they all know Hotch's response will be to get to the scene as quickly as possible. After all that has happened, he still doesn't quite trust them not to screw this up royally. It's a state of mind that is understandable, considering they can't quite trust themselves, either.
The plan depends on three things; things they're afraid that they might have lost. It relies on Morgan's hero confidence, on Emily's compartmentalization, on Reid's ability to talk someone's ear off given the right circumstances. It's been a while since he has engaged in a lengthy, recreational conversation with anyone; there had been a similar period of unsociable behavior after his first experience with drugs. He can't even remember the last time he had spent three hours arguing with Emily over the identity of the final cylon (he had been right, in the end) or teasing Morgan over the latest sexual conquest whose name he can't remember.
Morgan shuts the door with a creak. His Glock is gripped tightly in both hands. While he is technically the Agent in Charge in this situation, it's Reid who has taken point. Everything else comes down to nothing if Reid can't do his job.
In silence, they ascend the staircase.
***
They're less than ten minutes away when Hotch gets the call. To an outsider, his expression would seem unchanged, but Rossi notices the intensification of the Unit Chief's determination.
'Problem?'
'The unsub released the first victim – Michael Roland – and had the victim pass on the request that only the FBI go in. They went in alone, Dave.' He only uses Rossi's first name when he's anxious; today he's anxious about losing three agents. If he were to admit it to himself, though, he would concede that they aren't just agents. They aren't just a team, working together any more. The ties run so much deeper than that. If he loses Morgan, Reid and Prentiss today, then they can't just be replaced like machine parts. They're family. It's a definition that likes to reassert itself in both the extreme circumstances, and the everyday circumstances. It's a definition that reasserts itself when he remembers that JJ likes low-fat mayonnaise on her sandwiches, or that Morgan sheds a surreptitious tear when the Cubs lose.
He's just as terrified of losing them now as he had been on that night six months ago. Because it isn't just about physical death. It's about psychological breakdowns. About being shattered beyond repair.
It happens to all of them eventually; it happened to Gideon, to Elle, to half a dozen agents that Hotch has worked with over the years. Strong minds torn apart by death and destruction.
It's the price they pay for conquering evil.
But no matter how hard they try to conquer that evil, to stop the unsub, to chase away the darkness, there will always be some of it left.
Even if it's inside of them.
***
Morgan is standing in the hallway, trying to silence his breathing. Michael Roland had given them a brief description of the room in which the unsub has taken fort, and the layout of it means that their plan just might work.
They could have just gone in there, guns blazing, but the chance of killing a hostage is far too high. They need to play this one carefully; otherwise there might be three dead FBI agents as well as three dead hostages. Which is why Reid and Emily are going into that room alone.
Reid walks in first. His gun is drawn, but he's trying to make it hidden. It's not the gun he wants the unsub to pay attention to. Emily walks a little to his left; she's his cover. If something bad does go down, it's her job to make sure Spencer Reid doesn't end up a corpse. That is, of course, assuming that Emily doesn't end up a corpse first. Upon seeing the unsub's position, she shifts her direction slightly, blocking the door from his view.
'There were three of you,' the unsub says, brow furrowed. There's a pistol in his hand, pointed at the head of one of their missing men. The hostages look bruised, beaten.
'Local PD was short one vest,' says Reid. He gives his voice a friendly tone – trying to make it harder for this unsub to suddenly decide to kill him in cold blood. 'We had to lend them one of ours.'
The unsub nods. He's definitely a narcissist – so much so, that he hasn't even considered the possibility that the FBI would do anything other than playing his game.
'Put your weapons on the floor,' he says harshly, pushing the pistol just a little closer into the hostage's head. He hasn't actually killed anyone yet – they don't know if he's capable, and they're sure as hell not going to try and find out.
'We can't do that,' says Reid calmly in reply. 'We're not here to hurt anyone, where here to make sure everybody gets out of this alive.'
He thrusts the pistol just a little bit further into the hostage's temple, as if trying to prove a point.
'I'll put my weapon down,' Reid concedes. In response, Emily only tightens her grip, but the unsub doesn't seem to notice. His eyes are on Reid. And that's all part of the plan. Things are going okay so far, but Emily's had such a string of bad luck lately, that she's sure that the unsub is going to snap and kill them all. She's barely aware of what Reid is saying to him, her own attention focused on the unsub's body movements.
She wonders if Morgan has started making his move yet. Their preconceived notion is that if the unsub is distracted by Reid's ramblings, then Morgan might be able to make his way into the room undetected if he sticks to the shadows. It's not a desirable plan, but it's the best they could come up with in two minutes and with limited intel.
The main problem is, they're in a house. If they were in a less enclosed space, an ambush would be much easier, and any noises would be considered ambient. But they're not outside. She doesn't know who made the noise that distracted him – whether it was her, whether it was Morgan, whether it was some noise outside that caused him to pull his gun away from the hostage and point it at Reid, finger putting pressure on the trigger.
***
Hotch, Rossi and JJ are pulling up to the house when they hear the gunshot.
