Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, Criminal Minds.

Thank you all so much for reading and commenting, and especially for being patient between these parts. Thanks also for your birthday and holiday wishes. Happy New Year!


Safe
Part 7

By N. J. Borba


Derek had the upper half of his body stuffed into the cabinet under the kitchen sink. His arms were stretched over his head where he could barely see. And water dripped persistently as he tried to find the source of the leak. "Anything new to report, baby girl?" he asked, shooting his voice down toward the cell phone that he had on speaker. A second later, the wrench in his hands slipped and hit him on the head. "Damn!"

Garcia heard the loud clang. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to unscrew this…"

"That's your first mistake, darling," she stopped him. "Never unscrew…" Penelope teased. "The ladies don't like that."

The groan that escaped his mouth was not due to a sore head, but her comment. Retrieving the wrench, Derek tried to reach the pesky drain pipe again. "Have you checked out all the Jane Doe's for me this week?" he swiftly changed the subject, getting back to the real reason he'd called.

"You know I have, every week for the last six months. I even got a few hopefuls this week but they didn't pan out." Garcia wasn't sure if she was helping her friend or hindering him. She wasn't even sure what she believed in regard to Emily's death, but Penelope believed in Derek Morgan with all her heart and would support him through anything.

"I keep getting those phone calls, anything traceable?"

"Nope, sorry," again she was the voice of disappointment. "The calls always end too soon."

His sigh was thick with the knowledge of having no leads to follow for six months. But as much as Derek tried to let go of Emily, he couldn't. "How's the rest of the team?"

"Getting by," she replied. "Reid came into my office the other day and we talked for almost an hour about, well, nothing important really. It was odd, in a good way; he didn't state facts or make any comments that seemed overly genius. I think our little boy is finally growing up," she joked. Garcia heard Derek's chuckle on the other end and was glad for it. "You should call him, though. He says you haven't made contact in almost two weeks."

Derek finally felt some give in the connection he was trying to loosen. He spun the wrench around several times as he answered. "I know, doll, I've been busy here. Lots of ball games to organize at the youth center and about a million things to fix on that old duplex I'm renovating. Right now I'm working on my mom's place, always something to do." Derek always had an excuse to give too.

"Well, find the time," she scolded. "I need to get back to my real job, the team is about to land in Oregon," Penelope let him know. "Derek, are you ever coming back?" Garcia asked the same question at the end of every conversation, which was not every day like she'd demanded, but at least twice a week and sometimes more.

"I don't know, baby girl. I'll talk to you later," he ended the call quickly, stabbing the button with the handle of his wrench.

"I think she's right," Fran Morgan called down to her son, tapping the bottom of his shoe with her smaller foot. "It's time for you to get back to work."

Morgan sat the wrench down and grabbed his phone as he shimmied out from under the sink. He stood up and leaned against the counter, facing his mother. The cell was placed on the Formica counter as he dried his hands with a towel. "I've been working all morning," Derek motioned toward the sink.

"You know what I mean," his mother replied. "I could replace that leaky pipe myself if I wanted to. Who do you think does it when you're not around?" she asked, flashing a playful smile his way. But her face turned serious again, as did her words. "I love having you here and so do your sisters. But you still talk to that team of yours every week, because you miss being there, you miss the job." Fran sighed. "When you first told me you wanted to be a cop, all I could think about was what happened to your father."

Derek reached out and cupped his mother's cheek. "I'm sorry for that."

She smiled. "I know you are. It took me a while to see that you were meant to follow in his footsteps," Fran admitted. "Even though I hate it most days, the job you do is important, and you are very good at it. I also understand that losing Emily was a huge blow. You never got to tell her that you loved her."

"Mom, how…" he was surprised by her words.

Fran grinned as she shook her head. "A mother knows these things. You talk about her almost every day," she pointed out. "I've never known you to talk about a woman so often, not even those related to you." She wrapped her arms around Derek and held him close. "I'm sorry you had to go through all of this, but it's time to live your life again. I didn't know Emily very well, other than that one meeting, but I don't think she'd want you to go on like this either."

He knew his mother was right. Emily would have been the first to kick his ass into gear had it been anyone else lost that day at the marina. Derek loved being at the youth center and working on his properties. He also loved being close to his family again, but he still felt incomplete being away from the BAU. There was no way he'd ever stop searching for Emily, but that could be done just as easily from within the BAU.

"Maybe you're right," he finally admitted. "Maybe it's time to go home."

xxx

Three days later, Derek sat at his old desk in the bullpen waiting for the team to return from Oregon. He'd gone straight to Strauss who signed his return, though it would still be subject to Hotch's final approval to rejoin the team. Strauss assured him he could be placed on another team if Hotch didn't welcome him back, but they were both fairly certain that wouldn't be the case. Morgan knew the team had landed and was on their way back to the office, due to Garcia's play-by-play account. He sat and waited.

His cell rang and Derek figured it was Penelope with another, up-to-the-minute, report on the team's whereabouts. But when he answered, Derek was greeted by the same silence as a couple dozen other calls that he'd received since Emily's accident. He sucked in a breath as he waited for a moment before making a final decision. "Whoever you are, I'm really sick of this little game you're playing. I'm going to have to get a new phone number because of all this."

"No!"

Derek's blood felt like it had turned to ice as a chill ran up and down his spine. The call ended abruptly after that one word had been shouted over the line. He stared at the device in his hands as if he'd just seen a ghost, or rather, had just heard one. He pushed away from his desk, chair sailing backwards as he jumped to his feet and dashed to Garcia's office. He burst through her door without as much as a knock. "Tell me you got that!" his anxious voice called out.

"I did," her voice was unmistakably shaken as she typed frantically at her keyboard. "Damn it!" It was unusual for the analyst to get so worked up, but this was a matter more serious than most of the cases that crossed their paths. "The cell did the same thing as always, bounced around a few towers but ended too soon. I lost it," Garcia shook her head.

"But the voice, that word…" Derek clung to hope with all of his being. "You recorded that?"

She nodded. With three key strokes, the voice came over the speakers on her computer. "No!" Garcia backed it up and replayed it several more times. "No!" The undeniably female voice cried out, over and over as they listened. "No!"

"It's her, isn't it?" Derek looked to Garcia for confirmation.

The blonde, who was currently sporting blue streaks in her hair, had a tear welling in her left eye. "It certainly sounds like her, but…" she wasn't quite ready yet to let herself believe it, mostly because she didn't want to get Derek's hopes up only to have to dash them later. "I can run it through voice recognition software. I'm sure I have Emily's voice on something in the archives. Matching one word is going to be tricky, though."

He nodded, knowing she was being cautious, partly because it was her job, but mostly for his sake. "I know you'll do your best."

"Derek," she hesitantly addressed him. "You know we could both lose our jobs for doing this. Maybe we should go to Hotch right now with what we have."

"We don't have enough yet," Morgan shook his head. "And I'd risk losing a dozen jobs for Emily's sake."

She nodded. "So would I," Penelope supported her friend.

xxx

Andrew backhanded her. "Did I say you could speak to him?" he asked.

Emily hardly blinked as his hand had connected with her cheek. She'd grown use to his violent strikes. It seemed to make him feel better, like he was in control. Just another piece of the profile she had been building in her head for the last… well, she couldn't be sure how long it was he'd had her tied up in his dungeon room. Emily closed her eyes as she mentally tried to calculate all the injuries he'd inflicted upon her. Mostly there were random bruises where he manhandled her on the way to the bathroom. Then there was her back.

Every few weeks he liked to re-carve the message in her back. The very second she started to feel the soreness leave her aching muscles seemed to be the exact moment in which he returned to slice through layers of scar tissue. It was another piece of the profile she kept going over in her mind. Verbal and physical abuse coupled with his strange desire to break her down into a willing wife. Emily tried her best to reason out the profile, but she never seemed to get far. None of it made sense to her.

Another smack sent a small sting along her nerve endings. She reopened her eyes and stared blankly up at him. "I asked you a question," he growled.

"I did you a favor," she replied in a weary voice. Part of his abuse was the withholding of proper nutrients. He kept her fed and hydrated just enough to keep her alive. Emily knew it was a smart method of breaking down a person's defenses. But she wasn't just anyone and she wouldn't break for him, no matter how he tried. Because she had something on her side that she didn't think he had any clue about. Derek's promise kept her going when she probably should have given up hope a long time ago.

"How is that?" he asked.

She drew forth a small smile, in an attempt to placate him. Emily then added words to the gesture. "He threatened to disconnect his phone number. I knew if he did that you'd have to start all over with this phase of your lessons. So, I asked him not to."

Andrew moved away from her, his features smoothing out into a calmer stance. "You're finally coming around." He grinned. "Perhaps it's time to move my plan forward?"

Emily didn't know what that meant, but if it entailed her being able to keep hearing Derek's voice then she'd gladly continue to play along. There had to be some way to get a message to Morgan that Carlyle wouldn't be able to pick up on. She just needed to figure out what that was.

xxx

The team welcomed Derek back into the fold, but things were tense for him that first day. He learned that there had briefly been a new member added to their team, a young man by the name of Dylan Matheson. He'd been a little too young in the end. Even graduating at the top of his class, studying behavioral science and working for seven years as an agent hadn't fully prepared him for the kind of work they did at the BAU. It just wasn't for everyone. Needless to say, the team had been severely short handed, and Derek felt guilty.

Day two found Morgan on his first case after a six month leave. He was surprised by how eager he was to jump right back into the thick of things, even as Garcia had secretly given him the results of the voice analysis she'd performed on his call. The tech had proved an eighty-seven percent voice match for Emily Prentiss. That was a pretty solid lead that only served to buoy Morgan's efforts. He'd be much better prepared for the next call. In the meantime, though it was killing him to sit tight, he did his job the best he could.

Four days later the team returned from Albuquerque and Derek was so tired he could barely see straight. He slept for twelve hours straight that night and strode into the bullpen the next day at nine-thirty. With a half hour until their daily conference, Derek wandered to Garcia's lair and found Reid there chatting up their favorite computer whiz. The all exchanged morning pleasantries just before Derek's phone rang.

The ring always caused him pause, and when he spotted the familiar: unknown name and unknown number message, Morgan answered. "Emily?" he decided to go for broke, trying to talk to her directly if it was her again. He noticed that Reid and Garcia immediately shut up and turned their attention his way, though Penelope did check that the recording device linked to Derek's line was doing its job.

"Emily, I understand if you can't say anything. But if you can, please talk to me. Just let me know you're alive," Morgan knew he was pleading, but he really didn't care. He'd already gone up and down the grief and denial rollercoaster enough times to realize he had nothing to lose. "Please talk to me, Emily."

A heavy silence filled the line, but then it broke with a crystal clarity that spun Derek's world on end. "You will never be safe."

It wasn't just wishful thinking any more. Derek knew her voice well enough to know it was her, though she sounded distant; tired maybe. "Emily, keep talking." Those revealing words garnered wide-eyed looks from Reid and Garcia. "You will be safe, I promise. Just tell me where you are and I will be there in a heartbeat," he vowed.

"You will never be safe," her soft voice whispered the words again.

The line went dead and Derek turned around to face Penelope. "Did you get a trace?"

She pursed her lips, not wanting to disappoint him yet again, but she could only speak the truth. "It wasn't long enough." Penelope gazed up at him. "She spoke to you, didn't she?"

"Yes," he nodded, pointing to her keyboard. "Play it back."

Garcia didn't need to be asked twice. Her fingers danced over the keys and brought the recording up in a matter of seconds. "You will never be safe." Hearing it for themselves, Reid and Penelope were both elated. When she repeated the words, their momentary joy turned to icy fear. The tone and inflection of Emily's voice was raw, nearly defeated.

"Hey guys?" JJ called to them from the slightly opened door to Garcia's office.

The three people inside nearly jumped and turned to face the young liaison. "What… uh, what do you want, JJ?" Reid nervously asked.

JJ furrowed her brow a little. "Conference is in five minutes," she reminded them.

"We'll be there," Derek kept a calm exterior even as he was faced with the news that Emily was indeed alive. His heart had never doubted the fact, but actual proof was causing his head to spin. He watched as Reid followed JJ out of Garcia's office, but Morgan stayed behind for a second longer. He eyed his friend.

"I'll run it though everything I've got," Garcia assured him.

Derek nodded and made his way to the conference room, hoping he'd be able to focus on anything other than the echo of Emily's voice in his head.

xxx

Two and a half hours later the team had gone over three potential cases only to discover that none of them was a plausible undertaking at the moment. One jurisdiction had failed to contact them directly as of yet. Another case was bogged down in a political battle that had the mayor of the city keeping things under wraps until elections were held. A third case involved one of the families suing the city for negligence, which had put a halt to the whole investigation.

Normally Hotch would have told JJ to call them back as soon as she had a valid case, but after their last outing, he figured the team could use a day of rest, meaning paperwork. Hotch was just about to dismiss them all when Morgan decided to pick that moment to unburden him self. "I have a case for us," he declared as Reid glared at him. The younger man shook his head, trying to stop his friend, but Derek persisted. "It's a kidnapping."

Hotch eyed JJ for a moment, but when he saw the confused look on her face, he returned his attention to Derek. "What case is this?"

"It's…" Morgan sighed. "I think Garcia should be called in for this. There's something you all need to hear."

The Unit Chief shot Derek a glare that let him know he didn't like surprises. But he nodded his ascension, giving the man a short leash. "Get her in here."

Garcia arrived within ten minutes and quickly set up her laptop in the conference room. Derek had been a little bit cryptic in his call to her but she'd gotten the basic idea, realizing that he'd finally spilled the beans to Hotch about what they'd been up to. But when she arrived, she realized that Hotch, Rossi and JJ were still very much in the dark. So she played the first recording for them.

"No!"

"What the hell was that?" Rossi asked, looking around the room for an answer.

Hotch felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. "Morgan, explain."

They all knew that the fewer words their boss used, the more upset he really was. Derek did his best to explain about the phone calls he'd been receiving since shortly after Emily's supposed death. "Last week I got that call," he indicated the one they had just heard. "Garcia gave me an eighty-seven percent voice match on it to Emily's. And before you say anything about that, listen to the one I just got this morning." He motioned for Garcia to play it.

Derek's voice could be heard for a few seconds and then the other voice joined in, "You will never be safe." They all listened as she repeated the words. The message itself was one they'd heard before when Emily had told them about her sister's death.

"I got a 99.99 percent voice recognition match for Emily on that one," Garcia revealed.

"Emily is alive?" JJ asked.

Hotch saw the same question flicker past Rossi's eyes as well. He could see that the other three were already in cahoots on the matter. "This is not proof," he spoke up. "It could be a recording of some sort."

"To what end, Hotch?" Morgan asked. "Why would someone do that to me?"

Aaron Hotchner had no real answer, except that he'd seen the reports of Emily's death and could not deny the stated facts. "I have no idea, but Emily is dead." He faced the man who had once taken over as team leader for him. "Maybe you came back too soon," he gently informed Derek. "I think another leave of absence may be in order."

"No!" Derek jumped to his feet. "No way," he shook his head. "Don't you dare tell me this is all some figment of my imagination, you heard her! Tell me you didn't just hear her?"

"I heard a voice that sounded a lot like Emily, yes," Hotch agreed. "But I also read that coroner's report that confirmed one of the bodies in that fire was her. And that evidence speaks louder for me."

Derek stood there, open mouthed. "We're profilers, Hotch. We don't use evidence to track killers, we use behavior. We get in their heads to figure them out."

"So now you want me to think, what?" the team leader asked. "You want me to believe that this coroner was in on Carlyle's plot to kidnap Emily?"

Reid listened as the two men raised their voices, both with valid points, though Derek was clearly more emotionally involved. He hated taking sides in arguments, remembering how he'd felt as a child listening to his parents fighting. But he needed to do something to slice the tension in the air, and a thought sprang to mind as Hotch spoke about the coroner's report. "Carlyle was an orthodontist," he spoke up. "He had means of getting dental records, didn't he?"

The question hung in the air around them and simmered in all their heads. "You think he could have altered Emily's dental charts to resemble someone else's?" Rossi posed the frightening possibility that Reid had just set in motion; a possibility that none of them had thought of before.

"So the guy's an orthodontist and oral surgeon by day, computer hacker by night?" JJ asked, adding to what had already been thrown out there. "That's a bit far fetched, isn't it?"

"Maybe not," Penelope jumped in. "He has the means to gain dental information from patients. What if he simply called up Emily's dentist and asked for the records to be sent to him?"

Hotch watched Morgan, who remained quiet as the others started to roll with the idea. "Is that possible?" he finally asked. "Wouldn't Emily have to make the request herself or give some kind of consent, at the very least sign something?"

"Legally, he'd need a signed release form from Emily, yes," Garcia replied.

"This guy was stalking Emily for years without her realizing it," Rossi pointed out. "Those pictures we found that he had of her at graduations and other events… I don't think it's so far out of the realm of possibility that this guy could have faked a release form."

Morgan put his faith in Rossi for a moment. "So, you believe it's possible. You're open to the idea that Emily is still alive?"

Rossi looked to Hotch and then to Morgan. "I am."

"And the bodies that burned in that fire?" Hotch wasn't sure what was going on, but he continued to play devil's advocate in their little charade.

"Could have been two victims we never knew about," Morgan supplied the easiest answer.

Hotch was still on the defensive. "The pelvic bones recovered at the marina fire were male and female. That doesn't fit his MO."

"So he changed his MO once to accomplish the task of getting Emily," Derek countered.

The Unit Chief could see that Morgan was likely to have an answer for everything he threw at the agent. He posed two more questions that would be harder to answer. "Let's say he did do all of this to get her; killed a man and woman as well as altered dental records. But how did he get Emily away from that site without us seeing them? And why is he letting her make these calls?"

Derek was finally stumped on the question of how they escaped. He focused on the second inquire instead. "Maybe he doesn't know about the calls, maybe she's doing it on her own?" His stomach twisted into a knot as he spoke. "We all know that Emily would do anything to keep him from hurting anyone else because of her. So what if she's… what if she agreed to stay with him if he agreed to stop the killings? What if she's just calling to hear a voice from her past?"

"Son of a bitch," Rossi swore under his breath. He, Garcia and JJ seemed to think it was a possibility. Even Hotch was starting to let the idea take root in his mind.

"No way," Reid was the one to discount Derek's theory. "Even if she did that initially, made that agreement with him, which I think is possible," he did admit to that much. "If she gained his trust enough to be making phone calls she would have found a way out by now. Emily is a fighter. She would have gotten a knife, anything to subdue him and get away. She would not stay with him if she could kill or detain him."

Hotch could definitely agree with that, as could Morgan. "Then she needs our help," Derek concluded. He stared Hotch in the eye. "Give me one week," Morgan pleaded his case. "The calls come once a week. If she doesn't call back in one week's time and I haven't uncovered anything else, I will walk away."

"From the belief that she's alive?" Hotch questioned.

"No," Derek shook his head. "From the team. I'll go out on my own and find her," he declared.

Hotch really wasn't sure what to believe, but he had faith in Derek. "One week," he agreed, glancing around the room. "If any of you wish to help him, be sure it's on your own time. And if any new case comes up this week we will be taking it," the man made himself clear and was satisfied with the nods he got from around the room. He was almost certain that they'd all be on the case. A small part of him hoped they would be.

xxx

A long case in Colorado Springs left Derek and the others precious little time in Hotch's one week deadline, but they weren't ready to give up yet. They had one day left. It was well past midnight as Derek sat slumped over in a chair beside Garcia. They'd been holed up in her office for hours since the official end to their work day. Reid was asleep in another chair to their left. They let him get some rest.

"Finally," Penelope sat up a little straighter as her computer chirped. "I managed to crack open some financial history on Carlyle."

"What is it?" Derek sat up too, fully alert.

She whistled appreciatively. "That is some serious life insurance money," Penelope gaped at the dollar amounts on her screen. "Carlyle got one million each for his wife and daughter. I can't find any record that it was deposited into an account. I imagine he took it in cash, anticipating that he'd be able to get to Emily and spirit her away. I'd say that's enough money to live on for quite a few years, longer if you live real simply."

"Probably a lot longer if you moved to a small town where nobody knows you," Reid spoke up, revealing that he was awake. "A place where you could pretend a woman was your wife without anyone checking on your story," he relayed the idea to his friends. "He'll probably keep up his profession, though, so no one suspects where his wealth comes from. The only way he can practice is with a valid license. It would have to be under his real name, unless he's a master of aliases, which is doubtful."

"So, what do you propose, I start a search for every Andrew Carlyle in the United States?" Garcia asked, mockingly.

"Yes," Derek answered with utmost sincerity.

The woman nodded. "Of course, why didn't I think of that sooner?" It really was a good idea. She had to hope it was sleep deprivation that was muddling her mind. Kevin had called her every night that week wanting to meet for dinner or rendezvous at her place, but she'd had to disappoint him every time in favor of helping Derek out. Kevin said he understood and she truly hoped he did. Another alarm beeped on her computer and she checked it out. "Wow, I did not expect to find that."

"What?" Both Derek and Reid asked.

Penelope tapped a few more keys. "I've been running this enhancement program on Emily's call and I… there's a second voice." She pulled on a pair of headphones and listened, fending off Derek and Reid's questioning eyes. "It sounds like a male voice… Carlyle… it's got to be him." Garcia tore off the listening devise.

"Put it on speaker." Morgan and Reid listened to the words that were still rather garbled, but clearly not Emily's voice. "What's he saying?" Derek asked.

"The headphones make it clearer," Garcia informed them. "But he's saying the same thing she is, just a few seconds before."

"He's prompting her," Reid stated.

She nodded. "I think so, yes."

Morgan sighed, feeling rather unsettled by that revelation. He tried to latch on to something more positive. "Then it's not a recording?"

"No, I highly doubt it," Penelope replied. "It flows. If someone was trying to piece together random bits of recorded words they had of her voice it would not be this seamless, I don't care how good you are. And the added confirmation of this male voice in the background leads me to believe that this is no joke, gentlemen."

"It doesn't make sense, though; she'd never be taken in by him. He killed her sister," Derek needlessly reminded them. "She should be trying to tell us something more on these phone calls," he insisted.

Reid paced across the small space behind them, stretching his tired and cramped legs. "He's using classical brainwashing techniques on her and it seems to be working. The calls are a way to show her that she has no hope of escape."

"She would not give in to this guy," Morgan turned to face the young genius. "You said so yourself just a few days ago. Emily is a fighter."

The younger man quirked his lips to one side. "Did you know that if a person is surrounded by total darkness they can go completely blind in a matter of only a few weeks?" he didn't leave the question open for answer, speedily continuing. "And they'll never regain that sight."

Derek glared at his friend. "Reid, I thought you were on my side, man."

Reid stopped pacing. "Morgan, I am on your side. And I do believe that Emily is a fighter. But we all know there have been documented cases of Stockholm syndrome occurring in as little as four weeks. She's been with Carlyle for six months."

"Emily is stronger than most people," Derek maintained.

"Even the strongest people have a breaking point," Reid noted, recalling those dark days when he'd been taken by Tobias Henkel. That experience had changed his whole life, tipping it on its side for a long time as he'd struggled to recover and deal with his resultant drug addiction.

Garcia sucked in a breath and then let it out in a deep sigh that seemed to come from the recesses of her belly. "Oh, this is not even…" she trailed off. "I've been sifting through his financial records some more and he was executer of his parent's estate."

"The youngest son was executer?" Reid questioned.

"That is odd," Morgan noted. "But we've tried to contact his brother's this week and neither one will return our phone calls. I'd say there might be some animosity there."

"This goes beyond animosity," Penelope replied. "David and Matthew Carlyle were in the process of suing their little brother at the time of his death." She paused a moment. "I think I might be sick. They claim he'd been extorting money from their parent's estate long before their deaths a year and a half ago. That's not the creepiest thing Mr. Creepy did, though. Apparently he didn't like the plot his parents picked to be buried in, so he picked one of his own. Only, he wouldn't tell his brother's where he buried them."

Derek's mind whirled ahead. "Because he never actually buried them."

"Meaning?" Reid wasn't quite as far along as his friend.

"What do you want to bet me Carlyle's parents are the ones that burned in that fire?"

Penelope visibly shivered at the possibility. "We need to take this to Hotch."

Morgan shook his head. "Not yet, besides it's the middle of the night." He knew that even Hotch occasionally got some sleep, which meant they had until morning. "Garcia, I need you to track down Emily's last known dentist and pull her records, see if they match the coroner's report. Get his parent's dental records too. Hack into Carlyle's practice if you have to. Or we can call Dr. Le first thing in the morning. I want to run every dental record we can on those bodies."

"And sleep?" Reid asked.

"I can sleep when I'm dead, how about you two?" Derek asked.

"I've got nothing better to do," Garcia replied.

Reid shook his head. "Me either.

xxx

Morgan sat on his hands, almost literally, as JJ went over the briefing on their new case. Angela Benson, age twenty-nine, had been taken from her home. Her boyfriend had been shot and killed at the house and that was about three hours ago in the early morning. A ransom note had been left, demanding half a million dollars. They all knew that kidnapping cases needed to follow a much faster pace, due to the fact that most abductees were killed within the first thirty-six hours.

Derek finally knew, without a doubt, that Emily was alive after over six months of being held by Andrew Carlyle. He couldn't remain quiet any longer, even with a pressing case. "He has her," Morgan blurted out. All heads turned his way and he took a deep breath. Derek's eyes went from Garcia to Reid. Secure that the two of them had his back he launched into an explanation of everything they had discovered.

"So his parent's dead bodies were the ones who burned in that fire?" Rossi asked after all the evidence had been laid out. "You're certain of that?"

Garcia nodded. "I talked to Dr. Le this morning. He's been dealing with the aftermath of Carlyle's deeds, some nasty mal-practice suits. I convinced him to allow me access to Carlyle's computer files. He did a decent job of covering his tracks, but I'm better," she grinned. "Dr. Creepy unwittingly left me some cyber breadcrumbs. He requested Emily's dental files and switched her chart with his mothers, then swapped his and his fathers. It's them alright, one hundred percent sure. Carlyle and Emily did not burn in that fire."

"Then how did he get Emily out of there?" JJ asked. "We know she and he were both inside due to Jessica Zanvil's statement, and both their vehicles were left behind."

"Jessica stated that he didn't have a weapon," Rossi picked up. "We can assume that Carlyle had to have started that fire, most likely using Emily's gun which he got away from her somehow. But where did they go? You don't just vanish like that."

Reid was about to offer an explanation. "Maybe…" but was cut off by the ringing of Derek's phone.

The whole room fell silent as Morgan glanced at the screen. He said nothing, but nodded his head in Garcia's direction. She nodded back, letting him know her tracking system was in place and ready. He hit the speaker phone button and answered the call. "Emily? Are you there?"

"You will never be safe."

Even Hotch couldn't deny that it sounded exactly like her on the other line. "Emily, are you alright?" Derek asked. He knew it was a stupid question but he needed to find some way to keep her on the line. "Talk to me, tell me something, anything you can," he gently prodded her, knowing that Carlyle was probably right beside her. But he still hoped that she might be able to give him a coded message of some sort.

"You will never be safe."

"That's not true!" Morgan lost it for a split-second. He took a quick calming breath. "Emily, listen to me. What he's telling you, it's not true. You'll be safe again, I promise. Just talk to me." They all waited, hope in their hearts and fear in the pit of their stomachs. She did speak again, but it sounded like nothing more than gibberish to all of their ears. Then the call ended, seeming to cut her off.

Garcia shook her head when they all turned to her with questioning eyes. "I almost had something, but…" she shrugged.

"What the hell was that at the end?" Rossi asked.

"I think…" Reid remembered the very first case he'd worked with Emily on after her arrival to the BAU. They'd gone to Guantanamo Bay with Gideon to question a prisoner. It was then that Emily had impressed them all with her language skills. "I'm pretty sure she was speaking Arabic," he finally told them.

"That actually makes a lot of sense," JJ responded. "We all know that Carlyle attended private schools and received a Harvard education, but even with all of that it's doubtful he speaks or even understands Arabic," she concluded.

"Which means she's trying to tell us something," Hotch realized.

Morgan looked to Garcia and probably didn't even need to say the words that rolled off his tongue. "Get a translator up here, now!"

xxx

"What did you tell him?" Andrew stood over her holding the cell phone in one hand and the disconnected battery in his other.

She took a breath. "I don't know what you're talking about?"

Carlyle was not amused. "You do know. Those words at the end of the call, I didn't tell you to say that. I don't even know what language that was."

Emily maintained her position. She closed her eyes and moaned for added drama. "I don't know what I'm saying half the time," her voice quaked, which was not something she'd planned. Some of her discomfort was faked, but some was genuine. "You barely feed me and I haven't seen sunlight in… I don't know how long. I'm too weak to even walk to the bathroom on my own anymore, and this place feels like the walls are closing in on me. I'm delusional half the time and can't be held responsible for whatever nonsense comes out of my mouth."

He watched her for a while longer and seemed content with her answer. A cup filled with water was proffered to her lips a few minutes later and Emily drank it too fast, so eager for the liquid. It made her empty stomach sick, but she tried to hide her discomfort. When he flipped her onto her stomach again, she closed her eyes in preparation for what was to come. The shirt she'd been wearing had long ago turned to a rag and was discarded. Emily had resigned herself to being naked from the waist up. It didn't really bother her any more.

At least he had never tried to do anything more to her than physical abuse. She couldn't be sure, but Emily suspected that as far as sex was concerned he wanted a willing partner, a wife and a bond that was sanctified by marriage. As long as there was even the smallest amount of fight left in her, Emily would not pander to that desire. When she felt the last knife stroke, Emily was relieved. She had come to realize that he repeated this process of his lesson when he was about to leave for a while.

Andrew did something new this time, though. He placed the cell phone down on the bed beside her. The battery was placed about a foot away, but also on the bed within her sight. "I have to go now," he whispered in her ear. "If you need anything, all you have to do is reconnect the battery and make a call." His laughter filled the room and echoed off the concrete walls as she heard the door lock and his footsteps recede.

She knew he'd left the phone as a test, or more as a taunt, but Emily took it as a challenge. Her left hand was closest to the two items near the head of the bed, but still might as well have been an ocean's distance apart. As hard as she stretched, Emily couldn't reach either one. However, Emily discovered that she could stretch herself enough to get her mouth into contact with the rope around her wrist. It was a thick rope, but her determination was greater.

Emily hoped her message would get through to Derek and the BAU team. If not, she needed a back-up plan. Her teeth took hold of the rope and she began to gnaw on it.

xxx

The translator was a young man with dark hair. He looked very business-like and had arrived within an hour. His attention was grabbed by the recorded voice, but he seemed surprised when it ended. "That's all?" He glanced at Garcia and watched her head nod. "Well, it's Arabic all right, but just a series of words that don't seem to fit together. She says: dark, cold, leaves, home and tired," he relayed.

"The words obviously mean something to her," Derek's spirit was lifted, realizing she had been communicating with them.

"Unless she's too out of it to be thinking straight," Reid countered.

Garcia shook her head. "She's with it enough to be speaking Arabic," the woman pointed out.

Reid responded again with a less than helpful comment. "People have been known to speak foreign languages on their death beds, without any prior knowledge of the language."

Morgan glared at the younger man. "What the hell?"

The rest of the team did their best to disregard Reid's statement, knowing he was only trying to keep them all from getting their hopes up too high. Rossi was the first one to attempt to assemble the pieces. "Dark and cold, she could be describing where she is; an attic or a basement, maybe. It could also reference to a cave or cabin in the mountains somewhere," he suggested, realizing those were all very broad search parameters.

"Leaves might go with that cave or cabin in the woods theory," Hotch chimed in, realizing for the first time that he believed she was alive.

Reid tried to redeem himself in Morgan's eyes by offering a more helpful suggestion. "But what if it means something else, like he leaves her alone sometimes? She could be trying to tell us that there are windows of opportunity in which we can get to her."

"How about home, what does that mean?" Morgan questioned.

"That she wants to go home," JJ spoke up. She wasn't a profiler, but she'd spent plenty of time around them. Mostly, she knew how she'd feel if it were her in Emily's position. "She says tired at the end; maybe meaning too tired to keep fighting him for much longer. Maybe Emily just wants to go home," she offered.

No one tried to discredit her words, though they all hoped Emily could hold on just a little bit longer. Hotch regarded his team, Morgan in particular. They were all looking to him to take the lead. He didn't disappoint. "Rossi and JJ, I need you both to follow up on this Benson kidnapping case. Set up contact with Woodbridge police and talk to the family. I'll join you as soon as I get done with Strauss."

"What are you going to tell her about all of this?" Morgan asked.

Without missing a beat, Hotch replied, "I need to tell her that Emily is alive and that we'll be working to find her. Garcia," he turned to the woman. "I need you to bring your laptop and come with me. I want her to know everything we know."

"Of course," she agreed, already packing up.

Hotch had just one more order to relay. "Morgan, I want you to take Reid and head to Cape Cod right away. Comb every inch of that marina site for any information you can find. I know it's been six months, but I want to figure out how the hell he got her away from that burning building."

Derek and Reid were out the door in a flash. Morgan would have followed through with his plan to go after Emily on his own, but was glad to finally have the team fully on his side.


To be continued…