Chapter 9-Missing
Rossi and Morgan sat in the back seat of the SUV waiting nervously. Morgan checked his watch for the umpteenth time then went back to looking out the window closely at the goings on across the street despite there being nothing happening. He figured with he and Rossi watching both sides of the street, if the UnSub tried to get to Hotch they would be ready.
"He's been in there ten minutes at least. How much longer are we gonna wait before we go check on him?" Morgan said still looking out the window.
"We'll give him another five minutes before we go in." Rossi folded his arms but kept his eyes on the front entrance as if trying to will his boss and close friend to appear. Until he actually saw Hotch appear he would be worried.
Time seemed to drag on and on for the two agents who were slowly became more and more worried about their boss. Rossi checked his watch and glanced at Morgan.
"Time's up. Let's go," he said as he and Morgan climbed out of their vehicle and made their way to the front door of the Brennaman house. Rossi knocked on the front door and waited. There was no answer. He knocked again only louder this time. "Mrs. Brennaman?" Again there was no answer. Glancing at Morgan the two agents drew their weapons before Rossi, gripping the doorknob, opened the door and slowly stepped inside. Once inside, he and Morgan saw nobody.
"FBI! Anybody here?" Rossi shouted as the two agents looked around. Silence.
"Hotch?" Morgan called out. Again silence.
A glance told each man something was horribly wrong. Seeing nobody in the living room, the agents split up with Morgan heading towards the kitchen with Rossi heading in another direction. "FBI! Show yourself!" Morgan shouted.
Rossi was glancing behind the shower curtain in the downstairs bathroom when a shout from Morgan caused him to head at a quickened pace towards the kitchen. Rossi found Morgan kneeling besides a female lying on the floor, unconscious. The kitchen door wide open. Glancing at the agent, Morgan looked up.
"She's alive but looks like she's been struck on the head with something," Morgan announced. He dug his cell out of his pocket and immediately called for an ambulance. He looked up. "Any sign of Hotch?"
Shaking his head, Rossi looked around the brightly decorated kitchen when two things on the table caught his eye.
There were two coffee mugs, one empty the other one seemingly barely touched. There was a Glock 17 and a Glock 26 sitting on top of a slip of paper. Rossi immediately recognized them as Hotch's weapons. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a pair of latex gloves so he could pick up the paper. What he read chilled him to his very core.
'He won't need these. He is now mine! I only hope he put his affairs in order because the next time you see Agent Hotchner his remains will be all there will be. I will be contacting you soon. I won't say don't try and find us because I know you will. Very well, have a good time searching. I will enjoy watching you search never knowing when his remains will be found.' It was signed with the words 'The Undead.' Morgan looked over his shoulder and read the letter.
"He's got Hotch," Rossi said handing the letter to Morgan. "These are Aaron's weapons. I've seen them often enough to recognize them." He then picked up the empty coffee mug. He noticed what looked like a white substance in the bottom of the mug. He sniffed it.
"Found something?" asked Morgan putting the paper back on the table.
"I pray to God I'm wrong, but I don't think so," Rossi said. "It's possible Hotch was drugged to make him manageable for the UnSub. He relieves Aaron of his weapons and knocks out Mrs. Brennaman, writes the note and then leaves taking Hotch with him. It also looks from these marks on the floor that somebody was dragged out the kitchen door which is why we didn't see anything from where we were parked. There was a groan from the woman on the floor causing Morgan to return to her side and kneel down.
Rossi pulled out his cell phone. "This is Agent Rossi with the FBI. We need an ambulance at this address…" after giving them the address, then made another call. "Emily, its Rossi. Morgan and I are still at the Brennaman house. She's been attacked and Hotch is missing. I'm not sure, but I think our UnSub may have been here when we arrived and was laying in wait. I need a crime scene unit out here asap. Also, get the team together and get here quick." He stuck the phone back in his pocket and turned hearing the moan again. Gillian Brennaman was trying to sit up while Morgan was trying to get her to lay down.
"I'm all right," she said struggling into a sitting position. "Help me get up, please." Morgan, though reluctantly, gripped her arm with one hand and put his other arm around her waist and helped her to her feet. He then led her to a chair which Rossi pulled out for her. She winced when she touched the back of her head and saw blood on her fingers.
"Mrs. Brennaman, I hope you remember me." Rossi knelt down in front of the woman. "I was here before with Agent Hotchner. I need you to answer a few questions if you're up to it."
"It's about Agent Hotchner, isn't it?" she asked as the sound of an ambulance could be heard approaching. A few minutes later, two EMTs entered through the living room door and walked into the kitchen. Morgan explained that the woman had been struck on the head with a hard object and suffered at least a head injury. The EMTs immediately began their examination. Meanwhile, Gillian kept her wet, red eyes on Rossi.
"I couldn't help it," she said, a tremble in her voice. "He was here when you came. He wanted me put a sleeping pill in my own coffee but wouldn't tell me why." She cupped a hand over her mouth and choked back a sob and then winced when one of the EMTs touched her head. "He then wanted Agent Hotchner to drink his own coffee which I couldn't understand. I mean, mine was the one that was drugged. Agent Hotchner refused to drink it…but then, he held a gun to my head and told Agent Hotchner if he didn't drink it he would kill me. So, he drank it. A few minutes later he passed out on the floor. I couldn't understand how that could happen because I never put anything in his coffee except cream and sugar. There were no drugs in it. I swear. The man then struck me on the head. Next thing I know, I wake up and you're here."
"We need to get her to the hospital and have her checked out," one of the EMTs told Rossi. The agent looked up and held up a hand.
"Just one minute more. Please." The EMT nodded seeing as the woman was not in immediate danger. He nodded.
"Mrs. Brennaman, this is very important. I need you to tell me what this man looked like. Can you describe him?"
"That's easy," Gillian said. "He looked like Agent Hotchner. I mean, he looked like a twin. Same height, same weight, same build, hair and eye color. Everything." She noticed Rossi and Morgan exchange troubled looks. "Does that help?"
Rossi smiled and patted her hand. "You did just fine. But now we have to get you to the hospital." He and Morgan helped get Gillian to her feet. She suddenly looked at Rossi.
"My children. Somebody has to pick them up. I've been keeping them home for a few days after Ron was killed. They're at a neighbors house on a play date."
"I'll take care of that. Don't worry. We'll have the neighbor take the kids until you're released from the hospital."
Gillian smiled then gave the name of the people at who's house her children were at before allowing herself to be led out of the house by the EMTs through the living room door.
When Hotch opened his eyes, he found himself tied tightly to a chair with rope; his hands cuffed behind him possibly with his own handcuffs. Looking around, he didn't recognize his surroundings. Closing his eyes he shook his head hoping to clear the cobwebs. Upon opening them again he tugged at the restraints without success.
"I'm so glad you're awake, Aaron," a voice said. Looking around, Hotch found himself looking into the eyes of a man who, other than resembling him, he didn't recognize yet thought looked familiar if such a thing was possible in his currently hazy mind. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head again. What had happened? He couldn't remember clearly. Opening them again, he looked up at the stranger who was holding a weapon in a hand wearing a latex glove, pointed at him.
"The coffee you drank was laced with Phenobarbital, Agent Hotchner," the man said calmly. "It works very quickly but can leave one a bit fuzzy afterward."
"I don't understand," Hotch replied slowly, trying to make himself focus. "I switched the coffee mugs…suspected the coffee I was given…was drugged."
The man smiled, amused. "I know. That's what I wanted you to think. Your coffee wasn't drugged, Aaron. But Gillian's was. I knew you would switch mugs figuring hers was safer after you saw her take a drink of it when in actuality, yours was safer than hers. The Phenobarbital wouldn't affect you unless you drank the entire cup of coffee."
Hotch looked up at the man. "Who are you and what do you want?" he asked coldly.
The man, amused, shook his head and chuckled. "Aaron. Aaron. Aaron. I'm hurt you don't remember me. I really am. But then again, I shouldn't be. It's been several years after-all. But it really doesn't matter because I never forgot you." The man walked slowly around the room, approached the agent, and pressed the cold steel of his weapon against Hotch's temple and slowly, as if caressing the face of a long-lost lover, ran the muzzle down Hotch's face until he reached his chin where the weapon was suddenly pressed hard against his Adam's apple, and raised Hotch's head so the two men could look directly into each other's eyes. "See, I don't mind that you don't remember me right now." He brought his face closer. "But I promise you will remember me by the time I'm finished with you." Smiling, he stepped back and wrapped his arms around himself. "But it's rude for a host not to introduce himself to his guest. Therefore, you can call me Death, and I have come back to claim you, Aaron. Does that name ring a bell?"
Hotch's eyes narrowed as he reached far back into the recesses of his brain to where he had heard that nickname before. After a few minutes he looked up, his eyes widened. "Jason Armitage!"
The man smiled. "Bravo! See, I knew you'd remember me."
"What have you done with Gillian Brennaman? If you've hurt her…"
"She's alive and well. But I would be more concerned with my own situation than worrying about her if I were you."
"Wait a minute. I prosecuted you for the murder of the man who supposedly killed your young child. You were sentenced to life without parole if memory serves."
This time Armitage reached out the other hand also encased in a latex glove and seized the agent roughly by the throat. "What do you mean, supposedly?" He applied a tiny bit of pressure making breathing a bit difficult. "He was guilty. And you let him go."
"I didn't let anyone go," Hotch replied carefully choosing his words. "He wasn't tried because, as I recall, there was so evidence proving he was the one who killed your son."
More pressure. "He was guilty!" Armitage screamed. "You didn't do your job, Aaron. Therefore, I had to do it for you. I had to be judge, jury and executioner because you didn't do your job. My son was four years old when he died. Four! And you then prosecuted me for killing the son-of-a-bitch?"
Hotch was finding it hard to breathe. Was this guy going to strangle him right now?
"I'm sorry," Hotch said hoping to get Armitage to relieve the pressure on his throat.
"You're just saying that so I'll let you live," he said sarcastically. "I should snap your neck right now and have done with it."
"But you won 't," Hotch calmly replied. "You didn't go through all this trouble just to kill me straight out. You want to make me suffer first. You want me to feel pain just like you." Hotch's head was beginning to swim from the pressure on his throat. After about a minute, Armitage thrust Hotch's head away from him when he released his hold.
"You're right of course. Killing you straight out wouldn't be even half as much fun as watching you suffer first. Besides, it doesn't matter anyway. Your lame apologies mean nothing." He turned and walked a few feet away from the agent, then turned and approached him again. "I was convicted thanks to you. Convicted and sentenced to life without the possibility of parole. Do you know what that did to my wife who was still reeling from the death of our only child? Do you, Aaron?" Hotch kept quiet as his throat was a bit sore. "Then let me enlighten you. She couldn't handle my going away for life. The day after I was sentenced, she went home and killed herself. She took her own life and I wasn't there to stop her."
"I'm sorry," was all Hotch could say again.
Armitage viciously backhanded the agent. "Stop saying something you don't feel. You aren't sorry. But you will be. You will pay for what you did to me, Aaron. But your death won't be simple nor easy. Oh no. Before you die I will see you suffer so much you will beg me to kill you, and then I will see you suffer even more. See, I couldn't get you out of my mind. Your face and name were permanently seared into my brain. I promised my late wife I would someday find you again and have my revenge. And here you are at last." He chuckled at the last sentence.
Hotch felt a trickle of blood run down from the corner of his mouth. "The police will find you," he said. "My team…"
"Your team. I don't think so, Aaron. See, I'm considered dead so nobody's even looking for me. I don't exist, which means I can have my way with you for as long as I want without fear of interruption."
"You killed those lawyers, didn't you?" Hotch asked suspecting he already knew the answer.
Armitage let out a deep breath and smirked. "Enough of this idle chit-chat for the moment. I have things to do. That said, he reached inside the agent's inner jacket pocket and removed his cell phone and the leather case holding his FBI identification. He opened the case and glanced at the credentials for a minute. "These will do very nicely for starters. Be right back." Armitage turned and headed into another room only to return shortly with a roll of duct tape and a syringe. Ripping off a strip of the duct tape he placed it roughly over the agent's mouth. "That's so you won't interrupt with what I have to do next." He smirked as he saw Hotch glaring at him.
JJ, Reid and Emily were sitting in the living room of the Brennaman home staying out of the crime scene unit's way in the kitchen. Before gathering in the living room, the agents searched the rest of the house for any sign of their missing Unit Chief without success.
"We were sitting right outside the entire time," Morgan complained as he ran a hand across the back of his neck. "The entire time and didn't suspect a thing. And now he's got Hotch!" Morgan punched his fist into the palm of his other hand.
Rossi shook his head. "We knew he would eventually make a move against Aaron but none of us thought it would be this soon. The fact that he did even with two FBI agents sitting outside the house tells me he's been spying on us the entire time we've been here, not to mention he's been leading us around by the nose the entire time."
"Well, I say it's time we did the leading," Morgan insinuated angrily. He jumped up and began stomping around. "C'mon, man," he snapped staring at Rossi. "This guy's got Hotch who we all knew was the one he was after. So why are we just sitting here? We should be out there looking for him."
"And we will, Derek, believe me. But we can't just go storming around without a plan. It would be a sure way to get Aaron killed," Rossi said.
Morgan pointed angrily towards the front door. "You don't think he's going to kill Hotch anyway? Hell, we heard his calls to him. He wants him dead and won't accept anything else! Hell, he could be dead already!"
"I don't think so," Rossi replied slowly getting to his feet. "Until we find a body I believe he's alive and we're going to find him."
Morgan smirked sarcastically. "You think so, huh? What makes you say that?"
Reid looked up at both men before focusing on the man he thought of as the older brother he never had. "Derek, I have to agree with Rossi. From what we know I don't believe he'll kill Hotch right away. If he wanted to he didn't have to kidnap him. It sounds like he could have killed him at different times but chose not to. And while I don't like to think about it, I believe he will probably torture him first before he ends his life."
"He's right," Prentiss concurred. "Look at Foyet when he attacked Hotch in his apartment that time. He had plenty of time to kill him and could just have easily done it. But he chose not to because he wanted to see Hotch suffer first."(1)
"Yeah, well…" Morgan stammered rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't like the idea of Hotch being tortured either."
"Neither do we, Derek," said Rossi putting a hand on the other man's shoulder. "But we know Hotch and he can tolerate a lot. And if he can hold out for awhile, it's give us that much more time to find him."
Morgan looked apologetically at the older agent. "That's a big if, Rossi."
"I know. But we will find him alive. I believe that and you have to also."
Morgan allowed a faint smile to appear. "You're right. I'm sorry, man."
Rossi smiled back. "I know you are. We're all worried about him. But we will get him back."
"Something I still don't understand," JJ interjected. "Is why does the description Mrs. Brennaman gave of the UnSub fit Hotch exactly? How does that fit into the profile now, and does it have a bearing on it?"
"I'd say yes," Reid replied looking at her. "I'd say since the UnSub killed five men all of whom resembled Hotch he has shown his obsession with him, and this obsession has led to him altering his own appearance so that he resembles Hotch so as to feed that obsession."
"So if I understand what you're saying," Prentiss added. "Is that he wanted to look like Hotch in order to keep alive his obsession with him. Every time he looked in his mirror he would see Hotch instead of himself."
"Exactly," Reid agreed. "Of course I can't be certain about this, but his obsession may even go as far as him believing he is Hotch and the real Hotch is an impostor who needs to be destroyed and is using Hotch's time as a prosecutor as way of solidifying what he believes."
"Your team is going to be quite upset, Aaron," he said with a grin. "Especially when they get here and we're not. That is simply because I know they will be able to trace any call using the GPS device in your cell. Therefore, we are going to be leaving here within the next thirty minutes. Also, I want to send your team on a wild goose chase so to speak. But now…" Sitting the credentials and cell phone on the floor, Armitage removed the protective cover from the syringe. He saw Hotch's eyes and noticed a look of concern. "This is to put you to sleep for our move. But don't worry. I have no intention of having you become addicted. At least unless I think it would be more fun to observe. Right now, I want you bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in order to scream in pain before I kill you. But nothing is etched in stone as they say." He approached Hotchner and yanked his jacket off one shoulder and then ripped the shirt sleeve at the shoulder exposing the upper arm.
"It's Phenobarbital. I researched exactly what I needed." With Hotch looking on in horror, praying that Armitage wasn't going to get him addicted to Phenobarbital like Tobias Henkel had done to Reid with the Dilaudid, all he could do right now is watch as the syringe was inserted into his arm and its contents injected. Removing the syringe, Armitage tossed it into a nearby wastebasket. "There we go, Aaron. You should be asleep in no time and then we shall be on our way. But I have two or three things to do before we go. So, pleasant dreams." He walked away leaving the agent alone tied to the chair. In a few minutes, Hotch found himself having difficulty keeping his eyes open and soon his world turned dark.
Their conversation was interrupted by the ringing of Rossi's cell phone. Reaching inside his jacket he removed the phone and saw the name on the caller ID. He answered the call with a bit of a smile.
"Hotch, where are you? We all thought…" His senses suddenly alerted him that something was not right.
"Ah yes, Agent Rossi I presume."
"Who is this and what are you doing with Agent Hotchner's cell phone?" Rossi's eyes took in the concerned expressions on the faces of the others. He put the phone on speaker.
"Agent Rossi, I know you've just put me on speaker so I will make this short as I'm aware there is a GPS device in it."
"Just tell me who you are and what…" Looking at Morgan, Rossi mouthed the name 'Garcia'. Morgan quickly left the room to telephone BAU's technical analyst.
"It's not nice to have this call traced while I'm speaking. Plus it'll be a waste of time as by the time you get here both I and Agent Hotchner will be gone. Where I am now is just a stopping off place."
"What do you want?" asked Rossi. "And how do we know you actually have Agent Hotchner? And if you do, how do we know he's still alive? All we have is you say so."
"True. But soon you will have all the proof you need. Once you have your proof, then we'll talk some more. And now I must go."
"Wait!" Rossi didn't realize he was shouting. "How do we know Agent Hotchner won't be dead in 24 hours?"
There was an evil laugh over the phone. "You won't. Goodbye." The call was disconnected.
"No, wait!" Rossi shouted but to silence. He slammed a fist down on the table. "Damn him!" He looked up at the others who all had the same thoughts as he.
Armitage smirked as he glanced at the cell as he laid it on the table beside Hotch's FBI credentials. He then glanced around knowing he only had maybe twenty to twenty-five minutes before the FBI and the police swarmed this place. Also, he had a long drive ahead of him and the federal agent would sleep for a few hours. With a smirk, he walked to the door, opened it and walked out, closing it behind him. He figured as he resembled the agent he couldn't chance being seen by Hotch's team, so he slid behind the wheel of his car and turned on the ignition. After a few short minutes, he drove away from the house and disappeared into the steady stream of traffic heading out of Alexandria, Virginia.
(1) George Foyet aka The Reaper who attacked Hotch in his apartment is from Nameless, Faceless, season 5.
