ix. Spring Water
"SSA Derek Morgan," the agent introduces himself and holds out his hand to help her out of the SUV. He looks at her suspiciously, but doesn't voice his concerns. "Hotch said you speak French. Didn't say much else. We need you to translate."
Derek guides her to the ambulance where Aaron and the paramedics are trying to calm frantic Lisette Geroux and passes her his FBI jacket when he notices her thin dress against the D.C. nighttime chill, clearly a gentleman.
"She keeps saying she doesn't know how to swim," she tells Aaron and Derek in a soothing tone for Lisette's benefit then takes the girl in her lap. She continues rocking Lisette still sobbing in French about water and glances at Aaron, who hasn't taken his eyes off of her. "Mon petit chou, voulez-vous rentrer à la maison?"
"Did Katz say anything that would—" Aaron starts, but she cuts him off.
"Water! Get me a map of the area. Morgan, here. Hold her." She tells Lisette in French to stay with her friend Derek, and passes the girl over to the other agent.
"What are you thinking, Em?" Aaron says quietly as they jog to the FBI SUV and find a map of the property.
"Drive, start driving," she orders him and they climb in to the SUV together. To his credit, he just starts the car and pulls away from the scene. "Turn left off this main road."
"There's a secondary location," he fills in.
"Lisette's saying she doesn't want to drown. There's a freshwater stream at the edge of the property," she offers. "They must be kept there. Katz said that the cages were full except when buyers are here."
It's by complete accident that they find the second compound, another underground hellhole. She trips over the cellar handle, sure enough, right next to the stream on the property. He goes down first because he's armed but she follows quickly. She hesitates to think it, but they work well together.
She feels like she's going to cry when she sees the group of girls trembling against the back wall.
"Hey, hey," he murmurs and holsters his weapon, hands in the air like he's approaching wounded animals. Three of the girls scream. She grabs his bicep and pulls him back.
"They were held by men. All men," she whispers, referring to the traffickers. "Go update your team. Send only female agents and paramedics down here."
He leaves her alone with thankfully all 14 girls. She steps closer and kneels a few feet in front of the group. "Hey, there. It's okay. We're the police, the good guys. We're going to take you home to your mommies and daddies, okay?"
One of the younger ones shoots out from behind an older girl and throws her arms around Emily's neck.
"It's okay, sweetheart. You're going home."
