DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters. New chapter up! Trying to make the chapters longer because I'm starting to wind the story down a little bit, just a couple more chapters to go. Anyways, enjoy and please review!

Hotch had ordered Derek to sift through the small amount of information they had on Samuel Davinbury for the umpteenth time until the DA arrived. His eyes grew tired of reading over the same words and his worry about Reid's whereabouts increased by the minute. What if he was hurt? He knew that last time with Tobias had robbed Reid of his innocence, never having that same curiosity or spark any longer after that. So, here he was. Sitting, sifting, reading, waiting. He was about to dive into another page of Davinbury's rough childhood in an orphanage when his cell phone saved him from doing so.

He checked the caller to see it was his favorite IT tech and answered, "Hey baby girl, give me some good news."

"Derek," Garcia's voice was quiet. Scared.

And she never used his first name unless it was an emergency.

He stood up from his chair immediately, "Penelope, what's wrong?"

"Umm…g-get Hotch-just get everyone together. Now."

He hesitated, having a million questions for Garcia, but complied, "Ok, hold on."

He saw Hotch in Ellory's office going over a file and Prentiss and Rossi in the break room drinking two well deserved coffees.

"Hotch!" he shouted, storming into Ellory's office to see Hotch look up at him, "Garcia needs to tell us something. Now."

The BAU division leader sensed the intensity in Derek's voice and set the file down, excusing himself from his conversation with Ellory. The two walked outside the office and towards Emily and Dave, Hotch announcing, "We need to gather everyone in the conference room, immediately."

Both agents set their coffees down without hesitation and Prentiss nodded, saying, "I'll go get JJ, I saw her talking with one of the officers."

As she walked away, Rossi asked, "What's this all about, Hotch?"

He gestured for Derek and Rossi to follow him to the conference room temporarily designated for the FBI agents and said, "I'm not sure yet, but Derek told me Garcia had something important to show us."

Rossi and Hotch turned around to see Derek talking on the phone as they hurriedly walked over to their room, speaking to their tech genius, "Yeah, Garcia. No, we're heading there now. I'm going to put you on speaker."

Rossi closed the door and pulled the shades down, Garcia's tense voice sounding in the room, "I'm going to send you a link to website I received. Looks like they got through my firewall…except no one can-I-I don't know how…" She was becoming hysterical.

"Garcia, what's this all about?" Hotch asked, growing impatient but knowing not to show it in front of Penelope when she was in this state.

"Just watch," she answered in a small voice, on the verge of tears.

On the white screen in front of the table, Garcia's link popped up then a fuzzy video of a man, sitting in a chair, and a gag around his mouth. The person was bleeding heavily from what looked like a few big gashes to the side of his head and blue bruises masked the rest of it. Hands and feet tied behind his back, he looked hopelessly at the camera, frightened.

Hotch instantly sat up from his chair in horror and shock, everyone's eyes glued to the screen.

"Reid," Derek whispered in the tiniest voice possible.

Prentiss and JJ walked in and closed the door, confused at why everyone had horrified expressions on their faces, until they noticed the video playing.

There was already a man talking in the video although the voice was purposefully distorted and warped. The room was dark and the video quality was very low so it was difficult to see any faces either, although each team member recognized Reid when they saw him.

The voice was coming from behind the camera, so no faces were seen, except the bald, lean body of another man to Reid's side dressed in all black. His face was shadowed and the live feed was very grainy so no features were seen clearly.

The unsub was in the middle of a sentence as the team tuned in to this sinister channel, "-going to ask you again, how were you able to make the connections? Did someone leak any information to you?"

Reid defiantly looked on, making it clear he was not going to answer any questions. A surge of pride spread through Hotch as he acknowledged the loyalty of each of his agents, but also fear, that Reid's courage could also get him killed.

The man off to Reid's side brought up a needle from his long, black coat. It's contents unknown but clearly not good.

Reid couldn't see what the man was doing behind him, struggling to get a visual, but not wanting to take his eyes off the man behind the camera.

The entire BAU teams' eyes watched with horror as the man with the needle came into Reid's field of vision and held up the syringe with a psychotic smile. Reid was in full on defense mode now, trying desperately to kick with his oxfords and colorful mismatched socks at the unsub. Yet, there obviously wasn't much he was able to do in his position. The man, mockingly, slowly inched closer to Reid with the needle and plunged it into his arm. Reid tried not to make a sound from the harsh stab of the syringe and the drugs they had put in him, but a small moan escaped his lips and his eyes were squeezed shut.

The man stepped back and let the camera get a full view of his hard work, looking directly into the lens and at the team.

"Say hello, Agent Reid," the man offscreen directed him, making it clear to everyone he had full control.

Reid looked into the camera with a look that made JJ let out a small cry. It was desperation, fear, pain, and hopelessness in one expression. Hotch looked away, as if Reid had directed that look right to him.

The last image they saw of Reid was the bald man in black roughly walk up to Reid, raise his muscled arm, and punch the FBI agent hard enough to knock him out cold. He chuckled at his good work, looked at the camera. A sick laugh sounding in the back as the screen went pitch black.

The unsub behind the screen walked into view of the camera. Hotch narrowed his eyes at the screen, looking for something, anything, as an indication of where his agent was being kept or who this man was. But this unsub was smart, smarter than the low ranking community college he almost flunked out from specified that he was. You could see everything but his face, the camera perfectly positioned to get everything from the neck down. He began to speak, "Hello BAU agents! You must be thinking that the poison we just injected into your little friend here," he nudged Reid's foot, but he was completely unconscious, "we signed his death certificate."

Everyone back in the BPD conference room intently hung onto every word this maniac said.

"Well, not the case. But, I must say, I am a little disappointed at your work so far. I mean, it took the youngest and most inexperienced of all of you to get some actual headway on my work. You've been dillydallying for much too long, and, as your little profile has suggested, I don't like to loiter with my guests. You have around, let's see… 25 hours to save your friend? Something like that, I mean poison is poison. Can't really put a time frame on it. And, next time my fellow agents," he switched from his mocking tone to a very serious one, "do better."

The screen went dark.

….

Garcia was crying, JJ had her head on Emily's shoulder, Prentiss was in full fledged shock, Derek was angry, Rossi looked solemn and stared off into space, and Hotch stood motionless. None of them knew what to make of what they just saw.

What was in the syringe? Were there two unsubs? Who did the killing? Well, obviously the bald man from the look of glee he got when hurting Reid, but did he do this all on his own?

These questions ran through Hotch's mind as he was still frozen in his place, hovering above his chair.

Ellory walked in at the complete wrong moment.

"Hey, Agent Hotchner, the DA's here-"

When he saw the looks on everyone's faces, he stopped.

There was a moment of awkward silence as the agents tried to keep it together after Reid's torture channel just went to commercial.

Hotch cleared his throat, fixed his jacket, and turned around to face Ellory with a look made of steel.

"Take me to him."

….

Hotch, even after all his mind just digested after the video, walked with prestige and formality, embodying the qualities of an FBI leader. Mr. Leiland was in the middle of the precinct, surrounded by officers shooting him accusatory glares, even the suspicious detective that Prentiss had pointed out at the crime scene yesterday. The one looking at Ellory and the victim with much disgust. Walking up to the DA, calmly, Hotch said, "Mr. Leiland. Your cooperation to come willingly will make this questioning much easier than if you didn't."

"Didn't have much of a choice did I, agent?" the DA spat the word in Hotch's direction.

Hotch gave no reaction to Mr. Leiland's inappropriateness, but inside, he was fuming. I don't have time for this, he thought, impatiently.

"Right this way, Mr. Leiland," and followed him and the wall of officers around the DA to the interrogation room.

….

So far, Mr. Leiland had given up nothing. He was sitting in the small interrogation room, handcuffed to the desk, alone, as Hotch, Ellory, and Rossi, who had joined them not too long ago, watched from the one way glass. Leiland couldn't see them, but they sure as hell could see him. Ellory had gone in a short while before, trying to get some information out of the Boston DA, but their encounter ended in waving hands and yelling.

So they were waiting. Trying to make Leiland uncomfortable, on edge, so he was more likely to give up some information. One thing was for sure: the DA cared more about saving his own ass than anyone else's.

"Maybe we should try again now?" Ellory inquired, looking at the FBI agents as if waiting for permission.

Through the course of the case, the team had grown fond of Ellory. He was reliable and pulled through on the tasks he was given, never hesitating when asked of something. He trusted the FBI agents in full and was a cop who truly cared for this city and its civilians. After all, he was the one who called the BAU when his boss had directed him not to.

"A little bit longer," Rossi said, all three staring at the DA, who seemed to be growing impatient, "just a little bit longer…"

When Reid saw the needle with the turbid, white liquid race for his forearm, any last shard of hope in being saved, vanished. Here he was: alone, bleeding, helpless, drugged with who knows what, and surrounded by two maniacal killers.

He knew the camera poised in front of him was feeding the rest of the team, most likely at the police station, the events that just unveiled. The first unsub had a laptop in his hands, Reid wasn't too out of it to put two and two together that he was broadcasting live to his friends.

His blood felt tainted, as if he could feel the foreign liquid coursing throughout his room was becoming unfocused and he could feel a layer of sweat start to envelope the back of his neck. Nausea hit him hard and his stomach seemed to be kicking him from the inside out.

Then, a strong fist launched towards his jaw bone out of nowhere, he heard a crack, and was out like a light.

….

Hotch entered the interrogation room with a sigh, spending his sweet time at the door looking over his papers before even glancing at the Boston district attorney. He had to play this right. Leiland wasn't stupid. He needed to approach him the right way to extract any valuable information at all. The DA was definitely keeping something from the police and FBI, and at this point, anything would be useful in the search for Reid.

Derek and Prentiss ran to the lab after the broadcast of Reid to ask about toxins or poisons from A-Z that could kill in a 24 hour range. Garcia, needing to keep busy, reviewed and cross checked all her sources, contacts and information about Davinbury twice, and also tried to find anything about the second unsub that recently popped into the picture. It was a race against time, and Leiland definitely wasn't in a hurry.

He locked eyes with Hotch as he walked to the desk with an impatient expression on his face, not very pleased about the countless hours spent in the small, gray room.

"Sorry about the delay Ross, you know how it is when a serial killer's running around. It's just work, work, work," he matched Leiland's gaze, "isn't it?"

The DA didn't respond. Hotch began his interrogation.

"How long have you been in office?" Hotch inquired.

It took a while but the man in handcuffs replied, "Almost 5 years."

"Anything like this ever happen on the streets since you've been appointed?"

"No," was the impatient and cranky answer.

"Do you like your position as district attorney?"

"What does this have to do with-" Leiland said with hostility.

"Answer the question," Hotch kept his gaze dead center in Leiland's eyes.

"Yes."

"That's funny, because from the way you've been protecting Boston so well, I would have thought the opposite. And can take your job away with one phone call." Hotch's brown, intense eyes never left the DA's for a second.

Leiland's eyes, however, were full of fury-and even fear. This job was everything to him. Hotch inwardly smiled, knowing he was slowly getting somewhere, breaking the tough exterior of the DA down.

"Why do you like your job?"

There was a huff of frustration from the DA before he responded, "because it can provide for me and my family."

Hotch was silent for a moment before asking again, "Are you a native of the city?"

Ellory and Rossi stared intently at the conversation unfolding before them, Ellory baffled at Hotch's seemingly random questions. They had a deadline, their 25 hours shrinking to around 20 by now.

"What's he doing?" Ellory asked Rossi, standing next to him.

"Each person needs a specific method and approach to make them crack," Rossi explained, "obviously Leiland is very proud, and doubting that pride may be just the thing to get him to talk."

Another impatient yes came from the DA.

"So, you've been working this job for a few years, have a family, get to stay in your hometown…seems to me like helping this city would be your main purpose." Hotch slightly chuckled, "Where did they go wrong?"

Leiland stared at the agent in front of him with barely contained anger, "What do you mean?"

"What kind of elected official doesn't disclose information about a serial killer, having a spree on your streets, to not save the lives of countless citizens?" Hotch asked, in all seriousness. He knew he was coming down hard but every minute counted and now two unsubs to take care of.

"No! No, no, no!" Leiland started to get mad, "You cannot interrogate me like this! I want a lawyer, a judge, a warrant, and you and all your agent asses back to wherever the hell you came from!"

Hotch stood up from his chair in outrage. Who was this man to speak? His team was out there right now trying to protect the civilians of this man's city, one of their team members was kidnapped and dying on his behalf, and the district attorney of Boston was sitting on valuable information!

He came up close to Leiland, right in his face. Hotch's approach was, in fact, working. They were making some headway.

In a low, menacing tone, Hotch said, "No one wants you. No one wants to represent you, protect you, see you, believe in you. You gave up on this city so they gave up on you. You think my agents and I are the problem? Right now, the only person, besides the killers themselves, who actually had some credible knowledge of the case is tied to a chair and his organs are shutting down, because of you. He's one of us. You let 34 innocent lives slip through your fingers, and after all that, you won't even disclose what you know about the murderers. Your family would be ashamed of your actions, this city already is. Now, why don't you make use of the little patience I have left and tell me everything you know about these unsubs, maybe then I'll consider to not write a note that says 'possible serial killer accomplice' on your file and maybe keep some kind of job in criminal justice. I don't know…maybe they need more security guards downstairs or secretaries to make coffee runs. It's your choice, and I beg you to call my bluff."

The room was even quieter than silent, as if the air itself was speechless. Even Ellory and Rossi in the next room stood frozen after that speech, Ellory's mouth hanging wide open. The DA sitting in front of Hotchner was, most likely for the first time in his life, quiet. He probably never heard anyone say things like that to him before this, no one had.

Hotch stilled looked at Leiland expectantly, waiting for an answer. He was running out of time, poison already beginning to do its damage to Reid.

After a long pause, Ross Leiland barely stammered, "I-I- uh, he came into my office right after the first couple murders were discovered, with an appointment…he looked just about normal-"

"What do you mean by 'just about'?"

"Well, when he spoke, it was…," the DA paused to remember the meeting, "He talked funny, with big words and lots of jokes. It felt like his emotions weren't right, like he was too happy. He shouldn't have been happy with the request he had."

"What was his request?"

"He wanted me to stop the investigation of the murders that had just taken place in the city, back then it hadn't even been classified as serial murders yet. But, the weird thing was, he was laughing the whole time, and his friend couldn't keep his eyes of the pictures on my desk-"

"His friend?" Hotch cut off, quickly.

"Oh, right sorry, he brought someone with him. A tall, skinny, bald gentleman dressed in weird leather clothes. The whole thing was just off, and the man, he called himself Bonnie, looked very intelligent. Almost too smart, where it had started messing with his mind a little," the DA eagerly gave up the information, on roll now that he had finally started.

"Bonnie," Hotch repeated, "That doesn't match the name we have in our records. His real name is Samuel Davinbury, and all our files suggest he's very unintelligent, barely hanging on to his job as a teacher."

"Well, I wouldn't look too much into the name Bonnie, I mean, he called the other guy Clyde. I'm sure if you call my secretary she'll have some records about the day he came in. Possibly it was under the name Davinbury after all. But, about him not being, at least to some degree, intelligent, well…I have to disagree. Now that you brought it up, my phone started glitching out then and when he saw me struggling, he just fixed it for me. Right there. And it didn't look easy either."

"About his friend, you said he kept looking at the pictures on your desk?"

"Yes, the entire conversation. The whole entire time were talking, Clyde would just blatantly stare at the crime scene photos of the murders on my desk. And Bonnie kept telling me to," Leiland quoted what Bonnie had said, "'kindly and cordially turn a blind eye to the recent deaths plaguing the city.' All he did was laugh the whole time while Clyde either checked out the murder pictures or got nervous when Bonnie spoke too much."

Hotch looked in Rossi's direction, not being able to see him directly behind the tinted wall, but knew Dave understood the notion nonetheless.

Rossi nodded, even though Hotchner couldn't see it, and started walking out of the booth. Ellory was dumbfounded, calling after Rossi, "Wait!"

Rossi patiently turned around.

"That's it? I mean, he gave little info about where Davinbury and Agent Reid are now. Almost nothing about the two unsubs."

Rossi chuckled, and when Ellory blankly stared at him, he continued, "Our DA here gave much more than he knew. From what he told us, we know the first unsub is intelligent, someone who likes to show off his brains, and most likely is going to contact us again soon to rub it in our faces they have Reid. This also means any information we had on his past is false, if he's as smart as people say he is, then I'm sure it would have been no problem altering his records a little bit. We need to call Garcia and tell her to revaluate everything. He's impulsive and will not want to stay hidden for much longer, maybe even accidentally giving up a clue as to where Reid is. His meeting with DA proves this even further, only going to speak with Leiland to flaunt his work, making sure the most powerful attorney in the city got a hold of his case. Now, the other unsub, Clyde, is much more cautious, but a lot more violent. Leiland said he would become nervous whenever Bonnie said too much, making it obvious he did the killing, but wanted to keep the whole thing under wraps. He doesn't care who sees him kill, as long as he can do it. So you see, we have everything we need to know from Leiland."

Ellory was awestruck, "That was…amazing."

Rossi smirked before turning back around, "You've got a lot to learn, Greg," and walked out of the room to the main precinct.

….