*me* opens mouth to explain why the late update.
*readers* clamp my mouth shut.
Thank you sooo much to everyone who faved, folled and reviewed :D you guys are awesome and your words bring such a big smile to my face :) thanks.
Woohoo! I've reached double digits!
Warning: Bad boy Reied and everything that implies.
Disclaimer: Nup, still not mine.
Reid entered the room and slumped to the floor, leaning heavily on the bed, running the events of the day through his mind. It hadn't been so much a physical day, but once again his morals were struggling again. In less than eight hours, they were going to take down their biggest target yet. The Lasher Dogs would never see what was coming. The whole gang had set up an ambush, and he was only supposed to be here for a quick shower and equip himself with an extensive array of knives he had earned from his jump from the rooftop.
Frustrated, and unsure of what to do, Reid lashed out and inched the bed, causing the photos that were stored in his pillow come loose, and flutter to the ground. Sighing, he reached out and grasped them, about to shove them back into the linen. But then he caught a glimpse of the image.
It was taken in one of the many hospitals they had visited, though perhaps not one of the more cheerful ones, as it had been taken after Hotch had been attacked by the reaper. He was lying in the bed, trying to summon a smile, but he was already heavily weighed down by anxiety and guilt. The team were assembled around him, himself leaning on a crutch, his leg strapped tightly into a leg brace. They had just been through so much, but they blinded together and formed a close bond.
Roughly, he shoved the photo back into the pillowcase, and with a grumble hoisted himself up and meandered around the room, looking for what he needed to make the call. His new path was suddenly clear. He would tip off the police, but be cryptic enough that by the time the police figured it out, it all would already be going down, so when the police arrived, he would take off with his friends. And even if he did get nabbed, then whoever they had as a technical analyst would've probably have back-tracked through the voice distorter, and he would get a light charge, since he had dobbed them in, somewhat. Usually, the CIA would've been able to wriggle him out of it since he was in witness protection, but in his case, the CIA were keeping themselves as far away as they could, for some annoying reason.
Stooping down, he picked up the voice distorter -which he had acquired after a hostage situation of a Rottweiler, it was really funny how much such a short person could love a dog about the same size as him- and scooped up the phone. Quickly, he did a semi-difficult code, and then made another, different code that told the investigators where the actual code was, while consulting a street directory This was Vegas, they would name a street something so wild it would be perfect.
Once everything was in order, about half an hour later, he collected himself, and recorded the message on the distorter. This may have sounded simple when he had thinking about it in his head, but he had to record many replies to what the person on the other end might say, and he couldn't personally deliver a worded message, because they might get him, or post it because that would take too much time. He played them once, and satisfied that there was no easy recognition, he slowly dialled the hot-line that had been set up for organised crime.
The phone rang twice, and then, with a click, a woman answered. "Hello? This is the OCU line."
But it wasn't just any woman. This one was feisty, independent, and one of the people the respected most in the world.
Her name was Emily Prentiss.
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"We've just gotten a tip-off." Prentiss reported, standing slightly from the desk she was occupying. Everyone rushed to her side, and she played it on the speaker. The callers voice ranged from extremely high and squeaky, to deep and gravely.
"Hello? This is the OCU line."
"... I'm about to tell you the location of the location where shit is going to hit the fan, do you understand?"
"Why don't you just tell us?"
"That would spoil all the childish fun, wouldn't it?"
"You don't need to do this, just tell us where whatever it is is happening, and we'll make sure no one will get hurt."
"That's kinda the whole point. Eggs are supposed to be broken, Yadda Yadda."
"Fine, tell me the location of the location of the thing you are reporting."
"I just did."
And then the line was cut off, leaving the surrounding agents puzzled.
"Do you think it was a taunt, or even a prank from some drunk?" Marcel suggested.
"No, even through the voice distorter he used, he sounded like he had thought through his words, also using the distorter points to this being pre-meditated." Rossi explained, mostly for Ryain's benefit.
"And you could hear those clicks before and after he spoke? He had recorded those, even more before-hand thinking." Morgan pointed out.
"So the message is in what he said." JJ confirmed.
"Let's send this to Garcia, she should be able to unravel the distorting, and then we can start profiling it, and send it around to see if anyone recognises it." Hotch ordered.
Little did he know, as soon as he heard it, he would instantly know whose voice it was, one that he had been yearning to hear for over five months.
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Rocx Stredd was sitting in front of his Apple Mac, frowning at the screen. Usually he wouldn't trust a request from a stranger, but one of his better customers had introduced him, so it couldn't hurt.
What else that couldn't hurt was the half million price on his head.
The picture was obviously taken with a long range camera, and was of a gangly man in his late twenties exiting from a car.
He had brown brown hair, about and inch long in places, warm brown eyes and a handsome face. He was dressed like he was twice his age, decked out in a suit and tie. When all was added up, he looked too young and innocent to be hunted by a someone crazed enough to put so much money to his capture.
Money that the head of the Lasher Dogs wanted.
Dun, dun, dunnnnnnnnnn! Now, I don't really know if you would get away with crime if you were under witness protection, but if you can't let's escape to my special little world were you can :) Now let's play a little game of guess the potential street names where the location of the little ambush is going down! Quite a long title, I know :p
Please Reveiw! I'm aiming to have more than five! But I'll still write...