A/N: This is a really long chapter, about twice the size of my usual ones. But it's worth it, I promise! Beta read, bunny-enhanced and partially written by the Gublerific editor frog!

Tuesday

"Where the hell is that file?" Hotch and Morgan had just arrived at the Saginaw police station, only to find that no file had been received from Quantico. Flipping his phone open, he dialed the number to Garcia.

--

The sharp signal from the office phone woke Garcia with a start. Jerking her head up from the desk, she instantly remembered the file she had not yet sent to Hotch in Michigan, and knew who that call was coming from. Pushing the button to answer, she didn't even greet the person on the other side of the line before blurting out an apology. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! I fell asleep!"

"Just send it over right now, Garcia." Click. Hotch did not sound like he was in a good mood, and the blonde computer technician was thankful the call didn't last longer. Furiously tapping her keys, she transferred the file to Saginaw in less than a minute.

Gideon had woken up at the ring of the phone, and had walked up behind the much stressed woman by the keyboard. "You forgot to send the file?"

"No, I didn't forget!" Garcia leaned back in the chair after pressing "send". Beads of sweat were actually forming on her brow. "I fell asleep."

Gideon nodded. "It happens." He leaned over the desk. "Any new riddle?"

"Not yet. The screen is still blank."

Disheartened, the older agent closed his eyes and nodded slightly. "I'll go get us some more coffee. Do you want anything to eat?"

"Anything that doesn't have glaze on it."

Leaving, Gideon was still letting previous cases flash before his eyes. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something he had forgotten.

--

Reid sat next to the wall, curling himself in as tight a ball as possible. He briefly thought of trying to find the small blanket he'd been given, but the overpowering heat and the fact that the blanket was full of salt changed his mind.

It wasn't just the dark that scared the young man. It was what the dark was hiding that scared him.

He strained his ears, trying to make out any unfamiliar noises around him. There was nothing—just the steady hum of the heat vent blowing warm air around him.

Whoever this UnSub is, they've put a lot of thought into all of this, Reid thought. Every move I make - or don'tmake - is carefully controlled. What I can't figure out is the pattern - I get "rewarded" for things I don't do and "punished" for things I don't do. Is there another aspect I'm not seeing to all this?

A heavy fluttering sound rattled towards the ceiling. Reid couldn't tell if the noise - or whatever was making it - was inside his prison or not.

The young agent held his breath in fear. What is that? he thought feverishly, praying that it was on the outside of the hatch door.

Soon Reid could feel his eyelids begin to droop. He wanted nothing more than to fall back asleep, but it was fear once again that stopped him from indulging in that simple desire. What if the sprinklers turn back on? What if it gets even colder than before? Or what if there's something worse?

The young man continued to sit, curled up in his tiny ball. Reid pulled his knees into his shirt, hoping to give him a little protection from whatever might come out at him.

----

Emily Prentiss raced through the short line at the MBS airport. She and JJ had just flown in, and they were eager to meet up with their colleagues to begin the search for Reid.

JJ had already beaten her to the punch. "Any news?" she asked as both she and Emily threw their bags in the back of the SUV.

"Rental car was paid in cash," Morgan replied. "However, we got a look at the contract - they weren't charged for any out-of-state driving. Wherever Reid is, he's in this state."

"Well, that's something," said JJ.

"Not really," said Hotch. "There's eighty-three counties in this state covering two peninsulas - that's a lot of ground to cover in a short time."

"Short time?" queried Emily.

"Judging from the amount of water in those bottles where Reid's being held, he's supposed to last another five or six days. And now it's been at least 3 or 4 days."

"Jesus…"

Suddenly there was a familiar chirp. "Talk to me, Garcia," said Morgan, his usual banter nowhere to be found.

"I have Cate Carell's address, home and at work."

"Beautiful."

"She's also registered at a local university."

"Great, send that over, will you?"

"You will have it on your cell in one minute."

"Thanks, doll. And Garcia? Don't fall asleep this time." Garcia merely muttered something inaudible before disconnecting, but Morgan took the answer as a "yes".

"What did she say, Morgan?" said Hotch.

"We've got an address for Cate Carell, she's sending it over right now.

"Great", Hotch said as Morgan fired up the engine.

----

Reid woke with a start. It was still pitch black, but thankfully he hadn't set off any alarms. The air was still, and the crushing silence that surrounded him threatened to bury him alive.

There was no way to tell how long he'd been asleep, but Reid knew that it hadn't been long enough. He thought about lying down on the concrete again, but the thought of the sprinklers was enough to keep him from doing so.

Is this how I'm going to die? Reid thought morbidly. Am I nothing more than a proverbial "punching bag" for someone to take pleasure in abusing?

He thought about that for a long time. This can't be just about hurting me, he concluded. The "leverage" theory is probably close to the mark—the question is, leverage for whom?

Reid's mind ran over everyone he knew; everyone he had any sort of relationship with. He mentally crossed his parents off of the list—Mom wasn't that strict a professor, and my father…well, I doubt he ever mentions me all that much, wherever the hell he is.

He thought about his few friends outside of work. None of them made any sense either—either I don't' see them much or they're as solitary as I am most of the time.

Reid settled upon his closest relationships—those of him and his colleagues. There might be something there, he thought.

But who?

He mentally ran through each one.

Emily's too new; I like her well enough, but we're not all that close yet.

JJ…well, I really can't see her making someone that angry, even during a press conference. Besides, if she were the target, the UnSub would probably have gone after one of her nieces or nephews…she talks about them all the time, and they seem really close…

Garcia—who on earth doesn't love Garcia?

Morgan's got a few enemies, but none that would go after anyone. They'd be more likely to target Morgan personally, or go after his mom or his sisters, than go through all of this…

Hotch must have a list of people who'd do something like this a mile long, what with his being a lawyer as well as an agent. Again, though, you'd think they'd go after someone closer, like his wife or his son…those would get an instant response, no question…

Gideon…

And suddenly, Reid had it. He'd cracked that much, at least.

Okay, so this is about Gideon. And the UnSub is using me.

He used this newfound knowledge to find the courage to stand up in the blinding darkness. "That's it, isn't it?" he called out, knowing full well that he wouldn't receive an answer. "This is about Gideon, and I'm the leverage, aren't I?"

As expected, no answer came. "Aren't I?" he repeated, more to himself this time than to anyone else.

There was no way for Reid to discern how long he'd been in this cell—he knew it had been at least three or four days at the most—but the young man was beginning to feel as if he were the last person alive. He didn't mind being alone—he could keep his own company, and had on many an occasion, but the knowledge that he would be alone for an interminable period was beginning to wear at him.

What I wouldn't give to hear another voice, he thought. Or a bird singing. Or waves crashing into a beach. Anything but the sound of silence and my own voice.

However, there was no way to hear any of those things. There wasn't even an annoying drip from the sprinkler heads to take Reid's mind off his loneliness—there was just the infinite darkness and the sound of his own breathing.

Frustrated, he began to do something no one had ever heard him do before—he began to sing, very softly. There was a song he remembered from when he was a child; it wasn't much, but he thought the tune fit his situation.

"Now I'm alone/the telephone

Don't tell me you don't need me/

I ask you why/you tell me lies

And say the truth will hurt me…"

His voice was barely audible, and it hitched in a few places where he fought the urge to break down into tears, but he continued until he'd finished the entire song. He had never felt so alone in his life.

----

Morgan and Hotch arrived at the Carell house just after 2PM. Closely followed by their female colleagues, they knocked on the massive oak door and stood back for it to hopefully be opened.

Moments later a middle aged brunette opened the door, looking rather confused. "Yes?"

"Is this the residence of a Cate Carell?" Hotch asked.

The woman looked even more confused. A man in a suit, two well dressed women and a black man looking like he just stepped off a runway were standing on her door step asking about her daughter. "Yes, she's my daughter. Has something happened?"

"I'm agent Hotchner, we're with the FBI", he continued as they all showed their credentials. "We'd like to ask your daughter a few questions."

Shaking her head in a mix of shock and puzzle, the woman took a few steps back inviting the agents into her hallway. "My daughter left on a trip last Tuesday with her friends. What is this all about?"

Emily looked at Morgan, who took a few steps closer to the woman. "Ma'am, I'm agent Morgan. We have reason to believe your daughter may be involved in a kidnapping."

"She's been kidnapped?!" The woman pressed her hands against her chest in sudden fright.

"No, no ma'am, that's not what I meant."

"What agent Morgan is trying to say", JJ broke in, "...is that we need to find her. There is a possibility that she has information relating to a kidnapping of a federal agent."

"My lord! Not my little Cate, she'd never do anything like that!" The woman shook her head resolutely. "You must have the wrong Cate."

"Have you talked to your daughter in the last three days, Mrs. Carell?" Hotch despised parents who idolized their children, painting them up to be perfect little angels when in fact they were out maiming and killing the public. Luckily he managed to repress his feelings from showing in his very controlled tone of speech.

"No, I haven't. She said she were going on a girls-only trip with her friends Angelica and Tracy; they were gonna be back in a two weeks."

Morgan sharply turned his head to face that of his superior. Angelica.

"Ma'am, is there anyway we could see Cate's room?" Emily moved closer to Cate's mother, trying to play the woman-to-woman card.

"I don't think... I... No. No you can't." Crossing her arms over her chest, she made her point quite clear. "You have the wrong Cate. My daughter would never do anything like that. It was nice to meet you agent Hotchner. Agents. Good day."

Getting the drift, the four agents politely left the house, only to stop on the porch in front of the door. Hearing it slam shut behind them, Hotch turned to JJ. "JJ, call for a warrant. We need to check that house. It's the best lead we have."

JJ nodded and pulled up her phone as she walked towards the black SUV accompanied by Emily.

Morgan and Hotch slowly walked down the path leading to the sidewalk. "So Cate and Angelica are in this together. But who's Tracy?"

"I don't know. Maybe we'll know more after searching Cate's room. We just have to wait for the warrant. That should be done in an hour or so."

"Should we go to the University? If we find out what classes she took and talk to some of her classmates, we might be able to find out where she was going."

"Good idea. Emily and JJ can perform the search with some of the MI field operatives. Let's go towards University Center."

Jumping into the black SUV, the two men sped off towards the neighboring town, both fully intent to find the mystery that was Cate Carell.

--

The creaking sound of the hatch opening pulled Reid out of his reverie. He didn't bother to get up - after all, it wasn't like the person on the other end was going to actually say anything to him, anyway.

Reid took in the familiar sounds of the line dropping and the basket hitting the floor. The small object tapped against the concrete floor, signaling the young agent to remove its contents.

Heaving a sigh, Reid picked himself up and tried to find the little basket in the dark. He ran his hands over the now-dry concrete, searching for the object he couldn't see.

After finding the note inside, the basket was quickly lifted and the metal door sealed tightly shut. A few moments later, the lights came back on—though they were so dim that the word light was merely a formality.

Reid took the note in his hands and struggled to make out he words in the too-dim light that he was allowed.

I bet you're lonely, the note began. It's isolating to hear nothing but the sound of your own voice, isn't it?

Yes, Reid thought desperately.

Perhaps I can help you with that - at least for a minute or two. But, it's going to cost you.

Reid shuddered. He'd already given up his pants - what more would this UnSub demand from him?

I will give you the opportunity to make one phone call. The phone will disconnect automatically after one minute. You may call anyone you want.

A phone call?! Reid's heart jumped in his chest. He would be able to call someone; tell them what had happened and ask for help! But what is the UnSub going to want in return? He continued reading the note and found his answer.

In return, I want your shirt. It is up to you if you choose to take the offer. However, it's only good until the door opens. It is your decision, Dr. Reid.

Reid's heart was pounding. A phone call. His shirt seemed like a reasonable price for the opportunity to contact someone and tell them about his predicament. But then again... he would be nearly naked, and if the temperature dropped again he would have nothing in the way of protection.

He had the blanket, though. It wasn't much, but neither was his shirt. The young doctor had only moments to decide whether to take the offer or not, and his mind was racing.

If I give up my shirt, I'll have no cover. But if I call Garcia, she could trace the call. They'd be here in no time.

As the hatch once again opened with a deafening creak and the basked was lowered to the floor, Reid had made his decision. It was worth it. He unbuttoned his shirt and placed it carefully in the basket. The basket disappeared, and there was only silence.

Waiting anxiously, the young agent wrapped his arms around himself. Despite the extreme humidity and warmth in the cell, he felt strangely cold. Knowing that someone was watching every move he made sent an eerie feeling down his spine. He felt like he was in a showcase, caught in a display area with no chance to escape.

Placing one foot on top of the other, he peered up into the pitch black opening above him. A few moments later, the basket slowly returned, stopping chest level of the young agent. He looked inside.

A cell phone.

--

The courtyard at CMU was much like one on any other college campus the agents had been on in recent years; it was square, with paved pathways leading towards brick halls of learning. They had caught up to a young woman, Jenny Hansen, who was a friend of the Carell girl.

"She's been talking about the trip for a long time." The young blonde standing before Hotch and Morgan carried a big pile of books, and at this point looked very perplexed. It obviously wasn't an every day occurrence that a couple of FBI-agents came up to her on school grounds asking questions about her friends.

"Did she say where she was going?" Morgan asked.

"New York. She was going with some friends of hers coming in from overseas."

"Overseas?" Hotch flinched.

"Yeah, she's been talking to a couple of girls from somewhere in Europe on the internet for about a year. One of them has already visited her about 6 months ago, but she went back again. This time they were both coming."

"Do you know where the girls came from, aside from Europe?"

"No, sorry."

"Are the girls named Angelica and Tracy?"

"Yeah, that's them. Look, has something happened to Cate?"

"No, but we need to reach her as soon as possible."

"Well, you can have her cell phone number, I have it right here." The young blonde flipped her phone open and relayed the numbers to Morgan. Dialing, he took a few steps away from the others.

Hotch turned to the blonde again. "Has Cate been acting strange lately? Any changes in her behavior?"

"No... Just that she's been really happy lately because her friends were coming."

"Alright. Thank you, Jenny." Hotch left the girl and joined Morgan. "Anything?"

"It's ringing."

--

JJ and Emily had obtained the search warrant and were now going through Cate Carell's room, all during the constant rambling from Cate's mother about how innocent her daughter was.

"Hey Emily, look at this." JJ held up a photography in a frame. The image showed three young women standing in a park holding balloons, all smiling. "Does this girl look like Angelica to you?"

Emily walked over to her colleague. "Yeah... But it's not a spitting image."

"Dye and cut the hair, add fake tits and a nose job."

"It's her."

JJ took the photograph over to Cate's mother. "When was this taken?"

"Last year when Cate went to Europe for spring break."

"Which one of these girls is your daughter?"

Annoyed, Mrs. Carell pointed to the picture. "The one in the middle."

"And the other girls?"

"That is Angelica", Mrs. Carell said and pointed the blonde on Cate's left, "...and that's Tracy." She pointed to the petite brunette on the right.

"Thank you, Mrs. Carell." JJ went back into Cate's room, joining Emily. "It's Angelica."

Suddenly a screechy version of The way I are began playing somewhere in the room. Emily looked at her colleague. "Is that your cell?"

"No." JJ went over to the desk, picking up the small Motorola that was making the noise. "It's Morgan's number!"

"Well, answer it."

"Morgan?"

"JJ?"

The blonde agent could hear the confusion in her co-worker's voice. "I'm guessing you got Cate's number from someone."

"Yeah, a girl at CMU. Where are you?"

"We're at the Carell house. She left her phone on her desk, so no help there."

"Keep searching. There has to be something there."

"Yeah. Call if you got something."

"You got it."

As JJ put the phone down on the desk, she noticed a notebook beside the small laptop. Pulling it out from under a pile of school books, she read the writing on it. "6 1 C4445 415T550 127." She frowned. "Does that sound like homework to you?"

Emily shook her head. "No, it doesn't. Call Garcia and give her those numbers, see what she can come up with. And bring that photo when we leave, we need the faces."

JJ lifted her phone to call the computer genius of Quantico. "Hey, Garcia, how is it going?"

"Lousy. There's no new riddle, and we are feeling utterly useless. Please tell me you've got work for me."

"I have. I'm gonna read you some numbers now that I want you to run. We found them on Cate Carell's desk."

"Shoot."

"6 1 C4445 415T550 127. You got it?"

"Got it."

"I'll also scan and send over a picture of Cate, Angelica and a friend of theirs named Tracy. See what you can get on her."

"Your wish is my command. JJ?"

"Yeah?"

"We'll find him... Right?"

"Of course we will. Talk to you later." Hanging up, she hardly had any faith herself in the statement she had just made. Reid seemed to be lost forever. But they still had to try their very best.

--

Reid took the phone and began dialing Garcia's number. But then he stopped. As much as he wanted to hear Garcia's voice, there was one voice he wanted to hear more. Gideon's. He'd have Garcia trace the call afterwards, that was for sure. The young doctor needed to hear the voice of his mentor; needed to tell him what had happened to him.

Dialing, Reid felt his heart beat straight out of his chest. He was finally going to talk to someone! And to Gideon at that! A few signals went by before he heard the hoarse voice he had come to know during his years at the FBI.

"Gideon."

"Gideon, oh thank God!" he blurted out, close to tears, his voice cracking. "Please help me, I've been locked in a cell somewhere and..."

"Hello?"

"Gideon, it's me, Reid! Please help me!" Reid nearly yelled in the small cell phone.

"Is there anyone there?"

Reid realized to his horror that the phone was a one-way communicator. He could hear Gideon, but Gideon couldn't hear him. He broke down crying on the floor, feeling every last bit of hope leaving him with his tears. Crying silently, he tried to listen to his colleague; take in every word he said before he got sick of the silence and hung up. But as Reid listened, some hope returned to him. He could hear Gideon talking to Garcia.

"Can you get a trace on this call?"

"No problem."

"Reid? Is that you? Talk to me, son."

Reid wanted to; he wanted to so badly, but all he could muster were small whimpers and sniffles, knowing that anything he said would not be heard anyway. He simply listened.

"Reid, if that is you – we're on it, trust me. We will find you. Don't lose heart, you are stronger than this. We are all working this one. Reid... I'm sorry. This is..."

Click.

The phone had disconnected and the line was once again silent. Reid's tears changed from those of despair to those of anger. He stood up, clutching the phone in his hand, and glared at the camera.

"Why?! Why did you do that?!" Reid was furious, nearly screaming at the small piece of technique peering at him. "You bastard!" In rage, the young doctor flung the cell phone at the camera, missing it with mere inches, and it smashed into a thousand pieces against the wall.

Seconds later, he realized what he had done. He had destroyed the only means Garcia would have to track him, and on top of that – he may very well have angered his captors. Wearing nothing but his boxers and socks, the young agent backed up against the wall the farthest away from the camera, pressing himself up to the near scalding concrete, arms once again wrapped around him. Oh, God... What did I just do?

--

"Hello? Reid? Reid?" Gideon hung up the phone. "It got disconnected. Did you get a trace?"

Garcia nodded. "Yes and no."

"What do you mean 'yes and no'?"

"I got a trace, yes – but I very much doubt that Reid is calling from a payphone in Moscow. The phone call was bounced around so many times it felt more like a ping-pong game than a conversation."

Moments later, a message lit up on the screen. Both agents huddled up and read it.

Having fun with the phone company, are we? This was Dr. Reid's reward for being good. Unfortunately, he misbehaved badly when the call was over and will now be punished.

You will now get a new riddle. I have been generous with them so far, but now I will only give you one per day, and you will have exactly one hour to solve it. Otherwise there will be consequences.

Gideon and Garcia watched in dismay as the message dissolved and was replaced by a URL and yet another textbox.

The older agent slowly shook his head. "Here we go again."

A/N: I know what everyone is thinking right now: What will Reid's punishment going to be? Well, you'll just have to wait and see. If you want to see the riddle recieved by the BAU, go to my profile and click the link that says Riddle Number 4. Can you solve it?