Disclaimer: see chapter 1
A/N: Instead of moving forward in this story, we're going to go backwards! This is entirely a flashback chapter, chronicling JJ's evolution up to the Weston Art Gallery warehouse (chapter 1). If you still have any questions about JJ's development or the team's goals after this chapter, please ask in a review or PM me. There may be a few things I've left unanswered on purpose, but all the same, I'd rather not risk plot holes.
Enjoy!
"Jennifer," Madame Secretary Teresa Kalat greeted as JJ entered the Harry S. Truman Building. "Welcome to the State Department."
"Thank you, Madame Secretary," JJ responded flatly.
Though her work with the Pentagon was fulfilling in its own right, it wasn't where she'd wanted to be. She missed the BAU, and that made all the difference in the world. As a result, she did her work as quickly as she could and bolted for home as soon as she was done. With Will working at Metro PD, they were both grateful for JJ's "normal hours."
But her work had been impressive as well as quick, catching her boss' eye, and now here she was being shared with the State Department.
She really had to stop impressing people.
"I must say, your sincerity is a bit lacking," the Secretary noted, though she didn't look at all displeased.
"If I may speak honestly, Madame Secretary." JJ waited for the Secretary to nod before continuing, "I have enough work with the Pentagon."
"I do believe that to be true," the Secretary replied. "However, I also heard that you are very good at your work and extremely efficient to boot."
"With all due respect, Madame Secretary, that doesn't mean I relish extra work."
The Secretary laughed. "You're going to have to get used to it, darling. I know for a fact that DHS and the Justice Department also have their eyes on you."
And despite present company, JJ let loose a groan.
The Secretary laughed again.
"Come, Jennifer. We have much to discuss," the Secretary said and began leading JJ to her office. "And do stop referring to me as 'Madame Secretary.' I find it to be too stuffy. A simple 'ma'am' will suffice."
"DHS and Justice too?"
Secretary Craig Whishaw turned to smirk at the new arrival. "Ah, so Teresa told you then."
"Isn't working for two Departments enough?" JJ asked exasperatedly as they began to walk down the hall together.
"Your involvement with them will be minimal," the Secretary reassured. "Secretary Kalat and I are sharing you, and the other two only get to borrow you every once in a while. That's what you get for being good at your job."
JJ was torn between pouting and glaring. "That's cruel and unusual punishment, sir."
"Well at least you no longer have media liaising duties."
About the time JJ had started getting job offers from the Pentagon, the CIA had pegged Abbottabad, Pakistan as a location of interest, a potential hideout for Osama bin Laden. With things ramping up, the DOD wanted the best liaison they could get, and JJ was their person of choice.
When JJ started her work with the Pentagon, they had quickly determined that JJ's liaising would be strictly inter-departmental and inter-agency. In the scope of things, dealing with the press hardly measured up, and time with the media was time that could be spent on much more important matters.
Besides, there were plenty of other people eager to stand in front of the camera.
"Oh thank you, sir," JJ responded sarcastically.
"Jennifer, may we have a word?"
JJ looked up from the disaster zone known as her desk and caught sight of the Secretaries of State and Defense standing at her door.
"Am I in trouble?" she asked, her eyes bouncing back-and-forth between the two.
"Should you be?" Secretary Whishaw retorted as he shut the door behind him.
JJ thought back on the day's events and looked around her office. "I promise to clean my desk?"
Secretary Kalat settled into a chair and snickered, "Don't make promises you can't keep, darling."
"We actually have serious business to talk about." Secretary Whishaw lowered himself into the remaining chair.
Leaning forward on her desk with fingers clasped in front of her, JJ said, "I'm all ears."
"We're getting close to confirming bin Laden's location…" the Defense Secretary began.
"I'm aware," JJ noted.
"…but not as fast as we would like," he finished.
JJ's eyebrows furrowed, and she slightly wrinkled her nose. "Our teams, the Agency… We have them doing all that we can."
"Legally, yes," Secretary Kalat replied gently, knowing her words were of huge consequence.
JJ's eyes once again bounced back and forth between the two Secretaries.
"Ma'am?"
"Many of the Senate committees are impeding our efforts," the Secretary of State elaborated. "Now this checks and balances business our government has, I'm grateful we have it, truly. However, at moments like this, it can be a bit stifling."
"Stifling," JJ repeated blankly, her mind still trying to fully process what was being said to her.
"Yes, so we have a proposal," Secretary Whishaw picked up where Secretary Kalat left off. "We would like to create an asset of sorts: a team that operates outside of certain legalities. Under the radar, off the books, use whatever phrase you like. The mission statement of this team would be covert operations in intel collection, reconnaissance, you name it. The saying is 'knowledge is power,' and we're hoping that with additional resources we can both speed up the timeline and prevent casualties in the process."
Secretary Kalat caught JJ's eye. "And we'd like you to be the team's leader. As a well-versed liaison, you have the best vantage point, so to speak, of what needs to be accomplished, how it can be accomplished, and who's needed for it to be accomplished."
JJ stared at the two Secretaries sitting before her and carefully considered her response. "With all due respect, that sounds more than slightly preposterous. Not only that, I don't think I can be relied upon to operate a…"
"You've been operating a great deal more than you think, Jareau," Secretary Whishaw interrupted.
"We're merely extending our trust," Secretary Kalat said in her most reassuring voice. "It'll be your show to run. Our involvement will be minimal."
"'Absolute power corrupts absolutely,'" JJ quoted. "You're not worried I'll go power crazy? Have sudden aspirations of taking over the world?"
The Secretaries smiled at her hypotheticals.
"We have a feeling you'll keep yourself in check," Secretary Kalat answered.
JJ stared down at her hands. "May I take time to think about it?"
"Certainly."
A little more than a week later, JJ met with Secretary Whishaw in his office. "You have an answer for me?"
"One of my teams had a close call today," JJ answered obliquely.
"And the outcome?" the Secretary asked with genuine concern.
"No casualties."
The Secretary breathed a sigh of relief. "That's good."
"Though a few will need some time to recuperate."
"They can take all the time they need."
JJ nodded her thanks and carefully considered what to say next. "It made me think about your proposal, and I've come to a decision."
"Your team succeeded this time, they will continue to do so, and there is no need for use of such… sketchy methods?" Secretary Whishaw predicted.
"No," JJ contradicted simply.
"No?" the Secretary repeated in shock, though he was pleasantly surprised.
"My team survived by the skin of their teeth. It was a miracle, so to speak, that it wasn't worse than it was. I don't want to wait until I lose them…" JJ trailed off not wanting to think about the possibility. "I can't count on miracles that may or may not happen."
The Secretary nodded with understanding.
"You can have whoever and whatever you need." But before letting her go, he had one last thing to say, "I must emphasize discretion, however. If Senate finds out about this, the Executive Branch will claim ignorance and deniability."
"I understand."
"Colonel Daniel Worth," a man in his late 50s announced himself with a knock to JJ's open doorframe. "The Secretary told me to meet with you."
JJ got up from her chair to greet him with a handshake. "Jennifer Jareau."
She returned to her position behind her desk and gestured for him to have a seat.
"I know who you are," the Colonel said with a slight smile. "I was your brother's CO for a while. One Shot Wonder we called him, never needed more than a single bullet to down a target. How's your aim?"
JJ shrugged. "Decent."
"Hmph," Worth snorted. "Decent in terms of average humans or in terms of crazy Jareau standards?"
"They're not crazy," JJ disagreed.
The Colonel scoffed in disbelief. "Spoken like a true Jareau."
"Secretary Whishaw explained everything to you?" JJ asked, bluntly maneuvering away from the topic of her shooting capabilities.
The Secretary of Defense had insisted on assigning the second-in-command of her soon-to-be-formed "non-existent" team. He'd had someone in mind, someone he trusted without a doubt. Apparently that person was Colonel Worth.
"He did."
The petite blonde stared at him. "So you have no problem with me being your superior?"
Worth shook his head. "Not if you've got a good head on your shoulders like your brother. And all the scuttlebutt I've heard around here indicates you do. No problem here."
Satisfied, JJ settled back into her chair. "That's good to hear."
JJ made her way through NSA headquarters, stopping to knock at an open office. "Hey, Lena, are you busy?"
Looking up from her computer, the office's inhabitant smiled. "Only pretending to be. Come on in."
Settling into a chair, JJ hesitated before asking, "I was wondering if you'd be willing to do something for me."
"Anything," Lena responded immediately.
"You can say 'no'. You don't even know what I'm going to ask," JJ said, feeling awkward about her imminent request.
"You got me out of my Gitmo post, so – like I said – anything for you."
Lena was a civilian consultant who worked as a profiler for the DOD. She had previously been stationed at Guantanamo Bay detention camp, where she had been uneasy with her assignment of pushing boundaries she wasn't sure were meant to be pushed. After working with the profiler and getting to know her, JJ had managed to arrange for a transfer to the NSA.
JJ briefed her on the prospective unit and their mission; finishing with, "Consider it carefully. Don't say 'yes' just because I did you a favor once."
In spite of JJ's words, the other woman promptly replied, "Yes."
"Lena –"
"And it's not just because you did me that favor."
"If you're certain…"
"I am." Upon seeing the still hesitant expression on JJ's face, Lena quickly added, "And that answer is not going to change no matter how many times you ask, so stop."
"All right," JJ sighed. "Your first assignment is to help me with recruitment. I'll forward you a list of candidates, and I'd like you to pick out those you think would be most willing to participate."
"And from there?"
"You send the shortened list back to me, and I will make the final cuts. There are some additional criteria that I'd like to follow."
"Such as?"
JJ smiled wanly. "That's for me to know, and for you to never figure out. I prefer that everyone on this team have minimal contact with as well as have minimal knowledge about each other. Less chance of compromise. You work won't involve you coming in contact with anyone who ends up in the unit, so you seeing the candidate pool can be deemed acceptable."
Lena gazed pensively at JJ, finger tapping on the table.
"But why have me help with the trimming at all? You've worked with profilers for seven years. Surely you could do this all by yourself."
JJ conceded the point with a nod. There were, however, other factors involved. The most important being:
"But I don't have the time."
JJ's hands and eyes scrambled to find the right folders. She had just gotten out of a briefing and had ten minutes to find all her materials and get to the command center four levels up from her office.
She heard a knock at the door.
"Ma'am, do you have time for a consult?"
JJ didn't even bother looking up. "Fisher, do I look like I have the time?"
"No, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am," Fisher replied and immediately headed for the door.
At Fisher's overly apologetic tone, JJ stilled and, despite her better judgment, called him back.
"Fisher." When he turned back to face her, she smiled slightly. "You can have the nine minutes it takes for me to grab these files and get to the command center."
Her time in the command center had not gone well.
That is to say, the op she had been overseeing via satellite had not gone well.
JJ had been watching a reconnaissance mission. It had started off well enough, but something changed – she still wasn't sure what – and jerky footage and incoherent shouting ensued, followed by silence. Everyone in the command center stared at the screen, where only the dusty ground was visible. Someone off screen said something in Urdu (later vaguely translated to something about moving).
And the next thing JJ knew, the screen was nothing but snow.
Before she could plan any sort of rescue or recovery mission, she had to be certain of their new location. In order to find that out, she needed access to some fancy schmancy satellite that she didn't pretend to understand.
So here she was, standing miserably in Senator Clarke's office, asking for permission.
"It's a matter of balancing resources," the Senator said snootily. "Access to the satellite alone would cost…"
JJ interrupted him incredulously, "Are you putting a price tag on our personnel?"
Senator Clarke stared at her indifferently, unimpressed by her vehemence. "It has to be done."
"And what about you? What are you worth?" JJ asked, trying to make him see her point. "If you were the one missing out there, where would you want the money line drawn?"
"Warfare cannot be run on emotion and sentiment," Clarke responded, avoiding her questions entirely.
"Of that, I'm very well aware," JJ spat. And she was. She had worked with the executive branch long enough to be acutely in tune with that fact. "But you can't proceed to –"
"Can't proceed to what?" the Senator challenged. "As an influential member of the Senate Intelligence Committee, I can make the decision as I see fit, and I am. The final answer is no."
"Look," JJ refused to back down so easily. "If all you're concerned about is the budget, I've already spoken with –"
"No."
JJ shook her head slowly in angry disappointment and moved to leave.
She paused at the door. "I am asking you to reconsider."
"Or what?" Senator Clarke sneered. "You'll storm angrily into my office and barrage me with threats?"
"No, that's not my style," JJ responded evenly in a voice that was enviously ominous despite being soft. "But know that I will get them back."
JJ had never been so grateful for a last minute cancellation.
Ever since she did the quick consult for Fisher, she barely had a minute to herself. Nearly every second she wasn't in a meeting, briefing, or up in the command center was filled with people clamoring around her asking for advice: "I only need a minute, Agent Jareau…" to be finished with "what's the best way to get through to…?" or "how's the best way to phrase…?" or "who can I contact to get … done?"
Lunch breaks were her safe haven. She'd be sure to disappear from her office and head somewhere quiet and peaceful, a small reprieve in a day filled with busy cacophony.
Unfortunately, those were only one per day, and she'd already gone on hers.
Shoulders slumped and forehead on her desk, JJ groaned at the thought of her schedule for the next day.
The International Criminal Court had decided to make some changes to the way its recently established task force dealt with – in their words – "prosecuting crimes of sexual violence in areas of conflict." With a few US attorneys involved in the task force and new extradition procedures under consideration, JJ had to liaise between the Departments of State and Justice along with their international counterparts. That meant a whole day of bureaucrats, lawyers, and international delegates.
"What a joy," she thought to herself sarcastically.
It also meant spending the rest of the day reading up on a lot of material, so she could spend the next day making sense of and to every party involved.
Learning languages from Emily sounded useful right about now, but she didn't have the time. Finding the time to train with Morgan was difficult enough. JJ couldn't imagine fitting more into her already hectic schedule. She'd just have to continue learning on the job.
JJ heard her phone ring.
Forehead still on her desk, she blindly reached out for her phone. After a few errant grabs (she almost put the computer mouse to her ear before realizing the object she was reaching for shouldn't have curvature), she finally succeeded in getting her phone.
Assuming whoever was calling wanted to fill her suddenly free time with another consult, she spat harshly into the phone, "Whatever you want, the answer is no."
"Oh sorry," a delightfully familiar voice replied.
JJ's head snapped up.
"Hotch! Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry. I thought you were someone calling for advice or a consult. How are you?" JJ said in rapid succession. She had never been so glad to hear his voice.
There was a slight pause.
"Feeling slightly awkward."
"What happened?" JJ asked immediately.
"Well I am calling for some help." Hotch quickly followed that up with, "But if you're busy or stressed…"
"Never too busy for you, Hotch," JJ responded without hesitation. "What do you need?"
"I just briefed a multi-agency task force on Ian Doyle."
JJ racked her brain. The name sounded familiar… "The former IRA escapee from the North Korean prison?"
"Yes," Hotch confirmed. "We don't exactly handle terrorists on a daily basis, so I was wondering if you could –"
"I'll be there as soon as I can."
Though he would have liked nothing more than to see her, simply getting the information he needed via fax or e-mail was sufficient. He felt especially guilty having heard the exhaustion in her voice. "JJ, you don't have to."
"I want to," she insisted.
Perhaps he heard the homesickness in her voice because he didn't argue. "I'll see you soon then?"
"Count on it."
JJ made her way through the Pentagon to the Defense Secretary's office.
"Sir, could I ask a favor?"
"Depends," Secretary Whishaw responded, not bothering to look up from the documents he was reviewing. "What is it?"
"The BAU has asked for help. They're pursuing Ian Doyle, and –"
The Secretary looked up suddenly. "Of course you can go."
"What?" JJ couldn't believe it was that easy.
"I'd imagine this is a very hard time for Agent Prentiss and as a result for the team as well."
JJ gazed at him quizzically. "What does Emily have to do with this?"
"You don't know…" the Secretary said slowly. "Then I assume the BAU doesn't either."
"Don't know what?"
The Secretary sighed. "Agent Prentiss was a part of JTF-12. She was the team's undercover for the Doyle case."
JJ's jaw slackened.
She'd heard about JTF-12 and their methods. No wonder Prentiss hadn't been bothered by the cases when she arrived at the BAU…
"'Maybe I compartmentalize better than most people' my ass," JJ thought to herself. Then aloud to the Secretary, "Why wasn't I informed upon Doyle's escape?"
"You were busy with other duties. I didn't want you to be emotionally compromised when you didn't need to be. You weren't handling anything Doyle-related."
JJ couldn't have been gladder she'd insisted on heading to Quantico to Hotch.
"I'll call Langley," Secretary Whishaw said, seeing the stunned look remain on JJ's face. "They should be ready to brief you when you arrive."
"Thank you, sir." She was about to head out when something occurred to her. "Oh, sir, one more thing…"
"Yes?" the Secretary asked, his eyes had already resumed their position on the papers in front of him.
"Could you call Secretary Kalat to let her know I can't come in tomorrow?"
"Wait…" Secretary Whishaw's eyebrows furrowed in thought. "You're supposed to be helping her tomorrow."
"Yeah…"
"Nuh uh," the Secretary responded with a firm shake of the head. "You call her."
"Sir…" JJ protested.
"I let her have you all day tomorrow because she desperately needs you. I'm not going to be the one to disappoint her."
"But sir, you're the one who said I could go." JJ's big blue eyes blinked down at him. "Please?"
He glared at her before finally huffing, "Fine. Get out of here. I'll call her."
"Thank you, sir!"
JJ bolted out the door before he could change his mind.
"You've put together an impressive team," Secretary Whishaw said.
He was sitting at his desk with Secretary Kalat standing beside him. JJ sat on the other side, facing the two Secretaries and feeling very much like a child in front of her parents.
The news of Osama bin Laden's death had just been released to the public. All the recognition and glory had gone to JSOC (Joint Special Operations Command), and JJ was perfectly fine with that. So was the rest of her team.
Not one to easily accept praise, JJ responded, "All thanks to you."
Secretary Kalat shook her head. "Our idea, your creation."
"When you started with the Pentagon, you told me you wanted back to the BAU when you were done with your assignment." JJ nodded in acknowledgement, and Secretary Whishaw continued, "Does that still hold true?"
"Yes," JJ replied simply.
"You're certain you want to leave?" Secretary Kalat asked. It wasn't just that she didn't want to lose an asset. She had come to appreciate JJ for the person that she was and enjoyed having her around.
"Well, my job here is done, and the BAU needs me."
JJ had recently begun talks with Rossi about returning to the unit. She would've met with Hotch, but she knew he was already burdened with budget meetings and a potential assignment to an investigative taskforce in Pakistan.
"I think it can also be said that we still need you," Secretary Whishaw said. "And you seem to have found a place for yourself here."
"I don't regret my time here," JJ admitted, though when she first started she never would've thought that would be the case. "However, I belong there."
Secretary Kalat began, "If you ever change your mind…"
"You'll be the first to know," JJ finished. "I'll finish out the month here, and I promise I'll take that time to consider."
There was, after all, a chance that she wouldn't be able to get back onto the BAU team. Who knew what hurdles the higher-ups could throw her way…
"Very well," Secretary Whishaw nodded.
JJ asked, "And the team… it will still be active?"
"Yes," Secretary Kalat confirmed. "Though less utilized, I would think."
"As long as the war on terror continues, there'll always be a place for this team. And as per your recommendation, Colonel Worth will be taking over," Secretary Whishaw added.
JJ nodded her approval. "Well at least they'll be in good hands."
"Hi there," JJ said, walking into the familiar hangar.
"Hello, hello," C greeted.
"It's good to see you," D wrapped her in a tight hug, which JJ gladly reciprocated. G hugged her next, while N merely waved.
Unlike JJ before him, C didn't have the sort of job that allowed him to be involved in a little bit of everything. As a result, op prep had become a more collaborative effort.
"Good to see you all too." JJ glanced around at the others. "But you didn't call me away from the BAU for a love fest, so what can I do for you?"
"Weston Art Gallery owns a warehouse in Lorton , Virginia…" G began, but JJ cut him off.
"Just tell me what you need me for. I don't need the whole backstory."
C briefed her quickly on the partial schematics hidden within a random art piece to be auctioned off within the week.
"There's supposed to be a clue word in the auctioneer's introduction of the piece that indicates it's the one," he concluded.
JJ looked to G. "The CIA has approved funds for obtaining things like this before. Why not this time?"
"Not enough returns per dollar," G answered. "Since the schematic sections are spread out among different owners, there's no urgency for the Agency to do anything about it. Not until… say, someone has a large majority of them."
"And we don't think it's prudent to wait 'til that happens," D quickly added on.
"You said Costanzo is the seller?" JJ asked for verification.
C nodded, "That's why we need you."
"Ok, get me a manifest, and I should be able to recognize an alias and what piece you should target in the warehouse."
"What are we going to do with it when we get it?" N asked.
"We slip it to the CIA," JJ responded promptly. "We can have I digitize, encrypt, and then insert it into one of the recent retrievals that's currently undergoing analysis. And as far as the Agency's concerned, they've had it for the past couple days. They just didn't know it."
"And the painting?" G asked.
"Keep it intact. If you do your jobs correctly, no one will realize it's been tampered with until the auction winner gets his or her prize."
"Cool," N grinned.
"F was supposed to come with us to the warehouse, but the NSA got a massive influx of chatter. She's swamped and can't join us, so… maybe you could fill in?" D suggested. "I mean… you're here helping us anyways."
JJ glanced at C who nodded with approval. Her eyes moved back to D, then to N and finally G.
She exhaled shortly, lips quirking up into a smile, and shook her head.
"The things I do for you guys."
Another Author's Note (let me know if you lot are getting tired of them): You may have noticed that I futzed with the Valhalla/Lauren timeline a little bit. The writers never said when Hotch called JJ, so you get my version of what happened. I did my best to make it realistic, logical, and canon compliant (e.g. Hotch had to call JJ more than an hour before her arrival because the drive itself from the Pentagon or Harry S. Truman Building to Langley and then to Quantico is approximately that duration).
Although now that I think about it (though it's irrelevant to this chapter)… What was the point of having JJ make a dramatic entrance to say "Let's get to work" at night if she wasn't going to brief them until the morning? Je suis confus.
I'd highly recommend ignoring me sometimes. There's a lot of useless thinking going on in here. *taps side of head*
Actually, speaking of ignoring me, I'm starting a wizardofahz tumblr, so my A/N's should be getting shorter as I'll just ramble over there. Tata.
Thanks for reading!