Friday, November 3, 2011, 10:43 a.m.

Lauren Reynolds paces in the living room of Ian Doyle's Irish manor house. She studies the portraits on the wall and sneers.

"You're not his family," she mutters. "Bastard just wants people to think he's somebody."

For the first time since she'd gone undercover, Emily Prentiss surfaces, remembering summer days spent on her grandfather's vineyard in France. Paintings such as these decorate the Dupois home but they are her ancestors; her tie to the world; her link to a life given up for her job.

"Hi."

Emily spins around, the persona of Lauren slipping back into place. She stares at a young boy with curly blonde hair. He's smiling at her.

"Uh, hi, kid. Who are you?"

"Wanna play?"

Lauren raises an eyebrow. "Um, play? Play what?"

The little boy shrugs. "Donnae know. Snakes and Ladders?"

"Uh, I am, uh, sort of waiting for…"

"For Mr. Doyle?"

Lauren nods. "Yeah, him. Who are you?"

"Declan! There ye are!" A harried woman rushes into the room. "Pardon us, Miss. Declan, ye need ta be doing yer lessons no' annoying Mr. Doyle's guest."

Lauren forces a smile to her face. "He's not annoying me. He's your son?"

"Aye, he is. He jus' fergets 'tis time fer lessons no' fer play. Come along now, Declan."

"Maybe she'll play with me later, Mummy?"

The woman looks apologetically at Emily. Emily, however, is fixated on the child. Why in the world would this child find her at all appealing?

"Um, I, uh, don't know, kid. Just have, uh, business here." She glances at the boy's mother. "I'm, um, not real experienced with kids."

The woman smiles. "I can tell, Miss. He'll no trouble ye again."

The woman takes the boy by the hand and leads him out of the room. Emily watches them go. He suddenly pauses and turns back toward her. He smiles and waves. Emily surprises herself by waving back.

"Focus, Lauren. Forget the maid's kid and concentrate on your target," she coaches herself.

"Glad to see ye made it."

Lauren spins around and gives Ian Doyle a calculated smile. "Worried I'd leave you in the wind?"

"No. I know yer reputation. Yer word is good. If it wasn't, I'd have killed ye in Boston."

Lauren gives a half-grin. "You could have tried."

Doyle studies her a moment. He gestures towards the hallway with his head. "Ye like kids?"

"Only in pictures," she jokes.

"Ah. Well, Louise will keep him out of yer hair while yer here."

Lauren raises an eyebrow. "Oh? And how long will I be here?"

Two of Ian's men walk into the room. One has a gun drawn. Inside, Lauren's stomach does a flip. Outwardly, she gives no sign of distress.

"Sorry, boys, I'm not into gangbangs," she says dryly.

Ian gives her a crooked smile. "Yer word is good. Yer reputation, so far, has seemed deserved. But ye'll be my…guest…until I finish checking ye out."

Lauren chuckles. "No, Mr. Doyle, I won't."

The two men move closer to her. She flicks her wrists and two guns fly out of her sleeves into her hands. She holds the men at gunpoint. Ian chuckles.

"Brave. Or stupid, I'm no' sure which."

She slowly brings one gun around…and points it at Ian's crotch. She grins. "Feeling lucky? Take a guess." She slowly cocks the gun pointed at his family jewels. "Better yet, let me explain: I am no man's prisoner."

Ian stares at her a moment then starts to laugh. "I think I'm going ta like ye, Lauren." He looks at his men. "Get out."

"But, Ian," Liam starts.

"Go, Liam. Lauren and I need ta talk business."

Lauren's guns don't waver as the men make their way out of the room. Ian walks over to the mini bar in the room and pours a couple fingers of Scotch. He turns and offers her a glass.

"Scotch?"

"I'd prefer wine," Lauren says as she returns her guns to their spring holsters.

Ian nods and reaches for a bottle opener. "Red or white?"

"Surprise me."

Ian grins. "Aye, I guess it's my turn fer tha surprise."

Lauren nods and moves towards the bar. He offers her a glass of merlot. She tilts her head to the side.

"After you. I insist."

Ian smiles knowingly and takes a sip. Lauren watches him a moment before accepting the wine from him. He holds up his glass towards hers.

"To tha beginning of a…fruitful relationship."

Emily grins. "To money. And…maybe more," she adds flirtatiously as she clinks her glass against his and drinks.

"EMILY!"

Emily jumps and sees a very scared Penelope Garcia staring in the mirror at her. Emily quickly shuts off the water and reaches for a paper towel. Garcia just studies her, letting her calm a bit before pressing her.

"Emily, where were you? What had you looking so sad?"

Emily turns around and leans back against the wall. "I was…remembering the first time I ever saw Declan. I wasn't expecting Ian to have a child so those…those blue eyes never registered with me. They were just like Ian's. But I was so intent on proving myself his equal in business and in love that…that I just didn't see Declan for what he was…for who he was."

"Of course you didn't, honey," Garcia says, laying a hand on her friend's arm.

Emily smiles. "He asked me to play with him. He wanted to play Snakes and Ladders. He wasn't scared of me or intimidated by me. He just…wanted to play."

Garcia smiles. "Maybe even then he knew he could trust you."

"Maybe. Or maybe he just really needed a friend."

Garcia nudges her. "And he got something even better than a friend."

Emily nods. "I guess so."

"Hey, now, I know so. You gave him a father who loves him and respects him and wants to keep him safe. And you've given him two mom's that are going to work with his aunt and uncles to bring him home safely to that father."

"God, Pen, what if we don't? What if we fail him and Tom both?"

"Won't happen, Emily. Come on, you need to see what we've found."

"A lead?"

"Four, actually. We need your help to narrow it down."

Emily stands up straight and nods. "Right. Let's do it."

"And, Emily, thanks for not pushing us away," Garcia says, pulling her into a hug.

"Well, fuck, Garcia, I've tried pushing you all away before. Doesn't work so why waste the energy?" Emily points out with a grin.

Garcia loops her arm into Emily's and leads her out. "Damn right, Emster. About time you learned."

As they walk into the round table room, Emily looks at Hotch. "What have you got?"

"Four possible allies helping Donaghy out of the country. The first is Lachlan McDermott. His family has an import/export business and uses a private airstrip in Maryland. They also have a couple of warehouses that would be perfect for holding a kidnap victim."

Emily slowly shakes her head. "Ian killed his brother and I don't see Chloe going to him for help. Not if she really wants Declan back. Lachlan would kill Declan to end the bloodline."

Hotch nods and flips to the next screen on the computer. "Choice 2 is a Frenchman named- -"

"Jacques Scirroco," Emily mutters. She starts to pace, running through her memories of the man. "What's his escape option?"

"He works with a man that has a dockside warehouse. DEA has had it flagged as probably bringing heroin into the U.S. but they haven't been able to catch them in the act."

"Where's the warehouse?"

"Baltimore."

Emily studies the face of the man on the computer screen. The last time she had seen him he was bleeding from the scar that now mars his face; a wound she had given him with a ceramic knife. When Morgan touches her arm she flinches.

"Hey, easy, Princess. What's going on in the brunette covered dome of yours?"

Emily takes a deep breath. "He and Lauren…fought. He double-crossed her and sold a shipment of weapons out from under her to, of all people, Ian Doyle. She had to show him that no one crosses her. She found out later it was a test by Ian to see what she was capable of. He'd started to suspect she was a cop but the…the beating she gave Scirroco convinced him she was as psychotic as he was."

"You gave him that scar?" Rossi asks.

"Yes, I did. And if he knows I'm Lauren, he's the one helping. If he doesn't, I can't imagine him putting his neck on the line for Chloe."

Hotch looks at Garcia. "Call Jordan and see what she knows."

"Will do. Maybe I can call the DEA, too?"

He nods. "Do it." He looks back to Emily as Garcia starts to type. "And third in the line is Sirhan Saberri. He is- -"

"Saberri is dead," Emily states.

Hotch frowns. "What? Are you sure?"

Emily nods. "I'm sure." She stares her boss in the eyes. "Lauren killed him when he set up an ambush of Ian Doyle. He couldn't avenge himself so he asked her to do it. Easter gave me the go and swore it would be faked. Just another time that fucking bastard lied."

"Why don't the databases know he's dead?" JJ asks.

"Because Easter took care of the body. I have a feeling he used the legend of Saberri to explain away a lot of things that were done by me and other operatives. If his name is still active, it's still being used by Interpol. But they wouldn't condone actions in the U.S. on his behalf. Especially not kidnapping."

"So you're saying the Saberri in the underworld is now really just a…an operative like you were?" Reid says incredulously.

Emily nods. "Yes. Look, you all know the Lauren Reynolds name was established before I took it over. I don't know it for sure but I'd bet money she really existed and was…taken out of the game so someone else could step into her shoes. There's no way I could have had the ins, had the reputation, without face to face meetings."

"And if you ran into anyone that knew the real Lauren Reynolds you'd have been killed!" JJ says in horror.

"Yes. But there was slim chance of that. You can imagine why," Emily states emotionlessly.

Reid just shakes his head. "And this was all…condoned by our government."

Emily glares at him. "Yes, it was. And if you think things like that haven't been going on for years you're seriously deluded. We can't know the things we know, can't stop the things we do, without breaking a few laws along the way."

Reid studies his hands a moment. "I'm not sure I can accept that."

"Accept it or not, it's the truth, Reid. And it's why if you ever even considered joining a task force with Interpol I would have to shoot your kneecaps off," she tells him.

He slowly looks up and grins. "Gee. Thanks."

"Okay, so option 4," Hotch says to alleviate the tension. "Bernadette Kizorsky."

Everyone notices the softening of Emily's face. JJ can't help but chuckle.

"You were a couple," the blonde states.

Emily slowly nods. "Yes, we were. I used her for 3 months to get to the man just below Marcos San Mejia. I felt bad the way I ended things with her but the goal was Valhalla."

"How did you end things?" Morgan asks.

"Lauren needed to make the deal that would get her to San Mejia. Bernadette had the weapons Lauren needed. So, I stole what I needed from her and blew up the rest. Made sure there was enough incriminating items left in the rubble to get her sent to Turkey to stand for a few crimes over there." She takes a deep breath. "So, yeah, if she knows I'm Lauren she'd be willing to help Chloe. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if Chloe wasn't planning to kill me but rather use me as payment to Bernadette."

JJ runs both hands through her hair. "Son of a bitch. How can you talk about all this so…so…fuck, Em…"

Emily nods. "Yeah, that about says it all. It's like looking at another life, another unsub. Lauren was so different than me it's easy to forget she was me." She takes a deep breath. "So how would Bernadette get Declan and Donaghy out of here?"

"She owns a large estate in Florida. It has its own airstrip."

Emily thinks a minute then shakes her head. "Too far away. Jacques Scirroco…he's the best bet. She has Declan and doesn't want to be in the States any longer than necessary. She'll draw me to Baltimore to kill me. I'm not payment to anyone. I am hers to take out." She turns and looks JJ in the eye. "And she'll want Dec to watch it."

"No. Fucking. Way," JJ states definitively.

Emily smiles and nods. "And that's why I'm damn glad to have this team at my back. I know it won't happen."

Hotch looks at Morgan. "Get aerials and anything you can on the warehouse. We need to know every entry point. We'll be 5-10 minutes behind Emily and there can be no searching for doors or windows to get in. We'll know how we're getting in and getting her and Declan out. Understood?"

"On it, Hotch." He looks at Reid. "Reid, give me a hand. We'll need a geo-profile of the area to make sure we set it up right."

Reid stands and nods. "Let's go."

As the two agents walk out, Emily glances at Hotch. "I need…to breathe a second."

He nods and she walks out. She goes to her desk and sits down, staring at the electronic picture frame scrolling through images of her friends and family. It takes her a second to register that there is a small package on her desk. She starts to reach for it but stops.

"Holy shit." She grabs her phone and calls the conference room. "Hotch, I have a package here. Return address is a front I used as Lauren Reynolds."

"It's from Chloe. Call the mailroom and find out what showed up on the x-ray."

Emily nods and makes the call as JJ, Rossi and Hotch storm out of the conference room to find out what has been sent to their teammate.

Declan squeezes his eyes closed as the light is turned on the door to his cell is opened. He hears feet walking towards him and hopes it's just his lunch being delivered. But no such luck. He is grabbed and jerked to his feet.

"Open yer eyes, Declan," Chloe orders.

Declan takes a deep breath and forces his eyes open, squinting until they adjust to the brightness. Chloe stares into his eyes.

"Wha' was lesson one?"

Declan swallows, "To…to never raise a hand to you."

"Good boy," she replies with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "Now 'tis time ta learn lesson two." She steps back, studying her son a moment. She then looks to the man standing beside Declan. "Go."

The man grins…and punches Declan in the stomach. The boy grunts and drops to his knees, gasping for breath.

"Lesson two…learn ta take a punch. We're in a rough business, Declan. Ye'll need ta toughen up if'n ye want ta survive."

Declan slowly regains his breath. He lifts his eyes, staring at the woman through his hair. "I'm not…in your…business."

"But ye will be." She looks at her man. "Stand him up." The man drags Declan to his feet. "Ready, son."

"I'm NOT your SON!" Declan says fiercely.

Chloe steps to him and grabs him by the front of the shirt. "Ye ARE my boy. And ye'll learn yer place soon enough." She shoves him backwards and looks at her lackey. "Again."

The man goes to punch Declan again. But now Dec is ready for it. He's a good athlete and between football and lacrosse he's learned a few things. He sidesteps the punch and throws a punch himself, catching the man in the mouth. Chloe laughs.

"Good boy! There may be hope fer ye yet, Declan."

"Bloody arsehole!" the man yells and starts towards Declan again.

Declan throws his hands up in front of him in a boxer's stance. Inside he is terrified. The man grins evilly.

"Oh, so now ye think yer a fighter. We'll see."

He fakes a punch and Declan tries to block it. This leaves his face open and the follow up punch hits his chin and mouth. He drops to the ground, his hand covering his now bleeding lip.

"Get up, little bastard. Get up and see if'n ye can hit me again," the man taunts.

"Enough, Carrick," Chloe says and the man steps back from Declan.

Chloe squats down in front of her son. She reaches out a hand and brushes the hair from his forehead. "Remember tha taste of tha blood, Declan. Remember tha pain. And dream of tha day ye make others taste and feel tha same."

Declan wants to scream "no" at her but is scared of what will happen if he does. She grins and stands.

"Get up, boy," she commands.

Declan slowly climbs to his feet.

"Hit me," she says.

Declan frowns. He knows it's a trick. If he doesn't listen, he'll be punished for disobeying. If he hits her he'll have broken the rules. He slowly shakes his head.

"I can't win," he whispers.

She raises an eyebrow. "Yer right. So ye have ta make a choice. Which thing will get ye punished worse: hitting me or no' hitting me?"

Declan stares at her. He thinks a moment before he answers. "My dad taught me never to hit a woman. Even if she deserves it."

The amusement in Chloe's eyes fades, leaving only the anger. She backhands Declan and he stumbles back a few steps.

"That bastard was NOT yer father! Your father was a killer, a warrior, as ye will be."

Declan lets his anger override his fear. "NO! Ian Doyle wanted to possess me! He wasn't a father! Tom Colter is my father! He's my Dad! He loves me and he is NOT dead! You're just a lying BITCH!"

If looks could kill, Declan would be gone. Chloe glances at Carrick. "Two more."

Carrick smiles with psychotic glee. He stomps forward and grabs Declan by the shoulder to steady him as he punches him twice more in the stomach. When he lets go, Declan falls to the ground. Chloe squats down in front of Declan.

"Ye've sealed her fate, Declan." Declan slowly looks up. "Emily fucking Prentiss will die a slow, painful death. She'll beg ta die, she'll beg ta spare ye having ta watch, but yer words just now guaranteed she'll get no mercy from me." She grabs him by the chin. "Lesson 3…ye donnae ever raise yer voice ta me. And Lesson 4, ye donnae cuss me."

She let him go and stands. "Let's go," she says to Carrick.

The man spits at Declan then follows her out of the room. Declan crawls over to the bed and up onto it.

"I'm sorry, Emily. So sorry. Please forgive me," he whimpers before finally passing out once more.