"Anyone can give up, it's the easiest thing in the world to do. But to hold it together when everyone else would understand if you fell apart, that's true strength."
- Unknown

*****

Back at the Bureau, Reid was still pondering over the significance of the word 'sinners'. It frustrated him to no end that, after all those hours of thinking, he was still exactly where he started. He still had nothing but a question. Huffing quietly, he reached for his coffee mug only to find that Rossi had taken it away from him.

"You've had ten cups of coffee in less than two hours," Rossi said, "I know we practically live on caffeine, but keep drinking like that and you'll be in trouble."

"But I need coffee," Reid replied.

"No. What you need is to stop blaming yourself for Morgan's kidnapping."

Reid looked down at his hands. "But it was my fault. If I hadn't insisted that he interview the witness first, it wouldn't have happened."

"Reid, we already know the unsub has a type," Rossi stated, "He was gunning for Morgan. There was nothing you could do then to keep him safe." Reid didn't say anything, so Rossi continued, "Why don't you go take a breather? Some fresh air may do you good."

Reid nodded and, as he slowly made his way out of the room, he ran into Hotch who was just hanging up the phone. "That was Prentiss," he informed, "She won't be back for awhile yet, Mrs. Morgan wanted to stop by a church to pray for Morgan."

Reid froze mid-step. "Where did you say Emily was stopping?"

"A church," Hotch repeated, "Why?"

Reid said nothing, a look of realization crossing his face. "Why didn't I think of that?" He sprinted back into the conference room, looking determined. "Garcia, can you find out the religious denomination of the other victims? The churches they frequented?"

"I can get you anything you need," she replied, not sure what was going on, but sure that it must be important.

"Reid, what's going on?" Hotch repeated.

"Burial is rife with religious significance," he began explaining, "Funerary rights, prayers, etcetera... In 286, common era, Saint Castulus was buried alive as punishment for sheltering Christians... 'Let this be a lesson to all the sinners'..."

"Reid," Hotch interrupted, "We don't have time!"

"Right," he reined himself in, "We all know that Morgan's struggled with his faith... What if the unsub is on a mission to eliminate those who he feels have committed cardinal sins by straying from their faith in God..."

"If that's true, then we're in serious trouble," Rossi said darkly, "Mission-based killers are almost impossible to stop..."

"Speaking of serious trouble," JJ said sprinting into the room, "Our twelve hours are almost up..."

******

"I've got the money," Ambassador Prentiss said, slightly out of breath, as she set a briefcase down on Emily's desk, "I'm sorry I'm cutting it so close to the deadline."

"Don't be," Emily said wearily, "The only thing that matters is that you got the money and that we're going to get Morgan back." It was clear from her voice, the tired way she spoke, that she was being pushed to the limits by this case.

Not that her mother could blame her. She had to be going through hell. Then, she did something that she had never really remembered to do while her daughter was younger, she pulled her into a hug and quietly comforted her, "This isn't your fault, you're doing everything you can. You're going to get him back."

Emily felt herself start to well up at the sentiment from such a foreign source. "Thanks Mom," she whispered, turning away to quickly dry her tears before anyone could see.

Just then, JJ came dashing over. "I hope you have the money, because our time just ran out..." And, as if to punctuate the statement, just then, the phone rang.

******

They were all barely breathing as they leaned close to the phone, listening to the unsub speak, through what was obviously a voice distorter. Garcia's fingers were a blur as the tapped across her keyboard, working at lightning speed to attempt to trace the call.

"You hand over the money, then, twenty minutes later, you will receive a phone call that will tell you the GPS coordinates of where Agent Derek Morgan is buried."

"How do we know that once you have the money, you'll hold up your end of the bargain?" Hotch asked, attempting to keep him on the line for as long as possible to give them the best possible chance of tracking his location.

"Because I'm not a liar," he hissed dangerously, "Make the drop in one hour at Quantico National Cemetery. Leave the money by the Purple Heart Memorial, then walk away."

"We'll..." Hotch started to say, but was quickly cut off.

"No," he said with barely contained anger, "Not 'we'. Just her. His girlfriend makes the drop. No one else. She comes alone; I see anyone else and you'll never see Agent Morgan alive again." He paused to let the implications of his statement sink in, then continued, "Be there in one hour or don't bother showing up."

Then, he hung up.

Everyone turned to look at each other, confused. Emily's eyes were wide with disbelief; they had been so careful to keep it a secret and they had just been outed by the unsub... Just when she began thinking things couldn't possibly get worse, they did.