A/N: To my super sharp readers that pointed out that Morgan got missed in the convo with kids, I'd like to say that big, bad Derek didn't need a personal shout out and just enjoyed seeing the kids. Or like my Dutch Delight commented, "you ran out of kids". But that's a copout. I plain missed that one. My sincerest apologies to the Morgan fans; I promise I'll make up for this blunder.
Chapter 10
FBI SWAT Captain Donald Morrison and his Lieutenant Scott Lawson noticed the three walk in the doors with extra-large cups of coffee in their hands; their go bags hanging from their shoulders. "Oh good," Lawson said with his drawl, rolling his eyes, "the profilers are here."
Morrison shook his head. "I don't know about you Scott, but they found the connection before anyone else did and used their skills to get a huge lead. And they helped get that sniper idiot last fall. I'm gonna cut them some slack," he drawled back, walking up to the three.
He stuck out his hand to Matt, who shook it, making the introductions. Lawson joined them. "We've done our homework but I just want to double-check with y'all. There's no possible chance of poison in the air."
Matt shook his head. "From Compound 1080, no; that is only ingested orally. From other possible ones, we can't tell you that for certain. All we know is that Baxter is a brilliant chemist who's also a psychopath."
"That knows we're here," Prentiss added.
"So y'all are saying that we should wear gas masks just in case," Lawson said.
"It's not our call," Morgan said. "But that's how'd we play it. The decision is yours."
"Better safe than sorry Agent," Morrison said, looking at Matt, knowing his background.
"I'm Matt and I don't like losing my people on my watch. Besides, the Bureau paperwork is a bitch."
"I hear that," Morrison smiled. "I'm Donnie. Come on into the briefing room; we're just about ready to start." The agents followed him in, with Lawson shaking Morgan and Prentiss' hands.
-00CM00—
At ten minutes after six, Matt felt his cell vibrate in his T-shirt pocket. He pulled it out, looking at the caller ID.
"Taylor."
"Matt, its Hotch. Give me an update."
"I'm with SWAT Captain Morrison; we're Assault Team One, hitting the farm complex with the largest group to conduct our search. Texas State Police and Rangers are backing us. Morgan and Prentiss are with Lieutenant Lawson with Assault Team Two with six other SWAT agents. They've got Baxter's house. Morgan and Lawson are working together. Both teams are taking Level One precautions including gas masks and protective skin clothing. We'll both be pulling up a couple blocks away in a quiet place to suit up. The SWAT agents have produced a solid plan. Each team has a member with a hazmat reader for any airborne poisons. It will be a simultaneous raid, hitting both places at 6:30."
Agent Brock silently walked in with a box of pastries in one hand and her coffee cup in another. Setting the box down, she was followed by another agent that brought in a small stack of paper plates and napkins. He set them down and left. JJ smiled at him while pacing. Reid and Blake tried to occupy themselves going over Baxter's thesis more.
"It's a sound plan Matt; run with it," Cruz said.
"Roger that sir."
"Stay safe Matt. All of you; check in with me when you're done."
"Roger that Hotch." The cell phone connection clicked off.
Dave looked at his watch, took a sip of his coffee and rocked in his chair. "I hate sitting on my ass and waiting." He wasn't the only person in the room feeling that sentiment.
-00CM00-
The teams hit precisely at the appointed time. It took Assault Team Two less than ten minutes to entirely clear Baxter's home. The agent with the hazmat reader gave all of them a fist up and then a perpendicular arm move for an all clear. Emily tugged off her gas mask. "Thank God."
Morgan, doing the same, along with his hazmat gloves, pulled his cell out. "Hotch, its Morgan. We're clear at Baxter's house. He isn't here."
"Morgan, you and Prentiss know what to do."
"Tear the place apart; we're all over it Hotch."
Dave rose out of his chair, grabbed a plate and opened the box. He selected one and shoved the pastry at Hotch. "You eat or none of us do." Hotch relented and they all sat down, waiting to hear from Team One.
Team One moved like a methodical machine. Matt was highly impressed with the group and their professionalism. This is a solid unit he smiled to himself as he and Morrison hit an out building on the property. They made a quick sweep, with each doing the same all clear signal as Team Two. With the protective clothing and gas masks, they all relied on hand signals. The two headed out of the building. Each two person squad hitting the buildings on the farm site emerged as well, except for one. Matt raced to the building, with Morrison following him. A Ranger on guard at the door nodded for the two of them to enter. They quickly caught up to the search team as the hazmat agent gave the all clear. Matt pulled off his gas mask and looked around. "Oh holy fuckin' shit." He looked at Morrison pulling off his gas mask. "You have a team with video cams?" Morrison nodded. "Get them in here now."
Matt walked out of the building to hear the teams calling all clear. He pulled his hazmat hood, gloves and jacket off, tossing them on the ground, with his Kevlar next. He let the cool morning Texas air take away the singeing warmth, using his sweat soaked t-shirt to help. He pulled out his cell. "Hotch, its Matt. We're clear and Baxter isn't here." Everyone in the conference room breathed a sigh of relief. A Texas Ranger walked up, handing him a bottle of water. Matt smiled his thanks, taking a huge drink.
"Hotch, you can't believe the lab we just found. It looks like a playground of Reid's wildest dreams. They're taking video now. We'll get it to you ASAP. What about Morgan and Prentiss?"
"The house is clear; Baxter wasn't there. We know he's playing with us. They're tearing the place apart for clues as we speak."
"Hotch," Matt asked, taking another huge gulp of water. "How much do you really trust my gut?"
"Matt?"
"I do Matt," Rossi piped up. "Talk to me."
"Dave, call Chuck and Angie and get your asses to Dallas."
"Roger that Colonel," the former Marine said.
Within three hours, the BAU's stalwart pilots got the jet back to Oklahoma City; the team loaded on and was making their approach again into the Dallas area. Cruz looked at Hotch with a small smile as they buckled up together for landing. "Good thing I'm along Hotch; otherwise approving all this flying time would be a bitch with the brass."
Dave, sharing the four top of seats with the two of them, smiled at Cruz with his usual finger point.
-00CM00-
SAC Hollins looked at the group as they entered the door. "Good to have you back," he smiled, shaking Hotch's hand. "You know you've got the run of the place. Tanya's staff has y'all set up in the same conference room." Agent Tanya Mays smiled at the group with a wave from her office while on her phone. JJ smiled back at her as Hotch introduced Cruz to Hollins.
They all walked in to see Matt, freshly showered, going over his Tablet with Morgan and Prentiss doing the same. "Dive in folks," he said, without his usual smile. The team on the plane had begun to receive some of the data the two had recovered from Baxter's home as well as the video from the lab at the farm.
Reid looked at Matt, dropping his ever present brown leather book bag into a chair. "You're right Cob; I could go nuts in there."
Matt handed him hard copies of the research notes they had recovered at the scene. "Sorry Doc," he smiled. "I know you like it all digitized." The rest of the team snickered as they dove in.
Hotch shook Matt's hand. "You think he's going to strike in the Dallas area?"
Matt shrugged, waving a finger at Prentiss and Morgan. "We're already debating that. That's why I wanted fresh eyes and perspectives." Cruz pointed at Dave.
Dave shook him off, picking up on Matt's words. "You don't think he is?"
"Didn't you say he's playing with us?" Dave nodded. "We've got one big ass smoke screen."
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A/N: More characters from the CM episode 9.3 Final Shot. Same rights reserved as stated in last chapter, along with the writer.