Author's Notes: Whew, when I started this I figured four, maybe five chapters, I never expected this monster. Yikes. Anyway, for better or worse, it's done now, except an epilog, which is mostly written already. Need to tweak it a bit before posting. For all you lovely folks who have read, favorited, followed and/or reviewed: I thank you from the bottom of my heart. You're the best. K
Part 11
Hotch watched the placement of the explosives around the heavy metal door, remaining well back and letting those officers with that specific training take the lead. Rossi, Kate and JJ flanked Hotch, with the contingent of deputies behind them. The trio who wired the door scurried back behind them, warning all to duck. Seconds later the blast took out the door, which thumped to the ground.
The group moved in quickly guns at the ready. Hotch led one group to the area believed to be the living quarters, while Rossi led the remainder on a search of the rest of the floor.
JJ reached out to open the door to the tech room, with the rest of the group standing at the ready. She twisted the knob, pleased to find it unlocked. The blonde agent quickly opened the door, and the group entered the room in silent haste. There were three doors spaced along the back wall of the large room, and the team split up between them, opening them simultaneously on Hotch's signal.
Hotch crept into his chosen room, while the deputy with him located and turned on the lights. The figure on the bed sat up in confusion as Hotch called out.
"FBI! Put your hands where I can see them!"
William Carson squinted in the general direction of the FBI agent, while raising slightly shaky hands. "I'm not armed," he quavered.
As the BAU team leader watched the deputy cuff the suspect, reciting his Miranda Rights, he heard distant gun fire, and his heart sank. He knew it had been too easy.
"This is Team Four, we have an officer down and the armed suspect has gone back into the building!" came the report over the communications system.
Hotch's companion shot him a worried look, even as he dragged the suspect from his bed.
"Let's move him to the other room," the FBI agent ordered, stepping out to find the other two suspects were also cuffed and sitting along the wall between doors, guarded by JJ and the other deputies.
Aaron nodded his approval and spoke into the small device at his collar. "Make sure the two stairways to the lower level are guarded, we don't want him going down there if we have hostages," he ordered. "McCay, get Garcia to a defensible location and stay alert."
"Already done sir."
Hotch looked at his companions, singling out two of the deputies. "You guard these three, you take the door," he instructed them. He indicated JJ and the other three deputies. "We'll spread out and look for the shooter. He's likely feeling trapped and desperate, and will be unpredictable. Take every precaution, if you have to shoot, do so."
He glanced over at the three cuffed suspects, all of whom looked downright terrified at the sight of the armed officers. He strode over and hauled Calloway to his feet, getting right in the man's face as he growled out his question. "How many guards do you have here?"
"Ju…just the one," the thin man stuttered, eyes rounded in fear. "Just him."
Hotch pushed him back down, and stalked toward the door, speaking into the microphone again. "Confirmed that there is only the one guard."
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Smithers moved through the familiar maze of corridors with confidence. He was still in the area where lights had not been turned on, so he could move quickly. His new plan was to get to the lower floor and get himself a hostage. Or sixty three. He slowed as he saw that the lights were on in the intersecting corridor, which happened to be the one he needed to use to gain access to the lower level. He carefully approached and peeked toward the stairway.
The career criminal pulled back and breathed out a near silent curse when he spotted the deputy guarding the stairwell. He'd been fortunate the young man had been looking the other way when he'd checked, but that was the only lucky thing about it. Brian leaned back against the wall and considered his options.
He was a crack shot, so he knew he could take out the deputy, but he didn't know where the officer's support and backup might be. He couldn't get to the other stairway without getting too near the northern area, which he realized is where the law enforcement personnel had entered. Hiding in one of the rooms behind him would buy him some time, but there was no way to escape from them; he would eventually be found.
A sort of icy calm came over the man as he made his decision. Pulling his gun he cocked it, taking a calming breath with his eyes closed, envisioning exactly where the deputy had been standing, then he released the breath as he stepped out into the corridor, his gun aimed at the precise spot the deputy had been just seconds before.
Deputy Kenneth Snow would forever count that day as one of the luckiest of his life, because as Smithers came out and shot at his location, the young deputy was no longer standing in the same spot, but had moved to the other side of the corridor, and was now facing toward where the unsub appeared. While Smithers attempted to adjust for the new location of the deputy, the officer snapped off his own shot and darted to the opening for the stairway.
Brian Smithers cursed and took two steps toward the stairwell before a stern voice spoke up from behind him.
"FBI, drop your weapon!"
Brian raised his hands, gun still in his right one, and slowly turned to face the FBI agent. When he saw the officer – older, a bit paunchy, with a kind of hound dog look to his face – he knew he'd have to decide if he could take him. This was no youngster facing him, and Smithers hoped the older man would be slower to respond than a youthful one would be.
Rossi watched the unsub's face with all the years of profiling and reading people informing his interpretation. And he saw the exact moment the man decided to try his luck. The gun had just started to move into position when Rossi fired his own weapon, the bullet tearing into Smither's chest and severing the main artery. The man was dead as he hit the floor.
"Suspect is down," Dave reported into his mike, striding over and kicking the suspect's gun away. "You okay deputy?" he asked the officer at the stairs.
"Yes sir. Thank you. Your timing was excellent," Snow replied.
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Hotch stopped searching when Dave's announcement came over the communications. Turning back toward the tech room, he spoke tersely into the microphone.
"McCay, bring Garcia in now. Rossi, JJ, Kate, take some deputies and check the lower level. I want at least two people finishing the search of the upper level as well. I'll be in the tech room," he ordered.
He got back to the computer filled room at the same time McCay and Garcia arrived, and he ushered his analyst in ahead of him. "I need you to figure out what we have here," he requested.
Garcia looked around with wide eyes, moving quickly to start up the systems and turn on the various monitors. What she saw filled her with awe, and she sat at the middle chair, studying the information intently.
Hotch walked over, watching her actions but not asking questions. Rossi's voice came from the communications system again.
"Hotch, we have people down here. LOTS of people. But the cages are locked, and we need a key or for Garcia to do her thing and open them all."
"I can do that, give me a minute," she said to Hotch, her fingers flying over the keys.
"Dave, when the doors are unlocked, have them all go upstairs to the big room in the middle," Hotch instructed him.
"It looks like they call it the 'arena'," Garcia provided, pointing to the label on one of the monitors, which showed the large room.
"Tell them to go to the 'arena'," Aaron revised his orders, looking down at Garcia.
"Almost got it, sir," she said to his unspoken question. "Just another minute. There!"
"They're open," Rossi confirmed.
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Kate and the deputies went up and down the assorted corridors, shouting out to the occupants of the tiny rooms to 'go to the arena', seeing with a sense of amazement how many people they were freeing. Rossi and JJ stood at the base of the stairways, looking for their missing teammates.
Morgan was in the group that went to Rossi's stairway, and the two agent's eyes met, relief filling them both.
"Damn, Rossi, I didn't think it would be possible to be this happy to see you," Morgan said, taking the older agent's hand and putting his other hand on his shoulder.
"The feeling is mutual, my friend. Are we going to find Reid as well?"
"You should. I saw him earlier today," Morgan replied, a shadow in his eyes despite the good tidings.
"I have Morgan, Reid should be showing up," Rossi said into his microphone, still scanning the people going by.
Spencer was plodding in the group heading toward the stairs when a familiar voice caught his attention.
"Spence!"
Reid turned toward the source of the sound, a smile suddenly lighting up his face when he spotted JJ's smiling visage. Hurrying over to her side, he was promptly enveloped in a welcoming hug.
"Oh, my God, it's so good to see you," JJ murmured, giving one last squeeze and stepping back to examine her friend. Seeing bruises and welts, she felt a sense of fury, even as she ran gentle hands over his arms.
"Whoever did this to you, we'll get them," she assured him.
"It's fine, JJ. If you got the masterminds behind this, then you already got them. Oh, and the big guy who was like their enforcer or something," Spencer assured her.
"Oh, that's probably the suspect Rossi shot," the blonde informed him.
"Ah," Reid said vaguely, his eyes on the freed hostages going by.
"Come on," JJ urged him, her hand on his arm. "I know the others are anxious to see you," she said, herding him up the stairs.
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Hotch and Garcia shared a relieved glance when Rossi's announcement came, and Deputy McCay added his own congratulations. Then their attention turned to the monitor showing the arena, which was beginning to fill up with very subdued men and women all dressed in sweatpants and tank tops of varying colors.
"My God, so many of them," McCay breathed, turning to look at the trio of suspects being guarded by two deputies. "What kind of monsters are they, to do this?"
"Caught monsters, the best kind," Garcia answered gently, still engrossed in discovering the secrets in the computer system. "Oh, ew," she said.
"What is it Garcia?" Hotch asked.
"Looks like they recorded their contests," she said, bringing up a file. It showed two fighters – one red, one green – fighting in that same arena now filling up with rescued hostages. Less than eight minutes in the red fighter landed a massive blow to his opponent's head, and the man fell to the ground and lay unmoving as a puddle of blood blossomed under his head.
"Oh, God," Penelope groaned, turning it off. "There are dozens of these files."
"I think we can safely say it will take the local authorities some time to identify all the victims who have passed through here," Hotch said. Any further comment was forgotten as Garcia gasped and leapt to her feet, to rush over and grab Reid in an enthusiastic bear hug.
"Oh, Baby G Man, you're okay!" she gasped out, releasing him only to put her warm hands on either side of his face. "You have to stop scaring us like this!" she scolded him gently before hugging him again.
Spencer caught Hotch's amused gaze over Garcia's head and gave his boss a slightly bemused smile.
A bit of commotion at the door caught their attention and Penelope abruptly released Reid to rush over and grab Morgan fiercely.
"Damn you! You ever do this again and I won't try and find you," she threatened into his broad chest.
Morgan gently moved her away so he could look into her face. "Baby Girl, you will always come looking for me, and that's what helped me survive," he said gravely. "You don't ever give up."
Her eyes were suspiciously moist above her bright smile. "True, but you're still in trouble," she noted, hugging him again.
"Mama, you think you can find a way to get this off?" he asked, fingering the collar around his neck.
"But of course," she assured him, already searching the system. "Hmmm..this looks like it might be it, but there are no names, just numbers," she muttered.
"They assigned us numbers," Reid explained from behind them.
"Ah." She looked up at Morgan. "And may I have your number, my precious?"
"Baby Girl, you've always had my number," Morgan grinned. "One fifty five."
"Oh, well, it appears I can activate or I can remove. Which do you prefer?" she asked with a smirk.
"Let's go with remove," Morgan requested with a glare.
"Remove it is." She hit the button and the collar on Morgan's neck immediately unsnapped.
"Thank you, Mama," Morgan said, running his hand over his neck.
"Garcia, number two seventy nine, please?" Reid asked plaintively.
She moved the cursor again and Spencer's collar also snapped off. Turning back to the screen she began to methodically remove each and every collar number.
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Fifteen minutes after the BAU had been reunited a deputy who'd been among those searching the lower level arrived to announce that there appeared to be no other people down there.
"Did you do a head count?" Hotch asked.
"Yep. Sixty one. Your two guys meant they had sixty three people here," the younger man answered with a disgusted look at the suspects. "Some are in pretty rough shape."
"We need to arrange for transportation out," the BAU leader commented.
"Sheriff Adams had a suggestion for that," McCay said, handing Hotch a business card. "The Amador bus line has a bus in Winnemucca, they drive a group of miners to the mine and back every day. He said to call the guy on the card, and mention his name, and he'd make sure the bus came to get anyone you needed."
Hotch gave one of his rare smiles. "Adams is a good man," he noted.
"Yes he is " McCay agreed.
"I've already deactivated the security system and opened the gates," Garcia added, smiling at the deputy.
"We should call in the remaining helicopters and get going back to Reno," Hotch noted. One of the helicopters had already been dispatched with the deputy wounded earlier. "This is a local matter now."
"Uh, Hotch, could I have a few minutes? There's someone there in the arena I want to talk to," Morgan requested.
"Me, too," Reid chimed in.
"Of course," Aaron agreed, watching the two younger men carefully. They'd all noticed a seeming tension between the two of them, and it concerned them all.
They silently walked to the large room, entering and scanning the faces assembled. Morgan spotted his trainer first and hurried over.
"Is this the doing of the FBI?" Lance asked Morgan with a broad smile.
"Yep. I told you, my team is the best," Derek grinned. "Look, man, we're leaving soon, we end up leaving all the follow-up to the locals, but I just….wanted to thank you. For all you did for me," the dark skinned man said diffidently.
"I didn't do that much. And I need to thank you. I know you and your friend didn't want to be kidnapped, and the whole situation sucked, but I'll be forever grateful you were. Because of that, this nightmare is over. For all of us. That's a miracle none of us expected. Because of that, I'll finally get to see my son again," the man's voice hitched as moisture filled his eyes. "I'll get to go home to Jason."
"That thought helps make it feel better, thank you. Oh, and I want you to take this," he said, handing over a slip of paper. "That's my cell number. When you get home, call me, please. Let me know how you're doing. Anytime, if I can help, you call me. Please?"
"I'll do that," Lance promised, putting the precious slip of paper in his pocket.
"And you do me a favor. Forgive yourself. You did everything you had to do, all of us here have. Don't let the bad guys win," the one time Karate instructor said sincerely.
"I'll work on it." Derek assured him, pulling him in for a quick hug. "You take care of yourself."
Across the room Spencer had located Aisha, who looked more than a little dazed by the current turn of events.
"Is it true? We're going home?" she asked looking around.
"Yes. They are arranging a bus as we speak," Reid assured her.
"Where are we?"
Spencer gave her a perfectly bemused expression. "I don't know. I forgot to ask." He glanced around, spotting one of the deputies, who he waved over.
"Officer, where are we?" Reid asked.
"You don't know?" the deputy asked in surprise.
"We were unconscious when we were brought here," Reid explained in his patient way.
"Ah. Well, you're about six miles outside of Winnemucca. Nevada," he replied.
"Thank you."
Aisha still seemed distant.
"I thought you'd be pleased to be going home," Spencer said at last.
"I…I am. It's just…will I be enough?" she wondered. At Spencer's puzzled look, she elaborated. "I was with my sister and brother-in-law. Our families have been worried about all three of us. And they're only getting me back. I don't think that'll be enough."
Reid took her cool hands in his long fingered ones. "Aisha, your family will be thrilled to get you back. Yes, they will grieve for your sister and brother-in-law, but that doesn't mean they won't be grateful to get you back. A lot of families will be getting the news that they aren't getting anyone back," he advised her gently.
"I hope you're right," she commented softly.
"I usually am. Here," he said, holding out a slip of paper. "This is my phone number, call me anytime for anything." He was pleased to note the melancholy mood seemed to be lifting.
"Thank you," she said, pocketing the slip of paper.
"No, thank YOU. You were incredibly kind and patient, and I was a terrible student," Reid said. "You probably saved my life."
"I totally saved your life," she quipped, a spark of humor warming her eyes. "And you really are a terrible student. How'd you ever get those PhDs?"
"Subjects I liked," he countered, pleased to see the spark back in those dark eyes. "Look we have to leave soon, but I really do thank you."
"You're welcome, Dr. Reid," she said emphasizing his title. She leaned forward, planting a chaste kiss on his cheek. "Try to keep out of trouble, huh?"
"I'll work on that."
To be continued