Chapter 14
Meeting
"The fire you kindle for your enemy often burns yourself more than them" - Chinese Proverb
Emily parked behind Dave's SUV on the main drag. She could see the flickering of the fire through the trees, but she couldn't see Rossi or Morgan. As she left the car, she got out her mobile to call them, but suddenly thought that the ring could compromise them if they were watching Sanders. She decided to circumnavigate the burning car, and approach from the other side.
The undergrowth was thick, and grabbed at Emily's legs as she fought her way through the bracken and trailing brambles. Her legs were heavily bandaged, for which she was glad. She held her gun with both hands, swinging it at every sound in the dark night. The flickering firelight through the trees made the darkness come to life, shadowy wisps of ethereal creatures curling through the night.
She had never feared the dark, and found it hard to understand those who did. Tonight she understood.
Slowly she made her way around the flames.
-0-0-0-
Morgan was mesmerised by the heat and dying flames. He was so bloody certain that Hotchner was in the car, he found he was going through how he was going to tell Reid that they had lost their team leader.
Stop it! Derek Morgan, stop now!
Hotch would have said, without evidence to the contrary, assume that the victim is still alive, and work the case accordingly. He had never felt so afraid to see the truth.
The flames were burning low now. They could clearly see that there was no one in the car. Morgan had a tyre iron in his hand. Together, he and Dave went to the back of the car. The heat had buckled the boot lid, and Morgan pushed the end of the tyre iron into the gap, and leaned down. It took several attempts to lever open the boot, but slowly, it creaked open.
Neither agent wanted to look. Neither wanted to find a body like this, it was one of the worst. But if they found Aaron here, it would be an image that would stay with them forever.
Braving the heat that was still being radiated by the twisted metal, they leaned forward to check.
It was with a relieved sigh that Morgan turned away from the charred remains of the usual paraphernalia that most people kept in their cars.
But no burnt corpse.
"He took Hotch with him!" Morgan said, realising suddenly that the relief was short lived. Ok, his body wasn't lying burnt in the car, but now they had to find him.
Wiping sweat from his face, Dave stood next to him.
"From what Prentiss said, he would not be able to walk anywhere. So where ever Sanders is, he has either got to leave the body somewhere, of struggle on, hampered by carrying him."
Morgan dragged his eyes away from the glowing metal hulk, and looked at Dave. "So we need to follow him." Morgan growled. "We'll either get him with Hotch, or if he has left him, I'll make him
tell me where." Fists clenched, and jaw set, he felt he could get the information out of him with his bare hands.
Dave again passed a comforting hand across Morgan's shoulder. "Call for back-up, Morgan, I'll find this end of the trail."
Morgan stepped away behind a tree to get away from the heat, and called Garcia. He briefed her, and asked her to call the Quantico PD.
"Hotch could be anywhere now. We need help to track them down." he said. "Please, ask them to meet us by the cars at six. We'll look now, but I think we will need them once it is light."
"I'll do that, Angel Fish. I wish there was more I could do." Garcia said. "I have searched the area on line, and there doesn't appear to be anywhere out there that he could be going."
"This is the devolving disorganised UnSub, Princess." Morgan said. "None of this was part of his plan. Overlooking Hotch's ankle gun was his undoing."
"Go find him for us, Babe." she said. Morgan knew that the cheerful words were tainted with fear and worry. She had told him before how useless she felt when a case was peaking. He explained to her that much of the time, without her expertise, the case would never get so far, but he totally understood what she was saying. He didn't think he could just sit, knowing what was going down.
There again, adrenalin was like food to him. He needed the fix to keep him going.
He said good bye to her, and closed his phone, then he looked around for Rossi.
"I think he went this way." He shone his flashlight on the ground. "There's blood here on the foliage."
"So he brought Hotch this way."
"Unless he's hurt himself, yes." Dave said. "And he wasn't carrying him either. It looks as if he was dragged."
"Oh god." Morgan breathed. He was glad it was dark. He couldn't understand how Rossi was staying so much in control, so free and unaffected, as if this was just an unknown victim they were looking for.
Not that any other victim was of lesser importance than Hotch. But when emotions became involved, Morgan's heart was on his sleeve. He couldn't know that Dave, Aaron Hotchner's best and only close friend, was so screwed up inside, he was finding it difficult to even breathe..
The briefest touch and understanding look cost Dave dearly, when all he wanted to do was scream Aaron's name and smash through the trees to find him.
He was crying, but the tears were never shed.
But Morgan couldn't know that
-0-0-0-
"I want you to think about why you are going to die."
Sanders wiped his prints off the can with the front of his shirt, then threw it into the undergrowth. It didn't matter that someone could find it. There was nothing special about it, and they could never trace it back to him.
He stooped down next to the man lying on the forest floor, backing off slightly as the fumes hit the back of his throat.
"Tell me why you are dying. A punishment is wasted unless the person punished knows why it is happening."
Aaron didn't say anything. His mouth was sore and bleeding, his tongue thick and swollen. His throat was burned with the solvent. He couldn't speak.
Please, just get it over...
Sanders leaned forwards and pulled Hotch's hands away from his face. His eyes were tightly closed, the hollows filled with little pools of accelerant.
"Your eyes are going to burn well." he said.
Aaron coughed, his mouth filling with blood clots and solvent. He turned his head to one side and threw up, his stomach heaving and tearing as the muscles cramped and twisted. Between each wrenching spasm, he cried out gutturally, his throat making unrecognisable sounds.
Sanders pushed his head back with his foot so that he was facing up again. He noticed that the hollows of his eyes were no longer pools of solvent, but were now filling with tears. Blood trickled from the corners of his mouth and from his nose.
"It seems," he said, "That I will have to tell you why I am going to kill you."
Hotch laid still. Whatever this man said, he would not be able to refute.
"You touched something that you had no right to touch."
Emily? I need to protect Emily...
"You need to be taught that touching is ownership, and you own nothing. She is mine, and only I have the right. I have beaten one who touched, David Rossi. I have killed another; a skinny weak creature. He was pathetic. They have learned that she is mine. You need to learn now."
Dave's alive? Who has he killed? Spencer? Oh god no! Please, not Spencer...I need to know!... please...
-0-0-0-
Sanders stood next to his fallen victim. "I want you to open your eyes. I want you to see this."
Aaron's eyes would not open, so Sanders bent down and forced them open. It took several attempts, but at last, Aaron was able to keep them open, although his vision was distorted and blurred. His eyes had lost their dark brilliance, and were coated with a misty sheen. But he could see the brightness of the flame as he flicked his lighter.
Hotch shook with fear...
"FBI Sanders. Do not move a muscle, or I shoot your goddamned head off."
Morgan? oh god! Morgan!
Sanders looked up in a panic. Morgan was standing at the edge of the clearing, knees bent, ready to shoot.
Just one man! So Hotchner wasn't so important!
"On your own? You think you can stop me? When this one is gone, I'll hunt you down too!" He held the lighter up, casting an eerie shadow over the still man at his feet.
Morgan looked down at Hotch, searching for a movement. His hand, stretched over his head, twitched. He was still alive. There was still a chance.
Sanders reached into his pocket, and took out a gun. He pointed it at Morgan.
"I think I'll just shoot you now." he said.
"I can promise you, if you pull that trigger, it will be the last movement you will make." Morgan said into the clearing. It occurred to him what a lovely place this was, dawn mist rising, wild flowers ready to open to the rising sun, and he thought how everything lovely was always tainted with the filth and wickedness he had dedicated his life to conquer.
He steadied his gun, levelling it with both hands. But he knew he couldn't shoot. It would only take one tiny spark, and they would lose Hotch. Morgan would die first.
Slowly, Sanders bent down, the tiny lethal flame inches from Aaron's face.
Aaron's eyes widened in terror, silently screaming in his mind...
Dave jumped him from the side, and two guns discharged.
An arc of blood spray, and the lighter fell from Sanders' hand...