Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds
A/N: Thanks again to all my loyal reviewers.
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Fletcher looked at the woman closely; she was so white, her body seemed drained of all color. Her toes and lips had a bluish purple tinge. He reached out to touch her but pulled his hand back before it reached her body. Stop it Fletcher, you have to find out if she's alive. He walked over to the ladder next to the workbench and dragged it over the spot beside the woman. He opened it awkwardly with his cuffed hands and scampered up to the top rung. He knew he should feel for the pulse in her neck but it was made difficult by his handcuffs and her arm in the way. Eventually his trembling fingers reached the spot and he felt for the pulse. He felt something that seemed very fast and he prayed it wasn't just his own fingers shaking. Her skin was cold and damp. He could see from here that she was breathing although her chest moved very little.
The boy went over what he'd observed and what he'd read and concluded the lady was in shock. The books said he should cover her but there was nothing to cover her with. "Lady, I know you need help really bad and I'm going to try and get us help. The police won't believe me and the FBI don't believe me either except for Agent Reid. I'm going to call Agent Reid, he'll help us. Please lady, hang on okay." The boy winced at his own choice of words.
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The SUVs ate up the miles driving well over the speed limit. Vehicles barely had time to pull over before the agents whizzed by them. They had close calls when dodging a couple of tour buses unable to get out of the way fast enough. Two vehicles flew over the California blacktop while six agents prayed.
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Fletcher stuck his head out of the basement. He saw no sign of the woman who was holding him captive. The house was silent. He tiptoed into the medieval castle like kitchen. A large island was the centerpiece of the room consisting of coffee colored oak cabinets with a sandy tinted granite countertop. It also contained a large black sink and a wine refrigerator. The cook top was housed in a floor to ceiling stone arch featuring a limestone backsplash with brass inlay in a diamond pattern. The appliances on the opposing wall were stainless steel. He spotted the cordless phone on the counter top. He ran over and grabbed it, quickly dialing Agent Reid's cell phone number when a cold voice said "What the hell do you think you're doing? How did you get up here?" Muriel ran to grab the phone from his grasp but the boy fought her. She slapped him across the face and Fletcher dropped the phone which sailed across the terra cotta floor tiles and landed under the kitchen table as the boy kicked Muriel in the shin.
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The BAU team continued through the wine country, their blue and red flashing lights a beacon in the darkening night. Reid's cell phone rang and he answered thinking it was one of his teammates in the lead SUV. "Reid."
No one spoke. He could hear sounds of scuffling and a woman screamed, "You little bastard, I'll take so much pleasure in killing you." Reid's eyes widened.
A child's voice replied, "You'll have to catch me first," and Reid heard more footsteps and scuffling. Oh my God, Fletcher had managed to call him and he was fighting Muriel Dressler. They had to get there before she hurt him or worse.
Emily looked back, seeing the expression on Reid's face and that he appeared to be listening so intently. "What is it Reid," she asked, her instincts telling her that something important was being said over the telephone. Reid quickly explained and Emily was on the phone instantly, calling Rossi and whispering what she knew while Reid listened to the events unfolding in the Dressler home.
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Fletcher tried to make his way to the back door but it was locked and by the time he reached his cuffed hands up and turned the deadbolt, Muriel was on him from behind. She tried to lift him but the child squirmed making it impossible although his arms were pinned to his side. He tried to kick her but it was difficult with the woman behind him. Then, in the stillness of the night, with only their ragged breathing breaking the silence, he heard it. It sounded like sirens. They were coming. Help was coming at last!
Hotch and Morgan silenced the sirens as they neared the Dressler home. They parked and got out of the vehicles in front of the white house with four front columns in the Greek style. A porch spanned the entire residence and there was a second story balcony. The team donned their vests. Hotch, Morgan and Prentiss went to the front while Rossi, Reid and JJ went to the back although Reid seemed reluctant to put down the cell phone, his only connection to Fletcher.
Hotch banged on the door announcing they were FBI agents. Muriel tightened her arm around the boy as Rossi banged on the back door identifying them as FBI as well. Muriel held on tightly to the child as she backed up, opening a drawer and extracting a large butcher knife. The knob of the back door turned slowly and the door was pushed open quickly, revealing Rossi, his gun leveled at Muriel Dressler. He entered the room followed quickly by Reid and JJ.
The sound of shattering glass was heard as the dead bolted door would not give. Prentiss had broken a window and climbed in, opening the door for the others. They made their way to the kitchen to find Muriel Dressler standing against the kitchen cupboard with her arm tightly around Fletcher. The boy's hands were in cuffs and his eyes were as big as saucers. He had a bruise on his left cheek, a long cut on his forehead and another on the top of his left hand. Muriel held a very large, very sharp butcher knife pointed at the child.
"Mrs. Dressler, please put down the knife, there's nowhere for you to go. You don't want to hurt the boy." Muriel's grip tightened on Fletcher. Fletcher looked out at the barrels of six guns pointed at him and the lady. Reid could see the fear in his eyes and the frenzy in Muriel's.
"Put the knife down Deputy Commissioner," Hotch tried to persuade the woman. "As an officer of the law, you know how this works."
"I don't care anymore. If you want to shoot me, shoot me." The knife moved closer to Fletcher's throat and the boy tried to move his head further away. "I don't know how well that'll work for your little friend here," she said.
The agents all aimed their guns until Reid said quietly, "We can't shoot her guys."
"What are you talking about Reid," Hotch said suspiciously?
"She's got AIDS Hotch, we shoot her and we have no idea where her blood goes. Look at Fletcher; he's got two open cuts." All eyes shifted to the boy's wounds.
"Well," Muriel smirked, "It looks like you've got a decision to make."