Chapter 38

Hotch made Chuck promise to keep a closer eye on Kahlan and then pulled her into a hug. She promised to let him know as soon as they were done. He kissed her goodbye and climbed the stairs to the Director of National Intelligence's jet. He whistled as he looked around. Damn. I thought our jet was nice.

He sat down in one of the oversized captain's chairs and sunk into the luxury seat. I could get used to this. He leaned back and it reclined. Now that's cool as shit! He quickly sat back up as a young woman came into the cabin.

"Refreshments are over here," she told him as she pushed on a panel to reveal a mini-fridge and a cabinet. "And here is the remote," she finished as she handed him a remote after pushing a button and a massive flat screen came up out of a cabinet on the side of the jet.

Hotch smiled. "Thank you."

"If you need anything, Agent Hotchner, just press the red button on the side of the armrest and I will see to it that you get whatever you need."

"I'm fine," he assured her.

"Well, buckle up. We're about ready for takeoff," she told him with a smile and then left.

He shook his head as he buckled his seatbelt and then looked around again. His brows furrowed as he saw Kahlan's messenger bag. He bit his lip. Should I? He ran a hand along his chin. No, you shouldn't go through your wife's bag, Hotchner! He sat back and tried to focus on the TV.

Once they reached cruising altitude, his eyes trailed back to the bag sitting so innocently on the floor on the other side of the jet. He drummed his fingertips on the armrest. I probably don't have high enough clearance to even look at the outside of the files let alone read them. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked around the cabin. He couldn't see any cameras or anything. Hmmmm. . . He undid his seatbelt and moved to the seat next to the bag. She wouldn't leave classified files lying around, though, would she? He looked down into the bag. Dave would do it. He bit his lip. I guess it isn't any worse than reading her medical records.

He huffed and grabbed the bag. If I see anything marked classified, I won't read it. The outside of the first file he brought out was blank. Hmmm. . . He opened it and his chest tightened. Oh my God! Right on top was a picture of several dead bodies and it was obvious they had died in a horrible way. He swallowed hard and flipped the picture to the other side. The next thing was an ME report that listed Sarin gas as the main cause of death but that Lewisite, a blister agent, was the cause of all of the superficial wounds. Son of a bitch!

He turned back to the picture and really looked at it. He couldn't really tell anything from the setting as it looked like any city, but up in the corner there was a left side of a small green sign. That is a street sign, an American street sign. Oh shit! He quickly went to the next page. It was the dossier of a man, so were the next ten pages. Really? Eleven of these sons of bitches! He sat the file on the table in front of him. But they found more. He got up and looked in the refrigerator because his mouth was suddenly very dry.

Christ, Babe, is this really what you're working on? He downed about half of the bottle of water and then stood there looking at the still open folder on the table. He took a deep breath and sat back down. So they must have taken out the eleven already. He shook his head and turned the page. It listed several addresses in and around New York City. His hand balled into a fist involuntarily and squirted water all over his leg and the table. Shit! He jumped up and quickly looked around for something to clean it up with. Seeing nothing, he went to the little door in the back hoping that it was the restroom. It was, and he emerged with a handful of paper towels. Only a few drops got on the file, but he still winced because he knew that Kahlan would know someone had been looking in it.

After he got the water cleaned up, he sat down with the file again and turned the page. He frowned as he looked at his wife's handwriting. He couldn't make any of it out because she had written all of her notes in her crazy shorthand that he had yet to figure out. I'm going to have to ask her about that one day. He took a deep breath and closed the file. He wanted to take out his phone and call his wife, but he knew she wouldn't answer if she was busy, and he didn't want to distract her. Maybe this isn't what she's working on. Maybe this is just a consult or something. Maybe. . . He shook his head. He knew that was the case, and he understood why Clapper wanted Kahlan in on it. He also understood why all of the agencies hadn't been alerted about the potential terrorist threat. Something this serious has to be kept to a few as possible.

He finished off what was left of the water and went to the next file. That was a normal case file from the CIA. They wanted Kahlan to teach a few agents advanced stealth practices. He chuckled. If anyone is qualified for that, it's her. Another file was asking for an opinion on how to raid a compound, and the rest were normal things, too. He gathered up the files to put them back in her bag. As he held the bag open, something caught his eye. He set the files down on the table and reached into the bottom of the bag.

He smiled as he pulled out a small leather book that was tied closed with a leather string. Her Indiana Jones notebook as she calls it. His thumb traced over the soft leather. I've always wondered what was in this thing. He tapped the notebook on the table. God, though, reading this is probably like reading her diary. He shook his head. Reading a case file because I'm worried about her is one thing, but reading this. . . Would she read it, if it was mine? Hmmmm. . .What if it is a diary of sorts? If you knew it was, would you still want to read it? He knew it was old, and he figured she'd had it for a really long time. He bit his lip. Maybe she just jots down things as she comes across them or ideas that pop into her head or. . . He took a deep breath and untied the string. He sat it down on the table, though, and ran a hand along his chin. Either open it or put it back, Hotchner.

He ran a hand through his hair. Ok. Open it up, and if it looks like a diary, put it back. If it's not a diary. . . He opened the flap slowly. He smiled as he saw a picture taped to the first page. It was a picture of him and Kahlan from one of those little photo booths. She had pulled him into one a few months after she had moved to Virginia. He chuckled as he remembered the day when the picture was taken. That was a wonderful day. He shut the book and tied the string. I can't read it. He put it and the files back in the bag and moved back to the other seat.

He leaned back and closed his eyes thinking about the woman who had changed his life so much. Please be careful, Babe, and please, God, watch out for her and let her come home safely.

XXX

Hotch got back to the BAU, went to the locker room to shave and change, and was still in his office before most of the team got there. Rossi went into Hotch's office and sat down with a smile. "So?"

Hotch put down his pen and looked at him. "You wouldn't believe what they're working on."

Seeing the fear in Hotch's eyes made Rossi sit up straighter. He got up and shut Hotch's door. "Is she going to be alright?"

Hotch took a deep breath. "God, I hope so," he told him as he ran a hand down his face and then told Rossi about the file and Kahlan's altercation the night before.

Rossi shook his head slowly as he studied his friend. "Sorry. I guess sending you there just made you worry more."

Hotch held up a hand. "No. I'm glad I was there, but figuring out what she's facing made my chest tighten and it hasn't let up since."

Rossi stood up and went around Hotch's desk and put his hand on Hotch's shoulder. "She'll be fine, Aaron."

Hotch nodded slowly.

"Come on, It looks like you haven't had enough coffee this morning," Rossi offered with a grin and patted him on the back.

Hotch took a deep breath. "Yeah." He grinned as he followed Rossi to the break room. "And yet I'm supposed to cut back on the caffeine."

Rossi snorted. "Just tell him you have the next time you see him. He'll never know."

Hotch looked at him questioningly.

"What? I told my doctor about ten years ago that I stopped drinking and only had one cup of coffee a day," Rossi told him with a grin. "And he continues to be proud of me on every visit."

Hotch deadpanned. "Can't they tell that from your blood work or whatever?"

Rossi shook his head. "They only test for couple of health related things with a routine physical."

Hotch nodded as he thought about it. "Well, either way, I need my caffeine today."

Morgan stepped into the break room. "Case."

"Be right there," Rossi told him as he filled his cup.

XXX

Hotch text Kahlan once they were on the jet and headed to Connecticut. A missing three year old girl had them hitting the ground running.

It took them almost eighteen hours, but they found the little girl and the unsub. They all were tired but happy as they made their way to the hotel at four o'clock in the morning. They were going to crash for five hours and then go back home in the morning.

Hotch groaned as his alarm went off. He picked up his phone and threw it down on the bed after silencing the annoying thing. He stared at the ceiling. The case had kept his mind busy the day before, but he was really getting worried that he hadn't heard anything form Kahlan yet. He took a deep breath and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He got up and headed to the restroom to get ready.

After grabbing breakfast, they made their way to the jet, and most of them settled back down to grab a few more winks on the flight home. Hotch sat in his usual seat in the back and stared out the window. Rossi shook his head and went and joined him. "Anything yet?"

"Nope."

Rossi patted his thigh. "But you'd know if she was hurt, so you don't need to worry."

Hotch pursed his lips and looked at him. "I didn't know she was hurt the day before."

Rossi's brows furrowed. "Really?"

Hotch shrugged.

Rossi sat back and considered it a moment. "Maybe. . ."

Hotch looked at him questioningly. "What?"

Rossi shook his head.

"Seriously, Dave, if you have a theory, I'd love to hear it."

"You still feel connected, right?"

Hotch nodded. "Yes, thank God."

Rossi frowned. "Well, maybe she wasn't that worried about it, so you didn't feel it. All those other times, she was emotionally charged."

That's true. Only Kahlan wouldn't be scared as she fell two stories. A small smile found its way to Hotch's lips. "That makes sense." He nodded. "Thanks, Dave."

Rossi smiled. "That's what I'm here for," he told him as he gave Hotch's shoulder a fatherly squeeze.

XXX

Hotch put his files back into his briefcase as he made his way down the steps of the jet. He wasn't watching where he was going and ran right into someone. "Sorry," he offered quickly and finally looked up.

Kahlan smiled at the shocked look on her husband's face. "I guess I'll forgive you, this time."

A big grin spread on Hotch's face. "What are you doing here?"

Kahlan looked dejected. "Well, if you don't want me here, I guess Chuck can take me home," she told him and started for Chuck who was standing beside his Jeep.

"I didn't mean it like that," Hotch told her quickly as he grabbed her shoulder.

She winced and pulled away from him.

"Shit. Sorry, Babe."

She smiled. "It's fine. We got back about ten minutes ago, and the pilot let us know your jet was almost here, so we decided to wait."

He pulled her into a hug and he felt all of his worry finally melt away. "Thank you. Seeing you for myself is so much better than getting a text or a call."

"I figured."

He pulled away and gave her a once over. "You didn't get hurt anymore did you?"

She smiled. "Nope."

"Thank God!" he exclaimed and pulled her back into another hug.

She giggled. "I guess we better go, though, since you still have to work."

He let her go and walked with her toward Chuck. "Yeah, but I'll be heading out at five."

"Ok. I'll fix you something good for dinner then."

Hotch looked at Chuck and his stomach flipped. "My God, Charles!" Chuck's bare left forearm was covered with blisters and burns. The sight of it made Hotch's blood run cold as he knew exactly what had caused it.

Chuck shrugged. "No worse for wear."

Hotch head snapped to Kahlan. "You didn't. . ."

"No!" she told him quickly knowing he was worried about her having the same wounds. She looked at Chuck with admiration. "Chuck shielded me."

Hotch took a deep breath as his eyes locked with Chuck's. Chuck nodded his understanding of what Hotch didn't say. "That's my job."

Hotch shook his head trying to rid himself of all of the horrible images that flooded his mind of what could have happened. "That Lewisite is some nasty shit, huh?"

Chuck's eyes popped open. "How did you. . ."

Kahlan's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Aaron Hotchner!"

Hotch gave them a grin. "I'll see you at home, Babe," he told her as he leaned over and kissed her cheek. He looked at Chuck. "Get some silver sulfadiazine on that," he told him as he pointed to his arm and then walked towards Rossi and the waiting SUV.

Kahlan and Chuck shared a quick look.

Hotch saw them and chuckled as he got in the passenger seat and shut the door.

'Aaron!' Kahlan text him as Rossi pulled away.

'What?'

'How the hell did you know that?'

He turned back and saw Chuck's Jeep leaving the tarmac. 'I am all knowing. You should know that by now.' He smiled as he imagined her huff.

'Then, I guess you know what I'm thinking right now, huh?'

'Yep. You're wracking your brain trying to figure out how I know what your case involved. And I'm really glad that wasn't Sarin gas that was used against you.'

No response, and he chuckled again because he could almost hear the wheels turning in her head. 'Don't strain yourself, Babe. Just accept that I will always know.'

'Uh-huh.'

'Love you,' he tried.

'Love you, too, Hun. See you when you get home.'

He smiled.