Rossi walked through the busy bullpen and up the stairs where he stopped by Hotch's office. "Did someone forget to give me the memo?"
"What memo?" Hotch asked.
"It seems like everyone is here super early today. Is there a reason for that?"
"Shut the door," Hotch said.
Rossi closed the door then turned to see Hotch moving a chair from his desk and motioned for Rossi to sit on the couch. "What's going on, Aaron?"
"Are you still close with Major Grant?"
"Yeah, we keep in touch. We share a stogie from time to time."
"Would he be able to do you a favor? Look into something for you?" Hotch asked.
"Depends on what it was," Rossi said.
Hotch held his breath for a moment. "Reid and Alex were here all night with Garcia. They believe Charles Sullivan may still be alive."
Rossi leaned back on the sofa and nodded to himself in contemplation. "I take it that Strauss hasn't been abreast of the situation."
"No, she hasn't, and I hope for their sake it stays that way."
Alex quietly entered the auditorium style classroom and sat in an empty seat in the back of the room. Students were peppered among the seats, and all focused on their professor giving a talk about a Roman emperor.
"So, here is Nero, well-aware everything is coming to a horrible conclusion. He plans to commit suicide and says 'Qualis Artifex pereo', which means 'What an artist dies in me.'" Hugh paused as he noticed Alex. He looked down to the floor then back up to his students. "And that's where I will leave it for now. We will hear about Nero's death and the end of the Julio-Claudian dynasty next week when we also learn about Galba and the year of the Four Emperors. For those of you who've had the stomach bug going around don't forget that your extension ends on Friday! And I am still missing assignments from some of you!"
Alex rose from her seat and started down the steps. She stopped at the bottom step. "Professor Barlow. You know, that title suits you."
"And married life suits you," he said.
The two walked to each other and embraced. He pulled back from her while his hands remained on her upper arms. "It is wonderful to see you. However, I am sure that this impromptu meeting isn't simply a social call."
Alex let out a deep breath. "It's not."
They moved into Hugh's office. He closed the door behind them and locked it. He placed his books on his desk, then seated himself on the small sofa in the corner of the room.
Alex sat down next to him and collected her thoughts for a moment, then spoke. "I know this is going to sound crazy, and I'm not quite sure how to tell you.
"Does it have to do with Charles?" Hugh asked.
Alex's face dropped. "What do you know?"
"It was more a feeling than anything else," Charles said.
"What, like some kind of sixth sense?" Alex asked.
"No, nothing like that." He got up from the sofa and made his way to the desk. He opened the lower desk drawer and pulled out a tin box and an envelope. "A few weeks ago, this was left on my desk."
"Tea?" Alex questioned.
"My favorite kind of tea. The card simply said, 'I thought you would enjoy some.' It wasn't signed except for what looked like an Aztec symbol. My first thought went to Charles. He knew this is my favorite kind, and he would often gift me some for special occasions. I allowed myself one moment to hope that it was from him, but then I had to convince myself that it was simply impossible for him to give it to me. I then settled on the fact that it was given to me by one of my students."
"I believe Charles is alive and is sending us clues," she said.
"What kind of clues?"
Alex explained the events that transpired and the connections that she made with them. "Now do you understand why I would hop on a jet and fly all this way to discuss this with you? It's too much not to ignore."
Hugh stared at the floor for a moment then abruptly stood up. "Alright. We have a lot to do and a short time to do it."
"Do what?"
"Will your plans allow you to remain here another day or so?"
"Yes, but what for?"
"If I am going with you then I need to get a few things in order. I have to cancel classes and I need to get us a ride."
"So, this means you're coming with me?"
"You think I'm going to let you solve this alone? He's my friend, too, and I will assist him in any way I am able to ensure his safe return."
"What kind of ride are you talking about?" Alex asked.
"I know someone who owns a jet and owes me a favor."
At Quantico the team had been working tirelessly for a few days on the cases mailed to Reid. Hotch sat in his office looking at the list of names Alex and Reid had Garcia looking into. He put it down on his desk then stood up. Hotch stepped out of his office and stood next to the railing as he looked out over the bullpen. "Prentiss," he said.
She turned to see that he was already heading back into his office.
"What is that about?" JJ asked.
"I have no idea," Prentiss said as she stood up and walked up the stairs. "Hotch?" she asked as she stood in the doorway.
"Shut the door, please."
Prentiss did, then sat across him at the desk. "Is everything okay?"
"You're still in communication with Detective Cooper from New York, right?"
"Yes, I see him and his family from time to time," she said.
"Would he be able to do a favor for you? Would he be able to look into something discreetly?"
"Yes, I believe so. What is it?"
"What I am about to tell you must not leave this room."
"Understood."
Morgan approached JJ, who was staring up at Hotch's office. "So, what's going on in there?"
"I'm not sure. He called her in there, and they shut the door," she said.
The door opened, and Hotch and Prentiss came down the stairs to the rest of the team. "We are heading out and will be debriefed on the jet. Wheels up in thirty."
Alex climbed up the airstairs, following Hugh into the jet. She tossed her overnight bag onto the seat and let out a yawn and stretched her arms in the air.
"Not enough sleep last night?" Hugh asked.
"I slept. I just don't think I rested well. I have just been so worried about Charles."
"Well, we will be in the air for about twelve hours. You should be able to catch up on some rest."
"Yeah, because I always sleep so well on planes," she joked.
"I seem to recall that one time in Germany when you fell asleep on that train and were snoring so loudly I could hear you from the other car."
"I don't snore," Alex protested.
"On that day you did," he replied. "I don't blame you. You were up for forty-eight hours beforehand. Go ahead, look around. Find a comfortable spot."
Alex stood in the middle of the private jet, taking in all its grandeur. She walked past the sofa to look at the sizeable flat-screened monitor mounted overhanging the swiveled chairs. She seated herself in one of the large chairs and moved open the armrest to reveal hidden compartments. "What are these for?"
"They're ice chests."
"Naturally, that's in case the steward isn't available to handle our order while dealing with all the other guests." Alex motioned toward the empty cabin.
"I'm going to check in with the captain," Hugh said.
"Do not be a backseat driver!" Alex said, then got up to explore more of the jet. She noticed a few small compartments against the wall at the rear of the cabin and started opening them. Her eyes widened as she saw the snacks hidden away. She reached in and pulled out a bag of peanut butter pretzels.
"You should be careful, some people may be allergic to those," a British voice said from the entrance.
Alex whipped around, then dropped the bag on the ground. "You have got to be kidding me!" she exclaimed. "Roman!" She rushed to him and threw her arms around him. "It's been what—how many years?"
"At least ten," he replied in his Birmingham accent.
She looked up to him and held her hand against her forehead then moved across to touch him at his chin. "And you sure have grown since I've last seen you."
"Well, I was just a child then." He removed his black pork pie hat and flipped in around between the palm of his hands then tossed it onto the nearby chair.
"What are you even doing here?"
Roman moved to the seat next to his hat and sat down. "I think Hugh should explain it."
"Explain what?" Hugh asked as he came back from the cockpit.
"Alex wanted to know why I was here," Roman said.
Hugh seated himself across from the hat and motioned for Alex to sit next to him. "Naturally, when I moved to London, I kept in contact with some of our… contacts."
"That's a nice way of putting it," Roman said. "MI6 was aware of Mr. Barlow leaving the CIA and his subsequent move to London. He might have been instrumental in some fact-finding for the agency from time to time."
Alex looked at Hugh. "And here I was thinking that you hung up your spy suit to become a professor and all the while you were playing James Bond with The Centurion," Alex said in joyful awe.
Roman smirked. "I haven't been called that in a while. I missed it."
Alex reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "As much as I love this little reunion, this still doesn't answer my question."
Hugh swiveled in his chair to face Alex. "There is obviously something more here going on than the possibility of Charles being alive and reaching out to us. Yes, I have done some work for MI6 but don't let that fool you, I have been out of the game for a long time. We are going to need help, and Paul Roman is the right man for the job."
Alex turned back to Roman. "You mean beanpole over here is going to be of some help to us?" she said with a wink. "Look, with all honesty. I think it's a bit ambitious to have MI6 working on something that simply piqued my curiosity."
Roman leaned back in his chair. "MI6 is not going with you; I am. Paul. I took a leave of absence to visit my friend in the states. Besides, you never know when you are going to need a man of my talents. Who else has contacts everywhere?"
"What about the jet?" Alex questioned.
"It's mine," Roman said. "I own it."
"How much money are you making over there?"
"It's not that. I have helped to develop a few things, and I patented them."
"Well, I will know who to turn to when I'm strapped for cash," she teased.
"Don't worry, when next we go for a curry, I will buy."
"You better believe it."