AN: Many aren't going to like this chapter.
Chapter Three:
Beth
Claudia Joubert lived in California, which suited my needs as most of my other interview subjects lived in the West.
I reviewed what Gideon told me on the plane ride where I rode coach as the budget wasn't that big. It sounded like a charmed childhood. Growing up being passed around by members of the BAU. Learning three languages at once. Overhearing snippets of clandestine communications. He was obsessed with the Smithsonian at a young age and once tried to "run away from home" to the modern art one. It was a happy life.
But Reid and Roberta knew things were going to change. They were both being pressured to become players in what came next. He was sent to live with Roberta's family in an ex-pat outpost in Nova Scotia. His smile faltered during that part.
Reid and Roberta visited separately every few months, but he missed them horribly. During that time though he developed a better understanding of heritage through his interaction with the first nation residents. He accepted as an adult the price for being a product of two talented adults was a conventional childhood.
I closed the file. Claudia should fill me in more about how Reid was roped back into BAU life. At the time, he maintained the status of being part of the FBI as he still taught seminars frequently.
This part was going to be hard. I was only a year old my dad had just got called up to join the human trafficking task force. I needed to separate my emotions from what I was about to learn.
…
Claudia was a petite woman in her mid-seventies. Her smile was kind but not as flashy as Gideon's. Her white hair was cut short. Dressed in cream colors, she still looked like she could blend into any background if she felt like it.
We settled into her sunroom. Tasteful artwork was hung on the walls and the floor was covered in a beige carpet.
"Miss. Stone, I do hope you're ready for what I'm about to share with you."
I tested the camera and adjusted it to face her.
"I am," I said bravely. "What do you want to the world about Spencer Reid?"
"The truth," she said and flashed a sad smile.
Claudia:
It was August of 2022 and Prentiss was driving me to the Galloway Pub.
"Is his wife really a spy?" I asked.
Prentiss smiled. "A damn good one too. I didn't know when I met her years earlier."
We pulled up to the building. It had a brick exterior with a massive stained-glass window with the pub's name inlaid in a decorative script with a profile of the Cliffs of Mohr etched in the base.
"Neat place," I said.
"You should see the inside."
We got out of the car and walked inside. The first thing I noticed was the smell of fish and chips and a mild hint of body odor. Irish music played in the background. Looking around, there was wall-to-wall polished wood. There were green leather high-top chairs at the two bar areas and matching green booths.
A woman dressed in plaid with a mop of red curls greeted us.
"Good afternoon, Emily. The upstairs room is all set for you. There's water, wine, and bar food. Can I get anything special for your guest?"
"Water is fine," I said.
"Then call when you're ready for lunch," she said. "Enjoy."
I followed Emily to the back of the bar. We climbed the stairs and entered a room.
Literary quotes and illustrations of Ireland's most distinguished landmarks covered the walls. A widescreen TV hung in the corner. There were two tables surrounded by plush green leather chairs. It was a cozy place.
Reid appeared with Roberta. Roberta somehow looked stunning in a simple plaid jumper. Reid was dressed in purple.
Prentiss, Reid, and Roberta exchanged hugs.
"This is Claudia," Prentiss introduced me.
I waved. I knew from his file Reid didn't like hugging strangers. He smiled in return.
A cigar box was on the table. Everyone knew what to do and put their phones in it without saying a word. Reid snapped the lid shut.
"Can we put on the TV?" I asked as we sat down.
"Don't worry lass," Roberta said. "I have a rowdy businessman's lunch playing for anyone listening."
"You really are a spy," I said before I could stop myself.
"Guilty as charged in at least three countries," she said with a wink.
"You'll never get a straight answer out of her," Reid said.
"I think it's four if you want to check," Prentiss said.
"That you know of," Roberta said daringly.
"So, Reid," Prentiss said. "Have you thought of what we've asked?"
"Do you really think I'm leadership material?" he asked.
"Now more than ever," she replied.
"What about Alvez or Simmons?"
"Alvez is working on the inside. Simmons has made it clear since Rose Mary nearly died, he wants no part of law enforcement life, but is eager to maintain the pub as a safe house."
"What of my-our Gideon," he said as he touched Roberta's hand.
Prentiss took a deep breath. "Reid, you can read the writing on the wall even better than I can. Awful doesn't begin to describe what is coming. Everything we love about this country is going to come under siege. It already has in some places. I don't want to ask you to sacrifice time with your son, but I don't see a way for things to work out with you on the sidelines. I take no pleasure in asking this of you."
Reid turned to Roberta. "You want this, don't you?"
She wouldn't look at him. "I've been happier than I thought I'd be as a wife and business owner. But eventually, I'm going to need more. I have been planning for this. I know a safe place to keep Gid."
He looked genuinely conflicted. I knew everything about him from his file from the number of times he was shot, along with what Emily shared about his drug addiction.
"Keep me informed," he said. "I don't want to be in the field until the day I'm needed."
"That's fair," Prentiss said. "This is where you come in Claudia."
"My dad got me a job in the mail room at Quantico out of college," I said. "I've been climbing the administrative ranks and now I am the executive administrative assistant to the Director of the FBI."
"How do you know the next administration won't have you sacked and the director replaced?" Reid asked.
"Any good assistant knows how to make themselves indispensable. I have a good relationship with the office manager, who will vouch for the fact that directors need me for everything from making coffee to securing briefings. I also survived transitions during the Trump administration."
"I hope you're prepared for worse," Roberta said.
"Oh, I am," I said with a confident smile.
"How did you get mixed up in all of this?" Reid asked.
"Jack Garret's wife is a dear second cousin of mine. During a baseball game after the IRT was disbanded, he asked if I was willing to betray my country's leadership to save it from itself. I didn't hesitate. I see the book banning, Roe being overturned recently, and rights being trampled. This country is sick. I want to help it."
"Then I think we're settled," Roberta said and stood up. "Now tell me, Claudia, do you like American football?"
"I'm a hopeless Browns fan," I said.
"Excellent," she said happily. "I have an encrypted fantasy draft app. Enter a message on the app and it will translate into fantasy gibberish on your phone."
"But what if there is an emergency?" I asked. "What if I'm caught?"
"I have a special gift for you regarding that," she said and opened a picture of James Joyce. She pulled out a jewelry box and opened it to reveal a simple gold heart-shaped locket.
She presented it to me. "Clutch this tightly and it will destabilize any electronic transmissions long enough for Garcia to hack the system. It's light enough it won't set off metal detectors. Only use it in the event of an emergency."
"Where did you get this tech?" I asked almost disbelievingly. "Q from James Bond?"
"It's not that complicated," she said dismissively. "I commissioned it. And the real Q is such a terrible poker player I question how he maintains his clearances."
Reid smiled at his wife as Emily exchanged a quick look with me. I didn't think there was such a thing as both could be the brains of a relationship.
"Is there anything left to discuss?" Reid asked.
"Nothing here," Prentiss said.
Roberta pulled out a bottle of Jameson and shot glasses. She expertly poured some in each.
"To America," she said.
"To the future," Prentiss said.
"To the dreams of children, especially ours," Reid said.
"To doing the right thing," I said.
We all clinked glasses. We looked at one another with weak smiles. We were glad to be together but dreaded what came next.
…
Three years later I was driving with Roberta.
"Always keep your lights on at night," she said as I drove. "An unwanted cop might notice that. Watch the mirrors but never take your eyes off the road."
"Thanks for helping me with this," I said.
"They say the best way to build one's skills is through teaching others."
We arrived at what looked like a basic new-built Tudor-style home alone at the top of a hill. The grass was still sprouting and the vegetation still showed signs of being recently planted. It looked nice and new.
Roberta checked her phone. "Your phone is still at your boyfriend's house as planned."
"Great," I said.
I parked in the driveway and knocked on the door three times.
Tara Lewis greeted us with a warm smile. "Come in."
Like the exterior, the interior looked as though it was still being put together. There were no wall hangings and boxes were strewn everywhere I could see. The furniture wasn't fully arranged. It was a place of transition.
Tara led us to the butler's pantry and beckoned us inside. There were only a couple of boxes of cereal. Lewis pulled open what looked like a utility panel and pressed some buttons. I jumped when we moved upwards.
"Okay, my husband may have had too much fun designing this house," Roberta said.
Lewis opened the door and we found ourselves in a massive space. From the shape of the walls, it looked like we were in the attic.
"I didn't think the house was this big," I said.
Morgan appeared. "It's just creative architecture and color blocking from the outside. We call this base of operations the TARDIS."
"I see why," I said with a laugh.
Reid was at a college lecture-size whiteboard. The BAU composed of Morgan, J.J., Rossi, Lewis, Prentiss, Garcia, and Alvez along with Roberta was assembled around it. The names of all the team members past and present were on it with circles around them and branches leading to other names.
"My family is secure," he said. "My dad is at peace with what happens to him. J.J.'s family is living with her mother. Morgan's family is in Chicago. The Rossi's are in a secure neighborhood in California. Hotch is leading a group in New England. Simmons is secure. The Mendozas are in boulder. The Lewis's are secure. The Callahans are in New York. Seaver is safe abroad. That is most of the main players."
"Nice work Reid," Prentiss said.
"So, Claudia, who do you need help with protecting?" he asked.
"How many people can you cover?" I asked. "I have a big family."
"That a complicated-Emily what are you looking at?"
Roberta forcibly grabbed Reid and me and pushed us to the elevator.
"What going on?" I shouted.
"No!" Reid shouted at the same time.
Roberta flung him in the elevator and pushed me in. The chamber fell so fast I screamed as a massive sound filled the room.
"NO! NO! NO!" Reid screamed.
She opened a panel and dragged Reid out into the cool air. I followed as I didn't know what else to do.
I looked back and gasped. Most of the house was burning rubble. Only the foundation where we came from tucked in the hill was secure.
"You shouldn't have saved me!" Reid said and aimed a hand at his wife.
Roberta caught it easily. She knocked him to the ground and kicked him a few times. I began to feel scared.
"This isn't what it looks like," she said to me. "I am literally knocking sense into him."
She approached me and I took a step back.
"Emily's been having some suspicions about her boyfriend Andrew being a traitor," Roberta said intensely. "This was our fourth group meeting so I thought we were in the clear. If it came to it, she told me to rescue Spencer. Andrew tried to save her just now and I saw the signal."
I looked at Reid sobbing on the ground.
"You could have taken one of them," I said. "I'm not that important."
Roberta put her hands on my shoulders. "You will be one day. Now I need you to go home."
"What about Reid?" as she tried to move me.
"There are protocols," she said. "He'll follow them when he's ready."
Reid's sobs filled my ears as walked around what was left of the blazing house. My car was in perfect shape miraculously it seemed as I later learned it was by design.
"Nine-one-one is still four minutes away. Go home as we planned. Your initials are the only things in any record. Go home and I'll be in touch."
I shakily got in my car. "Thank you," I gasped.
Roberta didn't watch me leave.
Beth:
I had no words for a few minutes as I stared at her.
"You escaped two bombings," I said.
"I don't consider myself to be lucky," she said seriously. "No one knew I was at the BAU safehouse bombing. Bad luck."
"How did Reid recover to lead?"
"I don't know truthfully. Roberta was built for this life so I do believe she was kinder to him once he calmed down. I think it solidified his resolve to fight."
"How do you live with that kind of guilt?"
Claudia stood up. "That is for someone else to learn."
She opened a drawer in a curio cabinet and pulled out a stack of boxes.
"I want you to take them back to DC with you," she said. "I don't want them."
I recognized the design of the boxes: Presidential Medal of Freedom. Congressional Medal of merit. It also looked like a slew of other awards.
"What about your family?" I asked.
"They know how I feel and want what I want. Take them and put them where they can gather dust in perpetuity in DC as opposed to here until I die and my children have to clean them out."
"Ma'am," I said.
"I wake up every day trying to block out Spencer Reid's sobs. I wake up and try to make sure I am still worth saving."
I nodded. This story kept getting more and more tragic.