The elevator stopped as suddenly as it had begun.
Reid hit the floor, his arm slamming down underneath him.
"Lauren. Are you okay?" He strained to keep his voice calm, despite a sharp pain shooting up his arm.
"I'm fine."
Reid looked over at the other couple. "You?"
"I think I twisted my ankle." The woman replied.
"What the hell is going on?" Her husband barked.
A loud chirp filled the tiny room. Reid followed it to the far corner, where his phone was still in one piece.
"Reid." He answered out of habit.
"Reid." Greenway's voice came back at him. "Are you okay? Is anyone hurt?"
"A twisted ankle. I think I may have a sprained wrist. And a ton of bruises."
"They're okay." He could hear Greenway relaying the information.
"What the hell is going on?" The older man gruffly shouted.
"What was that?"
"Elle, what's going on?" Reid repeated into the phone. He listened, keeping his face still, as Greenway repeated the message they were receiving.
"Spencer, what is it?" Lauren looked at him questioningly.
Reid looked at the three of them. "Given the gravity of the situation, the only correct recourse is full and truthful discourse."
"What does that mean?" The man barked.
"My name is Doctor Spencer Reid. I am a special agent with the Federal Bureau of Investigations. The people I have been talking to are also agents. We work for the Behavioral Analysis Unit at Quantico." Reid paused. He knew the next words out of his mouth were going to be the hardest ones to hear.
"And?"
"And we are being held hostage by a suspect that wants ten million dollars and a private jet out of the country or he's going to drop the elevator another five floors every half hour until it reaches the tenth floor."
"What happens when it reaches the tenth floor?" The woman asked nervously.
"He lets it drop all the way to the bottom."