Eᴘɪsᴏᴅᴇ: Pʀᴇ Sᴇᴀsᴏɴ 1
I fiddled with my hands nervously, sitting at Shepard's desk with my stomach doing flips and even as I avoided meeting his eyes, I could feel him scrutinising me. He hadn't spoken a word since I entered and my anxiety was running wild imagining what he could have called me in for. As far as I was aware, I hadn't done anything that would require a reprimand and I couldn't imagine that he would be requesting to see me for any level of helpful mentoring.
"We need this consultation with the BAU wrapped up quickly. Our teams here have plenty of cases that require your attention." He began, his voice sharp as he addressed my liaison with the BAU and his dissatisfaction at them requesting my assistance was abundantly clear.
"Vidal believes that he can assist in speeding up the process. I'm assigning him alongside you." He clarified, beginning to flip through other paperwork disinterestedly and I felt my eyes grow wide at this instruction.
"That won't be necessary, Sir. As you said, we're already busy with our own cases and I'm sure that Vidal would be missed. I can manage this consultation on my own." I answered, feeling a lump rising in my throat as I spoke.
This was the last position that I wanted to find myself in, caught between two people who intimidated me and I had to stand my ground to protect myself from the person who I felt to be an actual threat to my safety.
"That wasn't a request, Hawthorne." Shepard glanced back up at me irritably, his expression one of sheer disbelief and I chewed on my lip anxiously.
"Vidal is incredibly experienced and one of very few people in this office who would voluntarily support you with a case, as I'm sure you are aware. It would be unwise to refuse your only ally." He grilled, studying me curiously and I sighed as I struggled to find the words to address my predicament.
"I'm sure that he is a very skilled agent, Sir. However, I would prefer not to work in his company, especially alone." I stated in a small voice, feeling insecurity creeping up on me from the intense manner that he was watching me.
Shepard tilted his head in surprise, as if he couldn't imagine anyone, much less a woman, declining the offer to work with Vidal and I shook my head. It was typical for a man with such a superiority complex to be oblivious to the way that Vidal made women feel, but no less frustrating to encounter.
"I don't want to take this any further, Sir. I am trying to be professional and to make choices that will allow me to work to the best of my ability. Vidal's behaviour is inappropriate enough to absolutely be considered as harassment and instead of reporting it, I am saving him the embarrassment of such an accusation by simply requesting that our assignments are kept separate." I elaborated, making every effort to ensure that my tone didn't sound the least bit like a threat, but rather a peace offering. Every word that I spoke drained me of courage, but I forced myself to continue and Shepard thinned his eyes at me in disapproval.
"Do you have any idea how much paperwork a report of that nature would cause me? Not to mention that it would destroy the man's career." He stated accusingly, as if the entire issue were my fault and I struggled to maintain my strength in the face of his judgement. Of course he would blame me for inconveniencing him, rather than the person who was actually causing the problem.
"I cannot abide two agents in my team that can't be assigned together. We are all adults here, dealing with matters of national security. This is not a classroom. You need to figure this out between you. You can make a start on that during this case." He added firmly, unwilling to compromise on his earlier instruction, as if I hadn't just reached out to him for help in a completely reasonable manner and I furrowed my brows in confusion.
"And if I file an official complaint, instead?" I suggested carefully, burying the terror that I felt for his reaction and for a few moments, the room fell silent as he scowled at me.
The air around me felt hot, my clothes suffocating as I battled with the anxiety that screamed in the face of his doubt. It wasn't the first time that I hadn't been believed, but it was every bit as heart-breaking as it had been when I was a teenager.
"Hawthorne. You didn't earn this position. You were sent here against our advice and have been incredibly fortunate to find yourself in a job, instead of a cell. Consider very carefully whether you wish to make an enemy of me."
- O - O - O - O - O -
If I rolled my eyes any harder, I was pretty sure that they would disappear into the back of my head, never to be seen again.
Vidal had made himself entirely comfortable both in my office and the video call with the BAU, and I could hardly get a word in edgeways between his supposedly expert opinions. His presence was suffocating, as he always chose to work within my personal space and there was no effective way of containing him to a single part of the room.
The strain was clear even in the rest of the team, who already seemed tired by his overbearing suggestions and general disregard of anyone else's opinion. It was painfully clear how little he thought of our American counterparts and I began to realise that he had little regard for the science of behavioural analysis at all.
I rubbed at my temples in an effort to concentrate, feeling immensely distracted by my own stress and was acutely aware that each and every minute that we wasted lowered the chances of ever recovering these girls alive. I almost jumped out of my seat at the sudden contact on my face and found that Vidal was pushing back my hair, his body alarmingly close to mine.
"Try not to stress, ma poupée. It would be a terrible crime to cause wrinkles in such a pretty face." He muttered in a manner that I was sure he intended to be seductive, but unintentionally revealed a level of misogyny that caused a wave of disgust to pass through my entire body.
Addressing me as a doll was a frightening insight into how he saw me, as a fragile inanimate object that he could possess and a shiver ran down my spine at the thought.
"People are suffering. I have every right to be stressed if I want to!" I spat in frustration, fidgeting to create as much space between us as I could, which was limited as I was trapped between him and the wall.
Everything about the way that he interacted with me felt like a trap and my reactions were often similar to that of a caged animal.
"Any luck with the interviews of the first two girls?" I enquired, as I addressed the webcam and the team seemed equally as frazzled by what they had just witnessed as I felt.
"We tried guiding them through a cognitive interview, but they weren't able to recover any memories." Morgan explained evenly, his tone seeming distracted and I sighed in disappointment. "Toxicology indicates that they were dosed with rohypnol. They also found some traces of chloroform on their skin. The unsubs must be using the chloroform to subdue them. They might even use it a second time to ensure that they don't wake up when they're being taken to the dump site. They're planning ahead for these girls to be released, but they don't want to take any chances that they could guide us to wherever they are holding them."
"You believe there to be something that connects these girls, oui? Have you investigated their employment records?" Vidal interrogated and I battled to keep myself from rolling my eyes again.
Though I had no doubt that he could be useful, his lack of faith in the team meant that rather than lending us his expertise, he was attempting to make us rehash steps that had already been completed at the beginning of the investigation and I tired of his implied judgement.
"I have dug into every aspect of these girls' lives. There's absolutely nothing that links them together. It's like they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time." I answered thoughtfully, staring at the data with desperation and felt as if I were missing something glaringly obvious.
"Perhaps it is as simple as chance. The suspect simply has chosen a hunting ground and is taking any woman who crosses it alone?" Vidal suggested, completely disregarding all of the profiling that had been done this far and I couldn't bring myself to address his ignorance again. Fortunately, Reid cleared his throat and cleaned closer to the webcam.
"Typically, this type of offender would not leave his selection of victims completely to chance. When dealing with a sexual sadist, the fantasy is a core factor of their MO. Who they target is every part as important as the act itself. Due to the deviation in victimology, it's highly probable that we are looking for a multi ethnicity group." Reid explained, rescuing me from having to explain again that there was more to profiling than simply theorising at random and I was relieved when he continued, allowing me a few moments of peace from Vidal's invasive suggestions.
"Statistically, only 17% of sexual sadists will choose to work alongside another person. They wouldn't want to risk someone else ruining the fantasy. These unsubs defy almost all regular patterns for this type of crime."
"Is it possible that is because you people are looking for the wrong type of person, hmm?" Vidal accused, looking directly at the camera with disdain and I bit my lip in an effort to contain my anger at his attitude.
"Who is to say what kind of sexual preference these sick men would have? They could have an interest in women of many kinds. Why only pursue one kind of woman, when you can conquer them all, non? You are limiting your options based on the opinion of one young man!" He ranted, indicating towards Reid dismissively and I felt my patience snap.
"Doctor Reid has not formed his opinion based on his own imagination. These statistics come from in depth studies of these types of offenders and are our best tool for identifying who it is that could commit a crime of this nature." I snapped, sitting up to view him with frustration and he widened his eyes at me as I fell into a rant.
"It is absolutely counterproductive to simply guess at circumstances, rather than using the evidence that is before us. Each and every detail is a piece of the puzzle, some more important than others. This team are the experts at identifying them, such as the fact that not all the victims are white indicating multiple unsubs, one of which is also not white, so I would suggest that you learn from them, Vidal. It is a known fact that sexual predators almost never offend outside of their own race. Look it up!" I lectured, my words falling out in a bitter tone before I could stop myself and he simply stared back at me in complete shock.
"Excuse me." I blurted in embarrassment.
I could feel the eyes of the team on me as even the room that they sat in fell silent and my cheeks flushed with heat at my blatant defence of Reid specifically. My gaze automatically sought him out, noticing that he seemed particularly shocked and even bashful at the attention, only worsening my humiliation. I jumped to my feet instinctively and rushed from the room to calm myself.
- O - O - O - O - O -
The last few months had been intensely stressful, as I struggled to balance the importance of keeping my job and keeping my sanity. I knew that I couldn't approach Shepard for help again. If anything, I worried that would only cause him to schedule me to work with Vidal more, as he seemed to be under the impression that exposure to each other would solve the problem, when in reality it was only worsening the situation.
My anxiety felt constant and it was invading my dreams on a regular basis. Most of the time, I had the sensation that I was being watched, even when at home and I didn't seem to be able to shake it.
A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts and I turned sharply to find an unfamiliar woman standing in the doorway to my office. She was brunette and pretty, with a kind expression and I couldn't help noticing how starkly she contrasted with any members of my assigned teams. Though she had a strength about her, everything in her demeanour seemed warm and welcoming in a way that stood out in our often cold working environment.
"Sorry. I hope I'm not interrupting." She wore a friendly smile as she stepped into the room and I remained suspiciously wary of her, unsure what she could want from me. "I have a search that I need doing, but all of my techs seem to have gone home for the night. Yours was the only office with the light still on."
"Oh, yeah. Habit. I pretty much live here nowadays." I answered awkwardly, feeling as if I were being lured into some kind of trap as I'd grown accustomed to being shunned by everyone. The appearance of a random stranger who addressed me like any other person seemed entirely too good to be true.
"What can I do for you?" I asked, prompting her to hand me a piece of paper with a list of criteria.
I turned back to my desk and began setting up the parameters on my various systems, feeling relieved to focus on work rather than the way that she studied me with interest. It occurred to me how unusual it was for anyone else to be in the office at this time of night and began to wonder if she was simply a workaholic, or if she was avoiding something too.
"I, umm...I actually hoped that I would get a chance to speak to you at some point, Hawthorne." She admitted, settling herself against the wall to ensure that she left me plenty of personal space and I glanced at her questioningly over my shoulder. The fact that she'd taken the time to learn my name before coincidentally bumping into me as the last person in the office made the hairs on my arms stand on end.
"I'm working with a new agent who was transferred to my team recently and I'm led to believe that the two of you are close. His name is Étienne Vidal."
My stomach instinctively lurched at the name and as I could feel her analysing my reactions, I battled to keep my nerves hidden. Thoughts raced through my mind as I struggled to decide how to address this and part of me was curious as to exactly what was being said around the office about him and I.
"I wouldn't explain it that way." I muttered, fidgeting in my seat and the other agent thinned her eyes at me. "I've worked a few cases with him and he's a very friendly man, but I really wouldn't say that I know him at all." I answered dismissively as I returned my attention to printing out the results that she had requested and she sighed thoughtfully, allowing us to fall into silence for a few moments whilst I worked.
"You're not the only one to describe him as friendly. There are several women across his previous teams who have used the same words. Some even say overly-friendly." She explained carefully and I avoided meeting her eyes as I considered this.
"It doesn't seem like any higher management is interested in addressing it. I would report it myself, but thanks to my family background he's always appropriate with me. None of the others are confident enough to talk about it openly. All I need is for one woman to speak up and I could protect them all." She added, her voice growing passionate as she spoke and I rushed to grab the results sheet, passing it to her with a weak smile.
"I wish that I could help, but as I said, I don't really know him." I responded firmly, holding my ground against the prying conversation and she smiled sympathetically at me as she took the paper. Straightening up, she pulled a card from her pocket and handed it to me.
"If you think of anything that could be useful, my line is always available." She emphasised, her kind eyes boring into my face as I stared at the card, feeling immediately conflicted.
Although I desperately wanted for the harassment to stop, I was afraid of the power that Shepard held over my life and knew all too well the dangers of rejecting men like Vidal. Subconsciously, I ran a finger along the scar on my lip and flinched at the memory that popped into my mind.
"Prentiss?" I called after the woman, reading her name from the card and she paused in the doorway to look back at me. "Thank you. It will help these women a lot to know that somebody cares."
- O - O - O - O - O -
I rubbed at my eyes as I battled to stay awake and flicked the page on my calendar to July. Two months had passed since Prentiss began quietly investigating Vidal and things were only continuing to grow worse. He'd progressed from leaving flowers in my office, to just last night having them delivered to my apartment and as a result, I'd been unable to sleep.
The entire night had passed with me staring at the door in a state of terror and I was already beginning to recognise signs of hypervigilance in my behaviour. I knew that I was spiralling as a result of my past trauma, but felt completely powerless to stop it and had already considered running away many times.
An alert popped up on my computer and the moment that I clicked it, Penelope's smiling face filled my screen in a video call.
"Well, hello my little pumpkin pie! I am here on your screen as the ultimate bearer of wonderful news!" She declared, her enthusiasm soothing my nerves and encouraging a rare smile from me. "We have a case that requires your expertise and our very snazzy leader has pulled enough strings to have you assigned to it."
"Another consultation? I'm sure Shepard will be delighted." I remarked, pushing back my scruffy hair from my face and feeling immediately stressed at the idea that Shepard might punish me simply for being requested again. I glanced back up at the screen nervously and noticed that her expression only grew more smug.
"Au contraire, mon chérie. Even Interpol's own Satan can't stop this one. The request for our help has come from the top military brass and they've demanded that we bring the best. And when it comes to abductions, that's you. So pack your bags, Beautiful, because you're coming to visit." She announced, waving her hands around in a little cheer and I stared back at her in disbelief. She was clearly confident in the arrangements to be presenting it in this manner, but I couldn't imagine for a moment that Shepard would allow me out of his sight.
"I hate to break it to you, Nels, but Shepard will never release me for duty." I advised regretfully as I fidgeted in my seat, wishing that I could seize the opportunity to get as far from this office for a couple of days, but instead of looking discouraged, Penelope beamed.
"Shepard, Schmepard. It's already been authorised by his superior's superior." She flaunted, seeming thoroughly impressed with herself and I felt my mouth drop open in shock. I couldn't believe that anyone would bother going to such lengths simply to secure my services and failed to even form a response.
"Can I get a ding dong, the witch is dead?! Now, I hope you took Hotch's advice and packed a go back because you have a plane to catch. We'll see you there!"
- O - O - O - O - O -
It felt strange to say that a sleeping pill induced semi-coma that spanned across two flights was the best sleep that I'd had in months, but it was true. For the first time in ages, I didn't have to worry about anyone following me and the relief of knowing that, at least for a short time, I was out of Interpol's reach was incredible.
Unlike my previous visit where I was accompanied by a team, I was taken to my hotel first and given the opportunity to shower, change my clothes and generally make myself presentable, before having to meet the team at a nearby military base.
I changed into a pair of dark grey, checked capri trousers, a plum coloured turtleneck top and my trusty black, high top converses. Though I would deny it if ever questioned, knowing that I would likely see Reid again motivated me to apply slightly more makeup than usual in an effort to conceal the months of sleep deprivation that I'd endured and I pulled my long, brunette hair into a half up, half down style, before adding a small ribbon to the back.
Penelope called to confirm that I had now passed the necessary security checks to be allowed onto the base and that a driver was being sent to collect me as we spoke. I rushed to pack a small satchel with my glasses, phone and a few other necessary bits, grabbed the case full of equipment that I'd travelled with and made my way down to the foyer to meet my driver.
Flying into California instead of meeting the team in Virginia had extended my flight time by a fair amount, but also allowed me to arrive not far behind them. I knew that I could count on Penelope to have already made a start on securing us with a work space, after she had briefed me that the leading sergeant had insisted that access to their systems could only be granted on site. It seemed strange to know that even Penelope had been bought along because of this, but at least it reassured me that I was right to have been included in joining them here.
A young agent met me in the hotel reception, taking my case as he led me to a large black SUV that practically screamed FBI. I hopped into the back, feeling too awkward to ride shotgun with a stranger and the agent remained professionally quiet on the journey whilst I busied myself with studying the case files again.
Inwardly, I was on edge, as I knew that the stakes of this case were especially high when dealing with someone as powerful as the father of our missing girl and I hoped that I would be able to meet the team's expectations of me.
The face of the victim stared up at me from the photo, tugging on my heartstrings. She was only thirteen years old, raised in a military family without a mother and now, she had been taken by someone who seemed to have a grudge against her father. It made me furious to see children blamed for the choices of adults and as I felt a fire burning in my stomach, I knew one thing for certain; I would do everything in my power to bring this girl home.