Merry Christmas! There is an endnote.
Chapter Seven:
Reid woke to a series of text messages from his team around eight o'clock. J.J. was pictured with her sons holding up the Lego sets he got them. Simmons and his kids were having breakfast with "Santa-Mickey." Rossi was playing with his grandson. It was in the best interests of the team that he stayed out of their fun.
Yawning, Reid prepared a cup of coffee. He wasn't entirely surprised when he saw a small flat gift wrapped in purple paper under the tree in his kitchen. The fruit basket came early. He wondered what it was as he unwrapped it.
It was a pocket guide to the state of Virginia. Reid flipped through the pages. In the back of the book, there were numbers written in blue ink on a blank page. He pulled out his phone. The coordinates were for a home outside Culpeper Virginia.
Reid wasn't going to take any chances. He pulled out his gun and dressed for the cool weather. It could lead him to the source of the strangeness in his life, or it could be something more sinister.
…
The modern white and brick ranch-style house was set back a distance from the others. Everything about it was neat and precise. A wreath hung over the garage door and another on the white front door. Reid didn't know what to expect.
Thinking over what to say, Reid decided to say he was looking for an estranged relative to make amends on Christmas. He rang the doorbell and waited. He hoped for answers.
No one came. This was a wild goose chase of the highest order. Someone was playing an elaborate prank on him. Reid turned his back and thought about where to get a cup of coffee.
"HELP!"
It was a woman's voice screaming.
"HELP!"
More than one.
"HELP!"
Reid was more likely to blow a door down than kick it in. He did know how to pick locks. The screaming continued. He dialed the local police while he fetched his kit.
"This is SSA Reid with the FBI. While on leisure time I am hearing distress from fifty-two Clayton Street. Please send EMTs and officers."
"Roger that. We'll get a bus on the route."
He noted there was a security system. LockSafe to be exact. Making quick work of the lock, he got in and keyed in the code used by most LockSafe systems. Most homeowners didn't change the universal code. Luck was on his side, as the alarm deactivated. He followed the sound of the screams.
The house was barely furnished and didn't look lived in. There was a set of keys by the door to the basement. Reid recognized the kind: They were commonly used for metal restraints in human trafficking. The basement was locked. Reid used his picks on the lock and prepared for the worst.
The stench hit him first. No one was allowed to use whatever plumbing in the house. He reached for the first light switch he found. Six nude women of every ethnicity, including Native American, were locked to the walls. They all looked to be in their late teens to early twenties.
"I'm Agent Reid," he said. "I'm going to help you."
"The girl in the corner is bleeding," a woman who sounded like she came from Jamaica said. "She tried to kill herself by biting herself."
The girl who looked to be of Asian descent was covered in blood from the self-inflicted bite on her shoulder. Reid quickly unlocked her restraints and covered the girl with his jacket. He ripped the lining and wadded a piece into the wound. Her eyes were slits. She barely responded to any of his actions.
"An ambulance is on the way," Reid said. "Where is your captor?"
"Spending the holidays with his sister and her children," the woman who appeared to be of Native American descent said.
Reid tightened his jacket around the girl until he was certain the makeshift bandage would hold. Then he proceeded to unlock the bonds for the women. The women cried as they fell to their knees in exhaustion.
A woman with dark skin hugged him.
"It's a Christmas miracle!" she said in accented English.
The door slammed open. Reid heard the unmistakable sound of a shotgun being loaded. The women cowered in a corner. He stood in front of them.
"I'm going to kill whoever ruined my Christmas!" a man said.
Reid pulled out his gun as the man thundered down the stairs.
A lightbulb shattered, and for a brief moment, what looked like and an angel with wings appeared. This surprised the man enough that he stumbled down the stairs.
Reid rushed forward and pushed the gun out of the man's reach. The man was in his early fifties with stringy brown hair, dressed in red and black plaid. Reid aimed his gun at the man.
"Who the Hell are you?" he growled.
"Agent Reid," he said fiercely. "Go to the wall, or I won't hesitate to shoot you."
A woman stood up weakly. "Can I chain him to the wall?"
Reid nodded and kept his gun aimed at the man. The woman shakily restrained him. Then the women took turns spitting on him.
"You're going to allow this?" the man said.
"It's a little dark in here. I can't exactly see what is going on."
"Asshole."
The door opened again. EMTs and police appeared.
"The woman wearing my jacket needs to be seen first," Reid said.
"This was a lot more than what we were expecting," an officer said. "We could use your help."
"Of course," he said.
Additional light was brought in. Reid helped apply first aid to the women. There was lots of crying, and swearing from the man whose name he learned was Drake Johnson. Reid let the women use his phone. Even more, crying ensued. These women had been missing for months from across the world. This had been a stop in a human trafficking ring. They had all been branded like meat for auction. He was happy to help.
"What were you doing out here Dr. Reid?" an officer asked.
"I received message in a gift to visit this house," Reid said as honestly as he could. "I thought a coworker had set up an elaborate surprise for me here."
The officer seemed to buy it.
The women were covered in sheets. He helped those who could walk, up the stairs. He brought the second woman to an ambulance as agents in FBI windbreakers appeared.
Reid took a moment for himself. He was covered in blood and other bodily fluids from the women and shivering. What brought him here?
He walked to his car to get a raincoat. Putting it on, he felt marginally warmer. Then he turned and saw a woman approaching him.
She had curly strawberry blond hair cut at the chin in length. She was wearing jeans and a blue fur-lined coat.
"Hello Dr. Reid," she said. "Thank you for your work."
"Who are you?" he asked.
"Agent Lydia Chase with the CIA," she said.
Lydia paused. She looked at him like he was something special to her. Like he meant the world to her.
"I'm the one behind the gifts," she burst out.
"How?" he gasped. "Why leave me a message to come here?"
"My superiors refused to take the case seriously. They said they sent the tip to the FBI task force. I checked: It wasn't flagged as important. A bunch of women of minorities meant little to them. They're more concerned about a security threat that hopefully, no one will ever know about."
"How do you know me?" he asked. "Why do all of this?"
"Because, I couldn't come to your father's funeral, but I saw how miserable you looked on the Livestream. Like nothing in the world mattered to you anymore. I had to do something."
"You're not answering my first question."
"Does the name Aaron Chase mean anything to you?"
"No."
"My father was the best man at your father's wedding. My dad went to school with yours. My dad went into the military and traveled the world. He became a JAG officer. Your dad wrote regularly to him, especially about his brilliant son."
"What about when he abandoned me?"
"The letters stopped, and my dad was stationed in Okinawa. My dad tried reaching out to your father for a couple of months, but he never responded. He intended to track down William when we arrived in the states. But he got in a motorcycle accident and died the day before we left."
"Why do you care so much about me?"
"You were a fantasy to me. My dad's best friend's son. I wanted to get to know you. I wanted to meet you once, we were adults. But my experience abroad and a few ghosts from my dad's past led to my recruitment at a young age. I only got a desk job six months ago."
"That's how you were able to access Quantico."
"Yeah."
"What now?" Reid asked.
"Have you given your statement to the police?"
"Yes."
"Why don't you go shower and we'll meet at the coffee shop in Langley? I'll answer more questions. It's the most private place in the world and open twenty-four-seven."
"That sounds good."
"See you then."
Lydia walked away.
Reid was left staring after her.
…
Reid entered his apartment with a groan. The smell of himself was getting to him. He pulled off his jacket and saw none other than Santa Clause in his house.
"Are you real?" he asked.
"If you want me to be," he said.
"It was Lydia behind the gifts."
"But for a moment you believed."
"Yes, I did. But what you in the ocean, and the light and the reindeer?"
"You don't get it, do you? This was never about me. YOU saved that boy. YOU saved your student. YOU found that man. YOU are Santa Claus. This was about getting you to believe your sense of purpose."
"So, none of it was real?"
"Oh, it was real. I am real to the people who need me. Those who need something to believe in during times of grief. To add magic so that they can see the full potential of what they have to offer to the world."
"How does Lydia figure into all of this?"
"I may have planted the idea to have fun and give hope to someone she has cared for from a distance."
Santa pulled a small gift out of his sack. It was wrapped in silver paper.
"Open it."
It was a small pink velvet box. Reid opened it and found a heart-shaped locket. He opened the locket and found a picture of a baby girl in a lilac gown.
"Is she?" Reid croaked.
"Yours, yes," Santa said.
"With Lydia?"
"I'll leave that for you to figure out."
Reid quickly put his jacket back on. He hugged Santa.
"I believe," he said.
Santa hugged him back.
"I believe in you."
There was the sound of jingle bells. Santa dissolved into a being of sparkling light that dispersed in a flash.
"Thank you," Reid whispered.
MERRY CHRISTMAS!
AN:
Not the end. The team has to come back to exchange stories. I know I'm stretching logic a little bit. But it's Christmas, cut me a break!