TITLE: Criminal Minds – "Darkest Days" (A sequel to Behind the Mask)

AUTHOR: D M Harper

SUMMARY: Agent Prentiss is forced to face her secretive past when it threatens the safety of her BAU colleagues and her beloved family.

RATING: For Mature Readers.

DISCLAIMER: This story was conjured up for reading entertainment only. No money has exchanged hands or bank accounts. There is no profit gained, just fancy flights of imagination. There is no intention to infringe on the copyright of CBS Television Studios or creator Jeff Davis. This writing does feature consensual sexual interaction between two females, so if you are underage or unable to view due to restrictions in your part of the world, be gone and take my sympathy with you. If you find such material offensive, too bad, so sad, you chose to enter this web site of your own free will; hence you have no one to whine to except yourself or a parent if you are caught, so bugger off!

A/N: Please find them time to review and feed the Muse. Thank you to the readers who do take the time to leave a comment.


Chapter 11

A white and purple dress with a purple cardigan attired Penelope stood up from her table inside the coffee shop and zoned in on her target. Picking up her yellow handbag, she sauntered over to the table where Jeff Hastings had taken a seat. Standing in front of the man dressed in a dark suit and a corduroy jacket, she said, "Oh I see you are reading The Helmsman's Wife."

Hastings looked up as Penelope continued, "Such a sad story, I just finished it."

Somewhat surprised, Hastings replied, "That's good, I just started."

"Oh sorry, I can see that by the page you are on. It's an awesome story; that is until you get to the sad bit, the bit about the wife, so sad, you know, the end?"

Hastings rolled his eyes as Penelope sipped from her purple coffee mug, "I do now."

Ignoring his reaction, Penelope asked, "You're Jeff, right?"

"Who are you?"

Extending her right hand, Penelope gushed, "Oh, I'm Penelope Garcia, nice to see you."

Shaking the offered hand, a wide eyed Hastings said, "I don't believe I've met you before."

"No you haven't. I'm with the FBI," explained Penelope as she sat down.

"Good for you," returned Hasting with apprehension.

Now that the icebreaker was out of the way, Penelope went in for the kill, "Why did you pull your last article?"

Alarmed, Hastings placed the paperback into his bag and stood, "You're with the FBI, you should know why."

Confused, Penelope inquired, "The FBI didn't tell you to pull the story, did they?"

"I'm not telling you shit. You've already managed to ruin one ending for me."

"Wait up, two families died in those fires. You were suspicious about the facts and you had a right to be."

"Seriously, you don't look like an Agent to me, so why should I listen to you?"

"I'm not an Agent. I am a nerd who works with the Behavioural Analysis Unit."

Hastings' anger ebbed and he asked, "You think it a serial killer doing this?"

"I think you should start your story with that theory."

"There is no story, not now … not the one I want to write."

Penelope shrugged her shoulders, "Look whenever the threat from the person telling you to pull the story is no longer an issue, your story could be front page news if you listen to the right source. I'm talking about you having your own book. You could be the next Watergate."

"The threat being to the shareholders," shared Hastings.

The comment made Penelope's face scrunch up in misunderstanding, "Are you talking about shareholders who could be affected detrimentally?"

"I think the word you are looking for is financially."

"Follow the money?" queried Penelope.

Hastings smiled and Penelope cheered, "Oh that sounds like a very good ending … to your book I mean and for you."

"Why yes it does," acquiesced Hastings before sitting back down.

A grinning Analyst took another sip of java and listened intently to Hastings' story.

-o-

Reid was busy doodling on a yellow notepad and looking back and forth at a screen shot of the bullet wound to the UNSUB's wrist on his computer when Emily, Aaron and Derek approached his desk. They were swiftly joined by Ashley and Dave.

"You got anything yet Pretty Boy?" inquired Morgan, his tone filled with hope.

"Although the damage was severe, some of the tattoo is still visible."

Hotch turned to Ashley, "Seaver, a photo of the victim to the press."

Garcia walked up to the group and announced, "I have a pretty good idea who is behind the media blackout. My chat with Hastings the journalist revealed a lot. He advised me to follow the money and that is what I did. It seems the gazette he writes for is owned by a multi-national global conglomerate that deals in oil, new technologies, shipping, and air and ground transportation. All of which employ the services of one company … CWS."

Aaron stared at Penelope, "Clear Water Securities."

"You know them?" asked Dave.

"I've come across them before. They're a private counter intelligence group that runs out of Geneva."

Penelope continued, "Ron Cosenza, Kerry Fagan and Byron Delaney were all ex-employees."

"How long ago Garcia?" asked Emily.

"It was seven years ago."

Aaron addressed Ashley who was still on the phone, "Hang up Seaver."

Rossi looked to Hotch, "Do we have a problem?"

"No, but CWS does."

Just then Reid slid back his chair and triumphantly declared, "I've got it." Holding up the notepad he displayed a drawing of a shamrock.

Emily's face depicted nothing but horror and all her darkest fears were realised. Her heartrate quickened as she hastily walked away from the Team and entered the nearest restroom. She now had conformation Doyle was behind the murders – the shamrock tattoo was a symbol of loyalty amongst his men.

Taking up position in front of the mirrors and sinks, Emily retrieves her phone and called Tsia.

"Hey Em, what's going on?"

Emily didn't have time to answer as Penelope ambled into the room and inquired, "Hey, are you all right."

"Em, Em are you there?" said Tsia as Emily ended the call and told Penelope, "Oh, uhm yeah I'm okay." She slipped the phone into the left pocket of her black trousers.

"I'm not a profiler," returned Penelope.

Emily cut her off by snapping, "Please don't start." An expression of hurt floated across Penelope's face and Emily back peddled, "I'm sorry for that and yes, I am going to be all right."

Nodding, Penelope is not placated, "I am just really concerned for you. I know the flu is going around the place and you haven't been yourself lately." She looks at her friend and asked, "Oh my god, are you and Jill pregnant?"

Scoffing and shaking her head, Emily had to think fast, "No, I just haven't been sleeping very well. I've been having recurring nightmares from when Jill was shot and I end up waking in a panic."

In spite of the seriousness of the conversation, Penelope smirks, "What time are you talking about? She's been shot three times sweetie; twice with us and once in New York."

Emily keeps up with the deceit, "The time she was shot in the neck and nearly died."

"Oh, you mean the second crap fest time. Now I am with you, but why are you reliving that ordeal now?"

"No idea."

"Maybe you need to speak with your gorgeous wife about it and maybe discuss making baby number three while you are at it."

Giggling, Emily stopped thinking about Doyle for a nanosecond as she struggled to stave off her tears, "You always make me smile Penny and I don't think I have ever taken the time to tell you that. You always see the beauty in any situation."

Penelope smiled and was about to respond when Ashley rushed into the room, "Sorry to disturb you ladies, but Hotch requires you in the SCIF Emily."

-o-

Entering the Sensitive Compartmented Information Facility with Derek, Dave and Aaron, Emily viewed the four men sitting at the far end of the table before taking a seat on the left hand side, and close to the door.

At the head of the table, Clear Water Securities owner Lex Dryer asked, "Why did you bring us here and why exactly is the BAU concerned about CWS?"

Aaron walked up to the other end and passed a file to one of the two men sitting to Dryer's right. He then forwarded it to Dryer as Derek responded, "We want to know why you pulled that story?"

Opening the folder, Dryer looked at the picture of Byron Delaney then expressed disgust when confronted with an autopsy photo. The other images were of the Cosenza and Fagan families.

Seating beside Emily, Hotch explained, "Those are pictures of how you remember them and how they look now while lying in the morgue."

Dryer passed the file to the bespectacled man to his left and made no comment.

"You warned Byron Delaney because you knew him the longest," proposed Morgan. "It was unlucky for him that you delivered the message too late."

"If you are waiting for a reaction, you won't get one; this is our business," challenged Dryer.

"Your business?" queried Rossi.

Dryer remained emotionless, "As ugly as it sounds, yes."

The man's arrogance was not boding well with Derek, "Kerry Fagan, Ron Cosenza and Byron Delaney all worked for CWS."

"We have forty thousand other sub-contractor working for us all across the world."

"You admit they were sub-contracted to you?" probed Morgan.

"If you have brought me here for answers, then you will leave emptyhanded. Take it up with the main contractor."

"And that would be?" pressed Dave.

"That would be your government."

Aaron was deadpan as he pointed out, "The person responsible for killing these people holds your company accountable, not the government."

"My corporation runs operations from the Middle East to Antarctica; going over them all will take months."

"So you have already begun an investigation?" asked Hotch with a modicum of suspicion.

Rossi interjected before Dryer responded, "That's the reason you pulled the story."

Dryer quietly conferred with the male to his left before making comment, "The cases these people were involved with are protected by a Multi-national Official Secrets' Agreement. Even if I wanted to ..."

"Stop right there," interrupted Derek. "These people were murdered on US soil by trained suspects who by the way, also fired upon Federal Agents."

Aaron continued, "As a courtesy and out of respect for the quandary your company now faces, everything said in this room is off the record. However, outside this room, if you continue to withhold information about this case, you and your company will be held fully accountable."

As the man to his left leaned in, Dryer held up his left hand and caved, "Okay, okay, what do you exactly know?"

Aaron took the lead, "We are looking for a team from Europe that has considerable training and for one of them, it's personal."

"What makes you think that?"

Derek angrily replied, "Because they had the choice to spare a ten year old boy and they chose not to."

Hotch resumed, "The murder of Samuel Cosenza was very personal for one member of the team."

"One of the attackers shot last night had the remains of a tattoo on his right wrist," added Dave while Aaron passed another file to Dryer.

Morgan went on with the evidence, "On the surface the tattoo may appear to be a simple four left clover, but the stem has a "V" on the end. We believe this is associated with the hidden sect of fallen warriors. It is also the name of a ship famous for its journeys from Dublin to America … the Valhalla."

Emily had to fight hard to remain quiet and not divulge all she knew. Obviously she had missed that snippet of information while talking with Garcia in the restroom. She sat there and refrained from displaying any form of emotion.

On the other hand, Rossi noticed the look of recognition on Dryer's face, "You've seen that symbol before, haven't you?"

"We ran an operation to capture the leader of a breakaway IRA fraction years ago and he assumed that moniker many times."

"What's his real name?" inquired Aaron impatiently.

"Ian Doyle."

Emily prayed for the room to open up and swallow her. Instead she stayed calm and departed the room with her colleagues. She remained that way while returning to the Incident Room.

-o-

Once Emily, Derek and Ashley were assembled in the room, Penelope typed away on her laptop and began, "All right, Ian Doyle is officially on everyone's list. His photo is all over the place. He's not going to be able to get out of D.C. unless he can sprout a set of wings and fly."

The three Agents moved in closer and Ashley commented, "I'm happy we have this psycho's name, but how the hell are we going to find out who is on his list?"

"We study his life," replied Morgan. "And every single person who has come in contact with him."

"Doyle has been incarcerated for seven years," remarked Emily as Aaron and Dave joined them. "But he was still able to find out who the players were. Maybe we should begin with how he escaped prison."

"Do we even know where he was imprisoned?" inquired Morgan.

Emily could no longer hide data and shared, "Russia I believe."

Ashley commented next, "There are actually no extradition papers for him on file."

"Was Doyle on your radar when you were with Interpol Prentiss?" asked Hotch.

"Yes he was. I had heard about him, but never had any direct contact with him. I could always ask around."

"Please do what you can."

Emily left the room as Dave said, "The good and bad guys keep files close to them."

Stopping outside the doorway, Emily listened in.

"What would be in those files?" inquired Penelope.

"There would be intel, insurance and protection for times just like this."

"I should maybe go to Byron Delaney's house and see if he hid anything where we haven't looked," suggested Derek as he got to his feet.

Aaron nodded, "Take Prentiss with you; she may have some insight into what to search for."

Outside, Emily scurried away towards her work station.

Morgan quickly caught up to her, "Hey Princess, wait up. You and me are off to Delaney's house to search for concealed files."

"Sure thing Partner."

-o-

Minutes later, Derek was behind the wheel of the SUV while Emily was texting on her phone. Dropping it into her lap, Emily sighed.

"I gather no one has replied yet," surmised Morgan.

'I only have a couple of contacts still at the Agency, but they will get back to me when they can." Emily looked into the side mirror and watched for a tail.

"Are we being followed 007?" jested Derek light heartedly.

Not finding any humour in the comment, Emily replied, "No and you should go through the city. Sixty six will be miserable at this time of day."

"Don't worry, we will get there."

Emily's resolve broke, "Oh, you mean before Doyle kills somebody else? The man is shooting at Federal Agents for Christ's sake; what the fuck is he going to do next?"

"Okay, Miss Hot Head, what do you expect me to do about it?"

"Get a little more creative with your driving for a start," growled Emily.

"Can't you see I'm working on it Prentiss?"

Before any more hostile words were exchanged, Emily's phone rang and she answered, "Hey, I appreciate you getting back to me. Listen, I need some information on Ian Doyle."

Tsia replied, "Are you on your own?"

"No and anything you can spare would be great."

Clyde spoke next, "Are you and your team in danger?"

"Absolutely and you should start with our list of victims that may have a connection to Doyle. Let me give you their names: Ron Cosenza, Kerry Fagan and Byron Delaney."

"I'll send you a document A-SAP," offered Tsia.

"I'll be waiting and thanks again." Ending the call, Emily exhaled.

Derek glanced at her, "Do they have anything?"

"I don't know, we'll just have to wait and see."

"You really do need to start trusting people Emily."

"I trust people," Emily protested while making brief eye contact with her partner.

"No you don't. You don't because you can't and I understand why. You count on someone and they let you down, so you go it alone. You will never admit that because you are too stubborn. It's okay, it doesn't really matter, but you know what does matter? You can trust me Emily … with anything. I'm being serious here, no matter how awful you think a situation is; I promise you … you are not alone. I just wish you'd believe me."

Realising Jillian must have voiced her concerns with Derek, Emily tamped down the ache in her heart and attempted to alleviate his concerns, "I do trust you and no, I am not having an affair."

"You know your wife is going all kinds of crazy with her suspicions."

Emily went on a searching expedition, "What did she tell you?"

"Not much, only the fact you are keeping something from her and she is worried, just like the rest of us."

"Shit."

"So, you want to discuss it with me now while I fight the traffic?"

"No and if you ever profile me again, you will wish you hadn't. I will kick your arse into next week Stud Muffin."

Locking eyes, the two friends laughed.

-o-

Dave and Aaron were standing in front of the case board when Rossi noted, "You know, the more players we add to this board, the sooner Erin will find out about it."

"Strauss is already aware," replied Hotch.

With raised eyebrows, Dave admitted, "Then in that case, I am surprised she didn't attend the friendly chat in the SCIF."

"She just happens to be on vacation with her children."

"Great, now she will never take another one," bemoaned Rossi while studying a picture of Doyle. "Is everything about this guy classified?"

"Someone knows him; we just haven't found them yet."

-o-

Emily was situated in the living of Delaney's house when Derek came down the stairs and declared, "I found a safe in his bedroom"

Rolling her eyes, Emily asked, "Was it behind the huge painting?"

"Yes."

Roaming around the room, Emily remarked, "Forget it; nothing of importance will be in there. He will have a secret hidey hole in a place where he can sit and still gain access to it quickly." Taking a seat in a large leather armchair, she sorted through the reading material lying in the rack beside her then ran her fingers under a wooden end table. Finding nothing, she stood when she noticed a break in the wooden panelling of the wall behind and to the right.

Pushing the surface, it opened up and she retrieved an A4 sized yellow envelope. Derek drew near and stood by her side.

"Get out of here," he muttered as Emily withdrew several photographs of people in army fatigues. Looking over her shoulder, Derek recognised someone, "That's Dryer.

Going to the next picture, Emily said, "There's Kerry Fagan and Ron Cosenza."

"Delaney isn't in the pictures," noted Morgan. "Why would he hold onto photos if he isn't in them?"

"Maybe he was their handler," put forth Emily behind arched brows.

"Let's get this back to Garcia."

-o-

All the Agents, besides Spencer, were seated around the table and Penelope was standing in front of the view screen that was displaying the pictures Emily had found. Zooming in on a road sign attached to a tunnel, she asked, "Okay, for one million dollars in the bonus round, does anyone know what language this is?"

"Those are directions to villages in North Korea," replied Emily.

"I love you and of course you would know," quipped Penelope before taking her seat next to Ashley.

Emily wasn't finished, "There's a political prison near Haengyong-ni; Camp 22 Kwan-li-so, but the North Koreans deny it exists."

"You think they took Doyle there?" proposed Derek.

Ashley retorted, "That would certainly explain why he is after the team that captured him."

"Crap, even his prison is off the grid," remarked a head shaking Penelope.

"The only information we have on him is he has never married, owns numerous residences and was arrested at his Tuscan villa seven years ago," shared Ashley.

"Is there paperwork to verify the authenticity of that data?" inquired Emily hesitantly.

Nodding, Seaver responded, "There is, along with a list of people who were present the day of his apprehension. There may also be some photographs available. Reid is looking into that presently."

Emily's chest constricted with fear, "Right, so everyone still alive on that list needs to be warned Doyle is on the war path and needs protection."

"That has already been done," advised Ashley. "But there is another different life Doyle lead, one that isn't included in his file which is going to make it difficult to locate him."

"Prentiss," began Hotch. "Did you end up hearing from your European associates?"

"They are sending me a document."

"We need it now."

Standing, Emily headed for the doorway as Dave queried, "Doyle was locked up in a hell hole for seven years; how did he escape?"

"Does it matter now?" answered Derek.

-o-

Racing to her desk, Emily immediately phoned Tsia. When she heard a click, she didn't waste time, "Doyle wasn't in a Russian prison; he was in Kwan-le-so for fuck's sake."

Easter's voice came on the line, "So much for that information being on a need to know basis."

"Crap, you didn't think I needed to know that. You are kidding me, right?"

"What good would it have done Emily?"

"Here's a news flash, you don't get to choose what is good for me anymore. What else aren't you telling me?"

"That's everything, I swear."

"You said he was in Russia."

"Actually, it was Sean who told you that."

"Tsia."

"Yes Em?"

"Pick up the receiver and keep him out of hearing range."

"What are you going to do Emily?" asked Clyde sarcastically. "Run away again, oh wait, you are really good at that, aren't you?"

"Tsia," pleaded Emily.

"Bloody hell," cursed Easter under his breath.

"Tsia, please."

"Okay," replied Tsia while reaching for the handheld phone.

"You cannot trust that man. You have got to get out of there right now. You will be safer on your own. Do you remember 9th Street and Corelli's and how the door works?"

"Yes I do."

"He still lives there. You can be in and out in less than five minutes."

"I got it."

"Under no circumstances do you allow Clyde to follow you and please be careful Tsia."

"You too Em."

Ending the call, Emily rushed to the fax room and collected the document Tsia had promised. Exiting the room, Spencer passed by her in the hallway.

Looking at the sheet of paper, he asked, "What do you have there?"

Stopping, Emily turned to him, "Aww oh, it's the only lead I have so far. What about you? Seaver mentioned you were looking for photos from Doyle's Tuscan Villa."

"I couldn't locate any stills from the day of his arrest, but there may be surveillance from the sedans used; they usually record everything."

The reprieve Emily felt after Reid's first sentence was short lived as the second crushed her hopes of going undetected, "Oh that's good news. Well I have to get this to Hotch, see you."

"Yeah of course, bye."

Running all the way, Emily returned to the Incident Room and Aaron inquired, "You got the information from your contact?"

"I have bank accounts traceable to our first two victims, so we might be able to match the rest of those faces." Glancing at the monitor, Emily noticed the surveillance pictures, "What else have you found?"

"Just satellite pictures of Camp 22," replied Penelope.

Hotch stood, "Rossi and Prentiss, my office please. I think it's time we launch a full scale search for Doyle and come up with a strategy. Morgan, can you please contact Metro Police?"

-o-

Emily was standing in front of Aaron's desk when Dave asked, "What's the hold up?"

"We are waiting on someone from D.C. Metro Police to arrive," answered Hotch.

Rossi wasn't too impressed, "Who will have updates on the road blocks?"

"Metro will, along with all parkways and interstates in D.C., Maryland and Virginia having station check points."

Emily cleared her throat, "Doyle has the resources and means to get in and out of the country without being detected; what makes you think he won't get out of the district?"

Aaron frowned, "It's all we have at the moment."

There was a knock on the door and Derek entered, "Metro got held up with a double homicide over on K and 9th. They asked me to take a look."

Emily heart sank at the mention of the address as Hotch inquired, "Doyle?"

Morgan replied, "The Vic's apartment appears to be a black market forger, so maybe."

Holding her breath, Emily probed, "Were there any other victims?"

"Yes, a woman in her early thirties outside the door. She didn't have any identification on her."

Although her heart was crumbling, Emily showed no sign of if as she said, "I'm coming with you."

"Go," ordered Aaron.

-o-

Emily struggled to keep herself in check while Derek entered the apartment. She was dumbstruck by the sight of her friend's body slumped again the wall with a bullet wound to the centre of her forehead and a dried trickle of blood upon her skin. "It's my fault you're dead. I sent you here," chastised Emily to herself. "I'm so sorry Tsia. I swear I'll make the bastard pay."

Morgan examined the body of the male lying in the living room, "He took two the chest and went quickly." Returning to Emily, he added, "And she took one to the temple. They were both shot with a .45. She obviously came to the door and was shot through the spyhole; she never saw it coming. This has to be Doyle. She might be on our list, so we should run her fingerprints."

Tears pricked the back of Emily's eyes and she fought to keep them at bay by looking upwards. Her stomach churned and she tasted the bile as it rose in her throat. 'I need some fresh air," she finally mumbled while taking off down the corridor and past the local police. She barely made it outside and to the fence before vomiting on the ground.

After several hurls, she looked at her boots and saw they had fallen victim to her spewing. She inwardly cursed as Derek joined her.

"What happened Prentiss? You pull a whiskey Pete's?" he joked.

Wiping her mouth with the palm of her right hand, Emily responded, "I have no idea what that means, but if it refers to me vomiting all over my boots, then I am guilty."

"Do you need a soda to settle your stomach? What can I do to make you feel better?"

Clearing her throat, Emily turned to her partner, "You can drive me home so I can change; I think I got some on my trousers too."

"Hotch wants us to get back A-SAP."

"I know, but I swear I'll be real quick."

Morgan gave his friend a questioning glare, "You are talking about your old apartment, aren't you?"

"Yes I am and please, no more fishing."

"Okay, I won't press for you for the reason you are not living with your wife."

"Thank you and I will explain when this shit is all over."

"I'll hold you to it Prentiss. Let's get a move on."

-o-

Morgan doubled parked as Emily ran into her apartment building. She knew she owed him an explanation, but for now, it had to wait. Ignorance was bliss in her mind and that's why she chose to keep her association with Doyle a secret. Entering her apartment, Emily reset the alarm system and walked down the hallway to her bedroom. Removing her soiled boots, she then took off her ruined trousers. She dressed in a pair of denim jeans and slipped on another pair of black boots from the closet. She added a black leather jacket to her ensemble before kneeling in front of the safe. Opening it, Emily withdrew a blue jewellery satchel. Untying it, she tipped out a gold chain and looked at the ring moulded into the shape of two clasped hands.

Leaving the safe open, she went into the ensuite and tossed the chain in the toilet bowl and flushed. With speed, she brushed her teeth, rearmed the alarm and then rejoined her partner.

She was silent on the way back to the office and was glad Derek didn't engage her in conversation.

-o-

Emily and Derek entered the bullpen just as Aaron was being his profile to the throng of Law Enforcement personnel taking up the majority of the area. Standing to the left of the door, Emily listened to her boss's address.

"It's rare for us to know the subject's name and in this case, knowing Ian Doyle's identity doesn't give us very much to go on. He is known to a select few and those that know him well, either work beside him or are on his list. Two or three of his victims worked for CWS and were responsible for his transport to a North Korean prison. There were a total of seven operatives during the mission and the remaining five have been warned of the danger they are in. All the Federal and International Agents involved in tracking Doyle down are now on his list."

Emily spotted Derek standing beside Jillian towards the front and she wondered what her wife was doing in the office. She made her way to them as Hotch continued.

"We'll find him the same way we find any other offender by studying his behaviour. We will dissect his every move since he escaped. In his bid for freedom from North Korea, Doyle killed a man and used his car to cross the border into Russia."

Slipping her right hand into Jillian's left, Emily smiled when her dark blue pants suit and pale blue button down shirt attired wife turned her head and smiled. "What are you doing here?" Emily asked while her heartbeat quickened.

"Hotch called me in for desk duty, apparently it's all hands on deck."

Derek looked to Emily, "You good?"

"I'm good," she replied while holding back an avalanche of tears. Jillian gave her a questioning glare, so Emily leaned in and whispered into her ear. She lied for what she hoped was the last time, "I need to use the toilet; I'll be right back. I love you and our babies."

Nodding, Jillian let go of her wife's hand and turned her attention back to Aaron's speech.

Scanning the room, Emily took one last look at her Team before backing out of the room and departing. As sorrow gripped her very being, she left behind the life and those she loved in an effort to catch Doyle before he took her life or anyone else's. Without looking back, she began her quest for justice, or at best, to protect her friends and family.

Journalist Dorothy Dix wrote, "Confession is always weakness. The grave soul keeps its own secrets and takes its own punishment in silence."

-o-