Chapter VIII

"The distinction between the past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion." ~ Albert Einstein

The next hours were spent trying to understand the hit. All the BAU team had arrived after Hotch and Emily. Emily had sent Gloria home. And she probably wouldn't have persuaded her, if the other woman hadn't needed urgently a shower and change from that skirt and the heels that she wore all day.

The bomb was put underneath Anderson's car. Anderson every Wednesday stayed late in the office to prepare paperwork for some regular scheduled meetings for the next day. They were still investigating him but they were pretty sure that he was clean. It was Anderson that they were talking about. His only 'fault' was that he had the habit of parking his car in many places without any cameras around. Noticing, though, the way the poor guy was shivering as police and FBI were all over him, whoever chose to put that bomb under his car had a sense of humour.

The other ironic coincidence was that if Strauss hadn't seen Rossi and Gloria and approached them for her own personal reasons, making a longer route to her own car, she would have been much closer to the bomb. Anderson used to park his car just beside hers. But that didn't mean that the bomber had any intention of hurting her in particular. The bomb had exploded with a timer and not remotely. Moreover, as a matter of fact, if she had been the target, it would have been more efficient to put the bomb under her car. She didn't always park under a camera either, like every normal person.

The attackers had guessed that the FBI would have managed to keep the media silent about the threat letter, so they planted a bomb in a place that could only hit the headlines: in the FBI parking lot. They were just getting started, already having created a public worry and they were moving too quickly. Having no other clues the possibility of those terrorists having to do with the New Paradise Demons was an option that they had to analyse.

Morgan, Hotch, Rossi and Emily were in the conference room when Garcia ran in.

"Sir! Sir!"

"Tell me, brilliant, that at least you, you found something.", Morgan said.

"I always do, mon amour!", she replied.

"I said it: Brilliant!", he smiled.

"Oh, you are so perceptive. Give me a reason not to fall in love with you!", she joked.

"What do you have, Garcia?", Hotch put them back in the subject.

"Good news and bad news alert! I just found out why everything looks so squeaky clean about the checks on that James Hathaway from us and from the British James Bond's. It's his real identity!"

"So Peters was a cover?", Emily asked surprised and Hotch looked at her knowing that she had her questions about how the man had become a person of interest for Interpol.

"Peters' identity looks real. But! Have in mind that according your information, Peters and his father were war refugees to the beloved country of tea. Their past and origins though are as dark as the dark that our little genius was afraid of.", Penelope clarified to Emily, "But for Hathaway, I dag everything. I even checked school photos."

"So Hathaway is American citizen and a pilot.", Morgan concluded.

"And he is Peters. Or... Peters is Hathaway? Anyway you get it.", the tech girl commented.

"Somehow he took Peters' identity or even got rid of the real Peters and replaced him. Some face similarity and he got lucky.", Rossi assumed, "Do we know where is this guy?"

"Here come the bad news. Till two years ago he had an address and everything. Now he is off the grid, again.", Garcia finished.

"Probably playing someone else.", Morgan guessed.

"Or managing things from underground.", Emily added.

"Keep looking, Garcia. That man is probably the key.", Hotch ordered.

That was the only break till the morning came. As Emily threw a look on the board with all that they knew to that point –which wasn't actually that much–, she couldn't avoid again the feeling that this all was too familiar. Of course, terrorists and gangs dealing guns were always close. This won't change in all the years to come. Back during the time in JTF-12, they had used many times information coming from the Organised Crime Unit of Interpol about guns and drugs trafficking to use in profiles and other times OCU had used their information. Paradise Demons sold guns to Ian Doyle and many like him, regularly. Through the investigation for Paradise Demons, they had gathered much information for Doyle's profile and based on it they had created Lauren Reynolds' 'professional background', afterwards.

Those days it was common knowledge that the people working in that unit were never too posh. Clyde had joked to her during Doyle's pursuit that she had become 'posh FBI profiler' but even on those Interpol days, they were considered 'posh' in a way: JTF-12, the best and brightest agents gathered to profile terrorists. The Organised Crime Unit wasn't 'posh' in any way. Analysing patterns, contacts and dealings, profiling teams, chains and structures, frequent undercover ops, they were chasing mobsters and gangsters for a living. They tended to behave or even look like them. Despite any high educational qualifications –mostly through scholarships –, they were street smart people with some notoriety about politics and following rules. They were a treat to the dark side.

For Emily they had been actually the treat to the dark side. She was always prepared and brave to do anything for the sake of good. But that time, she used to be also a professionally correct and politics friendly agent, with high education, rich upbringing, ambitions to go up the ladder. Emily knew how to 'play ball', family genes. She had considered a polished surface safe. She had followed that path back then and the first time in the FBI. 'Safe'... She had gotten asked two times to betray people that trusted her, because that was part of the 'ball', as well. Neither, though, the other way around turned safe for Gloria, who just preferred to ignore the 'ball'. There was no safety at all in their line of work, apart from the pay-check every month and even this wasn't enough considering what they had to face and do. Anyway, at some point Sean brought them to Doyle's case and having reached a dead end, without any other option than infiltration, Emily agreed to be the bait. Just because of her ambitions to move up had she seen a great opportunity with a high-profile undercover operation in her resume? No, Emily Prentiss wanted to prove herself that she wasn't a rich brat with just some brilliant mind. She could roll it on the other side. She could play it. And she did it. She overdid it considering that she even broke every rule to offer Declan a normal life. But she paid a price, a price that she wouldn't want to pay again. Ria, already being her friend for some time -both driven women, surrounded by too many men, with crazy young years and dry humour had enough similarities to overcome their differences on the approach of politics-, had been the one that tried to make her aware that all that wouldn't have come cheaply. Gloria had been that treat to the dark side for Emily and in many ways she still was.

At that moment, Gloria got in the BAU bullpen and Emily couldn't ignore to notice the same driven look on her face, the same one that she had that morning when she first met her. She still remembered that morning of the first meeting, in 2002, with that team of the Organised Crime Unit. Back then it could have been actually considered weird that Clyde used to be a rather good friend with the leader of that team, the stormy, hot-tempered and straight forward, Irish, SSA Richard Whelan. Probably they had the same taste in clothes; Emily had sarcastically assumed. Clyde never wore suits, only dark jeans, sweaters and leather sport jackets. That was how the tall, well-built, blue eyed, brown, shoulders-length haired, in his late thirties man was dressed when he had entered that office that morning, followed by the then-fresh rising star of the agency, undercover agent, SA Gloria Paterson. She looked like a student, not a spy, not even an agent, Emily had thought at first sight of the short, in her late –looking early– twenties 'girl' in blue jeans, a red shirt and a colourful, silk scarf around her neck, with green eyes and black-reddish, long, curly hair. Till that day, Emily had only known her by face and name, the youngest agent having ever gone undercover, whose shadowy past made MI6 send her to Interpol, instead of recruiting her, even if they had trained her.

Emily's cell phone beeped, bringing her back to reality. Clyde texted her that he managed to be in DC earlier than the expected, he would land in a couple of hours. Easter, Paterson and Prentiss on similar cases, again. Yes, this was too familiar. But she looked around. Tsia, Sean, Richard –she didn't want to think about Jeremy, for sure they didn't need another traitor– were nowhere to be found, lost in the battles. She didn't know what had happened to the rest of the OCU team. What mattered was that Clyde, Ria and her were the only ones left to deal with another organisation giving guns to some other terrorists and they had with them the best and most trustworthy people that they could, the BAU. They had been able to do it back then; they were able to do it now. And that's what they should focus on and forget about all the rest. However, Emily knew deep down that this wasn't going to be that easy.

Gloria had managed to have a shower, get four hours of sleep and change into a pair of comfy trousers, a blouse and flat shoes. In the meantime she had made the decision to forget about everything else. Was Emily thinking any bad of her? It was time to face it directly and clear the damn things up. She just wished that she would be able to hold her temper. Rossi with Strauss, on top of it, had shaken her much more than she would like to admit. But it was time to forget about political 'games', friendliness issues, emotional issues and 'issues of every other kind' and all the events relevant to Paradise Demons. They were the best to catch those bastards and it was time to act like it. She used to be one of the best and she wasn't leaning on anyone for a long time. Since when had she become so dependent on Emily's trust or Dave's intimacy or anyone's help in general?

She used to be self-sufficient, aggressive and reckless. Gloria Paterson, the incredible spy, the agent that could incarnate every identity and push every limit. Many had thought that she was too dedicated and some others that she was just self destructive. And yeah, all of them were right but deep down she knew also that she did all that because she was getting fed on it. Playing between the lines, bending rules just before the breaking point were a rush, a rush that spiralled dangerously, though. She knew she couldn't carry on anymore. It wasn't just the injury or the fact that she had surpassed every limit existed for undercover jobs. She was getting older and her body wouldn't be able to tolerate any longer the 24/7 stress and over-thinking. Exhausted, that's what she was. Exhaustion had messed with her head back in Rome. The acting that everything was fine, the long hours in a desk and over files, without any rush of adrenaline, the disturbed sleep, the loneliness were messing with her head now, though. 'You need to find a balance.', Emily had advised her recently over a discussion about settling down. 'What makes us strong, sometimes, is letting go.', Hotch had told her in London referring to whatever she had passed. 'Let go, stella mia. Relax.', Dave had coaxed with meaning a long time ago –in a context that maybe his friend wouldn't like to think about. If she only knew how to do all that while she had lost people, while others now were questioning her, even for logical reasons – she should admit that –, while 'what past is past and conditions change' with some others... She shook her head out of the thoughts. She had decided to put everything aside. 'So let's damn forget and focus.'

"So what's new?"

Emily filled her in quickly.

"Peters was an alias. It looks like Hathaway is the guy's real name.", she finished.

"Really?", Gloria raised her eyebrows surprised.

"Yes. Was there any other suspicion on this guy that led to the blue notice?", Emily asked.

"Nothing that I know of.", the other woman replied and the look on her face was sincere.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, I am.", she replied and she sounded offended.

Emily looked at her in an investigative way, but she decided not to ask more questions. Easter was going to be around in short time. She stole a glimpse at her watch.

"I'm going to pick up Clyde.", Emily announced, "He's going to be here earlier. With the new information just have a look if anything fits with the NPD."

"Cool.", Gloria just answered and watched her as she left.

'Forgetting is not a piece of cake.', Gloria thought having not missed the disbelief on Emily's face.

Clyde could give some answers, if he wanted to. It wasn't the most reliable source of information but he was a chance.

'Yeah, all this isn't going to be easy.', Emily's mind confirmed.

"Don't pray for easy lives. Pray to be stronger men." ~ John F. Kennedy

They will have to be stronger…

Short-timed update with a chapter with some insight on the characters and the background. I thought that's a better way to leave you for New Year.

It's the point of no return. Terrorists are about to break loose. Clyde is about to appear, Emily about to make some difficult decisions, the two friends to confront each other, Gloria to break and the rest is about to do a lot of things.

I should admit in this story, I love analysing the characters. I just do. I only hope it just doesn't get tiring (and my English are understandable and correct in such long text without dialogue). Let me know!

I wish you all again Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! 8-)