Author's Note: I know, I know. This is another "Reid's been kidnapped" story, but this was a plot bunny that wouldn't let me alone until I wrote it. So, here it is. Read and review if you like.

Chapter 1

Reid stopped in front of his apartment door and pulled out his keys. It had been a long case and he was glad that it was over. He wished they could all take tomorrow off and get some rest, but he and the rest of the team had to report bright and early to go over paperwork. He slipped the key into the lock and was just starting to turn it when he heard footsteps behind him.

Before he could react, the Juggernaut hit and knocked him through the now-open door, where he was pinned to the floor.

"Do not make a sound," a voice snarled in his ear. "Understand?"

Reid nodded frantically. Either this was a random robbery or his work had followed him home, but in either scenario, it was not good.

Three more pairs of feet followed the first pair in and Spencer's door was shut and locked. Hands pulled him from the floor and pushed him into the easy chair and he got a good look at them. They looked like the epitome of secret agents. Dark suits and ties, sunglasses, and earpieces in their ears. What the heck was going on?

"All right," the first one said, keeping his hand on Spencer's shoulder. "Do you take any medications?"

Spencer stared at him. "Um...no. Why?"

"Anything you can't bear to leave behind?"

Spencer squashed any fear that threatened to choke him. "Where am I going?"

The first one shook his shoulder. "Answer the question."

"You mean keepsakes?" Spencer thought about the things he had and then decided no, if he took something with him, it might be lost-why on earth were kidnappers asking about keepsakes? "No, nothing I want to take with me."

"Okay. All your phones, tablets, any electronics you may have-where are they?"

Spencer opened his messenger bag and held out his personal phone.

"Any work phones?"

He hesitated too long and they took his bag from him. "Hey!"

One of the others put a hand over his mouth. "Quiet!"

They went through his bag and removed any and all tech and left it all on the coffee table.

"Want to take this bag with you?" the first one asked. "You take it with you everywhere."

Spencer thought about leaving his bag behind and flinched inwardly. No, he had to take it with him-but then his brain caught up to him. If he left it here, then his friends would definitely know that something had happened. Like Goon 1 said, it went everywhere with him. "No, it can stay here. I'd be afraid to lose it if I took it somewhere new. But...where am I going? And why?"

"We'll answer that later," the first one said. "Now, here's what's going to happen: We're all going to walk out of this building together. If any of your neighbors stops and asks where you're going, say that you've been called in to work and we're here to pick you up. You won't run, and you won't try to tell them that we're taking you against your will. If you do, we will shoot the nearest person. Once we're outside, there's a black SUV parked by the front door. You're going to get in the back seat and then we're going to go and you're not going to give us any problems. Understand?"

He'd gone past scared and went to deeply frightened. He nodded, and they pulled him out of the chair. They unlocked his door and pulled him out into the hall. They locked the door and they started down the hallway. They reached the elevator and soon they were on the ground floor. There was one person checking his mail, but they walked right past him and outside. There was the SUV. They unlocked the door and pushed him inside.

It was a pretty nice car, Spencer noted as he dropped into a seat. It was built more like a limousine than a regular car-there was even a television and a minibar. The whole situation immediately took on an air of unreality. What kind of kidnappers kidnapped you in style like this?

One of them slid into the driver's seat while the others took their seats in the back with Reid. One of them reached around him and fastened his seat belt just as the ignition turned on and they pulled away. Reid took his courage in both hands and asked, "So, where are we going?"

"We have orders to take you in," the first one said as he shifted in the seat next to Spencer. "You'll find out who and why and where we're going shortly."

Reid's knee started to jerk up and down. He didn't like this one bit. The only comfort he could derive from this situation was that they obviously intended to keep him alive, else why did they ask about medications and keepsakes? "Um...I should probably tell you...please don't give me any drugs. I'm a recovering addict and I've been doing great on my sobriety. I don't want to lose all that progress just because you want me to go to sleep or answer questions or...something."

"Noted, kid. Why don't you sit back and enjoy the ride?"

"Enjoy being kidnapped?"

"Think of it as a relocation."

"A relocation against my will. Got it."

Was it his imagination or had the driver just chuckled?

He stayed quiet for the next few minutes as they drove through the city. He had to think of a way to get away if he could-God knew he didn't want to be kidnapped! There were four of them and one of him and...wait. They were stopping at a red light. This might be a chance. Had they engaged the door locks? He thought about it and he hadn't heard the locks engage. This was probably the only chance he'd get.

He didn't even have to think about it. In a flash he had his seat belt off, the door open, and he had one foot out when they grabbed him.

"WHO FORGOT TO LOCK THE DOORS?!"

"HOLD ONTO HIM!"

"GET BACK IN HERE!"

He was yanked back into his seat and pinned, the door was closed, and he heard the locks engage. He was frantic now. "HELP! SOMEBODY HELP! CALL THE POLICE!"

"Wallace, get that canister!"

Reid heard a hiss and a gas canister with a mask on top of it came into his line of sight. He screamed and fought, but they held onto him and placed the mask over his face.

"It's okay, kid," the one holding him said into his ear. "There's hardly any drug in it-just enough to help you relax. Take a deep breath and it'll be okay."

There was a thick, cotton-candy kind of smell, almost like a candy store run amok. Reid thrashed, he kicked and twisted in their grip, but eventually the gas took effect and he felt his limbs grow heavy and his body relaxed. As soon as that happened, they removed the mask and turned off the canister.

"There. Better?" one of them asked.

Spencer ignored him. He was too sleepy to answer him anyway.

"Don't worry; it shouldn't affect your sobriety."

It had better not, Spencer thought savagely.

The drive was quiet after that and after a few minutes a blanket was taken out of a cupboard and spread over him. He felt drowsy and relaxed and with the blanket, wonderfully warm. He felt pretty good in spite of himself. His lassitude combined with the soothing hum of the car made him so relaxed that after a few more minutes, his eyes slid closed.

"Do you think he's asleep?" he heard after a few minutes.

"Asleep or out of it, the result's the same," someone answered. "The director said to keep this as pleasant as possible for him, but he's making that a challenge."

"Hey, I think we've done the best we can under the circumstances. I was surprised as hell when he went for the door. Never realized the kid had it in him."

"Maybe we'll be lucky and he'll sleep the whole way. I don't think my nerves could stand another attempt like that."

There was silence then and Spencer thought about his situation. They weren't going to kill him and they were trying their best not to hurt him, so those were two things in his favor. Once they got where they were going...he wasn't sure. He wished he had more information.

"Did the Director say what to do once we got him there?"

"Standard resettlement, and then he'll have lunch with the Director."

That sounded perfectly ominous.

They were quiet then, leaving Spencer to his frightening thoughts. He had no idea where they were going. That evening, he'd gone home from work not expecting anything more than curling up with a good book and here he was, in a car on his way to...somewhere. From their talk, he could tell that it would be a long trip, especially if he were having lunch with the Director, whoever he was. It was dinner time now, so they would probably be there some time tomorrow. Ergo, it was going to be a long trip. That just made him more nervous. Where were they going?

Time did something strange then. Either he fell asleep or he was so out of it that he blacked out, but suddenly he was waking up. The car doors were opening and the engine turned off and he was helped out of the car. "Wh-what?" he croaked through a mouth that felt stuffed full of cotton.

"You've been asleep a while. We need to get up those steps and into the plane."

His eyes finally focused and he saw a neat little jet, a lot like the one his team used to travel to cases. His brain caught up to his eyes and he shook his head. "No."

"No?" one of them echoed. "We can't drive there, kid."

"No, I'm not getting in that plane. You'll have to drag me."

"You're pretty skinny, Dr. Reid. I'm sure we can manage that. Don't they ever feed you at the FBI?"

Reid ignored that and stepped away from the car. He dropped the blanket, turned, and started to move as fast as he could away from the plane. He felt like he was running through waist-deep sand and that each of his legs weighed a hundred pounds, but he was not going down without a fight.

One of them-he still couldn't tell them apart-caught him before he got too far, and they did drag him to the plane and started pushing him up the stairs. He fought and yelled, but any punches or kicks he landed didn't have much power behind them, and soon they were inside the plane and he was pushed into a seat and held there until the door was closed and locked.

A man came back from the cockpit and another man came forward from the tail of the plane. "Everything all right?" They spoke almost in unison.

"Kid, do you have a fear of flying?"

Spencer shook his head, his fear waking him up a little. He was being kidnapped and the full force of it was hitting him. "No, I just don't want to be kidnapped."

He saw one of his kidnappers hide a smile.

Spencer's face flushed and his jaw tightened. "Sure, laugh it up," he snapped.

The man shook his head. "No, it wasn't what you said, it was the way you said it that was funny. You made it sound like you were saying you didn't want to go to the dentist or something like that."

Spencer ignored him and the two new men went back to where they'd come from. "You're not going to drug me again, are you?" he asked after a moment. He still felt foggy from the last time and he was sure that if he hadn't had the last remnants of the gas in his system, he might have gotten away.

"No need to. How are you feeling?"

"Pissed off."

"Ah, physically?"

"I have a headache, slightly nauseous, thirsty, I have an ache in my neck, and I feel foggy. And pissed off."

"Duly noted," the first man said as they heard the engines fire up. "There's a seat belt by your hip; do you need help putting it on?"

Spencer took the hint and fastened the belt. The rest of them took their seats and the first one called out, "We're stowed, Charlie!"

The plane started to taxi, it turned, taxied some more, and then it took off. Everyone unbuckled the belts once the plane was level and Spencer watched his abductors. They were relaxed and appeared used to traveling this way. He wondered if they'd done this before since their level of ease spoke of something they'd done before, and perhaps many times. What were they, an elite team of kidnappers?

That thought did not make him feel any better. Why would someone send an elite team of kidnappers after him?

Spencer fiddled with the band on his watch and checked the time. It read seven-thirty. Had they driven all night only to get on a plane? Where on earth were they taking him?

Half an hour later, all of them were busy with different things. One of them had pulled out a notebook and was jotting things down, two of them were checking their phones, and the last one had an issue of the Washington Post and was reading it.

"Here you go."

Spencer jumped. The man from the tail of the plane was holding a sealed bottle of water out to him. "What?"

"I heard you say you were thirsty."

Reid took the bottle and examined it. He saw nothing that led him to believe it was drugged-no pinpricks in the cap or neck of the bottle, and it was a brand that could be bought in any store. "Thanks."

"Drink it slow," the man advised. "Any food allergies?"

Spencer shook his head and opened the water. "No. Why?"

He smiled. "I'm Mark, and I'm your culinary genius for this flight. I'm in the middle of preparing breakfast and I wanted to be sure I didn't give you anything you shouldn't have." He clapped a hand on Spencer's shoulder. "I'll be back in a bit."

Spencer turned his head to watch him go, confused. "Breakfast?"

"Of course," one of the Evil Four said. "We didn't kidnap you to starve you, Dr. Reid."

"You said you would tell me where we're going, and you've evaded the question each time I've asked it," Spencer said, holding onto his patience. "Are you going to tell me?"

They all looked at each other. "It might be best if the Director told you. You might get confused, otherwise."

"If you know anything about me then you know that I'm smart enough to keep up with any explanation," Reid stated. "You know I help investigate kidnappings and disappearances in my work and right now, all the scary details of those cases are running through my head like cars through the Daytona 500. Please tell me so I can stop being so scared."

The driver nodded as if he understood. "Ah. Well, okay. We'll tell you the basics and then the Director can explain the rest. We're members of an organization called the Trust-the four of us, and Charlie and Mark are responsible for transporting individuals that the Director chooses."

"I gathered that," Reid said before taking a sip of water. It felt wonderful on his dry throat. "Just what is the Trust?"

"Well, they're all people who are gifted, like you. If they have exceptional gifts and the Director feels that they need a supportive and protective environment, then he orders them brought in."

"I have a supportive and protective environment," Reid snapped, angry that this Director felt he had the right to make this kind of decision for him. "I'm a member of the BAU."

"And you've been shot, attacked, kidnapped, drugged…"

"Well, you haven't shot me yet," Reid interrupted. "But the rest of it…"

"You know what I mean, Dr. Reid," the driver said firmly. "The Director ordered you brought in after that last unsub reached you in the BAU and held a gun to your head."

The man they were talking about had been the unsub in the last case. The man had figured out the BAU was on to him and had managed to make his way into the bullpen and to Spencer's desk. He had had a gun held to his head, but he'd been in a room full of armed people. The unsub hadn't had a chance. "He may have had a gun to my head, but here I am, without a scratch and without your help, so your argument's a little weak."

The driver nodded. "Okay. Still, the Director sent orders and we followed them."

"And you follow his orders without thinking about them?"

"We're well-paid."

Spencer nodded. He should have known.

"The Director said that you're too valuable an asset and too gifted an individual to risk losing, so he ordered you brought in," the driver continued. "Don't worry, once you settle in and get used to being there, the main campus for the Trust is a great place. Plenty of people say it's like a never-ending vacation."

Some part inside of Reid cringed. "Sounds boring."

"Nah, there'll be plenty of things for you to do, and the best part is that you'll be around people who are just like you and like all the same things you do," the driver assured him. "There's activities, classes, you'll be given projects to work on, and after you've been there a few years, they'll arrange for you to have trips off-campus."

Reid's ears clamped onto one word. "Years?"

Mark arrived then, pushing a cart laden with covered dishes. He set up tables in front of their seats, served breakfast, and wheeled himself out. Spencer stared down at the meal in front of him and tried to think. It looked like normal scrambled eggs, toast with butter, ham slices, and fruit salad. Dare he trust what was on that plate?

"You didn't have any dinner last night, and it'll be a while until you have lunch," the driver said, breaking into his thoughts. "You should eat."

His stomach's complaints decided him, so he started with the toast. Forty-five minutes later he'd managed a bit of everything that was on the plate and sat back in his chair, feeling somewhat better. That was when Mark arrived to clear away, and to Reid's eternal gratitude, he brought coffee with him. "Oh, yes," Reid breathed as Mark poured him a cup.

"A man needs his coffee," Mark remarked. "There's more in the back if you want it."

"Thank you," Spencer said gratefully, taking a sip. "Okay, that's slightly disturbing. How did you know how I took my coffee? This is perfect."

Mark nodded his head toward the Evil Four. "They told me."

Spencer thought about how they would know that, then about what they'd said about what had happened at the BAU, and he put it together. "How long have you guys had me under surveillance? What did you do, bug my apartment?"

"And your bag," the driver answered. "And to answer your question, for about two months."

Spencer wished that his plate hadn't been taken away so he could stab these men with the fork. He leaned back in his chair and thought about his situation and most importantly, how to get out of it.

He'd stayed wrapped in thought for the whole flight, only snapping out of his thoughts when he felt the plane shift and start to descend.

A chime over Reid's head went off. "This is your pilot speaking, we are circling for a landing. Please fasten your safety belts and prepare for landing."

Reid fastened his belt and looked at his kidnappers. "Once we land, what then?"

"There'll be a car waiting to take us from the airstrip to the main campus. You should be able to see it from your window."

Reid looked. He could see the airstrip, and...wait a minute. "It's not...is it an island?"

"A peninsula," the driver corrected.

Reid felt himself relax. If it wasn't an island, then his chances of escape would be much higher.

That was when he saw the place. There were a ton of buildings, manicured grounds, gardens, and paths leading down to the beaches. "This place is a resort?"

"Was a resort, but the Director found the place perfect for the campus he needed, so he had it converted. Looking forward to seeing more?"

Reid didn't answer. The plane landed and he was escorted out of it, and the heat hit him right away. It was at least eighty degrees and humid. He didn't get time to appreciate the warmth, though, since he was escorted down the steps and into a car. Before he could reach for the belt, one of them buckled it for him, and the car pulled away. They headed down a gravel road, through a stone arch, and they were there.

"Everyone calls this the Main Square," the man on his left said as they drove around a large, paved open area. "There's a campus exchange where you can shop, and over here is the Green. As you can see, it's a popular place when the weather is nice."

The Green looked like a park, with paths, benches, shady areas, an outdoor gym, and he could see some chess games being played, and, wait a minute. Were two of them playing 3-D chess?

He turned away, telling himself sternly that he was not interested. He wasn't going to stay here, no matter what. He would get away. "So, where are we going?"

"The wellness center. It's protocol for each new arrival to have a medical exam when they arrive."

"Great," Spencer ground out, feeling extremely irked. The only time he liked going to the doctor was when it was an appointment he'd made himself, and even then he didn't like it much. "Look, if we're going to be spending much more time together, how about you tell me your names? I can't keep thinking of you as the Evil Four."

All of them broke down laughing, even the driver.

"I didn't say that to be funny," Reid muttered.

"Oh, kid, we've been called worse," the driver said once he got his breath back.

"Band of Bastards, the Four Suck-eteers, Kidnaps R Us, and so on," the man on his right said. "All of you are real creative. I'm Wallace."

The name sounded familiar. "You're the one who gave me the gas."

"Sorry, kid. Orders are orders."

"Mm-hmm. And the rest of you?"

"Bell." That was the driver.

"Keller."

"Jackson."

"WBKJ?" Spencer said, putting the names together into an acronym. "Sounds like a radio station or something."

"Will bring kid geniuses?" Wallace said thoughtfully. "Nah, wrong letter."

"Keep thinking, I'm sure something appropriate will come to you," Spencer said, looking out the window.

Shortly after that they pulled up to a large building, all floor to ceiling windows. "Wellness center," Bell said. "Everybody out."

Spencer got out of the car and was nearly knocked over by the heat again. If anything, it was hotter than when he'd gotten off the plane, and being in the air-conditioned car had not helped him acclimatize himself to it. "Phew. Is it always this hot here?"

"It's always warm here, but it's not usually this humid. Been a lot of rain lately, so that's probably why. Come on."

They led Reid inside and up to a front desk. "This is Dr. Spencer Reid, newly arrived," Keller said to the woman behind it.

She typed something into a computer and nodded. "He's on Dr. White's schedule. Third floor."

"Thanks. Let's go, Dr. Reid. Elevators are over here."

The back of the elevator was all glass, so Reid could get a good look at the building. It was built in the shape of a horseshoe. "So, the wellness center is a hospital?"

"Yes and no," Wallace agreed. "The center part of the building is all the administrative offices. The branch we're in now is the health clinic. If you get sick or injured or if you need check-ups, medicine, or a visit with a dentist or optometrist, you come here. The Director made sure it's a pretty comprehensive place. We've even had some people have surgeries and treatment for cancer here."

That did not make Reid feel much better. "Okay. What about the other branch?"

"There's a fitness gym, a few rooms and a pool for hydrotherapy, a studio for things like yoga, pilates, aerobics, and so on, and there's a spa. You can get a haircut, your nails done, a massage, acupuncture, physical therapy for injuries...like I said, it's a comprehensive place."

"That sounds like it needs a lot of staff," Reid said after a moment. "Are they all well-paid?"

"I'm sure they are."

Dr. White's office looked just like any other doctor's office, but the decor was more lush than what he was used to seeing. A nurse called Spencer's name, just like in a regular office, and took him back to a triage area.

"Okay, shoes, jacket, and sweater off so we can get your weight," she said, once she'd closed the door. "Go head and step onto the scale, please."

Reid ignored the request. "Listen, I'm a kidnap victim," he said quickly, grasping her shoulders. "Those men brought me here against my will and I have to get away…"

"Everyone brought here is a kidnap victim," she said calmly. "That is, those who aren't staff are kidnap victims. I'm staff, and I do my job. Do I have to call some orderlies to help you?"

"You're okay with helping to imprison people?" Spencer snapped, stepping away from her.

"I'm okay with doing my job," she answered. "This is your last chance before I call some orderlies, so what is it going to be?"

Spencer glared at her, but he removed his shoes, jacket and sweater, just as she asked, and she took his weight. After that she took his height, blood pressure, and temperature, and led him to an exam room.

"Please wait here, Dr. White will be in in a minute," she said, and then she paused. "If you get the urge to take a walk, you should be aware that there are orderlies patrolling the halls. The exam is the point where a lot of new arrivals try to run. They don't get far."

"I bet," Reid muttered, dropping into a chair. "I'll stay put."

She left and as soon as the door was closed Reid was up and pacing. He had to think. He had to figure out a way to get away from this place. He wished with all his heart that his teammates were here. He'd always felt that they could pull together and accomplish almost anything, and a situation like this...well, they'd manage it.

A knock on the door heralded Dr. White's arrival, and what followed was a standard medical exam with the usual questions. Reid had his heart and lungs listened to, his reflexes checked, and his eyes, ears, and throat examined. Dr. White checked his abdomen and joints and range of motion and started typing into a computer. "Well, I can say you're in excellent health, if a little underweight. I think you're the type to get so involved in what you're doing that you forget to eat, so I'm going to submit a nutritional plan to the dining hall to make sure you get all the nutrients you need. I'd also recommend some yoga or pilates or even some physical therapy to help you loosen up a little. A weekly massage wouldn't hurt, either. All that tension you're carrying might cause you some discomfort down the line. Think about it and let me know which you'd like to try. Unless you become injured or sick, I'll see you back here in six months, all right?"

"If I'm here," Reid said, gathering his sweater and jacket.

"You'll be here," Dr. white said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "I'll walk you out."

"Now what?" Reid asked as soon as Dr. White had returned him to his escorts.

Wallace stood up and tucked his phone into a pocket. "We take you to the Director."