Chapter 12

Aaron's eyes opened and he stretched, feeling a bit better than he had when he'd gone to sleep the night before. True, he almost hadn't gone to sleep, but Rossi had stepped in. Aaron still couldn't believe that they'd all just given in and done as he'd said, but Aaron supposed that being an old profiling hand had helped Rossi get them to do what he wanted.

It had been close to one early that morning when Rossi stood up at the table in the conference room. "Okay, I've got something to say."

Bleary eyes stared up at him, and Aaron brought his head up from the papers he'd been reading. 'What is it, Dave?"

"How much good do you think we're going to do the kid if we're all too exhausted to think?"

"We finally have a lead," Derek reminded him.

"I know."

"So, what's your point?" Emily asked, her brain clearly not working.

"My point is that we've gotten ourselves all so excited over this lead that we've been working non-stop. We need to sleep so we can work better."

"Reid's been kidnapped and he's being held prisoner someplace," Penelope protested. "I don't want him to have to spend a second longer there than necessary."

"They went to a lot of trouble to take Reid alive, which means they have a use for him," Rossi pointed out. "That means they'll keep him alive, and if he's as important to their organization as he is to the BAU, then they'll not just keep him alive, they're going to take care of him."

All of them were too tired to notice the point that Rossi had left out: that Reid might not be as important to his kidnappers as he was to the BAU, but his premise was still true. They'd taken Reid alive, so they had to assume that he was still alive. They had the two letters from him as proof that he was all right.

"All I'm saying is that when you're tired, you miss things," Rossi continued. "What if we miss something that might get Reid home sooner?"

"Okay, put that way, I think I can see where you're going with this," J.J. said after a moment. "You want us all to get some sleep?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," he said, giving her a warm, Rossi smile. "I say we all turn in, get some shut-eye, and then we come back to this after breakfast tomorrow morning. We'll all be much more the thing after some rest and food."

Aaron nodded and got to his feet. "Okay, what you're saying is sensible. We're all going to get some sleep and not at our desks, and we'll meet for breakfast here at eight. We definitely need some rest."

"Wonderful," Rossi said, giving them a beatific smile. "I'll arrange for some bunks for those of us who do not have sofas to crash on."

Rossi was as good as his word. Blankets and pillows had been provided for the sofa sleepers and Emily and Penelope bunked down on cots in J.J's office while J.J. took the sofa she'd somehow squeezed into her office by cunningly re-arranging her filing cabinets and paperwork. Derek bedded down on a cot in Rossi's office, and because he was team leader, Aaron got his office all to himself. He fell asleep almost immediately, and he woke up just after seven. He could understand now why Rossi had insisted they all get some rest: He felt as if his mind had finally woken up. He got up, changed into some workout gear for a short run outside (the sunshine and fresh, bracing air made him feel like a million bucks) before heading back inside to hit the showers and change into one of the suits that he kept at the office. He walked into the conference room just as Rossi was unwrapping their freshly-delivered breakfast.

"You look much better," Dave said, looking up from the aluminum pan of steaming breakfast sandwiches.

"I feel much better," Aaron admitted, taking picking up a paper plate and helping himself to a sandwich. The next pan held fruit salad, so he served himself two big spoonfuls of that and made himself a cup of coffee.

"Well, look who's all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed!" Rossi said happily as the rest of the team wandered in. "Breakfast is ready and the coffee is hot. Let's get cracking, huh?"

Everybody fixed themselves plates of food and containers of coffee and settled back into work. They were reviewing Reid's letters, notes on the other victims, and maps of possible locations of where they might be holding Reid. There were a few places that looked likely (privately Hotch wondered why the Fates couldn't favor them and have just one possible location) but the available maps didn't quite match the map Reid had drawn. Such discrepancies were making it difficult to look at any location too closely since they were afraid of wasting time with false leads.

"Agent Rossi?"

Rossi looked up from his papers and nodded at the staff member in the doorway.

"You have a guest, sir. He said that if this isn't a trap, he'd be happy to see you?"

Hotch had never heard anyone sound so confused in his life and Rossi started laughing.

"No, no, bring him up. Tell him I can't wait to see him."

"Yes, sir."

Derek looked over at Rossi. "If it isn't a trap?"

"Looks like he decided to be his own messenger," Rossi said happily. "Remember my old buddy I told you about and he said he would send us some info?"

Emily grinned. "I see."

A minute later the staff member led a man dressed in worn denim and biking boots into the conference room and then he made himself scarce, looking as if he wasn't quite sure what had hit him. The new arrival was thin, whipcord and bone with an attitude. He saw Rossi and grinned. "Dave. See you're still working for the government."

Dave grinned back and got to his feet. "Hi, Scott. Good to see you."

Scott gave Dave a boa constrictor-type hug. "Good to see you, too!" He reached into the leather backpack he was carrying and handed Rossi several manila envelopes. "Here's that information I promised you. If the guilty party is the person I'm thinking of, you guys have your work cut out for you. This guy's been operating for a while and he's got his fingers in a great many pies."

That caught Hotch's attention. "Is there anything you can share with us on him?"

Scott looked at him and a suspicious glint bled into his eyes that matched perfectly with his weathered, whiskered face. "Maybe. Who are you?"

"Scott, allow me to introduce my team," Rossi said grandly. "This is SSA Aaron Hotchner, our team leader. SSA Derek Morgan, SSA Emily Prentiss, SSA J.J. Jareau, our media liaison, and our own Penelope Garcia, technical analyst and communications specialist extraordinaire."

Scott stared around at all of them. "I'm not going to be interrogated and then disappear, am I?"

"No, that's the CIA," Dave joked. "We're the FBI. Totally different place. Besides, if anyone wants to take you, they'll have to go through all of us to do it."

"And I'd lay odds that our baby girl Penelope would be able to make their lives a living hell before they could even get close to you," Derek said, getting up to shake Scott's hand.

Scott looked Derek up and down and shook his hand, and he looked as if he didn't trust Hotch at all, but he was more than gallant with the ladies. Emily fought hard not to break down laughing as he kissed the back of her hand and she glanced at Rossi as if to say, Yep, I can tell this guy is your friend.

It took very little coaxing on Rossi's part to get Scott to talk to them, and he was there so long that they invited him to stay for lunch. In the intervening hours, they were able to see that the supposed guilty party had managed to build a web of contracts and his own operatives and employees across the world. The one thing that Scott and his contacts hadn't managed to find was the guy's name; the only name anyone ever heard was "Director."

"Fits with Reid's letters," Morgan sighed. "Creepy as all get-out, though."

"What I don't understand is why you drove all this way to bring the information yourself," Rossi said as they dug into soup and hot sandwiches.

"Why trust a messenger when I can just as easily get the job done myself?" Scott pointed out. "Besides, I couldn't let an old buddy of mine go up against this Director character solo. He's dangerous."

"So's my team," Rossi said with a smile that boded no good for the Director. It was only a matter of time before they followed the breadcrumbs Reid had left for them and found him.

Reid woke up the following morning feeling as if he were shaking apart on the inside. He knew the feeling for what it was; it was shock. He was still struggling to deal with what had happened last night, but his mind had taken refuge in sleep rather than in processing events. Part of him wished he could have stayed asleep rather than wake up, but his body required a few things that he had to take care of.

He sat up in bed and spotted the open door right away, and it led to where he hoped it would lead. It was a plain bathroom, with a toilet, sink, and shower stall, and that was it. Towels and other linens and supplies were in a cabinet in the corner. He took care of the needful, washed his hands, splashed water on his face, and then took several long swallows of water from the tap. He was thirsty after being asleep so long, but he had no idea just how long he'd been out.

He returned to the bedroom after that. Like the bathroom, it was a plain and bare room. No pictures on the wall, no television, no bookshelves, no rugs on the wooden floor, and there was only one small window above his head on the far wall. A mirror was built into the right-hand wall and Spencer scoffed when he saw it. After spending years working at the BAU, he could recognize a two-way mirror when he saw it. There was no furniture aside from the bed, a small bedside table with a lamp on it, and a table and chair. A plastic carafe holding water and a drinking tumbler stood on the table, so he poured himself a glass of water and drank it down before crawling back into bed. If it were possible, he would spend as much time as he could asleep so he didn't have to be awake.

It took a few minutes, but he did fall back asleep and was so deeply asleep that he was dreaming when a sound made him start to wake up. He fought against it, tried to stay asleep, but a lovely aroma scented by his body was making him wake up against his will. He awoke to the smell of buttered toast and sat up. A breakfast tray had been left on the table. Briefly he debated going back to sleep, but his stomach demanded food, now. He went to the table and examined the tray: buttered toast, a carton of milk, a bowl of frosted flakes, a container of strawberry yogurt, and a banana. A plain meal in a painfully plain room. Oh, well. He made short work of it and went back to bed. The carbs should put him back to sleep with no problem.

He woke again at a similar sound a few hours later and saw that another tray had been left. Beef stew with plenty of vegetables, bread and butter, an apple, and another carton of milk. The water carafe had been re-filled and the breakfast tray had been taken away. He wasn't really hungry, so he left most of the food on the tray and lay back down, still tired to his core. A great deal of stress in a short time could cause fatigue, and at the moment, Spencer really didn't care that he was experiencing it. He just wanted to sleep.

He woke later to the sound of thunder, sometime in the mid-afternoon, perhaps. With a groan he lifted himself out of bed and wandered into the bathroom, still sleepy. He used the facilities, washed his hands, and burrowed back into the pillows and blankets. He wondered briefly what Sean and the others were doing, then decided to change his line of thought. Thinking about what everyone else was doing while he was stuck in this room was not the way to go! Instead, he started thinking about Zeno's paradoxes. Could anyone ever get anywhere if they always had half a distance to go before they covered half the distance and so on to their destination? Was all travel just an illusion?

He fell asleep with his mind still considering distances. His thoughts continued in his dreams, with his mind considering distances and how mankind measured them and thought about them. Maps and lines of latitude and longitude flashed through his head, aligning themselves and then re-aligning around the mental map he kept in his mind of the campus. Numbers flashed through his mind's eye and a final pattern solidified.

A loud bang jerked him awake, startling him so badly that he almost toppled off the bed. What the hell was happening now?

"I said let go of me!" Reid heard James's muffled voice bellow.

"You are going to see what your actions have caused!" Reid heard the Director bellow back. "You knew the rules and you knew what would happen if you broke them!"

There was the sound of a scuffle and then a metallic thump. It sounded like someone being wrestled into a folding metal chair.

"What is he doing in there?"

Hearing that, Reid knew they were both behind the two-way mirror. Sighing, he rolled over and nestled into the pillows. He hoped they'd shut up soon so he could get back to sleep.

"I told you when you arrived that someone else would face consequences for any misbehavior on your part. You ran away; these are the consequences."

"You sadistic bastard…"

"Think twice before you swing on me, young man," Reid heard the Director snarl. "There are consequences for violence, and they won't be faced by you."

Reid heard another thump that sounded like James had dropped back into the chair. "I don't get this. I know why you said you brought everyone else here, but what I don't get is why you brought me here!"

"I have my reasons."

"And you've yet to tell me what they are!"

Reid wondered if they'd forgotten he could possibly hear them.

"I told you when you arrived that I would explain everything one day, but that is not today."

Silence. Then, James spoke. "What can I do?"

"Excuse me?"

"What can I do to get him out of there?" James elaborated. "You can ask me to do anything, and I'll do it. It's not fair that he's stuck in there when I'm the one who broke the rules."

"No."

"Come on," James complained. "There must be something you want from me. You took the trouble to have me brought here. You could ask for anything, and I would do it, but first you have to let him out."

Reid could imagine the Director considering this. "No, I'm sorry, James. The consequence stands; but I will allow you to win him some privileges."

"Like what?"

"Some books and music to make the time go faster," the Director offered. "Since he was put into this room, he's done nothing but sleep. Surely reading and listening to music is better than sleeping all the time?"

"What about visitors?"

"There's a reason the punishment is called 'isolation,' young man. Now, are you interested in what you have to do to get him some privileges?"

James must have nodded since the Director carried on. "First, you and I will continue having our meals together. During these meals you and I will talk in a civilized manner. I will ask you questions about yourself and you will answer them, and I would be glad to answer some questions for you in exchange. My only caveat is that there are some questions I can't answer, so if I say so, you'll have to leave a topic alone. Once a day, you and I will do an activity together, and you are welcome to choose them, if you like. Unless there is an evening activity you would like to do, we will spend our evenings together, in the sitting room, where, once again, you and I will converse in a pleasant manner and spend our time in quiet pastimes. If you follow these rules for the rest of Dr. Reid's isolation, I will see to it that he's provided with new books each day and a music player for him to listen to. Any misbehavior on your part will result in loss of these items for Dr. Reid for the next day. Do you understand?"

"That's what you want me to do?" James said in disbelief, his voice rising. "You ARE crazy!"

Reid decided to remind James just what was at stake. If you looked at the situation as one of one person owing another, then James owed him. Feeling his frustration hit boiling point, Reid sat up, glared at the mirror, and threw a spare pillow at it with all his strength. A loud fwump! from the pillow made silence fall behind it. He could imagine both of them being surprised at suddenly being dive-bombed by a pillow.

"I don't know what you two are talking about, but could you at least stop yelling? I'm trying to sleep!"

Silence. Then, Reid heard a door open and close. Good. He rolled back over and closed his eyes. Part of him really wanted those books and some music, but it was a small part. If the Director was hoping that the books and a music player might make Reid think a little less harshly of him, then he had a good many other thinks coming. Being locked up had helped his mind become more focused: It might not happen quickly, but Reid was going to get out of there, and he was going to make sure that the Director could never hurt anyone ever again.

It was half-past eleven that night when Aaron leaned back in his seat and palmed his tired eyes. They'd been working all day on Scott's files and he was sure that the rest of his team felt as overwhelmed as he did. There was a lot more information than they'd originally suspected existed. There was so much more information in hard-copy than Penelope had been able to find electronically, which mean this guy had been up to things for a lot longer than they'd thought. "Scott, you weren't kidding about this guy."

Scott looked up from the maps he was studying and nodded. "Yep. He's one of the biggest and most well-kept secrets I've ever come across, and don't think that doesn't frighten me."

Penelope looked up from the laptop she was typing on. "Never said a truer word. I've been inputting all this information you gave us and the patterns it reveals are...well, like you said. Frightening. Using that information, geographically, the closest I can pinpoint the possible locations where Reid might be is the southern United States, like Florida or the Gulf coast. At a stretch, maybe somewhere in the Florida Keys or the Bahamas, but so far, nothing's really matching."

"How many possible locations are there?" J.J. asked.

Penelope checked her screen. "Final count? Fifteen, with another possible two. Could be a peninsula on one of the larger islands down there, a peninsula off Florida or perhaps Louisiana...it's killing me that I just don't know."

"There has to be a way to figure out Reid's location," Emily sighed.

"Why don't we go and see?"

Everyone turned to stare at Scott.

"You guys are hopeless," he said, seeing them all stare at him in surprise. "You already know where he is, you just don't know for sure where he is. Short of a big sign showing up on one of these maps reading HERE I AM! you won't know which location he's in until you find the ones he's not in."

"Okay, I see your point, but how do you propose we eliminate locations?"

"Go there and see," Scott insisted. "Do I have to do all the thinking?"

"I'm sure a bunch of random strangers will love seeing the FBI showing up on their doorsteps," Hotch said.

"So, don't be FBI. Be a lost tourist or something. That way, you can scope a place out and see if you recognize any of the guys who took your friend."

"They've had Reid under observation, which means they've probably seen us at one time or another," Dave reminded Scott. A second later, Rossi looked very thoughtful. "In fact, the only person in this room they wouldn't recognize would probably be you."

Scott looked up with an expression in his eyes that suggested a deer meeting headlights. "What?"

A second later, everyone, except Scott, was grinning.

A/N: The Plot Bunny is now the Director. Someone send the team to save me.