I hope you enjoy this.
Chapter Nine:
Prentiss stifled a yawn as she entered the French Interpol offices. She was introduced to Paul Bernard and Victor Petit. They were the top-ranking officials the stationed in France.
Bernard pulled out a printout of the text Garcia sent.
"Do you know who this woman is?" Bernard asked.
"I knew her as my friend's wife," she said.
"But he was reported dead four years ago," Petit said. "Does the source who sent you this information have solid proof he is alive?"
"I trust her with my life," Prentiss said. "I don't think she'd lie about this."
"Why do you think she asked you to run a facial recognition program, when she herself probably has the resources?"
"I don't know," she said. "But if I had to guess, it probably had something to with not wanting her bosses to know she was pursuing this as a side job."
"Can we contact her now?" Bernard asked.
"Sure," she said. "But can I ask what this is about?"
Bernard and Petit looked to each other.
"Have you heard of Victoria Volkov, Marie Legrand, and Amelia Weber?" Petit asked.
"Of course," she said. "They among the most wanted women in Europe for things ranging from drug smuggling, to espionage, to—" Prentiss stopped. "Wait, are they all the same woman I knew as Julia?"
Bernard nodded. "We think there are more, but those are the ones we know of for certain."
"I don't understand," Prentiss said. "She built a life in America before she met Spencer. She carried his child. Not many people who do what she does have that kind of patience."
"We believe she was still doing other work while engaged with Spencer Reid," Petit said. "He also wasn't her last victim in terms of giving birth to a sparrow."
"Do you know her real Russian name?" Prentiss asked.
"We think it might be Vera," Bernard said. "Or that is the name most commonly used when she is working for the Russians."
"I think we've answered enough of your questions," Petit said. "Will you please call your source and put it on speaker phone?"
"Okay," she said and dialed Garcia.
"Emily," Garcia said. "Thank you for getting back to me so quickly."
"Garcia, you're on speaker phone with some officials from Interpol."
"Who is your source on Spencer Reid's survival?" Petit asked.
"A woman I only know as Arnica," Garcia said. "Her sister is danger because she is helping my friend."
"Can you put us in contact with her?" Bernard asked.
"Sir, I can but I'm not sure she'll cooperate without some guarantees for the safety of her family."
"That is not a problem," Petit said. "What we're interested in is retrieving Spencer Reid."
Something hit Prentiss. "You want to use him to trap Vera," she said suddenly.
"No!" Garcia said. "He's been through enough!"
Bernard put his hands on the table. "You ladies truly have no idea how dangerous this woman is! She has killed least dozens of people with her bare hands and responsible for the deaths of over a thousand that we know of. Putting your friend in a small amount of danger while setting a larger trap is a small price to pay."
"It doesn't sound like we have much of choice," Prentiss said.
"We will make your lives infinitely more difficult if you do not cooperate with us," Petit said.
"So, it's the carrot or the stick approach," Prentiss said. "I think we need to cooperate with them Garcia."
"Make sure that Spencer is put in as little danger as possible," Garcia said. "And promise Arnica's family is safe."
"Fine," Bernard said and turned to Prentiss. "I'm guessing you want something too?"
"I want to be Reid's handler," Prentiss said. "He knows and trusts me."
"We'll put you on the first plane to Moscow," Petit said.
Bernard turned to Prentiss' phone.
"Put me in contact with Arnica."
…
They left Elena and Marat's house just after dinner. They were moved into a truck carrying clothing. Spencer carried his own small duffle bag of clothes and hugged it close to him when he sat down.
"Be well and good luck," Elena said before the door was closed.
Once again, they were on the road and didn't know where they were going. Raisa cradled the computer in her arms. Sokolov sat next to Spencer. He wanted to hold the man in his arms like he did during the first days they were on the road. But now, there was something cold and hard in Spencer's eyes. Though hardly any heavier, his presence carried a deeper weight.
"Spencer," Sokolov said. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine," he said tersely.
"You are not," he said. "How are you feeling?"
"The woman I loved betrayed me, and I probably won't ever see my daughter again," he flatly. "I am not fine, but I'm trying to hold it together as best I can."
"We'll find your daughter," Sokolov said.
"It's been four years, Andrei!" Spencer said angrily. "If Julia is at least as smart as I think she is, she will have hidden her, in a way that will be impossible to track."
"But you can't give up," he said.
"I will go crazy if I try to find her," he said. "The best I can do is seek vengeance for the loss of her innocence."
"That is a dangerous path, Spencer," Sokolov said.
"It is my choice," he said.
"Spencer—"
"Andrei," Raisa said. "Enough."
"What?"
"Now is not the time to discuss these things," she said. "We still have a long journey ahead of us. We'll decide when we reach the next stop."
"Okay," he said. His wife had a point.
After another half hour, the driver stopped suddenly. They made no sound as they heard him get out of the car. Only muffled voices could be heard. The sound of footsteps and the doors were opened.
A man appeared with a tablet and presented it to Raisa.
"There has been a change of plans," Albina said in a dark silhouette. "Spencer's friend in the NSA negotiated you to continue to use my network to leave the country, but he has to join the Interpol agent continue his journey with him."
"What!?" Sokolov shouted.
"The decision has already been made Andrei," she said.
"What about what Spencer wants?" Sokolov asked.
Spencer turned to the man. "You want me to help you hunt down my wife," he said as a statement.
"Yes," he said.
Spencer got up from his sitting position.
"There is no more need for discussion then," he said.
"Spencer, you're not strong enough!" Sokolov said. "You've been through so much and now you're risking your life to be bait?"
Spencer suddenly reached over and hugged him. "I don't expect you to understand. Thank you for everything."
"I don't want you to go," he said as tears filled his eyes.
"It is the safest thing for you," he said.
He let go before Sokolov was ready and turned to Raisa.
"You'll always be in my thoughts," he said. "Gratitude barely begins to describe what I feel for you."
Raisa suddenly put down the tablet and hugged him.
"I hope you find peace in the future, friend."
"I do too."
He turned to the screen.
"I am guessing you have come believe you are citizen of no country. But by helping people escape harm, no country truly deserves your loyalty to the cause of showing kindness to everyone."
"I think that is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me," Albina said. "Thank you and good luck."
"Be safe," he said.
He got out of the truck and pulled out the small bag he could barely carry.
"I love you both," he said. "Thank you," he said.
The man took the tablet and lead Spencer to another car. Their driver closed the door. They were on their way.
Sokolov burst into tears. Raisa moved next to him and snuggled to his side.
"What do we do now?" he said.
"I don't know," she said. "But we have each other and that is enough for me."
"I'll never stop thinking about him," he said.
"Neither will I," she said.
Sokolov held on to her tightly. He hoped that Spencer would be safe.
…
Prentiss was exhausted by the time she got to Moscow. She forgot how the time differences affected her. The plane ride wasn't exactly comfortable either. But underneath all her tiredness, there was a desire to see Reid alive.
She had been told that she and Spencer would be sharing a room. He had supposedly been there most of the day. Still, she knocked first to give him a warning. When he didn't answer, she used her key to get in.
At first, she didn't see him. It was a standard hotel room with two beds, a chest of drawers, and a desk. Then she saw a pillow under the desk.
She gently approached him and nearly burst into tears. His face and hands were covered in bruises. While the red dress shirt and slacks looked new, they didn't entirely conceal how much weight he had lost.
"Emily?" he said looking up at her from his book on what looked like Russian literature.
"Reid," she said.
"Is it really you?" he said in Russian.
"Why are you speaking in Russian?" she asked.
He paused. "I, it all I have known for the last four years," he said in English as tears fell down.
She couldn't stop herself. Prentiss pushed the book away and put her arms around him.
"I thought you were dead," she cried. "It broke me Spencer! It didn't seem fair that after all you went through, you'd end up dead. Now it seems so much worse."
He crawled out from under the desk and continued to embrace her.
"I don't know who I am anymore," he said as his voice began to shake. "I don't know who I want to be."
They were on the floor hugging each other.
"Be my friend," she said. "Be my friend who is brave, kind, and smart."
"I'll be anything for you, Emily," he said.
She sighed. "Let's get you to bed."
"Don't leave me," he said. "You're the first thing that has felt real in a long time."
"I won't," she said. Prentiss got up and then helped him stand up. She gently laid him in bed. After pulling off his shoes and kicking off hers, she got into bed beside him. Prentiss latched on to him just as he reached for her. Their bodies were intertwined as they fell asleep.