So, dear readers, we meet again…I am delighted you are here.
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of the cannon characters, and am making no profit.
Warning: language and references to non-con and child abuse. You have been warned.
Chapter 10-Macncheez
Right as the program ended, Bonnie the CNA again entered the room with a meal tray and a smile. Arranging the table with practiced ease, she sat down the tray and greeted "Hello boys! Everything going OK in here?" "Uh-huh" responded Spencer with a small answering smile as he eagerly eyed the tray. Food again! He was really beginning to like this place, despite all the noise.
"I heard that someone in this room REALLY likes macaroni and cheese. Could that be you sweetheart?" Bonnie asked the boy as she tucked a napkin in his lap. The child nodded his head, "My mommy use ta make it fo me!"
"Well, then you are going to like your lunch 'cause guess what Nurse Ann ordered you?" exclaimed Bonnie as she removed the plate cover with a flourish. "Macncheez!" the boy squealed excitedly, as he grabbed the fork and dove in, making quick work of the entrée.
"Please, thank Ann for me. That was very sweet of her to remember." Said Hotch with a touched expression.
"No problem" responded the aid, "and he's on regular diet tomorrow so don't forget to help him fill out a menu card-it's on the table. Now, what about you? I'm sure I could find an extra tray lying around somewhere," she offered.
"No, but thanks. Agent Morgan will be up soon to guard Spencer, and I'll grab something on my way to the station. I'll be back by 6:00, but let me leave my cell number in case you or Dr. Martin needs to contact me." Hotch responded.
"Good idea," Bonnie agreed as she pulled a pen and note pad from one of the many pockets in her cargo pants. "Just write it here for me and I'll post it on the chart at the front desk."
As Hotch scribbled on the pad, the door opened again to admit Derek Morgan, who sauntered in holding a bag from a well-known sandwich chain, handing it off to his chief as the pad was returned to the waiting aid. "I am under strict orders from Garcia to make sure you get fed" Morgan said by way of greeting, "and you KNOW I'm not getting on that woman's bad side, so you best eat it" Morgan grinned.
"Thanks, I will. Spencer, you remember Uncle Derek don't you?" Hotch asked, turning toward the child, who had just about finished his tray, but was struggling to open the milk. "Uh-huh" Spencer answered. "Daddy help?" he queried, holding up the ragged carton. "Of course, Buddy", and smiling gently Hotch opened the milk and dropped in a straw from the supply Ann had left on the nightstand. The boy sipped happily then speared his last bite of macaroni, chewing happily with cheese sauce smeared around his mouth. Morgan secretly snapped a photo with his phone, and sent it to Garcia. He also had orders to get cute pictures.
Hotch fetched a damp cloth from the bathroom, and washed Spencer's face and hands, gentle smile on his face. "Good job Spencer!" he praised, "You cleaned your plate." The boy returned his smile, looking content. "Now, Daddy has to leave for a little while to work" he continued, "and Uncle Derek will stay with you and keep you safe. I'll be back at about 6:00 and we'll eat dinner together, OK?"
"OK…Daddy be careful right? Not get hurt by bad mans?" the boy queried nervously. "Yes, Buddy, I'll be careful, I promise" responded the touched section chief. "Morgan, feel free to call me if you need to. Spencer needs a snack about 3:00-just ask Bonnie. Otherwise, see you about 6:00."
"Don't worry, I got this" reassured Derek, "Me and the little man will have a great afternoon."
After reluctantly taking his leave, Hotch munched the sandwich as he drove to join the others at the police precinct station. Hard as it was, he redirected his thoughts from Spencer to the case. There had to be some reason the majority of the captive women in this ring had stayed under the radar. And why the sudden change to local women who were reported missing, along with the murder of one victim's sister…it just didn't make sense. Either someone decided to stop playing by the rules…or someone new joined the ring and made their own rules. The older brother, Duncan, perhaps?
Meanwhile, back at the hospital, Derek Morgan produced a pad of paper and pack of colored pencils, handing them over to his charge with directions that he draw whatever he pleased. After thanking his benefactor, Spencer immediately busied himself drawing incredibly life-like meerkats like those he had just seen on the TV. After a few pages were drawn, Derek asked the boy if he could remember what the first pretty ladies he had seen looked like. After nodding yes, he asked if Derek would like him to draw them. At Morgan's assent, he began busily drawing portraits of stunning detail and clarity. As each was completed Morgan photographed them and sent them to Garcia to research. Soon it was 3, and Morgan used the call button to request Spencer's snack. Bonnie soon bustled in with a carton of milk and a cup of pudding for the boy, which he happily consumed. He definitely liked all the food coming his way after years of deprivation! Returning to his portraits, Spencer produced several more before he was interrupted by the arrival of a man pushing a wheelchair.
"I'm here to take the boy to X-ray" stated the rotund brunette in a thick accent, nervously tugging down his ill-fitting scrub top, eyes darting from Spencer to his imposing guardian.
Morgan reached to push the call button, other hand hovering over his holster, intent on checking out the man's story when the door flew open and the guard walked in backward, hands up, eyes fixed on the gun in the hand of the dark clothed person he was facing. "FBI!" barked Morgan, gun drawn and pointed at the center of the interloper's chest, trying to see past the shadows cast by the floppy hat and long black hair sported by his target. "Lower your weapon and get down on your knees, don't even think about it!" ordered the agent, in firing stance and ready for action. Gesturing with their weapon, the figure directed the guard to stand next to the now sweating man with the wheelchair, who also raised his hands. "Uh-Uh Agent Morgan, put down your weapon and kick it to me or I shoot them and then the brat" came an electronic sounding voice from the intruder. "Do it NOW!"
"Nooo, I don't think so. You'll be dead before you finish pulling the trigger. Drop the gun, now, and put your hands behind your head. There are three of us and only one of you. There is no way you'll get to the boy. Just do as I say and you still walk out of here alive. Now, drop the gun and put your hands behind your head!" demanded Morgan in his fiercest tone.
At a nod from the dark figure, wheel chair man suddenly reached into the guard's holster and withdrew the man's gun, flipping off the safety and cocking it with practiced ease. "I am afraid it is not so very simple as that Agent" smirked the now confident man as he pointed the weapon at a terrified Spencer's head. "You will now lower your weapon immediately or the boy dies."
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Hotch walked into the conference room the police had provided them for workspace still musing over the apparent change in victimology, as his cell rang. "Hotchner" he answered, shutting the door behind him and signaling the rest of the team over as he put the phone on speaker. "You've got me, Rossi, Prentiss and JJ on speaker Garcia. What do you have?"
"The rape kit is back on that poor baby, and Sir there was DNA from 7 different scumbags found in and on that little angel. SEVEN! How could they!" she near sobbed. "Three samples match known unsubs-Thompson, That SOB father William, and of course Scott McCormick. One of the other samples did match convicted pedophile Walter Payne of Las Vegas, Nevada and before you ask, his address was sent to your PDAs. The other 3 bastards are not in any of the databases I have checked so far, but Interpol is running them as well because of the possible connection with the Russian Mob and they aren't done yet. Meanwhile, check the fax-so far we have positive IDs on 3 of the women Spencer drew today, and"
"What do you mean today Garcia?!" interrupted a surprised Hotch. "Do you mean more drawings were found today?"
"No sir" responded the puzzled tech, "I mean the pictures he's been drawing this afternoon. Morgan has been getting photos with his cell and having me run them through the facial recognition software. They're of the other women Spencer saw in the basement…you didn't know? He is quite the little artist."
"No," sighed the tired unit chief, pinching the bridge of his nose as he sat heavily in one of the chairs, "But I should have thought of it. Keep faxing data as you get it, and send all of the pictures now. Tell Morgan not to have him overdo it. He's still recovering and needs rest. And Garcia, watch your language when on speaker?"
"Uhm yes sir, sorry sir, I was just so angry, and I won't do it again." Apologized the shaken tech goddess.
"Understandable this time. I'll check back with your progress later" he replied, a ghost of a smile on his lips as he snapped closed his phone and pocketed it. "Dave, could you please ask our hosts to pick up Mr. Payne?"
As the afternoon progressed it became quite obvious that there had indeed been a major change in victimology. The first 3 identified women were all reported missing from London during the 2012 Olympic Games, ranged in age from 17 to 19, and had traveled there from the US. Other than country of origin nothing linked the girls. One was blonde and white, one Hispanic with died auburn hair, and one Asian with long black curls. Having posted all of Spencer's work on the evidence board, Hotch and Rossi stood back and looked for any similarities, and there were none. The women were of multiple races and ethnicities, including several appearing to be of Eastern European origin. So far there were 11 drawings and it was nearly 4:00. Hotch decided it was time for Spencer to take a nap before dinner and put a call through to Morgan. It went to voicemail after multiple rings. He tried again with the same results. His next call was to the hospital nurses station, panic beginning to bloom in his chest.
"This is Agent Hotchner with the FBI, I am the guardian of Spencer Reid. The agent I left him with is not answering the phone. I need you to look now and tell me if you see the hospital security guard in front of Spencer's door." directed Hotch, trying to keep his breathing even and steady as he counted the seconds until the unit secretary that answered returned.
"Oh My God, he isn't there! The door is closed and there is no-one sitting there. I'm calling security to initiate a Code Adam, and the police." the woman told him urgently as she hung up the phone.
The four agents were already headed out the door; jumping Into one of the SUVs they'd been given to use they squealed out of the parking lot, siren and lights blazing. They arrived at the hospital in record time, their badges held out to the security who let them through the locked doors. Piling up the stairs the 4 needed their badges again to get past the officer at the stairwell exit. They had beaten the police to the scene, so were the first to cautiously approach the hospital room, guns drawn.
To be continued…
Oh goodness, my very first cliffhanger! The more reviews I get the more I write so…Please review.