"We have a case," Hotch said quietly to his team.

"I didn't get anything," JJ spoke. "They came directly to you?"

Hotch nodded. "Yes. They have Marshals on it now, but everyone that touches the case is a potential target. Wheels up in twenty. Garcia is coming with us."

On the jet, Hotch explained the case. "Spencer Reid, twelve, lives with Diana Reid, his mother in Las Vegas. William Reid, his father, left about two years ago and hasn't spoken to his family since, although they are not formally divorced. Diana Reid has paranoid schizophrenia. Spencer Reid is apparently a genius. All social workers involved with the case are dead."

"What do you mean, dead?" Dave fell in.

"They were found dead between the making of an appointment and the appointment itself. We won't be working with locals because we know there's an inside man. Even when CPS intended to show up without announcement and wrote that on a paper calendar, the social worker died. I believe the detectives and police officers on the case are from New Orleans, the Marshals from Seattle and the SWAT on stand-by is from Florida. The psychiatrist and nurses attending to Mrs. Reid are from Wisconsin, and none of them have ever been in Vegas before."

"Shit," Morgan sighed. "MO?"

"Rat poison, .357 Magnum, stabbing and the Magnum thrice again." Hotch sighed. "Six murders. We need to hit the ground running. We don't know who will be next and no one is to go anywhere without protection. Everyone wears bullet-proof vests regardless of where we are. Our first job is identifying whether it's CPS that is a target, or all government officials working the case."

Prentiss spoke up. "Who does what?"

Hotch sighed. "Garcia, I want you to stay with Spencer Reid. Make him comfortable, see what he knows. People like you. Just a warning – he's smart and doesn't like being treated as a kid. Don't try baby-talk."

Amused snorts were heard all-over, because they were all familiar with Garcia.

"JJ – monitor and contain the media. Make sure the kid doesn't get painted as the villain."

"Has he been ruled out yet?" Rossi asked.

Hotch sighed. "He has a confirmed alibi for one of the murders, but the confirmation is foggy at best. A blonde child was seen in the library around the time of the third murder. Given that he was in study section, it's likely it was him. Regardless no one is to be alone with him and he is not allowed near knives etcetera."

"Dave, Prentiss, Morgan and I work on the profile. Morgan and Dave, you two will go and talk to the father. Prentiss and I talk to Spencer. Garcia," Hotch looked at the tech analyst. "I want to make it clear that I'm not asking you to interrogate him. If he doesn't want to talk, he doesn't have to. Prentiss and I will be less accommodating." Hotch sighed again. "Father, mother and child are being kept separately for now. This will continue until we know more. We wait on the psychiatrist's call before someone goes to speak with Mrs. Reid, who at the moment believes she has been kidnapped by government officials."

Dave snorted. "Not that far off."

Hotch sighed. "Not to her. If someone goes to talk to her, it will likely be JJ and Prentiss wearing civilian clothes – with a bulletproof vest underneath."

After discussing ideas for another half an hour, Hotch called everyone to order. "Get some rest. We'll be lucky if we get any before this case is solved."

INSERT LINE

They arrived at a military airport, where they were directed to a helicopter which would bring them to the command center. It was originally a safe house, but now served a dual purpose: both as a safe house and as a command center.

They entered the safe house through the roof. Hotch was oddly reminded of the time when they had been to the CIA Headquarters with all the security going on. Hotch made short introductions to the Marshal in charge, Marshal Flint, and then told him what the team needed: William Reid (Dave and Morgan), a workspace with internet, TV, radio and phone (JJ), Spencer Reid and a place to set up her technical things (Garcia), and a briefing of the situation (Prentiss and Hotch).

After everyone was escorted to where they needed to be, Marshal Flint gave Hotch and Prentiss an extensive briefing.

"That's about it. We don't know if the Reids are a random target – an entry point, so to speak – which means they will probably move to other social workers once all the Reids's caseworkers have been eliminated."

Hotch nodded. "Can we talk to Spencer?"

INSERT LINE

"Hi!" Garcia said in her usual way – bubbly and brightly. "I'm Penelope Garcia and I was told to set up in here?" She showed her credentials.

The Marshal just inside the door nodded. "So I was told. I'm Deputy Marshal Michel." He moved inside and held the door open. "Spencer Reid, this is Penelope Garcia. Penelope Garcia, this is Spencer Reid."

A young boy wearing a too-large bulletproof vest looked up from the table he was sitting at. "Hi," he said quietly and watched as she put her bags on a table.

Her hands free, she moved to the table Spencer was sitting at. "I'm Penelope Garcia, what do you want me to call you?"

Spencer shrugged. "Don't call me Mr. Reid," he said. "Otherwise I have no real preference. Are you one of the FBI people?"

Garcia nodded. "Yes, I'm Miss Bright And Beautiful, and I'm a technical analyst for the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Heard of that?"

Spencer nodded. "Yes, it started as the BSU in 1974. The BSU split into a BSU and a BSISU in 1984 and became the BAU in 1997. After 9/11 there was a need for reorganization due to the realization that we were not adequately equipped to handle such attacks, and thus the BAU split into three units. Nowadays ViCAP is also a unit. The BAU is part of the NCAVC and its headquarters are located in Quantico, Virginia."

Garcia blinked. "You know? I didn't know that. I was already told you were smart, but you really know a lot. Do you like learning?"

The boy nodded. "I like challenges."

"Do you know code? Because I can teach you if you want me to."

Spencer gave a small smile. "I'm not good with computers, but I'd like to learn, yes."

Just as Garcia had everything plugged in, the door opened and Hotch and Prentiss entered.

"Garcia? You're needed downstairs." Hotch said with a guarded look and conveying a message with his eyes. Hotch was secretly amused, seeing a small boy and Penelope Garcia sitting side-by-side staring intently at a computer screen.

Garcia nodded. "Of course, sir," and she left the room.

"Hi," Prentiss said as she approached Spencer. "I'm Emily Prentiss and this is Aaron Hotchner. You can call me Emily if you want. Can we ask you some questions?"

Spencer nodded. "I thought you were here for that. Are you also from the FBI?"

Prentiss smiled. "Yes, I am. I work with Penelope Garcia, she was here before."

"She was going to teach me code," Spencer commented.

Hotch gave a small smile. "Lucky you. She's good." Hotch had allowed his stoic expression to disappear, as he always did when interviewing children.

"Am I supposed to invite you to sit? This is Federal property, and as such it's under your jurisdiction. So I can't really invite you."

Hotch supposed that comment made sense, in a way.. just not from a twelve-year-old.

"We can just all agree to sit down, so we don't have to argue about who invites who?" Prentiss smiled.

Spencer nodded. "Alright."

They sat down in a triangle, so that everyone could look at everyone. "Can we call you Spencer?" Prentiss asked.

"That's what most people call me," Spencer said.

"Spencer, do you know what's going on?" Usual approach – Hotch asked factual and established a background, Emily asked more personal.

Spencer looked thoughtful. "Something bad. I'm not allowed to see my mom, there are Marshals here, and you're from a specialists unit from the FBI. Because three of my CPS caseworkers died, I presume it has something to do with that. They won't really tell me, which I find annoying, because I really want to see my mom." He looked at Hotch and Prentiss. "Can I?"

"Not right now," Prentiss said softly. "She is having a difficult time."

Spencer gave her a look that was nearly incredulous. "You mean she's having an episode. You decided to counter said episode by placing her into an unfamiliar room with unfamiliar people and told her to calm down? Did you even explain what was going on? Because it's likely you're just playing into her delusion."

Hotch frowned a little. Maybe it hadn't been the best approach. "I'll talk with the doctor that's with her to see if you can see her."

Spencer made an acknowledging noise. "I can usually calm her down. How bad is it?"

"I'm not sure," Prentiss replied. "How so?"

"Just wondering how long it'll take before she stops being afraid after this one," Spencer said softly. "Can I talk with the doctor, at least? I hope it's a psychiatrist?"

"It's a psychiatrist," Hotch confirmed. "I'll see what I can do." He was silent for a few moments. "You were right, though – we are here about those caseworkers." He observed Spencer's reaction.

Spencer's eyebrow twitched, and his expression became concerned. "Did they actually stop sending people or did they stop making appointments?"

"What do you mean?" Prentiss asked.

Spencer shrugged. "I know CPS sends people without appointments sometimes, especially in suspected abuse cases. If caseworkers keep dying after making an appointment, it stands to reason you stop making appointments, but CPS isn't allowed to drop a case, so it also stands to reason they continue sending people unexpectedly."

Hotch gave an assessing look at Spencer. "You are right."

"Are you here because you think I did it, or are you here to find out what I know?" Spencer looked mostly curious.

"We don't think you did it," Prentiss said quickly.

Spencer shrugged. "You're not ruling out the possibility. But you're not actively suspecting me either, I think."

"What makes you say that?" Hotch asked, not denying the statement.

Spencer looked at Hotch, although he didn't look him in the eye. Hotch realized Spencer never looked Hotch in the eye. Spencer looked almost ashamed, it appeared, although not guilty. "I'm not allowed to be alone, and unless Marshal Flint is in here, there are always two people with me. Marshal Flint isn't being the "let's play a game together" friendly you'd expect a law enforcement officer to be to a child." Spencer looked at Marshal Flint, who was still standing by the door and listening attentively to the conversation. "That wasn't an insult, by the way. You're polite and you are friendly, just not the way people usually are to children. You make it clear you don't want to have a conversation or play a game, and that's just about the standard response an adult has when alone in a room with a child."

Marshal Flint gave a small smile. "You're correct."

Spencer nodded and turned to Hotch again. "I'm not allowed to use a sharp knife when eating and the cups in which I get my drinks are Styrofoam. And given the fact that people never know what to do with me, it would be logical you would consider me as a suspect."

Hotch nodded, again not denying anything. "Why did CPS see reason to pay you a visit?"

Spencer frowned. "Can I pass questions? I'll answer this one, but just for future reference."

Hotch took care not to show a frown on his face. "Preferably not, but it's better not to answer than to lie."

"I'm often bruised, my father isn't around, and my mother shouts sometimes. I always do the shopping and my mother never leaves the house." Spencer was silent for a moment. "That would explain the persistence. Otherwise it might have something to do with my application to Caltech, because all undergraduate students stay on campus."

Hotch was impressed by the list, most children were not as complete. He could also understand Spencer's earlier question about being allowed to decline answering questions.

"You're young, for a college student to be," Prentiss said.

Spencer sighed. "Look, I really want to see my mom, so can't we just talk about things that are not already in my file?" Spencer flushed. "Sorry."

"You're not being unreasonable," Hotch spoke mildly.

Spencer gave a small smile. "Neither are you. Most adults would blither on about being respectful." He sighed. "Next question?"

"Do you want something to eat or to drink?" Prentiss spoke before Hotch could open his mouth.

"Coffee with a lot of sugar, please." Reid gave a small smile. "I'm craving caffeine."

Prentiss nodded and turned to the Marshal. "Where can I find coffee? And do you want some?"

The Marshal gave a small smile and gave Prentiss instructions.

Once Prentiss had left, Hotch spoke again. "Do you want to wait for her return?"

"Not necessary," Spencer replied.

"Okay. Why are you often bruised?" Not beating around the bush seemed to work so far.

Spencer winced. "I'll give you a partial answer, which is a full truth." He waited for Hotch's nod. "Diana Reid's body has never bodily harmed Spencer Reid." He frowned a little. "That sounds really wrong. But if I say it differently, you will think I'm either rationalizing abusive behavior because she wouldn't have meant to hurt me, just the person she may have seen me as, or you'll think I'm rationalizing abusive behavior because she wasn't herself."

Hotch nodded. "Okay." He was about to ask more when Spencer spoke again.

"I'm willing to repeat that under oath, by the way. I'd also like to point out that I usually came home injured. Next question."

Spencer was implying the injuring didn't happen at home, and he had previously stated his mother never left the house. Bullying, perhaps? It would make sense.

"Are you bullied?" Bluntness really seemed to work best.

"Yes. I'm not elaborating. Next?" Spencer's movements were a little jerkily, and Hotch noticed Reid wasn't looking at Hotch – rather he was looking far away.

Prentiss re-entered the room with cups – Styrofoam again, Hotch noticed – and two large flask. "Coffee," she said a little cheerily. "I missed that stuff."

Spencer gave an amused snort. "So did I. Have you ever studied engineering?"

"No, why?" Prentiss asked absently as she was filling cups with coffee.

"It's just amusing to see vacuum flasks together with Styrofoam cups. It's really easy to make vacuum flasks implode." At Hotch's warning look, Spencer elaborated. "Not like that – at the very least you would need a source of heath and a source of cold, and even then it's doubtful you would actually succeed. If you already have an explosion, though, they implode really easily. This one is metal, though, so that makes it a lot more difficult. It would be impossible to do it here, if you're worried."

Marshal Flint snorted. "I'll keep an eye out regardless."

Spencer nodded amiably. "You get the flasks, I get the coffee?"

Marshal Flint laughed. "No way, kid."

Hotch smiled, thankful for the levity. He had no doubt that was Marshal Flint's goal when he decided to start joking.

"When did your father leave?" Prentiss asked conversationally.

"Two years ago," Spencer said. "He said he couldn't deal with my mother."

"You don't believe him," Hotch stated.

"No, of course not," Spencer replied matter-of-factly. "Mom begged him to take me with him, but he didn't and I have not heard from him since. If just mom was the problem, he would have kept contact or taken me with him." Spencer was silent for a few moments. "Not that I mind, though. I like Mom."

"You said she shouted a lot – does she shout at you or does she shout in general?" Prentiss asked.

Spencer's brow furrowed. "She always shouts at someone, just not always at people you and I can see." He paused, waiting for Hotch or Prentiss to say something.

"What are her episodes usually about?" Prentiss asked kindly.

Spencer looked thoughtful. "She often thinks she's lecturing – she was a college professor before she couldn't anymore. Then she goes as far as to refuse my request to join in if I have not read the assigned reading." Spencer gave an affectionate smile. "Otherwise it's usually conspiracy theories, and when she thinks I am about to get kidnapped, she'll yell I have to leave before they get to me."

"Has your father ever hurt you, or touched you in a way that made you feel uncomfortable?" Hotch asked gently.

"Not really, no." Spencer looked a little doubtful.

"What do you mean?" Prentiss asked.

Spencer gave a half-shrug that was both helpless and annoyed. "Not in a way that would be classified as either physical or sexual abuse. Yes, I know I can tell you if it was the case. No, there's nothing to tell."

"What did your mother think about the appointments of CPS?" Hotch decided to steer the conversation back onto something more comfortable.

"The first time, she was panicked. Government people interested in Spencer Reid, you know?" Spencer asked with a questioning glance at Hotch and Prentiss. At their nods, he continued. "So the next time, I didn't tell her until a few days before the appointment. But that same day I got a letter saying the appointment was once again cancelled. The letter had already been sent before I told my mom there even was an appointment." He shrugged. "The third time the letter was more elaborate, because it explained about the deaths of the earlier two caseworkers. I didn't tell my mom about the appointment at all that time, because she was in a bad shape, and I burned the letter. Then a few days after that appointment I got another letter cancelling the appointment."

Prentiss nodded. "Sensible."

"Thanks." After a moment's pause, Spencer spoke again. "Did they also send those letters to my father? Do you think he did it?"

Prentiss was, again, quick to assure Spencer that they didn't think his father did it.

Spencer gave a sigh. Hotch noted he was starting to get fed up with things again. "Coffee?" He decided to intervene.

Spencer nodded. "You know you're breaking federal law if you're not considering my father a suspect, right?"

"What do you mean?" Prentiss asked sounding a little confused.

"Here you are," Hotch handed Spencer his cup of coffee.

"Because he's not here, and he is, formally, my guardian."

"You don't miss much, do you?" Hotch found he liked this boy. He was witty and honest.

Spencer gave a small smile. "I miss less than most children do."

Hotch nodded, he agreed. "Do you think your father has something to do with it?"

Prentiss didn't agree with the question, apparently, but Hotch shot her a look.

Spencer didn't appear to be insulted by it, though. "It would make sense. He has a motive, a method of gathering the information because he is my father and is a lawyer, and the means to carry out murder."

"What do you mean by motive?" Prentiss asked.

"If CPS finds my mother unfit to be my guardian, I'll probably have to live with my father. That would also give anyone he lives with a motive, actually."