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To kbf: It's like you can read my mind!
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-Xoxo Elisa
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or its characters. This story is for fun!
Chapter 23:
"Morgan! JJ!" Hotch yelled. They had all raced out at the sound of gunfire to find a rapidly growing pool of blood on the sidewalk, and their colleagues nowhere in sight. "Over here Hotch!" JJ's voice answered from a stack of bushes next to the stone steps of the precinct. Relief washed over the Unit Chief at the sight of his two subordinates sitting against the side of the building, looking relatively unharmed. "What happened?" he asked, pointing at the blood-stained handkerchief JJ had pressed against Morgan's arm. "One of the bullets ricocheted off the wall and grazed my arm." Morgan muttered, "Don't worry, Hotch. It's just a flesh wound." "Then why is there so much blood?" Hotch demanded. Morgan and JJ exchanged sheepish looks before JJ answered, I might've combined red food coloring with a gallon of water to make it look like the unsub had fatally wounded both of us." Hotch gaped at them for a moment before glancing back at the sidewalk. Now that the anxiety of losing two of his agents was gone, he could tell that the 'blood' on the sidewalk was not viscous enough to be real. "That was smart." he told the two. "We just figured the unsub would stop shooting if he thought we were dead." JJ told him. "It's probably what saved our lives." Hotch was about to agree with them when he heard Rossi yell, "Guys, get in here!"
"What's going on?" Morgan demanded as he, Hotch, and JJ raced into the bullpen. The three came to a halt when they saw their teammates crowding around Prentiss. "A note was dropped off for Emily while you were under fire." Rossi responded, "it's about Reid." "Well," Morgan said impatiently, "read it then!" He watched as both JJ and Seaver gripped Prentiss' hands in support. With a deep breath, she began to read. "Dear Lauren,"
"I must offer my condolences for the loss of your friend, Mr. Easter. As much as it pains me to admit this, he was a very skilled operative and perhaps the only reason it has taken me so long to hunt you down. But that does not matter now. He's dead because of you, because of what you took from me. I must ask you Lauren, how many more must die because of your sins? How many more are you willing to sacrifice in order to deprive me of the one thing I have ever truly loved, my son? You know no harm would come to Declan if he was in my care, yet you still attempt to hide him from me. You should have kept him where he was instead of moving him closer to where you set up an outpost, it only makes it that much easier for me to take what is rightfully mine. The only difficult part will be you. You see, I have attached the GPS coordinates leading to Dr. Reid's location. It's up to you to choose, do you attempt to keep my son away from me or do you save your own family? Is blood thicker than water? I'd make my decision quickly, poor Spencer doesn't have much time left.
-I
The letter fell from her hands. "We need to go now!" she said, desperately trying to control her emotions, "we need to get to Reid before Ian kills him. If he hasn't already." "What about Declan?" Hotch asked. Prentiss threw up her hands in frustration, "I don't know Hotch. I'd like to believe that we can make it to both of them in time, but there's no guarantee. You heard what Ian said, Declan is his son, he's not going to hurt him! But Spencer, Spencer is guaranteed to get injured. I got him in into this mess, I would never be able to forgive myself if he died because of me." "Emily," Hotch murmured, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You're not alone in this. There are six other people here who would be more than willing to give their lives for both you and Reid. Do not shut us out of this Emily! Doyle made this personal when he went after Reid, and we all want payback. Please, let us help you." "I just can't let anyone else get hurt because of me." she whispered. Morgan chuckled, "It's part of our job description Prentiss. None of us would be here if we were afraid of the risks." "My chocolate thunder is right!" Garcia said, JJ and Seaver nodding in agreement, "We are a family. Families don't leave each other high and dry just because something might be dangerous. We're going to get Reid back and save Declan, because that's what families do. They look out for each other." For someone who thought they'd never have a family I struck gold with this one. Emily thought, turning towards her team. "Suit up!" she said.
"A bheith ullmhaithe a long amach in deich nóiméad!" Doyle barked. "Chomh luath agus a leag muid le haghaidh ár 'aíonna', sinn ag dul amach." Reid watched his captor direct his plethora of goons around the warehouse. He'd split them into two groups: one to load a minivan with an arsenal large enough to outfit a small country, and another to line a pressure plate with enough C-4 to level the entire warehouse. Doyle's soulless eyes lit with a dark glee when he caught Reid watching the preparations. "Enjoying my work are you, Spencer?"
The knowledge that he had been the cause of Morgan and JJ's deaths had subdued Reid, but did little to dampen the fire in his eyes. "It won't work, you know." he hissed, "Your plan, using me as bait. They won't come. Not when an innocent boy's life is at stake. I'm not worth it." Doyle chuckled, "Maybe not, but your death should still be torturous for them." "So you are going to kill me?" Reid asked, already coming to terms with his impending demise. At least I'll see Emily, Morgan, and JJ again. I'll be able to beg for their forgiveness. "Did you ever believe I wouldn't?"
Reid snorted at his captor's incredulous tone, "I might be you and naive, but I am still a genius. It doesn't take a profiler to guess that a man so hell-bent on revenge would lash out at the object of his rage in any way he could. Since you can't get to Emily, you'll take it out on me. But let me tell you something, Ian. When you're lying on the ground, with a bullet in your brain, the only thing you'll think of is how you spent the last moments of your life blinded by vengeance." He let out a small gasp of pain when Doyle grabbed his hair. "For that," he hissed, "I promise to make your death as slow and painful as humanly possible."
"Scaoileadh!" he barked at one of his men. The goon walked behind Reid and, with a quiet click, released him from the chains binding him to the chair, while keeping his captive's hands securely bound behind his back. "Tabhair dó anseo!" Doyle called, pointing towards the center of the room, where the pressure plate was located. That's not good! Reid thought, last chance for an escape. "Mmph!" the goon groaned as Reid's foot connected with his leg, but he did not release his prisoner. Instead he jerked him more roughly towards the pressure plate. With a hard shove, he forced Reid onto his back, securing Reid's cuffed hands to the eye hook in the center of the pressure plate. "Secure boss!" he called to Doyle. "You're going to blow me up?" Spencer asked in disbelief, "what happened to making my death as slow and painful as possible?" His captor grinned at him. "That's what this is for!" he assured him, pounding a metal stake against his palm. Without a moment's hesitation Doyle plunged the stake through Reid's body.
"Declan?" Emily called, checking the safe house. "Declan? Can you hear me?" Right as she was about to lose hope she heard a soft voice call, "Emily?" Prentiss raced toward the voice, stopping at a small broom closet at the end of the hall. "Declan are you in there?" she asked. "Yes," the boy's tearful response was like a knife in her heart. "The agents told me to stay here until the bad men went away." "That's good buddy!" Prentiss said in as reassuring a voice as she could manage. Her next words were cut off by the unforgettable sound of gunfire and then Declan's terrified scream. "Declan? Declan! I need you to stay calm, okay? Just cover your ears and it will all be over soon. Don't open this door for anyone but me alright? I'm going to keep you safe."
"Will you Lauren?" Prentiss turned towards the familiar figure standing at the opposite of end of the hallway. While most people looked as if they were born to wear designer suits and ties, Doyle looked like he had been born to waltz around in heavy tactical gear. Kevlar covered his torso and he held a pistol in each hand. "Ian." Emily hissed, raising her glock. Doyle chuckled, "so you did survive. I guess I shouldn't be all that surprised, you've always walked away from the most deadly situations. Why don't you drop the gun, and I might let you walk away from this one." "You'll have to put a bullet through my brain!" "That can be arranged!" Doyle promised, raising his gun. "Any last words?" "Yes," Prentiss said as she put two bullets into his skull, "have fun in hell!" Doyle's eyes widened with shock before rolling back in his head. "Prentiss?" she heard Hotch yell. "Up here!" Emily responded. She watched her boss walk up the stairs, eyes scanning for any potential threats. As soon as Hotch had confirmed all threats were neutralized, Prentiss opened the door containing Ian's son. "Hey buddy." she whispered, picking him up and carrying him out of the house. "You're safe now." Seeing Rossi racing towards her and Hotch, she handed Declan over to one of the surviving agents of the protection detail. "That was JJ," Rossi said, his face grim, "we need to get to the hospital now."
Translations: A bheith ullmhaithe a long amach in deich nóiméad. -Be prepared to ship out in ten minutes
Chomh luath agus a leag muid le haghaidh ár 'aíonna', sinn ag dul amach.-As soon as we set up for our 'guests', we move out. Scaoileadh!- Release him!
Tabhair dó anseo!-Bring him here!
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