The Conspiracy
Chapter 9
Losing

"When I hold you in my arms and I feel my finger on your trigger I know no one can do me no harm because happiness is a warm gun." – John Lennon

Garcia didn't have a go bag, but that didn't slow her down. She locked down her bunker, packed her lap top and took the lift down to the ground floor, where the taxi was waiting to take her to the airport. She had made a reservation to fly to Mexico, and a hire car was waiting for her at the airport. She was going to join David Rossi and find her colleagues.

The taxi felt like the slowest car on the road. She bit back her frustration as cars overtook and flew past on the road, but at last they reached the airport, and she quickly got out of the taxi, paid the driver, and rushed to the desk to collect her ticket.

In the departure lounge she was too stressed to sit down, so she paced up and down, wearing a groove in the carpet. When her flight was called it was all she could do not to run to the boarding gate. They couldn't go until everyone was on the plane, but her heart said 'run'.

She knew exactly where Rossi was, having triangulated his position from the cell phone signal. She just wanted to be there and find her friends.

-0-0-0-

Dave was fuming. The local police had said in the strongest possible terms that they couldn't help the FBI as the mine was out of their jurisdiction – just over the border. Dave needed to get out of this bed.

He called Chita.

'I need your help to get out of here.' he said to her. 'I have to find my colleagues.'

'Mr Rossi, I don't think you are well enough, but I am so worried about Ana. He knows I worry, but he should have been home by now.'

Dave reached out and took her hand. 'Help me get up.'

Dave sat up with her help, and pushed back the covers and carefully swung his legs out of the bed. Chita took him by the elbow and supported him as he stood shakily on his feet. He stood still for a moment to fight off the nausea that threatened to knock him out again.

'Are you going to be ok?' she asked, doubting very much that he would be.

Dave didn't answer. 'Let me sit down somewhere.' he said. She led him to the old couch in her family room, and he sat down with relief.

He realised that he wasn't going to be able to do anything.

-0-0-0-

Garcia drove the hire car as fast a she legally could towards the farm where Dave was. The ground was dusty and dry, and the road was compacted mud. Driving, she wondered how people could farm the land, scrape a living out of it, it looked so unproductive. She drove through small fields with goats and sheep chewing at the scratty grass. It was with great relief that she drove along the drive to Chita's farm. She hoped that Rossi would agree that she was right in her actions.

She pulled up outside the little farmhouse and got out of the car. She went to the door and knocked.

-0-0-0-

Hotch wondered where he was. He was unable to move, and when he opened his eyes, the world was as black as when he closed them. He tried to decide whether he had actually managed to open them, and tried to move a hand to his face to check, but he was too weak, and the attempt at movement made his head swim. He realised that he had no feeling from his hips down, and the pain that his entire body was experiencing emanated from his lower abdomen. With a determination that came from somewhere deep inside, he moved his hand to the source of his agony.

The spike of metal was sticky in his hand, and as his fingers closed around it, he felt as if his body was on fire.

He twisted and tugged at the spike, his hands slipping on the congealed mess of blood and intestine, and blood welled up around it. The pain was so bad, but he couldn't scream with the tube down his throat. He made a sickly gurgling sound that brought Morgan to his side.

He turned on his flashlight and saw what his boss was trying to do. He closed his hand over Hotch's.

'Don't pull it out, Man. You'll start the bleeding again.' He had wanted to say 'You'll die.' because that was a certainty. The wound was severe, and removing the spike would cause bleeding, and peritonitis, if that hadn't already set in. Pulling at the spike was irrational; Hotch would have known not to move it. Morgan prayed that his boss wasn't dying before him. He imagined the poison streaming through his blood stream. He called for the medic, who was back against the wall, rocking.

'Do you carry antibiotics in that box of yours?'

He didn't expect an answer. Morgan prised Hotch's fingers off the wicked spike. It would not be possible to remove it from the front; the metal was bent behind his back. Morgan felt Hotch's forehead – not the best indicator of a high temperature, but it gave an idea, and the man was burning up. There wasn't much time left now. He pulled the medics box next to him and shone his flash light at the contents. There was an array of bottles of drugs, but without the medic's help, he didn't dare administer any.

He called up to Emily

'How is Reid?'

'He's unconscious, Morgan, but he's moving around a lot. I think he's in pain, even though he's passed out.'

'I wish I could get up there with you, Emily, but I can't leave Hotch. He's delirious.'

'We're ok here' Emily called back, trying to sound reassuring, but not quite able to keep the fear out of her voice. 'I've tried looking for a way out but I can't get round the hole.'

'What do you think caused it?' Morgan called back, and Ana answered.

'Vibrations of the helicopter, I think.' he said, his voice shaking. Ana felt sick, the arm injury was far worse than he let on. He was certain it was broken, but he didn't want to appear cowardly in front of these brave FBI agents. He had always wanted to be in law enforcement, but he couldn't leave his mother. But the short time working with these people had made him more determined than ever.

'How's Hotch doing?' Emily called down.

Morgan toyed with the idea of lying, but thought better of it.

'I wish I could say good, Emily, but he's very ill.' he said. 'Do you know anything about antibiotics?'

'No, Morgan.' she said, a frightened tone to her voice.

Morgan took the bulb off the tube in Hotch's throat. He was breathing on his own, he was awake, but he seemed unaware of where he was or who was with him.

'Hotch Man, it's Morgan here.' he said softly to him. 'Hold on Man, I'm going to get you out of here.'

He hoped that it was the truth.

Hotch stared back at him with wide dark pain filled eyes.

-0-0-0-

'Penelope!' Rossi said in surprise as she entered the room. He tried to stand, but he couldn't. 'I am so glad you are here. We have got to get out of here and find our team!'

'I don't think you are well enough, Mr Rossi.' Chita said.

'I can't let Miss Garcia go alone. She is not a field agent.' Dave said. 'I must go with her.'

Garcia could see that Dave was pale, and his hands were shaking. He had no side arm, but she knew that he had to come with her, even if he stayed in the car.

'Help me get him to the car, please, Chita.' Garcia said.

Dave allowed the two women to help him outside and sit him in the front seat of the car that Garcia had hired. He was glad to see that she had the foresight to hire an SUV. Garcia leaned across him and strapped him in. Chita supplied a cushion to hold over his gun shot wound, to stop the seat belt from hurting him. They had a rough ride ahead. Dave was so exhausted at being manhandled into the car, it was a struggle to remain awake and alert.

But he had to. Garcia was not trained for this. He would have preferred to go alone, but he wasn't well enough. He decided to try to conserve enough energy to take over when they arrived at the mine.

'Just a moment.' Chita said and ran indoors. She re emerged seconds later with a shotgun. She opened Dave's door and handed it to him.

'It's old, but Ana cleaned it regularly. It's loaded.'

Chita watched them go, and realised that she had referred to Ana in the past tense. She said a silent prayer to her god that they would find Ana and bring him home.

-0-0-0-

'I know where they are.' Garcia said, trying to reassure Dave. 'At least i know where they said they were going.' she added. The thought had only just occurred to her that they might not be at the mine. She worried why Morgan hadn't got in touch again, and tired to work out a scenario in her mind why he hadn't without his being hurt, but she wasn't able to. She also hoped that there wouldn't be any need for guns. They only had Chita's shot gun, and she didn't know if she could fire it. She glance across at Dave, who was holding tight onto it, his knuckles white. She hoped he was strong enough to use it if he had to.

Dave asked for Garcia's cell phone, and he dialled each of the missing agents in turn. He really didn't expect an answer, but he kept trying. Garcia broke his concentration.

'Look up ahead!' she said.

A few miles up ahead across the flat desolate landscape was a car, seemingly abandoned in the wilderness. Garcia left the road and drove towards it.

'It's a hire car.' Dave said as they neared it. Garcia pulled up next to it, and got out to investigate. One of the doors was unlocked, and she opened it and checked the glove box. She pulled out the small sheaf of papers. Derek Morgan's name was on the hire receipt. She stood out of the car, and called Morgan's name, searching the landscape for any sight of him. There was nothing.

She took the documents back to Dave.

'It's Morgan's car.' she said

'At least we know we are driving in the right direction.' Dave said. Garcia got back in and started the engine.

'I hope we are not too late.' she said, voicing her anxiety, despite trying to keep it to herself. She needed words of reassurance.

Dave couldn't give any. He was trying to figure out why Morgan had left his car in the middle of no where. The only thing he could come up with was he was trying to find cell service, but then where was he now? He felt sick with worry.

-0-0-0-

Emily put down her flash light. The battery was dead and they were plunged into blackness. she suddenly felt a wave of fatigue wash over her, and she laid down on the rocky floor next to Reid.

'Miss Prentiss, are you alright? Where are you?'

Emily heard panic in the young man's voice, and it occurred to her that he was only keeping together because she was. It was her responsibility to not fall apart. Reid and Ana both depended on her.

'I'm here, Ana.' she said, managing to keep her voice steady. She felt his hand on her shoulder. 'I'm fine.' she lied.

Ana knew it was a lie, but he didn't care. He took her words at face value and it gave him courage. He wrapped his good arm around his torso and injured arm, and rocked back on his heels.

'Do you think we'll die down here?' he said, his voice calm.

'Rossi knows where we are. He'll find us.' she said, only half believing it. She remembered hos ill he had looked when she had last seen him.

Earlier that day.

Or was it yesterday?

She had no idea how long they had been trapped down here. She crawled to the edge of the chasm.

'Morgan.... ' she called. 'How's things?'

'Not good.' Morgan answered. 'I think I'm loosing Hotch.'