Although the world is full of suffering, it is full also of the overcoming of it. - Helen Keller
Reid presses the buttons on his cell-phone desperately, all to no avail. "Looks like your battery is low," Says Millicent patiently, "And that's your third try. Come, now." She smiles sweetly, full of confidence that he'll come.
And why shouldn't she be confident? Millicent stole Reid's gun and holds it to his head now, his legs tied together by his own two hands, something she made him do. Then she was 'nice' and gave him three chances to alert his team something was wrong.
Now her sweet and innocent smile turns into a mad, evil, twisted grin. Reid stumbles up and onto his feet, a worried frown enveloping his face. Millicent grabs his arms and ties them up tightly before grabbing his cell, dropping it with a clatter onto the floor, and jumping on it.
Reid flinches.
"In to my car, and don't you dare make a fuss." She hisses, the gun pressed into his back hard. As he's lead outside, Reid asses the area. There's no one around for him to yell to anyway. Not in his immediate line of view. So he keeps silent, hoping somehow, someway, he'll be found before it's to late…that it won't be like last time he was kidnapped.
***
"A storage unit? Hotch, there's gotta be tons around. We'll never be able to find it." Morgan reasons. Prentiss looks down at the cell phone in her boss's hand, "Why hasn't Reid called back?" she thinks out loud.
The three agents give each other worried looks.
"JJ, Rossi, head over to Millicent Beck's. Morgan, get Garcia on the phone, see if there are any storage units fitting Reid's description. Prentiss, try calling Reid." Hotch orders.
JJ and Rossi jump into the SUV and both Morgan and Prentiss dial numbers into their cell phones.
But neither of them get anywhere. "Hotch, like I told you, there are no single storage units like that. There are about fifty but –" "It would take much more than a day to look through all of them." Hotch finishes grimly. "And my call won't even go through." Emily shares.
"What do you mean?" Both men ask. Emily sighs, "Every time I call it just tells me the number is no longer in service."
***
Reid's head hurts like hell and he can't figure out why. He opens his eyes uncertainly to find himself slumped over in the trunk of a car. Reid touches his bound hands to his head and finds blood. He grimaces and tries to heave himself up, but it's hard to do.
He does eventually make it up, his sight blurred by all the dirt on the back window of the car. He could have sworn he saw one of his team's SUVs drive by with Rossi at the wheel…
"Get down!" Millicent's voice rings out shrilly, noticing him, and she waves the gun from the steering wheel to scare him. Reid ducks down, trying to free himself, but it's impossible. The best he can do is tug at the frayed ends of the ropes.
***
"Wait a second." JJ requests as Rossi speeds ahead to Millicent's house. "What." Rossi doesn't even look over, "You guys said Beck drove a green van, right?" "Morgan might have mentioned it once, yes." Rossi agrees.
"Well I just saw Reid. In the back of a green van." JJ informs Rossi. Rossi looks over at her this time, "Can you still see the van?" "No," she admits. "Do you think we could catch it?" "No," she sighs. Suddenly Rossi does a u-turn and begins to speed in the other direction, swerving around cars and busses, receiving middle fingers and the honking of horns from many.
"Do you think we could catch it now?"
***
"You realize we got this unsub's profile all wrong." Prentiss sighs. "Well not altogether. We said someone who lived in the area, was in their twenties to forties, and could fit in at art galleries. True, we got the sexism thing wrong and the fact that she isn't male, but we did alright." Morgan argues.
"But that's just it. How could Millicent Beck fit in at these women's parties? And how could Mildred Farmer be looked over? Why was she never even mentioned before?!" Prentiss frowns.
"Because," Hotch announces, "We didn't take into account the idea that both Mildred and Millicent are partners. This always appeared as a one-person crime."
"And it's not? For sure?" Police Chief Deluchi cuts in. "For sure." Hotch states.
***
Nina, Patricia, Rebecca, and Jessica are dizzy and can't really remember anything. "Where…" Patricia groans, and then her eyes pop open, "SOMEONE ANYONE HELP HELP!" she screams. "Silence!" Millie scowls and smacks Patricia hard.
Patricia curls up and begins to whimper. Nina, Jessica, and Rebecca – she notes – are all awake and yet remain inactive.
They had been lead through the forest last night, getting bites and scrapes and stings and falling down many times until at last reaching a large house. It had been Millie's at one point, Patricia remembers it well and remembers it fondly.
But in the basement, now inhabited by disgusting animals and creepy crawlers, Patricia feels no hope. This isn't the Millie she knew, and in the back of her memory, and idle thought fills her mind: This wasn't the only Millie she knew.
"Millie," she whispers sadly, "I'm sorry." But she isn't speaking to her captor. All the same, the other Millie hears and she cackles. Then with a snarl she exclaims, "It's too late now! Too late for apologies!" she waves her hand in the direction of a coffin.
Patricia cowers so Millie grabs her by the hair and drags her over to the coffin, with Jess, Becca, and Nina watching solemnly and helplessly. But Patricia doesn't blame them. Not even a tiny bit.
"Open it!" Millie demands. Shaking, Patricia does before giving out a terrified scream and getting another smack in the head. Because inside that coffin lies a bloody and severed head. And although Patricia doesn't know who it is, she's sure that her fate and her friend's fates will be the same.
However, it is Adele Leslie's head she is looking at.
***
"Simon," Millicent says, "I'm sorry about your life." "I'm not Simon…I'm FBI Agent Dr. Spencer Reid you know that please Ms. Beck this can be different…" Reid speaks fearfully.
He's on his back, still tied up, laying on the ground in the dirt in the middle of the woods. Millicent looks down with an expression of odd glee on her face.
"No. Too. Late." She disagrees, pointing his gun at his heart.