Chapter 6

Miranda

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you."

"Fuck you."

"Do you understand?"

"Fuck you."

I don't believe it…

"I need to know that you understand what I have just said to you."

"I need you to sod off. None of us is getting what we want today. I need a smoke…I need my stuff…where the fuck is my bloody stuff?"

I have managed to pull another one off…both of my hands are free now…damn will they be shocked when they come near me…..I'll tear their bleeding faces off.

"FRANKS!"

someone is shouting at me…

……… "I'm not deaf." And I spit more bloodied vomit out of my mouth and it dribbles down my chin and onto my neck.

"You need to listen."

"I'm listening." I turn my face to look at the cop standing there.

"You have the right to remain silent."

"Then stop fucking talking to me and asking if I understand….I invoke that right….now piss off."

"Anything you say…………."

"Screw you."

They withdraw for discussion and I lay and I wriggle my ankles cos now my arms are free….I will get these bastards.

"Mr Franks." It's the lawyer bloke….so I turn to look at him. "I really need you to understand that you are in trouble. I need to know that you understand what you did."

And I frown at him….What the hell is he on about? "Yes – yes I understand…I was riding without a helm…I get it…now let me go."

And now he is frowning at me. "That is why the officers pulled you over…but that isn't why you are here and I need to ask you…as it is just us…the cops are outside. Just between us Mr Franks…what happened after they pulled you over about not having our helm on? Can you tell me?"

"What happened?"

"At some point one of them shot you…do you remember that happening?"

I really am having one of those days where nothing is going right. "I don't think I remember that."

"They both had broken necks…do you know how that happened?"

And my day gets worse as I push some hair off my face. I watch the lawyer smile at me and stand. He moves to the door and presses a buzzer….As they open the door he looks back at me and says to the guards on the door.

"His hands are free…get me the hell out of here."

"SHIT!" and I lay there and look at my hands and I swear some words I don't want to admit to saying now…. "Crap on a sodding stick!" So I sit up and pull at the things on my ankles but people are running into the room now and they are out of my reach and they have guns trained on me and they are telling me to lay the hell back down or I will have my brains over the rear wall….

And they are on me faster than flies on a corpse….holding me down while I scream abuse at them and bite…and rip and tear and they stick needles in me and wrap something around my face and stuff something in my mouth and people are shouting and being pulled out of my reach as things go foggy and weird and more needles are stuck in me and they undo the ties on my feet and they are dragging me off the bed and onto a gurney….

And I need to tell them… "Help….help Spencer….." I don't know if they are listening or if I am talking though…. "You need

to help him… Dr Reid… Agent Reid…." But then I realise that it is all in my head….because I have this thing in my mouth and they are strapping me down again…around my neck…and across my chest and my legs and this time they are not taking risks.

Bastards.

-o-o-o-

I lay on my side and feel the mess seeping into my clothes and I don't know if I can move…all I can hear is screaming and more screaming…and really now I don't know where it is coming from.

Curling up and dying here is what my heart wants to do…but I need to move. I have to get out. Not that the UnSub wants me to get out. This is the point. Maybe…

………….I try to move the fingers on my right hand and they do but not easily and it is agony and so slowly I move them to where the spike has been driven further into my chest. There is blood…much too much blood and it seems to be bubbling up from inside of me and into my mouth. I need to sit up…I need to get out of this mud and whatever it is. It smells like sewage…and I think that is probably what it is.

Managing to get so I am sitting back and I know there is this stuff in my wounds now. I need to get out and sort them out before I get some nasty blood poisoning from them. I don't even know how deep…how far down I am and so I try to stand but it is certainly deeper than my height…and there is no chance I will be able to pull my way out of here. No chance. I move around the pit I have fallen into and it's not very large…I can would guess it is about as square as I am tall…about six foot square and as I move around my foot touches on something.

I bend down and feel around for what it is. My fingers are going numb with the pain of what I suspect is a broken wrist but I can still feel the bag under the muck. A sealed waterproof bag….and so I pull it out of the mess and I slide my back down the wall to sit…only now remembering that I have bits of glass stuck in there…and little sounds of pain escape my mouth…but I am too tired and defeated now to shout out for help.

Fumbling in the dark I manage to find the top of the bag…it has a zip lock thing which my fingers don't want to manipulate and so I pull it open with my teeth. There are things in the bag…I can tell by the weight on my legs as I sit here in the dark.

I slide my hand cautiously into the bag and the first thing I find is a flashlight.

"My god….light." I pull it out quickly and flick it on….the light is dim…the batteries are low…I will have to conserve the power. I use it though to have a quick scan around the pit. About ten foot deep. There is no way even if I was not sporting a pinned and shot arm and a broken wrist and a spiked foot and the heavens only know what else, that I could get out of here….and now I shine it back into the bag….another sealed bag inside….and I can feel what this is before I pull the bag open.

"A pistol….no…a revolver." I mutter to myself – taking it from the bag. Not that I would be able to see well enough to aim it…and I don't know if my trigger finger would let me fire it. I quickly check it for ammo.

"One? Only one?"

and right at the bottom a note.

'Dear Dr. Reid. If you have this note then you know you are not able to help your friends. You have only one option left. Think about it Dr Reid. That one action will result in my satisfaction and I will walk away a happy man and your friends will be safe..'

So I look at the pistol again and I turn off the flashlight and lean back in the filth with the revolver resting on my lap.

I think I know what he wants me to do….well it's glaringly obvious but I can't. I can't do that. I need to know why and I have to know who…Then maybe…maybe I will consider it. Not until…but I can still hear screams…and it's Emily. He is doing something to Emily…

………..Why has no one come to help? Where are the men from the registration desk….where are the guys who have our phones? Where in gods name is everyone?

Sitting here I pull my knees up close to my chest and I have that familiar urge to wrap my arms around my legs but I can't…one is still attached to me and the other I need it…I need it to rest on the revolver. I need to know that my personal way out of hell is here…but how do I know the other's will be safe.

If he came to talk to me. If I could have a conversation with this person I might be able to work out who he is and what he really wants…if he wanted me dead…if that was what this is all about then a bullet between my eyes would have been quicker….but it's more than that. He wanted me to suffer…he wanted the team to suffer…he wanted them to see that I was their only hope….or has he even told them…Do they know I am here?

……………Hotch must know….he must do…he was awake when I came in here. He was watching me. Watching me disobey his direct orders and now this….this is my doing.

I think I can guess what he is doing to Emily –

………….Emily…………you might not realise this….you might not want me as someone to chat it over with….but believe me…I know. I know what it feels like.

At least her screams have stopped and I know something now too…he won't kill them. He will keep them alive if he is going to keep to his offer…

I run my fingers over the weapon. I think he will come to talk to me. That is what they do….he is in control….he has had this planned for a while. He knew about this weekend…He knows us…and I probably know him…from somewhere at some point. Someone I have smiled at and said 'hello' to thinking it was the correct thing to do….but no…I gave off the wrong messages to someone at some point and I can't think when or who.

……….My mind races through the people at work…all of them…and I come up with a nasty big blank…or if I go the other way….too many names to even start to filter them out.

-o-o-o-

She is curled up on the floor with her back to us. I can see the pink of her back and the scratches and marks coming up on her skin. I lay and watched the bastard rape my agent and could do nothing to stop it.

I want to be sick. I want to go and help her…but he has secured me tightly to the side of the room. I need to call out to her but he is looking at me…and smiling and pulling his pants back up and I will kill him. I will do. I have do doubt in my mind that I am feeling a rage which I won't be able to just get rid of over pizza and beer.

"I won't be long. Need to check up on the Doctor…see if he's managed to kill himself yet." And he laughs at that. He thinks this is so funny, but I've not heard anything but Prentiss's screams in my head for so long I almost forgot to listen out for Reid's.

Someone must have heard her. Someone out there…the other paintballers…the people organizing this cock up…someone would have heard it…and I think that is why she scream so loudly. It was a way to call for help, but the bastard enjoyed it.

Now he has gone…I pull at my restraints and call over to Prentiss…but I'm not good at emotional stuff. This isn't part of the job I feel comfortable with. "Prentiss." She doesn't move…I think I can hear small sobbing sounds. "Emily…" This time I watch her pull her combat pants back up and she rolls over to look at me.

"I'm fine." She mumbles….She knows I won't ask the question. I watch my battered agent push herself up to sit and she glances around the room. "Where is he?" She hisses over at me.

I look out of the door. "He has gone to check up on Reid." And flashes of images of what the man could have done to him make me feel queasy.

"Hotch….on the raft." And she is pushing up to her feet. "There is the knife we used to cut the ropes." And now she is walking and I don't know why she isn't curled up still and a crying sobbing mess and I think of her compartmentalising…and for once I am glad for it.

"Get it and get back here."

I want to help her, but right now there is nothing I can do but stay here and wait and hope above all else that she will get there and back before our tormenter gets back. She runs…I can hear her running…and it's not too far to the river from here. I put my head back against the wall of the room and close my eyes. "Hurry Emily." I mutter to myself and I count silently in my head, but I don't get far…She is quick and is running back through the doors and throwing herself back down where she was.

"I have it." She mouths the words at me and I can see the concentration on her face as she starts to cut her way through the bindings on her wrists. I wanted her to hurry…she has to hurry and get the knife over to me… I have to get out there and get help for Spencer.

All I have heard is a horrible silence since the guy left and it worries me. I don't like it. I have a vile sickening feeling that I am too late for Spencer, but I don't want to hear those screams like I did earlier either…I just want him here with us…so I can tell him I am sorry for not being there yesterday.

I can hear Dave moaning and at last Morgan is moving slightly. This helps a bit. We are all alive still.

…………..I hope we are all alive still…….

And I look out to where he went and to where Spencer is….alone somewhere and in pain.

"Hotch." A hand touches me. I focus my mind again and Emily is at my side. He hands are free. Quickly she cuts through my restraints and I am climbing to my feet before she can move.

"Stay with them. Stay here. I don't want you following. Cut them free and stay here."

Emily looks up at me and nods.

Laying on the floor near to the door is the baseball bat he had earlier. I bend down to get it and my head spins and I think I'm going to be sick again. I blink the sweat away from my eyes and push my hair off my forehead.

"Be careful." Emily says as I step out of the door.

………………………I don't know about being careful…….but I will save Spencer……or I will die trying.

-o-o-o-

I don't know where I am…..

They still have something strapped around my face….a muzzle…I lick my lips…they've taken the thing out of my mouth though…so I can talk, but I can't move. I'm not sure why I can't move….I'm not quite sure about much at all to be very honest with you.

"Hello Mr Franks." A voice says to me from down a long dark tunnel and so I try to look down the tunnel and I see a man whose eyes are too big and his face is tiny tiny tiny small…like a little insect and if he comes close enough...

..."I will pull your fucking wings off!" I shout at him.