Okay this should be fun. First, reasons for my recent and lengthy hiatus: Act II problems that will not be completed to my satisfaction, but I feel compelled to get the chapter up for a number of different reasons. And: ACCEPTANCE TO THE GRADUATE SCHOOL OF LIBRARY INFORMATION SCIENCE! So there has been a lot my mind. With a tremendous tip of my hat to vixen-of-the-roses I will fix the Las Vegas geography errors soon. I am just going to try to be accurate in this entry tonight. And as always: I am a writing creature of the night who will wake up, go to work in the morning on auto-pilot, then reread this entry in broad daylight and wonder HOW COULD I HAVE MISSED SO MANY WORDS!

And I will be teetering on the edge of M material, but it serves a purpose.

I could end the story after this entry in terms of plot, but I have more to address in terms of theme and character growth. Update as of 4/21: A family emergency came up today so I am not able write Chapter 5 tonight and have it available by Sunday morning. Thanks for being patient and enjoy.

Reviews are welcome and encouraged as always.

Chapter 4:

It turns out what the UnSub (the term the FBI uses to describe creeps such as kidnappers), wanted all along was me. He gave the directions to a vacant house in the mostly abandoned housing section on Balzar Avenue. Spencer and the rest of the agents determined that the best course of action would be to do as asked while the house is covered with cops and agents.

"I can't believe Phil is responsible for all of this," I said while the lead agent drove to the location. "I barely noticed the kid when we went to school together." I tugged at the bullet-proof vest they insisted I wear. It felt like a straight jacket.

Spencer was sitting across from me looking through the file. "Phillip Jones was in the Honor Society, something I couldn't get into as I wasn't involved in enough extracurricular activities," he said bitterly. "He was also one of the fasted long distance runners on the track team. This basically means he was protected by two of the dominant groups in the social hierarchy. His presence didn't arouse your team's aggressive instincts Mike."

"What about you Reid?" the agent called Rossi asked from the front seat. "What do you remember about him?"

Spencer looked up for a moment. "He wasn't someone to draw attention to himself. I wasn't either, but that couldn't be helped. He did what was necessary to stand out as a scholarship candidate in order to get into Berkley where believed his life would really begin."

"So how did he become a murdering scumbag?" I asked angrily.

Reid returned to the file. "His mother died when he was twelve and his father was the events manager at the Montecito, a stressful job with erratic hours. This suggests he raised himself since the onset of puberty. He was caught smoking marijuana in college and got into a few minor fights. But in the end he became a tech installation supervisor for one of the largest national security firms in the in the country."

"A job like that involves a lot of traveling and also suggests that he is capable of hiding his tracks extremely well. Which means there could be more deaths connected to him," Rossi said.

"That's what worries me," Hotchner said. "Returning to Vegas suggests that this might be his end-game." He glances over at me "You are going to be surrounded agents at all times and there will be no deviation from our course of action. Do you understand Mr. Davis?"

"Yes, sir," I said. "I just want to get my son back." I look at Spencer and there is a worried look on his face that I hadn't seen before. "What's on your mind Spence?"

He leans forward and holds his chin on his hands. "Something feels off. Adolescent bystander's guilt hasn't been studied enough to predict adult behavior." He glances out the window. "I have a feeling he has a more elaborate plan in place that we aren't prepared for."

"Reid we need to stick to the plan we've developed," Hotch said authoritatively. "If you think of a better course of action you clear it with me first. Understood?"

I got the sense that this conversation has happened before. Reid nodded. "I won't screw this up Hotch." He looked at me with clear focus. "I won't do anything to further risk the life of Tyler."

"I trust you Spence," I said, resisting the urge to pat him on the back assuredly.

It was early evening when we arrived. I had never seen so many different cop vehicles in my life. We got out and Hotchner approached the SWAT commander. "Do we have a visual?"

"No sir," he said and pointed the covered windows. "The guy covered the windows with lead-lined material."

"What about communication?"

"He appears to have speakers on the garage and above the front door."

Hotchner looked to me. "We have Agents Prentiss and Morgan covering the back. Agent Rossi and Dr. Reid will be covering you if he asks for you enter. I'll be the lead negotiator. Understood?"

Everyone nods. Rossi and Spencer pull out their guns. Spencer's is small and kind of strange looking with its wood varnish. But then again, I don't know much about guns and the sight of Spencer holding something capable of killing people is just unsettling.

"Attention FBI and all other law enforcement agents," a reedy voice says through the speakers. "I have no interest in harming Tyler Davis. Let Agent Reid escort Mike Davis through the front door and I will let everyone come out alive. I am well aware of the fact that my residence is surrounded by armed cops and FBI agents. But I am currently I holding a gun to Tyler's head and any attempts to apprehend me through invading my home will result in a fatal outcome."

"What guarantee do we have that you won't kill the boy if even we do comply?" Hotchner said through a radio.

"I am sure you have profiled to me the best of your abilities Agent Hotchner," Phil said haughtily. "But I think you have failed to take into consideration my understanding of Spencer Reid. If you did, you would know that I will not let a man with his talents leave this situation damaged. Something you failed to do on several occasions," he added with a note of menace.

The guy who was Spencer's boss and ultimately responsible for his team's safety, blinked. "I want Mr. Davis to emerge from this house with you in the custody of Dr. Reid at the end of ten minutes. Hold them for a second further or if I hear the slightest sound of distress, you have my complete assurance that you will die in a hail of bullets. Do we have an agreement?"

"You have my word Agent Hotchner. I am giving you two minutes to get Dr. Reid and Mr. Davis on my door step."

"Hotch we are taking a huge risk here," Rossi said. "This guy might just shoot Davis and Reid the minute they walk through the door."

Hotchner was watching the door. "We don't have any better options Dave. Stay out of sight and cover them."

Hotchner turned to Reid. "Reid, any thoughts?"

I could tell that a million thoughts were going through Spencer's head. "I think my best option is try to talk him out of whatever he might be planning," he said.

"We're down to a minute folks," Rossi said and began to take his position. Hotchner nodded at Spencer and me. "Run."

Spencer held his gun low and we ran to the door. Once we reached the step, Phil said: "Dr. Reid open the door as narrowly as possible with just enough space to allow for you and the still-hulking Mike Davis to enter."

We found ourselves in a spacious front hall area. It opened up to the left to what must have been a family room. Every inch of the house had been stripped of appliances and floor covering. The kitchen was straight ahead of us. This is where Phil Jones was standing with a Glock held to my son's head.

"Tyler," I gasped and began approach my sniffling son.

"Take another step forward Mike and yours son's brain matter will be splattered across your face," Phil said and pushed the further in my son's head.

Phil had changed a great deal since the last time I saw him. His dark blondish hair curly hair was now straight and auburn. He had a narrow mustache that gave him the look of a movie villain. He was wearing a gray a sweater over loose jeans. He matched the description of the guy who had started to read the newspaper next the window of the coffee shop that faced the Martin Linel Library a little more than a month ago.

"Okay Phil," Reid said calmly. "You have us here as you asked. Now tell us what you want."

"Retribution Spencer," he said evenly and then said suddenly: "Hold your gun to Mike's head."

Spencer looked shocked. Phil jabbed my son's head and he squeaked. "Now!"

Spencer shakily complied. I felt the cold metal barrel against my left temple. I shivered.

"How does it feel Mike?" Phil asked tauntingly. "To have your life in danger. To be afraid of what someone might do to you."

"Phil I won't kill Mike," Spencer said.

"You would choose to save the life of a man who spent his whole life bullying, abusing, and manipulating other people over that of a child who has tremendous potential?"

"How do I know you won't just kill Tyler afterwards?"

"I am doing Tyler a noble favor. He may be traumatized for a period of time after these events. But his mother seems mildly intelligent despite her naiveté, will most likely ensure that he sees the best therapists available. In the end he will be free of the influence of a man who committed unspeakable acts of bullying."

"Dad," Tyler whimpered. "What's going on?"

I didn't know what to say to my son. He didn't belong here. The worst thing that had ever happened to him up until this point was having ended up with me for a father.

"Phil," Spencer said suddenly. "I only remember parts of what he did to me. I thought they were mostly nightmares. I never remembered enough about him to want to kill him."

This was strange. Spencer seemed to remember everything I did to him. He was playing an angle.

Spencer looked to Phil desperately. "Please Phil. I can't just kill this man in cold blood. I have been blocking most of the memories for so long. You seem to be the only one knows about all of Mike atrocities and I won't be able to learn them after you are taken into custody. Just tell me what he did to me!"

I am not the brightest guy in the world by any stretch of the imagination. But hanging around Spencer for most of the day has taught me a little bit about how to look at things differently. I trusted Spencer as much as I didn't like where this might be going. I looked straight at Tyler and made a subtle hand motion.

Phil sighed. "You really don't remember?"

Spencer nodded his head his adamantly.

"Well he started off small since he was a freshman football player. He slammed you into walls whenever he happened to walking in the same direction as you. He threw your books into the garbage. Then to help as part of the team initiation, Nick Niles threw you into the dumpster and Mike slammed the lid shut."

Spencer's eyes widened. "So that is why I'm afraid of the dark!"

"In the end Mike was always Nick's goon. Don't worry, Nick got what his deserved. I found the prick drinking buying drinks for girls out of his league at a club in Miami. I paid a girl to slip something and lead him onto the beach. I stabbed him to death and threw him in a dumpster!" He said with a slight grin.

Spencer began to blink rapidly. "What else? I can feel there's more."

"You really want to know the most heinous thing he did?" He felt genuine sorrow for Spencer.

Spencer's breathing became uneven. "I'm starting to feel sensations on my back. Tell me!"

"Nick got Alexa Lisbon in on the act and lured you to the south goal post. Mike was the one to hold you down as Nick pulled your pants-"

"Ahh!" Spencer moaned. Tears began to stream his face down. "They stood around and laughed at me as I hung there, naked!"

I was too terrified to look at Tyler's faced. I glared at Phil instead. "How do you even know about that Phil? I don't remember seeing you there."

Phil rolled his eyes with disbelief. "People talk you imbecile! Joey Sands, the stoner slash president of the Honor Society was the one brought the booze!"

Spencer whole body was shaking he closed his eyes and shook his head. "Oh no Phil, there's more! I remember Mike looking at me strangely as I was hanging there. The next day he shoved me into a bathroom. First it was just the usual swirly. But, but" he stammered. "Then he kept holding my head there with one hand. And then with his other hand, he began to pull my pants down-" Spencer stepped back and began to sob hysterically.

"You bastard!" Phil screamed and aimed his gun at me. A shot went off.

I found myself on the ground covered in some sort of ruble. I was coughing hard as I looked around and was stunned by what I saw.

The guy called Agent Morgan was pinning Phil to the ground. The gun was few feet away. My best guess based off the cop shows I'd watched was that the agent had grabbed Phil from behind and forced his shot into the rotting ceiling.

But what shocked me even more was the sight of Reid with my son. He had pulled off vest and dress shirt and was wiping Tyler's face with the clean sections.

"It's okay Tyler," he said gently. "I lied. I lied about everything. The guy who took you lied too. Phil didn't like your Dad because he dated the girl he had had a crush on for years."

Tyler nodded. "I know. Dad gave me the bunting signal." He proceeded to demonstrate the hand motion pitchers use show the error he made was on purpose.

Spencer smiled. "Wow! I totally missed that. I think the FBI should learn a few of those signs."

Tyler beamed. The look of joy on my son's face shocked me into action. I rushed to him. "Tyler!" I yelled as I threw my arms around him and lifted him up.

"Dad!" his muffled voiced said. "You're crushing me!"

I loosened my grip on him and looked at his face. "I swear I'll never let you go!"

"I know," he nuzzled in my shoulder and sniffled. "I love you."

I have always loved hearing that sentence. But I don't think I ever loved those words as much as I did at that moment.

"Guys there's an ambulance waiting outside," Spencer said softly. "You two really need to be checked out and your mom is waiting there."

I turned and looked at Spencer. Words failed me. The last part about the toilet scene was a complete lie. But everything else, every awful thing I had ever done to him now appeared false in the eyes of my son.

Spencer gave me look of kind assurance. "Go on Mike. Take care of your son."

I walked through the door as cops poured in.

"Bye Spence!" Tyler shouted brightly. As I carried him to the waiting ambulance truck and my sobbing wife, Tyler said: "Dad you have some really cool friends."

Reid stood on the step outside, wiping his brow with a wet cloth. He watched the family reunion taking place several feet away from him.

Morgan appeared wiping his arms with a rag. "So you really let that kid believe his dad wasn't bullying jerk?"

Reid kept staring out into the distance. "I trust that Mike will find a way to tell him about his past when the time is right."

"Did that guy really-"

"No Morgan!" Spencer said with a note of frustration. "I needed to come up with something that would make Jones completely snap."

He returned to staring into the darkening skies. "Though after the goal post incident, part of me always feared something like that might happen," he said with a slight quiver in his voice.

Morgan decided to change the subject. "That was quite a show you put on. It was practically stage-worthy. Where'd you learn to act like that Reid?"

"Swapping book bets isn't the only thing Garcia and I have been doing together lately," Reid said with a secretive smile. He walked away from a dumbfounded Morgan.

Prentiss appeared at the doorway. "And I thought I was the BAU agent with the most secrets."