CHAPTER 5
Several hours has passed and the team had gathered at the round table in the conference room. The screen mounted to the wall flickered with life as Garcia pressed button on the matte silver remote in her hand. She gulped as Reid's FBI photo appeared on screen. It had been taken many years prior. His face was more gaunt and his hair was shorter. Emily looked up at the screen, then back at her team mates.
"What do we have so far?" she asked.
"No sign of Reid at his apartment. Everything was in place, door was locked. No sign of forced entry," replied Tara as she glanced quickly at JJ who was staring at the screen with tears in her eyes.
"Reid's bag was found in a trashcan in the subway station and it had his phone and creds inside," replied Matt.
"CSI tested blood on the floor. We're just waiting for the results," chipped in Luke.
"Which we now have," responded Garcia, "It's confirmed to be Reid's." A solemn sigh spread across the conference room.
"I did some digging through the statements taken by the PD. It seems as though the kid put up one hell of a fight. They describe Reid as wrestling with the assailant on the floor for a gun, then gets out knocked out with the gun. He's thrown over the guy's shoulder and he takes off. I've got to admit, I'm pretty proud of the kid for fighting back," responded Rossi as he leaned back in his chair and folded his hands across his stomach.
The team sat silently for a moment in deep contemplation. A knock at the door interrupted their thoughts. Agent Anderson sheepishly entered the conference room with a beige envelope in his hands.
"Sorry this was just dropped off. It says BAU so I assumed it was for you," he quickly handed the envelope to Luke who was sat nearest to the door and then excused himself. Luke quickly tore open the envelope and inverted it, allowing the contents to drop out and onto the table. A small memory card fell out with a clatter. Luke frowned in confusion. Garcia appeared beside him and picked up the memory card. She returned to the other side of the table and sat down at the laptop that she had set up. She slid the memory card in to the side of the laptop with a click. Garcia pressed a button so that her laptop screen was showing on the monitor on the wall. A black window opened with a large white play arrow in the centre. Garcia's breath hitched in her throat. This was never a good sign...
"Press play please, Garcia" asked Emily as she steeled herself, ready to compartmentalize. Garcia quickly nodded and pressed play with a quick tap on her keyboard. The video came to life, showing a face adorned with a balaclava and dark soulless eyes.
"BAU! Hello, friends. SSA Luke Alvez, I think you'll like this one. As you'll soon see, I have recently made acquaintance with a certain Spencer Reid. We're going to have so much fun. Let's see if you can find where I have your little doctor. As for tracing this, you won't. A Miss Garcia knows all about proxy servers and such like, so she knows she won't be able to trace this. Anyway, to our guest of honour- Dr Spencer Reid!" Luke stiffened up at the voice. It sounded familiar to him somehow, he just couldn't place it at that moment in time. The camera panned around until it fell upon a struggling figure in a chair. The man in the chair was wearing a lavender shirt which was open at the collar, a blue silk tie which was now crooked, a navy cardigan and a black blazer. Colourful mismatched socks showed between the black slacks and converse shoes. This was clearly Spencer Reid. He tapped his foot in annoyance, as much as the zip ties would allow and his curses were muffled behind a large strip of duct tape. Congealed blood streaked the left side of his face from a cut above his left eyebrow and fresh blood ran down the tape from his nostrils. JJ let out a choked sob.
"I believe you're acquainted with my boss, Agent Alvez. My understanding is that our friend here was a very naughty boy on D block". Luke tensed again, "you won't find your little doctor but out of decency I'm giving you three days to try. Make no mistake, agents. He will be dead after three days." The video abruptly ended.
The team turned and stared at Luke. JJ's face was streaked with tears. Garcia was speechless as her head bounced between Luke and the screen.
"Alvez, you know this jerk-off?" asked Tara, her mouth agape and jabbing a thumb towards the screen.
"He sounds familiar but I can't place him. He mentioned Reid being in prison, so his boss must be someone on the inside-" His mouth gaped and his eyes widened as the thought dawned on him, "I think we need to have a chat with Calvin Shaw".
"Didn't he befriend Reid in prison?" asked Rossi, his greying eyebrows crossed into a frown.
"I wouldn't call it a friendship, Rossi. Reid feared for his safety with Shaw. I agree with Luke. We need to go and have a chat with him. Garcia, I'd like you to go through any of Shaw's associates in and out of prison. Tara, you will come with us. I want you to see what you can make of Shaw. JJ, Matt and Rossi, I want you to try and come up with a basic profile of Reid's kidnapper," directed Emily as she came to her feet, folding her hands in front of her.
Reid's eyes fluttered as he slowly came to. His neck ached from his chin resting on his chest. He slowly looked around and caught sight of his arms. His cardigan and jacket had been removed and his shirt sleeves were rolled to his elbows. His kidnapper had clearly removed his outer layer of clothing whilst he was unconscious. Reid tested his bonds. His wrists were bound behind his back around the chair once more with zip ties. The numbness in his feet indicated that his ankles remained tied to the legs of the chair. His socks and shoes had also been removed, leaving him barefoot. His tie had also been taken off and was amongst the pile of his belongings in the corner. A voice from behind startled Reid.
"I'd hate for you to be comfortable, Dr Reid. I may be keeping you alive for now, but that doesn't mean this is going to be pleasant." The man stepped in front of Reid and smiled as he sliced off a piece of apple with his flick knife and lapped it up from the blade with his tongue. Reid's eyes narrowed. The man was no longer wearing his balaclava. Reid mentally took note of his appearance. He looked to be in his forties, Hispanic, unshaven, black hair slicked back with a ludicrous amount of hair gel. Reid tried to place the man but couldn't. Reid's mouth felt as dry as a desert. It had been some time since he last drank- he barely sampled his usual morning coffee before he was rudely taken from the station. Reid swallowed thickly a few times.
The man considered him briefly, then set down the knife and apple on the small dining table and picked up a plastic water bottle. He held the bottle up in front of Reid to show him that it was still sealed before he twisted the cap, breaking the seal. The plastic of the bottle crackled as he brought the neck towards Reid. With his right hand, he harshly ripped the tape from Reid's lips, eliciting a gasp from his prisoner as the tape pulled at his stubble. The man pressed the bottle to Reid's chapped lips. Reid continued to glare at the man in front of him.
"It's water, Dr Reid. You've heard of water, haven't you? You know the statistics of dehydration" asked the man as he pulled the bottle away slightly. Reid took in a deep breath of cool air.
"A human body can survive without water for three days," Reid replied quietly.
"That's right, doctor." The man pressed the bottle to Reid's lips once more. Reluctantly, Reid took a sip, his senses alert for any bitter tastes. It was indeed water. After taking two more gulps from the bottle, Reid turned his head away. The man smirked a little as he screwed the cap back on the bottle and set it back down on the table.
"Who are you?" asked Reid as he glanced at the man who was now crouched down on the floor over a black duffle bag. The man chuckled as he turned his head to look over his shoulder.
"You don't remember me? Sanchez. Friend of Shaw's. I got out about a month ago," the man turned back to his bag, "Promised Shaw that I would get him some retribution for poisoning the drugs." Reid gulped quietly. He had hoped Shaw would never found out it was him that sent him to the infirmary.
"Does Shaw know what you're doing right now?" asked Reid as he steeled his voice which involuntarily started to crack with anxiety.
"You bet. In fact, I'm sure he'll be joining us soon."
"Joining us? He-he's in prison... stammered Reid, disappointed in himself that he'd let his stoic mask slip. Sanchez let out another chuckle.
"Let's just say there was a mishap with a transfer arranged by Agent Alvez." Reid's mouth bobbed opened a few times and he shivered as he tried to wrap his mind around the situation. Sanchez straightened up to his feet with a roll of silver duct tape in his hands. Reid stared intently into Sanchez' eyes.
"You don't need to do this," replied Reid.
"Oh, but I do," answered Sanchez as he pulled the tape taut and advanced on his victim. Unable to move in his restraints, Reid sat intensely still as Sanchez pressed the tape to his lips and wrapped it around his head tightly a few times before breaking it off and patting his cheek, almost lovingly.
Sanchez turned back to his bag, dropping the roll of duct tape back inside and retrieving a wooden mallet. He whirled around towards Reid with a large, yellow stained grin. Reid squeezed his eyes shut.
"Confess your sins, boy," the vivid images of Charles Hankel plaguing his eidetic memory.
"I think we need to send Shaw a little something. Maybe your team too." Sanchez took his phone out of his jeans pocket, slipped in a new memory card and set the video recorder to play before setting it on a stand on the table. Reid's eyes snapped back open and stared at Sanchez. Tucking the mallet under his arm, he pulled his balaclava out of his jacket pocket and tugged it over his head. Reid swallowed thickly, afraid of what was to come, but desperately trying to compartmentalize. Sanchez pressed play on the phone and knelt down at Reid's feet. Reid strained to see what he was doing.
With his left hand, Sanchez pinned Reid's left foot to the floor and brought the mallet down hard with the other hand. Reid felt the bones shatter as he was unable to control the muffled scream that tore through his throat. Sanchez then moved his way a little further up Reid's leg and held it in place. The mallet was harshly swung at Reid's ankle, causing the bone to snap and sickeningly twist his foot into an abnormal position. Reid could not stop the tears of pain that leaked from his eyes as his cheeks burned with shame at crying. Nausea crept up his gullet but he tried to swallow it down.
As Reid tried to breathe his way through the nausea and pain, Sanchez moved onto the other foot and ankle. By the time both feet and ankles were the wrong shape and facing the wrong way, Reid was no longer able to keep the darkness at the edges of his mind from creeping in and he was grateful to slip into unconsciousness.