Emily gives him a big hug. "I could marry you, Reid!"
He smiles. "Don't tell JJ."
The two hurry into the dining room. For the first time since they received the case file they feel a glimmer of hope.
"Garcia, I figured out the name of the man who was dubbing the DVD's. I know he was in New York City."
Garcia reaches out her hand. "Gimmee!"
Reid hands her the information and she starts to type. "Okay, we have Mr. Roderick Cammile. And where the hell are you…aha, he owns a brownstone in the city that had once belonged to a film editor."
"And that would give him the equipment he needs to dub the DVD's."
"Yep! He is…oh…shit…he's dead."
Emily drops down into a vacant chair.
"What?" Reid asks.
"Died a year ago in a car accident," Garcia reports. "His house and all his belongings were sold to pay off debtors."
Morgan frowns. "We need to find out who bought his things. No way was this unsub going to risk one of his DVD's falling into the wrong hands."
"Gotcha." Garcia starts to type. "And welcome to bureaucratic bullshit. The auction has been completed but the full disclosure has not been posted yet."
"Give me a name and address. Time to talk to someone at the comptroller's office," Morgan states.
Garcia gets him all the information pertaining to their first solid lead. The agent heads out to see what he can find out about the people who participated in the auction.
Reluctantly, Emily goes back upstairs to the office. Just 50 or so more DVD's and she'd be done. She drops down into the chair and grabs the next, professionally done disc. As she goes to put it in she suddenly stops.
"Oh, fuck. Oh, shit we've been looking at this all wrong. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck."
She leaps up and races back downstairs. "REID! We're wrong!"
He steps into the hallway from the living room. Garcia and JJ step out of the dining room. Emily stares into Reid's eyes.
"There's the pedophiles and there's the businessman."
Reid sees what she's saying immediately. "He's the one that arranges the house, arranges the meetings- -"
"And then sells the finished product. We're looking for a mastermind who created a whole network of bastards," Emily finishes.
"Katie Cole…she has to know him," Reid says.
"There are videos taken somewhere else. We need to see Camille's house. That may have been his original hideout. Then something happened to get it moved here. He moved the sex and kids to a neutral location."
"And then Camille died. But since this place is still being used the businessman has to still be active," Reid states.
"And now he's lost his base of operations and his safety house. He'll find another city, another state to start again." She points towards the dining room. "His neighbor calling in the tip about the boy caused him to lose those computers. He needs them back."
"Shit," JJ mumbles. She turns to Garcia. "Let's get them packed up. We need to move them to the FBI office. They aren't secure here if he tries to come back for them."
"Right." The two blondes hurry into the dining room to get everything packed up.
Emily turns back to Reid. "I'll call Hotch. Break the business codes, Reid. We bust his business, we bust that bastard."
Reid nods and gets back into the living room. Emily whips out her phone. "Hotch! We need to get into a house in the city."
Morgan sits down with the woman that had handled the auction of the brownstone and its contents.
"So since he had no will and no relatives, the contents were auctioned off, right?"
"Correct."
"I need to know if there was anyone that made sure to buy all the electronic equipment: dubbing machines, DVD players, computers."
The woman frowns. "Agent Morgan, I feel strange letting you see this information. Maybe I should contact our counsel."
Morgan sits forward. "The man was dubbing child pornography, including snuff films. Two of my partners are having to watch film and video of that depravity to try to track down a child rapist and murderer. A little boy is in the hospital after having unimaginably horrid things done to his innocent body. Make sure you tell your counsel, that. Oh, and if this guy has another place? There's probably a kid getting raped there as you waste time."
The woman had gotten paler and paler as Morgan talked. He knew it was harsh but there was no time of politics. The woman opens a drawer and pulls out a thumb drive.
"The auction lists are on here. You can use my assistant's computer. She's on vacation."
Morgan takes it from her. "Thank you."
He goes out and gets set up at the vacant desk. Soon he is looking at a 127 page Excel file of auctioned items. He arranges it by purchaser and finds two names come up over and over again. He pulls out his phone.
"Garcia, I need you to run a search for me."
"Email me the info. We're moving the computers to a secure location at the FBI office."
"What? Why?"
"The Geek-namic Duo realized that the unsub will be desperate to get them back. If they aren't here a trap can be set for him without risking them being damaged."
"Damn. Good thought. Okay, I have two companies that bought a lot of things at the auction. I need to know everything about them."
"And you will as soon as I get back up and running."
"Perfect, Baby Girl."
By the time Emily drops off JJ and Garcia, Hotch has keys and a warrant for them to do a visual sweep of Camille's home. Until the final papers from the auction are signed it still belongs to the mortgage company. When Hotch explained what might have gone on there and what the public would think if the mortgage company was seen as cooperating with a pedophile ring their C.O.O. was more than happy to give up the keys.
Hotch climbs in the SUV and the two make their way over to the brownstone. Emily nods, impressed.
"Nice neighborhood, good size building, old construction. If this was his original home for abusing the kids the neighbors would have heard little. Pre-war construction was solid. Add in the modifications the film editor probably made for sound-proofing and you have the perfect set up for this asshole."
Hotch nods in agreement. "Let's go in and see if we can find anything left behind that will help."
"And I know it may have been renovated inside but maybe one of those rooms will be something I saw in one of the videos."
"Right. Let's go."
As they approach the house, something odd catches Emily's eye. She moves to the basement window.
"Hotch, window is covered from the inside. Maybe soundproofing?"
"Could be. Or just to make sure no one sees what the unsub doesn't want seen," he points out.
Emily nods in agreement. Pulling on gloves, the two agents go into the house. The main level is completely empty. On a hunch, Hotch goes over to the fireplace and reaches up to see if anything had been concealed in the now non-working showpiece. No luck. They search the main level for 20 minutes before conceding there is nothing there. Emily looks at Hotch.
"Ready for the basement."
"Sadly it's the perfect place to torture children," Hotch notes.
The two agents go downstairs. As soon as she turns on the lights, Emily inhales sharply. Hotch looks at her.
"Recognize it?"
Emily nods. She points. "The bed was there." She points to another wall. "There was a…a recliner there." She shakes her head. "You don't want to know what was against the other walls."
"You're right. And I'm sorry you know."
Emily just shrugs. "I specialize in kids. My own fucking fault."
"You can always change specialties," he suggests.
"And make someone else deal with the nightmares? That will just make me feel guilty. Look, I'll be okay, Hotch. It's just…harder now."
"I know. Say the word and someone else can handle the cases with kids for a while. Just temporarily maybe."
Emily gives him a small smile. "I'll…think about it. Thanks."
"Come on. Let's see what the upper two floors have in them."
Emily nods and starts up the stairs. Just as she reaches for the handle, the door is kicked inward. It slams into her and knocks her back into Hotch. The two agents tumble down the wooden stairs to the floor below. Hotch grunts as his head hits cement and he is knocked out.
Emily is seeing stars. She tries to get her hand to her gun but a boot connects with her head, flipping her backwards across Hotch.
"St- -stop," she mumbles, still trying to get her gun.
"Stupid bitch," a man sneers.
He kicks her once more and she is out. He stares at the two agents.
"Time to die, Cops."
Emily slowly starts to wake. Her head is throbbing. She tries to bring her hand to her head but it won't move. She tugs and registers the cuff. She blinks open her eyes and sees her left wrist is cuffed to an old radiator.
"H- -Hotch?"
She hears a moan. She looks over and sees he is cuffed beside her to the other leg of the radiator.
"Oh, this isn't good," she thinks to herself.
She uses her free hand to feel all her pockets but the unsub had been thorough: no keys, no gun, no chance for escape.
"Okay, think. JJ and Garcia know where we are. When we don't come back they will…" she sniffs. "Oh, fuck…is that gas?"
She hears the sound of a can bouncing down the stairs. She sees gas spilling out of it all over the floor and steps. Suddenly it registers in her fuzzy head: the bastard was going to burn them alive while he got rid of any evidence here at this location.
She starts to struggle, straining to see if there is any weakness in the links. No luck. As if it's a klaxon, she hears a Zippo struck.
"NO!" she screams.
Laughter is all she hears in response. She watches as the lighter is tossed down the stairs, igniting the gasoline, burning its way right towards her and Hotch.