"Don't they seem a little too calm?" Priestess asked as Morgan, Reid, and herself watched through the small window looking into the office. Mycroft had remained standing, his posture composed and collective despite being the parents of a missing child; Sherlock had taken to sitting on the corner of the desk unphased and seemingly uncaring to the situation; John, the only non-family member, was the one that appeared the most anxious as he sat off to the side.
"Could just be the shock." Reid suggested.
"Maybe." Emily nodded, wishing she knew what they were saying.
"Do either of you have any enemies? Or know anyone who would want to harm Marissa" Hotch asked looking between the two brother's only to hear the third man, John, snort at the apparent redundancy of the question.
"That's going to be a long list." John muttered noticing Hotch's stare.
"Two-hundred and seventy-four people would be willing to go to these extremes to harm me." Mycroft explained briefly. "Only eighty-four of which would have been able to mobilize a unite within the United States without being noticed"
Hotch did his best to hide any signs of shock or worry from appearing on his face. It was no wonder John had stated what he did. There was no way they could investigate that many people in the allotted time frame, there was often only a twenty-four hour window to find a missing child.
"Of the people in the United States that would wish to harm me, none would use my niece as leverage." Sherlock added casually. His brother and him did not have a close relationship, nor did him and his niece, and that was the way they liked it. So no one used them against one and other.
"We'll need a list of those names." Hotch requested hoping the preliminary profile would be able to narrow it down.
"How about we narrow it down first, have your people found anything yet?" Mycroft asked. For a moment Hotch wasn't sure what to tell the man. The only the physical evidence that they had so far was an image from the security tapes depicting the back of the kidnapper's heads.
"It would seem you do." Mycroft continued, not waiting for Hotch to respond, as he pulled out his cell phone. The image on the screen was the exact image that had been recovered from the security camera.
"Where did you get that photo?" Hotch asked bemused at how he had obtained it.
"Best not to worry about that agent." Mycroft dismissed before angling the screen so both him and his brother could view it.
"White males, mid thirties, not married, no significant partner, obviously tired one of which hasn't slept in nine to ten hours." Sherlock observed.
"Thirteen." Mycroft corrected monotony.
"Agreed." The younger brother nodded after a half second of thought. "So he was likely working surveillance the night before. Why would he be involved in the kidnapping? His status puts their operation in jeopardy." Sherlock asked, though his tone suggested it was a rhetorical statement.
"The only logical conclusion is that they were working alone, a small team without the resources to have extra men on surveillance as well as the abduction." Mycroft concluded.
"A small team, not military how many names does that put it down to?" Sherlock surmised.
"Thirty three names." Mycroft answered before turning back to Hotch, who'd been watching with silent bewilderment, while John just shrugged as if to say they-do-this-a-lot-just-go-with-it.
"Anthea will get you a list of the names, Sherlock and I will go to the abduction site, and Marissa's home." Mycroft stated already turning to leave.
"Sir, I know you want to help but you have to let us handle this. We will do everything to get your daughter back but you have to trust us." Hotch insisted blocking Mycroft's path as he went to leave.
"Agent Aaron Hotchiner," Mycroft addressed him by his full name, catching him by surprise as he had never introduced himself as such. With his polite tone still in place, Mycrofts manner changed and Hotch found himself struck by the level of carefully controlled rage in his voice.
Mycroft took a threatening steep into the agents space before continuing. "You and your team are the best at what you do, but I assure you I am the best at what I do. I will get my daughter back and I will tear through anything and anyone who stands in my way." He stated eyes burrowing menacingly into Hotch's "Allow me to remind you, that whatever crimes I may commit on your soil, I have diplomatic immunity in forty-seven countries, and all fifty states. So I ask you to think about yourself, your team, and your loved ones, because their current lifestyle depends on your next move." Mycroft continued before Hotch could reply.
"Don't respond; don't say a word just steep aside and stay out of my way." Mycroft ordered darkly, and without seeing another option Hotch stepped aside.
"I tried pulling their records like you said." Garcia explained over the phone once the three men had left.
"Tried?" Morgan questioned, not used to the tech goddess to try at anything. She succeeds.
"Other than a blog, and news articles about Sherlock I can't find anything. To the untrained eye you would think it ends there, but I found several sealed files." Garcia continued.
"Unseal them Garcia." Hotch ordered simply from his spot in front of the room, still angered by the Holm's brothers' interference in their investigation.
"I tried, believe me sir I tried. I've gone so far to take a virtual crowbar to them, and I got nowhere, zip, nada, whoever was responsible for keeping Sherlock's life off the grid knew what they were doing." Garcia said simultaneously sad and impressed.
"What about Mycroft?" Hotch asked already knowing the answer. If someone went this far to keep Sherlock's life hidden, then they would have done twice as much to ensure Mycroft was as well.
"Officially, he occupies a minor role in the British government but his signature is on some prestigious documents. Unfortunately, mostly everything's classified. Lots of black marker scribbling out what would no doubt be some very juicy reading." Garcia sighed.
"I was able to get Doctor Watsons old army file, but that was all before he met the Holmes brothers." She concludes.
"Thank you baby girl." Morgan said before hanging up.
"JJ I need you working the press, Rossi see if we have a good enough description of the kidnappers to get a sketch of them. Morgan you and Reid go to Marissa's apartment, see what you can learn about her. And keep an eye on her relatives." Hotch ordered sternly.
Marissa lived in a quaint upper-class apartment complex close to the school. It was a two story, semi-detached home, classic white siding and black tiled roof with a large iron gate, and large flowered hedge. While the gate gave some security, the hedges provided many areas for someone to lie in wait and observe the residences of the home without being seen themselves. Mycroft made a mental note to have the hedge removed once this was over.
"It seems the FBI are looking into us." Mycroft stated as he tucked his phone back into his pocket and approached the house, he had given Anthea instructions to keep tabs on the BAU's progress throughout the investigation.
"There're wasting their time looking into us, when they should be searching for Marissa. Idiots." Sherlock huffed as both he and John followed behind Mycroft.
"It's standard protocol Sherlock." Mycroft stated as he looked around his daughters home. Text books were placed neatly on the corner of the coffee table near the couch. Judging by the obvious dip in the cushion and the access to natural sunlight from the adjacent window, she favored to sit there to study.
"But they are digging where they shouldn't, should our new aquatics be expecting a ride in one of your cars to an undisclosed warehouse?" Sherlock continued to rant as he circled the kitchen and dining space.
"Unlikely, unless they prove to be a problem." Mycroft answered as he glanced over at several photos on the wall. One photo was taken during a trip to the museum when she was small, another with Sherlock helping her with a middle school science project, and a third picture of Mycroft holding her as a baby. There were no recent pictures of them, as time went on Mycroft thought it was less important to document trivial moments, and instead focused on her education and honing her mind.
Now he wished he had documented those trivial moments more vigorously.
"Are you okay?" John asked, far more sympathetic to the issue at hand than Sherlock was.
"Fine." Mycroft stated as he pushed the bothersome feelings away. Mycroft Holmes did not get worried.
"Good, you're going to be no use to us staring at old photos on the wall. Why are you even here, you hate leg work?" Sherlock snapped, not liking his brother honing in on what was normally his work.
"My daughter has been kidnapped do you honestly think I'd trust you to handle this alone." Mycroft glared instantly shutting him up though, it was probably to avoid the hassle of a fight rather than intimidation.
"We don't exactly work well together." Sherlock stated, hoping to convince him to wait back at the police station.
"Then stay out of the way." Mycroft rebutted while John just scoffed at their childish bickering.
...
The trio had only started to carefully observe the apartment when the front door opened and Agents Morgan and Reid walked in.
"What are you doing here?" Sherlock asked rudely.
"We're here to profile Marissa's home." Morgan said casually. It was a partial truth, they needed information for victomology, but mostly they needed to keep an eye on her father and uncle.
"Please, you're here to watch us." Sherlock mocked opening his mouth to say something else, but was stopped by John.
"Sherlock!" The former army doctor barked. "Can you try not to get arrested for obstruction of justice?"
"Fine." Sherlock shouted as if it was an impossible decision, before he marched up the stairs.
Morgan and Reid followed close behind until they reached Marissa's bedroom. The walls were painted a light grey with a single wall coloured a deep purple. Everything was elegant in its simplicity; there was no big flat screen or dramatic roaring fireplace. Just a new oak desk, papers neatly organized on top of it, with matching side table. Along with a classic area rug, and golden framed mirror there was a tall book case which stretched from floor to ceiling.
It was also far to clean, and organized, to be the room of a busy high school student who lived on her own.
"This room could pass a military inspection." Reid stated as he looked through the papers on the desk.
"I don't remember Marissa being such a neat freak when she wasn't under your watch." Sherlock stated looking over to his brother.
"She wasn't." Mycroft replied as his eyes examined every aspect of the room, looking for what did or didn't belong.
"She knew someone was watching her, probably thought it was one of your men." Sherlock theorized causing Mycroft's heart to drop, even if he didn't show it. His security detail was meant to protect her, not make her more venerable.
"Have you technical analysis bring up parking permits, traffic tickets, or sightings of any black SUVs' outside or near this location." Sherlock instructed the two agents.
"Why?" Morgan asked turning towards the younger brother, holding back the urge to tell him that they didn't work for him.
"It's what his men use when they're tailing her." Sherlock stated, nudging his head to his brother.
Morgan wasn't surprised by that statement. A man like Mycroft needed control, so it wasn't unexpected that he was having his daughter watched even while he was in London.
"She's been writing stories." Reid said as he started looking through the journals in Marissa's desk. "Crime stories mostly, some romance." Reid summarised as he opened several of the journals and began reading them all at once, running his finger down the center of one page before repeating the process on another journal. "There are some detailed passages of drug use and effects."
"You think she was using?" Morgan asked.
"They are very descriptive, suggest first hand-"
"Marissa does not do drugs." Sherlock cut in, obviously angered by the conversation.
"We're not here to judge your niece." Morgan said sympathetically, "But-"
"Then stop looking for things that you will not find." Sherlock cut him off again. "She was taken from her school not from a back street ally; none of her personal matters could have prevented that."
"I know, but to know what type of person she is will help us know if there was another reason she was targeted or if she made herself vulnerable. We are not judging her or saying any of this is her fault, but we need to know everything." Morgan tried to reason.
"Marissa did not do drugs." Sherlock stated firmly again. She had seen what drugs had done to him, and swore to both her father and her uncle that she would never so much as touch any drug.
"Agent Morgan, please inspect the closet there." Mycroft interjected as he disrupted their conversation.
"Why?" Morgan asked but moved to the door anyway.
"There is a scuff mark on the floor where the rest of the floor is pristine; something had been dragged in there recently." Mycroft explained.
Morgan looked down at the floor, surprised to see the smallest scuff marks heading towards the closet. How he noticed that from across the room Morgan did not know. Opening the closet quickly, he was not expecting what fell out.
A woman's body.
"That would be Mrs. Woods, Marissa's housekeeper." Mycroft said emotionlessly.