"They killed the house keeper." Morgan relayed into the phone. "They probably came here looking for something, before or after the kidnapping, Mrs Woods was collateral damage.
"Wrong place, wrong time." Hotch stated humorously.
Rubbing his temples Hotch contemplated how this changed the profile. Before they were dealing with kidnappers, now they were dealing with killers.
"This looks more personal to me, not just collateral damage." Morgan said as he walked back into the bedroom. The police had yet to arrive on the scene leaving Mrs. Woods body to remain on the floor of the closet. There was obvious discoloration on her neck and face suggesting she was beaten pre-mortem.
"Do you know if anything was taken?" Hotch asked.
"Mycroft and Sherlock looked through the house, only her laptop is missing." Morgan explained.
"Is there anything on her laptop that's of any value?" Reid asked the two.
Mycroft hesitated briefly, but ultimately told the two agents what he was thinking. "There is a security program that can only be accessed from one of three computers, one back in London, another by me, and the third-"
"Marissa's." Reid finished.
"Why the hell would you give your daughter access to something like that?" Sherlock shouted at his brother. The notion of giving a teenage girl access to not only something so valuable, but dangerous enough to put her life in jeopardy...he didn't think Mycroft was capable of that.
"She wished to learn more about my work. It's hardly a program of national security; it's merely the prototype of what could one day be useful." Mycroft said defensively. "But the software itself is incredibly valuable."
"How valuable?" Morgan asked with his ear still pressed to the phone.
"Valuable enough to make someone very rich, very quickly." Mycroft stated.
"You get all that Hotch?" Morgan asked as he walked out of the room.
When he was sure no one could overhear he continued. "I've been thinking, even if this is just about the money, these guys took her knowing who she was. It would have been easier to put up a ransom, if the computer was what they were after the ransom would be a perfect distraction and a second potential profit."
"You're right." The fact that their still hadn't been a ransom implied money wasn't the kidnappers only motivation. "We're past the twelve hour mark, it's likely that they were after the software on her laptop, but it's too soon to rule out a personal attack on Mr Holmes as well." Hotch said seriously.
"They didn't wear mask, she's saw their face which means." Morgan continued.
"That once they get what they want, they will kill her. I know." Hotch said sadly just as JJ came up to him with a file.
"Hold on one second Morgan." Hotch paused as he read the document carefully, it seems Garcia was successful in uncovering a small bit of dirt on Sherlock Holmes.
"It appears Sherlock's been having some financial difficulties. He's been refusing to take job offers that didn't interest him, and has started to fall behind on his rent. As well, he and his brother are not as close as we originally assumed. In fact, they don't like being near each other let alone work together." Hotch relayed into the phone. That alone wasn't enough to warrant abducting his own niece, but it would hopefully get him talking. There was something about his uncaring attitude that irked Hotch
"What do you want to do?" Morgan asked as he glanced up the stairs to make sure they weren't coming down yet.
"Bring them back to the station as soon as you're done." Hotch said. "Sherlock and I need to have a conversation."
"Who ever took her wasn't looking for ransom or they would have called by now." Hotch said thirty minutes later when Sherlock and John were sitting in the office while Mycroft was briefed elsewhere.
"What does that mean?" John asked worried
"It means they are either idiots, who didn't realised they could double their pay by asking for a ransom and steal the software, or more likely they took her as a way to harm Mycroft. Either way it does not bode well for her once she's outlived her usefulness." Sherlock stated without any emotion in his voice.
Hotch was certainly impressed with both the Holmes brothers, they were sharp, but their personalities were far less outstanding.
"What can you tell me about your living situation?" Hotch changed the line of questioning, all the while watching for Sherlock to respond.
"What about it?" Sherlock asked.
"You've started to fall behind on your rent haven't you." Hotch stated, not phrasing it as a question but as a fact.
"If you're implying that I had Marissa kidnapped to make some extra cash you are sadly mistaken. Besides, Mrs. Hudson hardly cares about a few late payments." Sherlock mocked.
"We also looked into your relationship with your brother; you two had a bit of a falling out." Hotch wouldn't go so far as to say they hated each other, but the two put on an impressive act that they did. Even if it was obvious to the team that they cared a great deal for the others well being.
"Yes." Sherlock stated, that was common knowledge.
"It must be hard having an over bearing brother like him, an important government official who has done so well for himself. He's able to send his daughter to fancy boarding schools, while you are known only as a detective and a recovering addict." Hotch pushed, he need him to react to what he was saying.
"Certainly done your research haven't you?" Sherlock smirked.
"Hold on, what are you getting at? You don't think Sherlock was jealous and decided to kidnap his own niece to spite his brother, he was in London for Christ sake." John glared, quickly becoming hostile.
"It wouldn't be hard for you to have arranged it, would it Mr. Holmes." Hotch continued.
"You're crossing a line agent." John defended.
"Calm down John, it's a logical theory and certainly sounds like something I would do. It's completely wrong, but logical." Sherlock continued to mock without any real concern.
"You didn't have anything to do with this." John stated firmly.
"How do you know that?" Sherlock asked curiously.
"Because you're too big of an ass and a show off not to have bragged about it by now." John answered quickly. It wasn't something a good friend would say about the other in such situation, but the two obviously had a complicated friendship.
"Or you enjoyment comes from thinking you've gotten away with it." Hotch said.
"What exactly are you trying to accomplish Agent Hotchner? You're not a complete imbecile so you're smart enough to realise I didn't do this, so what are you trying to do? Gauge a certain response?" Sherlock asked, already getting to the point of the matter. Hotch had hoped that by getting him to admit how much Marissa meant to him, he could convince him and Mycroft to work with the team. But that wasn't an option until he stopped viewing this as a normal case, he needed to make it personal for him.
"I am trying to find your niece." Hotch said through grit teeth.
"Getting emotion over someone you don't even know, honestly how do you manage to get anything done if you make each case personal?" Sherlock laughed adjusting the scarf around his neck.
"Sherlock." John signed in a tone that had become synonymous with shut-up.
"We don't make a habit of getting emotionally involved, but I know one thing." Hotch glared "If it was my child that had been taken, or my niece, I wouldn't be sitting her so calmly."
"If your son had been taken, what good would you be to him running around in a panic?" Sherlock asked.
"How do you know I have a son?" Hotch asked caught off guard by Sherlock's response.
"Please, your tie, the ink marks on your hand, of course you have a son." Sherlock said in his usual condescending voice.
"It was a lucky guess." John piped in.
"Balance of probabilities." Sherlock dismissed. "The point being, you mistake my lack of emotion for not caring, but I assure you agent Hotchner that is not the case at all. We all want to keep those we care about protected, but in this situation what good will panicking do? There is no need to get emotional, worry will only be a distraction, we deal with situations with logical increments to retrieve Marissa. To do that we must be focused."
Hotch was slightly shocked, he had all but admitted to caring about his nice, now was the time to get to the point of the matter. "If you care about her, if you want to get her home safe then you need to start working with us Sherlock. For Marissa's sake, can you do that?"
There was a long pause. Hotch could practically see the wheels turning in the young man's mind.
"Yes." Sherlock answered but it sounded like he was admitting defeat by agreeing to work with anyone. But for Marissa's sake he would swallow his pride and accept all the help he could. He only hoped they wouldn't be too late.
Marissa sat in the middle seat in the back of an old car, her clenched jaw the only sign that she was upset. She remained perfectly composed willing herself not to fidget; she refused to give her kidnappers the satisfaction of seeing her frightened. Even as the car turned sharply she did not sway to either side, not wanting to touch either of the men sitting next to her.
The moment they had left the school a blindfold had been tied tightly over her eyes and she was thrown inside the old model car. The vehicle smelt like her uncle's old apartment, the scent of nicotine and smoke absorbed into the fabric seats.
They had been driving for hours, most likely because the kidnappers were trying to confuse her, in order to make her think they were driving out further then they were. But Marissa had seen through that plan when they made their fourth right turn in a row, effectively turning in a circle. They were either idiots or lost, perhaps both.
She tried not to underestimate the men, or dread on the mundane situation she found herself in. It wasn't as if she had anything to worry about, her father was likely on the way here now and these men didn't stand a chance in hiding from him. Marissa was more bothered by the boring car ride and lack of creativity put into her kidnapping. On the bright side she would likely be excused from the rest of history class and gym class this afternoon, she smirked.
Final they reached their destination, and Marissa was forcefully pulled out of the car and dragged in an unknown direction.
Scuffing her feet she noticed the ground was composed of packed dirt, possibly a construction site, likely an abandoned warehouse inside the town limits.
Blindly she allowed herself to be led forward into a cement floor structure and up a rickety staircase. She heard the floor boards squeak in under them and the sound of a large door slamming closed. Two men, judging by the footsteps, had brought her into the room while the third man waited downstairs.
Marissa internally flinched when a large hand brushed agents her cheek as the man removed the blindfold.
It was still light out, Marissa surmised as she noticed the sunlight piercing through the boarded windows, they must have been driving for only a few hours. As she expected the room was that of an old warehouse due for demolition, but the men did not give her time to exploit any usable details of her location.
The two large men circled her; one stopped behind her gripped her by the upper arm while the other marched up to her, cracked his knuckles, and invaded her personal space. He kept his face scrunched up in what was meant to be a frightening scowl, but Marissa did not show any reaction to either of them.
These two had seen too many movies, watched to many scenes directed at intimidating the captive as they circled her like caught were trying to physically intimidate her, Marissa thought bemused by the situation.
Vaguely she heard people talking downstairs, the driver from earlier and a woman. Moments later the driver brought up her home computer and handed to one of the men before leaving again.
The door downstairs closed, and the car engine roared to life signalling that the third man had left, leaving her with the two men here and an unknown woman who may still be waiting downstairs. There may also be others waiting with her, and with too many unknown variables Marissa could not make a move yet.
...
The larger of the men held her laptop in front of her, before shouting orders to her in a thick accent.
The man spoke was not completely fluent, but the language had a Salvic root, and words similar to those in Turkish- which didn't help her much, as well as German- which she was fluent in. Besides the words she recognized, there was only one thing on her computer that would be any interest to them. Altogether she was able to understand what he wanted her to do.
"He says." The man holding her from behind started, but she cut him off vigorously.
"I know what he said." Marissa snapped as she pulled away from him. "одговор је не" She responded bitterly hoping her Serbian was good enough to get across her refusal.
The first man grabbed her by the upper arm, tightly, before shoving her into a chair. Once she was seated a wooden box was slammed down in front of her, her computer placed on top of it.
"I said, the answer is no." Marissa repeated herself in English this time. "идиоти" She muttered, it was the one words she could say in nearly every language. idiots.
That remark earned her a hard slap to the face, and if it hadn't been for the larger mans tight grip would have no doubt sent her to the floor.
Marissa turned her face back to him, the taste of blood in her mouth, as she fixed him with a stone cold Holmes gaze.
The skull, eyes, larynx, jugular, spine, lungs, ribs, liver, kidney, heart, carotid and subclavian artery she thought clinically. The right attack to any of those regions and she could easily kill or immobilise the men in front of her. She simply had to wait for an opening.
But with the large man continued to tower over here, obviously not about to let a little girl tell them what to do it wouldn't be easy to escape just yet.
This was going to be a long day. She thought dryly.
"The only black SUV belonged to a Richard Mason, done three years for armed robbery." Garcia explained over the phone to the rest of the team.
"What about the rest of the robbers?" Hotch asked.
"From what I can tell they are all in different stats, I'll confirm with their parole officers but from what I can tell Richard is running with a different group this time."
"Thanks Garcia." Morgan said before looking over to Hotch. "Should we tell her family about this?"
"No, until we're sure where we stand with the two Holme's brothers it's best to leave them on their own and continue with our investigation as normal." They may have gotten Sherlock to open up to the possibly of working together, but that did not mean the team had to share details with him. In all honestly he feared what Sherlock or Mycroft would do if they got a hold of the men who may have kidnapped Marissa.
Elsewhere Mycroft re-read a text that Anthea had sent. "It seems the FBI have gotten a match to a Black SUV." He stated dryly.
"The BAU team will have him brought in, we'll get to question him then. Unless you plan to have a word with him before that." Sherlock added noticing the change in his brothers expression.
"I've already instructed for him to be picked up." Mycroft said as he climbed into his car.