2007 -Coast Guard Air Station Kodiak, Alaska:
Lt. Amber Rossi stood on the tarmac and watched as the paramedics slowly wheeled the stretcher to the waiting ambulance. There was no hurry in their movements, because there was no need. The blanket completely covered the body of the fisherman that had been pulled from the Bering Sea. There had been no signs of life when the body had been found floating in the ocean.
The fisherman, Greg Montague, had fallen overboard while he and his crew had been setting crab pots. Without a survival suit, his only real chance had been his crew managing to pluck him from the sea within minutes of him falling in. It hadn't happened. Between the choppy seas, wind-blown rain and the fading light as the sun quickly set, the crew of the Aquatic Star had lost track of their crewman. By the time Lt. Rossi and her flight crew had arrived in the area, Greg Montague had already been in the Bering Sea too long to make survival even a remote possibility.
"We did what we could and at least his family will have the body to give him a proper burial," Commander Lou Harris told her, putting a comforting hand on Lt. Rossi's shoulder. "It was the best we could do this time."
Lt. Rossi nodded, knowing her commanding officer was correct. There was no certainties in this job, especially when working in an environment such as the Bering Sea. No matter how fast they were or how hard they tried, sometimes mother nature was just faster. They couldn't save everyone. How many times had she heard those words? How many times had she said those words to someone else in comfort?
Still, knowing the truth and accepting the inevitable seemed like two vastly different things. This wasn't the first time she had pulled a lifeless corpse from the Bering Sea but with the upcoming transfer, she had been hoping there wouldn't be another time. That hadn't happened, though with a little luck, perhaps this would be the last.
The coastguard rescue swimmer watched as the paramedics loaded the stretcher into the back of the ambulance. On their faces, Amber saw the same emotion that she was feeling. The look of defeat. Unfortunately, it wasn't a feeling that she had a monopoly on. Knowing that brought little comfort to her. As the doors shut on the blanket covered body, Lt. Rossi finally turned away and headed across the tarmac to the main building, the last of her flight crew to do so.
Inside, she went to the locker room, changing out of her survival suit, showering and putting on a new uniform. A half hour after landing back at Air Station Kodiak, Lt. Rossi was standing outside of Commander Harris' office. Reaching out, she rapped on the door.
"Come in," Commander Harris called from within.
Turning the door knob, Lt. Rossi opened the door and walked slowly into the office. Closing the door behind her, she walked over to the desk, assuming the at ease position in front of the Commander's desk.
"Have a seat, Lt.," Commander Harris said, gesturing to the chairs across the desk from him. Lt. Rossi took a seat in the closest chair, but didn't relax. "What's on your mind, Lieutenant?" Harris asked.
Lt. Rossi took a deep breath and let it out slowly before she started speaking. "It's about the transfer, sir."
"We talked about this, Lieutenant. This transfer is in everybody's best interest, especially yours. This job can get to anyone. I've been trained to see the signs and what I just saw out there, on the tarmac when we came back, only reinforces the fact that this is the best thing for you. You need a break from this. No one is saying you can't ever come back."
Lt. Rossi was shaking her head as she listened to her superior officer. They had already had this conversation and she was in agreement with him and the psychologist. She needed a break from living out here in a remote area. At being the only thing that stood between some nameless victim and certain death. She had seen too much death. Had pulled too many lifeless bodies from the frigid waters up here. It was time to walk away before she lost herself. Walk away and regroup. Time to make a difference somewhere else.
"I'm in total agreement with that sir. That wasn't what I wanted to discuss."
"Oh," Commander Harris replied, relieved that he didn't have to have that conversation again. Lt. Rossi was one of the best rescue swimmers he had either trained or worked with. He hated to lose her. To have to bring in another rescue swimmer that would need to train with the team and figure out how to fit in with them all. Unfortunately, it was necessary. It was better to try and take the steps necessary to prevent the eventual burn-out that he could see coming. He knew the signs. Had seen them way too often during his years with the Coast Guard. "What did you want to discuss then?"
"I wanted to talk to you about when it would be a good time to inform the others that I will be leaving. I just haven't known when to break the news to them. I mean on one hand, I tell them and it could be a distraction. We'll be working with that hanging over all of our heads instead of just you and I knowing about it. If I wait to tell them right before I leave, then its going to come as a surprise to them at the very least."
Commander Harris nodded. "I see where you're coming from. Personally, taking into account how close a flight crew tends to get to one another after the conditions we face out there, I think I would rather know ahead of time whether one of my team is going to be leaving rather than being blind sided with the news right before they left."
"That's how I would feel to," Lt. Rossi admitted. It was the decision she had wanted to make but had been hoping for support. They were all professionals. They all knew a transfer could come in for any one of them at any time and break up the team. She knew she would be able to keep her head in the game while out on a mission if any of her team had a pending transfer looming over their head and she believed that her fellow teammates were capable of the same thing. Still, she really didn't want to be the one to be delivering that news.
"So would you like me to tell them?" Commander Harris asked, as if reading her mind.
"Would you mind?"
"Not at all. I'll break the news during our morning meeting come Monday morning. Meanwhile, why don't you head out of here and try to enjoy what is left of the weekend. With any luck we won't get any more calls for our services," Harris said, this weekend being one of those weekends that his crew were on call. So far this was the second mission they had been recalled to base for and it was only Saturday afternoon. Harris sincerely hoped there would be no more.
"Yes, sir," Lt. Rossi said getting to her feet and leaving the office.
The rest of her crew mates had already vacated the premises, headed back to whatever they had been doing. Retrieving her keys from her locker, Lt. Amber Rossi followed suit, leaving Air Station Kodiak for the second time that day, the first being at two o'clock this morning. It didn't take her long to drive to the boarding house she was staying at in Kodiak.
Amber had thought about getting a bigger place more than once during her tour up here in Alaska. She had never got much further than thinking about it, only ever taking a look at one apartment. Though more room would have been nice, it also would have meant more housework as well as a greater feeling of isolation.
In the city of a little over six thousand people, there could already be a sense of isolation for the members of the Coast Guard. Fishing was Kodiak's major industry and to the fisherman who fished the waters surrounding Kodiak island, the United States Coast Guard were everything from the law enforcers to their saviors. They were treated with respect but often held at a distance. After all, you didn't want a minor rule violation to get mentioned in casual conversation and get a fine for something that otherwise would have gone unnoticed.
The boarding house Amber stayed at was run by a lady in her early sixties, Mrs. Eve Franklin. Her father, George Morton, had been a fisherman until he retired and then had lived his life out here on Kodiak island. Mrs. Franklin was a widow of twenty years, her husband having been lost to the sea when his boat went down. Ben Franklin had worked as a deck hand on George Morton's boat, having come looking for his part of the Alaskan fisherman's bounty. It was how he had met his wife, as Eve had sometimes accompanied her father during trips. When she didn't go out with him she was always there to meet the boat at the docks when they returned.
Eve and Ben had quickly fallen in love, Ben staying in Kodiak during the off season instead of heading back to his own family. Two years after they had first met, the two were married during a June wedding on Kodiak. Their's was a life of love, though also of many trials. Eve lost two children before their son Jake was born. Jake had never had the blood of a fisherman in him, and had left for NYU upon graduating highschool. A lawyer now with a New York City Firm, Jake Franklin kept in touch with his mother, though seldom came to visit.
Though her son had invited her to come live with him and his family, Eve couldn't bring herself to leave Kodiak. This was her home. This was where her heart belonged. With the toughness that all the citizens of Kodiak showed, Eve had went about fixing up and opening the Northern Lights Boarding House. It boasted five rooms, with two shared bathrooms upstairs. Downstairs was the communal dinning room, living room, kitchen, and a small library and study area. Eve had even recently been able to renovate the basement and furnish it with some work out equipment for her boarders.
Currently, the Northern Lights Boarding House was at full capacity, and all the boarders had been there for the past year. Mrs. Franklin was a kind and fair landlady and they all adored her, from the fifty-something Dr. Marcus Martin who taught Philosophy at the University of Alaska to the eighteen year old Macy Days, who was a student at the aforementioned University. She had a few rules, necessary to keep order and set times for meals. That never stopped her from coming up with something for one of the boarding house's occupants to eat when their schedules caused them to miss the appointed meal times, though the kitchen was open for all of them to use.
Outside of her flight crew, her fellow boarders and land lady made up Amber Rossi's social circle here in Kodiak. She enjoyed discussing philosophy with Dr. Martin. Hearing about Lloyd Russell's day at the sporting goods shop that he owned and run. Give advice to the young Miss Days who was experiencing a lot of new things in her first year of college. Or catch a movie or go for a hike with Deputy Christine Dardin, a local Kodiak police officer around Amber's age. She was going to miss all of these people when she left Kodiak, news which had already been broken to them all, and they were the reason she had never found a place of her own. The thought of going home to an empty apartment or house after the hours she put in at Air Station Kodiak just didn't appeal to her.
"Ah, there you are, darling," Mrs. Franklin said as Amber walked into the boarding house that Saturday afternoon. "Come into the kitchen and I'll get you something to eat as you missed lunch."
"Thank-you, Mrs. Franklin, but I'm not really hungry. I just think I'm going to go upstairs and relax for a little while."
"Of course, dear. You must be tired with going back and forth between the base today. I'll call you when dinner is ready then."
"I appreciate it," Amber said, kissing the old lady's cheek as she walked past the landlady and up the stairs to her room.
Reaching her room, Amber flopped down on top of her made bed. Interlacing fingers behind her head she stared up at the ceiling. She was tired, but not a sleepy tired. It was more of a mental exhaustion. One that she had been aware of for the last few months and wondered if the upcoming changes in her life would cure it.
She had completed the coast guard rescue swimmer training, an 18 week long "A" school followed by 4 weeks of EMT training in Petaluma, CA, in mid September of 2004. Her first posting following that training had been to Air Station Sitka, Alaska. She felt as though she had been thrown right into the fire, as the conditions in the area that Air Station Sitka covered was considered the most demanding flight environment for Coast Guard aircraft operations. She had served there a year before being transferred to Air Station Kodiak following the retirement of one of the rescue swimmers here. That was three years of living in Alaska, an environment different from those she had known growing up, even though she had lived in several different places. Amber had always felt isolated from the rest of the world up here in the state separated from the rest of the costal United States. Maybe it was that isolation that was getting to her. Or maybe it was the people that they had been unable to save over the years. Victims whose faces sometimes haunted her dreams.
Whatever it was, despite leaving behind friends that she was going to miss, Amber Rossi was looking forward to leaving Alaska behind. This may have been where she had lived these last few years, but it wasn't home. She wasn't even sure where she would call home anymore. It use to be Texas, but though she had visited her mother over the years, Amber knew she had stopped considering that home back in college. Back when she had chosen to stay in LA following the school year ending after her first year in Caltech.
Amber's cell phone rang, breaking the quiet that surrounded her. Unlacing her fingers, but not moving from her laying position, Amber reached for her cell phone that was clipped to a belt loop on her jeans. Glancing at the screen, she let out a sigh, as she answered the call and put the phone to her ear.
"Hello, Mother," Amber said into the phone. She had tried several times to reach her mother, who still lived in Texas, since finding out about the transfer. After a few attempts, Amber had finally just left her mother a voice message. Apparently, she had finally gotten the message.
"You finally get out of Alaska and where do you get transferred, Washington D.C. I'm sure your father had something to do with that."
"Dad, had nothing to do with my transfer," Amber replied. "He didn't even know about it until I called him yesterday."
"It's bad enough that he corrupted you and enticed you into joining a service branch."
"Mom the Coast Guard was my decision, not Dad's. He never twisted my arm to join unlike someone who insisted that I go to college after high school. I would have joined the Marines right out of high school if you hadn't begged me to go to college. I thought giving in to that would have made you happy. I guess I was wrong."
"I wanted you to have a career that would allow you to have a family. I would have thought after you saw what your father's career did to our family . . ."
"Don't go laying all the blame for our broken family on Dad's shoulders. I may not know much about marriage but I do know that it takes two people to make it work. Dad had his reason's for joining the Marines and you couldn't handle that, which is fine. I can understand that, especially after serving in the Coast Guard these last few years, but it wasn't all his fault. You never even tried to make it work."
Amber cut herself short before she kept going. She had never cared for any of her stepfathers but getting into an argument about them wasn't going to get her anywhere. Over the years, Amber had developed her own opinions about the problems with her parents love life. Her mother had just wanted someone to take care of her. To be around all the time so she could lean on him. Her Dad joining the Marines had taken that away from her, so she left and then settled down with the first guy who came along that offered her that security. Her mother couldn't handle the idea of being alone and so had always been with someone. Even now, her mother was living with a guy, whom Amber didn't know very well, nor did she have any desire to.
Her father on the other hand didn't have the problem of needing someone else to feel whole. Amber's mother had always blamed her independent streak and stubbornness on her father's side of the family. Despite what people who didn't know him well thought, Amber also knew that her father cared deeply about other people. He had always been close to his parents and brother and sister, as well as his siblings families in later years. That caring wasn't just limited to people who were related to him by blood.
It was that trait that had lead him first to law enforcement, then the marines and afterwards the FBI. He wanted to help other people and he had. In his pursuit to help others though, David Rossi often carelessly overlooked the needs of those closest to him. It wasn't intentional, but more of being blinded to the little things by his ability to see the bigger picture. His family was often put second, something that her mother and her two step-mothers hadn't been too keen upon. Amber herself had even fallen victim to being placed second to her father's career on several occasions but when she had really needed him, he had always been there.
Neither of her parents had been good role models when it came to relationships and despite being put in between the two of them more times than she could count, Amber knew that both of her parents loved her. Still, it came no surprise to her that her ability to have a loving relationship was suspect at best. Sure, she had been on a few dates over the years. Had guys tell her that they loved her. None of them had amounted to much or lasted long with the exception of her relationship with Spencer Reid. They had been together for almost three years before they had decided that their career prospects just weren't going to allow them to stay together at that point in time. For Amber, it had been her out. Her way to escape from a relationship that was starting to scare her because for the first time in her life, she felt that she could have actually told a guy that she loved him. She hadn't though. She had held back and her and Spencer had gone their separate ways, though they had kept in touch over the years.
Now, it seemed as though the course of their lives were now bringing the two of them back together. Amber had wondered more than once if it meant that they were suppose to be together. That perhaps this time they could get their relationship right. That this time she would find the courage to tell him that she did love him, even after these last few years of being apart.
"There you go taking his side again," her mother said into the phone.
"I'm not on anyone's side. I told you years ago that I was tired of being put in between you and Dad," Amber told her. "Look, Mom, I didn't call you to get into an argument about this. I'm going to have a week free between my last day here at Kodiak and when I need to report to Station Washington. I was hoping I could take the indirect route and come see you for a few days."
"I'd love to see you," Margaret Carlton replied, sounding happy for the first time since the conversation had started.
"Great," Amber said, and started talking details with her mother about a visit to Texas in between her postings.
Washington D.C. Area:
Derek Morgan steadily rolled the paint onto the walls of one of the houses that he was currently flipping, enjoying the music that came out of the boom box sitting on the counter in the kitchen. This particular project was just about competed. All that was left was the painting and putting up the cabinet doors in the kitchen as the fixtures he had wanted for the project had just recently came in. Deciding to work on the cabinets in between coats of paint, he had started his day with painting the downstairs of the two bedroom townhouse he was working on. He had already put the first coat of paint on the living room walls, and was now working on the dinning room. Over the music he heard his cell phone ring.
Morgan place the paint roller in the paint tray, checked his hands for paint and then took his phone off of his belt. Looking at the screen he saw Reid's name and number there on the screen.
"About time you called me back, Kid," Morgan said, as he put the phone to his ear.
"Nice talking to you too," Reid said in response to his friend's unconventional greeting. "What did you want to talk to me about?"
"I was hoping you'd come have a drink with me tonight. I need to get out and unwind and I wanted some company."
"I'm not so sure I would be good company," Reid answered, his voice sounding hesitant.
"Just one good reason for you to come hang out with me as it'll put you in a better mood," Morgan replied, turning his excuse into a reason for him to join him. "You know me, Kid, I don't like taking no for an answer. It'll be easier for you to just give in now."
Reid sighed, the noise finding its way through the phone. "Fine. What time?" Reid asked.
"I'll pick you up at seven," Morgan told him. "Of course if you want to come help me out at this house . . ."
Reid laughed before Morgan got any further. "I'm surprised you're even venturing in that direction after the last chance that I tried to give you help. I think I ended up making more work for you."
"True, but it was entertaining at least."
"No thanks. I'll leave the construction work to you," Reid told him. "Besides, I'm working on an article for one of the chemistry journals."
"Do I even want to know what it is about?"
"Probably not," Reid replied, knowing his friend's interest in chemistry had been limited to getting him past the class in both high school and college. "I'll see you this evening."
"Okay," Morgan said ending the call. He clipped the phone back onto his belt and glanced at his watch. He still had some time before the real estate agent was stopping by with the guy who wanted to see the house.
Normally, Morgan wouldn't be bothering with trying to sell the house before he had completed work on it, giving that his job could keep him away for days at a time and so giving an accurate deadline of when something needed to be done by was a skill that was a foreign concept to him. This circumstance had been different though. The real estate agent he normally sold his houses through had called him last night saying that a colleague had a client who was looking for a house to buy but was unclear as to a deadline for when the deal had to be closed by. She had wanted to know if he had any properties that were close to being completed that he would be interested in showing. This house was the only one even close to being finished and so he had agreed to let the guy come take a look at the property early this afternoon.
Picking up the paint roller, Morgan went back to painting the wall. He had picked an off white for the room as he tended to keep the colors in the properties he painted soft neutral colors so that it was easier to decorate for whoever bought the place. He worked steadily and before long had finished painting the room. Leaving both the dinning room, living room and entry hall to dry, Morgan headed for the kitchen to start on the work there. He was half-way through putting up the cabinet doors when he heard the doorbell. Morgan put down his tools, and reached over to turn the radio off. Leaving his work, he headed for the front door.
Reaching the entry hall, he saw through the screen door a woman standing on the front stoop. She was wearing a business suit with a knee length skirt, and her hair was pulled up into a neat bun. Morgan figured she was the real estate agent. Behind her, he saw someone that he hadn't expected to see this weekend, his new teammate, David Rossi.
Morgan reached the front door, and opened it.
"Ann Davis, I'm the real estate agent that talked to you on the phone," the woman said immediately. "This is my client, Mr. Rossi."
"We've met," Rossi supplied.
"Come on in," Morgan said, standing aside to let the two of them into the house. "I've been painting today so I'd stay away from the walls on the first floor. I'm sure Mrs. Clark told you that I wasn't quite done with the renovations on the property."
"Yes, she did. Right now Mr. Rossi is just looking to see what is out on the market. He's not planning on making any decisions right away. It looks like you've got a lot of the work done."
"Yes I have. It's mostly the painting and some odds and ends I need to finish up on this property," Morgan replied. He was curious as to what his co-worker was looking at properties for but figured right then wasn't the time to ask. Somehow Rossi didn't strike him as the type that would be interested in renting out houses.
Morgan showed the two around the house, answering questions as they came up. They had just finished the tour when Mrs. Davis' phone rang. Excusing herself she stepped outside to answer it giving Morgan a chance to talk to Rossi alone.
"This property seems a little below your means and you don't strike me as the type that would want the hassle of rental properties," Morgan said, fishing for an answer to satisfy his curiosity.
"Right on both accounts. I'm doing a bit of scouting for my daughter. She's with the Coast Guard and is being transferred down this way. One of the reasons I'm not making any decisions yet. I need to talk things over with her first, especially as I'm sure I'm going to meet some resistance with the offer of helping her out with a house."
"I take it she's got a stubborn streak like her father then," Morgan commented.
"You could say that," Rossi said, with a small smile. "I was surprised to see you here," he commented, fishing for explanations himself.
Morgan shrugged. "Hobby of mine. I pick up run-down properties, fix them up, and then sell them. Course with the work load at the BAU, renovations can sometimes take awhile."
"Not exactly the kind of task most would consider a hobby," Rossi commented.
Morgan shrugged. It wasn't the first time he had heard that particular comment. "I can work on them at my own pace and I find the physical activity relaxing. Never have cared much for just sitting around."
Before anything else could be said between the two co-workers, Mrs. Davis came back into the house. After thanking Morgan for showing them the property, she and Rossi said good-bye and headed off to look at another prospect. Alone in the town house once again, Morgan headed back for the kitchen to finish hanging the cabinet doors. Walking toward the kitchen, he glanced down at his watch. It looked as though the second coat of paint was going to have to wait until another day so he could get ready to meet up with Reid. After the day before, he was still hoping he could get Reid to talk about whatever it was that was bothering him. Morgan had thought Reid had finally been adjusting to Gideon being gone but perhaps he had been mistaken. Or maybe it was something else altogether. Whatever the case, Morgan hoped he could get Reid to talk to him.