Chapter 07
Candlewood Suites
Watertown NY
Outside Ft. Drum Military Reservation
October 2011
"Son of a bitch!" Morgan said.
The bed looked slept in, but there was no Spencer in it.
He checked the bathroom. Nope
He checked his room and bathroom. Nope
Goddamn it!
He checked Spencer's go-bag. The toiletry kit was in the bathroom. It looked like it had been gone through, items removed, likely Spencer got dressed. His vest was still in the bottom, but his FBI windbreaker was missing. These were not signs that Spencer had been taken; these were signs that he left. I do all the door kicking, Morgan thought; surely Reid does not need both legs.
He headed out to see where Spencer might have wandered off to, which couldn't have been anywhere. This hotel was in the middle of a parking lot, next to a strip mall with the usual insurance offices and nail places, and across the street from a Wal-Mart. There was no place nearby that would interest the young doctor, was there?
But just as Morgan stepped into the hall he spotted Reid coming around the corner from the elevator hall and heading toward him. "Where the hell have you been?" Morgan snapped.
Spencer lifted the cups he was carrying. "The nap didn't help." He admitted. "I walked outside for some air."
"Why didn't you tell me?" At least he brought coffee.
Spencer's face clouded with confusion. "I did." He lifted a cup that smelled faintly minty.
"No you did not."
"I thought I did."
Trauma. Kid was a little confused. At least he hadn't gone far. "I swear to god I am going to have Garcia sew GPD chips in your underpants. Come here. Let me get my gear, we're going to go get something to eat."
"Actually I think we need to head to Ft. Drum." Spencer said.
"Why."
"Because the people from the island need to go back."
Ft. Drum Military Reservation
New York State
"What do you mean they have to go back?" The colonel in charge of the evacuation asked.
"Most of the prisoners on that island came there as children." Spencer replied. "Or they were born there. They've never lived in our world. They've never driven in a car or used the internet. They've never even eaten processed food, the lunch you've been planning would sicken most of them. Once it's safe they need to go back to familiar surroundings, the safest and healthiest way for them to transition back to modern society is to start there."
"He's right." Hotch said, and the other experts nodded their agreement. He had greeted Spencer with a hug and a reassurance that he would not need to be debriefed today. But Spencer still couldn't look at him, something was still there.
"Right now we have to re-sort them into their communities, separated by farms." Spencer continued. "Each farm has some community leaders, we identity those people and then assign each one a liaison or two from the groups helping to resettle them. Then they can take it from there."
The Colonel nodded. "Makes sense. How are you going to resort them?"
Spencer thought. "Literacy is going to be a problem..."
The refugees had been placed in large warehouses once used by the logistics division on base. Now those buildings were quickly re-labeled, and then Spencer gathered all several hundred of them out onto the giant tarmac in front of the buildings. He got up on the back of a truck and addressed the crowd. "Good morning." He said. "Most of you don't know me, I'm the schoolmaster over at Parson Farm."
"Oh, you're the one." Someone called out. There was a general chuckle at that.
Spencer smiled and continued. "I know you're all confused and probably scared right now. I'm going to come around and answer all the questions I can, but first we need to get everyone sorted out. I want all the mothers who have their children with them to keep them with them, all right?" There was a general bustle of women pulling little children in closer. "Now, see that building down there where the men are waving red flags?" They looked to the left where soldiers were waving red flags in front of a red marked warehouse. "That's for the people from Parson Farm. Everyone from Parson Farm head down there now." The group muttered and moved as some of the people started heading that way. "Now, over on that end, see the building with the blue flags? That's for people from Wilcox Farm."
In a short time each farm community that was already on base sorted themselves and moved to their respective buildings. This left only the children from the Elder's settlements, who were moved to their own building with a white flag. "Most of them likely have relatives out in the world who can be contacted." Spencer said. "Treat them as CPS removals."
"We can do that." One of the social workers said, and headed off to get started.
Spencer went to Parson Farm first. They set up a small platform for him. "Hey Teacher!" Someone called out as he came in, and he was greeted with smiles
Spencer grinned in return and gathered them all around. "Okay, I know you're all confused about what's going on. Master Parson, his older sons and the overseers have been arrested."
"Finally!" An older man in battered work clothes with an air of authority at the front said.
"Why?" Someone asked.
"It's like I've been telling you all these years." The older man said. "Slavery is illegal!"
Spencer nodded. "That's right. That means none of you are slaves anymore, you're all free."
There wasn't the murmur of happiness Morgan would have expected. Instead there was a confused stillness. "So what does that mean?" Someone asked.
"Well, for right now you're going back to the farm, likely later this afternoon. You'll need to keep organized like you have been, look after the animals and get the harvest in. And look after each other, take care of the children and keep everyone fed, that sort of thing. Over time the people who will be going out with you are going to help you figure out what you want to do."
"Will the Overseers be there?" Someone asked.
"No. No more overseers. No more lashes and no more punishments...And no more Night Barns."
Morgan didn't know what a Night Barn was, but hearing that they were gone brought cries of relief and huge smiles from the crowd. He met Hotch's eyes and knew that the other agent would be looking into the significance of that as well.
"So who's going to be in charge then?" Someone asked. "You?"
"No, I'm, um, going back home myself. Foreman and Housekeeper are going to be in charge. They're going to work with Sergeant Hern and Sarah Jones back here who are going to help get everything sorted." The two liaisons standing behind him smiled and waved. "The important things right now are that mothers are going to be reunited with their children. If your children have been traded off they will be found and brought to you. It may take a few days, but just be patient, they're being looked after. And anyone who considers themselves married should speak up when asked about it, families can stay together now, the fence is coming down." More than a few couples met eyes and grinned and moved to find each other, including Housekeeper and Foreman and more than a few same-sex couples. Spencer looked around and took a deep breath. "Another important thing, the people here are going to ask for your names." That brought an unhappy murmur from the crowd. "You don't have to share if you don't want to. It's entirely up to you. For now stay with your community, and remember your color is red. Anyone who's missing will be brought here. If you have any questions bring them to Sarah and Sergeant Hern, all right?" There were nods all around, and a general air of relief and acceptance. Spencer just smiled. "Good luck everyone." With that he stepped away.
He rejoined Hotch and Morgan and the Colonel at the door. "Why no names?" The Colonel asked.
"That's complicated." Spencer replied. "These people have been isolated for decades, for many their entire lives. They've built an entire culture to help them survive. They'll be much more willing to cooperate and work with us if we respect that culture. By community custom most people are addressed by some variant of their number. Community leaders by a work title. Even if their name comes up in a database, ask them if they want to know it or want it used. If they say no, use whatever form of address they give you."
The Colonel nodded. "Any other customs we need to know about?"
"Respect family units. Those ties run deep here. And the society leans matriarchal, expect mothers to make decisions for families and men to defer to them. Other than that nothing right off the top of my head."
"All right."
The FBI agents stepped out then. "Well done Agent Reid." Hotch said.
"Thank you." But Spencer still couldn't look him in the eye. Now he sighed and looked exhausted. "Seven more to go."