Chapter 10-Looking For Something to Grab Onto
"Technical analyst Penelope Garcia at your service. How may I assist you today?"
Morgan's eyes narrowed. "Penelope, we need you to run a trace right away. It's urgent."
Penelope smiled. "You sound stressed, lover."
"Penelope, Hotch has been kidnapped and the son-of-a-bitch called us using his cell."
Garcia felt her stomach muscles tighten at the news. Hotch was her boss, her friend, and she liked and respected him a lot. Thoughts of Haley and Jack entered her mind.
"I'm on it. Just give me a minute."
"I'll hold. And baby doll, make it quick." Morgan could hear Penelope's fingers clicking away on her keyboard as he walked back in the living room to see the others waiting.
"Got it," Garcia said a few seconds later.
"Talk to me pretty mama."
"The address is for a Shane Cooper at 3121 Brynmar Lane, Alexandria."
"3121 Brynmar Lane. Got it," Morgan repeated. "Thanks baby girl."
"Be careful and bring back the boss man," Garcia told him.
"Wouldn't come back without him," Morgan said disconnecting the call as he and the others rushed toward the front door. He stuffed the cell back in his pocket.
Rossi looked at Prentiss. "Stay here and find out what the crime scene unit discovers and then join us."
"Right," Prentiss replied as she walked with JJ, Morgan and Rossi to the living room door. She stood in the doorway watching her three friends and co-workers walk quickly to the SUV Morgan, Rossi and Hotch had driven to the Brennaman residence wishing she could go with them, but knew at the same time what, if anything, the crime scene unit discovered could be important in finding Hotch. Sighing as she closed the door, all she could do now was wait.
Armitage continued driving normally on his way out of Alexandria, Virginia. He was never coming back there again and Hotch's team would never know where he was, not until he wanted them to find the agent's remains. He had no doubt they would continue to search for him, of that he was certain. They would continue to search until they were either forced or ordered to give up the search believing he would never be found or presumed dead and the search called off. Then, and only then, would he contact them and tell them where Hotchner's body or remains could be found. Then, he would sit back and watch the agent's team fall apart due to their inconsolable grief. But until such time, he would put the agent through hell. He chuckled as he drove. Maybe, just maybe, he might even reconsider getting him addicted to Phenobarbital. It might prove to be fun after all.
Seeing the agent returned to the FBI a hopeless drug addict could be fun and a source of amusement. He'd have to wait and see about that. But for now, his death was in his plans. But as he told the agent, nothing was etched in stone.
He was glad he had decided to take an alternate route out of Alexandria as he suspected the police and the FBI would take the direct route to the location and it simply wouldn't do for them to spot him as he was leaving. Traffic was not heavy leading out of Alexandria and heading towards Fairfax, Virginia, his precious cargo in the trunk of his car handcuffed, gagged, and asleep from the Phenobarbital. With a contented sigh, Armitage reached out a hand and switched on the radio for some music.
The black SUV pulled up outside the address Garcia had given minutes after four police squad cars did. Rossi, JJ, Reid and Morgan quickly exited the vehicle. They then proceeded to put on their Kevlar vests. They noticed one of the unformed officers, a Sergeant, also donning a vest, approaching. He and Rossi shook hands.
"Sergeant Wiener. We've been here less than five minutes and there's been no movement in the house at all. But we were advised to sit tight because you folks were en-route."
Rossi shook the officer's hand. "I'm Agent Rossi, this is Dr. Reid, and Agents Jareau and Morgan. The man in there is holding one of our agents as a hostage. We believe he may be the same man who killed five attorneys. We would appreciate any help you can give us."
"Just tell me what you need."
"Agent Morgan and I will come in through the front with two of your men. Reid and Agent Jareau along with two more of your men will go around back. Have your remaining men keep watch outside."
"You got it."
Rossi looked around at his team and then back at the uniformed officer. "Okay let's go." He and Morgan, followed by two officers wearing bullet-proof vests, waited until they heard from Reid that he and the others were in position in the back. Rossi then banged loudly on the door.
"Shane Cooper, FBI!" he said loudly. There was no answer. Standing aside, he looked at Morgan who in swift motion, kicked open the door splintering the wood and the agents and police, weapons pointed, poured inside.
"Clear," Rossi said glancing around the living room. A quick search of the rest of the house resulted with the same announcements from others until Morgan decided to take a look behind a door that looked like it belonged to a small closet. He yanked it open to see it led to a smaller room with only a table and chair.
"Rossi, in here! I found something." Morgan picked up the items sitting on the table. He was soon joined by Rossi, Reid and JJ while the officers waited in the living room.
"Hotch's credentials and his cell," the older agent said grimly taking the items from Morgan. "That proves he has Hotch and that he was here. But he's not here now." The older man let out a deep breath of frustration. "He said this was a stopping off point but where did he go from here?" He studied the scuff marks on the floor leading from the small room to the outer room. "Looks like somebody was dragged from this room into the outer room." While they were talking, Reid noticed a wastebasket in the corner of the small room. Pulling out a pair of latex gloves from his pocket he grabbed the wastebasket and reached inside, removing a syringe. He sniffed the end of the needle but there was no scent. He also noticed a pair of latex gloves.
"Check this out, guys," Reid said. "Looks like our UnSub may have drugged Hotch in order to move him from here and then threw the syringe away. He also threw away a pair of latex gloves perhaps not realizing their importance."
"Looks like our UnSub just made his first mistake," Rossi commented.
"I understand about the syringe, but if he didn't fire a gun, what importance are the gloves?" asked one of the officers, curious.
Rossi removed two evidence bags from his jacket and Reid dropped the syringe into one and the gloves into the other and sealed them both. "Latex gloves absorb perspiration from the skin," Reid explained. "With any luck, we might be able to lift a fingerprint from them which could tell us who he is."
Rossi handed the evidence bags to JJ. "Sergeant, have one of your officers accompany Agent Jareau back to your lab. We need these items analyzed as quickly as possible. JJ, once the results are known make sure they're forwarded to Quantico immediately. Then, get in touch with Garcia and see if she can work her magic on what's sent to her."
"Right away," the blond woman replied as she and one of the officers headed out of the building almost running into Prentiss who was coming inside.
"Find anything?" Emily asked Rossi as he was the first to spot the dark haired woman.
"Only Hotch's credentials and his cell showing he was here. But we did find an empty syringe and a pair of latex gloves in a waste basket. I sent JJ with them to have them analyzed. Hopefully we'll get something." He took a deep breath and then let it out. "What about the Brennaman house? Anything?"
"Nothing other than what we found before. The empty coffee cup is on it's way to the lab as well to check the contents found in the bottom of the cup. I asked them to put a rush on it. The house is now locked up tight." Looking the older agent directly, Emily's eyes then asked the question she couldn't bring herself to ask verbally.
"I believe Aaron's still alive. And until I have proof to the contrary, that's what I'm going to hold onto and so should you," Rossi said.
Prentiss sighed wearily and nodded quietly. "Other than Hotch's cell and credentials, is there anything showing where Cooper may have taken him?" She asked as she followed Rossi into the small room where Reid and Morgan were still looking around.
"Nothing so far," Morgan said. "And I doubt seriously if we're going to find anything else. Looks like he probably had Hotch secured to this chair while they were here."
"But why here?" Reid suddenly asked looking around. "What I mean is why bring Hotch to his own place and then practically lead us here? It makes no sense."
"What are you saying?" asked Prentiss. "That he wanted us to find this place?"
Rossi looked at Morgan and Reid with narrowed eyes. "It's a game with him. He wanted us to find this place. He said it was a stopping off place. He only brought Hotch here long enough to leave proof that he had him because he wanted us to find it."
Just then two uniformed officers walked in. "We checked out back," one of them said. "We found an empty garage with the door open. Whatever car was there is gone and no indication of which direction it went."
Rossi glanced at the lanky profiler. "Reid, take a look. You have fresh eyes."
"Right," Reid replied as he followed the two officers out the door and in the direction of the garage.
"So what do we do now?" asked Morgan.
Rossi let out a deep breath. "All we can do is wait for him to contact us."
Morgan, hands on hips, shook his head, annoyed. "You can't be serious man," he snapped. He held his arm straight out and pointed at nothing. "This bastard is out there somewhere with Hotch doing who knows what to him, and you want us to sit and wait for him to contact us!"
Rossi remained calm understanding the agent's outburst and where it was coming from. "I understand your frustration, Derek, but we have no choice. There's nothing here to indicate where he took Hotch. And as much as I hate to admit it, right now he's holding all the cards."
Hotch struggled to open his eyes; his lids were so heavy. His mind still felt cloudy and muddled, but he slowly became aware he was lying on something firm yet comfortable. He slowly turned his head sideways and discovered his head was lying on a pillow and he was on a bed. His head was pounding and he started to raise a hand to massage his temples and found his arms wouldn't move. He licked his dry lips glad that the duct tape was gone. He badly wanted a drink of water. Squeezing his eyes shut again he shook his head, and then opened them again. He noticed he was indeed lying in a hospital bed, its head ever so slightly elevated in an upright position. He then noticed why his body could not move.
His wrists were secured with leather cuffs that were attached to the bottom of the bed frame as were his legs secured with ankle cuffs. He noticed the cuffs were not of the locking kind, but were fastened with buckles. Also, there was a leather strap across his chest, also buckled, which restricted his being able to reach the buckles binding his wrists. He looked around the room and saw a night stand beside the bed on which sat a vase of artificial flowers on a rectangular shaped doily which hung off the top of the nightstand on both sides. On the opposite side of the bed was a wooden crate standing on one end. The walls were a dingy-looking off-white color and looked like they hadn't seen a fresh coat of paint in months if not years. There were two chairs in the room, one of which was beside the head of the bed. Aaron then noticed his suit jacket was draped over the back of the other chair which was in a far corner. Looking down at himself, he saw he was still wearing his clothes including the shirt with the ripped sleeve. It suddenly dawned on him that this kind of bed was the kind he had seen in hospitals and could only be sold or used by or on order of a physician; and the restraints required a physician's prescription. This information told the profiler that Armitage either had or worked in a health-care facility since he last saw him because from what he recalled, Armitage had never been employed in the field at any time up to and before his trial.
He pulled against the restraints with all his might but they wouldn't give an inch. He let his head fall back of the pillow. As he took in and let out a deep breath, he heard the door open and raised his head to see Armitage standing in the doorway grinning at him and holding a tray in both hands on which sat a glass of water and a bowl of something which smelled to Hotch like some kind of soup. It was then he realized just how hungry he was as he hadn't eaten in over twenty-four hours.
"You're finally awake, Aaron," said Armitage with a smile as he approached the bed, sat down on the chair and placed the tray on top of the crate. "I figured by now you'd be hungry and thirsty so I brought you lunch." He noticed the profiler glaring at him and ignored it. "I suggest you eat it because starving to death is an ugly and painful way to die." He placed a napkin just under Hotch's chin before picking up the bowl of soup, then dipped the spoon into the soup and held it out to the profiler. Aaron refused to open his mouth and continued staring at his captor.
"It's not poisoned if that's what you're thinking, Aaron. Look, I'll prove it." Armitage swallowed the spoonful of soup. "Ummm. Not bad if I say so myself. Now, I'd hardly poison myself. Besides, I want you nice and healthy when I punish you." He scooped another spoonful of soup and held it in front of the agent who this time allowed Armitage to feed it to him until the bowl was empty. He then held Hotch's head up a bit and allowed him to drink some of the cool water until he didn't want anymore. Armitage then laid the profiler's head back down, picked up the tray and got to his feet. Heading towards the door, he paused and look over. "I suggest you rest up, Aaron. You'll need all your strength tomorrow when you begin to pay for everything."
"You're sure?" asked Emily of the person she spoke with on her cell. "Okay. Thanks." Disconnecting the call, she sighed as she looked at the expectant faces of Rossi and Morgan. "That was the lab. The coffee cup had traces of Phenobarbital in it. The results are being forwarded to Garcia as we speak."
Morgan noticed the thoughtful expression on the elder agent's face. "What's on your mind, Rossi?"
"Phenobarbital has to be prescribed by a physician. It's a barbiturate and can't be bought over the counter. That means our UnSub is either in the medical profession himself and has easy access to the drug or has a doctor who writes him a prescription for it either for himself or someone else."
"That could be a huge undertaking checking out all the doctors in the state," Morgan remarked grimly.
"Maybe we can narrow it down somehow. Contact Garcia, have her run a check of all the doctors in Alexandria and the neighboring areas and then cross-reference it with all doctors who have written prescriptions for Phenobarbital in the last six months. We need a list of all the patients who've been prescribed the drug." As Morgan started to move away to make his call, Reid re-entered the room followed by one of the uniformed officers. The young profiler had something in his hand that smelled burned.
"Find anything?" Rossi asked hopefully.
"I'm not sure. There were signs someone was dragged into the garage by the scuff marks on the floor that ended where the car's trunk would be indicating whoever was dragged was then put into the trunk of the car before the driver left the premises." He held out the remnants of the burned paper; it was the remainder of a map. After donning a pair of latex gloves, Rossi took it from Reid.
"Where'd you find this?" he asked while studying what there was of it.
"It was in a large drum with some other things that had been set on fire obviously. But I also noticed a spilled cup of coffee that had been tossed on top which is probably why this didn't burn completely," Reid explained. "The town of Alexandria is circled in red along with the town of Fairfax, Virginia. That could be where he took Hotch."
Morgan looked at Rossi. "Fairfax is only seventeen miles from here."
Rossi looked at the other agents. "And that's where we're going. But first we'll head back to Quantico." He saw the protests about to start and held up a hand. "This UnSub has been following everything we do since we've been in Alexandria. The one place he can't follow us is inside the BAU office. We need to get ahead of this guy for Hotch's sake. Emily, contact JJ and tell her we're heading back to Quantico and to come there as soon as she can. We have plans to make."