Chapter 13-Pain, Torture, and the Search Continues
David Rossi stood outside the door of the office of Section Chief Erin Strauss and took a deep breath. He really didn't want to tell the woman anything at all, considering how she felt about his friend, but as the Section Chief, she had a right to know. He swallowed hard and then knocked on the door.
"Come in," a voice said from the opposite side of the door.
Gripping the doorknob, Rossi turned it and opened the door. Walking inside, he saw Strauss seated behind her desk signing some paperwork and didn't look up right away. Rossi closed the door and waited.
Putting down her pen Strauss looked up and removed her reading glasses. She clasped her hands placing them on top of the remaining paperwork and stared questioningly at Rossi.
"Can I help you Agent Rossi?" she asked in her usually chilly tone as if she resented having what she was doing being interrupted.
"May I sit down?" Rossi asked. He did so when Strauss motioned toward the chair facing her desk. Once seated, the older agent put his hands on his knees. "There's something you need to know."
"And what is that?"
"I know you're aware Agent Hotchner's team is investigating the murder of five attorneys in Alexandria, Virginia by a serial killer."
"I'm aware of that. But I don't understand…"
"It turns out Agent Hotchner was the intended target all along and now he's been abducted by the UnSub. We, meaning the team, have received a phone call from the UnSub promising that Agent Hotchner will die when he's ready to kill him. But he called us and tortured him over the phone for us to hear."
If Strauss was upset by this news she didn't show it. Leaning back in her plush leather chair, she moved her clasped hands into her lap. Her eyes hardened as she glared at Rossi. "Why wasn't I informed of this earlier, agent?"
"You're being told about it now, Erin," Rossi said matter-of-factly.
"Tell me everything from the beginning."
An hour later, Rossi had told Strauss everything while omitting the fact that Hotch had withheld and hid the first letter he had received.
"So what you're telling me is that this man is blaming Agent Hotchner for doing his job when he was a prosecutor."
"Yes."
"What have you found out so far?" she asked crossing her legs while brushing a loose strand of blond hair from her face.
"We believe whoever sent these letters to Hotch was able to slip the first one into the mail cart here in the building and I have someone looking into that as well as talking to the person who delivered the mail that day. I have Agent Morgan talking to the attorney who's brother Hotch prosecuted and convicted as well as Agents Reid and Garcia checking into several things on the computer."
Strauss nodded as she looked thoughtful. "I know you're aware that Agent Hotchner could very well be dead even as we speak?"
This time it was Rossi's turn to nod. "I know that, Erin. But I believe he's still alive. I have to believe he is." He leaned forward. "To believe anything other than that would be too horrible to imagine."
Strauss remained cool as she put her glasses back on. Straightening up in her chair she picked up her pen and resumed going over her paperwork silently indicating to Rossi he was being dismissed. "Keep me informed," she said casually.
Rossi slowly got to his feet and headed toward the door. Opening it, he paused in the doorway and looked back. "I don't know how you do it, Erin," he remarked.
Strauss looked up in puzzlement. "How I do what, Agent Rossi?"
"Do you dislike Agent Hotchner so much that you can't even show concern for what he might be going through at the hands of this UnSub? That if something goes wrong what that'll do to his wife and son? Are you that unfeeling?"
Strauss's eyes hardened as her eyes narrowed. She removed her glasses again. "Agent Rossi, I am a professional. In this job I can't afford to allow emotion to take over. Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to do my job. You and your team would do well to remember that." She returned to her paperwork inferring the conversation, in her opinion, was over.
Rossi shook his head just a bit and chuckled. "I suppose that's the difference between us, Erin. See, we can't help but show emotion when horrible things happen, especially to one of our own. It makes and keeps us human. But being human doesn't keep us from still doing our job and being professional." He didn't wait for Strauss to reply before he turned and walked out, pulling the door closed behind him.
Armitage walked into the room and noticed Aaron Hotchner glaring at him despite his suffering. It was then the agent saw the gun in his captor's hand. He wondered if this would be it; his final few minutes of life. He swallowed the lump in his throat realizing he would never get the chance to see Jack and Haley again.
Standing beside the bed, the man looked down at the agent with a smirk on his face. He noticed Hotchner's eyes never straying from the weapon in his hand. He held up the gun.
"I thought we'd play a game, Aaron. Perhaps you've heard of it? Russian Roulette?"
"Is that how I'm going to die, Armitage? By you playing Russian Roulette? Is this how you're going to get your jollies by having me wonder which chamber will contain the bullet that will end my life?" He smirked. "I thought you'd be more creative than that."
"Death is death no matter how it occurs," the man said, amused. "And Russian Roulette just adds intrigue to it somewhat. However, I decided to change this version of how it's played. See, this version differs slightly from the regular one as anybody can put a gun to someone's head." Reaching down, Armitage again unzipped Hotchner's trousers and spread apart the two halves of his pants exposing his groin area. "No, Aaron. This version is vastly different. Putting a bullet in your brain will cause instant death and that's no fun. See, I'm going to aim this weapon at your groin area and keep pulling the trigger until I come to the one with the live cartridge in it." He saw the agent's terror-filled eyes despite Hotch's best attempt to hide it. "Of course the pain will be unbearable and you'll probably bleed to death quickly and perhaps even go into shock before that. But should you somehow survive, you'll be of no physical use to that pretty little wife of yours. You won't have anything physically to offer her. And if I may be so blunt, you'll be nothing more than a eunuch. She'll have to be satisfied by someone else who has working equipment. " He massaged his chin. "But there's something else I wish I could remember." He shrugged. "Oh well, it'll come to me eventually."
That said, he pointed the mouth of the muzzle at Hotch's groin while Hotch turned his head, squeezing his eyes tightly shut, hoping the end would be quick. He opened his eyes when only a click was heard.
"Huh, empty. Let's try this one shall we?" Again Armitage squeezed the trigger and again there was a click. He repeated the motion until he got to the last chamber. "Well, Aaron, looks like this is the one that'll do the job." He pressed the mouth of the muzzle right against Hotch's groin area and was delighted to see the agent close his eyes and his breath quicken. He squeezed the trigger and was surprised to hear another click; the last chamber was empty.
Opening his eyes, Hotch found himself sweating, a lump in his throat, and a fear in his belly that made him nauseous. He watched with a growing anger as Armitage examined his weapon.
"Now I remember what it was I forget. I didn't put any bullets in the gun. How do you like that? I guess this is your lucky day, Aaron. You get to keep your manhood for another day." To emphasize his point, Armitage placed a hand on Hotch's groin and gave the agent's genitals a gentle squeeze. He felt the agent's body tense at his touch.
"Get you're fucking hands off of me!" Hotch hissed. "If you're going to kill me just do it and get it over with, and stop with all these games." He knew he was pushing things with his outburst but he didn't care right now. His anger was clouding his judgment.
"You are spirited, I'll give you that, Aaron," Armitage kept his voice calm. Then, removing his hand, he zipped up Hotch's trousers. He was enjoying watching the agent losing control. It fit in perfectly with his plans. Hotchner losing control was only the first step.
"You're a sick, twisted bastard," Hotch continued. This remark brought pain as he was struck with the weapon on the side of his face with the 'X' carved on his cheek causing it to bleed again. Then, he was struck on the opposite cheek. He saw stars burst in front of his eyes as a haze formed.
"You need to learn some manners, Aaron. Name calling will get you nowhere."
He faintly heard the words being spoken before he felt a searing pain in his abs and continue across his stomach. He realized he'd been cut again. That was when he passed out from the pain.
Reid sat in a chair beside Garcia who sat behind her computer screen; he was studying the information on the screen as her fingers typed. Both of their minds thinking of their Unit Chief and determined to find him and bring him home alive. So far they had been able to eliminate nine names from the list of twenty-five only because those eliminated prescribed Phenobarbital for female patients and they knew they were searching for a man. Another four were eliminated because those patients who had been prescribed the drug were now deceased, and another three because those patients had nobody who had a criminal history nor anybody connected to them who had one. That left nine doctors still to be checked. Even a check of Jason Armitage had come up with nothing as neither he or his wife had been prescribed any medications; a check of Shane and Brandon Cooper showed only a prescription for blood pressure meds for Brandon.
The young profiler crossed his long legs, folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, studying the names on the screen. He was still thinking about the names on the list when Garcia suddenly stopped typing and looked tentatively at the genius.
"Reid…" she began softly.
The young profiler hearing his name called awoke from his deep concentration and looked at his friend knowing Garcia never addressed him in a serious voice unless something was wrong. He knew like he and his fellow agents, she was just as afraid for their boss. What was Hotch suffering? What condition was he in? And was he even alive? Reid didn't know what he would do if they couldn't or didn't get to him in time. Hell, what would the team do? No, I can't think like that! We will find him before it's too late. We will. We have to.
"What is it?" he asked the computer tech in a strained voice brushing a strand of his long brown hair out of his eyes.
Garcia, head bowed, bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling. "Do you think Hotch is still alive?" Her lower lip began to tremble as her eyes misted as she now looked at Reid directly. Thrown by her question momentarily Reid didn't answer, and it was this moment of non response that Garcia mistakenly thought meant the young profiler didn't believe Hotch was alive. Garcia lost it and began to cry. "Oh God," she whispered, her voice breaking and tears falling. She covered her mouth with one hand.
Reid suddenly became aware that his moment of silence had been misinterpreted by the usually bubbly computer tech. Moving his chair closer, he reached out to grab Garcia's hand but stopped himself not sure how or if he should proceed. Swallowing hard, he instead nervously clasped his hands in his lap, ran his tongue over his lips, and leaned forward. "Garcia, look at me," he said gently. He smiled when Penelope turned her tear-streaked face towards him.
"I truly believe he is," Reid responded. "And we will find him. You have to have faith. Isn't that what you're always telling me?"
"I know. But…"
"Hey," Reid said maintaining his faint smile. "It's going to be okay. We'll find Hotch and bring him home. Do you believe me, Garcia?"
She allowed a smile on her face. "Yeah, I do. You're my junior G-man. You wouldn't lie to the powerful all-knowing Penelope Garcia."
Reid smiled. "Okay. Then let's get back to narrowing down this list."
Wiping her eyes with her ring-laden fingers, Garcia turned back to her computers. "Right. Let's find that doctor and bring our boss man home."
Morgan got off the elevator on the floor for Bradford and Hordford, opened the door and walked inside. He noticed the same receptionist, Roslyn Shephard, seated at the desk typing and remembered her from when he, Hotch and Rossi were there a few days ago. The woman looked up at the FBI agent, annoyed, recognizing him from the last time. Morgan held up is credentials for her to see.
"I'm SSA Derek Morgan with the FBI here to see Brandon Cooper." He ignored her scowl as she picked up her receiver, pressing two buttons.
"Mr. Cooper, there's an FBI agent here to see you, sir. Yes, sir." Hanging up, she pursed her lips and stared at Morgan with disdain. "Mr. Cooper can see you for a few minutes, Agent Morgan. He has an appointment with a client who should be here in fifteen minutes. I assume you remember where his office is."
"Yes I do. Thank you." Morgan put his credentials away as he quickly walked down the hall and knocked on the door of Cooper's office. He opened it when he was given permission to enter. He found Cooper seated behind his desk, leaning back in his chair with his hands clasped in his lap, a smirk on his face.
"Agent Morgan, didn't think I'd see you again so soon." He pretended to look past Morgan. Where's Agent Hotchner?"
"Why don't you tell me, Cooper," Morgan replied. "Somebody abducted him a few days ago."
Cooper's eyes widened. "Really," he said sweetly. "My heart bleeds," he added sarcastically. "Do you know who did it?"
"We suspect either you and your brother working together along with Jason Armitage, or your brother alone with Armitage, had something to do with his disappearance. Both of you have made no secret of how much you both hate Agent Hotchner. So why don't you save us all some time and tell me where your brother is and where he's holding him."
"Can't help you, agent. But if you're expecting any sympathy from me you've come to the wrong place. And I don't know who this Jason Armitage is. Never heard of him. Also, I'm not sorry Aaron Hotchner's missing. Couldn't happen to a nicer guy. But if you find out who did it can you let me know? I want to buy him or her a case of champagne."
It took all of Morgan's inner strength to keep from lunging at Cooper and wrapping his hands around the man's throat. He'd like nothing better than to wipe that smug, arrogant smirk off his face.
"I'm warning you, Cooper, when we find Agent Hotchner, and discover he's being held by your brother either with or without Armitage's help, and you knew about it, I'm gonna enjoy putting the cuffs on you and that slime ball brother of yours when we find him," Morgan explained with a touch of sarcasm himself. He knew he had made his point when he saw Cooper's face darken and his eyes narrow as he sat up in his chair glaring at the agent as he did so.
"Don't talk about my brother that way," the lawyer hissed. "I have no idea where he is and even if I did I wouldn't tell you. And I already told you I never heard of this Armitage. And as far as your missing agent, I couldn't care less. And neither I or my brother had anything to do with his disappearance. But I'm not surprised somebody decided to teach him a lesson. I hope you don't find who it is because I'd hate to see another person suffer because of Aaron Hotchner."
Morgan slammed his fist onto the desk and leaned forward. "Look you sick son-of-a-bitch. Right now you and your brother are suspects in the murder of five lawyers and the kidnapping of a federal agent. So don't you take a holier-than-thou attitude with me because I'm only minutes away from hauling your ass to jail. So I suggest you tell me right now where Agent Hotchner is because if anything happens to him, I promise you you'll regret it. You and your crazy brother. So, I also suggest you tell me what I want to know and right now."
Cooper's face softened as a look of amusement appeared. "Don't threaten me, agent. You'll learn I don't take kindly to threats. And as far as Agent Hotchner is concerned, I don't care one way or the other whether you ever find him nor whether you find him alive. Now that may sound callous and uncaring to you, but it's how I feel." He saw Morgan straighten up and clench his fists as his arms hung loosely at his sides. He checked his watch. "Now I suggest you leave. I have a client coming in that I must meet with, so you'll have to let yourself out. Good day, Agent Morgan."
Struggling to control himself, Morgan abruptly turned and walked out of Cooper's office, slamming the door behind him so loudly that the man who Morgan assumed was Cooper's client who sat outside across the passage to the lawyer's office nearly jumped out of the chair. He then stormed out of the office and punched the down button for the elevator. Shaking his head, Morgan rubbed the back of his neck. He was totally frustrated and angry, and knew he had let Cooper get to him. But the man's smug and arrogant attitude concerning Hotch's disappearance was just too much and Morgan knew he would of lost it if he hadn't left when he did. But in the end it really didn't matter because he now knew without a doubt that Brandon Cooper was not the UnSub; but that still left his brother Shane.
Hotch swallowed the growing lump in his throat. His body hurt just about everywhere. The game Armitage played with the gun had frightened him more than he had realized as he actually believed he was about to die the most painful way possible, only to discover it had all been a sick joke was more than he could take right now. He let out a deep breath.
Why is this happening to me? he asked himself. How could someone do this to someone who was doing their job? I don't deserve this. Nobody does. There has to be some way. Some way to get away. Haley. Jack. I love you both; A small smile appeared as he thought of his son and his beautiful wife. I need to survive for them.
Hotch had no idea how long it would be until Armitage came back for another round of torture, but Hotch knew when he did it wouldn't be pleasant. Hell, he felt that if Armitage was to release him right now, he didn't have the strength to overpower him. He was beginning to wonder if his team would be able to find him at this point, and more importantly, what would they find if and when they did locate him? Would he be a living disfigured shell of what he used to be? Or would he be a disfigured, mutilated corpse? Neither image was appealing to him, but there it was. Despite his present situation, Hotch sighed wearily. How will Jack react seeing my face like it is? Will he be terrified and never want to come near me again? And what about Haley? Will she even be able to look at me much less touch me again, or will my appearance disgust or frighten her so much she won't be able to?
His thoughts were interrupted at the sound of footsteps outside his door and tensed at what twisted thing Armitage would have in store for him. He was sure he wouldn't like it. He caught his breath as the door opened and the man in question stood in the doorway; but he was holding a tray on which sat a bowl of soup and a glass of water. He heard his stomach rumble and realized he was hungry and thirsty.
Sitting the tray on the crate as he did previously, Armitage sat down in the chair and gently placed a napkin across Hotch's chest. Then, he picked up the bowl and dipped the spoon into it. He held the spoon out to the agent, but noticed Hotch hesitate eating any of it. "I suggest you eat it, Aaron because if you should refuse, I will not feed you again. And starvation is such an ugly way to die. The choice is yours."
Hotch licked his dry lips. "Is that your plan?" His throat was so dry it hurt to talk. "Keep me well fed so I won't die on you before time?"
"Partly," the man replied. "But also because I want to keep you as healthy as possible for as long as possible so I can torture you longer."
Up to this moment Hotch had convinced himself it would be better to die than to allow himself to be fed and kept alive just so he could supply amusement for Armitage by allowing him more time to torture him. But the pangs of hunger were too great, the smell of the soup too wonderful to ignore, and he knew if he was going to find a way out of here he would need his strength. Lifting his head he allowed himself to partake of the soup which was delicious he had to admit. He ate greedily and was disappointed when the bowl was empty. Placing the now empty bowl on the tray, Armitage picked up the glass of water and allowed Hotch to drink his fill of the cool liquid.
"Now, Aaron, I assume you need to use the bathroom again?" Armitage saw the agent nod. "Good. I will release one of the cuffs, so you can free yourself and go. But let me remind you of something." He reached into his pocket and removed the remote control.
Hotch didn't react because of the pain he felt from the knife wounds, he had momentarily forgot about the stun belt, but the remote brought the memory back quickly. He nodded. Smiling, Armitage stood up and reaching down, unbuckled one of the straps holding his wrists as well as the strap across his chest. Then he stood out of reach with the remote in his hand watching the agent undo the remaining buckles.
Hotch's entire body was sore and each movement stiff, but he was able to move his legs off the edge of his bed and put his feet on the floor. With his eyes on Armitage, Hotch used his hands to push himself up off the bed, and staggered into the bathroom where, after taking care of the call of nature, he took a few minutes to look in the mirror of the medicine cabinet and was horrified at what he saw. For a minute or two he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head before opening them again and studying his reflection.
His face had cuts on each side that still oozed blood, there were blackish purple bruises forming, and he partially saw the cuts and winced seeing the angry red line on his chest. He looked like a disfigured freak. If all of this was to humiliate him, Hotch figured his captor had done a good job so far. He looked down and fingered the stab wound in his left ab area and winced at the touch and noticed a smear of blood on his fingertip. He hung his head and covered his eyes with a hand.
"How do you like my handiwork, Aaron?" Armitage asked cheerily. "It may not be original, but I think it makes a point. Don't you agree?"
Hotch could feel his anger rising and fought hard to control himself. He was aware he still wore the stun belt and was not looking forward to receiving another 50,000 volts. Flushing the toilet, he washed his hands and dried them before turning to leave the bathroom. His eyes glared at his captor as he started walking toward the bed. Suddenly and without warning, he cried out in pain and dropped to his knees, clutching his lower back as 50,000 volts of electricity shot through his body before finally falling over onto his side, moaning.
Chuckling, Armitage warily approached the stricken agent and knelt down at his head, his finger on the button of the remote. "I just wanted you to remember I have complete control over you, Aaron. I can do anything to you I want." He pressed the button again causing Hotch to squeeze his eyes shut and grit his teeth after hissing in pain. Armitage leaned closer and whispered directly into Hotchner's ear. "Anything I want to."