Hi everyone. Hope everyone had a nice week. Thanks to all who continue to review. So apprieciated. Now I will be quiet and let you read. Enjoy.
"The Unicorn," Emily whispered.
Reinvigorated, Emily grabbed the laptop and scrolled through Doyle's file until she found the list of his known associates. There listed under IRA members was one Dermot O'Bannion, deceased. Pleased that she hadn't imagined the man, Emily googled the name and the Unicorn and got quite a few hits. Adding Washington D.C. to the mix she was able to narrow it down to two. One was the official website for the pub and the other an obituary.
Intrigued, she clicked on the obituary and learned that Dermot O'Bannion had died five months ago. Coincidence? She thought not. O'Bannion was probably one of the men the SWAT team had taken out at the warehouse that night. She turned her attention to the Unicorn and found that it was still open under the management of his son, Seamus.
Taking note of the pub's location, Emily shut down the laptop. Now she had a legitimate lead. She would start her search for Doyle at the Unicorn and fan out from there. Someone had had to seen him. One thing Emily knew for certain about Doyle was his love for pubs. But first, before she ventured into possibly dangerous territory, she needed a gun.
Emily slowly made her way through Washington D.C.'s red light district. Though it was the middle of the day, there were quite a few streetwalkers out plying their trade. She wasn't here to pick up a date but to score some information. If you approached a hooker in a certain way you could learn quite a bit, like for example, where you could pick up a gun, no questions asked.
Emily spotted a possible source. Up ahead leaning against the side of a building was an African American hooker. She was smoking a cigarette and judging from the amount of heavy makeup, she was trying to conceal a black eye that she had probably gotten from her pimp. As she casually walked by the escort, Emily pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Slipping one out she patted her pockets for the lighter.
"Damn," she swore right in front of the woman who glanced at her.
"Something wrong, Sweet Cheeks?"
"Yeah. Lost my lighter. You got a light for a cigarette?" Emily asked hopefully.
"Sure." The escort rummaged through her purse and pulled out a cheap Bic. "Here." She handed it to Emily.
"Thanks." Transferring it to her injured hand, she struggled to flick on the flame. This part was not an act. The bulky bandage made it difficult to wrap her fingers around small objects.
After watching several attempts fail, she plucked the lighter from Emily's hand. "Let me." She flicked it on and lit the cigarette.
Emily took a long drag and exhaled the smoke slowly. "Thanks again. I really needed this. My nerves are on edge."
"No problem." She eyed the injured hand just like Emily hoped she would. "What happened to your hand?"
Emily held it up. "My crazy boyfriend accused me of stealing money from his sock drawer so he slammed my hand in it. Teaching me a lesson he said," she snorted.
"Did you?"
"Hell, no," she said indignantly. "He's always yelling and accusing me of stuff I didn't do. When I try to tell him I didn't he hits me. Usually he hits me where it doesn't show but this time he was really pissed."
She nodded. "I can relate. Did you try to leave his sorry ass?"
Emily grimaced. "Several times but he always finds me and beats me so bad I can't walk for a week. I don't know what to do. I'm afraid that one day he'll go too far and kill me."
"Sweet Cheeks," the woman said, laying a hand on Emily's shoulder. "You need some protection."
"Protection?"
"Yeah. A piece. A gun."
"Oh." Emily let her eyes grow wide. "I wouldn't even know where to get one. Do you?"
The hooker took several drags on her cigarette as she thought it over. "I do." She pointed in the opposite direction that Emily had come from. "Go down four blocks then turn right on Claque. Continue on for another two blocks and you'll see Sid's Pawn and Go on the left side of the street. You can't miss it."
She pulled a card out of her purse and handed it to Emily. "Ask for Bud and give him this. Tell him Breauna sent you. He'll take real good care of you."
Emily smiled. "Thanks. I really appreciate this."
Breauna grinned wickedly. "When you get the gun make sure you aim for his little ones. He will then be singing to a different tune."
The escort's directions were right on the mark. Emily stood across the street studying Sid's Pawn and Go. It was a typical pawnshop, located on the bottom floor of a building that looked like it was ready to buckle under from its own weight. The storefront was dirty and in desperate need of a coat of paint. A heavy grate of metal bars protected the window, which looked like it hadn't been washed in twenty years.
Taking a calming breath, Emily assumed her battered woman persona, scurried across the street and hesitantly entered the pawnshop. She glanced around cautiously as she made her way to over to the counter where a heavyset man with a crew cut and chewing on toothpick leaned.
"Help you?"
"Are you Bud?'
He nodded.
"A mutual friend of ours said I might be able to get a piece here." She pulled out the card and set it on the counter. "Breauna sent me."
The man stared at her for a moment, turning the toothpick in his mouth, contemplating whether or not to trust her. Slowly he looked away and let his eyes sweep across the room to make sure the store was as empty as it appeared to be. Satisfied that no one would overhear them, he pushed away from the counter he leaned against and slid open the glass door. He retrieved a compact pistol and set it on top of the counter.
"Glock 26," he spoke around the toothpick, "big enough caliber to do its job, but small enough to keep hidden."
Emily eyed the pistol and nodded without moving to touch it. She knew the exact specs of the weapon, but maintained the notion of naivety. Bud shook his head at her uncertainty and wrapped his large hand around its small frame, turning it over for her to see. He ejected the empty magazine, showed it to her and ran it back into place.
"Bullets go in there," he instructed, "pull the slide back to load it, line up the front dot between the rear dots and pull the trigger. Simple as that."
He set the gun in her hand and she fought the urge to smile at the familiar weight in her palm. She held it awkwardly, pointing it toward the floor and put on a show of trying to line up the sights. Bud laughed and she set the gun back on the counter.
"Doesn't have a safety on it, so careful not to shoot yourself," he rasped.
"How much?" she mirrored his earlier action in looking over the room for secrecy.
"I hate to see a woman such as yourself in a world of hurt," he pulled the wet toothpick from his lips, "and since you're a friend of Breauna, six hundred and I'll throw in a box."
He pulled a box of nine-millimeter bullets from under the counter and set them next to the gun. Emily frowned down at the hardware and back up to Bud.
"Six hundred seems a little steep."
"No serial numbers, and can't be traced back should things go south," he stuck the pick back between his teeth and eyed her, "that's what I got, take it or leave it."
Emily thought for a moment and turned away from him to conceal the wad of cash she pulled from the jacket pocket. She quickly stripped the bills from the stack and tucked the rest deeply into her pocket and turned back to him.
"I'll take it," she set the cash on the counter.
He smiled and slid the gun and ammo across the counter to her, "Pleasure doing business with you."
Emily nodded, tucked the gun and ammo in her jacket pocket and left. Outside on the curve she smiled and wrapped her fingers around the butt of the gun. For the last couple of days she felt that she missing a vital piece of her but not now. She was complete. It was time to go hunting.
Finding the Unicorn was a heck of a lot easier than finding the gun. Emily briefly entertained the thought of going inside and asking around but she just as quickly nixed the idea. With her luck Doyle would be inside waiting or someone would blab that a woman was looking for him. Better to restrict her inquiries to the local transients hanging around. People preferred to view the homeless as invisible not realizing how observant they actually are. A little cash passed their way can often loosen a lot of tongues.
Emily decided to start in the immediate area around the pub and was rewarded with several positive hits on the photo of Doyle. She was elated that her hunch had panned out but also disappointed that no knew which direction he had come from. The only thing they agreed on was that he hadn't come by car. That meant he was within walking distance of the pub or he had parked on some side street. Randomly choosing a direction, Emily slowly made her way down the street talking to every homeless person she came across. After five blocks the trail went cold so she retraced her steps to the Unicorn and started in the other direction.
After many futile hours of searching Emily was ready to call it a night. Darkness had fallen and she was no closer in locating Doyle than when she had started. Emily was bone tired. Her back, knees and feet ached from all the walking she had done today. Her head pounded and her stomach growled from the lack of food. With a sigh of defeat, Emily reluctantly decided to head back to the motel and get some sleep. Tomorrow she would return and start again.
With heavy feet, she headed for the nearest subway station. As she trudged along, she spotted a homeless woman hunkered down outside an all night convenient store.
"Excuse me," Emily said as she walked up to her. The woman eyed her warily while pulling her shopping cart closer. Emily held out the picture. "I was wondering if you have seen this man around lately?"
The woman squinted. "Maybe I have. Maybe I haven't."
Emily smiled. "Will this help?" She slid two twenties over the photo.
The money was snatched up and disappeared inside the oversize coat. "I have."
"Where at?"
The woman scrunched up her face in deep concentration. "I can't rightly remember. Mind is a little fuzzy." Emily pulled out another twenty.
"Now I remember," she said brightly, giving Emily a toothless grin. She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "Right there this morning."
"This morning?" Emily repeated, making sure she had heard the homeless woman correctly.
"Yup. I was picking up my morning energy drink." She patted the paper bag next to her that Emily knew contained booze. "He was buying a box of cereal, some crayons and a pad of paper."
Emily blinked in surprise at the odd shopping list. "Did you see where he went?"
"Well," the woman hedged. Another twenty magically appeared. "Right over there." She pointed across the street.
Emily turned. Directly across from her was an entrance to what appeared to be a large abandoned industrial park.
"Thank you for your help," Emily said and gave her another twenty. The woman took it and saluted.
Emily crossed the street and cautiously made her way up the drive. Pausing just inside of the entrance, she peered into the darkness. She could just barely make out the shapes of the nearest buildings. She had no idea how large the park was and trying to search it at night with without a light was ill advised and dangerous. Who knew how many hidden hazards lurked out there in the dark. Better to wait until morning but that didn't mean she was leaving. He was finally within her grasp. No way was she going to let Doyle slip through her fingers while she slept at the motel.
She was staying put even if it meant she had to sit outside all night. Maybe she would be lucky to find some form of shelter that would protect from her from the elements. Emily poked around until she found a spot that offered an unobstructed view of the industrial park's entrance. Tucking herself in an alcove, she pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them and waited for the sunrise.
Morning found Emily sitting in the same position, eyes still intently focused on the entrance. Nothing had passed by all night. Not a feral cat, a stray dog or a rat. The industrial park seemed to be devoid of all life. Emily remained hidden for another hour on the off chance that Doyle might surface with the sun. He was a no show.
"Time to get moving," she told herself and attempted to stand.
Her entire body protested. Her back refused to straighten and when she tried to stretch out her legs they cramped up. Grimacing against the pain she spent the next couple of minutes massaging her legs to restore circulation. Once the feeling in her legs returned she tried again to stand. Finding no handholds above her to help pull herself up, Emily had to settle with planting her left hand on the ground and pushing up. She clumsily made it to her feet, the twisting motion pulling on the almost healed stab wound.
"I'm getting too old for all night stakeouts," she muttered gently rubbing the still tender scar.
Her first few steps were wobbly but by the time she reached the other side of the street her gait had smoothed out as the tight muscles loosen. At the entrance she stood and took stock of the situation. In the daylight the abandoned industrial park was much larger than she had imagined.
"There must be at least twenty buildings." She gazed around forlornly. "It would take over a day to completely search every one and I don't have that much time to waste. I'll have to find a faster way."
In the end Emily settle on a quick reconnoiter. She would check the perimeters of each building for any signs of forced entry or human inhabitation. Unfortunately she found evidence of both around the majority of the buildings leading her to believe this site was the primary residence of the local transient population. This fact would have made this place more appealing to Doyle.
Turning the corner of building fourteen, Emily stumbled upon a dark blue ten year old Honda Accord hidden behind a line of overflowing dumpsters. Pulling out the Glock she quietly crept up on the car keeping to its' blind spots. Keeping low, she pushed down on the trunk to make sure it was latched and then moved up to peek into the back and front of the car. Finding it empty she placed a hand on the hood. Cold so it hadn't been driven in the last couple of hours and judging from the thin coat of dirt covering it the car hadn't been parked here longer than a day or two.
Keeping a firm grip on the gun, she bent to study the ground beneath the driver side door. Emily was hoping to find a set of footprints that would indicate which direction the owner of the car had headed and ultimately the building he had entered. Years of neglect had left detritus scattered over every surface. Broken glass, leaves, trash and pieces of concrete made it impossible to find the trail. Frustrated she leaned against the car to think.
Doyle had to be in one of three buildings facing this spot. She was confident he was but which one? Of course she could explore each one but that was an iffy proposition. She didn't have any backup and no idea how many men Doyle might have with him. Though this time she had a nagging suspicion it wouldn't be as many as before, one maybe two or three at the most. She just couldn't take the risk of being wrong. Instead of her going in, she needed Doyle to come out. What she needed, Emily decided, was a diversion.
Hotch sat at his desk gazing at the photo in his hand. Jack grinned back at him proudly decked out in his red soccer uniform, one foot propped on the ball..
"Please tell me you didn't spend the whole night here?"
He pivoted in his chair to find Rossi leaning against the doorjamb. Last night, overriding everyone's protests, Hotch had sent the team home to get some legitimate sleep. He had pointed out that they had been here over twenty-four hours and Strauss would grow suspicious if they remained much longer. Grudgingly they agreed, scooped up their go bags and headed home.
"I didn't. But I couldn't go home to an empty apartment."
Rossi moved to one of the visitor chairs. "So where did you go?"
"To Jessica's. In all the confusion, from Jack's kidnapping to Emily's sudden reappearance, I had completely forgotten about her." Hotch admitted.
"And how did she like being left out of the loop?"
Hotch rubbed the back of his neck ruefully. "Not well. She reamed me up one side and down the other, which I deserved. She then burst into tears. We spent the next several hours sitting quietly on the couch before she said she was going to go lie down. Before she left she threatened to hang me from the nearest tree if I didn't keep her informed."
Rossi smiled. "You believe her?"
"Absolutely. One thing she and Haley had in common was their quick temper. I've been scorched many a time. After I left, I walked around for a bit to clear my head and then came back here."
"Did you get any sleep?"
"A little. I'll be able to sleep once I know that Jack is safe and in his own bed."
"No argument from me." Rossi pushed himself to his feet. "I'm going to get myself some coffee. Want a cup?"
Before he could answer, the phone rang. He nodded as he picked up the receiver. "Hotchner."
"I think I know where Doyle is hiding."
Hotch made a waving motion at Dave drawing him back into the office. "Emily?" he whispered.
Hotch nodded and hit the speaker button. "Prentiss, where are you?"
Both men heard her hesitate. There was a small sigh. "I'm at the North Ridge Industrial Park and before you volunteer to send in the troops I said I think I know. I'm not positive. I haven't seen him."
"I can still send in the SWAT team and they can search the buildings," he offered.
"It's an awfully big park. All those people swarming around would tip him off. We can't afford that."
Hotch and Dave looked at each other. "What do you suggest?"
"I have it narrowed down to three buildings, numbers 12,14 and 16. What I need is a diversion to draw him out. Doyle has to have someone watching you guys."
"We have already come to that conclusion."
Emily paused, thinking furiously. "If the team were to rush out…"
"The flunkie would call Doyle and he would come out to see what the team is up to." Hotch finished for her.
"Exactly."
"Prentiss, how much time do you need?"
"Give me a half hour to find a spot to watch from before you send the team out."
"Okay."
"Hotch, I'll call you the moment I see any activity." Emily hesitated again. "If you don't hear from me in an hour, send in the cavalry. I'm probably in deep shit."
"So we are the decoy?" Dave asked after Emily had hung up.
"It would appear so."
"How should we handle it?"
"We'll keep it simple. JJ and I will remain here. You take Morgan and Reid and make the biggest scene you can. That should attract the attention of Doyle's man."
"Got it," Rossi said. "Anywhere in particular?"
Hotch shrugged. "Anywhere in the opposite direction of Declan. Just lead them on a long wild goose chase."
"I'm on it." Dave moved to the bullpen railing. "Morgan, Reid. We're going on a little field trip."
"Sweet!" Reid's eyes lit up in delight. "Where to?"
"Chillum, Maryland," Rossi answered.
Morgan frowned. "What's in Chillum?"
Dave smiled. "I haven't the foggiest idea. But we'll soon find out."
"If you don't hear from me in an hour, send in the cavalry. I'm probably in deep shit," Emily said and flipped the phone shut.
Immediately she started to search for a place to hide. Sweeping her gaze over the area her eyes settled on the fire escape for building nine. The northeast corner of the building offered an unimpeded view of the entrances of the three buildings she had targeted. Perfect.
Trotting over Emily looked up at the ladder and then down at the ground hoping to find some tool she could use to pull it down. She found nothing of help. Eyeballing the distance between her outstretched hand and the lower rung, she concluded she could make the jump.
"This is going to hurt," she muttered, knowing the scar tissue was not going to like the stretching motion.
Bending her knees, Emily took a deep breath, swung her arms upward, and leaped as high as she could. Her left hand hit the rung and she grabbed it, letting her weight pull the ladder down. As predicted the scar protested the movement and complained for the entire trip up the fire escape. Breathing heavy from the exertion, Emily settled into the northeast corner of the roof using the waist high ledge for concealment. From her perch she could easily see each door and from the ground she was invisible. Emily placed the gun and phone on the ledge and checked her watch. The team should be starting the diversion about now. She stared intently at the doors.
Ten minutes later the door to building twelve swung silently open and Doyle stepped out into the sunlight. Emily wrapped her hands around the gun. Cell phone glued to his ear he made a beeline for the car. Emily's eyes followed his every move. She hadn't been sure what she would feel when she saw Doyle again but now she knew. It was pure loathing. Hatred for the pain he was causing Jack and Hotch. Hatred for the scared woman he had turned her into after the fight and hatred for taking her life away.
It would be so easy to end it here. One well-placed bullet was all that was needed. There would then be no need to send in the SWAT team. The courts wouldn't be bogged down with a trial and years of appeals. One pull of the trigger and it would be all over. She would be able to live again. No more hiding, no more constantly looking over her shoulder. Sleep would be a welcome visitor and the nightmares banished. It was now or nothing. Emily raised the gun, took aim and squeezed the trigger.
I just love cliffhangers, don't you? :) Don't forget to test out the nice blue, shiny review button.