At 3 p.m. the combined teams are once again pouring over data from overseas and Stateside operatives alike. They were in one of the large conference rooms on the first floor in deference to the number of people working…and to put fewer people in danger if the arrest of the leak turned violent.

As Morgan scans a report with physical descriptions of the potential cell members he frowns.

"Prentiss, how do we not have any pictures of these guys?"

"True identities are speculation only. We do know they attended a training camp in Pakistan within the last 5 years."

"How do we know that?"

"One member of the cell was arrested in Germany trying to fly to the Canada. He finally gave up certain pieces of information once he was returned to Kazakhstan. His story of the camp was backed up by drone footage. But the men wore complete head wraps so their faces were not picked up by the camera. Their heights are right but we know other physical characteristics could be different now. The key to spotting them will be seeing the person looking too calm and carrying a large backpack."

"Say what?" Reid asks in confusion.

"They will be in business clothes and blend in just like the others using the rail line. They will have a backpack or computer bag that will appear heavier than you would expect. They will not appear scared, anxious or even stressed. They are confident they are doing the right thing and are ready to die to accomplish their goal. Staffers, Congressmen, businessmen always seem in a hurry and stressed. They have a place to be and a short time to get there. Our unsubs will not be in any sort of hurry."

Emily watches as each person takes in that information. Her eyes narrow as she sees Farrelli trying to text. He frowns.

"Hey, my phone isn't working."

Emily raises an eyebrow. Only Brent's phone and the burn phone were supposed to be jammed. She looks over and sees Hotch is staring at her. She can read the look in his eyes: that makes no sense to him, either. Hotch steps out of the room to call Garcia and have her double check the blocked numbers. Emily approaches Farrelli.

"Is that your work phone?"

Farrelli nods. "Yeah. It should have standard protocols on it to avoid the government blocks."

"Quantico is a bit different," Emily explains. "You have to have an additional protocol added on. Sometimes it's forgotten or just ignored if they don't think you'll have business here."

"Damn it. Can anyone here fix it?"

"Maybe. Don't worry about it right now. Let's just stay focused on the information we need to stop the attack."

He just nods and pockets the phone. Well, more like government issued clock at this point.

Hotch bursts into Garcia's lair. "Double check the numbers you blocked. Farrelli's phone wouldn't work."

Garcia rolls to another computer and types a few things. "Based on what I have his phone should work."

"Call it."

Garcia does but it goes straight to voicemail. She shakes her head. "I don't understand."

"Try Brent's line. If it goes through claim wrong number."

Garcia dials Brent's number and it, too, goes to voicemail. She looks at Hotch. "Why wouldn't their phones have the proper protocols on it?"

"Could it be the tech forgot to put them on?"

"No way, sir. And he didn't seem to notice it wasn't working when they were at their office."

"Garcia, jam all the phones." Hotch thinks carefully. "We need to find out who he rode here with. That's the mole."

Hotch pulls out his phone and calls Emily. When she answers he gives an order. "Just say yes when I say the name of the agent that rode here with Farrelli. Brent." No response. "Noth." No response. "Allen."

"Yes."

"He's the mole. He swapped phones with Farrelli, most likely switching the SD card since the serial numbers were used to block the signals." Hotch starts to make his way back to the conference room.

"I see. That doesn't make sense, sir," Emily says carefully.

"It's the only possibility. We need to isolate those two and start to question them."

"Understood. I'll get Morgan to assist me with that."

"Good. Take Farrelli. Rossi and I will deal with Allen."

"Right."

Hotch tries to will the elevator to move faster. He hurries out before the doors open completely. As he starts down the hallway he sees Morgan, Emily and Farrelli heading towards another conference room. He walks into the task force room and gives a pointed look to Rossi. He glances around but doesn't see Allen. Rossi walks up.

"What's going on?"

"Where's Allen?" he whispers.

"Went to the bathroom a second ago."

"We need to find him and secure him."

Hotch and Rossi go out into the hall. They intercept Allen as he leaves the bathroom.

"We need to speak with you," Hotch says.

Allen looks from one man to the other. "What's this about?"

"Your phone."

"What?"

"This way. Let's talk," Rossi insists as they make their way to another room. Once inside, Rossi holds out his hand. "May I see it?"

Allen takes his phone off his hip. "Sure. Here."

Rossi takes it and starts to look it over. Hotch looks at Allen.

"Has your phone been with you all day?"

"Uh, yeah. I mean, I may have left it on the table when I went to the bathroom or something but ever since we left D.C. it's been on my hip."

"Hotch, this isn't his phone."

Both men look over. "What?"

Rossi holds up the phone and shows a picture in the gallery. It's a self portrait of Natalie Brent and a Middle Eastern-looking man.

"Holy shit," Hotch mutters.

Allen immediately understands. The three race back to the task force room.

"Where's Brent?" Hotch demands.

JJ and Reid look up. "Bathroom," JJ answers. "Uh, come to think of it, she's been gone a while."

"Come on. You need to check," Hotch says.

"Okay," she says, sensing the urgency.

She follows them down the hall and goes into the bathroom. "Brent, you in here?" No answer. "Brent?" She checks all the stalls and goes back out. "She's not in there."

Hotch and Rossi race towards the front door, JJ right behind them. They get out into the parking lot and see one of the Secret Service sedans is already gone.

"Rossi, get with security. We need to stop that car before it gets off base."

Rossi is racing back in the building. Hotch and JJ run across the parking lot, trying to see if Brent is really gone. They check all the aisles but the car is gone. Hotch pulls out his phone.

"Prentiss, it was Brent. And she's in the wind."

"Son of a BITCH!"

"Rossi is contacting base security but if she took off when I called you or when you took out Farrelli she could be gone by now."

"And she had lights and sirens to assist her. So what exactly happened?"

"She changed out her SD card with Farrelli and her phone with Allen's. Most likely the burn phone SD card is in one of them. She covered her ass."

Emily is pinching the bridge of her nose. They'd been played and it's something she should have seen coming. Of course the agent would be expecting to get caught this close to action time. The minute they decided to move to Quantico she assumed the worst and made her move. They had missed their chance to profile her and out her.

"Anything?" Emily asks as she meets them in the lobby.

JJ shakes her head. "She wasn't anywhere in the parking lot. We missed her."

"Fuck!"

Rossi runs up. "MP's stopped her."

"Good. Then I can kill her," Emily states as she starts towards the parking lot.

She gets in her sedan, the other three piling in with her. She turns on lights and sirens and races towards the front gates. She sees three MP vehicles surrounding the sedan. Their gun are drawn and Brent is not getting out. She parks and starts towards the car. JJ grabs her arm.

"EMILY! NO! She could shoot you."

"She won't. Trust me." JJ doesn't let go. Emily stares into her eyes. "Jen…trust me."

Something in her wife's eyes convinces JJ to let go. Emily starts towards the cars. She glances at the MP's.

"Unless she shoots me dead hold your fire."

"Yes, ma'am," they reply.

"You had to stipulate your death," JJ mumbles in irritation.

Emily walks up and taps on the window. "It's over, Brent. Get out."

Brent holds up her phone. "Your analyst jammed all the phones, didn't she."

"As soon as they knew there was something off with Farrelli and Allen. Just left you, Noth, and Wayans."

Brent chuckles. "Think Harlan's figured it out yet?"

Emily grins. "Nah, he's probably still trying to get a call through."

The two women stare at each other a moment. "I'm not going to tell you anything."

"I know. Just answer me this: why?"

"My father was a scientist. He was killed in the Persian Gulf War when he went back to help his country fight the American Incursion."

"He's Iraqi. Strange, your bio lists your dad as American."

"Stepdad. He raised me. Several years back I was able to erase the existence of my birth father from my records. Started working my way up to where I could be most useful to the cause."

"I see." Emily thinks a second. "I don't get it. You were raised here, educated here, is it really so bad you want it destroyed?"

"If you have to ask you will never understand."

Emily laughs. "Right. Biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard. Just admit you have no idea what the real reason for the hatred is. You drank the Kool-Aid and now you're just a blind follower. The only difference between you and the bastards we'll stop tomorrow is you'll spend your life in jail. They'll probably die for a lost cause."

"You're half right. They'll die tomorrow." She shrugs. "I'll die today."

She lifts her gun and puts it under her chin. Emily's eyes widen. "NO!"

The gun goes off.