Hope you guys keep liking the story! Here's chapter eight, enjoy! And let me know what you think!
Nikolas sat outside the station for a while, watching the people go in and out. He was already disguised. And well, too. He looked nothing like himself. Short, greying hair and a thin mustache. Nothing out of the ordinary. Silver spectacles perched on his nose, and wearing nice jeans and an older sports jacket. Nothing he'd ever wear, but necessary for the disguise. It made him mostly inconspicuous.
He watched the proceeding inside from his car, seeing the people moving around, much less chaotic than before. It had been over five hours, after all. No one was in panic mode. Well, yet. Given another half hour, they probably would be. It was just a pity he'd be gone by then.
He spotted one of the Agents walking out of the building. Not his target, which was a shame. It would have made his job a whole lot easier. He didn't mind watching her, though. She was a piece of work. Blonde. Beautiful. He could have had fun with that one.
Nikolas looked back to the clock on his dashboard. Just ten minutes until the six hour mark hit. His fingers started tingling. It was time to set his plan in motion. He cleared his throat and got out of the car, walking calmly towards the station.
He walked through the doors and was immediately stopped by one of the officers. He expected that, though. Everyone was being stopped now that an FBI Agent's life was in danger.
"Excuse me sir, how can I help you?"
"Oh, yes," Nikolas responded. "My name is Chris. How are you?"
He shook hands with the officer, who said, "Fine, thank you. What brings you here?"
"Oh, I just had a question about a parking violation. See, my daughter got a ticket the other day. She lives in Washington D.C., bless her. She's a city girl. But she called to ask my help, and I didn't know much about it. So I thought I'd come down and get an opinion of someone who knows. And you look pretty smart, I'm sure you'll be able to help."
"Oh, well yes, I could," the officer said, looking slightly proud. "Would you like to sit down?"
"Sure, thank you," Nikolas said.
Perfect.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The clock kept moving, closer and closer to the six hour mark. All the other kills had taken almost exactly six hours after the flowers had arrived. But he was sitting in a police station. He wasn't about to leave, and there were a couple of officers watching the front doors, stopping anyone who walked in. He was safe.
Reid snuck a look over at Morgan, who was sitting at the table near him, studying the contents of a folder. Morgan had said that he'd stay with him in the back and make sure that nothing happened. Reid sighed, tapping his foot on the ground.
After a minute of the constant tapping, Morgan looked up. "You alright, Reid?"
"Besides having a standing death threat on me by a professional hit man, I'm just fine," Reid responded.
Morgan chuckled a little. "Listen, Reid. You're going to be fine. If this guy thinks he's getting at you while you're in a police station, he's got another thing coming. Especially because he'd have to get through me."
Reid smiled and nodded. "Yeah," he said, looking down at his hands. He tried again to concentrate on the paper in front of him, but found it impossible. His mind kept wandering off. And really, there wasn't much to do. So he settled himself on staring out the window, watching a squirrel scamper around, the ticking of the clock in his ears.
After a few more minutes, Reid sighed and stood up, catching Morgan's attention. "Bathroom," Reid said dismissively. "I want to splash some water on my face."
"Want me to come?"
"It's just the bathroom. I'll be fine," Reid said dismissively.
"Alright," Morgan said, nodding before he turned back to the papers he was studying.
Reid stepped out into the hall, pushing open the bathroom door and catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looked pale, and a bit tired. He turned on the faucet, running the water and getting his hands wet, rubbing at his face a bit.
The door open behind him, and he immediately took his hands away from his face, staring at the man who had come in through the mirror. Grey hair, dressed nicely in a light coloured jacket. He wouldn't have taken too much notice, but the man said, "Howdy."
"Hello," Reid mumbled back.
"You look a bit sickly, there," the guy said, stepping up to the sink next to him and beginning to wash his hands.
"Rough day," Reid replied suspiciously.
"Sorry to hear that," Nikolas said. He could tell the Agent was shaken up by the whole thing. Unsteady, nervous. Perfect.
He reached over to grab a paper towel to dry his hands off as the Agent mumbled something quietly in response, turning to leave. Perfect.
Nikolas grabbed him from behind, putting a hand over his mouth to muffle any sound he could make. The scrawny Agent certainly was a fighter, though. He managed to get an elbow around and jab it into his ribs. But Nikolas didn't even falter. He was no stranger to pain.
He spun the Agent around, slamming him into the wall and pinning him there so he could slip the knife he was hiding out of his jacket pocket. There was a good amount of fear in the Agent's eyes. Nikolas chuckled. "I'm sorry to say… It's about to get just a bit rougher."
He felt the Agent's body contort as he shoved the knife into his abdomen, heard the noise of pain that was somewhere between a gasp and a groan. Just for extra measure, to make sure he'd done his job completely, he stabbed the Agent twice more. He released his hold and the Agent slid to the ground, slumped over, panting and gasping. Perfect.
Nikolas chuckled again. He was even able to clean himself up a bit. He washed the Agent's blood off of his hands and took off his jacket, which had blood staining the front. He folded it over so the blood was hidden on the inside and draped it over his arm, covering the blood that also stained his shirt. Perfect.
The Agent was still slumped in the same position, fighting for his breath as he tried to edge towards the door. Though he'd barely moved an inch. Nikolas let out another laugh. There was hardly a chance for the Agent. Perfect.
"My apologies, Agent," he said, before slipping out into the hall, careful not to let the door open enough for anyone to catch a glimpse of what was inside. He walked out of the station without trouble, waving to and thanking the officer who had 'helped' him. His car was waiting on the street, and he calmly got in and drove away.
Perfect. Just as he knew it would be.
Perfect.
"Hey, Morgan? Where's Reid?" Hotch asked tensely, stepping into the room.
"Oh, he went to splash some water on his face," Morgan said, before glancing over at the clock. His eyes widened and he hopped up. "Almost ten minutes ago!" He pushed past Hotch and ran down the hall towards the bathroom.
Morgan barged through the bathroom door, his eyes catching sight of the image that was reflected in the mirror he faced. A red stain on the white tiled wall, leading down and out of the mirror's range. He was almost afraid to turn around and look, but he did. And he saw exactly what he was terrified he would.
Reid. And blood. A lot of it.
"Reid!" he shouted, Hotch just catching up and pushing the door open. "Call a bus! Now!"
"Someone call a bus!" Hotch shouted out into the station.
"Reid, man, come on, stay with me," Morgan said, trying to stop the bleeding and keep him awake at the same time. His eyes were closed, but they flickered open as Morgan tapped on his cheek. "Come on, Spencer. Wake up."
Morgan could hear that the police station was suddenly thrown into complete chaos. There were several people jostling at the door, trying to see inside, but Hotch was blocking the way and keeping an eye out for the paramedics. Who were already close, according to the sirens. Morgan vaguely remembered that the firehouse, where the ambulances were kept, was just down the street.
He saw that Reid was trying to say something, his lips barely moving. "The guy," Reid managed to whisper quietly, gasping. "Wearing… a disguise. Grey wig… jacket…"
"Okay, okay. Shh. Talking is taking your energy, just wait, you can tell me later," Morgan said.
"But… if I don't…" Reid said, looking at him through heavily lidded eyes.
"You will. Don't say that," Morgan said firmly. "You'll be alright. And don't worry, I will personally make sure we get this guy. You just need to hang on."
The paramedics came rushing in then, quickly putting him on a stretcher and rushing him out and into an ambulance. "I'll go with him!" JJ called, hopping in after them just before the door shut and the sirens started up again, the ambulance flying out of the parking lot.
Morgan sat back, going to put his head in his hands but stopping when he saw them covered in blood. Reid's blood. "Damn it," he said, his voice shaking from a terrible mixture of anger and fear. He stood up, fighting the urge to hit something.
"Here," Hotch said, handing him a handkerchief. Morgan grabbed it and furiously wiped at his hands, still failing to get all of the red off of them.
Morgan followed Hotch out of the bathroom, where most of the chaos had subsided and everyone was sitting in shocked silence. Most of them were staring at him wide eyed. He stared back at them all, before looking down at the white and now red stained cloth in his hands. He finally lost the fight to stop himself from attacking something, ripping the handkerchief in his hands and kicking out at the wall, making everyone who was watching him jump. If he hadn't gotten so distracted by the file he'd been rereading…
"Morgan," Hotch said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. He looked up, spotting Rossi, whose usual calm and collected expression was gone, replaced by a definitely shaken one. Prentiss off to the side as well, leaning against the wall and taking shaky breaths. And Hotch… Hotch was looking just about as upset as he was feeling himself.
"We need to catch this guy," Morgan announced loudly. "He's going down."
He shrugged off Hotch's hand, striding quickly into their room, vaguely hearing the others follow.
Morgan knew one thing for certain. If he met this guy, there were no guarantees that he would come out of it alive.
I know. I'm cruel, aren't I? Be sure to tell me in a review! Pretty please!
