viii. Grassland
Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner rarely takes point, usually having the tactical team hit the ground first then following. But this case has grated on his nerves and his sanity for weeks. They finally have a lead, a possible location where the fifteen girls are being held.
He gears up like he did when he was SWAT and throws a smoke bomb down the stairs, praying that the girls are here so this nightmare can just end. Derek Morgan taps his right shoulder to alert him that the team is ready to charge in.
"FBI! Hands in the air!"
The goal is to do this without any shots being fired, but that plan goes to hell when he hears a gunshot and the sickening sound of a bullet tearing through flesh. It's not his body, though, and not Derek's, because he's the one that pushes them forward. Their tactical lenses allow them to see through the smoke and it gives them an advantage, but it still seems like ages before they have the seven men restrained.
He's convinced that his eyes are playing tricks on him because in the back corner of a cage is Emily, dressed like a high-end escort and shielding a girl behind her. He gets close enough for her to hiss, "Arrest me!"
So he does. He doesn't know what the fuck is going on, but he tackles her to the cement floor and recites the Miranda rights as she shrieks at him in French. When they clear the entire compound and the only girl there is Lisette Geroux, he jerks Emily away from the FBI van full of human traffickers and forces her against the side of his Chevy Suburban parked in the grass. His team can handle the scene; his only concern right now is her.
"Why are you here?" Deep down, he knows the answer before he asks the question, but hearing her confirm it makes his stomach church.
"I'm undercover trying to locate these missing girls," she whispers, then struggles against him until he slams both hands against her shoulders. He knows that it's all for show, so she can keep her cover.
"Which Agency?"
"Interpol." She wishes she could explain everything to him, how the only place she feels like she actually belongs is in the field, on missions. She wants to tell him everything about her past. She wants to apologize and beg for his forgiveness. She keeps silent instead.
"How long?"
She doesn't know if he means how long she's been working this case or how long she's been with Interpol. She says the simplest answer. "A French diplomat's daughter was taken. That's why I'm here."
"Lisette, I know," he states. "She's the only girl we recovered here."
"Well, fuck."
"You're working with us now." He leaves no room to argue when he opens the car door and pushes her inside.