HOTCH

Dan was exactly where Hotch had expected him to be - right in the center of the action. No less than half a dozen people surrounded him armed with clipboards, radios, and pencils. Three sides of the command tent were lined with tables covered in laptops, blue prints, and various papers. A small group of people sporting FAA jackets were huddled in one corner, and in the other a pair of men on headsets were talking animatedly into their mics. Various agencies milled about so quickly, Hotch couldn't keep track of all the initials.

Dan looked up when Hotch and JJ walked in, though he didn't so much as hesitate in his speech. He dealt instructions with efficient brevity, and the group dispersed less than a minute after their arrival. With that business concluded, Dan made a beeline to where Hotch was standing.

"Hotch" he greeted with a firm handshake. He'd aged a bit since they'd seen each other last, but the Colonel's blue eyes were sharp as ever as he greeted the newcomers. His silver hair was cut close to his scalp, and his tanned skin was weathered but healthy. He'd gained a few pounds in the intervening years, though Hotch guessed it happened to everyone who retired from the military life. Still, the older man was a formidable presence in the tent.

"Colonel Heffield, it's good to see you again. This is Agent Jareau. Agent Rossi is tracking down Gerald Rinks in the other tent."

Dan nodded at JJ politely, his eyes full of sympathy. "I'm sorry about your man," he said sincerely. "It's always hard to lose one of your own."

"Thank you," Hotch kept himself composed by sheer force of will. "Have you uncovered anything new since we spoke last?"

"Nothing definitive. We're still trying to piece together the last few moments in the cockpit. Have you looked at the preliminary report?" He led them over to the side where they had a bit more privacy.

"We did," Hotch answered, "but I'd like to look into the two pilots. We need to find out if either one of them was vulnerable to bribery or blackmail."

"Dante Marks is our liaison with United Airlines," Dan half-turned and gestured to one of the groups in the opposite corner. Marks cut an imposing figure in the center of his group, his dark skin blending into the navy blue of his jacket. Dan's tone told Hotch that the airline was being less than helpful in the investigation. He guessed the accusations laid against their pilots probably didn't help. "He can get you the pilots' files."

"Actually," Hotch reached into his lapel pocket and grabbed his cell, "I have another idea." He dialed Garcia's number and she picked up on the second ring.

"Garcia." The flat, professional tone told him more about her state of mind than any assessment could have managed. Still, she was here to work and he was going to utilize her talents as much as he could.

"Garcia, I need you to dig into the pilots' lives. Everything - financials, criminal history, background checks, all of it."

"What am I looking for?" He could hear her typing away, presumably searching for their names.

"Anything that would make them crash a plane with 115 people onboard." There was a pause on the other end, and Hotch wondered if he'd been too abrupt. "Garcia?"

"Got it." Her voice was thicker when she answered, and she disconnected without saying goodbye. He glanced over at JJ and wondered for the umpteenth time if it had been a good idea bringing her along. But, as he'd stated before, no one could do what she could. Prentiss had been right; she was more useful here than sitting at home.

"I'm going go talk to Marks," JJ said, and at Hotch's nod she set off toward the far corner. Her history as their press liaison had left her with an amazing set of people skills; if anyone could get them to cooperate with the investigation, it was JJ.

His phone rang in his hand, and he answered before the first ring finished. "Hotchner."

"Hotch, I got something," Rossi told him. "I'm over here in the Baggage Recovery tent. I think we have Rinks' laptop."

"Good work," Hotch felt the beginnings of order settling over the case. This was their first real lead. "Bring the bag, we'll get Garcia to look at the computer. Reid can go through the rest of his belongings."

"They're still searching for his suitcase, if he even had one. Did they contact the fiancee yet?"

"I hope so. I was just about to check in with Prentiss."

"I'll be there in a minute." The line disconnected and Hotch stowed the phone back into his pocket as JJ came back over.

"He's adamant that his men had nothing to do with this. He's sticking to the 'storm caused the crash' story." She seemed unconvinced, and Hotch sought out Dan in the throng of people.

"How likely is it that the plane went down because of the storm?"

Dan ran a hand down his face in a weary gesture, and his entire body sagged as he sighed. He was exhausted, and Hotch wondered how long it had been since he'd slept. "A lightning strike can cause problems," he said, "but we have strict policies in place. Pilots are supposed to stay at least 25 miles away from any storms with prominent lightning. Down drafts can cause structural damage, but the likelihood of a storm causing a crash diminishes each year."

"So not very likely?"

"With the information we gathered from the cockpit, I'd say no. The storm was probably just a cover."

JJ shook her head. "As soon as we declare it intentional, Homeland Security is going to be all over this." She glanced back at the two men in uniform that seemed to be just walking about collecting information.

"I agree," Hotch nodded. "We need to be sure. We've got Rinks' bag," he gestured at Rossi coming through the tent opening with a black backpack over his shoulder, "and Garcia is digging into the pilots' lives. I think our best course is to regroup and start in on victimology." He held out his hand for Dan. "Get some sleep."

"I'll try if you will," he shot back, giving Hotch a pointed look. Rossi hid his grin by coughing, but Hotch caught it anyway and leveled a heatless glare at him.

"We'll stay in touch." Hotch ushered the other two agents out the door ahead of him, careful to keep his eyes off of the wreckage and his mind off of the fact that Morgan was somewhere among it.