My apologies for getting this up so late. Today was sort of a little bit crazy, but it's better now. Enjoy!
JJ
She interrupted Rossi's conversation with only minimal regret. Colonel Heffield didn't look put out, but Rossi shot her a confused frown as she bustled over and inserted herself between them. "Reid found something," she said, trying to control her own emotions as her younger friend's words repeated in her head. "He says we need to go out there."
"Alright," Rossi seemed to sense her urgency, because he followed after only a quickly mumbled, "Excuse me, Colonel."
They found the young agent pacing among the seats, the debris torn apart and mangled from the impact. As they neared he looked up, and his agitation rose. "What's going on, Reid?" JJ was careful to keep back from the area, intent as Reid was on showing them some revelation.
"Okay, look here," he indicated a row of seats that had been almost bent in half from the crash. JJ could make out the faint letter D on a chair, but there was no indication which row this was. "You see the belts here?" He indicated the row he was currently standing in front of. "They've all been ripped away at the seam, where they are weakest. That means that in the crash the belts came away from the seat. Others, like this one," he turned and knelt in front of another row, lifting one to show, "have been cut away with a tool; most likely by one of the recovery crews when they removed the body."
"Spence, I don't understand," she pressed, urging him to get to the point.
"Okay, follow me," he turned and strode carefully through the wreckage to first class, where Gerald Rinks had been sitting. "Look," he pointed at the row of seats.
"I don't see anything," she shook her head and tried to keep her frustration from seeping into her tone. Reid often walked her through his thought processes when explaining things; it was easier than trying to keep up with his leaps of logic and usually she was grateful for it. Right now, however, she just wanted him to get to the point and let her get back inside the tent where she didn't have to see the evidence of the tragedy before her.
"This is Gerald Rinks' seat," Reid explained. "See here?" He held up the two sides of the seat belt in question.
"The belt was unbuckled," Rossi answered, and a second look confirmed it.
"Okay," JJ said, "but we know Rinks walked away from the crash. He had to have unbuckled himself."
"Right," Reid lit up and he dashed past them back into the main cabin area. "Look." He pointed emphatically. JJ knelt down and examined the row he was indicating.
"The seat belt has been unbuckled," she said slowly, feeling her heart rate pick up despite the warning bells in her head. "Was this seat occupied?" She already knew the answer to the question, but she needed to hear it out loud. If Reid said it was possible, then it was.
"This was Morgan's seat," Reid confirmed. "JJ, he unbuckled after the crash. He survived, JJ." Reid's voice broke on the last, and she squeezed his arm.
"Let's not jump to conclusions, Spence," she warned, though in her mind she was cheering and jumping up and down in triumph. She had to take a steadying breath as Rossi shook his head.
"He could have simply not been buckled during the crash," Rossi posited. "If our scenario is correct, it happened very quickly."
"Even in full descent, there would have been time to buckle a seat belt," Reid argued. "Besides, Morgan always remains buckled on commercial flights. I remember he told me it's because both his mother and Garcia insist."
Rossi shook his head sadly. "But if you're right and he survived, then where is he? Garcia checked every hospital in a sixty mile radius." JJ could sense the hope in his tone, but he was ever the realist. He was also right. If Morgan was alive, he would have contacted them.
"I don't know," Reid was still adamantly optimistic, "but I do know that Morgan walked away from this crash."
"Hang on," JJ jogged over to the command tent and poked her head in. "Colonel, can I talk to you for a minute?"
"Sure," he excused himself from the briefing he was attending and walked over to her.
"Colonel, do you know this area very well?"
"No, sorry," he shook his head. "But Bob does." He grabbed his radio and pressed the button. "Baggage Recovery."
"Go ahead," a man with a deep Southern drawl answered.
"Hey, Bob, can you come over here a moment? Agent Jareau has a question for you."
"Be right there." JJ tried to conceal her nerves, but she couldn't hide the clench of her hands as she waited for Bob to arrive.
"Is there something wrong?" Heffield asked.
"Reid seems to think it may be possible that someone else walked away from the crash." Then, because Colonel Heffield deserved the whole truth, she added, "Agent Morgan's seat belt was unbuckled rather than broken or cut away."
"He might not have had it buckled," Heffield countered.
"We don't think so," she looked up as an older man walked through the open tent flap. He looked every inch the Texas cowboy, including a western-style shirt tucked into black jeans. The buckle on his belt wasn't a rodeo prize, but JJ could make out the embossed stallion easily in the low light.
"Bob, this is Agent Jareau from Virginia. She's got some questions for you." JJ shook the man's work-roughened hand as the Colonel excused himself to jump in on a FAA briefing. Bob nodded in familiar greeting to Rossi before turning back to JJ.
"What can I do for you ma'am?"
"I was wondering how well you know this area," JJ began. "We think another passenger may have survived and walked away. We've already checked with hospitals in the area, but none have reported new patients that could be from the crash."
"If they walked into the woods and got caught outside, I don't like their chances," Bob answered truthfully. "Especially after three days."
"Are there any places around here that would serve as shelter?" JJ wondered which would be worse; knowing Morgan had died in the crash, or that he'd survived only to fall prey to the harsh elements.
"There are a few places," Bob told her, "but most likely, if they survived and haven't turned up, then one of the locals found them. We got a lot of people in these parts that live off the grid, completely isolated. It's possible they might have taken him in thinking he was a lost hiker and not even known about the crash."
Hope sprang in her heart again, and this time she let it. They would need to comb the area immediately to look for these locals. When she mentioned it, Bob shook his head sadly.
"Most of those folks are mistrustful of the government. They won't appreciate federal agents intruding on their territory." He paused for a moment, and the lines in his faces deepened as he concentrated. After a moment he nodded, as though he'd been having an argument with himself and won. "Could be a few of our local sheriffs could take a look. They can cover the ground faster than you could anyway. I have a friend in the department I can ask."
"Thank you," JJ shook his hand again, this time more fervently. "I can get you a picture of the man we're looking for."
"I'll call him now." Bob stepped outside to make the call as JJ returned to Rossi and Reid. She told them what she'd learned, and Reid's entire face lit up with a smile.
"I can't wait to see Garcia's face when we tell her," he grinned, but JJ just laid her hand on his arm and shook her head softly.
"We probably shouldn't tell her until we have more information," she said, and she saw Rossi nod in agreement out of the corner of her eye.
"Why not?" Reid - despite all the horrors he had seen - was sometimes still that young, naive agent that had harbored a boyish crush on her and looked up to the team as a surrogate family.
"False hope is sometimes worse than harsh truth," Rossi explained. "Losing Morgan hurt her, kid. And then we found a survivor, only to find out it wasn't Morgan. I imagine it was like losing him all over again. A third time might kill her."
JJ patted Reid's arm in sympathy at his sad look. "Why don't you call Hotch and fill him in," she suggested. "I'm going to go have a talk with the United guys about their flight attendants."