Author's Note: Thanks to the reviewers of the last chapter: Love-B. xo; zzz-zzz84; Zolidify; 1xadzy3dgftw1xLSNx3dg1xMGG; canny-bairn; ditzie-blonde; crazyobsession101; power214063; and IllStandByYou87. They literally spur me forward in posting, so thank you.
Special thanks to brynnifer who is pretty much the reason I finished this story. I'm not entirely satisfied with this chapter, but there are only two chapters after this, so I wanted to get it out there. I've been over this nearly a million times, so I'd love to hear what you think. JJ will be meeting Zoey in the next chapter.
Emily stepped into the Interrogation Room, smirking softly as she looked at the man across the table from her.
She was grateful for the chance to interrogate this monster, this horrible awful person even if Dave had to watch from the other side of the glass to make sure she didn't go out of control.
Now she got to interrogate who had 'sold' JJ to Manuel and get him to confess.
His partner had died of some drug over-dose years before, but now, she got to question him- -even she would admit it was more like tricking him into a confession. The profile said the fact she was a woman would infuriate him further, and that odds were he wouldn't even remember her.
Good.
For months, she had pushed her work aside as she cared for her friend, but she had failed. Interrogations, profiling, this is what she was good at.
It felt good to finally be in control again.
"Mr. Austin, I'm Agent Emily Prentiss with the FBI." She said, intentionally vague about her title to ensure that this bastard thought she was a low person in the Bureau.
Hotch was in the next room, and Morgan in the room next to his.
But this scum of the earth, this thing that didn't deserve to be called a person.
He was hers.
"Thank you for coming in, I just have a couple of questions for you." She smiled, feeling a rush of perverse excitement.
Breaking this man, listening to him weave his lies while unknowingly digging himself deeper and deeper...
This was going to be fun.
"Agent Hotchner would have liked to meet with you," Derek explained to the man identified in Manuel's accounting books as the man from the phone call- -the man who had forced the team to listen to JJ being terrorized and being unable to stop it, "But he was called away in a meeting with someone else. You've been reminded of your rights?"
He had waited a long time for this chance.
Watching JJ wither away in front of his own eyes, that had been excruciating because there was nothing he could do to stop it.
And Derek Morgan was the type of man that ran into a house with a sledge hammer for the simple reason of having nothing better to do.
"Yeah, but look," Jason Clark, a balding thirty year old man with a gruff voice and tattoos up his arm, scoffed with amusement, "Those drug charges won't stick. It wasn't mine, you've got nothing."
"Maybe, maybe not." Derek shrugged gruffly as he slid a picture of JJ toward the man. "Do you remember this woman?"
"Um, no. But she's hot. Who is she?" Jason chuckled as he looked at the photo.
"She was a federal agent abducted by a very bad man." Derek said seriously, fighting the way his lips urged to turn upward as the man across from him hung on every word for the chance to exchange favors with the FBI. "We're looking for information on a man named Manuel."
Little did this man realize that by even admitting to knowing Manuel, he would be confessing to being complicit to international drug trafficking, weapons violations, and many many other crimes.
Sometimes it felt really good to work for the FBI.
"I know Manuel." The man sighed, "but this chick I'm not sure–" He grimaced, "What will you give me for information?" He asked.
Morgan rubbed his chin as if thoughtfully considering. "First, why don't you tell me if you can identify any of the voices in this tape." He flipped the long-ago recorded conversation on. "Tell me if you can identify any of the voices in this, and we'll see what we can do."
'Who is this?'
'This is Aaron Hotchner from the FBI.'
Jason Clark's face froze as the memory of the situation pricked at his mind. This was not good. No, this was not good.
'I heard she's been missing an entire year, Agent Hotchner, your threats aren't very promising.'
"I don't know who that- -"
"Forensics has matched the phone conversation with your voice." Derek informed. "Which means you not only were complicit in trafficking a kidnapped woman across international lines, you knew you were assaulting an FBI Agent."
"But, you can get me out of this, right? I can tell you about Manuel. I know where the guy lives. I can help!"
"Let me give you some advice," Morgan sneered, loving every second of this, "Next time–and you won't have to worry about it because there won't be a next time–next time someone says it's better to tell the truth about what happened, shut the hell up and call your attorney." He winked as he stood.
"Wait!" The man cried. "You tricked me."
"I did." He smiled and turned toward the door, "But don't worry, I'll be sure to tell all of the inmates at the federal pennitentiary how much you wanted to cooperate with every facet of the investigation."
Behind Derek's back, Jason Clark blanched. "You can't do that. They'll kill me. I'll be a dead man. You've got to give me some protection. Please."
Morgan paused, his hand on the door as he grinned with satisfaction. "Go to hell."
"You aren't going to trick me with any of those rouses." Judge Anthony Shepherd scoffed at the files laid out in front of him. Hotch had yet to say a word as the judge sneered with derision as if already trying to discern how much the federal agent knew and how much he still was unaware of. "I'm not going to confess to anything."
Regardless, he wasn't a fourteen year old kid that could be tricked into saying something he shouldn't.
He was a District Court Judge.
After a moment, Hotch looked up from the file he had been studying. "I'm not trying to get you to confess, I don't need you to."
"If that were true, I wouldn't be here." The Judge scoffed.
"I'm sure you've seen the investigation on Supervisory Special Agent Jennifer Jareau," Hotch said softly, his voice low and angry as he tried to control his temper. "We arrested Dr. Miguel Santos and- -"
"I don't know him. There's no way you can tie me to- -"
"Did you know he kept records, you arrogant bastard?" Hotch exploded. "Did you know he video taped you? You are going to prison for a long time."
"You're bluffing." The Judge rolled his eyes, the smug look on his face taunting Hotch's soul.
But he didn't need to deal with that anymore.
Because JJ's captor had kept records, and the only reason Hotch had brought this man into the interrogation room was to watch him squirm when he realized he would never spend another day as a free man.
That, and to find some excuse to annhilate this man's very existence.
"Why don't I turn on this video tape and we'll just see if I'm bluffing?" Hotch ground out, barely managing to hold onto his anger.
The man's smug smirk died on his face as Manuel's basement came into view. 'This has been a great year Manuel- -' The man's jaw dropped in horror as he stared back at his reflection on the television set.
"This- - I didn't know I was being recorded, this won't be admitted." He stammerd, his eyes wide as he watched the scene playing out in front of him.
This was beyond bad, but Judge Shepherd couldn't tear his eyes off the scene playing out in front of him, his stomach dropping with the dreadful realization that he would need more than just a good attorney to get out of this.
He would need a damn miracle.
And he wasn't exactly the sort of person that deserved miracles.
Hotch paused the tape, the Judge's face glaring back at both men with a sadistic grin that made the Judge himself uncomfortable. "Listen, I have connections. I can help you- -"
"Judge Shepherd, you have the right to remain silent." Hotch started as he pulled the cuffs out of his pocket and slid them across the table. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law–"
"You can't do this to me!" The judge threw his chair back as he pushed forward toward the closed door. Hotch was up in an instant, throwing the judge against the wall as he immobilized the man's limbs.
"Please." Hotch intoned, his voice low as he whispered in the other man's ear. "Please, resist arrest, because then I can throw you through that window like the piece of trash you are, so please." He insisted, pushing the man more forcefully against the wall, "Resist arrest."
Unfortunately for Hotch, the man quit fighting, limply accepting his fate as he clamped his mouth shut. Agents burst into the room, ready to escort Judge Shepherd to a holding facility while Director Strauss stepped in quietly after them.
"Nice job, Agent Hotchner." Director Strauss commended after a moment, "Though no one would have faulted you if you had used a little more force." She said slowly, clearly conveying her message.
If she had been solely in charge with no one to answer to, Hotch wondered if Judge Shephard would have made it to the Interrogation Room unscathed.
"I know." Hotch agreed, still staring at the open door where the Judge had just departed. "But he's not worth it."