Rossi is pacing impatiently while Garcia tries to tap into the security system.

"Damn it! Good news is it looks like he shot out two of the cameras. He missed 2 others, my guess is they are camouflaged," Garcia reports.

"So Reid is okay?" Rossi confirms with agitation lacing his voice.

"Yes. Annabeth is using clear packing tape to secure his wrists together in front of his body."

"Oh, Spence," JJ whispers as she watches the security feed.

"Do we have sound?"

"No, sir," Garcia replies in frustration.

"What's he doing?"

JJ leans towards the speaker phone. "Holmgren is calm. He's talking to Reid. Reid looks to be building a relationship with him. Polevitsky looks terrified and- -FUCK! Garcia, rewind the feed on camera 3." Garcia immediately complies. She too sees the shadow. "Garcia, is there a camera in the office?" Garcia pulls up camera 5, which she had ignored while they were checking on Reid. "Rossi, there is a young woman in the office," JJ reports.

Garcia starts to tap on another computer. "Okay I have employees of the business, license photos, and the woman in the office is Leslie Tide, 24, been working there for 2 years."

"Does she have a cell phone?"

"Yes. Sending her info to you now."

"Good work, Garcia. You two keep an eye on Reid. Hotch and Morgan are pulling in. As soon as I know what we're doing here I'll call you back. If you see anything that can help us call me."

"On it, Rossi," JJ responds.

Holmgren gestures to the ground. "Sit."

Reid slowly lowers himself to the ground in front of the jewelry counter. "Is this okay?" he asks, giving Holmgren a greater sense of control.

"Of course," Holmgren says. The man is pacing, obviously trying to work out a way to get out of the store.

Reid is about to say something when he notices a box under a chair right near the front door. He looks around and sees a similar box nudged under the overhang from one of the jewelry counters and partially hidden by a planter. It is right near the register, most likely with the hope someone would be at the register when the third package arrives. He frowns and looks at the bag that Holmgren had set on the counter. He was either going to conceal 3 extra bombs here or he was hand-delivering the final package; the one that would ignite the store.

"Found them all, Agent?" Holmgren asks sarcastically.

Reid lifts his eyes to his captor. "I believe so. If you stick with 3 there is one under the chair by the door to ensure that exit is blocked. The other is near the office. Though on this side of the counter it could help block the exit out the back." He swallows. "And the third is in that bag on the counter."

Polevitsky gasps and takes a step away, as if that could protect her from the deadly present on her display counter.

Holmgren smiles. "Very good, Agent Reid. Tell me, are you adopted?"

"No, sir. My father abandoned my mother and me when I was a child. She raised me until…until she had to be committed."

Holmgren studies the man carefully. "So you ended up a foster kid?"

"No. I was 18. I just ended up…alone." Reid prays that will foster the connection he is trying to establish with the man.

Holmgren laughs. "I know that feeling. Of course I had been alone a long time because people LIKE HER," he swings the gun around towards Annabeth, "forgot what it was LIKE to be alone! Forgot what it was LIKE to PRAY for a family!"

"I didn't! I swear! I wanted to adopt but- -"

"SHUT UP!" He screams at her. She cowers as he stomps towards the counter. "Just. Shut. Up. You remember that from the homes, don't you? Foster kids just need to shut up and help the family get a check. That's it. Just a fucking check!"

Holmgren jumps when the phone starts to ring. He then resumes pacing when it stops. He glances at it as it begins to ring again.

"It's not a customer," Reid says.

Holmgren spins towards him. "What?"

"It's not a customer. It's my team. They will want to discuss how to end this peacefully without hurting anyone."

Holmgren laughs humorlessly. "Ain't no fucking way to do that, is there? This story ends with explosions and flame and at least that bitch dead," he nods towards Annabeth.

"If you kill her, they will storm in here and kill you."

He walks over and pulls the box out of the bag on the counter. "Then they will burn, too."

Reid shivers. He can't connect with this man, he can't get him to sympathize with the potential victims, he can't get him to see another way out other than the bombs. Holmgren had shot out the obvious cameras. Reid's eyes stray to the camera's he had seen disguised in the walls.

"He won't listen to me," he mouths. "I can't help you. I'm sorry."

Reid's head drops as he accepts all he can do is pray his team can figure out a way to reach the madman with the gun…and bombs.

Hotch throws his phone onto the seat of the SUV in frustration. He had now tried calling the store 3 times.

"Son of a bitch won't answer." He takes a deep breath. "Get me a megaphone."

Morgan goes to the back of the SUV and gets it out of the back. Hotch looks at Rossi.

"He may balk at talking to me."

Rossi nods. "Your authoritarian demeanor could be a bit off-putting to him," he says wryly.

"Exactly," Hotch acknowledges.

"Like the bank in Virginia? You're an ass and get removed from the scene?"

"Yep. Spring in the L.A. ruse and we can make sure he 'accidentally' hears my supervisor Morgan removing me."

"He'll talk to you, Hotch," Emily suddenly interjects.

Hotch turns to her. "Why?"

"In his mind he's still the little kid picked on by others, hated by his foster parents, abandoned by the world. As much as he hates people in authority he won't be able to handle directly confronting you. Make sure he understands you are in charge and no one else will work with him. Eventually he will have to do one of two things: Surrender…or go down in flames," she finishes soberly.

"You're right if he's stuck in his teenage years." Hotch considers what he knows about teen offenders and sees where Emily is getting her profile. "And this does seem to be an extended tantrum."

"But we haven't spoken with him personally," Rossi points out. "We only know what we got from the people he used to get fertilizer. He could be well established mentally as a bitter adult."

"He won't answer the phone, Dave. That's says tantrum to me," Emily insists.

"He plans this far more meticulously than a kid, Emily," Rossi counters.

Hotch holds up a hand. "Enough. You both have valid profile points. We'll know more about his state of mind if we can get him talking or Reid can get us some information. Rossi, text the girl we think is in the office. Hopefully her phone is close to her and even if Holmgren hears it Reid can play it off that it is probably Polevitsky's."

Rossi nods and steps away to type a text to the girl hiding in the office. Emily runs a hand through her hair, cussing her ankle. If she hadn't stepped in that fucking bear trap she could be the one in the jewelry store instead of Reid.

"Stop it, Emily," Morgan whispers. She turns to him. "You or Reid, it would still suck."

Emily sighs. "Jen's got to be so stressed out."

"Imagine if it was you in there."

"I am. She is, too." Emily takes a deep breath. "We haven't had a chance to talk today."

"Remedy that," he encourages. "We have about 5 minutes before Hotch initiates contact with the megaphone. Call her and settle both your hearts."

"What are you going to be doing?"

"Bethune is getting a copy of the building plans. We've got to plan an alternate entry in case negotiations fail. Reid used sign language to tell us where the other two bombs are. One is by the front door."

Emily thinks a second. "So…so you would go in, wouldn't you?" She shivers as he nods. "Deja fucking vu. Cyrus' compound is set to blow and you go after Reid. I was more scared after the bombing when I didn't know where you two were than I was at any other time. Don't you fucking scare me like that again, Derek," she warns him.

Morgan gives her a confident grin. "Who me? Scare you? Never."

Emily manages a smile as he walks off to meet up with Bethune. She takes a deep breath and steps away from those gathered around the command center and hits her wife's number on her phone.

"Jareau," JJ answers tersely, her eyes never leaving Reid's image on the screen.

"Hi, baby."

"Em!"

Garcia turns to JJ and gestures for her to take a breather to talk to Emily. The analyst will watch over Reid. JJ nods and stands, realizing how stiff her legs and back had become.

"Are you okay?"

Emily smiles. "I should be asking you that. God, Jen, I am so sorry you are having to watch Reid and…and…shit."

"Emily, you were right to ask me to say home. We both know that. And if I was there I'd be standing beside you as stressed as I am now so not too much different really."

"I guess not," Emily agrees. "Jen, I love you so much."

"I love you, too. Now that we have established that and we have established I would be stressed no matter what, let me further say your ankle injury is not your fault."

Emily frowns. "Did Morgan fucking text you?"

JJ chuckles at the indignation in the brunette's voice. "Of course not. I know you better than I know myself sometimes. Of course you're kicking yourself, figuratively speaking, for being outside on crutches instead of in the store wondering if you are going to blow up before meeting Maddie and Lucas."

Emily groans. "I'm an asshole when you put it that way."

"No you're not. You love Reid and you are not the only one in that parking lot wishing you could change places with him."

Emily studies the faces of Rossi, Hotch and Morgan. She chuckles. "You're right. I think you helped clear my head with that simple observation."

"Good. He needs us all with our minds clear. Mine, too. Your call has helped center me, too, sweetheart."

"I'm glad. The twins being good to you today?"

"As good as they can be. I think they are in a growth spurt again and are stealing even more room meant for my bladder," JJ reveals with a grin.

Emily chuckles. "Sorry, baby. Should I invest in Depends?"

"Might not be a bad idea," JJ jokes.

Emily takes a deep breath. "Looks like Hotch is ready to get things moving. I will call you as soon as Reid is safe."

JJ smiles at her wife's confidence. "Holding you to that. I love you, Em. Thank you so much for this call."

"No problem, baby. Love you, too."

Emily regretfully hits the End button and goes to see what the plans are to free Reid and the hostages.

Rossi thinks a moment before typing out a text to Leslie Tide.

I am FBI agent David Rossi. Silence your phone before you answer me. Are you able to get out of the office without being seen or heard?

He waits a second, praying the woman can respond. He sighs in relief when she does.

No. I would have to leave the office to go to the backdoor and I could be seen.

Rossi thinks a second. Can you crawl out?

No. Scared. Help us PLEASE!

Rossi sighs. We're doing our best, Leslie. I will be right here with you the whole time, okay? If you hear anything that could help us, let me know. We don't have sound from your security system so you can be our ears, okay?

Okay.

Rossi relays what he has found out to Hotch. Hotch nods.

"Keep her calm, Dave."

"I will."

Morgan, Bethune and Lindall walk up with the building blueprints. Morgan spreads them out on the hood of the SUV.

"We have a way in." He points to the roof. "If we can get the hood off the air duct vent we can lower down to the ducts in the jewelry store. I can make my way to the vent that looks out over the sales floor." He stares Hotch in the eye. "If needed I'd be in position to take the shot."

"We could…"

"No way," Lindall states. "Don't take offense, Morgan, but those vents won't support you. You're too heavy."

Almost as one, all five turn to stare at Emily. Morgan starts to shake his head.

"No way! Her ankle is fucked and if she has to run to get the fuck out of there or even use her legs to climb out she can't!"

"Her ankle is bruised, not broken," Hotch states. He thinks a second, ignoring the glare from Morgan. "We'll let her make the call. She'll know if she can risk Reid or not."

They watch as Emily hangs up the phone and crutches over to them. "So, what's the plan."

"Depends," Hotch says and shows her the way in through the vents. He takes a deep breath. "Morgan is too heavy to make the trek."

Emily is staring at the map when it hits her what he is trying not to ask. She slowly looks up into his eyes, her mind assessing her ankle.

"Fuck."

She hands a crutch to a reluctant Morgan and slowly puts her foot onto the ground. She takes a deep breath and puts her weight on it but immediately lifts it up. She takes another breath and tries again. This time she takes a step, grateful for the other crutch that keeps her from falling on her face. She turns and looks at Hotch, sorrow in her eyes.

"I can't put weight on it. I'd be a liability. I…I'm sorry."

Hotch pats her shoulder as Morgan hands back the second crutch. "Nothing to be sorry for Prentiss."

"Hotch, I stepped in a fucking bear trap! Know any other agents who have been sidelined by a fucking bear trap?" she asks angrily.

Rossi grins. "Actually, yes. Gideon. We were in the wilds of Montana tracking a cannibal. Guy had them laid out like a minefield to his front door."

Emily rolls her eyes. "You've been in the FBI too long, old man, if you know two agents downed by a bear trap," she mutters as she moves away to (figuratively again) kick herself once more.

Hotch turns back to the others. "Okay. Morgan, we have to risk you."

"No you don't," Lindall says and shrugs. "As much as it hurts a guy to admit it, I'm a good 30 pounds lighter than you, Morgan. If you promise not to drop me I can go down the chute."

Morgan studies the confident man. "Still know how to fire a gun or do I need to lower Rudy down for that, too."

Lindall chuckles. "I think I can handle the gun myself."

Morgan looks at Hotch. "We'll be on the roof. I'll let you know when we've got the hood off."

Morgan, Lindall and Bethune head off to get up on the rood. Rossi continues texting with Tide to keep her calm. Hotch looks at Emily.

"How do we let Reid know what's going on?"

Emily shrugs. "I don't know. Go ahead and make contact. I'll think about Reid."

"Good. Your mind has always been stronger than your body, Prentiss. Don't doubt that."

Emily gives him a slight smile. "Thank you, sir."

Hotch steps to the edge of the perimeter and lifts up the megaphone. "DARRYL HOLMGREN! THIS IS AGENT HOTCHNER OF THE FBI. I WOULD LIKE TO SPEAK WITH YOU. PLEASE PICK UP THE STORE PHONE WHICH WILL RING RIGHT TO ME OR COME TO THE DOOR SO WE CAN TALK."

Hotch, Rossi and Emily stare at the door, each holding their breaths.

Reid had not stopped trying to establish a rapport with Holmgren. He had taken a 5 minute break but is now ready to try again. This time he just wants answers he can try to relay to his team.

"Why fire?" he finally asks.

Holmgren looks at him. "What?"

"You could have shot her but you seem determined to kill her via fire. We had profiled that you wanted your target to participate in their death by playing with the toy. That's obviously not the case or you'd have her opening the box. If the death was all that mattered you would have shot her already. But it's the fire that means the most to you. Why?"

Holmgren just glares at Reid. "What the fuck does it matter why?"

"I'm a profiler. It's what we do. We want to understand you, not just arrest you. You've reached a point in your life that you felt these killings were all you had going for you. You found your calling: killing successful adoptees who didn't adopt others themselves. Maybe in understanding you we can help someone else before they reach this point in their lives."

Holmgren chuckles. "Help someone? How the hell do you help someone?"

"You'd be surprised how often the suspects we find just need help. We make sure they get it. Jail time isn't always a given. Many just get sent to a psychiatric ward until they are cured of their urges. I think that could happen for you, Mr. Holmgren."

"I ain't sick. I'm pissed."

"I know. But- -"

Before Reid can say more, Hotch's voice comes over the megaphone. Holmgren hurries to the door and eases back the blind enough to peek out. He turns to Reid.

"Know him?"

Reid nods. "He's my boss. He won't try to trick you."

"How do I know?"

"He won't risk me or Mrs. Polevitsky."

"Oh." He thinks a second. "So what should I do?"

"Pick up the phone and talk to him. Or put him on speaker if you don't want to have to stop pacing," Reid suggests.

Holmgren considers this a moment then walks to the phone and hits the speaker function.

"Hotchner?"

Hotch grabs the command phone that had been set up as a hotline. "Mr. Holmgren, thank you for speaking with me. I think we can agree we want this to end safely with no one else hurt."

"Maybe. This kid here says you can get me into a hospital instead of jail. That true?"

Emily frowns and moves closer to the speaker on the command phone. What is Reid trying to tell them? Or is he still just trying to get on Holmgren's good side?

Hotch replies to Holmgren. "That is true. There are instances where an underlying condition caused behavior that was uncharacteristic. We can evaluate you and find out how best to help you."

"And all you agents can do that?"

"Yes. Our team is trained to evaluate all aspects of a suspects mental abilities."

"Good." Holmgren is staring out the window at the three people with FBI across their chests. "This guy would say anything to save his ass. Send in the chick on the crutches and let's see if she says the same thing this guy has. Any changes and they both die!"

He hangs up the phone. Hotch and Emily exchange a look.

"Well, fuck," Emily mutters.

Hotch shakes his head. "We can't do that. We can't give him another hostage."

Suddenly an idea hits Emily. She keys her mic. "Morgan, how close are you to getting Lindall in place?"

"We just got the hood off and he is preparing to enter the vent."

"So he should be in place soon to cover Reid and me. Good."

"YOU?! What the hell are you talking about?"

Emily ignores him and turns to Hotch. "Call Holmgren back." She pulls out a pad and writes something down. "Tell him this. Make sure to use the exact designation for the code." Hotch reads it and lifts a brow. She rolls her eyes. "Trust me, sir."

Hotch picks up the phone.

In the store, Holmgren goes to the ringing phone and stabs the speaker function. "Why isn't she on her way?"

"Agent Prentiss will be entering shortly. However, according to regulation STTNG 5.5 pertaining to CP's hostage situation resolutions I cannot send in one person without one person coming out. It's called a show of faith, Mr. Holmgren. I have to insist you send out Ms. Polevitsky in return for Agent Prentiss."

"NO! NO! SEND OUT LESLIE!" Annabeth insists.

Holmgren glares at her as the collected FBI agents stiffen. "WHO'S LESLIE?"

"She is hiding in the office. She is young and scared. Let her go and I will stay. Please."

Hotch cusses under his breath. He had wanted Polevitsky out since Leslie Tide's presence hadn't been discovered.

Holmgren storms around the counter and drags the terrified girl out of the back room. He walks to the phone.

"The girl for the agent. NOW!"

He drags her over and shoves her out the front door.

Emily looks at Hotch. "Reid understands what you were saying. Trust that."

"I wish to hell I knew what I said," Hotch admits. "Be careful in there."

Emily nods, hands him her gun and starts across the parking lot.

Emily is right: Reid got it. He scans the room until he sees the vent in the wall behind the cash register. That is where rescue will come from.

Holmgren is staring out a slit in the door. When Emily gets close he steps back. She taps on the door.

"Get in here, Agent Prentiss!"

Emily opens the door and eases inside. He gestures to the wall.

"Against the wall. Spread 'em!"

Emily rolls her eyes and assumes the position. Holmgren pats her down. And steps back. Emily turns and leans back against the wall. He then looks at Polevitsky.

"Tape her like he is."

The jeweler's eyes are apologetic as she does as he orders. Emily gives her a confident smile. When the woman is finished, Emily looks at Holmgren from her spot on the wall. She can no longer hold her crutches so she is virtually pinned to the wall for the duration of this confrontation.

"Mr. Holmgren, my name is Emily Prentiss. I have a masters in criminal psychology and have studied the workings of the mind for many years. I understand you would like to speak to me about possible outcomes from this case."

Holmgren starts to pace. Emily chances a glance at Reid. He gives a nod to let her know he understood.

"If I kill that bitch can I still get a hospital instead of a prison?" Holmgren suddenly asks.

"No, sir. From this point forward any deaths by your hand would negate a diminished capacity defense."

"Fuck. She has to die, Agent!" he insists.

"She can't, Mr. Holmgren. Let's talk, shall we? I have a feeling we can come to a mutually agreeable ending to this standoff."

Holmgren nods and starts to tell Emily about the things in his youth that had shaped his desire for such violent revenge.

JJ feels like she is watching an old silent movie without the benefit of conveniently placed placards describing the scene. She starts to rub her eyes, wondering how much help she is really being.

"Oh my God!"

JJ looks up at Garcia's exclamation and then shoots straight up in her seat, her hand grabbing her phone.

"WHY IS EMILY IN THE JEWELRY STORE?!"

Rossi holds the phone away from his ear until the scream stops. "Reid told Holmgren he could get off on an insanity plea. He demanded Emily come in and evaluate him. If she says anything that strays from what Reid has said, well, it's over."

"Please, PLEASE let their mindmeld be working," JJ prays.

"Morgan has radioed that Lindall is down in the vents and carefully making his way towards the vent behind the register. He'll have an eagle eye view and a perfect shot should it become necessary."

JJ rubs her stomach. "Son of a bitch. Rossi…I…thank you for the information." She hangs up the phone. "Sometimes the job sucks."

Garcia smiles and pats JJ's hand. "Yeah it does. Don't worry, Jayje, by the time Geek Force 1 and Geek Force 2 are done with him he won't know what hit him."

JJ smiles and turns her attention back to the screen. Wishing once more she had sound to go with the video speed.

"Good luck, my nerdlings," she whispers.

Lindall creeps inch by inch, glad Morgan warned him to wear a breathing mask since the vent is filled with dust. Without the mask he'd be sneezing his head off. He wants to hurry to make sure the agents are protected but knows any strange noise could alert the freak with the bombs that there is someone in the vents.

"You became a bomb tech and end up crawling in the vents like a rat. Great career move," he whispers to himself.

Finally he is by the vent. He pulls out a small bottle of oil and carefully coats each vent slat. He then carefully maneuvers the slats until he gets his best view of the scene in the showroom. He keys his mic.

"I'm in place. So far seems the guy is listening to Prentiss. If that changes I have the shot."

"Good job, Lindall. Glad turns out you were just a jerk at the start of the investigation and not an unsub," Morgan says.

Lindall grins. "Thanks. I think."

Lindall brings his gun up to the vent slat and prepares to cover those in the showroom.

Two hours later, Emily finishes her talk with Holmgren.

"So you see, Darryl, your moral compass was irrevocably damaged. Your actions now are a direct result of your damaged childhood. How could you not want to turn the anger into violence when anger and violence were all you saw?" She steps closer to him. "We can definitely get you a diminished capacity plea bargain, we can get you the help you should have been given years ago, and you can start your life anew."

He stares at her a second. Just when Emily thinks she has not gotten through to him, he looks at Polevitsky.

"You said you tried to adopt?"

She nods nervously. "My husband has kidney issues. As such he was declared medically unfit to adopt. We even considered adopting from overseas but it was too expensive. We were starting this business and…and it was just too much money. But we have fostered children and they have known love. I am so, so sorry that you were not afforded that same courtesy in the homes you were placed in."

He stares at her a second longer then gestures to the door. "Get out."

"Wh- -what?"

"GO!" he yells.

Reid studies the man. Instead of being happy at possibly getting little to no punishment for the deaths he seems almost deflated. Something isn't right. He glances at Emily and sees she recognizes the fact, too. He also sees she is pale. She stiffens against the wall, wondering what Holmgren's next move will be and knowing her ankle will not be any help if she has to move quickly to protect herself or Reid.

Annabeth Polevitsky hurries to the door. She pauses as she opens it. "May…may I come visit you in jail? Maybe I can give you the mothering you should have been given years ago."

Holmgren gives her a sad smile. "We'll see. Thank you."

She hurries out of the building.

"Darryl, perhaps you can let Emily go now, too," Reid suggests.

Holmgren studies both agents. He walks over to the counter and picks up the bag containing the fourth bomb. He pulls the box out, turns and drops it in Reid's lap. The startled doctor nearly drops the box but manages to cradle it to his chest with his bound hands. Holmgren cocks his gun and aims it at the box and Reid, who scrambles to his feet with the explosive still in his arms.

"It's too late for me. It's too late for all of us."