Derek Morgan is not your typical agent. He doesn't let personal involvement cloud his ability to work a case, he lets it fuel him. In the BAU that is an asset that definitely helps out with cases. The higher ups don't understand just how these cases affect us. Time and time again I have had to impress upon Strauss that my team is a family and that is how we function best. We are probably closer than any other department in the Bureau, we certainly spend enough time together to know little idioms that other teams wouldn't know about their teammates.
Granted, we don't know everything about one another. We all have managed to keep some things close to our chests. But as the leader of this team, I have to at least pay more attention to my people to make sure they aren't going to break. Seventeen months ago I just wish I paid more attention and maybe I would have seen that curveball coming. Derek saw it. Derek saw right through all of Emily's evasion and reached out. Anyone else would have said it was because they were partners and they needed to know each other so intimately. Yes, that was true…but I am certain that there is more there. If only these two lost souls would have realized it sooner.
I grasp the handle above the door tighter as Morgan takes another sharp turn at high speed. Sirens blaring, we weave through the streets of D.C. to get closer to our goal. This man is determined to get us there as fast as he possibly can, even if it means knocking over a few signs. I felt like that once. My mind drifts to Haley for a brief moment. Maybe if I had driven faster I could have- No, I would not have made it in time no matter what. I glance at Morgan. I certainly hope he doesn't have to experience that heartache.
I cut the sirens as we get close, but I leave the lights on. If Ian Doyle is listening we don't want to spook him.
Morgan pulls up next to a dark colored, older model of a Honda. I can only assume this is Prentiss' vehicle as I climb out of the SUV. Morgan has already crossed over to it and opened the door with ease. Not locked, didn't have to be. He reaches under the seat and pulls out the phone that was used to call his. I survey the area; there are two buildings and no sign of which one is the one we want. I take a flak jacket and strap myself in as I explain the game plan. Rossi, Reid and Seaver to the north, Derek and I to the south.
The building is cavernous and almost too dark. Pockets of light appear only where the old roof lets the sunlight through. The rest of the room is riddled with shadows and the tricks that your mind plays on you. Morgan and I fan out into the expansive room; it's more of an airplane hangar than a warehouse. There is no second story, just tall ceilings and a whole lot of crates. Ideal place for an unsub to hide, I think grimly.
Half the room cleared with Morgan and I switching sides every so often, our outlook is bleak. Rossi's voice comes over the earpiece with a twinge of disappointment, "North building is clear, we're checking the perimeter now."
Clearly their building wasn't full of crates for them to have finished so quickly.
Almost the entire room cleared when Morgan calls out, "Hotch! Over here!"
I make my way to the sound of his voice and stop abruptly at the scene before me.
A few broken crates and blood indicate a clear struggle between the two figures lying still on the ground. Ian Doyle lay to one side, a bullet hole between the eyes and a few more scattered across his torso. His gun still rested in his hand, though it was clear he would never use it again. A knife with blood on the blade lay a few feet from him. The bruise on his hand leads me to believe that it was kicked away.
My eyes travel to where Morgan has just knelt down. Emily lay on her side, face down with raven hair splayed out around her. He hesitates as he turns her onto her back. She is still for a moment before she coughs. It's a watery unpleasant cough, clearly a sign of internal injury of some sort. I call for an ambulance while finding it impossible to take my eyes off of the sight.
She has been shot, at least twice possibly three times. She has a laceration on the side of her neck, near but not severing the carotid, that extends to her collar bone. She's bleeding and struggling to breathe, but she is alive. I rush over to help Derek stem any of the bleeding that he can't do himself. His hand is pressing against the wound on her neck. He is talking to her and I don't think he is completely aware of my presence. She is struggling to stay conscious, I'm amazed she has been able to so far.
"Em, hold on. You're going to be all right."
She tries to talk but can't. Her body is weakening.
"Please, Em. Don't leave me again."
At some point Rossi, Reid and Seaver had also entered the south building but I hadn't noticed. The paramedics push past and ask us to step aside. I give them their space and Morgan is reluctant, but steps aside. He doesn't ask but goes with them in the ambulance. It makes no difference to me. If he had asked, I would have allowed him to go anyway.
No one seems to know what to say as we observe the scene before us. Ian Doyle lay in a pool of his own blood. Rossi hands me a towel and for a split second I forgot why he would. My hands are covered in Emily's blood. Once again my mind flickers to Haley.
"It looks like she shot him from her position on the ground," Reid announces as he continues to take in the layout of the area.
Seaver chimes in, "It looks like he knocked her down and was coming in to finish her off when she took her chance…"
She looks a little nervous about her theory. Not that it was wrong, it wasn't, but she was afraid it still might come true. Reid walks around to get another view of the scene. He won't say anything about it now, but I can tell he's worried as well. We all are.
Rossi takes the reins when he senses my hesitation, "Reid, you and Seaver go back to the BAU. Inform Garcia, call the Ambassador, and get started on the paperwork and press release. We all know there will be a lot of questions about this one. Hotch and I will stay with the scene until forensics can get here."
Reid and Seaver walk away before Rossi turns toward me, "You have got to stop dwelling on ghosts, Aaron."
"I'm not dwelling, just remembering. No harm in that."
"There is if you are doing it to prepare yourself for a new one."
He reaches for his phone to call for forensics. I take another look at the scene. He's right, I shouldn't be preparing for a ghost. If this crime scene itself isn't enough proof that Emily Prentiss is a fighter, I don't know what is. She won't go down easily.
Chpt. 4 could happen today or in a day or so. It depends on how much time I have to spare/how much time I'm willing to procrastinate from schoolwork.