Emily's not sure she's ever been so grateful to see JJ in her life. She's not sure if it's because everything about her interaction with Hotch has left her unsteady of if it's because there is something utterly comforting in having her best friend so close. And obviously informed.

"And here I thought I'd be telling you things you didn't already know," JJ says, bringing up six pictures. Emily hears the collective gasp that ripples through the team. Her picture is there, and it makes everything in go cold and remote.

"Em?"

Derek's voice sounds like it's so very, very far away. Emily doesn't realize she's stepped up beside JJ until she's facing a bunch of confused and betrayed faces.

"JTF-12 was a special taskforce set up to monitor terrorism," she says, her voice stiff and matter-of-fact.

Dave's eyes are narrow, but the rest of his face is blank. She's surprisingly grateful for it as he says, "They were profiling terrorists."

JJ nods. "The taskforce was set up after 9/11. The CIA and other Western agencies contributed their best and brightest."

"How does Doyle fit in?" Emily's known Reid long enough to catch the reined in emotions in his voice.

Emily looks back at the screen, at the six people that had once been her team, her support, her backup, her everything. "He was our last case."

Her eyes dark from Jeremy's face, to Sean's. Her life, her past, spread all out like she's a victim. Everything she'd tried to keep dead and buried after Lauren's death is now a buffet of information haunting her like a ghost. She thinks maybe she knows how Derek felt all those years ago when they'd had to dig through his life with a fine-toothed comb.

"And now the JTF is on his hit list."

It's said without emotion, but the tension in the room ratchets up another notch with JJ's statement.

"Jeremy Wolff was victim number one, with Germany's BND," JJ says, separating the picture from the rest of the pack. "Seam McCallister at Interpol was the second. He's the on who brought the JTF in to work the Doyle case. He was murdered last week in Brussels with his wife and daughter. Then there's Tsia Mosley of France's DCRI. She got engaged to Jeremy earlier this year. After he died, she fled to DC."

It's the first time Emily feels her resolve crack and she chances a glance at Hotch. He's settled at the table beside Dave and his gaze is steady on her, steady and strong. She breathes.

"And team leader Clyde Easter, who was also in DC but has fallen off the grid. He hasn't checked in and no one can find him."

Emily's breath shakes as she releases it, but Hotch is right there in her field of vision, regarding her calmly even ask he asks, "Did the JTF make the arrests?"

"No," Emily replies, even shakes her head. "The host countries handled that. We'd move on to the next case."

"If all you did was deliver a profile," Hotch goes on, his voice careful, like he knows the answer to his next question isn't going to be one he's going to like. "How does Doyle even know about you?"

Her hands shake as she folds them in front of her in an effort to keep them still. "Considering the shadowy nature of terrorist cells, we used a skill the BAU doesn't: infiltration."

"Lauren Reynolds is dead," Reid says, meeting her gaze over the page Emily assumes is the list of people present at Ian's French villa the day he was arrested. "You said that, seventeen days ago. You were undercover on Doyle."

Emily breaks Reid's gaze. She has to. He, like Derek, feels betrayed in a way she gets it. It's a huge piece of her life, of her personality that they know nothing about. They're not wrong, but Emily knows they're not right either. Not by a mile.

Look, she's not ashamed of what they'd done. Maybe she wishes the 'how' had been different, but her JTF team had been good people doing good work. She is damned proud of that, even if this particular case comes with a mind-boggling number of emotional complications.

"She fit his type," JJ breaks in, her voice hard and carrying a note of defensiveness. Emily offers her a small smile.

"I made contact with him in Boston," the brunette offers, forcing herself to treat this like a debrief. It's the only way to keep the panic at bay, to keep from stopping and remembering that every little piece of information she gives them on Ian Doyle can get them killed just that much faster. "I was posing as another arms dealer. My job was to get information on Valhalla."

"How did you get to Doyle as part of your cover?" Derek asks slowly, warily. He'll never forgive her, not for this, for the lies, even by omission. Which means there's no way in hell he's ever going to come close to that given what she knows she's about to share. Anger sparks with sadness and grief because he has no right to judge her for her history, for the job she'd done. Doyle's case had been a classic honeypot mission, tried and true spy craft.

And it had worked.

The tone says he already has a guess, they all do, but Emily fortifies herself for the answer, for the backlash. "The easiest tactic was romance," she says. "I had to seduce him."