"For all his bluster, it is the sad province of Man that he cannot choose his triumph. He can only choose how he will stand when the call of destiny comes... hoping that he'll have the courage to answer."
Tim Kring


Previously.

"Mac." His voice was kind, even though he wanted to demand to know what on earth was going on.

His head snapped in the direction the voice came from and Hotch could read the relief washing over McCallisters face as he immediately extended his hand. "Hotch. Thank you so much for coming. And your team," He added after looking over Hotch' shoulder, "thank you. We need all the help we can get."

There was a short pause and McCallister swallowed and pointed at the entrance. "I'm sure you have figured out by now that the photo's we sent you weren't originals." Hotch nodded. "I'm sorry. I just couldn't take the risk, I didn't want anyone else figuring out yet. The crime scene has been secure since we got the call, nobody's been there yet, not even the crime guys, so please, be careful."

"What's going on Mac?" Hotch asked him, frowning and not understanding.

McCallister sighed and ran his hand over his mouth and chin. "He's back, Hotch."

There was something in the way he said it, something in the look in his eyes that immediately struck a nerve with Hotch. He did the calculations in his head; they had worked together on one case only.

An unsolved one.


February sixth.
Same day.
Sunday.
13.44

"Who's back?" Prentiss asked right away. She switched her deep glances from Hotch to McCallister as Hotch put things together.

"The Christian Killer." Her boss said without emotion.

"That's impossible." Prentiss piped. Her eyes were wide. "He died five years ago."

"Wait, hang on, who is the Christian Killer?" JJ had put her hands in front of her chest as if saying 'stop' and tried to make sense of what she was hearing.

"Come on." McCallister gestured for Hotch and his team to walk into the building so they could talk more privately and away from any 'overhearing ears'.

An Atlanta police officer lifted the yellow crime scene tape and nodded at the SCU agent. McCallister guided them towards a staircase going down, all the while remaining silent, and eventually, following a long and grey and blue hallway, stopped in front of a door that read 'Garage entrance'. He looked up at the BAU team, his face saddened and grim. Then he looked at Hotch. "Do you wish to do the introductions?"

Before he talked, Hotch shared a knowing look with his equal and turned to his team. "The Christian Killer is the case we worked on together, twelve years ago. It was one of my first major cases." He said half-heartedly. As if it was supposed to mean anything. "We profiled him to be a man around his thirties, strongly religious, organized, disciplined, cold and calculated. He would take 14 to 15 year old girls, all blondes, and keep them for a total of seven days. Altogether, he abducted eighteen girls - only six survived."

"What did he do to them?" Prentiss asked softly.

"Mostly, he talked to them." McCallister said. "From what we could gather from the survivors, he kept them strapped onto a table, fed them, gave them water and preached. Some he would cut, mostly when they 'misbehaved', as he called it. He would beat them occasionally, but he was the kind that left the mental scars."

"The worst kind." Rossi commented gravely. He had been familiar with the case.

"Why did they call him the Christian Killer?" JJ wanted to know. She eyed her supervisor carefully, not sure if she really wanted to know.

"There were heavy religious aspects present. The fact that he would preach to them, tell them about God, he read the Bible to them and attempted to drown them in holy water."

"Attempted?" Prentiss almost spat out.

"We think it was more of a cleansing ritual." McCallister elaborated. "He would also carve a cross on the foreheads of those he killed. He dismembered the bodies and buried to body parts at several different locations, all marked with a small, wooden cross."

Hotch was silent for a moment. "You have to understand, the Christian Killer is whole different sort of serial killer. He didn't take those girls for sex or power or to satisfy his own needs."

"He wanted to create the perfect victim." Morgan put things together before Hotch could speak. "He wanted them to be victims for the rest of their lives. He wanted victims that would last his entire life, so they would always be his victims."

"He's the most dominant and controlling killer I've ever seen. The care and detail he put into his abductions, the kills, the survivors. This was pretty much his destiny." The older man said to Morgan, confirming his earlier words. This wasn't just any serial killer.

"But Prentiss just said the Christian Killer died." JJ responded.

"We have never caught him, nor have we been able to officially identify him." McCallister explained. "Five years ago, Atlanta PD was called to a deadly car accident. Inside, they found a forty-seven year old man, a Bible and a necklace that once belonged to Tamara Rice. She was his fifth victim. She didn't survive. We assumed that he could be the Christian Killer and the press got wind of it. They said that he was indeed the Christian Killer and thus concluded that he was dead. People believed it but we've never been able to absolutely confirm that. The victim, Jacob Howard, he was a local priest and according to his neighbours, kept to himself. We weren't able to completely match the profile to Howard." McCallister added. "But there were strong indications."

"Why did he stop?" Morgan asked.

Hotch shrugged. "We don't know. He took his last girl and disappeared. Zoe Price was his last victim. She was never found."

"So, what makes you think that he's back?" Rossi, with his deep and penetrating stare, looked at McCallister and observed him grabbing a plastic bag from his pocket. Inside, there was a note and he showed it to the team as Rossi read the words out loud.

"I've got my darlings Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. Saturday is close. Agents McCallister and Hotchner, I want my Sunday back. I will have my darling back.

Welcome to the Conquest."


February sixth.
Same day.
Sunday.
13.59

"Hotch, that note is too personal." Rossi argued with his supervisor. Hotch tried to ignore him as they walked through the parking lot towards the crime scene. The last resting place of three SCU agents. What a hell of a way to die. "He knows you and McCallister by name, he knows you worked together. I don't like this."

Abruptly, Hotch stopped and turned to look at Rossi. "What do you want me to do? Walk away? I can't. I have to solve this case. He made it personal. It's the first time he's contacting law enforcement and he left enough clues to pursue different leads."

"Saturday and Sunday?" Rossi replied sarcastically.

"Today is Sunday." Reid said casually. Rossi glanced in his direction. McCallister caught his look.

"Everything means something to the Christian Killer, even the smallest details or circumstances. Evelyn Parker and Zoe Price, his last two victims? Evelyn was taken and released on a Saturday. Zoe was taken on Sunday." McCallister added in Hotch' defence. There were new leads.

"One girl lived, the other was never found. Where is Evelyn Parker now?" Rossi questioned.

"She still lives in Atlanta. I already sent a squad car to pick her up."

"So you've got Saturday. You can't find Sunday, because she's dead. You said it yourself, you never found her."

"She could still be alive." Hotch said stubbornly. "For all we know, he's kept her all these years. Perhaps he found his perfect victim and he kept her. It would explain why he stopped after her. It's possible that she escaped and he's looking to get her back." His voice sounded almost hopeful.

"Hotch, he released his victims if he wanted them to be released. How many girls are there that are still alive but haven't been found?" Rossi shot back.

The other agent sighed and rubbed his forehead. "None. Either we found at least parts of them, or they were still alive."

"So Zoe Price is dead. Hotch, I read the case file. I know what I'm talking about."

"You weren't there, Dave." Came the bitter reply.

"You're right. But Zoe Price is the only girl that was taken on a Sunday, right? That you haven't found her, or anybody else in the past twelve years, most likely means she's dead. What other leads do you have besides Saturday?" Rossi said the nickname cynically. As if people could be degraded to a day of the week.

"The note still doesn't mean anything." Morgan suddenly commented and shrugged when he received the looks. "There's no proof that it is indeed the Christian Killer."

David McCallister, whom had been silently listening to Rossi's argument, suddenly started to walk with angry steps and turned around the pillar. He stopped, turned to the team and held an attitude that said 'say that again'. The team followed and once they turned the concrete pillar, they were stopped dead in their tracks by a car and two corpses in the front seats.

The red cross carved into their foreheads was impossible to miss.

McCallister sighed again before he spoke. He sounded somewhat angry, like it had been bottled up. At times, he gritted through his teeth. "We never released the carving of the cross to the press. Nobody can access the Christian Killer case files without the permission of both me and the director of the FBI and even if they did, we kept that detail out of public records to make sure that we would know the second it was really him. Fuck, I've read some official FBI reports that even didn't mention it. None of the survivors knew about his signature, so it didn't come from them either. Further more, we found three small, wooden crosses. He left the crosses of the girls-" He stopped midsentence and swallowed "in their laps and Pinõ's cross was lying close to his body. There is no way in hell that someone could know this kind of information. This is not a copycat. Hotch." He waited until the man called upon met his eyes.

"He's back."

Morgan, followed closely by Reid, was circling the car and studying every little detail his keen eye could see.

"There's no security footage." Prentiss said, holding her notebook. She and JJ just talked to the parking attendant.

"He most likely disabled the camera that covers this area exactly since all other cameras are still intact." The blonde added.

"So he must have found a way in and out without being seen but even if we could have seen him on camera, that didn't matter. We weren't, however, allowed to see this. Why?" Hotch concluded as he stared at the two dead agents in the black SUV. The fact that they were still there, four hours after being shot to death, was slightly disturbing but Hotch was glad McCallister decided not to move the bodies. It enabled them to see the whole picture, as gruesome as that might be.

"So he came from the left," Morgan started, his back towards the front of the car. "He walked up, rounded the pillar and took his shot."

"Some shots, he hit them both right where he wanted." Prentiss grimaced.

"Perfect shooting abilities." The dark man said. "However, he wasn't fast enough to shoot Ricardo Pinõ. He's older now. Pinõ opened the door and got to the side of the car." Morgan told the story from the evidence. He walked around the car again and stopped in front of Cuba's body. "He was making a call, probably leant forward to try and see something when the Unsub walked around the back of the car and surprises him from behind. He shoots him in the chest, twice, places the crosses and leaves."

Reid squatted down next to Cuba's body and, with a gloved hand, grabbed the cell phone. "That's odd. He didn't call 911. In fact, he called a number that wasn't even in his contact list."

"That is weird." Morgan commented as Reid stood up and both men looked at the cell phone.

"So, your partners are down, you're getting shot at and you call an unknown number?" Prentiss summed it up with clear confusion in her voice.

"That doesn't make sense." JJ said. "Could he have entered the wrong number?"

"There are enough digits to be an actual number." Morgan told her mumbling. He tried to ignore the voice in the back of his head that told him he knew what this smelled of and that he didn't like it.

"Get Garcia to figure out who he was calling." Hotch ordered but suspiciously eyed his team when nobody moved. McCallister was, finally in character, and on his phone. The crime scene guys would be allowed in and the coroner would be asked to remove the bodies with the most care and most dignity she could come up with.

"I don't like this Hotch." Morgan softly spoke to his supervisor, his shoulder positioned away from the scene to try and create some private space.

Hotch didn't look at the man and instead, had his eyes fixed on the actions of the coroners. "I don't either. There's something wrong with this."

"He kills three SCU agents just to leave a note for McCallister and you? The McCallister part is the part I get, but why you? You're not related to the SCU in anyway, and still he's contacting you through them?"

"We're missing a link." Hotch nodded. "We need the two remaining SCU agents."

Morgan only stared at him and failed to get an opportunity to reply. McCallister marched towards the pair and caught the attention of the rest of the team.

"That was the squad unit I had sent to pick up Evelyn Parker. There was no one at the house." He paused and the silence pressed on their shoulders. "There was a stack of mail from a few days behind the door and neighbours stated that they hadn't seen her in at least five days."

"Saturday is close." Rossi quoted softly. He carefully looked up, an apologetic crack around his mouth. "I'm afraid that it's a good possibility you'll find his first five survivors already dead, Mac."

McCallister nodded, staring down at the phone in his hand. "I sent out unmarked cars and squads to their addresses the moment this happened. None were at home."

The air fell silent and foreboding.


February sixth.
Same day.
Sunday.
14.38

He was too quiet for his liking. He had known the younger man for over 4 years now and he had never known him to be this quiet. With worry lines covering his gentle face, he looked at him as he stopped for a red light. He seemed too impersonal. Sighing, he decided to try and talk to him, betting against the odds of getting his head bitten off.

"You okay?"

Reid didn't reply. Instead, he looked outside the car window, his right elbow propped up against the door and his head resting on his fist.

Morgan sighed again. "I know, kid. I know."

"Have you talked to her?" The young genius suddenly asked. He didn't look at his colleague.

"No. I haven't." Morgan admitted.

"Have you tried?"

There was no hint of judgement in his voice. So Morgan decided to bite. "No." Pause. "Have you?"

Reid was silent again.

"Reid." Morgan started. He had pulled up after the light went green again and continued driving towards the SCU Headquarters. "I'm worried about you." He admitted, glaring at his partner whenever he could. "I think we all are."

"I called her." Reid said softly, almost whispering. "I left her about a dozen messages. She didn't call me back. At first, I thought she just, I don't know. Grieved. And then I figured she was busy. But she never called me back, or replied to my messages. I guess she just doesn't want to talk to me anymore."

"Reid. At lot of things happened. We threw her life upside down and certain things came up that I'm sure she didn't want to come up like they did. Perhaps she's just sorting things out herself."

"Oh yeah." Reid suddenly sounded defensive. "I'm sure that's why her phone was disconnected two weeks ago. Or why she deleted her email account. She doesn't want anything to do with us anymore, Morgan. With me, anyway."

The brakes made little noise as Morgan stopped in front of a building he didn't want to see for a long time. The last time you were here, she was still at your side. Or should I say, on your side?

"I'm sorry." Morgan replied weakly.

"So am I." The genius responded harshly and hurriedly stepped out of the car, marching towards the HQ. Morgan watched him for a brief moment before following him.

Oh Abby, oh Abby. What have you done?


February sixth.
Same day.
Sunday.
14.51

If buildings had the ability to grieve, the SCU Headquarters was right at the start of it. There hung an uncanny silence between the walls and the air was thick and solemn. The place seemed darker, almost as if the structures itself were trying to hide in the shadows and wallow in their despair. The small coffee and sandwich shop on his right was closed, the owner standing in front of it as she talked to three agents. She looked shocked - an impression that would likely stay on her face for a while, as if wearing make-up that she couldn't take off.

The team walked up the stairs, following a broken leader that wore his soul under his arm. They passed the 'Wall of Fame' and each of the members of Hotch' team must have thought that soon, there would be more pictures upon that wall and unwillingly, they didn't dare to look. As McCallister took point again, guiding the BAU team through the large front room of the SCU, agents of the Special Crime Unit, the pride and glory of Atlanta, stopped whatever it was they were doing and their eyes followed the eight FBI agents that in respected silence, entered the glass room. Team One's primary room. Where Wills, Pinõ, Lewis, Bronckovic, Abby and all those other fallen ones had studied the dead, observed their prey and put the pieces of the puzzle together to catch Atlanta's most notorious offenders.

As soon as the team had entered, McCallister closed the door behind them and pressed the switch next to it. Hotch looked around. He had seen the magic of the Glass Room from the other side, as he observed Abby Scott looking at her team before they disappeared behind a screen of matte glass, but being actually inside of the room as it happened, was something that temporarily took his mind of the doomed task beforehand. The Glass Room was something unique and impressive as it held all the latest technology that limited the possibilities to almost endless. A system fast and powerful, tweaked by great computer scientists like Milo Bronckovic, tuned in to the SCU's desires and demands. Hotch had heard a rumour that they even created a speed dial key that, once the command was either physically or vocally entered, it would order of the team's favourite pizza's. The large and imposing flat screen that hung upon the wall, almost as if being a beamer screen, held the best optic imaging there was. But, as Abby had explained to them, the true magic of the 'Glass Room' was put into the glass walls that divided the room from the rest of the building. The glass walls were made of SPD Smart Glass windows and by pressing a switch or giving the command, electric pulses were send to the suspended particle devices which allowed the glass turn matte.

A journalist had once described the SCU as 'the shadows that protected dear Atlanta'. After believing for years that expression was very much over the top just like pretty anything else in this former factory was, Hotch finally understood what the man had meant by that. Being behind the matte glass morphed them into mere shadows and allowed whoever was in the room to work in complete privacy. Hotch, knowing the SCU's reputation, wasn't sure if that was always a good thing. Under the command of Trevor Harrison, rules had the tendency to be bent to match the team's desire. And still, also knowing the cases they worked on and the way that the SCU worked, Hotch could understand the demand for privacy.

McCallister cleared his throat as each member of the BAU took a short moment to take in the adjustment of their surroundings. "This room is at your fullest command. Miss Garcia," He looked at the blonde technical analyst, "you should have full access to our files. If there is anything you need or need to be done, just let any SCU agent know and we'll get it done. Though I'm sure you'll be able to work your way around the system." McCallister added with a small smile.

"Thank you." Garcia said kindly and sat down and got ready for battle.

"There is something you should know before we start." Mac said, his voice suddenly more serious. The team casted their eyes upon him. "There's more than just an order of privacy in this room by shielding this room with matte glass. Team One, they always entered this room under a code. What happened in this room, would stay in this room. It allowed them complete honesty and for years, that honesty and openness with each other allowed them to catch their Unsubs. To them, this was a sacred place. I only ask that you respect their code, even though they are no longer here."

"Of course." Hotchner immediately replied with a soft voice. But as his eyes were kept on the SCU leader, he knew there was more to what McCallister just told them.

"Now, I need to know if my other agents are in danger." Mac asked to the point, not just yet allowing Hotch, or anybody else, into the hidden meaning behind his previously spoken words.

Hotch glanced at his team. It was an untold cue for them to start their minds and work their own abilities.

It was Rossi who spoke first and his voiced sounded like he had come to his conclusion some time ago already. "This was a direct, premeditated hit on several members of your primary team." He answered in a low tone. "I would suggest gathering the rest of Team One, if only just to be safe."

Hotch kept his eyes peeled on the fellow leader in the room and his head tilted back as soon as he understand what was going on. McCallister didn't reply. Instead, he closed his eyes, nodded and looked back up.

"You don't know where she is." Hotch remarked. He now fully realised the importance of McCallister's need to keep everything spoken of within those four walls. Understanding the gravity of that, several heads snapped at the two leaders.

Mac looked at Garcia. "Would you mind pulling up Frankie's file?"

Garcia nodded and started typing. Within seconds, she had the requested file under her fingers and the flat screen upon the wall came alive. Abby's picture and personnel file appeared before them. Garcia successfully fought the urge to squeal. "Enter the search command 122620100830."

Garcia did as she was asked and a video file opened and started playing. It showed Abby standing in front of Fulton Police Department in the middle of the Five Points district. The time stamp in the right lower corner showed that she stood there for about a minute, made phone call and then walked away.

"This is the last time we saw Frankie. She disappeared after walking away here and no one has seen her since." McCallister elaborated.

"Not even Bronckovic?" Rossi asked, having seen the strength of their friendship as he interviewed Bronckovic after his fiancé's body had been found in the trunk of the SUV Reid and Abby were in.

"Not that I'm aware of." Mac answered truthfully. "There are ways we can get a message out to her, tell her to report right in, but I'm not sure if she'll get those messages on time." He continued, referring to the fact that Padre and his Wild Bunch, a group of homeless people 'owning' the corner right across Fulton PD, would know how to get in touch with Abby.

"Do we know who she called?" Prentiss asked.

Mac nodded. "Yeah, she called me. She didn't say anything. Though, I have to be honest, I didn't really give her a chance. I just picked up, told her she should report to my office the following morning, where I'd have her badge and her gun ready for her and we'd talk about everything else tomorrow. Next morning, I get to my office, her badge isn't there and neither is her gun. She left me a note saying 'Sorry boss, really need this. Will explain later, don't have time. Don't leave Atlanta'." He glanced around the room. "Yeah, it didn't make sense to me either. I figured, oh I've known Frankie for a while know, she'll be over at Miles', reconcile, get drunk stupid and I'd be getting a call that they've been arrested again for stealing a squad car, or to pick them up from some police station where they're sleeping off their hangovers. Few days passed, I heard nothing, I called Miles and he says that he hadn't talked to her. By then, it was too late to anything about it so I just, kept my eyes and ears open and prayed that she wouldn't turn up dead."

"What about Bronckovic?" Hotch questioned.

"I already called him, he's on his way."

"Good. Do you think the SCU is able to locate Abby?" McCallister nodded at Hotch. "It would allow us to completely focus on the case." Hotch avoided the words 'death team member's case'. He wasn't sure what to call it yet, either.

"Of course." McCallister responded. "I'll get the teams right on it. And I'll have them find Evelyn Parker and the other girls as well."

"Good. There are a lot of things missing right now, things that don't make sense or don't add up. It's important that we start to gather all the pieces of the puzzle. I think it would be best if you helped us with our case though." Hotch told him gently. "That is, if you're up to it."

McCallister smiled weakly. "Agent Hotchner, with all due respect." He stepped closer and anyone in the room was suddenly confronted with a man that looked like he was a good leader, strong and independent and righteous, but had two faces. McCallister suddenly was the type of man that you didn't want to cross paths with when you had done him wrong – intimidating, fierce, powerful. JJ instinctively understood how McCallister had arranged Frankie's transfer to the BAU – because he was like that. Nice and smooth to the surface, hard and adamant to the bone. He was the kind of guy that if he said something, he'd get it done.

"That man kidnapped eighteen girls and killed twelve, two of which he took right from underneath our noses. Now he's back and as his psychotic comeback, he murders three of my best agents in an as good as empty parking lot, degrading them to nothing but ordinary homicide victims. Not even the fucking president would be able to take me of this case." There was a moment of silence as Hotch and McCallister came to an unuttered agreement. "I'll talk to my other teams, if Frankie and his previous victims are out there, they'll find them."

Hotch nodded and with that, McCallister excused himself from the room.

Hotch turned to his team and was about to speak, his mouth already opened, when someone interrupted his attempt.

"Hotch." Reid's voice caused the eyes in the room to look at him. JJ worriedly covered her mouth, fearing what her favourite person would say. Prentiss and Rossi shared a look and Morgan inaudibly sighed. But Hotch could see something on the young man's face that he hadn't seen in a while and waited in silence as Reid stepped forward.

"We're going to get this guy." He suddenly said and was met with surprised looks. "We're going to get him and we're going to bring him to justice."

Without words, Hotch thanked the genius for having the ability to notice things that even the trained eye had trouble seeing. He thanked him for understanding the severity of this case and what it meant to him, without knowing the facts or anything else for that matter. Reid simply had understood that this case had been extremely personal to Hotch and now, instead of fighting his team like he had done since the moment his friend and fellow genius got arrested for murder, it was Reid that stepped up and showed him full support. But most importantly, Hotch wordlessly thanked Reid for finally being fully on Hotch' side and wanting this man caught for Hotch' sake and not for Abby's. Hotch liked to compare the couple to the world's nastiest break-up, even though Reid and Abby had never been and would probably never be romantically involved. And still the parting of the two resembled a deadly divorce and Hotch understood that at this moment, Reid finally allowed the scars to start healing and overcome his own, personal tragedy. Hotch nodded and accepted the fact that Reid, at last, entered the final stage of grief.

"JJ." Hotch regained the composure he had lost for a few seconds as he mentally talked to Reid, and his voice was in its usual stern sound again. "I want everything there is on the Christian Killer, every original part of the case. Everything on the crime scenes, every note, every thought. I want to know who in the last thirteen years has accessed or tried to access his file. Garcia?"

"I'm on it boss-man!" Garcia said loudly, not needing instructions.

"Rossi and Prentiss, go back to the crime scene and take a good look at Will's apartment. Profile everything you see. Before you go, instruct whichever team will go to Evelyn Parker's home and tell them what they need to look for. Morgan, you and I will go through Team One's case files. There has to be a reason why the Christian Killer came back after all these years and why he targeted Wills, Lewis and Pinõ specifically. Reid," Hotch turned to look at him, "that note he sent-"

"On it." Reid replied quickly and added a small smile.

His troops displaced, scattered over the battlefield in search of loyalty, armour, weapons, nameless faces and answers. Even though they weren't ready, even though they had wounds of their own that still needed time to heal, they were all ready for a case they knew, would be the most important one of their lives.

And thus, this is how we go to war.


"And if ye go to war in your land against the enemy that oppresseth you, then ye shall blow an alarm with the trumpets; and ye shall be remembered before the Lord your God, and ye shall be saved from your enemies."
Bible, 10:9