Chapter 13

"Many of those who are humiliated are not humble. Some react to humiliation with anger, others with patience, and others with freedom. The first are culpable, the next harmless, the last just."
― Bernard of Clairvaux

July 10, 2014

"How long have you been working for my mother?" asked Emily.

"What!?" asked Hotch.

"That first picture never made any sense. If Jacob had been working alone, he would have had no reason to make that picture so innocent. My mother is the only common connection and I can tell by the look on your face, Jacob, that I'm right," said Emily.

"I knew you and your friends would follow the clues, find me and figure it out, Scout. I planned on that."

"How long, Jacob?" asked Emily bitterly.

"Why don't we all sit down? It's a very long story." Jacob chose one of the sitting chairs and stared at the group. "Sit, please. I mean you no harm. I know you don't know me, but I feel like I know you and I know Emily loves you all. I would never hurt you. And Penelope, dear, you can stop typing. I've no doubt you can get into anything I have on my computers eventually, but there's no need; you've done enough good work today, and I will give you all anything you want."

Penelope removed her hands from the keyboard and stared at Jacob. Emily took a deep breath and sat down on the edge of the couch so she was directly across from Jacob, placing her gun on the arm of the couch. The other team members followed her lead and took seats as well, Derek dropping down next to Emily and reaching for her hand.

Hotch commanded, "Tell us, Jacob."

"When your mother kicked me out of the house that night so many years ago, I returned to the New York and quickly found a way to put my talents for electronics to use. At first I was working for a small, legitimate private investigation firm, but some darker people approached me and made me a monetary offer I couldn't refuse. I was twenty-two years old and naive. Soon, I found myself as a spy for hire, and I must admit I did terrible things and invaded the private lives of many people, some of them probably good, but all of them the enemies of the people who found me and hired me.

Through various channels I learned that your family was returning to the states. I found you easily and I checked up on you from afar," he said, gesturing to the pictures from Emily's high school and college days.

"Why didn't you approach me, Jacob? I would have welcomed you back into my life with open arms. I searched for you for a long time," said Emily.

"By then I was doing so many awful things. I never felt terrible about the work I did until I saw you and realized how ashamed you'd be of me. I couldn't contact you, and I contented myself just keeping an eye on you from time to time. Then in 1995, I was caught spying on a very wealthy and powerful man in Mexico. I was working for one cartel family and the man I was tracking was its competitor. The job should have been simple, but my counterparts were careless, and I was left shouldering the blame. I rotted away in deplorable conditions for two years and then one day I was released." Jacob paused to take a breath.

"My mother got you out," said Emily flatly.

"Yes. She'd learned what I'd been up to since I left her home and was interested in my expertise. She used her connections to get me released and hired me to work for her. There were certain conditions; not having contact with you was one of them. I felt trapped but did as I was asked, knowing the alternative was the hell in Mexico. With my help, your mother experienced the most coveted assignments for a decade. I would monitor other people who were in consideration for certain appointments, dig up scandalous information, and she would make sure that information got to the right connections in the political world."

Emily turned to look at the team for a moment. They all sat in rapt silence. Hotch caught her eye and she knew he was thinking about Emily's distaste for politics.

"And then? What happened in 2006? That's obviously when your focus switched to Emily," said JJ.

"As with anything, connections dry up. People get old, retire or die, and your mother found fewer and fewer people who were interested in her scandalous findings. The new people coming into the political arena did not seem to care for her and had no connection to her. Your mother found herself rather forgotten. And she turned bitter. With little political power, she focused that bitter energy on the one person she'd always focused it on. You, Emily."

Emily squeezed Derek's hand before letting go, and then clasped her hands together, resting her elbows on her knees and leaning forward.

"Why didn't you come to me at that point? I was working for the FBI and I could have helped you."

"I thought about it. I even threatened your mother with that very idea. She had considerable evidence of the crimes I'd committed for her for nearly ten years and had been careful with her own part in it all. I feared the moment I approached you, your mother would and could claim that I was making it up to get back at her, and that I would end up either in a US prison, or worse, back in Mexico. She then told me that there were plenty of other people who could do what she wanted done. She asked would I rather it be me or one of them who was spying on you, Scout. I took the lesser evil. I felt like I could protect you partially by doing this." Jacob paused again to let his words sink in.

"Go on," said Derek through his teeth.

"Your mother wanted information on anything scandalous you did. She hoped you'd have success and gain power, rise through the ranks, so that she could use whatever I found to blackmail you so you would help her have political standing again. I was to follow you, set up cameras in your home, and give her daily reports. She never had any faith in you, my dear, and she convinced herself it was only a matter of time before you'd make an error in judgment and she could use it to her advantage. Her plan really had no merit and made no sense, but hate can blind a person's intellect faster than anything else.

October 19, 2007 rolled around. I had already written in my reports that you and Mr. Morgan seemed to be growing closer in the months leading up to that date and she was foaming at the mouth in anticipation. I was able to keep that night private for you, Scout, but it was one of the few times I got away with it. I was at the bar that evening and snapped the picture of you both on the dance floor. I knew what was likely to happen next. I raced home and turned on the video feed in your apartment…"

Derek growled out, "Bastard."

Jacob looked at Derek and continued, "I turned on the video feed and had my suspicions confirmed, then quickly activated a virus in my computer program to shut down the cameras in your apartment that night, so that I had proof of what looked like a computer error should your mother ask. I wrote my report, included the picture of you on the dance floor and regretfully informed your mother that the cameras in your apartment were malfunctioning."

Jacob paused and stood up to stretch, then started pacing around the small area. "This is where this story takes its worst twist, I'm sorry to say. Your mother showed up at my house early the next morning and demanded that I get the cameras back up, that I show her what you were doing right then. She went from bitterness to lunacy after watching that video for a scant minute. She demanded I make a copy of the video for her and she hired an additional spy to make sure I was doing my job. He was the man hired to make sure I was doing my job. He did not have the technical skills necessary to do what I did, but he was dangerous. That was the moment I realized none of this was worth it and I should contact you, but by then your mother had just enough to harm you, so I complied with her wishes.

I was to send the other spy video files, which I did, but in altered and shortened forms. Your mother seemed satisfied with the pictures included in my daily reports. Scout, I promise you, my interest in those videos was only to keep your mother and the other spy at bay. She enjoyed making me be the one who had to do this, instead of me relinquishing control of the viewing to the other spy. She was capable of hurting you, the other spy was ruthless and didn't care about you; It was in your best interest that I continued to do my job and do it well at that point."

"And she never questioned you that you weren't sharing the most graphic images available?" asked Emily.

"Elizabeth Prentiss really does not have a passionate bone in her body for anything besides her own political agenda. In her mind those pictures were lecherous, a sign of weakness on your part, and certainly plenty graphic. I thought your mother's interest would wane over time, but it didn't. She was both obsessed and patient. She couldn't execute her plan until you did what you were supposed to and gain more power and standing. She was not pleased when you left for London; head of an office in London did her little good in the United States. However, she was hopeful that it was a promotion at least and she had me continue monitoring you."

"Why would it matter if Emily was still seeing Morgan when they were no longer co-workers?" asked Hotch.

"It didn't. On some level, Elizabeth knew that. However, by that point I don't think she cared as much about her original plan. She fluctuated between the ideas of using the images for blackmail and using them for humiliation. As I said, hate is a powerful motivator, but not always a sane one. My greatest flaw was including in my daily report that Emily had talked with you, Mr. Hotchner, about possibly returning to the BAU. I thought it innocuous compared to everything else, but she took it as a personal insult. She'd been waiting and hoping for Emily to return to Washington and take a lateral or higher position than she had in London. The fact that Emily was willing to take a step down was not something Elizabeth anticipated. She started formulating a plan to punish Emily."

Emily took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "OK," she said, "Let's fast forward to these past couple of days."

Jacob sat again and rubbed his face, pausing for several seconds before continuing, "I continued to do my job and delivered a report to your mother yesterday evening that included the picture of you and Mr. Morgan at the cabin. Two hours later she showed up here with the other spy. This was not something I expected. I figured if your mother finally got to her end game, I would contact you and deal with the consequences. Instead, I was ensnared in a trap. I was to deliver the pictures to Mr. Hotchner as directed, or the other spy would deliver several DVDs of the recordings he had to Interpol and the FBI. At that point I realized it was a power game, and I was in the least desirable position. Your mother's hate fueled her idea, the other spy made up the rules, and I was the one who had to comply or risk something even more scandalous for you. It was in that moment that I realized your mother's end game did not just include you. She was still punishing me for being kind to you when you were a child. I am very sorry, Scout."

Emily's cheeks flushed hot with her own rage towards her mother.

"So Emily's mother has copies of all of the pictures?" asked Reid.

"She does, my fine young man."

"And the other spy? What all does he have?" asked JJ.

Jacob turned to Emily and stared at her.

"The other spy has nothing," Emily said. "You killed him, didn't you?"

Jacob nodded. "Indeed. It took me until this morning to locate him. I killed him quickly and quietly, and then destroyed all of his data. I had left you the clues and it was time to clean house. I knew you'd find me and this would soon be over, and I wanted nothing left that could damage you."

"Are you going to do the same with my mother? Kill her?" Emily asked quietly.

"No, Scout. Look at all of these pictures on my walls. This is your life and you are so close to being free and happy. But that last step of finally confronting your mother is up to you. It's a most necessary part of your journey, I think."

"You could have ended this in many different ways long ago," Rossi spit out.

"Mr. Rossi, I stopped being a noble man in 1983. My choices may be questionable, but I do believe I was using what control I did have wisely; when I was first hired by Elizabeth, I was working for my own best interests. In 2006, I started working for Emily's best interests, as difficult as that may be to believe."

Emily stood up, seething in anger, not sure if she was more angry with Jacob for what he had done or for what he hadn't; he had made this mess and lived in it for years, but left her with the responsibility of dealing with her mother. They needed to leave, she needed to talk to all of them and formulate a plan.

As if Jacob could read her chain of thoughts, he said, "I called your mother to arrange a meeting as soon as I saw you walking up my front steps. She will be here," Jacob paused to look at his watch, "in about ten minutes. Trust me, Scout, you don't want to confront her at her house; there are too many eyes watching there. This needs to end tonight, and this is the safest place for it."

Emily went from pure anger to blind panic in a fraction of a second. All of her carefully maintained control shattered at the idea of her mother coming there, where everyone she truly loved was standing. "You all need to leave. We need to wipe this place of any prints so you can't be tied to any of this and you need to leave before my mother gets here," Emily cried in alarm.

"No way, Em," said Derek, "that is not about to happen."

"The last time you tried to protect us like this it didn't work out very well, Emily," said JJ. "I'm not going anywhere." The rest of the team nodded in agreement.

"This is different. My mother doesn't want to kill me; she wants to ruin me. I'm not in danger of dying, but I don't want you caught in the middle of what might happen here tonight. I don't want you on her radar."

"Scout, remember, I want no part of your confrontation with your mother. That is your story and your choice. I understand the concerns of this fine group of people, however. Might I suggest they go in my hidden room with me? They'll be able to watch everything on camera and only be a step away should you need them. As far as wiping things down go, the first rule to not getting caught is to either leave no trace to begin with, or to leave the evidence where it is and find a reasonable story. If neither is an option, it's best to leave it to the professionals to do the cleaning."

Jacob walked quickly to his desk and grabbed a folder. "Everyone's past can haunt her," he said, handing her the folder. "I believe you should always choose the solution you can best live with, not tomorrow but a year from now and long into the future," he said, glancing at Emily's hands.

Emily stared at Jacob, absorbing his words, understanding something for the first time. She regained her composure.

Reid whispered, "Emily," in a worried tone.

"Reid," she said with determination, "I've got this." Reid looked at her for a moment before he looked away and conceded.

"Ok," said Emily, pointing to the secret room, "you all go in there."

"I should stay with you," said Hotch. "It will deflate her quickly if she sees me on your side."

"You absolutely should not. I love you all and I appreciate your concern, but this is my fight and I need to finish this. I refuse to let you be dragged into this mess anymore." She paused to look at Derek. "Please trust me. I'll be ok."

Derek stepped forward and kissed her. "I trust you. But, Emily, are you sure you don't want me to stay?"

Emily took a deep breath, trying to slow her heart rate, squared her shoulders and stood tall, "I'm sure. Even if the pictures had never happened, I would have needed to confront her eventually. I love you, but I need to do this alone."

Jacob stepped into the secret room and the team walked in, throwing concerned glances at Emily. The door started sliding shut, Derek's beautiful face the last one she saw before she was alone.

She peaked inside the folder, confirming her suspicions, then sat in one of the chairs to wait. Her eyes focused on her hands, one holding the folder, the other holding the gun, frantically searching for the best way to eradicate the final ghost in her closet.