Chapter 18

Hotch's entire body continued to convulse after receiving electrical jolts at five minute intervals every half hour for the past six hours. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead from the sweat that drenched his face. His pulse was so rapid he feared his heart would leap out of his chest. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Hotch had no idea how much more of this he could take before his heart gave out completely and darkness permanently claimed him. He recalled Armitage's warnings, and wondered if his heart had suffered any damage because of the past six hours. He licked his dry lips and tried to calm his breathing as he did his body. The chuckles from nearby caused Hotch to open his eyes a slit.

Jason Armitage sat in a chair at the foot of the table, his elbow resting on the table beside Hotch's left foot. He had been watching the agent convulse. "Something wrong, Aaron?" he asked with an amused grin. Hotch painfully turned his head sideways, trying to focus on Armitage.

"Go. To. Hell," Hotch hissed through gritted teeth in a husky voice. It hurt to even talk. He heard a chuckle. "What is…so…funny?"

"You," Armitage snickered. "After everything, you still don't get it." He smirked and shook his head. "But what galls me the most is your arrogance keeps you from admitting your error in prosecuting me for killing the man who killed my son." His face turned hard and cold. "No matter." The man returned to the small table, and picked up something. With a sigh, Armitage walked back to Hotch and held up the item he had chosen to use. Hotch remained silent staring at the device in Armitage's hand. "I see you recognize this from our last meeting ten years ago, Aaron. But in case you forgot, it's a Heretics fork. I'm sure you remember how painful it can be." Armitage fastened a collar around Hotch's neck, the fork at one end penetrating the flesh under the chin; the fork at the other end penetrating his upper chest. Hotch knew this device would not cause death, but prolong pain. It would also make speech and neck movement nearly impossible. And to make matters worse, he would be forced to hold his head erect or suffer more pain from the fork digging further into his chin and chest. Besides the pain, he now had infection to worry about as well.

The man folded his arms across his chest and looked down at his prisoner. "That should teach you to watch your mouth, Aaron." To add emphasis to his words, Armitage picked up the Tucker phone and cranked the handle again. Hotch's body convulsed from the electrical jolt. The convulsion caused his head to move causing both ends of the fork to dig further into his upper chest and chin. He gritted his teeth in agony. After enduring the electrical jolt for five minutes, Armitage turned off the Tucker phone, but did not disconnect the wires. Hotch ceased moving and went limp. Armitage looked at his watch before pressing two fingers against Aaron Hotchner's throat. The man's breathing was shallow and he had a weak and irregular pulse. He lifted one eyelid, and then the other. Both pupils were unfocused, and the whites of both eyes were bloodshot.

Knowing he had given the man not enough electricity to kill him, Armitage was not concerned, and walked away from the man, leaving him strapped to the table. He figured if Hotch died during the night he would be disappointed. But it wouldn't keep him from the final part of his plan about the disposal of the agent's body. He turned off the remote television set and started toward the door to leave the room. As he stood in the doorway of the room, he paused and looked back at the agent. An amused grin appeared on his face. "I do hope you're still alive in the morning, Aaron," he said. "I need you to be ready for a second day of fun." Chuckling when he didn't receive an answer, Armitage shut off the overhead lights and closed the door leaving Hotch in total darkness.

Sensing he was now alone, Aaron Hotchner swallowed the lump in his throat, and forced his eyes to open and dart around as he couldn't move his head. He grimaced at even that small motion. There wasn't one part of his body that didn't hurt. And he was cold as well. His lower lip trembled and a tear fell from the corners of both eyes. He told himself his team would find and save him before it was too late. But they had no idea where he was much less that it was Jason Armitage who had him. This made him realize he might not make it out alive this time.

Hotch blinked as he thought about Jack, and understood his son would miss him terribly. But he was glad the boy had his mother, and that Haley and the team would make sure Jack didn't forget him. I'm sorry, Jack. I'm trying to hold on and fight. I love you and your mother so much. But I have no idea how much longer I can fight. I'm in so much pain, and I just want it to end. But I promise I will hold out for you as long as there's breath in my body. I promise.

He swallowed again. His thoughts turned to his team. They would take his death hard, especially Rossi and Morgan. Morgan would forever blame himself for not going with him to look for JJ. But there had been no way he could realize JJ had gone outside, and Hotch hadn't told him. But knowing Morgan as he did, Hotch knew the man would blame himself for the rest of his life. And Rossi would grieve for a long time and blame himself for not being able to save him. I'm sorry, Dave. You are my best friend. And for that I will always be grateful. You've also been more like a father than a friend to me. And I will always love you. Don't let grief consume you. Hotch figured he should try and get a little sleep as he understood what awaited him in the morning. He didn't need to know what Armitage had in mind, but he was positive it would involve more pain.

"Help me," he whispered. "Somebody please help me."

The press conference had gone off without a hitch as the saying went. Morgan and Emily both stood close to JJ as she updated not only the members of the media, but members of the SBPD as well, and released the sketch. When it was over, they both marveled at the blond's ability to put aside her discomfort long enough to speak in front of the press and other LEOs. Copies of the sketch had been later handed out to the LEDs after the team updated their profile with Parsons and the others detectives. Afterward, Prentiss handed JJ two aspirin and ordered her to lay down and rest on the couch in the back room. The blond started to argue but when she swayed a bit on her feet, she relented after eliciting a promise from Prentiss to inform her if they found Hotch.

After she let out a deep breath, Prentiss put an arm around the blond's waist and escorted her to the back room. When JJ was safely stretched out on the couch, Emily moistened a washcloth and placed it on the blond's forehead. She waited until JJ closed her eyes before she left the room and quietly closed the door. Prentiss joined the others at the table and noticed Rossi studying the sketch. He looked up when Prentiss sat down across from him.

"How's JJ?" he asked, concern on his face.

"She'll be alright. I promised her we'd come and get her if we find Hotch." Prentiss noticed the look on Rossi's face. "I saw you staring at that sketch. Did you see something?"

Rossi's eyebrows knitted as his eyes narrowed. "I'm not sure. There's something about this face that I can't put my finger on."

Prentiss tossed a strand of hair over her shoulder with her hand. "I said the same thing. I feel like I've seen this face somewhere before but can't figure out where either."

Rossi stroked his beard. "I wonder…."

"What?"

Rossi looked up at Morgan. "Hey Morgan, can Garcia search her computers and do that facial thing?"

Morgan, seated on the edge of a cabinet, looked at Rossi. "Baby girl can do anything you want with those computers of hers. Just tell her what it is you need."

Rossi took his cell phone from inside his jacket and dialed Garcia's phone number. He put the cell on speaker.

"You have reached the office of the Goddess of all that is technical," Garcia replied. "Speak oh mortal and be heard."

"Garcia, do you have that facial thing on your computer?" asked Rossi.

"You mean the facial recognition program? But of course. What do you need?"

"Pull up the photo of Ronald Brandt you sent us, then use the facial recognition program and compare it to images in the database. And get back to us as soon as you can, Garcia. Hotch's life depends on it." The last sentence left his mouth before Rossi remembered nobody had told Garcia Hotch had been taken.

"What happened to Hotch?" Garcia asked with worry in her voice. "And don't lie to me, David Rossi, or you will live to regret it. Now spill."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier. We've been so busy looking…"

Garcia knew when one of her team stalled, especially David Rossi, then the news had to be bad. That didn't take a profiler. She clenched her lower jaw as tears built up in her eyes. "What. Happened. To. Hotch?" she repeated each word separately, her voice husky. "And don't lie to me. Is my fearless leader all right?"

Rossi looked at Morgan silently asking for help delivering the bad news from which he so wanted to protect Garcia. He understood how protective she was of the team, and how much she worried when they were on a case. This news would upset and scare her.

Morgan let out a deep breath. "Baby girl, the Unsub kidnapped Hotch," he explained gently. There was silence on the other end. "Garcia?"

"You'll find our liege, right? I mean, you will find him before…before…" Her lower lip trembled as she bit back a sob. "Before something happens to him, right?" she managed to get out.

"We'll find him alive, baby girl," Morgan hoped he hadn't just lied to the tech analyst.

"I'm going to hold you to that, Derek Morgan," Garcia stammered. "And as for you, David Rossi. You and I will have to have a talk after you've found Hotch and caught this bastard." Garcia felt more tears about to fall. "I'll get back to you asap with what I find. Garcia out." She disconnected the call before anybody could respond.

Rossi sighed and tucked his cell back in his inner pocket. He looked at the others to find them looking at him. He suspected they were all thinking the same thing. "I hope we didn't just lie to Garcia," he said.

Garcia, seated at her bank of computer screens, slid a hand under her red and pink eyeglass frames and wiped at her eyes with her fingertips. All she could think about right now was Hotch. She prayed he was still alive. Her fingers flew over her keyboard while at the same time trying to get control of her emotions. It would not do right now for her to fall apart. Nor would it help Hotch if she did. She struggled to bury her feelings and do what the team needed her to do if they were going to find their Unit Chief

"I will find you, you son-of-a-bitch!" she hissed looking at her computer screen. Garcia was a woman on a mission now. She would let nothing get in her way. Hotch needed her, and she would not fail him. Once she found the photo of Ronald Brandt she had earlier sent to the team, she typed furiously to access her facial recognition program. "You harm one hair on my handsome leader's head, you'll wish you had never been born after I'm done with you. I can promise you that." She activated the software and waited as thousands of faces on the database were run against the photo. "Where are you? You're in here somewhere. You have to be. And I will find you, you scumbag. You don't mess with any of my crime fighting lovelies and think you're going to get away with it." The fact Brandt wore sunglasses in the police surveillance photo would make things technically difficult, but not impossible. But it was the best surveillance photo of the man they had. She held her breath hoping it would be enough to get a match.

As she waited, Garcia found her mind drifting back to Hotch. How had Brandt managed to grab him? Why and where did he take him? What was happening to him right now? Most importantly, was he even alive? She had seen the crime scene photos of what the man did to his victims. An image of the Unsub doing to Hotch what had been done to the others caused a fresh batch of tears to gather in her eyes. No, I will not think that way. Hotch is alive. I feel it in my heart. The team always says unless there's a body, one considered the missing person to be still alive. Until official word came that Hotch was dead, she would believe him to be alive. Garcia wouldn't be able to handle it if he was dead. She couldn't imagine herself working for anybody else, nor did she want to work for anybody else.

A beeping sound came from her computer along with the words 'Match Found' flashing in the center of her screen. A small smile appeared as she brought up the photo of the man who's photo matched.

"Oh my God!" she gasped when she saw the photo. It was an old photo, probably taken several years ago. But there was no mistaking the resemblance. And if this was the Unsub, then Hotch was in serious trouble. The next thing she did was search for any property under his name in Santa Barbara and surrounding areas, but found nothing. Frantically, her fingers pressed buttons on her phone and waited impatiently for the person she called to pick up on the other end.

"Morgan," the voice said. "What do you have for us, Garcia?"

"I don't know how to tell you this, Morgan. I mean, I can hardly believe it myself and…"

"Hold on, sweetness. I'm gonna put you on speaker." Morgan pressed a button on his phone. "Go ahead."

"As I said, I can't believe what I just found. I mean it's totally unbelievable, because nobody has heard from this guy in several years."

"Just tell us, Garcia," Morgan said. Right now, his worry for his boss overrode any flirting he enjoyed doing with the tech analyst. "What did you find?"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you. I ran the facial recognition software and got a hit. It's an old photo of him, but it's a match."

"Is it Ronald Brandt?" asked Rossi.

"No, sir. Brandt's photo is a match for Jason Armitage. The man who tried to kill Hotch ten years ago." There was complete silence on the other end for several seconds.