Chapter 20
Armitage was busy examining the machete and the carving knives when he heard the sound. He turned and looked in the direction of his captive. There it was again! A slow smile appeared this time because the sound told him his fun would continue.
With an amused grin, Armitage looked back at the smaller table on which all his torture devices sat, and picked up the cattle prod. He then walked over to the larger table with the device, marveling at his good fortune. He looked down at Hotchner, and folded his arms over his chest.
"Glad you're still with us, Aaron," he chuckled. "I was afraid you had died on me, and that our fun was over when it had just begun."
A smirk appeared on Hotch's face although his eyes remained closed. "Wouldn't give… you the…satisfaction." His eyes opened a slit. Still unable to focus, he swallowed the lump which had formed in his throat. He knew he would not survive another bout of serious torture by Armitage. Every inch of his body hurt; his muscles were stiff, and his headache merciless. Even his breathing was shallow. The voice in his head kept telling him the only way to avoid more pain, was to let himself die. But whenever those thoughts permeated his mind, images of Jack pushed through to the front of his mind. Hotch had to hold on for Jack until his last breath. He refused to give up; not when Jack counted on his daddy coming home. He took a deep breath and swallowed.
"Go. To. Hell," he struggled to get the words out with as much authority as possible given his weakened condition.
Armitage chuckled. "Still defiant, eh? Well, we'll soon knock that defiance right out of you." He held up the cattle prod, and noticed the agent's face stay impassive. He assumed by the lack of expression, Hotch was trying to show he was still in control. In reality, Hotch was too exhausted and in too much pain to care anymore. With a smirk, Armitage jabbed the metal tips of the cattle prod into Hotch's exposed side sending a high-voltage, low-current shock into his body.
The agent hissed in agony, biting his lower lip so hard, a trickle of blood ran from the corner of his mouth. Hotch knew the shock wasn't strong enough to kill him, but would cause significant pain. Tears ran from the corners of both eyes causing Armitage to chuckle seeing the great Aaron Hotchner reduced to tears. He jabbed him again in the area of his damaged kneecap which was by now, horribly swollen, painful, and turning a multitude of deep colors. Hotch screamed when the metal tips made contact with the knee. He screamed again as the metal tips next touched his testicles one at a time.
"Had enough, Aaron?" Armitage asked with a smirk. "Just say yes and I will get my carving knife and machete. I promise I'll put you out of your misery. Just say the word and all your pain will end."
Hotch gasped for air. He couldn't take anymore. He wanted the pain to end. I'm sorry, Jack. I tried. I really, really tried. But it hurts so much. He licked his dry lips and shifted his eyes to Armitage, ready to say 'yes' so the pain would end. But when he met his captor's eyes, there was determination on his face.
"I…can…take it," he whispered. He screamed again and again. After about five minutes, the shocks stopped, and Hotch let out a deep breath as tears ran from the corners of his eyes.
"Can you still take it, Aaron?" Armitage asked, chuckling. Even he had to admit the agent impressed him with his endurance and tolerance for pain. "Tell me, are you ready to say yes?"
Hotch swallowed. "No," he said, his voice husky. He knew he was losing his fight to hang on, and beginning to doubt his team would find him before it was too late. But he refused to blame them. He would never blame them. They were the best, and he would miss them. His only hope was that they would not let themselves be consumed with guilt over not being able to save him. He wouldn't want that for them. Hotch hissed after receiving another shock. Dave, I trust you with my team. Take care of them for me. Take care of yourself. And don't blame yourself or let the team blame themselves. None of you are to blame. Hotch screamed again. His face was bathed in sweat as was his entire body. Look after Haley and Jack for me.
"C'mon, Aaron. Let go. There's nobody here you need to impress. I promise I will end your pain and suffering."
"I…can…take…it…" Hotch stammered.
With a sneer on his face, Armitage sighed. "Tell you what. I'm going to show you mercy, and end your pain and misery anyway. It's time for us to part ways, Aaron. But, I'll give you a minute or two to make peace with your maker." He turned and walked back to the table. As he did so, he activated the remote control television and stared at the screen for a few seconds making certain nobody was approaching his house. Satisfied, he walked over to the smaller table and as he lay the cattle prod down, he began to whistle. He reached for the carving knife and the machete.
Rossi, Morgan and Prentiss were in their SUV leading the way, while Detective Parsons and several officers, in another vehicle, followed theirs. And just behind them, in a separate vehicle, were several fully armed members of SWAT. The vehicles stopped in the woods, just out of sight of Armbrister's house, and everybody got out. The agents, except for Prentiss, were putting on their Kevlar vests as the LEOs approached them. Parsons watched Rossi as he put on his vest with 'police' emblazoned on it in white lettering. Rossi put a hand on the detective's arm stopping him.
"Don't put on your vest," the older man said.
Parsons was puzzled. "Why not? And why did we stop out here in the woods near the house out of sight?" the detective asked. "Shouldn't we be right in front and get ready to breach the house?"
"Because he has a closed circuit television," Prentiss explained. "JJ and I both noticed the sensors outside the day we interviewed him. If we pulled up directly in front of the house, he'll spot us coming. And it might cause him to react by killing Hotch before we get in there."
"Then what are we gonna do?" Parsons looked at her for further information.
"We have an idea which might work," Morgan began. "But it requires a bit of role-playing on your part."
Parsons looked from one agent to the other. "What do you need me to do?"
Armitage stood beside the table looking down at a barely conscious Aaron Hotchner and holding the carving knife in his hand. Hotch's eyes appeared to be staring at the shiny blade being waved in front of him.
"This should be sharp enough." He placed the tip in the center of Hotch's chest. That said, Armitage brought the blade downward leaving a thin line of red in it's wake from Hotch's upper chest to his navel. Armitage chuckled and looked at Hotch. "I think it's time to begin removing pieces of you, Aaron." He held the knife over Hotch's chest as if debating where to gouge first. He decided after a few seconds, and placed the tip of the blade at the outer edge of the aureola. "Think I'll start by removing your left nipple." The agent's body tensed under the pressure of the blade being pressed down about to cut, when something caught Armitage's eye causing him to stop before he cut. Looking up, his eyes fell on the screen as a black SUV pulled up in front of his house.
"Shit!" Armitage muttered under his breath. "What do they want now?"
Despite the pain from the Heretics fork, Hotch turned his head as much as possible. He saw what looked like an SUV which he recognized as belonging to the BAU. A small smile appeared. He continued to watch as Prentiss and Detective Parsons exited the vehicle and approached the residence.
"Em…ly," Hotch whispered. The tension started to leave his body. He suspected the rest of his team were on the premises. Armitage glared at Hotch, angry at being interrupted. He slammed the carving knife on the table beside Hotch.
"Looks like you got yourself a short reprieve, Aaron. Unless my memory is mistaken, I believe that is the lovely Agent Prentiss with Detective Parsons." He reached behind him, and untied the straps of his apron, then pulled the apron over his head. "I can't have them finding you down here so I'd best go upstairs and find out what they want." He walked in the direction of the smaller table and grabbed a role of duct tape, ripping off a strip. After putting down the roll, he walked back to Hotch, and covered his mouth with the tape. "This will make sure you can't warn anybody or try and attract attention. I mean, I know this room is soundproof, but why take chances." Armitage then leaned over Hotch and brought his mouth close to his ear. "I won't be long, Aaron," he murmured. "And when I return, I will pick up where I left off with you." Armitage then turned, tossed the leather apron across Hotch's ankles, and left the room to return upstairs.
Parsons looked around the outside of the house as he and Prentiss waited. "I hope this works," he said softly.
"It had better," Prentiss replied just as softly. "If it doesn't, Hotch is as good as dead." Prentiss and Parsons both reached inside their jackets for their credentials when the door opened. "Mr. Armbrister? I'm Agent Prentiss. And this is Detective Parsons. You might remember me from a few days ago when I was here with another agent to ask you a few questions about Anthony Barstow." She put away her credentials.
Armitage smiled charmingly. He feigned trying to remember. "Oh right. You were here with that blond agent. What was her name? Jareau I think it was?"
"Yes. Detective Parsons and I have a few more questions. May we come inside and speak with you?" The expression on the man's face told Prentiss he wanted to deny them entry into his home. This told her he probably had Hotch a prisoner somewhere in this house.
"I'm afraid it's not a good time. I uh…I'm about to head out. I'm meeting a friend for dinner."
Prentiss' face remained impassive. "This won't take long. It's just a few follow-up questions really."
Armitage glanced at the detective. "I'm afraid we must insist," Parsons said with hands in both pockets.
Armitage began to suspect something wasn't right about this situation. He stared at the brunette woman. "Agent Prentiss is it? I'd really like to answer your questions, but I am running late. So perhaps you can come back tomorrow morning. Or I can come to police headquarters in the morning."
"That's not going to happen, Mr. Armbrister," Parsons assured the man. "Now, we can either talk here, or we can talk at police headquarters. Your choice."
Armitage let out a deep breath suspecting he'd be better off answering their questions here. Hopefully, things wouldn't take too long and he could return to Hotch and resume gorging out chunks of the man's body before cutting him in half. With a deep sigh, he stood aside and allowed the duo to enter his living room and closed the door.
Rossi and Morgan, followed by several members of SWAT, quietly made their way around to the back of the house after observing Prentiss and Parsons enter the residence. The agents held their Glocks in one hand, and maglites in the other. The SWAT members had their weapons pointed in front of them at the ready.
"Here's hoping they can keep Armitage busy long enough for us to get inside and find Hotch," Morgan said.
"And if they can't?" Rossi asked warily.
Morgan looked at the man and sighed. "Then us and Hotch are in a lotta trouble." He continued to walk side-by-side with Rossi hoping to find an entrance into the house without arousing Armitage. Suddenly, Morgan's eyes narrowed. "Rossi…"
"What?" the older man asked.
"Check this out, man." Morgan knelt down beside a basement door at the back of the house. He ran a hand over the door.
"Is that made of steel?" asked Rossi with narrowed eyes, light shining on the basement door.
"Looks like it," Morgan agreed. "But it's newer than the rest of the house." He looked up at Rossi. "Besides, how many houses do you know have exterior basement doors made of steel when the house itself is brick?"
"None that I know of," Rossi concurred.
Morgan reached inside his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He dialed Garcia's number and pressed the phone to his ear.
"How can I be of service oh Chocolate God of Thunder?" Garcia asked.
"Garcia, I need you to check something for me."
"For you…anything. What can I find for you?"
"Check and see if Jason Armbrister filed any permits to make renovations to his home. There's a basement door in the back of his house made of steel. I'll hold."
"Just give me a few minutes, my love." Her fingers typed furiously. "Sorry. But there are no permits applied for allowing any renovations to be done on the premises. But according to what I found, the basement door of the house was made of plywood and not steel."
"Thanks, mama," Morgan replied before ending the call and putting his cell back in his pocket. He looked at Rossi. "There are no permits filed for renovations," he said. "We need to open that basement door if we're gonna find out what's inside that basement." He looked at one of the SWAT members and motioned him forward. "Can you open this lock?" he asked.
The man nodded, hung the strap of his assault rifle over his shoulder, and removed a small, slender piece of metal from his pocket. He knelt in front of the lock on the steel door, held the small lock in one hand, and inserted the special tip into the tumbler of the lock. He maneuvered the piece of metal until he heard the click of the lock indicating it had opened. The man looked back at Morgan and nodded. Morgan and Rossi each grabbed a handle of the door and pulled. They shined their maglites down the darkened steps. Morgan and Rossi slowly proceeded down the steps letting the beams of their maglites highlight the way. Several members of SWAT followed.
Hotch closed his eyes for a minute and let out a deep breath against the tape. The longer Armitage was gone, the better. He wondered what Emily was up to and where Rossi, Morgan, JJ and Reid were. If these were his final minutes alive on earth, Hotch wished for two things. One, to tell Jack and Haley how much he loved both of them. And two, to tell his team how proud he was of them. He would miss each and every one of them.
He closed his eyes again as he prepared himself for the painful death he knew would be coming the moment Prentiss and Parsons left the house. This time gave Hotch a chance to reflect on his life for any regrets. He found he only had one. And that was he hadn't told his team how much each of their friendships meant to him, and how much he loved them. He let out a deep breath as much as the tape covering his mouth allowed. A sense of inner peace permeated his body. I'm so sorry, Jack. I'm so sorry. Haley, I love you both always.
Suddenly Hotch sensed he wasn't alone. He was unable to put his finger on what it was, but knew somebody was close by. Could the team be here? He smiled behind the tape. He wanted to shout "I'm in here!" hoping they would hear him, but couldn't. All he could do was pray that whoever it was, would find him before Armitage came back.
Rossi and Morgan found themselves face-to-face with another steel door after walking down a corridor. They noticed the corridor was insulated. Morgan, with a glance at Rossi, gripped the handle and pulled, opening the door slowly. The duo, weapons aimed, tentatively entered the room. They froze in horror at the sight which greeted their eyes.
"Oh My God," Rossi echoed with wide eyes while Morgan stared in horror.