Okay. Let's hope this isn't a load of bullshit, because ain't nobody got time fo' that. Read, review, favorite and all that good shit, okay? Yes. Thank you, and do like my url says and have a great day! X
Hotch POV
We had been searching for Charlotte for a little over a day now, and I was starting to feel the heat. Stephenson was next to no help at all - he couldn't even tell me the exact time Sinclair arrived back at the airport, we had to wrench it out of the weedy young man's mouth my hand, and that was no easy task. He kept mumbling, and confusing the times - the whole ordeal was ridiculously irritating and a waste of time. Rossi and I split the team in half and we even brought Garcia in on the case. Our techy saved us hours of work with a few taps of her talented fingers and I am ever grateful that we have her around.
At first, we thought it could have been a blitz attack, and the unsub who allegedly kidnapped Charlotte had no affiliation with the brunette, however that soon became obsolete. The security cameras outside of the airport had clearly shown a man, dressed in nearly all black, watch, wait and attack Charlotte in particular. This lead us to the belief that the unsub and Detective Lewis knew each other, however we were stumped as to where they could have encountered.
Even her so called team mates had no clue who this mystery man could have been, and that infuriated me even more. She had to have been working here for at least a year, yet none of them took the time to even get to know her? She was very forthcoming and polite with us on the surface, but beneath it all, we could sense the chilling sadness that lurked in her eyes. These assholes that she worked with hadn't even offered to drive her home, just under the premise of keeping a fellow colleague safe. What a bunch of cu-
"Hotch, I think I got something."
Garcia's voice scooped me from my inner rant, and all attention was quickly directed to the small laptop screen that she was shown on.
"Okay, let's see.. Charlotte Lewis, 23 years old, born on January 16th 1989 in New Orleans. Her mother's name is Adalina Marie Lopez, previously Marinelli, and her father's name is.. Oh God," she paused to take a breath, and shakily continued, "Wow, this is different. Her father's name is Christos Angelis, 58 years old, aka Mister Massacre. Hotch, he killed people. Like.. A lot of people. 61 men and women over a 20 year period. Any one of families of the deceased could have taken her. This is a lot of names, Hotch. How do you want me to narrow it down?"
Rossi and I shared a heated glance, and instead of focussing on the disgusted and shocked faces of the rest of my team, I spoke directly to Penelope, "Exclude all the families where a parent is over 50, this unsub is in his mid thirties, early forties. And, before I forget, he used chloroform. See if you can track the annual sales of it within New York City, mainly Manhattan. We couldn't see the car that he pulled her into, so if you can find any footage that shows it, that would be great."
She hummed, and said, with conviction, "Right on it, Mr Boss Man."
The screen cut out, and Derek was the first to speak.
"Hotch.. Her father was a serial killer?"
I stared at him for a lengthy period of time and nodded in affirmation.
"Yes. Her father has been in Florence ADX Penitentiary for the last 10 years, and there is no way, in his lifetime, that he's leaving. But that's beyond the point. Now.. Let's get back to searching for her."
I began walking out of the room, only to have Reid's voice stop me when he enquired, "Hotch, where are you going then?"
I turned my head around, and replied, "Colorado, of course."
The ride to Florence was a quiet, tense and fairly short one, in the jet, of course. Rossi had opted to join me on this little excursion and I agreed wholeheartedly. I still didn't know how I was going to approach Angelis, and it would help in more ways that one if Rossi was here.
"So, I'm curious Hotch. Why do you give a damn if this girl gets back alive or not?"
His question was light in tone, but the implication was there, twisting through every word and for some reason, it made me sick to think that Rossi, one of my closest friends, would think that low of me.
My tone was steelier than I had imagined it would be and my glare could have frozen coffee.
"If you're implying that my conduct is anything less that professional then I would prefer it if you kept your opinions to yourself. Of course I care if a fellow law enforcement officer is endangered - it just so happens to be a young woman that was selected to be our liaison. Leaving her to the mercy of her kidnapper would be immoral and cruel. I hope that answers your questions, David."
His answering smirk showed that he was content with my response, and I relaxed into the chair. I felt lighter and more sure about what I was doing now, and I couldn't help but send him a mock-glare in return. He knew exactly what buttons he would have pressed by asking that bullshit question.
"You're welcome, Aaron."
My only reply was to throw my tablet case in his direction, and laughter as he failed to catch it in time. Not so smooth now, are you?
*Anyone catch that repetition of that last line between Hotch and Lewis? They're like twins, I swear. Also, ADX is an actual prison in Florence, Colorado. It's for the worst of the worst, and although capital murder and serial killers don't usually get put in that severe category, for my story, he is in there. Beware of the creepy old man.
Oh..I wonder how long I'll leave Charlotte with Edward.
Hmm, decisions, decisions.*