Chapter 50

Rossi stepped out of the elevator when it reached Hotch's floor. As the doors hissed closed behind him, he placed both hands against his lower back and bent r backwards, stretching out his aching muscles. Between sitting in that hard plastic chair, and all the stress from worrying about his friend, every muscle in Rossi's body ached like hell. With a sigh, he then stared at the closed door of Hotch's room and licked his lips. After he had walked out on Aaron, he had gone to the cafeteria not only for a cup of coffee, but to calm himself down a little. He felt badly for nearly losing his patience with the younger man. After all, it wasn't Hotch's fault. The man had been through a horrific ordeal and nearly died.

Realizing that, Rossi understood that did not make it right that he lost his patience with Hotch. If anything, it made him feel worse than he already did because he had. Once he grabbed the door handle, he told himself he needed to apologize to Hotch, and hoped the younger man would forgive him. He started to turn the door handle and stopped when someone called out his name. As he turned around, Rossi spotted Doctor Correa walking toward him, carrying a clipboard in his arm, his face unreadable. In fact, looking into the doctor's eyes caused Rossi's heart to drop into his stomach. He sensed the doctor was going to deliver bad news. More bad news that Aaron didn't need with his plate already full.

"Doctor, is something wrong?" Rossi asked.

Correa let out a deep breath through his mouth. "I have Agent Hotchner's test results, Agent Rossi, and I'd rather give both of you the news at the same time. Shall we go see Aaron?"

Rossi felt like he was moving in slow motion as he turned the door handle. Once he had opened the door, he now moved like his feet were stuck in molasses as he forced himself to walk inside the room with Correa behind him. He looked at the two agents and jerked his head indicating they were to leave the room, and held the door open for them. Once the guards left the room, he let the door close, then sat down in the hard plastic chair near the head of the bed. Correa stood beside the bed holding the clipboard in his hands.

Hotch looked from Rossi to Correa, and back to Rossi again.

"What's going on, Dave? You look like you lost your favorite hunting dog."

"Aaron, Doctor Correa has your test results from earlier and wants to give us both the news at the same time." Rossi and Hotch both focused on the doctor and waited anxiously. The bad vibes Rossi had, had now spread to Hotch.

Hotch bit his lower lip nervously. "How bad is the news, doc?"

Correa was momentarily startled by the question, then realized his expression had been misinterpreted by the two profilers. A slow grin appeared on his face.

"I'm so sorry, gentlemen, for giving you the wrong impression, but you misunderstand. There's no bad news whatsoever. Not at all. I checked and rechecked Agent Hotchner's test results and he is in perfect health. There's no sign of a blood clot anywhere, nor is there anything wrong with his heart."

"Thank God," Rossi murmured looking up at the heavens briefly, while Hotch breathed a sigh of relief. The older man glanced at his younger friend before focusing on the doctor again. "So it was a panic attack?" he asked.

"I would think so, but I submitted a copy of everything to Doctor Carson for her to review, and the final determination will be hers. She will stop by later and talk with you after she makes a decision based on her findings. I just wanted to stop by with the good news on my end. And again, I am sorry for giving both of you the wrong impression."

Rossi, smiling, nodded as he wiped his hands across both eyes. He chuckled as he noticed the stare Aaron was giving him. "Sorry. I got something in my eyes."

Hotch rolled his eyes and shook his head, knowing his friend was lying.

Doctor Correa smirked. "Glad I could give you the news you wanted, gentlemen." He walked toward the door and grabbed the door handle, then looked over his shoulder. "I'll ask the guards who just left to give you both about five minutes before they come back inside the room."

"Thank you, doctor," said a grateful Hotch. He and Rossi watched the doctor leave the room. Now alone, Hotch placed his good hand on Rossi's hand which rested on Hotch's shoulder. "It's okay, Dave. You heard the doctor. My heart is fine and there's no blood clot."

"I know…" Rossi's voice was strained. "And for that I will forever be grateful. But Aaron, as you had a panic attack that scared the hell outta me, it's possible Doctor Carson might prescribe a medication for you and…"

Hotch shook his head vehemently. "I'm not going to take any damn meds! I don't want them and don't need them! I can control my own damn emotions!"

"Aaron, stop being so damn pigheaded! Nobody is saying you need to take them forever. It might just be for a short time." Rossi nearly jumped for joy when he spotted the famous 'Hotchner stare' directed his way. It had been so long since he had seen a passionate response from Hotch.

"I don't care if it's for one day, the answer is no! I will not take any drugs. End of discussion!"

"Aaron, up until now you have been trying my patience, and I have been rather tolerant of your childish behavior and what I would consider your temper tantrums. But I draw the line now. If, and I did say if, Doctor Carson prescribes a med for you temporarily, you will take it as prescribed and take it without argument. And should you refuse, we will have to see what Jack has to say about it. So I suggest you stop acting like a spoiled brat, and do what I say. Capice?"

"Dave…"

"I said capice, Aaron?"

Hotch sighed and rolled his eyes. "You're not going to drop this, are you?"

"Not when I know I'm right."

Aaron grumbled and the older man could only make out a few words and chuckled in silence knowing his friend would surrender.

"Fine…" Hotch snarled with a pout on his face. He hated being cornered by anybody, least of all by Rossi.

The senior agent smiled and patted Hotch on the head. "Good boy."

Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose. "Dave, you're not talking to Mudgie, so you can stop patting me on the head. Besides, before my babysitters come back in the room, I need to discuss something with you."

"What is it? Sounds serious by your face."

"In a way. I've made a decision."

"Tell me."

"Well, I've decided I need to take back my life, but I can't do that as long as Foyet is out there. Now you've told me the team is checking out two different locations where he might be hiding."

"Right. Emily told me they found nothing at the home address. And Morgan and JJ are heading to an abandoned family business the Foyets use to own. Why? What do you have in mind?"

Hotch let out a nervous breath through his mouth. He knew the older man wouldn't like what he was going to suggest.

"I have an idea how we can lure Foyet out of hiding if he isn't found in either location. What we can do…"

"Like hell you will!" Rossi interrupted, eyebrows knitted together and eyes flashing dangerously. He knew exactly what his friend had in mind. "No way in hell are you gonna offer yourself as bait to lure Foyet out of hiding! No way! I won't let you!"

"Dave…" Hotch began when the door opened and the two agents reentered the room studying the two men, so whatever else Aaron wanted to say went unspoken.

"Is everything all right in here?" one agent asked, concerned. "We heard raised voices."

Rossi put on an unreadable face and a small smile as he gazed at the agent who had spoken. "Everything's fine," he said. "Agent Hotchner and I were just having a difference of opinion is all. Nothing serious."

The two agents exchanged dubious looks between them before focusing on Rossi and Hotch. The one who had spoken licked his lips.

"Something wrong, agent?" asked Rossi sensing this agent had something to say. And he swore to himself if he was going to belittle Hotch, he would face the wrath of the older man.

"Agent Hotchner, Agent Thompson here and I have something we'd like to say to you…"

Hotch looked up at Rossi then at the two agents. "What is it, Agent…uh Agent…" The man stood too far away for Hotch to be able to read the name tag.

"Scott Grossman, sir. We'd just like to say that neither of us believe the rumors about you. And even though we don't know you except by reputation, your rep is good enough for us, sir. And we don't mind telling anybody who says anything different that they're wrong about you if they listen to and believe the negative rumors about you."

Hotch swallowed the lump that had been in his throat, and his eyes misted.

"Thank you, Agent Grossman," Hotch said. "Thank you both. But aren't you both afraid of repercussions from your coworkers who do believe them?"

Agent Thompson hrumped. "Not really, Agent Hotchner," he replied. "Scott and I aren't easily intimidated. Also, we've been talking to others we work with hoping to get them to either change their minds about you. Or to make sure they don't listen to the rumors."

Rossi and Hotch exchanged glances for a second. "Agent Hotchner and I are grateful," the older man said.

"Yes, I am very grateful to you both," Hotch added. "Just don't get into trouble for it. I would hate for both of you to get into serious trouble for defending me."

"We're not worried," said Grossman with a grin. "And we're glad to do it for you, sir. Besides, nobody deserves to have their reputation ruined based on rumors and innuendo. We want to see that wrong righted."

Morgan parked the SUV outside the abandoned building and slid out from behind the steering wheel. Moments later, JJ emerged from the passenger seat and was donning her Kevlar vest. She walked around the front of the vehicle as Morgan was putting on his own vest.

Detective Moeller and the commander of the SWAT team who came with them, approached both agents wearing their own individual Kevlar vests.

"How do you want to handle this?" JJ asked looking at Morgan as she fastened the Velcro straps of her vest.

Morgan, securing his own Velcro straps, studied both Moeller and the SWAT commander.

"Detective, I want you and your men to enter through the back. Captain, I want you and your men to come with Agent Jareau and myself through the front. And everybody keep in mind there's possibly a child in there so keep your eyes open, stay sharp, but be careful. But we want Foyet alive if possible." He adjusted his earpiece. "We move on the count of three." He glanced at everybody with one last time. "Everybody ready?" Everybody nodded. "Good, then let's go."

Silently, Moeller and his men, sticking close to the building and keeping to the shadows, quietly made their way around the building until they reached the back. At the same time, Morgan and JJ, weapons drawn, with the SWAT team behind them, made their way to the front entrance. To their relief, the front door was closed but unlocked. In fact, the doorknob was missing from the door completely, and the door wasn't completely shut.

JJ glanced at her partner as she braced herself to enter the unknown. Morgan returned her glance and spoke into his wrist communicator. "Everybody ready?" he asked.

"We're ready, agent," was Moeller's response.

Morgan glanced at the blonde. "JJ?"

The blonde nodded her head, her long hair pulled back in a ponytail. "Ready," she answered.

Morgan glanced over his shoulder at the SWAT leader. "Captain?"

The Swat leader only nodded his head indicating he and his men were ready.

"On the count of three we go. One…two…three!" Morgan flung open the door as he stormed inside with JJ and SWAT behind him. "FBI! Nathan Foyet show yourself!" Before they went too far into the darkened interior, JJ and Morgan used their Mag lights to illuminate in front of them. The SWAT team had lights attached to their weapons.

"Nathan Foyet, come out with your hands on your head!" Morgan ordered. Everything he said was met by stoney silence.

A search of the entire lower level took nearly forty-five minutes to clear. Morgan and JJ were becoming disheartened they weren't going to find Foyet, and that their boss's nightmare would continue. Suddenly, Moeller's voice boomed from upstairs.

"Hey, you guys better take a look at this!"

JJ and Morgan left the SWAT team and bolted up the stairs to the upper level. They were hoping that their UnSub had been found hiding somewhere upstairs.

"What did you find, Detective?" asked Morgan spotting Moeller who was looking grim.

"I think we've answered at least one question," the detective turned back and stared into the room in front of him. Both Morgan and JJ looked inside as well and grimaced.

Even from the doorway, they could tell the victim inside was deceased, and had died a grisly death. From what they could see from where they stood, the victim had been gutted like a fish, the intestines and innards of the victim spilled over the floor.

"He looks familiar," JJ said. "Was any ID found on 'im?"

Moeller handed the open wallet to Morgan who studied the driver's license photo.

"Damn!" Morgan muttered shaking his head as he handed the wallet to the blonde beside him.

The driver's license photo identified the victim as Doctor Adam Caswell.

JJ shook her head. "I guess Caswell's not missing anymore," she said handing the wallet back to Moeller who handed it to one of his officers who dropped it into an evidence bag.

"Poor bastard," Moeller remarked. "Guess Foyet decided he didn't need the good doctor anymore, and didn't want to leave any loose ends."

Morgan stared at the detective with a worried expression. "Any sign of the girl yet?"

Moeller shook his head. "Not yet. But I still have men checking out other rooms down the hall."

"If Foyet's not leaving loose ends for us…" JJ started looking at the two men who could see fear in her blue eyes. "…then I'm afraid what that means for Alana."

"You're not the only one," Moeller agreed.

Just then….

"Detective! Agents!" came a shout from somewhere down the hall.

Morgan, JJ, and Moeller exchanged glances before they turned and raced down the hall. There they found two uniformed cops standing outside a locked door with a sign saying 'The PLAYROOM.'

"What did you find?" asked Moeller.

"We're not sure yet, sir," said one uniform gripping the door handle and pulling it, but it wouldn't give. "But we heard sounds coming from the other side of this door. But it's locked and we can't open it."

"What sounds?" asked Morgan, his hope suddenly renewed.

"Not sure exactly," said Tom. "But it sounded like whimpers."

"Whimpers?" asked JJ with arched eyebrows. "Like a child's whimpers maybe?"

Tom and his partner exchanged looks, then looked at the trio. Tom shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know. Could be," he replied.

Morgan gently pushed the cop away from the door and yanked violently on the door handle, but it refused to give. With a snort of rage, he slammed a fist against the door.

"We need to get inside that room," he said looking at the others. "Those whimpers might be Alana Wheaton. She might be hurt, or Foyet might be in there with her. Either way, we need to get in there."

JJ glanced at the door and noticed the keyhole. A grin suddenly appeared as an idea came to her. She reached a hand to her head, removed something, and held it up for the others to see.

"A bobby pin?" asked Moeller with wide eyes. "I don't understand."

Morgan stood aside to let JJ reach the door. "Go, JJ," he ordered as he held up his Glock. Moeller and the uniforms all held their weapons in front of them in case Foyet was hiding inside the room as well.

JJ knelt down in front of the door and inserted the bobby pin into the lock. She jiggled it around until there was a click and smiled. Once she was got to her feet again, she grabbed her gun and held it at the ready with one hand. The other had a tight grip on the door handle. She glanced back at Morgan.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Go!" he ordered.

JJ pulled open the door and everybody froze at the sight which greeted them. JJ right away put her gun back in her holster and smiled. Morgan and the others lowered their weapons and stared.

Inside the room on the floor sat a terrified Alana Wheaton clutching her Raggedy Ann doll tightly. Her dress and hair were dirty, and there were tears rolling down her cheeks as she looked up at these strangers she didn't know. Being a mother herself, JJ could tell right away that the child was terrified. So she cautiously approached the child, smiling the entire time.

"Hey," JJ said as she knelt in front of the little girl. "Hey, don't be afraid. My name is Jennifer. What's yours?"

The little girl's green eyes met JJ's bright blue ones. There was something in JJ's eyes that told Alana she could trust this woman.

"A…Alana."

JJ's smile widened. "Hi, Alana. Are you hurt anywhere?"

"No. But the bad man took Diedre away and didn't bring her back."

"Is Diedre your babysitter's name?"

"Yes." Alana said maintaining eye contact with the blonde. She looked at her hands for a moment. "Can I ask a question?"

"Sure, sweetie," JJ replied. "What is it?"

"Did…did the bad man hurt Diedre?" Her green eyes looked between JJ and Morgan waiting for someone to answer.

JJ looked at Morgan. The black agent licked his lips. "Yes, he did, Alana. He hurt her very badly I'm afraid."

Alana nodded as tears ran down her cheeks. "Did…did the bad man make her go away?"

"Yes, he did, sweetheart," Morgan answered gently. "We are so sorry."

The child licked her lips and stared at Morgan. "I want my daddy. Can you take me to my daddy?"

"Yes, sweetheart," JJ replied as she reached out and picked up the little girl, holding her tightly in her arms. "But first we need to get you to the hospital and let them check you out first. After that, we'll take you to see your daddy. And believe me, your daddy's missed you so much."

"Really?" for the first time a smile appeared on the child's face.

"Umm-hmmm," the blonde replied, nodding. "Alana, this is my friend, Derek." She pointed toward Morgan with a free hand.

"Hi, Alana," Morgan said with a smile. "I'm very pleased to meet you. Your dad's told me so much about you."

"He did?"

"Yes, he did. Alana, I have one question to ask you before we leave. Do you know where the bad man went? We really need to find him so he can't hurt anybody else like he hurt Diedre. Can you help us, sweetheart?"

Alana scrunched up her little face as she thought about Morgan's question. Finally, she shrugged her small shoulders.

"I don't know where the bad man went," she said. "He kept me locked up and wouldn't talk or even play with me. He was mean and scary."

Morgan and JJ exchanged looks. "You don't have to worry about this mean scary man anymore," Morgan explained. "I promise you he won't bother you again. And thank you, Alana. You've been a big help. Now let's get you outta here. The sooner we get you to the hospital and get you checked out, the sooner you can see your daddy." Morgan stood aside to allow JJ to pass holding the child. As she walked past them, Morgan stared at Moeller.

"Foyet could be anywhere," he said. "Looks like we're gonna need a Plan B after all."