Chapter 64

Spencer Reid stood with the upper part of his back against the wall with both hands stuffed into the pockets of his trousers. His long legs were out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. His face was downcast, and he stared at a spot on the tiled floor. Periodically he would glance at the door of his boss's room, and then back at the floor again. Even the guards outside Hotch's room who had been observing him, left him alone for the most part. He knew he should join the others in Hotch's room, but he couldn't make himself do it. He still felt incredibly guilty for embarrassing his boss. And if that wasn't bad enough, Garcia had gotten a 'close-up' view of Hotch's 'nether regions.'

It didn't even have anything to do with Hotch being angry with him for the blunder, because Hotch had told him he wasn't. And Reid did believe the man. The guilt was due to him having caused the entire thing. And that, to him, was the sole reason he couldn't face Hotch right now.

He appreciated Rossi coming out and talking to him earlier about what happened, and it did help a bit. It really did. But the guilt continued to linger. So with a small smile on his face, he asked Rossi to tell Hotch not to worry about him. The senior agent, returning the smile, promised he would, but that Hotch would continue worrying anyway, and that he really needed to speak with the Unit Chief. Reid promised he would, but he just wasn't ready to do that. Rossi nodded his understanding and then left the youngest agent alone with his thoughts.

Foyet glanced down the hall and spotted the youngest agent he had been attracted to earlier. Watching him staring at the floor and his long, shaggy, chestnut curls masking his face from the side, made Foyet feel a stirring in his loins. His pants were becoming a bit uncomfortable. No! This can't be happening right now! I won't allow it! He looked up at the wall clock and breathed a huge sigh of relief when he realized it was six-fifty-five in the evening. He had to get out of here before things became obvious.

He glanced over his shoulder at the young redheaded female nurse behind him seated at a desk named Chrissie.

"Hey, Chris!"

Chrissie paused from her paperwork, and glanced over her shoulder at him.

"What do you need, Will?" she asked with a smile.

"It's five minutes to seven and I'm gonna cut out a little early if it's okay."

"Sure, go ahead. See you tomorrow."

Foyet nodded at the woman, glanced down the hall again at Reid, and nearly ran out the hospital's front doors.

Morning came too soon for everybody. But no more than for Nathan Foyet who, upon returning home about eight p.m. the night before, skipped dinner, and right away logged onto his computer. He prayed he could find the answer to his DNA problem but no such luck. In fact, it was well past midnight before he finally collapsed, exhausted, onto his bed and closed his eyes letting sleep claim him.

It was the incessant buzzing that pierced his darkness and threatened to interrupt the pleasant dreams he was having. Grumbling, he lazily reached out a hand in the direction from which the buzzing was coming. His fingers hit the alarm clock on his nightstand, tapped something, and buzzing suddenly stopped. Satisfied, he smiled and returned to the dreams. Then, without warning a few minutes later, the incessant buzzing returned. With a groan this time, he forced open one eye and slammed his hand again on the alarm clock. He was about to go back to sleep when his eye noticed the time.

It was nearing six-forty-five in the evening. His eyes shot open. "I'm gonna be late for work!" he told himself as he threw back the covers and leaped out of bed. But first things first. He had to call the hospital which he did, and quickly explained that he had overslept and would be at work within the hour. After he hung up the receiver, he jumped into his shower.

It was nearly twenty minutes later that Foyet was rushing out of his front door and in his car for the thirty minute drive to work. This included a stop at his favorite deli for coffee and the evening edition of the newspaper. He decided he needed to read the story of the FBI press conference. Hopefully there was something more there which could answer his question.

After he pulled up outside the deli, Foyet jumped out of the car and hurried into the deli. He ordered a large coffee with two sugars and milk. As he waited for his order, he approached the close-by newspaper rack, and grabbed a copy of the one remaining paper. He folded it in half, paid for both items, and quickly left and got in his car. He sat the paper on the front passenger seat, removed the lid from the Styrofoam cup, and took a big drink of coffee, savoring the dark brew. After he put the lid back on, he placed the cup in the cup holder between the front seats. With a sigh, he picked up the newspaper and glanced at the bottom half of the front page. As there was nothing of interest, he turned the paper over to glance at the top half and nearly choked from the shock when he saw the glaring headline.

'SHODDY WORK WITH DNA TESTING PLAGUES FBI CRIME LAB'

Major internal problems involve several cases over ten day period, including recent case involving attack on FBI Agent.

The job now forgotten, Foyet started reading the story paying close attention to each word. As he read, a slow smile began to appear. The article went on to explain, it had been discovered that the FBI crime lab in Quantico, had bungled DNA tests on at least ten cases. The Bureau stated that at this time, they had no idea of how many other cases might be affected. But included among those ten cases which were affected, was the recent case involving the attack on an FBI agent named Aaron Hotchner who had been mugged several weeks ago.

The article continued to say that the DNA test did confirm the identity of one of the agent's two attackers. But identifying the second perpetrator via DNA will be impossible according to an FBI spokesman. Seemed the Forensic scientist bungled the second test by accidentally contaminating the DNA collected from the agent's clothing with that from another case. It was discovered that same Forensic scientist had been working on two cases at the same time, which makes a DNA match on the second attacker now impossible. Finally, it was discovered there was no other sample left of the second perpetrator to test. Fortunately, the second suspect had been identified by Agent Hotchner from a photo lineup as his attacker, and has been identified as a fellow FBI agent named Jason Hemminger.'

Foyet's eyes bulged nearly out of his head as he stopped reading and looked up in a daze. They think that idiot Hemminger poked Hotchner? This couldn't have worked out better. No wonder that blonde agent at the press conference said the rape of that nurse was done by somebody else. His smile widened as the ramifications of what he'd read meant for him.

I'm home free, he thought to himself cackling gleefully. They don't know about me because a stupid idiot contaminated the samples he had. And since I ain't never been arrested, they have nothin' on me at all! He licked his lips because this meant he was that much closer to his prize. Just one more obstacle remained, and to him, it was more of a minor nuisance.

Tossing the newspaper onto the passenger seat, Foyet grinned devilishly and started his car. He had to get to work.

When Foyet got to the hospital, he rushed through the front doors and right away noticed a difference. It was like an air of relief had taken over the hospital. As he made his way to the nurse's station, he grabbed the arm of a passing redheaded female nurse. She looked at him questioningly.

"What's goin' on?" he asked glancing at the closed door down the hall. There were no guards posted outside the door.

"The FBI removed their extra security last night. We finally got our hospital back."

"Okay. Thanks." He released the nurse and continued to his post with a gleam now in his eyes as he looked again at the closed door. "Forty-eight hours, Aaron," he told himself. Forty-eight hours more and you and I will be together for the last time. But first I need to get rid of your team.

He again eyed the closed door at the end of the hall and smiled wickedly. He maintained that fake smile as he walked behind the nurse's counter. He spotted his boss and head nurse, Agatha Muir, a stout, gray-haired woman of about fifty wearing wire-framed glasses. She chuckled when she saw him. She didn't dislike William Bayville, but she didn't like him either. In fact, there was something 'off' about the man. But he was a hard worker so she couldn't complain. She glanced at the wall clock.

"Mornin', Agatha."

"Morning, Billy," she said with a chuckle. She noticed his devilish grin. "You look like the cat who swallowed the canary."

Foyet let his eyes drift down the hall to that closed door again. "I might be, Agatha. I just might be."

It was sometime later when David Rossi walked into the hospital alone looking casually around as he made his way to the nurse's counter. He carried a folded newspaper tucked under his arm. With a smile, he nodded at both Foyet and Nurse Muir as he walked past and continued down the hall. Foyet, watching the older agent, turned his head when there was a sigh from Nurse Muir heard behind him. He raised an eyebrow inquisitively, an amused expression on his face.

"What was that if I may ask?" Foyet said. The head nurse, though still an attractive woman for her age, didn't do anything for him sexually. "But…" he told himself, "If I have too, I can always make an exception." He chuckled. "I can always pretend she's that skinny agent with the long hair." He had never 'enjoyed' the pleasures of an older woman. But he recalled his late cousin George admitting that he himself had enjoyed the pleasure of an older woman. He had been fifteen years-of-age, and the woman somewhere in her thirties. George had told him one thing before his death. And that was that 'a woman, despite her age, is still a woman,' and the same rewards can be had for the taking if he wanted. Nathan never forgot that, and suddenly developed a new opinion of the woman who was old enough to be his mother, God rest her soul.

Agatha smiled looking at the younger man. "That Agent Rossi is sooooooo handsome. And such a gentleman!" She sighed again with a dreamy expression on her face.

Foyet chuckled and shook his head. "Agatha, you're married with four children and three grandchildren."

Agatha playfully slapped his arm. "Hey, I might be married but I'm not dead. Besides, I enjoy window shopping you might say," she said with a twinkle in her green eyes. "And if you must know, while window shopping, I often see things I like, but can't afford."

Foyet shook his head, amused, and turned back to his paperwork. "You are soooo, soooo naughty, y'know."

"And I'm gonna stay that way," Agatha teased. She smirked and returned to her ledgers.

With a heavy sigh, Rossi dropped his weary body into the uncomfortable chair near the head of the bed. He placed the paper on his lap, and leaned back against the chair with crossed arms. He noticed Hotch grinning at him as he elevated the head part of the bed.

"What's making you so happy as if I have to ask," Rossi said.

Hotch let a breath out through his nose. "I just have this strange feeling that this will all end in a few days. I really do. Besides, who know? It could all come to an end sooner."

Rossi leaned forward with arms on legs with folded hands atop the folded paper. "Aaron, it's not that I want to rain on your parade, but keep in mind this business might not end as quickly as you believe."

"I understand that, believe me. But you have to understand that I need this case to end soon. I want to stop worrying, looking over my shoulder, and wondering when and if he's going to walk through that door one night and finish me off, Dave. And mostly, I want to stop being scared. So you see, I have to believe this will all be over soon." He studied his friend's face. His eyes begged his friend to understand.

Rossi stared at Hotch for a few seconds, and slowly nodded showing he did understand. A slow grin appeared.

"I do understand, Aaron, I really do. It's just that…I don't know. I guess I just don't want you to be disappointed if this takes a bit longer than you planned is all. Oh, before I forget. That was a brilliant move on your part."

Hotch looked at him confused.

"When you asked JJ to have that reporter at the press conference agree to write a fictitious story about the bungled DNA tests over a ten-day period."

Hotch became excited like a small child on Christmas day. "They printed it?"

"That they did, my friend," Rossi replied grinning. He unfolded the newspaper and held it chest-high for Aaron to see. There was a wide smile on the younger man's face as he scanned the headlines.

"Beautiful!" Hotch exclaimed taking the paper from Rossi's hands and sat it on his lap. His dark eyes scanned the first sentence. "Foyet reads this, he'll have to believe he's gotten away with what he did to me." He looked up at his friend. "I'm telling you, if this article doesn't lure Foyet out of hiding, nothing will." He again let his eyes return to the article, and shook his head. "So far, things are going the way I planned. Y'know, Dave, I was worried at first about this." Glancing up at Rossi, Hotch noticed the look of confusion and continued. "I mean when JJ told me that reporter said to leave it to him to write up this phony story about the lab. But from what little I've read here, he did a damn good job." He looked up again. "I hope you remembered to contact the lab and let them know this article was fake?"

Rossi held up a hand. "Never fear, my friend. I contacted them first thing this morning before the newspapers hit the stands. It's all good."

"Good. The last thing we need is to ruffle the feathers of those in the lab. They are so important to us."

"Yes, they are," Rossi agreed. Hotch started to hand the paper back to his friend who refused. "Keep it. Read it at your leisure. And by the way, the article based on the press conference is now on page five if you want to read that as well."

"Thanks. I'll check it out later." Hotch folded the paper and sat it on the edge of the night table beside the phone. He let the back of his head fall against the pillow and sighed.

"So are Detective Moeller's men going to be on duty?"

"Yes. He'll have a man in both stairwells on opposite sides of your room. Two more will be in the security room upstairs. And Moeller himself will be in here with you. They all are scheduled to be here as their shift starts at six p.m. At eleven p.m. we'll be here. Also, when coming and leaving the hospital, everybody will use the back entrance so nobody will see us. We've made arrangements with the hospital security people so we can come and go with no trouble. Also, the Chief-of-Staff here is aware of what we're doing, and will cooperate fully as long as we don't disrupt the functioning of the hospital. And he will not mention anything about us being here."

"What about Moeller getting in my room without being seen?"

"I arranged with the Chief-of-Staff for that as well. He's gonna have the entire nursing staff on this floor attend a mandatory meeting for about fifteen-twenty minutes. During that time, only a security guard will be at the nurse's counter who will be aware of the surveillance by us. That should be plenty of time for Moeller to get in here without being seen."

Hotch tried to look positive, but Rossi could tell the man was scared. He glanced at the wall clock "I guess I better get going." He struggled to his feet and walked toward the door. He gripped the door handle and started to pull the door open, but paused when his name was called.

Rossi turned. "Something wrong, Aaron? You having second thoughts? It's not too late to change your mind, y'know."

"No. But I just remembered something. Everybody on this floor knows the team has been visiting every day. How are you going to explain why the team has stopped visiting? I mean, if you stop showing up, Foyet might smell a trap."

Rossi chuckled. "No need to worry, my friend. I thought about that and with Erin's help, I found the perfect solution to the problem."

Hotch arched an eyebrow. "You want to let me in on this so-called perfect solution?"

The senior agent mulled it over then smirked. "Nope. That's between me and Erin. I just have to wait for her call and its full-steam ahead."

Hotch was well aware of his friend's relationship with their Section Chief, and found it interesting to say the least. But as long as she makes Dave happy, who am I to complain? He glanced at the wall clock. "Dave, I have no idea what this plan of yours and Erin's is, but just promise me when you speak with her, try and keep the conversation clean. She is our boss, y'know."

Rossi waggled his eyebrows and grinned deviously. "Uhhhh…I can't promise, but I'll try."

Hotch rolled his eyes and shook his head. Then he stared at his best friend with a serious expression. "You better leave, and hopefully we'll see each other again in two or three days."

Rossi swallowed the lump in his throat. Neither he nor the team except for Reid would see Hotch for awhile. "I'm counting on it, Aaron. You hang onto that thought, okay?"

"I will. Good luck."

Again the older man started to leave but stopped himself. He again faced Hotch.

"Y'know, Foyet might not even show up tonight. He might wait several days before striking. He might, y'know what I mean, sorta feel things out."

"I've been thinking about that also. And I disagree. We've done everything possible to make me easily accessible to him. All he has to do is show up and we've got 'im. But I do agree with you that he might not show up tonight. I wouldn't if I was him. No, what I'd do is I would wait and watch for twenty-four hours. I'd want to be certain I had a clear path to my prize before I made a move."

"I hope you're right. Your life might depend on it."

Hotch sighed. "So do I. Now get going, and again good luck."

"You too, my friend."

Hotch, once left alone, stared at the ceiling tiles and let out a deep breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "We're all going to need it," he added as an afterthought.