Luke's just returning home from picking up Roxy after a few nights of dog-sitting by his neighbour when he remembers to check his mailbox. There are bills, coupons to tempt him to a burger place that he probably already frequents too often, and a letter postmarked from Florence, Colorado. This one has arrived on a quick turnaround. There have been times in the past where he'd wait a few months without a response, but as of late the correspondence had hit some consistent momentum and he could expect to see a reply every two weeks or so.

When he'd gotten his first call from Reid in Colorado, he hadn't known what to say. He'd fumbled for a topic and found one sitting on his coffee table.

"Reid, you read a lot," he'd offered.

"Yes."

"My new neighbour has been watching Roxy for me and she lent me this Russian book she's a big fan of, and I am really having a tough time with it. Do you think you could help me out?"

"If you're thinking of trying to use my opinions on literature to hit on women, I can promise you from extensive personal experience that you're not going to be very successful. I've only pulled it off once and she was a pretty rare person."

That was not the intent. "No, she's in her sixties! But she's nice and a little lonely, and I want to be able to talk to her about something she likes."

"Russian lit? I bet that Emily would have some opinions too. What's the book?" It had been the most life he'd heard in Reid's voice since the start of the call.

"It's by," he'd almost been sure that he had the right pronunciation and didn't look like a dumbass, "Dostoevsky."

There had been a silence on the end of the line just long enough to make Luke wonder if they'd been disconnected.

"Luke, man," Reid gave an incredulous laugh, "I'm not really interested in going over Crime and Punishment. I'm sort of dealing with the subject full-time right now."

"Oh! No! No, it's the Brothers Karamazov?"

Another pause.

"Well, at least it isn't the House of the Dead." There was something wry in his tone.

"I...don't know what that means."

"It's another one of his novels, about a Siberian prison camp. Luke, in the Brothers Karamazov one of the brothers gets arrested for a murder he doesn't commit."

"Shit. Reid-"

"...it's an amazing novel. A lot of people would argue that it's the benchmark of modern literature. It's fine, Luke. How far into it are you?"

Luke had gotten about six pages into the first chapter on their flight home from a case in Washington state before giving up and talking to Rossi about his new barbecue instead. Reid had told him to send him a letter with his thoughts on the first chapter, and Luke had accidentally started a book club. They'd finished the Brothers Karamazov early last year and were now in the midst of Gabrielle Garcia Marquez's One Hundred Years of Solitude. Reid had taken the joke well when Luke had suggested the Count of Monte Cristo, though.

In all honesty, he'd expected to return the unread Dostoevsky novel to Cheryl with an apology after about a week. There wasn't much riding on it and he's more of a non-fiction type of guy. It was a way to engage with Reid and he took it because the correspondence helped mitigate his guilt just a little.

Reid never once mentions the thing that hangs over Luke's head. Based on the information from Tara's cognitive interviews with Reid, it was abundantly clear that Mr. Scratch had set him up. The modus operandi was perfectly consistent, and the man had been hellbent on destroying the BAU. This time he was extremely successful in the damage he'd caused.

Luke had been the one there when Peter Lewis had fallen. If he'd been just a little faster they might have taken him into custody and heard the confession they needed regarding Nadie Ramos' murder. If Luke could have pulled him up to safety, everything would have been entirely different. But Lewis had slipped away and so had Reid's best chance to have his name cleared. Without the possibility of exonerating testimony and in the face of enough evidence to see a murder conviction if the case went to trial, Fiona had convinced Reid to accept the DA's second offer and plead guilty to manslaughter.

Luke will never quite be able to let it go. He wishes he could release it the way that Scratch's hand had simply lost its hold on the ledge. Let it drop like that maniac went down to the pavement, taking Reid along with him.

Emily was still recovering from her time with Scratch, but the rest of the team had all been present at the post-indictment arraignment. Reid had seemed so tired and defeated when he'd entered his plea. The judge had dispensed with the sentencing then and there, and it was done. Reid had given them a long and hopeless last look as he was being taken into custody. Then he was simply gone. Penelope had held it together just long enough for him to be led out of sight before she was sobbing in Luke's arms. It had taken hours before she'd exhausted her tears.

Luke enjoys the letters that Reid sends and should probably be paying tuition for them. He isn't as dryly academic as Luke had worried, though. He offers interesting clarifications and context, and occasionally goes off on his characteristic wild tangents. When they run their course, they end up circling back to the subject at hand to paint everything in unexpected new light. Reid also genuinely wants Luke's opinions. He's just as interested in how Luke interprets and values the reading as he is in reflecting on more scholastic interpretations of the text. Luke knows that the man is a genius but continues to be stunned by the breadth of his knowledge, especially when he considers the deprivation of Reid's circumstances these days. When he'd checked what translation Reid was using for Dostoevsky, he'd learned that he wasn't actually reading the book at all. He was quoting everything from memory and could reference three different versions by heart. He could have translated the Russian himself if Luke wanted to send him a paperback copy.

Roxy butts her head against his thigh with a whine when he flops down on the living room couch. She's got her favourite squeaky toy and a list of demands for him now that he's finally home. He tosses the letter on the coffee table for the evening. His girl has missed him and she deserves his full attention. He'll get to Reid a little later.


They'd returned from their case in Oregon on a Tuesday, so he's back in Quantico the next day with a sense of resentment for the time difference from the west coast and with a tall stack of paperwork waiting for him. If the job was a television show, it'd cut out the days on end where they type up reports and go over procedure.

It isn't a bad day. He takes a long coffee break to visit Penelope. She pretends not to enjoy his company and they build a ridiculous speculative profile around Anderson's new girlfriend. Garcia's at the top of her enthusiasm today, which warms him to see. It's been slowly growing a little thinner over the past several years. Luke gets the sense that Penelope is preparing for her time with the FBI to end in the not-too-distant future. He will be sad when she leaves but wonders if he might find an opportunity there if he can work up the courage. There'd be no fraternization rules to worry about anymore.

At lunch, there's free leftover pizza in the breakroom from someone's birthday, and Tara tells him a story about how in college she'd photocopied two-for-one slice coupons from a local pizzeria and lived off of cheese and pepperoni for a semester before they caught on. In the afternoon he makes decent headway with the section of the report he's been working on. He's feeling good about wrapping it up before he heads off for the day when everything goes totally sideways.

Emily calls Matt into her office and closes the door. That door stays open unless there's serious and sensitive matters to discuss. Luke shoots a glance at JJ, who frowns back at him. Matt's voice isn't quite loud enough to really make out from the bullpen, but the volume is enough to indicate trouble. Something is very wrong.

It isn't long before Emily walks Matt out with a hand on his tensed shoulder. He's pale and looking frantic. He makes a momentary stop at his desk for his jacket without offering so much as a glance at anyone, and then he's off down the hallway to the elevators. Emily calls them into the roundtable room.

Luke slides into his seat with apprehension, meeting JJ's worried eyes again. Reddy seems overwhelmed; he's only a month into his new role at the BAU and it is clear to him that something unprecedented is happening here.

Emily looks a little shaken herself, but quickly slips into the professional. "I just received a call from the Federal Correctional Institute in Hazelton, West Virginia. Cat Adams has been demanding to speak to us since before noon. The corrections officers weren't giving in at first, but she spoke with the warden a little over an hour ago. Adams gave her Matt's address. They tipped off the police, who checked in on the Simmons' home. Right now we're looking at an abduction scenario. The girls and the baby were left behind locked in a bathroom-they're safe, and with Kristy's mother right now. Kristy and the boys were taken."

"Cat Adams?" Luke is unfamiliar.

"Aka Miss .45, the Black Widow Killer. An international hitwoman, over 200 confirmed kills. Garcia's sending you the files for review. The team arrested her as a part of a sting operation on an assassin network in January 2016. Reid posed as a man looking to have his wife killed. She figured it out, but he was able to convince her that he'd located her father. She'd been searching for him for years in order to kill him. It was a fabrication but it worked to trap her."

"And what connection does she have to Matt?"

"She doesn't. Matt says he's heard of her, but it's unclear how she'd have any details about him. She's refusing to talk further to the correctional staff and says she'll only speak to the BAU.

Reddy and Lewis, I want you to speak with the Simmons girls. We need any information we can get from them regarding the abduction. This is delicate. Tara, as much as we could use your insight when we talk to Adams, you're probably the most likely one of us to be able to get useful details from the children. I need Rossi and JJ with me for their prior experience with her." She eyes Luke across the table. "You're coming to West Virginia. Wheels up in fifteen."


It's a short flight from Quantico to the small airstrip in Bruceton Mills, West Virginia. Luke calls Cheryl to emergency dog-sit for him again, then reviews the Adams' file. It's a chilling one. That's a hell of a body count, and her skill at manipulation seems unparalleled. There's a note about two separate assassinations where she actually just talked the targets into killing themselves. The file describes her as a genius when it comes to planning, and the success she'd had in her career confirms it. It's obvious that the abduction is a piece of a bigger picture.

"She likes to play games," says JJ. "She made Spence tell her sensitive personal information in order to win her compliance, and used the game to misdirect him while a bomb was hidden under the building."

"She'll have been working on something," Rossi offers. "Nothing will be spur of the moment here, it'll be meticulous. She's very competent at improvising on the go, but this will have been planned for some time."

"The kidnapping is just the first move, then." It sounds to Luke like they're walking into some sort of larger scenario here. Even in a cage, a mind as sharp as the one Cat Adams has is a dangerous weapon.

"She might know about Reid." Emily's expression goes tight. "She'll have fun with that if she does. Be prepared for her to use it to upset us."


It's well after six when they get to the prison colloquially known as Misery Mountain. It has the same unwelcoming aura as every other penitentiary he's ever visited. There are the ubiquitous squat, utilitarian buildings and vacant spaces with clear lines of sight, encased by high fencing and lit harshly in the dimming evening. There's a medium security men's unit on the grounds and the Bureau of Prison's proud newest addition to their facilities: the women's secure unit. It houses the most dangerous women in the federal system.

The warden greets them as soon as they arrive. She walks them to the interrogation room where Cat Adams is waiting, explaining that Cat had a history of violent behavior near the start of her incarceration but that since her transfer to Hazelton she's been a model prisoner for the past three years. She tutors with the GED program and is held in high regard by her fellow inmates. The warden has had to caution guards for being friendly with her, but never in an inappropriate capacity that would entail an official reprimand. She leaves them to it after agreeing to send Garcia a list of names of all staff contacts that Adams could have, as well as files on the inmates currently on her block.

The interrogation room is equipped with a one-way mirror, and he and Emily leave Rossi and JJ to the opposite side of it. The unfamiliar team members might pique Adams' curiosity while frustrating her expectations, and as a misandrist she'll likely be excited by the possibility of a man to manipulate. Emily will take lead and he'll look masculine, handsome and stupid. Maybe she'll take the bait.

Cat Adams is small and dark-haired. She could be considered pretty, but there's something disturbingly flat about her eyes. She gives them an enormous smile when they enter the room.

"You're here! I've been waiting all day."

Prentiss is curt with the introductions. "Hi Cat. We've never met. This is Supervisory Special Agent Luke Alvez, and I'm Emily Prentiss, Unit Chief of the BAU."

"Absolute pleasure. This is a different beefy guy than I met last time." She narrows her eyes. "Lots of personnel changes at the Bureau?"

Emily nods. "We're here to talk to you about the abduction of Kristy, Jake and David Simmons today. You provided information that alerted the police to their absence."

"Yep. I did it. Not personally, but I am blessed with so many wonderful friends in this world."

"Let's talk about it. Tell me about your friends, and what the Simmons family has to do with you."

"Your co-worker's wife and boys are fine, but the situation is a little time-sensitive so I'm going to cut to the chase. I don't want to talk to you. Not even you, cupcake." She winks at Luke.

"You just told us you've spent all day waiting for us, Cat. Why the about-face?"

"I want to talk to Dr. Reid again." She says it likes it's the most obvious conclusion in the world.

The degree that Emily stiffens is almost imperceptible. "He's no longer employed by the FBI."

"I would certainly hope not, after his behaviour. I get the news, even if the Bureau did their best to sweep it under the rug. He sounds like he's way more fun than my first impression of him. Doing speedballs and getting into car chases? Wild." She shoots Emily a sly grin. "And a murder too. Real party. Wish we'd gotten to know each other in that context, I think we'd really have hit it off."

Emily tries to redirect her attention. "I've got Agents Rossi and Jareau present if you'd prefer to speak to either of them. They'll be familiar from the day of your arrest."

"No. I want to talk to Spencer Reid." Adams crosses her arms with all the attitude of a moody teenager.

"He's currently serving a sentence in a federal prison, Cat. You can't talk to him."

"We have so much in common right now. He's a convicted killer in a federal prison, I'm a convicted killer in a federal prison. I just feel like we'd really be able to connect." Her tone is playful, but her body language is confrontational. She's drawing a line in the sand.

"It isn't possible."

"Here's the thing. My friends are waiting for a call from me and if they don't hear back by tomorrow evening, Matt Simmons is a widower with only three children." The look she gives them is intended to be sincere. It's doubtful that she has the emotional capacity for it. "I promise you that I will make that phone call once I've talked to Dr. Reid."

Emily frowns. Luke is purely decorative at the moment and waits for her to make a decision.

"I can see if it's possible to arrange a call between the two of you," Emily concedes. "He might not be interested, though, since this isn't his job anymore."

This is an understatement. Reid does groundskeeping as his work assignment at the prison these days, and gets paid about two dollars a day for it.

Cat finds the offer totally unsatisfactory. "No. That's not going to do it. What's going to happen is that you're going to get him brought here." She taps on the table. "You're not going to see him before he sees me, and nobody is going to tell him where he's headed or why. I'll know if you cheat. I want it to be a surprise. We're going to have a real heart-to-heart, and then I'll call my friends."

"How do I know you won't make us jump through a whole different set of hoops once I get Spencer here?"

"I promise?" The sharp little smile accompanying her words is strangely reminiscent of steel bear trap.

"It isn't possible, Cat."

"That's too bad. My condolences to Mr. Simmons. I was careful to leave him the girls, though. I'm sure the boys are lovely but you just never know what they'll turn into when they grow up." Her mocking consolation is replaced by vindicative pleasure in an instant. "Certainly not in this case."

Emily assesses Cat without expression.

"Alright, we're done. Based on your behaviour today, I imagine your time here is going to become more unpleasant for the foreseeable future."

Adams shrugs it off. "Well, I'll be comforted by the fact that Dr. Reid is somewhere finding it unpleasant too. Thanks for swinging by!"