Aria had just settled into her desk at Quantico when Hotch entered the bullpen with purposeful strides, and the team immediately quieted, sensing the gravity of his demeanor.
"Okay," Hotch began, his voice cutting through the ambient noise, "we've got a situation. Bank robbery in progress in downtown D.C."
There was an immediate flurry of activity as the BAU office transformed into a hive of organized chaos. Garcia's fingers flew over the keyboard, pulling up relevant information at lightning speed. Reid and Rossi exchanged quick nods, their minds already calculating potential angles. Emily and Derek were efficient in gathering their go-bags, their expressions reflecting a blend of readiness and focused intensity.
Aria grabbed her jacket and joined the team as they hurried to the jet waiting on the tarmac. The engines roared to life as they boarded, the sleek aircraft soon slicing through the sky towards the heart of the nation's capital.
The flight was swift but tense, the team silently reviewing the initial details Hotch had shared before they left.
As they landed and descended upon the scene in downtown D.C., the atmosphere was charged with urgency. Police vehicles and SWAT teams formed a perimeter around the bank, their presence a testament to the seriousness of the situation. Hotch led them through the maze of authorities and onlookers, his focus unwavering as they set up their mobile command center.
Hotch gathered the team around him, his gaze sweeping over each member. "Aria," he said firmly, "I need you on the roof. We may need a sharpshooter if things escalate."
Aria nodded, acknowledging the directive without hesitation. She retrieved her sniper rifle from their tactical gear and swiftly made her way to the designated vantage point.
Derek took charge of liaising with local law enforcement and SWAT, coordinating their efforts seamlessly to ensure a unified strategy. Emily's sharp mind was already dissecting the patterns behind the robbery, searching for vulnerabilities they could exploit in negotiations.
JJ focused on interviewing witnesses, her empathy guiding her interactions as she listened to firsthand accounts of fear and confusion.
Hours stretched into a blur of strategy sessions, tense negotiations through bullhorns, and the occasional tense standoff. The team's collective expertise began to piece together a profile of the unsub—seasoned, potentially motivated by desperation rather than malice, but dangerous nonetheless.
Garcia's voice cut through the tension. "I've got something," she announced, drawing everyone's attention to the laptop screen displaying a mugshot from a previous conviction. "We have a match on a financial fraud case from a few years back."
Hotch nodded approvingly, his gaze flicking between the team. "Good work, Garcia. Let's use this to our advantage." The breakthrough provided a new angle for negotiation, a potential bridge to understanding the motivations driving the standoff.
The standoff reached a critical juncture as negotiations teetered on a knife's edge. Through a combination of careful negotiation tactics, tactical maneuvers orchestrated by Derek and SWAT, and the psychological insights gleaned by Emily, the situation began to de-escalate.
Minutes stretched into eternity, every second fraught with tension, until suddenly the unsub emerged from the bank, clutching a child tightly, his face a mask of desperation. The crowd held its breath as he brandished a gun, his eyes wild with fear and adrenaline.
Aria's sharp eyes narrowed as she adjusted her position on the rooftop, her sniper rifle poised with lethal precision. She tracked his movements, waiting for the perfect moment to act.
In a heartbeat, the unsub's finger tightened on the trigger, aiming the gun at the child in a desperate bid to escape. Before he could follow through with his deadly intent, Aria released a single, calculated shot from her perch on the roof.
The bullet found its mark with deadly accuracy, hitting the unsub square in the shoulder. He staggered, dropping the gun in shock and pain. SWAT moved in swiftly, apprehending him before he could recover.
The tension broke like a dam, relief flooding the scene as SWAT secured the unsub and ensured the safety of the hostages. Aria exhaled slowly, her heart still pounding from the intensity of the moment.
As Aria got back on the ground, Emily approached her, a mixture of admiration and relief in her eyes.
"You saved that child's life," Emily said softly.
Aria nodded, her gaze following the paramedics as they tended to the hostages. "It's what we do," she replied, her tone quiet.
As Aria reached her apartment front door, she sensed something was off before she even entered. Standing there, in the dimly lit hallway, was her brother Mason. His disheveled appearance and glassy eyes told her everything she needed to know—he was high again.
For a moment, Aria's heart sank, her mind racing through worst-case scenarios. But then, a wave of relief washed over her—it wasn't about what could have happened, but that Mason was here now, standing before her.
"Mason..." Aria's voice was a mixture of concern and tentative hope.
Mason's gaze hardened as Aria approached. "Hey, sis," he slurred, his words tinged with desperation. "Got any money for me?"
Aria sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping with resignation. This was not a new situation; Mason had struggled with addiction for years, and Aria had often found herself caught in this dilemma.
"We've been through this, Mason," Aria replied firmly, trying to keep her voice steady despite the frustration bubbling inside her. "I can't keep giving you money."
Mason's expression darkened, his demeanor shifting from pleading to angry in an instant. "You think you're so fucking perfect, don't you?" he snapped, taking a step closer. "You owe me for leaving me in that hell-hole."
"I don't owe you anything," Aria shot back, her own voice rising with frustration. "You need help, Mason. This isn't going to fix anything."
She could feel the heat of Mason's anger radiating off him, mixing with the stale scent of alcohol that clung to his clothes. Mason's hand twitched involuntarily, and before he could stop himself, he slapped Aria across her face. She stumbled, catching herself on the wall before she fell, the impact more startling than painful.
Immediately, Mason's eyes widened in horror, realizing what he had done. "Aria, I... I didn't mean to," he stammered, his voice trembling with remorse. "I'm sorry."
Aria rubbed her cheekbone, feeling a mixture of physical discomfort and emotional turmoil. Despite the pain, she couldn't shake the relief that Mason was here, alive and in front of her. "I'm just glad you're okay, Mason," she said softly, her voice laced with both sadness and genuine concern. "Where have you been?"
Mason looked down at the floor, unable to meet Aria's gaze. "I've been... around," he muttered vaguely, his words tinged with shame.
"Mason, please," Aria pleaded, her voice cracking with emotion. "You can't keep disappearing like this. Mom and I worry about you."
Mason shifted uncomfortably, his eyes flickering with guilt. "I know," he mumbled, his voice barely audible. "I'm trying, okay? It's just... hard."
Aria's heart ached for her brother, caught in the grip of addiction and self-destructive cycles. "You don't have to do this alone," she said softly, reaching out a tentative hand towards him.
But Mason recoiled, pulling away as if her touch burned. "I can't ask for help," he muttered bitterly. "Not from you, not from anyone." And then he left.
Aria took out her phone and dialed her mother's number, her fingers trembling slightly as she waited for the call to connect.
"Hello?" Her mother's voice sounded tired, tinged with worry.
"Mom," Aria began, her voice wavering slightly, "it's about Mason..."
As she recounted the evening's events, Aria felt a knot of sadness tighten in her chest. Her mother listened quietly, offering words of comfort and understanding. They talked for a while, reminiscing about better times and discussing potential next steps for helping Mason.
After hanging up, Aria sank into her couch, her thoughts swirling with a mix of emotions. She glanced at the framed photo on her coffee table—a snapshot of her and Mason as children, smiling brightly at the camera.
The sound of a notification broke her reverie. It was a message from Emily, checking in on her after the day's intense events. Aria felt a small spark of warmth amidst the turmoil.
She typed out a brief reply, thanking Emily.