Chapter Eighteen

08/07/2019. 01:08 hours. Underground Parking Complex, FBI Offices, Quantico, Virginia.

David sighed with frustration and pushed his cell phone into his jeans pocket. He had tried several times to contact Matt and Spencer to inform them that he and Emily had returned from San Quentin where they had been questioning the correctional officers, however, neither of them were answering his calls. He glanced at Emily as she approached with her go bag slung over her shoulder.

"Everything okay, Dave?" asked Emily.

"No. I've been trying to call Simmons and Reid several times but no one's answering, nor has anyone returned my calls. I'm worried."

"If Reid was at the hospital again, Matt or the hospital staff would have called."

"Yeah. There's just something that's not sitting right. Call it a gut feeling or intuition."

"It's only fifteen minutes to your house from here, right?"

"Yeah."

"Then stop your babbling and get your ass in the car. We'll go and see if the famous David Rossi's gut still has it." Emily pointed a black key fob at a nearby SUV, the orange lights of the indicators flashing against the walls as the car unlocked. She threw her go bag on the back seat and clambered into the driver's side. David slumped into the passenger seat and grasped the handle above the door. He knew that Emily would floor the engine as soon as they were out of the underground parking complex to get to his mansion in record time.

08/07/2019. 01:11 hours. David Rossi's House, Virginia.

Spencer warily eyed Director Michaels as the older man circled him. His vision had blurred considerably since his spectacles had been removed and shattered. Matt had not moved from his slumped position on the floor. Spencer's limbs had long since gone numb from his bonds. The Director was clearly hoping his silence would drive the genius mad, though it was having the opposite effect. Spencer let out a huff through his nose and rolled his eyes. Michaels caught on from the corner of his eye and grasped a handful of Spencer's curls, wrenching his head back. Spencer managed to suppress a groan of pain. Michaels leaned in close, his Scotch-tainted breath hot against Spencer's cheek.

"Am I boring you, Dr Reid?" Even without permission to speak with the tape over his mouth, Spencer did not want to dignify this man with a response. "You arrested my son, David. I had to watch them stick a needle in his vein because of you. So, I had to find a way to make you pay, and to do that, I had to take you away from your team. My boy, Lee, was desperate to get his hands on you. What better way to get you alone than have you do a custodial at the very prison he's the warden of? A few backhand payments, and the officers thought nothing of helping him in any way they could. His plan was spectacular. Have three inmates who you arrested rape you and then put you to your own death. Unfortunately, your team intervened and killed him. Now, both of my boys are dead, and it's because of you. So I'm going to end you once and for all. No one will think twice about a crazy man who attempted suicide once trying to kill himself again."

A low snarl sounded from deep within Spencer's throat, his eyes aflame with rage. It was clicking into place in his head. The pair had clearly planned this for some time. Director Michaels already knew about his severe PTSD and took the opportunity to execute their plan. Michaels released his hold on Spencer's hair and slid a pen knife out of his jacket pocket. He crouched down and rested the blade against one of the zip ties holding Spencer's ankles to the chair legs.

"Kick me if you dare, boy, and this knife will go straight in your throat. Understood?" Spencer nodded stiffly. Michaels quickly severed the zip ties around Spencer's ankles and straightened up. Spencer groaned at the sudden rush of circulation and sensation in his numb feet. He experimentally moved his feet. Michaels sawed through the rope binding him to the backrest of the chair. As the rope fell away, Michaels grabbed the back of the strait jacket at the nape of Spencer's neck and yanked him onto his feet. The heavy material pressed painfully into Spencer's throat.

"Move. Time for you to meet your maker, Dr Reid." With the hand still firmly grasping the back of the strait jacket, Spencer was forced to walk forward with clumsy steps out through the kitchen into the expansive back garden.

The glow from the stringed light bulbs above them highlighted one of David's dining chairs set up beneath a thick, sturdy tree branch where a length of rope had been wrapped several times around it, a clear noose hanging down. Spencer struggled against Michaels' hold. With a harsh shove, he stumbled towards his imminent demise. Michaels slipped the Glock out of his pocket and jabbed it into Spencer's back.

"Get up on the chair, Dr Reid." Spencer hesitated. "Your friends won't get here in time, so there's no point in getting your hopes up. Agents Rossi and Prentiss are out of state. Agent Simmons won't wake for a while yet. The others have no reason to come over here." The gun pressed harder into Spencer's back. "On the chair. Now." Spencer swallowed hard and clambered up onto the chair, a task made difficult with his arms bound. Michaels pulled up a footstool he had retrieved from David's lounge and set it next to the chair. He climbed onto it and pulled the noose down slightly and hooked it around Spencer's thin neck. He tightened it, the knot digging painfully into the back of his neck, the rope sitting under the hinge of Spencer's jaw. The genius knew that the noose was placed in the most effective way for a quick and successful hanging. The knot would cause an immediate fracture of the C2 vertebrae, instantly severing the brain from the spinal cord. He briefly considered kicking Michaels as the Director stepped off the foot stool and leaned down, though he suspected he would most likely lose his balance and hang himself. Spencer stood compliantly as Michaels retrieved another zip tie from his pocket and bound the young man's ankles tightly together. Spencer winced at the pain, the plastic tie tight enough to cut off circulation. A breeze picked up, ruffling Spencer's loose curls that had not been trapped under the duct tape. He blinked. For all his vision was blurry, he could make out the figure of Matt moving on the floor. Michaels glanced over his shoulder, noticing that the other agent was waking up. He climbed onto the foot stool once more and pulled a long strip of thick black cloth out of his pocket. Spencer shook his head wildly, his pleas silenced, as Michaels draped it across his eyes, pulling it tight and knotting it in his hair at the back of his head. Michaels smirked at the trembling man before turning to glance back to the house.

Matt peeled open his eyes and gazed around. His head felt fuzzy. Director Michaels had dosed him with a sedative. He slowly sat himself up and blinked several times to clear his vision. He noticed that the chair Spencer had been seated in was vacant and Michaels was nowhere to be seen. Matt tilted his hips up slightly to eject the handcuff key from his pocket, but it remained trapped in the folds of cloth. He twisted his arms around painfully to dig in his pocket but was still unable to reach. He stretched his shoulders and pulled his buttocks through his arms. His shoulders protested loudly as he wriggled his legs through his cuffed arms, bringing his hands in front of him. He dove straight for the coffee table and collected his Glock. Just as he cocked the clip on the gun, David's front door burst open, slamming hard against the wall behind it. David and Emily entered with their guns drawn. Emily instantly noticed Matt.

"Are you okay? What's going on?" asked Emily, concern etched into her face.

"Yeah. I was knocked out with a sedative. I don't know where Reid is. He was in the chair over there and now he's gone." Matt indicated to the vacant chair with a tilt of his head as Emily freed him from the handcuffs. David noted the open back door. He nodded towards the garden.

"Out back." The trio raised their guns in front of them and crept towards the garden.

They were horrified at the sight of Spencer secured with a straitjacket, gagged and blindfolded, balancing on a chair with a noose around his neck and his ankles bound. Matt felt a pang of guilt in his chest given that he was the one who put their friend in the straitjacket and gagged him. Director Michaels stood beside the chair, his foot poised on the seat, ready to kick it away at any given moment. Emily swallowed hard, desperately praying for her compartmentalisation to kick in.

"Director Michaels? This doesn't have to be this way. I know you're grieving for your sons, but you know this isn't right. Your son, David, got the justice that was served to him by the United States for crimes that you know are abhorrent. You also know that FBI agents are trained to shoot if they feel threatened or an assailant draws a weapon. Lee drew his weapon on us. We responded exactly as we were trained to. You know Dr Reid was just doing his job when he arrested David. You chose to turn it into a sick vendetta. Let Dr Reid go," reasoned Emily. David's lips were pressed tightly together, his deep brown eyes glaring hatefully at the Director.

"Dr Reid has no place in the FBI. He never has. If it weren't for Jason Gideon, he would never have made it into the academy."

"You know that's not true, Director. Dr Reid is a vital member of the BAU. Without him, we would not have been able to solve as many cases as we have. Yes, he has been through a lot, but he's a lot stronger than anyone gives him credit for. You know this is wrong. It makes you as bad as your sons."

"Guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree," sneered David, his finger dancing over the trigger. Director Michaels swung his Glock towards the agents.

In a split second, there was a burst of gunfire and yells. Everything happened in a blur. Matt had already seen what was about to happen and silently crept towards Spencer, his gun tucked into the holster on his hip. Wisps of smoke trailed out of the barrel of David's gun as he fired a shot at the Director, successfully hitting him between the eyes. Emily yelled to Matt as Director Michaels' corpse dropped heavily against the chair, knocking it out from under Spencer's feet. Spencer gave a muffled and choked gasp, his toes trying to find purchase against the grass. The rope was cutting into his throat. His ears were ringing from the gunshot. Matt grasped Spencer's legs and hoisted him up to relieve the pressure around his neck. Emily rifled through the Director's pockets and retrieved the pen knife from inside of his jacket. She clasped between her teeth and stood the chair back up. She clambered onto the chair and grasped the rope with one hand to steady herself and flicked out the blade which glinted in the light. Sweat beaded her brow as she sawed through the rope. The rope separated. Matt caught Spencer in his arms and laid him down on the grass. David knelt down and slipped the blindfold up over Spencer's head. Spencer's eyes were wide and watering, the whites of his eyes reddened from the lack of oxygen. Emily sliced through the tape next to the genius' ear and peeled it away from his skin. Spencer coughed, forcing the cloth out of his mouth. His mouth gaped as he gasped for breath, coughing and spluttering at the fire in his throat and lungs. Matt tugged the noose off from around his neck. Spencer's skin had a deep red line forming around his throat.

"You're okay, Spence. Take some deep breaths," instructed Emily. Spencer was trying to sit up and was audibly wheezing, each breath followed by a harsh cough. Spencer averted his gaze to Matt.

"Thank… You…" rasped Spencer painfully. His throat felt like it was aflame and sliced with razor blades. Matt ducked his head.

"I'm sorry, Reid." Matt looked up at Emily and David. "Michaels made me put Reid in the straitjacket, tie him to a chair and gag him. He had a gun to Reid's head. He had an agent outside of my house… He was going to kill Kristy and the kids if I didn't do what he wanted."

"'s okay…." panted Spencer as he tried to regain his breath, his chest vividly rising and falling. "You… Saved me…. Thank you…"

"I'm going to call for a medic," stated David, straightening to his feet and sliding his cell phone out of his pocket. He turned and headed towards the house.

"Please…. Get these off me…." Emily brought the blade of the knife between Spencer's ankles, taking care not to cut him, and severed the zip tie binding them together. She dropped the knife to the grass beside her knee and gathered Spencer into a hug. He nuzzled the crook of her neck as Matt got to work unbuckling the straps at the back of the jacket. Emily pulled away slightly and unfastened the strap at the front that held his arms together. Spencer's arms fell to his sides and he shrugged the heavy straitjacket off. He curled his bandaged arms around Emily's waist and pulled her in close.

"Thank you… All of you… Thank you…" Spencer's breathing had begun to even out, though the wheeze from his throat remained evident as David returned.

"Ambulance is five minutes out. I called the rest of the team. They're going to meet us at the hospital. I've made it clear that if Reid has to go to Bethesda, he has to have at least one of us with him at all times. I spoke to Cruz and asked for a CSU to come and process… This…" David gazed sadly into Spencer's eyes. Spencer simply blinked and smiled at him. There was a glint in those hazel orbs that gave David a warm feeling in his chest. Spencer mouthed "thank you" at him, then buried his face into Emily's shoulder. Matt cradled the pair on the ground. David smiled fondly. Things were going to get better. He could feel it in his water.