Rossi led Garcia through the woods, the knife clutched in one hand and Garcia's handheld in the other. Garcia gripped the walkie-talkie tightly, nervous that if she searched through the channels again, they would miss any communication from their abductors.
"How much further do you think?" Garcia whispered.
Rossi shrugged. "Until they tell us to stop," he muttered.
Garcia pulled his jacket tighter around her shoulders, feeling guilty. "You're not cold?"
"I've been colder, Kitten."
The walkie-talkie crackled. "You're making good time, but don't get too comfortable."
Rossi snatched the walkie-talkie from Garcia's hand. "Look, you've made your point. I'll pay for whatever I've done, but leave her out."
A soft chuckle came. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, David? I let poor little Penelope wander the road until she finds some truck driver or gas station employee to call the police on me—no David. The only way she's getting out of those woods is if you do as I say, or I'm gonna put a bullet between those pretty little eyes of hers. Keep walking."
It went silent, and Garcia's eyes went wide.
"He's just trying to scare us," Rossi repeated, "Let's not give him the satisfaction."
The SUVs screeched to a halt outside the dilapidated warehouse. Hotch stepped out first, gun drawn.
"Morgan, JJ, take the back entrance. Reid, Prentiss, you're with me," he ordered.
Kevin's voice crackled through their earpieces. "I'm watching through the security cameras. Everything seems clear for now, but if WatchDog is as good in real life as he is with computers, he won't make this easy for you."
"Understood," Hotch said as he signaled for his team to move.
The warehouse was cold and empty, smelling of rust and mildew. Footsteps echoed on the concrete floor.
"Clear," Morgan called from the back entrance.
"Clear," Prentiss echoed from the far corner.
Hotch's phone buzzed.
I warned you, Aaron. Their blood is on your hands.
"He knew we were coming," Hotch said, "This was a mistake."
Reid picked up a small USB drive on a table in the middle of the room. "We need to get this back to Kevin."
—
A pond sat in the middle of a large clearing. A wooden plank stretched out over the filthy water.
"Seriously? A diving board? I barely passed gym class."
The pond was small enough that they could go around if they wanted.
"It's just something else they left to scare us," Rossi said.
"Well, it's working."
The walkie crackled. "Congratulations. One of you needs to dive under the water. There's something you need down there. If neither of you do, you will be unprepared for your next challenge.
Garcia turned to Rossi, "You are seriously thinking about doing that, are you?"
"We may not have a choice," Rossi said, "Stay here. I'll be quick."
"David, it's freezing out here. No way. And you've been drinking."
"It was Jack Daniels. It barely counts."
"I'll go. Hold my things."
"Garcia-" Rossi started but had already removed her jackets, glasses, gloves, and jewelry.
"You aren't going to win this one."
Rossi hesitated. "Take it slow."
Garcia's hands trembled as she stepped onto the plank. It wobbled slightly under her weight, and she froze.
"You don't have to do this, "Rossi said, his voice steady.
She took another step and another. The walkie crackled.
"Careful, . It's a long way down, and I'm not sure if I moved all the rocks from down there."
Garcia took a deep breath, gave Rossi one last look, and muttered. "I can't believe I'm doing this."
"You don't have to. I can do it. Or we can figure something else out."
Garcia shook her head. "That's what they want, right? For us to doubt ourselves?"
The walkie crackled, and the southern drawl seeped pretty satisfied. "Any day now, . Or are you scared you'll get your hair wet?"
"Shut up," she snapped.
Garcia stepped to the edge of the plank and peered into the murky water. With a shaky breath, she pinched her nose and leaped. The cold water enveloped her, stealing her breath. For a moment, she panicked, flailing in the murky water, but she forced herself to focus as her hands searched blindly. Her fingers grasped something solid and cold—a metal box. She gripped it tightly and kicked it to the surface.
Rossi was already at the edge, ready to pull her up. Garcia threw her arms around him, desperate to catch her breath as he threw both coats over her.
"You're alright. Just breathe," he said, "You did good, kiddo."
Garcia nodded, shivering uncontrollably as her makeup ran down her cheeks. "Let's never do that again."
Rossi examined the box. "Let's see what our friends left for us."
He pried it open with his knife, revealing a metal key.
At the BAU, Kevin inserted the USB into an isolated computer, filling the screen with encrypted files.
"This guy has a thing for puzzles. It'll take me some time to get through this."
Morgan leaned over his shoulder. "We don't have some time, Kevin. Garcia and Rossi are in danger, and every second gives the unsub more time to hurt them."
"I'm well aware," Kevin said, "But Morgan, if the unsub left this, it probably won't do you any good."
Reid stepped closer. "Can you isolate any metadata? Anything you can find could help us understand how our unsub operates."
Kevin nodded. "Got it. There's a folder labeled 'Sarah. That could help."
Hotch shook his head. "Don't touch that. WatchDog is too smart to leave something important for us. It's probably a trap."
Kevin nodded, typing furiously. "It would be encrypted anyway."
"Work fast," Hotch said, "Garcia and Rossi don't have time for us to keep finding dead ends."
Morgan crossed his arms. "If the warehouse was a trap, is there a way for you to figure out where WatchDog operates from?"
Kevin shook his head. "His location is still bouncing all over the place."
Reid tapped his chin. "Wait a minute! When Sarah Callahan was first abducted, the unsub warned her family not to get the police involved or even search for her themselves. He writes about it in his book. And when police did get involved, the unsub left clues and warnings for them, though it was weeks before her body was found. Guys, I think our unsub is the same person who killed Sarah Callahan."
