Rossi buttoned his coat as he walked through the parking garage, his footsteps echoing
off the concrete walls. He glanced at his watch. It was nearly midnight, and the garage was
almost empty. He fished his keys from his pocket, his mind already on the whisky he would have
when he got home.
"Rossi!"
He turned to see Penelope jogging toward him, wearing bright pink gloves matching her
coat and high heels.
"What are you still doing here?"
"Technical difficulties," she replied, "Well, nothing technical can ever indeed be difficult
for yours truly, so technical annoyances would be more of a proper term. Our most recent unsub
deleted many of his files, deleted the deleted file, and so forth. I had the pleasure of digging
through a Russian nesting doll of files and lost data until I finally uncovered everything he was
hiding."
Rossi smirked. "Maybe you should learn the art of going home at a reasonable hour."
"I could say the same for you," she said, "Besides, I couldn't leave you to walk through
here all by your lonesome."
Before Rossi could respond, a metallic clang echoed from somewhere behind them.
Penelope jumped but recovered quickly, assuming it was nothing. The sound came again,
closer this time. Rossi looked around the garage and took a cautious step forward. Then, a van
skidded into view, its tires screeching and its headlights blinding.
"Who's that?" Penelope asked.
Rossi stepped in front of Penelope. His hand fell to his holster.
"I don't know. Stay behind me."
The driver's side door opened, and a man stepped out. "Agent Rossi and . I
must say, I was only hoping to collect one of you, but I'm more than happy to take two."
"What's going on?" Penelope whispered.
"Who are you?" Rossi called out.
The figure took a step forward. "That doesn't matter. What matters is you have
something to answer for."
Rossi stiffened. "Listen, son, you don't want to do this. Whatever's bothering you, we can
talk about it."
The figure let out a soft laugh. "Talk is cheap, David. Talking didn't save my sister.
Writing won't bring her back. It means nothing to you when you fail. All you care about is your
next book deal, but after I'm through with you, you'll die knowing what a pathetic little man you
are."
"Your sister? Who was she?"
The figure raised his arm, and Rossi caught sight of a small canister. Before he could
react, he threw it at their feet. Smoke erupted, filling the garage with a gray haze.
"Run!" Rossi grabbed Penelope's arm and pulled her toward the far end of the garage.
Penelope stumbled in her heels, her eyes watering. "I can't can't see."
"Just keep moving!" Rossi ordered, guiding her through the smoke. They didn't make it
far before a second figure emerged from the smoke, shoving Rossi to the ground. His ears rang
as his head made contact with the concrete. His vision blurred, and his eyes stung as he
watched Penelope get dragged backward, a hand over her mouth as she struggled.
"Rossi! No! Don't hurt him!"
Rossi reached for his weapon, but his vision went black before his hand found the grip.
Rossi's head throbbed as he woke up. The scent of wet earth filled his nostrils, and trees
towered above him.
"Rossi?"
He turned his head, wincing at the pain in his neck. Penelope was propped up against a
tree, her hands bound with rope. Her coat and face were covered in tears and mud.
"I'm here," he said. Rossi tried to move his arms, but they were tied with rope. He
shifted, struggling against the restraints. "Are you hurt?"
"I don't think so," Penelope said, "They were pretty…gentle with me after you got
knocked out. The bigger one kept apologizing and asking if I was comfortable. I had a
bag over my head, so I never saw how they took us."
Before Rossi could respond, a voice crackled from a walkie-talkie that sat just out of
reach. "Welcome Agent Rossi. Let's see if you can protect ."
The bullpen was unusually quiet as the team trickled in. Emily glanced at the clock and
smirked.
"Anyone see Rossi this morning, or did he finally learn how to retire?"
JJ shrugged as she passed through, holding a box of files. "I haven't heard from him, but
it's not like him to be this late without a reason."
"Maybe he finally found his fourth wife, and the two of them on their way to the
courthouse," Morgan added.
"Has anyone heard from Garcia? I haven't seen her either," Prentiss said.
"That's strange too," JJ said, "She and I usually get here at the same time. I just
assumed she was busy."
Before anyone could respond, Hotch stepped out of his office. "Rossi's car is still in the
garage. Something's not right."
Morgan stood. "If Garcia's car is gone, maybe she went home."
Hotch frowned. "I'll have Kevin come and look through their phones. JJ, call security and
have them pull the footage from last night."
Kevin was in Garcia's office in less than a minute, typing furiously to pull up the location
data for both their phones.
"They're both offline. The last ping for either was in the garage just after midnight."
JJ approached her phone to her ear. "Security sent the footage from last night. Should
be in Garcia's email."
Hotch nodded. "Kevin, go through the footage frame by frame. I want every detail."
"Consider it done, sir," Kevin said.
The team huddled in the room and watched the video.
"Pause it," Hotch said as a figure stepped out of the van.
"What's that in his hand?" JJ asked.
"Smoke canister," Hotch said, "He used it to disorient them."
"Can you get a picture of the license plate on the van?" JJ asked.
Hotch shook his head. "The plate is covered, but the bumper has a dent. It's not much,
but it gives us something."
An email popped up on Hotch's phone.
Agent Rossi and are alive for now. Do not pursue them if you want them to
stay that way. This is between David and me. Any suspicion of interference, and they're
both dead.