Rossi took a breath to steady himself. Garcia was alive. She was in pain, but she was alive. He picked up the walkie-talkie and forced himself to speak in a conversational tone.

"You talk a big game," he said, "But we all know you're losing control."

Beckett chuckled. "You think so? Because I have total control over Miss Penelope, and she's all I care about now."

"Then why are you still talking to me? You're stalling. If we were back in our glory days, you would have killed us both by now and skipped town. But you didn't, and you're keeping her alive because you know she's the only thing keeping you alive.

It was silent.

"You like the sound of your voice, don't you, Agent Rossi?"

"I've been doing this job a long time. You used to be able to keep me on my toes, but now, all these years of hiding like a rat have made you sloppy, and all your years of self-adulation have made you think you're better than you are."

Another silence. Rossi glanced out the window to see Prentiss was still there.

Beckett exhaled sharply. "If you know me so well, David, what happens next."

Rossi smiled. "Well, now you're running out of options."

Suddenly, a loud bang echoed through the walkie-talkie.

"Guess we'll have to see how fast your team can get here," Beckett said, excitement infecting his voice.

"If you-"

There was a scream from Garci and then a crash. Rossi shouted out the window.

"Prentiss! Shots fired! Go help them."

Prentiss hesitated momentarily before turning and running in the direction Morgan had gone.

Garcia's vision blurred as Beckett took her glasses. She tried to resist, but he was strong. She just needed to wait a little longer. The best team in the world was coming to find her.

"Help! I'm down here! Somebody! Morgan! JJ! Reid! Hotch! Somebody!"

Beckett locked an arm around her waist and dragged her backward, holding the knife against her throat. "Don't think they're going to save you, sweetheart. I can end this all before you even see them again."

"Then why haven't you? It's because you know if you kill me, my team will kill you, and I'm not a profiler, but Beckett, I think you're afraid to die."

Beckett spun her around, slamming her against the wall. "Don't tempt me, sweetheart."

"Go ahead then, do it. I've lived a good life. I'll have people who will mourn me. You are going to die, Beckett. It may be today, it could be tomorrow, it could be twenty years from now with a needle in your arm. It doesn't matter because no one will care when you die."

His grip tightened, and the knife pressed into Garcia's throat enough to produce tiny red droplets. Garcia clenched her teeth at the sting from the knife. She didn't want to die, but she refused to beg. Above them was the pounding of footsteps.

" Your friends will have to start mourning soon. Any last words, sweetheart?"

Garcia forced herself to look him in the eyes. "You should have run when Rossi gave you the chance."

A crash came from above, and light flooded the bunker. Beckett dragged her backward, forcing Garcia to scramble. Boots thudded against the ground, and even though Garcia couldn't see well, she knew who it was. Morgan. Beckett held Garcia in front of him, kissing her temple.

"You're too late, agent. She's mine."

Morgan's gun was raised. "It's over, Beckett. Let her go."

Beckett let out a low chuckle as he dragged the knife against Garcia's throat, not enough to do any damage. Just enough to make her wince.

"I think I still have the upper hand."

Hotch and JJ emerged from the dark tunnel that led away from the bunker, their weapons aimed.

"Beckett, your only way out of here is if you let her go," Hotch said.

Beckett's grip tightened. "Agent Morga, do you think you're faster than my knife? Eric certainly did."

Morgan took a step forward. "You aren't faster than a bullet."

Before Beckett could react, a crack rang out in the bunker. Beckett's body jerked, and his grip loosened. A strong pair of arms pulled Garcia away from him. Morgan caught Garcia, shielding her as Hotch secured the knife. Prentiss was already on the ground, checking Eric's pulse and shaking her head.

Morgan pressed a hand to Garcia's cheek, his thumb running along the fine line where the knife had pierced her skin.

"Hey Babygirl. I've got you. You're okay," he whispered before drawing her closer and tenderly kissing the wound before wrapping his arms tightly around her.

"I've been better."

JJ stepped forward. "Reid's outside waiting on the medics. We should get you out of here."

Garcia clung to Morgan. "What about Rossi? Where's he?"

"He's still in the cabin," Prentiss said, "He was worried it might be rigged."

"It is," Garcia said, "Beckett told me that as soon as anyone opens the door, it'll set off a bomb. That's why he had Eric bring me down here, so he could…keep me."

Hotch nodded. "Then we need to get a bomb squad out here. Morgan, you and Reid will return to the cabin and see what you can find."

Morgan didn't remove his arm from around Penelope's shoulders. "Hotch, I doubt the guy left a disarm code lying around.

"This is why I need you and Reid to check the cabin. You have the most knowledge on bombs."

Garcia gripped Morgan's arms. "He said as soon as someone opens the cabin door, it'll set off a bomb, so I think as long as you don't touch the doo,r you should be fine, right?"

Hotch turned to Morgan. "Go. Get Reid. I want both of you to check out the cabin. Look for any backup triggers."

Morgan squeezed Garcia's shoulder before removing his arm and leaving the bunker.

Hotch picked up the walkie-talkie and pressed the button. "Dave, do you hear me? It's Hotch. We found Garcia. She's safe. Beckett and Callahan are dead. Reid and Morgan are coming back to help you. Don't touch the door."

Rossi pressed his back against the far wall of the cabin, dropped the knife, and let it clatter to the floor. That wouldn't help him now. He heard footsteps on the porch.

"Stop! Don't take another step!"

"Rossi, it's me and Morgan," Reid said, "Garcia says a bomb is connected to the door. We're going to get you out. Can you tell me what you can see in there?"

Rossi took a step near the door. "There is no visible wiring, but it could be rigged underneath, or something could be connected to the hinges."

"Okay," Reid said, "Do you see anything that could be a secondary trigger?"

Rossi glanced around, inspecting every corner of the cabin. On the bookshelf, there was nothing except the TV—wait the TV.

"There's a TV in here. That could be something."