The Lost Ones, 20/?
Title: The Lost Ones
Rating: R
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Characters/Pairing: Morgan/Prentiss
Genre: Romance/Suspense
Summary: Chicago, 1997. A beat cop and a federal agent join forces to solve the mystery behind the disappearance of a homeless teenager. They uncover a conspiracy that turns their fight for justice into a fight for their lives.
The Lost Ones
Chapter Twenty
After what felt like hours of questioning door to door, Aaron Hotchner had found no-one that could tell him anything of importance. As with any door-to-door, there had been people who had lied through their teeth, people who thought he was there to fix the toilet, people who asked him whether or not he could do anything about the neighbors playing their music too loudly…
But no-one that could tell him anything about two law enforcement officers that had seemingly vanished without a trace.
But then…maybe searching door to door was the wrong option. The case had started on the streets, and he was more likely to get useful intel, even if the majority of people he saw would refuse to talk to a federal agent.
Twenty minutes in, he struck pay dirt, and all it had cost him was a cup of coffee. The young man clutched the cup tightly, avoiding eye contact.
‘Did something happen to Eric?’ he mumbled, and Hotch found himself frowning.
‘Who’s Eric?’
‘He was talking to them.’ The young man gestured to the photos that Hotch had just shown him. ‘He was talking to them, and now he’s gone. I think they took him.’
‘Who’s “they”?’
The man shrugged. ‘I dunno. There’s been a lot of talk about people being kidnapped for sex. Human trafficking, you know?’
Hotch swore inwardly. If Morgan and Prentiss had inadvertently uncovered a human trafficking ring, then they were as good as lost. Either dead, or sold along the line. The best he could hope for was that they hadn’t gone too far just yet.
* * *
In lieu of any other option, he drove back to the Chicago Field Office - his own knowledge of human trafficking was sub-par. After several painstaking attempts, he was finally directed to someone that could help him.
‘Philip Farnsworth,’ the man introduced himself. ‘You’re BAU?’
Hotch nodded. ‘Aaron Hotchner. I’m investigating the disappearance of Officer Derek Morgan and Agent Emily Prentiss.’
‘And you think they might have gotten lost in the world of human trafficking.’
Hotch went over the details of the case so far, starting with the kidnapping of Steven Simmons, and ending with the conversation he’d just had with the young man on the street.
Well, in that case, you’ve come to the right place,’ Philip grimaced. ‘And it sounds as though someone probably should have come a little sooner.’
He passed Hotch a thick file. ‘Most people hear trafficking and they think “Russian brides” or sex slaves, but the truth is, there’s a lot more trafficking from inside the borders than you might think. It’s usually women and children, though. If these guys are kidnapping men, then it’ll make them a lot easier to narrow down. I have a few contacts I might be able to get something out of.’
Hotch thanked him, and sat down to go over the files while Philip made the calls. Step by step, he was getting closer.
* * *
Emily feared the worst when she was pulled to her feet, but apparently there was still more to be discussed, because she wasn’t gagged and blindfolded and taken to a secret helicopter or anything like that, but rather taken back to the cell.
No. Not the same cell that she’d been in for the last…how long had it been? It was a different cell. And it wasn’t empty. She almost cried in relief when she saw Morgan in there, looking a little worse for wear, but alive, and that was all that really mattered. The second person she didn’t recognize, but judging from both his and Morgan’s behavior, she assumed that it was Stevie. He was curled in a ball, apparently asleep.
Her attention shifted quickly back to Morgan, who stood as she entered.
‘Did they hurt you?’ Morgan asked, quickly enveloping her in a hug. It felt safe and warm, in spite of the needles of pain shooting through her body at such close contact.
She shook her head, belying the fresh blood that was trickling from her nose. Pulling away slightly, she tried to rub it away, but succeeded only in smearing it across her face. ‘I’m fine,’ she said, almost laughing at the sheer incredulity of the statement. Fine. Freaked out, insecure, neurotic and emotional. ‘But they…’ She choked on her own words. She hadn’t really realized just how completely fucking terrified she was. They were so far out of their depth they were drowning.
They’re going to sell me. There was no way she could tell him that without making it sound twisted. And without making him punch the wall.
‘They’re…they’re moving me,’ she settled on, and it sounded just as sick out loud as it had in her head. These people were twisted. Depraved. Just as bad as any serial killer. They didn’t seem to have any value for human life at all, beyond a dollar value.
Just as bad as politics.
‘I think it’s time to fight back,’ Morgan said, his voice soft, almost desperate.
‘They’re pretty heavily armed,’ Emily said, not an argument, but not an acceptance yet either. ‘We’d have to get out quickly.’
He nudged her. ‘“All warfare is based on deception,” right? Sun Tzu?’
She laughed, and there was no humor in it at all. ‘You remember how that turned out last time.’ She shook her head.
What other choice did they have?
A/N: Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s been ages. Not as long as it’s been for some stories though. Cough *Play the Game* cough. This chapter was an attempt at writing myself out of a corner, so hopefully it should be wrapping up soonish. I have the end in my head, it’s just getting there that’s the hard part. Peace.
Rating: R
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Characters/Pairing: Morgan/Prentiss
Genre: Romance/Suspense
Summary: Chicago, 1997. A beat cop and a federal agent join forces to solve the mystery behind the disappearance of a homeless teenager. They uncover a conspiracy that turns their fight for justice into a fight for their lives.
The Lost Ones
Chapter Twenty
After what felt like hours of questioning door to door, Aaron Hotchner had found no-one that could tell him anything of importance. As with any door-to-door, there had been people who had lied through their teeth, people who thought he was there to fix the toilet, people who asked him whether or not he could do anything about the neighbors playing their music too loudly…
But no-one that could tell him anything about two law enforcement officers that had seemingly vanished without a trace.
But then…maybe searching door to door was the wrong option. The case had started on the streets, and he was more likely to get useful intel, even if the majority of people he saw would refuse to talk to a federal agent.
Twenty minutes in, he struck pay dirt, and all it had cost him was a cup of coffee. The young man clutched the cup tightly, avoiding eye contact.
‘Did something happen to Eric?’ he mumbled, and Hotch found himself frowning.
‘Who’s Eric?’
‘He was talking to them.’ The young man gestured to the photos that Hotch had just shown him. ‘He was talking to them, and now he’s gone. I think they took him.’
‘Who’s “they”?’
The man shrugged. ‘I dunno. There’s been a lot of talk about people being kidnapped for sex. Human trafficking, you know?’
Hotch swore inwardly. If Morgan and Prentiss had inadvertently uncovered a human trafficking ring, then they were as good as lost. Either dead, or sold along the line. The best he could hope for was that they hadn’t gone too far just yet.
* * *
In lieu of any other option, he drove back to the Chicago Field Office - his own knowledge of human trafficking was sub-par. After several painstaking attempts, he was finally directed to someone that could help him.
‘Philip Farnsworth,’ the man introduced himself. ‘You’re BAU?’
Hotch nodded. ‘Aaron Hotchner. I’m investigating the disappearance of Officer Derek Morgan and Agent Emily Prentiss.’
‘And you think they might have gotten lost in the world of human trafficking.’
Hotch went over the details of the case so far, starting with the kidnapping of Steven Simmons, and ending with the conversation he’d just had with the young man on the street.
Well, in that case, you’ve come to the right place,’ Philip grimaced. ‘And it sounds as though someone probably should have come a little sooner.’
He passed Hotch a thick file. ‘Most people hear trafficking and they think “Russian brides” or sex slaves, but the truth is, there’s a lot more trafficking from inside the borders than you might think. It’s usually women and children, though. If these guys are kidnapping men, then it’ll make them a lot easier to narrow down. I have a few contacts I might be able to get something out of.’
Hotch thanked him, and sat down to go over the files while Philip made the calls. Step by step, he was getting closer.
* * *
Emily feared the worst when she was pulled to her feet, but apparently there was still more to be discussed, because she wasn’t gagged and blindfolded and taken to a secret helicopter or anything like that, but rather taken back to the cell.
No. Not the same cell that she’d been in for the last…how long had it been? It was a different cell. And it wasn’t empty. She almost cried in relief when she saw Morgan in there, looking a little worse for wear, but alive, and that was all that really mattered. The second person she didn’t recognize, but judging from both his and Morgan’s behavior, she assumed that it was Stevie. He was curled in a ball, apparently asleep.
Her attention shifted quickly back to Morgan, who stood as she entered.
‘Did they hurt you?’ Morgan asked, quickly enveloping her in a hug. It felt safe and warm, in spite of the needles of pain shooting through her body at such close contact.
She shook her head, belying the fresh blood that was trickling from her nose. Pulling away slightly, she tried to rub it away, but succeeded only in smearing it across her face. ‘I’m fine,’ she said, almost laughing at the sheer incredulity of the statement. Fine. Freaked out, insecure, neurotic and emotional. ‘But they…’ She choked on her own words. She hadn’t really realized just how completely fucking terrified she was. They were so far out of their depth they were drowning.
They’re going to sell me. There was no way she could tell him that without making it sound twisted. And without making him punch the wall.
‘They’re…they’re moving me,’ she settled on, and it sounded just as sick out loud as it had in her head. These people were twisted. Depraved. Just as bad as any serial killer. They didn’t seem to have any value for human life at all, beyond a dollar value.
Just as bad as politics.
‘I think it’s time to fight back,’ Morgan said, his voice soft, almost desperate.
‘They’re pretty heavily armed,’ Emily said, not an argument, but not an acceptance yet either. ‘We’d have to get out quickly.’
He nudged her. ‘“All warfare is based on deception,” right? Sun Tzu?’
She laughed, and there was no humor in it at all. ‘You remember how that turned out last time.’ She shook her head.
What other choice did they have?
A/N: Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s been ages. Not as long as it’s been for some stories though. Cough *Play the Game* cough. This chapter was an attempt at writing myself out of a corner, so hopefully it should be wrapping up soonish. I have the end in my head, it’s just getting there that’s the hard part. Peace.