Profile of the Dead 14/?
Title: Profile of the Dead 14/?
Author: tafidadarling
Fandom: Criminal Minds which belongs to CBS.
Pairing(s): Morgan/Reid
Rating: FRM
Summary: He was never a good liar, but he couldn't tell them. If they ever got caught, he'd be the only one in real danger. Those in Chicago begin formulating a plan while Hotchner is left to take action.
Warnings: Language. Violence.
Notes: I am really sorry this update took forever. My internet was acting up and like I predicted, it gave out. I'm currently using crappy AOL Explorer since it's still wonky.
Cross posted to bau_fic, cm_slash and morganreid_cm.
Previous Chapters
One / Two / Three / Four / Five / Six / Seven / Eight / Nine / Ten / Eleven / Twelve / Thirteen
Francis set the mugs of hot chocolate in front of her guests. Morgan had insisted that she stay out of this, and it worried her. She knew her boy could take care of himself, but she wished he could trust her. She wasn't made of porcelain. She wasn't going to break. She retreated upstairs and phoned her daughters.
Reid swiftly arranged some of the Scrabble tiles on the table to spell "Ideas".
"So," he said sipping his hot chocolate. "Ideas? Anyone got any?"
"I have no clue," Penelope replied. "We're all going to die."
"That is not the spirit Pen," Reid said. "Okay, my suggestion is when Hotch gets here, we all run away to Europe."
"Hotch?" asked Morgan.
"Shorter," Reid said as he scribbled his idea on a Post-It note and stuck it under the Scrabble tiles. "Now that is a bit complicated. Anything else?"
"We go to D.C. and get the facts," J.J. said.
"And just serve ourselves on a platter?!" Penelope squeaked.
"We could sneak in," Reid said laughing.
"Oh, yeah. Sneak into the White House. Good idea," Morgan sighed.
"I'm writing it down just in case." A second Post-It joined the first.
"We really should know why they're after us," J.J. continued. "What is it that Emily did? Did she tell either of you?"
"I barely had a minute alone with her," Reid replied. "I I knew, you would know."
"Morgan?"
All eyes turned to him and he could feel his hands get clammy. He was never a good liar, but he couldn't tell them. If they ever got caught, he'd be the only one in real danger. He could bargain with them, get them to let the rest of them go. He didn't want to see them get hurt. Especially Reid.
"No. She just said she was a spy."
"Okay, then I think that when... Hotch gets here with the jet, we fly to Virginia. Then we drive up to D.C. and use Emily's name to get us into the White House," J.J. said.
"I was so looking forward to running away to a castle," Reid whined.
"Castles can't have white picket fences," Morgan said with a smile.
"I could have settled for a moat."
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Hotchner managed to land the plane safely beside the commune. He couldn't help but pat himself on the back. Not bad for a first time pilot. Unfortunately, the engine had attracted all the zombies in the area.
Those in the watchtowers began shooting as Hotchner jumped down to the ground and pulled out his rifle. He shot two fresh ones who leaped toward him. The rest were older and he had no problem disposing of them as he approached the gate.
"I'm here to see Gideon," he yelled up.
"I'll send for him," the man in the tower yelled back. "You'll have to go through a mandatory check. Sorry."
"No, not a problem. You can't be too safe."
The man came down, inspected Hotchner and then let him into the commune.
"Welcome to Utopia. I'm Tobias." He shook Hotchner's hand and then led him to a very large hut. It had to be the largest in the commune. "This is Gideon's home. He's waiting for you."
"Thank you," Hotchner said and then entered the hut. A man who he assumed to be Gideon was laying on the floor in a puddle of blood. His throat had been slashed.
"Shit."
"Sad you didn't make it in time?" asked a shadow leaning against the wall. It twirled a large knife which reflected the light streaming in from the window into Hotchner's eyes.
"Who are you?" Hotchner demanded, his pistol already raised.
"Now, Mr. Hotchner. That's not entirely fair. Who brings a gun to a knife fight?" The shadow slid another knife across the floor and it stopped at Hotchner's feet.
"Answer the question first."
"George Foyet, but that isn't really going to help you. Pick up the knife."
Hotchner set his gun down and grabbed the knife. "Why kill Gideon? He didn't have anything to do with this?"
"I guess I couldn't help myself," Foyet said finally emerging from the shadows. He grinned wide. "You see Mr. Hotchner. The last assassin they sent after you was barely an amateur. I, on the other hand, have been in the business of killing for a long time."
"Then stop wasting my time and show me how good you really are."
"Brave. No negotiating. Seems a shame to have to kill you Mr. Hotchner."
"Quoting movies? I don't have any reason to be afraid or beg."
Hotchner lunged toward Foyet and nicked his arm with the knife. Foyet was taken aback, but not for long. Soon he was in front of Hotchner, disarming him in one sweep of his arm.
Hotchner punched Foyet, sending his glasses skittering on the floor. Foyet still managed to stab Hotchner in the stomach twice. As he fell to his knees, his hands covering the wounds, Foyet retrieved his glasses.
"Where in Chicago are the others?"
Hotchner coughed and lay down. For all Foyet knew, he had given up, but now Hotchner was on top of his gun. He grasped it and waited until Foyet turned around again.
"Come on now Mr. Hotchner. Don't disappoint me this far in the game."
BANG.
"Hope that didn't disappoint," Hotchner said as Foyet's lifeless body collapsed. Blood began to pool around the bullet wound in his head.
Hotchner scrambled to his feet and made his way back to the plane, ignoring the shrieks from the citizens of Utopia.
Once on the plane, he opened his laptop to warn the others and, oh yeah, contact medical help. He was alerted that he had a new e-mail.
Hotch,
We have a plan.
- P, J, M, R
'Hotch?' he thought as his eyes started to drift shut. 'I like the sound of that.'