The Intelligence Control and Analysis Program

Chapter 1

"You know we can't allow that. One of the things ICAP was specifically designed to prevent is geniuses contacting each other and putting their heads together." Rossi gestured to the files on the desk. "There are plenty of good candidates here."

"I know." Hotch felt like he was repeating the same phrase over and over. "But what could be so malevolent about a phone call? It's not as if we can't listen in or trace the call, and that's true on both ends if the genius is already inside a government facility. Speaking in code would require previous contact of some sort, and that's strictly prohibited. And if he wanted to hatch some plan, why would he choose to contact a genius with psychosis? Why not someone mentally stable?" Hotch shook his head slowly, mouth hanging open for a moment as a sort of disbelief washed over his features. "I know just as well as you do that looks can be deceptive, but... it seems so benign, Dave."

Rossi thought about it for a moment, and then he picked the folder back up. He scanned the words in silence, a soft hum resonating in his throat. "Just a phone call, huh?"

Hotch nodded wordlessly, his gut telling him to call ICAP right then and there. He couldn't get his mind around the supposed danger, and every report he read only increased his confusion, the incidents seeming more immature and emotionally driven than planned. If Hotch had to take a guess, the genius suffered from mood swings—hence the Seroquel he was on—and that wasn't a good enough reason. They could handle mood swings.

"Your gut is really in this one, isn't it?" Rossi arched a brow and then closed the folder, handing it back over with a faint smirk on his lips. "Better make that call."

Hotch grabbed the paperwork without another word and turned his attention to the task of requesting a genius. Every second spent on transport and paperwork was a second not spent tracking down the unsub, and they couldn't afford that.

I don't know why I have so many hesitations. It isn't as if this is a permanent change. Hotch grabbed the phone from his desk and began to dial, placing his finger by the genius identification number so he would have it ready. It's only temporary. If it doesn't work, then it doesn't work. We'll send him back and try something else, Right now, our priority is catching the unsub.

Hotch let out a faint sigh.

It's only temporary.

***

Hotch polished off another cup of coffee and looked over the timeline, even though he was certain he could make a perfect copy of it in his sleep. He leaned on the table, tired of standing but knowing if he sat, he would fall asleep. We have seventeen hours to find her alive... and that's a generous estimate.

"Hey, Hotch, I think our new toy is here."

Hotch straightened up and joined Morgan by the window, watching two men with federal badges usher a scrawny young man into the bullpen. They led him toward the conference room while his eyes flickered from place to place, examining everything and wide with fascination.

I guess this is a new experience for everyone involved.

"Remember what I said, everyone." Hotch went to the door and grabbed the handle. "Be patient, don't take anything personally, and give a little grace. This is temporary, and if it means saving Angela Hayes, we'll tolerate whatever behavior the genius has to offer."

There were various nods and acknowledgements around the table, and then Hotch pulled the door in.

"Agent Hotchner," the officer on the other side smiled. "I'm SSA Burke, and this is Genius #2036334-4383. You can drop the number when you talk to him. They all respond to 'Genius.'" Burke shook hands with Hotch, and there was an amiable glimmer in his eyes, but he looked like he was on edge.