The Intelligence Control and Analysis Program

Chapter 11

Morgan stopped suddenly and grabbed his pocket as if he had just received a text. He tucked To Kill a Mockingbird under his arm with Love Conquers All and fished his phone out, sliding it open. There was no actual text, of course, but there was a small chip that he slipped out as he closed and re-pocketed the device. Of course, he had gotten his arms very twisted up with all that maneuvering, so it was relatively easy to slip the chip under the paper inside the back cover of To Kill A Mockingbird.

Morgan turned around to leave, adjusting his shirt. He glanced up enough to see a young girl sitting on the couch, and he dusted himself off. Only, after he brushed the shirt twice, he dusted in the wrong direction. Then he slipped his thumb between his pinky and ring fingers, stroking his cheek twice like he was trying to clear away dust or tears or both, walking toward the exit all the while.

Morgan returned to the hall, continuing to the elevators and hitting the button to summon a lift. No big deal, just him getting sidetracked on the way back from Spencer's room. Hotch and Bale were probably done talking, Morgan would arrive with the book, he and Hotch would leave, and all was well that ended well.

Just, you know, with a chip inserted in the hardcover of a book and a genius on the receiving end of a cryptic, signed message from Garcia.

That's just not right. Morgan refrained from sighing, watching the numbers above the elevator slowly climb. She didn't even get a book. She just sat down and stared at the wall. But it's not like she knew I was making a drop-off, she just regularly does that. Anything to get out of those rooms; to get away from all the tan.

Morgan heaved a sigh and stepped onto the elevator.

What a mess.

***

"Genius 3483, are you uncomfortable?"

Emily folded her arms beneath her cleavage and leveled a calm stare at the recently returned section chief. She reminded herself not to react, reminded herself why she had kept such a careful distance from Spencer throughout his stay at the BAU.

"Um, a little bit, ma'am." Spencer shifted in his seat, scratching at his legs. "It's—it's okay, though."

Strauss nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Do you understand why these forms are necessary?"

Spencer tugged on the hot pink button-down shirt he had layered over his AC/DC tee. "Um, I—I think so. Uh, it has to do with the investigation, right?"

Strauss didn't nod, which both concerned and surprised Emily.

"It's less about the investigation and more about making these accusations against ICAP stick." Strauss held her hands up slightly. "I know Aaron has eight years of experience as a prosecutor, but I know several lawyers who have been in the game a lot longer. I contacted them while I was away, trying to get an idea of how we would approach the case after legal claims are made."

Emily concealed her surprised at that, too, but she let some suspicion dance in her eyes. She didn't want Strauss thinking she had been caught off-guard, but she was more than fine with Strauss knowing she was going to watch the section chief's every move. What are you up to?

"Okay," Spencer said softly. "So, um, what's all this?"

Strauss pulled her reading glasses from her jacket and put them on, grabbing one of the many packets. "There are several things. This first one is a requisition for a tracking anklet."

Spencer squirmed slightly. "I—I wouldn't run, ma'am."

We know, Spencer. Emily swallowed the surge of anger.