NINE.

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NINE ; QUINN, QUINN, QUINNY

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NINE ; QUINN, QUINN, QUINNY.

For Kyle Masters, it is as if time stops. It is a sigh of relief. Quinn Carson is safe.

It is as if the team behind the window cannot tear their eyes away from the scene before them. Seeing people like Kyle Masters show some form of compassion is different. It is unusual, yet it reminds them that these people are human too. That there is some sort of feeling left in them.

A small smile made it's way across Kyle's face as Quinn was ushered in. The chains attached to his cuffs rattled against the table and Hotch and Morgan sat down. Quinn nodded after Morgan motioned for her to take the seat next to him. She obliged, finally looking at Kyle Masters for the first time in five days. "Quinn, thank God." His voice is airy, eyes clenched tight as if he were giving thanks to a higher power. "I knew you'd figure it out."

"So you admit to giving Quinn hints?" Morgan asked, eyebrows raising as he spoke. Masters nodded but his eyes did not leave Quinn's. "Why? Aren't you loyal to Lawrence?"

His gaze flashed to the agent's, a certain fire in his eye. "Lawrence doesn't have the power over me that you think he does," he replied. Hotch and Morgan subtly exchanged a glance, nodding nonetheless. Kyle let out a deep breath, shaking his head slightly. "But I decided that enough was enough, you know? I always knew I'd break apart from the group. We'd been playing the same charade for years and it was time for Lawrence's game to end."

"It's awfully convenient that you'd have this thought on what you all knew was going to be your final kill," Hotch commented. He wore no expression, but his voice had a certain edge to it. SSA Aaron Hotchner was remarkably good at what he did, Quinn noted.

"I came to my senses nonetheless," Masters bit back, eyes narrowing in the direction of the agents. "Now, you said you had some questions about The Horsemen? What's so dire you needed to bring Quinn in?"

His eyes transition to meet Quinn's, visibly softening as he looked at her. "Where are the rest of the women?" Morgan questioned.

"Everywhere." Masters's voice held a hint of regret as he spoke. "God, there were so many. I can't tell you exactly where, but they're across America."

"So he's useless," Rossi deadpanned from behind the glass. "We bring in Quinn and he gives us nothing."

"At least he's not denying the fact they killed them," Blake said. "He's bright enough not to be stupid."

Inside of the interrogation room, Hotch stared down Masters while asking, "Why did you join the group if you knew you'd leave?"

"I was a eighteen year old delinquent with a dead dad and a hardly earned GED," Masters replied. His Brooklyn accent was thick as he spoke. "I found people like me who wanted to use my talents." He pressed his top lip down onto his bottom, the area where the two met slowly becoming white. Quinn shifted in her seat.

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