" Nothing is so common as the wish to be remarkable. "
— William Shakespeare
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6.2 ; SNIPED.
THE NEXT DAY, ALL the arrangements for the re-enactment had been set in Des Plaines Park. From her position on the field, Caroline could see a single dull brown sedan—supposedly the unsub's car—in the parking lot. Inside the trunk was supposed to be one of the officers, scoping out the park with a sniper rifle to access positions and movements. She felt a little bit uneasy at the thought of someone training a loaded gun at her.
About a hundred yards to her right, Reid was holding a video camera, similar to the one she was holding, as he surveyed his area. He was through as he recorded the live feed that routed back to the surveillance van a block over from the park. He didn't glance up at her wandering stare.
Caroline took a deep breath as she felt the warm morning sun wave over the semi-empty park. It was peaceful, almost as if she were on a day-off and there was no such things as unsubs. For a moment, she was able to relax.
There was just Caroline, Reid and the day.
The sound of Hotch's static voice breaking over the walkie-talkie attached to her hip shook her out of her daze. She blinked several times, trying to get her mind back of track.
"Caroline, Jerry Middleton was facing a little further south," Hotch told her from his watchful position on the parking lot at the top of the hill. "Can you give us that?"
Caroline shifted her body away from the sun slightly as her face turned beet red from embarrassment. Hotch had probably seen her staring at Spencer. She couldn't prevent the creeping blush as she unclipped the walkie-talkie from her belt and held it up to her lips. "How's that?"
"Perfect. Hold your camera right there."
Caroline trained her camera towards the tree line, towards the unsub's sedan. She waited for the assessment.
"It doesn't look like Jerry Middleton had a clear view of the sniper's vehicle when he was shot," Gideon's voice reported over the device. He was in the surveillance van, watching everything they recorded on the field. "The tree branches are in the way."
"I do have a clear view of the vehicle from here," Reid's voice buzzed in. "Tim Reilly would have seen it if he'd look down from the kite."
"Good," Gideon said. "Have the unsub pop the trunk. See if Reid can see it."
Caroline paused and glanced over at Spencer standing away from her. He was squinting in the direction of the sedan. He pulled his walkie-talkie to his face.
"No, sorry, I can't see anything."
"Nothing from position one," Gideon reported.
"Ok, everybody, move to position 2," Hotch ordered.
Caroline smiled a little to herself as she walked towards Reid. Position 2 had her within five feet of Spencer.
Reid gave her a small wave as she approached. She smiled.
"So, done anything interesting today?" Caroline asked as she focused her camera on the park, sweeping the frame. From behind her, she heard a quiet chuckle.
"Very. If you consider standing in the same spot for three hours entertainment."
"Well, we knew when we signed up for the job that it wasn't always going to be high-speed car chases and SWAT."
Reid scoffed, "Now I don't even get to be a part of that anymore."
Caroline paused and slowly turned to face him. "What are you talking about?"
"Well, I don't have a gun anymore. I can't be a part of takedowns or gun fights without a gun."
"So? You don't need—"
"—a gun to kill somebody," Reid interrupted hastily. "Yeah, yeah I know. You already said that."
Caroline sighed. "No. What I was going to say was you don't need a gun to be a valued member of this team." She laughed a bit to herself. "Hotch already has enough firepower for a small army, so we're good on that front. We need brilliant minds."
"Like who's?"
"Like yours, Spence! Why else would you be on the team if Hotch and Gideon didn't think we needed you?"
It was silent for a brief moment as he contemplated her words. It was a confirmation he hadn't know he needed. "So, you don't think I'm a total loser?"
Caroline gave him a small smile. "Spence, I—"
Before she could get another word out, Derek came running up the them, his shoulders tense and his face a mask of fake calm. Caroline knew something was up. The two profilers gave him an expectant look as he approached.
"Hotch just called me. One of the cops leaked the profile to the media," Derek told them.
"What?" Caroline lowered her voice, despite no one being around except the three of them. "That could be the contact with the media. Whoever leaked the profile could be our unsub!"
He nodded. "They figured that out already and Garcia got a name. Officer McCarty."
Officer McCarty? Caroline recognized the name. He was the officer that had seemed skeptical and joked about the profile yesterday at the debriefing. Despite being a little cocky and arrogant, he didn't seem sociopathic.
"You look more worried than you should be, Derek," Reid noticed, frowning at their teammates jumpy behavior. "What aren't you telling us?"
He gave a shifted glance toward the sedan at the top of the hill. "Because McCarty is playing the unsub. He has a loaded rifle on us right now."
The two profilers froze. Caroline's muscles tensed as her fight or flight instinct kicked in. Everything inside her screamed for her to make a run for it, but she stayed rooted in place. She knew the moment she took off, the unsub would know something was wrong and might start shooting. He could be able to take out all three of them standing here before she could make it ten feet.
Caroline took a deep breath as she relaxed herself, slipping into her cool, level-headed calm. She was worthless if she panicked. She need to remain calm.
"So what's the plan?" She asked Derek quietly. Beside her, Reid was as still a rock, as if any small movement he made resulted in death. She laid a reassuring hand on his arm. She felt his tense muscles slowly ease under the warm touch of her hand.
"Hotch said to stay low. They are going to smoke him out of the car. When they give the signal, we hit the floor and stay there until he's cleared."
Caroline nodded once. "Got it. What's the signal?"
Suddenly, an ear-splitting alarm came through all of the walkie-talkies. Derek's eyes widened.
"That."
Before she could even think to move, Caroline felt a pair of arms wrap around her, pulling her down to the grass. Her back thudded against the ground, her blonde hair fanning around her, as someone pinned her down. She closed her eyes as her fingers curled around the soft fabric of a sweater vest.
She didn't need to open her eyes to know it was Reid who had tackled her. She could feel her body, every single cell, jump in response to his touch, his body pressed against hers. She was highly aware that the soft brush she felt against her check was his nose and that Reid's arms were pressed around the sides of her head, shielding her from any incoming bullets. He smelt of old paper and coffee. She could feel his warm breath tickling her neck.
She shuddered as goosebumps formed on her arms, but she knew they weren't from fear.
Reid tightened his grip around her when she had shuddered, fearing she was scared. But she had never felt so at peace in her whole life.
She found herself hoping that it took them a long time to get McCarty. Without thinking, she buried her head in his shoulder and let out a small sigh. She felt safe.
From a small opening between Reid's arms and the ground, Caroline opened her eyes and peeked through them, surveying the top of the hill. She wish she hadn't.
The officers had vacated McCarty from the car and had him in cuffs, walking towards one of the police cars, when a shot rang out. Reid jumped at the sound and his grip on her tightened even more.
She watched in horror as McCarty's dead body slumped to the ground with a bullet hole drilled through his skull.
➴ ➴ ➴ ➴ ➴ ➴
The BAU sat silently in the conference room, awaiting the lead detective that Caroline had yet to meet. She sat in the corner behind Derek and Elle, who had been surprisingly quiet on the whole situation. From at least them, she would've expected something. Ideas, theories, maybe even a joke or two, but not silence.
It only worsened Caroline's mood.
McCarty wasn't the unsub. And she had watched an innocent man get killed because of their assumptions.
From across the room, Reid stared her down, trying anything in his power, besides speaking, to get her attention. She avoided his gaze. She didn't feel like talking to him at the moment, especially not after what she witnessed.
Suddenly, the door to the conference room opened and a short African American woman stepped into the room, letting the door shut with a soft click behind her. Caroline could tell by her gold badge hanging on her belt she was a detective, presumably Detective Calvin, the lead on the case.
JJ stood up from her seat in the front of the room, her face professional and cool. This was her job, to figure out what went wrong. To figure out what they did wrong.
"How did McCarty end up playing the unsub?" JJ coolly asked the female detective.
Detective Calvin sighed. "Weigart punished McCarty for mouthing off during the profile briefing by making him the unsub and sticking him in the trunk of the car all afternoon."
JJ frowned. "Then how did the unsub find out about the reenactment?"
"Come on," Derek scoffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Cops talk. Pissed-off cops talk loud—at home, at bars, at gyms, and to anyone who'll listen."
"Then what do we know?" JJ's tone made the question sound more rhetorical than one looking for an answer.
"Our unsub went from wounding civilians to executing a police officer," Gideon stated. "So, he's escalated. He's not staying on script."
"Sometimes it's what they don't do," Caroline whispered. Everyone turned to her, eyebrows raised. Except for Gideon, who smiled at her. She felt the ideas form in her head, connecting and taking shape. She avoided her gaze as she thought.
Reid, thinking on what Caroline had said, leaned forward in thought. "He did not pick McCarty at random."
"And he didn't take the gut shot," Derek added. "Why?"
Caroline's heel tapped against the floor. Gideon glances around at the team before replying, "He wants to send a message."
"Nobody takes credit for my work," Hotch surmised.
Gideon nodded. "Yes, sir. His ego won't allow it. He feels under appreciated."
"Ok, but we still don't know why he wounds them," Elle countered, her legs propped against a chair with her arms crossed.
At that moment, Derek's cellphone rang. He excused himself from the conversation to answer his phone, probably from Garcia. Caroline didn't watch him leave.
"We know if the killer has no contact with his victims, he will contact the media," Gideon told her.
Elle frowned. "But he hasn't contacted the media."
"So, therefore, he has to have contact with his victims."
Contact with the victims. That's what she's been overlooking. She looked up as the pieces slowly started to fall together.
"And there's only one way," Caroline said as Derek stepped back into the room with his phone in hand.
"Garcia nailed down the geographic profile," he announced. "The crime scenes are centered on 2 separate locations."
And before he could finished, Caroline stood up. "It's the hospitals. Our unsub is committing hero homicide."
Everyone stared at her, eyes wide. She could see the ideas form in their minds and then the lightbulb that went off when they got it.
"Wait, what's that?" Detective Calvin asked them.
"The best known case was hospital nurse Richard Angelo," Reid spoke up from the wall. "He would inject toxins into his victims, then wait for them to crash so that he could run to the rescue and save them." He paused for a moment in thought. "He killed 25 people, and that's just what we know of."
The detective gave him a skeptical look. "If he attacked 'em to save 'em, why'd he kill 25 people?"
"Wasn't very good at it," Gideon remarked.
"Yeah, and hospitals don't keep records of people who almost died," Reid added.
"So what's the profile on one of these guys?"
Caroline took a deep breath. A hero homicide profile was much easier than an L.D.S.K. It was the missing link.
"They're arrogant, conceited, feels superior to everyone around them," Caroline said as everyone nodded in agreement.
Detective Calvin chucked. "You've just described every surgeon I've ever met."
The memories of yesterday in the hospital finally hit her, overwhelming her. Surgeons...she thought of Dr. Landman, with his arrogant smirk and refusal to shake Gideon's hand because of his precious, perfect hands, paired with the air of fake superiority that rolls off him like a fog.
Caroline knew exactly where they were heading next, and she knew they were going to start with Dr. Landman.
➴ ➴ ➴ ➴ ➴ ➴
After speaking with the head of the hospital, Caroline, Reid, Elle, and JJ all gathered around the surgical x-ray room to peer into the glass wall at Dr. Landman and Gideon, both locked in an intense discussion. Caroline closed her eyes and leaned a bit closer to the window, focusing her hearing. She could hear muffled bits and pieces of the conversation but she couldn't get the whole thing. But, based off of body language, she could tell Dr. Landman was very, very unhappy with Gideon.
Dr. Landman fit the profile to a T. Arrogant, conceited, trained in the army, went to ranger school where he learned marksmanship and, best of all, his stressor of being passed over for chief of surgery really took a blow to his ego. It was the perfect profile, but something didn't set well with her. She tried to shove her feeling off on the fact that he gave her the creeps, but she knew better than that.
Something didn't fit and she couldn't shake that feeling.
She opened her eyes when she heard Hotch's footsteps approach the group collected around the doorway. Hotch had run by to look at Dr. Landman's car, to find any evidence of he could.
"You get anything from his car?" Elle asked Hotch as Caroline's eyes remained locked on Dr. Landman and Gideon.
"It's a red 2-seat Maserati."
"Heh," JJ scoffed. "Of course."
Hotch sighed. "If he's the shooter, he has another vehicle."
The sound of Dr. Landman's voice yelling st the top of his lungs brought everyone's attention back to Gideon. From behind her, Reid stepped forward, as he was going to Gideon, but Caroline held up a hand, signaling him to wait. Dr. Landman's voice rose through the glass clearly, she no longer had to strain to hear what he was saying.
"I was in my office at 3, you incompetent fool!" Dr. Landman's agitated voice snapped at Gideon. "If you don't believe me, you can go ask Dr. Hannah Pate in the E.R. I'm not the only one who thinks I'm a god!"
Hotch tapped on Caroline's shoulder. She turned to look at him.
"Well, Caroline, Reid, let's take a walk down to the E.R.," Hotch suggested. The two profilers nodded in agreement as they followed their unit chief down the hall. Caroline wished JJ and Elle good luck before taking off.
As the three profilers walked down the hall, Caroline's thoughts churned against her head, screaming that something wasn't right. She looked over at Hotch. "What do you think the doctor is going to say?"
He sighed. "My guess is Dr. Pate is going to corroborate Landman's alibi."
"You don't think Landman's the shooter?" Reid asked the two of them, clearly confused.
"Richard Angelo wanted to be a hero because in his everyday life, he was a nobody," Caroline reasoned, forcing her thoughts out, "Landman is a surgeon. He has power and recognition."
"But surgeons are a different breed," said Reid. "They're the stars in their field, and Landman is definitely not one of them."
Caroline simply bit her lip as they approached the E.R. Reid was right, but inside, her instincts were screaming at her to turn away, to run.
That nagging feeling that something was wrong started to naw even more at her. She took a deep breath as she entered the E.R.
They approached the administration desk, dodging the chaos in the E.R. Caroline could barely hear herself think over the bustling of the emergency room—the moans and groans of patients, the squeaking of the wheels on the hospital beds, the shouts of the nurses giving orders. She tuned it all out, focusing only on what was in front of her.
Hotch held his badge to a male nurse with short, dark hair and black, beady eyes stationed at the desk, flipping through a file. He glanced up, a prominent frown on his face, as they had approached. His eyes narrowed at Hotch's badge, scrutinizing it, before turning back to them.
"I'd like to speak to Dr. Pate," Hotch told the nurse.
The nurse started backing away, slowly. "Yes, sir. I'll go find her for you."
As Caroline watched the male nurse disappear in the chaos of the emergency room, she turned to Hotch and Reid.
"The motivations for hero homicide are excitement, power, and respect, and even though Landman's not a star, he still gets respect," Caroline told them. "Racing against the clock to save someone's life is exciting."
"Maybe it's not exciting enough," Reid suggested. "That's why he shoots 3 people at a time."
Hotch frowned as he listened to their conversation. He shook his head. "But he can only operate on one at a time. It wouldn't be anymore exciting, as Caroline said."
Caroline glanced around the room as she listened to the overlapping chatter filling the E.R. Nurses were running back and forth to stations, back and forth to patients...
It was chaotic.
It was excitement.
"At least, not for Landman," Caroline muttered, "and not in the O.R."
Reid made eye contact with her and she watched the realization dawn on his face. "Policemen and E.R. personnel are on the exact same 24-hour shift schedule."
Hotch rubbed his head. "The unsub wasn't shooting at shift change because there are fewer cops on the street. He works the second shift in the emergency room. His contact with the victims."
Hotch, like a switch had been flipped, went into professional mode. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone. As he was dialing Gideon's number to reveal what they learned, one of the nurses chided him from the administration desk.
"Sir, you can't use cell phones in the hospital."
Without missing a beat, Hotch shut the lid of his phone and slipped it back into his suit pocket.
"Excuse me for a minute," he spoke to the nurse quietly, intentionally keeping his voice down. He showed her his badge. "We're FBI agents, and we believe that one of your staff members might be the sniper. Now, the man that we're looking for works second shift, and he would've transferred from Arlington in the past 2 weeks."
The nurse frowned and shook her head. "We haven't hired any new personnel in 2 months."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah," she murmured as she began to turn away. "Look, I have patients who need me."
The nurse looked confused, frightened. She wasn't thinking hard enough. No one wants to believe someone they know could be a cold blooded killer. But she had to think.
Caroline reached out and gently grabbed the nurse by the shoulders, stopping her. She gave her a reassuring smile, and the nurse frowned skeptically at her.
"He's in his thirties. He's vain, rude, arrogant. He works out," Caroline explained to her calmly, rationally. If the unsub was here, she would know. "He shows up late for work. He blames others for his mistakes, doesn't take responsibility for his behavior. All of his coworkers detest him."
Suddenly, the nurse's eyes widened in fear. She latched onto Caroline's wrists.
"Oh, my God," she gasped. "It's Phillip Dowd. He—he picks up shifts at Arlington."
Caroline spoke slowly, trying to calm the nurse down. "Is he here today?"
She began to breathe heavily as she glanced around, panicked. Caroline rested a kind, calm hand on her shoulder, stopping the scared nurse.
"Your patients need you calm," she reminded the nurse. The nurse took a deep breath and exhaled. "Now, tell me, is Dowd working today?"
The nurse nodded meekly.
"Do you see him?"
The nurse turned her head, making a complete 360 around the room. She turned back to Caroline and shook her head.
From behind her, Hotch patted Reid on the back. "Go tell Gideon."
Reid brushed past them, his jittery movements and fast pace revealing his panic. His adrenaline was kicking in, a flight or fight response to any danger.
Caroline dismissed the nurse, thanking her, and reminded her to calmly alert all staff. The nurse hustled away from her, but Caroline turned to watch Reid walk away.
"Reid, easy," Hotch told him. Spencer stopped, cleared his throat and started walking at a much slower pace. He glanced back at Caroline and she didn't have it in her to smile. Her heart raced as he walked away. Her instincts screamed to go after him, but she stayed out.
The next thing she saw was the male nurse that Hotch had spoken to earlier approach Reid, pulling out a M-4. Before she could even say a word, Phillip Dowd knocked the blunt end of the machine gun into his jaw, knocking him to the floor.
She didn't even have time to call out Spencer's name.
Caroline froze as he leveled the gun right at her.
➴ ➴ ➴ ➴ ➴ ➴
The alarms blared as Phillip Dowd unloaded a clip of bullets into a nearby power outlet. For a split moment, the room went dark and then the emergency lights kicked in, casting a dim orange glow across the room.
The civilians in the E.R. screamed when the first sound of gunfire started. They scattered throughout the room, some hiding and some too scared to move. Both Caroline and Hotch unsheathed their guns and pointed them towards Dowd, who had nabbed the security guard as a human shield. The unsub leveled the barrel of the gun towards the FBI agents.
"Nobody moves, and nobody dies," Dowd yelled as people whimpered. Caroline allowed herself a quick glance at Reid in the floor. She almost sighed with relief when she saw him stir, slowly sitting up, dizzy and disoriented. Even in the harsh lighting, she could see the beginnings of a new bruise blistering across his left cheekbone, some swelling and a little bit of red discoloration. But he was okay. The rest she could live with.
"Better be a head shot," Dowd teased the agents, nodding towards his weapon. "I got this on full auto. Anything less, I go down squeezing the trigger."
The security guard flinched as Dowd rested the gun on his shoulder. Caroline tried not to think of his fear and remain focused on the unsub.
She could attempt a head shot, and she might be able to get one at her current angle. But he was using the security guard as a human shield. If she fired, she would most likely hit both of them and whoever else was behind them. She couldn't risk an innocent life.
Beside her, Hotch slowly lowered his gun and set it down on the cabinet beside him, realizing the disadvantage they were in. He nodded once to Caroline, never taking his eyes off Dowd. She silently obeyed and placed her gun cautiously with Hotch's, keeping her hands at her sides.
Dowd swiftly kicked the security guard in the back of the knees, knocking him down. He kept the gun leveled at the both of them as he marched over and collected both of their guns, sliding them into his back pocket of his white lab coat.
His head snapped over to where Reid was laying in the floor. He growled.
"Get up!" He snapped at him. Spencer scrambled to get up, his brown leather satchel dangling from his arm as he uneasily stood up. He held his hands high above his head. "Get over here! Double time! Move!"
Reid avoided eye contact with the unsub as he hustled over beside Caroline. Dowd pointed his gun towards her.
"You," he instructed towards her, "take your partner's gun, put it on the counter."
His voice was gravelly, thick. But she knew it wasn't from fear, but from excitement. The high of being caught, of being in control.
"He's not armed," she said, her voice even and cool. There was not a trace of doubt or fear. She felt nothing. "See for yourself."
Dowd frowned, giving her a skeptical look. "Hands on your heads," he warned them as he approached Reid.
Caroline slowly placed her hands against her curly blond hair, interlocking them by the back of her neck. Hotch did as he was told without taking his trained eyes off Dowd. Reid's spastically did the same, shaking.
She felt a twinge of guilt. She wanted to do something, anything, but there was nothing. She had to let this happen.
Caroline watched as Dowd yanked the bag off Reid shoulder, tossing its contents all over the floor. He scoffed when he saw there was, indeed, no weapon on him.
"Get up, Keith," the unsub told the security guard, who reluctantly stood. Dowd pulled out plastic zip-ties and shoved them into the guard's hands. "Put those on 'em."
Dowd shed his lab coat, revealing a bullet proof vest, as the security guard began to zip-tie their hands. He gave Caroline an apologetic look as he tightened the straps against her wrist, restraining her. She didn't resist, she didn't move.
She would think of another way.
Once the guard was done with their hands, he turned to Dowd.
"Step back," the unsub instructed, leveling the gun against his back. The guard backed all the way to him. Once he was in range, Dowd whirled and slammed the butt of the gun against his temple, knocking the security guard out cold. He crumpled to the floor and didn't move.
The hostages gasped in fear and Caroline struggled to keep her own emotions in check. She felt the pull of fear and desperation, but she swallowed it back. She willed herself to be calm, the sweet bliss of turning off her emotions, to truly feel nothing.
She wasn't scared. Her problems disappeared. She felt nothing.
Dowd motioned toward Reid. "Get on your knees!"
Spencer immediately fell down to his knees, resting his hands pathetically in his lap, looking completely helpless. Through her devoid, she felt fear, not for her, but for him. Fear for his safety, his life. She shook it off.
The unsub stared at the other two FBI agents, calm and unafraid. "Have a seat."
Hotch carefully lowered himself to his knees, his back as straight as a board. Caroline simply rested her butt on the backside of her heels, pressing her knees into the cold tile floor. She tugged against her zip-ties, testing their strength. The plastic resisted against her and she knew they were too solid to break through.
Dowd aimed his gun at Spencer and Caroline resisted the urge to lunge at him. "Now, what kind of an FBI agent doesn't carry a gun?"
"I'm a profiler," he whispered, sweat collecting at his temple. She felt the urge to reassure him but came up with nothing.
"Profiler?" Dowd chuckled. "They sent you to figure me out."
"We did," Spencer said meekly, "That's how we found you."
"Shut up, Reid," Hotch muttered.
Reid looked defeated and glanced away from Hotch. Caroline noticed his nose was bleeding.
"No, don't shut up," the unsub said. "Tell me what you think you know about me."
"Yeah, go ahead, genius," Hotch scoffed. "Tell him. But remember, get it wrong, and he's gonna kill you."
Spencer, clearly torn, didn't say a word. Dowd chuckled as his eyes wandered from Reid to Caroline. He smirked at her.
"How about you, princess," he said to her, his voice sharp. "You tell me. Who am I? What's my plan?"
Caroline slowly peeked up at him through her eyes lashes, trying her best to look innocent and defenseless. The less he knew about her, the better.
"I know you shot 11 people in broad daylight and left us with nothing, you executed a cop in front of the FBI and got away clean, and I know your plan is to go down in a hail of bullets."
Dowd gave her a sinister smile. "What else do you know?"
Before she could say anything, Hotch looked up at the unsub and said, "I know you're the smartest person in every room you've ever been in, and no one's ever none it. People feel threatened by you and try to sabotage you every chance they get. You're not a bad person. You help save all of your victims afterwards. First guy wasn't your fault. If the EMTs had been there on time, he would've lived."
"It took those guys 13 minutes! 13!" He shouted, barring his teeth. He paused and took a deep breath to calm himself. She thought it was strange, how a sociopath could find it in himself to be calm when hold a room full of hostages at gun point.
"You want to barricade the door," Hotch said.
"What?"
Caroline's head snapped in Hotch's direction. She glared at him, trying to get him to acknowledge her, but he remained focused on Dowd.
"Let me and the kid do it. Let 'em see that you've got FBI agents in here doing your bidding."
"Right," Dowd muttered sarcastically," and let you give them a signal."
"What signal? They knew you were in here. They knew you were armed. What can I tell them?"
The unsub shouldered his fun and aimed it at Hotch, his agitation rolling off of him like a fog. He growled, "What is this, some sort of profiler trick? New negotiation tactic?"
Nobody said anything. Dowd mulled over the idea. After a minute, he made his decision and said, "The barricade's a good idea, though."
Dowd backed off with his gun and gave Hotch a skeptical glare. "Now, why would you wanna help me?"
"I don't," Hotch said.
The unsub clicked his tongue against the inside of his cheek. "You said they knew I was in here."
Hotch's face shifted slightly in surprise. "I said they know you're in here."
"No. That's not what you said."
Caroline tugged against her restraints some more as she asked, "Why does it matter?"
"It matters because your partner wants to help me even though he doesn't know it," the unsub grinned. "Go ahead, boss man. Tell them why. If you lie or leave anything out, blondie is getting a bullet to the brain."
Dowd pressed the muzzle of the gun to Caroline's forehead and she didn't move a muscle. She could hear Reid shifting at her side, struggling to get close but there was nothing he could do. She casted Hotch a pleading look. He didn't even notice her.
"They knew he was in here, they knew he was armed and dangerous, and they knew that he was gonna fight till the last round," Hotch said, "and they sent me in here with an unarmed kid who can't shoot his way out of a wet paper bag and a stupid little girl who is as defenseless as she is pathetic."
Caroline felt Reid's eyes on her. He wanted answers, why Hotch had turned on them, she could feel it.
She couldn't answer him. She could barely look at him herself.
Dowd pulled away from Caroline as her head hung over her shoulders, defeated.
"They set you up," the unsub said to him.
"Exactly," Hotch snapped, "and they're probably laughing about it right now."
"That's why you wanna help me."
"I wouldn't say I want to help you, but when they come in here to get revenge for the cop you killed, you're gonna go down fighting, and in the crossfire, a lot of us are gonna die." A murmur of terror passed through the hostages before Hotch continued, "They sent me in here. I figure why make it easy for them."
"You know why they took away boy genius' gun?" Hotch remarked, disdain saturating his voice. Reid looked over at him, hurt.
"Why?"
"He failed his qualification," he sneered. "Twice a year, I gotta listen to him whine about requalifying. So I tutor him...and he fails again."
"You think you got it rough?" Phillip Dowd exclaimed, glaring at a nearby group of nurses cowering in fear. "These people done nothing but undermine me since I got here."
"Put them near the barricade," Hotch suggested. "That way, when they blast their way in here, both of our problems are solved. That sort of thing can ruin a cop's career."
"You are one sick dude," Dowd chuckled.
Hotch scoffed, "How do you think I found you?"
A full minute of silence passed, or maybe two. Time moves differently in times of high stress. A second can feel like an hour and an hour can feel like a second. Time ebbs and flows. There is all the time in the world and none at all. Caroline passed time by counting in her head.
One...two...three...
"Can I ask you a favor?"
Hotch's voice dragged her out of her counting. She reluctantly rejoins the conversation.
Dowd considered it for a moment before replying, "You can ask."
"I figure the chances of my getting out here alive are pretty slim."
"So?"
Hotch turned and glared at Reid. "I want to kick the snot out of this kid." Caroline's head snapped up, alert. Her heart was thumping. He couldn't be serious. "He's made my life miserable for 3 lousy years."
Dowd thought about it for a moment before making his decision. He approached Caroline and grabbed her by the wrists, yanking her to her feet. She tried to resist him, but he dragged her away from Hotch and Reid, planting her at his side.
"What the hell are you doing?" She demanded as she tugged and yanked on her restraints. The more she struggled the further she went.
"Can't have you joining the fight, sweetheart," he told her condensingly before turning to Hotch, "Knock yourself out."
As Hotch turned to Reid, Caroline cried out, "Hotch, please, don't!"
He paused, his hands hovering over Spencer's head. He shied away from his boss with wide, confused eyes. Her heart pulled.
"Say one more word," Hotch threatened her, "and you'll join him."
Caroline felt incredibly helpless as her boss, someone she trusted, began to beat the living shit out of her best friend.
She covered her mouth with her hands in horror as Hotch shoved Reid to the floor and began to kick him in the stomach. She felt sick. She staggered and Dowd caught her before she could fall.
"Watch it, sweetheart," he told her, holding her up, "this is something you don't want to miss."
"How smart are you now, smart guy?" Hotch sneered as he landed a solid kick to Reid's midsection, causing him to groan in pain. "It's front sight, trigger press, follow through!" Each syllable rewarded a kick, like a beat. A syllable, kick. Syllable, kick. It felt endless. "It's not that hard! A Dalmatian could do it!"
Once Hotch finished kicking Reid rolled to his side, curled into a tiny ball, moaning and groaning. Caroline was now being almost fully supported by the unsub, her knees were so weak.
Reid was just laying there...
Hotch pulled away and faced Dowd, panting. Caroline didn't even glance his way. She waited.
"Feel better?" The unsub asked.
Hotch sighed, "I think he got the message."
Then, everything started happening all at once. Dowd's eyes shifted to Hotch's ankles and he noticed his right pants leg was rolled up slightly and protruding from his ankle was an empty gun holster. His eyes widened in betrayal.
"Now, Caroline!" Hotch order.
Any "weakness" she felt evaporated. Caroline used Dowd's surprise as leverage as she swung her fist around, knocking his gun off-target, away from any hostages. She kicked him hard in the knees, sending him staggering as Reid rolled over in the floor, no longer shaking or groaning. In his hands, pointed at the unsub, was Hotch's gun.
With one swift kick to Dowd's back, Caroline set him in range of Reid's gun as she dove for the floor, taking cover. The sound of a gunshot rang out in the E.R. and she heard the sound of Phillip Dowd's body fall right beside her.
Caroline slowly lifted her head from the floor. With slow, deliberate movements, she carefully scooted the gun away from the dead body. She stared into Phillip Dowd's lifeless eyes, the same look of shock still planted on his face. It had been the plan. There was no way they were ever going to get him to go peacefully. His arrogant, conceited nature would have never allowed it. They had to kill him.
And yet, she still felt this sick pain in her stomach. She couldn't help but stare at the perfectly symmetrical bullet hole in the center of Dowd's forehead that Reid gave him.
Reid.
Caroline glanced up to see the boy still sitting in the floor, holding the gun, staring at Dowd's lifeless corpse. He seemed confused, as if it wasn't registering that he just killed someone.
Without a word being said from either Caroline, Reid or Hotch, she crawled up from the floor and sat beside him, holding his hand as SWAT started flooding into the E.R.
➴ ➴ ➴ ➴ ➴ ➴
Caroline sat in the back of an ambulance, wrapped in a pale green blanket one of the EMTs had given her. Despite refusing the piece of cloth several times, it was Hotch's insistence that caused her to accept it. To her, it was pointless. She wasn't cold, nor traumatized, nor in shock. This hadn't been the first time she had seen a dead body, and not the first time she had seen someone be killed. And yet, she accepted the blanket anyway.
The flashing red and blue lights flashed over ahead on the ambulance, casting a glow over the dark night. As far as she knew, Gideon was setting up the plane ride home for as soon as he could possibly manage. Everyone wanted to go home sooner rather than later.
Beside her, Reid rested his back against the door of the ambulance, his eyes locked on the ground. His expression was blank and she knew he was deep in thought. She wanted to reach over at touch him, maybe to hold him or even just to hold his hand like she did before. But her hands remained clutched to the blanket wrapped around her body. There were no words she could say to him that would change what he did.
From the groups of traumatized hospital personnel and law enforcement wandering about in the night, Hotch emerged, his shoulders sagged slightly from exhaustion. She forced a small smile on her face as he approached them. Reid only glanced up.
Their boss sighed as he stared at the two of them, more specifically Reid. "You all right?"
The young profiler nodded. "Yeah."
In the light of the ambulance, Caroline was able to get a clearer view of Reid's bruised cheekbone—now more purple and blue than red. He still had a bit of dried blood under his nose from where the unsub had knocked him out, but he'd live. Physically, he'd heal. Emotionally, he'd find a way to figure it out, even if it meant he had to say he was fine a million times before he actually started to believe it.
"It was a nice shot," Hotch encouraged him, a small proud smile that a couch would give his players on his face.
Spencer chuckled weakly. "I was aiming for his leg."
"I wouldn't have kept kicking, but I was afraid you didn't get my plans," Hotch admitted. "That neither of you did."
"I got your plan the minute you moved the hostages out of my line of fire," Spencer replied.
"And I knew you were tough," Caroline added on, "but you have never been mean. I could tell it was an act."
"Well, I hope I didn't hurt you too badly," Hotch said, a look of guilt plastered on his face. "Either of you."
Reid, for the first time all night, smiled. "Hotch, I was a 12-year-old child prodigy in a Las Vegas public high school. You kick like a 9-year-old girl."
Agent Hotchner chuckled with weak relief. From his back pocket, Reid gently pulled out his gun and held it out to Hotch, attempting to return it back to its owner. Hotch held up a hand and shook his head.
"No. Keep it," he said. "As far as I'm concerned, you passed your qualification."
Reid silently slipped the gun back in its holster without a word. Before parting ways, Hotch gave Caroline and Reid a pat on the back as he turned away to finish his other duties before they left for the plane.
Caroline turned to Spencer and he stared back at her. Deep inside his dark brown eyes, she could see something had changed, something had broken inside of him. He had killed a human being. He had done the thing Caroline was so adamantly trying to avoid and despite saying he felt fine, he wasn't. He might even feel okay for now, but because she knew him, knew him better than anyone could possibly begin to understand, she knew that it wouldn't last and this would come back to haunt him. Because he was good, pure. And he had do something that wasn't in his nature to save others.
It was the job. But that didn't mean they didn't have to like it.
Caroline smiled at him. "Hey, when we get back, you want to grab some Chinese food from your favorite restaurant and head back to my place? You can help me study for my psychology exam next weekend, and I'll even let you look at my notes and correct me, if you want."
He smiled back. "Deal."
The two slowly stood up to leave. Caroline shed her blanket, dangling it on the back of the ambulance as Derek came up to them.
"Hey, Reid, are you all right?" He asked him, concern in his voice.
From his pocket, Spencer pulled out the shiny silver whistle Derek had given him a few days ago and tossed it in his hands. He caught it with a dumbfounded look on his face. He wouldn't need it anymore.
Caroline laughed as a smile broke out across Reid's face. She knew he had been waiting to do that since Derek first gave him the whistle.
They left Derek standing beside the ambulance, shocked, as Reid threw his arm around Caroline's shoulders, the pair ready to head home.
➴ ➴ ➴ ➴ ➴ ➴
It was dark outside as Reid stared out the window of the silent airplane, lost in thought. He had tried to fall asleep earlier, like the rest of his team had, but decided that it was no use; he was way too wound up to even think of relaxing.
Beside him, Caroline was curled up in the soft chair, her knees pulled to her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs, breathing softly. A stray strand of blonde hair had escaped her loose ponytail in her sleep and hung over her peaceful face. It clung to her soft pink lips, which were slightly parted as she breathed. Without thinking, Reid silently reached over and carefully brushed the strand out of her face, gently so as not to wake her up. This was one of the rare times he had ever seen his friend fall asleep on the plane ride home and he didn't want to disturb her rest. He knew more than anyone how much they all needed their sleep.
Caroline murmured drowsily as Reid delicately pulled away from her, his fingers tickling the soft, pale skin of her content face. He sat back and allowed himself to stare at her, to see her peaceful.
When Spencer first met her, he was immediately reminded of this small porcelain doll his mother used to own when he was little. Its name was Lucy and his mother adored it. It had the palest skin he had ever seen on a doll with rosy pink cheeks and perfect blond ringlets that framed its small, round face. Its painted blue eyes, that were so beautifully done it must've take the doll's creator hours to create them, would stare back at him, like it was a sentient being.
Caroline could've been a twin to Lucy. Obviously, she was human and was far more filled out than a porcelain doll ever dared to be, but everything else could've been an exact replica. Her soft blonde curls, rosy cheeks, short stature, even the delicate sound of her voice, which sounds like the soft tinkling of bells, reminded him a doll. Even those ocean blue eyes of hers, the color of a blue-grey waves crashing into the beach or a rare sapphire found in some ancient cave, looked like God himself had taken hours, days to create them.
He was so afraid one day he would hold her too tightly and then she would shatter, just like all porcelain dolls eventually do.
He used to doubt her. He used to wonder how someone so tiny, so fragile-looking made in into the FBI and how she could possibly manage to defend herself against a fully-grown unsub that had arms twice the size of her leg.
He felt the strongest sense to protect her, to protect the doll-like girl from anything and everything. It never made any sense to him about why he would want to protect an absolute stranger. He chalked it up to her delicate appearance, some neurological instinct to protect those who look defenseless but he knew now it went farther than that.
Caroline wasn't the perfect porcelain doll she seemed. He had witnessed her take down two grown unsubs, with guns, all by herself without breaking a sweat and watched her hit a target with perfect accuracy from over a mile away with a sniper rifle. He knew, just as the team knew, Caroline could defend herself.
And because of that, to him, she was beautiful. Not beautiful in a physical sense—although she was easily the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on—but in strength. She was beautifully strong, kind, determined, smart. She was an absolute wonder to him and Reid still had a hard time believing she was a real person. Someone this wonderful, so perfect, couldn't be real.
Caroline made him wish he was stronger, braver. Maybe one day, he would get the courage to tell her how he felt about her, to let her know how crazy he was about her. How his biggest fear wasn't death, but of losing her. How when Phillip Dowd had held a gun to her head, her perfect head of blonde curls he adored, he wanted to tear the unsub's eyes out of his sockets and force-feed his own eyeballs to him. And if he had the chance, if Hotch hadn't come up with the plan he did, he would've tried.
He wanted her to know how he felt as if he was made for her and nobody else on the entire planet they live on would ever compare to her beauty and how she made him feel.
But then again, that was a fairy tale and Spencer Reid didn't believe in fairy tales.
Reid had been so lost in thought as he watched Caroline sleep he hadn't heard Gideon approach him on the plane.
His mentor cleared his throat and he snapped out of his head, the hot rush of being caught causing the new bruise on his cheekbone to begin to throb. He peeled himself away from Caroline and faced Gideon, trying to push past his extreme embarrassment.
Thankfully, Gideon didn't notice, or chose to ignore, his behavior.
"How you doin'?" He asked Spencer, his voice laced with concern.
"You were right," he whispered. "You don't need a gun to kill somebody."
Gideon slowly lowered himself into the seat across from Caroline, silent and careful so as not to disturb her. Reid wasn't the only one who knew she deserved a break from this reality, only if it was a couple of hours.
"No, you don't."
"But it helps."
"Yes," Gideon murmured. "It does."
Spencer shifted uncomfortably in his seat. This thought had been plaguing the back of his mind since the plane had left the tarmac. He had been afraid to say something to Caroline about it, too afraid she'd think he was insane or a freak. But he needed to know.
"I—I know I should feel bad about...what happened. I mean...I killed a man," Spencer swallowed. "You know, I—I should feel something. But I don't."
"Not knowing what you're feeling," Gideon replied, "is not the same as not feeling anything."
Reid took a deep breath, slowly nodding. He wasn't sure if Gideon was right. If this was an empty feeling or raw emotion. Apathy or sympathy. Guilt or fear. He couldn't tell. He just felt empty and not in the emotional sense. He truly felt as his nothing was inside his body, like he was hollow.
"This is gonna hit you," Gideon told Spencer, his voice completely and honestly sincere, "and when it does...there's only three facts you need to know."
Reid leaned forward and waited.
"You did what you had to do...and a lot of good people are alive because of what you did."
He frowned. "What's the third?"
"I'm proud of you."
Reid, somehow, was able to smile. He leaned back into his seat and stared back outside into the dark night. A moment later, he felt something warm rest on his shoulder. Confused, he turned his head and he balked when he saw Caroline's head resting against his shoulder. She murmured something unintelligibly as she snuggled into his arm.
Spencer cast a panicked glance back at Gideon, almost as if he was asking him what to do. The older man simply smiled, a conspicuous smile, and left him alone, leaving the decision up to him.
In the end, it was an easy decision on what to do.
When was positive no one was watching, he gently rested his head against Caroline's and was able to gently shut his eyes, knowing that people were proud of him and they cared.
Spencer Reid was able to finally fall asleep to the sound of Caroline's breathing.
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