Needless to say, my family was not happy about me leaving. I had only just gotten there and was finally getting a break from my job and now I had to go back.
My grandma frowned as she loaded up my backpack with snacks for the plane home, shaking her head the whole time. "Ils vous travaillent trop dur. Vous pourriez aussi bien vivre au siège du FBI. Es-tu sûr que tu vas bien?" They work you too hard. You might as well live at the FBI headquarters. Are you sure you're ok?
I laughed. "Oui, ça ira. J'aime les longues heures. Je devrais vraiment y aller maintenant." Yes, I'll be fine. I like the long hours. I really should go now.
I hugged everybody and then I was off to the airport. Hotch got me a pass somehow that let me get through security and customs quickly, and they didn't really look in my bag. I smirked, knowing that I got to actually take all of the food my grandma gave me.
The flight somehow seemed longer than usual. It was awful, having to just sit there, doing nothing, while my colleagues were working hard against this killer.
Eventually, I made it back to Virginia. I hurried out of the terminal and caught a cab that took me to my house. I changed my clothes and ran a brush through my hair before grabbing my bag and getting into my car. I was at the BAU in less than ten minutes.
I walked into the building. As soon as I made it into the room. Morgan looked up. "You're back from France already?"
I nodded and dropped some treats on his desk. "They're from my Grandma."
He examined them and took a bite. I sat down and got situated. "Mm, can she be my grandma too?"
I rolled my eyes and went up to Hotchner's office. I knocked on the door. "Hotch? It's Leroy."
He opened the door. "Great. You're here." I dug the letter and key out of my pocket.
"That's what showed up on my grandma's doorstep. In France." Hotch examined it. "The unsub must have sent that at least ten days ago. He must be seriously organized for this kind of planning. Not to mention, he knows where my grandma lives and he knew that I would be there." I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose.
Hotch looked at me. "Leroy, when did you last sleep."
"I slept a little on the plane. When was that.. two days ago? I think?"
"Go home and sleep. It's ok."
"No, no, I'm ok."
Hotch frowned. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah. I won't be able to sleep, anyways."
I went back into the conference room and soon, everybody was in there.
"So, clearly we have a psychopath intent on drawing us into his game," said Hotch.
"Playing with us," added Gideon.
"Then let's return the favor," said Elle. She was pacing the room with her arms crossed.
"He kept telling us repeatedly to save 'her.' What 'her?'" asked Morgan.
"The items he sent must be some kind of clues. Let's get em up on the board. I got a Nellie Fox baseball card from 1963 and I got a head in a box," said Gideon.
"I got a rare butterfly in a shadow box," said JJ.
"And repeated messages to save her," added Hotch.
"I got a key and a note," I said.
"I got the decapitated body, and a nice visit to the Jamaican police headquarters," said Elle.
"Reid called from Nevada. He's on the way back here with another key and a note he got, too," added Gideon.
"And the guy who called me said the youngest ones hold the keys."
"That's Leroy and Reid," said Elle. I nodded and placed the key on the table.
"Ok, but wait a minute. Unsubs: they don't contact us this way. I mean, they might taunt us, dare us to catch 'em, but they don't drag us into their fantasy," said Morgan.
"Why not?" asked JJ.
"Because they're sexual fantasies," said Morgan. "I mean, taunting us is a show of power, but making us the object is... I don't know what the hell that is."
"Something else about the baseball card. Nellie Fox was one of the stars of the 1959 White Sox. I went to almost every game with my father that year. Fox was my hero. So is it a coincidence that he sends this to me, or does he know how I feel about him?" asked Gideon.
JJ turned around, shocked. "I collected butterflies when I was a little girl. That's how I knew what butterfly was in the box."
I sighed. "I didn't even tell anybody here that I was going to France. Yet, this unsub knew."
"So then he knows us," said Morgan.
"I got an anonymous message," said Hotch.
"I got a police raid," said Elle.
"But he knew exactly where we were," said Morgan. "Hotel in Jamaica, Gideon at the cabin, Leroy in France, Reid in Vegas, you at your home." He looked at Hotch.
"He got that from the Bureau computers," said Garcia as she walked in. "Your location's always in there so they can find you if they need you. I checked the log. The hacker was definitely in the personal folders. There were room numbers to the hotel in Jamaica, the address of Gideon's cabin and Leroy's family's house. There's a lot of information in those databases." I frowned. That didn't explain how the unsub would know I was going to France far enough in advance to send that note.
"Have you figured out how the unsub was able to get into the Bureau's computers?"
"I-I'm still working on that."
"Garcia, if you know something-"
"No-um. Its just. Um. Um. I was playing a game yesterday. An online game."
I sighed.
"A game?" asked Gideon.
"Not on the Bureau computer, sir, on my own personal laptop."
Morgan groaned. "Oh, Garcia, no."
"I don't understand," said Gideon.
"Wireless internet," said Morgan.
"By wirelessly hooking into the net here to get online the hacker could have gotten into my computer first, and I have far less protection on my own laptop."
"And he could have gotten into the entire Bureau computer system this way?" asked Hotch.
Garcia nodded. "Yeah, it's possible."
"Playing a game?" asked Gideon, exasperated. "How could you be that stupid."
I suddenly found a certain spot on the wall very interesting.
"Information, files. You have a responsibility."
"I know, sir, I'm so sorry." Everyone sighed. "But I found him!" said Garcia.
"You what?" asked Elle. I looked back at Garcia.
"I know who he is, the hacker. His name is Giles. Frank Giles. He lives in Arlington, Virginia, 4 miles from here. I have his address." Garcia held out a paper.
"Garcia, you said Giles?" asked Morgan. She nodded.
"Let's go," said Hotch.
I slipped the key into my pocket and hurried out to the SUV with the team. We sped down the street towards Giles's house.
The car pulled to a stop and I got my gun out of my pocket and followed behind Morgan into the house.
We went up the stairs, trying to make the least amount of noise as possible. Then, Morgan kicked the door open and we entered the room. There was a sword sticking straight up in a man's body in the middle of the room. Written on the wall in blood was," Here thy quest doth truly begin."
I put my gun away and examined the scene. The others were talking, but I wasn't listening. I was too busy looking at the handle of the sword. "Guys, the blade says, 'To learn of what should next be done leave the blade till the hour be none.'"
"Ok. What does that mean?" asked Elle. I sighed and thought.
"If the blade is still here when the hour is none, it will reveal some sort of clue," I said.
"What does it mean? What hour is none?" asked Morgan.
"The word 'none' is derived from Germanic origin. It comes from the German word 'nein', meaning 'no'. " I studied the sword handle. "Or, it might be mentioning the Latin origin, which was a word for the prayer said at-"
"3 pm," said somebody. I turned around and smiled when I saw Reid.
"Hey!" I stood up and shook his hand.
"Hey guys. Garcia told me where to find you."
"3 pm?" asked Morgan.
"As Leroy was saying, it's medieval. The days used to be broken into hourly intervals. The canonical hours of the Breviary. Prime, 6 am, Terce, 9 am, Sext, 12 noon, None, 3 pm, and Vespers, 6 pm."
I nodded. "So, when 3 pm rolls around, the shadow of the sword from the light from the window should point us where to look for the next clue."
"Medieval; that's why the language changed," said Gideon.
"Everything this guy does is a clue," said Hotch.
"Ok, but, guys, it's 4:35. What do we do? Leave the blade in 'til 3 pm tomorrow?" asked Morgan.
I shook my head. "Not an option. We could have more victims by then."
"Not if we can block that window out," said Reid. He turned to a lady. "Do you have any spotlights in your car?"
"Sure," she said.
We got to work setting up Reid's experiment.