Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds. Obviously.

Retribution

Chapter One

Special Agent Aaron Hotchner was sat at his desk, writing up the notes from the evaluation session he had just had with Dr. Spencer Reid. The young man was making great progress. From being a nervous awkward kid, he was starting to blossom into a more confident agent. The firearms skills would come as he gained more experience handling his gun and as everyone knew, his intelligence scores were off the scale.

Dr. Reid was a real asset to the team and Hotch was doing his best to make the young man realise that.

Hotch stifled a yawn. These evaluation interviews were exhausting and he still had Morgan's to do. A knock at the door was a welcome interruption.

"Come in," he called.

"Hi honey," said his wife as she entered. Haley perched on his desk and ruffled his hair. "You look shattered."

"I am," replied Hotch, "How are you? And more importantly, how is my credit card?"

"Exhausted!" laughed Haley. "But you know I needed new boots, and then a new purse to go with the boots and then …"

"Enough," groaned Hotch, shaking his head, "I don't think I want to know anymore. Anyway – are you done?"

"Nearly," replied Haley with a smile, "I just want to try that new toy store on the next block to help Santa with some ideas. I called in to say hi and to get out of the rain." She gestured towards her dripping umbrella.

Just then, her cell phone rang. She took the call quickly and then turned back to Hotch, with concern on her face. "Honey, I need to get home. That was my mom – she can't settle Ben and he's starting with a fever. I think I should be there."

"Of course" replied Hotch. "Where's your car?"

Haley shook her head. "I got a cab – I was hoping to get a ride home with you."

Hotch groaned and rubbed his forehead. "Sorry hon, but I'm going to be stuck here for ages yet." He closed his eyes, feeling the start of a headache behind his eyeballs. Then he opened them, "Hold on, I'll see if Reid can give you a ride – he lives nearby and I think he should be done for the day."

They left the office and headed down to the bull pen. "Reid," asked Hotch, "Can you do me a favour and run Haley home – Ben's sick and she doesn't have her car."

"Sure," nodded the young man with a smile. Then he frowned. "Oh," he said, "I came on my bike today."

Hotch looked grim. He thought for a moment, looking round the bull pen, then he sighed. He shifted from one foot to another and scratched his head. Haley and the rest of the team looked at him expectantly. "You can borrow my car," he said finally, tossing Reid the keys. He looked anything but happy about it.

Reid caught them with a grin. "Really?" he asked, "I can drive your car?"

"Hey," called Morgan with mock indignation, "How come Reid gets to drive the Hotchmobile?"

"Because he'll bring it straight back!" snapped Hotch.

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As he entered the garage with Haley, Reid hit the button on the key fob. The lights on Hotch's Mercedes flashed. Reid smiled and handed the keys to Haley.

"I won't tell him if you won't," he said, winking at her.

"Spencer Reid – you little devil!" replied Haley, laughing. "He's never even let me start it!"

She slid delightedly into the driver's seat as Reid strolled round to the other side of the car. He shivered – it was cold and he had left his jacket in the locker room.

"Try the trunk," called Haley, "Aaron keeps a coat in there."

Reid popped the trunk and sure enough there was a neatly folded winter jacket inside. He pulled it on and got into the car. "Go on," he urged Haley, "Make the most of it!"

The drive didn't take long, despite the pouring rain. Haley was friendly and chatty and Reid enjoyed her company. At Hotch's house, he waited until she was inside, then slid over to the driver's seat. Reaching into Hotch's pocket, he pulled out a woolly hat and grinning to himself, put it on, tucking his hair underneath it. His gun was digging into his hip, so he unbuckled the holster and put it on the passenger seat. Then he set off to enjoy the drive back.

Reid switched on the CD player and the car filled with the sound of Bruce Springsteen's Born to Run. He smiled – he just knew Hotch was a classic rock fan. It was a vast improvement on Morgan's unabashed love of Barry White. It was very dark and the rain was lashing down but the Mercedes was a beautiful car to drive and Reid was relishing the experience.

After a few minutes, Reid noticed flashing lights in the rear view mirror. He frowned – he wasn't speeding and he knew he hadn't run any red lights. The police car flashed its headlights at him and then pulled in front, flashing the lights again to indicate to him to follow. Reid sighed – it was probably a routine stop but his driver's licence and FBI badge were in the office. Hotch was not going to appreciate a call to verify the identity of the man driving his car.

He turned down an empty street and the police car came to stop. He pulled in behind. He guessed they wanted to avoid causing an obstruction at this time of day. He turned off the engine and waited.

The rain was so heavy he could hardly see the face of the cop who approached the Mercedes. The man knocked on the window. Reid searched for the control and lowered the window.

"Please place your hands on the wheel, sir," said the man. Reid obeyed. "We have a report that a car of this model was involved in a felony earlier today. Do you have any ID?"

Reid squinted at the man as the rain lashed through the open window. "Um, no," he replied, "But you can …"

He stopped abruptly as the cop pressed the cold muzzle of a gun to his cheek. "Get out of the car," said a low voice, full of menace.

Reid glanced towards his holster. "Don't even think about it," hissed the man. "One move and your brains will be all over this windscreen." Then he opened the car door.

Breathing deeply, Reid got slowly out of the car. He put his hands on his head to show he wasn't going to offer any resistance. Hotch was going to be livid about a carjacking but not even a Merc was worth dying for. He stood still, the rain running down his face as the "cop" handcuffed his hands behind his back. His accomplice had climbed out of the police car and Reid idly wondered why the Bureau was unaware of a carjacking team disguised as cops. Maybe he was the first victim. Fantastic.

To Reid's surprise, neither of the men got into the Mercedes. Instead, the taller man, the one who had originally approached the car, moved the gun to the back of his head. His partner, keeping another gun trained on Reid, opened the trunk of the police car. Reid's heart sank. Knowing that an attempt to escape was futile and realising that this probably wasn't a carjacking, he tried to slow his breathing to avoid a panic attack. He was claustrophobic and the thought of being forced into the trunk of the car was turning his stomach. He was trembling as his mouth was covered in tape and his legs were tied together. All the while, he could feel the barrel of the gun at the base of his skull. He had an overwhelming urge to either pee or vomit – neither of which were going to be possible. Then he was thrown into the trunk of the car and the lid slammed shut.