EXTREME AGRESSOR

Aaron Hotchner was at home with his heavily pregnant wife, Hailey. They were upstairs in their bedroom, creating a crib and trying to pick a name for their baby boy.

"How 'bout Andrew?" she asked. "It's Greek for 'valiant'".

"Let's call him ... Sergio," Aaron joked.

Haley laughed. "Please tell me you're kidding."

"Butch?"

"How about Donald?"

"Hans."

"No! Wait, wait. Um ... Okay…" She looked up and said, "Gideon."

Hotch laughed and walked over to her. "Not a chance."

"It's Hebrew. Look what it means. It's perfect. Gideon Hotchner."

"No."

"Yes."

He started kissing her. "No." Despite everything he did love his wife. He was happy and he wasn't afraid to admit it. The only that had begun to worry him recently was that Regina Williams was going to be returning back to work in a few days. Would she change everything.

"Yes," she laughed

"No."

"Gideon." Suddenly the phone rang. Both their faces fell, knowing exactly what that meant. Hotch gave his hug and son a big hug before walking over to the fax machine.

Derek Morgan was at a bar with three women. "It's the 1940s. He put bombs in train stations and movie theaters."

One of the women began hurriedly. "Uh, the "Mad Bomber," George Metesky."

Morgan picked up his glass. "Nice. The winners sit. Losers, drink."

"Cheers," they said in unison.

Another woman stopped them. "Hold on. Metesky wasn't a serial killer. None of his bombs ever killed anyone."

"Well, you think all we do is serial killers? Trust me, we cover the whole spectrum of psychos. We profiled the "DC Sniper," the "Unabomber." We do terrorists, arsonists-" he began explaining.

The final woman nodded. "Supervisory agents trying to get trainees drunk?"

Morgan laughed as his cell rang. He looked at the screen. "Excuse me."

He turned to check the call. It said BAU. The first woman looked at the name. "Wow. Behavioral Analysis Unit. You work with Gideon? Were you with him in Boston?"

He glanced back at them. "I was supposed to be." He answered the phone. "Yeah. This is Morgan…"

Regina Williams was having a girls night in with Penelope Garcia and Jennifer "JJ" Jareau, celebrating her final night as Garcia's roommate. She had just settled on the couch in her pyjamas and a tub of ice cream in her hand with her friends, when they turned on her.

"Are you sure you want to go back?" JJ asked.

Regina looked at her. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Hotch…" Garcia suggested.

Regina noticeably winced. "Thanks, babe." It had been six months and she knew he was happy. She'd seen him and his wife. Mostly together. Happy. But they hadn't talked since he had her temporarily transferred. She'd barely talked about him to the girls. Now there was no way around it.

JJ cut into her thoughts. "Can you cope?" she asked.

"I coped before CSU… why shouldn't I be able to now?"

"You're going to be working with him everyday."

"I'll manage. I'm… over him isn't how I want to put it… I'm a big girl and besides-" She was interrupted by her cell phone.

JJ grabbed it first. "Well it's not supposed to say that before the day after tomorrow."

She gave it to Regina. "Williams… Hey Reid…I'm not back until tomorrow… Ok… Ok, I'll meet you at the academy. Bye…" She hung up and took a deep breath. "Looks like I'm back."

Jason Gideon was standing at the front of a lecture hall. "Anyone recognize these faces?"

One of the students spoke. "Victims of the "Footpath Killer.""

"That's what Virginia newspapers are calling him. We refer to him as the "unknown subject" or "Unsub." I told Virginia PD -- we're looking for a white male in his 20s ... who owns an American-made truck in disrepair. Works a menial job. I told 'em when you find him ... don't be surprised to hear him speak with a severe stutter."

"Not to sound skeptical, but come on ... a stutter?" a young woman asked.

"Where'd the murders occur?" The room went silent. "Hiking paths. Isolated. If I'm a killer who has to use an immediate application of overpowering force, even out in the middle of nowhere, I lack confidence. I can't charm them into my car like Ted Bundy did. I can't because I am ashamed of something." The side door opened and Dr. Spencer Reid and Regina Williams stepped into the class. He held up a file folder and tapped on it. "Excuse me."

They walked out of the room and walked down a hall. "They're calling him the "Seattle Strangler." Four victims in four months. He keeps 'em alive seven days. The handle serves as a crank," Reid explained.

"Allowing him to control the rate of suffocation." He looked at Regina. "Welcome back."

Regina took a deep breath. "Thanks."

"To prolong it?" Reid continued.

"To enjoy it."

"Seattle's hit a wall?" Regina said. Her phone rang. "Just a second… Hello," she said answering it. It was the girls.

"Seen him yet?" Garcia asked.

"No… Look, I'll let you know when I do, ok?"

"Fine…" JJ conceded. "Reg, good luck."

"Thanks, Jayge." She hung up and rounded a corner, nearly walking straight into Aaron Hotchner. She looked up at him for a while. Morgan, standing behind Hotch, stepped forward. "Welcome back, Reg."

Regina averted her gaze from Hotch and smiled at Morgan. "Thanks, Derek…"

"After you," Hotch said.

Regina walked in first, in time to hear Gideon say that he'd get some thoughts to them soon.

"You're gonna be with us in Seattle ASAP," Hotch announced.

Gideon looked up from the file. Morgan held up a photo of Heather Woodland and Gideon takes it. "22-year-old Heather Woodland," Morgan explained.

"Before she left for lunch, she downloaded an email with a time-delayed virus attached. The killer's virus wiped her hard drive and left this on the screen," Hotch said, handing Gideon a photo of the message. He read it and immediately recognized it. He glanced at Hotchner before walking over to the nearby wall."

Gideon read a framed crime scene on the wall. "'For heaven's sake, catch me before I kill more. I cannot control myself.'"

"William Heirens, 1945… The Lipstick Killer."

"He never keeps them for more than seven days, which means we have fewer than 36 hours to find her."

"They want you back in the saddle. You ready?" Regina asked.

"Looks like medical leave's over, boss," Reid stated.

"They sure they want me?"

Hotch nodded. "The order came from the director."

"Well, we'd better get started."

They all left the office. Reid walked back with Regina. He smiled at her. "I'm fine," she said. "I just want everyone to stop asking me that… It's been six months."

"Actually, I was going to ask if, um… No I was going to ask if you were ok…"

She smiled and nodded. She slapped him on the back. "Nice, Reid."

Hotch held back. Reid walked ahead of them. "We need to talk…"

"I wasn't supposed to start until Friday… I don't have any energy to talk about that. I just want to find this girl…"

"Can we at least try to get along on cases?" Hotch asked.

"Ok, look, I'm an insanely pissed off ex girlfriend, who knows how to use a gun. I'm blaming you for all this… I will try to be as civil as I can with you. I am not making any promises." Hotch nodded and followed Regina into one of the cars.

Two black SUVs stopped on the runway in front of the airplane. Gideon, Reid and Morgan stepped out of the car with their gear and headed for the plane.

Joseph Conrad said, "The belief in a supernatural source of evil is not necessary. Men alone are quite capable of every wickedness."

Hotch, Regina and a female agent got out of the second car. Regina walked ahead of Hotch and the other woman. When she made it up the stairs, Reid was still standing there. She looked where he was looking and saw Hotch speaking with the other agent. He saw them looking and made his way to them. Regina urged Reid inside. Hotch walked up the steps and looked at Regina, not answering the questions her eyes asked. They walked into the plane.

The other men were already sitting down. Hotch took a seat and Regina stood. Gideon walked up the aisle to join Reid, Morgan, Regina and Hotchner. Regina read the file.

"His first victim was 26-year-old Melissa Kirsh. Stab wounds, strangulation."

"Wait, wait. Back up, back up. He stabbed her ... and then strangled her to finish her off?" Morgan asked.

"Other way around," Gideon replied. "Why do you think he started using the belt with the second murder?"

"Strangulation with your bare hands is not as easy as one would believe. He tried, probably found that it took too long..."

"So he stabbed her instead," Morgan finished.

"And realized it would be hours cleaning up the blood," Hotch said.

"Next time, our boy's got a method -- the belt."

Gideon nodded. "He's learning, perfecting his scenario…"

"Becoming a better killer," Regina finished as she moved to sit down before take off.

The next day, the team filed into the FBI Field office in Seattle. Morgan held the door open for the team. Gideon reached for his bag from the conveyor belt and walked away from the team. Morgan Reid and Regina followed while Hotch went through the metal detectors. Morgan bent in towards Reid and Regina. "He never stands with his back to a window. When I was between him and a doorway, he asked me to move," he stated.

"That's hyper vigilance. It's not uncommon in post-traumatic stress disorder," Reid explained.

"Just how much disorder are we talking about?"

"Morgan," Regina said.

Hotch came up behind them. "It's been six months. Everything's okay.

Hotch began the introductions. "This is Special Agent Gideon, Special Agent Morgan, our expert on obsessional crimes, Special Agent Reid.

"Doctor Reid," Gideon corrected.

"Dr. Reid, our expert on, well, everything, Agent Williams, our forensic expert, and after two years busting my butt in this office, I hope you remember me." The office chuckled. Regina threw a look to her male colleagues, her eyes wide. She mouthed to them, "Not funny," and shook her head. They smiled. Gideon looked at the board and began the profiling.

"He's willing to travel with the body."

"Then he drives a vehicle capable of concealing one, Hotch said.

"One in 7.4 drivers in Seattle owns an SUV," Reid said.

"Explorer with tinted windows," Morgan tried.

"Explorers rate higher with women," Regina countered.

"But how do we know it's his car?" Morgan asked. "Ted Bundy drove a VW Bug."

"What about a Jeep Cherokee?" Hotch asked.

"Jeeps are more masculine," Regina shot down quickly.

Gideon turned and looked at the group. "We all know how an Unsub feels about asserting his masculinity."

"When did the Bureau become involved in the case?" Hotch asked

A Seattle Agent answered him. "After the fourth body. He dumped that one out of state."

Hotch turned and looked at Gideon. "On purpose."

"If so, knowledge of law enforcement does suggest a criminal record," Regina said.

"Or that he watches television. May I?" Morgan stated.

Another Agent walked over to them. "So you wanna see our suspect list?"

"No," Hotch answered, "we won't look at a suspect list until after we come up with a profile. It keeps our perspective unbiased."

"When do we sit down with your task force?" Gideon asked.

"Four o'clock."

"An accurate profile by four o'clock today?" Morgan asked.

Gideon looked at the far victim board and suddenly walked past them. He spoke absently. "That's not a problem." The agents followed Gideon as he neared the board.

"Agent Gideon," Hotch began, "where would you like to start?"

Gideon pointed to one of the photos. "Let's start at the site of the last murder."

"Reid and I will go to Heather Woodlands home," Hotch said. "Morgan go with Agent Gideon, Williams go over the forensic side of things."

Gideon walked around the very area where the body was found. An officer and Morgan followed at a distance. Morgan looked around the area.

"So that's Gideon? The Gideon. The one who caught that guy, Adrian Bail, in Boston?" the officer asked.

"Yep. That's him. But catching him cost us six agents." Gideon walked to the spot and looked around. In his mind, he heard the woman's scream echoing. Morgan walks up to him. "22-year-old Anne Cushing was found right here. Nails clipped just like the others. He wants them to fight back." Gideon looked down at the photo in his hand. It's on Anne Cushing.

"But not enough to hurt him. And he left the belt around her neck." He handed the photo back to Morgan. "He's probably in his early 20s."

Morgan shook his head. "What's your reasoning?"

"Youthful arrogance." Gideon turned and looked around. Morgan sighed.

"He clothed the body before dumping it."

"That's a sign of remorse."

"It's not consistent. Look where we are. His opinion of women is pretty clear, don't you think?"

"They're disposable."

"Why show remorse by taking the time to dress her but then dump her here?" Gideon stopped as he thought about it.

A sandy-colored dog barked at Reid and Hotchner. Reid is startled. David Woodland grabbed the dog's collar. "Sandy, no, no, no. I'm so sorry."

"No, it's okay. It's what we call the Reid effect," Hotch explained. They glanced over at Reid. "Happens with children, too. I'm Agent Hotchner. This is Special Agent Dr. Reid."

"You look too young to have gone to medical school."

"They're Ph.D.s. --three of them," Reid said.

"Are you a genius or something?" Hotch starts petting the dog.

DR. SPENCER REID: I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified-" Reid began, "-but I do have an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory and can read 20,000 words per minute…" Seeing the look on David's face, he said, "Yes, I'm a genius." Reid turned and looked around the room as Sandy began barking.

Hotch looked down at the dog as he continued petting her. "Sandy, you get a lot of attention, don't you?"

"Yeah, Heather loves this dog. I feed her when Heather's away. Usually, she's fine, but ... lately, she won't eat. It's almost like she can sense something's wrong."

"Not sense. Smell. Our apocrine sweat gland releases secretions in response to emotional stress," Reid explained.

Hotch explained in plain English. "Sandy's worried because she knows you are." David nodded. Reid looked at the magazines on the dresser.

Reid picked up a magazine. "David, does your sister drive a Datsun Z?"

"No, but she's in the market for one. How'd you know?" Reid picked up the magazine and showed it to them. Sandy barked. "Come on, Sandy." David took Sandy out of the room.

Hotch looked at Reid. "There's an immediate relationship established between a buyer and a seller, a level of trust. If I want to coax a young woman into my car..."

Hotch nodded in understanding. "Offer her a test drive."

Regina sat in the conference room of the Seattle field office, looking through autopsy files. Her cell phone rang. "Are you alone?" JJ asked.

"Yes… you guys need to stop calling me."

"Got it. How are you?"

"JJ…"

"Regina, we love you. We want to make sure you are alright."

"I know… and I love you guys too… I'm sorry. I'm fine. Hotch's fine. We've agreed to try to get along for this case."

An agent walked in with another file. "Heather Woodland," she mouthed.

Regina nodded. "Jayge, I have to go. Look we'll talk in more detail when I get back… Yeah, you, me, Garci and a big bottle of Vodka… Bye." The agent threw the file next to Regina.

"Have fun," she said.

"Thanks," Regina laughed.

The agent turned to leave but turned back to Regina. "Elle Greenaway…" She held out her hand.

"Regina Williams." Regina took it and they shook.

"So, what's it like working for the BAU?" she asked, sitting on the desk.

"Oh a bundle of fun… I get to come out here with all the guys. My best friends get to stay home, in their own beds, with their own food…"

"Yeah, plane food must suck," Elle said. She nodded to the files. "Got anything yet?" she asked.

"I'll know more when my team get back…"

"Well, I'll let you get back… Hate to rub it in, but, uh, I'm going to the gym…with my best friends."

She nodded. "Nice."

"Sorry."

She left Regina alone. It was the first time Regina had been alone with her thoughts since she had started back at the BAU again. She was thankful that it wasn't for long.

The team met again at the conference room.

They told each other what they had found out. Morgan tossed a baseball and paced the floor as he thought. "Okay, then how 'bout the fact that on one hand, we have paranoid psychosis ... but the autopsy protocol says what?"

Reid started twirling around and around in his office chair. Regina flipped through the autopsy reports. "Adhesive residue shows he put layer after layer of duct tape over his victims' eyes," she said. Hotchner listened as they talked, as does Gideon, standing on the other end of the room looking at the photos on the wall.

"He knows he wants to kill them, but he still covers their eyes."

"He doesn't want 'em looking at him," Regina said.

"Okay, but then he takes the body and dumps it right out in the open, murder weapon nearby."

"Not the MO of a paranoid convinced he's being watched or surveilled," Reid said.

"Paranoid psychosis, but behavior that's not paranoid."

"Maybe he's schizophrenic," Hotch thought.

"Maybe we just don't have enough for a complete profile."

"We have enough to narrow our list of suspects," Hotch countered.

"We're looking at less than 12 hours to have to find this woman," Morgan said.

"We don't know exactly what--"

"Hey, Hotch, we don't know anything!"

"All right, enough." Gideon spoke. Everyone went quiet. "Let's tell them we're ready."

Gideon turned and headed out of the room. Hotchner, Regina and Reid are very quiet; Hotch looks down, Reid continues to spin, Regina is clicking her pen.

Morgan is stunned. "We're ready?" Gideon left the room without answering him. Morgan looked at the others. "Reg, Reid. You're good with this? We've got a woman who's only got a few hours left to live, an incomplete profile, and a unit chief on the verge of a nervous breakdown."

The door opened and Gideon rushed back in to grab something. "They don't call them nervous breakdowns anymore." Again, he left the room.

"It's called a major depressive episode," Reid said.

"I know, Reid."

Regina and Hotch quickly glanced at each other. Regina stood up. She walked past Morgan. "Just back off, Morgan."

Gideon makes the presentation, as the team stood by a far wall.

"The unidentified subject is white and in his late 20s. He's someone you wouldn't notice at first. He's someone who'd blend into any crowd. The violent nature of the crime suggests a previous criminal record -- petty crimes. Maybe auto theft. We've classified him as an organized killer -- careful. Psychopathic as opposed to psychotic. He follows the news, has good hygiene. He's smart. Because he's smart, the only physical evidence you'll find is what he wants you to find. He's mobile, car in good condition. Our guess -- Jeep Cherokee, tinted windows. The murders have all involved rapes. But rape without penetration is a form of piquerism, and that tells us he's sexually inadequate. Psychiatric evaluations will show a history of paranoia stemming from a childhood trauma-- death of a parent or family member. And now he feels persecuted and watched. Murder gives him a sense of power. Organized killers have a fascination with law enforcement. They will inject themselves into the investigation. They will even come forward as witnesses to see just how much the police really know. That makes them feel powerful, in control. Which is why I also think ... in fact, I know ... you have already interviewed him."

Later that night, Regina is walking across the street toward the Slessman house. She glances behind her, then hurries up the grass and up the porch stairs. She knocks on the door. The door opens. An old woman with an oxygen tank, wearing a nasal canula and leaning heavily on a cane answers the door. In the background, we see a young woman carrying a toddler.

"Hi," Regina began. "I'm sorry to bother you. I'm house-sitting down the street, and when I got back, the door was wide open, and the lights weren't working. I feel stupid asking this, but is there someone who might be able to take a look inside with me?"

Mrs. Slessman turns and calls up the stairs. "Richard. Richard, get down here!"

Slessman and Regina walk across the street toward the house.

"Are you sure you locked it?" Slessman asked.

"Yeah."

They walked up the front steps. He turned on his flashlight and pushed the door open.

"Hello?"

He stepped into the house slowly and looked around. Regina followed him inside. He walked deeper into the house, looking at the dining room area.

"Hello!" Slessman called.

Suddenly, armed FBI agents burst out from their hiding places.

"FBI! Freeze!" an agent said. Richard is surprised. Elle grabs his hands, twisting them behind his back. He dropped the flashlight and falls forward to his knees. "Get him down!" She takes out her handcuffs and cuffs him.

"Richard Slessman, FBI. You are under arrest." Richard turns and looks to the side. Gideon steps forward and looks at him. Richard smiles back at him.

Emerson said, "All is riddle, and the key to a riddle ... is another riddle."

The front door of the Slessman home opened and Hotch rushed in with other agents quickly following.

"I'm going up," he said, as he ran up the stairs. Gideon walked into the house; Reid, Morgan and Regina joining him.

"There's no sign of the girl here. We can arrest him with probable cause, but we won't be able to hold him," Reid stated. Gideon walked down the hallway enough to glance into the kitchen. He saw Mrs. Slessman sitting at the kitchen table, a woman carrying a baby standing next to her. "Slessman's been at the top of the suspect list."

"Is that the mother?" Elle stepped into the hallway.

"Grandmother. The mother died in a fire when he was 13."

Gideon walked past her and toward the kitchen. "Probably not the only fire in his childhood."

Reid looked around the room, Regina and Morgan standing behind him. "Before his "Son of Sam" murders, David Berkowitz set a multitude of fires.

"Exactly how much is a multitude?" Morgan asked.

"According to his diary, 1,400 and ..."

" ... 88," Regina finished for him.

Gideon turned to Elle. "Luring him out was your idea, right? Greenaway?"

"Elle. I don't send a SWAT team into a house with children."

"Hotch says your background is in sex offender cases. What can you tell us?"

"The last four murders show he's an anger-excitation rapist. He'll keep a victim for a couple of days. He probably records or videotapes them so that he can keep reliving the fantasy."

Gideon turned to Regina. "You okay with Hotch being in on the interview?"

"I'd like him to lead, actually," Regina said.

"Fine. But hold off. Slessman's done time, and he knows the process. And all you will get now is a demand for a lawyer."

Gideon turned and headed out. Elle looked a little disappointed. "Hotch," he called up the stairs, "let's check the garage, then show me what you got."

As Hotch was going down the stairs, Regina went up

When they came back into the house they joined Reid and Regina in the attic. Elle soon walked into the attic to find them there. They're all staring at a Go board. Hotch stood in the back of the room behind them.

"What kind of game is it?" Elle asked.

"In China, it's called Wei- Chi. Here we call it "Go". It's considered to be the most difficult board game ever conceived," Regina announced. She and Reid were bent over the board game.

"Chairman Mao required his generals to learn it," Gideon stated.

"It also looks like he's playing himself," Reid said.

"How can you tell?" Elle asked.

Reid reached down and spun the board.

"This might provide an advantage, actually," Regina said. "Go is considered to be a particularly psychologically revealing game. There are profiles for every player -- The Conservative Point Counter, The Aggressor, The Finesser."

"What kind of player is Slessman?" Hotch asked.

Regina leaned forward to study the board for a moment. She looked at Hotch. "Extreme Aggressor."

Elle, Reid, Gideon, Regina and Hotch left the attic, heading straight for the second floor bedroom just as Morgan finishes setting up a laptop to get into Richard's computer.

"Okay, here we go," Morgan was saying.

The laptop began to hum and a DEADBOLT DEFENSE login appears on the screen.

"What's the number 6 at the bottom of the screen?" Elle asked.

"Number of password attempts before the program wipes the hard drive."

"There could be an email or a journal in the computer, something that tells us where Heather is. Do you think you can break in?" Suddenly, Gideon is listening in on their conversation.

"In six tries?" Morgan scoffed and shook his head.

" 'Try again. Fail again. Fail better.'" Morgan looked at Reid.

Reid nodded. "Samuel Beckett."

Morgan blinked." 'Try not. Do. Or do not,'"

Regina looked Gideon. "Yoda."

Gideon turned and looked on the small wall shelf. He suddenly sees something and reaches out to grab a book from the bottom of the stack. He pulls the book out and looks at it. The title of the book is "Journal of Applied Criminal Psychology." He flips through the pages of the book and finds a newspaper clipping inside. The partial headline reads: "-BLAST KILLS SIX". The photo under it shows two men. One of them is Gideon, his hands and pants bloodied. Reid, who is standing next to Gideon also looking at the news article, looks at Gideon.

"I wanna talk to him." Gideon closes the textbook and heads out of the room.

Regina and Morgan look up from the laptop as Gideon leaves.

Regina, Reid and Hotch follow Gideon downstairs. Regina and Reid wait in the living room. "Do you think Gideon will be ok?"

Reid said nothing.

Minutes later Gideon walked out of the room and the house. Hotch followed. Reid went back upstairs.

Regina was left to her thoughts. Then something hit her she ran outside to Hotch and Gideon.

"What is it?" Hotch asked as he turned to her.

Regina smiled. "Conflicts in the profile."

"Two different behaviors."

Gideon smiled. "Two different people. There's a second killer."

Regina stayed with Morgan while Reid, Hotch, Gideon and Elle went back to the field office. She was on the phone.

"You've reached Penelope Garcia in the FBI's Office of Supreme Genius".

"First, ask me how I am and I will end you…"

"Got it…"

"Second, I need you to work me some magic here. I got a program called Deadbolt Defense and a girl with only a couple of hours to live, so what do you know?

"Then you've got a problem. Deadbolt's the number one password crack-resistant software out there. You're gonna have to get inside this guy's head to get the password."

"I thought I was calling the 'Office of Supreme Genius'."

"Well, gorgeous, you've been rerouted to the office of 'Too Friggin' Bad.'"

Regina took a deep breth. "Thanks anyway." She hung up.

Morgan agrees to stay at the house while Regina goes to the office to help Hotch with the interviews. She and Reid are standing at a desk. Hotchner enters the office and heads for them.

"We get an address on Linder?" he asked.

"It's coming right now," Regina replied looking at the machine.

Hotch hands something to the agent sitting at the desk.

"Does senior management want a field assessment on Gideon?" Reid asked.

Hotch looked form one to the other. "Don't worry about it," he replied quietly.

"Are they nervous about him being in charge?"

"Aren't you on your way back to Slessman's house to help Morgan?" He turned and walked away for a moment.

"Do you know why he always introduces me as Dr. Reid?" Hotch turned and headed back toward them.

"He knows that people see you as a kid, and he wants to make sure that they respect you…" Reid nodded and walked off. He looked at Regina. "What's the address?"

"Don't think it matters anymore."

Hotch sighed. They look at the fax printout.

Winston Churchill said, "The farther backward you can look, the farther forward you will see.

Later, Hotch and Regina entered the observation room. Two agents were in the room. Hotch lowered the room temperature.

The male agent leaned over to the female agent. "What's he doing?"

Lowering the room temp. The cold puts them on edge.

Hotch turned to the two agents. "Okay, so I want an SPD, and I want a Seattle agent in the room. I want him to see that we've got every department working on this. And I need some file boxes. Fill them. I don't care if the paper's blank. And I want you to write the name on the sides." Hotch and Regina left the room.

They soon entered the interview room carrying a file box. The other agents followed them inside, each carrying a file box. Hotch stood in front of Richard, while Regona took a corner.

"Four months of investigative work, one file, and guess what, Richard. It's not your file. See, we don't care about you." Hotch slid the box toward Richard. On the side is read: 621209-05; TIMOTHY VOGEL; VOG. 216210. "It's Vogel we want." He starts walking as he talks. "We found out Heather was buying a used car. You know how car salesmen get us to buy a car? They call it reciprocity. They drop the price and ... feels like they've done us a favor. We feel obligated. There's a sudden pressure to reciprocate this one little favor. And it's so powerful that we'll ... put a deposit down on a car we're not even sure we really want.

"So what?" Richard asked casually.

"So Vogel did you a favor. He protected you in prison, and now you feel like you owe him and you need to protect him. Guys like Vogel learn in the schoolyard which kids to bully and which kids to protect, and he's got you convinced that you owe him so much that you'll go to jail for him. Richard ... I'm here to remind you of something. You owe him nothing."

Suddenly Regina's phone rang. She looked at the name and then up at Hotch. He followed her outside.

She put Gideon on speaker phone as the walked to an office. "Hotch, he's gonna kill her. He's heading there now. We need a location."

Hotch is pacing around the room. "I don't have enough time to get it out of him."

"Find something, Hotch, or that girl is dead." He hung up. He threw a glance at Regina and they moved again, heading back for the interview room, tossing ideas. "We could say something and hope it works…" she offered.

"And if it doesn't anything we say to him, he'll believe is just a guess…"

"Well then we need a miracle…" As if someone else had heard her her cell phone rang again… Morgan. She put him on speaker phone. "Vogel's on his way to her and we have nothing," she announced.

"We do… We got webcam images of Heather… She's on a boat."

"She's on a boat? Where?" Hotch asked, hopeful.

"It's a pier or a dock. He wouldn't be able to transmit the Webcam image from the middle of the ocean."

"You're sure about this."

"It's the best we got, Hotch," Regina said.

"Even if we're right, getting the exact location's on you, my friend," Morgan told them.

Hotch smiled slightly, the smile that had previously made Regina weak in the knees. Now when she saw it, made her want to make an artificial night and hop into bed, crying, being comforted by her mother. "What is it you always ask Garcia?"

"To work me a little magic."

Regina take that as the end of the conversation and hangs up. Hotch opens the interview room door.

Regina took a corner again and Hotch stared at one of the screens on the wall showing Slessman.

"Just to let you know ... Gideon's talking to Vogel ... and Vogel's nailing you to the wall." He began walking around the room.

"Yeah, whatever."

"He said it was your idea to keep the girls on a boat. He's talking, Richard. Reciprocity. Tell me where she is, and we make a deal. Is it a dock? A pier?"

Richard hesitated before answering. "It's a shipyard. Allied Shipyard."

Regina hurries out of the room. Hotch comes to stand beside her as Gideon picks up. "Allied Shipyard…"

Hotch's cell rings this time. He answers. He is silent for a moment and hangs up. "It was Morgan. Vogel's in the room with her."

"Let's go."

When the arrive at the shipyard, paramedics following, the find a bleeding Gideon, propped up against some boxes, and Elle comforting Heather, Regina rushes to help her.

The sun began to rise as Reid and Morgan arrived. Heather is on a gurney as Gideon looks down at her. He puts a hand on her forehead, turns and leaves as the EMTs put Heather into the back of an ambulance. Gideon walks away. Hotchner and Regina sit on the side watching Gideon. She soon leaves when she sees Reid and Morgan carrying coffees. She smiles as she passed by Morgan to head up to Reid.

"So I hear you figured out the password… Nice work, Genius boy."

He smiles and hands her a cup of coffee. "So how'd it go?" he asked.

Regina smiled in response, unsure of the answer. As they walked toward Hotch and Morgan she began thinking. It was great she was able to work with him with out falling apart but she wondered how long it would last.

"Guess what Gideon means in Hebrew?" Hotch asked Morgan. Reid and Regina pass by and hear the question.

He answers. "Mighty warrior. Appropriate." They walk away. Regina smiles at him, unknowing that behind her Hotch is doing the same thing.

It's late that night as they leave Seattle. Regina is at the front of the plane, reading a book; Morgan is sleeping in his seat, the file he's reading off to the side; Reid is lying across several chairs. He rolls over and clutches his jacket closer. Gideon is awake. Hotch walks over to him with a cup of coffee in his hand. He sits on the armrest across the aisle from Gideon. Regina watches them, barely hearing their conversation, unable to help it.

"Hey," Hotch said

"You and Haley pick the baby's name yet?"

"It's funny ... Haley liked the name Charles, but, you know ... all I could think of ..."

Gideon chuckled, knowing the answer. "Manson."

"Then there was Henry."

"Lee Lucas."

"Uh ... Jeffrey."

"Dahmer."

"There's just too many of them."

"Kind of hard to feel good about catching one when you know there are fifty more still out there." Hotch stood to leave. "How's your report going?" Hotch smiles and scratches his head, busted. "Didn't think you could hide that from an old profiler, now, did ya?"

His smile changed. "You know, you saved that girl today. You can feel good about that."

"It is good. It's a good thing."

Hotch put a hand on Gideon's shoulder. Regina looked down as Hotch turned and walked away.

His next stop was at the back of the plane. He sat across the table from her. "Hey," he said to Regina. She didn't look up. "Damn Reg, what do you want me to do?" he asked, looking at her pleadingly.

"You want to know what I want," she asked. When she looked up at him, it took all her strength to keep the tears that were preparing to fall in place. "I want you to leave your wife, to tell me you love me and not her…I want you to go back in time and have not married her or have told me about her, or not made stay or pushed me away before we slept together or chose me over her… But you can't do any of that…"

He began saying something but stopped. He looked down. "No, I can't. But if I could I would, do all that stuff."

Hotch stood and left, leaving her tears to silently flow freely.