Old Enemies

Chapter 1

Garcia knocked on Rossi's door. "Enter," Rossi yelled

"Hey, I just got a file from Florida. There's been a murder, and they thought we should know about it," she said as she walked in carrying a paper file folder.

"Just one? Why do they need our help? Are they actually asking for help?

"Well. . . "

"And why aren't you discussing this with Hotch?"

"Well. . . I wasn't sure if I could go to him about this."

"What?" Rossi could tell by Garcia's face that something was wrong. "Let me see it."

"There's not a lot of information, but they sent the crime scene photos," she told him as she handed him the file.

Rossi opened the file and looked at Garcia with a shocked look. "Are they serious? This can't be. . ."

"Now you know why I didn't want to go to Hotch."

"Garcia, this can't be real," he said sternly. "This has to be a copy cat."

"I know, but St. John's County wanted us to know about it before it hit the news. Should we tell Hotch?" she asked with a worried look.

"Is St. Johns calling it a copy-cat?"

"Yes."

"Then, I think we can just let this go. If they actually contact us for help, then we'll tell Hotch."

Garcia breathed a sigh of relief. "Ok. Sounds good." She smiled at Rossi and left his office.

Rossi looked down at the file again. A gory photo of a couple found dead in their vehicle, a bloody mess, stared back at him. The couple wasn't what had Garcia so rattled, though, it was the giant Eye of Providence, the sign of The Reaper, that was so disturbing. Rossi took a deep breath and closed the file.

XXXXX

Two days later Rossi was at home making himself dinner. The news was on the TV in the background. Just as he was taking a sip of wine – "Is the Reaper back?" the news anchor asks. Rossi spit out the sip of wine he was about to swallow and grabbed the remote to turn up the TV. Of course it had to go to commercial, Rossi thought disgustingly. The news finally came back on after Rossi impatiently waited through six commercials. The news man explained that for some reason local police have not linked six murders across three states to the same killer. "The Reaper is at it again," the man explained as pictures of vehicles surrounded by police appear on the screen behind the man's head. Rossi slams down the remote in anger. How could anyone. . .

"The FBI claims that the reaper is dead. That the case that lasted over 10 years is closed, but now the Reaper is alive and killing again . . ." Rossi turned his attention from his TV to his phone that had begun ringing.

"Are you watching this?" came Hotch's voice through the phone. There was no anger in his voice, but Rossi could definitely detect unease.

XXXXX

The next morning the BAU bullpen was abuzz as the team quietly discussed the news from the previous night. They were all in agreement that the news anchor must be insane trying to incite panic by reporting that The Reaper was alive. All of the hushed talking ceased, though, as Section Chief Strauss emerged from Hotch's office. She walked quietly back toward her office with all eyes following her out the glass doors. Once the doors shut behind her, they all looked back towards Hotch's office. Rossi emerged from Hotch's office first, looking a bit uneasy. He slowly looked down at the rest of the team. "We have a case. Conference room in five minutes," he told them. They all glanced around at each other and then went to their own desks to gather their stuff.

On the way, Morgan ran into Garcia carrying a stack of file folders. "Hey baby girl," he said with a smile that could melt any woman's heart. She stopped and looked at him. He noticed none of the usual peppiness that Garcia usually oozes.

"This is not a good morning Daryl," she insisted.

"Hey, this is not our first copy-cat, Penelope. Just another psychopath who can't think of anything original," he told her trying to sound off-handed.

"I know, but why The Reaper? And Why us? Don't the people upstairs know what happened? Do they even care about Hotch?"

Morgan put his hands on her shoulders. "They want us to handle this because of our familiarity with the original case. You know we can do this, and as far as Hotch goes, he wouldn't have accepted the case if he couldn't handle it."

"I know. I know. I just don't even like the thought of any of you having to relive that monster."

Morgan gave her a kiss on the forehead, and they walked to the conference room together.

XXXXX

A killer dressed in all black, a black hood, and a black paint ball mask that hid all but his eyes crouched over a man covered in blood. The bloody man, who was lying on the side of a road, screamed as the killer slowly slid his knife between two of the man's ribs. "Don't worry, you'll be dead soon," the killer reassured the man in a sadistic voice. As the dying man gasped for air, the killer moved over to a woman lying on the ground next to the bloody man. "But, unfortunately you will not die before you get to witness the glorious things I will do to your wife." The woman tried to screamed, but the gag in her mouth only allowed a strangled whimper to escape her lips. "Now you. . . you don't deserve the timed precision cuts that I used on your husband," he told the woman as he waved the wicked looking knife in front of her face. The killer looked back at the dying man to make sure he had the man's attention. The woman tried to squirm away, but the killer looked back to her. "And where do you think you are going?" he screamed as he slammed the knife into the woman's abdomen over and over again. Once he was finished with her, he checked the husband to make sure he was also dead. Once he was sure, he put his gloved fingers into the pool of blood that was forming underneath the woman's body. He reached up and scrawled The Reaper's Eye on the side of the vehicle and then slowly walked away.

XXXXX

"So why weren't we contacted about this before now?" Morgan asked.

"The murders were in different states, and local police didn't connect the cases until the news last night," Garcia started to explain.

"Exactly how did that reporter put the cases together?" Blake asked.

"He received a letter," Hotch stated plainly as he walked into the room holding a typed letter sealed in an evidence bag. He handed the letter the Reid as he sat down.

Everyone waited for Reid to quickly read it. "He says that the FBI is trying to cover up his return. That he is not dead."

"Are you kidding me? This guy is trying to convince the media that The Reaper isn't dead?" Morgan voiced with anger.

Rossi took the letter from Reid. "The killer is saying that he was never caught, and therefore he was never killed. That we lied to cover-up the fact that we couldn't catch him," Rossi explained further as he read the letter. The letter was printed on yellowed paper and had a red "eye" drawn on it.

"And this idiot news man is buying this story? Who is he anyway?" Morgan asked.

"Mike Tolburt. He is the lead anchor for a small station in Georgia," JJ told them.

"What makes him so special?" Blake asked.

"Nothing that we could find. He is just a low level anchor at a local station. He's clean from what we can tell," Rossi told them.

"Then why did the killer contact him? Why not a bigger station for bigger coverage?" Blake wondered.

"The KLPD station is the local station for the second killing, other than that, we can find no connection," JJ explained.

Garcia's laptop made a noise and she started tapping on the mouse. "Ut-Oh," she said with a worried look.

"What?" Hotch asked.

"There's been another killing," Garcia said slowly as she transferred files to the plasma screen, and images flooded the screen. The first was a woman lying in a pool of blood and her chest and torso were so tore up that it was impossible to determine how many times she had been stabbed. Another image showed a half-naked man with multiple stab wounds. The last image showed a bloody "Eye of Providence" that covered the side of a light colored SUV.

As Hotch stared at the screen, the all too disturbing scenes from his past came flooding into his mind. There were too many pictures to count – too many lives lost to that deranged psychopath. He was dead, though, Hotch saw to that by killing him with his bare hands after Foyet killed his wife. Why now, four years later, would someone be copying The Reaper? And why was he claiming to actually be the original? The body was never claimed, so the state had him cremated to dispose of the body.

"Well, it looks like one of The Reapers' crime scenes. . ." Rossi starts.

"They are holding the scene until we get there," Garcia informed them.

They all looked to Hotch. As he felt all of their eyes on him, he snapped out of his painful memories. "What?"

"They're holding the scene until we get there," JJ told him.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Alright, wheels up in ten. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can catch this unsub." Everyone gathered their stuff and started to leave the room. Hotch stayed a moment, his eyes lingering on the "eye" drawn in blood on the screen.

XXXXX

On the jet to North Carolina

"Well, if you are going to copy a famous serial killer, the Reaper has got to be one of the easiest now," Reid explained plainly.

"Huh?" Morgan asked looking up from his tablet.

"Well statistically, since the Reaper's reign was in modern time, every book, every mention of him can be accessed by anyone with an internet connection," he explained.

"And believe me, my lovelies, if you search "The Reaper", you get more than one million hits, and only a few of those deal with Old Mr. Grim," Garcia cut in from the laptop sitting on the table. "And these hits include all aspects of the Reaper case and Foyet's life," she added.

"So what is this guy copying exactly?" Blake asked.

"Well, he's definitely showing more rage against the young women," JJ told them as she looked through the files.

"Easily found info," Garcia let her know.

"The eye is perfectly drawn; there's no hesitation in the drawling," Reid pointed out.

"Again, easily found," Garcia added.

"But he would have had to practice it many times to drawl it that easily," Reid added.

"He crosses gender, race, socioeconomic, and state lines. He definitely doesn't care who he kills," Blake tells them.

"The Reaper was on omnivore, and apparently this unsub is too," Hotch states plainly.

"Well, one difference is the crossing of state lines. When Foyet started he stayed around Boston," Rossi pointed out.

"Yeah, Foyet didn't switch states until. . ." Morgan started, but stopped as he looked at Hotch.

"Until he came after me," Hotch finished Morgan statement. They all just stared at him. He knew what they were thinking, so he answered their unspoken questions for them. "I'm fine. I will be fine. I can handle this." He could tell by their expressions that they weren't so sure. "Look, we know Foyet's dead. We know this is a copycat. Stop worrying so much," he tried to reassure them.

"Hotch," Rossi looked him in the eyes. "This might bring up some horrible memories; memories you've worked hard to get past."

"You don't think that I've considered that? That I haven't had to deal with them already?" Hotch asked looking at each of them. They returned sympathetic looks. "Alright, if it gets to be too much, I will step out and let you all finish the investigation, agreed?" he asked them as a whole. With no offered objections he continued. "Morgan, Rossi, and Blake – you go to the crime scene. Reid and JJ, I want you with me at the station. Garcia?"

"Yes sir?"

"See if you can get that reporter to come and meet us there."

"And if he doesn't want to?'' she asked from the laptop screen.

"Just be extra persuasive," Morgan told her with a wink.

"Just let him know that obstructing a federal investigation can get him 5-15 years," Rossi said with a grin.

"Okeydokey," she said and signed off.