Your Guardian Angel

Chapter Fifteen

BRITAIN'S P.O.V.

The burlap bag over my head scratched at my face. It was so suffocating even though air could still reach me through the opening by my neck. My hands were bound behind my back and my ankles were bound together, my knees bent so my legs were behind me. 

"What do you want with me?!"

I waited for an answer. But, panic gripped me when all I heard was steady breathing.

"Please! Let me go!"

No answer.

I knew screaming would never work. It would only waste my energy and I needed to save it for later. Spencer and I had talked about what we should do if this ever happened again, and conserve energy was the number one rule. Empathize and negotiate were numbers two and three. Anything that needed to be done to stay alive for as long as possible.

"You're were supposed to die the first time. This isn't a part of the script. Now it's all going to be messed up. You weren't supposed to get away."

My captor seemed calm for now, so I kept quiet. No reason to anger him before I found a way to escape captivity.

SPENCER'S  P.O.V.

"Reid, you've got to breathe."

"I am breathing, Garcia."

"But, you're, like, breathing heavy. Breathe normal. In, out. Normally. Here." Garcia shoved a bag of cotton candy at me. "Breathe that in."

MORGAN'S P.O.V.

"The address was a fake. The license plate was stolen. Is there anything useful that can get this girl back to her boyfriend?"

Hotch sighed on the other side of the line. "That's all we have on him. We're working, Derek."

"Do we even have a name? A real name?"

"No."

"Damnit, Hotch. Then what are we doing? Just sitting on our asses drinking cof- Hold on. What kind of car did the UnSub drive?"

"Yellow wagon. Plate 23P89zX. Why?"

I pulled into the parking lot of the 9-11, parking right behind the yellow station wagon. "I have him, Hotch."

"I'm sending in a team of back up. Where are you?"

I drew my gun. "Oh, no, Hotch. I'm taking care of this myself."

HOTCH'S P.O.V.

"Reid, just a little while longer."

"I'm handcuffed to a car door, Hotch. Stop trying to console me. I'm pretty pissed."

"It's for your own saftey, Reid."

"You mean it's so I don't rip that UnSub to shreds with my bare hands."

I felt J.J.'s hand on my shoulder. "It's going to be okay, Spence. We're gonna get this guy for good."