The Intelligence Control and Analysis Program

Chapter 11

Rossi was an entertainer. Maybe it was Italian blood, maybe it was all the times he spent helping his mom prepare family get-togethers and special occasions, or maybe he just really liked cooking. But, for whatever reason, Rossi was and always would be an entertainer.

That said, when the BAU team arrived at his mansion, Rossi was quick to serve drinks and throw together some appetizers, never mind the fact that it was two in the morning and they had just returned from a case.

"Okay." Hotch leaned back in his chair and sipped his hot tea. "Spencer, explain ICAP to us. Nothing is forbidden, assume we know nothing, and start from the beginning. Garcia, if you have any input, I would appreciate hearing it."

Garcia gave a small nod, sitting next to Spencer on the couch, hovering by his right shoulder like a guardian angel.

Spencer nodded, too, and took a look around the room. He started at Morgan, who was directly to the left, and moved his eyes clockwise across Emily, Hotch, JJ, Rossi, and Garcia. His eyes darted back down and fixated on the floor—as they had for the majority of the time since the incident in the bullpen—his face swollen and red from the excessive crying.

"Um... ICAP is an organization that uses geniuses for jobs. Most of the time, you work with different subdivisions of the FBI, but you can be loaned out to other divisions, too. CIA, NCIS, NSA..." Spencer shrugged and rolled his hand slightly, indicating the list went on. "Sometimes, you, uh... do other things... um..." He pulled his feet up onto the couch and wrapped his arms around his knees. "Sorry. This is hard."

"It's alright, Pretty Boy." Morgan nudged Spencer's shoulder. "Take your time."

Spencer nodded weakly and leaned into Morgan's touch, still tense. "Um... you do different jobs... special jobs... that maybe aren't so good... and it gets you things. Um... I..." He took a deep breath, blinking rapidly and rubbing his forehead. "I, um, I invented a new strain of anthrax... and the antidote to go with it... back in '99..."

Rossi concealed any expression of surprise he may have had in his mug.

"Um, then, about five years ago... I created a kind of EMP that, once used, releases a corrosive acid that completely destroys the device." Spencer shifted in his seat, pushing himself back into the cushions with a twisted expression Rossi suspected represented something like helpless frustration.

"Were either of those ever tested on a civilian population?" Emily asked softly, pulling her feet onto her chair. "Or don't you know?"

Spencer bit his lip and scratched at his thigh. "I... I know the anthrax was. I don't know where or when... but I got confirmation a few months after I finished it that it worked, and I got—I got my book."

Rossi swore inwardly, barely able to keep from grumbling to himself. Kid invents a new biochemical weapon and gets paid with a book. Geeze. But he sipped his coffee and said nothing.

"They probably used a third world country of some kind," Garcia offered, putting a hand on Spencer's shoulder but addressing Hotch. "They usually picked somewhere remote, where the local government wouldn't be able to do anything if they figured out who attacked them. Not that anyone ever did. At least, not as far as I know."

Spencer nodded in agreement and swallowed hard. "Um, the EMP could be tested on devices in a closed lab, so that—that was never used on people, to my knowledge."

JJ clicked her pen a few times and hummed, scratching down some notes on a tablet. "If we can figure out when the anthrax was tested, we might be able to connect it to ICAP through financial records cross-referenced with a timeline of the epidemic."

Spencer looked almost hopeful at that. "You think you'll be able to get financial records?"

JJ looked at Spencer, surprised, and then she looked at Garcia. "Well, can you?"