Lockdown

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

08/07/2019. 01:08 hours. Underground Parking Complex, FBI Offices, Quantico, Virginia.

David sighed with frustration and pushed his cell phone into his jeans pocket. He had tried several times to contact Matt and Spencer to inform them that he and Emily had returned from San Quentin where they had been questioning the correctional officers, however, neither of them were answering his calls. He glanced at Emily as she approached with her go bag slung over her shoulder.

"Everything okay, Dave?" asked Emily.

"No. I've been trying to call Simmons and Reid several times, but no one's answering, nor has anyone returned my calls. I'm worried."

"If Reid was at the hospital again, Matt or the hospital staff would have called."

"Yeah. There's just something that's not sitting right. Call it a gut feeling or intuition."

"It's only fifteen minutes to your house from here, right?"

"Yeah."

"Then stop your babbling and get your ass in the car. We'll go and see if the famous David Rossi's gut still has it." Emily pointed a black key fob at a nearby SUV, the orange lights of the indicators flashing against the walls as the car unlocked. She threw her go bag on the back seat and clambered into the driver's side. David slumped into the passenger seat and grasped the handle above the door. He knew that Emily would floor the engine as soon as they were out of the underground parking complex to get to his mansion in record time.

08/07/2019. 01:11 hours. David Rossi's House, Virginia.

Spencer warily eyed Director Michaels as the older man circled him. His vision had blurred considerably since his spectacles had been removed and shattered. Matt had not moved from his slumped position on the floor. Spencer's limbs had long since gone numb from his bonds. The director was clearly hoping his silence would drive the genius mad, though it was having the opposite effect. Spencer let out a huff through his nose and rolled his eyes. Michaels caught on from the corner of his eye and grasped a handful of Spencer's curls, wrenching his head back. Spencer managed to suppress a groan of pain. Michaels leaned in close, his Scotch-tainted breath hot against Spencer's cheek.

"Am I boring you, Dr Reid?" Even without permission to speak with the tape over his mouth, Spencer did not want to dignify this man with a response. "You arrested my son, David. I had to watch them stick a needle in his vein because of you. So, I had to find a way to make you pay, and to do that, I had to take you away from your team. My boy, Lee, was desperate to get his hands on you. What better way to get you alone than have you do a custodial at the very prison he's the warden of? A few backhand payments, and the officers thought nothing of helping him in any way they could. His plan was spectacular. Have three inmates who you arrested rape you and then put you to your own death. Unfortunately, your team intervened and killed him. Now, both of my boys are dead, and it's because of you. So I'm going to end you once and for all. No one will think twice about a crazy man who attempted suicide once trying to kill himself again."

A low snarl sounded from deep within Spencer's throat, his eyes aflame with rage. It was clicking into place in his head. The pair had clearly planned this for some time. Director Michaels already knew about his severe PTSD and took the opportunity to execute their plan. Michaels released his hold on Spencer's hair and slid a pen knife out of his jacket pocket. He crouched down and rested the blade against one of the zip ties holding Spencer's ankles to the chair legs.

"Kick me if you dare, boy, and this knife will go straight in your throat. Understood?" Spencer nodded stiffly. Michaels quickly severed the zip ties around Spencer's ankles and straightened up. Spencer groaned at the sudden rush of circulation and sensation in his numb feet. He experimentally moved his feet. Michaels sawed through the rope binding him to the backrest of the chair. As the rope fell away, Michaels grabbed the back of the strait jacket at the nape of Spencer's neck and yanked him onto his feet. The heavy material pressed painfully into Spencer's throat.