Hotch's head jerked up as he heard a loud bang followed by a sharp shout that was quickly cut off. He looked around to see Emily pinning Chief Morris against the wall with her forearm pressed into his throat. Hotch sprinted into the room. "Prentiss! What the hell are you doing?!" He shouted. By this point Morris had turned an unnerving shade of red, he was clawing at Emily's arm but she didn't budge. After a moment she released him and he slumped down the wall slightly, gasping for breath.
"I'll have your badge for this, Prentiss." He spat.
"My badge? After what you did, you think you'll take my badge?! You son of a bitch!" Emily shouted before lunging at him again.
Hotch dragged Emily away from him, then helped Morris upright. He turned back to Emily. "Explain. Now."
"It's his fault!" She yelled. "All of it. JJ, Doyle. It's his fault!"
"How? How is it his fault? Prentiss, talk to me." Hotch said sternly, keeping his reeling emotions out of his voice.
"Hotch, he sent her, he sent JJ into the Ghost Traders! He's the reason they took her!"
"What makes you think that?" Hotch asked carefully.
"JJ told Morgan, or rather, tried to tell Morgan. She said it in Russian so he wouldn't have understood. But if he didn't understand, why would she lie?" Emily was breathing heavily, her voice shaking with fury.
Hotch whirled around to glare at Morris. "Is what she's saying true?" He demanded. Morris was looking considerably pale, but was slowly applying a 'that's classified information' expression to his face. Hotch was having none of it. "You'd better explain what the hell she's talking about or I swear to God I won't hold her back."
Morris's eyes flickered towards Prentiss, who looked like she wanted to rip his throat out right about now, and then the team, who had been drawn into the room by the commotion and were now stood glaring at him. "It's not what you think." He sighed. "Jareau was sent in to infiltrate a drug trafficking ring, the Fourth Street Vipers. It was a crime syndicate working out of Chicago. They were kidnapping middle class, blonde haired, blue eyed women to work as their drug mules."
"How did JJ even come to work with you?" Hotch cut in, confused; JJ had been forced to transfer to the State Department, not another branch of the FBI.
"It was a joint taskforce," Morris replied. "The FBI was more focused on the drug ring but it had terrorist ties, hence the State Department's involvement. I requested Jareau because she looked the part and could act the part." He dragged a hand through his hair. "We knew the Vipers were setting up a meet with an arms dealer. You've got to understand, these guys were already pretty ruthless but with the caliber of weapon they were looking to get their hands on, they would have been unstoppable. Jareau was sent in to gather intel on the trafficking operation and identify the arms dealer."
He looked up as if to say 'you know the rest' but they didn't, and Morris was still shifty, as if he was holding something back. Hotch narrowed his eyes.
"You didn't need to identify the arms dealer. You already knew who he was." Hotch said softly, the small flicker of guilt in Morris's eyes confirming his suspicions. "You knew it was Doyle."
Morris nodded in defeat. "Yes. We didn't have enough evidence to take down the Vipers, but we couldn't let them get their hands on those weapons. We knew that if Doyle were to recognize an undercover agent, he'd call off the deal and high tail it out of there. So we sent in Jareau." He paused for a moment before continuing quietly, "I'm sorry."
"You bastard." Emily hissed. Words could not even begin to describe the depth of her loathing for the man in front of her, apologizing as if doing so could change anything.
