Coffee & Pasta || S.R. [DISCONTINUED]

Eighteen

Spencer looked up as the orange haz-mat suit entered his blurring vision. His mind was still reeling over the idea that he may never seen his mom or Natalia again.

"Dr. Reid."

Spencer licked his lips, spurring some sort of something out of his frazzled mind. "You look nice."

Dr. Kimura paused, before smiling and chuckling at him. "I haven't been in this outfit for a while."

"How are... how are the patients doing?"

"Let's worry about you."

"I actually... I feel fine." Spencer said. Lie or not there were more important things.

"Okay, if you feel any pain, I could give you something." Linda offered, looking at him. 

"No, I... I'd rather not take any pain medication."

"We can at least make you feel more comfortable."

"I am comfortable, and I don't want to take any narcotics." Spencer snapped; even if he hadnt meant to.

Linda paused at his tone and nodded. "Okay. Tell me how I can help."

Spencer jumped for the chance to focus on something else, and moved toward the surroundings again. "I think the cure for this strain is in here somewhere."

"Well, shall I start here?" she asked, gesturing to the vials and contents within.

"Dr. Nickles is a former military scientist, which means he's most likely secretive and most likely a little paranoid. He would have protected the cure and probably would have hidden it from his partners. So look for something innocuous, something you would not suspect."

"All right."

Spencer moved around a few moments, before his phone rang. He answered it, beginning to cough. "Hello."

"How's it going in there, kid?" Morgan asked. 

"I uh, I've seen better days."

"Well, you got me and Garcia."

"Hey, Reid." Garcia greeted quietly, her smile faltering as Spencer began to cough.

"Reid, stick with me." Morgan tried. Once Reid had settled a bit he continued. "Listen, Prentiss and Rossi don't think the partner was a coworker. Can you tell us anything else about him?"

"I tol...I've already been through everything."

"Come on, now, kid, I know you're not thinking straight, but the Reid I know wouldn't stop looking."

"All right, all right." he agreed, moving back toward the partners desk. "I see a, uh, a framed photograph of Dr. Nickles teaching. I see a...I see a binder with syllabi. Course assignments..going all the way back to the 1970s."

"All right. So he kept a scrapbook of himself as a professor. That tells us that he values himself as an educator."

"A teacher." Spencer mumbled, clearing his throat again as he jogged to another spot in the room. "I saw something earlier. I didn't...I didn't make a connection to it or to the partner, but he has a study on anthrax. He has an annotated bibliography, table of contents. It's formatted like a thesis and has writing in the margins, in red ink, like the way a teacher grades a paper. Now, Nickles wouldn't have let just anyone in here, but he may have opened his lab for educational purposes, as a teacher."

"So the partner must have appealed to him as a student. Nickles is helping him with his thesis."

"I-I can look up local Ph.D students." Garcia tossed in, already beginning to.

"Yeah, check the sciences. Biochemistry, microbiology.."

"Uh...Cross-checking with names of former employees or customers with grievances at the bookstore. Nothing, my doves."

"Listen to this. "This country is woefully unprepared. Every household should have a 2-month supply of Cipro. Hospitals are in need of bio-safety level 4 decon wings." 

"That's verbatim to what we heard from Nickles. The partner's adopted Nickles' views as his own."

"The chapters are on setting up triage and mobile emergency rooms. I don't think this paper was written by a science student. It's about city preparedness and response.

"So, Garcia, check with students in the social studies...public policy, urban planning?"

"Hot to trot. There's a Chad Brown, School of Public Policy at U of M. Matches a Chad Brown, former employee at the book front."

"That's gotta be him." 

"Totally. He's been in the doctoral program on and off for 5 years. Nix on a steady job. Was slapped with a restraining order from his former girlfriend and has been arrested and released twice at protest rallies in DC. I'll tell Hotch."

"Kid, you did real good. Now get the hell out of there."

"Bye." Spencer hung up, clearing his throat as he stood up again. 

"Dr. Reid. You said the cure would be hidden somewhere we wouldn't suspect. What about Nicklels' inhaler?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Okay. Yeah, they're hosing him down now. All right." Morgan hung up, looking to Spencer. "They're checking out Brown's house."

"Go help Hotch."

"Hotch has plenty of people helping him."

"He needs you more than I do."

"Reid, I'm gonna see you off to the hospital."

"I'm about to get naked so they can scrub me down. Is that something you really want to see?" 

Morgan paused, looking over him. For a moment, he thought about cracking a joke about Natalia being the one who should see that...but he thought against it. "I'll check on you later. Take good care of him, please."

Linda nodded to Morgan as he left, and then handed off a baggie. "Get this to the lab." she ordered, before turning back to Spencer. "I hope you're right about this."

"So do I."

"Dr. Reid, did you cut yourself?"

Spencer paused, remembering the bush that had nicked him on the way inside...her turned to look at Dr. Kimura, feeling that fear bubble in his chest again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"How are you feeling, Dr. Reid?"

"My throat's a little dry. But other than that, I feel...flee...feel fin. I feel... I fleel fin. I..."

"Dr. Reid, Okay.." Linda turned, looking toward the front of the vehicle. "Driver, faster." She frowned as Reid began coughing again, blood running on his chin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Garcia stood in the bullpen, watching screen been and lines appear. She had seen Natalia outside, curled up and asleep on the bench. She hated that she couldnt tell her Reid was in trouble; so instead she hid in here. Hearing someone approach, she turned. "Derek...Dr. Kimura called. Reid's in trouble.."

"What do you mean?"

"He got way sicker on the way to the hospital. He's in respiratory distress."

Aaron took a breath and interrupted, trying to reassure them. "Listen, he's with the people who can help him the most. I need everybody's head here right now."

"Okay, so, uh, we spoke to Brown's sister." Jj started, looking up at her colleagues. "They've been estranged for years."

"Did she say anything about the park or the bookstore?" Morgan asked.

"Quiet Hills Park was where he proposed to a girl. She said no. The bookstore's where he worked to put himself through college. I guess he's bitter about not being promoted."

"So, both locations represent rejection to him."

"So, what's our next move?"

"Prentiss and Rossi found maps of transit systems at his house."

"Here we go." Garcia breathed, starting to work. This she could handle.

General Lee moved closer, joining them as he spoke. "Dr. Nickles wrote a classified study commissioned by the US Senate. It simulated a mock anthrax attack on the DC train systems. Now, he emphasized the main line...the red line...as most vulnerable to an attack. Forceful tunnel winds, biggest crowds, highest mortality risk. Now, I deployed teams to every stop on the red line."

"I don't think he's targeting the red line." Aaron rejected.

"But you said he adopted all of Nickles' ideas. Wouldn't he want to prove this theory?"

"We also said that he chooses locations that are personal to him, ones that represent rejection. What is the one place that's rejected him over and over again?"

"Fort Detrick." Morgan answered.

"It'd be impossible for him to get in."

"He wouldn't have to attack the fort. He could go after the people that work there or on their commute." Morgan explained.

"The closest station to the Marc train is Frederick." Jj observed.

Aaron looked at her, nodding. "Get on the line to Maryland Transit."

"But the study said the red line." Lee objected.

"The profile says he's going to Frederick. That's where I'm going, and I could really use your help."