The Element of Surprise

Identity - Part 2

We've been in the air for a couple of hour now - or could it be minutes? I'm never sure when it comes to actual travelling. Up here, time is a concept, or at least until we touch down and step off the jet. I sit criss-cross on the single-seater armchair near a window. My body's facing the team, who sits around the table while going through the case files. On my right, only a console table separates me from Agent Rossi. Every now and then, I would tear my eyes of the case file in my lap to glance at him, trying to figure out how I'm supposed to 'get him to open up' as Hotch called it.

I haven't told anyone on the team of the favour our boss asked of me. The way he practically whispered it to me says enough; this is between me and him and I intend to keep it that way. But I'd lie if I say I wasn't dying to tell someone, preferably JJ or Emily. One of them is bound to know how approach this matter - my money's on JJ, though. With her aptitude for talking to people and getting them to talk to her, I'm confused as to why Hotch didn't ask her to do it. But an order is an order, although that doesn't make it easier though.

Tearing my eyes off the file for a second, I notice Spencer drawing lines and shapes on a map of Montana, using different kinds of colors for each line he adds. He's leaned so far over, his nose nearly touches the map.

"You know, I could have gotten you a coloring book at the airport," Emily comments when she, too, set her sight on the map.

"I'm creating a topographical map, weighing down and geo-coding all key locations looking for algorithms," he explains.

"Yeah," Prentiss nods, "That's exactly what I thought you were doing."

It doesn't slip my notice that even Rossi is staring at the map with furrowed brows. That makes two of us.

"It's called a jeopardy surface," Hotch appears from the kitchen area with a mug of... tea? in his hand. Another thing to add to the list; our Unit Chief likes tea. "It's a way of narrowing down where the unsub could reside."

"And by default, where he may be stashing Angela Miller," Spence adds while tracing another line.

Fortunately, Derek changes the topic to something less brain-wrecking, "It says in the fire the guy had a fully loaded gun, so we know he had options. Why the grenade?" His eyes lock on me, "You've been awfully quiet, wonder girl. Anything to add?"

"I..." stopping mid-sentence, my eyes travel to Rossi. He's staring at the file again, keeping quiet as usual. Alright, time to grab the bull by the horns and see where it tosses me. "I'm still trying to wrap my head around it. What about you, Rossi?" That causes him to look up from the file and right at me. "What do you think?"

I'm not even sure he heard Derek's question. Yet he proves that he's able to multitask when he answers my question straightforwardly, "He wants to be remembered. And he wanted to be sure to take as many cops with him as possible." He looks from me to Morgan in silent challenge, "He knows he's out gunned, so he waits, times it to the last second. Then, boom! There are some very committed people in those parts," he says and points at the map.

"Who love their fire power," Hotch mutters almost inaudibly.

"Almost as much as they hate us," Rossi hints.

"Militia," Derek puts two and two together.

"And they're heavily armed," Spence says and straightens up from the map.

"Yeah, but hand grenades?" Emily points out credulously.

"It's not uncommon for militia members to have military experience," Spencer enlightens us with his knowledge of military forces, "Oftentimes, they resent the structure and they get discharged and they form their own paramilitary governments."