One shots and Mini Stories | Emily Prentiss

Caught

2004. 

Emily Prentiss. No. Lauren Reynolds, sat across 2 FBI Agents. Agents Rossi and Morgan. They had picked her up from outside her art studio. Which obviously was a cover, and she had a hunch that they suspected. She had been sitting in this room for almost 72 hours, not that there was a clock, but she had a great talent for knowing how much time had passed.

"What do you know about the recent murders in the Boston area?" The African one asked. 

"I don't understand?" She said with the blank expression she had mastered. Of course she understood. Over the last 3 months, 11 men have been found dead. 2 of them were some of her gun runner associates, the other 3 were henchmen of her rival gun runner, she'd killed 2 of them herself. 

The other one, the Italian one, placed photos of their bodies infront of me.  "Miss. Reynolds These are the 5 men who died, now were asking you, do you know anything about this?"

"You think I did this?" She exclaimed in her heavy fake accent that was too good for them to realise that it was fake, "No I don't, I'm an artist a painter. I'm sure you can run a back ground check"

That was the cover Clyde came up with. Just about a year ago, Lauren Reynolds and Ian Doyle were arested in thier Tuscan Villa.

Now they could have just killed of the alias, but they might need it again. And that's how she ended up here.

4 months ago, When Ian Doyle was killed of in prison, the crime rates in Boston went up. Their was no longer a major power to keep them in check. So Lauren Reynolds, 'supposedly' escaped out of prison in Ireland, erased her record and made her way to America. She opened up a 'Art Shop' as a cover. And apparently it was so good that the FBI couldn't see through it. 

"You see Ms. Reynolds, we did a background check on you and our technical analyst found nothing, your clean. No finger prints, no trace of the money" The african one threw the file on the table, "That means your hiding something, and I am going to find out" he yelled. 

He was trying to get a reaction out of her. Hoping that she would go off and incriminate herself. But Lauren was smarter than that. He had slipped up. Technical Analyst. She could use that. 

"These men didn't deserve to die. We have linked 7 of them to you and your business. So it would benefit you to tell us the truth, unless you want to go to jail" The Italian one said. 

That was his first lie. She could see it in his eyes, they didn't have enough information to convict her, they were hoping that she would spill. 

"Ms. Reynolds we have an informant that says that you are a gunrunner not an artist, he has also informed us of your international works, in particular in Ireland, what happens when we look you up in the Interpol Data Base?" Lied the African man. 

Fayhey it had to be. But he had slipped up. These FBI agents were not trained well. Their tells stood out, they couldn't control their emotions. Lauren kept staring him in the face. When she was sure her 72 hours were up she turned to the older man. 

"I believe my 72 hours are up, and you don't actually have any evidence on me, so I think I'll be going now" She said with a smile, and her french accent. 

The Italian man unlocked her cuffs and lead her out. 

"I think its her" Morgan says as the team reconvenes

"We don't have any evidence" Says Reid

"I agree, I don't think its her" Rossi says, " But there was something about she was to calm"

"Same. She seems familiar to me" says Hotch. 

"How so?" Asks JJ

"I don''t know" Says Hotch. 

Lauren had set up a trade in warehouse on the pier, with the people who were the last names she needed. She had to give Clyde a 30 minute notice. 

After the Doyle case the JTF-12 had been disbanded after Jeremy was found of selling information. Tsia had returned back to France. Emily, had transferred from CIA to Interpol and her and Clyde worked together. When crime grew in Boston, the Field office requested Interpol for help. So they sent Emily undercover. She had no idea that they had also requested the BAU for help. 

Emily sort-of felt bad for them. Once she had the names she was going to go of the field office anyways. So way didn't she just kill 2 birds with one stone. Before she left for the trade, she sent a notification to Clyde, and sent her encrypted files to the FBI BAU analyst Penelope Garcia. By the time she would have hacked into them, found the location and got there Clyde would already be there. 

Penelope Garcia was trying to find information on a Lauren Reynolds, their mystery queen. She was squeaky clean. But then, document popped up on the screen. Penelope didn't even do anything. The foremost document had an address, she immediately called Hotch. 

Lauren was now in the middle of the warehouse, surrounded by 3 of her guys and 4 of her associate. Diamonds for the guns. 

Suddenly all the doors burst open. "FBI! FBI! FBI!" Shit, Clyde was late. 

Lauren raised her hand and dropped the gun in her hands. The men around her were cuffed. The African guy, the same one who had interrogated her, harshly brought her hands down and cuffed them. As he escorted her outside, Clyde was standing by the car he was going to put her in. 

They stopped. The African guy was going to talk but Emily beat him. 

"Your late" dropping her french accent. 

"Sorry Love, got stuck in traffic" he said smirking, in a typical Brit like fashion. He turned the FBI agents behind me, and held up his badge, "INTERPOL, Please unhand my agent"

Hotchner moved closer to him, and nodded to the guy behind me. When he let go, I spun around and passed him the cuffs I had picked with a hair pin. 

"Tell Penelope, Your welcome, Agent Morgan" she turned away, "Agent Hotchner" Emily nodded towards Hotch and walked away. 

And thats when it hit him. He had done security clearances for Ambassador Prentiss, her mother 17 years ago. She'd changed, but now he could see it. Her name. Emily Prentiss.