Make Me Smile

It’s been two days since we got back to Quantico. The team hasn’t gotten any new cases, but we were buried from head to toe with paperwork. I was only halfway through the stack of files that were set on my desk, and I knew once I would finish there would be more to go. I set away the file I was currently going through and leaned back in my chair stretching. My eyes wandered around the bullpen office scanning my surroundings. It was only Emily, Derek and me. Both of them had big stacks of files covering their desks, just like mine. It was obvious that the task was boring them, including myself. But seriously who wouldn’t be bored reading file after file and then writing a report on it. I assumed that Gideon was also working on some files in his offices, whilst Jennifer went through possible upcoming cases. I looked to my left.

Spencer’s desk was the only file-free space in the bullpen. However he himself wasn’t here, including Hotch. Spencer was at the Firearms Training Facility being coached shooting by Hotch for his qualification test that he had to take sometime today, so he could keep his gun. According from what Derek has told me, Spencer has barely passed his last qualification test. I was surprised to hear that. Then I assumed that the whole team was excellent with using guns. Guess not. Those thoughts made me wonder how I was going to do on the test. Was going to pass or fail? Hotch has already arranged classes for me, seeing that I had little experience with guns. I hope I won’t disappoint Hotch. And with that thought I went back to the stack of files.

Four hours and 8 cups of coffee later I was finally done. Surprisingly I didn’t get any more files to go through and I was thankful for that. Gideon was walking to his office reading through a file as Emily walked in.

“Reid failed his qualification test,” she informed the team. Well the ones who were present at least.

“He can retake it in two weeks,” said Gideon without much interest and continued to his office.

“Yeah, but he is going to be embarrassed about it. So let’s not mention it,” suggested Emily, giving a stern look towards Derek. Everyone nodded in agreement. Shortly after we done so Reid walked through the doors looking somewhat frustrated. Just as he has sat down in his chair next to me Derek stood up taking something, which I couldn’t see, with him in the process.

“Hey.” He approached where Reid and I were sitting.

“We’re all here for you,” he said, to which Reid just sighed and looked down.

“I’m serious. If you ever need anything,” he continued as he put a whistle around Reid’s neck, “just blow in it.” He blew into the whistle and walked away laughing. I rolled my eyes at Derek. He could be such a dick at times.
Spencer quickly ripped the ‘rape whistle’ from his neck and threw it on his desk. It was easy to tell that he was annoyed.

“Hey Spence, just ignore him,” I told him as I put my hand on his forearm in hope that the gesture would calm him down. And it did. He took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair.

“There was a shooting in Franklin Public Park in Des Plaines, Illinois. Three people were shot yesterday.” J.j gave out everyone a file.

“This is the third shooting in two weeks. All shootings were from a distance,” she continued.

“A sniper?” wondered Agent Prentiss.

“We don’t use that word,” stated Gideon after he took a sip from his coffee.

“Why not?”

“The public doesn’t have much faith in the FBI catching the shooters,” J.j began to explain.

“Besides snipers are professional marksmen. These guys aren’t snipers,” I cut in as I studied the file.

“So what do we call them?”

“L.D.S.K.” Hotch turned the page, reading though the file as well. Emily’s face twisted in confusion, so Spencer went to explain what the letters stand for.

“Long distance serial killers.”

“So how many have we caught using a profile?” questioned Emily furthermore.

“None,” stated Gideon. I’m sure Emily’s face expression mirrored mine exactly. Shock. The FBI hasn’t been able to catch any shooters using a profile. No wonder that the public didn’t have faith in us. As we entered the conference area to discuss the details of the case, I pushed the thoughts aside.

We were on the jet. I was seated next to the window with Spencer on my left. The vanilla folder was in front of me on the table, which pictured of the victims scattered on top with it. All were shot in the abdomen and luckily all of them survived. However, there were no witnesses and no evidence.

“L.D.S.K’s are so rare that we haven’t been able to build a standard profile,” began Hotch.

“But here’s what we do know. They are always male, have law enforcement or military experience, and they always contact the news or the media.”

“To take credit or relive the experience?” I asked. I was feeling clueless that I have never before come across such a case. So I really hoped that I wasn’t going to be dead weight to the team.

“Both,” took over Gideon, “all serial killers tend to relive the ecstasy they get from their killings. Some use souvenirs taken from the victims, others return to the dump side to interact with the body. Both require contact with the victims, something an L.D.S.K doesn’t have.”

“But the un-sub hasn’t contact the media yet.” I stated. I was getting frustrated, because this seemed like a complicated case. Especially since none of the long distance serial killers have been caught before.

“He will soon,” reassured me Hotch.

“Sometimes what the un-sub does reveals the profile, sometimes it’s what the un-sub doesn’t do,” continued Gideon. I was just about to say that our un-sub doesn’t kill his victims, but Spencer was quicker to speak.

“He doesn’t kill his victims.”

“Under kill is a unique signature.” Gideon was right. The fact that un-sub left his victims to survive must be indeed his signature. What other purpose would it have?

“Question is, does he shoot them in the stomach intentionally to wound them or, is he just aiming at the biggest part of the target?” After Hotch had said that, silence took over. We all tried to make sense of what the un-sub had in store for us. There must be a reason behind to why he doesn’t kill his victims, I thought. But what was the reason?

I didn’t get any new information from reading the file over and over again, so I decided to take example of my team and give it a rest for now. Something shifted next to me, snapping me out of my thoughts. I looked over to see Spencer getting more comfortable in his seat next to me. He was so quite after the discussion that I have forgotten that he was even next to me. I noted that he looked slightly sad. I guessed he was still upset because he had failed his qualification test.

I gently touched his arm to get his attention. The little action caught his by surprise causing him to jump a little in his seat. He looked over at me, and I could spot a light bush on his cheeks. This caused me to let out a giggle. He got embarrassed too easily. It was kind of cute.

“Sorry for scarring you there, Spence.” I turned myself so that my upper body was facing him.

“You alright?” I asked him.

“Yeah I’m fine, just tired.”

“Spence, I mean cause of the test.” He averted his eyes from me. I mentally slapped myself for bringing that up. He obviously didn’t want to talk about that, especially with someone he only knows for a week.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up.” I sighed, brushing a loose strand of my hair behind my ear.

“No it’s alright. I’m just tired of being the kid in everyone’s eyes. And Hotch is probably annoyed at me for blowing it. Especially, since he coached me.” I snapped my head in his direction, shocked that he actually said anything on the topic.

“Spencer, they don’t see you as a kid. Besides, I think it’s safe to say that if anyone is a kid then it’s me, seeing that I am the youngest one here. And I’m sure Hotch isn’t annoyed with you. He is just always grumpy.” I stuck out my tongue at him, earning a smile in return. It was quite a sight so see him smile. You would think that in such a job any trace of happiness would get erased. I let my eyes trace his face, landing on his eyes. They seemed warm and playful but I could see traces of sadness in them, which stuck with him every day. I hoped that maybe one day he would tell me what it is that bothers him. Derek’s voice snapped me out from my daze. I blushed hoping they I wasn’t starring at Spencer for too long.

“We are going to land in five,” he told us. I could see a glint of mischief in his eyes. He obviously had something planned again. I just glared at him waving him off. He just laughed and winked. Ugh! He can be so annoying sometimes, I thought. When we landed we split into two teams; Hotchner, Morgan, Reid and I were in one and Gideon, Prentiss and J.J were in the other team.

Once we arrived at the Franklin Park we were met by an Afro American woman, probably in her mid thirties. I assumed that was Detective Calvin. As Hotch addressed the woman, I found my assumptions to be correct. They shook hands.

“Detective Calvin, this is Agent Morgan, Agent Reid and Agent Hale.” She shook hands as our supervisor introduced us to her.

“Thanks for coming. Follow me,” she instructed in almost a bored tone. We followed her closer to the park side. She pointed to the three orange cones that were set on the grass in the park and explained to us that the cones represent the victims that were shot. Hotchner suggested that the un-sub had fired his gun approximately from the place we were currently standing at. It was far enough so no one would notice, but still close enough to hit the victims.

“He is wounding his victims intentionally, which would classify him as a sadistic killer,” I said.

“And that would help?” asked Detective Calvin. The way she asked the question had a hint of doubt in it. I guess she didn’t fully believe that the FBI would be able to catch this guy using the profile. Morgan went to explain further.

“Sadists have a need to engage with their victims, and a powerful scope may allow the shooter some intimacy while keeping his distance and to fully understand whether he is a sadist that we are going to spend some times in his shoes.”

It was certain to us that the un-sub must have come to the park before and chose the spot and calculated how the angles and wind direction and speed would have affected his shots. The handicap symbol occurred suspicious to us then it was freshly painted and too far from the entrance. The un-sub must have came here decided that this was his spot and painted it with the symbol so that no one was to occupy that spot. We assumed that he probably shot from a car. This would give him the advantage to flee the scene quickly.

“But if he is in a rush, then he doesn’t stay and watch his victims suffer.” I gave the area another look over.

“Which doesn’t make him a sadist,” stated Agent Reid.

“Then what would he be?” questioned Detective Calvin.

"A very smart, very resourceful, very paranoid sociopath," concluded Hotch. Hotchner decided it was best if we went back to the station and checked what the others have found out.

Back at the station Gideon filled us in that there is a possibility that the un-sub might be a cop, seeing that he targets his victims during the time the police shifts changes. And their shift information is not known outside the law enforcement.

“What are you suggesting Agent Hotchner, that one of my men is the un-sub?” She was close to shouting. It must have been a shock for her to hear that but the possibility that the un-sub is on the police force was still there.

“It fits. He would have had the knowledge and information.” The discussion went on like this for a while. There was also the possibility that the un-sub used to be on the military force. We were cut off by Morgan.

“Garcia said the bullet was a 223 caliber, and was fired from an M-4 rifle - like an M-16 but with a shorter barrel making a long distance shot that much more difficult.”

“The shooter is obviously very skillful if he was able to nail this. This would mean that he intentionally doesn’t kill his victims,” I finished for him. Hotch looked at me, surprised that I put two and two together. Morgan let us know that Garcia couldn’t come up with the geographic profile, because there wasn’t enough data. I frown as I realized that more people would have to suffer for us to catch that bastard.

“Alex, you okay? Alex?” My head snapped into the direction of the voice calling me. Reid stood in front of me looking worried.

“Spence, what’s wrong?” I asked.

“I think I should be asking you that. You didn’t answer after I have repeatedly called you.”

“Sorry, I was just thinking. It’s horrible that we still have barely anything to catch this guy. And more people would have to get hurt for us to gather information.” I looked down at my feet. It was only my second case and I felt like fleeing and going back to my practice. I hated the feeling of not being able to help people. And this case made me feel completely helpless.

“Trust me we all feel that way sometimes,” he tried to comfort me. I was confused for a moment. Did I speak out loud? I must have been really tired if I did.

“Thank you, Spence.” I gave him a quick hug. As I let go of him I noticed that he was blushing again.

“Guys there has been another shooting!” J.j ran through the room. Everyone got up in a rush and we hurried to the new crime scene.

Arrived at the crime scene I saw that the yellow tape was already put up and possible evidence object were marked. Blood was splattered on the table and the wall of the café building.

“Three victims, non fatal wounds,” spoke Emily.

“It’s been less than 48 hours after his last shooting,” I stated, somewhat shocked that he had struck so soon.

“The presence of the FBI will only escalate his desire to shoot again,” stated Gideon. He was looking from the spot where the couple was shot, searching for the area from where the un-sub might have shot this time. He looked back at me.

“It’s only going to get worse.”

“Then we need to give out a profile immediately.” J.j also noted that this was the second time that the un-sub has crossed jurisdiction. I looked back at the crime scene. The blood on the pavement was still wet, reminding all of us what happened here. I jump as I felt someone’s hand on my shoulder. Turning I saw that it belonged to Spencer. He once again had that worried look on his face.

“I’m fine,” I told him. He didn’t look assured but nodded and guided me back to the car.