Make It out Alive

The team and I were at the airstrip, and Rossi, Derek and Hotch had me cornered. "Are you sure you can take this?" Hotch questioned.

I rolled my eyes. "Hotch, seriously. I've been ready for this for weeks."

"Polly, are you sure your lung can take this?" Morgan asked.

"My lung is fine. Three doctors cleared me for travel. Everything is fine," I sighed.

Rossi looked me over. "Mentally?"

"As normal as it can be with my past and our job," I chirped.

The three exchanged glances and turned to Spencer. "Do you think she's okay for travel?"

"Spencer," I started, glaring at Hotch, Rossi and Morgan.

"She'll be fine," Reid assured them.

I flashed a grateful smile and got on the plane, followed by Rossi, Reid, Morgan and Hotch.

JJ had already set out the case files. "Five victims arranged like this, and fast, we've got to be working with multiple UnSubs," Derek commented.

"To put them outside the police station? One of them has knowledge of law enforcement as well. Someone who knows that Orlando is under-manned and at best have two officers inside at the same time," I remarked, going through the case file. Five women, tall, blonde and tan, with star shaped wounds, all eagle spread face-down, nude.

"These guys show no remorse, nude, face-down," Rossi commented.

"These star-shaped wounds, their pretty unique," I mentioned. "But there's only three, and they can't be the cause of death. They're also in the exact same place on each body."

"Possible signature?" Reid asked.

"Must be," I said with a shrug. "I'd like to take a look at the bodies."

Hotch nodded. "Reid, I want you to start working on the geographic profile. JJ, find out everything about these people. Rossi, Derek, I want you to go to where these women were last seen alive. I'm going to look around the crime scene."

I was so glad to be back in the field. I wasn't made for normal life, not one bit.

Spencer, Derek and I passed time on the flight playing poker, which I impressed them with my skills at. Even Mr. Las Vegas was having a hard time keeping up.

Derek lowered his voice. "So, you kids being safe?"

Spencer turned a several shades of pink, and I rolled my eyes. "Derek, remember how I hadn't decided my prize?"

"For karaoke, yeah."

"My prize is for you to get the hell out of our sex lives," I said, feeling self-satisfied.

"Oh, little girl, you're no fun at all," Derek said, resigned. "Just wait until boy-genius comes asking for advice, that's free invite."

"Who says he needs any advice?" I cackled.

Spencer was as red as Hotch's tie, and I leaned across the table to give him a quick peck before glancing at his cards and grinning.

"Polly, I saw that," Dave called.

"Because you taught me to play poker, old man!" I teased.

"I didn't teach you to cheat!" He retorted.

"Bull, Rossi, bull," I said, shaking my head. "You taught me the reflection in the glasses trick, the casual yawn, you don't have any aces up your sleeve that I don't have."

"Was that a challenge, Bryson?"

"You bet, Rossi," I responded with a grin.

"Texas Hold 'Em?"

"I'd be offended if you wanted to go easy on me," I answered with a smirk. "Spence, deal for us?"

*****

"You're joking," I said into my cell.

"If only," Rossi answered.

"I'll look into it," I assured him, snapping my phone shut and sprinting down to the morgue.

I got the coroner to look at the contents of the victims' stomachs, and when he pulled out a knife blade, I yelled "Son of a bitch!"

I dialed Hotch's number quickly, and when he answered, I connected with Spencer, Derek, and Rossi. "This bastard forces them to swallow knife blades."

"Examine the blades," Hotch instructed.

"All over it," I confirmed. "Stay safe you guys. This one's something we've never seen."

The call ended and I started looking at the blades. A few simple tests proved that they were all coated in a sort of poison. There was another startling realization.
"Oh my God."

The coroner, Maxine, came over. "What is it?"

"He coated the blade in poison from an exceedingly rare frog. These women had excruciating deaths."

I dialed Hotch's number. "We've got our profile."