The situation room hums with quiet focus.

Screens line the far wall displaying maps, timelines, and surveillance stills from the case we’ve been working all week. Agents sit around the long table while Garcia feeds new information into the system from her laptop.

Hotch stands at the head of the table reviewing a report.

“We’re dealing with an organized network,” he says. “Financial transfers show at least three connected shell operations—”

My phone vibrates in my pocket.

I glance down at the screen.

Unknown HRT command line.

That’s unusual.

I excuse myself with a small gesture and answer.

“Reid.”

The voice on the other end is tight.

“Sir, it’s Lieutenant Carter.”

My posture straightens immediately.

“What’s going on?”

There’s noise behind him. Radios. Movement.

Then he says the one sentence I’m not expecting.

“They got her.”

For a moment I don’t understand what he means.

“…What?”

“They have Unit Chief Reid.”

The room around me fades slightly as my attention narrows.

“What happened.”

“We were running an overwatch operation about twenty minutes ago,” Carter says quickly. “The target from last week? The one she dropped during the warehouse raid?”

“Yes.”

“He was connected to a larger organization.”

I feel my grip tighten around the phone.

“They were waiting for us.”

Hotch has stopped talking now.

Everyone at the table is looking at me.

Carter keeps going.

“She was in position. Full ghillie suit. Rooftop overwatch.”

My voice is very quiet.

“And then?”

“They came up behind her.”

A pause.

“Six men.”

I close my eyes briefly.

“She still dropped two of them before they got control of her.”

The room is completely silent now.

“They had gas,” Carter says. “Some kind of aerosol.”

Hotch takes a step closer.

“It took minutes to work,” Carter continues. “Even after they restrained her.”

His voice lowers slightly.

“Sir… I’ve never seen it take that many men to take down one person.”

A beat.

“We’re already tracking them.”

My voice feels distant even to me.

“You have visual?”

“Yes, sir.”

“We’ve got camera footage from the building across the street.”

Another pause.

“If you want to see it.”

I stare at the table for a moment.

Then I lower the phone slowly.

Hotch watches me.

“Reid.”

I swallow once.

“They have my Wife.”

The words land heavily in the room.

Morgan stands up immediately.

“…What?”

I shake my head slightly, already moving toward the screen wall.

“That man from last week,” I say. “The one she dropped.”

My voice steadies as the analysis takes over.

“He wasn’t acting alone.”

Garcia’s fingers are already flying across the keyboard.

“Send the footage,” she says into her headset.

Hotch’s voice cuts through the room.

“Everyone focus.”

But my mind is already moving.

Calculating.

Mapping.

“They ambushed her during overwatch,” I say. “Which means they’ve been studying her operational patterns.”

The screens flicker as the video feed begins loading.

I look at the team.

Then I say the one thing that matters now.

“We’re changing priorities.”

Hotch studies my face.

“Reid—”

“They have my wife,” I say again.

The footage stutters onto the screen—grainy rooftop surveillance.

A ghillie-suited figure lies perfectly still against the gravel, rifle angled toward the street below. Then shadows move behind her. Six men. One reaches first and she reacts instantly—two sharp muzzle flashes, two attackers down before the others close in.

Even restrained she fights, twisting hard enough that the camera jolts with the motion. Someone deploys gas. It takes seconds… then more seconds. Far longer than expected.

My stomach drops. They have her. They have my wife. My mind races ahead—

"She isn’t just the HRT Commander. She’s a Marine Raider. If they know that… what are they planning to do with her?"

My voice drops.

“And I don’t know what they’re going to do to her.”

The room goes very still.

Hotch nods once.

“Then we find them.”

Morgan cracks his knuckles.

“Fast.”

I take a deep breath

“They committed a very serious tactical error.”