Aaron Hotchner looked at the young woman curled up sleeping next to him. He had fornicated with her the required three times during the past few hours. Maybe she was pregnant, maybe she wasn't. He knew he would probably never find out. All he did know was that he had been visited by her last night and that he would be visited by her again tomorrow night, each time bringing him his dinner with, he had no doubt, a special additive to enhance his performance. And, each time she visited, he was expected to repeat his performance of a minimum of three times. After that third visit, who knew? That decision was out of his hands.

Now, as she slept, he noticed how very young she looked, even though he had been assured that she was at least 21 and most likely almost 22. That was one of the guidelines as they had been explained to him. He shook his head as if to clear it. The Rules – That is how he thought of the restrictions which now governed his existence, restricting him to this cell. He could smell the fresh tropical air that wafted in through the small windows high in the cinder block wall and, judging from the way the light came through, he could tell that the room faced east. Other than that, there was no indication of where he was. As he readjusted the white cotton mask he was required to wear, he thought back over the past months (or was it years now?) and remembered quite vividly how he had ended up here.

It was in the early evening. The team – His team- Had closed a case in the north Miami-Dade County area of Florida and then had immediately flown back home to Quantico. He was eagerly looking forward to seeing his son, Jack, as he hurried from the jet and across the tarmac to his car. He had told his team to all go straight home and not to worry about completing the required paperwork until tomorrow morning. He smiled to himself as he though about how surprised Jack was going to be to see him coming home early for a change.

He started his car, pulled out of the parking lot, and began driving down the road leading to the expressway. He had only gone about a mile when a white panel truck unexpectedly pulled out in front of him and came to a sudden stop. Unable to stop his vehicle in time, Hotch hit the side of the truck.

"What the heck?" he had exclaimed as he climbed out of his car and began walking towards the panel truck. He was focused on the other driver, who had his window open and was leaning out of it, and he didn't notice that two other men had climbed out of the passenger side of the vehicle.

"Excuse me, what the heck do you think you are doing?" he asked, trying to hold his temper. "Why did you stop here in the middle of the road?"

"So we could do this, Agent Hotchner," were the last words he heard as he felt a stinging sensation on the side of his neck.


The next thing he remembered, he was tied up and lying on the floor of a room which felt like it was moving – either a train or maybe a boat he thought. When he turned his head to look around, he saw a young woman, also unconscious and restrained, lying a short distance from him. He vaguely thought he could hear several children crying and he definitely could overhear several men talking.

"You must be crazy," the first voice said. "Grabbing an FBI agent. Everybody is going to be looking for him."

"As far away as we are, I doubt if they are going to find him," a second voice replied. "They haven't a clue as to where to start looking. Besides, our instructions were to get a healthy male, and you can't get any healthier than him. And, he has already fathered one child."

Hotch shifted slightly, trying to move his arms into a more comfortable position.

"He's waking up," the first voice said.

"Best give him another shot," the second voice suggested. "We need to keep him quiet for at least another couple of hours."

Hotch felt a needle prick his arm, and then he quickly fell back asleep.

The next time he regained consciousness, he realized he was being hoisted onto someone's shoulder and carried into a building where he was dumped none too gently onto a hard cot. He wondered whether the woman he had seen was being moved in here too.

"We just leave him here?" a new voice asked.

"We tie him down first," another new voice replied. "Apparently this one is some sort of cop and needs extra restraints."

"As long as he is down here, we may as well take our samples," the second voice continued. "I have no doubt it will be easier to do it now while he is unconscious."

Hotch felt several needles go into his arm and then he felt a hand caressing his genitals.

"This is not my favorite part," the first voice commented.

"The boss says we need to check for diseases," was the reply. "And, also to make sure everything else is intact."

"There must have been something in one of those needles," Hotch thought as he again fell asleep.