[CM] THE CASE

Wherever you go, you can't escape yourself. — Hemingway

Reid walks into the office while chatting with a woman.The woman was wearing simple clothes, and her shoulder-length brown hair was permed beautifully, capable and refreshing.

Morgan glanced at it inadvertently, and his eyes instantly became joyful: "Hi, welcome back, Elle!"

Elle—the brown-haired woman smiled, her red lips curled up: "Hi, Morgan, long time no see."

"Yeah, why did you come back so soon?"

"Four months, it's been four months. I don't feel fast at all," Greenaway complained. "I'm bored enough to watch soap operas."

Morgan laughed.

"Hotch said to switch Elle and Griffith and let Elle and I go to the anti-child crime unit with me," Reid said happily. "He asked Griffith to come with you—by the way did you see Griffith? Hotch wanted me to let him know of."

"He went to the bathroom." Morgan pointed in the direction of the bathroom, "I'll be back in a while."

"I was just about to ask," Greenaway interrupted their conversation, "Who is Griffith? Are you going out with us?"

"Well, Foster Griffith, a new team member, came last week. You'll see him in a while." Morgan tilted his head and gestured to the desk opposite him, "By the way, that kid looks good."

Greenaway glanced at the desk across from Morgan.

The desktop is clean and tidy, the files are sorted and arranged, there are no extra decorations, except for work-related things.

For a moment, countless thoughts ran through Greenaway's mind.But she has always been able to cover up so perfectly that the two colleagues around her didn't notice anything wrong with her at all.

"Wow, hearing you say that, I'm looking forward to meeting him."

Greenaway said with a smile.

Water was rushing from the faucet, and his hands were motionless in the water.The mirror reflected white walls, simple compartments and doors, and a dark-haired man with a pale face.

He looks 27 or [-] years old, his facial features are not as three-dimensional and profound as that of Westerners, his skin is darker than that of Caucasians, but whiter than that of people of yellow races.The face is thin, the thin lips are almost colorless, and the black eyes seem to be covered with a thick layer of frost, and nothing can be seen clearly.

He didn't know how long he washed his hands, his fingers slightly closed, as if he wanted to grab a handful of water and wash his face, but he gave up in the end.He turned off the faucet, covered his eyes with wet hands, and the water dripped down his cheeks, like tears.

Hallucinations, hallucinations again.

Griffith thought with a wry smile.

He didn't know when this torture would end.

"Griffith?"

Griffith took his hand away, squinted his eyes for a while to adjust to the slightly harsh light, and then took a tissue to wipe off the water on his face: "Huh?"

Gideon stood in the doorway watching him.

Griffith throws the tissue in the trash: "What's up?"

"Hotch asked you to come with us, Elle is back, Hotch asked Reid to take her."

"Elle?" Griffith was taken aback. "Elle Greenaway? But didn't Hotch say she wouldn't be back until next week?"

"But she's back, and Hotch won't let her go on the field, so you switch. Pack up and go, we should go to the airport."

"My things are still in the office, I can leave after I get them."

Gideon nodded. "By the way, Griffith."

Griffith looked at him.

"If you have a question, I hope you can talk to us, after all, we are a team. For a team to work better, we have to understand each other."

Griffith's eyes wandered.He pulled another tissue to wipe his hands.

Gideon wasn't exactly stern, he was just serious.Sometimes his sensibility is scary, but that's a side effect of his excellence.He is certainly an excellent profiler.

So there are some things, even if he doesn't know the truth, he can still find something strange. Griffith's anomalies were so obvious, it wasn't always possible to use the excuse of not having a good rest every time.

Gideon didn't speak anymore, he was waiting for Griffith's confession.

It's a good atmosphere for a conversation, even though it's the FBI's men's bathroom, and people keep walking by the door.

But Griffith just gave a grateful smile. "Thanks for the concern. I will, if I'm in trouble." He so naturally refused to reveal the secret, throwing the second tissue in the trash.Then he rolled down the rolled-up shirt sleeves: "I'm ready to go?"

"Ah."

Griffith followed Gideon half a step behind, quietly put his hands behind his back, and continued to fiddle with his bracelet.

At the same time, Jareau, who was on standby, hid in the "genius office" and had a face-to-face with the monitors all over the room.When the machine is running, there are tiny roars one after another, like a low-key symphony.

The only audience of the symphony has no energy to appreciate it. Garcia was looking for clues through the website, and Jareau simply said hello when he entered: "Hi, what's the matter?"

"Good news." Jareau pulled the only empty swivel chair in the office over, "I just saw Elle, she's back."

"Oh, that's great news—wait a minute, who's back?" Garcia asked in surprise, turning her head sharply.

"Elle."

"Oh! That's not good news, that's great news!" Garcia screamed exaggeratedly, "No, I'm going to meet her, I want to say hello to her..." She was about to Standing up, it's a pity that Jareau held her shoulder.

The beautiful liaison officer was unexpectedly strong and easily stopped her from standing up: "Hey, Garcia, we are handling a case."

"...Okay." Garcia glanced at the keyboard and monitor.Those things represented the fate of a boy, and she couldn't let a boy be auctioned off just because of a greeting.

Jareau: "I'm just here to let you know, and I'll say hello to her on your behalf. Now, focus on your work. You're the best."

The corners of Garcia's mouth curved upward slightly."Of course! I'm a genius, I've always been the best!" she said proudly, typing away on the keyboard.

Griffith sat next to Morgan with a document in his hand.

When Cole came out of the bathroom, the plane suddenly bumped. She clutched the seat nervously, her knuckles turned slightly white, and her usually calm face was a little panicked.

Gideon watched her through his glasses.

The bumps passed, and Cole stood up again: "Our people secretly intercepted the information from the chat room. The only breakthrough is the operator of the chat room. I got a search warrant and can search their database."

"Has Hugz's speech patterns been analyzed using forensic linguistics?" Hotch asked. Hugz is the one who uploaded Peter's video.

"Most of the Internet language is abbreviated, so analysis is useless..." The plane bumped again, and Cole grabbed the seat again to stabilize himself.

Griffith stood up and helped Cole sit down next to them. Cole smiled at him.

"Don't like flying?" Gideon said suddenly.

Cole's expression froze.

"Like control?"

"I just think it's better to walk," Cole replied grimly.

Griffith looked up at Gideon on the opposite side, and refocused on the data a second before the other party looked over: "So these pedophiles, how do we deal with them?"

"Pedophiles are divided into two categories, random and pre-determined. Random ones generally have no special preferences, and they create as many opportunities as possible to get close to children in their lives." Hotch analyzed, "and pre-determined ones get close to specific types of children. If This man owned Peter for a year, so he has the right of first. Why sell him now?"

"Maybe, he lost interest." Cole replied flatly, "A pre-existing pedophile only has feelings for a certain type of child, so maybe Peter has grown up and doesn't fit his ideal type, and he doesn't need him anymore, so Going to sell him."

"What if it doesn't sell?" Morgan asked.

Cole said nothing, just glanced at him.

That look was a little cold, with some unbearable and helpless.

Griffith understood.

Gideon answered the sensitive question tactfully: "He won't just let him go."

There was silence.

The computer on the desk suddenly beeped, followed by Jareau's voice: "Hotch?"

"exist."

"I was wondering if we could release Peter's photo to the media..."

"No, no." Cole interrupted her forcefully. "We got the news secretly. These guys are very cunning, alert, and will alert the enemy at the slightest movement. If we alert them, we may lose Peter forever."

Jareau nodded.

"If he had Peter for a year," Griffith said, "he couldn't keep him locked in that kind of room, he'd have to raise the kid. If he did, someone would see him, or know he existed, So... can we assume that the unknown person has a nominal relationship with Peter, or something else, uh, a relationship that allows Peter to stay by his side in a fair manner..."

Hotch nodded: "What's going on with Reid and Elle? Let them also pay attention to the furnishings of the room and find out all the clues we can know."