Chapter 24: The Summons
The email arrived at 6 AM.
I was already awake—old military habits die hard, and the jet from Seattle had landed at 2 AM without doing much to reset my body clock. I'd managed four hours of something that passed for sleep before giving up and making coffee in my apartment's tiny kitchen.
My phone buzzed on the counter. New email.
From: Jason Gideon (FBI) Subject: (none) Body: My office. 8 AM. Come alone.
No greeting. No explanation. No signature beyond the automated footer.
I stared at the message for a long moment.
[ASSESSMENT: CONFRONTATION PROBABLE]
[PROFILE EVALUATION: LIKELY]
[GIDEON SUSPICION LEVEL: ELEVATED SINCE CH.1]
[PREPARE COUNTERMEASURES]
The system's analysis matched my own instincts. This wasn't a casual check-in or a case debrief. This was the conversation I'd been expecting since my first day—the one where Gideon stopped watching from a distance and started asking direct questions.
I finished my coffee, showered, dressed in my standard work attire. Considered and rejected the idea of calling in sick. If Gideon wanted this meeting, avoiding it would only confirm whatever suspicions he was nursing.
Face it head-on. That's the only play.
The BAU was quiet at 7:45 AM. Most agents trickled in around 8:30 unless there was an active case. The bullpen sat empty except for the cleaning crew finishing their overnight rounds and a few early birds catching up on paperwork.
Gideon's office door was closed but not locked. I knocked twice.
"Come in."
The room was exactly as I remembered from my first visit—book-lined walls, comfortable chairs, the deliberate warmth of a space designed to put people at ease. The bird feeder outside the window held a cluster of finches jockeying for position.
Gideon sat behind his desk, hands folded, watching me with those paper-colored eyes that had profiled more killers than I could count.
"Close the door, Agent Mercer."
I did.
Neither of us spoke for ten seconds. Fifteen. Twenty.
The silence stretched, filling the room like something solid. I recognized the technique—wait for the other person to break, to fill the void with nervous chatter, to reveal something they'd intended to keep hidden.
He's good. But I've been trained to handle interrogation.
I sat down in the chair across from his desk, crossed one ankle over my knee, and waited.
Gideon's lips twitched—not quite a smile, but close.
"Most people can't handle silence," he said finally. "They start talking just to make it stop."
"I've learned the value of patience."
"Have you?" He leaned forward slightly. "Tell me about the Marsh arrest. Specifically, how you predicted his method."
I'd prepared for this.
"His profile suggested someone who derived power from information rather than physical dominance. The dating app deletion pattern indicated he was using digital tools to research victims. The progression from stalking to confrontation followed a standard escalation curve for non-violent offenders seeking control."
"That's the textbook answer. I want to know how you really knew."
"I don't understand the question."
Gideon's eyes narrowed.
"You anticipated his approach before the behavioral evidence was complete. Garcia had barely finished identifying the app connection when you started describing his methodology. You saw the pattern before the pattern was visible."
He's been watching. Closer than I realized.
"Pattern recognition improves with experience," I said carefully. "CID exposed me to a wide range of criminal psychology. Some of that transfers."
"CID involved military criminals. Deserters. Violent offenders. Not digital stalkers terrorizing civilian families." Gideon tilted his head. "Your insight seemed... premature."
[WARNING: PROFILE ASSESSMENT IN PROGRESS]
[GIDEON IS ACTIVELY READING YOU]
[ANTI-PROFILING MEASURES: ENGAGING]
[FOCUS: -5]
I kept my breathing steady, my posture open but not defensive. The system fed me data about Gideon's own tells—the slight tension in his jaw, the way his fingers pressed against each other, the micro-movements of his eyes as he catalogued my responses.
He's not certain. He has suspicions, but no proof. Don't give him proof.
"I study," I said. "Off-duty. Case files, academic papers, whatever I can get my hands on. The digital age has changed criminal methodology. I've been trying to understand how."
"That's commendable. But it doesn't explain everything."
"What would explain everything, in your view?"
The question hung between us.
Gideon was silent for a long moment. Outside, a cardinal landed on the bird feeder, scattering the finches. Both of us watched it—the bright red against gray morning, the decisive movements of a creature that knew exactly what it wanted.
"I had a mentor once," Gideon said quietly. "David Rossi. Retired before you joined. He used to say that birds don't lie. They don't pretend to be something they're not. They don't hide their nature."
"Humans are more complicated."
"Yes. We complicate everything." Gideon's gaze returned to me. "You see things you shouldn't be able to see, Mercer. You process faster than your training explains. You make connections that take other agents days to reach. Either you're exceptionally gifted, or you're hiding something."
The accusation—because that's what it was—settled into the space between us.
I could deny it. Could offer more explanations, more justifications, more carefully constructed lies. But Gideon was too good to be fooled by surface answers, and pushing back too hard would only confirm his suspicions.
Give him something. A partial truth that satisfies without revealing.
"I prefer to think of it as unusually motivated, sir."
Gideon's eyebrows rose slightly.
"Motivated by what?"
"By the work. By the victims. By the chance to stop people like Marsh before they destroy more families." I held his gaze. "I've seen what happens when predators aren't stopped. In the military, in the aftermath of conflict. I came here because I believe the BAU can make a real difference. If I process faster than expected, it's because I don't have time to waste."
Silence again. But different this time—thoughtful rather than confrontational.
The cardinal finished its meal and flew away, a flash of red disappearing into the gray sky.
"You're not wrong about motivation," Gideon said finally. "The best profilers are driven by something deeper than career advancement. But motivation can also be a vulnerability. People who care too much sometimes lose perspective."
"I understand."
"Do you?" He leaned back in his chair. "Let me be direct, Agent Mercer. I've been doing this work for a very long time. I've seen agents who were hiding personal demons. Agents who were hiding professional failures. Agents who were hiding things they'd done that they weren't proud of. In most cases, those hidden things eventually came to light. Sometimes gradually, sometimes catastrophically."
"And you think I'm hiding something."
"I think you're hiding several things. I don't know what they are. I don't know if they matter." He paused. "But I'm watching. I'll continue watching. Not because I don't trust you—your work has been exemplary—but because the BAU is a family. We protect each other. Which means we have to know who we're protecting."
He's giving me a warning. And an opportunity.
"I appreciate your honesty, sir."
"I'm not finished." Gideon's voice hardened slightly. "I've seen agents burn out trying to carry too much alone. Whatever you're hiding—if it's something to protect yourself, I understand. We all have things we don't share. But if you're hiding something that affects this team—something that could put people at risk—I won't understand. I won't forgive it. And I will find out."
The words landed like hammer blows.
He knows I'm not what I appear to be. He can't prove it, can't even articulate it, but he knows.
And he's telling me the rules of engagement.
I stood, aware that the conversation had reached its natural end.
"I hear you, Agent Gideon. And for what it's worth—I'm not hiding anything that would hurt this team. The work matters to me. The people matter to me. That's the truth."
Gideon studied me for a long moment.
"I believe you believe that," he said. "Whether it's actually true remains to be seen. You're dismissed."
I walked to the door. My hand was on the handle when his voice stopped me.
"One more thing, Mercer."
I turned.
"You've built something with this team. Friendships. Trust. That's good—it's how the BAU is supposed to work. But trust is a two-way street. At some point, you're going to have to decide whether you're willing to give as much as you receive."
I didn't have an answer for that.
I left.
The bullpen was starting to fill—Morgan arriving with coffee, Reid already buried in a case file, JJ coordinating with her press contacts. Normal morning activity for the Behavioral Analysis Unit.
Elle caught my eye from across the room. Raised an eyebrow—everything okay?
I nodded. Smiled. Sat down at my desk and opened my email like nothing had happened.
But Gideon's words echoed in my head.
"If you're hiding something that affects this team... I won't understand. I won't forgive it."
He was right, of course. The secrets I carried—the system, the meta-knowledge, the truth about where I'd really come from—they were exactly the kind of secrets that could destroy trust if they came to light.
But they were also the secrets that let me do this work. Let me save lives. Let me be useful in ways that a normal agent never could.
The question is whether the good outweighs the risk.
And whether Gideon will give me enough time to prove it.
My phone buzzed. Elle.
Lunch? I know a place.
I typed back: Wouldn't miss it.
Outside Gideon's window, the bird feeder sat empty. The cardinal was gone, disappeared into a sky that couldn't decide between rain and sun.
"Birds don't lie."
But humans aren't birds. We're more complicated.
We have to be.
To supporting Me in Pateron .
with exclusive access to more chapters (based on tiers more chapters for each tiers) on my Patreon, you get more chapters if you ask for more (in few days), plus new fanfic every week! Your support starting at just $6/month helps me keep crafting the stories you love across epic universes like [ In The Witcher With Avatar Powers,In The Vikings With Deja Vu System,Stranger Things Demogorgon Tamer ...].
By joining, you're not just getting more chapters—you're helping me bring new worlds, twists, and adventures to life. Every pledge makes a huge difference!
👉 Join now at patreon.com/TheFinex5 and start reading today!