Novel & Cerita Spencer Reid Fbi Vest

As the hook on the fishing rod went into the water, Hansen asked coldly. "My niece's wedding today isn't that simple. In my opinion, at least three different factions have snuck in. Also, I am now the most wanted criminal in the world. Do you think I dare come in?" Reid's eyes were cold as he said that. Reid was indeed someone from the underground. He really was something. Hansen understood that his men were not the only ones who were present that day. There were also Christopher's police officers, but they were all very secretive. So, it was impossible for Reid to find out.

And for a second, it did. But just as Helen stepped back to deliver her closing remarks, the front door swung open behind us. Two sharply dressed men walked in-uninvited. One wore a dark navy coat, the other a blazer with a visitor badge clipped to the collar. Everyone froze. Helen glanced at them, frowning. "Excuse me, this is a private..." The man in the blazer stepped forward, holding up a badge. "FBI. Special Agent Rhodes. We need to speak with Mr. Donald Hampton immediately."

He was still wearing an apron when he opened the door, he opened the door wider and exposed an Ak47 prime casually hanging from his left arm. "This is Spencer, he is a retired agent considered RED—" I cut his introduction short. First of all, he didn't look like Spencer at all. I thought Spencer's were extremely good looking and belonged to a boy band but I guess I was wrong. "What is RED?" I asked him. "Retired and extremely dangerous.." He said casually, making all of us stop in our tracks. "Don't mind him kid, I'm ex RED," The man clarified in a gruff voice before dropping the gun on the kitchen counter.

Their gazes collided, and the air froze for three seconds. Ellena was shocked to see the person in front of her. Spencer said with a surprised expression, "What a coincidence! Good morning." Ellena asked, "Why are you still following me?" The two of them spoke almost at the same time. "How can you say that I am following you? This room was lent to me by my friend. I even thought that you were following me!" Spencer was probably going to work in the criminal investigation team today. He was wearing a well-ironed blue striped suit and looked very decent.

His eyes burned with unshed tears, the weight of helplessness pressing down on him as he looked around the van. Something caught his attention. The men were dressed in FBI uniforms, but something was off. None of them had identification badges, and there were no names printed on their jackets. He squinted, doubt creeping in like a cold breeze. Is this even the FBI? His mind buzzed with questions. Was this some special unit, or was something much darker at play? The car suddenly diverted from the familiar road to the FBI station, taking a turn down an abandoned route that sent a shiver down Brandon’s spine.

Braden, perhaps, would be the exception. Asher squeezes my arm, grounding me. He is the most handsome man I have ever seen, and the bond between us thrums happily in my chest. We ascend the stairs, the weight of the moment pressing down on me. At the top, Reid greets us, looking uncharacteristically put together. His long blonde hair is braided, and he wears a black tailored suit jacket that clings to his muscular frame. Beneath it, a simple black tee. His metal chain necklace rests loosely around his throat, a familiar contrast to the sharp elegance of his attire. He wears dark jeans, slightly ripped, and I smile. This is the most dressed up I have ever seen Reid—who practically lives in gy

The man gave a curt nod and rode through. Inside, the mansion loomed like a fortress. Lights glowed behind one set of curtains. The bike rolled to a stop in front of Spencer Reid’s home. Before he could even knock, the door swung open. Spencer stood in the entrance, already dressed in black, his expression unreadable. His eyes flicked once to the man’s helmet. “What did you find?” Spencer asked, voice low and sharp. The man took off his helmet, his face still shadowed by the porch light. He held up the envelope.

I asked, my brows furrowed as I paused in front of Spencer's ward. "Don't worry," she laughed. "This one is cool. We are working together with the Feds bursting into some trafficker's hideout, he's only going to be in there for a few hours to plant the virus into their system." My fingers tightened around the paper bags as I let out a deep breath. "Be careful." "Always." She replied and hung up the call. As I walked into the dimly lit ward, I set the bags on the table and placed my phone into my pocket before walking into the other room to check on Spencer.

Aryan said as Sid chuckled, he hated no loathed studying. They did a fist-hand shake before walking inside unaware of the fact that two curious eyes were looking at them from afar. … Aryan was hardly keeping himself from vomiting his guts out as he looked at the two bodies in front of them. “What’s it?” The head of the information department who was their boss asked as they looked at the screen, Sid was holding the non-tractable deceive in his hands. “Dead,” Aryan said inspecting the area for any fingerprints. “How long?” Veronica asked, the lady did not even flinch at the sight of the dead bodies, true that she was known as the most heartless woman and deadliest Spy in the agency.

However, just as everyone was about to walk out of the airport, three speeding black Cadillac SUVs screeched to a stop at the gates and blocked the way. Six guards with guns who were wearing black combat uniforms quickly got out of the car. These people were all fully armed. The two people in the lead wore black suits, black trench coats, and black sunglasses. It was the typical look of the SPEAR Bureau in Hollywood movies! The two guys walked up to Philip and the others. A blonde guy with a serious and resolute expression took out a document. He said to them in a gruff voice, “I received orders from our FAI personnel to bring all of you back to assist in an investigation!”