Spencer Reid Fbi Vest Mga Nobela at Kwento

Hayden quickly turned the television on. "Thanks." He said to his cousin. They watched as the breaking news banner flashed across the screen. Then Dennis was seen with two other men standing in front of a podium. The man who appeared to be speaking first looked like FBI. He was wearing a black suit with a white shirt. He was clean-cut with short brown hair.

the redhead reported. Blair stood across from Spencer in his cluttered office. She wore regular clothes; dark jeans, a hoodie, and practical sneakers; as much as possible to go unnoticed. At this point, being discovered would be like setting fire to the investigation. "Some of the story is untrue," Blair mused. "Why?" the inspector showed interest.

I simply turned on my heel and left his office. I made my way back to the Alpha mansion, heading up to Reid's quarters. I stripped out of the summer dress I had been wearing all day and pulled on a tactical outfit instead. The outfit consisted of a black compression shirt, reinforced leggings, and some sturdy sneakers. I pulled my long hair back into a neat ponytail, securing it so firmly it pulled at my scalp. I needed to be fast. I needed to find Reid alive. By the time I was laced up, Ava had arrived to take over the watch for Mira. She looked at my outfit, her eyes widening with concern.

Spencer already pulls out a gun as he loads the gun. ” You’re sure about this?” Manny asks this time. I smile and nod.” I’m sure. Alexa is here and also you guys got my back.” Manny smiles at me. ” You might wanna use this.” Spencer says giving me a bulletproof vest. ” Is that necessary?” I ask and take it. “Yup, very necessary.” Alexa says and collects another one for herself. I remove my peacoat and put it on. ” Okay, I can’t breathe.” I say and take in deep breaths.

"Plus, FBI safe houses usually just have the basic necessities. This house is entirely color coordinated and styled." "Well good for you for being so damn observant," He says sarcastically. I wouldn't still be alive if I wasn't. I don't tell him this though and instead, I just shrug, keeping my back to him. I watch as another car drives down the street. "Uh, Agent Stevenson?" No way I'm calling him Ryder to his face. Asshole, maybe. Ryder, no. "What now?" "Did anyone see you when you kidnapped me from the motel?"

Reynolds stood in the narrow service alley behind the federal building, collar turned up against the drizzle, watching the side entrance like a man who had already sold his soul twice and was considering a third time. His hands were deep in his pockets, fingers wrapped around the spare USB drive he had made weeks ago.. the one with the unredacted files, the ones even Victor did not know existed.

I asks “You are an upcoming bigshot fashion designer, of course it's high profile.” I swallowed hard as I walked on the steps majestically. Today is the day we know if the Judge is on the right side of the law. “Miss Thompson.” I heard my name. “Hi.” I turned around to the person who called my name. “I'm special agent Gina Colton from the FBI.” “What can I do for you, Special Agent?” “I'm wondering if you have heard from Victor Reynolds, in the last few days,”she says. “No, I have not.” I said and turned around.

"The person who's been watching your building is a freelance investigator named Bates. Bates has been hired twice — once during the Morrison period, which you already knew, and once in the last three weeks." "Morrison hired him both times?" I asked. "Morrison hired him the first time. The second time — Danny Reid." Alex did not move. "Reid and Morrison are connected?" I said. "They have been for at least two years." Carver opened the folder. "Reid worked as a consultant for one of Morrison's subsidiaries from 2022 to early 2024. The engagement is listed as strategy advising but the invoices suggest something more specific — litigation intelligence." I looked at Alex. "He wasn't a coincidence

I asked aloud, my feet now shuffling restlessly against the rugged floor. "I'm sorry, man. Whoever did it had thought about everything carefully," Reynold said, and I could hear the tiredness in his voice. "Hmmm," I said thoughtfully before adding, "I'm going to send you a contact who's going to help you. His name is James Furry, he's an FBI agent." I told Reynold, sending him James' contact immediately. The line went dead.

, would show the whole truth. I got out of the car with the files and laptop in hand as I made my way to the door. I knocked on Reynolds’ door, my badge in hand, my heart pounding. A girl, maybe ten, with blonde pigtails and sleepy eyes, opened it, peering up at me. “Who’re you?” she asked, her voice soft but curious. “Ethan Caldwell, FBI,” I said, flashing my badge, my voice low. “I need to see your dad.”