The team was stunned, quickly rushing out of the office to the operations center. On the large screen, a live feed from a subway platform showed a figure in a hoodie, standing sideways to the camera with their head lowered, occasionally glancing up at their surroundings.
"Where's this?" Jubal shouted to the technicians. Meanwhile, an NYPD liaison officer was already on the phone with their dispatch center.
"The subway station between 59th Street and Lexington Avenue. We've spotted a suspicious individual. We need officers at the scene immediately."
"Oh my God, he's armed!" Garcia screamed, prompting everyone in the operations center to stop what they were doing and look at the screen.
The hooded figure hesitated for a moment, then suddenly pulled out a dark object and aimed it at a woman waiting for the train, her back to him.
There was no audio in the surveillance footage, so no gunshot could be heard. But Garcia couldn't bear to watch and covered her eyes, unable to witness the inevitable. A murder was unfolding before their eyes, and no one in the room could intervene.
Danny leaped to the NYPD liaison's side, shouting into the phone, "Where the hell are the closest officers?"
"He's running!" Garcia cried, her voice trembling as tears welled in her eyes. JJ quickly put an arm around her, her own eyes glistening.
"Switch the cameras! Track his movements!" Jubal barked, his fury palpable as he glared at the fleeing figure on the screen.
The screen flickered as the cameras switched views, finally catching sight of the hoodie-wearing suspect running west along 59th Street. A technician called out, "He's heading toward the park up ahead. That's a surveillance blind spot."
Jack clenched his jaw, his face dark. He thought back to his previous life, where debates over privacy rights delayed NYPD's implementation of body cameras until 2015. Public surveillance systems like "SkyNet" or "SkyEye," common in some countries, were nonexistent in the U.S.
In this world, the situation was even worse. Despite NYPD Commissioner Frank Reagan's push to expand surveillance, funding issues and political roadblocks had left the city with fewer than 8,000 cameras.
In areas with higher crime rates, cameras were often vandalized, with a third of the city's cameras requiring repairs each year. Speed cameras, mainly installed near schools, were legally required to shut off between 10 PM and 6 AM, further limiting their utility.
"We've lost the suspect," a technician murmured.
The room fell silent as everyone stared at the screen, watching helplessly as the hooded figure disappeared out of view. Not a single uniformed officer had appeared during the chase.
Danny slammed his fist on the table. "The closest officers are a block away. They'll need at least two more minutes to get there."
No one blamed NYPD. With every detective on duty, the department still couldn't cover every neighborhood and subway station.
Dana Moritz, who had quietly entered the operations center, walked over to Rossi and whispered, "Nearly 300 FBI agents are arriving in New York tonight. We can't let this go on."
"Then tomorrow, we'll hit the streets ourselves," Emily volunteered immediately.
"I'm in," added Luke Alvez, always eager for action.
Jack didn't oppose the idea but cautioned, "Wear your FBI vests and pair up. I've got a feeling these killers might not be targeting the BAU specifically, but they could very well be after the FBI."
The killers' shift from a two- to three-day interval between attacks to daily strikes coincided with the FBI's formal involvement. Jack couldn't figure out their motive. Why provoke such a massive response from both NYPD and the FBI?
If their goal was to attack federal agents or police officers, there were more direct methods, like the infamous fertilizer truck bomb attack on the Hoover Building.
"This means the killers might shift their attacks to other locations, like libraries, parks, community centers, or even schools," Joyner said worriedly.
"That's still better than doing nothing," Hotchner replied. "Forcing them off the streets and subways might disrupt their pattern and make them slip up."
What Hotchner didn't say was how demoralizing today's events had been for the team. Watching a murder unfold in real-time yet being powerless to stop it had left everyone deeply shaken. Even Hotchner, usually the embodiment of composure, was visibly on edge.
Though the BAU's primary role was profiling, sitting in the office tearing up failed attempts wasn't helping anyone. Putting the team on the streets wasn't just practical; it was a way to take back some control.
Jack's insistence on wearing FBI-branded vests wasn't just about safety. It was a statement—a show of federal resolve and a way to reassure the public.
"Reid and Garcia will remain here. Tomorrow, the rest of us will patrol the streets, two-person teams, and stay alert," Hotchner ordered.
"Jack, JJ, and Rossi, go to the crime scene with Detective Reagan tonight."
The next day, the team returned from the crime scene with little to show for their efforts. Jack found everyone crowded in his office, huddled around Garcia's workstation.
"The scene was the same as before—practically no leads. What are you looking at?" Jack asked.
Hotchner loosened his tie, his expression troubled. "Garcia discovered that this killer isn't the same person as the previous two."
"So now there are three killers?" Rossi said, incredulous.
"Does this increase the likelihood of gang involvement?" JJ asked. She'd spent the entire day reviewing gang profiles but found nothing significant. The thought that she might have missed something filled her with frustration.
"Or it could be familial," Rossi speculated. "The killers might be brothers or otherwise closely related. Tomorrow, we'll patrol during the day and continue working on the profile at night. We can't afford to miss any details."
Though everyone had been working overtime voluntarily, Hotchner's plan effectively meant the entire team would be eating and sleeping in the Federal Building until the case was solved.
(End of Chapter)
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