Quantico – BAU War Room – 8:04 AM
"Someone planned this," Garcia said, her voice unusually tense. "This wasn't just an opportunistic abduction. They knew where Jason would be, what path he'd take, even how long we'd be separated."
Hotch looked up from the map. "He was targeted."
Reid spun around from his desk, eyes wide. "What if this isn't the unsub we were tracking? What if this is someone else using the current case as a smokescreen?"
Garcia's fingers blurred across her keyboard. "Then they had help. I found encrypted chatter in a dark web forum—military code buried in the syntax. Only a few people alive would even recognize it, and guess what? One of them is Jason Cole."
Morgan, bruised and still blaming himself, paced furiously. "You're telling me someone from Jason's past did this?"
Gideon's voice was cold. "Not just someone from his past. Someone who knew him before he was a profiler."
Hotch narrowed his eyes. "Pull everything on Jason's last black ops mission. I want every ghost, every shadow, every name that disappeared with that file."
Unknown Location – 52 Hours In
Jason knelt in the dark, breathing slow, controlled. Blood still dripped from a cut along his ribs. His shoulder had been dislocated and reset—by himself. The restraints were gone now, replaced with a chain secured to a steel loop in the floor. But it wasn't about escape anymore.
It was about timing.
His captor—"Milo Vex," he'd called himself—paced just outside the circle of light, the kind of man who didn't kill for pleasure, but for validation. He wanted to be seen. Understood. Feared.
Jason watched him silently, committing every detail to memory.
"You don't scream," Milo said. "You don't break. Even after everything I've done."
Jason's voice was hoarse, but steady. "You don't know how to break me. You're a soldier pretending to be a god."
Milo paused, breathing hard. "You always thought you were better. On that op… back in Kandahar. You left us behind."
Jason closed his eyes for a brief second. "You turned. You started torturing civilians. The mission was compromised."
"You buried it," Milo snapped. "You buried me."
Jason opened his eyes again. "Then dig. See what happens when the grave bites back."
BAU Jet – En Route to West Virginia
Garcia's findings lit up the screen in front of the team.
"Meet Milo Vex," she said, pulling up an old Army intelligence profile. "Real name: Miles Vexler. Former Delta Force operative. Declared MIA during Operation Cold Knife—Jason's last mission before he left the field."
Reid's eyes widened. "Wait—he's supposed to be dead."
Garcia nodded grimly. "Yeah. Turns out he faked his death and went deep. He's been hiding under aliases, moving between militias, mercenary networks, and kill-for-hire rings."
Hotch leaned forward. "He blamed Jason."
"And now he wants a final war," Gideon said softly. "Not to kill Jason, but to prove he's better."
Morgan slammed his fist into his palm. "Then let's prove he's not."
Unknown Location – 60 Hours In
Jason counted the seconds. Listened for patterns.
Every time Milo entered the room, he used the same cadence. Three steps. Pause. Key in the lock. Door opens.
He also made a mistake: he underestimated silence.
When Milo opened the door next, Jason was already halfway out of his chain. He'd spent hours slowly widening the anchor hole with a shard of steel.
Milo turned, too late.
Jason lunged.
They crashed against the table of tools, steel clattering, punches thrown with bone-breaking intent. Jason's hands were still raw, his muscles burning—but he fought like a man who'd learned pain was just the cost of survival.
Milo reached for the knife.
Jason grabbed a broken restraint—wrapped it around Milo's neck—and twisted.
"THIS is what you wanted?" Jason hissed, blood dripping from his brow. "You wanted a monster?"
Milo's face turned purple, gasping.
Jason didn't kill him.
He let go—just enough to knock him unconscious.
Because the real victory wasn't in vengeance.
It was in making it out alive.
Abandoned Hunting Lodge – 72 Hours After Abduction
The BAU stormed the cabin ten minutes later.
Morgan was first through the door, gun raised.
What he saw stopped him cold.
Jason stood in the center of the room, shirt ripped, bleeding, holding a piece of piping like a club. His face was bruised but defiant.
At his feet was Milo Vex, hogtied and out cold.
"About time," Jason muttered.
Morgan lowered his weapon, exhaled hard. "You crazy son of a—"
Jason dropped the pipe. "Don't say it. Just get me out of here."
Hotch stepped in behind Morgan. "We've got you, Cole."
Jason gave a tired smile. "Took long enough."
Quantico – Infirmary – 18 Hours Later
Jason sat shirtless on the exam table, stitches lining his side. Garcia peeked in through the doorway.
"They told me you'd survive," she said softly, "but I wanted to see it myself."
Jason looked up at her, tired but calm. "You came all the way down here?"
"You fought a trained killer with your bare hands, Jason."
He gave a faint smile. "You didn't think I was just a brain, did you?"
Garcia grinned. "I thought you were terrifying before. Now I think you're invincible."
Jason's eyes darkened slightly. "No one's invincible, Garcia. Not even ghosts."