"Some ghosts don't haunt you. They hunt with you." —Jason Cole
Quantico – BAU Headquarters – 10:21 AM – 3 Days Later
Jason stood before the evidence board, arms still bandaged, but his eyes sharper than ever. Milo Vex was locked down in a federal black site, sedated, isolated, and guarded by a rotating team of handpicked agents.
And yet Jason wasn't at peace.
Because Milo didn't do this alone.
"You're sure?" Hotch asked from behind him.
Jason didn't turn. "He had help. The chains were military-issue, the food was clean-rationed, and the surveillance in the holding room was top-tier. This wasn't some lone lunatic in a basement. Milo Vex was equipped."
Morgan leaned against the table, shaking his head. "You think there's someone on the inside?"
Jason looked over his shoulder. "I know it."
Garcia entered, face pale and serious, clutching a tablet. "You're gonna want to sit down for this."
Jason didn't move.
Garcia sighed. "Fine, you stubborn bloodied action figure. Here's what I found. Two encrypted files embedded in Milo's burner laptop—he tried to wipe them, but not before yours truly snagged a copy. They were access logs."
Hotch frowned. "Access to what?"
Garcia tapped the screen, and a classified clearance ID photo appeared.
"This guy. Lieutenant Colonel Anthony Rourke. Black ops strategist. Pentagon-adjacent. Declassified in 2023 under a deep-cover burnout clause. But he was involved in Cold Knife. Milo's last mission. Jason's last mission."
Jason's face turned to stone.
Garcia continued. "Rourke signed off on the order to leave Vex for dead."
Reid looked up from his desk. "If Vex survived and went rogue, Rourke would be the only one with access to every detail about your service profile, your psych evaluations—everything."
Morgan added, "And if Vex wanted revenge but didn't know how to reach you… Rourke could've offered a blueprint."
Gideon stepped forward. "So Rourke built the stage. Vex played the part."
Jason nodded slowly. "But Rourke's not doing this to settle old scores."
Hotch narrowed his eyes. "Then what's he doing it for?"
Jason stared at the glowing file on Garcia's screen, voice like steel.
"He's starting a war."
Washington D.C. – Undisclosed Federal Site – That Night
Rourke sat in a sleek, glass-walled office beneath the Capitol, drinking whiskey from a crystal tumbler. The news on the television spoke of foreign tension, rising insurgencies, and terrorism whispers along borderlines.
But Rourke wasn't listening.
He was watching a video feed—grainy, looping. Jason Cole, chained, resisting. Bleeding. Defying.
"Still unbroken," he muttered.
A voice crackled over the encrypted comm.
"Sir. Vex failed. But you were right—he drew Cole out. The rest of the team suspects nothing."
Rourke smirked.
"Oh, they will. Because the next one? I'm not sending a soldier."
He reached into a drawer and pulled out a photo.
A young woman. Blonde. Sharp eyes. Cold smile.
"She's better. She's clean. And she's been waiting a long time to meet him."
Quantico – BAU Briefing Room – The Next Morning
Another body. This time in Philadelphia.
Female, late 20s, posed—but not like Milo's victims. No mutilation. No signature violence. Just intent. A warning.
Jason studied the crime scene photo and froze.
Reid noticed. "You recognize her?"
Jason nodded once. "She was a recruit. Delta selection class. She washed out."
Hotch frowned. "Name?"
Jason answered slowly. "Rebecca Langley. But she went by 'Ash.' She didn't fail the psych eval. She scored too high."
Morgan raised an eyebrow. "How high are we talking?"
Jason turned from the board. "She beat my score. And she liked what she saw."
Garcia entered the room, holding another file. "I did a scan for her. Rebecca Langley officially died two years ago in a training accident."
She laid the file down.
"It was signed off… by Rourke."
Jason stared at it, a strange chill behind his eyes.
"She's the next move. And she's not here to finish what Milo started."
Hotch met his gaze. "Then what's her goal?"
Jason's voice was barely above a whisper.
"She wants to tear the team apart. From the inside."
Somewhere Else – Watching
In a dark apartment filled with monitors, Rebecca "Ash" Langley watched the BAU through hacked feeds and hidden lenses. She saw how Jason walked. How he spoke. Who he trusted. Who he didn't.
She smiled.
"Let's see what breaks first," she whispered. "His body… or his family."