Mr. Siren [Comprehensive British and American]

There was still a cool breeze in the summer night, Reid opened the window a little to let the wind in, the voice in the ear became soft and gentle in the night wind, and even Triton's whispered complaints seemed childish.

Of course Triton doesn't like to randomly replace people into the crew. After all, "Knights" is also his painstaking effort. Every actor is selected by him after careful consideration and is definitely the most suitable for the role. People's absent promiscuity is unbearable, and what he thinks about is how to rectify people and be honest instead of replacing them.

But being a writer has never been his main business. To be honest, the annual income of being a writer is less than the monthly income of his company. He has always been very clear about where the real focus should be. Under the circumstance that he was absent from work for a year and half a year, he had followed him loyally for hundreds of years, so when the invitation letter was delivered, there was almost no suspense in the choice of compromise or persistence.

Sirens are very good at playing such tricks, probably due to their grasp of people's hearts. Old Dewey is not a mean person, and any qualified businessman would not say No.

Triton is the same, but there is still a paranoid and crazy artist in the heart of the siren, so that he will not completely destroy the special feelings left by this movie.

The businessman's side is cold, selfish and profit-seeking, and the artist's side is stubborn and sentimental, which tends to be extreme. Although Triton has always balanced it very well, occasionally such conflicts make him feel extra uncomfortable.

In the old days, he would probably make others more uncomfortable than him in order to vent, but now he prefers to lie in the water and listen to his humans racking their brains dryly to comfort him.

Reid's means of comforting people are really not very good, and he can't use actions to express concern through the phone - such as a hug, so after using up the little pitiful storage in his stomach, he can hardly think Some new sentence to cheer up Triton, who was talking and talking in a particularly depressed mood.

"Is it bad for me to be like this?" Triton's voice was a bit bitter, "I compromised without even struggling."

"No..." Reid wished that a search engine could be installed in his mind to let him look up a hundred ways to comfort others, he stammered and tried to organize his words, his book full of books seemed to have become useless at this moment Paper, refused to give him any support.

After hemming and hawing for a while, a flash of inspiration suddenly appeared in his head, and he opened his mouth and said, "With that much money, I will definitely compromise immediately."

From Triton's few words, he simply calculated the value-added of the two companies after the cooperation. It can be said that ten "Knights" may not be able to earn a year's profit. Angle Triton didn't do anything wrong.

His consolation was clumsy, and the flash of inspiration was not convincing, but it made Triton chuckle twice, "If this continues, I really can't help but look for you." His tone seemed not so low , turned to bring some warmth, and softly called his human, "Reid."

"My side will be over soon." Reid touched his nose, he would do this sometimes when he was guilty, especially when no one was watching, "Maybe you would like to have a drink with me when you go back coffee?"

"This... of course I'm happy to do it." Triton was distracted as he expected, no longer entangled in whether to go to see him, but followed him to chat about where the coffee is better and where the desserts are Even sweeter, while chatting, the topic was shifted to a place thousands of miles away.

While chatting with Triton, Reid flipped through the documents, and he secretly heaved a sigh of relief when he heard the brisk tone gradually becoming the same as before.

Chatting like this, the night was getting late before you knew it, Triton looked at the clock towards eleven o'clock, and ended the conversation first.

"Go to bed early, I wish you a smooth work tomorrow."

"You too... your work is going well." Reid put away the finished materials, lay down on the bed and covered him with a quilt.

"Then... good night." Triton's voice was gentle, and when he lowered his voice to say good night, it was like a vibrato winding in his ears, making people's hearts tremble, "BabyReid."

"Good night..." Reid subconsciously realized that Triton's nickname had been deliberately changed after subconsciously replying, and gritted his teeth and answered, "Baby Triton."

"Heh..." In the end, the phone call ended with Siren's deep and magnetic chuckle.

I reached out to turn off the light and closed my eyes, and the "good night" that was still circulating in my ears actually gave birth to some pajamas.

good night.

Have a good dream.

On the other hand, Triton hung up the phone and continued to plan how to squeeze the most out of the Deweys.

The nature of a businessman is nothing more than this.

In a small corner of the United States, the editor who had already encountered the crisis of dying before his middle age crossed out another number on the calendar and sighed deeply.

Today's writer still hasn't given him a manuscript.

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In the early hours of the morning, Reid was woken up by the ringing of the phone. He was half asleep and half awake and saw that he had just fallen asleep for a little over an hour. Hotch informed him that he had the latest clue and had to rush to the office immediately. He rubbed his messy sleeping hair, covered his head and sighed With a sigh of relief, the quality of sleep at night was so good that he woke up with a splitting headache, his eyes glued together and his brain refused to get out of bed to face the cruel world.

However, he only fought against himself for a few seconds, quickly got up and changed his clothes, rubbed his face with cold water, stuffed the materials into his bag, and rushed to work.

I didn't forget to grab something to eat before I left. Judging by this posture, I don't need to sleep tonight.

The BAU actually released the profile yesterday, but a sudden visit by the Austrian royal family about the medical project left several officials in Washington so busy that the latest clues did not arrive until the early hours of the morning.

This is a case that cannot be delayed. Of the 25 infected people, only 4 are still barely alive. A more serious biochemical attack may break out at any time. Even if there is only a little clue, it is worth their desperate pursuit day and night.

"This is it." The black official who got in touch with them through the video remotely clicked on a video, "This is the record of the secret hearing held with the National Defense Security Subcommittee in January 2002."

The middle-aged man in the video strongly asked the country to increase funds and preparations for anthrax prevention, but it was obvious that the people who listened to his opinions did not pay attention to it, which obviously angered him.

"Dr. Lawrence Nichols, who previously worked at the Fort Detrick Research Institute, was expelled in 02 because of his... inappropriate words and deeds at this hearing." The official said, "and cannot join other important departments."

"Dr. Nichols is very accomplished in this area." Reid said, "But the military seems to think that he will not spread germs, and his reputation has always been very good."

"But it's clear he thinks no one understands him," Morgan said. "Maybe he's just trying to make a point."

"Anyway he was exposed to germs, lost a good job and got divorced," the official said. "It matches your profile."

"Searching...Dr. Nichols is currently working for a company called Biodesign Technology. That company specializes in flu research. Fort Detrick will outsource part of the work to them." Garcia tapped the keyboard, "His home address and The company address has been sent to you."

Hotch said, "We've got to bring him here, Dave, and you and Prentiss go to his office." Rossi nodded and Emily walked out.

"Morgan and Reid go to his house." Reid put the thick medical records from his bag on the table, and went out with Morgan.

Dr. Nichols' house is a small detached villa. Roses and shrubs are planted in the garden in front of the door. Hei couldn't see clearly that Reid was accidentally scratched by a rose.

The lights in the villa were on.

"Go in and have a look?" Morgan asked, just as he took a step, the phone rang a second later, Reid gestured for him, Morgan nodded and made a cautious gesture, watching him walk into the villa.

……

the door is not closed...

Reid drew the gun from his waist to raise his vigilance, and leaned sideways at the door to look around.

The lights were on, the laboratory table, petri dishes, materials were piled up on the table, as well as a large pool of blood on the ground and a completely cold corpse. The blower above the head was turned on, whistling non-stop. Reid frowned and walked forward for two Bu wanted to inspect the corpse, turned around the table and saw the broken test tube in front of the corpse.

White powder spilled out of it and was blown everywhere by the blower.

"Reid? Reid?" Morgan finished the call and was walking inside.

Reid suddenly realized something, stood up and rushed to the door and closed it hard, blocking Morgan from the door.

"Back! Morgan back!" he yelled through the glass door. "Get out of here! Immediately!"

"Reid! What's the matter?!" Morgan seemed to sense something bad, "Open the door, Reid! Reid!"

Reid didn't speak, he looked up at Morgan after locking the door with his head down, "I might have screwed up... Anyway, you get out of here first."

……

Morgan rushed out to call to inform Hotch of the unexpected situation here, Reid looked back at the situation in the room, clenched his fists to calm himself down, and walked in again.

If the situation is really as he expected, then he has been infected with anthrax now, instead of sitting in despair and unable to get out, it is better to see if he can find more clues, if Dr. Nichols made the virus, so he probably also made the antidote.

He first checked the condition of the corpse. It was indeed Dr. Nichols's corpse. Judging from the degree of stiffness and the spots on the corpse, he had been dead for two to three days. This coincided with the time of the earliest germ attack they found, so the person who caused the attack was not It would have been him, there were signs of a fight in the room, and it was likely that the attacker had killed him.

Fortunately, the murderer should have been hiding in the room and sneaked out after seeing him coming in. The blower was turned on not long ago, and the test tube should have been broken after seeing him and Morgan coming, because he closed the room in time There is no need to worry about the virus spreading out for a while.

There are two desks in the room, one is messy and the other is tidy. At the same time, there are two kinds of handwriting reflected on the report. He found some descriptions about the experiment, which are very detailed, but Dr. Nichols should already know the information completely. It doesn't need to be written like this.

An assistant, or an apprentice, kills the master after the virus is complete.

Reid called Hotch to quickly convey the news that he had found, so that they could find out who the person was as soon as possible, while flipping through the research report to see if he could find some clues between the lines.

Through the window he saw a car pull up at the door, he breathed a sigh of relief, and after sending out the edited email, he called Garcia.

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In the middle of writing Triton’s manuscript, he saw his phone light up, reminding him that he had the latest emails. He picked it up, looked at it, and immediately made a call. “I’m going to the place where BAU’s latest case is being handled within half an hour.” His The voice was cold, leaving no room for negotiation, "You still have 29 minutes to prepare."

——The mind is its own kingdom, it can create the hell of heaven, and the heaven of hell.

It may seem like a supplement to the lame comfort just now, but his humans don't like emails, and they can be as short as they can every time, let alone send such messages in the middle of the night when he may have already fallen asleep.

Something must have happened.