Raja, hauling the burned Professor Wallace, stumbled out of the blazing Bradshaw College building with Morgan dragging Gideon close behind.
Sirens wailed as ambulances and fire trucks screeched up, paramedics whisking Wallace to the hospital, his third-degree burns looking like a bad BBQ.
Raja, shirt half-torched, dusted off his hands, smirking, "Another day, another inferno."
MAYA: "Master, you're a walking fire hazard."
As the team caught their breath, Jeremy, a nerdy lab kid, scurried to the dean, blurting, "I know how the arsonist lit that fire!" The dean, frazzled, waved him toward the BAU crew.
In the science lab, Raja, Reid, and Hotchner grilled Jeremy and his geek squad.
Jeremy, adjusting his glasses, explained, "The lightbulb was rigged with accelerant—boom, instant fire."
A researcher girl, enthuastiically, chimed in, "Molotov cocktails are easy. Potassium, sulfur, sugar—YouTube's got tutorials. Any idiot can grab that stuff."
Raja's eyes glinted; his 25% brain was already whirring.
The BAU hotline buzzed with a pre-attack tip: an automated voice hissing, "I do this for Karen!"
Raja, overhearing, froze, his brain revving like a V8. In a flash, he connected the dots, his evil grin spreading like wildfire.
Gideon, catching Raja's vibe, gaped, "Raja, you got a profile on the arsonist?"
The team—Reid, Morgan, Elle, Hotchner—leaned in, jaws slack, like kids at a magic show.
Raja, milking the drama, smirked, "I know who the killer, but I need one thing first." He demanded the first arson video, popping it on a laptop.
As flames flickered on-screen, he studied it, stroking his chin like a discount Sherlock. "Who wants the big reveal?" he teased.
Reid shot his hand up like a first-grader, making Morgan twitch, "Man, put your hand down we are not kindergarteners!"
Raja cleared his throat, voice booming, "First, that tip line voice? Not 'Karen'—it's 'haron af,' Hebrew for God's burning anger. This is religious arson, folks."The team nodded, hooked.
Gideon, impatient, barked, "Stop stalling, and being mysterious kid—spill!"
Raja grinned, "The arsonist's got OCD, obsessed with the number three—trinity vibes. They do everything in threes, probably a fire survivor, traumatized and saved. Reid, first arson date?"
Reid flipped through notes, "March 3, 3 p.m. Wallace's classes are Tuesdays, office number 3."
Raja clapped, "Genius, my man! Out-of-the-box thinking! Check the video—door rotates three times. And the kicker? Our firebug's not a dude—it's a she." Gasps echoed;
Elle whispered, "No way."
Hotchner, gears turning, snapped, "I know who the arsonist, Clara Hayes. Chemistry student. She bragged about knowing lightbulb bombs and used the word sugar three times while explain and also she rotate her ring three times in every iteration."
Raja high-fived him, "Hotchner, you're my fellow eagle-eye! Clara's our girl."
The team stormed Clara's off-campus apartment, finding it a shrine to obsession—walls plastered with threes, trinity symbols, and burn scars on furniture. Files revealed Clara survived a house fire at address 333, unscathed, but unhinged.
"She sees triple threes as a divine test," Reid said, "and picks targets to 'purify.'"
Raja nodded, "Psycho who believes she is doing god's work by purifying the world with a fuel and matchstick—classic."
Raja, Gideon, and Hotchner scoured campus, spotting Clara—a wiry girl with a twitchy gaze—near the chem lab.
Raja, ever the showman, sauntered up, cool as ice, and purred, "Got a light, Miss Arsonist?"
Clara's eyes widened, panic kicking in. Before she could bolt, Raja's peak-human reflexes struck—he slashed her bag with a penknife (because style), spilling homemade explosives.
Gideon and Hotchner pounced, cuffing her as she squealed, "It's God's will!"
Raja dusted his hands, smirking, "God called—he wants his lighter back."
MAYA: "Master, you're insufferable."
Raja, fresh from torching an arsonist's case, Travelled to Pasadena, ready to stir up chaos with the Nerd Squad.
He knocked on Sheldon and Leonard's apartment door, bursting in like a rockstar.
Inside, Howard was coaching Sheldon in Mandarin, his accent butchering every syllable.
"Sheldon, you sound like a drunk panda," Raja quipped, flopping onto their couch.
Sheldon, indignant, ranted, "I must confront Schezwan Palace! They're using oranges in their tangerine chicken—tangerines are pricier, ergo superior!"
Raja and Leonard exchanged looks, smirking, "We're more worried about what they're calling 'chicken.'"
MAYA: "Master, you're in a geek zoo."
Before Sheldon could launch a lecture, Penny stormed in, fuming, and bee-lined for the window.
She flung it open, hurling an 80GB white iPod out, screaming, "Drop dead, you self-centered bastard!"
Spotting Raja, she collapsed onto his shoulder, fake-sobbing for effect. "What's the drama, blondie?" Raja asked, patting her like a puppy.
Penny spilled: her ex, Mike, had blogged their bedroom escapades online, no consent, all sleaze.
Howard, eyes gleaming, ditched Sheldon's lesson, muttering, "Gotta find that blog!" Raja's glare—pure menace—sent Howard scrambling back to Mandarin, whimpering, "Ni hao, Sheldon, let's continue!"
Raja's tone turned deadly serious, "Where's this Mike guy live, Penny?"
Her eyes widened at his FBI-level vibe, and she offered to guide him. "Stay close, drama queen," Raja said, winking.
They rolled up to Mike's dingy apartment, Raja motioning Penny to wait outside with a, "Follow my lead." He knocked, flashing a fake FBI consultant ID that screamed official.
Mike, a sweaty hipster, opened the door, paling at the badge. "Mr. Mike, I'm here about your blog—explicit posts about a girl named Penny," Raja said, voice like a guillotine.
Mike stammered, "It's just a blog, officer! No laws broken, right?"
Raja leaned in, reciting a litany of privacy laws and ethical codes, each word hitting Mike like a jab. "Blogging's fine, buddy, but spilling your girlfriend's secrets without consent?That's a crime."
Mike's face went ghost-white, sweat pooling.
Penny, Waiting on the corner got her keyword "Crime" from Raja, burst in, fuming, "Mike, you jerk! How dare you post that without asking me!"
Mike, already crumbling under Raja's glare, saw Penny and nearly fainted—caught red-handed by an "FBI agent."
Raja, poker-faced, turned to Penny, "Miss, I'm Agent Wyllt, FBI. Are you Penny, the girlfriend Mike blogged about explicitly?"
Penny, playing along, gasped, "Agent Wyllt, you read it too? He didn't ask consent before posting!Please Arrest this creep!"
Raja spun to Mike, voice dripping with drama, "Oh, Mr. Mike, posting about a lady without consent? You're in deep trouble. Cuffs time."
Mike, literally pissing his pants, dropped to his knees, snot and tears streaming, begging Penny, "Forgive me, please!"
Penny, relishing his groveling but keeping a neutral face, said, "Delete it all, Mike, or I'll see you in court."
Raja, pushing the theatrics, added, "Are you sure miss, you don't want charges? FBI's eyeing Mike as a potential serial killer—seduces women, blogs, then… who knows?"
Mike, hearing "serial killer," wet himself again, sobbing, "Penny, you know I'm not that guy! Officer, I swear!"
Raja pulled his Glock (unloaded, for show), smirking, "Mind if we check your place, Mike?"
Mike nodded like a bobblehead, trembling as Raja swept the apartment like a TV detective. He made Mike log into his accounts, delete the blog posts, and back up the evidence, warning, "Do this again, and it's jail time."
With an evil grin, Raja quipped, "Take care, Mr. Mike. Get that leaky bladder checked—with an urologist, stat." Mike collapsed, a puddle of regret.
Back in the car, Penny doubled over, laughing so hard she gasped for air. "Raja, you're a legend! And Thank you so much" she wheezed, wiping tears.
Raja, faking a pout, sighed, "Just a thank you? I was hoping for a reward."
Penny's eyes turned seductive, her smile pure mischief. "What kind reward you are excepting, Agent Wyllt?"
Raja smirked, Driving to a swanky hotel. They hit the suite, scrubbing each other in a steamy shower, ordering champagne and gourmet burgers.
Penny used new techniques on his pole and show casing Pole disappearing acts with her mouth that makes him feel new pleasures and edging him again and again.
Raja showed her same courtesy with his tongue, making her moan like crazy and edging like a Toy, then all night the room erupted in gasps and orgasmic cries, the headboard rattling like a jackhammer.
MAYA: "Master, you've turned a hotel into a war zone."
Next morning, Raja, sated and smug, decided it was time for a new adventure. Sprawled on the hotel bed, Penny snoring beside him, he muttered, "Time to soul transfer to the next movie world."
To Be Continued…