"FBI!" Booth burst out, breaking into the house of notorious criminal; "Christopher Pelant, you're under arrest!"
"Oh, God, what's now?" he rolled his eyes and lowered his legs from the table; "I didn't do anything, agent Booth. I'm afraid you've made a mistake again."
"Get up, faster," Seeley didn't want to endure his ludicrous excuses; "I'm going to listen it all during your interrogation, so please, just clam up, give me a favor, my head aches since the early morning."
Pelant gritted his teeth, screwed up eyes and bunched his fists, he even shook his head jumpy, but he embraced and let the agent clapped handcuffs on him. Amazing, he's held out a week without a new criminal record.
"You're mistaking, agent Booth," a spooky chuckle flew out of his mouth; "And you don't even understand, how seriously."
"What, really?" he mocked, pushing him forward the door; "Go straight, you, a damned hackerman."
"I am a hacktivist," the murderer corrected offendedly.
"I don't care if you're Hammurabi or what-is-his-name... Gilgamesh."
"Wow, you might be good at history with such great knowledges..."
"Well, I'll take that as a compliment."
Seeley got Pelant out from his house and put him on the back seat so proudly as an obedient dog that brought a stick to its owner. He closed the door brutally as usual in movies about cool cops.
"And what exactly did I do? Don't you want to explain?" Christopher said to the limit politely, when the agent got behind the wheel and fastened the safety belt.
"That's what I need to ask you," he snarled; "Think you can erase all the information, and it's in the bag? Christopher Pelant doesn't exist anymore? No, you've always been him and you always will be, and you're about to answer for your actions very soon."
"You're talking to me like a cartoon character," he laughed.
"Shut your mouth and don't make me angry," - the federal agent pushed the gas pedal, turned the steering wheel, and his car rushed forward.
"So rude," the criminal couldn't deny him the satisfaction of leaving the last word, although he really didn't going to sound confrontation. A thought that Booth would swerve into the highway at any time, stop somewhere on the sidelines and beat him half to death or deprive him all his teeth seemed unpleasant to him. It wasn't letting him say his prepared standoffish humor.
"And what allegations are waiting for me now?" Pelant gave up after a few minutes of silence. Ignoring was the worst and hardest trial for him.
"There're so much of them, trust me. Enough to go you to jail for a lifetime. But, honestly, I'm assured you deserve more."
"Want me to confess in a crime and get a life imprisonment? You know, to hell with this."
"As you wish. We have evidences anyway," he shrugged with a frank indifference.
"I guess I've heard it already."
"Go ahead, you have got a time until we arrive in the department. What, those beating wasn't enough?"
"Absolutely not. And what, that blowup you got from your boss afterwards wasn't enough, too?"
"Such a long-tongued asshole," Seeley muttered inwardly; "I'd like to choke him with my own hands."
"You can be sure, Mr "computer brains", It's in the hands of grown-ups this time."
"Oh, we'll see.."
Grated his teeth due to the surge of anger, Booth has slammed the brakes rapidly. He has got really tired of his antics during those long years of fear and desperate struggle, got tired of his smirk, his soft voice ad nauseam, which doesn't sound pleasant, taking into account the personality of its owner. As a result Christopher hit his face on the drivers seat. He couldn't even do anything to avoid it because his arms were chained strongly behind his back, but nobody strapped him to the seat. And the agent didn't care about how many laws has he broken by his deed; his fury was requiring any kind of vengeance.
"Oops," he said with a fake regret, enjoying distorted by pain and a silent rage criminal's face; "Seems like my leg has come off by accident. What's a pity!"
"Nice try, let's count I appreciated it," the hacker smiled with efforts, swallowing his own blood that was draining to his throat from the broken nose; "It seems we are both feel comfortable playing between conventional notes. Turns out, I'm not the one who sins this way."
Seeley noticed the consequences of his deed, looked at him in the mirror, and he has mused for a while that maybe he crossed the line. A bit.
"I can afford it. In contrast to you, I don't play bloody cat-and-mouse with police."
"Is it my fault that I always win?"
This time Booth forced himself to keep silent, but Pelant who was hopped-up by a painful beat, didn't want to be packed in emotions and nasty jokes anymore.
"I hope that your behavior with Temperance is more acceptable. She'll never bear it if she knows what her man does behind her back, remaining without a control of her high heel."
Booth caught his breath, his heart started to beat faster. He grabbed the wheel, squeeze him as strong as he could, and after that exhaled nervously, letting all the oxygen out from his lungs. But, to the surprise of Christopher, he only stared at him through the reflection, showing this way all possible hate. The criminal answered on it with a wide eerie smile and after that he's gone silent and turned to the window blatantly, watching as they were riding fast along the highway. He had to throw his head up to not to let the blood running down on his clothes.
The weather was gloomy, stuffy, without a hint of wind; the sky was filled with dark clouds, but the rain wasn't predicted. Bright fresh greens made up a contrast to the boring gray asphalt. Cars were rushing past, motorcyclists with a frantic roar of engines were pulling ahead, and the entire right-hand lane was occupied by trucks.
While the hacker was looking at the picturesque view aimlessly, emotions within Seeley couldn't blow out. Not finding a way out, they were accumulating quickly, growing like a giant snowball, and someday this should've come to a limit. From now on, all the insults seemed more rude and offensive to him. Or rather, not so much offensive as deserving of an appropriate response. Before detention he's hardly slept and barely found a time to drink a strong coffee on an empty stomach in the morning, so that he had a bad day. And now he was just sure he would be changed with a "cruel beating in the car's interior".
"So, where are we going? Again in your lovely federal bureau of investigation?" Pelant asked without any shadow of his famous sarcasm, calmly and wearily a bit, not meaning a hidden sense or will to offend anyone, but exactly these words became a boiling point for Booth.
"Listen to me, asshole," he said it loudly and menacing, and by the reason of if the criminal got wide-eyed and even opened his mouth a little; "If you think you can get away scot-free, fuckhead, you damn mistake!"
"Hey, hey!" Christopher resented, but it was too late; "Don't talk with me that way! You don't have right."
"No, listen, listen to me, bastard," from now on, Booth has barely controlled himself. He was pushing the gas pedal automatically, while he looked at the hacker in the mirror or turned to him; "You've been killing people. People who served their country. And if there's a small possibility for me to achieve the death penalty for you, I swear you, I'll..."
"Watch out!" Pelant suddenly yelled, noticed in terror they skipped ahead the traffic light on the red signal and popped out on the lively junction.
Seeley has looked forward and put his leg off from the pedal, but it was impossible to avoid a tragedy: a long sound, typical for massive trucks or for similar cars, was heard somewhere from the left side, and after that was a powerful collision that completely knocked out the windows and crushed the corpus of a car mercilessly. There was a metal scraping and a shrill screech of brakes. The driver of the truck that has rammed the crossover at high speed, was desperately trying to stop the multiton vehicle as soon as he could, but it became possible to do only after tens of meters.
And all of a sudden everything went quiet for a moment. Time seemed to freeze, capturing in a cool air the petrified sights of everybody who became a witness to this horrendous crash. The traffic has been stopped, and a truck that wasn't overturned miraculously, crossing double white lines and closed several strips in a row, was going to create a traffic jam a few kilometers long. People immediately moved out to the sidelines, turned on the emergency signals on their cars, jumped out, grabbing the first-aid kits from the trunks, and rushed headlong for help to the victims. The hood of the jeep, deformed beyond recognition, was blowing exhaust, and its smoke mixed with a gray, gloomy sky, one of the wheels flew away far to the side. A billion fragments of the smallest shredded glass covered the place of the tragedy, fresh blood was spreading under them, but the ill-fated traffic light was continuing to blinking mockingly, switching to a bright green. Eyewitnesses were calling an ambulance at the same time, overloading the cellular line, the most brave of them approached the car and tried to find inside at least some signs of life. The driver jumped to the ground from the high cabin of the truck and grabbed his head: he was shaking, and his eyes seemed distracted, his sight couldn't focus on anything. His DVR has probably captured enough to deny his guilt in what happened, but it didn't make it any easier.
A few people have finally opened the door on the opposite side, not waiting for the ambulance, but not everyone could transfer what they've seen and, what is more, pull the bloody bodies out from the car until it blows up. Someone even had a gag reflex, which was quite normal in this situation. Precious minutes for the lives of both men were going by, and soon the lights of the ambulance, the police, and the long leisurely evacuator have flashed everywhere. But, despite the efforts of qualified paramedics and the best resuscitation equipment, one of the victims stopped breathing...