"Max, they're taking that kid!" Liz exclaimed.
"We have to save him," Max said, following them at a safe distance.
"Just don't think he's Zan."
"He's human, and he looks the right age."
"The only way would be if he looked like Tess, and he looked more like you. Children might change as they get older…"
"We're saving a child, Liz. No Biology lesson." Max said, stealthily snuck around and saw the captors entering the building. He waited until the door was completely closed to approach. He motioned to a broken window on a ledge above. When he touched Liz, she had a premonition.
"I saw him getting a hot poker to his chest. His screams were…"
Max hugged her briefly. "He's going to be okay." He found his way silently onto the tin ledge and they both perched, looking at the scene before them.
"Tell me where your father is," a voice said, testing a hot poker in a fire. Liz pointed to it.
"We can't do this right now. We have to know where to take him." Max nodded at her whisper. "But we should crash the party before that kid gets fried." Liz paused. "He's not Zan."
"I know. I just…"
"Want to repent what happened to Zan? I understand that, but we don't know anything about this kid. Max, you saved Zan's life. You should only save this kid because it's the right thing to do." She looked at him and he nodded; Liz could feel Max's heart break. Max knew that Liz was right: he did right by Zan and he would save this kid because it's what he should do because of what-who he is.
"Where is my father?" the boy asked. Max's heart broke even more.
"He's very far away. He's not here. I was hoping you would tell me where your father is." He continued poking the fire with the poker, and Liz's heart raced. "We know he works for the FBI."
Liz gasped and looked at Max. "Max, if we save this kid, we have to return him to his father, who could turn us in. They obviously hate him, so he must be important. And what if he knows about Agent Pierce or the Special Unit?"
"Liz, he's an innocent kid. They might figure us out, but we can't let this kid suffer. I'd rather give my life for this kid. He's important to someone," Max replied. "Too late. He has already taken the poker from the fire." He busted the window, and the captor put the poker to the window. Max slowly climbed down, helping Liz along the way.
"You aren't his parents, are you?" The captor said, looking thrilled.
"Leave the kid alone," Max warned.
"That's sweet. Do you even know him?"
"He's a kid. What kind of sick person does that?" He gestured to the white-hot poker.
"His father is near the top of the FBI list. But he's not there anymore. Something similar to a sabbatical, but not exactly that. Which means that he is somewhere in the world, and his son might know where."
"I'd rather break into the FBI than try to see where it is through torture. Unless there is something else that makes you want this kid? To get back at the father?" Liz offered. "What did he do to you?" she added at his silent nod.
"He brought down my friends."
"Serial killers? I don't blame him. Did you also break out of jail?" Max asked, staring at him intently.
"Why would I tell you this?"
"Just out of the interest of a wanted man to another."
"What did you do?"
"Alienation to an extreme." When the captor looked at him oddly, Max added, "Just a series of things that lead up to one, huge federal crime. I'm at the top of the list. Ask anyone in the FBI."
"Max, I don't think that's a good idea to tell that to a kid of the FBI," Liz advised softly.
"Special Agent Seeley Booth. Know him?"
"No, but I do know about people who don't exist, but are a part of the FBI," Max answered. "Back to the point, don't hurt…what's his name?"
"Parker Booth. Son of Special Agent Seeley Booth. He can tell me where his father is."
"He's just a frightened child. But I hear that Special Agents get really cranky when their sons get kidnapped." Max nodded pointedly, and many things happened at once. Liz jumped to protect the kid and hide his eyes from what Max would do. He then blasted the both of them, disintegrated the guns into a pipe nearby, and cooled the poker. "You can open your eyes, Parker. And not you, Liz."
Liz snorted softly, took out a knife, and freed the child before backing away from him and asking him, "Can I carry you?" The child nodded silently. Liz picked him up and began to walk out in front of Max. "I know this might look a little weird," she said, "but don't say anything." She carried them the five blocks to the car, insisting on carrying him all the way. She strapped the now-sleeping child into the seat before entering the car. "What do we do now?"
"We now take him to the FBI and take him to his father," Max said, looking anxious.
Temperance Brennan was doing her job well. She had just finished examining a body when a familiar number appeared on her phone: FBI. "Brennan," she answered.
"You are to take a flight to Afghanistan," the voice said, sounding concerned.
"To see Booth? I'm in the middle of an anthropologic investigation."
"He trusts you. You need to send a message to him."
"I'm not a postal service. I am the head of the anthropologic investigation here. There is no way that I can just up and leave."
"You're replaceable to them, or kind of. But you aren't replaceable to Booth. He'll trust that your information will be correct."
"It won't matter if I tell him the source."
"But he might be more comforted by the fact that it has been told by a friend."
"Besides, no one has jurisdiction on an army base outside of the country. I won't be able to get in."
"There are supposedly remains that have been there unstudied. You're going to study those remains while sharing some information with him."
"He's not FBI now."
"It's more personal. His son has been kidnapped."
"I said I wasn't a postal service. Especially not one of bad news."
"You're going to do this." And the phone clicked with a hang-up.
Bones looked out at the site and sighed. She knew that she would have to do this. It was wrong to see him before when they said they would, by the coffee cart. But she knew she had to do it because the voice on the phone was right; Booth would be more comfortable hearing it from her rather than from an FBI robot. Her phone buzzed, and she opened it; it was a flight number and time. She sighed, realizing she had four hours until the flight would leave. She sighed again to wash out her feelings and decided that she would go. She hurriedly rushed into her tent and began to pack her things.
She saw the frightened child, wondering what they were going to do in the dim light of the shady apartment. "Max, you shouldn't have told him about us. Now he thinks we kidnapped him from the other people, and we can't waltz into the FBI, even with a rescued kid of a former FBI agent. So, what do we do?"
"We get straight to the father, and then he might be able to get us off that list if we can prove to him that the person who took out the Special Unit was our protector."
"A protector who kills?"
"Kills for us. We have to prove that we aren't dangerous."
"Liz, I'd rather still be on that list before I use a kid as a bargaining chip. Especially one who has just been tortured. We need to find the father. He's in danger, and we are supposed to help people and avoid FBI attention."
"So, we are supposed to avoid FBI attention by helping one of them?" Liz looked at the peacefully sleeping child wonderingly.
"We can ask the son where his father is after gaining his trust."
"How long will that take?" Liz looked back at her husband tiredly.
"Good point. But I don't want this agent to die, even if he's on the wrong side."
"Is that just for the kid to tell his father?" Liz asked, lowering her voice further.
"No, Liz. We have to help this father and this kid."
"He's FBI. Max, he's going to constantly be in danger."
"If this is a bunch of serial killers, the least we can do is protect them from the serial killers and then move away from DC forever. We won't be able to come back."
"So, how long are we going to stay here?" Liz asked, looking at him.
"Until we get all of them. Let's not tell Michael."
"Tell me what?" Michael asked, biting an apple.
"Your move," Liz answered, moving to check the waking child.
Bones looked at the scene before her, almost hiding at the back of the training tent. She saw a form that she could do herself. She waited anxiously for path to clear, fighting back tears. When someone brought attention to her, she took a deep breath and faced him. His face had worry and anger on it.
"You said you'd hug me if you were scared. Now's the time." She walked up to him with big strides. "I was sent from the FBI to be the bearer of bad news." He enveloped her and she swallowed harshly. "Parker has been kidnapped," she whispered into his ear, covering her mouth so the persons behind him couldn't see. He hugged her closer and whispered. "My tent, ten minutes. Get directions," he pulled away, "unless you can use anthropology to find it."
"Using the usual format of an army base and knowing that the admiral or general of this base will be on the left or right, leaving the next in command as bait in the center. That's you."
"She's good." At Booth's insistent glare, he added, "Sir."
Bones could see impatience but left and went to the tent to wait out the ten minutes.
"Did the FBI rope you into this?" Bones looked at him and he continued. "Bones, you know how to get out of this situation. There must be another reason why you came."
"You know that I don't like psychology. I made it here to look at some rumored remains. But the FBI truly sent me here to tell me that your son is missing. It was reported two days ago, and he hadn't been seen twelve hours before that."
"Who reported it?"
"Rebecca. She said that she went out to get something while leaving Parker at school. The last time he was seen was by his teacher. He disappeared from his school." She stood up in case he wanted a hug, but she stood awkwardly next to his camp bed.
"Rebecca did this?" He took shallow breaths and could barely talk.
"Booth, it's no one's fault."
"I would blame myself if I was in the same position. Hell, I would blame you!" He began to pace.
"I'm so sorry." She began to exit, fighting back tears. He lunged forward and wrapped his arms around her waist. "The FBI wants me to go back and see what I can find. They found a body of a boy and he might have been killed the same way." Her voice was unconvincing to him, even though it was level.
"Oh, God."
"They want me to go back and investigate with another FBI agent. And then I'll return to my trip."
He let her go and she turned around. "Find my son," he said, almost as if a growl. She recognized it when cases got too personal.
"There's something else. I got some strings pulled so that you can be at home during the investigation. I'll keep you informed all the way."
"What about the bones here?"
"There aren't any. I've been here a couple of days; avoiding you. I've searched all over the place, but there aren't any remains, so I have to leave. You have two hours to pack and then we leave for home."
"You hid from me?"
"Booth, I'll explain on the plane."
"No, now!" Bones finally shuddered at his words.
"I would have to leave when I told you because I knew you'd go back anyway. So I had to wait until I confirmed there were no remains. Get packed." She left running, sobbing.