Booth relaxed his head against his palm, the drone of his superiors the only thing binding him to reality. He had no idea why he had been called in now of all times, Bones and him had an open case at the moment. He smiled affectionately. Bones had insisted that she should have a talk with his superiors, let them know how she felt about their horrendous timing, just when he was about to get "federal on their suspect's ass."

Suddenly, the conversation shifted focus to him and he shot up at the sound of his name being ground through clenched teeth. "Agent Booth!"

"Yes sir."

"This man I have been speaking too has a very important matter to discuss with you, straight from the White House."

Booth stood up straight, cleared his throat and shook the man's hand. "Special Agent Seeley Booth, sir."

"Scott Paring, General of the Army." He was a rough-looking man; an air of callousness mingled with his impenetrable stature. Booth's eyes widened with surprise. The highest ranking man in the army, six stars, wanted to speak with him.

"It is an honor to meet you General."

The tall man sat down in his chair, gesturing for Booth to do the same.

"Agent Booth, I understand you were in the army, a Ranger, is that correct?"

"Yes sir." Booth's curiosity was peaked.

"A lieutenant General. You have an impressive record of successful missions, 48 completed with flying colors."

Booth flinched as the terrifying memories of his day as a sniper came flooding back. "Thank you sir, but I was only doing my duty, serving my country. I took no pleasure in those missions."

"Really?" The general sounded taken aback by his admittance.

"That is correct sir." The general leaned back in his chair and sighed sadly.

"Son, on your resignation papers you added that you would be willing to serve your country in what ever means the military saw fit."

"Yes, sir, I wrote that and meant it at that time. When they placed me in the FBI I knew it was my duty to live up to their expectations and have been doing so since."

The general nodded in agreement, but his demeanor soon turned serious.

"Agent Booth, you have been called upon by the highest authorities of this country. Your expertise is needed once more in a time of crisis."

"What!" Booth stood up, his heart beating faster. "Sir, in all seriousness, I can not go back out there."

"Agent Booth, I understand you're upset, but please sit down." Booth sat down nervously, fear clouding his eyes.

"I wish there was another way son, I really do, but the fate of our country is depending on this mission. The president needs your duties elsewhere."

"I was 24 when I wrote that sir! Hot-headed, angry, no family, no friends, no one I loved! That's changed. I have all of that now! You're sending me out there into that death hole because of what I wrote almost ten years ago!" Booth was standing once more, his anger and desperation apparent in his tone.

The General, not one to show emotion, was breaking inside for the Agent's dire plight. "I am so sorry Agent Booth, but you have no choice in the matter." Booth sunk down into the chair and rested his forehead against the conference table. "The mission is extremely dangerous. I myself don't know where or what you are to perform, but you are not to tell anyone about our meeting or your mission. It is confidential. The most crucial factor is that you must carry on about your day, like nothing has changed."

A bitter, hollow laugh tumbled from Booth's pale lips. "You . . . you're sending me on a suicide mission and expect me to just carry on about my day . . . like nothing's changed."

"I never said it was a suicide mission Agent Booth."

"You didn't have to, General." Booth spat out.

"I'm going to take your emotions in to consideration and not reprimand you for speaking to your superior in that tone. There must be no goodbyes, nothing out of the ordinary, for your country's sake," A strangled gasp filled the air. "A military vehicle will be waiting at 3:00a.m. tomorrow morning at Jerry's Café. Letter's will be delivered about your disappearance that morning to anyone who you feel necessary."

"Tomorrow . . . that's to soon . . . I . . ." Booth was on the verge of fainting.

The General placed a warm hand on Booth's shoulder, whispering bravely, "Rangers lead the way, Booth."