A/N: This chapter is full of missing scenes from last chapter

"Anton wants his money, Mr. Lewis," a thickly accented voice came through the speaker phone, "Miss Olga was a rare find. Willing and beautiful. And we took care of things for you. Surely you understand?"

"I do," John Lewis said. He sat in his law firm conference room, away from the rest of the office cubicles, "I need a little more time to get my payment together though. My money is tied up in stocks and it takes time. Don't worry, Victor. Mr. Igorovich will get his payment."

Victor's loud sigh came through the speaker situated on the table. Lewis was startled from his seat as he heard a knock on the door. Two men stood outside the door. One held a badge to the small window and then opened the door.

"I'll call you back," Lewis said, reaching for the speaker.

"Wait! Anton will not-" another voice said over the phone, but it was cut short as Lewis ended the call.

"Can I ask what is so important that you had to interrupt my call?" Lewis spat.

"I'm Agent Seeley Booth. This is Agent Teddy Parker. We're with the FBI. We have some information about your wife."

The room grew silent again while the agents waited for some sort of reaction from the man.

"Okay. And?" Lewis asked impatiently.

"She's dead," Teddy told him blatantly.

"Dead? You mean she didn't run away? She didn't go back to Leningrad?"

"It's called Saint Petersburg now," Booth informed the lawyer.

"Whatever. When did she die?"

"About four days ago," Teddy said.

"How?"

"Gunshot."

"Where did you find her?"

"In the Potomac."

"Hmm," Lewis said, "Well, thank you for updating me. I'll make the arrangements for her body to be sent back to Russia to her family."

Lewis ushered them out of the conference room without another word. He pulled his phone out and called a number he had programmed to his speed-dial.

"Like I was saying before, Mr. Lewis," Victor greeted when he answered the phone, "Anton will not tolerate a late payment."

"Yeah, well you didn't do too good of a job on picking out the girl and apparently, you didn't do a good job of getting rid of her either."

"What do you mean?"

"FBI was just here. Agents Booth and Parker. They found her body!"

"Well, they won't trace it back to us. And let me worry about the cops. You just get the payment together for Anton before I have to dispose of your body as well."

It was getting late and Drew's first day of kindergarten was just round the corner, making Bren feel proud and sad all at once. She couldn't believe how fast time had passed. Raising Clara was completely different from raising Drew. There weren't as many messes, pink was the preferred color instead of blue and Booth and Bren didn't have to worry about being used for target practice during diaper changes. Princesses were friends and footballs were not first choice play things. But, she was a Booth, so the rough and tumble boy lifestyle Drew had reflected on her. Clara's princess dolls played baseball and liked to roll in the mud. Her pink crayons only highlighted the greens and blues that dominated her pictures that hung on the fridge and in Booth and Bren's offices.

"Drew, I need you to go get your pajamas on and brush your teeth to get ready for bed. Clara and I will come up shortly."

"Okay, Mom!" Bren could hear him run up the stairs, attempting to skip steps like he had seen his father do so many times before.

"Mommy?" They were sitting at the kitchen table, Drew and Clara had both been working on new drawings for the fridge while Bren finished paperwork and waited for Booth to come home.

"What is it?"

"Do you like it? It's me and you at the lab!"

Bren smiled and looked over her daughter's handiwork. "It's gorgeous, Clara. Should we put it on the fridge?"

"Take it to the lab!"

"I will. Let's put it on the fridge for now, so Daddy can see it when he comes home." Brennan put the picture on the freezer door and promised Clara that she would show Booth if he got home past her bedtime.

There was a knock on the front door and the solid thumping sound was enough to make both Bren and Clara jump. It was late, too late for normal visitors, and that thought alone made Bren's stomach churn. She instructed Clara to go upstairs with her brother and listened for her daughter's footsteps before answering the door.

"Can I help you?" she asked the two burly men on the other side of the threshold.

"I'm sorry to bother you so late, ma'am," one man spoke first, "But we're looking for an Agent Booth."

"May I ask why?" She noticed the accent the man had and spoke to him in his native language. Her Russian was slightly rusty, but she must've pronounced everything correctly. The two men looked slightly shocked at her words but replied to her in their dialect.

"We're colleagues. There are some issues we have on a couple of open cases and we need his help."

"Mommy?" Drew and Clara stood on the steps at about midway, clad in their PJs and looking ready to be tucked in.

"Go back upstairs," Bren told them, trying not to look scared. Her gut told her something was wrong, but she wasn't the one in the family who believed in gastrointestinal intelligence. She turned back to their visitors and that was where things went downhill. One man tackled her to the ground, while the other tried to step around them to get to Drew and Clara.

"Kids, go hide!" Panic rolled over her and her fight-or-flight response kicked in. She wrestled with the man and tried to trip up his companion to distract him from her kids. Drew took Clara by the hand and pulled her toward the kitchen.

"Mom, where?" Drew called back. There was no evident panic in his voice. She didn't know if that made her worry more or less. Booth's courage was obviously a passed down straight to Drew, but she was concerned he'd try to be the hero. Clara, on the other hand, had the most horrified look on her face. She was focused on the fight her mother was putting up and she clung to Drew like a magnet.

"Put Clara where she can fit and then hide where Dad told you not to!" She fought off both men as best as she could, but they were stronger and she was outnumbered. Drew dragged his sister into the kitchen and opened a low cabinet. Drew pushed away pots and pans and told Clara to get in. The small girl did what Drew said, but began to sob when he started putting the dishes back in front of her.

"No! Drew, stay!" She reached back out for him and tried kicking the pans away.

"I can't fit in there! Be quiet and don't come out until Mommy says so."

Drew tried closing the door but she pushed it back open and cried for him to stay with her. As much as he wanted to stay, there was no way both Drew and Clara could fit in the small cabinet.

"Clara, please. I'll come back if I can't fit in my spot anymore." Drew knew it was a lie, but his old hide and go seek spot wasn't big enough for the both of them either. But his words calmed her and her sobs quieted. He ran off and climbed into the storage closet. He shut the door behind him and wiggled in between boxes. It was dark in the closet and the dust made him want to cough, but he swallowed hard and breathed into his sleeve. Drew had to stop himself when he heard Clara's cries come through the wall.

"No, Clara, shh," he whispered to himself. He wanted to run to calm her down, but Mom told them to hide and he hated to break the rules. The door opened and Drew stopped breathing when he heard the men speak. The door closed again and he waited for his Mom to tell him it was safe to come out.

Bren was yelling at the men in Russian and using her skills from the self-defense and karate classes she took in college. She distracted them as much as she could, but when the bigger of the two attackers got control of her, she was powerless to stop the other. The man searched some more obvious hiding spots a small child would pick before looking deeper. She tried not to show her fear when he opened the storage closet, but breathed slightly easier when he closed the door.

The man she had determined to be Victor was going through the cabinets now and sheer terror tore through Brennan when he found what he was looking for. He tossed the pots and pans aside and reached back to pull Clara from her spot.

"Mommy!"

Brennan, with the force of pure adrenaline, brought down the man who had a hold on her by taking out his knees. While her captor, Pavel, was down for the count, Bren lunged for Clara. The little girl was wriggling in Victor's arms.

"I didn't want to do this, Dr. Brennan," Victor said in English. From the back waistband of his pants, he pulled a small nine millimeter gun and pointed it right at Clara's head, but then swiftly turned the gun back on Bren.

"You don't want your little girl to watch her mommy die, do you?" And without waiting for a response from her, Victor pistol whipped her and an unconscious Bren lay bleeding on the floor. Pavel picked her up, followed Victor and Clara out the front door and to the waiting van to take them away.

Booth was surprised when Teddy pulled up to their house three hours later to see the kitchen lights still on. He said goodbye to his partner and walked up the front steps, expecting an argument from his wife. But the door was wide open and the first thing he saw was the blood spatter on the floor.

"Bren! Clara?"