Shattering Secrets

by DianneRose2016

Sweets has a past that no one expected. When a case comes up that brings Sweets' past to the team they are about to find out that their Psychologist is much more than they ever expected him to be. Booth is rocked by an even bigger secret from Sweets' past that he never expected. With this new information Booth is determined to not only keep Sweets alive and finally start living.

3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

It was eight in the morning when Booth headed up to Sweets' apartment. Caroline had been able to get twenty bodies exhumed while she was still working on the other court orders. All of the bodies were sent to the Jeffersonian to be examined by Bones and her team. Booth went over there yesterday to explain the situation and he figured they were all excited at the idea of working a serial killer case with this many bodies. They were all very interested and intrigued being on the case and see if they could confirm the theory or not. Bones was going to have her two best interns working with her on this constantly until they were able to get the number down on the remains. There was supposed to be fifty cases coming their way plus more if Sweets found any more cases. This was looking to be a huge project and they would need to be careful and work quickly to get it solved before any more bodies turned up.

Booth knocked on the door and waited for Sweets to answer. He had sent him a text this morning so he knew that he would be coming by to pick up any of the files. After a moment Sweets opened the door and Booth was shocked to find him dressed. He was wearing black jeans, a black t-shirt and his black leather jacket with his converse shoes once again. Sweets stepped back to let Booth in as Booth spoke.

"Why are you dressed?"

"I'm coming with you." Sweets simply stated as he went into the kitchen to take his anti-biotic with a drink of his coffee.

"You should be in bed Sweets not out in the Jeffersonian all day."

"No one knows this case better than me. If I'm right you are going to need me. This guy has alluded the police and all of the ABC Agencies for sixty years. I've already done a profile on him from before. You need me."

"Fine, but you are sitting for most of the day. I mean it Sweets you can't push yourself with this. You have six broken ribs not to mention the other injuries. You need to be taking it easy."

"I know I'll be fine. I went through the rest of Agent Anderson's case files and I was able to find two hundred and ten other cases he worked where a red devil's face was painted on a wall. A total of two hundred and sixty which matches the one a week scenario."

"Damn. How many are in jail?"

"Including the seventeen we found, seventy-three. I guess we should be happy that Agent Anderson really sucks as an Agent and getting convictions. I won't know until I can get more case files from him in previous years to see how long this has been going on for. If it sticks to Romani's MO then it's only been going on for five years and Agent Anderson is soon going to be killed for a new Agent to take his place."

"Hacker is watching him and I'll call him and have him place some protection on Anderson. I'll also request for more case files going back another five years to be on the safe side. Let's hit the road you ready?"

"Ya." Sweets grabbed his keys while Booth grabbed the two paper boxes that were filed with case files and they headed out. Sweets locked the door and they made their way to the small elevator as Sweets spoke.

"I was thinking we should look back at any Agents that were killed five years ago and see their case files. If this is Romani or someone close enough to stick to the MO that Agent will have similar case files. There could be more innocent people in jail."

"But this guy died four years ago you said right?"

"No I got brought in for a profile four years ago, two years ago he apparently died."

"So going back five years he could have been the one behind this for the first three years, but these last two someone else has to of taken over. Or he is still alive." Booth said as they got off the elevator and headed for his SUV.

"Basically. And if that is the scenario, that he is dead, whoever took up the mantle had to be very close to him."

Booth put the two boxes in the back seat as they got into the SUV. He started it as he spoke.

"Wait four years ago you were brought in for a profile, you were nineteen at the time. Why would you be doing a high-classified profile for the FBI while in school?"

"I wasn't exactly a normal nineteen year old. I was in the middle of getting my second doctorate when the FBI approached me. They didn't know who to trust within the FBI with this so they went outside for a profiler. I was top of my class and my background was clean."

"Right I forgot that you have two doctorates. How old were you when you first started?"

"Why, you writing a book on me?" Sweets lightly joked.

"No I was just curious. It's not exactly a personal question Sweets. You know some things about me and I don't really know anything about you."

"I was your therapist it's my job to know things about you and Dr. Brennan. I had to read your files and add in my own notes. It's natural for me to know things about you both."

"I get that Sweets, but I'd like to know things about you. I don't need to know your darkest secrets but something would be nice."

"I was fourteen when I began University. I started working for the FBI as a psychologist the day before you and Dr. Brennan became my patients."

"Oh so we were your first?" Booth asked as he didn't know Sweets had just started.

"You were."

"Did you have your own practice before?"

"No I got hired by the FBI right out of school. They offered me a position with them to help their Agents and I could still see my own patients. It made sense to be hired by an outside source and still be able to charge my own patients an hourly rate. I had to make sure the Agents were taken care of first."

"Did you always want to work for the FBI?"

"Never thought about it. They approached me and I agreed to it. I've always wanted to help people and the FBI offered me a place where I could help Agents overcome their traumas they have experienced and help create profiles to put criminals behind bars. I've always believed that people can be saved if good people help them. The FBI seemed like the best place where I could help a great deal of good people. Why did you pick the FBI over other practices and Agencies?"

"Seemed like a logical move. The FBI allowed me the opportunity to still be in the field and stop the bad guys. I get to still serve my country. With my service in the Army I didn't have to go through the academy just a serious of tests to prove I'm capable to handle the physical aspect of the job. It fit for me after being at war."

"You served for eight years right?"

"Officially I did, but I also went back over when they absolutely needed me. Since I've been out of the Army I've gone back eight times."

"I know this isn't the best time for this, but I have to do your psych evaluation. Is anything bothering you? Nightmares? Problems at work?"

"Really you want to do this now?"

"Figured it was better to do it now then back at my office for an hour."

"I'm good Sweets. What about you?"

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine Sweets. Even if you weren't attacked you aren't fine."

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"You haven't exactly been living Sweets. There's nothing personal in your apartment. You barely have any food in there. It's depressing, your apartment is depressing and you know that. That's not what a healthy person's place looks like and if that was an apartment of one of your patients you would say the exact same thing."

"I haven't had much time to move in fully. And I'm hardly there. I'm at work most hours in the day. When I do go to the apartment I usually bring takeout with me and work on reports before I go to sleep. There's nothing to read into." Sweets said slightly defensive.

"The apartment? Not home? The apartment." Booth said with a slight concern.

"What?" Sweets asked confused.

"You called it the apartment. You didn't call it your home."

"It's just a place to live. You don't need to read into it Agent Booth."

"I think for a Shrink that is one hell of a thing to say. How long have you lived there?"

"Why does it matter?" Sweets asked slightly annoyed, but Booth didn't take offense.

"I think you know why it matters. You know I was abused by my father growing up. Why didn't you say anything Sweets?"

"I wasn't abused by my father so how would it be relevant?"

"It doesn't have to be your father Sweets. You still knew how I felt about it. You could have used it as a way to connect and get me to open up about it like other Shrinks would have done."

"You saw me as a certain type that fit into your view of someone my age and someone in my profession. All you saw was a twenty-two year old Shrink nothing else mattered after that. You were never going to talk about anything personal or difficult no matter what I said. Besides that fact, I don't like talking about it, I don't talk about it. I wasn't about to try and force you to talk about it. It wasn't my place to talk to you about your childhood. I was there to make sure you and Dr. Brennan's partnership was holding together after you arrested her father. There was no other reason for you to even be there."

"What I don't need therapy?"

"Not in my opinion. Therapy is meant for people with mental issues from biological reasons such as Bi-Polar Disorder and other mental health issues. It's meant for people who have gone through horrific trauma and they can't function with everyday life. You, like most Federal Agents or soldiers, have found a way to overcome what you have experienced in your life. Originally it was gambling, but you were able to overcome that and replace it with a positive outlet for the horrors that you have experienced on the job and as a soldier. You are able to have a positive relationship with a woman. You don't need therapy Agent Booth. On the occasion you need to talk to a third party to work something out, but that is human nature. Everyone has the need to talk to someone at some point in their life and it's easier to do so with a third party. Someone that holds no judgement and is understanding is generally easier to talk to when dealing with a personal problem. You and Dr. Brennan have a solid partnership which gives you the ability to have someone there to talk to about the harder emotions and memories of your childhood or casework. You both are fine in the grand scheme of things."

"Huh and here I would have thought you would have made some connection to my father and why I would need therapy to move passed it all."

"You're not the only Agent in the FBI to be abused by a parent. The statistic is actually the other way around. Not all extreme, but abuse none-the-less. Your anger towards your father is justified after what he did to you. I'm angry at my father and I don't even know him. You don't let your anger towards your father cloud your judgement with potential subjects or cases. If it did then you would be required to be in therapy. When I press in a session about a topic or a comment it's not because I think you both need professional help it's because I know there is something there that needs to be talked about. It's not healthy to keep certain things bottled up inside of you, because one day the person always explodes and either hurts themselves or someone else. I don't want that to happen to anyone. So I push to try and get the other person to see that there is something that needs to be worked out. It doesn't have to be worked out with me, but it needs to be worked out so you can take on more cases and continue to be mentally and emotionally healthy. It's what I want for everyone and all of my patients."

"I know all you want to do is help people. It's why people become Shrinks, to help people. But who helps you Sweets? You told the doctor that you didn't have any family and you had no friends. So who is there for you when you need to talk?"

"I'm a trained Psychologist I can work through my own problems. I have the training for it."

"You can't just talk to yourself Sweets. You need someone else to talk to, to bounce ideas off of, to vent. You went to multiple Universities, how do you not have any friends from that? You must have at least one friend."

"I was younger than everyone in University and not well liked because of it and because I was smarter than them. I work a lot so I don't socialize outside of work and any socializing in work doesn't tend to go well due to the same reasons from University. I'm used to it."

"That's a sad way to live Sweets. You get up in the morning, you go to work, you spend all your time at work, then you go home with takeout do more work, sleep and then do it all over again. That's not living Sweets. You know that. You would tell any patient the same thing. You're twenty-four you should be living your life and not working yourself to death. Especially with the job you have. You might not see what I see every day, but you help with profiles for different Agents. You still see death and pain. You need an outlet away from that or you'll be the one that explodes."

"I play poker sometimes."

"Gambling, really not a great outlet Sweets."

"I'm not addicted to it Agent Booth. I can go and play a few hands of poker in the month and have no problem walking away from it."

"You any good?"

"Very good. Paid for my schooling with it."

"You played while in school?"

"I did. I had to make money somehow."

"You couldn't get a job?"

"Just minimum wage and it wasn't enough to cover living expenses while in College and then University. I was younger remember." Sweets said as they pulled into the Jeffersonian parking lot.

"Wait you were fourteen. How did you play poker? In the dorms?"

"No underground poker dens." Sweets answered as he removed his seatbelt and got out of the SUV.

"Hold up right now. Underground poker dens?" Booth asked as he got out of the car and grabbed the boxes.

"Ya you know the type that don't check for ID. It worked well. I've always been very good at telling when someone was lying, always been observant."

"Clearly I have made many wrong assumptions about you. You have levels Sweets." Booth said as they walked to the main door.

"What do you mean?" Sweets asked confused.

"I mean you have different depths to who you are. On the surface you come across as a Shrink kid who hasn't experienced anything horrible in life. But that's just the image you put on in the morning. That's your professional image, but it's not the full picture of you. You have levels. Illegal poker den playing levels. Levels that we will be talking about more eventually. I'm going to discover them all."

"Why does it matter? You don't like me or respect what I do. Why does it matter what levels I have?" Sweets simply asked like it wasn't a painful topic.

"I never said I don't like you. I made some bad judgements on you that was biased and for that I'm sorry. I respect what you do Sweets. I don't like when you shrink me, but I do respect what you are capable of doing. You're profiles have helped put murderers behind bars. You helped locate a missing child just last week. I respect what you do even though I don't know how you do it. I'm sorry for making you think and feel like I don't like you or respect you." Booth said as he stopped to face Sweets.

"It's fine." Sweets said with a shrug as he reached to open the door and held it open for Booth.

"I'm here Sweets if you ever need to talk." Booth said as he looked at Sweets before he walked through the door.

"I appreciate that."

Sweets followed Booth through the Jeffersonian and headed to the main lab where the others would be. They walked through the door and saw that everyone was on the platform working on the bodies. Bones had called in Clark and Wendell to help her with the bones. Booth put the two paper boxes down on the platform so they could be looked at later. He would normally do it in his office, but due to the nature of the case it was better to be doing it here where he didn't have to worry about anyone see the files.

"Dr. Sweets you should be at home resting and not here in the lab." Bones said as she saw Sweets.

"Ya man, you need rest." Hodgins said.

"I'm fine." Sweets said.

"Bones, what do you got for me?" Booth asked knowing that Sweets wasn't going to let this go.

"So far all I can confirm is the basic information on each set of remains. I need the bones cleaned so I can examine them fully to confirm cause of death. I also need the other set of remains that you mentioned." Bones answered.

"Caroline is working on it. It's a lot of bodies and that number just went up. Like way up." Booth said.

"How much is way up?" Wendell asked.

"Two hundred and ten." Booth answered.

"Whoa what?" Hodgins asked shocked.

"Sweets found two hundred and ten more cases that were all found in a side alley with a red devil's face painted on the wall." Booth said.

"That's a lot of cases to be overlooked though. Are you sure the devil's face is significant?" Cam asked.

"The killings were spread out all over the city. It's highly unlikely that there is a gang that fills this city with that marking and law enforcement doesn't know about it. I believe that the devil's face was painted before the victim was killed to mark the place where his partner was to make the kill." Sweets answered.

"But two hundred and ten and no one noticed? Seems highly unlikely." Bones said.

"If Sweets' theory is correct then we're looking at a serial killer responsible for close to three thousand deaths over fifty-seven years." Booth said.

"Come on seriously? How would that be possible?" Angela asked skeptically.

"The potential killer had been killing for fifty-seven years before it was brought to my attention to create a profile on him. He had at that point killed one person a week, every single week. He had twenty-eight hundred victims all of which were covered up by a different Federal Agent that he blackmailed for five years before killing the Agent and his partner off. He would then repeat the process with a new partner and blackmailing a new Federal Agent. All of the kills had something left behind and every five years it changed with the new partnership. All of the kills were random and done with whatever was lying around at the time. In the last five years seventy-three people were found guilty of the murder, but in my opinion they would be innocent." Sweets said.

"The bottom line is there is too many similarities between that serial killer Sweets profiled and these murders here. Hacker is going to make sure you have all of the evidence collected from the cases to go over everything. Caroline will get you the remaining thirty bodies that she is working on and if you need the other ones we can deal with that after this set. I brought the case files to go through. We need to keep this all quiet. Nothing leaves this lab." Booth said.

"I'm going to need more help. We'll have to bring in more Interns to help with the additional remains." Bones said.

"I'll call in Mr. Vaziri and Mr. Fisher." Cam said.

"Who is it we're supposed to be going after? If he's been doing this for over fifty-seven years he has to be old right?" Angela asked.

"Sixty years now actually and he started at twenty, he'd be eighty." Sweets answered.

"Wouldn't he be too old to physically kill someone?" Wendell asked.

"He's not actually doing the killing. It's how he's been able to avoid being detected." Sweets said.

"But you said you did a profile on him for serial killing." Clark said.

"I did a profile on him for the FBI in another sense and the serial killing came out." Sweets said.

"What was the original reason for the profile?" Cam asked.

"I can't say it's classified." Sweets answered.

"The reason why doesn't matter. What does is if this man is dead, alive or still killing. We need to find out of the evidence that was collected was right or not and if these people have anything in common." Booth said.

The lights suddenly shut off leaving everything in a soft light from the small amount of sunlight coming through the high windows.

"What the hell." Wendell said confused.

The windows began to shatter and everyone bent down to the floor trying to take cover from the glass falling from the ceiling. Booth had his hand on his gun ready to draw it should something happen. Once the glass was finished falling they heard the gunshots from inside followed by a voice that was now in the room.

"Stand up!" A thick voice demanded.

They all looked at each other before they stood up. Booth had his gun in his hand and pointed it at the door, but it was pointless. The room was full of armed men with masks over their face. In front of them was an old man in a very expensive black suit with six armed men flanking on either side of him. Only Sweets knew who this man was in front of them.

"Ah Agent Sweets, oh I'm sorry its Dr. Sweets now isn't it? You're no longer an Agent with the FBI." The old man said with a thick Russian accent.

"Rasputin Romani. You made a very foolish mistake coming here, showing your face. Everyone believes you were dead. Now they will know you faked your death." Sweets said making sure he kept his voice calm.

"All but you believed anyways. Not that that ever concerned me. They never believed you. To them you were just an unstable Agent needing to be put away. They threw you away and placed you as a Psychologist, the furthest away from any field work." Rasputin said.

"What do you want Romani?" Booth ordered as he still kept his gun on Rasputin. He didn't even know what to think about what Rasputin had said about Sweets being an Agent. He would need to have a conversation about it later. Now was not the time.

"It was brought to my attention that Dr. Sweets was looking into Agent case files. I knew it was only a matter of time before he put it all together. That was made clear when my art was being dug up and brought here. I wanted to come by and give a friendly piece of advice and warning to let it go. Just put them back where they belong and move on in your life. If you do I'm sure a generous donation to the Jeffersonian will be made for you to do with as you wish."

"Not gonna happen." Booth said.

"Yes I figured as much, but it was important to say. Now Lance, there was something I wished to say to you."

"And what would that be?" Sweets asked like he didn't care.

"We've known each other for some time now. When you first came to me you were nineteen, defenseless really. You couldn't fight, clearly you have not learnt how yet. Someone obviously taught you a valuable lesson. Why the FBI wouldn't teach their Shadow Agents to fight I truly do not know. Does not seem wise to send children out into dangerous undercover operations and not teach them how to fight. Though, with you I suppose it made sense. You could hit any target you aimed for. The best shot I have ever seen in my life. Fighting would seem pointless if you had access to a gun."

"Your point?" Sweets asked not liking how much Rasputin was giving away.

"My point is with me you had family. I told you about my paintings. I took you in like a son. You've always wanted a family you know that. I can give you a family. Come with me and we can put the past behind us. We could be very good together. I would never throw you away like your own mother did, your father, the FBI. The child that no one wanted. You would be wanted with me Lance."

"Not interested." Sweets said with an edge to his voice.

"Lance that's not very smart of you. It's fear that is blocking you from accepting my offer. I can't say I blame you, you haven't have the easiest life after all. Born a month early, addicted to heroin. Your mother took off just minutes after giving birth to you. Your father was never in your life. He named you Lance in hopes it would make you strong. He didn't even give you his last name. Named you Sweets because his oldest son loved sweets. Six months old you were in the foster care system. Between six months old and twelve you were in a hundred and thirteen foster homes. Abused and neglected in ninety of them. Some worse than others as those scars on your back are indication of that. Lived on the streets for two years before you went into College at fourteen. You're the Psychologist, you would know what it would do to a young man's mind to be nothing more than just a name in a file. During those young teenage years where you develop who you are going to be you were busy being people who don't exist. You lived a hard life Lance it would only make sense that you have no idea who you are or how to live. Why continue to live a hard life when you no longer need to? You work for the FBI listening to people complain about their problems. Why? You have money, you have millions from your poker winnings. Why continue with this life? Come with me and I'll give you a family and a true purpose Lance."

"I work for the FBI to put people like you away behind bars where they belong. I will never go anywhere with you. Mark my words Rasputin you will be in jail. The biggest mistake you could have made was showing up here today. You should have ran while no one believed me. But now you're standing here in front of witnesses. People will listen now and you will be taken down. I'm going to take you down finally once and for all." Sweets said with strength in his voice.

"I know where you live Lance. I could kill you at any moment of my choosing. It would be wise for you to reconsider." Rasputin said threateningly.

"I'm going to enjoy slamming that cell door right in your face." Sweets said back not even flinching at the threat.

"This has been your only warning, all of you. Walk away. Come boys we have work to do." Rasputin said as he turned and walked away.

All of his men walked out backwards ready to fire should the need come. Only when they were finally alone did Booth lower his gun, but he didn't put it away just yet. Everyone turned to look at Sweets who was shaking slightly from the pain and exhaustion in his body.

"What the hell was that?" Hodgins asked clearly pissed off.

"It would appear that was our killer." Bones said.

"No I meant all that about Sweets. Obviously you know more than you were letting on." Hodgins said with anger.

"I told you it was classified." Sweets said.

"Screw classified he just showed up here with like a hundred armed guards. What the hell is a Shadow Agent?" Angela asked pissed off too.

"Them showing up isn't my fault." Sweets said defensively.

"I agree. It's not your fault. He clearly doesn't want us looking at these bodies and cases. He wished to scare us away so he can continue to be free and killing people. It has nothing to do with Dr. Sweets." Bones simply said.

"Really? Because that felt pretty personal to me." Wendell said.

"Look Sweets you got some things you need to explain here. Like what the hell is really going on. What the hell is a Shadow Agent?" Booth asked.

"Dr. Sweets you really should be sitting down. Your body is still healing and standing too long will only cause your internal bruising to darken and not heal." Clark said as he seemed to be the only one to notice how shaky Sweets was.

Booth noticed that Sweets' body was not doing well. He pulled over a metal stool and Sweets sat down on it. Booth put his gun away and turned to look at Sweets, clearly waiting for an answer to his question.

"Shadow Agents is a division within the FBI, it technically doesn't exist because if it did the Government couldn't justify the actions." Sweets started.

"What actions?" Cam asked.

"Using under aged kids as undercover Agents." Sweets answered.

"And you were one?" Bones asked.

"Ya I was. Under age by Government standard is twenty-one. The age where you can drink, gamble and go into the FBI academy. Shadow Agents weren't that old though most were sixteen or close to it. All of them were at risk youth. They were runaways, orphans, foster kids that no one cared about. They were going to be arrested for something, but they had something valuable to the division. I was fourteen when they found me. I was arrested by the FBI in a cartel illegal poker den." Sweets said.

"Hello." Hodgins said shocked.

"Why would you be in such a place?" Bones asked.

"Because I needed the money to afford my school. I was in College working on my first degree. I ran away at twelve and finished school through a mail-in correspondence courses. I couldn't go to a physical school without being caught so I did it that way. But because of that I couldn't register for most of the scholarships and I wasn't old enough for student loans. The scholarships only paid for my tuition I still had to come up with the rest of the money for books, room and board. I was really good at poker. I had started playing when I was twelve to get money for food and the occasional no ask motel room." Sweets answered.

"How did you end up working for them though?" Angela asked.

"They brought me down to this different location then the rest of the people arrested, I wasn't at the FBI building, not the official one. The Shadow Division is not located in the FBI building because it had to be kept as much need to know as possible. It's the top floor of a highly secured office building. They put me in this room no bigger than a closet. I was there for twenty-eight hours in the dark. When an Agent, Agent Fuller, finally did come and get me out he brought me into a small office and gave me some water. He asked me how it felt to be locked up in the room. I didn't answer him and he proceeded to tell me how during those twenty-eight hours he was building the case against me. He was planning on charging me as an adult due to the level of my intelligence. Said I was a cartel member and was looking at a whole bag full of charges including multiple counts of capital murder. I told him why I was really there and he told me that he knew that. That he had done his research on me."

"He gave you a choice." Booth stated already knowing where this was going.

"Ya. I either; join his division and work undercover or I was going to spend the rest of my life in a small dark place. I agreed. I didn't ask him any questions, because really what else was I going to do? He explained that I would be known as a Shadow Agent and I would go through training to receive a FBI badge to be authorized to arrest targets. I had to sign a contract that kept me with the division until I turned twenty-four or I was killed. I didn't know that at the time, because I didn't read the whole contract. He didn't give me the time and then the contract was taken away and I never saw it again. I found out a lot of things later on that was in the contract that should never have been allowed to be in it. But it was too late I had already signed it. I met other Shadow Agents I worked with four others in a unit. There was a total of three units, fifteen of us in total. I worked with Mark, a sixteen year old hacker on the FBI watched list. Jessica, a seventeen year old escort her job was to distract the target by any means necessary and I mean any means. Chris was a nineteen year old thief a very good thief and Jake was twenty and the muscle arrested multiple times for deadly assault. I was the brains. We all worked together ninety percent of the time to complete the mission. One of us would always be undercover it would just depend on the situation as to who it would be. When we weren't undercover we were expected to keep up appearances so no one would notice we were doing something else. I continued to go to school and play poker to support myself."

"How did you get put on Rasputin's case?" Booth asked gently.

"Everything went wrong." Sweets said sadly with pain clear in his voice.

"What happened?" Angela asked gently.

"There had been some talk from above that something was going on, was going down. We didn't know we were never told everything just what was in the file. Mark kept saying that they were going to invoke clause nineteen from the contract. We had no idea what he was talking about. He hacked into the system to find the contracts and it was in all of our contracts. A clause that we signed off on that would end out lives. Literally. We signed away and gave permission for them to kill us should the division be at risk of being discovered. We thought he was crazy, paranoid. They couldn't just kill fifteen people off. You couldn't cover that up. We were all at the building working on our assignments. It was just the fifteen of us and we were spread out among the loft on the top floor. All of a sudden the door was kicked open and eight masked, armed men came through and started shooting. We all scrambled for guns I was able to grab mine. I always had it on me since I was cleared to carry. I took five out before the other three left. Fifteen of us and I was the only one to survive. I tried to save them, stop the bleeding, but there were too many injured. The phone lines were all cut, cell phone signals has been jammed, they locked the door from the outside and it was sealed I couldn't fire my way out. I couldn't call for help, I couldn't go anywhere. All I could do was try and save their lives, but they all slowly bleed out one right after the other. By the time anyone came in they were all dead. I was covered in their blood. Agent Fuller took me out of there and brought me to a safe house. He told me that a new target had discovered what the division had been trying to do and had us killed. He was placing me undercover for that target to bring him down."

"And you believed him?" Hodgins asked skeptically.

"Not even for a second, but what choice did I have? If I called him out on it, they would go after me again and again until they succeeded. I couldn't exactly go on the run they'd have had my face all over the news I would have been the most wanted fugitive in the Country. My only choice was to play along until I turned twenty-four and could get out. If I didn't cause any trouble and did what I was ordered to do I stood a chance. Not much of one, but a better one than the other alternative."

"The target was Rasputin." Booth stated

"Ya it was. He wasn't a serial killer when I went undercover for him."

"What was he?" Bones asked.

"The controller of the American Russian mob division. He was wanted as a person of interest across all of the ABC Agencies. They had sent in numerous undercover agents and all of them had returned dead within months of them being there. All were made. To be the Agency that brought him down would have been rewarded very handsomely. With the Shadow Division bringing him down, they could have justified their use of under aged Agents. They could have grown into a full size division with millions in grant money. He was suspected in over eight hundred crimes, none of which was murder. That's what tipped me off."

"Big Russian mob guy, but doesn't have anyone killed. That's weird." Hodgins said.

"Exactly. They gave me the night to get cleaned up and ready to go. The next morning I went undercover as this nineteen year old homeless kid trying to stay in school. I knew that he would be in a certain area and I went to that area sat down on the ground with my homework and played the part. I caught his interest because I was clearly homeless, but doing school work. He stopped to talk to me and I told him I was an orphan and a runaway. He gave me fifty bucks before he left. I stayed in that area every day after my classes and he started to come around more. It took three months before he first brought me back to his place allowed me to get cleaned up and he fed me. It started with me running drugs for him and over time I gained more and more of his trust. It was two years into it when he decided I was worthy enough to see his artwork."

"That's what he called the victims." Cam said.

"Ya, but he meant it in a literal sense. He started when he was nineteen and the first time was completely innocent. He's a painter and one day his girlfriend was painting with him and she cut herself. There was a decent amount of blood and according to him it just looked so pretty. He used her blood and painted a picture. She lived and was apparently turned on by it. He was twenty when he first killed someone, by his own hand. He used his victim's blood and combined it with some type of chemical to make it thicker and more like paint. He became obsessed. Even believed that the victim's blood spoke to him and guided his hand to make the paintings. He learnt quick though. He destroyed the bodies with lye and crushed the bones up to complete ash before he would then use a funeral home dedicated to cremating the remains of soldiers that died overseas, but their bodies were too dangerous with disease to have buried. The worker would then put in some of Rasputin's victim's ashes into another urn. One body would be divided up into fifty urns and they would be shipped all over the Country. At twenty-five he had enough blackmail on a Federal Agent and a submissive partner with a low IQ and anger management issues to begin killing the way he is now. He doesn't care about the kill; to him it's about their blood and it's no longer enough for them to be willing donors. The people are nothing to him, just a container to what he desires. Who they were didn't matter. The victimology didn't matter because they all had the same thing inside of them, blood. The location is what mattered to him. He was killing one person a week and at first it was to take all of their blood and use it as paint. After ten years that began to change. It had to, because courts and crime scene techs were getting smarter. There's only so many times you can find a body with no blood in them before it becomes suspicious. He was forced to change his artwork. The location always mattered but for different reasons. In the beginning he would mark an alley wall with a different symbol every five years to mark a new partnership. It was simply just to mark the best place to make the kill without any eyes watching. He always made sure to put the mark on himself to ensure the area was safe. Afterwards he had to change his art. He would take a map of the city and mark places on the map that would give him his desired image. Once he had the image he wanted to paint he would mark those alley walls one a week and have his partner take only a few ounces of blood from the victim. He would use that to paint part of the image that he was looking to create. He would continue until the image was complete and then he would move on to a new map and a new image."

"He just shared that with you?" Clark asked.

"He was very in-depth with what he told me. He was getting old, no wife, no children. He wanted to pass it on to someone and I played into that. I knew he was looking for someone to take his place even before I knew about the killing. I played into that and acted very willing to learn everything he had to teach. He liked that I was in school for psychology he thought it would play well with him and I would be able to help manipulate people for him. He spent thirteen hours telling me everything and showing off different paintings he had done recently. He had files and files of blackmail on judges, Agents, Coroners, Doctors, Congressmen, you name it he had it. He had paintings from the blood of his past partners and Federal Agents. He told me it all and with it I had everything I needed to bring him in."

"Why didn't you?" Booth asked.

"Agent Fuller wouldn't let me. Said you couldn't charge someone with murder when they didn't actually do the murdering. He wanted me to focus on the trafficking charges. Rasputin was also trafficking drugs, weapons and women. He wanted that bust and not some serial killer. He thought it wouldn't look as good on the Division. He told me I had to stay in and I did for another year. For a year he bragged about the people that were killed. Every week that I had failed to find the evidence to bring him in was another week some innocent person was killed. After three years being undercover for him he started to get paranoid and twitchy. I knew something was going on, but he wouldn't talk about it. He then faked his death and with his supposed death the operation was over. No one cared about a dead Russian mobster. I told Agent Fuller that he wasn't dead though, but he didn't believe me, no one did. They believed that my time with Rasputin was too damaging to my mental state and I was mentally unstable. They released me from my contract and sent me to work as a Psychologist within the FBI. Literally the next day I was sitting in my office and Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan came walking in."

"Wow, that's just… that's just wow." Angela said shocked by what she had heard.

"Man all this time I thought you were just this annoying Shrink kid." Hodgins said shocked as well.

"It's good though, because now we know who is behind all of this. We just have to find a way to prove it." Clark said.

"How do we prove it though?" Cam said.

"Well I can check the cameras here and see if any of that was caught on tape and was recorded. He did basically admit to it." Angela said.

"He didn't though. He just called them his art. It could have been about anything and if he does still have blackmail on judges he would be able to get himself out of it. He must have someone within the District Attorney's office to know about the remains being exhumed." Bones said.

"Let me worry about proving it. You guys need to worry about proving those seventy-three people in jail are innocent. You need to go over every set of remains within the last five years. We just need one body to prove that Rasputin had them killed and then Caroline will make sure he spends the rest of his life in prison. I'm more concerned right now about your safety Sweets. This guy knows where you live." Booth said as he looked at Sweets.

"I'll be fine. He doesn't want to kill me. If he did he would have by now."

"What makes you so confident?" Cam asked.

"He knew I was an Agent. I suspected that he did near the beginning. He never said anything about it, but he always knew the others were undercover Agents because he always had a way to look them up. He would have known I was an Agent before he brought me into his house that first time. It was a risk I took. It's why I kept my name when I went under and kept to who I was, an orphan runaway struggling to support himself in school. It played to his victimology of his partner."

"Someone easily manipulated and all alone so no outside influence." Booth said.

"Correct. I had a higher IQ than his other partners, but he saw my degree in psychology as an added bonus and personal challenge. If he could manipulate someone like me into believing what he was doing there was no telling what he could do or get me to do. He doesn't want to kill me he still believes he can manipulate me into being what he wishes. I'm still a challenge to him."

"All the more reason for you to not be around." Booth said.

"I'm not going anywhere. No one knows him better than me. No one knows this case better than me. I'm doing this with or without your permission." Sweets said back and even though his voice was raspy and sore Booth could still hear the determination in it, they all could.

"Fine, but you stick with me I don't want you out there on your own and you need a new safe place to be until this is wrapped up."

"I got a safe place I can go to. I've learnt how to hide and cover my tracks."

"Where is this Agent Fuller?" Booth asked clearly not happy with calling him an Agent.

"It's not that simple to go and talk to him Agent Booth."

"And why the hell not Sweets?" Booth asked with an edge to his voice that Sweets didn't take personally. He knew that Booth would not be happy about children being manipulated and forced into working undercover.

"Because the division still exists and is still active. Agent Fuller is the Director of the division." Sweets explained.

"How is that possible? All of the Agents were killed by them you said. How could they still have a division?" Cam asked outraged that fourteen teenagers were murdered and it seemed like it didn't matter to the FBI.

"Their deaths were never reported or filed anywhere. The bodies were buried where all of the other bodies were buried from previous Agents that didn't make it out. They've been around for fifteen years completely under the radar. Within a month of my last operation they had replaced all fifteen of us with more under aged kids, one was twelve and being used to lure pedophiles and human traffickers. These aren't your typical Senior Agents here. They are the ones that were too good at their job, the ones that could justify anything as long as the end result was a win and I'm talking anything." Sweets said.

"They should have been fired not given a division to run." Booth said disgusted that this was going on.

"I agree, but the previous FBI Director didn't see it that way. Director Vance only cared about the numbers. He wanted the FBI in the press as the top agency in the world. The more press the better for him and the bigger his paycheque was. The runners of the division, ten Agents plus Fuller, were Agents that had an amazing record, but kept getting complaints about how they did it. For example letting a child being molested by her father so they could go through the house to look for evidence without a warrant. When the suspect would protest to the search they could turn around and show the picture of him molesting his daughter. No normal human being would stand there and allow it to happen, but they did. Director Vance was getting crap from the Council and he decided that he could kill two birds with one stone. He created the Shadow Division. He sent those eleven Agents to run that division any way they see fit as long as they brought in major arrests, which they did. But they did it through under aged kids. They put all the risk on us while they sat back and collected the money. And a lot of it. When a bust happened they would take drugs or cash as evidence they said, but they just pocketed the money. They got rich on our lives while they paid us fifteen hundred a month to risk our lives. They had no problems locking one of us away if we questioned their decisions. They had no problem beating the hell out of us and call it training. They were horrible human beings and I always suspected that something more was going on with Agent Fuller."

"Why?" Booth asked.

"Just a feeling he was too invested in the division and not in a good dedicated way. He was very interested in the major targets, cartels, traffickers, Rasputin. I always figured he was dirty especially when one of us would turn up dead out of nowhere. Even Director Vance, when he retired he demanded a place on the FBI Council and he has kept an eye on the division to ensure that it is never found. Obviously if it was and he was allowing it to happen he could be looking at charges. We always believed that he was involved we called them the Dirty Twelve. The most dirtiest Agents in the whole Bureau that no one could stop. They are still up and running to this day, the same twelve. If you go in there to Agent Fuller and tell him that Rasputin showed up here in the lab, and I guarantee you he won't be on a camera anywhere, Fuller will do everything within his power to destroy your career. He has to, because before it was just me saying it. And he was all too prepared to say I was mentally unstable and ship me off to some nut house to get pills forced into me for the rest of my life. If I say it and blow the lid off this whole division I'm just some crazy kid. But if you say it that's a whole different thing. You're a well-respected FBI Agent, a war veteran, a decorated officer. People will listen to you no matter how crazy and out there it seems. You'll have people backing you up whether they believe it or not because they believe in you. He can't risk that happening. He'll do everything in his power to destroy your career Agent Booth." Sweets said.

"I don't care. Agents like this don't get to be in the Bureau. They don't get to have a badge. I don't care what it takes I'm bringing this division down and freeing those poor kids. I'm putting an end to this." Booth said with anger at the situation.

"We all will. I need those bodies of the seventy-three people that are currently in prison as well as any evidence to their cases." Bones said.

"I'll get Caroline on it. She'll have to avoid going through the courts unless she knows of a judge that wouldn't be on anyone's payroll. If not we'll have to make the calls to their next of kin to see if we can get approval to exhume their bodies. I need to update Hacker on this situation and I need access to all of these eleven Agent's files. I want to know everything about them and about Vance. What do you think about Stark?" Booth asked Sweets.

"Completely in the dark. Director Stark was appointed Director by the Council due to votes. He received more votes than Agent Maggle, who was handpicked by Vance to take his place. Vance was a mentor to him and they worked very closely together. A few of the retired agents on the Council were concerned about how much influence Vance had on Maggle and passed him over for Stark. Stark hated Vance and his old school beliefs, they often butted heads in some public places. Stark had eighty percent of the votes on the Council and ever since he has been working on pushing the age of a Federal Agent up to twenty-five before they could enter the academy. Stark is a firm believers that anyone younger is still growing up and should be allowed to grow before taking on the stress and darkness that this job can bring. He's very active in the community where children are concerned and he even sponsors a runaway housing project where runaways can spend the night in a group home setting without the stress of a group home. Stark was an abused runaway before he was adopted by this couple who found him starving on the street. They took him in no questions asked and gave him a great life. Based on his profile and history I can guarantee you that if he knew something like this division was going on within his FBI he would have put a stop to it. If you can get him to listen to you he'll help." Sweets answered.

"Getting him to listen will be easy. You're living proof that this happened." Booth said confidently.

"My word might not be enough for the Council. If Fuller is able to convince them that I'm unstable my word will mean nothing."

"That won't happen. We have more than enough circumstantial proof. Someone will listen." Booth said back.

"What about the other bodies? The ones of the other kid Agents? Couldn't we dig them up and prove they were all killed by the same weapon or something?" Wendell asked.

"If we could get into the building where it happened we might be able to find evidence that was covered up." Hodgins said all for helping to shut down this division.

"The building might be a little hard they still use it as their main base. You're not going to be able to just walk in there. The remains are all kept together over the years I don't know how many bodies will be buried there. I know the location though, seventy-eight degrees west by ninety-four degrees north. It was apparently some old quarry that was tainted with acid in the soil and rocks. It was shut down thirty years ago." Sweets said.

"I will go to that location and search for the remains. Dr. Hodgins you will come with me to help recover the bodies and any samples that you may need. Cam, I would appreciate it if you called Mr. Vaziri and Mr. Fisher to come in and work on these bodies until I have located the other set of remains." Bones said.

"I'm not sure how I feel about you going out there alone Bones." Booth said.

"It'll be fine, I'll bring my gun. But really no one will be there. You have other more important matters to attend to than searching for remains in rocks." Bones said.

"Fine, but you bring a gun too." Booth said as he pointed to Hodgins.

"Fair enough." Hodgins easily agreed.

"I'll go through some of the files and see if I can find any next of kin to start getting some people to agree to their loved ones being exhumed." Angela said.

"I'll call Caroline shortly to let her know of the situation. Sweets, you and me are going to have a meeting with Hacker and Stark. The sooner they are aware of the situation the better prepared we can be." Booth said.

"And if they don't believe me." Sweets said clearly not sure of the situation.

"They'll believe you. This story is too insane not to believe. It'll be fine I promise."

"Fine, but I need to stop at the apartment first."

"That's fine." Booth easily agreed.

"Let's go people the clock is ticking on this one." Cam said.

Everyone got moving and Sweets and Booth headed back to Booth's SUV. Once inside the car Sweets put his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. His body was sore and he was feeling like crap with the pneumonia and concussion. This was not the relaxing time off he was supposed to be having. Booth started the car as he spoke.

"How's the pain?"

"It's fine. It's the pneumonia that is kicking my ass."

"Bones said you would be feeling like crap and really tired for a while. You should be resting. After the meeting I'll take you to that safe place of yours and you can relax and sleep."

"I'll be fine. There's a lot of work that needs to be done."

"And it will be, but you aren't any good to us Sweets if you're too tired to think. You need some rest before you keep going. That's an order, Agent or not I know I still out rank you."

"Yes you do." Sweets said with a small smirk.

"It all makes sense now." Booth said gently.

"What does?"

"You're apartment, why you don't call it home, why it's empty of anything. I'm no Shrink, but I've seen enough in soldiers to see PTSD. You just moved into that place after your last operation didn't you?"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I have PTSD." Sweets said slightly defensively.

"You know the signs Sweets. You know you're not okay, that you're not living. You got survivor's guilt the kind that makes you stand still even though you are living every day you're just standing still."

"I know, but I don't know how to stop. He's right I don't know who I am. Lance Sweets is just another name to me in a file. All I've been is whoever I had to be to survive. The foster parents didn't even call me by my name. I don't know who I am and I don't know how to live. All I've done is survive to the end of the day and then get up and do it all over again. It's all I know how to do. The apartment is just an apartment, rundown and empty just what I've always been used to. It's not a home, I don't know how to make it a home. It doesn't feel like it. It just feels like one more temporary place to be. I don't know how to adjust to anything but surviving. I know what I'm supposed to do I've told soldiers how to do it in the past, how to move on and readjust to life being back home. Yet I can't do it myself. I don't know." Sweets said sounding exhausted and lost.

"You don't do it alone that's how you do it Sweets. You don't take on life alone. There's two very important things I'm going to teach you. The first is how to fight. You need to learn how to defend yourself no matter what size you are. I've taught a hundred pound girls to defend themselves against three hundred pounds of muscle. I can teach you how to fight and I will be. You gotta be able to defend yourself."

"What's the second thing?"

"The second, I'm gonna teach you how to live. I'm gonna teach you how to come home for the first time in your life. No one should suffer alone and you don't have to anymore. You got people who care about you Sweets. Just look back at the last week. We care about you. We're all standing behind you on this. You're not alone in this world anymore Sweets. You need to learn how to live in it and I'm going to show you how. You survived Sweets and that can be just as painful as being one of the ones who didn't. But you survived and they wouldn't want you living your life this way. They would want you to be happy. You got out. You survived and you need to start living. So I'm gonna show you how. You'll figure out who you are and who you aren't once you start living Sweets just like the rest of us."

"And if I fail?" Sweets asked softly.

"The only way you can fail in life is by giving up. You don't strike me as a person to give up."

"No I'm not."

"Take it one day at a time, one step at a time."

"Ok"

"Good. So you really don't know who your father is?"

"Never met him. I know his name, I found out later. He had two other older sons, but I never met them."

"Why not?"

"They don't know I exist. I don't think it would go over well."

"Why wouldn't it?"

"Just wouldn't. It doesn't matter they have their lives and I know they are both healthy and happy. That's all that matters anyways."

"Except maybe they would like to know you exist Sweets. Maybe they would want you in their lives. They could have wives or children that are missing out on you in their lives." Booth said.

"It's not exactly an easy conversation to have with someone. How would you feel if someone came up to you and said 'hey I'm your younger half-brother?'"

"I'd want to verify it first, but I wouldn't turn him away. Half-brother or not he's family. It's just that simple to me or to Jarod. You should think about it Sweets they deserve to at least know you exist."

"Ya I'll think about it."

Booth didn't say anything else on the way to Sweets' apartment. He could tell that Sweets was in a great deal of pain and needed some quiet time. Sweets closed his eyes and just tried to focus on getting his mind back in the game. He didn't expect for all of this to be happening and he didn't know how he felt about the others now knowing so much about him. He was supposed to be the one all put together, the one that gives out advice to people who have life problems. Sweets couldn't help but feel like a fraud. He knew what he was supposed to do, but he couldn't bring himself to do it yet. He had struggled for the past two years to do what he was supposed to do. Yet he would tell people to do exactly what he wasn't doing himself. Sweets didn't know what to do. He didn't know how he felt about any of this and he knew it would take time before he was able to figure it out. He just needed some sleep and then he could get his mind to focus on what he needed to figure out. When they finally pulled up to Sweets' apartment Booth parked and they got out. They headed inside and once inside Sweets' apartment he went into his bedroom to grab his clothes. He knew he couldn't come back here until it was safe once again. Sweets started to pack his duffle bag with what little he did have.

"There's a metal case under the bed, can you grab it for me?" Sweets asked as he finished putting the few things he had into the duffle bag.

Booth moved so he could grab the metal box, he was surprised at how wide it was and how heavy it was.

"Wow this thing is heavy." Booth said as he put the case down on Sweets' bed.

"I know that's why I asked you to move it and not me."

"What the hell is in this thing?" Booth asked.

Sweets didn't answer he just went over and flipped the locks and opened the lid. Booth let out a whistle at what he saw inside. There were grenades, handguns, shotguns, revolvers, a small wooden box, handcuffs and even a badge. Sweets grabbed his FBI badge and attached it to his right hip before he took the handcuffs and put them on the back of his pants. Booth picked up the wooden box and opened it as he spoke.

"Are you still an active Agent?"

"Sort of. I was never inactive, but never officially active either technically. I do have permits to carry a weapon both concealed and not." Sweets answered as he put a nine millimeter gun into the back of his jeans as he didn't have a hip holster.

"Whoa these are metals. A purple heart, red cross, badge of courage, metal of bravery. Sweets where did you get these?"

"From my time overseas." Sweets answered as he cleared the other stuff out of the way to lift out a gun case.

"Wait you were overseas? You were a soldier? When?"

"Never. I was never a soldier."

"Then how did you end up overseas?" Booth asked very interested.

"I have a very good shot, top in the Country. I was sixteen the first time I went over there. Agent Fuller had requests for dangerous operations that required certain abilities. I was sent over to locate a missing American soldier. They needed my profiling skills to locate where the soldier was. When the captured soldier was located the soldiers got fired upon and were trying to hold their own. I ran into the cave and got the captured soldier out. I received a metal of bravery for it. I did that for three years did twenty-three missions. They were no longer than five days over there. Most I was in and out especially once I was making a name for myself at the shooting ranges at being very gifted with a rifle. The last time I went over I received the purple heart and this baby from the Army General himself." Sweets said as he opened the gun case.

Inside the case was a beautiful, slick sniper riffle. Booth was shocked to be looking at it as he had never been able to see one of these things up close before. His sniper riffle was impressive, but it was nothing compared to this.

"That's a McMillan Tac 50."

"Yes it is. It's a very nice gun."

"How did you get this? I can't even get my hands on one." Booth said amazed.

"The riffle I was using was old and pretty crappy, but I was still able to make perfect shots with it. My last mission overseas was when I was nineteen before everything else happened. It was actually when I first met you." Sweets said starting to get lost in memory.

"What? I've never seen you overseas." Booth said confused.

"You didn't see me, I saw you and I didn't even know it was you until later. Do you remember back in that little village of Kadish your unit was surprised with a suicide bomber?"

"Ya it was my last time over there. It was just a quick mission to grab some dangerous intel. I was grabbed from behind and he had a bomb vest and a dead man switch. He brought me into one of the homes. I was the sniper in the group though and the only place for one to take up a position was two thousand yards away for the right angle. My men couldn't do it. We were waiting for reinforcements and a bomb unit to try and defuse the situation. He was waiting for some big important meeting and we just came into a bad position. It was all bad timing." Booth recalled.

"I was on my way out. I just finished a rescue mission and I was heading back to the States. I got asked to go and be the sniper to get a unit free from a suicide bomber. I agreed and I went to take up my position once I arrived at the small village."

"You're the one that pulled the trigger; that made that shot. We never knew who it was." Booth said.

"Most didn't know my name and those that did knew me by a false one. That was my last mission over there. The Army General awarded me with the purple heart and with this. He said that if I could make that shot with the shitty riffle that I had then the number of lives I could save with one like this was endless."

"You really have lived one hell of a life Sweets. You've been through a lot in the twenty-four years you've been alive. When did you find out it was me?"

"When I got my medal the General mentioned that I had saved his best sniper, his best leader, Seeley Booth. I didn't know you were in the FBI not until I got your file that morning."

"Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"You wouldn't have believed me for starters and secondly, it wasn't about me it was about your partnership with Dr. Brennan. It doesn't matter it's all in the past."

"One night we are going to have some beers and pizza and trade stories."

"I'd like that. And one day I'll let you shoot it." Sweets said as he closed the case and locked everything back away.

"Oh I need to shoot this gun. Do you have a holster for your gun?"

"I have a thigh holster, but not a hip."

"I have an extra one in the glovebox you can use. It'll make people feel less edgy over it." Booth said.

"Thanks. I'm all set." Sweets said as he grabbed his duffle bag.

"You want the case don't you?"

"Kinda." Sweets said with an apologetic look.

Booth grabbed the metal case and they headed out of the apartment and back down to Booth's SUV. They put the metal case and Sweets' duffle bag in the back before they got in. Sweets put on the hip holster and put his gun into it as Booth headed back to the office. Booth pulled out his phone and asked Hacker to meet them at Stark's office in twenty minutes. Booth wanted to do this conversation once to save them all time. If they could get Hacker and Stark to see what was going on than they would have a lot more freedom to move around and get what they needed to not only stop Rasputin, but the Shadow Division. Having the right people on their side would make the world of a difference. Once they arrived at the FBI they both got out and headed inside to the elevator. Sweets was looking more and more exhausted as the time went on and Booth was hoping they could make this a quick meeting. Sweets desperately needed some time to lay down and sleep to help his body heal and regenerate. They headed up the elevator to the top floor where Stark's office was located. Once there they headed down to Stark's office. Hacker was already standing there looking anxious to know what was going on.

"Dr. Sweets, how are you feeling?" Hacker asked.

"I'm alright." Sweets said with a raspy voice.

"Booth, what is going on?" Hacker asked.

"A long story and it would be better to tell it once."

"Please tell me you called and told him we were coming." Hacker said.

"Nope didn't do that." Booth said as he went over and knocked on the door. After a moment Stark spoke.

"Come in."

Booth opened the door and Stark looked up to see who it was.

"Agent Booth, I don't have time to talk. You'll have to come back later."

"Sir this is something you need to make time to hear now. You have a serious problem." Booth said in a serious voice.

Stark could see that Booth wasn't about to let this go. He let out a sigh and waved him in. Booth walked in with Hacker and Sweets behind him. Sweets closed the door behind him.

"What is going on?" Stark asked now more concerned with Hacker and Sweets being here for this conversation. He had heard about what happened to Sweets after the arrests were made. He was applaud that someone had attacked Sweets, especially an Agent. Stark was hoping this was connected to that and not something else.

"We have a serious problem Sir." Hacker said.

"Dr. Sweets please for the love of God sit down before you fall over." Stark ordered.

Sweets went and sat down in one of the two chairs in the room across from the desk.

"You're carrying a gun?" Hacker asked.

"Was that a badge I just saw?" Stark asked.

"Yes Sir." Sweets answered.

"Alright I want answers and I want them right now." Stark demanded.

"A situation was brought to my attention yesterday afternoon by Sweets regarding Agent Anderson's case files. He thought he saw a pattern and he wanted my opinion on it. I was able to see the same pattern and agreed with him that Agent Anderson missed something vital. I called Assistant Director Hacker into Sweets' office to speak about it privately where we didn't have to worry about being overheard." Booth started.

"What was the pattern?" Stark asked.

"A serial killer that Agent Anderson had missed." Hacker answered.

The shocked look on Stark's face was a clear indication that he did not expect that to come out of anyone's mouth. He turned to look at Sweets before he spoke in a demanding voice. "Talk, now."

"Yes Sir. I noticed with fifty files that at the crime scene there was a painted red devil's face on the alley wall where the body was discovered. At first I didn't think too much of it, but after the third case file I saw the pattern. Agent Anderson hadn't, not even after fifty cases. Out of those fifty cases seventeen were convicted and are currently in jail, the rest turned into cold cases. Which was the initial reason for my going through every Agent's case files, to see who had a high cold case rate. The devil face is not connected to any gang within the city or surrounding cities. They were all across the city and not in one designated area. Agent Anderson was the lead on all of the cases and some he wasn't even on duty. He claimed he was in the area and offered to take the case away from the busy local PD. All of the victims were random, nothing connecting them other than the wrong place at the wrong time. All were killed with a weapon of opportunity and the weapon was left behind. The cases were all closed within forty-eight hours of being open and without any evidence results back from the lab. Fifty people went into court and as I said seventeen of them were found guilty by bad luck of the draw for jury members." Sweets said.

"I'm missing how it could be a serial killer. We're talking fifty cases here, all of them were random and nothing connecting them other than some painted devil's face. Weird sure, but I'm not hearing anything that would have me believing that an Agent of mine missed something as vital as a serial killer." Stark said.

"It is Sir." Sweets started, but he began to cough. He had been talking too much today and he was paying the price for it now. Hacker went over to the counter and grabbed a water bottle before opening it and handing it to Sweets. Sweets gave a nod of thanks as Booth spoke.

"Sweets came to me with all of this looking to see if I was seeing what he was and I do. Anderson didn't miss anything, he's working for the serial killer, he's being blackmailed by him."

"You better have substantial proof to show me for that Booth. The only reason I am sitting here even listening to this is because it's you here. Otherwise you would have been kicked out by now. You better start telling me something to get me to your point and do it fast." Stark warned.

"These cases reminded Sweets of another serial killer that went under the radar. He would leave a symbol at every murder as well and he worked with a submissive partner and blackmailed an FBI Agent to cover up the crimes. They were random just like this and happened once a week for fifty-seven years, sixty now." Booth said.

"You're not helping yourself here Agent Booth." Stark said now very annoyed.

"He showed up today at the Jeffersonian." Sweets said with a very sore and hoarse voice.

"What?" Both Hacker and Stark said at the same time.

"No more talking Sweets you're vocal cords can't handle it anymore today. You'll be lucky if you even have a voice tomorrow." Booth said gently to Sweets before he turned his attention to Hacker and Stark. "Rasputin Romani that is our mastermind. I explained this to Hacker yesterday. As I said Sweets saw the pattern from a previous serial killer who was never caught. He was believed to be dead two years ago, but Sweets never believed it. He was well off and had been able to blackmail multiple Federal Agents, judges, Coroners, faking his own death from a heart attack was easy for him. No one believed Sweets, but I did and so did Hacker."

"I gave Agent Booth permission to have the fifty bodies exhumed and examined at the Jeffersonian." Hacker said.

"Caroline was able to get twenty of the fifty bodies exhumed so far and they were brought to the Jeffersonian. Bones and her team were going over them this morning. Sweets looked through the rest of the five years' worth of Anderson's cases and found an additional two hundred and ten cases that matched the devil face M.O. A total of seventy-three people are in prison on Capital Murder charges. All two hundred and sixty cases were missed by Anderson of having the same devil face. Not only that, it comes to one murder a week for the past five years. The same timeline as before from Romani. At first I thought it must be a child or someone close to him, he is eighty so it would be hard to believe that he could still orchestrate a murder such as this. However, this morning at the Jeffersonian, not twenty minutes after myself and Sweets arrived the lights were shut off, the windows were all smashed in and armed guards stormed into the place. No one was harmed, but Romani was there with the guards. He found out that we had exhumed twenty bodies, he called them his art. That is when it got complicated." Booth said.

"More complicated than a man who was believed to be dead storming into the Jeffersonian with armed guards?" Stark asked clearly now paying very close attention.

"I know Romani." Sweets said.

"You know him? How?" Hacker asked.

"A long and complicated story, short version at nineteen Sweets was undercover for the FBI on an operation to focus on Romani. He was undercover for three years when he discovered that Romani was a serial killer mastermind." Booth said.

"Undercover? You couldn't have been when you were nineteen it's against regulations." Hacker said.

"Dr. Sweets, I know you are in a great deal of pain from your attack just barely a week ago, but I need to hear how you became connected to Romani through an undercover operation. I need to hear how you could even be on an undercover operation at just nineteen. Take as long as you need, but I need to hear it from you." Stark said calmly to Sweets.

"It's called Shadow Division. It's a division within the FBI that takes under aged, at-risk teenagers, some as young as twelve, and place them as Federal Agents undercover for dangerous organizations. Cartels, gangs, traffickers, the Russian Mob. I was in the foster care since when I was six months old until I was twelve when I ran away. I lived on the streets making money through playing poker. At fourteen I went into College and supported myself through poker playing in illegal poker dens. When I was fourteen I was arrested by the FBI while in a Cartel poker den. I wasn't brought here though, but to some other building. They left me in a room the size of a closet, handcuffed, in the dark for twenty-eight hours." Sweets started but had to stop as he began to cough.

"Who was the Agent?" Stark asked as he looked at Booth already figuring that he knew.

"Agent Fuller." Booth answered while Sweets took a drink of water.

"Fuller? He's still an active Agent." Stark said with anger in his voice.

"He's not the only one and it gets worse." Booth said with his own anger at the situation.

"I've never even heard of this division." Hacker said.

"I don't know anything about it and I'm the Director." Stark said with his anger rising.

"Agent Fuller told me he was going to charge me with being a cartel member. That I would be charged as an adult for multiple crimes including Capital Murder. Or I could agree to work for him, for the division as a Shadow Agent. He only gave me a few minutes to decide, but I didn't have a choice. I was fourteen and to me I was going to spend the rest of my life in prison all because I was trying to make money to stay in school and survive. He handed me a contract, but he wouldn't let me read it. He told me I would be working undercover to help stop dangerous criminals. That I would be working in a team until I was twenty-four and then I could leave if I wished. He wanted me for my IQ. I signed the contract with no choice. He brought me up to the loft to meet the rest of the division. There were fifteen of us in total, all between the ages of fourteen and twenty, three units, five per unit. One kid was a hacker, another a thief, a muscle man and a girl to distract the targets. And yes I do mean have sex with, she was seventeen. All of us were there because we got caught trying to survive. We were all run away or orphans living on the streets. All of us had something that was valuable to the division. For five years we worked together, lived together and survived operations together. Then it all went wrong." Sweets said with pain all throughout his voice.

"It was already wrong the second Agent Fuller brought you to that place. What happened Dr. Sweets?" Stark asked gently like he would to a traumatised child he was interviewing.

"There were eleven Agents within the division, well besides us fifteen. Eleven official Agents. At first we thought they were there to protect us, but you quickly learn that we were nothing to them. They would lock us away in the closet for days if we questioned them. They would beat us if we did anything they didn't like. We were nothing to them. They stole money and drugs from busts that we risked our lives for. We were nothing more to them than a toaster. Something easily replaceable, easily thrown out like garbage. We all knew it, but we never thought, I never thought, they would ever do what they did." Sweets said sounding like he was in shock still from it.

"It's okay Sweets." Booth said gently.

"They were my friends. The fifteen of us we relied on each other. It didn't matter that we were in different five man units, we all still lived together, made dinner together. Some were dating each other. I trusted them all with my life and they did with me. They saved my life on numerous occasions and I saved them. I was the one with the best shot. I was the one that was lookout when they were in a dangerous place. It was my job to keep them safe, my responsibility to keep them safe and I failed them." Sweets said.

"No you didn't Sweets. You didn't fail them. The FBI failed them. Society failed them, the Government failed them, this Country failed them. Not you. They were victims and so were you. It shouldn't have happened to any of you. You did nothing wrong, but try and save them." Booth said with strength in his voice.

Sweets rub his hands over his face to try and shake off the pain and exhaustion. Booth placed a comforting hand on Sweets' back and was pleased that Sweets didn't flinch. After a minute Sweets lifted his head and continued to speak.

"There was this clause in the contract. We didn't think it would ever happen. The clause that states they could kill us if we were no longer useful or a risk to the division. Fuller had been acting weird, all the Agents had been, but especially Fuller. One night we were all alone in the loft. The door was bulletproof on the inside so we couldn't shoot our way out when we were locked in. It always locked from the outside so at night when we were in there, we were stuck in there until an Agent came and opened the door for us. We got stormed by eight armed men in black masks. They started shooting at all of us. I had a gun on me and I fired back, killed five, but three got away. The door closed and we were locked in. They cut the phone lines and jammed the cell phone signals. I was the only one that wasn't hurt. I did what I could for the others, but they all died by morning, they were all dead. Clause nineteen. I guess the men that stormed in didn't know that I was a good shot otherwise they would have brought more men. Agent Fuller found us in the morning. He took me out of there and told me that it was Rasputin Romani who did it. I didn't believe him, but what choice did I have? He placed me undercover that following morning and for three years I was undercover for the ruler of the American division of the Russian Mob." Sweets said with his voice just barely above a whisper now from all of the talking.

"Jesus." Hacker said softly clearly in shock.

"Do you know the rest Agent Booth?" Stark asked trying to keep his emotions in check.

"Yes Sir."

"Finish it. Before I get any more pissed off."

"Romani was suspected in hundreds of crimes, murder was never one of them. They didn't know that he was a mastermind in serial killings. Sweets went undercover and it took two years before he found out what Romani was doing. He had been killing since he was twenty in the name of art. He would kill for the victim's blood and use it to paint his paintings with. One a week after the first five years. He started to learn that he didn't need to do the killing himself. He got a submissive partner and used his blackmail material to blackmail a Federal Agent to cover up the crimes. He would mark the alley wall with the same symbol as a way to show the partner it was a low catch rate place. The blood would be drained from the victim that was random and randomly killed and brought back to Romani to paint with. Every five years the symbol would change with the new partner and new agent. The new partner and agent would have to kill the previous ones. After a while the marking was no longer about the best place for the killing but where in the city it was. He was using a DC map to create an image and then he would have his partner kill a victim in that location and bring back a few ounces of blood. Those locations would be part of the image he wanted to paint. One victim every week. When Sweets was told this by Romani he went and told Agent Fuller, but he wouldn't let Sweets out. Said it wasn't enough and he wanted proof of the other crimes. Something to really show off the division and be granted an official status. For the next year Sweets tried to get anything that would work, but he couldn't find it. Romani faked his death two years ago. Sweets never believed it, but Fuller wasn't hearing anything of it. He released Sweets from his contract early and sent him our way. The very next day he received me and Bones as his first patients. Romani's been killing for sixty years now. He never stopped." Booth finished.

"How many kills?" Stark asked.

"Three thousand ballpark. There's no telling right now how many innocent people are still in prison from it all." Booth said.

"We might never know." Hacker said.

"Yes we will. We will know. I want to know how many of these cases came across this headquarters that were missed. Some of them will be cold cases. That's thousands of families waiting to know what happened to their loved ones and I will not leave them waiting for much longer. This is not going to be a mistake that happens on my watch. It's despicable and goes against everything, everything, this agency stands for. I will not tolerate it." Stark said with pure rage in his voice.

"It's still going on." Sweets forced out.

"What?" Stark said with a deadly calmness to his voice.

"Those eleven Agents are still active and still working in the division. They have another fifteen teenagers, one was as young as twelve working to catch pedophiles. They are still located in the same building. It didn't stop five years ago Sir." Booth answered.

"So we go in there and arrest them." Hacker said with anger.

"We can't. If we do they could have the kids killed. They've done it before and I mean before what happened with me. They've been around for fifteen years they have their own grave pit. If you arrest them without enough evidence to keep them in jail and from making phone calls the kids will be killed. You need a plan before you go in there. And I can almost guarantee you that the kids won't talk. You're Federal Agents just like the ones that have been hurting them and making them experience the things they have. They won't talk out of fear." Sweets said softly.

"I can't simply leave these kids there. What are we doing to stop them?" Stark asked Booth.

"Sweets knew the location of their grave site. Bones is going with Hodgins to start looking while four interns will stay behind at the Jeffersonian to work on the exhumed bodies. Bones wants all seventy-three bodies that had convictions on them. She wants to try and prove their innocence and prove that Romani had something to do with it. Angela was going to check the security cameras to see if Romani was caught on them or if he knocked them out. Hodgins believes there may be evidence of the shooting in the loft, but as Sweets said they are still located there so we can't search it without tipping them off. There is also the trouble of retired Director Vance." Booth answered.

"What about him?" Stark asked.

"He started the division fifteen years ago. He took those eleven Agents knowing they all had questionable actions and morals and placed them in charge of the division. These Agents were criminals with a badge. They would allow a father to molest his daughter while they were searching the house without a warrant. They would take a photo of it happening so he couldn't fight the search without a warrant. All so they could make an arrest. Vance allowed this to happen and allowed the division to be created and ran the way that it has been. He's still on the Council." Booth explained.

"Great, that's just great. I will deal with Vance and these Agents. I can do so quietly without anyone noticing. I will keep you informed of what I discover. I want those seventy-three bodies exhumed and I want that happening now. I don't care how you make it happen, but ensure that you do. Hacker will help you with whatever you need. This needs to be kept quiet. The Jeffersonian will have to run any lab work as I can't trust anyone within the lab to do it properly. There is no telling who is on who's payroll right now. Take all of the evidence that you need and bring it to them. You have my permission to do whatever it is that you need to do to arrest Romani and stop this division. Do I make myself clear Agent Booth?" Stark demanded.

"Loud and clear Sir. I'll make it happen."

"Dr. Sweets I see the gun and the badge what should I take away from that?" Stark asked.

"I have a permit to carry and I was an Agent, I never lost my badge it was just placed on a hold you could say."

"Then consider it off hold. Romani knows who you are, do you have a safe place to be?" Stark asked.

"There's a motel I can stay in." Sweets said.

"Absolutely not. That is not safe or secure. There's a safe house that only I know about. You will stay there until this situation is handled." Stark said as he went into his filing cabinet and pulled out a key with an address on the back. He handed it to Sweets.

"Thank-you Sir."

"Agent Booth take Dr. Sweets there. Dr. Sweets you need to check in every six hours to Agent Booth so he knows you haven't been kidnapped or killed clear?"

"Yes Sir." Sweets answered.

"Get what you need and keep me posted. I will do the same to you. Let's get this one wrapped up quick and quietly the last thing we need is other Agents deciding to tell their friends about this. Now unless there is anything else we all have a lot of work to do." Stark said.

"That's all Sir. Thank-you for your time." Booth said.

"Thank-you for discovering this. Good luck and be safe the both of you." Stark said.

They all headed out of the office and into the elevator. They were alone in the elevator so Hacker spoke.

"You take Dr. Sweets to the safe house. I will gather all of the evidence and bring it to the Jeffersonian for you."

"Thanks I appreciate that. Angela has all of the case files and the names that you'll need. She can give it to you" Booth said.

"I'll call her on my way to the lab. And then I will see you at the Jeffersonian." Hacker said.

They headed out of the elevator and went their own way. Sweets handed Booth the key to the safe house so he could see the address. His voice hurt too much to talk right now. Booth understood and he just took off for the safe house address. It was a good thirty minutes before they arrived and once there Booth grabbed the metal case while Sweets grabbed his duffle bag. They headed inside and Booth unlocked the door. The house was very nice and had a security system which brought comfort to Booth. Booth placed the metal case down in the living room before he spoke.

"How are you feeling Sweets?"

"Sore and tired. Really tired." Sweets answered with barely a voice.

"You need to get some sleep Sweets. I'll call you in six hours to check in. Your best bet is to just rest and allow your body the sleep it needs so you're better tomorrow. I'll come by tonight with some food and I'll explain everything that we know so far. Aright?"

Sweets just gave a tired nod and Booth knew he wouldn't be awake for much longer.

"Do you want this out here?" Booth asked as he pointed to the metal case.

"It's fine." Sweets said.

"Alight lock up behind me and get some sleep. Call if something happens."

"I will. I promise. I'm just gonna sleep."

"Ok I'll see you tonight. I'm proud of you Sweets."

"Thanks Booth." Sweets said with a smile small.

Booth gave a smile back as he turned and headed out of the house and back to his SUV. He had a lot of work to do and he was determined to catch this bastard and end it once and for all for Sweets. Sweets locked up and made sure the alarm was on before he grabbed his duffle bag and headed up the stairs. He found the bathroom and a bedroom so he put his duffle bag down and grabbed a change of clothes to sleep in. Once he had a change of clothes he headed into the bathroom to take a hot bath to soothe his sore muscles before he would get some much needed sleep. He felt better knowing that now he wasn't the only one that knew his secret. Now he just needed to be ready to help put an end to Rasputin and the division once and for all. It was going to be painful, but this was something Sweets knew he had to do and he was going to make sure it happened. With that determination in mind he got into the hot water and allowed his body to finally rest.