Chapter 7
When Naji walked into the room, the first thing he noticed were the three armed men standing by the wall. The second thing he noticed was the four scantily clad women standing in a line in the middle of the room. They were standing single file, one behind the other, so he could only see the face of the first woman in line. Not wanting to appear too anxious, he calmed his racing heartbeat as he stepped toward the closest one to him, eyes flicking over her face and noting instantly that she was not who he was looking for.
He thanked every deity he had ever heard of that it was he in this room and not Booth. One look at the outfits they had shoved these poor girls into, and Booth would come unglued. As it was, Naji was glad he didn't have his own gun. There would be time for that later, but he could not suppress the sick feeling at the obvious inhumanity of what was occurring here. He had seen many things in his career, but he felt that few people deserved bullets so much as the men behind this.
He continued to each girl in turn, his stomach dropping more as he studied each one. If Dr. Brennan wasn't there, he had no clear thought in mind of how to proceed.
When he came to the last woman in line, he froze momentarily, his already racing heart pumping a little faster.
He had found her.
oo . ooo . ooo
When he first recognized Dr. Brennan, Naji froze in place for just a split second. The other three women in the room were obviously drugged and docile, and at first glance he believed her to be as well. But then he looked closely at her downcast eyes, and his breath caught in his throat. Even looking away from him, he could see that her ice blue eyes were clear and lucid, focused intentionally downward rather than staring absently. In that moment, he was certain of it - she was not in a drugged daze; she was faking it. Impossibly, his heart rate seemed to quicken even a little more, as he realized that this could be either a very good thing or a very bad thing.
Naji's trained eye did not miss the tension in her body, like a spring wound too tightly. Years of long experience had taught him to recognize even the most subtle signs of aggression, and he sensed instinctively that she was preparing to attack. His eye tracked a small movement at her side, and his body tensed automatically when he saw the shard of glass she was oh-so-slowly pulling from behind her to the side of her leg.
He felt a rush of admiration at her spirit - wondering how the hell she had pulled this off - but he knew he had to stop her. There were three armed guards in the room, along with the sharply dressed man who considered her nothing more than property to be sold. If she were to attack, Naji would lose any advantage he had, and she would be killed before he could do anything about it.
Naji took a step back, hoping that one small movement would be enough to discourage her from attacking and draw her eyes to his face. Training his eyes on her, he willed her to meet them with her own.
ooo . ooo . ooo
Her heartbeat pounding in her ears and her hands shaking, Brennan prepared herself to attack. As she shakily inhaled a deep breath and coiled her muscles to lunge, she focused her eyes directly on the man she believed was there to buy her. It was an irrational, primal instinct, but she was determined to look into the eyes of the man she was about to kill.
So taken aback was she to discover that he was already meeting her eyes, it caused her to hesitate just long enough to take a second look at him. And what she saw in his eyes froze her in place in that crucial moment. This man was not appraising her body in the leering, filthy way she had expected. In fact, his eyes were glued to her own, filled with intensity. His eyes bored deeply into hers, searching them, and for just a moment she had the impression that he was trying to communicate with her.
She had never been good with reading people - but Booth had taught her so much. Four years before, if someone had tried to make her believe for even a moment that you could learn anything about a person's character just from looking at their eyes, she would have ridiculed them mercilessly - in a strictly academic way, of course, but merciless ridicule nonetheless. But that was before Booth, and before she had learned to trust what she saw in his warm and reassuring brown eyes.
The different set of dark brown eyes staring back at her now were unfamiliar, but they were not the eyes she would equate with a coldblooded rapist. In fact, she thought she saw a few things she recognized there: warmth, compassion, kindness.
Without realizing it, she had clutched the shard of glass more tightly in her fingers, and a stab of pain in her hand broke her reverie. Mentally berating herself for her moment of indecision, she strengthened her resolve and prepared herself again to lunge. She had to. Giving up her one chance based on an emotional reaction was not an option. Now was not the time to risk her life on her admittedly weak skills at reading people.
A very slight movement of the man's hand by his side - the hand farthest from her captors - caught her eye. It was so slight as to be nearly imperceptible to the other men in the room whom it almost seemed he had positioned himself to block her from; but without moving his hand from its place by his side he had stretched out all five fingers and turned his palm outward toward her, a gesture she recognized as 'wait.' She met his eyes again, and this time she was almost certain he was trying to tell her something.
And so in that moment she hesitated again, her breath frozen in her throat, her fingers twitching against the glass shard. This man had seen through her façade and had known she was about to attack - and he had not given her away.
Slowly, she pulled the shard back behind her leg, hiding it from view as she waited to see what the man would do. Booth might have called it trusting her gut. But to Brennan, it was worse than irrational - you don't gamble your entire life based on a gut feeling. She wondered absurdly if she had developed Stockholm syndrome, and was now ascribing benevolent intentions to her captors. One glance at the armed men by the wall, however, and she had to suppress a shudder. No, she believed no good intentions of them - only this man, it seemed. Turning her eyes back to him, she waited. He had 10 seconds to convince her.
ooo . ooo . ooo
Almost casually, Naji stuck one hand in his pants pocket as he turned and walked back towards the sharply dressed man. His questing fingers instantly found his own cell phone. Keeping it in his pocket, his fingers skimmed over the keypad until he located the speed dial button he had programmed for Brennan's phone.
Moments later, the sound of a ringing phone filled the room. Naji had spied the mirror on the side wall of the room - the one through which she had watched him when he entered and was watching him now - and he surreptitiously gauged her reaction in it. Yes, the slight flinch told him that she recognized the ring tone of her phone. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he removed her cell phone and "answered" it. He could see that she recognized her phone, but he knew that wouldn't be enough - she would be quick to rationalize that thousands of people undoubtedly had the same kind.
Speaking in English, he pretended to carry on a business conversation. As though focused on his conversation, he casually walked a few steps sideways away from the men, bringing himself to where he could see her face directly rather than through the mirror. When he knew he had her full attention, he spoke into the phone again with his eyes glued right on her: "The project name is Paladin."
Blue eyes locked with brown, her mouth falling open slightly. Naji nodded reassuringly, keeping his gaze locked on her as he pretended to answer the imaginary voice on the other end of the phone. "Yes, you heard me correctly - Paladin. The project will commence tonight, when reinforcements arrive. Be ready."
With that, he turned off the phone and turned his back on her, making his way back to the sharply dressed man. Gesturing in her direction, Naji carried on a conversation in Albanian that Brennan could not understand. A large amount of money changed hands, followed by a handshake. Without ever glancing in her direction again, Naji followed the sharply dressed Albanian man out of the room, leaving Brennan to wonder if she had understood correctly or if she had squandered her one chance for escape.
ooo . ooo . ooo
Naji's hands shook as he reached his car, a reaction he was most certainly not used to. She had recognized Booth's code word. Of that he was certain. But it had still been close - too damn close. He would not have wanted to explain to Booth that he had found his girl alive and unharmed, only to watch her die moments later because she had attacked him…and especially not that said girl had attacked him wearing skimpy lingerie, thinking he was there to buy her and force her to do unspeakable things. The whole idea was just wrong.
He was also a little concerned about the arrangement he had set up. He had led the man inside to believe that he worked for a powerful, rich American businessman. That had worked quite nicely for his purposes at the time. But now that rich American businessman was going to have to show up for a "private demonstration", from which they were somehow going to have to pull off a rescue.
Unarmed.
"Shit."
Dragging Booth in there to play the part of the rich American businessman - and watching him try to keep his cool when he saw her - was going to be problematic at best.
Though Naji had carefully kept his eyes on Brennan's face for the majority of the time he was there, he had taken a quick inventory of any injuries. The bruises on her arms were still plain to see, as was the dark bruise on her cheek that makeup had been unable to fully cover. Perhaps the worst injury he had seen, though, was to her wrists. Still marred by the ropes Edon had tied around them, the untreated rope burns and chafing were bad enough. But one wrist had been so red and painfully raw that he felt sure she had also been handcuffed at some point afterward, probably for a long period of time. He knew how painful that had to be; knew it from personal experience he would rather forget.
Naji was usually a very cool, calm, in control type of person, albeit with a fantastic sense of humor. Not very much could rattle him. In his line of work, he had to be that way. But turning around and walking out that door, leaving his best friend's girl in the hands of those bastards, had been one of the hardest things he had ever done.
He tried to ignore the fact that his hands were still shaking when he pulled out his phone to call Booth. If ever there had been a good news/bad news situation, this was going to be it.
ooo . ooo . ooo
When his cell phone rang, Booth's heart felt like it jumped in his chest and automatically started to pound a little harder. Since he had arrived in Vlore - in record time - he had started to dial Naji's number no less than 15 times, never completing it. Anxious though he was for information, he did not want to compromise Naji in any way if he were in the midst of a rescue attempt. At the same time, the suspense of wondering what was going on was quite actually killing him.
He had quickly located the nightclub Edon had told him about, and had driven past it several times. It had only taken one pass to notice the flashy red sports car in the parking lot. There was not a single doubt in Booth's mind who that belonged to - it just looked like something the ostentatious bastard would pick out. That meant Naji was there, but Booth had no idea of what he had planned. Naji had said to trust him, and Booth had been too preoccupied with Edon at the time to ask questions. For now, he was just going to have to wait, as badly as he hated it. Not wanting to raise suspicion, Booth had finally driven a few blocks away and found a deserted place to park and wait.
As desperate as he had been for information, now that his phone was ringing he was filled with a sense of dread. This was their only lead. What if Naji hadn't found her? What if he had found her, and the bastards had already forced her to…
Booth swallowed hard and closed his eyes as he accepted the call - 'Why are your eyes closed?' Instantly, her amused voice filled his mind, memories of the Gormagon vault flooding him - his body atop hers, willing to sacrifice his own life if need be for her safety. He could almost feel her there beneath him again, her breath whispering across his face. 'I'm just curious…how would shutting your eyes help?'
If he could still sense her so keenly, it must mean she was alive. If she were already gone, he knew without question in that moment that he would feel it. Blowing out a shaky breath, he allowed his mind to answer as he had in the vault. 'It just does. Okay, Bones? It just does.' And it did help, not least of all because when he closed his eyes he could see her, unharmed and safe right in front of him.
"Seeley?" Naji's voice came through the phone, sounding just slightly out of breath, and Booth realized he had not yet said anything.
"Yeah, Naji, I'm here." He didn't ask - couldn't ask - and so he just waited, his eyes still closed.
"I found her."
ooo . ooo . ooo
Moments after Naji had left her, Brennan looked on apprehensively as the sharply dressed Albanian man returned and carried on a conversation with the armed men in the room, gesturing in her direction and clearly giving instructions. Blind terror filled her when the man who had brought her into the room strode purposefully toward her once again. He grabbed her arm, pulling her toward the door. With no clear plan in her mind any longer, the fear seemed to overtake her more easily.
The armed men were pulling the other women out of the room behind her, taking the path that led back to the bed she had come from. But Brennan soon found herself being pulled in the opposite direction, away from them. She was led through yet another maze of turns and hallways, stumbling on the high heels, before being pushed into a room much different than any she had yet seen.
The room was ornately decorated, with plush red carpet and a large four-poster bed in the middle of the back wall. An elegant chandelier hung from the ceiling. The only item that seemed out of place was the long chain attached to a ring bolted in the middle of the floor, and the cuff on the end of it. A sick feeling filled her as she was pushed in the direction of the cuff. There was no doubt in her mind what this room was used for.
The man grabbed the cuff and locked it around her ankle before leaving and locking the door behind him. As he did so, Brennan felt the hot tears begin to rise in her eyes. Frustration filled her as she berated herself for not fighting him before he could chain her. But the Arabic man's voice saying the word "Paladin" still rung in her ears, and it had flooded her with indecision. If it meant Booth was on his way, fighting now could be the worst decision she could make.
But as soon as the man was gone, Brennan could no longer resist her growing panic and self-doubt. Clearly, she must have misunderstood what had happened in the other room. So desperate was she for Booth to find her, she had made herself believe the Arabic man was there to help her - had taken his coincidental use of the word "Paladin" and given up her chance to attack based on it.
And yet…she could not forget the way the man had silently communicated with her, and his use of a cell phone exactly like hers. He had looked her straight in the eye when he said a word that only Booth would tell someone to say to her. That couldn't be coincidence, could it? And he had mentioned reinforcements arriving. Could that mean…
But on the other side of the equation, the Arabic man had then pointed her out to the well-dressed Albanian man, and a large amount of money had changed hands. The rich nature of the room in which she was now held - not to mention the bed - spoke of a very sinister theme to that transaction. How else could it be interpreted, other than an extremely rich man having paid for time with her, a man who would soon be entering this richly decorated room intent on collecting?
The feeling of being trapped suddenly overwhelmed her. In her panic, she completely forgot about keeping up any pretense of being drugged. Dropping to her knee, she pulled frantically at the cuff around her ankle. Desperation had taken over, and realizing that she could do nothing about the cuff, she pulled as hard as she could at the ring in the floor. It never budged. The chain was long enough to allow her to move freely almost anywhere in the room, but it pulled her up just short of the door. Leaning over and reaching forward, she grasped futilely for the door handle, but her fingertips missed by inches.
Feeling herself begin to hyperventilate, some small rational part of her realized that she had to calm down. Unwilling to sit on the bed - the very idea made her shudder - she walked as far from it as the chain would allow and sank to the floor. Wrapping her arms around her knees and drawing them to her chest, she could only sit and wait, not even knowing what it was she was waiting for.
Not even once had she noticed the two cameras in the ceiling, through which her every move could be seen.
ooo . ooo . ooo
Booth felt like his heart nearly exploded at Naji's three simple words. A thousand questions filled his mind, but his tongue could not force any of them out. So he sat silently, waiting for Naji to continue.
"I couldn't get her out, but I know where to find her. She's alive, Seeley, and…generally unharmed."
At that hesitation, Booth's tongue remembered how to form words. "Generally?" He could hear the fear in his own voice, and hated it.
Naji heard it too. He cringed at the unspoken part of Booth's question, belatedly realizing that was the first question he should have answered. "No, no, no… God no, I didn't mean that. I don't think anybody has touched her yet, and she's not nearly as drugged as they think she is. It looks like the worst of it is what Edon did to her before he sold her. Her wrists look pretty bad." Naji knew that if the professional bastards had done anything to harm her, they would be smart enough not to leave marks on the merchandise. But he sure as hell wasn't going to mention that to Booth.
Booth took a deep breath. "Tell me everything, Naji. Don't leave one goddamn thing out."
Naji blinked, halfway wondering for a moment if Booth had heard his thoughts. He told him about the auction that Brennan was scheduled to be a part of in just a few more hours, and how he had convinced the man in charge to give his rich 'boss' a private 'demonstration' before auction.
Knowing he could no longer afford to keep anything back, Naji decided to put everything out on the table. "There's a few more things you should know, Seeley. We're going to have to go in unarmed. I was searched at the door, and I doubt these bastards have become any more trusting in the last two hours. We can't just blast our way in and go looking for her. That place is a maze, and there's no way of knowing where she's being held."
Booth had not yet said anything, so Naji continued. "The next thing you need to know is that they wouldn't let me buy her outright. They still plan to auction her off a few hours from now, and that situation is just too risky. Buying an hour of her time for you beforehand was the best I could do, but it will get you in the same room with her. From there, I can try to cause a distraction on my end, but you're going to be alone with her and you're going to have to get her out. You'll have to go hands-on with any thugs you run into, and the bad news is they're all armed."
Booth's voice was tight, and Naji could discern nothing from his tone. "Anything else I should know?"
Naji hesitated, but knew it would be better to tell Booth the next part himself rather than having him be surprised when he saw her. "Yeah, there's…one other thing." For a man that spoke so many languages, Naji couldn't think of the right way to phrase what he had to say in any of them. 'How exactly do you tell your best friend that professional sex trade operators are parading the woman he loves around in the world's skimpiest lingerie, and oh-by-the-way I didn't look but I've now seen more of her body than you have? Pretty sure there's not a Hallmark card for that.'
Naji cleared his throat a little nervously. "Uh, when you see her…they've, um…well they definitely changed her clothes and made her look like…" he stammered, before mentally smacking himself and steadying his voice. "Listen, I wouldn't even mention it, but I just thought it'd be good for you to know - you know, before you get there and…"
Booth cut him off quietly, surprising him. "I got it. Thanks for letting me know."
Naji had been driving as they were talking, and he then saw Booth's car parked on the side of the road. When he pulled in behind him, Booth disconnected the phone. Grabbing his own supplies from his car, he joined Naji in the new sports car. "Nice wheels. How much you pay for this?"
Naji cocked his head to one side, ignoring the bitter tone to that question. "I don't suppose you'd believe they gave it to me on my good looks?"
"Hell no."
Naji just shrugged. "Come on. We have less than an hour to turn you into a rich powerful businessman. I'm not even sure I'm that good."
Booth's mouth had turned into a small, grim line, and he looked like he wanted to hit something. "I spent most of my money - well, Hodgins' money - on supplies in Lisbon," he ground out between clenched teeth.
"I've got it covered." Naji tried to be as nonchalant as possible about it. When Booth didn't speak for a few minutes, Naji spoke again. "Look, don't worry about it. You know, it's okay to need help sometimes."
A sound halfway between a snort and a humorless chuckle escaped Booth's lips before he could stop it. At Naji's questioning glance, Booth shook his head. "It's nothing. That's just usually my line."
Naji was nodding knowingly. "Yeah. Your girl's pretty independent, huh?" It wasn't really a question.
A half smile ghosted across Booth's features. "You have no idea, Noj. You have no idea."
An answering smile passed across Naji's face. He didn't say anything, but after just a few minutes in a room with Temperance Brennan he thought that just maybe he did have some idea about that after all.
ooo . ooo . ooo
A little over an hour later Booth found himself stepping out of the little red sports car in front of the nightclub, dressed in a suit even nicer than the one Naji was wearing. Naji had purchased it for him in Tirana at the same time he purchased his own, and Booth had to admit he had good taste. An expensive silk tie, the nicest dress shoes money could buy, and diamond cufflinks completed the ensemble. Into his pockets went his cell phone and a fat wad of cash, held in a money clip for the bouncers to find when they searched him. He had not been happy about that last part, but Naji had insisted it would lend authenticity and could come in handy if they were separated. Booth looked every bit the rich, powerful businessman he would have to convincingly portray to carry out their plan.
Every sense was on full alert as he and Naji approached the doors, Naji a step behind him. Booth placed a confident swagger into his step, which to the casual observer would appear to be completely natural. Only he and perhaps Naji were aware of his racing heartbeat and the nervous energy that tensed his frame. He had gone undercover many times, but never had it been more important.
The bouncers were obviously expecting them, having been notified of their impending arrival; Booth was thankful Naji had talked him out of trying to smuggle in any kind of tool or weapon when those bouncers carefully searched every pocket before granting them entrance. Naji relaxed somewhat once they were in the door, but Booth only felt his heartbeat quicken as they entered the club and his eyes adjusted to the slightly dark, smoky atmosphere. With a skilled eye, Booth observed his surroundings, noting the dancers and patrons, and quickly identifying the men who were most likely part of the underground business of the club. Around the bar, several well-dressed men were already beginning to gather, no doubt patrons of the upcoming auction a few hours away. His eyes instantly found the closed, locked door in the back, knowing it must be the door that would ultimately lead him to where he could find his partner.
As it turned out, Naji's concern about how Booth would handle himself in this situation proved to be unfounded. Cool and calm - at least outwardly - Booth strode confidently toward the bar, taking a seat and gesturing for Naji to take a seat next to him, as though he owned the place. He leaned back casually against the bar, appearing to appreciate the gyrations of the dancers on stage. Relieved, Naji fell into his own role of assistant, summoning the bartender and ordering a drink for his 'boss.'
It was not long before the door to the back opened and Naji once again saw the sharply dressed Albanian man with whom he had made the deal. Naji straightened, raising his hand and signaling to the man, who spotted them and began to make his way toward them, stopping along the way to shake hands and schmooze with some of the other well-dressed men around the bar - no doubt some of his highest paying auction customers.
When he arrived in front of Booth and Naji, a conversation in Albanian took place. Naji introduced Booth as his boss, though Booth did not understand a word that was being said. Booth had already guessed who he was, however. When the Albanian man nodded politely and extended his hand toward him, it took every ounce of control Booth could muster to keep himself from crushing the man's hand in his grip and then ripping him in half barehanded. Instead, he casually shook the man's hand, his demeanor aloof and dismissive as he had observed in some of the other powerful men around the bar.
The man was walking away then, gesturing for the two of them to follow. Neither were surprised when he led them directly to the door in the back of the club, unlocking it and holding it for them to pass. As they walked through, Booth was hit with the realization of just how close he was to seeing Bones again, and just how dangerous getting her out of there was going to be. It hit him in the chest like a physical blow, almost knocking the breath from him with the weight of his responsibility to get her out of this nightmarish labyrinth safely.
ooo . ooo . ooo
A few moments later, Booth and Naji were led into another room. This time, Naji was instantly uncomfortable as he took in their surroundings. He was not sure exactly what he had been expecting, but this room was definitely not it. His every instinct was screaming at him that something was not right. He desperately wished he could communicate that to Booth, who would have no way of knowing anything was wrong. For all Booth knew, this was exactly the same room Naji had been taken to on his previous visit. But without knowing for sure if the Albanian man understood English or not, it would be too risky for Naji to voice his concerns to Booth.
The room appeared to be some type of multimedia center, with dozens of small monitors and keyboards. Upon further inspection, Naji concluded that this room must be the center of their security operation, which only served to heighten his alarm. Some of the monitors showed scenes from inside the bar and nightclub area. Others seemed to be focused on various hallways and passages, and still others on ornate bedrooms, all of which were empty. Most disturbing to Naji, one monitor - right in the middle of the group of monitors that were focused on bedrooms - was conspicuously turned off, something he doubted was a coincidence.
Chancing a glance in Booth's direction, he could see the questioning look on Booth's face, but he did not dare risk communicating with him about it. The sharply dressed Albanian man had not yet spoken, and appeared to be observing them both closely, his expression unreadable. Almost immediately the door opened and two armed men stepped in, closing the door behind them. When they took up positions in front of the closed door, effectively blocking Booth and Naji's exit, there was no longer any question that something had gone horribly wrong.
Even Naji almost jumped when Booth's voice rang out. "What is the meaning of this?" Booth demanded to know, his tone authoritative as he waved a disbelieving hand in the direction of the armed guards. Once again, Naji realized that he never should have worried about Booth playing his role perfectly - it didn't appear that there was very much he could not do for his lady partner. Even if the Albanian man couldn't understand the English words, Booth's tone was the perfect mix of condescending superiority and wealthy sense of entitlement that the man was sure to expect from his spoiled clients.
The man had hesitated briefly at Booth's tone, almost as though second guessing what he intended to do. In the next moment, however, he turned to Naji, speaking to him in Albanian. "Since we last met, certain new developments have been brought to my attention." He appeared to be studying Naji's face for clues, but Naji's face was calm and stoic, giving nothing away despite his growing uneasiness.
"Sir, this man's time is of great importance. Do we have an arrangement, or don't we," Naji asked, allowing some irritation to creep into his voice. He was aware of Booth's eyes on his face wanting to know what was being said, but there was nothing he could do about it.
Again, the man seemed to hesitate before carefully continuing on. "It has come to my attention that quite a large disturbance has occurred at one of my warehousing operations within the last 12 hours."
Naji never even blinked. "And? What could that possibly have to do with our arrangement? Your business difficulties are of no concern to my employer."
The man reached into his coat pocket, and Naji could sense Booth tensing behind him, prepared to spring into action along with him if the man drew a weapon. Instead, he pulled out something that suddenly seemed to Naji to be much worse.
The man coolly held up a videotape. "That is the question I would like answered as well - what does this have to do with our arrangement?" Without waiting for an answer, the man walked to a blank monitor - not the same blank one Naji had originally noted - and popped in the videotape. No other sound permeated the silence other than the click of the videotape settling itself inside the machine. Booth could hear his own breathing as he observed, knowing something important was happening and wishing he could understand what was being said.
Conversationally, the sharply dressed Albanian man continued speaking as he hit a button on the keyboard in front of the monitor. "All of my warehousing operations have security cameras atop the buildings, most focused on the front door. It allows me to keep inventory of how many men enter, so that I can be sure my employees are trustworthy. Because of the cameras, I know exactly how much money should be turned in each night."
Rather than video, a succession of still images were flashing across the monitor in full color. "This particular camera is set to record a color image of the front entrance every three seconds. There are two images in particular that I believe you and your employer might find particularly interesting."
With the tap of a button, an image was brought up. At the entrance to the warehouse, the back of two mens' heads and torsos could be seen entering past the money taker at the door. Both Booth and Naji recognized themselves instantly, more due to the clothing they had been wearing than anything else. Their faces were not visible. Booth's head was turned slightly to the side in the picture, allowing only the slightest glimpse of his profile, though not enough to positively identify him. The man was watching their reactions closely, but neither gave anything away.
The man allowed the picture to sink in for a moment. "I think you might notice there are some definite similarities to yourself and your employer in height, build and hairstyles?"
Still unable to understand the Albanian words but clearly understanding the meaning of the conversation, Booth still managed to play his part perfectly. Gesturing impatiently, he made a show of looking at his watch with a loud sigh, as though the pictures had no possible meaning to him. The Albanian man seemed to hesitate again. It was evident that he was suspicious, but he did not want to lose his sale if he were wrong.
A tap of the button, and another image was brought up. Again, the image was of the front door. Only this time, there was a face clearly visible in the picture. The face of the young woman that Naji was carrying was staring straight up at the camera from where her head lay cradled against his arm, her unmistakably auburn hair flowing down behind her. Booth, who had preceded them out the door, was not visible in the picture. To both of their great relief, Naji's face was once again obscured, this time because he had turned to look over his shoulder as he escaped out the front door.
The man was once again speaking conversationally as Booth and Naji stood calmly, both trying to control their racing heartbeats. "While the similarities to the two of you may be somewhat inconclusive, I think you might agree that the resemblance of my kidnapped prostitute to the young woman you chose for your boss is unquestionable, no? You did, after all, mention that your employer has a preference for certain physical characteristics, did you not?"
Naji kept his voice calm. "While this look into your day to day security operations has been quite fascinating, I quite resent the implication that my employer should be involved in such an unsavory prospect as the kidnapping of a common prostitute. However, as we did have an arrangement, if there are no further issues he should like to conduct his business as quickly as possible. He has a pressing engagement aboard his yacht in two hours. Otherwise, I shall require a full refund of your advance."
The man studied him coolly. "Very well." He nodded in the direction of one of the guards, and both stepped away from in front of the door. One of them gestured for Booth to follow, which he did without hesitation, resisting the urge to look back over his shoulder at Naji for any clue as to what was happening.
But when Naji made as though to follow them, the other guard stepped in front of him. "No, my friend," the Albanian man in charge rebuked him as the door closed behind Booth and the man leading him away. "It will be acceptable for you to remain right here. I have arranged some further entertainment for you. We shall see if you and your boss are who you say you are. We shall soon see."
It was no surprise to Naji when the man stepped over to the blank monitor he had originally noticed. He had held his own opinion of what that particular monitor would show, almost since the moment he saw it. Hoping that he was wrong, Naji held his breath as he watched an image pop up on the screen, resisting the urge to swear out loud when the picture came into focus. He had been correct. There, in the middle of an ornate bedroom, sat Dr. Brennan on the floor, her knees pulled up to her chest. Naji flinched when he saw the heavy steel clamped around her ankle and the chain that connected it to the floor. That was not something they had prepared for...the bouncers at the door would have definitely noticed a lock-picking set, he thought wryly as he studied Brennan. Her head was up, her eyes clear and lucid - if somewhat frightened - as they studied her surroundings.
The Albanian man was tapping keys on another monitor. Wordlessly, he pointed to the screen, and Naji watched a video playback of Brennan's panicked escape attempt from immediately after she had been left in the room. Naji turned his eyes toward him, raising an eyebrow as though in question, determined not to give anything away that the man had not already figured out for himself.
"It appears as though your boss is in for a bit of a surprise." The man's smile was now evil, his eyes leering. "The beauty that you picked out for him is not exactly as drugged or as cooperative as she would have us to believe. But then, you knew that already, didn't you?"
Naji met his eyes without blinking, unwilling to give this man the satisfaction of a response, waiting instead to see what type of conclusion he would draw for himself.
As Naji had hoped, he continued without expecting an answer. "The only thing I have not figured out is your intention. Do you intend to rob me? Surely your boss has the means to purchase any girl of his choosing at auction. Or are you attempting to muscle me out of business and open your own operation? What is it that you want?"
Again, Naji never flinched. "I told you what he wants. Paid you handsomely for it, in fact."
The man was smiling an evil smile again as he turned to look at the live picture of Brennan in her room. Her head had just snapped toward the doorway, and she was rising carefully to her feet, her eyes slightly panicked as she watched the door begin to open.
The man laughed as he leaned forward toward the monitor, bracing his hands on the table. "I think we are about to find out. If it is your boss's intention to steal my property, the camera will catch it and both of you will soon die. And if I am wrong - if you are who you say you are - then I can't say I won't enjoy watching. The girl appears to be a fighter." He smirked as he threw his next words over his shoulder at Naji. "I certainly hope your boss likes it rough."
To Be Continued…
