Chapter 6

Brennan lost track of how long she spent lying on the floor as her captor's leg connected with her body over and over again. Eventually, he seemed to grow tired of kicking her, and he knelt down beside her, using his fist to continue pummeling her body. She noticed that after her announcement, he did avoid her stomach as he continued his attack, but that did not stop him from smashing his fist into her face until she tasted blood and felt the warm, sticky substance coating her cheeks. She was having some difficulty drawing her breath, and her left arm felt as if it were on fire. She did not think it was broken, but she imagined that she would have a fairly large bruise there after the experience.

Eventually, the man left, and Brennan lay motionless on the floor trying to catalogue her injuries. She had a broken rib though she could not ascertain which one it was, and her nose was likely also broken. She knew lacerations covered her face and arms where he had hit her; he was wearing some type of ring which had cut into her skin when he had punched her. Bruises likely covered most of her body. But she was alive. And for now, she had to be grateful for that.

As soon as Booth read the message, he called Hodgins over, telling him to see if he could figure out where it came from. Hodgins agreed immediately, and Booth called Charlie to have the other note sent over, too. The FBI techs were good, but Booth had learned over the years that the Squints were better. If there was something to find, they would find it.

Now that he realized that Brennan's disappearance was related to their current case, he moved toward Angela's office, intending to retrieve the Missing Persons files for the other victims, hoping to find something in them that he had missed previously. Before he moved very far, however, his phone rang. "Hello?" he questioned, answering.

"Good morning, Agent Booth," a low voice remarked. "Did you get my message?"

Booth saw red. "You son of a bitch, if you lay a hand on her, I'm going to make sure that you never see the light of day again," Booth yelled. The attention of all the others turned to him suddenly, and he motioned them over, putting his phone on speaker as he signaled a nearby agent to trace the call. Immediately, the agent pulled out his own phone, already dialing.

"Careful, Agent Booth, you don't want to make me mad or I might do something we'll both regret. You don't want to be responsible for the death of your girlfriend or your unborn child, do you?" he questioned. Booth sensed the eyes of the others turning to him with this revelation, but he ignored them.

"Look, you bastard, we're going to find you, and then you're going to wish you never touched her," Booth growled. The man laughed, a low, guttural sound that would have chilled Booth's blood had it not already been boiling with hatred.

"You're not really in the position to be making those threats, Agent Booth. Right now, I hold all the cards, so you might want to do as I say."

"Let's say I do back off. What's in it for me?" Booth questioned, his voice still a low growl as he barely contained his temper.

"I'll go easy on her and your baby," the man offered.

"You son of a bitch, I'm going-"

"Goodbye, Agent Booth," the man said, hanging up before Booth could finish the threat. Booth immediately turned to the agent who had called in the trace. He shook his head, and Booth let out a loud growl of frustration as he hurled his phone across the room. It slammed into a wall, the battery casing popping off and sliding across the room. He looked around at the Squints who were all still standing near him, staring at him curiously.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" he roared. "Get to work!" Angela, Hodgins, and Mr. Nigel-Murray immediately scurried off to do as he asked, but Cam remained.

"Seeley," she began, reaching for him.

"I don't want to hear it, Cam," he told her.

"Look, Seeley, I know it's hard. But just remember that we all want to find Brennan."

"No offense, Cam, but you really don't know." And with that, he shook her off, turning to find that another agent had joined them. "What?" he barked.

"I was told to bring this over," the agent said, his eyes shifting nervously as he held out an evidence bag with the first note. Booth snatched it from his hands, starting toward the platform where Hodgins was analyzing the second note. Before he reached it, however, he had another idea, and he turned abruptly, making his way instead toward Angela's office.

"Angela, I need you to do something," he said, entering her office.

"Sure. Anything."

"Can you figure out what paper this came from?" he questioned, holding out the note card. Angela glanced at it for a few seconds before nodding.

"If I can detach the pieces of the newspaper without ruining them, I might be able to figure out what paper they came from based on the words on the back."

"Good. Do that. Hodgins has the second one if you need it."

"Okay." They stood for a moment in silence. "We'll find her, Booth," Angela finally remarked. "She's strong; you know she'll hang in there. And she trusts you. She knows you'll find her, and she's not going to give up." Booth nodded shortly before leaving the room, moving toward the platform.

"I couldn't get anything off the letter, Booth," Hodgins announced. "No DNA or fingerprints except yours and the secretary's."

"Take it to Angela. She's going to try to figure out which paper it came from."

"Okay. Also, there were a few fibers in the necks of the victims. I analyzed them and determined they were from dyed rayon."

"Some kind of rope?" Booth guessed.

"No, the bruising Cam discovered on the tissue indicates that whatever it was was likely wide and thin," Mr. Nigel-Murray remarked from behind them.

"So what was it?"

"I'm not entirely certain. I've also discovered some unusual marks on the bones here." He brought a magnifying glass over the area, and Booth gave the marks a cursory glance before turning to Mr. Nigel-Murray for an explanation. "These marks were made by something curved on one side and the top and straight on the other." He drew a picture on a nearby piece of paper, and Booth studied it for a moment.

"It looks like a hook or something," Hodgins suggested.

"It's possible. But whatever it was, the killer would have had to slam it into the bones with a pretty significant force to make these marks. There's no way someone could do this by simply pushing something into the bone."

Booth was silent for a minute, his hand on his chin, thinking hard. Suddenly, he recalled something that Hodgins had discovered previously. "What if whatever made the mark was attached to whatever was used to strangle her?" he questioned. "If that thing were swung at her, could it make these marks?"

Mr. Nigel-Murray considered for a moment. "If the object was about three or four feet long, then yes, it should generate enough force to make this damage."

"Are you thinking a whip or something?" Hodgins queried.

Booth shook his head. "It was a leash."

"A leash? Like a dog leash?"

"Yes. You said you found dog urine on the jewelry. If our guy owns a dog, it would make sense for him to also own a leash." Booth felt a sinking feeling in his stomach, vividly recalling the last encounter he had had with a kidnapper who owned dogs.

Brennan was still lying in the corner of her small prison attempting to work her hands out of the ropes which bound them. She had managed to rub her wrists raw in her attempts to escape, but she ignored the sticky blood on her hands and continued to work, taking advantage of the slick liquid as she struggled to slip out of the bonds. After a good deal of work, she managed to free one hand, and she quickly shook off the rope before starting to work on the rope around her feet.

It did not take long before she was completely free of her bonds, and she immediately stood, pausing a second as a wave of dizziness washed over her. When her head had cleared, she began to explore the small area, searching for anything which could be used as a weapon. Unfortunately, she had only just started to move when she heard the unmistakable sounds of someone moving toward her. Immediately, she returned to the corner, sitting down with her hands behind her and her legs bent backwards under her, hoping that she might be able to overcome her captor if she had the element of surprise on her side.

The door opened, and his eyes traveled immediately to her in the corner. With a frightening grin, he started toward her. In two strides, he was directly in front of Brennan, and it was then that she struck. She jumped to her feet as quickly as possible, ignoring the spots which swam in front of her vision as she brought her hand around, fingers curled tightly, to connect with the side of his head. She heard him grunt in surprise, but she was already moving, her foot stomping on his instep before her knee came up to connect painfully with his groin. While he was bent over in pain, she delivered a sharp blow to his back before moving quickly around him toward the door. Before she could reach it, however, she felt a hand grab her shoulder. She spun, intending to incapacitate him once more, but he was quicker than she had anticipated. Before she could completely comprehend what was happening, he had grabbed her with both his hands, throwing her against the concrete wall. Her head slammed against it, leaving her dazed but somehow still conscious, and she collapsed to the floor, momentarily stunned.

Before she could rise to her feet again, he was hovering over her, his appearance even more sinister with blood dripping from his mouth where he had likely bit his cheek when she had punched him. "A feisty one, I see," he remarked, his smile widening. His teeth were stained red with blood. "I knew you'd be fun, but I never imagined how much fun you could be." He knelt in front of her, and even in the dim light, Brennan saw the glint of silver as he removed a knife from a sheath on his belt. Whimpering slightly, she began to struggle to stand and move away from the weapon. With a laugh, he brought his free hand to her chest, pushing her back so that she was lying on the cool concrete floor. Brennan struggled, but he was heavier than her, and he had moved so that his entire weight was pressing her into the floor.

With wide eyes, she watched as he brought the knife closer to her, letting the flat part of the blade touch the skin of her neck. The feel of the cool metal caused her to jerk slightly, and he let out another laugh. Carefully, he drew the knife to the right, letting it trail down her arm before beginning the journey back up and to the other side. When he reached her hand, he tilted the knife forward, allowing the tip to dig into her skin slightly, just enough to let her feel the pain and to draw a small amount of blood. Brennan felt the warm liquid pool on the palm of her hand before beginning to slowly slide down, joining the blood which still coated her wrists from her attempts to escape.

The knife suddenly left her skin, but her relief was short-lived, for his finger soon replaced it, tracing over her skin and sending cold chills down her spine. She was well aware of where he was headed, and she redoubled her struggling in an attempt to escape, but he was simply too strong and she already somewhat weakened from loss of blood and her previous injuries. His finger traced down her side, reaching the hem of her shirt. He played with it for a minute before dropping it again. Leaning over, he brought his lips to her ear. "The anticipation's killing me," he whispered.

Without warning, Brennan brought her head forward, colliding forcefully with his head. She felt pain shoot through her, but she ignored it, using his momentary daze to push upward with all her strength, forcing his body off hers. With a growl, he grabbed her ankle before she could run, and she fell to the floor again. He was on top of her before she could react, reaching behind her to retrieve the ropes. She felt him loop them around her wrists, pulling them tight against her skin. Pain shot through her arms as the ropes dug into the already raw skin of her wrist. Once she was tied again, he stood, reaching behind him to retrieve something. It glinted slightly in the dim light, and for a moment, Brennan thought he had pulled out the knife again. As he raised the object above his head, however, she realized it was not the knife. With a shout of rage, he swung his arm forward, and the object swung out, the metal clasp at the end colliding painfully with her side. She let out an involuntary moan as her body curled up, trying to shield itself from the next hit.

Booth interviewed the secretary but learned nothing more about the man who had given her the letter. Thoroughly frustrated, he returned to the lab, and the figure he saw just inside the glass walls of the lab did nothing to decrease his frustration. Booth's eyes narrowed in on his target as his strides grew more purposeful. In no time at all, he had moved through the glass doors into the lab, his eyes still set on Sully who stood in front of him, looking completely relaxed and carefree. He seemed to sense Booth's presence, for he turned, and a wide smile broke out. "Booth, hey, I just came by to see Tempe, thought maybe she-"

Sully never had a chance to finish his sentence, for Booth's fist suddenly connected painfully with his nose. Sully's hands flew to his face as blood flowed beneath his fingers, but Booth was not through with him yet. With a roar of rage, Booth pulled his arm back again, intending to show Sully just what happened when he messed with Brennan, but another hand held him back. "He's not worth it, Seeley," Cam said firmly, her hand gripping his arm.

"He kissed Bones," Booth hissed through clenched teeth.

"Hitting him is not going to change that," Cam told him. "All it's going to do is get you in trouble. And right now, you can't focus on that. You need to worry about finding Dr. Brennan." Booth's eyes met hers, and he took a deep breath before nodding. As he started back toward the central platform, Cam turned to Sully and tossed him a roll of paper towels. "Clean yourself up and get out of here," she instructed. "I don't want you bleeding all over my lab."

"I always thought you liked me, Cam," Sully remarked, his words muffled due to the flow of blood from his nose. Taking a couple paper towels, he held them firmly under his nose, tilting his head forward. "Geez, I think he broke it."

"You should have known he would if you started messing with Brennan."

"Yeah, but I really couldn't help myself. I honestly did come to apologize though."

"Now's not the best time. Come back some other time, and he might be more receptive. Of course, I can't guarantee that."

"What's going on anyway?"

"Brennan's missing."

"What? How?"

"She was taken last night."

"Well, that explains why Booth looks like shit. Can I help?"

"There's nothing for you to help with, Sully. Go home and let us do our jobs." Of course, Sully did not listen. He followed Cam further into the lab, still holding paper towels tightly against his nose. Fortunately, Booth did not see him or he likely would have ended up with much more than a broken nose.

"I've got an identity for your newspaper," Angela announced as Booth approached. "Whoa, what happened to your hand?" Booth glanced down at his hand as if just noticing it for the first time. His knuckles were bleeding, and he noticed slight swelling in his index finger.

"Nothing. What did you find?"

"It was the Northern Virginia Daily," Angela informed him. "Which is lucky for us because it has a fairly small circulation. Well, comparatively at least. About 67,000 households. I got a map of its circulation." Angela held up a map of Virginia with part of the northern area colored in red.

Booth glanced quickly at it. "With Hodgins' bug, we can narrow it down to here," he remembered, circling a small area near the coast. With a frustrated sigh, he shook his head. "Dammit, that's still too large of an area. It'll take us forever to check."

"I think I can help with that," Hodgins announced from behind them. "There were some hairs on the bodies. They weren't human, so I took a closer look and realized that they belonged to dogs."

Booth had to stop himself from strangling the scientist. "We know he has a dog, Hodgins. That still doesn't help."

"No, you misunderstand. These hairs don't just come from one dog. There are hairs from at least a dozen different breeds here, maybe more."

"So he owns a lot of dogs?"

"I'm not sure if he owns them. I was trying to think of where he might keep the women for long periods of time, and I realized it would likely be some sort of abandoned building. The dog hairs indicate that it might have once been a kennel or something similar." Booth's eyes suddenly grew wide.

"You know, Hodgins, I may have underestimated you."

"I'll run a search for all old kennels in the area," Hodgins said, his voice growing more excited as he took a seat in front of the computer. Booth stood over his shoulder, watching impatiently as the computer searched. In a few seconds, a map appeared with three yellow dots. "Three possibilities, but this one is the most likely," Hodgins said, pulling up the information for one of the locations. Booth read the address, committing it to memory before turning to leave, already dialing for back up.

"Send those other addresses to me," he called back to Hodgins as he left.

After her captor had left her for the second time, Brennan remained still for a few minutes, trying to retain consciousness. She could no longer accurately catalogue all her injuries; blood poured from numerous points on her body, and she felt as if she had contusions over every inch of her skin. The pain was almost unbearable, but she forced herself to ignore it, focusing instead on what she was going to do when Booth found her. Because she had no doubt that Booth would find her. Hodgins had told her it was faith, but she liked to believe that it was a reasonable conclusion based on past experience. Booth had never failed her before, and he would not fail her now.

And so she focused on Booth, on the feel of his strong arms and warm lips, on the deep cadence of his voice which always seemed to soothe her, and on his warm brown eyes that she often found mesmerizing. Thoughts of Booth brought up thoughts of the kids, of Kristen's basketball game the previous weekend when she had scored eight points, of Parker's ability to now recite every bone in the human body. Her hand automatically fell to her stomach as her thoughts turned to the life growing inside her now. She and Booth had scheduled an ultrasound for the following week, an appointment Booth was greatly looking forward to. And if Brennan were being honest with herself, she would have to admit that she was looking forward to it, too. Though she knew that she was pregnant, knew that she was carrying a baby, seeing the ultrasound for the first time would simply confirm that fact, provide visible evidence of the life inside her.

The gate opened again, but she did not look to it. She sensed his presence over her, and his hands were suddenly on her, pulling her roughly onto her back. She closed her eyes, the bonds so tight on her wrists now that she could not move her arms at all without them digging into her skin. Her body ached all over, and she felt pain shoot down her arm as his hands pressed against a bruise on her shoulder. She tried to kick her legs upward, to push him off her, but her movements were weak and ineffective. He seemed to take some form of sick joy in her efforts to escape, and she heard a low laugh escape him as his hands grasped both sides of her blouse and pulled it apart, sending buttons flying to all sides.

His hands traveled all over her upper body, roughly pushing her bra aside. She bit her lip and tried to swallow the bile that rose in her throat at his touch. As his hands traveled lower, unbuttoning her pants, she squeezed her eyes tighter, hoping that if she could not see him, he would disappear. It was irrational, she knew; it really did not matter if she could see him or not—people could not simply disappear.

As her pants were pushed away, exposing the flesh of her legs to the cool air of the room, she heard muffled noises from somewhere far away. For a moment, she thought she was imagining the sounds, but they were growing louder, and her captor's movements above her ceased. She heard shouting and a loud crash followed closely by a familiar voice shouting, "Get off of her!" Her captor laughed, and she caught another flash of light as he once more unsheathed the knife. The loud rapport of a gun echoed around the small area, and the man collapsed, half of his weight on her torso and half on the ground. Before she could fully comprehend what was happening, the weight was suddenly removed from her body and she felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her body.

His familiar scent immediately overwhelmed her, and she opened her eyes to see him crouching next to her, pulling her body against his. His hair was out of place, his clothes were dirty and wrinkled, and dark circles surrounded his eyes, indicating that he had not slept well recently, but in that moment, he was the most beautiful thing Brennan had ever seen. His fingers made quick work of the bonds around her wrist, and as soon as her arms were free, she flung them around his neck, hanging on as tightly as possible. "I've got you, Bones," he soothed, his voice warm and comforting and familiar in her ear. "I'm right here. I've got you." There was a good deal of activity around them as the other agents dealt with her captor, but the two partners ignored everyone else as they clung to each other, each one taking strength from the other as they had done so many times before. "I've got you, Baby," Booth repeated, the term of endearment slipping easily from his mouth. For once, Brennan did not object to it. "I'm right here, Sweetheart. Right here." He pressed his lips to her hair, and she finally allowed the tears to fall. She knew she was safe.