I lay completely still on the ground on top of a hill overlooking an abandoned farmhouse and barn. I survey my surroundings with the hawk-like eyes of a trained sniper. I can see the strengths and weaknesses of the property: the high window in the barn with a great vantage point, or the hidden cellar partially covered by overgrown grass that could be hiding additional enemies. I would feel more confident if not for the fact that another highly trained sniper had scoped the place out before me.

Despite the confrontation that was about to take place, I can't help but take a moment to admire the beauty of the land surrounding me. The contrast between the house and barn are striking. The farmhouse spoke of desolation, having clearly been destroyed by a tornado some years earlier. Only a broken frame remained. The barn, on the other hand, was pristine looking. The wall was painted in new coats of red with white trims on the windows and doors. I can picture beautiful chestnut horses in the stalls, and I wonder why I have never taken Parker horseback riding before.

Suddenly, I can envision so much more than the joyous look on Parker's face as he rides a horse for the first time. I can see Cam urging a reluctant Michelle to get on a particularly large black mare; Hodgins scouting for bugs as Angela sits on a large blue blanket sketching; Sweets and Daisy making out behind a tree where they think no one can see them; and finally Bones. She's the most beautiful vision of all, laughing and chasing after a beautiful baby girl who is wobbling on her feet. The baby girl has Bones' eyes, Parker's nose, and my smile. I can't help but wonder if this is what our child would have looked like if I had let Bones use my stuff.

These are the things I think about with the possibility of death just over the horizon.

I shake my head to return to reality. I don't want to let go of my vision, but I have to go. It's almost 5:25 p.m., and I can't be late. I texted the one person who knew what was happening the word "Strike." It was our signal to let him know that I was about to confront Broadsky. Then I turned my phone off. I would not be needing it anymore if everything went according to plan.

I had already called Cam just before I began my sweep of the area to get an "update." Hodgins had somehow managed to get his hands on the money, and Sweets had some new profile he wanted to show us. I wasn't surprised to learn that the hair found at Bones' apartment matched Broadsky, and I couldn't help but smirk as Cam told me that particulates indicated that Broadsky had recently been on a horse farm outside of D.C. If only my squints knew how close they were! I let them know that I would meet them at the Jeffersonian after I finished checking out this "lead." I hated lying to them, but I had to keep up appearances. They couldn't know, especially now, that I was about to confront Broadsky without them.

I made my way down from the hill to the barn, noticing an array of booby traps along the way. I scouted the barn, holding my sniper rifle close, but I knew the time would be wasted. Broadsky had sealed off any potential extra entrances. The only way left to enter the barn was the front door, the one way I did not want to enter. The honorable person in me relished a chance to confront Broadsky man to man. The part of me who was pissed as hell that he kidnapped Bones wanted nothing more than to shoot him in the back. Earlier this year, the part of me who served with Broadsky, who once considered him a comrade and friend, thought that he deserved a chance to defend himself. I foolishly thought that he deserved a chance at redemption. Now, I knew that he could not be saved. Sweets was right. Broadsky had to die. It was the only way to keep Bones and Parker safe.

There's no time like the present.

I stayed low to the ground as I approached the barn door, knowing that it was probably useless with Broadsky's penchant for video surveillance. I tried the door to find it had been blocked off. Broadsky really was giving me no chance for a quiet entrance. The hell with it! I stood up, took a deep breath, kicked the door open, and ran in with my rifle at the ready.

I only made it four feet before the first round of gunfire stopped me dead in my tracks.

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