"Where is she?! Dr. Temperance Brennan? They brought her in by ambulance about 45 minutes ago! Goddammit, where is my wife? What room is she in? Who's in charge here?" Flashing his badge quickly, Deputy Director Booth angrily pounded on the corner of the information desk with his fist, threatening to pull the emergency room down around the receptionist's ears if his questions weren't answered immediately. After being directed to exam room two, Booth tried to enter the cubicle but was prevented from doing so by the ER physician on call. "I'm Deputy Director Booth with the FBI! I want to see my wife now! Let me through, dammit! Get the fuck outta my way! I need to see my wife!", he roared. Extremely frustrated with receiving so few answers from the desk staff, Booth was determined to push his way into the exam room, but an equally determined Dr. Pettyjohn stood her ground to prevent the unwanted incursion into her territory.
"Sir, I will call security and have you forcibly removed from these premises if you do not calm down immediately." The doctor glanced at Agent Aubrey as he stood behind Booth, silently pleading for his help as she tried to restrain the large, enraged, and thoroughly intimidating man in front of her. "I realize you're quite upset, Director Booth, but there are strict hospital protocols which must be observed in this situation, and we're still conducting our preliminary exam on your wife. Failure to follow those protocols could impede the investigation into her accident. You simply cannot be in this room with her right now...the cubicle is small, and you would be in the way. You must stay in the waiting area. I can assure you that my staff and I will take excellent care of Dr. Brennan, even without your direct supervision." Dr. Pettyjohn stood with her hands on her hips, glaring up at Booth, daring him to trespass into her domain. She held up her phone for him to see and pointed to an area behind them. "I'm not bluffing, sir. I will not hesitate to have you arrested if I need to do so in order to gain your cooperation. Go to the waiting area now. I will inform you about the extent of your wife's injuries as soon as I can, sir." The doctor paused, softening her expression a bit. "I understand that you're worried about your wife, Director Booth. Please...do as I ask so I can return to my patient...please go to the waiting area."
"Booth, come on...just let the doctor do her job, okay? The sooner the doctor checks out Dr. B's injuries, the sooner you can see her…causing a scene in the hallway won't make things happen any quicker, right?" Nodding to the doctor, Aubrey put his hand on Booth's shoulder and gently pulled him away from the exam room doorway and toward a bank of chairs in the waiting area. "Let's go sit over here. The doctor will be out as soon as she can."
"Yeah, okay…I guess you're right." Still shaking violently from the enormous surge of adrenaline he'd been experiencing, Booth sighed and closed his eyes as he leaned back against the chair, trying to fight off the overwhelming wave of nausea he felt so he could reclaim control of his emotions. "It's just...you know...Bones being in danger or hurt…I don't handle that well...not well at all." He was still visibly distraught as he thought about the panic that had overtaken him when he'd gotten that phone call about the incident in the parking garage. Wiping tears from his eyes, Booth exhaled slowly, determined to regain his composure. "How could this happen?" His voice breaking with emotion, Booth went through the incident once again with Aubrey. "The employee garage has controlled access...staff members have to swipe their ID cards to raise the gate so they can enter. No one should've been able to get in with any sort of unauthorized vehicle…and I can't believe it was someone who works there..."
"A witness wrote down the tag number of the SUV." Aubrey pulled out his phone and showed Booth the text message he'd received from the Jeffersonian's head of security. "It was stolen from the parking garage. It wouldn't be hard for someone on foot to slip into the parking garage and pick out a car to steal. People are in and out of the Jeffersonian all day long. I've got agents out looking for that car right now." Aubrey glanced at his friend. "Listen, when I talked to the EMTS that transported Dr. B, they wouldn't tell me much because of HIPPA regs, even when I flashed my badge, but my impression after talking to them is that this could've been a lot worse. Dr. B's gonna be fine, Booth…it's just gonna take some time for her to heal, that's all."
"God...I should've gone home to meet the glass guy instead of sending her. Taking care of the repairs around the house is my job. That goddamn budget meeting came up at the last minute, and then it was just a bunch of stupid shit...okaying overtime pay for the all guys in the different departments who worked on the latest domestic terrorism threat. We could've down that shit via email, you know?" Shaking his head, Booth wiped his eyes with his hands again as he thought of how badly things could've turned out. "What the hell is keeping that doctor?" He turned to look toward the exam room's door, nervously drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair. "I don't think I can wait much longer. I gotta see her! I have to see Bones with my own eyes...I gotta make sure she's alright." He jumped up from his chair and began to nervously pace the length of the waiting area.
"I know you feel bad about what happened to Dr. B, but this is not your fault, okay, Booth? It shouldn't be too much longer before you get to talk to the doctor.", Aubrey said hopefully. "I'm gonna go see if I can find a vending machine so I can get a candy bar or some chips. You want something to eat?"
"Nah, I can't eat anything right now. My stomach's all tied up in knots. You go ahead…" Booth saw Aubrey's hesitation and waved for him to leave. "Listen, I'll be fine, okay? I don't need a fucking babysitter, Aubrey. I promise to be a good boy and wait here quietly for the nice doctor, okay? I won't cause a goddamn ruckus, Dad..." Sighing softly, Booth gave Aubrey a sheepish grin. "Hey...thanks for driving me over here...I was in no shape…"
"Yeah...don't mention it. I didn't want you to get another speeding ticket, you know?" Chuckling softly, Aubrey went to find something unhealthy to satisfy his hunger.
The few minutes that passed seemed like endless hours, but finally Dr. Pettyjohn came out to the waiting area to find her patient's husband. "Director Booth? You may come see your wife now…"
Puffing out a sigh of relief, he jumped up from his chair. "Thank God. Is she gonna be alright, Doc? Concussion? Broken bones? Internal injuries?" Booth's questions tumbled frantically on top of each other as he tried to get as much information as possible before he entered the examination room.
"Your wife suffered a grade two acromial separation on the right side, and both bones in her right lower leg are fractured. She may also have a slight concussion. She fell backwards with a lot of force and hit her head and shoulder on the pavement as she tried to roll out of the way to avoid being struck by the vehicle, but her leg was clipped by the vehicle's front bumper as it drove past her. Because of the possible concussion, I'd like her to stay overnight for observation." Dr. Pettyjohn opened the door and allowed Booth to walk into the room ahead of her. "The cuts and bruises are superficial, mostly due to the fall, I think. It doesn't appear that she has any internal injuries…"
Booth's relief was palpable as he finally saw his wife sitting up in her hospital bed. "Oh, Jesus, Bones! How are you feeling? I'm so glad to see you! I was so worried..." He strode over to the bed and kissed her forehead gently as he caressed her cheek. Reaching for her hand, his pent up emotions overflowed as tears when he began to apologize. "God...I'm so sorry! I should've just skipped that goddamn meeting and gone to the house to meet the glass guy. How did this happen? Christ! I tell you what, you wait 'til I find this bastard…hit and run is a felony! I'm gonna make sure he gets the maximum jail time. I can't believe I put you in that situation. I'm so sorry..."
Brennan gave her husband a weak smile as she patted his hand and listened to him rant about her accident. "It's okay, Booth. My injuries aren't life threatening. I'm still a bit dizzy from hitting my head, and my leg and shoulder both ache, but otherwise I'm fine. On the other hand, Booth, you seem to be trembling violently! Are you alright?"
"Well, not really. I got really panicky when the police called me, and I guess…" Booth felt his ears begin to turn red. "I guess I started to hyperventilate, and I got all shaky. It got so bad that Aubrey had to drive me here."
"Hyperventilating is a perfectly normal response to stress. You're feeling weak and shaky due to the rush of adrenaline that occurred when you found out I was injured. You have no reason to be embarrassed, and no reason to feel that this incident was your fault." Brennan grimaced as she lay back against her pillow. "Going home to let the repairman in was not the cause of my injuries, Booth." She paused, waiting until the doctor and medical assistants left the room before gesturing toward the pile of her belongings that were stacked on the chair next to the bed. "For some reason, I was still drowsy when I left the lab this morning, and I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings like I usually do, so the SUV surprised me when it came directly at me. The driver ran over my laptop, crushing it, but my phone, while cracked, managed to survive and is still somewhat functional. Will you hand it to me, please?" She accessed the list of incoming calls and showed it to Booth. "This last call I received...it came from an unknown number. I stopped to answer my phone…"
"And then the bastard tried to run you down? Shit...I can't believe it. This was no accident…" Booth exhaled slowly as he realized how close they had come to a disastrous outcome. "He was trying to kill you, Bones..."
"Yes, I believe your assumption is correct." Brennan answered calmly, watching Booth's expression change from fear to anger as he processed this new information. "Is it possible that this incident is related to the attempted break in at our house earlier this morning?"
"I don't know yet, Bones, but I'm glad we sent our kids out of town with Max."
"Yes, it seems in retrospect that you were not being overprotective after all." She groaned as she shifted her weight, trying to get comfortable in the hospitable bed. "Actually, I've been thinking about something...but it seems so improbable…" She bit her lip, trying to decide if she wanted to share what she considered to be irrational thoughts with Booth.
"Okay, so maybe it seems improbable to you, but tell me anyway. I know you don't like to use your gut, Bones, but I think what really happens is that because you're so smart, your mind can make connections between random things that average people like me miss." Booth laughed as he saw the slight look of annoyance on Brennan's face. "What? Doesn't that sound better than using your gut? So tell me what you've been thinking about…"
She sank back into her hospital bed and exhaled slowly before she began to explain her thoughts, choosing her words with deliberate care. "I've been thinking about whether or not there is some sort of common thread running through the events that have taken place over the last few days, specifically, Hannah's murder, the disappearance of her child, of whom you are the biological father, the break in at our house, and now the apparent attempt on my life. Those things can be linked by one common factor, Booth, which is how badly they impact you personally. The deaths of Mrs. Jordan and Senator Camden are outliers in the scenario, although they could probably be considered collateral damage related to Hannah's death." She saw a glimmer of understanding in Booth's eyes, so she continued. "I'm not convinced that this series of events is completely related to the Russian mafia. I think someone in that organization is playing a part in the scenario, but I think it's more probable that someone from your past is orchestrating these events to avenge some sort of perceived injustice that he feels you have committed towards him."
"Someone from my past who thinks I've committed an injustice towards them? That could be everybody I've ever arrested, Bones!" Clearly frustrated, Booth started to pace the small examination room. "How would I figure out who this bastard is? I can't go back and investigate everyone I've ever put in jail, can I?"
"However, you do think my hypothesis is plausible, correct?" Seeing his confusion, she rephrased her question. "You believe me, right? If you think that my take on the situation is accurate, you can narrow the scope of your investigation significantly. Whoever this person is would have to know about your previous romantic relationship with Hannah, and they would also need to have access to various Russian weapons..."
Booth paced slowly, talking to himself quietly, until finally his gut kicked in. His face was grim as he nodded at Brennan, understanding what she meant. "I got it...It's most likely someone I knew from my time in Afghanistan…. Probably someone from my unit..."
"Yes, I believe so. Russia was in conflict with Afghanistan from 1979 to 1989. No doubt some Russian weapons were captured by members of the Afghan resistance...the mujahideen...and are probably still widely available in Afghanistan. However, the silent pistol that Hodgins believes was the type of gun used to kill Mrs. Jordan wasn't in production until many years later, so whoever is doing this has someone helping them who has more recent ties to Russia."
A quick knock at the door interrupted their conversation. A pair of nurses entered, ready to move Brennan to the new room for her overnight stay, much to her chagrin. "I don't need to stay here overnight, Booth. I'm fine, really…I can sleep better at home."
"I know, but Dr. Pettyjohn thinks it's best to monitor you in case you have a concussion, so that's what we're gonna do, alright? Aubrey's gonna arrange to have some agents posted on the floor so you'll be safe, and I'm gonna stay here tonight..."
Brennan glowered at him as she tried to cross her arms over her chest, hindered by the sling on her arm. "Sleeping in the chair next to my bed will be quite detrimental to the already compromised lumbar region of your back, not to mention that it's totally unnecessary if there will be agents stationed on the floor. You're being far too overprotective again.", she groaned, grimacing as she struggled to get comfortable in her bed.
"Well, with good reason, right? Some bastard tried to run you over! Look, I've gotta go do a little work at the office, but I'll be back later. You just listen to the doctor and rest, okay?" Booth bent down to give her a kiss. "I'll see you soon."
Oooooooooo
Agents Lopez and McAnally followed the receptionist as she entered Pyotr Chernikov's plush penthouse office to announce his visitors. He was working at the computer on his massive, hand carved mahogany desk, which was set against the backdrop of floor to ceiling windows with a view overlooking the city. Plush black velvet sofas sat facing a very large wall mounted flat screen television and a well stocked liquor cabinet stood next to a stainless steel refrigerator on one of the walls opposite of the desk. The sleek decor spoke of an expensive, understated elegance as would befit a very successful young business mogul. Finally the man behind the desk looked away from his computer and rose to acknowledge the agents with a cautious smile and a handshake.
Lopez leaned over to McAnally and whispered softly to her. "Looks like business is good, huh?" McAnally nodded tacitly as she acknowledged Chernikov's outstretched hand with her own firm handshake and smiled sweetly.
"I'm Agent McAnally and this is Agent Lopez, Mr. Chernikov. It's good of you to see us this afternoon, sir, especially on such short notice. I know your time is most valuable, sir, and we don't wish to intrude any more than necessary. However, we would like to inquire again as to your grandfather's health. Has he improved, sir? We certainly hope we can take a positive report back to our supervisor."
Lopez watched his partner in surprise. He'd never seen her act this deferential toward anyone, but he decided to stay quiet and watch the show, supposing she knew what she was doing…
Chernikov shrugged his shoulders in response. "Thank you for asking, but not much has changed for Deda Vladov, Agent McAnally. However, I did take Agent Aubrey's excellent advice. I called my grandfather's parole officer, who now comes to my home to keep the necessary appointments. That way Deda will no longer be in violation of his parole." He gestured for the agents to take a seat on one of the sofas. "May I offer you some refreshments? Something to eat?"
Lopez started to decline, but McAnally interrupted, giving him a look that meant he should follow her lead. "Some tea would be nice, Mr. Chernikov, if it's not too much trouble."
"Of course. I assure you, it's no trouble." Chernikov called his receptionist and asked her to bring them some tea before settling on the sofa across from the agents. "So, Agent McAnally...Agent Lopez...what can I do for you today?"
"We know how horrible the situation is for your family with your child being missing, sir, but Special Agent Aubrey would like to know if there has been any demand for ransom or any request for special favors so that you may obtain the return of your son. He has sent us to see if we can be of any assistance to you in handling that matter."
Chernikov's face registered shock and surprise. "There has been no ransom demand that I am aware of, which is strange, is it not? One moment, please." He pulled out his phone and spoke angrily to someone in Russian. Ending the call, he smiled at the agents benignly. "I've asked my attorney to join us. Perhaps he can clear up this mystery."
There was a sharp rap at the door, and Sergei Tyomkin entered, obviously nervous about the reason he'd been called to Mr. Chernikov's office. "You asked to see me, sir?"
"Sergei Andreyevich...these agents have asked me a very interesting question about my son's disappearance. Has there been a ransom demand made for the return of Vasily? If so, why did you not tell me about it so I could make the necessary financial arrangements?"
"The letter I received from the kidnapper specifically stated not to contact any sort of police. I have already made the arrangements, and the boy should be returned to us soon. I didn't want to bother you and your wife with all of the sordid details, Pyotr, especially considering Irina's delicate state of mind with her child being missing…all we have to do is to be patient and wait..."
"Mr. Chernikov", McAnally began, "That's really not a good idea…"
Tyomkin waved off her objections as he glowered at her. "I know what is best for my client. I think it is time for you and your partner to leave Mr. Chernikov alone and let me handle his business as I see fit. He doesn't need your help, do you, Pyotr?"
Lopez could tell that Chernikov didn't agree, but for some reason the man didn't voice his objections to his lawyer. "Before we leave, Mr. Chernikov", Lopez began, "could you tell us if you are familiar with a man named Mikhail Polzin?"
A few seconds of silence elapsed before Chernikov shook his head, glancing at his very agitated lawyer before answering. "No, I've never heard of the man. Why?"
McAnally smiled disarmingly and shrugged. "His name has come up in our investigation, and we were just checking to see if there was a connection between him and your present situation, Mr. Chernikov. Part of our job, you know? Thank you for your time, gentlemen, and for the excellent tea. We'll see ourselves out. Good-bye."
Lopez and McAnally walked down the hall to the elevator in silence. As they entered the elevator car, Lopez turned to his partner and laughed out loud. "So what gives with all the nicey-nicey shit in there? You're never that polite to anyone, Cindy...not even Father Everett…"
Chuckling, McAnally rolled her eyes at her partner. "You really should read the interview notes that you and Aubrey put together, Mateo. Aubrey commented in his notes that Mrs. Chernikov was very deferential to her husband...almost subservient. I just figured we'd get more information if I acted the same way toward him. So what do you think? Did it work?"
"Maybe." Lopez thought about their visit for a few minutes. "Based on his body language, I think Tyomkin knows Polzin...and I also think he knows where Vasily is, too, but for some reason he hasn't told Chernikov. He's either in on it, or he's trying to protect the guy who has the kid."
"I agree...and when we find one of the people in question, we'll probably find the other." They rode to the ground floor in silence and exited the building, stepping into the bright sunshine. Agent McAnally pulled out her phone and hit speed dial. Glancing at her partner, she explained. "I'm gonna let Aubrey know what we found out, and ask him to run a background check on Tyomkin. I'm not sure he's who he claims to be…something strikes me as odd about that guy..."
Lopez glanced at his partner as they got into their SUV. "Hey, maybe you should try being nicey-nicey to me from time to time…it might be good to change things up every once in a while, you know?"
McAnally shook her head as she laughed at her partner. "In your dreams, hombre...in your dreams."
Oooooooooo
It had been a very long day, and Booth was exhausted to the point of almost being incoherent. After finishing his work at the office, he'd gone to stay several hours at the hospital with Bones, still not completely convinced that her injuries weren't life threatening. Eventually her pain medications and a lack of rest from the night before could no longer be overcome, and she was sleeping soundly in her hospital bed. Booth would've stayed all night, just watching her sleep, but Aubrey had strongly suggested that the Deputy Director would sleep better and with less back pain in his own bed instead of a small side chair next to his wife's hospital bed, allowing him to be refreshed enough the next day to hunt down the bastard that had tried to kill his wife. Booth didn't really agree, but Aubrey stood firm, citing a phone call he'd received from Director Stark. After inquiring about Dr. Brennan's injuries, Stark had made things abundantly clear...he wanted Booth to go home to sleep in his own bed instead of staying the night at the hospital. The Bureau needed Booth in top form for the difficult job ahead of him. The six agents posted on the hospital wing made Booth feel only slightly more secure. Against Booth's better judgment, he'd let Aubrey drive him home so he could have a bite to eat and get some rest, but not before leaving strict orders with the medical staff that he should be informed immediately if there was even the slightest change in his wife's condition.
Now Booth lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling as he tried to relax enough to sleep. He glanced over at the empty side of the bed. He missed having his wife next to him, and he wondered if he'd be able to relax at all, knowing she was in that hospital room without him there to watch over her. Inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, he closed his eyes once again, willing himself to be calm. Bones would recover from her injuries this time, but what about next time? His eyes popped open again as he thought about his position with the FBI. The whole reason to take the position of Deputy Director was to reduce the amount of danger his family was placed in, and yet, danger seemed to follow him no matter where he was or what he was doing. Maybe it was time to quit altogether...to go into private security or safety management. He'd discuss it with Bones after this case was over...yeah, that's what he'd do. After tossing and turning for several minutes, exhaustion finally caught up with Booth, and he drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.
A figure stepped out of the shadows onto the sidewalk in front of the house, scowling as he cursed the failure of his cohort. The woman is still alive, but injured...not as I planned, but I can adapt. At least she'll be easier to take now...and I can wait...I have a few more days before I need to act.. Shrinking back into the darkness, the figure returned to his car. He'd follow the man tomorrow and find out where the woman was...and then I'll take her from him, like he stole mine from me…..
oooooooooo
A/N: The Russian word Deda is equivalent to the English word Grandpa. I hope you'll forgive the bit of artistic license I used here. I know it's somewhat out of character for Booth not to stay all night at the hospital with Brennan, but he's too exhausted to argue about it right now. Thanks for reading. If you have time to leave a review that would be great.