As always, I have greatly appreciated all of the feedback I have received from this story. I hope that you've enjoyed it as I have. :)

Spoilers for The Man in the Cell.

Here's my longest, most action-packed chapter yet, Chapter 11—

(Third Person POV-Brennan)

Broadsky flipped open his golden pocket watch and grinned to himself. The clock was merely five minutes away from eight o'clock now, a short period to wait after all of the planning he had put in to this.

He glanced at Dr. Brennan, a small amount of pity trickling through him as he saw the bleeding wounds that he had inflicted, but he quickly shut those feelings out. There was no need for any pity. After all, he was serving his fellow members of society by ridding the world of Special Agent Seeley Booth. With the F.B.I. agent out of the picture, Broadsky would have better chances of success when he continued to rid the world of the terribly cruel individuals. Booth was the only one who had the sniper skills and personal knowledge to ever have a true chance at catching Broadsky, as long as Broadsky was careful. Booth was a liability issue, and, in Broadsky's mind, he needed to be taken out.

Broadsky's thoughts roamed, thinking of the near future. How would Dr. Brennan react when she realized that Booth would be killed? Broadsky did not care to lie, nor to tell the truth, but after researching Brennan and Booth's relationship, he concluded that Booth would do anything to save her, including rescue the damsel from the grips of a sniper. And Brennan would do anything to take care of herself and keep Booth out of harm's way, including being willing to take a bullet for her partner, if it came down to it. As a result, Broadsky devised the plan to kidnap Brennan and then convince her that Booth was not in danger of death's grips.

Broadsky smiled to himself, happy this had miraculously turned out as he had originally hoped. He glanced again at his pocket watch. Three more minutes.

Brennan's increasing anxiety heightened as Broadsky pulled out his pocket watch another time. His looks of happiness could not signal anything positive.

Brennan had fought back over the course of the past couple of days, trying to escape, but only ended up back in the sniper's grasp. She had multiple bruises to show for it.

But all of today, Brennan had controlled herself into acting in compliance. She would attempt to fool him into believing that she would agree to anything if he spared Booth's life. Although she would fight to allow Booth to stray away from Death's cliffs, she was physically incapable of not fighting back.

She had subtly fought her way out of the binds on her wrists, knowing that her time to escape was running close to empty. She restrained her moan of relief as the ropes loosened. If given a moment of opportunity, she only had to jump up, reach for the gun protruding from the back of Broadsky's belt, and then attack. If only he would turn away.

A muffled, distance sound caught Broadsky's attention. He grinned again, pulling out his pocket watch. The hands on the clock signaled seven fifty-eight, two minutes of waiting left. He knew that Booth wouldn't be late; it was his love and partner's life in the balance.

Broadsky had grown distracted by the commotion and time, as if by Brennan's hopeful thoughts. She knew this would be the only chance she would receive, so she knew to use it wisely. As he was turned, she followed through with her plan. Brennan leaped to her feet, shrugging off her ropes as she did so. She was still incapable of fully functioning her left arm and a little woozy from her head injury, but she put every amount of energy and effort she had left into this attack. She managed to snatch the black gun out of the back of Broadsky's belt, but that was about as far as she was able to manage.

Broadsky had heard her moving, so he was already slightly turning as she sprang at him. He realized her intentions quickly, his body reacting just as her hands closed around the barrel of the gun. Broadsky shoved her back as he reached for the weapon, but he only managed to sway her. She was fueled on determination.

Broadsky's eyes narrowed. No. He had waited too long for this moment; he would not allow anything or anyone to interfere. He immediately sprang at the gun before Brennan was able to raise it to aim. He managed to pull it into his own hands, but Brennan's hold did not release as he gripped it. She glared at him with hate-filled eyes as she poorly wrestled the man who had the upper hand.

With a fast punch to her already bruised, broken, and swollen arm, Brennan cried out in pain, her hands releasing the gun of their own accord to nurse the painful injury.

Broadsky aimed the gun at her as she grimaced, trying to fight the threatening tears. He glanced at the pocket watch that had shattered against the floor. Their scuffle caused it to become petrified, continuously reading seven fifty-nine

Broadsky looked away, bottling a rising anger. He had lost the watch that he had carried with him for many years, all through his sniper duties when he was alone in the woods, only knowing the time. "Come on," he growled at her, "it's time."

Brennan fought to hide her winces as he grabbed her arm and picked up a large section of rope. Her feet were still restrained by their binds, so Broadsky only retied her hands together. He then wrapped the new section of rope around her waist, knotting it tightly.

Perhaps then would have been another opportunity to strike again, but Brennan had nearly no energy left. Her head was pounding and she could feel the swelling in her left arm increase. She was only able to tiredly watch as Broadsky tied her waist with rope and strung it through a metal loop in the ceiling.

…

(Third Person POV—Booth)

Booth had been suited into his bullet-proof vest. It was now exactly eight o'clock, time to meet Broadsky. He glanced at his F.B.I. backup team giving a nod to indicate that it was time.

The team looked at his worried, exhausted features. It was obvious that he had not received a decent amount of sleep in awhile. Agent Lewis, an agent who had worked on a few cases with Booth, gave him a concerned look and asked, "Are you sure you don't want to try to take him out now, Booth? It may be safer."

Booth glanced up towards the building. The entire complex had been emptied out a week ago. When the F.B.I. had questioned them about it yesterday, the attendants claimed to have been notified that the entire building was being fumigated for termites for the next two weeks.

When they had directed a heat sensor at the building, it had been made apparent that only two bodies remained in the vacated complex.

Broadsky had the mind of a sniper, so he knew protocols well. He had chosen a building that had nothing but a park facing it so that there could be no snipers in a building across the street. As a result, the F.B.I. team was forced to remain grounded, unable to securely take out their opponent.

Booth shook his head at his comrade. "Without a clear shot, it's too dangerous. I'll go in and signal when to rush in and take a shot."

Booth opened up the back of the black surveillance van and got out. The S.W.A.T. team would be nearby in the building, but everyone besides Booth had been ordered to stay at a safe distance; they wouldn't take any risky chances.

Booth raised his hands to close the doors, but stopped to look directly at the team. Emphasizing each word with a hard look, he ordered, "No one goes in until I give the word, got it? Not a single person fires without my command. Dr. Brennan's life is at stake, and we are not going to risk it."

He waited until everyone had muttered a "yes, sir" before slamming the doors and walking up into the apartment building. The S.W.A.T. team followed Booth in through the building, their feet only sounding a quiet hush when compared to Booth's sniper-trained footsteps. The team had been notified of his commands and would be forced to wait to infiltrate until Booth gave the word or shots fired.

"What the hell?" a voice muttered in his ear through the earpiece.

Booth wanted to question it, but it was already eight-oh-three. He was worried that Broadsky might have become impatient and cut Brennan's life short.

Booth gave a nod at the S.W.A.T. team, braced himself, and then turned to the door that they had sensed people to be in. He was unsure of whether to knock or burst the door down with all of his strength. To compensate, he grasped the knob of the door and flew the door open silently, his gun drawn to the unexpected.

BONES, his thoughts screamed in happiness. Seeing her, despite the blood and bruises that covered her, relieved a pressure that he didn't realize was there until it had been removed.

But his celebration was short-lived. She somehow was suspended outside of a large window in the air, her limbs tied with rope and her mouth gagged with cloth. A rope was wrapped around her waist and snaked its way through the window to where Broadsky held the rope in his hands. Broadsky merely stood there in a pair of black pants, a dark t-shirt, and hunter's boots. He had the cord wrapped around his hands, but was still managing to grasp a gun that pointed directly at Booth's head.

This had been what the F.B.I. team saw. A woman, Dr. Brennan, was being dangled from a window.

Booth's gun was aimed at Broadsky's heart as he realized why Broadsky held his partner dangerously suspended in the air. If he killed Broadsky . . . Booth clenched his teeth together at the severity of the situation. If Broadsky died, so would Brennan. The rope would be released from his grasp before anyone could catch her.

"Brennan's not apart of this," Booth growled menacingly. "Let her go!"

Broadsky's face flickered into a grin, anticipating the phrase. Part of the rope slid through his grasp, allowing Brennan's body to jerk in response to the minor fall. Booth jumped, unsuspecting the move, but stopped when the rope was released no further.

Broadsky chuckled. "You should be careful of what you say, Booth." He eyed Booth's trained gun. "And what you do."

Booth glared and held the gun tighter. "What is it you want from her, Broadsky? It was always just you and me."

Broadsky stared back. "I warned you, Booth. I'm not to blame if you didn't listen."

Booth was unsure of what he done to anger Broadsky since their last encounter in Booth's apartment. Broadsky realized this and continued his spiel. "You continued to investigate the murders. Regina Hoffman and Bernard Ruiz had committed many terrible crimes in their life, Booth. If I didn't end their lives, they would ever stop hurting others. I did this country a favor."

Booth recognized the names to be two victims found a month ago. Indeed, they had both been suspected of murders, but never convicted. No other evidence had been about the suspected criminals, other than their identities and causes of death. Broadsky had never been suspected of ending their lives because they had both died from a strangling. Booth eyed Broadsky, annoyed that Broadsky had hidden tallies that Booth didn't know about. "What? You're done with just shooting people now?"

Broadsky stared calmly at Booth's intimating glare. In his hands, he twirled the rope dangerously, reminding Booth that he was in charge of their meeting. "I felt a need to broaden my horizons." In reality, although he would never admit to it, Broadsky wanted to avoid being blamed for the murders. He was afraid that Booth would eventually catch him one day. This, paired with Booth's indirect role in Paula Ashwaldt's suicide, had caused Broadsky to pass the point of no return and target Booth personally.

Booth's fingers itched to pull the trigger on his gun, not to kill a man, but to save the lives of those he loved. But he knew that if he did so, he would lose Bones all the same. Booth glowered at the sniper. "If you don't release Doctor Brennan safely to the F.B.I., then you'll be leaving in a body bag, Broadsky."

Broadsky was about to retort and add to their bickering, but Brennan caught their attention. She had somehow managed to remove the gag from her mouth and able to speak. "Booth! It's essential that you leave immediately!" she shouted frantically at him in her scientist vocabulary, despite the fact that she was perilously dangling over one hundred and twenty-six feet of empty air. "He's going to kill me, no matter what you do!"

"Bones, I'm not leaving you," Booth insisted as Broadsky growled at her to keep her mouth shut.

It was odd that Brennan had waited her entire life for someone, anyone, to remain a constant in her life. She had been abandoned too many times, more than anyone ever deserved. Now that she had finally regained her family, friends, and a love, she was being forced to let them leave her side again. It angered Booth, and he knew of nothing that would keep him away from her.

"Please!" she begged. She didn't want Booth to leave, not for the world, but she would rather spare his heart than her own. Booth had a son to live for. No one would benefit from witnessing her death. She knew that the odds were not in her favor, but she fought to make Booth leave anyways. He didn't deserve this. "You need to be with Parker."

Broadsky angled his body towards her while his gun remained aimed at Booth's skull. He had planned this event for many weeks now, and her words were never scheduled. "Be quiet!" he attempted to hush the woman who spoke her mind under all circumstances. His orders went ignored as Booth and Brennan fought internal conflicts of their own.

Booth shook his head. "This is a little more of a pressing matter right now, Bones."

"Booth!" she began to try again.

Broadsky growled and released a large section of rope that was left in his hands, slipping though his grasp to the point where he was supporting Brennan's life by the ends of the cord.

Brennan jerked violently as she was lowered a couple of feet further. She gasped, but managed to restrain any shrieks.

"Bones!" Booth called out taking a step forward. He paused his movements when Brennan stopped hers. From the corner of his eye, Booth noticed the gun in Broadsky's hand was pointing directly at Booth's head, a warning of the consequences of moving forward. Booth clenched his jaw, his own gun's barrel continuing to stare right back at the enemy, when he noticed the limited amount of rope left in Broadsky's hands.

Booth cursed himself for not shooting Broadsky sooner. Maybe if he had, then he would have had time to catch Brennan too. But the small amount of rope left was an indicator that any chances at catching her safely were too slim to risk now.

Booth now understood the stupid use of the title of the meeting, that it was a Gamblers Anonymous meeting. He would gave to gamble that he could save Brennan if he wanted to take out Broadsky.

Broadsky partially masked the pleasure he felt at seeing Booth's reactions. "We could have worked together, Booth. We could have made this world a hell of a lot better than it is."

Booth shook his head with a hard look in his eyes. "Jacob, you need to look at your own actions. You're becoming one of the people that you've been hunting down."

"I thought you, of all people, would have understood, Booth," Broadsky muttered, shaking his head disappointedly. "You were one to participate in serving this nation, too. That's what I've been doing now."

"Jake, look at yourself!" Booth insisted in frustration. "You're nothing better than those other criminals before you. You're harming a forensic anthropologist who devoted her life to helping others! How does that help people?"

Broadsky shook his head. "No, Seeley. Stopping you two will save many others." He smirked to mask his annoyance that Booth's words had gotten to him. "And now I'm done talking. You'll be out of the equation soon enough."

"Do you want us to step in, Booth?" a worried voice asked Booth through his earpiece.

"No," Booth murmured.

Broadsky smiled and cocked his gun. "Drop your weapon, Booth."

"We're coming in," the voice insisted.

"No," Booth denied both men. He was calling his bluff. Broadsky had to know that his life was a stake, and that to carry on with his work, he would need to stay alive.

"A five second warning, then?" Broadsky suggested with a cocked eyebrow. "I find that it eases the conscience to give warnings."

Booth's hands hesitated to pull an already cocked gun as the man in his ear insisted they take out Broadsky.

"Five," Broadsky began.

No. They couldn't take out Broadsky. Booth wouldn't let Brennan die. He couldn't allow that. He needed to have the winning hand of cards.

"Four."

But how could he save her life if he was dead himself?

"Three."

Maybe if he just ran, flat out sprinted to her, he could reach her.

"Two."

How could he be asked to gamble her life like this?

"One."

Two deafening shots rang out as soon as the last syllable of 'one' sounded.

Booth felt a bullet skim past his bicep, but never find purchase. It had merely grazed him and lodged into the wall behind him, for the shooter had been unable to make a clear shot when he held a bullet in the concaves of his chest.

Broadsky, with a look of astonishment branded into his features, watched his shirt as it began to absorb the pooling blood. His gun clattered to the ground as he gripped his bloodied chest.

Everything after that seemed to step out of slow motion and into fast-paced action. In the same moment that Broadsky released his weapon, the hand supporting Brennan's life-line began to slip. The rest of the rope ran through his fingers and began edging towards the window to lead Brennan to her certain demise.

Booth had anticipated this reaction, and he leaped forward as soon as he recovered from the shock of the firings.

The rope was falling faster now, Brennan's anxious face dropping out of sight. Booth sprang forward and caught the edge of the rope, suspending Bones in the air for a little longer.

Booth began hoisting the rope towards him when Brennan felt it loosen around her waist. She looked down and saw that the knot that Broadsky had tied around her was now unraveling. Her tied hands could only hold the rope, not her body weight.

"Booth," she called frantically. "The rope is unraveling!"

Booth looked at the knot and saw that it had nearly come undone. He pulled her up faster, gritting his teeth at the effort. But the excess pulling at the knot only made it unwind faster.

Booth began reaching for his partner, Brennan just in reach. Then all at once, the knot straightened out completely. With a shriek, Bones began to fall.

Booth called out for her in the most desperate panic he had ever felt. He shot out his arms to save her within the same second. He managed to barely catch her, holding onto her bound hands alone.

Brennan's arm protested the pressure on the broken bone, but in this adrenaline hazed moment, she felt none of the pain.

Booth held onto her hands, trying to reach for a better grip to pull her up. His face exemplified the effort he felt at the dead weight he was supporting. Brennan's eyes began to stream at the sheer terror she felt.

Booth cursed himself as he was unable to pull her up without dropping her hands. It reminded him too well of when he was forced to hold Howard Epps over the railing of Brennan's apartment. He recalled watching him fall to his death and then die against the pavement. His mind cruelly conjured up the same image, but of Brennan falling to her death.

'NO,' Booth thought in a new adrenaline rush. He wouldn't, couldn't let Brennan experience the same fate. She needed to live.

"Booth," Brennan called out weakly, trying to get out her last words.

"We can do this, Bones," Booth encouraged her, as well as himself. "We've done a lot of things. We can do this, too."

Brennan looked up with a doubt, but transformed it into hope. Even if her partner was wrong, it would be nice to believe his words for the last portion of her life.

Booth counted to three under his breath before using every bit of strength he had to rescue his Bones. He pulled as she struggled to push herself against the wall, to help climb back through the window.

His arms screamed to rest, that he could take a break and the pull longer, but he ignored it. He pushed through the ache and pulled Brennan up.

In a triumphant haze, he managed to pull her up enough to place his hands underneath her arms and carry her the rest of the way through the window.

The couple fell backwards into the room now filled with F.B.I. and S.W.A.T. teams. Booth held Brennan on top of him, both too tired and shocked to move, as he kissing every portion of Bones he could reach. She sobbed in hysterics as he cradled her against him.

"Shh," he murmured drowsily. "You're O.K. You're O.K." His coo tried to convince himself just as much as Bones that she had been saved, that she was alive and here in his arms.

He glanced at to the left of them where a Broadsky's body laid lifelessly. Jacob was the fifty-sixth life he had taken. Guilt began to rise up inside of him, and he felt every bit of it.

He held Brennan tighter in his arms, grateful that he wasn't forced into cradling a corpse that night.

I know that the show never mentioned Broadsky having a pocket watch, but I felt that he needed something more to his character. (Random side note for all you English lovers out there-The watch also symbolizes the time left in his life. It never reaches the time he planned for the event, foreshadowing that the plan will not turn out as he had planned, that his death would occur. [He did realize it was a possibility, but he didn't believe it could actually take place.])

So I'm going to write the epilogue next, in which Max's part in this will be said, and then it's a wrap.

Please tell me how you've liked it, dislike it, loved it, hated it, or if there's anything you want me to clear up before the story ends. All responses are extremely inspiring to me. :)