Chapter 14
Brennan's Office, Thursday at 9:40 pm
"How did you get in here?" The forensic anthropologist asked watching Sam as he kept his weapon leveled at the partners, the leather gloves on his hands preventing any fingerprints from leaving their mark. He now held Booth's service weapon in his hand, his own service weapon was in his coat pocket.
"Simple. I said I was here to aid Agent Booth in your security detail and they let me in," the Mobster smirked and continued.
"I see you got my package. Why don't you open it and share with the group?" Brennan slowly got up from her seat and crossed the room to her desk. She picked the small slim brown box up and was about to turn around when she realized her gun was in her purse by her desk chair. If she could somehow get to it then they would be more evenly matched.
"Hurry up and get to your seat or you'll find it very hard to walk with a bullet in your back," Sam warned. She did as she was told and sat back down. Once in her seat she opened the box. Inside was a note and an Army Ranger patch. Brennan pulled the items out and handed the patch to Booth as she read the note silently.
"It's a mock newspaper article about a murder suicide. How do you plan on getting away with this?" She asked.
"Quite simply actually. I shoot you and then I force Booth to shoot himself with his service weapon. It'll be a tragic event. The FBI agent sworn to protect the famous Dr. Temperance Brennan snapping over his failure to catch a mole that was right under his nose. In a fit of anger he kills you. Upset over what he has done, he kills himself. Later his son, Parker, will have to live with the knowledge that his father left him a legacy of disgrace both in the secular and religious departments," Sam told them.
"You sick son of a bitch," Booth swore at him and made a move to get off the couch. The ex-FBI information man quickly stood and placed the business end of the Glock to Brennan's temple.
"You don't want to spoil the fun just yet, do you?" He asked. The FBI agent settled back into the couch.
"That's what I thought; anything to keep the woman your banging safe. So much for the rules about dating your partner," Sam said much to their surprise as she sat back down.
"And you're one to follow the rules huh? What about 'Fidelity, Bravery, Integrity'?" Booth wondered as he recited the FBI's motto.
"It was replaced by making good money; now no more fooling around. How do you want her to die? Quick and painless or slow and painful?" The Mobster asked as he leveled his weapon at Brennan. She looked to Booth and then back at the gun pointed at her. Thousands of thoughts ran through her head, things she never got to say or do.
"No requests, then I'll do it my way," Sam said as he began to squeeze the trigger when Brennan practically shouted out a question.
"How are you going to cover the noise? Security will be in here faster than you can blink when they hear a gunshot," The ex-FBI information man lowered the gun and smiled.
"It won't matter. You'll be dead and Booth will be too when they get here. I'll be trying to give you CPR when security arrives and no one will know I did it. Once things get crazy around here with the start of an investigation, I'll slip away and never be caught. Besides once the boss is broken out of prison, we'll be taking a long vacation in Rio," Sam told them as he raised Booth's service weapon to the level of Brennan's chest.
"Say goodbye to her Booth," he said as he squeezed the trigger. Brennan closed her eyes and tensed every muscle in her body, waiting for the bullet to rip through her chest cavity. When it never came she opened her eyes to find Booth lying on the floor, blood seeping from a wound in his abdomen. Sam stood there and leveled the gun at her. This time she dove for her desk and her purse. The forensic anthropologist made it under her desk as Sam squeezed off another round. It missed her and went through her desk. As fast as she could, she grabbed her massive gun and stood up from behind the desk.
BANG!
BANG!
BANG! Three shots went off and both people fell to the ground. However, one of them began to crawl along the floor until they reached Booth. He had a glazed look in his eye but upon contact he opened his mouth.
"I'm sorry, Temperance," his words were barely audible.
"Don't leave me Booth. I need you," she said as she felt for a pulse. It was weak and blood continued to seep from the FBI's agent's midsection. She tried to roll him over the best she could, ignoring the wound in her shoulder. If she didn't stop the bleeding… No, she refused to think like that. Pressing her hand to the wound, Brennan tried to stem the precious fluid from leaving its owner. What seemed like an eternity passed before the security guards busted in. Upon seeing three wounded people, they called for EMS and began helping the victims.
"Ma'am you have to let him go, so I can help him," one of the security guards told her. Brennan didn't want to let go, afraid that that could be the last time touching her partner.
"We have to get the bleeding stopped. The bullet could have perforated his lungs or his stomach or his spleen," Her brain kicked into work mode as she tried to get the men to understand. They decided it was best to let her think she was in charge and make it like they were helping her.
"All right ma'am. Let us get some gauze and press on the wound," the first guard told her. He held his hand with the gauze on top of hers.
"How much longer for EMS?" He asked his partner.
"Five minutes," the second guard replied. Knowing this was too long, the first guard asked about the third victim.
"What about the other guy?"
"He's dead," his partner replied. Brennan heard the words but they meant nothing as she focused on helping Booth.
"Temperance," the word reached her ears and she leaned down to her partner.
"I'm here," she said.
"I love you," he whispered.
"I love you too," she whispered back. That's when his eyes rolled back into his head and the security guard lost his pulse.
"I've lost him," he said. Quickly his partner moved from trying to tend to Brennan's wound to trying to bring Booth back. He began chest compressions and forcing air into the FBI agent's lungs. Noise crackled over the radio and a voice said,
"EMS is here!" The first guard grabbed the radio with one of his blood soaked hands and screamed into it.
"Tell them to hurry up! We've got one in heart failure!" Less than a minute later, the paramedics rushed in. They pulled out the defibrillator and began shocking Booth. Brennan was pulled away to give the emergency personnel the room they needed. She was beginning to feel woozy from the blood loss in her shoulder and collapsed to the ground. The world went black as she heard,
"I still don't have a pulse!"
To Be Continued…