Note From Author:

As promised yesterday - I finally have my laptop back and was able to finish this chapter. It's a short one but I will do my best to update again in the next 2-3 days. Enjoy!

(Side Note/Vent - I am so frustrated w/ today cuz it's not SAVING my edits! I like to CENTER the title and border but it just won't save!! Aauuuggghhhh!!)

Previously on Mistaken Identity (Chapter 20) . . .

"Of course Bren, of course I will help you. But you have to promise me you will stop trying to analyze it and just go with it! Okay? Promise me - pinky swear."

"Okay, I promise. But I'm sorry I draw the line at that whole 'pinky swear' thing Ang - that's just ridiculous." Brennan conceded as she was then once again lost in her own thoughts – 'Where are you Booth? What are you trying to tell me?" she thought as she blinked rapidly to prevent the quickly building tears from spilling out of her tired electric blue eyes.

TBC . . .

*BnB*BnB**BnB*BnB**BnB*BnB**BnB*BnB**BnB*BnB**BnB*BnB**BnB*BnB*

Mistaken Identity

Chapter 21

Booth gritted his teeth in agony as the sharp knife blade all too slowly cut into his chest. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut trying to focus on imagining Bone's beautiful face, her blue eyes, silky hair. He also thought of Parker, his only Son whom had become his life. Booth found comfort in knowing that at least Bones and Parker were safe.

Though it seemed like a half an hour had gone by, only a few minutes had passed before the man who was methodically carving into him, stopped. Booth hadn't even realized he was holding his breath, anticipating the bastard to start again or perhaps move to another part of his body before resuming.

"Do you know what I am doing Agent Booth? Hmmm? Would you like to know why I suddenly had the urge to take a knife to your chest?

Booth wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of responding.

"Very well then, I decided that I would leave you with a souvenir of your little stay here. Now since you aren't able to see my work just yet due to your eyes being covered, I suppose I will have to tell you just what that souvenir is." he paused again as Booth again remained silent. "It's a number Agent Booth. Oh I won't bother asking you what you think that number is - since it seems that you have forgotten your manners. Or at least where the old -speak when spoken to manner applies` - he added sarcastically.

Booth could feel the tickle against his skin as warm blood drizzled down from the wound as he waited for the wannabe butcher to continue.

"That number my good Agent is the number 12. Why that number you are probably wondering? Well that is the number of lives that we have been responsible for – you know, under the whole ' Gravedigger' ruse as you so cleverly refer to us as. I have done my research on you Agent Booth. You have a heart of gold and that lovely Catholic guilt as they say, meaning, I know it causes you a lot of heartache when anyone dies. Especially when it was during one of your investigations or someone that you could have saved if you would have captured the killer before another soul was tragically taken from this earth."

Booth felt a fury deep within him over what the man had just admitted. The cigar smoking son-of-a-bitch had not only confessed to killing 12 innocent people, but he had crudely tattooed the number of victims deep within Booth's flesh. This man was far more unstable than Booth had initially assumed. It seemed that even Sweet's initial profile of the personality behind the 'Gravedigger' murders, was also inaccurate.

"You still have nothing to say Agent Booth? Even though I have left you with a scarring reminder of only some of the victims whom have died because you were not fast enough in your investigation. How does that feel hmmm? I would imagine you are angry right now – I am almost tempted to remove that hood from your head so that I can witness the rage in your eyes."

Booth focused on breathing deeply to calm his own seething anger. His hearing being stronger due to his other senses being muffled by the hood, he could hear some movement – footsteps and then a rustling of the tools or whatever they were, as it sounded like one of the idiots behind him, were retrieving something else for their boss to torture Booth with.

"Welll - I am growing bored with this one-sided conversation. I certainly hope that you will be more cooperative tomorrow Agent Booth, because I won't be as easy on you if you continue to ignore me!"

Immediately after spouting his final threat of the day, Booth heard a swooshing of air just before what felt like a heavy steel pipe of some kind, connected sharply with the outer part of his shin, barely below the knee – he felt and heard the telltale sound of cracking as his fibula snapped like a small twig. "There, now I can be rest assured that you will still be here tomorrow - you won't be so quick to escape when you can't even walk." his brutalizer yelled as he was leaving the room, laughing insanely while he walked out.

Booth could not keep silent this time – letting a loud scream of agony escape from underneath the black material covering his head. The next few minutes were a blur of pain as the other two men released the cuffs that were holding Booth slightly up off the floor and causing him to hit the cold ground with most of the impact being taken up by his now fractured leg.

The jolt of pain was so excruciating, that his body and mind took pity and allowed him a reprieve by pulling him instantly into blessed unconsciousness.

To Be Continued . . .

I would have written a longer chapter but I knew I was overdue in updating for all of you (due to my laptop probs!). I will try to update again ASAP! :-)

Next Time On Mistaken Identity:

Booth is once again somewhat taken care of by Lexi - albeit seductively of course. Meanwhile Bones' finds herself in danger as someone attempts to kidnap her as well. Will they succeed? The Squints continue to inch closer to finding their FBI friend as they also realize that it is time to bring Sweets back into the fold - they need his help now more than ever.