Hello, people. I must say that I quite enjoyed the reviews to that chapter. I'm not the self appointed Queen of the cliffies for nothing;) LOL. Now, if you want Musie to behave herself then push the button at the bottom of the page.
Disclaimer: Not mine but I play with them a lot.
Kyle didn't hesitate to drop the man in front of him, the report of the gunshot sure to draw the attention of Booth and Steven. Kyle knew he would have backup fast, he just had to keep Dr. Brennan and himself alive long enough for them to get here. Spinning, he took down the second man and reached into the house, grabbing Brennan's arm, pulling her onto the deck and shoving her down the steps onto the sand just as the front door smashed against the wall and two men barreled through.
"Go!" Kyle yelled, making no attempt to join her as one man came around each side of the house. She was reluctant to leave him to these overwhelming odds and he could see that but she needed to get the hell out of here, he couldn't hold off this many men for long. Not long enough for Booth and Steven to get here, he knew. "Run! Now! Get to Booth!" he snapped and she turned, sprinting between the two men converging on her. Kyle helped her out by dropping the one who turned to follow her. Brennan didn't wait around to see what the others were going to do. She ducked low and ran as shots that she knew weren't from Kyle's gun rang out, hoping he would be ok, silently promising to bring back help.
"Booth!" she screamed at the top of her lungs as she sprinted in the direction Kyle had told her to take. Pouring on as much speed as she could in the sand, she was taken completely by surprise when a heavy weight hit her in the back, knocking her down and a hand on the back of her head ground her face painfully into the sand. Unable to breathe, she struggled violently.
"Not quite so vocal now are you, Bitch?" inquired an insidiously evil voice in her ear. "I'll teach you how a real man treats a woman," Newman promised, laughing evilly and licking her neck. Brennan felt the bile rise in her throat, her horror at this man touching her giving her strength she hadn't known she had and she was able to turn her head just enough to breathe without him noticing. She would never know how she did it with the revulsion running through her body, but she slowly ceased her struggles as if she had passed out, lying quietly beneath him.
His hand left the back of her head and grasped the back of the robe to start pulling it down. Brennan could feel his creepy breath on her neck as his excitement rose. Gathering her strength, she slammed her head back as hard as she could, rejoicing at the crunching noise and the howl of pain it elicited. Rolling to the side and tipping his weight off of her back, she tried to gain her feet but he held fast to her robe, so she let him keep it, easily slipping free of it. Lurching to her feet, she started to run only to have her hair caught, painfully jerking her to a stop. Unable to move without the pain bringing tears to her eyes, she stood still, waiting for him to move closer. Wanting him to move closer. She wasn't some poor, defenseless woman who had been drugged until she couldn't fight back and she wasn't afraid of him. So. Let. Him. Come.
Newman felt the power swell inside him as Brennan stood still with his hand clutching her hair. She wasn't so different from all the others. Mete out a little pain and she became as docile as a lamb. And after the humiliation she had caused him tonight, he intended to mete out more pain than she could ever have imagined. He didn't think he would even use the drugs on her, he mused, moving closer and running his free hand up and down her arm. He wanted her to feel everything, to beg him to stop hurting her, then see the fear and horror in her eyes as he choked the life out of her. Oh, yes, she would pay for thwarting him and it would start now.
Suddenly releasing his hold on her hair, he spun her around and backhanded her across the face, knocking her to the sand. She was on her feet before he could get near enough to put his hands on her again and he was enraged to see her smile tauntingly at him. How dare she not be cowed in his presence? She had seen what he could do. Well, she would learn before the night was over that he was to be feared. Leaping forward, he was stunned to be met by a blow to his chest from the heel of her hand powerful enough to have him staggering back several steps and leave him temporarily unable to breathe.
Straitening from her almost kneeling stance, Brennan carefully watched her opponent, hoping he wouldn't give up and run away crying like most bullies. She wasn't anywhere near finished with him yet. Angela decided to help her out. "What's the matter, jerkwad? Don't know what to do with a woman when she's not drugged unconscious?" Thanks, Ange, Brennan smiled as Newman let out a howl of outrage and came barreling toward her. You're welcome, Sweetie. Now kick his ass, Bren. Brennan was happy to comply, ducking under his outstretched arms and quickly delivering a hard right followed by a left to the kidneys. She didn't want him out of commission quite yet and she knew that a man like him would never understand or care about the pain and devastation he had caused so many others but she could, at least, make him understand physical pain. And with her training as a forensic anthropologist, she knew exactly where and how hard to hit to cause maximum pain without incapacitating him. Her training in the martial arts gave her the skill and control to use that knowledge and she had never been so glad of either or felt so justified in their use.
Booth and Steven were instantly on their feet, sprinting toward the beach house before the report of the first gunshot died away. Since they were so close to the road, both men headed for the firmer surface knowing they would make better time on it than in the dragging sand. Steven dragged out his radio, trying to contact the agent watching the house but got no response. Booth's gut clenched in fear as he raced toward the sound of the many, many gunshots peppering the night. There was definitely more than one shooter. It didn't take long to reach the beach house but it seemed like a lifetime to Booth who's only thought was to get to Brennan and keep her safe.
Crouching low as they approached the front of the house, Booth and Steven used the foliage as cover to get as close as possible. The shooting had stopped and they both knew that wasn't a good sign. Booth could see that the front door stood open and indicated he would enter through the front while Steven should work his way around to the back of the house. Booth approached the open door at an angle and saw two men moving around inside. They appeared to be smashing everything in sight but that was good. It made it less likely they would hear him coming. He didn't see guns in their hands but, from all the bullets flying earlier, he had to assume they were armed and he would take them down without hesitation. Craning his neck, he scanned as much of the room as he could but couldn't catch a glimpse of Brennan or Kyle. This could mean they had gotten out and gotten to safety, he told himself but the knot of fear and dread in his gut didn't believe it.
Seeing Steven silently work his way onto the deck and glance in his direction, Booth nodded and stepped inside the room, his gun extended at shoulder level. "Freeze. FBI." He didn't hesitate to take out both men in the dining room as they turned toward him, raising guns as they turned. He heard running feet hit the deck and Steven shout out the standard warning followed by two almost simultaneous gunshots. Steven stepped back into view so Booth knew the bad guy was neutralized. Using hand signals to coordinate, Booth and Steven swept the living room, dining room and kitchen. Even though Booth knew this was the only safe way to secure the scene, he was almost beside himself to get to the bedroom, certain that if Kyle hadn't gotten Brennan out of the house entirely, he would find her safely ensconced in the bathroom. He didn't. The fact that Kyle wasn't there either was the only thing that kept him from full scale panic.
"Where would Kyle take her?" Booth demanded of Steven. "And why the hell hasn't he called in his position?" Steven was wondering the same thing. It wasn't like his people not to follow protocol. Pulling out his cell phone, Steven checked his signal then tried to dial out, flipping it closed and sticking it back in his pocket.
"Jammer," he told the pacing, agitated Booth. "It's probably on one of them," he pointed at the dead guy visible through the bedroom doorway. Not at all squeamish, Steven strode into the other room and began to methodically search the pockets of one of the fallen men. Booth followed and took the other one. Nothing. "There are two more on the deck," Steven told him, leading the way. Still nothing and Booth was starting to feel tendrils of panic take a tenacious hold. "There's one more on the sand, Booth. I'll take him." Booth nodded and started pacing, repeatedly running a hand over the nape of his neck. Where the hell was she? Was she ok? Had Kyle been trying to call them and just hadn't been able to get through because of the jammer? Oh, please, God, let her be safe.
"Got it," Booth heard as Steven held the device up triumphantly then switched it off. "Son of a bitch. Booth, call an ambulance. It's Kyle and he's been shot at least twice." Booth had his phone out instantly but was off the deck and at Steven's side almost as fast. Kyle was hidden in the shadows cast by the patio and probably wouldn't have been noticed for quite some time if they hadn't had to search for the jammer. It looked like the bullet he had taken to the shoulder had propelled him over the banister backward and he was lying, unconscious, face down in the sand. After helping Steven turn Kyle over, Booth ran back inside the house and grabbed towels to stop the bleeding. Finally getting an answer at Bali's equivalent of 911, he gave them the information they needed to send medical assistance, then called Dr. Samuels who promised to be there in less than 5 minutes. Having done everything he could for his fellow agent, Booth could no longer control his panic. Where the hell was Brennan? Had she been taken? Was that monster hurting her right now because he had failed to protect her? Or had she gotten out? Was she hiding somewhere, scared and alone waiting for him to find her when he had no idea where to look?
"Steven, who's on Newman?" Booth barked. Steven looked up from putting pressure on the wound in Kyle's left shoulder that was bleeding profusely. The other bullet had taken a pretty deep gouge out of his side but it had almost stopped bleeding on its own.
"Lipinski. Phone's in my shirt pocket," he told Booth who wasn't shy about jerking out the phone. "Speed dial #3," Steven supplied when Booth looked at him in question.
"Where's Newman?" Booth demanded without identifying himself but Lipinski knew his voice.
"Do you have eyes on him right now?" Booth asked after being told Newman was in his office at the resort. Booth's mouth tightened at the answer.
"I want you to go into that office right now and visually verify that he is in there." Booth's mouth tightened as he got attitude that he wasn't in the mood for.
"I don't give a damn if you did see him go in and he hasn't come back out, Lipinski. I've got six dead bad guys, one agent down and a missing partner so get off your ass and verify that Newman is in that office." Booth's voice was a low, deadly hiss by the time he finished speaking, brooking no argument. Steven didn't even chastise him for abusing one of his men. Everyone knew how the partners were and he could see that Booth was just about sick with worry over Dr. Brennan's safety.
"Get over here," he snapped into the phone, flipping it closed and cursing roundly, looking like he badly wanted to punch someone or something.
"Why did you pull Lipinski off of Newman?" Steven demanded.
"I didn't. Lipinski lost him. Newman's gone."
Brennan shook out her hand. That last punch had been a little harder than she had intended. She had felt at least one, maybe two ribs crack and she had probably bruised her knuckles. He had gotten in one lucky blow and she knew she would have a bruise on her ribs. But she had gotten in several very painful shots and gotten some good information, thanks to her inner Angela, while she was at it but she'd had just about enough of this creep. The answers to the questions she had put forth had sickened her to the level that she just wanted it to be over with. But she had to know one last thing before she took him out.
Newman grasped his left side and bent over, gasping for breath, absolutely infuriated that a woman would dare to lay hands on him. He was the one in charge, the one with all the power and he would make this uppity bitch see that. She would not get the best of him. She had thought she had him by scratching him but the team he had sent to the beach house would take care of destroying that evidence and even if it did get to the police, he could take care of that with a phone call. He held the money so he held the power. He had never faced any real consequences for his actions and he never would. As long as he had the money, he was untouchable and he had enough for several lifetimes.
He had taken one look at this woman and decided she would make a suitable long term companion and possible wife. After all, it was imperative to keep up appearances and to produce heirs to continue his illustrious family name and he had reached an age where it was appropriate for him to marry. Of course, after the PI report revealed that she was the daughter of common criminals, he had understood he could never marry her but, still, she would be a pretty bauble on his arm for as long as he chose. He was so certain she would comply with his wishes that he had booked them the secluded beach house but she had brought along that civil servant whom she couldn't seem to keep her hands off of. It was incomprehensible to him that she would choose someone else over him but that was all right. He always got what he wanted and he would have Temperence Brennan. She and that low class lover of hers had thwarted and tormented him with what he wanted at every opportunity but she had gone too far tonight threatening to spread scandalous gossip about him. He didn't care that every word was the truth; the truth was what he said it was. Women had made him angry before but this woman roused him to a level of rage he had never experienced before. She had rejected and humiliated him publicly and no one, especially a woman got by with that. By God, she would pay.
"Why did you pick Amy White?" Brennan asked conversationally, knowing better than to give away that this was important to her, to show him a weakness.
"Who?" panted Newman, genuinely confused and Brennan didn't think it was from the pain of the blows she had inflicted.
"The woman you killed the night I arrived in Bali. Why her?" Brennan managed to keep the rage out of her voice but just barely. She didn't even bother to try to mask the loathing she felt for this man and his actions. That just seemed to feed his rage and spur him on which suited her purposes perfectly.
"Her? She was just some nobody who caught my eye in the bar." With his words and uncaring shrug, showing that he had no remorse for what he had done, Brennan lost her cool and she went after him.
"Her name was Amy White, you bastard," a hard right to the solar plexus had him bending over, "she had a family that loved her, a family who will never recover from her loss." Jerking him up by his hair, she delivered a blow to his chin with the heel of her hand that had his head jerking back and him stumbling backward. "She was a doctor, someone who saved lives because she cared about other people, you son of a bitch." A sideways kick to the left knee brought him to his knees. Grabbing his hair, she jerked his head back. She wanted to see his face when she said this. "You don't deserve to live but I'm not going to kill you. I'm going to smile every day because you're behind bars being some guy named Bubba's bitch. I hope they pass you around like a party favor and then maybe, just maybe, you'll know 1/100th of what you put those women through. I wish you a long, long life, Andrew Newman." She took so much delight in the horror dawning on his face at her utter certainty that he was going to jail and what would happen to him there that she almost scared herself. But she didn't let it stop her. She needed to finish this for Amy and all the others. Bringing her knee up hard at the same time she slammed his head down, she knew he was out from the way he slumped on the sand. With a look of disgust, Brennan turned away from the man who had caused so much pain to so many. That stopped tonight.