Chapter 25
"What kind of help?"
Brennan seethes with anger as Coralilo's mouth again stretches into a smile. No matter his connection to Booth, she doesn't trust this man, and is quickly learning to dislike him. If she didn't know that her injured ankle would prohibit her success, she would reach over and grab the gun resting on his hip, just an arm's length away from her. As almost as if he read her thoughts, he eases a way, his hand casually covering the butt of his side arm.
"Nothing your novio would want to shoot me for, I assure you. My men will not touch you, Temperance. You have my word." His voice is firm, his eyes fierce despite his still present smile, puzzling Brennan further. Who is this man?
"There are bodies that are…. badly damaged," he explains, sitting on the other cot again. He is watching her intently again, all business, his smile fading away. "One may be a man that is very…important to my cause. I need to know it is indeed him."
Surprised, Brennan speaks before thinking. "How badly damaged?"
Before Coralilo can answer or she can voice her other questions, Catalina reenters the tent, carrying a plate and a steaming bowl. The aroma of the food wafts over Brennan, announcing the contents to be some kind of spicy meat. Instantly her mouth waters in anticipation. After the stale bread of her captivity, she is anxious to enjoy what promises to be a delicious meal. Unfortunately, her stomach chooses that moment to twist nauseously, bile rushing up her throat. Without time to do more than lean her head over the side of the cot, Brennan releases the meager contents of her stomach. It is little more than bitter slime but her throat still clenches painfully, effectually choking her on her own bile. Vaguely she can hear Spanish being spoken rapidly around her, but she's only capable of concentrating on her fight to get in enough air between each violent gag.
Exhausted physically, mentally and emotionally, Brennan succumbs to the darkness and passes out.
…
The sun is hot, the rays that filter through the leaves searing any skin they can land on. The very air is heated, making Booth feel as if he is standing in an oven. For what felt like the tenth time in the last minute, he swipes the sweat from his eyes. He tugs irritably on his shirt, pulling the material away from his damp torso. Being soaked with his own sweat wouldn't bother him if he knew they were moving closer to Brennan or Coralilo. But Thin Man isn't saying where they're headed, not in a way that satisfies Booth.
But even that isn't what has his anger boiling. Because even if he doesn't know where they're going, at least when they're walking they're doing something. Its been 5 hours since they left the dig site, and half that time has been spent standing still. As annoying as these wasteful "rests" have been, its still not what's truly pissing him off, at least not at the moment. No, right this moment, the thing, the person he's ready to shoot between the eyes is Hodgins. Crazy ass Jack Hodgins and his fucking bugs.
"Oh, wow," the scientist breathes, his blue eyes wide and shining bright with excitement. He's on all fours, face inches from an exposed tree root, staring at a millipede with a look very dismayingly close to lust. "Booth, do we have any empty jars?"
"For the fifth time, no," Booth replies, teeth clenched. "We have no fucking jars for you to take home any ugly ass worms. If you ask me again, I swear I will grab a branch and squish every spider, insect or beetle I see!"
Jack stands, mouth open in shock. "Violence towards insects is never the answer, dude."
"Damn squint," Booth sighs, turning away. He watches Thin Man be approached by one of his men emerging from deeper in the jungle. They glance over at him, Thin Man saying something that the other man obviously doesn't agree with as he is now shaking his head and gesturing widely.
"This doesn't look good," Jack says quietly from his left.
Booth agrees. "Try not to look concerned. If anything goes down, run back towards the dig site, got it?"
"What about- "
But Booth abruptly cuts him off with a jab of his elbow. Thin Man is apparently tired of arguing, issuing a curt order in Spanish and taking the automatic rifle from his now silent subordinate. He strides quickly towards Booth and Jack, looking both agitated and grim. Booth subtly shifts his feet; his muscles bracing to attack or defend. Thin Man notices, slowing to a cautious halt the same as he would if he were to come across a wild panther; looking into his dark eyes, Thin Man feels like prey confronted by a calculating predator. Though he had heard the mutterings in the American, he hadn't seen Booth's explosion with Stires; he dismissed it before but now he's reconsidering. Slowly, not wanting to startle the man he is starting to suspect is as dangerous as Coralilo himself, Thin Man holds up the confiscated automatic rifle, ensuring his finger is far from the trigger.
"You know how to use this." Its not a question, but Booth nods anyway. Thin Man holds it out, butt first. Booth hesitates.
"Where are we going?"
"The second site is gone, my man checked. Nothing," Thin Man explains, his tone the most respectful its been since Booth met him the day before. "The guns we heard, I think were from an old army outpost. We go there, look for your woman."
Booth finally takes the weapon, checking the clip with practiced ease before sliding the strap over his shoulder. He stores the extra clips Thin Man hands him into one of his pockets. "How long?"
"We must be quiet, so two hours walking," Thin Man turns, jerking his head to indicate they follow.
Grateful he no longer feels exposed and helpless with his new weapon, he still waits for the others to start moving, ensuring he and Hodgins are in the back. Gun or no gun, he's not having anyone at his back unless he trusts them. Thinking of this, he turns to speak to Hodgins, to start informing him how to use the gun if it becomes necessary. But the scientist's face derails that train of thought.
"What the hell are you grinning about?"
"Dude, you have a gun again," Hodgins replies as if it should be obvious. Seeing Booth's bewildered expression, he assumes it isn't. "I may not be safe, but I'm a hell of a lot closer to it than I was five minutes ago. Thanks, man."
Booth shakes his head, striding farther ahead, though he can't hold back a small smile at the ego boost.
"Damn squint."
…
It's a gentle hand against her forehead that wakes Brennan again. There is no confusion this time, as soon as her eyes open she knows where she is. She raises a hand to her mouth, surprised to find the remnants of her sickness still on her skin; she must not have been unconscious long. A damp cloth is pressed into her empty hand.
"Thank you," she croaks to Catalina, her throat raw.
The girl just nods, her wide eyes flickering between Brennan cleaning her face to her pelvis. She makes a small sound of realization, and turns sharply to Coralilo, her tone firm as she speaks to him. Brennan watches their exchange, confused not only that the girl has the spine to speak that way to her leader but also that he seems to be allowing it. Its only when identical looks of frustration crosses both their faces that Brennan understands. She really should have noticed before.
Brusquely Coralilo moves out of the tent, speaking over his shoulder. "Eat and rest. We'll talk later."
Because she is watching, Brennan catches the eye roll before Catalina schools her features back into the stoic expression she wore before. Mumbling under her breath, she retrieves a small bed tray from under the cot, placing it over Brennan's lap. She reaches for the bowl, but hesitates, raising a questing brow to Brennan.
"Yes. Please," she assures, her unruly stomach now rumbling in hunger.
Famished, she barely waits for the bowl to be set down before she's scooping up a healthy spoonful of beans and meat. For the next five minutes everything is quiet, Brennan not wasting energy to even make noises of appreciation. When her bowl is half empty, she finally comes back to herself, looking up at Catalina. Embarrassed at the amusement she encounters, she tries to gather her dignity back, wiping at her mouth.
"Good?" Catalina asks drolly.
"Yes. Thank you." Swallowing a more reasonable bite, she examines the girl. Feeling more herself, she's able to see all the family indicators she missed before, the most striking being the eyes. "Why did your father leave?"
Brennan knows she understood, the surprise was clear on her face. But Catalina covers it quickly, tilting her head as if confused. Brennan doesn't know if she's trying to pretend that she doesn't understand English or if she's trying to hide her relation to Coralilo. Maybe both. Either way, Brennan decides to spend the rest of her meal trying to formulate the correct approach to find out. She tears a piece of tortilla from the previously ignored plate to gather more food, watching curiously as Catalina rummages in the medicine cabinet. She grabs two small bottles, sitting at Brennan's feet when she returns.
"I am not a midwife. There are none here," she says quietly.
Even with her suspicions, Brennan is still taken aback at how clear Catalina's English is. Her dark eyes betraying an understanding she too young to have, Catalina gently sets a small white box next to Brennan's bowl.
"These will free you, if it is not wanted. It will hurt, but…it will be better."
For a moment Catalina looks away, her eyes glazed and her mouth pinched in anger. Brennan starts to speak but the girl brings herself back into the moment. This time she sets a small white bottle next to the box. Unlike the box the bottle is marked, though it's in Spanish Brennan recognizes the colorful label: they are multivitamins. Without hesitation she takes the bottle, pouring out one of the giant pink pills into her hand. She pauses, looking up at Catalina.
"I love the baby's father," she gives as explanation, smiling gratefully.
Catalina nods, rising to replace the box into the cabinet. For the first time Brennan sees what could be nerves settle over the girl. She stares at the girl's back, puzzled. So caught up in wading through her thoughts, she almost misses the soft words spoken into the depths of the medicine cabinet.
"Is Coralilo the father?"
"NO!" Brennan almost yells, her face scrunched in disgust. "Why would you assume that?"
Now looking flustered and a bit offended, Catalina crosses her arms and stalks to Brennan's side.
"We do not take in outsiders. But here you are. My fa-Coralilo was firm in his orders for your care. He asked me to allow him to speak alone with you." Frowning petulantly, Catalina finally resembles the teenager she is. "He has never done that. We have no secrets."
"I've never met your father before today," Brennan speaks more calmly. She frowns at her lap, though she still catches the stiffening of the girl's spine. "But he seems to know my fiancée somehow. Booth- "
"The American solider?"
Brennan stares at her, brows furrowed. Catalina's whole face had shifted, brightening with surprise and…affection? Brennan isn't sure, but whatever it is has triggered twinges of jealously and possessiveness inside her chest. Both are ridiculous she knows, not only does she accept Booth's love and loyalty as fact but Catalina would have been an actual child when she could have possibly known Booth. Possibly her long separation from him has made her more sensitive to other women's reaction to him, because Brennan finds she is unable to shake away the feelings, placing her hand over the child inside her. Her thoughts must be visible on her face because Catalina giggles, shaking her head.
"We met when I was a child. Just 12 years old," she explains, her smiling fading. "He saved my life and what was left of my virtue. He helped my father avenge my destroyed innocence. I will never forget him."
Now Brennan understands Coralilo's earlier comment about owing Booth a favor. She is still burning with curiosity to know exactly his part in saving Catalina but will wait until she is able to ask him directly. But for now, stomach full and rested, she is ready to concentrate on getting home, to feel Booth's arms around her. Decisively, she pushes the tray of food away, tucking the vitamins into her pocket.
"Thank you for the food and vitamins. Can you please tell your father I will try to help him," Brennan notices the tension fall over Catalina again at the word 'father'. "I mean, Coralilo. Tell Coralilo I'll do my best."
Catalina relaxes, nodding. Brennan is desperate to ask why their connection is a secret, but knows better than to ask. Possibly Booth will have an answer for her, she'll have to remember to ask him. For now, Brennan shifts her focus to the task ahead of her, stopping Catalina before she can exit the tent.
"Tell him I need any available information. Pictures, medical history, circumstances. Everything."
…
"After that, its just point and fire," Booth holds up the rifle, demonstrating. "Got it?"
Jack nods, swiping sweat away from his brow. "Not that I don't appreciate the quick Guns for Dummies lesson, but I have to tell you: you're making me a little paranoid, dude."
"No, I'm making you prepared," Booth corrects him, slowing their pace and lowering his voice. He looks intently at his friend to make sure he understands how serious their situation is.
From the front of the small group comes a whistle. Hodgins' eyes go wide as Booth grabs his shoulder and roughly pulls him down until they are both on one knee. They look up to see Thin Man crouching, waving them over. Firming his grip on his weapon Booth shifts to move, looking over at Jack, whose face is determined despite having gone pale.
"Can you stay back here, keep an eye out, ok?" He waits for Hodgins nod, slapping his shoulder bracingly, then moves up to Thin Man.
He peers through a small window between the leaves and trees, spying a small huddle of huts and a tiny decrepit brown building. Booth's hands tighten on the gun, his heart beating double time. There are bodies scattered around the buildings. His stomach churns knowing one of those bodies could be Bones. He grits his teeth painfully together to block off the fear, forcing himself to think emotionlessly.
"Any movement?"
"No," Thin Man whispers, like Booth, continuing his scan of the area. "No guns with the dead."
Booth nods, having seen this himself. Someone, probably the winners of the small battle, was resourceful, scavenging what they could. As they watch, a large white bird swoops down, its yellow beak pecking at the bloody face of one of the bodies, apparently trying to gain access to the corpse's eye. Thin Man looks at Booth out of the corner of his eyes, curious how he will react. Booth's expression hasn't changed, outwardly unfazed by the morbid sight.
"I'll take point on the main building," Booth's voice is all authority, leaving no room for even a whisper of disagreement. "You follow me. Your big guy takes the two huts on the left, the other takes the right. Hodgins will stay in the trees, as lookout."
Thin Man raises his brows but doesn't argue, instead giving his men their instructions in whispered Spanish. Booth looks back at Hodgins, assuring himself the man is steady. Receiving nods all around he doesn't waste any more time. Staying low, gun in position and finger ready on the trigger, he moves out into the clearing.
From the shadows Hodgins watches, awed at how silent Booth moves despite his size. The agent is so often boisterous, always moving or speaking. But the man he's watching now is fierce, moving with precision, every muscle taut, ready to strike. This is Booth the soldier, and what a fearsome sight he is. As Booth approaches the building's door, the muzzle of his weapon clearing possible attack positions with controlled swiftness, there is no doubt in Hodgins' mind that his friend is deadly.
Feeling his breath trying to hitch as he approaches the door, Booth holds it for a count of ten. There has been no movement other than the fleeing white bird, but he stays alert. Every body he has passed has been male, or too big to be his Bones. However, that doesn't mean he won't find her here. Dread threatens to drown him as he approaches the building. Bones is down there, he thinks to himself, the thought fighting to override his steadiness. He clears the doorway, looking down a short hallway in front of him and a steep set of stairs to his left, both dimly lit by a series of yellow lightbulbs.
For a moment he hesitates. What is he going to find down those horrific stairs? Is she bound, unconscious and pale? Will he find her broken and bleeding, alive but in terrible pain? What if she's been tortured or raped? What if he has to live his worst nightmare, having to see her lifeless body and confront that he failed her? What will he do if finds nothing at all?
All of these rushes through him in a lightning flash, not long enough for Thin Man to notice as he moves to join Booth in the entryway. Swallowing down the metallic taste of fear, Booth signals Thin Man to search the hallway while he takes the stairs. There is no sound other than his quiet footfalls, the beating of his heart echoing in his ears. He pauses at the base of the stairs, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dimmer light. There appears to be four rooms, two on each side and each side has one door open, just at his feet is the dead body of a man, eyes staring sightless at the ceiling. Booth inches into a crouch, straining to hear any possible movement. The seconds tick away, Booth staying steady. After what feels like hours he rises, and moves to the first closed door on his right.
The hinges squeak loudly, revealing an empty dark room. Booth clears the tiny space and springs back, weapon poised for a possible attack from the other rooms. He waits patiently, but there is no change anywhere and starts moving again. He receives the same results two more times until he comes to the last closed door. He reaches out for the handle when he hears steps coming down the stairs. He spins, raises his gun and waits.
Ok. I'm sorry, i broke another promise. I got busy. But my job is currently on hiatus, so i'll be working on this again. I do have up to chapter 29 written. so, the question is: do i post what i have right now, wait until i finish the story or start spreading them out while i write the rest? let me know your thoughts.
thank you again to everyone still reading this, you are wonderful