Disclaimer: I only own the characters not normally seen on the show…
Previously: Hawthorne has been taken into custody for the murders; however, even though she was the one who put him there, the arrest is leaving Brennan unconvinced. So, what's a good doctor to do? Send Angela to the hospital to rouse Zack, and take a trip to the morgue with Hodgins, all while Booth is left completely confused with Hawthorne…
(--)
"The wicked are always surprised to find that the good can be clever."
-Luc de Clapiers de Vauvenargues
(--)
Fifteen minutes later had Booth escorting a handcuffed Hawthorne through the hallways of the FBI building, Orville and Wilbur trailing behind him. They approached the interrogation room and the Hawaiian agents let them in. Booth sat Hawthorne down in the farther chair and took his place across the table.
"You know how this works, Officer Hawthorne," Booth began.
"Yes, I've been on the other side of the table quite a few times," Hawthorne agreed.
"So how does it usually turn out?" Booth asked nonchalantly.
"Just fine…if you're on the other side of the table," Hawthorne answered sharply.
"We both know how you did it, so let's start with the why?" Booth leaned back in the metal chair, one arm resting on the table, his coin flipping through his fingers.
"How about not," Hawthorne replied.
"Why'd you kill 'em, Richie?"
"I didn't."
"Evidence says you did."
"Well, evidence is wrong."
"Why are you lying to me?"
"I'm not; I didn't kill those girls, Agent Booth. And while you're busy questioning me, the real killer is out there running free. Not to mention Dr. Long is still absconding from the authorities."
"We'll deal with Dr. Long, that's not your business anymore," Booth answered. He glanced over his shoulder at the other agents, "Agent Orville, will you please retrieve the box of photographs that Dr. Brennan received this morning?"
"Of course," Orville smiled cheekily, turning on his heel and walking through the door.
"You really should see these," Booth commented, glancing at Hawthorne. Orville returned with the pictures in plastic evidence bags. He handed them to Booth, "question: why are stalker pictures always in black and white? You ever notice that? Is cheaper? You know, since you're making about a hundred copies, is black and white less expensive?"
"Is there a point to your incessant rambling?" Hawthorne asked coldly. Booth's questioning look turned into a half-grin. He set out the pictures on the table in front of Hawthorne and then leaned back.
"Go ahead," he gestured to the photos with his hand. Hawthorne leaned forward a little to inspect the pictures. After a moment, he sat back in the chair and looked up at Booth.
"They're very good. You should go into modeling or something," Hawthorne said sarcastically. Booth's smile didn't falter.
"It's the location. It really does something to people; never had one like it. You recognize it?" Hawthorne remained silent, "You should…it's your place." He leaned forward, his voice suddenly serious, "Now you wanna tell me how someone found that Dr. Brennan and Ms Montenegro were staying at your house?"
"Maybe they overheard?" Hawthorne offered calmly.
"Maybe…or maybe you told them."
"Now, why would I want to do something like that?"
"Why don't you tell me?" Booth leaned back again.
"I wish I could," Hawthorne answered.
"You have the opportunity. I'm all ears."
"I'm sure you are, but I think now is the time when I say: I want a lawyer," Hawthorne smiled smartly. Booth shook his head, his grin back.
"Have it your way," Booth stood up and ushered the other two agents from the room. They congregated outside the doorway in small circle, watching Hawthorne through the two-way glass.
"You think he's lying?" Wilbur asked.
"Of course he does," Orville answered, "he wouldn't have brought him in if he didn't think Hawthorne was guilty, right Booth?" He slapped Booth's shoulder. The agent glanced at his arm then looked up at Orville and Wilbur.
"Don't touch me again," Booth warned, "Call me when his lawyer gets here," Booth started off down the hall.
"Where're you going?" Wilbur yelled.
"I have to make a call," Booth replied over his shoulder as he disappeared around the corner. Wilbur looked back into the interrogation room.
"What's gonna happen to him?" Wilbur asked indicating the officer.
"Hopefully, they'll give him the chair," Orville replied.
"I wonder if they have any idea…"
"Of course they do," Orville cut him off, "they believe that Hawthorne's the killer and Long's the accomplice. I give it less than twenty-four hours before they're all out of here, and this case is behind us."
"You seem so sure."
"I am sure. Relax, Wilbur, this whole thing is gonna be over soon enough," Orville patted his arm and walked into the hall, leaving Wilbur to stare at Hawthorne sitting quietly in the metal chair. He watched the man, lower his head in despair, and suddenly Wilbur's stomach hurt.
(--)
Booth finally made it out to the sunny parking lot. He breathed a sigh of relief. Interrogating Hawthorne had not been easy. It had been difficult to keep his composure and not reach across the table and strangle the man who had put Bones and Angela into so much danger. All this time he'd trusted this man with the woman that he loved…it was just like Kenton…but this time Booth had found him before anything happened to Brennan.
He flipped open his cell phone a pressed '1', the speed dial that would connect him to Brennan's phone. He held the mobile up to his ear and waited patiently as it rang once…twice…thrice…damn it where the hell is she?...four times…five…and then her voicemail picked up.
"This is Dr. Brennan. Please leave your name and number. I'll get back to you." The message continued with a woman's voice instructing him to wait until the tone before recording his message, all informing him that personal options could be reached by pressing the number four. Finally the phone beeped.
"Bones! It's me! Where the hell are you? I'm at the FBI building and you're not. Hawthorne just lawyer-ed up. If you've got something to grill him you better get your cute little ass down here, 'because he's not talking!" Booth snapped the phone shut. He returned it to his pocket. Rubbing his hands over his tired eyes, he let out a frustrated sigh.
A rushing sound met his ears. He looked up to see about twelve agents running from the building and getting into numerous vehicles. He grabbed one of them by the arm, frightening the poor man.
"What's going on here?" Booth questioned.
"They think they found Dr. Long," the man answered.
"Where?" Booth asked forcefully.
(--)
"Dr. Brennan," Hodgins rushed into the morgue's lab, slightly out of breath.
Brennan looked up from the file she was decoding. The handwriting was appalling. You'd think they wrote like doctors or something? She noted Hodgins' breathlessness and messed up attire.
"What is it Hodgins?" she inquired.
"Angela just called. She said Zack said that Dr. Morgan made copies of their findings but they never ran an official id with the FBI," Hodgins explained.
"Damn it," Brennan mentally chided herself for not doing this sooner.
"We could go there now," Hodgins offered.
"Yeah," Brennan nodded after a moment, "yeah, call a cab." She grabbed the files and her coat, running from the room, not noticing her phone vibrating on the table.
(--)
When they reached the FBI building, they were met with a dozen vehicles zooming out of the parking lot. Brennan and Hodgins tried to get a better view. Brennan reached into her pocket, digging for her cell phone. It was then that she realized she'd left it at the morgue.
"Damn."
"What?" Hodgins asked glancing at her.
"I don't have my phone. Do you have Booth's number?"
Hodgins stared at her, "Do I look like I have Booth's number?"
Brennan rolled her eyes. She reached forward and tapped the taxi driver's shoulder, "Follow those cars," she instructed.
As she sat back she noted Hodgins was watching her, a frown on his face, "If something's happening," she answered the unasked question, "then Booth will be there."
"But we still can't prove who the skin samples belong to," Hodgins stated.
"Give me your phone," Brennan held out her hand. Hodgins placed his cell phone there. Brennan flipped it open, found Angela's name in the contacts and dialed, "Ange, it's me. I need another favor. Are you still at the hospital? Okay, good. Get into the hospital's records and try to match the skin samples through there. Call me back on Hodgins' phone when you get the id." She hung up.
"So Angela's getting the id, what're we doing then?"
"We're getting the bad guy," Brennan answered.
(--)
Warehouses. Why did they always end up in warehouses? Why couldn't it be cute little parks or something less clichéd? Booth thought angrily as he got out of the car, At least these are on the dock…There were several black and whites already there with their lights flashing. He knows we're here.
Booth walked over to the small group, "who's in charge here?"
"I'm the one that saw him," said an aging police officer, stepping forward.
"Special Agent Booth," Booth said shaking his hand.
"Lt. Peter Jacobs," the man replied.
"Lt. Jacobs, have you or any of your men tried to go in?" Booth asked.
"No, but they've been watching all the exits."
"Good," he turned to Orville and Wilbur, "okay, boys, time to see what you two are worth. We need a perimeter set up here people!"
The agents scurried around, getting into position. Booth and Lt. Jacobs were both handed Kevlar vests. Booth dug into his pocket for his cell phone again. He tried Bones but she still hadn't picked up. He didn't bother leaving another message.
Instead he grabbed a two-way radio and started barking orders at the FBI agents on site. He ordered snipers to the roofs of the surrounding buildings. He called for a boat off the dock, equipped with divers if the need be. This is gonna be a long day…no pun intended.
(--)
The taxi carrying Brennan and Hodgins pulled up on the outskirts. Hodgins made a mental note that it looked like an orgy of the law enforcement officers. A young officer in a blue uniform stopped them from proceeding into the thick of the FBI agent orgy. Brennan gave him a death glare and instructed him that she was a forensic anthropologist and she worked with the Agent Booth.
Hodgins thought Brennan was going to drop him when the man said he didn't know who Agent Booth was and if they didn't have badges they couldn't get in. Turning away from the infuriating officer, Brennan let out a frustrated sigh. Hodgins reminded himself to stay at least five feet behind her.
"Who the hell does he think he is anyway?" Brennan asked.
"He's just doing his job, Bren. Without badges we could be anybody. They don't want press in there right now," Hodgins said coolly.
"You're supposed to be on my side, Jack, we're hating the government right now. Keeping people from their rights, and all that."
"They don't want hostages."
Brennan gave him a look, "well, he's not going to keep me out." She turned on her heel and walked purposefully toward the warehouses where everyone had congregated. The young officer walked up to her again but instead of stopping Brennan took his arm and neatly flipped him onto his back.
Instantly, several other officers surrounded them, their guns raised. Brennan finally stopped as they encircled her and Jack. She raised her arms as did her fellow scientist. The ruckus drew the attention of the lead agents, one in particular, who came over smiling.
"It's okay, guys, they're with me," Booth said, stepping into the circle. Brennan took his arm and dragged on him over to the officer still lying on his back.
"This is Agent Booth. Next time, learn names," Brennan said.
"What was that about?" Booth asked as they walked back to the front of the line.
"Nothing. Just insubordinate officers," Brennan waved it off.
"Whatever. I tried to call you."
"I left my phone at the morgue. And someone," she glared at Jack, "didn't have your number so I couldn't call."
"Where's Ange?"
"She's at the hospital with Zack. They're doing some ids for me."
"Now!" Booth looked at her skeptically.
"Relax, I've got everything taken care of," Brennan answered giving him a smile, "Trust me."
"You said that before, but it's very difficult I'm you won't tell me what's going on. You're talking about ids and stuff and you won't give me a straight answer when I ask you what you're up to."
"I know, and I said, you'll just have to trust me."
"Agent Booth," Lt. Jacobs walked up to them, "my men say that Long looks like he's getting nervous in there."
"I'm just afraid if he gets nervous, he'll get trigger happy."
"What do you want me to do?" Jacobs asked.
"Get a team together. We'll go in on my order," the older officer nodded and called to his people, Booth turned to Brennan and Hodgins, "you two should be wearing vests."
He motioned for a young officer to get him two Kevlar vests. The man handed them to Brennan and Hodgins. Booth watched skeptically as they suited themselves. Brennan caught his gaze and smiled.
"What?"
"I don't like you being here," he said cautiously.
"Too bad," she answered.
"Bones, I--."
"Booth, don't."
"Just promise you'll stay back," Booth said. Brennan gave him a look but Hodgins was nodding fervently.
"Agent Booth, my men are ready," Lt. Jacobs said.
"Okay, good. Jacobs, I want you to stay here, control things from the outside. Wright Brothers!" Orville and Wilbur stepped forward, "you two are gonna be by the door, I want you ready to apprehend Long when we get out. I'll lead the team inside--."
"What!" Brenna interrupted, "If you're going, I'm going."
"What? No, Bones, you're going to stay here, and keep your promise to me."
"Who's gonna stop me?" Brennan asked defiantly.
"Jesus, Bones, do you always have to make things so difficult! Fine, if you come, you stay behind me, got it?" Brennan rolled her eyes and nodded, "Jacobs, give her your gun!" Brennan stared at him in surprise, Booth winked at her, "Don't get used to it."
He pulled his weapon from the holster and signaled to the team that it was time to go. He started toward the warehouse, sensing Brennan keeping her promise and staying behind him. He thanked God for small miracles.
Once they had infiltrated the threshold, Booth signaled that they split into smaller groups. He, Brennan and two other agents moved upstairs quietly, another group took the ground floor, while a third took the basement.
They reached the top of the stairs after a moment. Booth motioned to Brennan to go to the right, sending the other two agents to left. They crept through large containers. The shipping material created a maze throughout the floor of the building, making a great place to hide but nearly impossible for the agents.
There was a creak on the floor and Booth stopped them. He held a finger to his lips and used his hand to tell Brennan to stay put. She nodded. He turned around the corner, his gun poised, disappearing from her view. There was a loud crack and a thud.
"Booth?" Brennan asked quietly. She leaned out from the corner and saw Booth lying flat on his face in the dust. She gasped and hurried forward. As soon as she stepped out, she mentally kicked herself, feeling the blow of the fireextinguisher against the back of her head.
(--)
TBC in Chapter 16: "Civil Duties…"
A/N: Okay, this is the second to last chapter. That's right people: chaptersixteen is the final chapter. Don't scream, everything will be answered in the next chapter. Afterwards I plan to include a pretty decent sized Author's Note explaining the story a little, but that's another time, another chapter. Anyway, keep reviewing, I heart them! Did I mention I love cliff hangers? Hehe!