Title: El Cientifico
Author: atrosie
Rating: M
Pairings: B/B eventually
Spoilers: Anything and everything.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bones, nor do I own the BSC. And I wouldn't want to own the Mara Muerte gang. Title of the story belongs to Coldplay; title of the chapter belongs to Jonatha Brook. And I obviously don't own Walt Whitman, or his quotes.
Summary: A staged murder in Connecticut draws the attention of Booth and Brennan.
But Mara Muerte's not finished with Brennan, and they're not afraid to show it.
A/N: I don't speak Spanish, so anything here comes from AltaVista's Babel Fish translator. Mistakes would belong to both of us, I guess. Spanish is in italics. Comments and critiques are always appreciated. Thanks to everyone who reviewed my other story!
Prologue: Genius or a Fool
"What is that you express in your eyes? It seems to me more than all the words I have read in my life."
Walt Whitman
"The threat has yielded an unexpected result, Senor."
Roberto Ortez stared at the floor, ignoring the thick smoke hanging in the air and the pounding of the nightclub music below him.
"What result is that, 'Berto?" The voice was smooth as molasses, and just as thick.
Roberto raised his head and stared at his boss, the true leader of the D.C. chapter of the Mara Muerte, a man who went by Senor and nothing else. Truly, he didn't need any other name.
"He's in love with the woman, Senor. He threatened me, told me he'd kill me, and the way he looked when he said it … he's in love with her."
"And he told you to call the hit off, si?" Senor smiled. "We'll do no such thing, of course." The smile became more cruel than amused, and Roberto shivered. "Call our man in Connecticut. This woman investigates bones, and I intend to give her some. Make sure he knows what to do, 'Berto, because we want the FBI called in – and we want her called in with them."
Roberto nodded and turned to leave, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket.
"And 'Berto – I don't want her to come to us dead. I want her tortured, and I imagine you'd like that yourself. Make sure he understands, 'Berto."
"Si, senor. Mara Muerte por siempre!"
Roberto headed for the outside stairs, scrolling through the cell phone's contacts list and thinking about the pretty scientist. She would be fun to torture, he imagined, all tied up and blindfolded, with no FBI agent to protect her.
She would scream, he would make sure of that.
