(The Hotdog in the Competition)

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I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooo

Jacob Brodsky's trial had been delayed by two months and Caroline Julian was ready to go to trial. "Listen Cher', this trial is going to probably last at least two weeks although I'm hoping that one will do. I know Dr. Brennan is coming close to having her baby, but she says she's going to be available to testify . . . I have a schedule of witnesses." She handed Booth a page from her folder. "I know that you're working on a case, but you'll have to make yourself available for the trial."

"Don't worry, I know the drill." Booth glanced at the schedule, folded the paper and slipped it into his jacket pocket. "We're ready for the trial. Brodsky is going to be found guilty and these delays are just his lawyer's way of putting off the inevitable."

"True, still, I want to get this one over and done with." Caroline remembered the head of Heather Taffet exploding into a bloody mist right in front of her eyes. It still made her shudder thinking about it. "Don't miss any court dates and if Dr. Brennan goes into early labor you call me. Even if it's two in the morning. You call the doctor, you get her to the hospital and you call me in that order."

Amused, Booth smiled. "Her doctor says she's fine and she still has a few weeks left . . . Now I have to go. I have an interview to do in an hour . . . I'll see you in court."

"Yes, you will." As the Agent left her office, Caroline grabbed her coffee mug and stood up. "What I need is my own coffee machine and some Community Coffee." Starting for the break room, she noticed Booth standing in the hallway in front of the elevator, talking on the phone. His facial features seemed to turn grim as he talked. Before she could interrupt him to find out what was going on, he ended his call, jammed his phone into his jacket pocket, stalked over to the stairwell and entered it just as the elevator door opened. I hope nothing's wrong.

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After he entered the D.C. Central Detention Facility, Booth hurried through the check-in process and finally stood in an interview room waiting. The phone call earlier outside Caroline's office had been unexpected and Booth was curious about why Brodsky had asked to meet him. They hadn't spoken since he'd shot Brodsky while capturing him and waiting until two days before the trail seemed an odd time to meet.

A faint smile on his lips, Brodsky entered the room under guard escort, sat down at the table and waited patiently for his cuffs to be locked on a hook on the table. Once the guard was out of the room and Booth was seated, the former assassin shook his head. "I wasn't sure you were going to come."

Booth shrugged his shoulders. "I'm here. What do you want?"

"So, it's like that is it?" A little disappointed, Brodsky shook his head. "We were comrades in arms once . . . brothers. We fought to destroy evil together and we did a damn good job."

"That was a long time ago and you chose a different path to follow than me." Growing impatient, Booth glanced at his watch. "You asked me to come and see you . . . why?"

Since Booth wasn't interested in the brotherhood he once belonged to, Brodsky knew he had to move on. "There isn't going to be a trial. I talked to my lawyer an hour ago and we're done with that. It's just delaying the inevitable and I need to move on . . . the money I made will go to a good cause. I never did what I did for me. I was merely the instrument of God's hand. You should understand that . . . we were on the same side once. I got rid of evil and so did you."

"You killed people for money." Booth stood up. "Why did you want me to come see you? To tell me that you're pleading guilty? What do you want from me?"

Calmly, patiently, Brodsky used his chin and pointed at the chair across from him. "Please sit down and I will come to the point." Once Booth was seated, the prisoner sighed. "I don't have any family left in this life. My parents are dead and so is my sister. All killed in a car accident a few years ago. I never married, so my family was my brothers and sisters in the Army . . . I wanted to say good-bye to someone I know. Everyone should be able to say good-bye to someone."

Puzzled, Booth shook his head. "Good-bye? What deal did your lawyer work out for you? Did you get life or what?"

"Oh, I got the death penalty, but since my work is done, I guess it doesn't matter. We all die sometime. Some people just get to choose how and when it's done." Brodsky chuckled. "We were friends once and I'd like you to come to my funeral when it's done. I'm going to be buried in Dallas next to my parents and sister. I don't expect much of a turnout, but I'd like it if you can come. I'd like at least one person to be at my funeral . . . sure, it's pride I suppose, but really, I'd like someone that knows me to see me off to my eternal rest."

The conversation had taken a turn that Booth hadn't expected, but Brodsky was right. No one should be buried without being noticed by someone. "I'll go to your funeral, Jake . . . I promise."

"Thank you. You and I didn't agree about a lot of things, but we were brothers in the Rangers and you were the closest thing I had to a relative. I guess that's sad in a way, but I . . . well, we all have to play the hand we're dealt. You have a fine strong son, a woman that loves you, so you hit the jackpot. Me . . . Paula was the best thing that happened to me in a long time and . . . she shouldn't have taken her life like that. What she did, she did for me and she shouldn't have paid that price . . . You should have left her alone, but I forgive you . . . Now, I've said my good-bye, don't forget to come to my funeral."

His former friend was giving off very odd vibes, but then Jacob had always marched to the beat of another drummer. "What Paula did was wrong. She told you where to find Coolidge even though he was in Witness Protection and you hunted him down and killed him. She could have resigned. She didn't have to kill herself."

"She could have done a lot of things, but she took her life because she paid back a debt of honor to me and that ruined her career because you couldn't ignore what she'd done. Paula was an honorable woman, a veteran and a purple heart winner. You know that. You didn't have to go after her . . . She took her life because it was her decision to make." Brodsky knew that Booth would never understand what he was talking about. The Agent had a core set of beliefs and there was nothing he could do to help him about that. "Good-bye Booth."

The conversation was over and Booth was ready to leave. "Good-bye Jake. I'll come back to see you if you want me to. Even if the State is going to execute you, it'll take time . . . If you want me to I can witness your execution . . . if you need someone you know there. It's up to you."

"No thank you." Jacob smiled. "Just come to my funeral."

Ooooooooooooooooooooo

Behind on reports, Booth settled behind his desk, flipped open the top folder and started to read. Barely into the second paragraph, he was interrupted by his phone. "Booth."

Jacob Brodsky is dead. He died thirty minutes ago. He attacked a prison guard and tried to strangle the man. They couldn't get his hands from around the guard's neck and the man was suffocating. They shot him to stop him. Brodsky bled to death before they could get him to the infirmary.

"Oh my God." Stunned, Booth turned his chair and stared at his medals set in a display case hanging on the wall behind his desk. "Caroline, I just talked to him an hour ago . . . He asked to see me. He told me about taking a plea."

A plea? He didn't take a plea. As far as I know we were going to trial in two days . . . Did he say who he talked to about the plea?

"He said he'd talked to his lawyer an hour before I'd seen him and that there wasn't going to be a trial. He said his work was done and that he was going to die . . . damn it. I assumed he had accepted a guilty plea from you and that the death penalty hadn't been removed from the table. He attacked that guard to force them to kill him . . . He asked me to come see him to ask me to do him a favor. He asked me to go to his funeral and he said good-bye." He felt sick. If he had known that Brodsky was planning on committing suicide by Cop he would have stopped it. "Jake was pretty religious. I never thought he'd find a way to kill himself like that . . . of course he didn't die by his own hand . . . damn it!"

Why'd he want you to go to his funeral? You were the one who arrested him. You shot him.

Staring at the medals, Booth remembered when Jacob had actually been his friend. "He doesn't have any family and he wanted to make sure someone went to his funeral . . . He was a friend a long time ago and I told him I'd go . . . He always had to do things his way."

Well, it's done. Brodsky's lawyer has been contacted and he's going to arrange to have Brodsky's body shipped to Dallas for burial. I guess you'd better call him for the details . . . Brodsky . . . Taffet . . . they can't hurt anyone else in this life. Good riddance.

The call ended, Booth turned back to face his desk. "Yeah, they can't hurt anyone else . . . But there's always someone else waiting to take their place."

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