The title of this new chapter says it all...
Lots and lots of angst, Booth and Brennan 'moments' (or thoughts) all around, of course!
We hope that those who are reading this but haven't yet reviewed will because we need to know if we're getting this right. Even grading this chapter would make us happy. But hey, we're not going to beg. We just want to bring you pleasure with B&B fluff and angst! So enjoy and R&R!
Chapter five: Let the Games Begin
Brennan squatted down beside the body and for a few minutes did nothing but observe. Booth had left her to herself in the confined space. He knew she preferred it that way. In the meantime he would usually question the witnesses, talk to the police, take a look around. This time there wasn't much Booth could do. The mother had taken the boys to her room. There wouldn't be much they could tell him anyway.
"Booth!" Brennan called from inside the crammed space.
"What have you got?" he asked her. She stretched out her arm and handed him a small black box.
"Here. I found this on the body. It was in his pocket," she said as she frowned slightly the way she always did when something didn't make sense to her yet.
Booth studied it for a moment.
"What is it?" he asked her as he threw the small black box up and grabbed it out of the air. She sat in the dimly lit room which was more the size of a hall closet and seemed to feel perfectly at ease with her surroundings. Brennan looked up at him and her blue eyes reflected the light coming from behind Booth, making her eyes shine like brilliant diamonds.
"I don't know," she answered. "I'll have to open it up in my room. I can't do much here, anyway."
"Did you get anything off of him? Other than this interesting magic box?"
"Cause of death is definitely excessive blood loss but he didn't bleed out here. There's a bullet in his chest. The black box's from his pocket. He had his fingers clasped around it. Couldn't find an ID. No further obvious injuries."
"You think he's the guy who checked in under your name?"
"I have no way of knowing other than that he matches the description the desk lady gave us."
Booth nodded that he understood. Personally, he found the matching description of an eye-witness convincing enough. Brennan, on the other hand, was a specialist in ID-ing bones. Or remains, as she referred to them. She needed scientific proof for everything.
"We have to get the body out of here. It's going to decompose and the hotel guests won't be happy with the smell," Brennan stated as she stood up and looked down on the remains.
"All right. I'll go ask the cook if he has a spare freezer somewhere," Booth joked and threw the black box at her.
Brennan caught it with one hand and smiled at him as he turned around and walked away. She sighed with content and turned her back to the door to take another look at the body. Her eyes went from his hair to his shoes and noticed every little detail. Brennan tilted her head to one side and narrowed her eyes as her pure, rational mind took over.
What could she tell from his position? What did the depth of the bullet-wound tell her? His clothes. Formal or informal? Why was he here? Physique. Trained or neglected?
Suddenly a shiver ran down her spine and merely a moment later a gloved hand came from behind her and pressed her nose and mouth shut. Brennan's eyes turned big with fear as she felt a strange body pressing against her back. The next thing she felt was the cold metal from the barrel of a gun pressed hard against her temple. She winced only slightly but just enough to make him increase the pressure.
"One word, one move... and you're dead," a low voice whispered in her ear. Brennan's chest was heaving up and down from the adrenaline rush but she couldn't breathe. She should have fought back right away. She should have kicked the gun out of his hand before he even had the chance to rise it. Hell, she should have punched him in the face.
"Are we understood?" the voice inquired. Brennan tried to nod and the man slowly removed his hand from her face. Finally, she got the oxygen her lungs screamed for.
"Walk with me," the man told her as he grabbed her upper arm and pushed her into the hall.
"Bones?" Booth whistled a song as he crossed the hall, heading for the room where he'd left Brennan ten minutes ago.
"Hey, Bones-" he started to say when he reached the open door. Where was she? Booth glanced around and noticed her flashlight lying on the floor. He picked it up and switched it on. The body was still there. Brennan never left remains unguarded. She was always making sure that no one had a chance to compromise the evidence. This is why a strange feeling began to form in the pit of Booth's stomach. He frowned as he thought and then turned around. Something didn't feel right. He had to find her.
The last time Brennan had gone missing she had been kidnapped and almost murdered. Booth was in the hospital because he'd gotten blown up by a bomb in Brennan's refrigerator but Hodgins had helped him get out and to the site where Brennan was probably being kept hostage.
Booth well-remembered his feelings of both terror and ecstasy when he'd found Brennan's keys on the floor. He knew she was still in the building. He knew she could be dead. So, he opened the door and his heart had skipped a beat as he saw the bastard standing next to a helpless Brennan, ready to give her the fatal blow to the head. On impulse and pure rage he'd shot him. He would never forget the look on Brennan's face as her head had shot up and her eyes begged for someone to help her. Booth had hurried over to her and the fact that she was hung up from her wrists and gagged made his stomach turn. She must have been not only scared to death but also in a lot of pain.
The moment he'd finally lifted her trembling body to get the rope that tied her wrists together from the hook she'd crashed down in his arms, sobbing against his shoulder.
"It's okay," he'd said, "I'm right here. It's all over."
Everything had turned back to normal afterwards, and the bruises and ligature marks on Brennan's wrists had faded away. But Booth's urge to protect her had grown stronger.
He could not stand that he didn't know where Brennan was. And so a strange feeling had formed in the pit of Booth's stomach.
Brennan stumbled forward as her attacker pushed her into a long-forgotten storage room. She noticed there was one light bulb dangling above a chair that seemed to be made of iron. The man pressed the gun against her spine and forced her on the chair. Then he roughly grabbed her wrists and tied them behind her back and to the chair. Next he took a few steps away from Brennan and fumbled in the dark. He got out duct tape and approached his victim.
Even though being tied up terrified her, Brennan's rational mind was still working on full speed. As long as she didn't panic and followed up his orders she had time to think. Now that her hands were tied behind her back, what could she use as a weapon? At any rate, her head, and if she got lucky her legs alone would do.
The man did as Brennan hoped and squatted down in front of her. He began to peel the duct tape off its role. Brennan reacted quickly as he attempted to cut the tape with his teeth. She threw all her power in a kick to his head and chest.
"God damnit!" the man shrieked and felt his face. He looked at his hand and watched the blood drip off it.
"You split my fucking eyebrow, you bitch!" he yelled and stumbled to his feet. In the meantime, Brennan was frantically trying to free her hands from the rope. This might be her only chance to escape, she realized.
"This should keep you down for a moment," the man growled as he came towards her and punched her in the stomach. Brennan doubled up and tears sprang to her eyes as she tried hard not to scream. After all, the gun was still under his belt and he would shoot her if she gave him a cause.
It felt as though a large piece of concrete had been forcefully rammed into her, bruising ribs and muscle tissue. The pain made it impossible to breathe for a couple of seconds in which her attacker tightly taped her ankles to the legs of the chair. When he was done he stepped back to look at his work and got a cell phone from his pocket. He pressed a few buttons and held it to his ear, not averting his eyes from his victim.
"Master Ortez, it's Slectovencto. I have doctor Brennan here. I tied her to a chair and there's nothing within her reach. I followed all of your orders but the bitch found an opportunity to kick me in the face."
"..."
"Damn right she got me, I'm bleeding from the fucking eyebrow."
"..."
"Of course I got her back. Ain't no woman kicking me without some kind of retribution."
"..."
Slectovencto grinned maliciously.
"Yes, master, the agent will be taken care of soon. No problemo. Yes, I will take the doctor to you in one piece," Slectovencto finished his call and put the cell phone back in his pocket.
There was nothing left for Brennan to defend herself with. All she could hope now was for Booth to find her clue and remember the last time they'd found themselves in this kind of situation...
No, this couldn't be happening. Booth had spent the last thirty minutes looking for Brennan, asking people if they knew where she was, if they'd seen her. Of course nobody had. Nobody ever saw anything happen that was against the law.
He had to find her. Dear God, let me find her, Booth prayed. He finally went back to where the body was and decided to walk all the possible routes again. Before he resumed his search, he peeked into the tiny space, still hoping that she would be there processing the evidence. Hoping to see her pretty face look up at him and smile. Booth sighed in disappointment as all was still dark and quiet before him.
There were two ways at the end of the hall. Booth decided to go left. This part of the hotel was quiet. There were mainly packed storage rooms and dressing rooms for the employees. Behind one of the doors was a stairwell that led to the cellar. Booth had stuck his head inside before to take a quick look but had found nothing but bottles of wine and some chests.
Now, Booth decided to take a closer look. He descended the stairs and passed the light of Brennan's flashlight over the objects. Suddenly he saw something he hand't noticed before. Hidden in a dark corner was... a door! Booth quickly walked over to it and tried to push it open. Unfortunately, it was locked.
"God damnit!" he shouted as he jammed his fist into the door. She could be right there on the other side...
All right. This was his plan: he would go back to the lobby and ask the desk lady for the key, then he would return and- Wait a minute.
Booth squatted down as a small object on the floor caught his attention.
"I'll be damned," he whispered. It was the small black box that Brennan had found on the body that night.
She must have remembered the clue she left me when she had been kidnapped before, Booth thought. He had known where she was because Brennan had dropped her keys on the floor. Now she'd left him a piece of evidence. Booth threw it up and grabbed it out of the air. He smiled. She was still here.
"Bones, you smartass," he said out loud. He could almost hear Brennan's comment, "I'm smart but it has nothing to do with my ass."
"Don't worry. No matter where you are, Bones, ...I will find you again."
Now that her chances of freeing herself had been minimized, Brennan thought about what it was that this Slectovencto wanted from her. Of course she had listened to his conversation on the phone. She could draw the conclusion that he worked for Ortez and was supposed to take her to him alive. That meant that he couldn't shoot her. Still, she had to be careful. Ortez had said nothing about beating her or torturing her otherwise.
Ortez probably wanted to take revenge for the time she'd taken him down in the hall of the Federal building and stepped over him to get into the elevator. Anthropologically speaking, this wasn't even irrational. He was the alpha-male and his position got threatened by a female. He would want to regain respect.
In a way, Brennan regretted what had happened. She did now, at least. Though at the time she just hadn't felt afraid of him. She had provoked him by telling him that to his face and he grabbed her arm. Booth had come looking for her and watched Ortez touch her. "I wouldn't-," he'd started to say but by then she was halfway getting Ortez on the floor.
Booth...
Wait, Slectovencto mentioned 'the agent'. That must be Booth. How was he involved in all this? Brennan hoped he wouldn't get hurt. He got hurt one time because of her and that was enough. He'd been at her apartment to make sure she was safe and when he opened the refrigerator to get a drink, the thing had blown up right in his face. Or more specifically sideways in his face. Booth had been lucky to simultaneously open the refrigerator and reach for a glass on his right. She wouldn't know what she'd have done if Booth had died. It was just a lucky coincidence that he hadn't.
Booth...
The pain in her stomach and ribs had started to fade. Brennan closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Ouch. That hurt.
"Hope you learned from that," Slectovencto said and smirked at her.
"What are we still doing here?" Brennan dared to ask.
"I'm not telling you..."
Brennan straightened her back a little. This man could be a cold psycopath for all she knew and psycopaths take pleasure in seeing other people afraid. It was not as most people thought. They would never sympathize with their victims. To attack them back was all you could try. But then you had to know how to get to them and Brennan did not possess such knowledge about this man.
"My partner will find me," she said in a cold voice.
"Exactly," Slectovencto said and winked at her. "In fact, if he doesn't show up soon we'll go find him."
Brennan frowned.
"Why would you want Booth, as well?"
"Orders, sweetheart, just doing my job here." He smirked again.
"So, you just... follow up orders. You don't even know what you're doing exactly," Brennan concluded. "You must be at the bottom of the hierarchy then."
This got to Slectovencto.
"You listen to me, you crazy nut-job doctor, if you don't shut up right this second I will-," he stopped coming towards Brennan who was trying not to show how scared she was of him and narrowed his eyes.
"Hold on. This is exactly what master Ortez warned me for. He told me you'd try to manipulate me into letting you go," he sneered. Brennan did not avert her eyes and looked angrily at him.
"Too bad for you, sweetheart. Because I'm on to you! Man, am I onto you," he smirked and then paused to think.
"Just to be sure though..." he said and fumbled in the dark again. Brennan tried to see what it was that was sitting there but Slectovencto's back blocked her vision.
When he'd found what he was looking for he walked back to where Brennan was sitting and stopped behind her. She breathed nervously and waited for what was to come. Even though it didn't hurt, the feeling of being gagged was very unpleasant. She hated it when people tried to prevent her from speaking her mind. What was also very unpleasant, was that Brennan had gotten confused.
No matter how much she wanted Booth to come and safe her, she wished now that he'd never find her for it was obvious Slectovencto had orders to hurt him, as well, although she wasn't exactly sure what he had meant by 'taking care of the agent'. And now that they couldn't be together, Brennan realized that she couldn't feel complete without him.
Booth...
Meanwhile, a cell phone rang in a deserted hotel room.
The caller was far away from the hotel and had gotten worried. No information had been passed on to him since Joy had been tracked down. Apparently something was wrong. How wrong, he could not know. But something was off and the caller decided to put his best man on the case. His son.