A/N: Thanks again to the lovely people who reviewed and sorry for the delay in posting. I know these chapters are shorter than those of some of my other fics, but I'm struggling to find the time to write this and so short chapters are far easier. I'll do my best to keep them coming daily over the weekend though, and thanks again for reading.

Random note: Since 'Target' was set pre-Cam, Zach still isn't a doctor yet. (Not that it's important to the story, I just wanted to keep it consistent.) Also, if the end of this one confuses anybody, go back and read the second half of chapter 10. :)

Chapter 14 - Rationale

Carlo stood still for a moment, staring in disbelief at the nervous young man standing at the door to their apartment. His finger remained on the trigger, instinctively suspicious of a trap, but he made no move either to shoot or to bring Zach inside.

Eventually he was snapped out of his thoughts as Luca reminded in a low voice, "Wire."

Spurred to action, he grabbed Zach roughly by his jacket, dragging him inside and conducting a cursory check for any wires or listening devices indicative of a trap. His cousin and brother moved closer, but remained silent as Carlo finished his inspection. Satisfied that they were not being overheard by the FBI, Carlo pushed Zach to a seat on their couch before stepping back as he announced, "He's clean."

Luca stepped forward, smirking as he saw the young man swallow hard, and asking with feigned casualness, "Now, Mr Addy, you were saying?"

"I choose my family," Zach repeated, hoping he understood the point of the man's question. "You asked us whether we chose family or friends, and I choose my family."

Tony and Carlo exchanged glances, but Luca continued, apparently unphased, "You're willing to hand Dr Brennan over to us in return for us sparing the lives of your family? Even after all the years you spent working with her?"

Zach nodded confidently. "It's most logical to value family over friends. I can get a new anthropology professor, and I can make new friends, but it's impossible to replace my parents. I could even replace my brothers and sisters if my parents had more children, but I have no way of creating a new mother and father."

The two brothers looked slightly appalled by his callous yet logical reasoning, but Luca just nodded in comprehension, saying calmly, "You made the right choice. Now tell us where they are."

Zach reached into his pocket, pulling out a neatly folded printout while the men instinctively took a step forward in anticipation. Opening the sheet with shaking hands, he read aloud, "They're in central Virginia. I triangulated the cell phone signal to here..." So saying, he handed them the sheet and Luca scanned it, a smile of triumph curving across his face.

Tony, however, had more pressing matters on his mind and walked closer to Zach, saying threateningly, "And how the hell did you find us here, kid? 'Cause I don't remember broadcasting our address to you science types."

The young man's face paled even more and he explained nervously, acutely aware of the guns perched on the hips of the three men in front of him, "I accessed the main server at the Jeffersonian to trace the source of the emails sent to all of us. The computer system records where we log in to our accounts and since the emails were sent from ourselves to ourselves all I had to do was trace the place where we logged in."

Luca raised an eyebrow at this, suspicion coloring his voice, "The location was encoded."

Zach just nodded again. "Yes, but a simple diversionary signal is less effective with multiple messages. While it would take hours to trace the route of one message through various countries and diversions, three messages sent in the same way can speed up the tracking process using a program that is currently in beta testing by the CIA and is accessible to someone with knowledge of the correct passwords."

Carlo blinked in confusion, before narrowing his eyes as Zach's last statement registered. "You traced our emails using a CIA program? You with the CIA?"

"No, but my friend, Jack Hodgins, has access to the program from passwords that he most likely obtained on a conspiracy website." Zach paused before clarifying, "He's not with the CIA either. It's illegal access."

Carlo opened his mouth to speak again but was cut off by a chuckle from his cousin, "The conspiracy theorist uses CIA software to trace his junk mail. Somehow that doesn't surprise me."

Irritated by Luca's apparent lack of concern for the consequences of this information, Tony stepped forward too, asking roughly, "Who else knows where we are? Who did you tell about this? Because you were warned, kid; if you go to the Feds, the deal's off."

"No-one," Zach responded quickly, panicked at the recurrence of the threat to his family. "I found the locations myself since Hodgins and Angela weren't likely to agree with my rationale."

There was a tense silence in the room, all of them fully aware that "rationale" in this case meant "decision to sacrifice my friends". Finally Luca broke it, his tone business-like as he turned to his cousins and instructed, "Call as many contacts as you can and tell them we're doing this now. We leave for Virginia in thirty minutes."

The others nodded, pulling their cell phones from their pockets and moving to the other rooms to make the necessary phone calls. Taking this movement as his cue to leave, Zach got to his feet, his eyes darting hopefully toward the door and his shoulders tense with fear.

This fear proved to be entirely justified as Luca turned abruptly back to him, a cruel smile on his face as he asked pointedly, "Where do you think you're going?"

Before he could answer, he pushed him back done on the couch, his dark eyes meeting Zach's frightened ones as he informed him, "You're coming with us, kid. If we don't find them, we may need you still." His smile widened as he added mockingly, "Of course, if we do find them, you'll get to watch as we put a bullet in your boss' brain."

Taking a tentative sip of her hot coffee, Temperance stared out of the kitchen window as the afternoon breezes swept through the forest surrounding the cabin. Despite her previous conviction that she was not a woman who enjoyed "smelling the flowers", she couldn't help but relax slightly in the picturesque location, miles away from mobsters, threats and attempted murder.

The tension from the argument the day before was still present in the house, with the partners barely saying a word to each other in the last twenty-four hours. Their anger had cooled, but the uncomfortable silence still remained, both of them too proud to apologise for their respective mistakes. At first Brennan had been thankful that Booth seemed to spent every waking minute out of the house and away from her, but after waking up that morning to find the couch slept on and the agent disappearing back into the woods, the avoidance was starting to get to her.

Always one to prefer confrontation and simple discussion to the complexities of silent treatment, she set her coffee down on the counter, picking up the other mug and moving to stand in the doorway to the kitchen, looking out into the lounge.

She sighed softly as she saw Booth sitting on the sofa, resting after yet another long, cathartic walk in the woods. Even with her lack of knowledge of body language, she could practically feel the stress emanating from him as he sat with his head in his hands, his shoulders hunched and stiff and his foot tapping irritably on the floor. Slowly and cautiously, she crossed the lounge, her slippered feet making no noise on the soft carpet, and came to a stop in front of him, biting her lip anxiously.

Booth looked up in surprise as she stood over him, and she saw his shoulders sag slightly, expecting another argument and resigned to further shouting matches with his partner. Her eyes drifted up to meet his, seeing utter exhaustion etched into his features as a result of the events over the last two days.

"Bones, I-"

Feeling a sudden wave of guilt wash over her at the prospect of him shouldering the blame for the entire fight, Temperance swallowed hard before silencing him firmly, "Booth."

Having never been particularly skilled at contrition, and rarely being the one to utter the word 'Sorry', she held the mug out to him hopefully, a nervous and inept peace offering.

"I, uh, I made you some hot chocolate," she stammered as he took the mug, his cold fingers brushing her overly warm ones.

His eyes flickered down to the mug and a tired but genuine smile crossed his face as he looked back up at her, asking in amusement, "Pink marshmallows?"

She shrugged, a smile on her own lips as she repeated his earlier assertion back to him, "Pink ones taste better than white."

Relief washed over her when he grinned in response, taking a sip of the hot chocolate as the previously awkward silence between them settled once again into one of comfortable understanding.

More discussion of the argument in the next chapter which should be done soon. Reviews welcomed.