Sorry this took so long, I have worked an outrageous ammount of overtime this week. I'll try not to keep you waiting this long again. Enjoy, and review!

"Uh… I'm not sure this is the best course of action," said Wilson.

"What?!" exclaimed Zack. "What is the best course of action? Wait until they leave her body for real?!" Booth didn't ad his own incredulity at Wilson's statement, but he didn't call Zack down either.

"No, not that we shouldn't go rescue her, just that we shouldn't rush into it. We need a plan. A plan and weapons. Not that Zack's evil-MacGyver act wasn't brilliant back there, but the men in her life are stupid. Melissa Dalton is not. We had better have a good plan, an armada to rival David Koresh, and a healthy dose of luck to boot." He sighed. "I've seen first-hand what this woman can do."

"So what do you suggest?" asked Booth cautiously. He had faced situations in which he was outnumbered 6 to 1, and worse, but this guy didn't think they could take one woman. Of course, having a hostage complicated the issue, but it was workable.

"We go scope out the residence, see what's what. Then go back to my place, regroup, make a plan, and come back armed to take Fort Knox."

It seemed like a good plan to the professional side of Booth, even though the side that saw Casey as a little sister was appalled at the idea of leaving her with that woman even a second longer than necessary. Zack, on the other hand had no professional side to turn to. "We can't just leave Casey! That bitch could kill her at any time! We have to go now!"

Wilson weighed the balance in his mind for a moment. He knew that the girl wouldn't be killed any time soon. And he could even reassure the younger man of that. But at what cost? Finally, he had to make sure Zack knew they had time. "She's not going to kill her in the next few days, Zack."

Wilson had been hoping in vain that he would just accept that as a fact, but that was not the case. "How do you know that?"

Wilson swallowed. "Marti- Casey, if you prefer- betrayed her. Melissa isn't the type to…well, to simply kill her. There will be a great deal of time taken, and while it will be most unpleasant for your friend, she's a tough kid. She'll be okay for a few more hours."

"Define 'okay'," said Zack, the anger creeping back into his voice, and Booth found himself unconsciously edging between the two in case Zack did something he'd regret.

Wilson looked at the ground, and when he looked back into the acid-filled brown eyes that were staring him down, his own eyes conveyed how much he wished he didn't have to say this. "Zack, what is going to hurt M- Casey more? A beating, maybe a little worse, but nothing she hasn't already lived through before, or being forced to watch while you, or Booth, or is tortured? If we fail, that's what will happen. Do you want to make it that much harder on her?"

Tears blurred the acid from Zack's eyes, washed away the anger. "Okay," he conceded, voice barely above a whisper. "You guys lead, I'll go along."

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Two hours later, Wilson parked the car half a mile away from the secluded house Melissa Dalton had rented under a false name. The single story building had wire-covered windows and basement access in the back. "Okay," said Booth. "Here's the plan. You two cover the front. I bust in through the basement window, hopefully grab Casey, bring her back here. Zack takes her away, to a hospital if necessary, then we call for back-up. Any questions?"

"Yeah," said Zack. "First, why not call for back-up now? If the FBI wants this woman so bad, why don't we have a SWAT team, special ops, and Eliot Ness at our disposal? Why are we alone?"

Booth rolled his eyes. He had long ago accepted his teamwork with the squint squad, but it still annoyed him in situations where they didn't understand. "Because," he said slowly, as if explaining it to a child, "if we show up with a circus like that, she puts a bullet first in Casey's head, then in her own. We lose, Casey loses, things go to Hell. Leave the procedural calls to the professionals! Anything else?"

"Not question-wise, but there is something else."

"Well?" Booth was starting to lose patience.

"I'm coming with you."

"The Hell you are!"

Zack pulled out Casey's switchblade. "You work with a partner so you have someone to watch your back. You need me."

Booth rolled his eyes. "I need Wilson, or Sully, or even Bones. I don't need you. I need someone with more than book-smarts!"

Zack stood up a little straighter. "I'm going to be there when you find Casey. I am going to carry her out myself. The question is whether we go in together or I wait until you're out of sight and then follow. If I'm with you, I can watch your back."

Booth thought he might be a little safer with his back exposed rather than a pissed off, untested forensic anthropologist watching it, but it was clear he wasn't going to win. "Did you ever figure out how to close that thing?"

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Booth crept quietly around to the back of the house. Even at this late hour, every light in the house was on. They never saw a shadow or anything moving, however, so he couldn't get a fix on how many were there or where they were. They crawled down the small incline to the basement door. Booth checked the door over carefully, and tried to figure out what the best idea was. He tested the strength of the window, ran his hands over the hinges, felt the door frame. The easiest way would be to break the window, but that would make noise and attract attention. As he comtemplated the problem, Zack reached up to the doorknob, unlocked it, and cracked the door.

Booth looked at him for a moment, and he shrugged. "If you want to keep someone in, you don't lock it from the inside," he whispered.

The agent handed Zack the flashlight so he could hold the gun and still have a free hand and they crept inside. As Zack cut the flashlight beam around the dusty basement, he found something that made his heart freeze in his chest. Slumped in a corner, covered in blood, was Casey. He ran to her, relieved that she was breathing.

Booth was only a few steps behind him. He took the flashlight, placed it between his knees, and began trying to untie her. Zack checked her injuries as best he could, and it nearly made him sick. She was unconscious, blood not yet dried coming from her mouth and nose, bruises obscuring her beautiful face, her left eye swollen shut. Booth was struggling to untie the insane tangle of rope holding her to the rusty eye-bolt in the wall, without success. "Here, give me that knife!" he whispered urgently.

Zack pulled out the switchblade and pushed the button. Booth flinched slightly as it popped open, and he was sure he would never be able to get used to the idea of Zack with a weapon. He started cutting, but the tangle was so extensive that it would take a few minutes. Zack stayed focused on the woman he loved. "Casey? Can you hear me? It's Zack. Come on, wake up! Please?"

Finally, she tried to open her eyes, and whimpered slightly. "Zack?" She straightened slightly. "Booth?"

"I'm here too," the agent replied from behind her.

She was wide awake now. "What are you doing here?!" she demanded. "Booth, you were supposed to keep him safe! You promised!"

"I couldn't stop him, Casey," said Booth. "The most I could do was come with him."

Just then, they heard a key in the lock, and froze. Casey's eyes, at least the one that she could open, got very wide. "She's coming! You have to go!"

"No way!" Zack whispered back. "I'm not leaving you! She knows someone is here, so we have to get you out!"

"I can't get these untied. Look, Zack, get out of here! I'll stay, you get Wilson. Come in and save the day." It wasn't Booth's best plan, but it would have to do. If the killer heard someone in here and they both were gone, she would kill Casey and run.

"No," said Zack. "You go, I'll stay." Casey opened her mouth to protest, but Zack went on. "Booth, you have a much better chance of getting us out of here! Now GO!"

Booth looked troubled at leaving not one but both of the youngest, most vulnerable squints in the hands of a monster, but he knew Zack was right. He nodded. All he could think of to say was "I'm sorry."

He closed the door a split second before the other one opened. A middle-age woman with short blond hair opened the door. Zack froze at the sight of how much she looked like Casey. The eyes, the skin, everything. Then he noticed the shotgun.