I am the worst updater ever. I fully admit it and apologise. I'm hoping to improve. I'm also hoping to get up a new chapter of "The Last Time She Got Away" by either late this week or early next week. I want to thank all of you for your previous reviews and present the following for your continued enjoyment.
Six
"What the hell do you mean I have fifteen minutes?" Booth asked, staring at Bones as if she had lost her mind.
"Exactly that."
"Ok, that's it," Booth said, his voice tight with exasperation, "I've had it up to here with this whole no answer thing. I am not leaving my house until you explain what the hell is going on."
Temperance looked at him and cocked her head. There was a trace of a smile around her mouth as she replied, "Just because you say it in that definitive tone doesn't mean it means anything to me. Now where do you keep your overnight bag?"
Booth watched her as she turned away from him and went down the hall towards his bedroom. The woman was impossible. He quickly went after her.
"Alright," he began as he stood in the threshold of his bedroom watching as Bones searched in his closet for his carry-on bag, "I have to admit you throwing my own words back at me was witty but it doesn't change anything. I mean it, Bones. I've run out of patience. If you don't tell me what on earth is going on, I'm going to stay here."
"Booth, I can't tell you right now."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that when we get to a secure location, everything will be explained."
"What if I say that isn't enough?"
Temperance dropped the black shoulder bag she had dug out of his closet on top of his bed and stared at him. Both of their expressions were fierce and neither one was backing down. She drew a deep breath and finally replied, "If you refuse to come, then I'll have to leave without you."
And with that, she brushed past where he stood in the doorway and went back down the hallway, her spine straight, her shoulders squared. They rose and fell as she issued a sigh.
Booth heaved a sigh of his own. There wasn't a chance in hell he'd let Bones go wherever it was she was off to without him. Especially when he already knew that she was petrified. Despite all her attempts to mask it, he'd felt the fear coming off her in waves the moment she'd come in his front door.
"Bones, wait," he called out.
She halted at the end of the hallway and slowly turned to face him, a small spark of hope in her eyes.
"What should I be packing?"
Booth peered at Bones out of the corner of his eye. The past three hours had been a blur of activity. Bones had rushed him through packing some underwear and basic hygiene supplies. When he had asked about clothes, she had simply replied that they would be supplied. He'd known better at this point than to ask who would be doing the supplying. He'd then called Rebecca and spoken briefly to Parker who wasn't too upset that his father was going to be unavailable for the next couple of weeks as it meant he could have a sleepover with one of his friends from school.
Precisely fifteen minutes after Bones had knocked on his door, they were out on the sidewalk in front of his house loading his bag into the trunk of a black town car. Booth had raised an eyebrow at their new set of wheels but was unsurprised when it wasn't explained where the car had come from or to whom it belonged. The driver, who not once had turned around to face them, dropped them off shortly thereafter on the tarmac of a private airport. Retrieving their small carry-on bags from the trunk, he and Brennan had then boarded a small private jet. This was where he presently found himself, staring out the window into the darkness, with only the blinking light on the end of the wing to really look at. He glanced over briefly at his partner for the fifteenth time since they'd left the ground. She had spent most of the trip immersed in a large file she had removed from her bag shortly after takeoff, which she still wouldn't let him even peek at. There was a notepad nearby for any scribbling she seemed to feel necessary as well. Booth had read the notepad but it had meant almost nothing to him. It was filled with all of the scientific mumbo jumbo that Bones was constantly translating for him. Bones had promised him answers but he hadn't gotten any so far tonight.
He suddenly noticed the glimmer of city lights beneath them and then realized that they were getting nearer. As if to confirm his thoughts, the pilot came on the overhead speakers and announced that they would be landing shortly. Brennan quickly closed the folder and returned it to her bag. After fastening her seatbelt, she began to tap her fingers nervously on the armrest between her and Booth.
"You ok there, Bones?" Booth asked.
"Fine."
"You sure? You seem a little anxious," he prodded.
Brennan turned to face him and appeared ready to argue and then suddenly changed her mind.
"You are correct. I am slightly apprehensive about the direction in which this case is headed."
Booth relaxed slightly.
"It's about time," he said.
"What do you mean?" Brennan questioned, her brow creased perplexedly.
"That that's the first time since we started this case you've actually told me the truth about how you were feeling. You've been stonewalling me ever since we left the Lincoln Memorial. It's about time you let me back in."
Temperance gave him a small smile that he returned but before they could speak again, the plane touched down with a gentle bump. The jet taxied down the runway and instead of letting them out on the tarmac, it pulled into a large hangar. Booth noticed that the massive bay door to the hangar was closed before he and Bones were let off the plane. These people, whoever they were, were immensely paranoid.
He stood up and stretched and then grabbed his overnight bag from the seat across from him and trailed Bones as she disembarked from the aircraft. They descended the small flight of stairs and then stopped. Booth, who had been following Brennan's lead, glanced over at her. While there were a few people milling about she appeared uninterested in them and instead was peering around as if looking for someone in particular, which he supposed she was. A low wolf whistle to Booth's left caught both of their attentions.
Booth turned to see who had dared to whistle at his partner. The man who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere was about the same height as Booth, his straight brown hair slightly longer so that it almost hung in his blue eyes. His build was more lanky although Booth sensed that there was more lethal power to this man than initially met the eye. He was dressed simply in jeans and a black t-shirt, a look that would allow him to blend in easily with a crowd. His chiselled face was creased in a large grin aimed entirely at Bones and as Booth glanced over at his partner he realized that her expression mirrored that of the unknown newcomer. He felt his gut twist with the familiar sensation of jealousy. This reaction intensified when the man quickly covered the short distance between himself and Bones and enveloped her in an exuberant hug, lifting her off the ground and swinging her around, causing her to laugh. When he set her back down, the newcomer took a step back, looked Brennan up and down and finally spoke.
"Temperance, it's been much too long."
Bones smiled in return, "It has been a while."
The pair continued to grin at each other until Booth cleared his throat. Brennan started at the sound and then looked at Booth as if she had almost forgotten he was there.
"Oh, yes," she finally said. "Seeley Booth meet Jake Trent. Jake, this is Booth."
"Ah, the famous FBI agent," Jake said in a friendly manner, extending his hand to shake Booth's.
Booth smiled in return, although it was not quite genuine. The man was instantly likeable but Booth disliked the vibes he had gotten from the hug Jake had given Bones. It had been entirely too... familiar.
"I have to admit I still don't know who you are," Booth replied.
"Yeah, that was part of the deal we had made with Tempe. We didn't want her revealing anything about this case to anyone, seeing as it's still ongoing. For the moment anyway."
Booth swallowed another spurt of jealousy at Jake calling Bones Tempe. That was a certain indicator of intimacy.
"Ok, who is we? And what exactly is this case?" he asked.
Jake turned to Brennan, "You haven't told him yet?"
"I thought it better to wait until we were at a secure location. Besides, you're much more familiar with the current aspects of the case. It's been almost five years since I was involved."
Jake shook his head in amazement, "Has it really been five years?"
"Almost six. You must not be very good at your job if it's taken you this long," Temperance replied with a grin.
Booth stared in shock at his partner. Had she actually teased someone?
"That's just because you left," Jake shot back, causing Booth's face to go back to his previous expression of barely hidden disapproval.
"Ok, remember me? FBI agent, still out of the loop?" Booth interjected.
Jake faced him with an apologetic expression, "Of course, follow me."
Jake turned and led them across the interior of the hangar to a back office, his arm wrapped firmly around Brennan's shoulders in a possessive manner that set Booth's teeth on edge. The FBI agent's mood improved slightly when they approached a door with the blinds drawn across the half window and Jake was forced to let go of the forensic anthropologist. Jake went in first and then held the door open for the pair trailing behind him. Booth followed Bones into the rather dingy office space. All of the furniture looked well-used and the paint was faded. Booth made his way toward one of the beat-up chairs in front of the desk that took up most of the room but stopped when Bones cleared her throat.
"Sorry, Agent Booth," Jake said as he strode over to what looked like the closet, "we've got a bit further to go."
The other man then proceeded to open the door and shove the coats inside it aside revealing yet another door with a keypad lock. Quickly typing in a code, Jake once again held the door open for Booth and Brennan who descended down the curved steel staircase behind the door. Jake followed them, readjusting the coats and then shutting the door behind him.
"Tempe, you remember the way?" he called ahead.
"Yes," she replied shortly. She hurried down the stairs to the base where they passed through a set of sliding glass doors into a space roughly the same size as her lab back in Washington. Offices lined both sides of the large room with a series of bullpens set up in the open space. The room, despite the late hour, was still buzzing with the sounds of computers humming and low conversations taking place between dozens of people. The whole space had a slightly bluish tinge due to the fluorescent lighting and lack of windows. Booth quickly realised that they were now below the hangar they had stood in just a few minutes ago.
Although he was watching with interest all of the people and desks that they passed as they walked down the left side of the room, Temperance led the way without sparing a glance at anything until Booth nearly tripped over her when she halted abruptly. He looked around trying to determine what had stopped her and spotted the name on the office door to their left, Agent Jacob Trent, NSA.
"National Security?" he demanded incredulously.
"Yes, Agent Booth, National Security. Why don't we step into my office and I'll answer all of those questions you've been dying to ask?" Jake gestured and smiled in a friendly manner that Booth liked in spite of himself.
Stepping inside the threshold Booth found an office space very similar to his own. The desk was crowded with papers and files although the brass nameplate was still highly visible. On the wall behind the desk were photos of Trent with both 1950s era cars as well as various small airplanes. There were also a few framed sports clippings, all basketball, however, not hockey. Several filing cabinets lined the wall on the right and on top of them were what looked like family photos. Temperance glanced over at them as she seated herself in one of the two chairs in front of the desk.
"How's your sister?" she asked casually as Jake sidled around the desk and settled himself in the leather chair behind it.
"Still trying to convince me to settle down."
"No luck?"
"I have commitment issues."
"Says the man who's been working the same case for six years."
Booth broke in again before he was forced to witness more bantering between his Bones and the other man.
"And speaking of the case, what the hell are we doing here? And where exactly is here anyway?"
"Well, Booth, you're in one of our Miami field offices for the moment," Jake answered.
"For the moment?" Booth repeated questioningly.
"Yes. Agent Booth you're about to be read in on a covert operation the NSA has been running for the past six years. We've decided to include you, as a member of an outside agency, in this operation due to Dr Brennan's rather strident demands for us to do so as a condition for her continued participation."
Bones made a face at the word strident, which Booth noted, but she remained silent.
"So what's this op?"
"I, along with a few other select agents, have been attempting to collect enough evidence with which to indict an international arms dealer based in Cuba, by the name of Juan Guzman."
Booth felt his eyes widen in surprise.
"You want to indict him for weapons trading?"
"We know better than to even try for that. Guzman has very carefully distanced himself from any of the actual transactions. We've traced the weapons from his warehouses in Cuba to where they've been sold to various gangs in L.A. and Chicago among other locations and not once found any connection back to him. Even the money is well-laundered before it finds its way back to him."
"Then what are you trying to indict him for?"
"Murder. Six years ago a small group of Guzman's employees disappeared. Rumours ran rampant that he had caught wind of a spy and had eliminated all of the likely suspects. Unfortunately for us, one of these individuals was an NSA agent attempting to collect information on his arms business. A year later, one of Guzman's former lovers arrived in the United States on a raft and informed the government that she knew where the bodies could be found. The Agency quickly brought in one of the newest and brightest minds in forensic anthropology on the case and sent her to Cuba. Working undercover, she was able to begin recovering the remains. However, before any identification could take place she was caught at the site by one of Guzman's employees, taken into Guzman's custody and was kept in one of his compound for a few weeks. We eventually managed to extract her and bring her back to the United States with the aid of two of the staff from the compound who were promised safety and citizenship in the United States in exchange for their cooperation. Guzman's people reburied the remains in another location and the NSA was left attempting to find them back as well as continuing to monitor Guzman's operations.
"That was five years ago. Five days ago, you and Tempe found a set of remains at the Lincoln Memorial. She quickly realised that the configuration and condition of the bones was identical to the remains she had worked with in Cuba five years previously. The man you identified as Marco Gonzales was actually Antonio Morales, one of the two people that helped liberate Dr Brennan from Guzman's compound. The other was his wife, Maura, who you'd know better as Alandra Gonzales."
"Ok, interesting story, but all that it really tells me is that Guzman managed to order a hit on Morales and that you guys need to work on your witness protection program."
"Booth," Temperance finally spoke. "When we met with Maura yesterday... she told me where to find the remains."
"In your lab?"
"No, the remains that we lost five years ago."
"So what does this mean?"
"We're going to Cuba."
So what do you think? Should I go back into retirement or keep going? Any and all comments are appreciated and well-looked after.
