Author's Note: Next installment! Woot! Don't worry, guys, there won't be any character deaths. I'm not that mean. This is a long chapter, but it's not the last chapter. I am almost done though. Thank you to everyone that has read and reviewed so far!
Booth reached blindly for the handle, flushing the toilet and standing. He turned the water on in the sink and made a cup with his hand, washing the taste of vomit out of his mouth. He didn't bother to dry his hands before leaving the bathroom.
"Hodgins!" He barked as he stepped out, "Talk to me."
Immediately he was surrounded by the squint squad, their drawn faces on him. Normally, he would be worried that they knew he had just puked his guts out, but he frankly didn't care right now. He had other things to worry about.
"Somebody tell me something before I break something," He demanded
"I was able to get a positive I.D.," Cam started, "The … flesh does indeed belong to Dr. Brennan."
"So you're saying that someone … cut away a piece of Brennan's flesh and sent it here, to us?" Angela asked
"Not us," Sweets corrected, "Booth."
"Great. Thanks for the clarification, Sweets."
Booth's voice dripped venom, leaving no room for a rebuttal. Less than an hour ago a package had arrived addressed to Booth. Upon opening the package, they had found a two inch length of bloody skin. No one had wanted to say what everyone had instinctively known.
"The blood indicates that she's alive," Cam continued, "Or, at least, that she was alive when he cut this from her."
"I was able to get a fingerprint off the skin. You were right, Booth, it's Conner," Hodgins started when Cam stopped
"Wait, he left a fingerprint? Doesn't that seem a little messy to anyone else?" Angela asked
"He wants us to know who he is," Booth responded, "He doesn't care if we find him. The whole point, his whole view on the situation is that by the time we do find him, it'll be too late. Bones will be dead."
Those four words took root in his mind. He tried to imagine the lab without her, tried to imagine his life without her. Instead, a memory came to him. A memory of the two of them at the park, while Parker was on the merry go round. He had been explaining why coworkers couldn't be involved romantically. She had sat there with him, quiet, while he gave her the reasons he had given himself. Now, he was faced with her death by the hands of a man with a personal vendetta against him. More ammunition for his argument, and yet at that very moment he could remember the silky feeling of her lips on his.
"Anything else?" He queried angrily
"I found trace amounts of Phenobarbital in her blood," Cam said, "It's a sedative used in both humans and animals."
"So she was sedated when he did this?" Angela asked
"Possibly. It's probably more likely that it's still in her blood stream from when he kidnapped her."
"So, we've got nothing," Booth reiterated, the anger vibrating off of him in waves, "We know Conner has her, and he's drugged her and started …"
He couldn't finish the sentence and no one stepped in to help. They all knew what he was going to say anyway. The evidence suggested that this man was cutting flesh away from Brennan's body while she was awake to feel it.
Booth didn't notice the small tremors that had begun to shake his body. He didn't notice anything, actually, so lost was he in his own head. They had been unable to trace the origination of the package, and there were no particulates in her blood or on her flesh. They were getting nowhere. Bones was somewhere out there, waiting for him to rescue her. That thought tore a hole in his already vulnerable. What she must be thinking: her whole family abandons her, and now, when she needed him most, he was nowhere to be found.
"I am gonna kill that son of a bitch!" He exclaimed loudly, suddenly
"Seeley," Cam said, "We'll find her. We will. You're not alone in this."
He wanted to say thank you for the words that were meant to reassure him, but he couldn't. He was alone in this; if she died, he would be the one guilty of never telling Temperance Brennan how much she meant to him. He would be the one who never told her that he was there for her, that he cared about her. That short coming was his, and his alone.
"Wait!" Hodgins nearly yelled, "I got it!"
The curly haired man disappeared from sight, only to return seconds later with the brown paper the package had been wrapped in. They all looked at him expectantly.
"When I went over the paper, I found no particulates or slime of any kind," He rambled, "But I did find this!"
He pointed excitedly to something on the paper that the rest of them couldn't see. He waited a second, then seemed to remember that no one had any idea where to look. Hodgins strode confidently to Booth and held out the paper, pointing to a very faint marking.
"You were a military man, you should recognize this. I don't know how I missed it the first time around."
Booth scanned the mark for several seconds, trying to make sense of whatever Hodgins was rambling about. The ink was faded, missing completely in several spots, but a pattern was slowly starting to form in Booth's head.
"It's the Navy seal," He breathed, "He used military paper to wrap the package!"
"Bingo!" Hodgins said, snapping his fingers, "He's keeping Brennan on a Naval base! Bet he didn't do that intentionally."
"Hodgins, you're a genius!" Cam commended him
The lab came alive in a flurry of action and talking, while Booth remained rooted in his spot. Hodgins was searching for any Navy installation within a two hundred mile radius that was no longer in use. The others crowded around him, spouting off any helpful suggestions that might narrow the search.
Booth watched them all but could not bring himself to move just yet. His limbs felt heavy and full of lead. He could not shake the knowledge that this wasn't just another case; this was his partner, his Bones. That bastard had taken her to get to him, because he had somehow known that it would work. A stranger, a man Booth hadn't thought of in years, had known what it would do to him if he hurt his partner. He wanted to chastise himself for letting her get so close, for letting her become important, but he couldn't. He was thankful for Brennan's presence in his life, and he couldn't pretend that he wasn't. He didn't want to. Right now, all he wanted was to find her and bring her home.
"There are two decommissioned bases in the area," Hodgins said then, catching his attention, "One of them is only thirty two miles from Brennan's apartment. The other is eighty four miles."
"Great. Get me the name of the first one and the address. I'll head there and send another team to the farther one."
"My money's on the closer one," Cam said instantly, "He lives in this area, he would have easier access the closer he stayed."
"I agree. Cam, you're coming with me. You three, stay here."
"What? No, I'm coming with you," Angela argued
"No, you're not. Stay here with Hodgins, Angela. We don't know yet if Conner's working alone, and you have no training in these situations. I can't be worrying about you while I'm trying to save Bones. Now stay here."
He motioned toward Cam. She stood and they made their way swiftly towards the elevator, Booth fighting his urge to run. He was focused on his next course of action: he had to get to that Naval base. Once he was there, they had the problem of trying to figure out exactly which building Bones was being kept in.
They made it to the vehicle in record time. As soon as he had started the engine he flipped on the siren and pealed out of the garage, going as fast as he safely could. In the seat next to him, Cam said nothing. He glanced sidelong at her, and wasn't surprised to see a look of concentration on her face. No doubt she too was trying to plot their next course.
As nice as it was to work with someone who had a well informed idea of the process, Booth couldn't help thinking how wrong it was that Bones wasn't the one in that seat. Over the last few years, the passenger seat had become her spot. He could count on one hand how many times she had not been in that seat, and most of them were a result of a dangerous situation. Like this one.
Booth pulled out his cell phone and hit the speed dial for his boss. In as few sentences as he could manage he explained the situation and requested back up to the address for the Naval base. When he'd hung up, Cam cleared her throat.
"How are we going to know where exactly they are?" She asked
"Logically, I would say they are going to be in one of the medical buildings. That cut was made with surgical instruments, not some Swiss Army knife. Conner isn't exactly a doctor, so I'm assuming that any surgical equipment would have to be what he's found in the building."
"What do you mean 'isn't exactly a doctor'?" She questioned
"Well, he's a retired veterinarian," Booth explained
"The Navy has vets?"
"Not very many. In fact, Conner was one of only three in the entire Navy."
"Well that would explain how he got his hands on Phenobarbital."
"Yeah, well he's going to be begging for drugs when I get my hands on him," Booth hissed
"Seeley …" Cam started
"Don't, Cam," He cut her off, "Don't say it. This man is trying to hurt me by torturing my partner, an innocent woman. He's trying to get to me through her."
"Is it working?"
The question sounded innocent enough, but it's implications sent him reeling. He took several deep breaths and concentrated on navigating his way through the busy city streets. People were out in force at midnight on a Saturday night.
Saturday. Brennan had been missing for four days. Did she even know how much time had passed? Had she been drugged so heavily that she didn't notice the passage of time?
"Yes," He nearly whispered, "Yes it's working. The thought of her, alone, injured … that would get to anyone."
Cam made no reply, but he thought he could see a flicker of understanding cross her face. Angry, determined, he applied a little more pressure to the gas pedal. They were past where her car had been found, past her apartment. They had to be getting close.
"Take the next right," Cam instructed
He did as she said, whipping the vehicle around the corner a little faster than he'd intended. His counterpart made no comment, however, and he continued barreling down the dark street in silence. The city buildings were starting to fall away as they got a little further out of town, the form of large trees dotting the landscape with their black shadows.
"Go left here, then take your immediate right."
Booth did so wordlessly, slowing down a little more around this corner. The vehicle shook as the blacktop gave way to dirt and gravel beneath the tires. Ahead of them, he could start to make out the silent figures of several buildings.
"This is an old access road leading to the secondary gate," Cam explained, "From the looks of it, this road will deposit us right in the middle of the medical facilities."
He nodded in acknowledgement and slowed down further, dimming his lights and killing the siren. The last thing they needed was for Conner to hear them coming and panic. There was no way to know what he would do then, although even the best scenario made him want to shoot something. They crept along the road for about another mile and a half, until the buildings began to pop up around them. Booth surveyed what he could see of the area; a wide gap had been cut out of the chain link fence, suggesting that Conner had scoped this place out long before he'd used it. How long had this man been planning this? How long had he been preparing, setting everything up?
"Stop here," She told him, and even her voice sounded softer, "Kill the engine."
He pulled to a stop as quietly as he could, turning off the ignition almost simultaneously. They sat there for several long moments, both of them scanning their surroundings for any sign of movement or activity. When nothing happened, Booth opened his door and carefully stepped out. Once he was standing, he slid his jacket off and pulled his gun out if its holster, clicking off the safety. Wordlessly, he motioned for Cam to get out as well. He waited several seconds for his eyesight to adjust to the dark, then glanced around him. They were almost directly in the middle of what used to be a parking lot, with four similarly sized buildings around them in a horseshoe. There were no lights on in any of them, nothing to suggest activity of any kind.
He motioned to Cam, who came to stand by his side.
"What do you think?" Booth whispered
"They look identical," She stated, "Brennan could be in any one of them."
"I know that," He hissed, "Which one do you think?"
"You want me to guess!?" She shot back, sounding outraged, "I can't guess when …"
"We don't have a choice," He cut her off, "We're here, and there's no point in wasting time. Now which building would you say is the most likely?"
She didn't respond at first, choosing instead to scan the buildings again. Their structural differences were minute; the one directly in front of them had a staircase leading to the front door, the one to their left a ramp, and the other two were perfectly level with the ground.
Booth could almost hear the seconds ticking by in his head. His muscles were tense, ready to propel him forward into action. Adrenaline heightened his senses, made him aware of every stir in the air around him. He waited, ready to spring, and still she had not made a decision.
"How old is Conner?"
"What?" He demanded
"How old is he?" She insisted
"By now, somewhere around 48. Why?"
"If we assume Brennan was unconscious when he brought her here, then that means he would have a lot of dead weight. Add to that the fact that he's not a strapping young man anymore, I'd say we can safely rule out the two that aren't floor level. He wouldn't want to make any more work for himself than he had to."
Booth couldn't argue with that reasoning. He glanced at the two remaining buildings, both situated to the right of what he would call the main building. Neither of them gave him any clue to work off of. Neither building had any outstanding features. He glanced at Cam, but she too seemed stuck. He glanced back at the buildings, torn.
Then, a familiar and mechanical sound sliced through the silent night air. He remained stationary and counted to ten, making absolutely positive that it was indeed what he thought it was.
"Is that a generator?" Cam whispered beside him
"It must be how he's getting power to the building," Booth whispered back
Very slowly, he made his way to the building farthest to the right, where the sound was coming from. Weeds and grass did a decent job of masking any sound their footsteps may have made as they approached, and he focused on keeping his breathing even.
When they reached the door, Booth held up his hand for her to stop. He pulled a small .22 handgun from the holster around his ankle and handed it to her, making sure she took the safety off before moving forward again. The door before them was solid wood, and Booth found himself praying that it wouldn't creak when he pushed it open. Conner must have felt very safe here, because when Booth tried the door knob he found it unlocked. Holding his breath, he turned the knob and pushed the door open; it swung away from the pressure of his hand soundlessly.
He didn't allow himself to feel relief. The door was only one obstacle in a line of many on his path to his partner. They stepped inside a few feet, then stopped to take stock of the room. There was no furniture, just a wide empty space. Several more feet in front of them, Booth could make out the shape of a staircase in the dark. So much for Cam's theory on their psycho not wanting to carry dead weight up the stairs.
They inched forward, toward the stairs. Booth warred with himself for several seconds, running several possibilities through his mind. Even if they were to creep up the stairs, there was always the possibility that one would creak and give them away, effectively ruining their element of surprise. Rushing up the stairs, however, was just too much of a risk, and would definitely alert Conner to their presence. Slow and steady wins the race, he reminded himself.
He checked to make sure Cam was still following him before ascending the stairs. He tried to distribute his weight evenly as he went, concentrating on foot placement as well. Every staircase he could remember creaked when someone stepped in the middle of the step, so he was careful to step more toward the edges. Behind him, Cam had taken his lead and was doing her best to keep to the wall.
Booth blinked several times, suddenly aware of a noticeable lightening in the dark. Outlines were becoming more defined around him, which could only mean that they were getting close to some sort of light source. He held up his hand for Cam to stop.
His ears pricked at the faint sound of something above them. He strained to hear it better, willing his heartbeat to quiet down.
"Footsteps," Cam breathed behind him, "On the floor above us."
He listened again. Even from this distance he could tell that they were to heavy to be Bones', which meant they could only belong to Conner. He waited a few moments more, but there was only the sound of one set of footsteps. Conner must have been working alone.
Now, suddenly so close to his partner, in such close proximity to her captor, it took all of his strength not to rush up the remaining stairs. She was there, just barely out of reach. He would never say it, but he was certain that she was waiting for him, expecting him to come for her.
Booth tried to focus on the task at hand. Once they got into the light, it was just a matter of time. There was always the chance that Conner would happen upon them as they tried to find Brennan, an eventuality they had to be prepared for. He turned to his comrade.
"Protocol makes me say that if you find him, hold your fire," He muttered, "A mixture of sense and anger tells me to say that if you shoot him, I'll say it was in self defense."
Even in the pale blackness he could see the ghost of a smile on Cam's pretty face. He took a deep breath and started up the stairs again.
Emerging from the dark night into the light, even though they did so slowly, made him blink several times to adjust his eyesight. They came to stand on the top of the stairs, now engulfed fully in light. The staircase they had used to get there stopped on this floor, but he could see another set of stairs at the end of the hallway before them. The hallway only extended in one direction, toward their right, ending at the bottom of the other staircase. Several doors lead out of the hallway, five if he had counted right. Two on the right, three on the left. All five doors stood open, but the landing they were on was in such a spot to give them a perfect view of the doors, but not into the rooms behind them. One of those rooms, he knew, held not only Bones, but Conner as well. He had no way of knowing if they were in the same room.
His nerve endings were on fire. He was almost painfully aware of his surroundings. Every wall was painted hospital white; the floor, like the front door, was solid wood, and a stainless steel vent ran the length of the ceiling.
"I'll take the three on the left," He informed Cam, "You…"
He froze at the sound of another voice, clear but quiet from the distance that separated them.
"Glad to have you back, Doc," A man, presumably Conner, greeted, "I wasn't sure if you'd wake up."
A very soft voice murmured something in response, something he didn't need to hear to know that the voice belonged to his partner. Anger, the same anger that had been attacking him for the last four days, surged through his veins. His mind was filled the picture of Bones' beautiful face, smiling at him across the table. All at once his resolve snapped, unable to keep him rooted to the spot when he was so close to her.
Swiftly, purposefully, his legs carried him down the hall and into the middle door on the left. He barreled into the room like a tornado, his gun raised and his finger on the trigger. There, in the middle of the room, was Brennan. Tethered to a steel table, wrists and ankles bound to the table with restraints. Behind the table was none other than a very startled Conner Swenson.
"Step away from her," He commanded in a deadly voice, "Or I'll shoot you between the eyes."
He was aware of Cam standing beside him, her gun leveled on Conner as well. His eyes fell to his partner, who appeared to be awake but not entirely coherent. She had a gash on her forehead just below her hairline, but it didn't look serious. His eyes traveled down her form and came to rest on her left leg, where her pants had been cut away. Dried blood caked her skin, evidence of what he had done to her.
Cam was speaking, but he was unaware of what she was saying. He lowered his gun and advanced to the table, only vaguely aware that Conner was stepping away as he did so. His hand found and clutched at Brennan's as he struggled to loosen the bindings holding her to the table.
"Booth?" Her voice cracked
"Yeah, Bones, it's me," He assured her, ripping the restraints from her wrists and starting on the ones at her ankles, "I'm gonna take you home."
He averted his eyes from the gaping hole on her ankle, from the dark pool of blood that had gathered on the table beneath her. The only reason he did not turn and shoot Conner Swenson was because he needed to get Bones out of there.
Brennan's eyes, glassy and unfocused, fixed on his and held.
"I knew you'd come," She whispered brokenly, "I knew you wouldn't give up."
