A/N
A note on the plausibility of Booth racking up all those kills in the last chapter… I read a news story on Yahoo! a few weeks ago about an Army sniper in Iraq who recently got 5 headshots in 8 seconds on a group of six insurgents on a rooftop… at a range of 400m, similar to where I have Booth. The other one got away only because he jumped off the top of three-storey building in sheer desperation. No word on the landing.
This chapter is a shorter one. The followup will be soon.
The Mall, 14t St. near Constitution Ave.
Booth cracked the heavy vest, ripping open the Velcro closures down the side before unlocking the Send key of his radio. He braced himself for an ass-chewing response as he put his right arm through the body armor…
"TELL ME WHY I SHOULDN'T HAVE YOUR ASS ARRESTED!"
Because trying to save people isn't a crime? But Booth gave no answer out loud, no point throwing fuel on the fire after all, and instead finished shrugging on the black vest.
He snugged the vest to fit properly, re-closing the Velcro straps as Gregory continued at only slightly lower volume, "You had better hope to hell you were right with your little stunt. We caught the last part of it on the live feed from the channel 5 chopper on Fox News. God help you, Agent Booth, any innocent lives lost as a result of your insubordination are on your head!"
Don't I know it. Booth glanced at the sky and saw that there were five helicopters he could see at various altitudes – a couple from the local TV stations, DC PD, one that looked like it might be Bureau, and an Army Blackhawk in the distance Finished with the vest, he grabbed the hard shelled kneepads and put them on right over the trousers of his suit. There wasn't time to change.
His CYA disavowal now stated for the record, apparently Gregory wasn't too stupid after all to realize that what was done was done – for the moment at least. But he wasn't quite through with Booth yet…
"And just what the hell do you mean 'I'm going in'? You are to wait for the team. Better yet, you're sitting this one out. You've done enough damage already."
Booth straightened back up – he had to respond to this. Nicely. He gritted his teeth as he keyed the mike.
"Sir, request permission to infiltrate the Museum, flanking them via the Medico-Legal Lab. I'm familiar with the layout of the complex," which was mostly true, "and can recon from the inside while the main team is still pulling up blueprints and prepping. I think it's more important for someone to get inside and close quickly while the terrorists are still off balance." And take some more out if I get the chance…
Booth let go of the button, and reached into the locker for the tactical holster. The radio was silent for what seemed like an eternity. As he strapped the belt around his waist beneath the vest he asked himself if he really was prepared to go totally rogue if Gregory's head was too far up his ass…
"Agent Booth... Director Cullen has persuaded me to let you go in."
Booth imagined he could hear the enamel of the other man's teeth splintering. "Thank you, sir."
"But hear this… if you Rambo this and fuck it up but somehow manage to survive, I swear to God I'll shoot you myself!" The director took a breath. "Keep reporting. Gregory out."
Booth took a breath himself. Now to deliver. He had to move fast, but there was no room for mistakes.
He hooked the strap which held the bottom of the low slung holster to his thigh. Wyatt Earp would have instantly recognized the high tech gunslinger rig. He picked up the Sig-Sauer automatic, made sure the safety was engaged, and racked the slide to chamber the first round before dropping it into the holster and securing it with the elastic band attached for the purpose. The belt was already equipped with a holder for two mags, which he inserted.
Next he filled the ammo pouch for extra MP5 mags and hung that at his hip. Then he picked up the MP5 submachine gun itself. Holding it by the pistol grip with his right hand, he yanked back the cocking lever with his left, flipping it up at the end stop to hold the bolt open. He grabbed a loaded thirty round magazine and took a second to inspect it where the cartridges were exposed to satisfy himself none of the sheet metal tabs were bent, a major cause of misfeeds in the field. Ok… He made sure the fire selector switch was on 'Safe', inserted the mag, and slapped the spring-loaded cocking lever free with the heel of his left hand. The gun jerked as the bolt closed, chambering the first 10mm round. No fucking flash bangs… But there was nothing to be done about that.
Booth placed the shooting goggles around his neck, and put the radio in the special shoulder pocket designed into the fabric cover of the vest. He grabbed the black helmet, shut the locker, and stepped back to close the liftgate before running around to the driver side door and hopping in, tossing the helmet ahead of him on to the seat and being only a little more careful with the MP5.
As he inserted the key into the ignition he noticed that some more people appeared to be escaping out of the end of the right museum wing. First things first, he waved at the PD sniper still leaning across the hood, eye glued to his scope, as he cranked the big engine. The kid looked, waved back and stood clear.
Booth floored the accelerator, and the black SUV rocked as it came down off the curb and then roared down 14th Street to the other side of the Mall.
- - - - - - - -
Jeffersonian Institute Medico-Legal Lab
Booth slung the MP5 and donned the helmet as he got out of the SUV, and he secured the chin strap as ran to the Lab entrance. When he pushed through the pair of doors in the vestibule he was greeted by the inner steel security doors closed, blocking the corridor for the first time in his experience, at least from this side. He swiped his access card across the reader on the right wall but nothing happened. Full lockdown. Slightly annoyed by the delay, he was more pleased that at least someone was on the ball.
He banged on the metal doors with the butt of the collapsed stock of the MP5 but no one came. Impatient, he tried his cell again to call someone inside but service was still down. Shit. Just as he was about to use his radio to get someone at HQ to call the Lab on a landline the face of a guard appeared in the door's slit of security glass. The guard yelled through the wire mesh embedded in the glass, "ID!"
Booth fished it out, "Agent Seeley Booth, FBI. C'mon, you know me."
The other man nodded and briefly disappeared from view. The door opened to reveal the uptight white-shirted guard with a drawn Glock. "Man, are we glad to see you guys." As he holstered his weapon his face showed puzzlement when he realized that Booth was alone.
"Where's the rest of the cavalry?" he asked.
Booth answered, somewhat distracted as he saw Goodman, Hodgins, and Zach approaching, "They're coming any minute. I'm just point." He didn't see Temperance.
He turned back to the security guard, "What's your status? Where's your partner?" The Lab was never without two guards on duty.
"We got word a few minutes ago of an explosion in the museum, then a couple minutes later we lost contact with the office. Duncan went to check it out and help. Now we've heard that shots have been fired." The man looked almost ill at the thought.
Surely his partner leaving his post was against normal protocol, but today Booth was hardly the one to be a stickler for the rules.
Goodman and the others arrived, "Thank God you're here." The director gave Booth's attire the once over from top to bottom and his mouth tightened – he was smart enough to realize it meant things must be truly bad. "Just what is going on? Mr. Addy just informed me that reports on the Internet indicate the crisis is more than a suicide bombing."
At the mention of Bones' assistant Booth got his first good look at the other two men. Zach was pale and sweaty, and Hodgins' face was red and blotchy. Goodman himself… well the fine sheen of sweat on his dark skin betrayed the same thing – they all had the look of men who were scared and trying to hide it, but unaccustomed to needing to do so.
Booth looked past them into the lab with a sinking feeling in his stomach. He'd still seen neither Temperance nor Angela…
"It's not just a bombing. There were two suicide bombers followed by armed terrorists who entered the museum to take hostages. We think the IMAX was their target."
The three men looked like he'd struck them. Their fear was now more naked.
Goodman managed to speak first, "My God…" He swallowed, unable to continue.
Hodgins followed up with what Booth was just starting to dread, "Angela and Brennan are in the museum meeting a VIP…"
Zach finished, "… who was just getting out of a movie…" The assistant's voice trailed off.
Booth was stunned. It just couldn't get any worse. He looked up and closed his eyes briefly, Please, God… He'd never forgive himself if she was… hurt … because of him. But there was nothing to do but suck it up and soldier on – this was just one more reason for going in.
After a moment he opened his eyes again and looked at the other men. He was scared shitless now too, but he was able to school his features better and not show it. He'd just had a lot more practice. This was a time when 'sharing your feelings' was total bullshit. Fear was contagious – and controlling its outward manifestation helped control it on the inside too.
"I'm going to enter the museum through the back way…" He paused and pointed at the exit on the opposite side of the lab, also locked down, which led to the connecting corridor. "…and get into position and report while the full team prepares an assault."
His business-like demeanor seemed to buck up the other men even though it was a lie. Inside he was still in turmoil, guts churning.
Goodman seemed to recover the quickest. "Should we evacuate the Laboratory? Is it safe here?"
Booth thought about it briefly and replied, "No. Stay put, under lockdown. An army of cops and agents is going to be here any minute and frankly I'd rather you were here under cover than out in the open where you could get caught in a crossfire." There was no reason whatsoever for the terrorists to come back here whereas outside there was the prospect, however small, of a running gun battle.
Booth clapped both Hodgins and Zach on the back in reassurance. "Don't worry, I'll get 'em back." He prayed that it was a promise he would be able to keep. Jack nodded. The animosity between them Friday night was forgotten as Booth shouldered past them, but he was stopped by Goodman's hand on his arm.
"Agent Booth, you may find this useful." The director's other hand held out his own access card. "It should get you in anywhere you may need to go."
As Booth nodded and took the card, Goodman held out his right hand. He took it and shook it briefly. "Thanks." That was a potential problem he had not even thought of.
He turned and ran.
Goodman watched Booth run across the lab to the opposite side and then down the long connecting corridor until the closing security doors blocked him from view.
"Godspeed, Agent Booth," the director softly said to no one.
A/N
All reviews are appreciated. The followup will be up very shortly.