Disclaimer: I owned both shows, but they traded them in for some shoes. One show per shoe. But you have to understand, they are really cool shoes.
Chapter 15
Site 34 - Brooklyn
"And then I hit him with a rock."
Booth isn't really listening. After they got back to the apartment, and received a round of admonishments from the two women, Bones got down to business fixing them up as Castle recounted their morning.
Booth's injuries are mostly of the bruising variety, so Bones left him with some ice in a ziploc bag, but Castle's hand turned out to be surprisingly deeply cut. Booth had startled when Castle had opened his hand to show a cut that needed stitches. The man hadn't said a thing about it on either the walk or subway ride back to Brooklyn.
Booth shakes his head, despite his headache. Castle is a more interesting guy, once you got past the jokes, than Booth had originally guessed. He watches as Castle, backlit by the fading light in the window, gets sewn up by Bones, not seeming to notice the pain as he explains their fight in the alley.
Booth can't think. Something is sitting there, itching at the back of his head, and he can't place it. Something about Bones and Castle, backlit by the sun, so that they are just dark silhouettes in his vision. Bones is a tall woman, but now, as a backlit shadow, she looks tiny in comparison to Castle's larger frame. His lizardy hindbrain sees it before his conscious mind puts all the pieces together.
"He was pointing the gun at you," Booth says, cutting off whatever conversation is going on around him.
"I'm pretty sure he was pointing it at you, Booth," Castle replies.
"No, not today," Booth says to Castle. He turns slightly towards Bones. "Bones, Broadsky was aiming for you."
Bones looks at him in that way she has, her head cocked to the side.
"When he … got Vincent …" Booth says, sheepishly, not wanting to bring it up, but knowing it's necessary.
Bones shakes her head. "He shot Vincent because he answered your phone."
"He was expecting you," Booth says, and turns to Beckett. "Look at them. Even in this light, would you mistake the two?"
Beckett looks over at them. "No."
"And Broadsky's not going to confuse me and Vincent, even through an IR scope. But Bones and Vincent are … were … about the same size."
"But Booth, Broadsky is after you. He wants to show he's better than you."
"Yeah," Booth says, shaking his head in the negative, "I don't think I buy that. Snipers … we just don't think that way. But I think he wanted everyone to believe that."
"Collateral damage," Beckett says.
"Yeah," Booth replies.
"Wanna explain that?" Castle asks, flexing his sewn up hand.
"If Broadsky shoots and kills Brennan, everyone would wonder why. There'd be an investigation. But, if everyone thinks he's targeting Booth and then shoots Brennan instead, then it was just a mistake."
"Ah, how Hitchcockian. Eliminate the motive. That fits with what ugly, dumb, and bald was saying in the alley."
Booth nods as Bones asks, "They were looking for me?"
No one speaks for a minute or so, but both couples move to be closer to each other. Bones does little but lean her head against Booth's shoulder. Beckett paces in tight little circles behind Castle.
"Another piece of the puzzle," Beckett says, breaking the silence. "What about Armin?"
"Carcetti," Castle answers her. "The NYPD had evidence that Armin had started taking money from Carcetti to derail some police investigations. It looks like he was trying to stick some Westie murders on Pulgatti to confuse the investigation, get it kicked in court. But when he died, the NYPD hid it."
"Didn't want to tarnish the hero's legacy," Booth chimes in, "We're guessing Raglan and McAllister were there to kill Pulgatti and stop Armin, but when Armin got whacked..."
"Carcetti," Beckett says, sighing. "At least it's something, after this morning."
"What?" Castle asks.
"We found that Taffet and Bracken are connected," Bones says, "But it appears Bracken was lying about how."
"You still have a burner phone?" Beckett asks Booth. He nods and points to the duffel bag by the door. She grabs it out of the bag and nods thanks. "I'll be right back."
Bones tells the two men what she and Beckett had found while Beckett makes her call. Booth lets his mind wander again. If Bracken has fed them a line about Taffet, then pointing them at Armin could be a trick. Or it could be the truth; Bracken is enough of a politician to know how to mix the two, and obviously smarter than they've given him credit for. Just like with Broadsky, Booth feels like they're just reacting.
He wonders if Bracken wanted to get caught. All of a sudden, their little expedition to get the Senator seems like it was too easy.
Beckett comes out of the bedroom after about two minutes and greets everyone by throwing the burner phone across the room to break against the far wall. She takes two breaths with her hands on her hips before speaking.
"Where did you find the thing about Armin?" she asks.
Castle answers. "We had trouble at first. It had been sealed because he was undercover."
"Yeah," Beckett says, like she's expected the answer. "Undercover records, if part of an active investigation, are sealed for up to twenty years. My mother never could have seen them. It was a plant."
Booth nods, figuring as much, but doesn't say anything. Beckett continues. "I talked to Ryan. Carcetti doesn't exist."
"How does he know?" Castle asks.
"He says Carcetti's a snipe hunt, an old joke. Whenever a DA or a reporter or someone would come sniffing around gangs, thinking they could take down all of organized crime in ten seconds, the gang cops would point them at Carcetti. It was a way for them to signal each other that they were dealing with an idiot. Got to be such a legend, some ex-reporter guy down in Baltimore even worked the guy into a TV show."
"So they sent Bracken on a snipe hunt twenty years ago, only, unlike most people, he never caught on," Booth says, as Castle mumbles, "I knew I knew that name," to himself.
"Or he did, and now he's pointing us on the same wild goose chase," Beckett adds.
"Why?"
"Like you said before, Castle, to buy time. Either he knows Carcetti is a joke and so we spend a lot of time chasing nothing, or he doesn't and he thinks we'll go catch some real person that isn't him. I'm going to kill this guy twice."
Booth stands up, paces around. They've wasted an entire day to get five minutes worth of info. "I don't know about all of you," he says, "But I'm tired of being led around by the nose."
Bones goes to speak, seems to realize he's not talking literally, and closes her mouth.
"Every time we think we're in control, we find these guys playing us. We need a move here, people."
"We go after Bracken again," Castle says.
Both Booth and Beckett shake their head. "The first time was obviously too easy. He wanted it to happen. This time around, he's going to be locked up so tight even his grandmother will need Secret Service vetting before seeing him."
"Broadsky then."
"Broadsky'll have us sighted and shot before we get within a mile of him, and we don't have the first clue where he is."
"You could talk to your friend Angela," Beckett says. Booth stops his pacing and stares at Beckett for a second.
"Shit, you're right. I forgot we asked for her help."
Bones goes over to the laptop, fires up Skype once again. A few seconds later, Angela's pretty face fills the screen.
"Sweetie! I was getting worried..."
"I'm sorry, Angela. It has been a … frustrating … day."
"Well," Angela says, touching her control panel remote, "I'm not sure what I have to tell you guys is going to make the day any better, but it is big."
"Tell us," Booth says, over Bones shoulder. Angela looks from Bones to him, and then to Beckett and Castle. She seemingly decides not to ask about the strangers or to comment on Booth's rudeness.
"Anyway, finding the guys you were looking for proved to be worse than hay in a haystack, but I finally was able to take your advice and look at travel records. I assumed that even if the Army falsified your assignments, they'd still have to send you to wherever you needed to be, so I created a program that mapped every travel requisition that didn't match with a corresponding operational assignment. From there, I found all situations where more than one point converged."
The screen changes from Angela's face to a series of lines that look vaguely, to Booth, like the flight maps that you find in the back of an airline magazine, only more dense and more colorful. He gets the idea, and wants Angela to get on with it, but knows she's enough of an honorary squint that she won't be derailed from her explanations.
"Using that data, I was unable to find a match for all of the people you listed, Booth, so instead I tried to find all situations where there was any match amongst the people you mentioned. I found one match that had everyone except you and Leisenger. I tracked back the eighteen people that were listed at that event, and you won't believe what I found."
"What, Angela?" Bones asks.
"Lemme show you," Angela replies, and the map is replaced with a photograph of seventeen soldiers, standing in a mountainous area of mildly jungle-like climate. All four apartment dwellers react immediately, each pointing at parts of the screen.
"Bracken!"
"That's the Dulce River."
"Is that Lockwood?"
"And Coonan."
"Guys!" Angela says. "You're missing the point. Look at the one woman in the picture."
"Yes, Angela, we saw Taffet."
Angela waves her remote in exasperation. "Seriously!? I hunt forever for this and you already knew?"
"We just found out," Booth says, "just today. This is good. You did good. Where is this from?"
"Guatemala," says Bones, before Angela can answer.
"How do you know that?" Angela and Booth ask in unison.
"I recognize the Dulce River, near El Golfete. I have been there, several times."
"Yes," Angela says, "it's Guatemala. In July, 1997."
"What the hell are U.S. Special Forces doing in Guatemala? Aren't they an ally?"
"Now," Booth answers. "But Guatemala spent more than 50 years in civil war, and, unfortunately, we ... and by we I mean the CIA..." he shakes his head, unable to answer.
"We supported the de facto slaughter of hundreds of civilians," Bones says, before seeing Booth's face turn white. She cuts her narrative short.
"But …" she continues after touching Booth's hand, "that ended in 1996. U.S. involvement, outside of U.N. support, was nonexistent in 1997."
"Or should have been."
"Booth, who is that?" Bones asks, pointing at the screen. Her finger is over a small man, standing between Taffet and Bracken. To Taffet's other side stands Broadsky, with the rest of the men crouched in front of the four.
"Colonel Ramon Martinez. Head of The Program."
"Is that Broadsky?" Castle asks, pointing at Broadsky's picture. Booth nods.
"Well, we know about these three. Why not talk to the Colonel guy then?"
Booth shakes his head. "He's USSOCOM now. No way we'd get an opportunity to talk to him."
Castle asks, "What's uso comb?" just as Bones says, "No he isn't."
"Yes he is, Bones. He's one of the highest ranking men in the military, at least for a few more weeks."
"No he isn't, Booth," Bones says, just as Beckett asks, "A few more weeks?"
Booth answers Beckett first. "Word is, he'll be confirmed as Director of the CIA sometime in the next month. What do you mean that's not Martinez?"
Bones leans in closer to the screen. "I've met Martinez several times. He had oversight during my missions to identify the remains found at several mass grave sites. I last saw him about five months ago. This is not him."
"Bones, I served with the man for years. That's Martinez."
"No. Angela, can you pull up a recent picture of General Martinez?"
"Yeah, Sweetie. Just a sec."
Angela zooms the photo to frame Martinez, then shows his official General's portrait alongside it on screen. To four of the people, they look like a younger and older version of the same man. But one of them sees the differences.
Bones stands up, leans closer to the screen. "Look at the ratio of the height to the width of the occipital cavity, as well as the cresting of the supraorbital foramen. There is also a slightly pronounced curvature of the aveolar process in the younger man. These are two different people."
"You can't tell that," Beckett says. "Besides, that's not a great picture, and people change."
Angela, Booth, and surprisingly Castle all speak up, "No..."
They stop. Booth looks at the others and continues. "If Bones says they're different people, they're different people. Only question is, which one is really Martinez?"
"And who is the other one?" Castle finishes. "Doppelgangers! This is so cool!"
"Booth," Bones says after a second. "I know why they're after me. I know what's going on."
A/N: I know it's mean to leave it there. But the next useful breakpoint was about 2500 words away, and I didn't want to post a 5000+ work chapter...