Thanks so much to all of you who took the time to review my first chapter. I'm very pleased that you like it. I would very much appreciate if you could keep reviewing my story…it motivates me to keep writing!

Chapter 2

Booth felt his pulse rate skyrocket as the forklift rumbled to life and the crate was lifted high in the air. Trying to control his panicked breathing, he fought to balance upright in a kneeling position that would allow him to peek through one of the narrow air holes near the roof of the crate. The forklift was shuttling him towards a large jet parked on the other side of the tarmac. He could see bustling activity around it as numerous workers were in the process of loading the cargo hold. He kicked hard against the side of the crate, trying to yell through the gag, rewarded only by a series of unintelligible grunting noises. Damn it… The forklift continued its approach, and an airport employee, oblivious to what was really imprisoned inside the large crate, motioned it forward onto the conveyor belt beside the plane. Booth screamed louder, kicking the metal sides of the crate with his bare feet, ignoring the pain as the leg irons bit into his ankles, hoping one of the workers would hear. He managed another look through one of the small slits and realized to his dismay that all the men surrounding the plane were wearing hearing protection, similar to the earmuffs he wore at the firearms range. There was no way any of them would hear anything over the din of the equipment.

The crate was transferred from the forklift to the conveyor belt and Booth felt it start to move slowly into the belly of the airplane. The din of the airport quieted somewhat as the crate entered the cargo hold and Booth resumed kicking the box desperately, grunting as loudly as he could manage with the damned gag tied uncomfortably through his mouth. One of the workers inside the plane signalled for his companion to stop the conveyor, noticing the thumps coming from the large crate. "Jeezuz, Eddy", Booth heard him yell. "I sure as hell hope that crate holds…whatever's in there really wants out!" Booth doubled his efforts, praying that the guy would realize that there was a man, not an animal, imprisoned in this box.

He heard a chain rattle as Eddy answered his partner. "I'm going to attach this chain tight around that crate Phil…just in case the thing inside manages to kick the door out." Booth yelled again in frustration, the noise coming out as a muffled shriek. No…no…come on guys, think about it….you've gotta help me…please…

The two airport employees fixed the chain around the crate, avoiding the small air holes, mindful of the warning about wild animals. The grunts and growls coming from the crate were frightening. "Jeezuz", Phil repeated. "Whatever it is, it must be pretty big." Eddy just nodded grimly and secured the crate into the pressurized cargo hold. He was going to be very relieved when this bird left his airport. He imagined the carnage of some wild animal, a lion maybe, running loose around the grounds. Booth watched in dismay as the two men finished loading the rest of the cargo and quickly exited the hold. He stopped kicking and felt the bile rise in his throat as the big cargo door was sealed tight and he heard the huge jet engines hum to life. Shit…

Shivering now, more from fear than from the cold, Booth was powerless to do anything at all as he felt the jet begin moving. He tried, without success, to slow his breathing, to get control over the hammering in his chest. By the time the jet was thundering down the runway, the FBI agent was curled into the corner of the crate, his knees drawn up to his chest and his eyes closed tight as he felt the large plane power its way off the ground. What the hell was going on …?

An image of Bones smiling flashed unexpectedly across Booth's mind. He clung to the thought desperately, trying to focus on her eyes…she was his partner…she would get help…they would figure this out…

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Brennan, Angela, Hodgins, Zach, Cam and Lenny hurriedly stepped out of the hangar onto the tarmac of the airport. The running lights of the large jumbo jet onto which the crate containing FBI agent Seeley Booth had been loaded disappeared into the clouds of the night sky as they gazed at it apprehensively. The truck in which they had arrived was no where to be seen; obviously the small man and his thugs had taken it. "Darn it all", Brennan groaned. "Any evidence we might have found in the truck is gone with them. Who could possibly want Booth so badly that they went to all that trouble to take him?"

Hodgins looked grim. His first thought was that Booth was probably grabbed by their own government, but, on reflection, he figured that was just his paranoia rearing its ugly head. US officials would not have bothered with the crate and the airplane. They would just have mocked up some reason to arrest the FBI agent and spirited him off to some secret holding facility, of which Hodgins was sure there were many. "Maybe he's been working on a secret case we don't know about", he said. "Maybe someone wants to know what he's found out."

Brennan's eyes flashed angrily. "He's my partner, he would have told me", she shot back. "How many times do I have to tell you not to make assumptions? We need to look at the facts…just the facts."

"Sweetie", Angela tried to sound soothing. "You asked what we thought; it's not going to help if you jump down our throats."

Brennan's look softened apologetically. Shaking her head, she said, "Sorry, Ange…you're right. I'm just…I don't know…pissed off, I guess…and worried about Booth…" She couldn't stop seeing in her mind's eye the terrified look on Booth's face as the crate was closed. She could only imagine the fear and confusion he was feeling locked in the cargo hold of that jet as it headed for some unknown destination. Brennan took a deep breath, stood fully upright and squared her shoulders. "Let's go back to the lab; we need to run an analysis on our clothing to see if there is any trace evidence that might help us figure out where those guys came from, who they are. I'll call the FBI and tell them what happened, ask them to send a team to go over every inch of this hangar and the pub…maybe they can find something to identify who took him." They all nodded and headed towards the lights of the airport's main building.

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At the Jeffersonian, Brennan seized all the clothing they were wearing, even from the protesting bartender, Lenny. Unhappily dressed in stiff white coveralls that seemed to be made of some kind of space-age paper, Lenny didn't hesitate to take off as soon as the opportunity presented itself, leaving Cam, Brennan and the team, all similarly attired, to start trying to piece together the evening's events. As soon as he received the call from Brennan, Booth's FBI boss, Sam Cullen, had demanded the jet's flight plan from the FAA and was now pacing angrily back and forth in the lab, waiting impatiently for a call advising where the plane carrying his agent was headed.

"I'll need a much better description of the men who took Booth", he growled. "The small man, especially. Surely to God you squints observed more than 'two big guys, one regular sized guy and one small guy, all wearing dark overcoats and carrying guns'?" He grimaced. "That's got to be about the vaguest description I've ever heard!"

Cam started to say something to defend her employees when Angela interrupted, her voice uncharacteristically belligerent. "Agent Cullen…you're not helping the situation by yelling at us…we all want to find Booth!" He looked as if he would retort but was silenced by the sketch pad Angela thrust into his hands. "That is the small man…the one who was in charge." Cullen took the drawing in surprise as she continued. "That's your suspect…I don't think I quite captured the meanness in his eyes but, aside from that, I assure you, it's an accurate likeness." She was furious.

Cullen examined the drawing carefully, recognition dawning in his widened eyes. "This is the guy who took Booth?" he asked, his voice suddenly quieter. He looked grim.

The sudden change in the FBI supervisor's demeanour frightened each of the scientists gathered around him. Hodgins was the first to find his voice. "You know who he is, don't you?" he asked.

Cullen nodded, his eyes never leaving the drawing. "This man is wanted by Interpol; a worldwide fugitive….he's a specialist, a professional who can get you whatever you want, whenever you want it…works mostly out of South and Central America although we've heard he has been doing a lot of work in the States lately." Brennan and Angela looked at each other, fear on their faces as Cullen continued. "I am afraid that the only people I know who would hire him and who could afford his services are very, very dangerous …"

Cullen reached for his cell phone which was vibrating insistently on his belt. He continued to stare at the face of the man who had taken Booth as he spoke on the phone. "No flight plan was filed….how is that possible?" He scowled. "No, I can't say I'm surprised…okay, tell me, who owns that plane?" His eyes widened even more as he listened to the response. He cut the call off by flipping his cell phone shut. Looking up, he saw the eyes of each person in the room gazing at him. "We've got a lot of work to do…" he said. "This whole thing just got a lot more complicated…that jet was chartered by a company…a dummy corporation that's known to launder money for a man named Xavier de Jesus Ortez."

Brennan, who had been staring at the picture, looked up quickly. "I know a Roberto Ortez…" she said. "He's the leader of the Mara-Muerte Street Gang here in DC. Remember that case involving the illegal immigrants from El Salvador…Jose Vargas and his family? Two bodies had been exhumed from a community garden and one was found buried beside the Senator's pond." She saw her team nodding around her. "Booth and I interviewed Ortez regarding that case…he was a narcissistic chauvinist egomaniac…"

Angela's eyes widened with recognition. "Oh, no…Sweetie….that's not the guy you beat up, is it?"

Cullen interrupted. "You beat up the leader of a street gang?" He looked at Brennan disbelievingly. "What are you Lady…nuts? And where in the Hell was Booth when this happened?"

Brennan started to explain the situation when Cullen shook his head and held up his hand. "Wait, wait…it doesn't matter right now…we don't have time for this." He looked around the group, trying to decide what he should tell them. Finally, he sighed…hell, maybe the squints would be able to help him figure out where his agent had been taken if he told them the facts. His voice quiet, he sat heavily on a lab stool and started to speak. "Xavier de Jesus Ortez has been a target of the FBI for some time now. Originally from El Salvador, Ortez currently runs a large drug smuggling operation out of Miami with close links to the Colombian cartels." He looked at Brennan. "Roberto Ortez is Xavier's younger brother, the black sheep of the family. Xavier kicked Roberto out of the business as a result of the younger brother's reckless behaviour. Roberto came to DC and eventually became involved heavily with the Mara-Muerte Gang. The brothers have been estranged for years."

"Fascinating story", Cam interjected. "But what's this all got to do with Booth?"

Cullen shook his head. "Three weeks ago, a large take-down was performed by the FBI with the assistance of numerous other agencies in Miami against the Ortez organization. Arrests of Xavier and some of the other ringleaders were made based on the testimony of one crucial witness, a person who had been part of the Ortez group and was turned to provide State's evidence. That person is currently under witness protection pending his appearance before the Grand Jury, in two weeks time." He took a deep breath. "Recently, we also determined that Roberto returned to Miami after his brother's arrest and is actively involved once again in his brother's business. He has been to visit Xavier on at least three occasions at the holding facility."

"Still fascinating", Cam sounded frustrated. "But again, I have to ask, what does this have to do with Booth?"

Cullen's face was grim. "Booth is the one who recruited the witness and made all the arrangements for his protection until the Grand Jury convenes." They gazed at him, looking confused. "Remember the so-called 'vacation' Booth took recently to Florida?" No one said a word but they each nodded with new understanding. Brennan scowled, apparently her partner didn't share everything with her...why did that make her angry? The senior FBI agent paused, then, deciding that it was best to tell them everything, continued. "I am told, also, that Roberto Ortez has declared some sort of vendetta against Agent Booth, based on something that happened after your dealings with him here in DC on the Vargas case." Brennan looked up, surprised, but said nothing as Cullen continued his monologue. "It sounds to me like Roberto is using the arrest of his brother as an excuse to go after Booth; he must have known that we would move the witness as soon as Booth was abducted, yet he somehow managed to convince his brother's organization to finance the abduction."

"I don't understand," Brennan said. "Roberto Ortez would have reason to go after me, not Booth… I'm the one who beat him up…" Angela winced.

Cullen was silent for a moment, wondering whether he should tell her the rest of it. What the Hell...he had come this far. He continued, "After the Vargas case was closed, one of the agents assigned to the Street Gang Unit warned Booth that the Mara-Muerte Gang had put out a hit…on you, Dr. Brennan." Brennan looked startled and Angela felt like she might faint. "I don't have all the details but it seems that the hit was cancelled after Booth paid a visit to Roberto Ortez…alone."

"Oh my God…" Brennan sagged against the lab bench. "Booth must have threatened him, somehow…to protect me…"

"Well, whatever was said, since that plane is owned by one of Ortez' companies, it seems likely that Roberto Ortez has taken Booth. The question now is, where?" Cullen glanced at the miserable faces of the scientists assembled before him. No one had an answer.