AN: Once again "Bones" is not my property. Hopefully I can keep churning out chapters quickly in the near future before work decides to rear its ugly head. Please enjoy and if you want to, review. I apologize for the shortness of this chapter but I can assure you that the next one will make up for it.
Harsh light from a harsh sun reflects off the rocks. Weather and terrain are the most common complaints that soldiers have but at the moment those concerns about rocks and rain are secondary. Sharp cracks and bellowed wordless screams fill the air; some screams are commands, some are wordless expressions of violence, some are of pain. At the moment yours are of the first category with a desperate desire to not change to the third.
"3 O'clock we got Haji up the ridge line!" The ping of metal striking rock sounds like the end of the world. You can even perceive the wake of the bullets as they scream past your face; the boiling water vapor that follows them whooshes past your face.
"RPG at 10 O'clock!" Flash smoke Boom! They call those anti-tank weapons but they seem to work just fine on dog soldiers. Suddenly the weight of your IBA disappears and it feels as if you're naked.
"They got a .50 at our 6!" It sounds like someone is ripping cloth next to your ear magnified a bazillion times. The Ma Deuce is an oldy but a goody; except when you're at the wrong end of the barrel. Your stomach curdles as you see one of your buddies get split in two as a burst catches him in the open.
Chung is behind a rock calling in on the radio, in sickening slow motion you see the scene play before your eyes. A flash of smoke, "Victor one six this-" a dark shape with a contrail "-contact at-" it gets closer "taking cas-" closer "request immediate-" closer "Vicinity grid-" hit. It didn't go off but it still hit him. The rocket is sticking out of him; skewered him like a goddamn shish kabob. Chung's down you have to get to him; he might still be alive. Your men are dying you have to get to them. You-
"Rise and shine Agent Booth"
Who is that? Who the hell is saying that?! You have to save them you have to save your buddies!
"Hmmm how rude. I'm being quite perfectly polite and yet you feel as if I'm not worth your notice?!"
A sharp pain. What? Are you hit? No you don't get hit. You don't get shot. How do you know this? You've been here before, you know what happens. What how? Are you dreaming?
Eyes fly open just in time to catch a glimpse of what appears to be a size 14 men's regular shoe careening at a high rate of motion towards your-
"Ah I see I have your attention now Agent Booth."
You're too busy grasping yourself and coughing to make a response. Tears of agony stream down your face washing dirt into your mouth. That was a, literally, low blow and totally uncalled for. Suddenly you miss the tasering from the last time someone wanted to wake you up.
"Now that you have risen from your fitful throes of slumber would you please grace me with your company for some time, we have a lot to talk about." Smug smarmy bastard; has to have at least one doctorate because nobody normal would talk like that. Wait talk? Maybe this means that you can get an idea of who's doing this to you or why you're here.
"Who are you?" Wow did your voice really sound that high? Your voice hasn't been that high pitched since grade school. Compared to you Parker sounds like a gruff 60 year old.
"Now now this isn't the proper place to hold a verbal discussion so will you please follow me and we shall find somewhere else to discuss matters. Oh and while such a thing might be couched as a request it certainly is not. Also while there might not be any rather large ruffians around now to haul you around please don't try anything foolish because it will not bode well for either of us as you'll end up dead and I'd have to pay to have this jacket cleaned of your blood. Are we clear?"
You nod your head as you stagger to your feet. It's a pleasure to be standing up without being roughed up by some hired goons. The man looks like a squint, about five inches shorter than you with a slight build and bifocals over light blue eyes; rather thin lips and balding, light brown hair fading to grey. You guess that he's in his fifties; his rather drab and ill-fitting brown suit and rumpled shirt make him about as intimidating as a baby bird. On closer examination you notice a rather large bulge in his suit jacket which looks like a probable place to conceal a pistol. If you were not recovering from a nasty kick to the balls you'd entertain the idea of rushing him to take his pistol and trying to escape but at the moment your tender sensibilities are telling you that sudden movement is likely to hurt more than you'd like. Plus you're curious.
He's utterly silent as you follow him down the corridor, your bare feet making nary a sound as you stagger down the stone floor and his shoes making a clapping sound as he walks several paces ahead of you never even looking back to check if you're behind him. Then again where'd you go? It's a straight shot down the corridor and you have no idea about the layout of the place. Wait why did he stop? Oh there's a side corridor off to the left. Wordlessly he walks down that new path expecting you to follow. You think about making a run for it but you tell yourself that there's no guarantee that the exit is down that way. Numbly you follow.
"Now if you please Agent Booth, will you come in here and take a seat we'll get started." The path leads to a single door, now open, with a wooden table and two chairs facing each other in it. He walks inside and takes his seat waiting patiently for you to join him. You walk in and feel quite unnerved at this whole set up. Pain you can understand but this is something else. You notice that there's a cooler behind the door and some bags. You have no idea what might be in those containers but your stomach rumbles at the possibility that there might be food or water in them.
"You must be thirsty being stuck in that wretched abode for so long, and famished too. Here let me offer you refreshments before we discuss the matter at hand. There is nothing that says that this cannot be pleasant or polite." He puts some bottled water and an apple on the table and pushes them over to where you're sitting. Despite yourself you feel the pangs of hunger and thirst but you force those urges down; you've a lot of practice forcing your more primal urges down so that's not a difficult task to accomplish.
"Who are you?" You croak out through dry lips. That's a logical question and it's the first step in understanding what's going on and hopefully it will provide you enough distraction to keep from pouncing on the apple and water in front of you.
"Ah well now we're getting somewhere." This guy annoyingly reminds you of Sweets
"Well as you may imagine telling you my birth name can potentially lead to putting me in a compromising position if for some reason you manage to ascertain a method of escape from here but for politeness' sake you can call me Tim."
"Tim eh? Well given that you already know who I am I suppose that you're going to be the one who will be doing most of the talking here." Tim? This sort of reminds you of that Monty Python movie.
"Oh of course Agent Booth after all I have a job here in discussing things with you. First I have been instructed to tell you the reason why you're here." Wow that was easy, you didn't even have to ferret it out of him.
"As you may know you and your partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan, are quite accomplished at what you do and you can therefore understand how that accomplishment can perturb certain members of certain groups. Lately there have been rumblings of a certain nature which can be interpreted as extreme agitation with the success of you and your partner and there was a request made to neutralize your inquiries into certain lines of investigation. Therefore the organization I work for has undertaken the necessary means to neutralize you and Dr. Brennan." Tim states this as calmly as ordering a cup of coffee.
"What do you mean?" Your face uncontrollably turns to a look of dread but not for your sake but for Bones' sake as you stare at Tim across from you, he's smiling at this whole exchange. The possibilities reel in your head. Does that mean that Bones' is also stuck in some sort of prison being tortured too? Does that mean that she's dead? Oh God you need to get out of here to warn her, to protect her.
"Oh don't worry so we are not so uncouth as to simply kill you and your partner, at least not yet. There are certain things that we need Dr. Brennan to do before we could contemplate eliminating her outright as there are certain cases before her which need to be… interpreted in a certain light. I hope you know what I mean."
"So why am I here? Am I some sort of bargaining chip that you're going to use to force her to falsify evidence?" Your voice starts to rise as you ponder the meaning of the whole situation. You were kidnapped to act as leverage to influence Temperance to falsify evidence to protect a criminal organization? This whole thing sounds so ridiculous but…
"Ah, you Agent Booth are here because we believe that there is no better way to control the actions of someone then to use their loved ones against them. Please before you protest, and yes I know that you were going to deny that you are anything but partners; however, your confinement here has already borne fruit. I must admit that I was surprised at first when she lost her stoic composure when we showed her pictures of you being tortured but what really belies any of your feeble protestations was how she reacted to seeing you in your cell crying, weeping, curled up like a baby. Oh my, she just about lost it; couldn't look at the pictures for more than a few seconds. She had to be escorted out of the room by Ms. Montenegro because she was totally beside herself and could sadly be of no more help in this investigation." Tim smiles at you in a knowing manner. He's almost leering when he recounts how Bone's "lost it."
No that would never happen this has to be some sort of ploy to torment you. Bones' wouldn't "lose it" for you right? I mean she did kind of lose it when Keton nearly killed her but that was an understandable near-death situation. Angela kept hinting at how Bones' was more than just concerned for you when you were taken captive by Gallagher but you didn't believe her. You and Temperance might be fond of each other and would react in certain ways because you and she were close partners but to insinuate that… a small part of you rejoices at this news but the rest of you refuses to contemplate it. Wait…
"What the hell do you mean when you showed her?" Oh God they can get to her? Does she know that she's in danger?
"Oh yes, she and I spoke face to face. Oh don't worry so Agent Booth. I assured her that we were doing everything that we could to find you and that we'd apprehend whomever kidnapped you and is torturing you in such a horrific manner. After all we were discussing your case in the Hoover building---"
"Wait how did you…" The words die in your mouth as you start to utter them. You realize the implications of his words and a sickening fear creeps into your eyes as you realize that there is no protecting Bones from these people. You also realize that now you can't escape without endangering her too; if she can't be influenced then they'll just eliminate her. Despair falls heavily on your shoulders. Then a realization strikes you.
"Hold on why would she falsify evidence if she thinks that you're FBI? There would be no way to get her to do that anyway even to save me." You don't want to think that you're not as important to Temperance as the facts are but it's probably true; she believes in the system.
"Oh I never said that she would be falsifying any information, all I said was that there were certain cases that required to be 'interpreted in a certain light.' This whole situation is more to get her to 'focus' on certain very pressing matters namely your disappearance and well-being rather than on cases that would normally fall under her purview; since in light of the circumstances she cannot focus her attention on these other cases…" He shrugs his shoulders and grins at you "well these other matters will just be shunted to other forensic teams for the sake of expediency and concern for the good Doctor during a time of hardship for her. And trust me when I tell you that we correctly predicted which images would have the most effect on influencing her attention." He's laughing now. That fucker is laughing about how much Bones' is suffering because of you. Bastard is using you to hurt Bones.
You don't know what comes over you. Suddenly the only thing that you can focus on is hurting the bastard that caused Bones pain. There is something to be said about rage; adrenaline pumps through your veins and the pain disappears as your vision tunnels focusing on his sickening self-assured smile. You notice that he stops smiling as you fling yourself over the table knocking over the water bottle as you reach for his throat. You dimly note that his hand dives under his coat reaching for what you think is a weapon. Too late for him as you slam your body into his knocking him back in his chair. Time for some old school combatives you crooked FBI sonofabitch!
You're in the dominant mount straddling his chest and stomach, your knees jammed up into his armpits preventing him from getting any leverage to defend himself. Good he looks stunned and frightened. Left hook to the jaw and out pops a tooth. Hope that hurts you sick fuck. Right hand darts across his throat and grabs his collar; lean down and push your forearm into his throat. Yeah that's right you bastard. He tries to struggle but you push all your weight down on him feeling the windpipe crunch under your onslaught. His eyes are bulging staring at you as he feebly tries to hit you. Some distant part of you screams that you have to stop this or else he's going to die. That part is shouted out by your pounding heart; "He hurt Bones, he caused her to cry!" Images of Temperance crying, visions of her face showing sorrow; more fuel that your body is burning to overcome the pain and fatigue that encompasses it. Far away you hear a "crack" and suddenly your vision clears; painful images fade away as you gaze upon your handy work.
You don't even bother checking for a pulse, the way that his neck is bent there is no way that he's still alive. You try to avoid his eyes which are starring out into nothingness seeing everything and nothing. You hate it when you kill even when you have to. Who was he really? Did he have a family? Where there people who loved him unconditionally out there who will miss him now? You can't let such questions affect you now there's too much at stake here. You have to get out of here and warn Bones. You stash away your misgivings for killing with a simple phrase: "That bastard caused Bones pain."
Well hello what have we here? Looks like he had a weapon on him after all; hell you even recognize what type it is. 9mm Para Browning, you knew an Iraqi cop back in the Sandbox who absolutely raved about it, it was all that he'd use day in and day out. Nice, solid and with enough power to get the job done. You keep checking Tim and come out with a spare mag and a wallet with ID and some cash. Instinctively you check over the weapon and ammo; only 28 rounds and the weapon looks to be well maintained.
Well Tim you snarky little crooked FBI Agent it doesn't look like you're going to need those clothes anymore and quite frankly you could do with not being quite so naked, plus where else are you going to store your spare ammo? Two minutes later and here's Special Agent Seeley Booth. Clad in ill-fitting clothes from a dead man, bare foot because his shoes don't fit, face covered in dirt, hair askew, and bruises and cracked bones aplenty. You have one slightly used pistol, one spare mag and a wallet with… $42 and someone else's driver's license. Heh, 42. You recall that Zach told you that the answer to the meaning of life was "42" he said he read it somewhere. Hopefully that's a good omen. You sadly recall that he went on to say that it was completely illogical and explained it until your eyes glazed over. You remember that someone told you that "with life comes death." And wouldn't you know it you hear raised voices and the sound of boots running towards the door. It seems like as soon as you find the answer to the meaning of life, death wants to challenge the conclusions. Well Seeley old man it looks like you're stuck in the middle of nowhere surrounded by people who want to torture and kill you and yet the only thing you can think about is a beautiful face marred by tears.
"Well some things stay the same even when you change jobs." You ruefully mutter as an old cadence runs in your mind…