AN: Here it is, the greatly anticipated epic-mega-grand kahuna-chapter to end all chapters (yes I have been drinking [just a little bit I swear] and have a bit of a sugar rush so cut me a break)! Let the one liners flow like wine and the schadenfreude encompass as an egg shell the gooey yellow egg center of unadulterated and explicit violence. As this is definitely starting to drift out of the normal vision of canon "Bones" it's a good thing I suppose that I don't own said show. But sit back and enjoy my faithful readers and remember reviews are like fire; they make everything better.
You don't even notice the pink mist from your first shot. Even though it's been an age since you've last gotten a kill on your most beautiful and deadly rifle you still don't want to see the visual marks: the arterial spray, the shredded brain matter, and the powdered cranial bone. It sickens you deep inside that you once got a rush seeing the bullet impact; seeing the target simply die before your eyes without ever knowing who sent his soul screaming through the gates of Hell.
But it sickens you even more that you no longer notice.
Breathe, work the bolt. Another round slides effortlessly into the chamber.
You see them running around the clearing; directionless and frightened.
You can smell the fear.
God help you but it tastes good on your tongue. These bastards cause pain. They caused you pain. They caused Bones pain. They could be causing Bones pain right this second. They could be…
A growl escapes your lips as you bring the rifle to bear on a target running for the truck.
His coat has a discolored stain on the back of it. Good. Something to aim for.
People who've never shot before don't know how a marksman aims; he aims for the smallest target possible. A little red dot on a distant target, a discolored mole, a hair, an eye. Aim small, miss small.
Your sights align perfectly with the small mark; it's a coffee stain.
You exhale slowly. There's the briefest moment between breaths when your body is perfectly still.
Squeeze.
The crack of the rifle is punctuated by the screams of that damned man. You briefly register how the bullet punches through his lower back; a conical wake from the exit wound of blood and fragments of organs. He falls down screaming desperately trying to keep his insides from falling out of his now open and ruptured abdomen. You can make out the blood and fluids mixing with the dirt and debris on the ground.
Good.
You hope he dies slowly as gut wounds tend to do. Let his stomach acid burn and destroy his insides as he slowly bleeds out.
A second passes as you work the bolt and find another target. This kid looks barely old enough to shave but he's one of them. He's one of the people who've hurt Bones.
Your bullet catches him right under the ribcage on his left side. He was running towards the guard's barracks. You saw the bullet exit from his clavicle; the bullet ricocheted around inside his body pulping organs, ripping arteries, and cracking bone. His death will be fast but no less painful.
Mechanically you keep working the bolt, finding a target, and ending their life. The screams of pain and agony are music to your ears as your mind sings out snippets of the most horrifying song you know:
Shots a ring
Are you listening?
In the lane
The blood's glistening
A beautiful site
We're happy tonight
Walking in a sniper's wonderland
When we shoot
It's thrilling
Through our sites they get a chilling
Lock and load another round
Watch the bastard hit the ground
Walking in a sniper's wonderland.
You pause only to load another magazine. And your work begins anew. You count five bodies in the clearing and one more target. Two ran off into the underground tunnels that you knew so well and the other made it inside the guard's barracks.
The last one is a sneaky bastard, hiding behind a fallen tree. He thinks that he's safe behind its thickness.
Only he's not counting on you being even sneakier.
You make a SWAG as to where his head is. As you squeeze the trigger you make a silent prayer hoping that your Stupid Wild Ass Guess was correct.
The splintering wood sends fragments flying in the air. Before the pieces of bark even hit the ground another round is on the way following in the exact footsteps of its brother.
You can see the log cracking. That's the problem with fallen trees; the wood is usually rotten and weak. However that's not the case here, the wood is still strong. However if you try to underscore that fear into the rat bastard hiding behind said log… A predatory grin comes across your face as your target gets up to make a sprint to the barracks.
Your next shot catches him just under the armpit.
He falls down scrabbling against the ground. You can see the blood bubbling up and flowing out of his mouth; the desperation in his eyes, pleading. He's drowning in his own blood right before your eyes. The frothy red liquid pouring out stains his white teeth and mingles with his unkempt beard; matted hair clinging to his cheeks and neck. His body involuntarily writhes on the ground desperately trying to cope with the unimaginable pain. A bubble of blood pops out of his mouth from the stream coming forth from his nostrils coating his lips in crimson.
Do you put him out of his misery?
Fuck his misery.
You slowly pick yourself up and reload your rifle; pausing only to kiss the name carved into the stock. You smell the harsh stench of carbon and gunpowder.
You make your way through the wood line, picking your path carefully to keep trees between you and the camp until you can see the entrance. Good they haven't locked it up. The timbers of the gate creak in the wind mixing in with the sobs and moans of dying men.
You glance over to Max where he's tied up to the pole. He's desperately looking about to see what's going on; tied up and bloody but he's safe for now. You can free him later after you've hunted down the guy in the barracks.
Silently you pick your way across the clearing keeping what little cover there is between you and the building.
Is there a window? Most excellent there is.
You creep over avoiding the door. Whoever is inside will be covering the door. Glance up and into the window and what do you see? One fat little fuck who looks like he's about to pee himself holding what looks to be a cudgel of the broken table leg variety. Well you know that he's going to die but how are you going to kill him? Do you shoot him through the window?
No that would be too simple, besides why waste ammo?
You lay down your rifle reverently down on the ground near the door and draw your bayonet. The cold steel glints hungrily in the pale sun. Silently you place yourself just outside the door; the stench overwhelms you, he went and shit himself if the trail of brown sludge on the ground and the smell is of any indication.
You burst through the door going low down to the ground. You predicted well as his wild swing sends the club sailing harmlessly over you. What you didn't count on though was the fact that you ended up stepping in and slipping on the evidence of his cowardice. You stumble just long enough for him to regain his balance as you spin around to face him.
He's a stout man, a heavy set and bearded fellow wearing faded clothes and heavy boots. A wild and frenzied look of panic on his face gives you pause; there are two enemies to be most feared in the world: the utterly feral and the utterly intelligent. While the intelligent are more deadly the feral are no less of a hassle and this fellow here is definitely showing his animal side because after all there is nothing more dangerous than a cornered beast.
With a garbled yell he lunges at you with a wild hay-maker of a swing; you duck low to avoid the attack and effortlessly thrust sliding the blade to the hilt into his chest into his third intercostals space. You never would have imagined using bone-speak when describing how you're killing a man but there's a first time for everything.
Only problem is that your blow doesn't kill him instantly. Well if at first you don't succeed then try, try again.
Ouch those are stars.
You find yourself sprawled in an un-appealing manner from the heavy wood of his club kissing your back causing your head to slam painfully into the wooden floor.
You didn't take it into account that this was a rather large and well furnished room when you first glanced through the dirty window. Rows of bunks, a furnace, even a nice kitchen and bathroom ensemble off down the way. A rather cozy cabin you admit other than the fact that the current occupant is trying his damndest to bash your skull in- Woah that was a close one, he damn near cracked the floor with that blow.
You spring up to your feet knife in hand. He's already bleeding badly but his adrenaline and fear have pumped him up like a gang-banger on PCP. Wildly he lunges at you again but this time you're ready. Up close you pin his arm up with your left hand and with your right you thrust your knife into his belly. Without a change in your expressing you disembowel him moving your knife along his abdomen from one side of his hip to the other. You step back just in time to keep his guts from spilling out onto your pants and shoes. Damn the stains in the floor will take forever to be removed after this. Maybe you should leave the cleaners a note of apology?
You stand there as he falls to his knees with such force as to surely fracture his patella; see Bones you do pay attention! Unintelligible words stream from his mouth much like organs from his gut as he desperately tries to push his intestines back inside his body. Black bile mixes with red blood. His eyes wide in agony as he just stares at you; Angel of Death.
His eyes trouble you with their accusations.
Are you really as ruthless and callous as to let him slowly die in front of you?
"Behold I am the bringer of Death, the destroyer of Worlds." A little line from your scholar days; it brings a bit of poetry and dignity to this whole wretched affair. You feel satisfaction as he flinches away in fear.
A brief glance over the barracks: unkempt beds, footlockers of clothes, dirty floors, and an even dirtier bathroom. Nothing of import here; calmly you step over his writhing body and shut the door behind you.
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"They were following us; after you left they found us. I did everything I could to keep her safe. Bum-rushed them so that she could have a chance to run. God I hope that she's ok, I'll never forgive myself if anything happens to her."
You cut Max down from the pole and got him propped up against the truck so that the vehicle is between him and the cave entrance. You've been keeping an eye on it to make sure that they're not trying to escape from there.
You notice that the other prisoners are whimpering in their cells; all they heard were the shots, the shouts, and the groans of dying men. They've no idea what has transpired here and the ignorance is gnawing at them. Soon you whisper, soon they'll be free.
"Max you're going to take this truck and drive out of here to get help. Bring cops, bring ambulances, bring everything. Do what you have to, to get them over here to get those prisoners over there out safely and so that we can let everyone know about what sort of operation is going on here."
The urgency in your voice gets through to him, but then again he's in no shape to come with you to clear out the remnants and he knows it.
"Ok Booth but on one condition: find my daughter and keep her safe."
"Already planning on doing that."
"That's my boy."
He gets into the cab of the truck and starts her up, as he starts to move out so do you. Only instead of leaving you're moving deeper into the camp.
You position yourself at the entrance of the tunnel and listen intently for any signs of life.
Nothing.
Slowly you push the door open with the muzzle of your rifle and pie off the room.
It doesn't surprise you that all the equipment that you broke the last time you were here is now gone, what does surprise you is the fact that it has all been replaced. Bright and shiny new, too bad you don't have time to break it now. You make your way over to the mirror/interrogation room finding that it too is empty; all the blood from your time there cleaned up and the chair and table missing. Curiouser and curiouser.
Back into the monitoring room, this time you're focused on the door leading you deeper into the complex. If anyone is down there with a weapon drawn then you'll be stuck in a dangerous position; little to no cover and a bolt action weapon. A bad combination. You briefly wonder what Max did with that Thompson that you gave him.
You nudge the door open; the corridor is dimly lit by the naked overhead bulbs.
Suddenly the oppressive weight of the air in this underground corridor is split with a scream. A female scream; not one of terror so much as outrage, of violation.
Oh God Bones.
You move swiftly down the tunnel, your breathing getting faster and more ragged as you hustle to find her.
More noises, male voices down in the unknown.
You come to the split, which way do you go? The voices seem to be coming from the right, from the room where you got your freedom from this place. That's the way you'll go.
As you turn you see light under the gap in the door. No time now to think, you have to act!
You kick the door open and rush inside. You dimly notice the tingle of metal along the stone floor.
All you see is a boom box and a- oh shit.
The light blinds you and noise deafens you as the flash-bangs explode.
************************************************************************************************
She hears the flat boom reverberating out of the tunnel entrance. Without regard to the consequences and despite her injuries she rushes in.
***********************************************************************************************
Complete disorientation, woah…
You cough and hack; a burning sensation from your throat and mouth as you unconsciously throw up.
Suddenly you're yanked to your knees. Pain registers as you feel blows land on you. You're blind and deaf; completely disoriented from the blast of two flash-bang grenades and you have the immense fortune to be under attack by the remaining guards. You can't confirm it as of yet but you can tell that they've already taken away your rifle; you hope they haven't hurt her.
Your hearing recovers quickly but your eyes are still fuzzy and unseeing. Of course if they could see they'd warn you of the incoming boot.
You feel your lip split and can taste the blood in your mouth as you fly back and hit the floor. You quickly scramble up to your feet in a feeble fighting stance. Still blind.
How on earth are you going to fight these guys blind?
Suddenly the pictures of that warehouse fill your mind. A voice in your head whispers that these two; you can hear two different sets of breathing, two different heartbeats, these two were the ones who did that.
Bring them to Justice.
And Justice is blind.
You roar and leap at the one to your right, how do you know that he's there? You just do. He lands a solid blow on your chest but you return with a fist to his throat. You feel the windpipe crumble and collapse under your knuckles; you feel his spine break as you slam him back into the wall.
The other one rushes you from behind but you're too fast.
You can sense him flying back and getting dazed from the impact with the floor.
"You were the ones in the warehouse." Your voice has an unearthly tone to it; it's not even a question but a statement. A passing of a sentence, a passing of judgment.
The one whose throat you've crushed only gasps, his wheezes hitching; you can tell that he was. The other one only groans in response.
Your knife appears in your hand. How did it get there you'll never know; only that it is fitting.
But first make them suffer, as they did to their victims.
Your ears are filled with the highest pitched screams of pain you've ever heard as your heel grinds down. You feel the pops and the blood pooling under your boots. Their whimpers are music as you punish them for their violation of that woman in the warehouse. Finally you silence them both; your knife strikes swiftly plunging into their eyes and directly into the brain. Instant death is too good for them but you don't have time to go and sharpen stakes to impale them on at the moment. And on a plus note there's not as much blood on your blade now for you to clean later; eyeball fluid as a cleaner, everyone benefits!
Silently you slide your knife back into its scabbard.
Your eyesight returns as you step back from your last killing blow.
Oh God.
You see Bones just standing there in the doorway, her mouth dropped slightly and her eyes wide. Accusations seem to stream forth from her as your ears are bombarded by the oppressive silence between the two of you. Her eyes tell you that she's seen everything that you did; all that you're capable of. She's seen you kill and cause men agony unblinkingly and without hesitation.
Her hair is mussed and small cuts mar her ethereal beauty, bruises are forming along her arms and hands. Blood trickles down from a split lip. Evidence of a violent fist fight; she's protected herself when you weren't there to protect her.
You weren't there to protect her. The realization hits you harder than all the death that you caused today.
Your heart falls as you realize that you failed her. You weren't there to protect her when she needed it.
Exhaustion and failure combine to overwhelm your energy. You slump to the ground with tears in your eyes.
Despite all you've done you've failed her. Despite all that you've tried to hide from her: your past actions, what you've shown you're capable of. She's seen the side of you that you've tried to hide from her these past four years.
Now she knows, now she'll leave you. You look at her pleadingly; exhaustion and fear on your features, while hers show shock.
You both stare at the other; neither of you daring to make the first move to break this oppressive deadlock.
Man up Seeley and do something, don't let her leave you without you explaining.
Slowly you stand up straight, the pain from your injuries finally breaking through and making themselves known. You slowly make your way to her only pausing to pick up your rifle. You hold her with surprising strength in your hand as you make your way towards Bones.
You raise your left hand. Somehow you managed to keep any sort of blood or other fluids off of it. You approach her slowly trying to read her eyes. She doesn't move away from you but she doesn't move towards you.
"Bones…"
Your moniker for her escapes through dry lips; your mouth feels parched. She's just standing there gazing at you. Why doesn't she do anything? Why doesn't she say anything? Is she frightened? Oh God have you scared her away?
"Bones… I'm sorry- I… Temperance…"
You're pleading with her, just this side of begging. You have to make things right, you have to fix things. How can you fix things if she won't say anything to you?
"Booth…" as hesitant as her voice is the sound is more welcome to you than anything you can possibly imagine.
You're both standing so close to each other. Mere inches away. You can see the emotions swimming in the deep seas of her eyes. If you don't stop moving towards her then you'll lose control over your own deep-set emotions. You can't afford to scare her any more when she's so close to leaving already.
"I'm sorry… I failed to- I failed to keep you safe."
Your hand touches her cheek with as much tenderness as you can muster; her skin feels incredibly soft underneath your calloused fingers.
She inhales suddenly as you touch her but she doesn't flinch away. She seems to lean in towards your touch. Indeed she's reaching to you, her hand resting lightly on your arm. She's so close…
Suddenly you grab her and throw her down on the floor, your body landing over top of her.
The wall behind you explodes in a cloud of rock shards; the roar of the gunshot reverberating at these close quarters.
She yells out in surprise; you just drag her into the room and behind you and the wall. You raise your rifle up and aim down the corridor.
Only to be greeted by a hail of gunfire. So that's where that other Thompson gunner went.
Too bad he got you in the shoulder just then.
"Oh God Jesus Fuck! Damn it!"
You crawl back into cover slapping your left hand over your right shoulder in an effort to staunch the blood. What is it with you getting shot and hurt? Damn it you're the hero here shouldn't you be invincible or something?
"Booth! Are you alright?! You're bleeding!" Bones grabs a hold of you pulling you closer to her and farther away from danger. Her dexterous fingers clamp down on yours as she applies pressure on your wound.
"Argh, yeah Bones I'll be alright. I just need to get a shot off on this guy and we can get out of here no problem. 'Tis only a flesh wound.'" Your arm feels like it's on fire but at least it was just a graze. And your English accent really sucked on that last part there.
Another burst of fire sends more shards flying. You jerk your leg as one of the rock shards buries itself into your thigh. Christdamnalmighty that stings!
Focus Seeley, focus. You have to get Bones out of here and the only way to do that is to get this guy.
Quick glance around the corner.
You see the gunner down at the T, and then you see yet another flash of fire. You duck back just in time as the bullets ricochet all over the stone sending shards flying. Bones gasps as some of it nicks her along her arm leaving a long gash.
If you stay here too long then you're dead you have to act now Seeley.
But how? You can't get a shot off from here… or can you?
You deftly take off the scope of your rifle, time to rely on iron sights.
"Booth what are you doing? You can't aim as well without your scope."
"I don't use a scope for CQM."
"CQM?"
"Close Quarters Marksmanship."
"Booth you're not seriously-"
"Bones the only way that I can be sure of getting a hit on this guy is to go out there and get a shot off in the corridor. He's got me pinned down here and if I take my time in lining up a shot from here it'll take too long before he reacts. The only way I can get him is if I throw him off balance and take the initiative."
"But you'll be out of cover and you don't have any body armor, Booth you could get killed!"
"Bones it's the only way."
She grabs you by your collar and drags you close to her as another burst of fire sends shrapnel flying off the walls.
"Booth you could get killed! I don't want you to get killed! Death is around right that corner and I don't want to see you die."
"I'm still going around that corner." Your temper is getting up; it's no time or place for another argument. You have to act now damn it or else he's going to toss in a grenade or something and finish this Mexican standoff.
"Why?!" She practically screams it at you, tears and anger in her eyes. No time to ponder what that means just yet because you have a task to do.
"For you."
Your simple answer stuns her and she just stares at you. Shock and bewilderment, fear not for herself but for you.
Of course you don't help her out any by kissing her full on the lips.
Wow did you really just do that? Seeley you picked one hell of a time for a damn deathbed confession of epic fail proportions.
But she tastes so sweet on your lips…
You wrench your lips from hers; she's in shock her mouth forming a small "o" and her eyes wide.
"Bones no matter what happens to me I want you to run, get out of here. I'm going to take down this guy. No matter what happens I want you to run and get out of here. Understand me I can't risk you getting hurt so you're going to run. Got me?"
Damn she's still in shock but her head slowly nods up and down in the affirmative.
You get up to your feet, your back complaining the entire time. You pull her to her feet and get ready to move.
Another burst of fire. That wall is getting messed up isn't it?
As soon as the burst is done you sprint around the corner.
You see his amazement to see you completely out of cover.
You raise your rifle. Damn but it's too heavy for quick movements.
He brings his gun to bear.
Rifle up, you have to get an instant kill here, no mistakes Seeley.
Both of you fire at the same time.
You miss.
He doesn't.
You see the wall behind him explode as the round impacts, half an inch too far to the left.
You feel the impact of the round.
Funny you'd think that you'd hurt more as you're pitched backwards onto the floor.
Sorry Bones. You've failed her again. You weep, not for you but for her. You've failed her.
Funny, you think, you were only hit once. Did his weapon jam?
Not that it matters. It's all over now.
You notice a flash of movement over you.
Bones…
Temperance…
"I'm sorry…"
The dark shroud of night descends over your vision and you know no more.
AN: May you bless me with all your many myriad reviews, I hope you enjoyed that! Over 4600 words, whew.