Hey hey! Hope you all had a very Merry Christmas! I hope you like this - it took me a while! :) R&R please.

WARNING: There is coarse language in this chapter, but given the characterisation of the characters...it's necessary. I apologise if it offends anyone! :S And it also 'jumps' [between characters] and awful lot, but it was the only way I could do it justice!

38. To Kill Two Birds with One Stone

A gust of steam blew into Brennan's face, shocking her back into the physical world.

Eyes blurred from their time spent closed, the only prominent detail that occurred to her was the presence of metal - rusted, bold and thick. With each moment that she regained consciousness, she absorbed her surroundings - and her brain registered thick pipes, and a high, shabby ceiling.

"Thank God," Hacker grunted, yanking her away from the ventilation system. "I was beginning to think I'd made you O.D. on that stuff."

Brennan coughed, and a strong substance drifted into her nostrils, but she couldn't pinpoint what it was. "What the hell is wrong with you?" She muttered drowsily, trying to sit up. "Andrew, we're friends-"

"Were," he cut her off, rolling over the word, eyes hardening.

After a long moment, the rest of the chips fell into place. "You're it," Brennan choked, the brilliant nerves of her brain gaining over her sleepiness. "You're his lap-dog."

"Lap-dog, or partner in crime?"

"But...why?"

Hacker put his thumbs in the pockets of his waistcoat. "You didn't honestly think Jacob's resources were that good, did you? All the man can do is fire a gun."

"He's been off the grid, because you've been clearing him off the database whenever he popped up," Brennan surmised in a hard tone, chest tightening.

From one of his pockets, Hacker retrieved a fire lighter. Flipping it's cap open, he chuckled. "Party trick, that; making him the invisible man. Making sure he was able to get to you, and Booth. Coming to think of it - the whole process was pretty damn easy. And you helped, so thank you, so very much."

Brennan swallowed hard. "How-?"

Hacker rolled his eyes. "Who do you think hacked into the FBI's database to give Jacob your location when you hid at your father's? Obvious, stupid choice, by the way. Really, pathetic. And it was only too easy to find the location of your safe house - I mean, really? Two passwords was all it took. And hey - to them, I'm the good guy! If the Deputy Director of the FBI wants to know something, the information is his."

Brennan shoulders drooped. "And my mobile number isn't on my file, for celebrity-status privacy reasons, but that wasn't an issue for you, was it? You still had it from before I went to the Maluku Islands."

He strolled over to Brennan, and stroked away her fringe. "Broken-hearted, I was, the day you told me you were going overseas and wanted to end what we had."

Repulsed by his touch, she tried to lean away as best she could, ribcage rising and falling as her pulse increased. Her stomach dropped. "You were the person texting me," she verbalised, eyes widening in horror. "You were playing with me! You sick, bastard-"

Hacker cut her off, his finger pressing against her lips with all the pressure of an iron rod. "Shh, now. I'd hate for our last moments together to be spent in anger."

"I hate you," Brennan hissed through her teeth. "I hate you. I wouldn't even do you the justice of being civil."

"That sounds like the beginning of a love story madam, not the end of one." He leaned so close, that she could taste the stale, burnt-sugar odour of his breath. "If you'd just chosen the right guy, none of this would have happened to could have been great together."

"Never, we were a bad match," Brennan snarled, as his lips almost touched hers. "What we had wasn't real. You were nothing more than a consolation prize to me." She spat in his face.

He sprawled backwards, wiping away her saliva. His eye's darkened. "You bitch-"

"Enough, Andrew," came a low, steady voice.

Brennan's heart pounded in absolute fear.

.

-B&B-

.

The car had barely stopped, when Booth stumbled out of it. "Where is she?" He yelled, moving towards the steps, where a crowd of CIA agents conversed seriously.

The leader raised a hand to silence the group, though Booth saw it tremble for the time it spent in the air.

"Clint Morsell," the man introduced. "I was the agent assigned to Dr Temperance Brennan."

"Was?" Booth shouted. "Was? Where is she?"

Clint looked around to his colleagues, and then back to the FBI agent. "She's been taken hostage by Jacob Broadsky, and FBI Deputy Director Andrew Hacker."

"Hacker…" Booth processed, eyes on the ground, balance wavering. In a second, his eyes were on Clint, bright with fury. "You let them take her?" He shouted.

"Agent Booth, please, try to stay calm. Dr Brennan is wearing a tracker. It's implanted in the clothing she is wearing. The CIA slipped it to her, so she has no idea. They couldn't know about it; we can find her."

"Then how does that help?" Booth demanded. "How does that…," he repeated feverishly, inconsolably. "How does that help?" He turned, and kicked the ground, clawing a hand through his hair. "She doesn't know! She doesn't know that you guys are coming to get her. How does thathelp?"

"We have agents on the road, and in the air, Agent Booth," Clint answered evenly. "And a helicopter is coming in for us, with a SWAT team."

As if on cue, the deafening chopping of blades slicing thin air crescendoed, until the machine was in view. And then it disappeared.

"Where is it?" Booth's eyes strained through the dense forage.

"On the roadside; there's no safe landing for a chopper in here," Clint explained, moving towards an SUV. "Are you coming?"

Booth was back in the car, faster than he had exited it.

.

- B&B -

.

Jacob Broadsky entered the room.

"You weren't going to burn her, were you Andrew?" He cocked his head sideways, as if he were laughing at his own joke. "Stupid man, I don't do torture." He advanced towards Brennan, and stopped a metre before her.

He absolutely does, Brennan thought fearfully, discretely sniffing her shirt.

Petrol.

"You monster!" Brennan screeched out to Hacker. "You were going to burn me alive?"

"Tell us where your man is," the Director ordered.

Broadsky turned. "Shut up. She isn't here to be interrogated, or tortured you fucking retard. She's bait."

"Then why haven't you shot her yet?" Hacker asked, visibly offended by his master's words of discourage.

Jacob reached out to Brennan, and lifted her chin with his index finger. "Haven't you learnt? Fish only go for live bait."

"But Booth would want to avenge her death if you killed-"

Jacob turned. "I think you need to learn very quickly that you're a nuisance, and I that don't need you anymore. Consider how much your life is of value to me."

Hacker backed away into the corner of the room.

"Although," Jake pondered quietly. "It's only a matter of time before he learns what happened to that damned boy a the lab. That was supposed to his body. I really don't like having to resort to Plan B's."

Brennan's heart leapt. "What do you mean, 'boy at the lab'?"

Jacob shook his head. "Well darlin' - I thought I took out Booth at your lab, but it turns out the kid I actually hit was a decoy," he laughed - though the dark humour did not reach his eyes. "Andrew here, informed me that I'd hit the wrong guy, right before he picked you up. He then sent me here - and it makes sense, right? Abandoned cement factories always make the best hostage centres. Such a damn cliche - I mean, it won't take too for Seeley to figure it out - but they're a maze, these kinds of places."

"Booth's smart," Brennan warned. "You're a fool if you think you're going to win."

"Am I?" Broadsky contradicted, eyes narrowing. "I think every thing's worked out pretty well so far. And Andrew has ensured that I have 'friends'. So, if something goes badly here - you'd do well to remember that you're not the only person Booth's close to. Even in my death, my friends, have their orders."

Brennan's whole body ached sickeningly. "Parker," she whispered, eyes full.

Broadsky grimaced. "It will be painless, never you mind."

"Don't touch him," Brennan screeched very suddenly, struggling against her ties as the two men regained their composure from her outburst. "Don't you dare go near him!"

"Oh, I won't be, remember? Friends?" Broadsky, catching her course of action as he turned to face her again, retrieved a handgun from his waist.

Freezing, in the act, her eyes widened fearfully when she saw the weapon. "Please don't," she begged, tears seeping from the corners of her eyes. "I'm pregnant."

For a moment, Brennan thought she caught a flash of remorse on Hacker's face, from where he stood in the corner of the room.

"Well then," Jacob resolved, his index finger caressing the trigger. "I suppose it would kind be like killing two birds with one stone, wouldn't it?"

"You're a predatory man. A hunter," Brennan blurted, swallowing - a last, feeble attempt. "So how are you satisfying the monster in you, that yearns for the hunt? By killing us now, what will you achieve?"

Jacob smiled tightly. "Dr Brennan - you're mistaken. You're not the primary objective; by killing you, I'm drawing Booth out. You're only what's known as collateral damage, sweet-heart." He advanced towards her. "Don't take it personally."

Chest heaving in fear, Brennan closed her eyes.

I'm so sorry, she thought to the growing child in her womb. I'm so sorry, my little darling.

"Stop!" Hacker suddenly yelled.

Broadsky whirled around, and pointed his revolver at the man.

Hacker put his hands up in defence. "Listen," he explained urgently, eyes pleading with the sniper.

Broadksy froze.

.

- B&B -

.

"And you're sure this is it?" Booth demanded, reaching for a vest.

Clint restricted him. "You stay here."

Booth gripped his arm. "You don't get to make that call," he hissed through his teeth. "Let me suit up."

"I'm afraid that isn't up to you," Clint apologised. "I'm just following orders."

"No, you give the orders. Don't give me that crap. I helped you get to this conclusion - I have to be the one to take him out."

"I'm sorry Booth - that can't happen. We can't put your life at risk." Clint fastened his vest, and took his weapon. "The agents here will ensure that you stay safe."

Booth looked at the two pilots. Both men stared ahead, their expressions unfathomable through their goggles and helmets.

Fuming beneath the surface, Booth was left standing beneath the shelter of the helicopter pilots, as the team of men disappeared into the cement factory.

Running alongside the SWAT team, Clint felt remorse for forcing Booth to stay behind; though that had been the plan all along, guilt plagued his conscience. If it were him, and he could have made a difference when his loved one faced death…he would have.

"Nothing, Sir," one of the SWAT members reported, after scouting a nearby control room.

Clint motioned forward with a jerking point of his hand. "Move on."

A hundred metres on, the men came to a halt at an iron door - which, sure enough, was locked, or at least barricaded - and behind it, there was rustling.

"Do we detonate the door, Sir?" The same SWAT member asked, reaching for the appropriate equipment.

Clint, very reluctantly, shook his head. "We don't know how close Dr Brennan is to that door - we can't risk hurting her."

"We have thermal imaging, Sir. It won't give us an accurate distance, but it can tell us if she's close," the other man reasoned with him.

"Then do it," Clint hissed quietly, as his phone buzzed. He lifted the device to his ear. "Morsell."

"Clint," Sophia answered, her voice trembling - though not with fear; it sounded as though she were on the move. "It me. Rebecca Stinson and her son were moved into Agency custody as you asked."

"Thank you, Soph. Take care - we'll hopefully have this tied up in a minute."

She laughed softly on the other end of the line. "Yeah, take care." She cut the line.

The SWAT member - Clint's right-hand man - now shook his arm. "I can't guarantee a clean hit, but the blast won't kill anyone," he informed.

Clint nodded. "Blow the door."

As two men fixed the device, the rest stood back and waited.

Moments later, when the men had joined them, the door's latch gave way.

"Move!" Clint gave the order, and when they did as told, followed in.

"Jacob Broadsky!" He boomed. "Put your weapon down, we have you surrounded!"

"Ah, and at last, here he is. Though you're not the one I'm after, I'm sure I could settle for your blood, whilst I'm here."

Clint tightened his grip on his weapon. "So confident you're going to get away, Jacob? Why would you out-right confess something like that, to me. You don't know, who I am?"

Jacob laughed. "You think I'm stupid, Agent Morsell?" He turned his handgun on Hacker. "You think I don't know who you are?"

Clint said nothing.

"You lost your place with FBI because your partner died on your watch," Jacob continued, taking the man's silence for a response. "A car accident, wasn't it? Behind your wheel?"

"Clint," Brennan managed in a broken whisper, comprehending. "Oh no."

"It wasn't my fault," Clint answered, his expression unfathomable as his tone was. "I couldn't have changed what happened that day, and the FBI understood."

"You keep on telling youself that. But, my guess, is that you wouldn't let another die under your watch again," Broadsky tormented, index finger tightening around the trigger. "I'll do you a favour; save you a bullet. You leave now, and this man lives to see another day - he goes to prison, and you feel good about it on the inside, knowing that he serves his time. If you think that isn't a good idea…then I kill Dr Brennan here." He pulled a lighter carefully from his pocket. "She goes up in flames. Or you let me get away, and everybody lives. Your choice."

Clint's face was a mask of menace. "I vote for none of the above," he answered coolly. "You're surrounded, and desperate. You're pulling ultimatums out of thin air, that you have no more of. Enough of the hollow threats."

Broadsky smirked. "Now let's be serious." His handgun was directed at Hacker again.

And he pulled the trigger.

In a moment, that seemed to stand still - the bullet was delivered, and the room went from having thirteen lives in it, to twelve.

Brennan stifled a choke of horror.

Thick, red crimson leaked from the late Andrew Hacker's head, as his lifeless body drowned in itself.

Jacob concluded with, "When have I ever made a threat that I didn't follow through with?" But almost as soon as he stopped talking, he himself, jerked, and in a blur of a screech of agony, her met the floor with a thud, clutching his calf.

All eyes lifted to a platform above, where two figures stood; one, with an M16 assault rifle in hand, the other, with her arms folded across her chest.

"Sophia," Clint breathed - in a tone that suggested he couldn't decide whether to be angry, or relieved.

"Booth," Brennan murmured tearfully.

Jacob turned his glance up to his assailant. "Traditional!" He barked. "Going for high ground. I should have expected so much, Seeley."

"You said it yourself, Jacob," Booth called down to him, taking the stairs. "And I quote," he continued through his teeth, as he approached him. 'You'll never see the bullet that takes you down'." He moved in on Jacob, and pressed his foot into the bullet wound. "Pay back's a bitch, ain't it?"

Jacob smirked. "You lose," he spat, laughing sadistically. "Either way, you lose."

Booth looked towards the other men present.

But it was Brennan that answered in desperation, "Booth, it isn't over-"

Two SWAT members took up Jacob, so that Booth could untie her.

"It's okay baby, it's all done-"

"No, Booth," she coughed, face forlorn with anguish. "He's put a hit on Parker."

Yay! Ding-dong the bitch is dead - well, not quite [still among the living] - but what of Parker?! We're getting very close now - what do you think lovelies? Let me know! Please, don't read and run! Thank you to all that fav/followed/review last chapter - I love you guys, and I got back to everyone that left me message last chapter [with PM activated] xx

I'll update asap. xx HAPPY NEW YEAR! :D