"There he is," Parker said, pointing his finger to a muscular man.
"Go ahead," Isabel, who was secretly enjoying the kid, responded. Liz noted the time and said that they should wait at the security gates.
"And this is why I'm partially glad why we ran away; doing good deeds…"
"And avoiding the law; I've heard it before. His father looks really happy," Isabel noted, smiling.
"That's why," Liz affirmed.
Booth looked up dejectedly, though his pace was quick. He saw something darting around the passengers and he lowered his head again. But he looked up expectantly as he saw his son coming to him. His heart wrenched, wondering if it was a mirage like the woman he saw in his dream. But when he dropped his bags to pick up the boy, he knew that his son was safe and hadn't been very hurt. He hugged his son close to him, shutting his eyes so that he wouldn't be fooled by them. After some moments, he let Bones greet his son before asking Parker about what happened.
"This family found me, and they've been trying to find out who you are," he answered. "Two sisters took me here to make sure I didn't run away from them."
Booth looked up at the crowd to see who was there. He found most of the people he noticed from the plane, but he noticed two women standing near a café from where his son ran. One of them was the beautiful mirage from his dream. The other looked fairly plain to him with brown hair and eyes, and he noticed she was the same age as her companion. Both had wedding bands on them. He walked up to them, searching for his gun.
"We can deflect a gun without drawing one of our own, and we brought your son to you without threatening you. We aren't the killers," Liz concluded. "We just need to talk to you." Both women looked at him intently, and Booth answered:
"This is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan, an anthropologist."
"Biology, although I wasn't able to get a college education," Liz answered, extending her hand. "Can we talk somewhere?"
"Very business-like, aren't you? Are you sure that you didn't take my kid?"
"We just want to talk," Isabel said, scaring the man before her. "We are giving you an interrogation. We just need to talk. How about behind closed doors at your office?"
"Fine."
"So, what's your story?" Booth asked, propping his feet onto his desk, the anthropologist behind him looking disbelieving.
"My husband and I were walking down a road when we saw a child getting pulled out of a van. We followed them into an old building, and we listened to them. They were planning on using a hot poker, and we decided to get as much information as we could before your son got seriously hurt. All that I noticed were cuts and bruises." Liz looked directly at Booth as she said this, but when he looked at her to continue, she added, "He fought back. All the way."
Booth nodded his head slowly, no doubt processing their story. "What did you find out?"
"They're serial killers, using your son to get to you. We rescued your son and kept him safe while waiting to find you," Liz answered properly.
"How did you find me?" he asked, looking at her as though he caught her.
"I, uh, walked into your dreams and asked you about it," Isabel replied, clearing her throat.
"That's not possible," Brennan cut in, staring down the woman.
"I thought that same thing when I first found out," Liz answered. "Someone who is scientifically intelligent would try to find a scientific explanation for everything, but I eventually found out that advanced human brains can cause things that can't be explained."
"Such as what?" Booth asked, obviously disbelieving.
"We can manipulate molecular structures," Isabel answered quickly.
Booth looked at them unknowingly. Brennan provided, "It means that they can change one object into another." He continued to look between the three women stupidly. Liz pushed herself forward in her chair to Booth's feet. She changed his striped socks into black socks and back again.
But Booth wasn't the only one surprised. "Liz, how have you done that?" Isabel asked.
"Max has been making me practice for the war," Liz answered softly.
"Is my tumor back?" Booth asked Brennan quietly. When she shook her head, he added loudly, "What war?"
Isabel took a deep breath and bit her lip. Liz looked at her twiddling thumbs, letting Isabel know she had to do it. "Thanks, Liz. We aren't from around here. Well, Liz is, but she's changed." She told the story up until Liz's and Max's wedding as far as she knew.
"That is one hell of a story," Booth said, looking to his partner.
"Tell me how you still have an office even though you are from Afghanistan," Liz demanded sternly.
"After that cock-and-bull story? No way," Booth said.
"I'm willing to do a polygraph test and have a human lie detector in the room if I have to tell this story again," Liz answered.
"Well, then, who is against you?" Brennan asked.
Liz and Isabel looked at each other and simultaneously took deep breaths. "Special Unit of the FBI," Isabel answered slowly.
"It doesn't exist," Booth said quickly. "Still doesn't check out."
"You can tell that to my brother, who served as a lab rat because he was blamed for a killing that happened fifty years ago by…our protector," Isabel answered, avoiding eye contact.
"You're lying," Booth said. "You didn't have eye contact."
"He killed the leaders of the Special Unit because they were after us. He did his job, even though that meant killing someone. We only kill people when they start to torture kids," Liz clarified, looking unblinkingly at Booth.
"So we don't have to take care of them ourselves?" Booth asked, taking his feet off the desk and looking at the two of them.
"Not exactly…" Liz answered.
"You wanted to keep the people on the streets that kidnapped my son? Make it more interesting? Or perhaps proving innocence by keeping them alive before telling us?"
"It just came out like that," Liz said, standing up and starting to yell. "I was too busy trying to protect our identity and free your son. My husband was the one who blasted the serial killers who escaped from jail. I have no idea what his intentions were. We escaped and we've been trying to locate you for five days. "
"Two days ago I contacted him about the kidnapping about his son. But we knew about it five days ago."
"Bones, why do you have to tell the perps about what you've done?" Booth asked, turning slightly to her while still keeping Liz and Isabel in view.
"Clearly, they aren't killers. Besides, your son said they did rescue him. Are you going to disregard what he says?" Brennan said, beginning to sidle over to the other side.
"So, what, you're on their side because she might be good at Biology?"
"No, their story has to check out about the Special Unit. I once knew about someone named Agent Daniel Pierce," both women twitched, "who disappeared after a while. I hardly ever saw him. I did once see him around the FBI building wearing a suit. He went to New Mexico and he never came back."
"So, there is a Special Unit?"
"There's only one way to find out. But it seems as though Daniel Pierce did something traumatic to both of them. What is it?"
Liz took a deep breath and began to tear. "He kidnapped my husband and put him into the White Room," she took another deep breath and a tear in her right eye fell onto her cheekbone. "There, he…tortured," Liz's voice cracked when she said the word, "my husband. We wanted to know about our world, but he tortured Max to get the information," Liz finished, wiping the tear from her trembling cheek.
"And Max is your husband?" Booth asked, seemingly uncaring.
"We have already said this. We should leave if you aren't going to believe us. We can just let those people get your son and you and kill both of you. The least that we could have done to help you would be to get the guys who did this to you, but apparently you don't want our help," Isabel retaliated, standing up and grabbing Liz to leave.
Booth watched them go, but Brennan soon began to follow them, forcing Booth to see if they would hurt her.
"Hey!" Brennan shouted down the hall, the two rapidly approaching the elevators. They stopped, and she jogged to reach them. "I'm trying to solve a related murder. If he won't help you, then that's his problem. But I think that you have a lot to help us with, and I think your story in there was true."
"You're the rational type. I wouldn't expect you to understand that so quickly," Liz answered. "But we'll help you to get them. With or without his help."
"I can say whether that will happen or not," Booth said, out of breath and catching up.
"You aren't on the case because you are too emotionally involved. Secondly, you are supposed to be in Afghanistan, but you are only back here because they thought that you might be able to help the case because people might be after you because you have been an FBI agent. Otherwise, you wouldn't even be here. Because they need an excellent Forensic Anthropologist; they asked me to solve the murder. That is why I am here. I can have some sort of a say in who I decide are consultants in this case. Thus, they will be helping us, and I hope that you can trust them. I do, so why don't you?"
"Well…"
"It was a rhetorical question, Table," Liz answered, containing her laugh.
"It's Booth."
"Whatever."
"Look, I have remains to see, so we're going to go. I'll keep you informed about the case, Booth," Brennan answered, slipping into the elevators with the women.