"The Debt in the Friendship"
Booth exited the coffee shop with a tray of orders and was almost to his SUV when his former bookie Jimmy and some older guy intercepted him.
Booth instantly stiffened. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"This is Mr. Colón," Jimmy introduced. "He's the one who held your debt."
"Yeah, well it was paid off."
This Mr. Colón guy pulled out a thick envelope and stuck it between the coffee cups on the tray. "That's the money you paid. I've decided to collect in another way."
Booth gaped at him incredulously and pulled the envelope flap open, revealing a huge stack of cash. "You've got to be kidding," he responded and picked up the envelope and shoved it back into Colón's chest, forcing the man to take it back. "My debt was paid, end of story. I'm not gambling anymore. So get lost and never come near me again." He pushed past them to reach the SUV.
"Giving your wife her money back will help you make amends," Colón pressed.
Booth whirled on him, and if he wasn't holding the tray of coffee cups, he would have grabbed the man by the front of his shirt and slammed him against the car. "You stay the hell away from me and my family or I will make you regret it."
With that, he got into his car and cranked the key in the ignition. Then he backed up, forcing the two thugs to get out of the way or get run over. Then he gunned it out of there and to the office. He was so agitated that he dropped the coffee in the break room instead of delivering it and stormed into his office.
Aubrey poked his head in a minute later. "Hey, Booth. You okay?" he asked cautiously.
"Fine," he said in a clipped tone.
Aubrey, not knowing when to back off, came into the office and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "You're going through a rough time," he said sympathetically. "With Dr. Brennan and the gambling—"
"What's your point?" Booth snapped.
"That if you need anything, I'm here."
"Just mind your own business, Aubrey."
"Booth, as your friend—"
"We're coworkers," Booth cut him off sharply. "That's it. So why don't you go do your job instead of wasting my time."
Aubrey just stood there for a moment before leaving without another word.
Booth shoved some papers away roughly and banged the computer mouse. Everyone just needed to leave him alone.
There were some people to talk to that could have been done via phone call, but Aubrey opted to head out in person. Booth was like a cornered lion, and some distance from the office would be good. Aubrey didn't want to take Booth's words personally; the guy was just lashing out from frustration and humiliation. Aubrey knew this.
That didn't mean it hadn't stung a little.
He pulled his keys out as he approached his car, only for someone to throw a thick sack cloth over his head. He dropped the keys and jerked in alarm as several pairs of hands grabbed his arms and began hauling him backward. He tripped but was then flung into what he guessed was a van. A sliding door slammed shut and tires squealed as someone gunned it. Aubrey thrashed as he tried to fight back, but a blow to the head dazed him long enough for someone to snatch his handcuffs and wrench his arms behind his back. The cold metal snapped around his wrists.
Struggling wasn't going to get him anywhere, so he forced himself to remain still and focus on every detail he could discern and commit to memory. None of the thugs in the van spoke, so he couldn't be sure how many there were. At least three. The van maintained a speed through regular streets, but it was still a while before they slowed down to more of a crawl. The tires juddered over some kind of grate before turning and finally coming to a stop. The sliding door was thrown open, and then Aubrey was grabbed and hauled out. Two guys held him up between them, and the hood was finally yanked off.
He blinked as his vision readjusted, and he found himself in an empty warehouse. He was right about the three guys, plus a fourth one. And to Aubrey's surprise, he recognized Jimmy Kosinski, the bookie Brennan had Aubrey pay to clear Booth's debt.
"What is this?" Aubrey demanded.
It was the fourth guy who answered. "Agent Booth needs a little incentive."
Aubrey's heart sank. Was Booth still gambling? Even after Brennan had kicked him out for lying about it?
The man reached forward, and Aubrey recoiled, but the guy merely dug around for his cell phone. He placed a call and set the phone on speaker.
"Did you find anything new on the case?" Booth tersely answered.
Aubrey didn't respond, but unnamed bad guy gestured for him to say something, so he reluctantly replied, "No. I'm, uh, with some friends of yours."
"What are you talking about?"
"Agent Booth," the man holding the phone spoke up. "I was serious about your debt repayment."
There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line before Booth spat angrily, "You already got your money, Colón! I told you I'm clean."
Aubrey was a little relieved to know Booth had not, in fact, continued gambling. But that only increased the confusion as to what the heck was going on.
"The money has already been returned to your wife," this Colón guy went on calmly. "And we won't have to bother her getting it back if you do as I say. Not to mention your partner here is counting on you."
"Aubrey has nothing to do with this."
"There's some evidence at the 14th Precinct," Colón continued, ignoring Booth's protests. "I'll text you the case file number. You have five hours, after which I will text you an address to bring it."
"You can't be serious," Booth sputtered.
"Oh, and if you try to tell the FBI anything, you'll probably lose your job." Colón paused and looked at Aubrey. "And your partner loses his life."
Aubrey swallowed hard. Colón disconnected the call and proceeded to text the information he'd promised.
"What evidence is worth more than 30 grand?" Aubrey asked, not liking this at all, and not only because his life was on the line here.
But Colón ignored him and simply nodded to his two goons. "You know where to stash him."
Aubrey was helpless as they dragged him away.
Booth tossed his phone down on the desk and spun where he stood, wanting to punch something. But he couldn't lose it and cause a scene. Not that anyone out in the bullpen would be brave enough to come check on him. Aubrey was the only one who'd do that.
His phone beeped with a text message, and Booth exhaled sharply as he picked it up to look. He then got on his computer and accessed the police database to look up the case information. He slumped back in his chair in dismay. It was a drug bust, and the evidence logged was a shipment of cocaine worth several million dollars. There was no way Booth could just walk out of the precinct with that, even as an FBI agent. Nor could he allow that many drugs to hit the streets and kill a bunch of innocent people.
Addicts aren't really innocent, are they? a dark voice whispered.
Booth closed his eyes at the self-recrimination. He was an addict, and while he knew fault did lay with the disease, that didn't mean he wasn't responsible for his actions. He had exposed himself to temptation, knowing full well the risk involved. And he had paid for it.
But now other people, people he cared about, were paying for it too.
Booth couldn't deal with this alone, but he couldn't tell his bosses or he would lose his job. So he went to the only person he could trust.
When he walked into the Jeffersonian and Brennan's office, however, she was anything but happy to see him.
"What is this?" she asked sharply, holding up a familiar manila envelope.
"Bones…"
"You're still gambling," she accused.
"No! Bones, I swear to you, I'm not. My bookie's backer approached me this morning, wanted to give the money back and take something else as repayment, a favor. I said no! So now he's given you the money back himself and taken Aubrey."
Bones furrowed her brows. "What do you mean taken Aubrey?"
"They have Aubrey, and if I don't steal a shipment of drugs from police evidence, they'll kill him."
Bones stared at him for a long moment as though debating whether to believe him. But he'd never lie about someone's life being in danger.
"Did you tell the FBI?" she asked.
Booth grimaced. "If I do and the gambling comes out…I could lose my job. Look, I trust you, Bones. Please, for Aubrey's sake."
"What do you plan to do? Make the exchange?"
He shook his head. "I can't. There's no way I can walk into the police station and confiscate an entire drug shipment without getting a few calls placed to my boss. I was hoping you'd help me figure out another way."
Brennan looked at him incredulously for a moment before shaking her head. "We need the others."
Booth winced at bringing more people into this, even though the Jeffersonian squints were the best team there was and the only chance Booth had at saving his job and his partner.
Bones called Hodgins, Angela, and Cam into her office where Booth then had to explain the situation. Cam also expressed her concern that they weren't going to tell the FBI, but Booth pleaded his case, and she gave in.
"We're down to four and a half hours," he finished.
"To deliver a shipment of drugs you can't get," Hodgins summarized.
Booth sighed. "Yeah."
"Can we fake it?" Angela posited.
Hodgins perked up. "We can use powdered sugar for most of it, but won't these guys test it to be sure?"
"Yeah," Booth agreed. "Maybe I can get a pack from FBI evidence."
"That'll still link back to you, Booth," Brennan pointed out.
"I could cook some up," Hodgins said. "It's just chemistry."
Cam shook her head. "I can't believe we're having this discussion."
"Aubrey's life is on the line," Booth replied.
"Which is why a tactical team would be the better call."
His mouth pressed into a thin line. "Look, if we tell the FBI, they'll take me off this, and there's no way this Colón guy is going to meet with anyone other than me. I have to do this. If you want to report me after…then fine."
Cam gave him a distraught look that he was putting her in this position, but that was the least of his concerns right now.
"Then we have a plan," Bones interjected. "Let's get to work and focus on getting Aubrey back."
They split up. Hodgins went to cook a batch of cocaine (and under any other circumstance Booth would have taken issue with him knowing how to do that), and Angela worked on replicating the evidence labels and packaging from the pictures in the case file. They had barely finished when the time was up and Booth received a text with a meeting place—the fourth story of a parking garage.
Booth stuffed the real and fake drugs into a duffel bag.
"I'm coming with you," Brennan said.
"No, absolutely not. You're pregnant, Bones!"
"You can't go alone. You need backup."
"I'll be fine," he insisted. "It's just a simple exchange."
He couldn't let himself think about anything else that would come after. The consequences of deceiving Colón, what Aubrey was going to say to the FBI…Booth could end up losing his job in the end anyway. But this was his mess, and he was going to clean it up the best he could.
And deal with the fallout later.
When Booth arrived at the parking garage, Colón was already there, along with two lackeys Booth didn't recognize. Jimmy wasn't present that he could see.
"Do you have it?" Colón asked.
Booth pulled the duffel bag out of the back seat. "Where's Aubrey?"
"Show me the bag first."
Booth gritted his teeth and dropped the duffel on the ground, then bent down to unzip it, pulling the edge back to reveal the drugs.
Colón nodded to one of his goons, and the guy strode forward. Booth stood and backed up a step to keep himself in a poised position. Colón's man knelt down and whipped out a knife, which he used to slit open one of the packages. Booth held himself stiffly as the guy dipped his finger in and took a taste, but the thug turned back to Colón and nodded.
"I've held up my end," Booth said. "Where's my partner?"
The thug picked up the duffel and started carrying it back to the van.
"Yeah, about that," Colón said. "I can't have an upstanding FBI agent bear witness against me. Or two for that matter."
Booth dove behind his vehicle as the three thugs all drew their weapons and started shooting. He shot back up with his gun to return fire, taking out one guy before the barrage of bullets forced him down again. He scrambled around to the front of the vehicle to fire over the hood, hitting Colón square in the chest and taking him down. But the third guy had vanished. Booth cautiously approached the van, expecting a surprise attack.
The echoing report behind his back made him jerk and spin in alarm just as the third guy fell to the ground, having circled around behind him. Brennan stood several yards back, gun raised.
"Bones! What are you doing here?" Booth yelled.
"I told you you needed backup," she rejoined. "Are there any more?"
Booth went around to each of the bodies to retrieve their guns and check their pulses. They were all dead.
Brennan looked around. "Where's Aubrey?"
Booth straightened and rushed to the van, gun raised in case someone was hiding inside. But when he wrenched the sliding door open, he found the space empty. Aubrey wasn't there. Colón had double crossed him. Booth looked at Bones in mounting dread. With the kidnappers dead, they had no way of knowing where Aubrey was.
Booth had no choice but to call this in. His superiors, of course, wanted answers, and Booth explained about Aubrey's kidnapping and the blackmail and the Jeffersonian team's attempt to fake the exchange. He left out that his gambling debt had been the door that opened them all up to this, since Colón wasn't alive to contradict him. His bosses were pissed that he went lone wolf when one of their own was in danger. Booth apologized and claimed he thought it was the only way to get Aubrey back safely. Except since it didn't work, Booth's head was on the chopping block anyway.
Cam and Hodgins had come to examine the scene. Hodgins said something about identifying particulates on the bad guys' shoes to figure out where they'd been recently, and therefore maybe where they'd left Aubrey.
"Yeah, good, let me know," Booth said absently as he finally was able to leave the scene. He had another lead to pursue. Before he could put his car in gear, Brennan climbed into the front passenger seat.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"Jimmy was with Colón earlier and he knew Aubrey, so he had to have told Colón about him. I'm going to find him."
"Then I'm coming with you."
"I don't need a chaperone," he said tersely.
"We're partners, Booth! And I care about Aubrey too."
He tightened his hands around the steering wheel but didn't argue further. Without another word, he drove out of the parking garage and headed for the bar Jimmy often did business out of. Sure enough, the bookie was hanging out in the back. Booth marched right up to him and dragged him out of his chair to slam against the wall.
"Where's Aubrey?" he snarled.
"Whoa, Booth, cool your jets, man," Jimmy responded.
Booth slammed him against the wall again. "Where is he?!"
"I don't know!"
"You were with Colón this morning," Booth pressed, tightening his grip on Jimmy's shirt front.
The bartender started making his way toward them, but Bones shot a hand up to ward him off and loudly said, "We're FBI."
"I was with him, yeah," Jimmy said. "But now I'm not. I don't know where he is."
"Your boss is dead," Booth snapped. "Tried to kill me when I handed over his drugs. But my partner wasn't with him. So I'll ask you again, where is Aubrey?"
"I don't know! I made the introductions and then went back to my business."
Booth stared him down for a prolonged moment, then wrenched him around. "Fine. You're under arrest for kidnapping a federal agent."
Jimmy scoffed. "You're really gonna play that card, Booth? Your gambling debt will come to light and you'll lose your job."
Booth paused in the process of cuffing him, rage exploding through him. He wanted to beat Jimmy into the ground, and then arrest him anyway.
"Booth," Brennan interjected softly.
Booth forced himself to shove away from the man and turned to walk away.
"He doesn't know where Aubrey is anyway," Bones pointed out as they left the bar. "We should go back to the Jeffersonian and rely on the evidence to find Aubrey."
Booth shook his head, distraught. "This is my fault."
Bones didn't contradict him. "Then let's go fix it," she said.
Aubrey coughed into the cloth gag stuffed tightly in his mouth. The fibers he'd inhaled combined with thirst were irritating his throat. He tried to shift position, but with his hands cuffed behind his back and ankles bound, he couldn't do much more than wiggle futilely. He hadn't heard anything outside in hours, or what felt like hours, so he was pretty sure this section of the waterfront was either private property or abandoned. To make matters worse, the sun had been beating down on the shipping container he'd been tossed into, turning it into an enclosed oven. He was parched and his clothes sticky from sweat, and he was starting to feel nauseated.
Had the deadline Colón given Booth come already? No one had come to retrieve Aubrey, so that didn't bode well. At this rate, he was going to suffocate in this hellbox. He was beginning to suspect Colón had no intention of holding up his end of the trade, which couldn't be good for Booth either.
Aubrey again tried to move enough to get leverage to lift himself up into sitting, but his head swam and he thunked it back down, swallowing back a surge of bile. Better he not do that. The last thing he needed was to throw up while gagged and then aspirate on vomit. That'd be a horrible way to go.
So would cooking to death in a sweltering metal box.
He started to imagine what condition his body would be in when he was finally found…which was a really bad train of thought. Maybe he should give in to passing out before his imagination could get too gruesome and mentally scar him for life.
If he survived…
By the time Booth and Brennan got to the Jeffersonian, Cam had identified Colón as Horacio Colón, a mobster with several property holdings throughout the DC area. Any of which Aubrey could have been stashed at. They needed to narrow it down.
"I identified the particulates on all three of the kidnappers' shoes as iron oxide, Platorchestia platensis, and copepods," Hodgins said.
"Speak English," Booth snapped impatiently.
Hodgins had the decency to look chastised. "Rust, sand flea, and crustacean."
Booth straightened. "So near the ocean. I can work with that." He went to hijack Cam's computer and pulled up a map of the coast to compare with the list of business holdings Colón had.
"We can't know for certain that's where Aubrey is," Bones pointed out.
"The particulates were fresh," Hodgins replied.
"Colón and his men didn't have that much time between grabbing Aubrey and the deadline," Booth replied. "Especially since they would have had the parking garage staked out before they even sent me the address, to make sure I came alone. Here." He pointed to a waterfront property on the map. "This dock doesn't see a lot of activity. It's the perfect place to conduct illegal business." He pulled out his cell to call for a tactical team and headed for the door.
Brennan and Hodgins followed, though Booth would make sure they stayed back until the tactical team could clear the area.
When they arrived at the waterfront, Booth took lead making entry. But the place was empty. The team cleared the first warehouse without running into anyone, and there was no sign of Aubrey. Booth crossed the entire building and stepped out onto the dock behind it; there was still no one in the vicinity.
"Check all these warehouses!" he barked.
"Maybe we should drag the water," Hodgins suggested.
Booth's stomach twisted. No, that couldn't be what happened. He could not be responsible for another colleague's—another friend's—death.
"Or maybe those shipping containers," Hodgins added.
Booth nodded and headed toward them. Most of them weren't locked, so when they came upon one that was, Booth's adrenaline spiked again.
"We need bolt cutters!" he hollered.
One of the tactical guys hurried over with a set and broke the lock. Booth grabbed the handle and pulled hard, only to jerk back at the wave of cloying hot air that buffeted his face when they got it open.
Bones rushed inside without hesitation and knelt next to an unconscious Aubrey. "He's alive! We need to move him outside."
Hodgins hurried in, as did Booth, and they both picked Aubrey up and carried him out into the open air. His pallor was ghastly gray and he was drenched in sweat. Bones lowered herself down beside him again and pulled the cloth gag out of his mouth.
"He's severely dehydrated and hyperthermic," she said. "We need an ambulance and water right away."
There was rope around Aubrey's ankles, which Hodgins was untying. Booth radioed for the ambulance and water, then fished out his handcuff keys and knelt down to free Aubrey's wrists from behind his back. Bones urgently loosened his tie next.
An agent brought over a bottle of water. "Ambulance is on its way."
Brennan took the bottle and immediately poured some of the water over Aubrey's face. He didn't rouse at all.
"He's going to be okay, right?" Booth asked.
Bones gave him that look that said she didn't want to lie to him, and dread sank like a rock in his stomach.
Brennan continued running the water over Aubrey's face until the medics arrived, then she and Hodgins moved out of the way and Bones rattled off terminology Booth could barely follow but which sounded dire. He could only watch helplessly, guilt gnawing at his soul over how badly he'd screwed up.
Aubrey woke to the feel of scratchy sheets and an unbearable shiver. He squinted in confusion as he roved his gaze around the hospital machines and curtains, until his eyes landed on Angela sitting by the bed.
"Hey," she said with an immensely relieved smile.
"How did I get here?" he asked hoarsely.
"Booth and Brennan found you. And Hodgins too. He's the one who narrowed down your location to the waterfront."
Aubrey's frown deepened. "I'm feeling pretty out of it," he admitted. "I need more."
"Oh, okay. Booth told us about the situation, and we helped him put together a mostly fake drug package to take to the exchange. But the bad guys lied and you weren't there, and they tried to kill Booth, but they were killed in the shootout instead. Which meant they couldn't tell Booth where you were, so Hodgins identified the particulates on their shoes, which led to the dock."
Aubrey still had trouble filling in the gaps, but he supposed it didn't matter since he was alive. "So…it's over?"
Angela nodded. "Booth would be here but he's still at the FBI dealing with the fallout. He didn't exactly tell anyone outside of the Jeffersonian what was going on."
Aubrey silently processed that. Yeah, Booth could lose his job over this, which Aubrey didn't want to see happen. He also didn't imagine Booth would want to see him right now, so it was probably better he wasn't here.
Brennan entered the room. "You're awake," she proclaimed. "How are you feeling?"
"Freezing," he replied. "Can someone call a nurse to find some blankets?"
"You're being given cooled IV fluids to combat the hyperthermia," Brennan explained. "Fortunately, the exposure in the shipping container didn't result in any organ failure or damage. It will take a while for your body's homeostasis to reset."
Aubrey swallowed that information. "Okay, that's good to hear."
"You should make a full recovery with rest and fluids," she added.
"Thanks. I hear you were instrumental in my rescue."
Brennan nodded, then shifted in apparent hesitation. "Angela, could you give us a minute?"
Angela blinked. "Oh, sure thing." She stood and gave Aubrey's hand a parting squeeze. "Feel better."
"You sure I can't have some blankets?" he asked.
"You feel cold but your body actually isn't," Brennan answered. "So, no. Sorry."
Angela gave him a sympathetic look and exited the room.
Aubrey eyed Brennan curiously now that they were alone. "Is everything okay?"
She took the seat Angela had vacated. "Booth hasn't told the FBI about his gambling connection to Colón."
Well, that was…precarious. He waited for her to go on.
Brennan took a breath. "I want to ask you not to mention it either. I'm afraid that if Booth loses his job, he won't have anything in his day-to-day life to help him keep fighting for his recovery. I also acknowledge that it's unfair to ask this of you when you almost died because of it."
"It's okay," Aubrey replied. "I get it." He appreciated that she recognized it was a heavy thing to ask, even though he was ready and willing to give her—and Booth—that without reservation. If Booth had continued gambling and that had led to this, he might feel differently, but that wasn't what happened. Some sleaze had tried to manipulate Booth because of his past, a past he was working to leave behind.
"I won't say anything," he promised.
Brennan looked relieved. "Thank you. You're a good friend."
Aubrey gave her a half smile. "No problem."
Aubrey was kept overnight for observation but was released from the hospital the following morning. As he was getting ready to leave, Booth showed up at his room.
"Hey, I heard you were getting released. I'll give you a ride home."
Aubrey shifted in slight awkwardness. "Thanks, but that's not necessary."
"I'm already here."
The discharge nurse arrived with a wheelchair, which Booth was quick to take from him and scoot over to Aubrey.
"I really don't need the wheelchair," he said.
"Hospital policy," the man replied.
"Hospital policy," Booth echoed.
Aubrey sighed and plopped down in the chair.
They were silent all the way to the elevator and then down to the first floor and out to the driveway where Aubrey could finally get up and walk on his own and the nurse took the wheelchair back. Aubrey waited until he and Booth were in the car to speak.
"Look, Booth, you don't have to worry; I'm not going to tell anyone about the gambling."
Booth flicked a side glance at him. "Thanks. That's really decent of you."
The uncomfortable silence resumed.
"I'm sorry about what I said yesterday," Booth broke it. "You are my friend. The best kind of friend, who calls me out when I need to face some hard truths. And I'm sorry I wasn't a good enough friend to listen. I should have listened back during the case and let you go undercover in the gambling ring." He shook his head to himself. "A lot of things wouldn't have happened if I had."
"You overcame your addiction before; you can do it again. And I'm here if you need anything."
"Thanks, Aubrey. You're a better friend than I deserve. I never would have forgiven myself if I'd gotten you killed over this."
"Your debt was paid, Booth," Aubrey reminded him. "What Colón tried to pull isn't on you. Any criminal could have tried it even without the gambling to hold over you."
"That…doesn't really make me feel better."
Aubrey just shrugged. "All in the line of duty."
Booth huffed, then asked, "You hungry?"
"Starving."
Booth grinned. "It's on me."