06x15 - The k*ller in the Crosshairs

[bunniefuu]

♪ I can read the writing on the wall ♪
♪ You pretend that nothing's changed at all ♪
♪ I've got just one thing to ask you ♪
♪ If it's so ♪
♪ Just take your memory with you when you go ♪

Here you are, sir. Thank you.

♪ So I won't have to think about ♪
♪ The lonely nights I'll be without ♪
♪ Someone to hold me when... ♪

(laughing) What are you doing here?

Ah, day off. Want some company?

You think you can keep up with me?

Hey, that's my line, Bones.

Oh, no, you don't!

♪ When you go ♪
♪ Take your memory with you ♪
♪ Just take your memory with you ♪
♪ When you go... ♪

Whoo!

I won!

What do you mean, you won? I got here first!

No, you took off before me by approximately two seconds, which means that you were both mentally and physically prepared before you accelerated. No, no.

You're not gonna science your way to a win, here.

I won, and you're buying the coffee.

Okay, listen. I'll buy the coffee, because I won, and I'm a gracious victor.

So, what are you doing on your day off? I don't know.

You still going to that, uh, lecture thingy for the, uh, what is it, the Peloponnesian w*r?

Yeah. Yes. Well, you know, if you want some company.

I, I don't think you'd like it. It's going to be very dry.

It's w*r, Bones.

(cell phone ringing)

Hey, Paula.

On my way to work.

No. I can't today, but I can meet you up at the cabin Friday night.

You kidding? No bother. Me, too.

(cell phone speed-dialing)

(cell phone ringing)

Yeah. Where are you? I said don't be late.

I have the package, I want to make the exchange, and get the hell out of here.

Sorry. I'm coming in from the north side.

Can you see me?

No, I don't.

(groans)

(rats squeaking)

(camera shutter snaps)

BRENNAN: The rats devoured the body in hours.

Heart-shaped superior inlet indicates the victim was male.

Suit was definitely a giveaway for me, Bones.

You know, I'm sorry we didn't make the lecture.

Oh, you must be disappointed.

I know how much you wanted to hear about Sparta supporting the rebels in lonia.

You wanted to hear about what?

Oh, Booth is a big fan of the Peloponnesian w*r.

He was coming with me to a lecture.

Oh, of course he was.

Why are you here?

Dead guy. And the fact that they've recovered over $150,000 so far.

Stuff like that makes a federal prosecutor like me all tingly. BOOTH: b*llet's made out of copper.

Why didn't the sh**t take all that money?

He's only interested in the k*ll.

Plus, it's handmade.

This was Broadsky. Broadsky the sn*per?

Your friend who k*lled the Gravedigger?

Look, he's not my friend, okay? We were in the service together.

The b*llet severed the C5.

Right. Severing the spinal cord from the brain stem is the gold standard for sn*pers.

We call it disconnecting the computer.

You can never have too many cute phrases for taking a life.

There are no other b*ll*ts around here. It was one sh*t.

Given the trajectory, b*llet came from over there.

Had to travel through all that piping and had to be precise enough to guarantee a k*ll.

Broadsky did this.

The ID says the victim was Walter Crane.

I bet this is someone we'd both be trying to put away.

It doesn't matter who this was.

sn*pers don't get to make the call, and Broadsky doesn't get to make the call.

This ends now. Broadsky is mine.

You're abnormally quiet today.

Thank you.

Usually by now, you'd have buried me in factoids about g*ns and historical assassinations.

Yes. For example, were you aware that...

Why are you pinching your lips shut? I find that it helps prevent me from blurting.

My sponsor believes that it's very important that I restrain my compulsion to use facts to keep people at arm's length. Emotionally.

And that I should actually be having more conversations like this, which I, I find... awkward.

Would it help if we turned to the case in front of us?

God, yes. Uh, cause of death is high-velocity trauma, resulting in the severing of the spinal cord, here.

Identification found on the remains suggests that this is a man named Walter Crane.

Walter Crane was born and raised in Virginia.

That's correct.

Look at the isotope ratios from his bone apatite.

Nitrogen levels suggest a Midwesterner.

I think we need Angela to do a facial reconstruction.

You would like to ascertain that this man is indeed Walter Crane, a construction worker from Virginia.

It appears that these remains and this identity do not correspond.

MAN: Hello, sweetness.

Dad!

Hi. I thought you were taking Europe by storm.

Well, if anybody asks, that's exactly what I'm doing.

Let me look at you.

You're one fine, fine woman.

Okay, Dad, what do you want?

Your first-born child.

You know, to a lot of people, that would totally freak them out.

I heard his name in one bad get-down, boogiein' blues number.

Isn't that exactly how you found my name?

Yes, it is, and that's a fact.

The name that I hated so much that I changed it as soon as I could?

It's still your name.

Not legally.

Well, what things are got nothing to do with legal or not legal. They just are.

Dad, traditionally, the father of the child does have some say over the name.

Well, sweetness, the child's name came to me in a song.

Between an E 7th heaven and A minor genius.

It was like hearing it from the lips of God himself.

All right.

That's true. I'll tell Hodgins.

Well, I guess if you feel you gotta, then... you gotta.

These are the bills found with the victim's body.

All hundreds, right? Yes.

But guess what I found on them.

Blood? On account that he was sh*t to death with a high-powered r*fle?

Yes, blood, of course, blood.

But guess what else I found.

Does this look like a guessing face?

Right. Okay.

Sodium hypochlorite.

Salt? No. Bleach.

Guy bleached his money? Yeah.

Why? You know who this is?

Abraham Lincoln. He's pretty famous. Yes, but hundred-dollar bills should feature Benjamin Franklin.

You see what happened here?

Yeah. I get it. These are counterfeit bills!

I got it. The counterfeiter bleaches five-dollar bills, and then reprints over it with much higher denominations.

Hodgins, I'm a federal agent. Okay?

I know how counterfeiting works.

They do that because it's much, much tougher to counterfeit the paper than the printing.

Okay. Yeah. I'm done.

Dead guy's a counterfeiter.

That makes sense, that Broadsky would go after a counterfeiter.

Why does that make sense? Hey! But why?!

CAROLINE: Seeley Booth. Yeah, that's me.

I checked it out with Witness Protection.

Our victim was in the program. Mmm.

Funny thing about Witness Protection... What's that?

It sort of comes with a built-in motive for m*rder attached, doesn't it?

(laughs) That's why they need protection.

Real name: Walter Coolidge.

All right. It makes sense that Broadsky would go after a guy like him.

That's right. Broadsky goes after bad guys.

Doesn't make him right.

Of course it doesn't make him right.

It just bleeds off a little of our motivation to catch him right away.

Coolidge flipped on Ortiz, and sent him to prison.

Is he still there? No.

Why? Thought he had life.

Ortiz isn't currently in prison because he's sitting in your interrogation room.

You're the best.

Tell me something I don't know.

Well, this is nice... getting out.

It's like a field trip, you know?

Remember him? ORTIZ: Sure.

He did some nice work for me.

Taking your drug-stained small bills and giving them new life as hundred-dollar bills?

I'm offended at the allegation.

I hired Walter as an art consultant.

He testified against you.

Said he saw you give the order to have three undercover operatives k*lled; Which testimony put you where you are today.

And look where that got him. Where did it get him?

Dead. Broadsky gave you some kind of proof? A photograph?

Come on, guys. Save yourself some pain, huh?

I'm in for triple-life.

Seems to me you know who this guy is.

You should just go get him. What do you need me for?

I need to know how you got in touch with him.

Why would I tell you?

I can arrange to have you transferred to a medium-security federal penitentiary.

And if you don't, she'll send you to Angola.

And no Internet, which I suspect is the spicy part of your sex life.

If I ever talked to this guy-- which I never did-- it's because he called me.

And if a target was suggested-- which it never was-- it's because it came from him, not from me.

What was the price? Money doesn't mean much to me in prison-- I forget.

He's going to do this again. You know that.

Somebody else is going to die.

I understand.

Someone as skilled as your sn*per likes to ply his trade, huh?

I wish I knew more, but all I did was answer the phone.

Now, when will I be moving to California?

Did I say California?

No.

BRENNAN: Why does it make sense to you that Broadsky k*lled a counterfeiter?

Counterfeiters are bad guys.

BOOTH: Look at Broadsky's victims.

I mean, they're all people who got away with something.

Who cares about his twisted motives?

The question is, how did Broadsky even know where to find Coolidge?

He was supposed to be in Witness Protection.

Okay, if Broadsky has an inside man at the U.S. Marshals' Office, he'd definitely be able to track down Coolidge or the Gravedigger.

But you said that Broadsky works alone.

Isn't that what sn*pers do?

Wow. Really? You're gonna say it like that?

Okay, not all sn*pers are the same.

I am not him.

Nothing I said made any such allusion.

CAROLINE: Okay, okay, kids.

Let's take a breath.

There are only 18 marshals in the D.C. office.

I'll have their files pulled, and we'll see if any of them have a connection to Broadsky.

BOOTH: Great.

MONTENEGRO: This is just what happens, Hodgins.

He picks the baby's name.

It's a family tradition.

And you're okay with that?

I didn't even think about it.

But it's-it's our kid, Ange. Ours.

And he's my dad.

He's our dad now.

Who gave you a name that is so terrible you had to change it.

Listen, honey, I would not fight him on this.

He is a Texas Twister, and you can't win. This is what you really want?

We don't even know what name he's chosen.

You might love it.

Don't you think that we should wait and hear what it is?

Listen, the last thing I want to do is get between you and your father.

Good. But...

But? Hey. Mind if I join you?

Hey, Sweets. No. Please.

I actually have a question for you.

Oh, great. sh**t. Probably not a term I should use during a m*rder investigation, huh?

Right. Anyway, Angela's father...

Oh, God. What?

Are you gonna ask me some interpersonal family question...?

Is that so strange?

You are a shrink. HODGINS: He wants to name our baby.

We're not supposed to have any input.

Now, that is weird, right?

(sighs) Um...

Well, you know, it's-it's complicated, of course, as all family issues are.

I... No, I'd rather not sh**t from the hip on this one.

Perhaps some research and reflection...

Oh, you are avoiding this.

SWEETS: No. No, I'd just be remiss if I didn't consult my books, you know?

I have so many books.

You are afraid of him.

Come on. Afraid?

Am I...? Yes, I'm afraid.

He is a very sweet man.

He kidnapped Hodgins, and gave him a tattoo while he was unconscious, Angela.

Yeah, but he-he loves that tattoo now.

Don't you, babe?

I don't... I have a lot of work to do.

I'm gonna get takeout or something.

You are running away.

I'm walking.

Listen, I think what Sweets is saying is that you should just give this one up.

I mean, we're gonna love this kid so much that the name isn't gonna matter at all.

I can't find any U.S. marshal who worked on both the Gravedigger case and Broadsky's latest victim.

Yeah, well, anyone with high enough security clearance could definitely access the files.

Wait a second.

Paula Ashwaldt.

Bones, I might have something.

Yeah. This marshal served in the Fourth Brigade Combat Team in Afghanistan.

Well, nothing in Broadsky's file mentions the Fourth Brigade Combat Team.

Well, it's amazing what the official record doesn't show, especially when it comes to sn*pers.

BRENNAN: Paula Ashwaldt.

See this action?

It got her the Purple Heart.

There's no mention of a sn*per.

Broadsky was there.

Her unit came under att*ck.

He saved their bacon.

How do you know?

'Cause he told me.

That's our girl.

If Broadsky did this, he-he did it on his own.

Yup. Outside the command structure.

Saved 12 soldiers' lives, including Paula Ashwaldt.

You admire him.

For his actions there, yeah.

Not for what he's doing now.

I got to talk to this Paula Ashwaldt.

Corporal Ashwaldt.

Special Agent Booth, FBI.

I'd like to ask you a few questions.

Miss Ashwaldt.

I'm not in the service anymore.

Is there a problem?

I'm afraid there is.

You've been in contact with a Jacob Broadsky?

I-I'm sorry.

I'm not supposed to talk to law enforcement without a supervisor present.

I don't know if that would be a really good idea, 'cause the information you have provided Mr. Broadsky has resulted in the death of at least three people.

Yeah. I have no idea what you're talking about, Agent Booth.

You owe him your life. I understand.

I know what that means.

I was in the m*llitary, too.

But what he's doing now-- he's a m*rder*r.

Please get out of my way.

See this woman? He k*lled her because she was in the way.

No other reason. You helped him do that.

Look at her. She was 29.

This is what he did to her.

She was saving to go back to school.

I-I didn't know.

His target was Taffet, the Gravedigger.

She was a monster, but Jacob promised no one else would be hurt.

He k*lled someone two days ago.

(sighs): Oh, God.

Did you ever leave him alone with your computer?

I... I trusted him.

I need a name. It could be anyone.

There are thousands of names in those files.

Thousands.

I know you have to take me in, but maybe you could give me time-- one soldier to another-- to do the right thing?

You find anything, anything at all, you call me.

Of course.

BOOTH: Asaldt said that Broadsky's been using her cabin because he likes to hunt. Well, that's an understatement.

Well, she's going through her database right now to see what files might have been tampered with.

We're going to get this guy, and he's not going to keep doing this.

Your words are quite ironic. What do you mean?

I imagine Broadsky would say the same thing as he st*lks his prey.

Except I'm the good guy, he isn't.

Well, but you both led a life in which you were paid to take lives.

Why are you doing this?

I'd just like to understand.

I admire your certainty, but since good and bad are such subjective concepts, how could you ever be sure you were doing the right thing?

Okay, well, it's not subjective to me.

I mean, there's good, and there's evil.

Life is all about taking sides, and Broadsky-- well, he joined the wrong team.

You think Broadsky's here?

I'm not gonna take any chances, okay?

You just stay in the car. What?

Just stay in the car.

(ravens cawing)

Please, Bones, just get back in the car!

Those ravens are carrion birds.

(cawing)

That's fascinating.

Will you get back in the car now?

Why? Broadsky isn't here.

If he were, first order logic tells us that we'd either be dead or in a sh**t.

Stop that! What are you doing?

What? Get back in the car.

If he were present, he'd sh**t, wouldn't he?

Just... Bones, will you get back in the car?

What are you...? Bones?

There must be meat nearby. That's why the birds are here.

That wall is very unusual.

It seems primitive in design.

It's like someone built a hallway in the middle of nowhere.

(wings fluttering)

Odd way to hunt.

Fragmentation along the skull seems to be consistent with some type of expl*si*n.

How did he make this sh*t?

What kind of rounds did he use?

It's like he was using the deer as target practice.

Which means he's planning another k*ll.

(phone rings) Booth.

Right.

Paula Ashwaldt just k*lled herself at her desk.

Please tell me that this meat is not human.

No, it's venison.

We found it frozen in the su1c1de victim's cabin freezer.

I'm confused.

Are we investigating a m*rder, or preparing lunch for the Palin family?

Booth believes Broadsky was practicing.

Decomposition suggests that this deer was k*lled approximately 48 hours ago.

Oh, and the deer was k*lled with a shotgun.

Notice the metal fragments scattered throughout the flesh.

sn*pers don't tend to use shotguns, Mr. Nigel-Murray.

What w*apon, aside from a shotgun, fired at very close range, could cause this type of fragmentation?

Finding the answer starts with asking the correct question.

You just asked the correct question.

I'll map and remove the fragments, take them to Hodgins, see what the, uh, physical makeup can tell us.

(sighs)

Hi, Booth.

Jacob.

Welcome to my home.

Can I get you anything?

I just want to talk for a minute.

You want to talk.

Talk about what?

Paula.

Yeah, I heard.

What did you say to make Paula k*ll herself?

Must have been very mean-spirited.

You think that's my fault?

Yeah.

Funny thing is, so do you.

You never could stand the idea of collateral damage.

Do me a favor.

You either sh**t me, or you get the hell out of my house.

You and me both-- we've always been on the same side.

No, you're off the reservation, pal.

You want to do the right thing, you give me that g*n, and you let me take you in.

I'll tell you what.

The day I wake up and there are no more bad people that need k*lling, you're the one I come to.

I'm coming after you, Jacob.

It's my job.

There's something you should consider, Booth.

Of all the people that have d*ed in our little clash of wills, Paula was the only good person.

I really liked her.

And you're the reason she's dead.

So tell me, standing in front of God, which one of us will be judged more harshly?

And here I thought you were a Buddhist.

What I'm saying is: My conscience is clear.

That's the problem.

I'm coming after you, I'm gonna catch you, and next time I have you in my sights, I'm not aiming for your knees.

Good to know, because if that moment comes, I will not hesitate to make that sweet son of yours fatherless.

He'll be the collateral damage.

(door opens and closes)

He was in your apartment?

Yes.

Why didn't you, I don't know, jump up and judo-karate-kung fu the man?

The guy was holding a g*n on me.

He doesn't miss.

Maybe that's what he came there for-- you know, that thing where a k*ller wants to get caught and punished for his wicked, wicked ways.

No, he doesn't have that; He would have sh*t me, and if he gets another chance, he's gonna take me out.

Cher, did the man get to you?

You know what? It would actually help if you wanted to put the man in prison.

Oh, I most definitely do.

Well, you're the one who says that you can't argue with the choices that Broadsky makes on who he's gonna sh**t.

Yeah, I can't fault that, but now the man has crossed a line.

Causing a su1c1de? No.

Man sneaks into your house, threatens you with a g*n.

That's unforgivable.

He should get lethally injected just for that.

BRENNAN: Hodgins says the fragments are titanium with some tungsten and other alloys.

Yeah, typical b*llet stuff.

But it is not a b*llet, correct?

It's a mass of pellets?

Well, no, look at this.

Oh, it is a b*llet.

Yeah, looks like it, although it's big-- .110 caliber minimum.

I mean, any larger and we'd have to call this thing a shell.

How does a single b*llet fragment into 154 fragments?

Well, at first I thought that it must have been a ricochet, but look at the tip.

BRENNAN: There's no sign of impact.

Right. So what kind of b*llet fragments before it hits anything?

What's this?

It appears to be the remnants from some kind of circuitry that Vincent dug out of the deer meat.

What if the circuitry is part of the b*llet?

I mean, this is a computer chip.

You can program it.

Which suggests you can program the b*llet.

Yeah, which means we're looking at something from the future.

Time travel is physically impossible.

Yeah, but so is a b*llet that you can program like a computer.

Like we didn't have it bad enough with the old kind.

Agent Booth. Is this a bad time?

No, no, come in.

Look, I don't want you to think that I have a problem here, okay?

Okay. I just need to talk some things out because I'm starting to talk to myself, and I'm sounding like a loon.

Sure, have a seat.

It's this, uh, you know, this whole thing with, with Broadsky.

Bones keeps equating me with him 'cause, you know, 'cause we were sn*pers and, you know, we're the same.

Mm-hmm.

Hey, you're supposed to say, "No, you're not the same."

Do you actually think I view you and Broadsky the same way?

I never wanted to pull the trigger.

Do you understand me?

It was a w*r, it was a necessity, that was my responsibility.

I understand. It was a terrible act for the greater good.

Now, why does Bones question that?

Does she really, or are you questioning it?

Why are you asking me questions?

Didn't I just say I just wanted to come in here and talk some things out?

Just hear me out for a second here.

Okay.

(sighs)

I don't get it.

Broadsky was a good man.

I don't understand what happened to him.

I mean, what gives him the right to make these kind of calls?

Would you like me to answer that?

Sure, yeah, I would love an answer, yeah, that's why I'm here.

Being the cause of someone's death, no matter what the circumstances, leaves a man with a great burden, and people deal with that burden in different ways.

You know, some, some celebrate it.

They relish the power as a way of justifying what they have done.

Others, like Broadsky-- they justify another way.

They feel that it's their destiny to mete out justice.

They convince themselves that they have the moral high ground to make these calls.

It's the only way they can live with what they've done.

What about me?

From my perspective, you're a healthy man.

You can accept what you've done and the pain and sadness and regret that comes with it.

You know, not everybody has the strength to deal with that reality.

It's a testament to you that you've built this life with family and friends who love and respect you.

Booth, that can't be easy.

It kills me that Bones thinks that taking someone's life means nothing to me.

Have you talked to her about it?

I don't go there anymore.

That's over.

Okay.

You got to get back to work and then I have to get back to work, too, all right?

If you need me again, Booth...

Thanks, really, I got what I needed.

Okay, so I got this demo from the Department of Defense.

Now, this has to be the b*llet that Broadsky used.

It's called a smart b*llet.

More like a b*mb.

Well, essentially it is.

It matches the damage to the deer's skull.

The r*fle is an AM-40.

You set the distance you want the b*llet to detonate.

I'm sorry, why would anyone want a b*llet to explode in midair?

Well, here's why.

The r*fle is perfect for fighting insurgents in Afghanistan.

BRENNAN: That's how he managed the impossible sh*t on the practice range and why he built walls in the middle of a field.

Broadsky's next target must be in a location that's difficult to access.

Otherwise, he wouldn't need this w*apon.

There's one little problem.

This b*llet has a diameter of 25 millimeters.

The diameter of the b*llet we recovered is 20 millimeters.

And the circuitry we found was custom-made.

You mean Broadsky made the w*apon himself?

Booth says it's too sophisticated, even for Broadsky.

Glad you could stop by.

I'm sure you are.

So, about the baby's name...

Right, it came to me during a song.

Can't be more perfect than that, can it?

I'm sure it must be very meaningful... for you.

This is what Angie wants, you know.

Well, I... I know that this is, you know, what, what you want Angie to want, and since she loves you, she wants it, and since I love her, I'm trying to, to want it, too, because I want to make her happy.

Well, that's probably good enough.

So the name that came to you?

It could work for either a boy or a girl.

That's the beauty part.

(sighs) Great.

Staccato Mamba.

Staccato Mamba?

(sighs)

(chuckles)

Yeah, yeah, I-I didn't see that one coming.

You want to know what it means?

No, no, that's okay because it's not going to happen.

Now, look, you can, you can att*ck me with dogs, okay, you can burn me with a branding iron, hell, you can make me listen to a musical.

I don't care, but we are not naming our child Staccato Mamba.

You know what you're doing here, right?

You have a child named Staccato Mamba.

We'll have Michael Joseph, if it's a boy or Katherine Temperance if it's a girl.

Michael or Katherine?

That's right.

(growls)

(muttering): Michael or Katherine.

I-I'll be going... for now.

Oh, God.

(door opens)

Mr. Winkler, I'm Caroline Julian with the Justice Department.

Seeley here assures me you're the sweetest, most considerate arms dealer he has ever met.

Actually, I'm more of an arms maker.

Oh, and did you make a smart b*llet prototype for Jacob Broadsky?

In my line of work, discretion is paramount.

Discretion can also be an accessory to m*rder.

I know my law, Seeley.

I can't be charged for simply selling amm*nit*on.

Well, you see, cher, I am the law and I can charge your scrawny ass with whatever I want.

I like the challenge.

I'm a patriot.

Do you remember when you and Jacob were first deployed to Iraq and the army didn't have enough body armor for its soldiers?

The Kevlar vest I made you-- how many rounds did that absorb?

We're not talking about that now.

I believe it was three.

Thank you card would have been nice.

Problem is, Broadsky's not active m*llitary.

Well, he's on loan out for a special assignment.

Yeah, I did my due diligence.

I saw the paperwork.

He probably could have shown you phony passports, too.

You'd accept anything that could make you a little money.

Now it's a crime to be a capitalist in America?

He's k*lled three people so far, three.

Counting the service, a lot more than that if memory serves.

How many for you, Seeley, huh?

Really, you want me to add you to the list?

(stammering)

This is abuse.

I don't see anything.

Must have something in my eye.

You give me something on Broadsky or I swear I will make your life a living hell.

And I'll put you out of business.

You'll be recycling Kalashnikovs in a hut in Sudan.

I don't know where he is.

All he told me were the specs I needed to design the b*llet.

Which were?

Draw.

It was going to be used in a rectangular room, 30 feet long by 18 feet.

It has marble paneling and a marble floor and a ceiling-- 12 feet high, made of copper.

It has a window on this wall-- one by four feet, the bottom sill eight feet off the floor.

When did he pick up the b*ll*ts?

He didn't.

I dropped them off in a locker at the bus station.

When?

He said he needed them by today.

That doesn't give us much time, cherie.

I've taken the parameters of the room and cross-referenced them with architectural plans on file with D.C.

There have to be tens of thousands.

Yeah.

Using the materials that Winkler described, it narrows down to a building that had to be constructed before 1939.

Wait a minute.

Marble, copper ceiling, before 1939.

Yeah. The parameters are all in there.

I know where it is.

You do?

It's the women's bathroom in the federal courthouse.

Well, I'm sure there are other...

CAROLINE: Yep, that's the one.

All right, Bones. What do you think?

It fits the measurements exactly.

The cladding and the floor are both marble.

The ceiling is copper.

I think Caroline was right. This is the place.

Right. So this bathroom serves two courtrooms.

Shouldn't we evacuate the building?

No. If we do that, Broadsky, he's just gonna take off.

You know, he's going to wait for another chance.

You know, sn*pers are patient.

Like you. All right. So, right now, we know the where. We pretty much know the when.

(dials phone) We just got to figure out the who.

We can look through the dockets and identify possible targets using Sweets' profile. It's gonna take too long.

Angela, did you do your thing yet?

I've got the courthouse, and I entered the elevation and distance of Broadsky's practice sh*t.

The computer is looking for it now.

Okay, got it.

There is one location that matches the practice sh*t.

It's a rooftop at Riggs and 18th.

Riggs and 18th?

Thanks. Riggs and 18th.

That's where Broadsky's going to set up.

Let's go. Okay. Wait.

Where-Where are we going? Roof.

No, you're going the wrong way, Booth.

I got to get to my vehicle. I got to get my r*fle.

Wait. Shouldn't we call in SWAT and helicopters?

No, no. We do that, Broadsky is gone.

You got to trust me on this one.

Booth.

I want to ask you a question, but I find it makes me anxious.

Okay, well, go.

Forget it.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a second.

Partners don't say "forget it."

Okay.

Here's my question.

Are you doing this so you can k*ll Broadsky or because it's the best way to stop him?

It's the only way. Listen, Bones.

You got to trust me on this one.

Trust that I'm going to do the right thing.

I trust you.

Let's go.

(beeping)

Caroline is asking if we see anything.

The answer's still no, and tell her to stop asking.

Booth says, "stop asking."

I don't wait well. I'm an action person.

Waiting makes my teeth hurt.

Her teeth hurt.

Okay.

Nothing.

Maybe we're in the wrong place.

Or the wrong time.

Maybe Angela got it wrong.

Or Broadsky saw us?

No, I doubt that.

Well, the courtrooms are both clear now.

Nothing here except for a few lawyers, and bailiffs, like that.

The courtrooms are clear now.

No defendants?

BRENNAN: No defendants?

No female defendants.

There's a female defense attorney.

There's a female defense attorney.

Any high-profile cases?

Did she set some psycho free?

Any high-profile cases?

No. She's just some lackey from a big firm.

This is the first case she's handling alone.

She's no one important.

Who is she defending? I mean, what did he do?

Who is she defending?

Um, Gregory Allen.

Corrupt cop.

Charged with bribery, accessory to m*rder.

Looks to me like he's looking to plead out.

Ooh, a bad cop named Allen, bribery and m*rder charges.

Can we just put her on speaker phone?

What's the story?

Says here he took a bribe not to arrest a hit and run driver who k*lled a woman and two kids.

That sounds like Broadsky's target.

Why would Broadsky focus on the women's bathroom if his target is a man?

(groans)

Booth? Yeah?

Architecture is often much like the human body.

What are you getting at? There's a certain symmetry, anterior, posterior.

There's a mirror image.

Of course. The men's bathroom looks just like the women's bathroom.

Caroline, the target is the men's bathroom.

We're going to the other side of the building.

There he is.

I got Broadsky.

He's definitely going after the cop.

I'm going to need you to be my spotter.

No, I'm not trained for that type of work.

Come on, Bones. For God's sake.

You're brilliant. Just pick up the range finder.

Okay? Look through it.

Find Broadsky, and just give me a read.

382 yards, 18 inches. Temperature?

54 degrees Fahrenheit.

Okay, the bad cop is on the move, heading toward the bathroom.

Wind speed here... I feel it on my cheek.

I estimate five miles per hour, coming from the south.

Okay, Bones. I need wind velocity on Broadsky there.

You see a flag? Anything.

Booth, I don't... I don't see anything.

CAROLINE: Bogey is in the can.

I repeat, Bogey is in the can.

There's got to be something. There's always something.

BRENNAN: I-I don't know. I don't...

Five miles an hour, intermittent, from the southwest.

(groans)

You did it. Did you... Did you hit Broadsky?

(grunts)

Only had a clear sh*t at his w*apon.

22705, requesting assistance.

Look, I need a ten-block perimeter for a m*rder suspect.

sh*ts fired. Suspect is armed and dangerous.

(over speaker): Roger that. Do you think the police will be able to catch him?

No. No. We missed him.

He's long gone.

(grunting)

You with us, son?

What happened?

Same old, same old.

Celebratory tequila.

It don't sit well with you, boy.

(groans)

Ah, ah, ah.

(gasping)

I tried to talk you out of it, but you insisted.

No. No, I didn't.

You said it was a sign of your gratitude.

Gratitude? For what?

That I conceded the right for you to name your children whatever boring, non-inspirational name you like.

(laughing)

You like that I stood up to you.

You don't seem to be doing any kind of standing up at the moment.

Till next time.

(groans)

(car door closes, engine revs)

(phone line rings)

Angie?

Uh, you're gonna have to come and get me.

Tequila.

Your dad.

But we won.

(groaning)

(sobbing)

BOOTH: Look,

Broadsky needed to be caught or k*lled.

I messed up. All right? He's still out there.

But so are we.

Most importantly, you.

What's that supposed to mean?

That eventually, you will get him.

Why are you angry at me?

Forget it.

No. You can't say "forget it" to your partner. You taught me that.

I just...

I don't like the idea that my partner thinks that me and Jacob Broadsky are alike.

You are similar in many ways.

Great. Thanks, Bones.

But not in the most important way.

How...

How can I put this in a way that you will understand?

Why don't you try and say it in teeny tiny words?

Oh... Okay.

Broadsky is bad.

You... are good.

That's as simply as I can put it.

All right. You don't believe in absolutes like "good" or "bad."

All right? You think it's where people stand.

From where I stand, you are good, and Broadsky's bad.

Thanks for standing there, Bones.

I'm standing right beside you, Booth.

Like always.

Like I always will.

I'm being metaphoric, of course.

Because we are currently sitting.

(chuckles) Thank goodness.

'Cause I thought I'd shrunk.

(both chuckling)

That's funny, because you made a joke based on relative position, which goes back thematically to our discussion of situational morality.

That's not why it's funny. Tell me another one.

You got another joke?

No!