Catching the Gravedigger II Bones

Catching the Gravedigger

Eight of twelve hours left...

Seely Booth paced back and forth in Brennan's office. Right now, Brennan should have been safe in her own home, by now, Booth would have picked up a few boxes of Chinese takeout, and by now, the partners would have been sitting cross legged on her carpet arguing over who finished the fried rice. 

But no. Nothing had gone according to plan that night. 

Right now, Booth and Brennan's entire team was assembled with eight hours remaining to locate and save Brennan and Hodgins. They had grown so accustomed to killers on the run, a revenge murder and then taking off followed by trying to blend themselves in plain sight, never posing a legitimate threat to society again. The FBI agent and forensic anthropologist witnessed  child molesters, illegal street fighters, even jealous pageant kids. Any ridiculous excuse for murder a mundane could think of was a case they already solved.

But they've never dealt with a killer who could effectively put a price on human life.

By now, the entire team had a little less than eight hours to muster $8,000,000 and deposit the sum into an untraceable bank account. Finding the money was easy, Jack was born into the Hodgins family. The Hodgins family owned the Cantilever Group, the single largest investor of the Jeffersonian Institution and the group that is said to generate more GNP than Europe. Imagine Jack to be rich to the power of four multiplied by nine squared, was how Zack had described it. If really taken under consideration, Jack Hodgins, aka 'Bug Boy' was really all of their bosses. 

But the downfall of Jack running this group was his own rule, no sign of life equals no ransom. Right now, there was no evidence to prove that neither Temperance Brennan or Jack Hodgins were alive, thus causing the Cantilever to refuse to provide the FBI or the Jeffersonian with the sufficient amount of money. 

The prime suspect went by the name of the 'Gravedigger,' a serial kidnapper notorious for abducting and burying his victims, giving them approximately a day of air supply and demanding ransom from their family members based on their annual income. Had they failed to provide the ransom, the victims would die. If they successfully manage to pay off the kidnapper, clear instructions were provided to find and save them. Negotiation was not in the question with the Gravedigger, short calls are made and voice mails are left with brief instructions, nothing further. In short, pay up or they die. Trying to trace the phone number would result in finding an inactive phone number to a Russian bread company. 

Prior to their abduction, the Jeffersonian team accompanied by Booth had been investigating the remains of two of the Gravedigger's victims, Ryan and Matthew Kent, twins. The team came to the conclusion that the culprit had slipped up during his abduction when they discovered Matthew's cracked pelvis bone. The original intention was to only kidnap Ryan, seal him in a spaceship-resembling vault, and bury him. Matthew came into play trying to defend his brother, resulting in being run over by the Gravedigger and being sealed alongside his brother. Thus cutting down their air supply in half, and declining their survival time of twenty four hours to twelve. 

According to the security footage in the parking lot and blood stains left at the scene of the crime, Hodgins had came to this conclusion and rushed to tell Temperance before she left, to find her being abducted by the grave digger. This resulted in a repeat of the culprit's last kidnapping and being forced to run Jack over, leaving a pool of fresh blood for the forensics team to investigate. 

Seven of twelve hours left...

Temperance Brennan awoke with her head pounding and her neck in excruciating pain. Where am I? What the hell happened?

Observing her surroundings, she concluded that she was locked in a car. In the midst of trying to unlock it, the events leading up to her kidnapping were slowly making its way back to her. I was walking to my car. The car handles were stuck. I heard the sound of shuffling feet behind me and a hooded figure was reflected on my car window. The car would not unlock. I didn't have time to turn. The windows could be rolled down with a little more effort. I was shocked multiple times in the back of the neck with his own adaptation of a stun gun. The window slowly but surely started to roll down. I tried to- dirt. Bucket loads of dirt came pooling in, and while in a fit of coughs Temperance rushed to roll the window back up. I'm buried alive.