Bones (2005–2017): Season 5, Episode 2 - The Bond in the Boot - full transcript

A Rolex? They just gave you a Rolex?

Well, my book was number one
on the best-seller list for 12 weeks.

It sold 630,000 copies.

They're, you know,
showing their appreciation.

Wow. So, that means that you made...

Well, I don't really know
how much, actually,

but I was told I'll never have to work again.

Wow. Booth. What?

No! Slow down, pal.
That is extortion right there.

What? No. No, forget it.
No, there's no way I'm paying that. Bye.

Some plumber.
He wants to charge me 800 bucks



to fix the plumbing in my walls.
Forget it. I'll do it myself.

Well, that should be no problem.

You've told me numerous times
how skilled you are as a repairman.

Right, well, since after the coma,
I seem to have forgotten a few things.

I'm gonna have to figure out
how to do it myself, all over again.

- I could lend you some money.
- That's okay, Ms. Rolex, I'll be fine.

- Well, if you change your mind...
- I'm all right.

This is exactly why I hate cats, right there.

They're feral.
They're natural scavengers.

Hodgins is going to have to sift
through their excrement for evidence.

Right, don't want to take
his fun away from him, huh?

I need all these cats brought
back to the Jeffersonian.

- Come on. Shoo. Shoo.
- Puss, puss, pussy...

- Move!
- Kitty, kitty, kitty.



Hey, hey, get out of there!

The victim is an adult male, Caucasian.

Bullet wounds to both the sternum
and the third left rib.

Hand is severed just below the radius.

Barely anything left of this guy.
How long has he been out here?

From the degree of scavenging,
I'd say two days. Come on.

Hey, you, parking guy.

- You the guy who found him?
- Yeah.

My partner here says that
he has been Kitty Kibble for two days.

Why didn't you notice him sooner?

This structure is long-term parking.
Roof isn't used much.

People don't like their cars
baking in the sun, you know.

- Security cameras around here?
- Somebody cut the feed.

- Booth?
- Yeah?

He suffered comminuted fractures
to the femur.

Right, he broke his leg. I get it.

Somebody ran over him after he was shot.

Hey, you, do me a favor
and pull some paint samples

- off that speed bump, okay?
- Okay.

Why are the cats staring at us?

Michelle's been asking for months
if we can get a kitten.

I'm thinking no.

Actually, it's much more likely
the family dog would attack

and consume its owner.

Can you pass me the forceps?
I think I see something.

It appears to be steel wool.
I found it in the exit wound.

Steel wool, commonly used in silencers
to muffle the sound of a gunshot.

A silencer definitely points
to a professional hit.

An Ilizarov apparatus was used to
lengthen his bone when he was a child,

so he was definitely Russian.

Don't people limp in every country?

Prior to 1981,
the Ilizarov apparatus was used

exclusively in the Soviet Union.
Ergo, dead Russian.

Very good, Mr. Bray.

Yeah, don't often get to say "ergo."

And, for bonus points, any clue
why his hand was chopped off?

The bone has been chipped
and bruised around the triquetral,

like someone was trying
to pull something off his wrist.

And when they couldn't,
they cut off his hand.

Wendell, my man, we still on for lunch?

You are discussing lunch
while holding a tray of cat excrement.

Everybody poops.
They even wrote a book about it.

I found a piece of plastic in the cat's feces

from a bag of airline peanuts.

- Aeroflot.
- Yep.

Preferred airline of Mother Russia.

Looks like our Russian friend
was a recent arrival.

Yuri Antonov.

He's a courier for a Ukraine
diamond manufacturer.

That's it? Why are you
State Department guys all over this?

Because that's not it.

What is "it"?
What else do you have for me?

I was told to assess
whether you'd be the best agent

with whom to entrust
some very sensitive information.

This is my case.

State is supervising, Agent Booth. We...

I approve the investigator.

Oh, you, I... Okay, an ex-Army Ranger
with multiple commendations

and a pristine record at the FBI
isn't good enough for you or them?

You shot a clown.

It was a mechanical clown.

You're telling me
you never wanted to do that?

This one has to be done with discretion.

I mean, it's not just your career.
It's mine, too.

I mean, you're old, but I'm still...

- Here.
- Right.

Sit down.

Antonov went missing
after arriving three days ago

from Dulles International.

These photos were taken as he passed
through the diplomatic checkpoint.

Well, that doesn't make any sense.

I mean, why would a diamond courier
have diplomatic clearance?

That's why this is so sensitive.
State didn't authorize a diplomatic visa.

What about the briefcase?
It wasn't found on the body.

Are you sure
we're dealing with diamonds here?

We're not sure of anything,
but we have to assume the worst.

That's why this is being treated
as a national security threat.

What about the diamonds?
Have they been recovered?

All right, well, we think
that Antonov's hand was severed

in order to steal the briefcase.

Of course.

He was carrying $2 million worth of gems
from our mine in Siberia.

How did your courier manage
to get cleared

past the diplomatic checkpoint?

- The diplomatic?
- Yeah.

- No, you must be mistaken.
- I'm mistaken? No. Look at that.

See, look. There he is on the approach.

And that's him clearing
the diplomatic checkpoint.

Briefcase.

I don't understand.

As you can see,
all the paperwork was in order.

There should have been
no complications at Customs.

We have couriers bringing in stones
all the time.

Do you work with Antonov a lot?

This was the first time.

Well, we're going to need
all your import and export information

from the company,

and any other information
you might have on Mr. Antonov.

Of course.

Every courier is thoroughly checked out.

There are psychological profiles,
recommendations from past employers.

- You can have it all.
- All right.

Any reason Antonov wouldn't want
Customs to see the diamonds?

No.

Unless he wasn't carrying diamonds.

I loaded the victim's x-rays
into the simulator.

Now, looking at the fracture lines,

the computer should be able to determine

the weight of the car that ran him over.

Ooh! Ouch!

According to this, the car weighed
approximately 3,700 pounds,

which gives us 152 possible vehicles.

The paint from the speed bump
is called Tungsten Silver. Ooh.

Trade name: Casino Royale.
Might narrow things down a bit.

Hey, have you two seen Dr. Brennan?

Yeah, I think she's with Booth. Why?

It appears Mr. Bray
has lost his scholarship.

No scholarship means no internship
at the Jeffersonian.

What? Well, how did that happen?

Apparently, the trust
that funds his scholarship

ran out of financing
because of the economic mess.

That stinks. I like Wendell.

Hey, we got drunk together last week.
That carries great meaning for men.

He's one of us. Even Booth likes him.

- Well, how did he react?
- I haven't told him yet.

I want to see
if there are other funding options.

What's that?

- Hey!
- Dude! What's new?

Since you saw me on
the forensic platform five minutes ago,

- not much.
- Great.

- You?
- Nothing.

- Nada from here.
- Zippo on my end.

Well, it appears you have a match
for the car that ran over our victim.

- That's new, isn't it?
- Yes, I do.

Yes, you are something, Wendell.
You really are.

- Unbelievable.
- That's crazy.

Casino Royale and that car?

That is Bond's car. James Bond.

Those wheels and a silencer...

You haven't, by any chance,
found evidence of a martini?

Shaken, not stirred, of course.

You believe James Bond
killed our Russian?

Well, no, but come on,

there was more than a grain of truth
in those Bond films.

Pussy Galore? That's never gonna happen.

Well, we can always hope.

Boys and their spy fantasies.

I'll tell Booth to
put out a search for the car.

Trust me, Angela, nothing is as it seems.

I know. I actually thought you guys
were a little too psyched to see me

when I came in here.

What, we can't be
excited to see you, Wendell?

You got some intimacy issues there, man.

So, Sweets, come up with a profile yet?

Antonov a spy?

No, still putting the pieces together.

Whatever he says is a guess.

No, it's a subjective evaluation

based on quantifiable
psychological markers, okay?

Do we have to go through this every time?

He may as well be telling stories
around a campfire.

Anyone want some s'mores?

Okay, all of Antonov's answers from
his psych evaluation are too perfect.

No one is this perfect.

Now that, coupled with the fact that
he had an unexplained diplomatic cover

and was killed by a professional

would lead any reasonable person
to conclude that...

He's a spy.

- Spy-ish.
- Booth.

Oh, great, I'll pick it up this afternoon.
No, no, no.

It's not Pilates for Dummies,
it's Plumbing for Dummies. All right?

- Get back to me. Thank you.
- Why won't you let me help you, Booth?

I just want to fix the leak in my wall,
that's all.

I mean, I'm very capable of doing it myself.

With a Dummies book? Is that wise?

Since the coma, Booth can't remember
how to take care of his own plumbing.

That's great. You make it sound like
I gotta wear diapers.

I offered to lend him money
for a professional plumber.

I just received a very large check
from my publisher.

- Ah!
- "Ah!" There goes the "ah."

You had to bring this up. Great. Thanks.

Well, a very large disparity in income

can often have a detrimental effect
on a relationship.

No, this doesn't.

I just get more satisfaction
on relearning an old skill

instead of paying a plumber $800.

- Okay.
- Yeah.

What was that supposed to mean?

Nothing. I accept what you're saying.

- Booth. Okay, great, we're on our way.
- What, the book?

Found the killer's vehicle.
I will pull the car around.

You can buy breakfast, okay, Ms. Rolex?

- You want my advice?
- No.

Okay, if you really want to help Booth,

you should let him teach you
about plumbing.

I'm a wealthy, accomplished woman.

Why would I want to learn a menial skill?

Well, for Booth, so he can regain
whatever he feels he's lost.

I think, for once, it would be beneficial
if you were the student.

The car's registered to
a high-class rent-a-car service.

It was leased using a corporate credit card.

Universal Exports.
We're tracking them down now.

Whoa!

It is Bond's car, Bones!

- Booth?
- Yeah.

I see superficial lesions
on the lateral anterior surface.

No, no, no. Bones,
what you see there are scratch marks

on the front bumper, okay?

People have skeletons.
Cars, they have chassis. Okay?

Gas tank, stomach.

And here, this shattered window
proves that there was gunfire.

The ballistics guy dug the bullet
out of the dash.

He said it was fired
from at least 500 feet away.

So, someone was staking him out, huh?

- Booth?
- Yeah.

I think the car is bleeding.

No, no, no. Bones, a car has oil. That's oil.

No, this is blood.

It is blood.

Thank you.

Whoa! Okay. That is gonna kill
the Blue Book value.

The body is three to four days old.

The heat in the trunk
is causing the skin to liquefy.

So, cause of death?

There's too much flesh.
This is Cam's department.

- Look at this.
- What do you got there?

That is a Walther PPK.

It's Bond's gun.

- Booth?
- Yeah.

I hate to admit this,
but I think Sweets was right.

The victim was CIA.

It is unfortunate Mr. Bray
is losing his scholarship.

He's one of our best interns

and quite deserving
of financial assistance.

No gunshot wounds.

There seems to be damage to the spine.

The cartilage from L1 to L5 is torn.

Hey, have you thought about
starting a scholarship?

I mean, you have a lot of money now.

I support many different organizations
that provide food, housing,

and medical care for people in need.
Should I withhold funds from them?

No, no. But it's Wendell.

He grew up with nothing.

He worked his whole life for this.

I try not to get attached to my assistants.

I have learned that
even the best ones can disappoint.

I noticed that there was microfracturing
on the inside edges of the scapulae,

as if they'd been rubbed together.

Gun powder residue on his hand.

I bet that Walther PPK killed our Russian.

But who killed James Bond?

Whoever shot out his window on the roof.

- And where's the briefcase?
- And what's in the briefcase?

We're going down the rabbit hole
here, people.

The CIA has no problem silencing people

that poke around in their business.

I hate to break it to you, Jack,

but you're the guy who studies bugs,
slime, and poop.

It's hardly assassination-worthy.

Hey, a lot of people
would like to see me dead.

I'm not gonna touch that one.

Aren't you on a board
that grants scholarships?

To high school students.
What about you, Mr. Conspiracy Man?

Doesn't your foundation give out grants?

Yeah, after the crash,
our trustees froze all assets

until they could reevaluate the portfolio.

I pack my lunch.
You guys are gonna have to try...

Excuse me, Dr. Brennan?

- Hey, dude!
- What are you doing here?

Agent Booth is here
to drive Dr. Brennan to Langley.

Thank you.

In 500 BC, Sun Tzu devotes attention
to intelligence gathering

in The Art of War.

He argues that all wars
are based on deception.

Logically, that would mean
that if we don't deceive each other,

then war would be unnecessary.

Yeah, but not everyone is logical,
now, are they?

I mean, frustrating,
but that's just how the world works.

- Not between us two.
- Well...

Shouldn't we be honest with each other?

We're honest. I mean, aren't you?
I mean, I am.

So you have no problem with me
making so much more money than you?

No.

Well, yeah, it's... It's a little weird.
I mean, you're loaded.

I mean, you're really loaded,

and you still don't even have a flat screen.

It's just kind of weird, to be honest.
It's a little French, if you ask me.

Don't you feel that your life
would be different if you were wealthy?

Sure. But better?

I mean, yeah, I wouldn't have to fly coach,

but what life throws us,

that's what makes us who we are, right?

I mean, fighting through stuff.

And the good things,
they're not any sweeter if you're rich.

Parker, okay, giving me a hug
because it's my weekend.

And me and you, when we solve a case.

I mean, that's not about money, right?

No. No, it's not.

But I'll never have to fly coach.

I'm Arthur Rutledge,
Assistant Director of Intelligence.

We are very sorry about Greg,

but he wasn't working on
anything for us when he was killed.

Well, the FBI matched ballistics
from Greg Doritt's gun

to the shots that killed Yuri Antonov.

Greg Doritt wasn't issued a gun.

Mmm.

I'm afraid that protocol
in the intelligence community

isn't as simple
as someone like you is used to.

Someone like me?

Look, Rutledge, the more you tell us
about your agent's assignment,

the easier it will be for us

to track down the guy who murdered him.

- That's what someone like him does.
- Correct.

Well, Greg Doritt wasn't an agent.
He was an analyst,

and a rather poor one, at that.

So that means it doesn't matter
that he's dead?

As far as what assignments
he was working on,

that information is classified,

and far beyond what I'm able
to share with someone...

- With someone like me?
- Yes.

FYI, you know, I have level-three clearance

and my SSBI
was renewed two months ago,

which allowed me to get this warrant.

- Well played, Booth!
- Thanks, Bones.

Right. She doesn't have clearance.
You can wait in the lobby, Dr. Brennan.

It's okay. It's...

You know, I can keep a secret.

Right, Bones, we know.

Greg worked the Turkmenistan desk,
analyzing Web sites,

searching for communications
hidden in images and text.

So you got an analyst
to assassinate a Russian courier?

I already told you, we didn't.

Whatever motive Greg had
for killing Antonov,

I'd like to know just as much as you would.

Well, it seems to be about the briefcase.

So, do you know anything about that?

Not other than the fact it's gone missing.

Do you know what might be inside
the briefcase, Mr. Rutledge?

Just diamonds, right?

Ooh! Those eyes
are New Year's Eve bloodshot.

You think Doritt was hammered
when he died?

There's no alcohol in the tox screen.

I found these marks on his right arm.

Must've hurt.

They're holes uniform in diameter,
but the pattern is random.

Looks like they were made by a drill press.

He might've been tortured.

I'll get x-rays and high-res photos
for Dr. Brennan.

Wendell, let me ask you,

you mentioned the neighborhood
where you grew up.

And I don't mean to pry,
but you said it was kind of poor?

I like a good bar band
rather than the opera.

But trust me, there are more people
on my side on that one.

No, I was just asking
because of your scholarship.

- Oh, you mean the miracle.
- "Miracle"?

Yeah, that's what me and my mom call it.

- Really?
- Yeah.

She's in church every day giving thanks.

I think she's there more than the priest.

You know, I come into cash someday,
I'm starting one myself.

For other guys like me.

I'm sorry, you had a question
about the scholarship?

No, that answered just about everything.

This was Greg Doritt's office.

Mr. Rutledge wanted me to make sure
you have everything you need.

- I can't believe Greg is dead.
- There's nothing here.

There's... There's no computer,
there's no files, there's nothing.

Any employee who dies
has his equipment and files secured.

Were you friends with Mr. Doritt?

You know, they said that
he wasn't a good analyst.

Maybe that's what got him killed.

No, no, he was exceptional at his job.

He was always finding threats
the other analysts missed.

Why would they say that he wasn't good?

Because Greg would push,

make sure his leads were followed
or he'd file a report.

They wanted him to look a little nuts,

so his reports wouldn't be taken seriously.

Do you know what he was working on
before he disappeared?

No, but he was working late.

We were supposed to have lunch
over the weekend but...

But?

I never heard from him.

Is there anything else you want to tell me?

No.

Mr. Rutledge did say whatever I need.

He did say that.

Yeah.

Greg was told to testify against someone,

and he wasn't sure
whether the guy was really guilty.

But it was part of his job as an analyst,
and he wanted to be a team player.

- Who did he testify against?
- His name was Pedro Marquez.

The agency thought he was a terrorist.

He was detained in a federal prison
for almost a year

before he was cleared of all charges.

So, it was Greg's testimony
that put him behind bars?

Did Greg think that this Marquez guy
was seeking revenge?

Well, I did. Marquez
was released from prison last week.

So, Pedro, recognize this man?

Yeah. That's the spook
that accused me of being a terrorist.

But come on, look at this sweet face.

He thought you were retrofitting SUVs.

But really you're just a poor,
little, misunderstood car thief,

who owns a chop shop, right?

- Yeah.
- So Greg Doritt, Pedro.

My mom says I should write him
a thank-you note.

What, for sending you to jail?

The CIA just cut me a check
for a hundred grand,

for wrongful something
and defamation of something else.

I got it yesterday. Hey,
I might not have to steal cars anymore.

Right. So where were you
last Friday night?

Working. Like I said,
I only just got the check.

At your chop shop,
do you have a 70-gauge drill bit?

Yeah. I got every size.

We have evidence
that Doritt here was tortured

- before he was killed.
- Wait, the dude's dead?

Yeah. And they drilled holes into his arm.

- A 70-gage bit would be a perfect fit.
- Come on.

That was before the CIA
gave you the check.

I'm thinking he's looking
to take some revenge.

Hell no! You could ask my mother.
I would never kill no one.

So, I'm saying that you followed Doritt,
saw him take out the courier.

So, you probably figured
that the briefcase was very valuable.

So, you kill Doritt,
and take off with the case.

Is there any way possible
you guys could accuse me of all this

in a public court room?

'Cause I'd really like to buy my mom
a new condo.

According to his file,

Doritt fractured his ankle twice

trying to complete an entry-level
obstacle course during CIA training.

This makes no logical sense.

He dressed like a fictional British spy

and pursued a shadow career
as CIA field agent,

even though he clearly did not possess
the physical aptitude

necessary for success.

He didn't wanna be stuck behind a desk.

He saw an opportunity
to live out his dreams, and he took it.

That's ridiculous.

I don't know. It's always been my dream
to work with you.

Sometimes dreaming is the way to go.

Not in this case, of course.

I cross-referenced the x-rays

and enlarged photographs of
the holes drilled in the radius.

Most drill bits leave striations.
These have none.

So, not a drill.

Find out what other objects
can make cavities this smooth.

Already on it.

Excellent work, Mr. Bray.
I'll be sorry to see you go.

Where am I going?

Cam didn't tell you?

I guess not.

She can occasionally be quite sentimental.

There were funding cutbacks
and you've lost your scholarship,

which, of course,
means your internship is canceled.

But aren't there
any other funding resources?

We have explored all of the alternatives.

Fine, I'll take the year off and work.

But if I'm replaced here,

there's no guarantee
I can come back, right?

We can't hold a place, no. I'm sorry.

Sure. I understand.

You are one of the best interns
I've ever had the pleasure to work with.

You will be missed.

Okay,

so, I was inspecting Doritt's watch, right,
and I see that the battery case is loose.

So I open it, and what do I find? A bug.

Why such excitement
over this particular insect?

Because this bug is not an insect.

It's a bug, bug.

Someone was spying on our spy,

who was spying on another spy.

Come on.

A little enthusiasm here.

I lost my scholarship.

Oh, man. You told him?

I thought he knew.

I'll... I should tell Booth
about this surveillance device.

Ah!

- You okay, Booth?
- Yeah.

Did Mandy fight back
when you brought her in?

I'm fine. I just cut myself
trying to fix the pipes.

- Let me see.
- No. Bones, I'm fine, okay?

Let's get to Mandy.
She's waiting in the interrogation room.

She can continue to wait.

Didn't your book for imbeciles
detail how to avoid injury?

No, the bookstore ran out of copies.

And it's a book for dummies,
not a book for imbeciles.

I thought that I could remember
how to fix the pipes,

- but obviously, I can't.
- I'm sure it's very difficult.

I mean, I can't imagine
being capable enough

to fix my own plumbing.

Because you don't want to.
You'd rather buy a plumber.

- Well, I'd rather have someone teach me.
- Look, I can teach you.

Well, I could've taught you. I just...
Let's get inside, all right?

Rutledge said the bug was
checked out in your name.

I got the bug because I was afraid
Greg was cheating on me.

So, why didn't you mention this before?

We weren't supposed to date.
I guess it's not like the FBI.

We're not allowed to sleep
with someone we're working with.

What... Is she talking about us?

- We're not.
- No.

It's okay, I'm CIA. My lips are sealed.

Greg and I were under the radar.

But a week before he went missing,
Greg broke up with me.

I guess I got a little too jealous.

Let me see this.

Wait a second.

This is how he broke up with you?

He sent a picture of him
waving goodbye to you in an e-mail?

Well, we had our problems,
but we loved each other.

Greg was about to propose to me.

And why did you think that?

Because the last conversation I overheard,
it was Greg and Mr. Rutledge.

They were talking about diamonds.

And I felt so guilty for not trusting Greg,

I disconnected the bug
and never heard anything else.

I swear.

What kind of creep breaks up
with someone over e-mail?

Yeah. Well,
like there's an acceptable protocol

for crushing someone's soul.

Hey, wait a second.

This is weird.

This image file is way bigger
than it should be.

Which either means there's some sort of
compression error, or...

Or our steganographer hid data
within the file.

Look at all that code.

Maybe he wasn't breaking up with her
at all.

She was the only person he could trust.

He was sending her a message.

Still no cause of death,
but the damage to the cartilage

and lumbar vertebrae
definitely indicate torture.

He was bent in some painful way
for a long period of time.

I'm analyzing the injuries
to get the exact position.

Well, the strange thing is,
I found no contraction bend necrosis

in the myocardium in the heart.

That means he showed
no signs of distress,

even after hours of torture.
Isn't that impossible?

Unless the CIA underestimated this guy.

Anyone who can take that kind of abuse
makes James Bond look like a weenie.

"Weenie"?

I'm sorry.
I have no idea where that came from.

I'm gonna miss you.

Yeah.

Hey, Angela is still trying
to decode the picture.

She says it's very complex.

Well, we're dealing with the CIA here,
Bones. What's that?

The book you wanted to fix your plumbing.
I found it at a used book store.

Get out. Thanks, Bones.
That is the sweetest thing.

Sure. The book was $6.42.
You can pay me later.

Mmm. Excuse me? It's a gift.

No. Wait, no. If I give... If it was a gift,

you might think of it
as an assault on your virility.

I can take a check, if that's easier.

How about a credit card?

- No, I don't take credit cards.
- Right. No, just joking. Okay.

Well, you know, once I flip through this,

- you know, if you wanna learn, I...
- Sure.

I've always wanted to wield a wrench.

Okay. Just don't get all defensive
if I know something more than you do.

There's something that I don't understand.

How come we can't bring Rutledge in
for questioning?

Mandy said that he and Doritt
were discussing diamonds.

I mean, clearly, he was lying.

Bones, he's the Assistant Director
of the CIA.

We can't just accuse him of murder
without something more definitive

than an overheard conversation, all right?

Perhaps Mr. Bray has found
something more on the remains.

Cam says he's staying remarkably focused,
despite losing his scholarship.

I found, in addition
to perimortem disk compaction,

there was also significant hemorrhaging
on C3.

Trauma confined to a limited space.

If a precision knife hand-strike
was delivered to C3,

it could be used
to render a victim unconscious.

A blow to that region
could cause severe nerve damage.

Which is why the maneuver's known
only by trained combatants,

Special Forces, Navy Seals...

And perhaps the Assistant Director
of the CIA?

If he had been a field agent first,
it seems likely.

That's my mom. I haven't told her yet.
You mind if I take this?

I'll let Booth know.

Hey, Mom.

Prior to becoming Assistant Director,
Rutledge was a field agent in Russia.

- Where he could've met Antonov.
- And in 2004,

he headed a detention center
in Afghanistan.

Yeah, where he earned a reputation
for very effective interrogation techniques.

- Torture?
- Yeah.

One of the techniques
was temporary nerve damage to the spine.

Why would he torture Greg Doritt?
They're on the same side.

Perhaps he's a double agent.

I mean, Rutledge certainly fits that profile.

They're usually intelligent male officers
who had poor father figures,

resulting in repressed anger
and revenge fantasies.

Double agent?

By betraying his country, Rutledge is,
in a sense, choosing a new father.

One who might treat him better
than the last.

Yes, but that would also fit Booth,
and he's not a double agent. Are you?

Stop. Watch it, Sweets.

Elephants are gray, Agent Booth,
but not all gray things are elephants.

- That good for me, right?
- Yeah.

You're really going to trust
something this important with a kid?

Me? At least I tuck myself in
at night, okay?

There is a briefcase out there

with God-only-knows-what inside of it,

and apparently you people don't seem
to have a clue.

- Oh!
- What is it?

I think we just found our smoking gun.

You put a request in to ICE

to pull a baggage inspector
off the diplomatic line

and replace him
with one of your own men.

You created the security hole
so the briefcase could enter the country.

See that, right there?
That's your signature. You're going down.

All right, whatever recording equipment
you have in this room, turn it off.

I created the hole
so an additional $20 million in diamonds

could be brought into the country.

The diamonds were then
to be shipped to Pakistan

in exchange for political prisoners.

And keep Congress in the dark.
Iran-Contra, all over again.

So you killed your own analyst

- because he got in your way?
- No.

Doritt read some online chatter
about the exchange.

I told him to mind his own business.

I tried to save him.

Doritt got killed
because he didn't listen to me.

Or maybe he got killed because
there was something more dangerous

in that briefcase instead of diamonds.

Hey, have you seen Booth and Brennan?

They're in the Bone Room.
Is everything okay?

No. The CIA's taking over
the investigation.

They're coming to collect
both sets of remains in 10 minutes.

Wait, wait, so we only have...

Ten minutes, yeah.
How are things coming in here?

Um... I'm still trying to decode the image.

It appears that most of the data
is centered in his hand,

and it could be a map of some kind.

Well, do it fast.

Rutledge is claiming national security.

- He can't do that.
- No, he can.

He can just bury the evidence,
and we won't be able to touch him.

- Nine minutes left.
- Nine minutes?

- You're joking, right?
- It's not a joke.

Let's just pretend this is
the Stanley Cup finals right now, all right?

You're down by two goals.
You got nine minutes left.

Yeah, but there's so much data here.

The puck is about to drop.

How do you wanna go down?
How do you wanna be remembered?

All right.

I found avulsion fractures
along the proximal humerus.

Also, the heads of each femur
were dislocated from the acetabula.

Mr. Doritt's body was bent back so far
that the tendons snapped the bone.

That would happen if his hands and feet
were tied behind his back.

Right. He was then hung by his hands.
I did a computer simulation.

Okay. If he was left upside down
long enough,

congestion of the head and brain
would lead to asphyxiation.

Petechial hemorrhaging
explains the bloodshot eyes.

- We have cause of death.
- Okay, great. That's one goal.

But we still can't tie Rutledge
to the murder.

Well, when I was in Chechnya
identifying bodies,

there was one victim who suffered
a Ukrainian torture called the "Swallow."

He was suspended upside down,

- very similar to this.
- No, that's not enough.

Okay, look, you got one shot,
one shot on goal.

It's an empty net. What are you gonna do?

The holes in the radius, I been trying
to figure out what caused them.

It wasn't a drill.
It was something strong enough

to bore through bone, but leave no trace.

A laser.

Diamonds are cut by lasers.

Lena Brodsky
is the head of a diamond firm.

She would have easy access to a laser.

She's Ukrainian.
Doritt got to the case before she did.

She's the one
who tortured and killed Doritt.

- Take the body.
- What? No! Wait! You can't take him.

Yeah, we're still in regulation here.
We got four minutes left on the clock.

Look, we know you didn't kill him.

But Doritt knew Antonov
was working for Lena Brodsky.

He came to you guys. You didn't listen.

So, he takes care of it himself.

And then Lena finds out, kills him.
She must know where the briefcase is.

We have the neodymium laser you used
to burn holes in Greg Doritt's arms.

And the gun you fired at Doritt's car
after you saw him take off with your case.

What was in that case
that is so much more valuable

than millions in diamonds?

Where's the briefcase, Lena?

Okay. Great. You know what?

Whoever hired you,
they can't be too happy,

so when we send you back to the Ukraine,

I'm sure you'll live a long life.

I don't know where the case is.

Doritt never talked.

After what I put him through,
he should've talked.

Anyone would've talked.

I've never seen a man so brave.

Booth.

I was right. It's a map.

Keep your eye on his hand.

He wasn't waving goodbye.

He was telling Mandy
where he hid his briefcase.

We don't know what's in that case.
You call in your cavalry.

I know how to do my job.

Well, then how come we found the killer
and the case?

We're all clear.

All right, call it in.

A USB computer drive.

- That's what all of this was about?
- Information.

Today that can be more dangerous
than one bomb.

Stars on the Memorial Wall,
they represent agents

who died courageously
while serving their country.

The Memorial Wall is reserved for agents.

Mr. Doritt was not an agent.

In Mr. Doritt's case,
I asked that an exception be made.

Well, gonna miss you, Wendell.

- Stay safe, okay?
- Yeah, you, too.

Won't be the same without you, man.

We are all grateful
for your exceptional work, Mr. Bray.

- Thank you.
- Hold on a second.

Don't worry. I wouldn't have left
without saying goodbye.

- That's nice, but you don't have to leave.
- Excuse me?

I was just notified
that they found new funding

for your scholarship.

You are covered in full
for the next two years.

Apparently, a donation
was made anonymously.

Anonymously?

Well, then please allow me
to say thank you to Anonymous.

We still need all of the evidence
photographed and cataloged

before we send it to
the federal prosecutor's office, Mr. Bray.

Yes, Dr. Brennan. Right away.

Thank you.

Actually, they received
enough anonymous donations

for three scholarships.

Hmm.

That is quite a coincidence.

It really is.

So, for the next step,
you need to attach the elbow pipe.

- Okay.
- Using the PVC cement there.

Okay.

Stick that little fuzzy ball in there
and swish it around.

- You got it?
- It stinks.

Yeah, well, you smell dead bodies
and that stinks? Okay.

There is a beautiful logic to this.

You know, it's like reconstructing
the circulatory system.

The water is the blood.

The pipes, veins.

Right, right, right. So, what you need to do
is just apply pressure,

right in there, and hold for a minute, okay?

Got it.

All right, I know.
Just making sure that it's safe.

Student-teacher. Student-teacher.

You know, Bones, I'm glad that,

you know, we don't have any secrets
between each other.

Yeah. I like that.

I mean, if we have something on our mind,
we just... We just share it.

Sure.

Even with all the financial
and intellectual contradictions,

I still feel close to you.

Right, because, you know,
none of that really matters anyway.

Sometimes looking at it
through your eyes, I believe that.

Right, so pipe seems nice
and secure, right? Tight?

- Yeah. Seems secure.
- All right, just hold on to it there.

Let me just open up the water.

Right there.

It's an old apartment.
It's Washington.

Close that. There.

- Okay.
- You can take your hand off now, Bones.

- You sure?
- Positive.

Look at that.

Nice and secure.

- No drip.
- No drip.

You're... You're a good student.

Only as good as my teacher.

Turn it off.

- My watch is ruined.
- What do you mean, your watch is ruined?

- It's a Rolex!
- It's a Rolex.

ENGLISH - US - SDH