Chapter 176: Temperance: Are You Going to Become a Senator Hunter?
"There are countless handsome men, but there are only a handful of top mathematicians in all of human history."
Her best friend Bones shook her head: "Describing him as handsome is too superficial."
"Ha! That's even better."
Angela laughed: "Not only do you share the same status and similar interests, but now you actually respect each other. This is much better than Pete. Looks like the male protagonist in the novel will need to be replaced—poor Booth~"
"How do you figure we respect each other? I know him because mathematics is the crown jewel of the scientific community, so everyone in science knows the name Dr. Chuck Wolfe."
Her best friend Bones frowned: "And he couldn't possibly know me. Although I don't like the scientific hierarchy, I can't deny it objectively exists. Whether it's forensic medicine or anthropology, they occupy less prestigious positions in this hierarchy, not to mention the more specialized combination of the two—forensic anthropology. Including me, there are only two forensic anthropologists in all of Washington, D.C.
And this has nothing to do with Pete! And nothing to do with Booth! I've explained many times that the male protagonist in the novel isn't based on him!"
"Yeah, yeah, I know,"
Angela said dismissively, still obsessed with her gossip. "First off, nobody could dislike you! Your combination of beauty and intelligence is like Athena reborn. If I were a man, or if my orientation ever changed, I'd definitely pursue you. Dr. Chuck Wolfe is also a man, so he'd definitely be impressed by you!
Second, Pete is an ex-boyfriend, so that's fine. I get it. But if you're claiming the male protagonist in your novel isn't based on FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth, who worked with us last time, then... well, you're a scientist who follows logic. Do you think your novel is pure fantasy that completely ignores reality?"
Her best friend Bones fell silent.
As a forensic anthropologist, her specialty was bones. Plus, her surname Brennan, like "Bones," started with a B, hence the nickname.
And as a consultant, helping the FBI and other law enforcement agencies examine discovered human remains was part of her job at the Jeffersonian Institution's Museum of Natural History.
Unlike Chuck, who participated proactively and independently, she was assigned to the FBI as a valuable asset of the Jeffersonian Institution.
Her FBI partner was Special Agent Seeley Booth, a typically tall, imposing white agent.
Her novels were crime fiction, naturally featuring FBI agents, and the cases were based on her own experiences. It would be unreasonable to claim the main and supporting characters weren't influenced by those around her. As a rigorous scientist, she couldn't completely deny this.
"Oh, don't overthink it. This is a good thing,"
Angela said excitedly, hugging her bestie. "Competition creates drama, and drama is more engaging. Besides, it's not just novels that need big hits—your life needs some fresh, exciting developments too."
"You make it sound like I could just collaborate with him on a case if I wanted to."
Her bestie, true to her scientific nature, made no attempt to hide her interest after being called out. She frankly acknowledged her genuine curiosity, but also recognized the practical challenges.
"I've done my research. Dr. Wolfe collaborates with the BAU, traveling all over the country. And BAU headquarters is in Quantico—not far from here."
Angela came prepared and offered her solution directly. "With the FBI as an intermediary, there's every chance you could work together. If you take initiative, maybe you could be collaborating today. New York isn't far from here."
"I'll consider it,"
Bones told Angela, not hiding her interest. She dropped her duffel bag, paused, and turned to look at a bald middle-aged man in a suit. "Sir, why are you following us?"
The bald man in the suit turned and started walking away.
Bones grabbed his arm and, with a standard takedown move, pinned him to the ground. Angela, seeing this, swung her purse at him several times while shouting.
Airport security immediately surrounded them.
"I'm with Homeland Security!"
the bald man in the suit cried out in pain.
"Uh, there might be some misunderstanding,"
Angela said, seeing airport security pointing their weapons at her spread-eagle friend. She quickly changed her tone and tried to defuse the situation.
"Lower your weapons!"
Bones shouted at airport security.
As a meticulous scientist who had worked with the FBI, she knew how common accidental shootings were, and she didn't want to become a statistic.
"She's giving orders now?"
the bald suited agent shouted, standing up angrily. "No! Lower your weapons when I say lower them!" Then, turning to Bones, he ordered, "Bring that bag here."
"Just for this?"
Bones suddenly thought she understood and handed the duffel bag to the bald agent. When he opened it, she mockingly made an explosion sound: "Boom!"
The bald agent looked at the human skull inside and instinctively dropped the bag. Slightly flustered, he escorted Bones and Angela to the airport security office.
"I'm Dr. Temperance Brennan, a forensic anthropologist at the Jeffersonian Institution. I spent two months in Guatemala researching genocide there, including this victim,"
Bones introduced herself, finally looking at the human skull placed on the table.
"You know, a normal person would break into a cold sweat if they encountered a situation like this."
The bald agent looked at her: "You know who wouldn't be afraid at all?"
"A psychopath!"
The airport security officer carefully examining the duffel bag couldn't help but interject.
"I'm not a psychopath! I'm a forensic anthropologist who specializes in bones!"
Bones retorted.
"And a scientist who cooperates with the FBI, but I need verification."
The bald agent noticed someone entering and immediately changed the subject: "Ma'am, you're illegally transporting human remains and assaulting a federal officer. These aren't minor offenses."
"First, I am not illegally transporting human remains!"
Bones corrected: "I've completed all proper customs procedures. Second, I apologize if I embarrassed you in front of your colleagues, but as a Homeland Security agent, you really should work on your combat skills."
As she spoke, she turned and looked at the figure who had been discretely waving and smiling at her best friend Angela: "What are you doing here?"
"FBI, Special Agent Seeley Booth, D.C. Major Crimes."
The man flashed his badge. "Bones is one of ours. I can vouch for her."
"Don't call me Bones!"
Bones protested.
"Right, I'll leave her to you,"
the bald agent said curtly.
"Okay, Bones, let's go."
Agent Booth smiled and moved to escort Bones out.
"Looks perfect!"
Angela gave him a thumbs-up. "Seems like your leading man role can continue."
Agent Booth couldn't help but smile smugly.
He had also read Bones' novels and was very pleased with his portrayal.
"That's it?"
Bones, unlike Angela, was completely rational and immediately sensed something was wrong. She looked at the bald agent questioningly. "You're just letting me go like that?"
"What's the big deal? Let's go."
Agent Booth reached for Bones' luggage and tried to escort her out.
"Yeah,"
Angela joined her friend, saying, "This isn't a pleasant place. Let's get out of here."
She didn't enjoy being detained and interrogated.
"I see,"
Bones said, identifying the key issue. "You asked him to do this?"
The smugness on Agent Booth's face froze.
"What did you ask him to do?"
Angela was still confused.
"He asked this Homeland Security agent to harass us, then used it as an opportunity to play hero!"
Bones explained sarcastically to her bestie.
"What?"
Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as she stared at the tall, imposing Agent Booth. She couldn't believe it.
Could Agent Booth, who had seemingly stepped out of the pages of her book as the masculine hero radiating testosterone, really do such a thing?
"At least it gave me a chance to pick you up, didn't it?"
Agent Booth, faced with Bones' stern gaze and knowing he couldn't lie to her, could only tell the truth: "Listen, I tried reaching you through normal channels, but your assistant always blocked me."
"I asked Zack to do that."
Bones looked coldly at Agent Booth, who showed no remorse: "Ever since you waited for us to finish the assessment last time, then ditched us and prevented us from continuing with the case, I told him to do that. Obviously, Zack is an excellent assistant."
"It's actually true?"
Angela saw that Agent Booth had admitted it and it was confirmed. She muttered in bewilderment: "Dr. Chuck Wolfe is a real hero who saves women in distress, and you're staging a fake rescue scenario. It really seems like the novel's male protagonist needs to be replaced."
"What does this have to do with Chuck Wolfe?"
Agent Booth's face darkened.
"How doesn't it?"
Angela looked at him strangely. "I was just telling Bones about their similarities, and about you too. I thought this would be a close contest, but who would've thought you'd resort to such tactics? Do you realize how despicable such behavior is?"
"..."
Agent Booth stared at the agitated Angela speechlessly. He knew it wasn't nice, but did she need to react so violently?
"Do you think you're being clever?"
Bones said coldly. "You think this is just a minor issue? Unlike you popular kids from high school, ordinary people—especially girls like Angela—are often harassed like this. Compared to ordinary harassment, this deliberately orchestrated hero rescue tactic is even more despicable. Because when she realizes what the so-called 'hero' really is, the psychological and emotional damage is doubled."
Although inclusive education was trending in American schools, with athletic types and popular kids being celebrated, not everyone fell into this category. There were always some who knew what they wanted and rejected such superficial attractions.
However, due to harmful stereotypes perpetuated by media portrayals, there had developed a subconscious tendency to target Asians.
When such women rejected advances, the cruder ones resorted to force, while the self-proclaimed gentlemen used manipulative rescue scenarios.
Angela, though mixed-race, had distinct Asian features, making her a natural target for this harassment.
This wasn't limited to targeting Asian women; many predatory men also used this approach, though most were con artists.
The tactics were similar: arrange for someone to create a threatening situation, then "rescue the woman," become trusted friends, and finally repeatedly and legally extract money.
This was far superior to simple robbery. After all, Americans rarely carried much cash—maybe a emergency twenty—and robbery wasn't likely to yield much while still carrying significant risk.
So after hearing what Bones said, and learning that even the respected Agent Booth could engage in such despicable behavior, Angela's image of him completely shattered. Her rose-colored glasses broke, and many things she hadn't considered before came flooding back. She glared at Agent Booth with genuine anger: "Do you realize how dangerous this was? Bones and I were just held at gunpoint, all for your 'heroic rescue'?"
Agent Booth was completely stunned. He hadn't expected such a small scheme to provoke such a reaction. He instinctively glanced at the bald Homeland Security agent, hoping he'd bail him out.
But the bald agent, already feeling guilty about being exposed for abusing his authority for personal favors, was intimidated. Bones wasn't just anyone—she was a scientist and renowned author. If she filed a complaint, he could lose his job. He didn't dare confront her again. He just kept his head down, his bald scalp reflecting the light as he glared at his friend and said, "You can go."
"I admit it was wrong, but it's not as extreme as you're making it sound. I explained everything. You weren't in any real danger!"
Agent Booth argued somewhat angrily.
"Ha!"
Bones sneered: "You know I examine corpses, right? As far as I can recall, the record for bullet wounds in a single victim is 45 holes. In that case, eight officers pursuing an unarmed suspect fired over ninety shots and hit more than sixty times. The victim was just running away, while I single-handedly subdued a Homeland Security agent. The probability of being shot on sight is much higher than his was. Just because you wanted to 'rescue the damsel,' you wanted us to risk being turned into Swiss cheese?"
"You're being unreasonable, you're not..."
Agent Booth started to retort reflexively, but when the words reached his lips, he knew they wouldn't sound good in public, so he swallowed "you're not Black" and switched to the standard line: "Later investigation showed the suspect had a gun in his car."
"But he didn't have a weapon on him, and he didn't make any threatening moves to resist."
Bones countered: "And were you about to say I'm not Black? So there wouldn't be any danger?"
"I didn't say that."
Agent Booth avoided Bones' gaze, refusing to admit it. But in his heart, he thought, "Even Batman has to show his white chin to avoid being targeted—what about ordinary people?"
"We have nothing more to discuss. Angela, let's go!"
Bones grabbed her duffel bag, said goodbye, and left with her bestie.
"Sort this out,"
the bald Homeland Security agent warned. "I was just doing you a favor. Don't drag me into this mess."
At this point, he couldn't help but grumble, "Why did you target such a sharp woman?"
"..."
Agent Booth was speechless. Who could have predicted that his usual trick would not only fail but completely backfire? He could only chase after them under his friend's accusatory glare.
He had originally wanted to partner with Bones on a case while enjoying some flirtation. But now it seemed flirting was hopeless. Better to focus on solving the case.
U.S. Capitol
"Senator Bethlehem, may I speak with you?"
Chuck, who had been waiting there, asked the suspected killer as he entered, chewing gum.
"I know you!"
Senator Bethlehem said, chewing gum and laughing. "You're the detective who brought down that female senator."
The male aide beside him looked slightly alarmed.
Detective Chuck's reputation had become quite famous recently due to all the publicity.
"Senator Bethlehem, there have been rumors for two years that you're responsible for the disappearance of aide Coriole Eller. Do you have any response to this?"
Chuck met the man's eyes and got straight to the point.
"That matter has already been investigated. First, I have no motive, and second, there's no body, so it has nothing to do with me."
Senator Bethlehem chewed his gum and looked at Chuck with interest. "I heard you can read minds. Do you think what I'm saying is true?"
"I've said before that both that senator and her father were amateurs,"
Chuck said bluntly. "They should learn from you. Either learn not to commit crimes in the first place, or learn to be more professional about it."
As they say in America, without a body, without evidence, and without motive, even if someone is caught, it's difficult to get a conviction.
He couldn't tell if the senator was lying. There were only two possibilities: either he was telling the truth, or he was a truly seasoned politician.
"I'll take that as a compliment,"
Senator Bethlehem nodded with a grin.
"Bethlehem, the vote is starting. What are you still doing out here?"
Just then, laughter drew everyone's attention. A middle-aged man in a suit walked out, with a receding hairline and a perpetual smile—the classic politician look.
"Francis, I'll be right in."
Senator Bethlehem smiled. "Look who I ran into!"
"You're Dr. Chuck Wolfe!"
The man named Francis looked Chuck up and down, smiling as he teased, "You handled Senator Bassen's case before, and now you're targeting Senator Bethlehem? Are you really planning to become a senator hunter?"
"That depends on you,"
Chuck said calmly. "As long as you don't foolishly incriminate yourselves, I won't have the opportunity to become a senator hunter."
Francis's smile faltered.
He felt the words were profound, loaded with meaning, worth pondering, but for a moment he couldn't grasp the true implication.
"Mr. Maguire is right. You truly are a top mathematician, a consultant sought after by the IRS, the FBI, and police departments everywhere. Your words are wise."
Francis smiled at Senator Bethlehem. "Bethlehem, do you hear that? We must remember this sage advice. We must correct our mistakes and learn from them."
"No problem,"
Senator Bethlehem agreed with a wry smile.
(End of Chapter)
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