Author's Note – New York City is a rich stew of legendary personalities created by great actors, writers, producers and others. I wonder if there are any interesting interactions we can explore through Castle's lens? This may be an irregular string of semi related stories. Any suggestions welcome!
High stress work environments with multidimensional risks are brutally Darwinian. They root out the weak in mind, spirit and will. One of the things fighter pilots, Special Forces operators, cops and firefighters, at least the best of them, develop is an extraordinary level of situational awareness…the ability to recognize, understand, prioritize and act on a multitude of threats that can ruin your day in a 360-degree bubble around them. Kate Beckett mastered the skill. Sometimes it was a blessing. Other times it could be troublesome.
Without really thinking about it she noticed an SUV with dark tinted windows and New York plates parked on the curb in a no parking zone in front of Castle's building. Since the Suburban had regular plates it was from a car service, she concluded, and that matched the idea that tonight was "big dog" poker night at Casa de Castle. Walking into the lobby triggered a completely involuntary cop response.
Her unconscious lobby scan led immediately to the conclusion that she wasn't the only one in the building packing a weapon. The new night doorman – a recent graduate of the Kabul school of personal protection – was carrying. She knew that. He was licensed to carry a 40 caliber Glock that he was very good with. And behind his stand a Model 870 pump shotgun was at the ready. That wasn't new. Castle was extending the family security bubble in a number of quiet ways since Kate's last experience with the dragon's minions. That wasn't what started to raise her level of readiness.
A late 30ish man, dark, short hair, well developed wearing an expensive, well cut suit was in the lobby along with a blonde female about the same age. The blonde was also well dressed. Both were armed. The guy's expensive suit was very well tailored, but to her well trained eye he was carrying a large frame automatic in a shoulder holster under his left arm. The rig more than likely held a pair of clips under his right arm.
The fashionable purse hanging off the woman's left shoulder was a gun bag. Period. 'What the hell is going on here?' Everyone seemed to be on good terms. There wasn't any visible stress in the lobby, but there was a lot of fire power in the small space. Now the goddamn Suburban previously written off as a car service limo for someone in the building was a war wagon…probably with additional manpower. 'I should have taken a closer look…but that wouldn't have given anything up as dark as the tint was…shit.'
In Beckett's rapidly changing world view she had simply walked into an ambush waiting for some dumb SOB to walk off the elevator or the street into a well beaten kill zone. Reinforcements were at the curb and an escape was set up. 'Why did I leave the damn radio in the car…at least I could have fairly quietly punched the emergency button and called out the cavalry before being ….no, don't go there'
The tactical situation sucked and wasn't going to get any better even if she was able to dive behind the doorman's Kevlar desk when the shooting started. Well, she thought, in for a penny; in for a pound, so she walked up to Brian the doorman.
"How are things this evening? Is Castle holding court upstairs?" As she spoke she slid laterally across the lobby and closer to shelter at the desk. Then the evening took another radical course change.
The well-dressed armed stranger number one spoke pleasantly. "Good evening. No one mentioned any other visitors this evening? Are you heading up to the sixth floor?" His 'partner' stepped slightly to her left away from the group creating a better tactical spread. As Beckett took a step to her right to more effectively address the threat, Brian smiled and threw another curve into the already weird situation.
"Did you take a cab, or should I take your car around to the garage?" The normalcy of the question took Kate completely by surprise. Her adrenalin was flowing; everything in the lobby looked awful. She was a dead woman walking, and the fucking doorman was worried about the car. That was ridiculous.
The blonde woman finally brought some order to the situation extending her right hand in an offer to shake hands. "Detective, I'm Sgt. Baker and this is Sgt. Wolinski. It's nice to meet you. I know the PC is looking forward to meeting you."