A/N- Ever happened to you that you watched a 'Castle' episode, and suddenly came up with a crazy, "what if" idea for a fanfic?
Well, yeah, this is what fanfic is all about, though what happened to me after watching one of my favorite episodes can be defined as nothing else but temporary insanity. Seriously.
I have NO IDEA how on earth I came up with this, I have no idea what's I'm gonna do with it, but...oh well. If you say this is awful, I'll leave it and just go with the first thought of "WTH was I thinking?" and never try a similar idea ever again; but if you think I should continue, just tell! give some insight and advice, too!
So, here it is.
sal·vage
tr.v. sal·vaged, sal·vag·ing, sal·vag·es
A. The rescue of a ship, its crew, or its cargo from fire or shipwreck.
B. To save from loss or destruction.
C. The act of saving imperiled property from loss.
Chapter 1:
NOW
Homicide detective Katherine Beckett can feel her heart in her throat as her sweaty fingers entwine nervously.
Turning her head aside, her eyes stare into the deep blues of the captain.
They both know just what's at stake, they both know that if something goes wrong now, they can kiss this operation goodbye.
He looks at her hesitatingly, "You sure about this?" he questions feebly. Taking to mind that the captain, up till now was the follower, as she had the last word in this, he must admit he doesn't feel very comfortable with the idea. With what's about to happen.
They cannot trust this guy.
But they're also running out of options. And time.
Kate's body leans forward, to lie down on the cold floor, as she, the captain, and the snipers nearby and on top of the building are on immediate alert, trying to sense any change in the already tense atmosphere; She doubts they'll be of much help now, but the captain insisted.
She knows Ryan and Esposito are somewhere nearby, though she has difficulty spotting them in the darkness, taking to mind they're too far for her to locate.
But she has bigger problems now.
The captain is right, she has to admit; It's very risky, and they don't even know if that guy's to be trusted. He's a butcher, she knows that. Kate always hated the butchers, but also hoped that his expertise, if that's even the right way to call it, in the field, could become of use.
It's too late to wonder whether she has made the right decision or not.
The familiar buzz of her phone snaps her out of her thoughts, and her eyes try to adapt to the lighting screen as she reads the message.
"GAME ON."
And she grabs her gun tightly.
His small eyes sparkle as he loads the cash in the duffle bag. Tilting his head, he blinks at the small boy sitting on the chair in front of him.
The young boy is terrified.
As he brushes it off, knowing his son's temper changes every few minutes, he mutters, "Don't worry, we'll be out of here in no time."
The boy releases a tiny squeak, but offers no coherent verbal response.
As father turns aside, he falls target to the very stern look of his captive, and he holds back a sneer. A mocking laughter, maybe, "I told you not to push my buttons, Pretty Boy," he scoffs at him, "Now you're all to die like rats," his next words are targeted to the rest, four in number.
A twisted lip of contempt is the answer, a gaze over the young boy, "You're not going to get away with this…-"
"Hush, Richard," the woman next to him commands softly, "That'll do no good to us now."
"You should listen to your mother for once, Pretty Boy," their ruthless captor takes joy over their distress, and Castle's blood boils, especially when thinking about the child, the innocent victim in all of this, scared of the next blow, the one seated next to the table.
How does he get the boy out?
As the captor keeps loading the cash, Castle's gaze turns to his mother, then to the four others. Abe sits there, covered in sweat, almost catatonic, barely with them. Sie knows better than to say anything. She could hardly move or protest even if she wanted. Kyle, tossed on the floor next to her, mutters something, but is most likely delusional. He took a bullet to his knee 3 days ago, pissed 'The Gorilla' off, something that wasn't clever.
His fever refuses to break.
Castle could feel the change in the air for the better part of the evening. Something is going on, for they talked about their 'Guy' for some time now.
Probably the one to help them cross the border.
Thought which is hardly comforting.
The cash finally in the duffle bag, a phone chimes. Their captor smiles when he reads the message.
Finally.
A slight knock on the door is their cue.
Abe jumps.
Sie trembles.
Martha Rodgers grabs her son's warm hand with her own.
Game on.
Their captor snorts as he opens the door of the dark condo, inviting their mysterious guest in, "It's about damn time… Where…-" his words fade as he finds himself on the wrong side of a very threatening aiming gun.
Pointed right at his forehead.
This is a twist none of them saw coming.
"You," the captor stutters, shocked, "How…?"
"Told you not to trust anyone, now, didn't I?" a dangerous smile is on his guest's face, and he growls quietly, "Now, the rules of this game are about to change, Trapper John."
A/N- Temporary insanity. Told ya. Hehe.