Life Goes On 2

Chapter 7

On Friday morning, Castle was up long before the kids. In the distraction of the Kremnitzer case the day before, he hadn't finished the chapter that was due to his editor at Curtis and Strom, at least not to his satisfaction. The words in the sentences seemed in the wrong order to convey the maximum emotional impact. His phone buzzed with Esposito's ID. "Castle, your boy's been seen. He's at the country's crappiest hotel in Brooklyn. Small time dealer there saw him dickering over a car. So it looks like he might be ready to take off."

"Thanks Espo, "Castle replied. "I'll get the intel to Fallon, if he answers his phone this early. How's Maria doing?"

"Bro, I'm sure you know how it goes. I'm keeping crackers all over the apartment and in my pockets for her. But she hurls and then she grins at me. She says her mom told her she was sickest with her healthiest babies. The way Maria is going, the kid should be Superman."

"You can't fault her attitude," Castle offered. "Hope her mom is right. Now you should try to grab some sleep, man. Believe me, you should get it while you can."

"Copy that, Castle. Just hope Fallon's feds don't find a way to screw things up."

"Yeah," Castle agreed. "Me too."


The caravan of black SUVs made its way to the ironically named Best Value motel in Brooklyn. As a heavily armed squad ringed the place, a square jawed Agent Faraday showed Kremnitzer's picture to the suddenly alert clerk at the squalid front desk. "Yeah he was here, pain in the ass too. Complaining that nothing worked, like this was the Four Seasons or something. He was in three oh six, but he left a couple hours ago. Took off in a car, I think. He was carrying his stuff out to the parking lot, having a little trouble, something wrong with his hands."

"Did you get a license plate?" Faraday asked.

The clerk snorted. "Are you kidding? Guys like that, they come here, 'cause we don't notice stuff like that. Some of them are just here for very short stays, about an hour, if you know what I mean. TMI is not good for business."

"Did you at least see what kind of car?" Faraday persisted.

"Didn't see it, but heard it. Bum muffler. Wouldn't be surprised if it fell off someplace along the way."

Faraday immediately pulled out his phone.


Merkle's Muffler Service was glad to have the business. Since the Golden King franchise had moved in down the road, his customer base had shrunk considerably. When the customer requesting a new muffler for a rusty Mercury Marquis Station Wagon said his name was "Cash," Merkle wasn't about to dispute it. He just got to work.


Fallon banged a fist against his dashboard at Faraday's report. The operation was just too damn slow. He was really beginning to appreciate Castle's disdain for protocol. If he had just driven out to the motel himself when he got the call, he might have caught Kremnitzer himself. "Alright," he sighed, "put out a BOLO for cars with a busted muffler. Get bulletins out to all the muffler shops in the area too. Maybe he'll try to get the damn thing fixed.


Kate thought it was only fair to stay with the twins while Rick paid a visit to Curtis and Strom. Normally he'd just email the chapter, but he'd said he had a few details he wanted to work through with his editor. She suspected that his trip had more to do with getting out of the house than fine tuning a chapter, but she couldn't blame him. He'd been doing more than his share of holding the fort, not to mention aiding in the hunt for Marshall Kremnitzer. He was more than entitled to a breather. He'd also promised pastrami sandwiches from the best kosher deli in the city, which just happened to be a block from Curtis and Strom. Her stomach rumbled at the thought.

Kate's anticipatory salivation was interrupted by a loud crash, followed by howls, from the twins' room. She arrived on the run. Reese had piled toy cars on top of his latest structure, and when Jake knocked it down, one managed to hit him in the face. Jake was distressed at his injury and Reese was angry at the loss of his masterpiece. She checked Jake for blood or any sign the car had damaged an eye. There was a shallow scratch on his cheek, but that was all. She distracted Jake with his train and reassured Reese that he could rebuild better then ever. As she watched her boys get back to the business of play, she couldn't help smiling. Whatever was going on in the world, plastic blocks and plastic trains were more important to them. She hoped that innocence would continue for at least a few years more.


Castle followed the sharp olfactory tang of kosher pickles through the door of Kaplowitz's Deli. The rich fatty scent of freshly sliced pastrami joined it. He grabbed a number from the dispenser on the counter and noted the "Now Serving" board. There were twenty people ahead of him. It wasn't surprising, that close to the lunch hour. He settled himself at at a small table to wait, and opened his laptop. There were changes he needed to make to the notes for his next chapter, but they didn't take long. After he finished, he occupied himself with people watching.

His eyes shifted to a small table in a back corner. He could only see the back of the man sitting there, but the full head of white hair topping the six foot four body was unmistakable. Castle moved to a table next the one the man occupied. "Dad, what are you doing here?"

"You left me a message. I can track your phone or your laptop. Take your pick. And I love the corned beef. So," Hunt continued, "I assume this is about the idiot who loosed that virus at Nano-Life. There are a few good chuckles going around that your guys are doing a better job than Homeland and that ass Fallon. He just let Kremnitzer get away again. Your killer is heading to South Jersey."

"How did you?" Castle exclaimed. "Never mind. Does inter-agency cooperation extend to helping Fallon out?"

"He'll catch up. The way he's going, he'll get a description of the car and he should be able to track it from there. There's not really a hurry. Kremnitzer's not a threat, terrorist or otherwise. He doesn't have any more virus. He can't kill anyone else. They'll round him up eventually and stick him in a hole. But it won't make a difference. We're more concerned with the virus Kremnitzer didn't steal."

"What do you mean?" Castle asked.

"The slower incubation strain. Perfect to be released by genuine terrorists in train stations, sporting events, anywhere with crowds of people. They'll be contagious for days before they even know they're sick. By that time, it will have spread all over the country and abroad. An epidemic will be completely out of control and there won't be a damn thing we can do about it. Somehow when the lab closed down, a vial of it disappeared and our government can't admit it, because we weren't supposed have it in the first place"

"And you're telling me this why? Isn't this super classified? It sounds like there would be no place to run anyway."

"Son, you passed super-classified years ago. We've analyzed the records at the lab where they were working on the virus, and come up with bupkus. We haven't gotten anything out of the staff either. You're the out of the box thinker. Our analysts are bureaucratic boneheads. I need you turn those writer's eyes to what we have and see if you find something our people missed. There's a drive already in your pocket. And I think they're calling your number next. You don't want to keep Kate waiting."