Disclaimer: All the characters belong to Andrew W. Marlowe, though they have found their own way into my heart.
"Kate! KATE!" but he didn't get any answer, the line was already disconnected. He felt his heart pounding in his chest. He immediately sprinted towards her apartment. As he ran and avoided bumping the people on the sidewalk, he dialed Ryan's number. The detective answered on the second tone.
"He's got Beckett!" he yelled. "The sniper, in her apartment," he panted as he pushed his legs to move even faster. "I'm almost there." In the background, he heard Ryan speeding up and turning on the sirens.
"All units, 10-99. Detective Katherine Beckett held hostage at Hudson with Franklin. Suspect's a dangerous military trained sniper," Ryan continued talking through his radio. "Castle!" he directed at him again, "Don't go inside! Wait for us!"
He could see her building, just a few more yards. "She could be dead already," he shouted to Ryan. He stormed inside the lobby and turned to the stairs, taking three steps at a time.
"Castle!" he heard Ryan's muffled yell through the phone.
He was out of breath when he made it to her floor. He brought the phone to his ear.
"Where does she keep her back up gun?" he hissed.
"Castle don't-,"
"Ryan, where!"
"Uhmm…, either entrance hall or bedroom."
Castle disconnected. He tried the door; it was unlocked. He opened it an inch and listened, but didn't hear a sound. Oh my god! Was he too late? He pushed the door further open. The only light came from her office. Papers lay scattered all over the floor. He turned his gaze to the console table next to him. The drawers were open and empty. No gun. Damn! He jumped at the sound of a muffled bang. It had come from far inside the apartment. He crossed the hall and peeked around the corner. He saw a tall figure by the bedroom's door. Snatching a long knife from the floor, he approached the man from behind.
Sitting on the rooftop garden, her mind had wandered off. She checked her watch and realized it was later than she thought. It had gotten pretty dark, the sun had set, and she couldn't see the pages of the book in her hands anymore. She approached the door that led downstairs to her living room. Just as she opened it, she saw light in her office and a shadow move, a tall figure holding a gun. A gun with a silencer. She quietly closed the door as she speed dialed Castle.
"Rick! He's here!" she screamed. "Maddox is here." The cell beeped three times in her ear. "Castle? CASTLE!" The cell's screen went black as the battery died. Shit! What should she do? Her back up gun was in her bedroom. She risked taking another peek downstairs. Maddox didn't seem to know she was home. She'd locked the front door after her father had left early in the afternoon and, since it was still daylight when she'd come upstairs to the roof, all lights inside her home were off. She saw Maddox was going through papers and documents on her desk. She thought for a moment. She could go down the fire escape and call for help. But she didn't want to risk giving him the chance to get away. If she did this right, she could take him down. And then all would be over. She wouldn't have to fear for her life anymore. She slid off her shoes and silently made her way down the steps. She could hear Maddox shuffling through her stuff. As she rounded the kitchen's island, she took a knife lying on the counter surface. Taking a step closer to the bedroom, a shadow appeared to her left in her eye field. She blocked the blow directed at her and the knife flew from her hand. She threw herself to the floor as Maddox tried to hit her again. She scissor kicked his legs and he fell sideways, knocking his head hard against the kitchen's island before hitting the floor. She immediately grabbed a stool by the legs and slammed him with it. She then rushed to her bedroom and reached for her gun in the nightstand. As she turned around, she saw his gun arm appear around the corner. A bullet hit the wall behind her as she rolled under the bed to the other side of the room; and hid behind her dresser. She suddenly heard struggling, a groan, and something metallic hit the floor and slid under the bed. As soon as she recognized his gun on the floor, she bolted from her hiding spot. She faced a terrifying scene; her heart skipped a beat. Maddox stood by the threshold and he was holding a knife to Castle's throat. Rick's eyes were huge, but she saw the relief in them, the relief he felt seeing her alive.
"Nice and easy detective," Maddox said calmly.
"Let him go," she punctuated every word through clenched teeth. Maddox shielded behind Castle's tall frame.
"You're going to put the gun down or…" he purposely trailed off. She didn't move an inch, her gun still aimed at him. Maddox moved the knife and Castle grunted in pain. A trail of blood trickled down his neck. Her grip twitched.
"No! Stop!" she panicked. "Okay, alright!" Castle's breath was coming out ragged.
"I put down the gun, you let him go," she couldn't hide the tremor in her voice. "You don't want him, you just want me."
"Kate, no," came Castle's strangled voice.
"Now," ordered Maddox. She slowly bent down and placed her gun on the floor. She then rose again, hands in the air, never taking her eyes from the two men.
"Good," he said, "now kick it over here." She sent the gun to far wall. And then everything happened in a blur. Maddox moved the knife over Castle's throat and swiftly bent to reach for the gun. Castle fell to the floor.
"NO!" she screamed as she flew to his side. Maddox turned and pointed the gun to her head and a shot echoed in the bedroom. Maddox hit the wall behind him and held a hand to his right shoulder.
"Freeze," Ryan's voice shouted. He stood by the doorway. Kate turned her gaze to Castle. His breathing was shallow. Her hands flew to the bleeding wound at his neck and applied pressure.
"Just stay with me Castle," she pleaded.
Officers entered the room as Ryan called for an ambulance with his two-way.
"You're going to be okay. It's over," she assured Castle. Tears streamed down her cheeks. A guttural sound came out of his mouth as he tried to speak.
"Sssh, don't talk." She took a shirt that lay on her bed and pressed it to his throat. She moved her other hand to his cheek and he held it there. The sound of approaching sirens reached her ears.
"You're going to be alright," she whispered.
Thank you.
