For a long, and (she had to admit) scary moment, Kate wondered if she'd finally gone crazy, if her love for Castle had somehow unhinged her and she was now destined to forever see him everywhere she turned. She stared at the author, standing there in his vest, the word WRITER emblazoned across him. As if anyone was likely to forget.
"What are you doing here?" she finally hissed.
"Having a heart attack." Rick had grasped at his chest in a melodramatic fashion. "And I could ask you the same question."
"We're after the guys selling the RDX."
"And we're chasing Carol Flanagan's murderer," Esposito said quietly, stepping into view from the shadows beside a gaping doorway. He looked at Rick. "Could you make a bit more noise? I don't think they heard you."
"Sorry. She startled me. They startled me," Rick added, seeing Forsyth and Gault for the first time.
"Carol Flanagan's killer?" Kate asked Esposito.
"CSU came up with some trace from next to Maggie's car, a chemical residue mixed with a special kind of flame retardant. The only company that imported both of them used to own this warehouse until they went bust in the recession."
"CSU are good."
"You just have to know how to ask nicely."
"And stop flirting with Barrett. Lanie'll get jealous."
Esposito gave her one of his looks, then said, "We think they're inside."
"Where's Ryan?"
"The other side, checking if there's a less vulnerable way in."
"There isn't." The Irish cop slid up behind Gault. "Locked tighter than a leprechaun's purse. We'd have to break in, and that would be noisy. This looks the only way." He glanced at the open door, the darkness beyond inky and menacing.
"Then we wait," Kate decided. "Did you call for back-up?"
Esposito nodded. "Of course. Be here in ten."
"We still don't know anyone's inside," Forsyth pointed out.
Kate was about to respond when the wooden wall of the lean-to next to her face seemed to explode, followed a nano-second later by the sharp report of a rifle.
They all ducked back.
"Where?" Kate asked.
Esposito, an expert from his experience with Special Forces, said, "High. One of the top windows, to the left."
Rick looked at Forsyth. "You were saying?"
The Federal agent ignored him.
Kate took charge. "Ryan, Espo … get to the other side. We need to try and keep them penned in until back-up gets here."
"Alive, Agent Beckett." Forsyth checked his gun, one of the latest Sig Sauers. "We need them alive."
"I know." She looked at Gault. "Are you armed?"
Gault nodded, drawing a small handgun from somewhere inside his fatigues. "Not exactly an RPG but it'll do."
Kate glanced at Forsyth. "Make your way along to the end. I don't want to find out there's another exit we didn't cover. And give me the car keys."
He looked as if he was about to argue, but instead handed them over before heading off on surprisingly silent feet.
"You know, that was probably Feydeau who shot at you," Gault said conversationally. "O'Donoghue wouldn't have missed."
"Nice to know." She wasn't really listening, but was peering around the corner trying to gauge the likelihood of being able to make it to the open door without getting shot. Two bullets raising the hair on her head as they whined past gave her the answer. "He's not that bad," she said. "And Espo's right – he's up at the top. Gives him a perfect view of the entrance."
"Then Javi was lucky Feydeau wasn't in place a few minutes earlier," Rick observed.
An engine began to rev inside.
"That black sedan?" Gault suggested. "The one they used to take pot shots at us from?"
"I don't know," Kate admitted. "Sounds heavier. But one way or the other, if they're planning on forcing their way out, we probably won't be able to stop them." She held out the keys to Rick. "Here. Find my car and block the exit from the dock."
He stared at her. "No. Kate, I –"
"I don't have time to argue. And stay close to the car but not in it, just in case they take it into their heads to ram it. But be ready to move it when the back-up gets here."
Rick swallowed but took the keys. "Are you wearing a vest?" he asked.
"No." She was annoyed at herself for allowing Forsyth to put her in this position by hurrying matters, but just added, "It's in the trunk."
Rick tugged the Velcro straps apart and pulled it over his head. "Here."
"It's too big."
"I don't care."
She gazed at him for a moment, then took it. "Okay. But it'll be false pretences." She tapped the large letters.
His lips twitched. "Just be careful, okay?"
"Always."
He wanted to kiss her, but not in front of Gault. He settled for a hand on her arm then began to make his way back to the dock entrance.
"You didn't tell him where we left the car," Gault said mildly.
"So it'll keep him occupied for a while."
"And out of harm's way?"
"That too." She glanced around the corner again, ducking back as another bullet shattered one of the remaining panes of glass in the office window.
"So what do we do? Just wait?"
"No." Hunkering down she scuttled to the far side of the office lean-to, away from the sniper, and tried the window on that wall. To her surprise it lifted, jamming to a halt less than a foot up, but it was enough, at least if she wasn't wearing an oversized bullet-resistant vest. It was almost with regret that she laid it on the ground. "Stay here."
"I am neither a Fed nor a cop," Gault said. "Besides, I think I outrank you." He squatted down and interlaced his hands, palms up. "Shall we?"
Rick wasn't stupid. There hadn't been a time in his life when anyone could have said that. Misguided, maybe. Overly romantic, certainly. Blinkered … well, yes, on occasion. But lacking in intelligence, that would be a resounding no. So he knew exactly what Kate was doing. And why.
If he were brutally honest, it did give him a warm feeling in his chest, around the area he always supposed his heart lay, to know that she wanted to keep him safe and out of danger. The fact that it gave him the shivers because she was putting herself in the line of fire yet again also couldn't be denied.
As he hunted for her car, he couldn't help wondering why things were different now. It shouldn't be, not really. Okay, she was working for the Feds, and he'd asked her to marry him, but could that possibly be enough reason why he wanted to wrap her in cotton wool for the rest of her life? Not that she'd let him, of course, no more than Alexis anymore.
Maybe she didn't have his ring on her finger, but if it wasn't an oncoming train then at least he thought there might be light at the end of the tunnel. It seemed to him she might already be questioning her decision. He had to be careful not to push too hard, because she was just as likely to dig those four inch heels in and never come home, but if he gave her enough rein to test the waters … He stopped, wondering if he was mixing metaphors.
But the point was he'd accepted her job right from the beginning, had been thrilled and excited by it, even when they were being shot at. Except … somehow, ever since that night when she'd reached out for him, taken that final step into his bed, she'd been … his. He'd gladly have stepped in front of a bullet for Alexis, for his mother, if it meant they could go on living. And now Kate.
The glint of sunshine off a windshield made him turn right. That must be it – her car. He had to smile. If they'd pulled up just a couple of dozen feet further they'd have seen the pool car 'Sito had driven, and he wouldn't have had to start his career of ulcers and high blood pressure.
More gunshots behind him, then a noise that sounded like a small explosion but with no guts to it.
For a long moment he wavered, his feet wanting to run back, to throw himself into the line of fire, to do something useful. Only she'd given him something useful to do, hadn't she?
With a sigh he climbed into the driver's seat, feeling perspiration start on his forehead from the heat already inside, and turned on the engine, ready to block the entrance.
"I'm going in." Esposito had managed to bend a rusting metal plate that had been used to repair one of the walls enough to allow someone to shimmy through. The screeching noise had been surprisingly loud, although the engine revving inside mostly drowned it. "Stop anyone that tries to come out."
"How come you get to be the hero?"
"I'm more photogenic. Besides, if you stop anyone getting out, you'll be the hero."
"We should wait."
"Hear that?" Another rifle shot over the engine noise. "You really think Beckett's sitting on her hands?"
Ryan sighed. "Not really. I still don't see why it should be you, though."
Esposito shook his head. "Fine. Rochambo?"
His partner snorted. "I can't help feeling you cheat somehow."
"Me? Cheat?" Esposito grinned, then became serious once more. "Watch my back."
"Well, I was thinking of going shopping for baby clothes with Jenny …"
Esposito rolled his eyes then ducked inside.
Ryan stared at the double doors, padlocked, bolted and apparently rusted shut. This was so not a good idea. Not that he'd ever been able to talk Javi out of doing something he wanted to do, but he'd nearly always been there to back his friend up. He flexed his hand around the butt of his gun, settling it more securely into his palm.
For a long moment there was no sound other than the engine inside, and he could feel the sun prickling the skin on the back of his neck. Jenny would be out right now, maybe sitting in one of the many outdoor cafes that had sprung up, having a cup of tea. She really was going clothes shopping for the baby, although they weren't likely to be pink or blue. They didn't know the sex, and didn't want to, and he honestly didn't mind. As long as the baby was healthy, had all its toes and fingers, he wasn't fussed. Although a girl would be nice, if she looked like Jenny. But then again, he could teach a boy to play baseball, soccer … not that he couldn't do that with a daughter, of course, but –
A truck, its canvas sides flapping, burst through the doors, scattering fragments of wood and metal like shrapnel. It continued accelerating, and Ryan threw himself out of the way, feeling the tug on his pants leg of the vehicle rushing past him. He rolled, bringing his gun to bear and let off three shots. One disappeared through the back flap, another got a back tyre which exploded into rubber shreds, but the truck didn't slow or turn. Instead it hit the ankle-high wall at the edge of the dock and sailed into space, seeming to be about to fly across the river to safety. Gravity, though, had other ideas, and pulled it down, hitting the water with a grinding splash, the engine still at full pelt.
Ryan scrambled to his feet and ran to see if the driver had got out, but the truck was behaving like a duck with its ass in the air as it floated for a moment. Then the truck rolled sideways, air escaping in great gulps, and he could make out the driver's seat, empty.
The engine finally died as water hit the electrics, and the truck slipped to the bottom of the river, but Ryan was no longer watching. He'd had all too clear a mental image of an accelerator pedal wedged down with something, the brake released and a figure jumping back to avoid getting side-swiped. Worse, that same figure was even now creeping up on one of his partners, about to take them down.
He vanished into the dark interior of the warehouse.
"Barrett?"
"What?" Kate wasn't really taking any notice of the man with her, most of her senses intent on making sure she would be able to pick up on the bad guys before they saw her.
"Barrett. You said your friend was flirting with someone called Barrett. I just wondered if he was gay." Gault was keeping his voice low, little more than a whisper.
She risked a glance at him. "Seriously?"
"Just making conversation."
"Barrett is Alice Barrett, and Espo is seeing someone else. Okay?"
"Fine."
"Can we get on now?"
"After you."
She withheld a deep sigh, instead slipping around a corner. As she did so she caught her shoulder on the stack of crates, and they shifted slightly, a faint squeal of wood on wood swallowed by the engine noise. "Empty," she murmured.
"So it would seem."
She indicated with her gun for him to go down one of the other alleys and he nodded. Not waiting to see him disappear she continued on deeper into the warehouse.
For a large building most of the space seemed to be taken up by crates of one description or another, piled haphazardly on top of each other as if the owner had used it as a dumping ground. Now Kate knew at least some of them were empty that seemed even more likely, but it meant the place was a maze, built perhaps for some giant rat to go insane in. The name Ben crossed her mind briefly, and she made a mental note to let Castle know her cultural education was complete.
The sound of metal being hit and tearing made her stop, had her looking around to see if there had been an explosion, but the noise was gone as soon as it occurred. The sudden silence was almost as loud as she realised the engine revving had stopped as well, and she contemplated the possible causes. Probably one of the men they were after had tried to make a break for it, but she had no idea if they were both in the vehicle, or if they were even now heading towards the dock gates and Castle's car barrier. Just so long as he wasn't inside if they tried to ram it.
She brushed by another crate, but this one didn't move. Putting her weight against it, she tested it gingerly for any give, but it didn't shift, even when she put more muscle behind it. Whatever was inside was heavy.
Theorising that the weapons that had been stolen would be kept closest to the nerve-centre of the warehouse, Kate moved as quietly as possible, all her senses on high alert, not least because she didn't want to shoot Gault by accident.
A slight noise ahead of her made her pause, then she eased around the corner of a stack.
A man in fatigues, his blond hair cropped military-style, was bending over an open box of ammunition, a rifle on the ground next to him as he cracked the waxed wrapper.
"Do not move," she said, loud enough to be heard but not enough to startle.
The man froze. "Seems like you have me at a disadvantage."
"And I intend to keep it that way. Hands behind your head, Sergeant Feydeau."
The man smiled but did nothing else. "I must be famous." He turned his head slowly so that he could look at her. "I take it you didn't come in here all on your lonesome. I'll hazard a guess that bastard Gault is somewhere around."
"Put your hands behind your head."
"You know, I might have this place wired to blow," Feydeau said, raising his hands very slowly. "You thought of that?"
"You wouldn't," Kate said. "Not and risk your … inventory."
"Want to bet your life on it?"
"No." She moved a pace closer, reaching for her cuffs. "But I'm willing to bet yours."
Alive. We need them alive. Forsyth's voice spoke in her head, just as one of the crates above and behind her shifted slightly, and her attention was distracted for perhaps half a moment.
It was enough. Feydeau was on his feet and reaching for her, just as a handgun, small calibre by the sound but loud in its proximity, fired twice.