A/N: The uploads come slowly, but come they will. Thanks to all those who review, and please continue to do so!

As the floor they parked began to tilt backwards towards the explosion's source, Castle put the gear into reverse and slammed down on the accelerator. He was trying to get out the side of the building right as it made contact with the ground. If everything worked out right, in his mind, they would drive away unscathed. Or at least it worked in the action movie he'd watched.

The windows and windshield of the car shattered, and the garage began to fill with concrete dust. The tilt quickly became steeper and steeper as they half fell, half drove backwards through the garage floor. Yue turned back to see the street approaching the gap between the ceiling and floor, and had a rather important realization.

Shit, the car isn't going to fit through there!

Yue pulled out her wand, opened the door, and screamed an incantation for all she was worth.

"Foa Zo Cratia Socratia! Septemdecim spiritus aeriales, coeuntes! Sagitta Magica, Series Fulguralis!"

The magic missiles flew out and blew apart the sides of the gap. With a great screech, the black sedan barely scraped out of the falling parking garage. As the rest of the building fell, a massive dust cloud began to rise. Yue and Castle tumbled out of the car, both covered in concrete dust. After a coughing fit, Castle called 911. As he put away his phone, he stared at Yue.

"What the hell was that?!" he shouted, arms raised.

"Hell if I know! By all accounts, we were just the victims of another goddamn bombing!"

"Obviously! Look, forget it. First we have to see if anyone around here needs help."

"I hope my motorcycle is okay…Beckett's going to probably arrest me for this…"

"I think she's the least of your concerns right now. Although I must admit, the way you blasted through with those lightning things was pretty cool."

NYPD, 12th Precinct

Yue was leaning back in a spare swivel chair holding a bag of ice to her face, and Detective Ryan was next to her doing the exact same thing. They both let out a painful groan and readjusted their ice bags. At least I managed to save my motorcycle…I don't even have insurance.

Meanwhile, Beckett was in the interrogation room with Castle, giving their bomber the angriest, scariest death glares they could manage. Castle's arms and hands had bandages on them from the cuts he received when his car windows were shattered.

Across the table from them was Nikodemos Vasilios, a Greek expatriate and the suspect of the bombing. A man of about 30 years, he had olive skin and dark curly hair, but the most striking blue eyes.

Beckett aligned her papers and folded her hands on the table. "Mr. Vasilios, we have GPS data of you approaching that parking garage, and walking away shortly before the explosion."

Beckett tossed some grainy grayscale pictures onto the table, and paused for a moment.

"Security cameras have video of you walking away without even looking back at the explosion, like you think you're some kind of action hero. You're damn lucky that nobody was killed, or you wouldn't be talking to me. You'd be on your way to Guantanamo by now."

Castle piped up "In fact, you might actually be going there anyway. You did conduct a terrorist attack on United States soil, and a Homeland Security agent has been dispatched here. Now we'll ask him to go lightly on you if you cooperate and tell us some key information. Who is the leader of the Black Hand? How are you affiliated with him? How can we find him?"

Vasilios began to quietly chuckle. "Don't take me for an idiot." His voice was low and smooth, and he spoke slowly as if calculating every word. He had a thick accent, but his English was otherwise flawless. "It seems I know your legal system better than you think I do. For the aforementioned Homeland Security thug to take me into custody, you would have to do so first. For you to do that, you need to charge me. For that to happen, you need more than circumstantial evidence. If you show me the explosive residues, the chemical residues, or even a remote detonator and connect it to me, then you have a case. Until then, I can walk out of here whenever I want to and I don't have to answer any nonsensical questions."

Beckett responded angrily. "Well you got one thing wrong. With matters of homicide or public security, we can detain you here for 24 hours as long as you're a suspect. I fully intend to do so."

"Fair enough. Come 10 p.m. tomorrow, if you don't have any evidence, I can walk out of here. Not to mention, you probably weren't able to get anything out of my jacket were you? If you're done with it, I'd like that back."

Beckett fell silent. She quietly got up and left the room, and Castle followed suit.

"Did he talk?"

Yue was hoping to get some information out of this guy. An entire day had passed and the investigation hadn't gotten any further.

Beckett spoke first. "He's clammed up behind a wall of rudimentary legal knowledge and complete lack of evidence. It's like he planned this out yesterday and watched CSI reruns right before basically letting himself get arrested. One thing's for sure; he's more arrogant than Castle in a public library."

"I will have you know that I have nothing but the deepest respect for classic literature and-"

"So the lab couldn't find any explosive residue on his hands or jacket?" Yue interjected.

"That's the baffling part; there isn't a single trace. Everything else points to this guy, including his demeanor and profile. Without any hard evidence, however, making a case for the DA is impossible."

Esposito walked up with a stack of papers in hand. "Not to mention this isn't the first time. He's got prior charges: 4 counts of domestic terrorism, each time the charges were dropped. Every single time this scumbag has slipped away because there has never been any evidence."

Beckett thought for a moment. "He's a professional and he's done this before. Look through this guy's contacts and financials and see if anything pops. It sounds like he's hired help to me."

"On it."

Beckett turned back to Yue and Castle. "It's getting late. You may as well go home and get some sleep. There will only be paperwork and other routine stuff for now. Come back here in the morning and we'll see where we are. I'll see you tomorrow."

As Beckett walked away, Castle was struck with an idea. "Hey, what if Vasilios doesn't need an explosion to topple a building? Namely, what if what we heard and thought was an explosion was not in fact an explosion at all? He could have used some resonance technology, like that thing Tesla invented."

Yue stared at him for a moment. "Castle, you may have actually stumbled upon something there. Is there a quiet place around here?"

Castle led her to the break room with the coffee machines. He poured out two cups of black coffee and sat down across a small table from her.

Yue began to whisper. "All of Vasilios' previous actions and demeanor up to now only make sense when you assume that he used magic to destroy the parking garage. That makes him a criminal mage, which ties him back to the leader of the Black Hand."

Castle raised an eyebrow. "What makes you say he used magic? He could just be some hired nutjob."

"Here's why: First, it offers an explanation for the lack of residue, because no police lab in the world can find magic residues. Second, it tells us why he's so confident in the face of serious charges. He knows that non-magical detectives, no matter how good they are, cannot figure out his use of magic. In fact, the better they are, the more likely they will immediately discard any paranormal explanation. Thirdly, it explains how he knew to destroy the parking garage we were in: stronger mages can sometimes sense the presence of other mages, in this case, me. My existence is our trump card."

Castle immediately responded. "The first two things make sense, but if he has 'sensed your presence', won't he have taken precautions against it already?"

"He's not that skilled. For him to sense me, he has to be specifically looking for me. He was clearly doing that at the parking garage, but this guy is probably far too arrogant to think that I survived. I don't think he knows that I am working with the police at all, or else he would easily just escape. He wants to be cleared legitimately and without the shadow of a doubt. That is where our advantage is."

"So, you want to go in there and show him who's boss?"

"No, that will happen tomorrow. I need his jacket to make him fully confess. Confession, for now, is our only way of getting this guy out of our hair, let alone pressing for more information. For now, to avoid his suspicion, let's just go."