Magic: Chapter 11
DISCLAIMER: None of these characters are mine, but they are memorable. Thank you Mr. Marlowe.
February 23, 2012, 10:50 a.m.
"The bastard has been right under my nose – under my home – all this time?"
Richard Castle is incredulous, his mind racing to accept this new information. Because he has past knowledge of Scott Dunn, because he knows what the killer has done in the past, the implications of this new revelation are both staggering and terrifying.
"Hold on – hold on, dammit!" he barely hears Special Agent Jordan Shaw shouting above the noise in his loft, slowing down the train that is barreling out Castle's dorm, ready to storm the gates downstairs below them. She rushes toward the door, knocking the plainclothes officer aside, surprising him with her physical strength.
"Everybody just hold the fort here!" she shouts, blocking the doorway. The pure terror she sees in Jenna's eyes is matched by what she sees in the eyes of Richard Castle's daughter. For a split second, she feels a pang of sympathy – wanted simply to hold on to the girls – but the second passes, as she morphs back into agent mode. This needs to end, now.
Holding her hands up, waiting as the room quiets down, she continues.
"This is exactly what Scott Dunn wants us to," she speaks, trying to keep her voice soft to – if nothing else – calm the rising tension and emotions threatening to explode in the room.
"He wants us rushing, blindly. He wants us anxious," she continues. "He's playing you, Mr. Castle," she says, staring at the author. "And he's playing you, detective," she continues again, this time staring down Kate Beckett.
"And he's done this before. You know this. So stop for a moment – take a step back, and let's learn from this morning and from what we learned about this man two years ago."
"Okay, Jordan, what do we know," a calmer, but still highly agitated Richard Castle says, knowing that his mother is likely right below him in some sinister trap.
"Get to the point, Jordan," Kate Beckett states, tapping her watch for emphasis.
10:52. Eight minutes to go.
"I mean this," the Federal Agent begins. "First, Captain Gates, we left Agent Avery and the team of locally-assigned FBI agents at your precinct, pouring through videos. Please call them and change their instructions. Give them every available video feed – every live video feed – within five blocks of this building."
Captain Gates nods her head in understanding.
"Good plan, Agent Shaw," she agrees. "Highly unlikely Mr. Dunn is downstairs, given his MO, but very likely he is close by."
"This morning he was within three blocks of the theatre, watching us and talking to us on video," Jordan continues. I'm expanding that by two blocks – just in case."
"We also know that he blew the building this morning after his little . . . show," Kate Beckett states, realization of what Shaw is driving at now fully hitting her. "We need to evacuate this entire building, every floor, every tenant."
"Correct," Jordan says, her mind prioritizing a slew of thoughts and ideas, all competing for her attention right now. "Start with the girls here. Detective Esposito, please take this floor. Detective Ryan you have the floor above us."
She continues assigning floors to the protective custody officers in the room. Their priorities, too, have now changed, as this is no longer an assignment to protect one man, but to protect every family in the building.
"Knock once, and then bust doors in if you have to," Kate Beckett orders, as the detectives and officers walk out the door. "But get these people out of here, and fast."
"And one other thing, officers," Jordan adds suddenly, almost as an afterthought. "Once you get them out, you stay out. Do not come back into the building. Take up flanks, each of you watching various buildings for a sighting," she concludes.
"Got it," Esposito says, his military experience now taking over. "I'll get everyone in position," he promises, and Jordan simply nods her head, while Kate catches his eyes, mouthing the words "Thank you, Javi."
Esposito gives her a nod and is headed out the door, along with Ryan and the other three plainclothes officers and the two younger girls when Jordan suddenly stops them, rolling her eyes in frustration.
"Dammit, dammit," she says, turning to look at Alexis Castle.
"Alexis," she begins, "when Mr. Dunn brought you back to the loft here, where was your grandmother? Was she already in his possession, or did he capture her at the same time he brought you back home?"
"No, I don't think he had her yet. He drugged both Jenna and I. We woke up back here, tied up, and Grams was sitting on the couch over there, tied up and . . . she was . . . she was tied up and gagged like we were," she finishes, looking at her dad who gives her an expressionless stare, simply nodding his head.
"Okay, Okay, that's good," Jordan states, clearly relieved.
"I don't understand," Alexis asks. "What difference does that make?"
"It means that hopefully, he didn't have time to bug your father's loft with listening devices or surveillance devices," Captain Gates answers, now off the phone after speaking with Agent James Avery, still back at the precinct with his new instructions.
"And if that is the case, we might finally be one step ahead of him," Kate adds.
"Or if nothing else, at the least we might be on the same footing for once," Jordan states. "It's a chance we have to take. Okay, get them out of here," she says finally to Esposito, who moves the girls out with his team. Jordan is already moving on to her next thought.
"Last thing, folks," Jordan says now to Captain Gates, Richard Castle and Kate Beckett – the three of them – along with Jordan Shaw - are the only ones now left in the room.
"Steel yourselves for what we might see downstairs," she says, staring directly at Castle, who nods in understanding. He's been steeling himself, all right, for the past half hour. He knows this isn't going to be pretty.
"And remember, and this is important," she continues, this time starting at Kate Beckett. "In his own warped reality, Scott Dunn is a fair man. He's going to give us conditions. He's going to give us rules. If we obey the rules, if we satisfy the conditions, then his past history suggests that he will honor his side of the equation. So whatever he asks, we answer truthfully. Whatever he tells us to do, we do to the letter of his law. There is no negotiating with this man, and there is no 'almost' with him either. It's either Pass or Fail, Yes or No."
Kate nods as well, and truth be told, Jordan is not worried about the detective or the writer. Her thoughts, right now, are more centered on the Captain. This captain has no experience with Scott Dunn, and she's been captain of this squad for just a few months. Before that, she was in IA, where the horrors of the street are just a little farther removed. Jordan idly wonders how Gates is going to fare with her first face-to-face visit with the horror that is Scott Dunn – even if it is by video.
She glances at her watch – simultaneously with Kate Beckett – who glances at hers.
10:57. Three minutes.
"Let's go, folks," Jordan states, and the four walk out of Castle's loft, heading for the elevator.
"Uh . . . you know, maybe . . ." Castle begins, and Jordan chimes in behind him.
"Good idea, Castle," she says. "Which way?" she asks, and follows Castle to the stairway, the entourage in tow. It's a quiet sojourn down the stairs leading to the first floor, each of them caught up in their own thoughts.
For Richard Castle, he just wants his mother free. If Dunn gets away again this morning, so be it. His priority is Martha Rogers.
For Kate Beckett, hers is a little more convoluted. She wants Martha free, yes. But she also wants reconnection with her partner, and she fears what new information Dunn may share that further splinters their relationship.
For Captain Victoria Gates, she is concerned about her lead detective, who clearly is not on her A-game right now, and the other detectives and officers now throughout the building.
Special Agent Jordan Shaw, however, is of another mindset entirely. She does not expect to survive this next encounter. She has seen enough of the mind of Scott Dunn to recognize that he is approaching his endgame, and history tells her he becomes more ruthless at this stage. Getting the detectives and officers out of the building was sound strategy, but it was also a calculated move on her part to ensure they were not here when the shit hit the fan – and she has no illusions that the shit is – indeed going to be flying. She considers one more time, a reason to get Victoria Gates out of the picture, and quickly makes up her mind. The best approach, she decides, with the no-nonsense Captain, is honesty.
They stand in front of Apartment 1A, and Jordan stops and turns to Captain Gates.
"Federal case - my jurisdiction, Captain. Get out of the building. Now," she states, matter-of-factly, staring at the surprised and wide-eyed brown eyes of the precinct captain.
"Kate, Castle and I have to be here. You do not. If things go wrong, the precinct can't afford to lose another captain this quickly," she offers her. "You know I am right. Get out."
Captain Gates stares at the FBI agent, anger and understanding fighting for victory in her mind. Kate Beckett pushes understanding across the goal line for her.
"She's right, Captain. The precinct needs you – it needs its captain," she says. "Go."
Gates nods her head slightly, with pursed lips, and turns to leave. She takes two steps and is stopped by the arms of Richard Castle, who turns her and pulls her into an uncomfortable hug. Jordan is right, Gates did not need to be here – and the more important revelation to Castle is that Gates knows this. She knows she should get out, she knows her place is outside, calling the shots, not placing herself here in the fray. Yet here in the fray she has chosen to be. Not for one of her officers. Not for one of her detectives. But for his mother.
For him.
It's a few long seconds before he releases here.
"Thank you, Captain," he says simply, then turns and walks back to the door leading into 1A.
"Ready," he says simply, and none of them are surprised as the door proves to be unlocked when Jordan Shaw turns the knob.
"Showtime," she says, walking through the door.
The three are immediately greeted with the same circus music that was playing at the theatre earlier this morning, obviously triggered by the opening of the front door. The entry area – very similar to Castle's – is brightly lit. It is the sight in the living room which causes all three to momentarily pause.
The living room has been transformed into a small, Las Vegas style nightclub venue – the kind that specializes in magic and illusions. There are two large, rectangular glass tanks, each around eight feet tall and 5 feet across, both filled with water. Each tank stands in front of a long black curtain that hangs from the ceiling. A hastily made paper sign is stapled to each curtain, with the words 'Tank 1' and 'Tank 2' written on each, respectively.
On top of each tank, is a metal plank that runs the left side of the tank to the opposite right side, positioned in the middle of the tank.
Sitting on the plank on the left tank is Martha Rogers. Her hands are bound in front of her, and her feet are bound as well. A silver-gray strip of duct tape covers her mouth. The haunting element is her eyes, that are now burned forever into Richard Castle's memory. There is a bit of fear in those eyes, but more than that – there is resignation. The older matriarch has lived quite a life, often by her own rules and often as a result of her own personal tragedies. It's clear she is determined to meet fate head on, and the look she gives her son tells him that she is ready to meet her maker.
Richard Castle has to step back, grabbing ahold of the wall behind him. The look of steel in her mother's eyes gives him strength, however, and he pulls himself back forward, walking toward the tank, with three prominent thoughts on his mind.
First, his mother is in deep trouble, and it's going to be entirely up to Scott Dunn whether she lives or dies. The feeling of helplessness is a knife to the gut.
Second, and more horrifically, he realizes - without reservation – that Ellis Clark is dead. The older, single man, retired from the business world years ago, is another victim of Scott Dunn, because this elaborate set-up had to take weeks to put together. Dunn's MO is filled with the killing of innocent people in order to take over their homes or their identities as needed. The realization that Ellis has probably been dead for weeks shakes the writer to his core.
Third, and this is the thought he knows is front and center with Kate Beckett beside him – is the realization that she will probably become an orphan this morning. On the plank atop second tank to the right sits a similarly bound and gagged Jim Beckett.
It is the sight of Jim Beckett on top of the second tank that immediately worries Jordan Shaw. Scott Dunn's MO is very consistent. He plays a game, and he keeps the rules of the game, even for himself. His morning, according to Kate Beckett, Dunn indicated that her dad is safe. Yet here he sits. Which means one of two things: One – Martha Rogers is a dead woman. Or two – Dunn was lying to Beckett this morning, and Jim Beckett is going to die.
The Fed isn't sure which scares her more. Losing his mother could destroy Castle. She knows enough about his history to know that he has no father. Scratch that, he has a father who he has never known. So, no, he doesn't have a father. Losing his mother? She fears what that would do to him.
The other option is downright terrifying, however. Her one shot, her only shot – their only shot – in beating Scott Dunn is his consistency, which eventually can be profiled and predicted. If he is changing his MO, then their chances for ending this spree just diminished significantly.
Kate Beckett, for her part, is paralyzed. She is stuck in the mud, unable to move, unable to speak. Of all of the visuals she was prepared to see when she walked through the door, anything – anything – including her dad was nowhere near that list. She had – now she realizes, foolishly – believed Dunn, and now he has given her the kick in the gut that has mentally disarmed her.
"You lying bastard," she says softly.
The three words stop Richard Castle, who has been moving toward his mother's tank, in his tracks. He turns back to her and stares at her incredulously, before sadly shaking his head and walking the final steps to his mother's tank.
"Mother," he says simply, and tears that he didn't realize were even forming now run down his chin, and drop to the floor below.
"Mr. Castle, I have to admit, this is far more touching than I anticipated," Scott Dunn says. All three turn to the left, toward the kitchen area to the sound of the voice, immediately seeing the large monitor with Dunn's smiling face. This monitor is not hooked to the wall, but instead, sits atop a make-shift television stand, with a long power cord to the wall.
Jordan Shaw raises a single eyebrow, and if anyone were looking closely enough, they just might have detected the very small smile that crosses her lips briefly, as she takes out her mobile phone from her jacket pocket, staying out of visual range of the video camera embedded in the monitor.
"Got you," she thinks to herself. She quickly touches the wi-fi icon on her iPhone, then watches as the wireless networks within range begin to come up. Quick guesswork tells her that 'Stormy Heat' is Richard Castle's home network upstairs. 'Barcelona' is a personal name, likely belonging to another family. No, she is looking for a non-descriptively named network. She's counting on Dunn's brevity and efficiency to have simply set up a network and not given it a name, and she is reasonably sure he wouldn't have set up a password. This was designed for one-time use. It's a gamble. And she is positive he would not have used the home network of the occupant for 1A.
The occupant for 1A.
The realization of said occupants fate hits her, and she frowns briefly, then shakes the thought off.
"Focus, Jordan," she tells herself.
Then she sees it. 'Netgear44'. And it is unsecured.
"There you are," she smiles to herself. She quickly connects to the wi-fi network, and then pulls up James Avery's contact information, and types a text rapidly.
JORDAN: James. Abort. Code Pulse1. Am connected to a wi-fi net. Find me, grab IP address
She waits for no more than twenty seconds for the reply, and smiles at the ingenuity of her partner back at the precinct.
JAMES: Got you and your network. Searching for other connected devices.
Scott Dunn is talking, but Jordan is not paying attention. She figures she is going to die here – something tells her that he isn't going to let them – or anyone else – out of this building alive. But she can still make sure that James Avery and Captain Gates catch the bastard. Her heart jumps with elation at the next text from her partner.
JAMES: Found 3 connected devices. You and 2 others. Got the MAC address and the IP address. Tracing.
She nods her head knowingly. There is no more she can do on that front now. Avery has the MAC address for the video monitor talking to them in the room, and for the video monitor at Dunn's end that he is using. A quick trace will lead them directly to Dunn. No matter how this turns out, if luck holds finally, they will have him. Seconds later, she gets the final text she has been hoping for.
JAMES: Got it. Deploying.
She closes her phone and now focuses on the conversation in front of her. She's missed no more than a couple of minutes, and so far, nothing has happened yet.
During that time? Well, said conversation has yielded interesting fruit.
"Mr. Castle, I have to admit, this is far more touching than I anticipated," Scott Dunn says.
"What's the game this time, Dunn?" he asks, thankful that his voice has held strong and not cracked, not betrayed him.
"Well, that depends," Dunn answers. "Our detective seems out of sorts. I'm not sure she has her full capacities," he chuckles, seeing the still catatonic Kate Beckett who stares blankly at Jim Beckett.
"Dammit, Kate, snap out of it!" Castles barks to her, and his sudden verbal slap works, bringing her back to the present. The dull blankness in her eyes immediately replaced with the familiar fire, as her face hardens, turning to the monitor.
"Ah, there you are, Nikki," Dunn offers gleefully.
"It's Beckett," she glares, staring at the monitor while she walks up to the tank entrapping Jim Beckett. She is now side by side with Castle, with roughly seven or eight feet separating them as each stands in front of their parent.
"Whatever," Dunn states, waving his hand in dismissal. "We both know who you are, detective," he continues. "That's why I chase you so fervently, why I have come back for you."
Something about his tone begins to concern Kate even more, as this calmer, almost reverential version of Scott Dunn is far scarier than the killer she has come to know.
"When you first . . . defeated me, Kate, I was very . . . very . . . very angry. I really wanted to kill you, then and there," he tells her. "But I can't kill you, Kate. I find that you and I are . . . more alike than I realized."
"We are nothing alike, Dunn. You're a monster, and –"
"And you are not?" he asks. "How many men have you led along into your web, detective?" The malice is back in his voice now, full force, and the temporary softness in his eyes is now gone.
"How many have fallen down the rabbit hole of Katherine Beckett, only to be discarded after use," he asks her with plain disgust, more as a statement than a question.
"Exhibit A is Detective Thomas Demming," Dunn says casually, and the black curtain behind Tank 1 falls, revealing smaller tank, just behind and to the right of the tank supporting Martha Rogers. This tank is roughly seven feet tall and three feet wide. Inside the water-filled tank is Tom Demming. His lifeless eyes stare out at Richard Castle and Kate Beckett, as she falters. Castle, seeing her sway from the corner of his eye, quickly moves to catch her, her knees dragging on the floor. He hoists her back up as she buries her face in his chest, pounding on his shoulders.
For her part, Jordan Shaw chooses to stay out of the picture, out of sight of the camera. She won't leave the grisly scene, but right now, Dunn doesn't seem to notice her absence. She will use this to her advantage.
"Uh oh," Dunn says, still chuckling. "I fear I may have overstepped this time," he says, as the second black curtain falls to the floor, revealing a second, identical tank – this one with the still remains of Dr. Josh Davidson floating lifelessly.
Kate turns to look, but Castle holds her head in place, firmly against his chest. "Don't look, Kate."
He doesn't know what – or how – he feels about her at this moment, but she doesn't deserve this. He stares at the bodies floating in the tanks. They didn't deserve this either. And this is what awaits the two parents sitting atop their own watery tombs.
"It's Josh," he whispers silently to her, and her legs give way, and he allows her to slowly drop to the floor, his arms supporting her the entire way down. She looks weak, and defeated.
He's on his own, now.
