The Long Game: Chapter 25
DISCLAIMER: None of these characters are mine, but they are memorable. Thank you Mr. Marlowe.
Somewhere west of the Hamptons, around 6:55 p.m., Thursday evening, March 22, 2012
Elena Markov puts her phone down on the passenger seat in her SUV. She smiles as she imagines Jackson Hunt's reaction as he reads her text. She knows that he was hoping for the best with Roy Montgomery. Her smile broadens as she realizes that his hopeful nature was that rare moment of naivety from the CIA operative. She – not for the first time – considers the notion that he should have seen through this ruse a long time ago. That he did not causes her smile to wane a bit.
She shakes herself away from such thoughts, and reaches back behind the passenger seat of the SUV to grab the large bag she placed there before leaving Richard Castle's beach home. She quickly opens the car door and returns to Roy Montgomery's car, some ten to fifteen yards away in the grass beyond the shoulder.
She walks around to the passenger side and opens the car door, and slides in, closing the door behind her. From this vantage point she has a good view of Route 27, in case a concerned citizen stops from the main road to help. Satisfied that she has time to work, she focuses on the task at hand. Reaching into her bag, she retrieves extracting forceps and works quickly, extracting the dead man's teeth. Less than six minutes later, she pours an acid solution into a small bowl she takes out of the bag. The assassin takes each hand, and dipping the fingers into the acid solution, burns off the fingerprints.
Elena Markov wants no evidence of the real identity of the driver once this vehicle is found. After all, the man is already legally dead. She will leave his wallet, with a driver's license and credit cards showing one Joe Marks, his chosen identity. She then takes out her burner phone, and snaps a picture of the now deceased Roy Montgomery.
Finally, she takes the wet wipe napkins from the bag and scrubs the blood from her face and forehead and the top of her head. It's enough for now, to get her back to the house. She quickly strips out of her blouse and bra, and wipes the residual blood splatter away. She's going to need a shower for certain, but for now, this will do. Quickly opening the door, she steps out and stands upright, throwing a sweater on. Her upper body is chilled from the coming night air. Oddly, it feels good against her skin. She quickly slides back into the passenger seat, and pulls down the visor and gazes into the mirror, carefully places the blonde wig in place, along with oversized, black rimmed glasses. She finishes the disguise with a large, fake mole on her left cheek.
For anyone who may stop to help as she walks back to her car, the blonde hair with bangs, the large glasses and mole will be the discerning features that will be remembered. Working quickly, she throws the tools and blouse and bra back into the bag. Satisfied that everything is in order, Elena walks away from the car for one final time, and is back at her vehicle seconds later.
She is fortunate that no one has stopped – thank God for small favors. Sliding gracefully into her SUV, the beautiful assassin takes a deep breath, and takes the gloves off her hands and throws them into the bag. Throwing the bag back into the back seat, she glances over at Montgomery's car one last time.
"Goodbye Captain Montgomery," she says softly to herself.
She turns on the engine and quickly pulls back on to Route 27 and drives a short distance until she reaches the next crossroad. She pulls over once again, and now sends a text to the cell phone of Senator William Bracken. She smiles darkly, knowing the reaction this is going to cause on his end.
"Found this on Route 27, just west of Wainscott Stone Road"
Next, she sends a second text with no words, this time only with the image of Roy Montgomery's dead body. She knows the Senator will recognize her handiwork - the knife slice to the throat - her calling card, her preferred means of execution. And make no mistake, this was an execution.
Pleased with herself, Elena Markov quickly performs a U-turn at the intersection, and begins traveling west back toward Richard Castle's beach home, knowing that this is going to be an interesting evening, for certain.
Somewhere along Meadowbrook Parkway, North of Long Beach, NY, around 7:15 p.m., Thursday evening, March 22, 2012
Senator William Bracken and his wife, Elizabeth both sit in the back seat of the speeding limousine, each lost in their thoughts. The political power couple has seen a rough twenty four hour patch, but now, finally, they sense a break in the clouds. The conversation with Roy Montgomery has invigorated the Senator, which gives rising hope to his wife. Truth be told, even though she understands the traumatic path her husband has just walked through, she has begun to question him, question his fortitude, question the role they wish for him to play. No one said this would be easy. She quickly puts thoughts like this away, wondering how she would have coped with this yesterday and today's developments.
It doesn't matter now. Roy Montgomery has seen to that. Both the Senator and his wife now look forward to time debriefing the ex-Captain from the 12th. Never one to overstate his importance, Montgomery has given newfound hope to the couple. Whatever he has discovered, they need to know, and know quickly. No matter – in a couple of hours they will be airborne in their private jet, headed back down to Washington, D.C., and their suburban home.
The ping on the Senator's phone snaps both of them out of their respective reveries, as he reaches into his pocket to retrieve the device. Not recognizing the number, he also realizes it is not phone call but an incoming text. The message is confusing at first.
"Found this on Route 27, just west of Wainscott Stone Road"
"Route 27. That's out in the Hamptons, Will," Elizabeth Bracken comments, looking over his shoulder at the text message.
"The Hamptons," the Senator thinks to himself. "That's where that damn writer and his clan are holed up, according to Roy."
The second ping to his phone, indicating a second incoming text, alerts him as he considers the ramifications of the text message. There are no coincidences, so whatever is coming in next has to do with Castle, or Beckett or-"
"God Almighty!" he whispers, his hands shaking as he views the deadly, grisly image laid out before him. Elizabeth – who normally has a strong stomach for this kind of stuff – begins coughing, choking on her emotion.
"Stop the car! Pull over, dammit!" he yells at Walter, who quickly starts looking for an area to pull over.
"Dammit I said stop the –"
He halts his barrage of expletives as the car suddenly brakes and veers to the right onto the shoulder. The car is barely still before the Senator is out of the back seat and through the door. He walks along the shoulder, pacing back and forth, a string of expletives rushing forth. His hands alternate from his hair to the back of his head, fingers interlocked.
Elizabeth steps out of the vehicle, but keeps her distance. She's seen her husband when the fury is upon him. He is a dangerous man when he is like this.
The Senator is not stupid. He knows that his friend has been killed, executed for what he knows. Rather, for what he knew. For what he knew and did not get a chance to tell Bracken. Now he never will. With his death, Roy Montgomery proves to Senator Bracken that yeah, indeed, he had uncovered the motherlode. And now he has taken that vital information to the grave.
A shudder goes through the Senator as his mind begins to race, considering all of the worst case scenarios that might have cost Roy Montgomery his life.
Worse – the way that Montgomery died. A single slash across the neck. Clean but messy. He knows that work, he recognizes that work. There are no coincidences.
Elena.
Back at Richard Castle's Hamptons Home, around 7:45 p.m., Thursday evening, March 22, 2012
Elena Markov walks through the front door – unlocked as it is – and is immediately greeted by Alexis Castle, who sits on the sofa in the living room with her grandmother and Jackson Hunt.
"You missed dinner," the young woman tells the older woman.
"It could not be helped, little one," Elena comments, giving the young woman a genuine smile. "Now, if you will excuse me, I need to clean up a bit," she says as she walks toward the stairs, all eyes in the room now following her.
"Where is Richard?" Elena asks, noticing the writer is missing from the group downstairs.
"He went up to his room," Alexis replies.
"Said he has some thinking to do," Martha chimes in. Elena glances at Jackson Hunt, who simply smiles at his friend.
"Indeed he does," Elena comments to the room at large. Then she addresses Kate Beckett.
"Detective, if you would accompany me," she says, glancing at Kate. "Please."
The word 'please' from this woman somewhat disarms everyone in the room, especially Jackson Hunt, who knows her all too well. Markov walks up the stairs, with Kate following, and goes immediately into the guest room. She walks into the bath room, with a now confused Kate Beckett in tow. Kate walks through the bathroom door, and is taken aback as the woman begins to undress in front of her. She steps out of her pants, revealing black underwear. Out of pure privacy concerns, Kate turns to leave.
"Do not leave, detective," Elena calls to her, as she pulls the sweater over her head, revealing her tight breasts. Her only bra is in the bag next to the sink, thrown there in haste as she changed clothes back at the scene of the accident. With her sweater off and breast exposed, Kate notices a few specks of blood on the woman's neck and a couple of drops above her chest that Elena missed during her cleanup back on the highway.
"Were you in an accident?" she asks.
"You could say that, yes," Elena says, then chuckles. The sound of her short laughter is chilling.
Again, Kate turns to leave, and again, Elena calls to her. And again, that single word disarms the detective. It sounds strange coming from those lips.
"Please, detective," Elena says softly, as she reaches into the glass-enclosed shower and turns the hot water on. "What I have is of great interest to you."
Elena then she stares down at her naked breasts, and back to the detective, and smiles seductively, damn her.
"Not these, detective," she purrs and quickly climbs into the hot spray. From inside the shower, she gives a simple instruction.
"Open my purse there on the sink counter, and take out my phone."
Pulling her eyes away from the woman in the shower, Kate turns toward the sink and finds the purse. She opens the purse and finds the phone sitting on the top.
"Thank God," Kate thinks to herself, happy to see the phone on top, as she does not want to know what else is inside this woman's purse. The less she knows, the better, and the realization strikes her that this is not how a cop thinks, this is not how a detective thinks.
"The passcode is 0124," Elena tells her. "Hit the Black Icon on the first screen, with an orange dot, and then hit play."
Kate does as instructed, mildly curious about the passcode, but dismissing her questions as she finds the black icon Elena speaks of. She presses the PLAY icon. She recognizes the first voice immediately.
"Hello, my friend. It is always good to hear from you. Where are you?"
"Leaving the Hamptons."
Kate gasps, falling backward toward the sink, her legs giving in as she falls back, leaning now against the counter. She recognizes the second voice, as well.
"The Hamptons? Does that mean what I think it means?"
"Yeah, it does. They know about me. I had to come out. Hey, we knew this wouldn't last forever. And I think Castle is closing in on the bigger truth."
As she listens to the conversation between her friend, her mentor, Roy Montgomery, and her enemy, Senator William Bracken, angry tears well in her eyes as a lone, guttural moan escapes from her lips.
In the shower, Elena Markov nods her head and smiles.
"How so?"
"Well, he knows he didn't do anything to cause you to change the deal, and I suspect that any day now he's going to figure out that Beckett didn't do anything either. She's got to be racking her mind right about now, trying to figure out what she did that left bread crumbs for you to follow. She'll figure out that she did nothing."
"You fucking bastard!" Kate screams at the phone in her hand. Years of questions, of unresolved and unexplained incidents are now being cleared up in her mind, once and for all. Elena Markov continues washing her hair, her eyes closed, taking in the scene outside the shower stall.
"That leaves you."
"That leaves me."
"Well, then you're right. Look, you kept her off my ass for years, Roy, so I have to thank you for that."
"You bastard," Kate repeats, this time much more softly, as hot tears erupt, flowing down her face, reducing her to a sobbing mess. Her chest heaves, up and down, in and out as she fights to catch her breath.
"Well, it worked out well for both of us, sir. Over the last couple of years, we've been able to get rid of Coonan, Raglan, Lockwood . . ."
That's what does it, as seconds later Elena hears the sound of retching in the toilet of the bathroom. From inside the shower, she simply smiles.
Minutes later, an ashen looking Kate Beckett steps out of the toilet room, and walks to the sink where she washes her mouth and face. A determined look is carved into her face, amid the tears that continue to flow, as she stares down at the offending device, the phone that has just torn her life apart.
"Kate," Elena calls to her, using her first name, as she shuts off the shower water and opens the glass door. She reaches for the towel hanging next to the door.
"Now open my photo stream, and go to the last picture."
Mindlessly, Kate does as instructed again. Seconds later, she finds herself staring at the lifeless image of Roy Montgomery, his throat cleanly slashed. She understands immediately who has done this.
For a few seconds Kate glances between the image on the phone, and the beautiful but dangerous woman who has just stepped out of the shower and is now wrapped in a large, tan oversized towel.
"How did you know?" Kate asks, her voice barely audible.
"I have worked for Bracken for a long time, Detective," Elena tells her, as she grabs a second, smaller towel and bends forward to wrap her hair in it.
"He doesn't share everything with me, mind you," Elena continues, "but he did share that he has an ace in the hole, a sleeper that he put into place a long time ago. When I saw Roy Montgomery with you, and realized who he was, I knew that he was Bracken's ace, his sleeper."
Kate merely nods her head, but her mind, her mouth – neither will cooperate at the moment. Elena recognizes the shock that has set in to the woman in front of her, and continues. The detective needs to hear all of this, and now. Not later.
"It made sense," she continues. "Roy Montgomery lied to you. And misled you. And kept you away from your mother's case for a decade.
Each pause between statements is like a nail being driven into a coffin. The words hammer at her, battering her into submission.
"But more important," Elena continues, "Roy Montgomery was part of the original three police officers who started this entire sad story. And Bracken knew all three. He blackmailed all three. So that means he knew Montgomery."
Elena allows this information to sink in, and she waits – literally for another ten or so seconds – before Kate looks up at her from her seated position on the vanity stool next to the sink, and nods her head.
"And I know Bracken," Elena continues. "He does not leave loose ends. Once a loose end becomes known, he eliminates it. You have first-hand knowledge of this, yes?"
Kate doesn't answer with her mouth, but her eyes light up. Yeah, she knows this.
"So the fact that your Montgomery was even alive spoke to me of two things. One, he made a deal, or two, he made a partnership. Bracken does deals, but only short term. Months, not years. So that left a partnership as the more likely scenario."
The assassin walks over to the sitting woman, and brushes close, then squats in front of her, the towel now failing to hide certain parts. Elena ignores the lack of modesty on her part.
"It is a sad game you have been placed into, Detective," Elena tells her. "A smart woman would find a new game to play. A smart woman would align herself with better players, more friendly players. Are you a smart woman, detective? Or are you still playing the long game? A game you had lost before you stepped onto the field of play."
Elena stands, and re-wraps the towel around herself, and takes her leave, walking into the bedroom. She turns however, and faces Kate as she walks out the door.
"A final lesson, Detective," she tells Kate. "A person who lies easily - that person can be deceived just as easily. Food for thought, yes?"
With that, she is gone, out the door. Kate sits on the vanity for a second or two, before standing and rushing out the door into the bedroom – but there is no Elena. She quickly runs out of the bedroom into the upstairs hallway where she finds Elena walking down the hall toward Castle's room.
"Where are you going?" Kate asks.
"To have a discussion with my brother," Elena responds, without turning around. Elena knocks on the door. Kate hears Richard Castle ask who is knocking.
"It is Elena," the woman responds.
Seconds pass, and then Kate watches as Castle opens the door to the woman clad only in a towel. Castle looks at Elena briefly, confusion etched across his face.
"Uh, Elena, is everything all right? Can I get you . . . some clothes?"
"No, and No," the assassin responds. "We must talk, Richard," she says as she walks past him. He gives Beckett a confused look, then shrugs his shoulders and closes the door.