Authors Note: And here is Chapter 5 of what will be a 7 chapter story. Warning that there are a couple minorly violent passages between Beckett and her attacker, though it is nothing graphic. As usual, spoilers for episode 6X09 'Disciple' based on the promo video and interviews from Tamala Jones and Andrew Marlowe. I don't expect this to be how Monday's episode goes down, this is all a work of fiction.
The echo of metal crashing the floor temporarily silenced the bullpen - officers and detectives alike turning with wide eyes and open mouths towards the conference room and the open blinds.
The internal reactions varied, depending on how much or how little the person liked Richard Castle. Hell, some of them didn't particularly like Kate Beckett, but they respected her. She was a good cop, one of the best. And the two of them together - for the annoying quirks and constant flirting - they made a good team.
The sight of the writer, bent at the knees with his hands hiding his face from all of them was certainly a painful one and the muffled sounds leaking through the walls were that of a wounded animal.
Whatever had happened, whatever Captain Gates had just shared - it was huge.
"Mr. Castle, I'm very sorry," she spoke again, her posture and tone showing a vulnerableness that Victoria Gates had yet to put on display for the writer and, with incredible rarity for her charges.
The team at work on the cases had combined upon the discovery of the photos at the second crime scene, creating one large task force that's primary function was now to locate Detective Beckett and the man who had taken her. The team had ran down every lead, processing time and legal orders being handed down quickly when it was one of their own at stake.
But it didn't change the fact that, in 20 minutes, Beckett would be missing for 24 hours.
They all knew what happened to cases that stretched that long, and their latest lead - the SUV had been spotted near Battery Park - had turned up with nothing but a bleached out interior clear of prints, fibers, and any other trace evidence.
But the note had been lying on the dashboard, a burner cell phone containing more photos and one 30 second video - taken from the interior of the car.
The video had caused the crash, the chair he had been perched on toppling over along with several piles of paperwork and a metal figurine from her desk - Castle's body slumping to the floor as his shoulder shook and a few broken sobs escaped his mouth.
Jerry Tyson's face still glared at them from her computer screen, the unconscious shape of Detective Beckett lying in the backseat, blood matting her t-shirt as the second victim, the one so similar to Esposito, sat next to her.
"Got your girl. We needed some time together - don't wait up," he had spoken, the camera briefly zooming in on his passenger before the video went dark.
The note had been an address and a time - the location being the same hotel which Tyson had initially been placed for his safety. The time was set for 12:30 a.m. - five hours from now.
Beckett's partner still hadn't moved from his kneeling pose on the floor, though the tears had stopped and he seemed to be slowly regaining control of his emotions. It was a tentative connection, but enough for her to dive back in.
"We are sending a team out to the location, scout the place and see if we can get early eyes on if Tyson is in the building already. If he is? We'll get him. If he isn't, we'll get him when he shows up. And we will make him talk, we're going to find Detective Beckett," she assured him, her voice gaining traction and steel in its conviction and determination while she talked.
"I…don't…." Castle stuttered out the words, his head giving a vigorous shake as he stood, "He wants me," he spoke, quiet acceptance coloring his voice, "Ka…Beckett is only in the crosshairs. This is about me - I figured out who he was, I shot him last year. This is revenge. I almost robbed him of his identity, the need to kill, and now he wants to take away something I love. He has history with Beckett, with this team. It's all a message to tell me what he will do unless I play his game."
"So you want to go to the scene," she stated, already aware of the answer.
"I have to go - if I'm not there, Tyson won't show. We'll be left with nothing," Castle answered a hint of panic at being denied in his voice.
"Then go ahead - Ryan and Esposito will be along with you," she agreed, lightly patting him on the arm before flipping off her computer screen.
The temperature had steadily cooled off, leaving Kate curling her torso towards her legs to use her body heat at an attempt to ward off the shivering. She'd even fallen into a nap, jolting awake with a start at the horn of a passing tugboat.
That had been roughly an hour before she heard the scrap of a door at the opposite end of the warehouse, its opening providing a glimpse of the Hoboken skyline, the water and dock that stretched between them as Tyson stepped through the door - the echo of a bolt sliding into place following the slam of the metal door.
"Don't worry, Beckett. Your boy will be here soon, I left him a nice little clue," Tyson drawled, steady steps leading him directly towards her. His hands were free, no knife or other weapon being drawn out to cause more pain though his concept of personal space seemed to have evaporated as he crouched in front of her and leaned in.
"The thing is, though, you won't be alive when he gets here - I just thought I'd be nice and let you know he'll show up to find you," he shrugged, one hand snaking around the chain and jerking it upward to pull her to her feet.
She tried to resist, tensing her muscles and pressing her heels to the floor, feeling the delicate skin across both of them and all ten toes ripping as the force of gravity pulled her upright, the whiplash enough from the jolt throwing her head forward and making her wince.
"Now, Detective., It's time for a little fun," he said, dodging the kick she aimed towards him easily as the chain slithered free of the pipe and Tyson gave it another jerk, leading her to the middle of the room.
Kate again tried to fight him off, using her legs to nail two jabs to his rips. And while he stumbled, the chain remained in his hands, dragging her across the room. Her third attempt was harder, Tyson's breath leaving him in a wheeze before he snarled in frustration, raising one fist to connect it directly against her jaw.
It was enough to make her stumble, a groan coming out other mouth as her vision went white, the pain radiating from her jaw across her entire face and into her skull as her eyes watered. But Kate stayed on her feet, swaying slightly as he dropped several more punches against her body, ending with several jabs to her injured arm that left her screaming and in enough pain to almost black out.
The pain was all she could feel for a while, though she was aware that her arms were being lifted above her head and could feel the sensation of her feet leaving the floor. The metallic clink of the chain and Tyson's ragged breathing filled the space, the click of two heavy locks sliding into place above her head filling her with a level of fear that she had, until now, kept carefully controlled.
But she knew this was it - her position mimicking that of how the body of Pam Hodges, Lanie's double, had been suspended. That, like everything else, Tyson was leaving her in the position of the other murder to leave another message.
If Kate stretched her toes she could just touch the ground to give herself some support though it made every muscle in her legs and thighs protest. The weight of the chain already put pressure on her arms and shoulders, the pain still slicing in hot licks across her skin and muscle as she sucked in lungfuls of air to prevent herself from sobbing.
Her breath escaped in a burst of air, the hose in his hand finally making sense as ice cold water seared her skin and immediately began to chill her to the bone. It could have lasted for minutes, or for seconds, she couldn't tell as the water soaked her clothes and her skin, long streams sneaking into her mouth and down her throat, leaving it on fire as she tried to expel the fluid from her lungs.
Then it was the knife, the blade slicing another shallow cut along her torso. It wasn't deep enough to hit organs, but it still hurt, Kate gritting her teeth against the pain as she tried to twist her body away while she hung suspended from the chain.
And then there was nothing, just the feel of Tyson's eyes on her as she shivered in the cold air and gasped for breath, her toes stretching to the floor to support some of her weight.
The smile on Tyson's face was lazy, one of satisfaction as he glanced at his watch, slowly withdrawing another syringe from the pocket of his coat. "I'm sure you want to know why. Why I came after you, why those two bodies look so much like Lanie Parrish and Javier Esposito…" he spoke quietly, pulling the cover off the needle and waving it beside her as she twisted away from him again.
"You are a pawn, Beckett. All three of you - taken and mutilated in the name of revenge. Your boyfriend tried to kill me, and he failed. He took my carefully built life and destroyed it, and provided me a challenge that no one else has even come close too. So its exciting for me, knowing that I'm the one who can destroy his life, that I'm the one who puts an end to Nikki Heat and Jameson Rook. That I'm the one ending your partnership," he continued, rocking back on his heels for a moment before the needle broke the skin on her neck and the fluid was pushed into her body.
"What better way to get his, and your, attention than by focusing on the two friends of yours who can't find a happy ending? The two who crashed and burned - just like his life will once you are dead," Tyson finished, flicking the needle onto the floor as he took several steps backwards, "Farewell, Katherine Beckett - I'll be sure to give my regards at your funeral."