Trev
I walked down the alley, only a few hundred yards from Central Park. A guy dressed in business casual stood by a van, smoking a pipe.
"Jeremy, that thing will kill you," I warned.
The Brit glared at me, "Not you too!" he exclaimed, "That's what my wife says!"
"Not the cancer," I reasoned, "How many arms dealers smoke pipes in back alleys?"
"Good point," he said.
"Got my stuff?"
"Yep," he opened the back of the van, revealing a wide assortment of weapons. He pulled one out, ".308 Semi auto with a 24x scope?"
"Nada," I shook my head, "Too big, and I need to fire my second shot fast and accurately."
"Huh," he placed the gun back and drew out another, "Marine Designated Marksman, with a 24x scope?"
"Still too big," I said, "Good idea, though."
"Hmm," he smiled. Jeremy and I go back to my first mission. I never take a government issued weapon. For one thing, that is a paper trail that can be traced. For another, this provides me with contacts and a degree of , I think it could be Legitimacy, in the underworld, "How about this?"
I looked at the gun. It was a Squad Advanced Marksman Rifle(SAM-R). It is currently used alongside the Marine Designated Marksman Rifle, but where as the MDM-R was based off the M14, the SAM-R was based off the M16. This one was modified with a folding stock and a woodland camo paint. It had a 30-round STANAG magazine and a 50x adjustable thermal scope. Better, it had a suppressor, my favorite accessory. It was perfect.
Jeremy grinned at my obvious approval, "$2,000 for it and the requisite ammo. I'll throw in a free 20 round mag and it's ammo because I like you."
"Thanks, amigo."
I remembered what Booth said about Shaw. She's smart and resourceful. Nothing proves that better than the FBI perimeter that she set up.
Floodlights surrounded the perimeter, few areas in shadow. FBI guys were all along the perimeter. There were holes, but going through those would put you right in the floodlights, where they would tackle you too the ground like a cartoon football team.
Fortunately, I didn't have to sneak by them. On two sides of the "meeting ground" was woodland, the other side had a few sparse trees and that was it. The most open place was the pond side, but Shaw had that place covered too. She new I had sniper training. She was smart.
I put on my FBI windbreaker. Spend my weekends making these type of things. FBI, DEA, NCIS, CID, CIA, OSI, ONI, the whole alphabet. But bastards like Patriks and the rest like to "borrow" them. And do they appreciate all the work I put into these? NO.
I hid my SAM-R in a chrome case, the kind the FBI uses to transport equipment. With my slacks, leather shoes, briefcase, windbreaker, and forlorn look of never getting promoted, I looked exactly like your nameless, faceless FBI tech.
They had pulled back from the edge of the pond. They apparently didn't want to "spook" Tanner. Smart. And fits my purposes exactly.
One of them stopped me, "Hey buddy, where are you going?"
I lifted my case, "Shaw wants me to set up hidden cameras. If Tanner gets away, at least we will have a good picture of him for an APB."
"Makes sense," he shrugged, "Go on through."
I did. Good thing they didn't look at their watches. 1600 was fast approaching. I hoped Patriks was in position. I climbed a tree, which I had hung a camo bag with a set of spare clothes in the branches. Using years of experience, I quickly changed into woodland hunting camo. I brought out my SAM-R, fixed the stock, aimed and waited.
With the thermal scope, I could see through the dense woodland on either side of meeting area. Kate and Castle were two orange, green, red, and white.
One...two...three. I saw three colder human bodies hidden among the bush around the area. Patriks was already in position. I knew Bourne had hired some cannon fodder to throw us off. Luckily, I saw another, warmer body crouched in the bushes. Problem was, with this scope and in his position, I couldn't tell what was his head and what was his leg.
I cursed under my breath and waited for him to make his move.
Kate
I could feel a presence. Like someone if watching me.
Castle had his gun out, his eyes alert. If I didn't think that Castle had been a Spec Ops guy before, I did now. The way he held himself, the way he seemed to use all of his sense, sight, hearing, smell, feel, to look for Tanner scared me. It was like he wasn't even human anymore. The fact that Alexis being in danger brought this out of him made me feel sorry for any poor bastards that would think to harm her.
I tried to do my part. But from what I could tell, nothing was disturbed. Castle had always been the ones who noticed the small, insignificant details. Now I knew where it came from. It explained a lot. Castle's good eye for small things, his accuracy on the range, his basic knowledge of self-defense. Even the way he handled the gun during the Scott Dunn case.
I felt the air grow tense. I looked at Castle wondering if he felt it too.
I heard something. A whisper, the sound of brush moving. I wheeled around. I saw a man running toward me, gun aimed. I tried to raise my own, too slow...
His arms jerked right and the gun flew out of his hands. He jumped back, and scrambled back to the brush. I had my gun to bear. I didn't think I shot at his legs.
Castle' and my own shots were wide. The foreground became riddled with bullets. He scrambled behind a tree.
I saw Castle become a blur as he raced after him.
"Castle!"
Castle
This bastard would not get away. He came after everything I loved. Alexis. Kate. He would not harm another person.
I dove into the bush, and wheeled right. He became a blur as he drew a knife.
Nice try. Knife fighting was Amster's specialty.
I grabbed his wrist and twisted. I heard a satisfying pop! and yanked the knife out of his hands. I jerked him to the right and laid the knife at his throat.
In the span of 3.8 seconds, I went from Richard Amster to Roger 6, someone I swore never to be again.
And then I noticed the knife. An X was carved on the blade.
My old knife.
"Castle!" I looked up and saw Kate, "Don't do this Castle," she pleaded.
"No worries, Detective," I said quietly, "He knows where Alexis is."
Kate
"No worries, Detective. He knows where Alexis is."
These simple words. They weren't Castle's. They were cold and hard and emotionless. It was the voice of a killer.
"Castle," I warned.
"Book him, Detective," it sounded strained, as if he were struggling against something.
He FBI team burst onto the scene. Agent Shaw beheld the scene with a mixture of surprise and respect, "Good work, Castle," she congratulated, "Not everyday you can beat someone as good as Tanner."
I heard a cell phone beep. Shaw pulled out hers and swore.
"What is it?" Castle asked, now more controlled, more like his normal self.
She showed us. Another Text.
Meet Jason Bourne. You're welcome, Detective.
"It's not Tanner?" Castle sounded furious and defeated at the same time.
"Apparently not-"
Her cell phone beeped again. Another text.
PS: Alexis is back at your loft, Mr Castle.
Castle became a blur as he raced to the car.
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