By the time Esposito and Ryan arrived at the ambush site, Beckett had managed to stop the flow of blood from her forehead. The ambulance had been closer than the other detectives and one of the paramedics had taken steps with a few butterfly sutures and an alcohol pad to close it as best as he could for the moment. She'd also given Beckett a couple of aspirin, which took the very edge off the pain, both in her head and the rest of her body. Everything ached. And she forgot all of it when she saw Ryan drive up.

"Do you have an address, yet?" she asked Esposito, who was fiddling with his phone in the passenger's seat.

"Yeah."

Beckett opened the back door, but Madison put his hand out, blocking her.

"What about me?"

"Go home, Mr. Madison," she told him. "This is a police matter."

"But my sister…"

"We'll take care of it."

"But-"

Beckett didn't have time to argue, even if she could completely understand what he was going through.

"Go home, Mr. Madison," she repeated. "If you follow us, or get in our way in any form I'll slap you with obstruction charges."

She didn't wait for his reply. Instead she got into the back of the car and shut the door before he could say anything else to her. Esposito looked back over his shoulder, frowning at all the blood.

"You okay?"

"They have Castle," she said. "We need more backup."

"They're on the way."

Ryan hadn't even turned off the car, so it was a simple matter for him to weave through the traffic away from the area and then look over at Esposito for directions. The detective looked at his phone again, traded a few words with the main dispatch coordinator and then gave his partner a series of directions – which included a final destination.

"Looks like they have him in the warehouse district," Ryan said, needlessly. Beckett knew the area as well as he did once they'd heard the address.

"Let's get there," she told them, leaning back and closing her eyes against a sudden starburst of pain above her eye. "And tell everyone to go in silently until we have more intel."

"Already did."

OOOOOOOOOOO

"I don't have your diamond," Castle said.

"I'm aware of that," the man snapped. "I didn't ask you if you have it, I asked you where it is."

"I don't know."

"Bullshit." This time it was Jeremy who spoke. "I know Bridget told you. She couldn't keep her mouth shut."

"She didn't-"

Jeremy lashed out with the stick again, and Castle yelped at the impact.

"Where did she hide it?"

"I don't know!"

There was a moment of silence, and Castle opened his eyes and saw the two men looking at each other. He knew, though, that they'd never believe him. They didn't know where it was and the woman who had had it was dead and wouldn't ever tell them. He was their only means to 700million dollars and even if he swore on a stack of bibles, they'd be forced to not believe him by pure desperation and greed. Which was definitely going to hurt, because he was wracking his pain-befuddled brain and he had absolutely no idea where the gift was – even if Bridget really had told him.

The other man – and now Castle was beginning to think that this was Rogers – stepped forward again. He held up a small device in his hand and showed it to the writer.

"Do you know what this is, Mr. Castle?"

Too busy trying to get his lungs working against the pain, Castle ignored him.

"It's a stun gun, Writer," Jeremy answered for him. "Causes a lot of pain, but very little damage. Meaning we can play this game of yours all day, until you're ready to tell us what Bridget told you."

"She didn't tell me anything," Castle croaked. "All-"

"Liar! She was constantly in that damned closet with you. Talking to you, crooning to you, telling you all sorts of things, I imagine. What did she tell you, Writer?"

God. Not only desperate and greedy, but he was also jealous. There was no way this was going to end well.

"She didn't tell me anything," he repeated. "I-"

The man – maybe Rogers? – stabbed the end of the stun gun against Castle's side. Even though he knew it was coming, it still hurt, and Castle felt the muscles in that area freeze in the most painful way he'd ever imagined. It hurt so bad he couldn't even cry out, and when the jolt finally stopped, he sagged, completely breathless.

Jeremy stepped forward and grabbed him by his hair, forcing his head up.

"Where's the gift, Writer?"

"She…" Castle couldn't catch his breath. Luckily, they were both waiting to hear him admit that that he knew exactly where the diamond was and that he'd take them to it – if only they would spare him. Unfortunately, he didn't have that option. "She said… you'd kill her. And me."

"And so I will – and did," Jeremy told him, matter of factly. "But there are many ways to go. Tell me where the rock is and I'll put a bullet in your head and save you a lot of pain."

"Like you did her?"

He couldn't help it. He was a mystery writer and it was automatic that he would want the real story. Jeremy didn't seem to mind. In fact, he smiled.

"She was going to die anyway," he answered. "Bridgett was the weak link. I'm surprised she managed to keep quiet for as long as she did."

"This is all very nice," Rogers said, moving up again and pressing the stun gun against Castle's bare side. Castle tensed but the man didn't zap him. He just let the cool steel of the device do the threatening for him. "I want my diamond, Mr. Castle. Tell me where it it's hidden, or I'm going to make you very sorry."

With Jeremy still holding his hair, Castle couldn't hang his head, but he definitely felt like doing just that, defeated. If this were one of his stories, the Calvary would be coming for him to rescue him at the last moment. Three days tied up in a closet waiting to be found had firmly disabused him of that notion, though. He'd escaped that time – even though he didn't remember how – but he knew that this time there wasn't a way for him to get free. And while he wasn't completely sure he believed that Beckett was dead – he'd survived that car wreck, there wasn't any reason that Kate hadn't – he didn't have any hope that she'd be able to figure out where he was.

He took a deep breath – as deep as he could around all the pain – and shook his head as well as he could.

"I don't know where it is."

There was no warning, just another jolt of pain, and Castle jerked as his muscles once more seized.

"I can do this all day," Rogers told him, cruelly digging the metal into his side. Castle couldn't breathe and couldn't escape the jolting agony. He was going to die and he knew it.

"NYPD! Back away!"