The walk from the entrance of the Medical Examiner's building to the morgue was a long and painful one for Javier Esposito..but it wasn't nearly as painful as the withering look that his girlfriend gave him as he walked through those double doors.
"Javi?" asked Lanie, the worry evident in her voice, "what happened?"
"I had to gain a suspect's trust...so he would talk to me," Esposito replied through clenched teeth.
Lanie was having a hard time believing her boyfriend's story, "By *letting* him bash your face in?"
"It's true, Lanie," Ryan insisted, supporting his friend on more than just the physical level. "The guy was pulling a crazy act, and Javi's little stunt here was the only way we could get him to talk."
"And who was this suspect, exactly?"
"The guy who was shooting at you and Beckett at lunch," Esposito replied.
Figures he would do this to himself on *my* account, thought Lanie. "I'm not going to be seeing this guy on a slab later, am I?"
"I pulled every punch, chica. I took far much more than I gave out."
"Does all this have anything to do with why you two have barely talked to me most of this week until now?"
Ryan and Esposito looked at each other and sighed. "Kinda?" replied Ryan, wincing for what he felt would be the inevitable tongue lashing to come.
It didn't happen. Instead, Lanie only let out a weary sigh, patting the clean, empty slab next to her. "C'mon Javi, get up here. I'll heal, *you talk*."
Lanie got to work immediately, letting her hands work on autopilot. The fact that she knew her boyfriend's body almost as well as she knew her own allowed her to free up her mind to listen to both Ryan and Esposito as they told her about their 'training runs', the Masterson case, the Dark Angels, and what happened at Dave Grenholm's party.
As she finished up healing the last of the bruises that were fighting to reveal themselves on Esposito's face, Lanie looked her boyfriend straight in the eye. "I only have one question, baby. Why did you feel like you couldn't talk to me about this?"
Esposito sighed, blushing as he thought his reply through carefully. "I was scared that if I told you about this that the other shoe would drop," he finally admitted. "It seemed like every time I discovered something good about being a Guardian that there ended up being some sort of life-or-death consequence to go right along with it. So when Ryan and I came up with this idea..."
"You were afraid that I would find a way to kill the buzz?" asked Lanie, raising an eyebrow.
"At the very least, we've been risking exposure," Esposito countered, "and I knew I would have gotten an earful about that..."
It quickly became Lanie's turn to sigh as she realized how far their ability to support each other had gone off track. "Javi, this afternoon, how many people were injured when Wilkinson tried to shoot me and Beckett at the restaurant?"
"Two," he replied, unsure of where she was going with this.
"And you know this how...?" asked Lanie.
Ryan and Esposito both caught on immediately. As Esposito's heart filled with compassion for his girlfriend's experience, Ryan answered her question. "Because you couldn't heal them without risking the exposure of your abilities."
Esposito thought about how he would feel under those circumstances, and his heart filled with compassion for the situation his girlfriend had found herself in. "Aw Lanie," he sighed, caressing her cheek with his hand, "I'm so sorry."
"Knowing that I could do something for those people, take all that pain away from them *completely*, and then having to make the deliberate call to *not* do it...it was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do," Lanie explained. She pulled Esposito's hand away from her face and enveloped it in her own hands, looking him directly in the eye. "Javi, these abilities we have, and the things we can do with them are pretty incredible. But they've also put us all in an incredibly delicate position. If we try to just stuff them in a drawer and forget they exist, then when we *do* need to use them we're more likely to wind up getting hurt by them. Not to mention how miserable it makes anyone to closet a part of who they are. We *need* to find ways to use these abilities...even if it's just practice. Yes, there are risks involved...but the risks are much bigger if we don't."
Esposito's face lit up with a broad grin. "You never fail to amaze me, you know that, Lanie?"
"I know," Lanie replied, her wide smile matching her boyfriend's. "It is nice to hear it sometimes, though."
"I'm sorry I kept this from you," Esposito admitted, trying to affirm his feelings with a gentle apology kiss.
As Lanie broke away from the kiss, she told him, "If there's one thing I've learned from watching Castle and Beckett all this time, it's that keeping secrets doesn't do a damn bit of good for *anybody's* relationship."
"Leave it to me to be the last one to learn my lesson," Esposito purred, pushing his lips to melt into hers once again.
As the couple started to deepen their kisses, a series of deliberate coughs brought their attention back to the fact that there was still a third person in the room. "I hate to interrupt," Ryan told them with a smile, "but if you're back to full strength, Javi, we do have a raid to plan?"
"You're going to the fight club tonight?" asked Lanie.
Esposito nodded. "It's probably going to be our best shot to get Mittleman."
"Then you boys should both probably plan to stop by my place after it's all over," Lanie told both men. Turning to her boyfriend, she then purred, "and if you want to stick around after that, well..."
"I think that'll work," Esposito returned with a smile.
Ryan rolled his eyes at the overload of sickly sweet affection coming from Esposito and his girlfriend. "Jeez, were Jenny and I ever this bad?"
"Worse," the couple replied in unison.
Captain Victoria Gates paced the length of her office, pausing only to stop at the window to the bullpen and watch her most troublesome detectives and Castle plan their strategy for the raid on the fight club. She watched Esposito move around the bullpen with a flood of conflicting emotions warring within her. I know I should just be relieved that Esposito's okay, Gates thought, Still, I just can't shake the idea that he was lying through his teeth when he told me that it "wasn't as bad as it looks". But then how is he walking around like that fight *never happened*?
She paced the room again, pausing at her desk to pull out a Manila folder she had only recently started to fill. Every single one of them has been lying to my face for *months*. But what are they lying about?
There's only one way to find out.
Ryan followed the dim light in the warehouse until he reached the meeting place Doug had told him about. He examined the crowd cautiously, looking for anyone who might potentially be an honest threat. The men looked to be from all walks of life: a couple of men wore work shirts with (hopefully) their name on them, and several men who seemed to have dropped suit jackets behind them and rolled up the sleeves of their dress shirts. Ryan smiled to himself as he realized that the smarter men had also gotten rid of their ties. A few men came in jeans, a few men were in sweats. The rest were in shorts and T-shirts...a concession to the heat and humidity in the air and the anticipation of sweat to come.
Ryan spotted his partner milling around with the crowds on the other side of the room, reaching out to him through the open mind-link. Any luck finding Mittleman?
Nope, replied Esposito.
How's the competition over there?
Most of these guys are complete amateurs, commented Esposito, but watch out for the guy in the blue dress shirt and the two guys in green polos. They're probably the most experienced fighters in here.
Ringleader?
Springsteen t-shirt and jeans hanging out in the back. Can't see his face, though.
Recognize anyone who can make us?
Not that I've seen.
Castle? Beckett? How are things on your end?
All quiet out here, Castle chimed in.
Beckett tilted her head, leaning just slightly outside the passenger window of the car they were sitting in to stake out the building. She scanned the area for any signs of movement that weren't in the fight club 'zone' that she was forcing herself to filter out. I'm not detecting anything between us and you, but keep in mind I can't hear a whole lot on the other side of you guys.
Keep us posted on your end. Hopefully we're right about this, thought Ryan.
We're right, Esposito chimed in. These guys are hooked on the adrenaline rush they get from fighting. No way Mittleman will miss the chance to get his fix.
The group surrounding them started to settle down as the guy in the Springsteen t-shirt moved to the focal point of the light and the circle. Heads up, Esposito warned the group, ringleader boy was one of the guys in the video with Mittleman.
You're sure? asked Beckett.
One hundred percent, declared Esposito. That's one of our guys.
Springsteen t-shirt coughed a couple of times to get the group's complete attention. "Gentlemen, gentlemen! Welcome to Fight Club. The first rule of Fight Club is: you do not talk about Fight Club. The second rule of Fight Club is: you DO NOT talk about Fight Club! Third rule of Fight Club: someone yells "stop!", goes limp, taps out, the fight is over. Fourth rule: only two guys to a fight. Fifth rule: one fight at a time, fellas. Sixth rule: No shirts, no shoes. Seventh rule: fights will go on as long as they have to. And the eighth and final rule: if this is your first time at Fight Club, you have to fight."
Ryan tried to make a connection with Springsteen t-shirt's mind to see if he had any thoughts on when Mad Dog might make an appearance, however, the detective was finding it difficult to concentrate with the man in the blue dress shirt sizing him up like a steer in a steak market. It was only when blue dress shirt moved on that Ryan was able to place his face. Javi, heads up. Blue dress shirt is the other guy from the video.
Blue dress shirt stopped in front of Esposito, examining him with the same scrutiny the man used on Ryan. "You're new here, aren't you?"
Esposito assumed the same weak, defensive position he held with Wilkinson at the precinct. "Y-y-yes, sir."
"First time?" Esposito nodded. Blue dress shirt smiled, as if he were remembering his own first time in the ring. "You know the rules now, boy. What's your name?"
"Ja-Javier, sir. Javier Esposito."
"Well, Javier Esposito, you're gonna fight first." Blue dress shirt scanned the room to find a suitable opponent for the nervous man standing next to him. He waved over one of the green polo shirt guys. "Dave, want to baptize the new guy?"
Green polo shirt number one smiled as he came forward. "You know how I love to fight first timers, Chris."
Dave removed his shirt and slipped off his shoes, encouraging Esposito to do the same. As soon as Esposito's shoes were off, Dave went straight for Esposito with a wicked left hook. Esposito allowed the blow to take him to the floor, then quickly shook off the effects of the hit as he stood up. Keep an eye out for Mittleman, Ryan, Esposito reminded his partner, and you should be able to get into Springsteen t-shirt's head while I'm fighting.
Don't worry about me, countered Ryan, trying to fight off a smile, focus on controlling your fight.
Me? Esposito joked, I could do this all day...
Uh huh, replied Ryan skeptically. He kept the connections between his friends open in the back of his mind and focused on digging into the mind of Chris, the guy in the Springsteen t-shirt. It didn't take long for Ryan to find the information he was looking for. Disconnecting from Chris' mind, Ryan told his team, according to the ringleader, Mad Dog is supposed to be here already.
Ryan's news disturbed Beckett. If he's supposed to be here already, then where is he? she asked the group. You're sure you guys haven't seen him in the fight circle?
Esposito scanned the room quickly, distracting himself just long enough to get nailed with an uppercut. I'm sure, he insisted through the mind-link, he's not here.
If he were here, Chris wouldn't be so worried, agreed Ryan. Chris thinks the cops have Mad Dog.
Beckett got out of the car, unholstering her service weapon as she told the group, I'm getting a bad feeling about this, guys. I'm going to do a quick run around the warehouse, see if I'm missing something.
Castle quickly followed his girlfriend, shielding the two of them quickly. Beckett stopped her boyfriend, though, with a gentle hand on his chest. "Castle, I'm probably not going to be spending much of this patrol on the ground floor, if you catch my drift?"
The wizard understood immediately, giving Beckett a quick goodbye kiss. "Call me if you need me. And be careful."
"Always," Beckett assured Castle, trying to let her love for her partner be conveyed in her smile. She jumped noiselessly atop a metal storage container, moving with a dancer's grace and near-blinding speed. I'm hearing a heartbeat outside the range of the fight circle, guys. My guess is it's Mittleman.
As Beckett got closer to the main warehouse, though, she picked up a sound that caused her to move with greater urgency. Heads up, guys. I'm hearing two heartbeats down there, not just one. And they're in close proximity to each other. If that's Mittleman, he's got company with him.
The tide of the crowd's favor turned slowly with every minute the fight dragged on. While the fight club regulars had started the match squarely supporting Dave, Esposito was gaining more respect with every punch he took. The detective was still standing a good five minutes into the fight. And he wasn't just blindly slugging away at Dave out of exhaustion. Esposito was still choosing his own punches carefully, occasionally hitting the group's 'lieutenant' with a flurry of punches and kicks that would leave Dave staggering for breath. Dave was stubborn as a mule, though, and Ryan knew Esposito's opponent would rather get knocked out cold than slap out or cry uncle.
Finally, Dave surprised everyone, including himself, by tapping out of Esposito's near-perfect submission hold. The circle burst into a spontaneous round of applause for both fighters, and three men hurried to help Dave to their feet. Dave held out a hand of respect to the victor. "I'm impressed, Javier. You're a hell of a natural fighter."
"He *should* be a hell of a fighter, though, shouldn't he?" a voice yelled out from the back of the room. "After all, being former Special Forces and one of NYPD's finest gives you a lot more fighting experience than the average guy, doesn't it?"
The group turned around to face the source of the voice. Guys, Ryan thought, it's Mittleman.
Does he have someone with him? asked Beckett.
Yeah, Esposito replied, Captain Gates. He's got a gun to her head.
Gates? Beckett cursed through the mind-link. Apparently she had decided to follow them to the warehouse and it all went south from there. Castle, you heard?
Yep, he replied.
They need you in there, Beckett ordered. She scanned the room for the place where her wizard would be least likely to be detected. Pop in to southwest corner of the room, it's darkest over there. And get shields up as soon as you can.
On it, Castle responded simply.
*Including* one on Gates, Beckett added for clarification.
Castle rolled his eyes even though no one was around to see it. Of *course*...
Beckett dive rolled off the roof and snuck into the warehouse through a back entrance. Keeping her weapon drawn, she approached cautiously, listening to the conversation between her team and the gunman as she went.
Ryan was trying to project as much peace and calm into the situation as he could, and while it seemed to be helping Gates, it was doing nothing for Mittleman. "Hey Mad Dog," Ryan suggested quietly, "why don't you put the gun down and we'll work this out like men? In a fight?"
Mittleman shook his head, a move which caused the gun to knock against Gates' temple. "No way, man, no way. This is my time. My time. to exert who I am. To make a name for myself. My time to finally be one of the rock stars of this generation. My time to be a natural...born...killer."
The loud crack of the gun's fire exploded through the air. Irving "Mad Dog" Mittleman, though, was not able to smile at his results. He was in too much pain. Mad Dog looked down, stunned, to see his intestines slowly falling out of the gaping wound left by the bullet he had intended to go through the brains of his hostage.
That image was the last thing he would ever see. Mad Dog collapsed to the ground, dead, surrounded by a writer, three detectives, and one very shell-shocked police captain...who was having trouble understanding why, and more importantly *how*, she was still alive.