Judas: Chapter 10
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DISCLAIMER: Most of these characters are not mine at all, but they are memorable. Thank you, Mr. Marlowe. The others? Yeah, they're mine
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Roughly 1:20 p.m. West Coast Time on Thursday, April 26, 2012, back at the Castles Complex in Sausalito, California
The room is silent as Sam Carlos allows his friends to process the information he and Willie Crockett have just laid in their laps. He doesn't envy either of them, which is why he felt this conversation needed to be in person, and not on the telephone. And it is certainly not something you text a friend.
Richard Castle stares for a few seconds at his fingers, entwined with those of Kate Beckett. For a few extra seconds, he stares at the engagement ring on her finger. Against his current mood, he smiles as he catches the sparkle of the diamond.
Just as quickly, the moment is over.
"So, what you are telling me," Castle begins, "is that the man who is responsible for my current affliction . . . who was responsible for the attack on these premises . . . he is the one who wanted my daughter kidnapped?"
Sam Carlos can feel empathy for his friend. He knows that Richard Castle had put the kidnapping behind him. It was firmly in the rear-view mirror. All that mattered was that his daughter was safe and sound and home with him.
That is all that mattered.
Until now.
"Richard," Sam begins, "let me be perfectly frank. Do I know for certain that this is the doings of Councilman Adams? No. If you put a gun to my head, I would tell you I am 90% there, but in a case like this, that final 10% is a long road."
"It would seem to be far too much of a coincidence that it is not him," adds Willie Crockett. "But as Mr. Carlos stated, this is not something we know for certain, and therefore, Mr. Carlos is not ready to act on this just yet."
"But we felt it disingenuous not to at least share this concern with you, now," Carlos continues. "After all, there is only one enemy you have made here on the west coast."
"That we know of," Willie Crockett adds.
"Which brings us to reason number two that we are here," Carlos continues. "It would be a grave mistake for us to assume that you have not made other enemies."
"So, our question, Richard," Carlos asks, "is simply this. Who else do you think you have sufficiently put off who would want to hurt you in this manner? And please, before you say 'no one', I want you to think very long and –"
The buzzing in his pocket interrupts Sam Carlos' thoughts and words. He quickly reaches into his pocket, glancing at the incoming caller ID.
"My apologies, my friends," he states affably. "I must take this call. It is pertinent . . . or may be pertinent to our conversation. Is there a place where I can –"
"Right this way," Richard Castle tells him, standing quickly and leading him out the French doors of his office which lead to a small courtyard.
"No one will bother you here," Castle tells his friend, as he closes the door behind Sam Carlos, giving him the privacy that he needs. He walks back to the conference table in his office, sitting down once again with Kate and Willie Crockett.
"He said this might have something to do with what we are talking about?" Kate asks Willie.
"Yes, that is what he said," Crockett chuckles. Kate and Richard Castle both share the chuckle with Sam Carlos' right-hand man.
"I guess that's all we are going to get out of him," Kate muses aloud to Castle.
"Talking about me as though I am not here," Crockett laughs. "How rude."
The trio break into nervous laughter, and all realize is it a release of tension that has been building for the past fifteen minutes or so.
"How long do you think he will be?" Kate asks Crockett.
"Not sure," Crockett replies. "It could be a few minutes. It could be more. Why do you ask?"
"Well," Kate pauses as she glances at Richard Castle. "You have never been here. You have never seen this place. I thought maybe a shortened tour might be –
"Ah, I understand," Crockett interrupts. "But you forget, Miss Beckett, I –"
"It's Kate, Willie," she corrects.
Crockett smiles, a genuine smile, similar to the smile they saw back in New York at Richard Castle's old loft, now owned by his mother, after Alexis was brought back safely.
"I stand corrected, Kate," he continues, still smiling. "As I was stating, you forget that I have – in fact – been here. I was on the premises the night of the attack. I was back-up of sorts, if you remember."
"Right, right, that's right," she remembers. "But that was late at night, and I am going out on a limb to think that you didn't really get to take in everything here in this place. If you like, I can give you a quick tour while Rick waits for Sam to finish his call."
"Errrrmmm," Crockett mumbles, thinking for a moment. "Actually, I think it best I stay right here. If Mr. Carlos is out and about – even here amongst friends – it is my duty to stay close by within striking distance."
Striking distance.
For a moment, even though he knows who is dealing with, and the havoc this man has wrought earlier this week on the east coast, the words still startle Richard Castle. For just a moment, however. He quickly recovers.
"Willie, if Sam needs protection here . . . in this place," Castle remarks, "then we all are in more trouble than we realize."
"Very true," Kate agrees. "Still, we respect your wishes, Willie. And we understand completely."
"I appreciate that," Willie nods, then shifts gears as they wait.
"So how many women are here now, Rick?" Crockett asks.
"Just at one hundred now, as of this morning," Castle responds. "We just admitted a mother with two girls."
"Is that pretty normal now?" Crockett asks. "Families, I mean?"
"It is more common than I imagined when we first built this place," Castle replies. "Right now, I'd say a good thirty-five to forty percent of women bring children here with them. It's sad . . . but it is also good. It is good to get a mother and her kids out of a bad situation."
"A dangerous situation," Kate adds, with emphasis.
"Indeed," Crockett agrees. "You really are doing good work here. A necessary service for this city."
Suddenly, the door to Richard Castle's office swings open, after a couple of knocks on the door. Mike Monroe and Lindy Matthews walk in, a quickness to their steps. They glance around, finding Richard Castle, then relax visibly.
"Worried about something?" Willie Crockett smiles, and it is a mixture of his genuine smile and a hint of something more.
"No," Monroe responds, which is not entirely true.
"We just finished rounds, and came into the admin building, and saw Dr. Peraza," he continues.
"And she told us we had VIP visitors here in the office," Lindy adds.
"So, we wanted to come . . . and say hello," Monroe offers sheepishly.
Crockett laughs out loud, as does Kate Beckett, at the absurd moment playing out before them. The laughter finally disarms the incoming duo.
"Okay, give me a break," Monroe laughs. "It's not often –"
"It's not ever," Lindy interrupts, correcting him.
"Yes . . . it's not ever that Mr. Sam Carlos has visited us here," Monroe explains. "We couldn't just assume it was for cake and coffee."
The laughter in the room grows more raucous as Willie Crockett considers their words.
"I can assure you, Mr. Carlos is not a cake and coffee kind of man," Crockett continues, still chuckling under his breath. He likes these people. He truly likes them. The realization that he is lighter, he is less stoic, more at ease with these people is not lost on him.
"We owe you some serious thanks for getting red back," Mike continues, shaking the large black man's hand. Mike Monroe is a big man, but Crockett has him by an inch and probably twenty pounds.
"It was my pleasure," Crockett replies, still smiling but growing more serious.
"I read the reports in the New York Times online," Lindy adds. "I have to say, you do have a subtle side to you, don't you?"
Her sarcasm brings more laughter to the room.
Yeah, he likes this people. There is no judging. And something else. There is no fear. It hits him all at once.
These people do not fear him.
Yes, they know what he is capable of. They have no illusions as to who he is, or what he is. Yet he does not see any fear, or any judgement from any of them.
It is refreshing in his line of work.
The conversation continues for another few minutes, the discussions light-hearted between the friends-slash-comrades in arms.
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Five minutes ago, still at the Castles Complex in Sausalito, California in one of the residences on the campus
Elena Markov stands a good four feet from the window in living room of her residential unit at the Castles. She smiles at her fortune for being placed in one of the two second floor units of the foursome in this building. The upper floor gives her a better vantage point for surveillance such as this.
She smiles again at her even better fortune that no one checked the woman's small suitcase that she brought with her to the campus. It was an even-odds calculation that – security aside – no one is going to rummage through the bags of a woman escaping abuse. That calculation now is paying dividends, as she is using binoculars that she brought with her for this mission.
Her gaze travels around the campus administration building and the surrounding area, which are in front of her, across a small grassy plain with mature trees around. It is clear that this was a forest area of some type, and parts of it were cleared out to make way for these buildings.
She is rolling her sights from one location to another, taking them in, learning as much about the topology when a door to the administration building opens, and out steps an immaculately-dressed man. She refocuses the lens of the binoculars, tightening her gaze when the identity of the man almost causes her to gasp.
She has never met Sam Carlos. But she has been warned about Carlos by both Barry Adams and Elizabeth Bracken. And such warnings caused her to do her own internet research to find out as much as she can about the man. And while there are not a lot of recent photographs taken of the man, there were enough for her to remember his face for certain.
"My, my, Mr. Sam Carlos," she whistles out loud. "It seems that you and the host of this campus truly are as close as Barry fears."
Immediately, she moves her gaze to the left and right, as if searching for someone.
"And if you are here, your bodyguards must be close by," she continues. "Perhaps it is the massive Asian. Or perhaps the large black man who apparently wrecked such havoc back in New York this week."
A few quick glances show her that the man, amazingly, is by himself. At least at this moment, outside. She quickly makes a field decision. Yes, this is supposed to be nothing more than a reconnaissance mission, to gather intelligence for Adams to sift through. But opportunities such as this do not present themselves often and must never be ignored.
That is a lesson the assassin/soldier has learned after many missions.
She quickly turns, tossing the binoculars on to the bed, while digging deeper into her suitcase. She retrieves three items, and in less than thirty seconds, has the powerful rife with scope assembled and atop her shoulder, as she pulls the San Francisco mobster into her sights.
"A bad time for a phone call," she smiles to herself, as her finger slightly caresses the trigger.
A commotion from the tree just to the right of her window saves Sam Carlos' life. A red-tailed hawk flies into the tree coverage, causing an explosion of smaller birds to flee the safety and the tree branches and leaves, bringing with them a cacophony of frightened noise.
Elena Markov lowers the weapon, taking a couple of deep breaths, blinking twice before replacing the rifle against her shoulder, searching for her prey in the sights. She moves the weapon to the left and again to the right before realizing that Sam Carlos has returned to the safety found inside the building.
"Lucky," she tells the empty room. "Very lucky."
She lowers the weapon, quickly disassembling the rifle in easy, fluid motions, placing it back into the suitcase, and zipping up the hidden slot. But her mind is racing now, and none of these thoughts are good.
Yes, Barry Adams has told her that Richard Castle and this Sam Carlos character were friends. But out-in-the open friends like this?
"Barry needs to be told of this," she muses aloud to herself. She again begins wondering if she has stepped into the lion's den without a weapon, her rifle notwithstanding. She doesn't like surprises. The purpose of this visit yes – is to get a lay of the land. But seeing this man here is not good news.
She knows men of the other side of the ledger, and it takes something of value, of concern, or danger to bring them out into public like this with someone like a Richard Castle, in a place like this. That 'something' – whatever it may be – is what is on her mind right now, as she retrieves her phone and begins a typing a text.
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Present time again, back inside the Richard Castle's office at the Castles Complex in Sausalito, California
The discussions between Rick Castle, Kate Beckett, Mike Monroe, Lindy Matthews and Willie Crockett come to a rapid hush with the re-emergence of Sam Carlos through the same set of doors that led him outside for privacy. His demeanor tells everyone that the light-hearted conversations are finished for the moment.
"Sam?" Kate Becketts wonders aloud toward her friend, as she watches him walk a direct bee-line to Richard Castle, who stands beside her.
"Sam?" Castle mimics the woman he loves.
Carlos stops in front of the couple, eyeing Richard Castle with a steel gaze.
"There is much to tell, my friends," Carlos begins. "I just had a conversation with one of my . . . interns."
"Excuse me?" Castle asks, confused. Kate, however, quickly catches on. She recalls Detective Jennifer Blackard telling her that the nickname that has stuck with Sam Carlos is 'the professor.' That he would have 'interns' isn't that far out of the realm of reason.
"That is a . . . unique name for informants," Kate remarks to her old college friend.
"Astute of you to catch on that quickly, Katie," Carlos replies with a slight smile. The smile fades as he bores his gaze back onto Richard Castle.
"Earlier this morning, when Mr. Vulcan Simmons informed us that Elizabeth Bracken was behind the taking of your daughter, I had to ask myself why. That was one piece of the puzzle. But then I remembered what Mr. Simmons told you, Willie, under great duress," he tells his right-hand man.
"I believe the words of a man when placed under the type of duress Willie commands," Carlos continues to the room at large. "And he told you that whoever did this did so as a favor to someone. We now suspect that someone is Councilman Adams. But it doesn't make sense to me . . . or at least it didn't until this information from this phone call."
Carlos pauses for a moment, glancing around.
"Mr. Castle . . . Richard . . . can I trouble you for a glass of water, please," he requests of the host of the campus.
"Yes, yes, I am sorry," Castle apologies. "Where are my manners . . . Willie?"
"Yes, that would be fine, thank you," Willie Crockett replies. The room watches Castle walk to the sink, reaching upward to the cabinet above and grabbing two glasses. He quickly fills them with water from the sink, bringing to their two guests.
"Thank you, my friend," Sam Carlos tells him, then turns toward the windows, staring outside at the beautiful campus. He keeps his gaze outward for a couple of sips of water before turning back to the group.
"The words of Mr. Simmons this morning made me place a call to my intern," Carlos begins. "I am truly dissatisfied that I allowed something like this to slip below my radar, to grow and fester right within my plain sight."
"Hmmph," both Richard Castle and Kate Beckett hear coming from Willie Crockett. And sure enough, they and Mike and Lindy once again witness the transformation in Crockett from astute and polished to nothing short of frightening and dangerous. For Mike and Lindy, it is their first time seeing this transformation, and takes both of them aback.
Crockett has no idea what his boss is getting ready to share. But he knows Sam Carlos. He knows the man's mannerisms. And what he sees in Carlos right now is simmering anger and determination.
"If Mrs. Bracken is doing this as a favor to our city councilman, then my natural question is why? And how do the two know each other in the first place?"
"Exactly," Willie Crockett whispers to no one in general.
"So, that was my inquiry of my intern. To find out," Carlos continues. "There are some things I already knew about Barry Adams. Only child of a single mom. There are many such women and children, and to my discredit, I paid no further attention to his back history."
Richard Castle slowly reaches for the hand of Kate Beckett. The tingling in the back of his neck is on fire, and he instinctively knows something is coming.
"Had I searched more, dug a little deeper beyond young Barry's exploits here on the west coast, I would have discovered that he and his mother are transplanted from the east coast."
"No," Kate Beckett says aloud, now squeezing the hand that holds hers.
"They moved her when she was still pregnant with Barry," Carlos continues.
"How does she know the councilman?" Castle asks, interrupting. Carlos cannot blame or fault the man. That Castle, an author, would jump past the story and the preamble to get to the chase is not lost on the mobster.
"She is his sister-in-law," Carlos tells them silently.
He allows the room to digest his words for a few seconds.
"You have got to be shitting me," Richard Castle remarks, disgust plainly evident in his voice.
"Unfortunately, I am not, Richard," Carlos tells his friend. "I, too, find this information distasteful. I thought we had rid ourselves of the Bracken problem. I am disappointed to be proven wrong."
"Rid yourselves," Kate catches on. "What do you mean?"
"Did you have something to do with Bracken's death?" Castle asks, eyes widening. He catches the chuckle from Willie Crockett, as another piece falls into place.
"You could say that," Carlos smiles, and it is as sinister a smile as any in the room – save Willie Crockett – have ever witnessed.
"But we know who killed the Senator," Kate interrupts. "We know who did it, Rick," she continues, now directing her comments to Richard Castle.
"I know babe," he replies. "My father. He came to my house, Sam," Castle tells his Bay Area friend and somewhat protector.
"He told us what happened, and that we no longer had anything to worry about," Castle continues, the confusion evident on his face.
"And who do you think turned your father on to Senator Bracken, Richard?" Carlos asks.
The room falls deadly quiet, save a second chuckle from Willie Crockett.
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A/N: I thank everyone who is continuing this story with me, after the long hiatus. As you can see, I am trying to post fairly regularly here, with a story that could upend the status quo for our west coast friends. Stay safe, everyone.