Finding the Fit Chapter 64

Over 36 hours, Maddox has observed the routine of prisoner transfer from the 12th Precinct. Except for changing shifts of uniformed officers, every transfer has proceeded in much the same way. The prisoners, always cuffed and sometimes shackled, are led through a back door of the precinct where a van with the engine running waits. While two officers stand guard, the prisoner, along with one or two other officers, gets into the van, which takes off immediately. Maddox has no doubt that Hal will be led out the same way. He only has to wait. He's found himself a suitable nest in the framework supporting an electronic billboard. The billboard displays messages from two screens, with adequate room in the middle for Maddox to set up his rifle. He would like to be facing the prisoners, but they come out facing a direction with nothing but open ground. Still, he can recognize Hal well enough by height, weight, and hair color. Beckett and Castle might even choose to see him off, verifying him as a target.

Hunt observes as Maddox settles into his nest. He respects the choice. For a similar mission, he might even have chosen it himself. It also gives him the criteria for setting up his own nest. He can be farther from the precinct, needing only to be close enough to guarantee taking his target out of the game. Hunt chooses the roof of a nearby office building. The property owner apparently earns extra income by festooning the roof with signs hawking various products, including Hunt's favorite ice cream. He makes a mental note to go for a cone later. The signs provide excellent cover, yet give him a clear line of sight to take out his quarry.

As dusk begins to descend on the city, a shackled tall man with reddish brown hair is urged out the back door of the 12th Precinct toward a waiting transport van. That his assumed target is wearing a bulletproof vest doesn't disturb Maddox. He won't be aiming for the center of mass. He can only see his target from the side, making a positive identification of his face impossible. However, Kate Beckett and Richard Castle, also in bulletproof vests, are partially discernable in the doorway, apparently to make sure that Hal makes it into the van. Maddox gets ready to take his shot. The beta blocker that both he and Hal favor when making a long-range shot has slowed his heart rate enough that he can shoot between beats. He begins to squeeze the trigger, but his own head explodes before he can make the shot.

Maddox's target is hurried back inside the building while Esposito points out Maddox's nest, sending a squad of officers up to it on the run.

The tall target is rushed back inside the precinct. "You OK?" Kate asks the cop doubling for Lockwood.

"Fine," Officer Merriman responds. "I don't think a bullet came near me. I didn't feel anything."

"The shot sounded like it came from very far away," Rick notes. "If that was Cyril Marks, or whatever he calls himself now, perhaps his sniper skills have seen better days."

Esposito's voice comes through Kate's radio. "Beckett, we found the shooter, but you're not going to get much out of him. He's dead. Someone blew the back of his head off."

"Any sign of the second shooter, Espo?"

"Nada. It was a long-range shot that could have come from several buildings. We can check the area, but he's probably long gone."

Kate shakes her head in confusion. "Bracken sends a guy to take out Lockwood and kills him? That makes no sense."

Rick draws in a thoughtful breath. "Maybe it does. When the mass shooter who got Velda Brown and her ladies was taken out, we thought it might have been Bracken cleaning up loose ends. But what if it wasn't Bracken? Maybe it was someone who wants his organization quashed."

"You mean a rival drug dealer?" Kate asks.

"No, I mean that SDNY isn't the only arm of the Feds that realized what a threat Bracken is to national security. We could be dealing with an intelligence agent, maybe even a wet boy."

"Castle, are you telling me that some John Malkovich character took out the shooter and a Russian mass murderer?"

"Maybe a little saner than a John Malkovich character, but yeah, possibly someone like that."

Kate lays a hand on Rick's arm. "Castle, that would be a stretch even for a Derrick Storm novel."

Rick shrugs. "Maybe, but real life doesn't have to depend on the willing suspension of disbelief. It can be stranger than fiction."

"Well a dead body is not fiction, but it is going to be fun seeing Lockwood's face when I tell him someone tried to take out the cop doubling for him at our staged transfer. He may suddenly find it in his best interests to start talking."

"What about the fact that it wasn't anyone from the NYPD who took out the shooter?" Rick queries.

Kate smiles, batting her lashes. "That, we don't have to tell him."

Elizabeth Weston gazes across her desk at Kate and Rick. "So you're telling me that the operative referred to in Bracken's journals as Hal, is willing to testify to the accuracy of what is portrayed in those journals?"

"The portions of what's in them he was involved with, yes," Kate confirms.

Weston nods slowly, her dark eyes bright in the smooth mocha latte skin of her face. "That gets us around Bracken's rights against self-incrimination. We can put Hal on the stand to introduce the journals. I'm going to have to coordinate with Waterhouse about his case in New York, but I believe we're ready to take the next step with the federal case against the senator."

Air suddenly flows from between Kate's lips. "Thank God!"

"I've got the popcorn all ready," Rick announces, "with plenty of butter and salt. No Wong here to worry about the equipment. But I do have plenty of napkins." He sets the bowl and napkins down next to two root beer floats on a low table in front of the couch and glances up at the large TV screen. "Looks like they're ready to start." He takes a seat next to Kate as the anchor turns to the camera.

"This is Ari Melman. I'm here with Katie Lang, Martha McVey, Andrew Watson, and Neal Priyal to bring you in-depth coverage of the cases, federal and from the City of New York, against Senator William H. Bracken for his alleged conspiracy in multiple murders, drug trafficking and violation of anti-espionage statutes. The charges stemming from alleged murders in New York have just been released by District Attorney Waterhouse's office. So, Katie Lang, that's your beat. Let's start with you."

"Well, Ari, as you might imagine, reporters from all across the country were outside the DA's office waiting for the charges to be announced. They allege that William H. Bracken solicited Richard 'Dick' Coonan to murder four people: Johanna Beckett, Diane Cavenaugh, Jennifer Stewart, and Scott Murray. Johanna Beckett was a civil rights attorney who was looking into the case of Joe Pulgatti, who claimed that Bracken coerced him into pleading guilty to FBI Agent Bob Armen's murder. According to Pulgatti, the murder was actually committed by dirty cops, working an extortion racket at the direction of Bracken. Johanna Beckett engaged the others in her investigation, and as a result, Bracken allegedly had Coonan kill all of them."

"That's quite a story, Katie," Ari remarks. "I understand that Johanna Beckett was the mother of Detective Kate Beckett, well known for having the highest rate of homicide case closure in the city."

"That's true, Ari. Apparently, the quest for justice runs in the family."

Rick can feel the heat radiating from Kate's reddening face. "Hey, what she said about you and your mom is true. The whole TV audience should know about it."

Kate gazes at the panel of talking heads. "This is going to be a circus, isn't it Castle?"

"We both knew that, Beckett. That's why I made popcorn. Murder, mayhem, and a powerful political figure are more than enough to fill three rings complete with clown cars."

"How long do you think it's going to go on?" Kate wonders.

"I don't know. Bracken is going to fight this with everything he's got. It could be months or even years if there are appeals."

"I don't know if I can make it through all of that."

"You will. You're Kate Beckett. You can fight your way through anything. And I'll be happy to hold your jacket."

"Castle, I need you to do a lot more than hold my jacket."

Rick pulls her in for a kiss.

"I hope so."