Just Another Day: Chapter 2
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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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11:35 a.m. West Coast Time on Monday, May 14, 2012, in the Cafeteria at the Castles Complex in Sausalito, California
The hustle and bustle of the cafeteria this morning is loud and boisterous, as lunch is in full swing at the moment. Richard Castle, Mike Monroe and Sam Carlos have just arrived moments earlier, as the workers are taking a break from their foundation work and are taking advantage of the free lunch being provided by the staff back at the work site. The arriving boxes of pizza had brought about a loud roar from the work crew, indicating their gratefulness.
The three men have found a table off to themselves and are waiting for the long line of women and children to dwindle down so that they may have their turn. Richard Castle smiles as a few women continue to enter the cafeteria, still amazed that this is the one place all of them – for lack of a better term – let their hair down. They could eat in their own homes, of course, but choose the camaraderie that is found here in a simple meal with others.
And, as they all have noted previously, the children thrive here. The children have made friends here. Today it is particularly crowded for lunch, as many of the schools in the city have deemed this a teacher in-conference day; a work day for teachers, but a holiday for the students.
"There they are," Mike Monroe remarks, as all three men now gaze at the door where Kate Beckett and Willie Crockett are walking in. The incoming duo immediately make a beeline to the table where the other three men sit, and take their seats.
"Waiting for the lunch rush to die down," Kate remarks in understanding.
"Hey Willie," Monroe greets the slightly larger man with an outstretched hand, which is firmly and enthusiastically taken and shaken.
"Mike," Willie replies. "Where is Lindy?" the large black man notes, now glancing around.
"Her turn at patrol," Monroe tells him.
"I have meant to ask you about that," Castle interrupts. "Until – oh, maybe a week or two ago – you always scheduled Lindy with yourself on patrols. Has something . . . well, how do I ask this . . . are you and –"
"We are just fine, Rick," Monroe replies with a smile. "After Elena Markov left, Lindy suggested that we split duties, allowing us to have separate patrols."
"For what purpose?" Sam Carlos asks, his interest genuine. "You said after the Markov woman departed. Do you suspect that Markov had something to do with this change?"
"Let's just say that Elena Markov pointed something out to Lindy during her departure that we both have taken to heart," Monroe replies.
"Do tell," Sam remarks, with an interested glance from Willie Crockett.
"She pointed out that Lindy slightly loses her edge when I am around," Monroe answers. "Something I guess she noticed in her very short time here. Lindy and I agreed that we should occasionally patrol separately – just to keep our edge proper."
"She noticed all of that in just one meeting?" Kate asks, the surprise evident in her voice.
"Miss Markov is a formidable woman," Sam Carlos remarks, drawing all eyes toward him.
"You sound as if you know something we don't," Kate states. It isn't a question.
"Well, it turns out now that Willie and I may know Miss Markov a little more . . . deeply than those of you here," Carlos replies with a chuckle. His smile is shared by a smirk from Crockett.
"And you would know this how?" Monroe asks.
Carlos continues to smile, glancing at Willie Crockett, and nods his head.
"Because Elena Markov came and visited Sam just days after she left here," Crockett tells the stunned table.
"What?" Kate replies, astonished.
Richard Castle takes a few extra seconds to process what they have just heard, before asking the better question.
"How in the world did she even know where you live, Sam?"
Both Carlos and Crockett are chuckling louder now, as Sam answers the question now on everyone's minds.
"That is the question of the year, my friend . . . that is the question of the year."
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FLASHBACK: Just over two weeks ago, at 7:22 p.m. West Coast Time on April 29, 2012, at Sam Carlos' residence at the old Presidio Base in San Francisco, California
Sam Carlos sits on the sofa just beyond the massive bay window that looks out over the wooded yard that surrounds his Presidio home. The sun has set, the night is settling in, and Carlos is enjoying the view that – for him – always brings a sense of peace.
Standing at the bay window, some ten feet away, is Willie Crockett. The large man is flanked by Junior Boy, Carlos' second-in-command from his security force. Both men are staring outside, and it is clear to Carlos that something has their attention.
Correction: Someone has their attention.
"Trouble?" Carlos asks.
"You could say that," Crockett responds, as he watches a lone figure walking toward the residence. The visitor is close enough now that the two men can make out that it is a woman walking toward them. Seconds later, two men appear by her side, intercepting the woman.
Crockett and Junior Boy watch as the woman raises her hands – as if in surrender – allowing herself to be patted down. They watch a discussion take place, no doubt the security telling this visitor to scram, if she knows what is good for her.
A few seconds later, Sam Carlos' first and second-in-command both leave the bay window; Junior Boy walking toward the front door, while Crockett takes his place standing protectively between Carlos and said front door.
"Stay behind me, sir," Crockett warns, clenching his fists, and reaching inside his jacket for the weapon that is holstered along his shoulder.
After a respectful warning knock, the door opens and two of Carlos' lieutenants walk in, with Elena Markov entering behind them.
"You have a visitor, sir," Gary Winters tells his boss. "Says her name is –"
"Miss Markov," Sam Carlos interrupts, now standing. "We know each other, Mr. Winters. You and your brother may leave us now."
Neither of the Winters brothers know this woman from the man in the moon, yet both are smart enough to know when they are being dismissed by the most powerful man in the Bay Area. They take their cue and leave gratefully.
"So . . . this is Elena Markov," Willie Crockett states aloud, allowing Sam Carlos to come alongside him, and watching as Carlos deliberately walks past him, hand outstretched toward the Ukrainian.
"Hello Miss Markov," Carlos greets her as she takes his hand. "To what do we owe this pleasure . . . and is it a pleasure or something else?"
"Certainly not something else, Mr. Carlos," she greets him with a smile. She turns her attention to Crockett.
"The infamous Willie Crockett," she states, still smiling. She nods her head at the enforcer, not offering her hand. "Your feats and reputation proceed you most impressively, Mr. Crockett."
"I am wondering how you got onto the grounds so easily," Crockett remarks, ignoring the greeting.
"And I am wondering why Gary and Glen just waltzed her in here like a long-lost friend," Junior Boy adds.
"They made a wise decision not trying to stop me," Elena replies, still smiling. All three men, highly experienced in violent confrontations, immediately recognize that this is not intended to be one of those types of visits. Still, while Carlos breathes a step easier, his enforcers do not.
"I come in peace," she continues, raising her arms for a few seconds in mock surrender. As she lowers her arms, her smile disappears. Immediately Sam Carlos respects the visitor for the direct approach she is taking.
"But why do you come in the first place?" Sam asks, now walking toward the bar. He grabs four glasses, two in each hand. Willie Crockett immediately walks toward Carlos at the bar, while Junior Boy now takes a position between Markov and the other two men.
"Impressive," Markov silently notes to herself. "They move in a coordinated fashion without so much as a glance at each other."
Crockett takes two of the glasses from Carlos, while Sam reaches for a bottle, before turning back to Markov.
"Scotch? Vodka? Bourbon?" he asks.
"Vodka is fine, thank you," she replies.
Carlos nods his head, smiling that his initial selection was going to be correct. He pours four glasses, allowing Willie to take two of the glasses, one of which he shares with Junior Boy.
Carlos takes the remaining two glasses to the sofa, handing one to Markov. The foursome clink glasses together.
"Have a seat, Miss Markov," he tells the woman as he – himself – sits down. Elena complies, and then takes a sip from the tumbler that has just been provided to her.
"Mmmm," she murmurs admiringly. "Khortystsa. An excellent choice, Mr. Carlos."
"I am glad you like it," Carlos replies. "So . . . what can I do for you, as I assume this was not a visit to sample my vodka and bourbon collection," he smiles.
"Indeed not," Elena smiles, and none of the men miss the unintended menace in her smile. She means no harm this evening, but she is who she is.
An assassin.
"Let me tell you a story, Mr. Carlos," Elena begins, but is quickly interrupted.
"One day," Carlos chuckles. "Only one day on Mr. Castle's complex and suddenly we have another storyteller on our hands."
Crockett silently laughs with Carlos, while Junior Boy, who is only now getting his first interaction in any form with Markov, remains on high alert.
For her part, Elena Markov laughs with the two men, immediately recognizing the truce being offered.
"As I was leaving Mr. Castle's complex, as you call it," she begins, "I had an interesting conversation with a most interesting, and formidable fellow warrior."
"Miss Matthews, I assume?" Carlos questions.
"Yes, Miss Matthews. Lindy," Markov continues. "Lindy and I reached an accord instead of a fight. And during our discussion, she confirmed something that I had just learned during my stay at the campus across the beautiful bridge you have here."
The East European assassin takes another sip of vodka, smiling as she relishes the smooth beverage.
"Again, just excellent," she offers, raising her glass in a salute before continuing.
"She confirmed a very specific number for me," Markov continues. "Forty-nine."
"Ah, so Miss Matthews was – indeed – forthcoming with you," Carlos agrees. "However, that information is very public. In fact, I highly doubt that a woman – a warrior – of your caliber – entered that campus without that information in the first place."
"Astute, Mr. Carlos," Elena replies. "And you are correct. I had a number when I entered their grounds over there . . . but I did not have a name. That name is what was confirmed for me while there."
"Ah . . . Mr. Adams, I presume," Carlos acknowledges.
"Yes. Mr. Barry Adams. The man responsible for assault on Mr. Castle's complex. The man responsible for the kidnappings and brutality served upon forty-nine women."
"And we are having this conversation for what purpose?" Crockett asks, inserting himself into the discussion, moving his chair slightly closer to Markov. She does not miss the positioning move, and recognizes that Crockett has not tried to hide the maneuver.
"Because I would like to understand exactly what Mr. Castle did to get under the skin of such a man, causing such a man to attack Mr. Castle in the many ways he has. An assault. A drugging. I would not be surprised if he were behind the kidnapping of Mr. Castle's young daughter," Elena continues.
"And I would like to understand exactly why such a man – who does such things to a friend of yours, Mr. Carlos – is still alive, given who you are and what you are capable of, but seemingly unwilling to do."
Sam Carlos stands upright, taking a long swallow of his own drink, and walks toward the large bay window in the living room. He glances outside for a few seconds before responding.
"Those are a number of topics that you bring up, that should be addressed one by one," Carlos tells her. "And because you are who you are . . . I must also wonder why you chose to align yourself with such a man in the first place. You do not strike me, Miss Markov, as one who makes such a horrible judgement in whom she aligns herself with."
"Tit for tat," she smiles, standing herself and walking toward the bay window. Both of Carlos' men fall in alongside her.
"Not the term I would use, but appropriate," Carlos agrees. "To answer your question, Mr. Castle was getting too close to the truth for Barry Adams' comfort. So, Adams took action."
"Ill-advised action," Crockett adds menacingly, giving the warrior a glimpse of the ferocity simmering under control beneath the surface of the man.
"Mr. Castle discovered that Adam's team was using buses and the wharf to conduct their nefarious deeds in taking my women," he tells her, and – not knowing the personal investment that Carlos has in the city – even Markov is surprised by his implied ownership of the men and women of 'his' city. She remembers something similar he said to her upon meeting her in the cafeteria back on their campus, filing this away for further discussion.
"Once Mr. Castle and his team identified the particular bus that was being used," Carlos continues, "somehow that had to get back to Adams, because within a day and a half, Mr. Castle was t-boned in a car accident and his campus assaulted."
"Not the brightest move," Crockett chuckles, and Elena finds herself chuckling with the large man.
"No, not bright at all, given what I witnessed out there," Markov agrees.
"One man survived," Carlos continues. "One man."
"And why would you allow this one man to continue living, given what he tried to do to your supposed friend."
"Oh, make no mistake, Miss Markov," Carlos replies, turning to face her. Once again, for the second time in two-plus weeks, she is face to face with the Carlos gaze, a sinister look to which even she silently shudders. "Richard and I are, indeed, friends. Good friends. I hope you never question that."
"That would be a mistake, Miss Markov," Crockett remarks.
"A bad mistake," Carlos adds. "And you coming in peace aside, please understand you are on very, very shaky ground here this evening."
"Understood," the woman replies, not a hint of surprise or fear. All three men unknowingly nod internally at the woman's stance.
"Back to your question, however," Carlos pivots. "You asked how I could allow such a man to survive. Let me say that living is not always the best outcome for a snared wolf. You know the behavior of a snared wolf, I am sure. A snared wolf will chew off his foot to escape the snare. Let me assure you – no amount of chewing will help Benny."
Suddenly, Carlos turns to Junior Boy.
"In recounting our tale to Miss Markov, it strikes me that there is a loose end dangling that I have somehow missed. Once Richard's team found the identity of the bus, and bus driver – somehow that knowledge made it back to Adams. Which means Adams had someone on the inside at MUNI. Find him. Or her. Bring them here, please, Junior Boy. As soon as possible."
Immediately, the large Filipino takes his leave of the remaining threesome, heading out the door, his phone already in his large hand.
"My apologies, Miss Markov," Carlos returns his focus to their guest, knowing the impact of the last fifteen or so seconds will not be lost on her. "Back to your question –"
He stops, smiling as he changes tactics.
"Quid pro quo, Miss Markov," he continues. "You were acting on behalf of Mr. Adams. Something that does not fit with you. I can sense this, and your departure from my friend's complex confirms this. So my question . . . why were you acting on his behalf? What does he hold over you?"
In reality, both Carlos and Crockett know of the connection between Adams and the late Senator Bracken from the east coast. They know of her connection to the two men. Carlos, however, wants to know if this woman will be truthful, or operate with stealth.
He wants to know if she will lie to him.
"It is inaccurate to say that I am aligned with Mr. Adams," she begins. "I have been aligned with a member of his family, who is no longer alive. This family member died with me owing him a favor. A favor is an important thing, is it not?"
"Indeed," Carlos replies.
"And the death of a family member does not release me from such a favor," she continues, respectfully noting the head nod as a response from both Carlos and Crockett.
"And so, I owe a debt to the remaining family, which was called in," she concludes.
"Thank you, Miss Markov," Carlos replies, content with the truth he has just heard.
"So, we return to my question, Mr. Carlos," Elena states affably. "The very sanity of forty-nine women . . . forty-nine of your women, yes? Their very sanity cries out for justice, wondering why the mastermind of their suffering continues to live. Wondering why he continues to live with your apparent blessing."
"And you ask this question for what purpose?" Carlos asks.
"Because it is my intention to relieve this city of this man's life," she replies without emotion. "Yet I was . . . warned, for lack of a better term, that such an action could put me at odds with you. I want to know why."
Carlos gazes at the woman for a few seconds, then glances back out the window, taking another sip from the glass.
"My friend across the bridge asked me a similar question, Miss Markov. I will tell you what I told Richard. I hesitate to take out an elected figure in this city . . . in this country . . . in any country."
"And I do not," Markov replies in kind.
"I sense that you do not," Carlos agrees. "But the key word is 'hesitate'. That does not mean such an action is completely off the table. It is just not . . . preferred."
"Do not be fooled, Miss Markov," Crockett adds as Carlos chuckles. "It would not be the first time that such a thing transitioned from 'hesitate' to 'go ahead and take him – or her – out'."
"No, it would not," Carlos laughs aloud. "But you wonder if such an act on your part would cause a . . . disagreement . . . between us?"
"Disagreements do not bother me, Mr. Carlos," Elena smiles. "It is wars that I worry about."
Carlos nods in agreement, offering his glass as a second salute. Markov clinks glasses with him, as Carlos continues.
"Here is my ask of you, Miss Markov," Carlos offers, negotiating. "Give me three more weeks with Mr. Adams. Three more weeks. Then he is all yours. I would assume this is agreeable."
"Quite," Markov answers, now looking for a coaster upon which to lay down her glass. She is standing in opulent surroundings, and knows that simply putting her glass on the nearest table would be insulting.
"Then our business tonight is concluded," Carlos states, straightening out his jacket.
"And – not to insult your integrity – but what assurances do I have that we do, in fact, have an agreement?" she asks.
Carlos glances at her for a second, then turns his gaze toward Willie Crockett, simply giving the large man a raised eyebrow. Immediately Willie reaches inside his jacket for his weapon. Markov, trained and experienced, still is surprised at the move, wondering if she has tragically overplayed her hand.
Without hesitation, Crockett hands his weapon to Markov.
Markov takes the weapon, and by its weight, immediately recognizes a loaded weapon. She smiles, admiring the almost arrogance of the two men in front of her . . . but also recognizing the integrity being offered.
She returns the weapon to Crockett.
"Thank you Mr. Carlos . . . Mr. Crockett," she remarks, concluding their business. "I will show myself out. I know the way."
She stops for a second or two at the door, hesitating . . . before finally making her decision. She turns to face both men one final time.
"Birds, Mr. Carlos," she tells him smiling. "At the complex, you stepped out to make a phone call in the small courtyard just outside their main building. I had you in my sights. I was ready to pull the trigger. I have to assume a predatory bird landed in the tree branches because suddenly, a mass of birds exploded from the branches, startling me."
It is because of their years of experience that neither Sam Carlos or Willie Crockett react externally. Internally, both men push down the shock that is bubbling within their stomachs.
"You were saved by birds, Mr. Carlos," Elena continues. "The universe decided you were worth saving. The universe does not make mistakes. So, I must wonder – why exactly did the universe save a man such as you . . . just as I wonder why the universe allowed a woman such as me to leave that campus alive – with the human firepower residing there."
"Why are we – you and I – still alive, Mr. Carlos?" she asks, as she departs the room. "What does the universe want from us?"
She smiles, knowing the bomb she has just dropped in the room. She wants them to know that she is not a woman to be trifled with.
Both men allow the assassin to walk out through the doors, and watch through the large bay window as she walks out onto the lawn, departing the same way she came. As they watch, Crockett takes out his phone, and punches an icon.
His phone rings once before his call is answered.
"Yes sir," Gary Winters answers.
"Gary, grab Glen and come here right away, please," Crockett tells the man. "I need you both to sweep this room for bugs. This room, and then retrace your steps with the woman you brought here. Be thorough, Gary."
He hangs up without waiting for a response.
"A good idea, my friend," Carlos remarks, as the two men clink glasses one final time. "Thank you very much, Willie."