Chapter 7

The observation room had large panes of one-way glass that allowed viewers to see and hear interrogations going on in either of the adjacent rooms that the detectives referred to individually as "the box". One of the things that Kate basically gave up when becoming captain had been being able to stare suspects and witnesses down during one on one confrontations. During her time with Castle, she'd become even more effective, with him providing another set of eyes on a problem and being able to work through different pieces of information from another perspective. Castle and Beckett entered the observation room and Beckett adjusted the volume control so that she and Castle could hear Esposito talking with the owner of Rydes.

Amos Kon didn't look a day over twelve years old. He was tall, but rail-thin with a pale complexion and sunken, dark circles beneath his black-brown eyes. He didn't seem able to hold eye contact with Esposito, his gaze alternating to points around the room and down to his hands, which he'd placed flat, palm down on the table in front of him. Esposito was sitting back in the chair on the other side of the table from Kon and was paging through papers tucked into a plain manila folder that he held on his lap.

"So, Mr. Kon, what can you tell me about what Mr. Farber was doing late last night?" Esposito looked up from the file and caught Kon's gaze with the question.

"Nothing. I was asleep. I don't know what he was doing." Kon voice was surprisingly deep and there was the hint of something in his voice that caused Beckett's eyebrows to furrow in concentration. Seeing this, Castle leaned towards her. There was no way for the people in the other room to hear them, but it was a habit of Castle's that she found endearing.

"What is it?" He asked her, not really taking his eyes off the proceedings next door.

"I'm not sure. There's something." Castle knew that the wheels were turning in her head. He nodded and continued to watch Esposito and Kon, this time trying to use his own skills of observation to get a feel for what Kate had seen.

In the box, Esposito sighed. "You know, Mr. Kon, I didn't ask you where you were. I asked you about what Mr. Farber was doing."

"How should I know?" There was the hint of a pout on Kon's face.

"He worked for you, Mr. Kon. He was on a job for your company. It says here, the fare was centrally requested and dispatched from your company's server. It sounds to me that you should have a little bit of a clue."

"Look, officer." There was a hint of pleading combined with an attempt to be reasonable in Kon's voice.

"Sergeant." Esposito reasserted control by correcting Kon.

Kon nodded. "Sergeant. We're a 24/7 operation and entirely automated. There isn't a dispatcher. If you have a registered account, you can make a request and it gets processed by the server. The server finds the closest ride near you and sends an alert."

Kon took a deep breath and continued. "With the growth we've had, it's all I can do to keep up with all the background checks I got to do for new drivers and take care of the finances."

"I see." Esposito made a show of looking back down to his file. "What kind of employee was Mr. Farber? Any complaints? Anything show up on his background check that might indicated someone who had a beef with him?"

"Look, we don't grade our drivers. The riders do. If you get anything less than three out of five stars in your rating for more than five rides, your priority gets downgraded. You don't get any fares. If you don't get any fares, you don't get paid." Kon smiled proudly. "Capitalism, man."

"So what kind of ratings did Farber get?"

"He did ok. He got a lot of repeat business, which is good." Kon looked like he was remembering something. "Although…"

"What." Esposito clasped his hands in front of him, waiting.

"Look, most of the cab services have a monopoly on the hotel business. We're not allowed to sit in the cab stands in front of hotels and wait for fares. Besides, that's not our business model. You order, we come, you understand?"

Esposito nodded. Kon continued. "But Haden got lots of regular business, from people here on business travel, who wanted him to take them to hotels, a lot. He came up with kind of a retainer thing, where a customer could reserve him indefinitely."

He paused, took a gulp of air then continued. "Anyway, that meant Haden would be waiting outside some of the hotels for his reserved fare. Well, the cabbies didn't like that. In fact, one got so irritated, that he came up and attacked Haden outside the Marriott yesterday."

"We heard about that. We're checking that out. You're thinking that this cabbie might have had something to do with this? Seems kind of a stretch over a fare."

Kon became vociferous. "It's not just one fare. It's a lot of fares. We already have a bunch of the gypsy cabs coming over to us." Esposito nodded. The gypsy cabs were basically illegal. They were independent cab drivers without a city-approved medallion to operate like the larger cab companies had. It made sense that they'd gravitate towards ride sharing, if only to be legitimate.

Esposito took one more glance down at his paper. "I get it. We're talking a lot of money, but there's not a lot of cash. It's not like Farber could be robbed. You got paid and you paid your drivers in botcoins, why's that?"

"New economy, dude. Plus the exchange rates are in our favor. We upped our profit by almost 20% by going with botcoins." Kon was genuinely proud of his achievement. "Plus we have the secure electronic wallets for the drivers. After all, he that has no money, needs no purse."

Beckett tapped Castle on the shoulder. "Let's go." Like a force of nature, she pulled open the door to the corridor and knocked on the interrogation room door. After a second, she walked in and gave Espo a quick look, then stood over the table and calmly glared at Kon.

"Altýnnogo vóra véšajut, a poltínnogo čéstvujut." Her accent was flawless and despite Castle's belief that it couldn't happen, Kon turned even paler. Beckett had a smile on her face and she stared him down.

"It's an old Russian proverb. Little thieves are hanged, but great ones escape." Her tone was reasonable, but Castle recognized the menace in her voice. She had something, and in his mind, he was rubbing his hands together. He loved it when she closed in on an unsuspecting prey in this room. It was like a shark circling a bleeding victim.

Beckett continued, her tone unchanged. "You knew that, though, didn't you? What was your name before you changed it? Konevski? Konvelev?"

Kon slumped down in his chair. "Koniev."

Castle's head perked up at the revelation. "Russian? What gave it away?"

Beckett looked over at her husband. "I thought I heard some weird consonants in his speech, but then he mentioned the money and purse proverb, that nailed it for me."

Castle nodded then remembered the paper in his hand. "I know that you think you have a great business model, but honestly this is way more money than there should be. I mean, it shows almost a billion dollars in revenue." He pushed the paper over to Amos. Beckett took over.

"Not only that, it shows a huge selloff of botcoins yesterday. Enough to send the price tumbling." Beckett pointed to one of the graphs on the paper. "That had to be intentional. Were you trying to affect the market?"

"No, I didn't do that! I'd lose money if I did that." Kon protested, his eyes looking down at the paper.

"True, if making money was your goal." Castle's eyes had a faraway look , then he refocused. "But if you were working for someone, let's say the Russian mob, and you wanted to stick it to your Serbian rivals, that would be the way to do it."

"I am not a mobster!" He pointed down at the paper. "I didn't do that!"

Beckett bore in. "That's your account. That's your company's wallet!"

"I don't know how that happened." He glanced at the paper. "Wait a minute. That's my company's wallet, but it's an individual account, for one of the drivers."

"Which one?" Castle had a feeling he knew who's account had been used.

"That's Haden's account, but this doesn't make any sense." Amos looked up them and shrugged his shoulders. "Haden never had that much money in his account and there shouldn't have been any way for him to access the company's central fund." A look of panic hit his face, his brow began to moisten and his eyes widened. "Oh my God. Someone hacked us and cleaned us out." He pulled out a mobile phone and tapped on its face. "Whoever dumped the botcoins from our account into the market didn't have the payout come back to us. We didn't get the money."

Castle stood straight for a moment and glanced over at Beckett. Her brow was furrowed in concentration. Unconsciously, she was biting her lower lip, a habit that Castle found remarkably sexy. For a moment, he was lost in thought, remembering all the times she would do that, and how much he loved her, then he snapped into his head. He motioned to Beckett and Esposito to follow him out the door.

They paused in the hallway to talk. Esposito nodded towards the interrogation room door.

"I don't think he did it."

Beckett nodded in agreement. "I don't think he did it, either. He's scared out of his mind."

"Not to mention that he's in the crosshairs of some very irritated Serbian gangsters." Castle added in. "The thing is, Haden couldn't have done this. Look at where he lived. He and his girlfriend were barely making it. Plus, the story wouldn't make sense."

"What do you mean?" Beckett had missed this type of interplay. This was Castle at his best, which made her work at her best. Theorizing together showed how much in synch they were.

"Beckett, we're talking about a lot of money, with consequences that are crushing for the Serbians, right?" She nodded. Encouraged, he continued. "The only people that would benefit from this, and I'm not talking about the money made, are the Russians."

Esposito chimed in. "Yeah, but we already know that Kon isn't working for the Russians."

"Granted, but the story still makes sense. The only people with something to gain are the Russians, and we know Russian gangsters aren't stupid. They couldn't do this directly. It would need to be subtle, more nuanced." Beckett nodded. Castle thought processes were firing as he worked through the story.

"So the Russians see the Serbs as a threat. They could go to war, but that's too open, too bloody, especially considering how intense law enforcement is here in Manhattan. So, they'd need to figure out a way to do this that would hurt the Serbs without anything pointing in their direction."

Ryan walked up to join them, coming in on the tail end of Castle's story. He had a curious expression on his face. "Why would they go after Rydes? Why not something completely off the radar? The Russians have tons of shell corporations they could have used."

Beckett looked at Ryan. "Because Rydes does most of their business online and with botcoins. The Serbs were laundering money using botcoins. Rydes had the volume and the online access that could hurt the Serbs."

"Not to mention, the drivers are contractors with access to the centralized electronic wallet." Castle paused then continued. "Haden Farber was an advanced computer user. His set up at home was a premium rig."

Ryan shook his head. "Yeah, but was just for games."

"PC gamers are notorious for their ability to dive into code in order find back doors, cheat codes and the like." Castle took a breath. "What if Haden discovered that his key had been compromised?"

"He'd have to try find out who did it." Beckett took up the thread and followed it up. "He'd try to figure out how it was done, when it was done, and by whom."

This time Ryan agreed and nodded. "He probably left a trail. Whoever he was looking for was also an advanced user, so they had to know that they'd been compromised. They'd have to get rid of Haden to keep the Russians' involvement secret."

Castle and Beckett shared a long stare, each processing the information in different ways, but both coming up with same conclusion. Like one person, they both spoke up. "I know who the killer is!"

They shared a smile. Behind them, Ryan and Esposito gave each other a fist bump, not because they were close to solving the case, but for the first time in a long time, Castle and Beckett were their normal, quirky crime fighting selves.

Castle looked at Beckett. "I have to check something out first." He glanced Ryan's way. "I need your help, Kevin."

Beckett nodded in agreement. "I need to look into something as well. Meet back here in two hours?"

"Ok, sounds like a plan." On an impulse, Castle leaned over and kissed his wife. It was a soft, lingering touch on the lips that caught her by surprise. When he leaned back, he smiled and made her flush.

"Um, what about him?" Esposito broke into their reverie, pointing at the despondent figure of Amos Kon in the other room.

Beckett thought for a moment. "We'd better take him into protective custody until we figure this out. There's no telling who might be out to put a bullet in him."

As they turned to get their respective tasks done, Beckett whispered to Castle. "Thanks for that."

"The help on the case or the kiss." He smirked as her face turned another shade of red.

"Both. I've missed both." She reached over and touched his hand. "I'm glad you're here."

"Always." With a nod, they moved off to find their killer.

(Interlude)

The United States Penitentiary, Administrative Maximum Facility (ADX), also known as "Supermax" houses the male inmates in the federal prison system who are deemed the most dangerous and in need of the tightest control. The worst of the worst are housed within the confines of the remote Colorado facility, including gang leaders who continued to exercise control of their organizations while in other prisons, terrorists, and traitors. Inmates spend 23 hours a day confined to a 7 foot by 12-foot cell and are escorted by no less than three officers to their one hour a day exercise sessions that are held in a concrete pit that resembles an empty swimming pool with no windows or view of the outdoors. It's a hard existence for hardened men. Stepping into the pit for his daily walk, Mason Wood reflected on how he'd gotten here. His plan had been foolproof. Flynn had been utterly reliable right up until he'd let the police and Castle get away. He was a survivor. Upon reflection, Beckett would have been better served shooting him outright, but arresting him would eventually prove to be a massive mistake on her part.

He was only slightly disappointed that Caleb Brown hadn't succeeded in taking Beckett and Castle out. It had been a good plan, but for some reason, he'd failed and was now rotting in some unmarked grave in New York. Nonetheless, he was pleased that Caleb had failed. Castle and Beckett would be his to deal with. The Supermax was an extraordinary prison, but Wood had survived far worse. He'd figure out a way out. The remnants of his team were smart and dedicated. It was only a matter of time.

He snorted to himself and started walking. The pit was underground. Like the narrow windows in his cell, the facility was designed so that the inmates couldn't get a good look at the surrounding area to figure out exactly where they were and plan escapes. As such, the room the pit was in was usually brilliantly lit with high intensity fluorescent bulbs that covered the entire area. This time, it seemed, one of the light fixtures was out, casting the far end of the pool enclosure in darkness. Mason shook his head. Government workers could be so predictably inept. He revised his estimate on how soon he could break out. He continued walking down the length of the pit. As he approached the darkened section, he stopped. The figure of a man standing in the darkness began to coalesce. As the man entered the full brightness of the light, Wood sighed and shook his head.

"I was wondering when you'd show up." Wood eyed the new arrival with a studied professionalism, any thought of a life beyond the next few minutes evaporating from his head. The man nodded and stood with a casual ease that belied the coiled tension of a professional warrior.

"I know you, Mason. You've been planning how to get out this place from the moment you got here." The man chuckled. "Hell, if I remember correctly, you designed most of the security measures they use, so you know all the tricks to circumvent them."

"Apparently, I'm not the only one." Wood looked at his visitor. The man was smart, experienced. He stood just out range of any desperate lunge Wood could make to stop what he knew was going to happen. "So what now?"

The man pulled his hand out of his jacket pocket, revealing the pistol with its attached suppressor on the end. "You know what happens now. My bosses were content on letting you stay around because you'd been useful. As long as you stayed off the grid, they would have let you go, but you were sloppy and careless. Engaging in a gunfight with New York City police officers at a "covert" CIA facility does not engender confidence in your ability to fly under the radar."

"That's crap and you know it." Mason snorted, defiance in his eyes. "This is personal for you. You're mad because I went after Castle and Beckett."

"It is personal. You should have left well enough alone. They had Bracken. They would have left well enough alone, but you had to go heavy and go loud." The man stood passively studying Wood.

"I had to protect my operation." Wood stared the man down. "Besides, Castle and Beckett's involvement was your fault. You pointed Castle towards the existence of LokSat a full year before I had to take out the AG investigative team. This is on you. I can live with my part, can you?"

"No."

"I knew it. How someone in your line of work has a conscience is beyond me." Mason Wood saw weakness. His adversary simply smiled.

"I meant, no, you can't live with that.' In a flash, the man's hand leapt up, bringing the gun out towards Wood. There was a snap and cough as the low velocity bullet zipped through the air and impacted Mason Wood in the forehead, killing him instantly. There wasn't even time for him to express surprise or pain. He simply just ceased living. The man slipped the gun back into his pocket and walked calmly towards the door. The door only opened from the outside, but he didn't stop walking. As he approached it, the door swung open.

There was no sign of Wood's prison guards. Instead, there was a petite, middle-aged woman in remarkable physical condition. She looked up at him, small tendrils of her red hair sweeping in front of her face. Without sparing a glance at the body in the pit, she shut the door and led the man down an auxiliary corridor. Within moments, they were in the large underground parking facility of the prison and were driving out the gate, unencumbered by checkpoints or questions. Their leadership in Washington found Mason Wood an embarrassment and had sanctioned his elimination. They drove down the barren, windswept Colorado highway in silence before she spoke.

"He's right, you know."

The man nodded. "I know."

"What if Castle starts asking questions? There's still a two month gap in his memory."

"I hope he doesn't." The man glanced out the window at the mountains in the distance. "I know I'm always saying that this is what comes with the job, but I'm getting tired of it."

"Really?" There was incredulity and warmth in her voice.

The man turned towards her and nodded. "Yeah, really. I think it may be time to call it quits. I don't want to do this anymore."

She smiled. "Me neither. Plus, if we're hiding in some remote corner of the planet, maybe Castle won't come searching for you."

"Maybe. I hope not. For now, that's got to be good enough." He put his hand down on the center console of the car. She reached down and grasped his hand and they drove towards the setting sun.

Rita and Jackson Hunt knew that they were lying to each other and to themselves. The job was their life. There was no getting away from it. They'd have to go on doing what they did. And deep down, Jackson Hunt knew that his son would come looking for him asking questions. The questions had answers Hunt was quite sure he was willing to answer. With no small sense of pride in his son, Jackson Hunt smiled. Dealing with Castle would have to come later.

Rita broke his concentration. "Where to now?"

"Well we still have to deal with Wood's organization. I don't want that hydra springing up everywhere."

"Where do you want to start?" Rita asked, knowing the answer.

Hunt smirked. "I think it's time we paid a visit to Mr. Flynn. I'd hate to think of the misery he's inflicting on his fellow inmates with that damn song."

A/N: One of the many questions I had about Season 8 was that Castle disappeared between Season 6 and Season 7. Beckett's AG team was killed at the beginning of Season 8. How did Castle know about LokSat a whole year ahead of time? This is one of the questions I wanted to get answered. I apologize if the murder mystery is dragging on. I have nothing but respect for the show's writers who could create 23 hour long murder mysteries a season. This is hard. Anyway, may be a week til the next posting since we're hitting a holiday weekend here in the states. Thanks for your patience and as always, feedback is appreciated.