Prologue: Message Received

Insomniac was one of the hottest nightclubs in Downtown Manhattan, filled with partygoers from ages 25 and older. Friday nights were the craziest time to be there – the music was up so high that the speakers were throbbing, dozens of guests were drinking (some very heavily), and even a few fights were started by the drunkards. None of this mattered much to Mark Tucker, a 29-year-old Caucasian bartender who had worked at Insomniac for nearly five months. Like most people with jobs, Tucker took this one not just for the money, but for the experience…and possibly the women.

One woman in particular – a purple-haired Asian who looked like she was underage – approached the neon counter. At first she appeared very flirty towards Tucker, smiling at him and asking if he worked there. When the moment came to where she finally ordered a flaming martini, Tucker was all set to impress her with bartending skills that would make Tom Cruise jealous. He poured the martini from the bottle into a cocktail glass and lit a match; but as he brought the match over the martini-filled glass…

FLOOM!

The martini suddenly ignited and the cocktail glass exploded right in front of Mark and his purple-haired customer. Shards of glass and drops of the martini sprayed into the faces of Mark and the young woman; both were suddenly engulfed in flames and screaming to death. While the girl reeled back and fell onto a nearby, occupied table, Mark slammed his flaming body against the rack behind him, causing many of the bottles to fall off and shattered on the floor.

Many patrons and other employees immediately took notice of Tucker's sudden situation and attempted to go to his aid; however, before any of them could have reached him…

BOOM!

The area that encompassed Tucker and all of the alcoholic beverages around him unexpectedly erupted in a fiery explosion that spread like wildfire, taking the lives of the young bartender and everyone else in the nightclub. The explosion shot out through the front entrance with the flames consuming the bouncer and a few guests who were entering as it happened. All who waited in the long line outside the club fled from the chaos, some of them dialing 911 as they tried to get away. The hottest nightclub in Downtown Manhattan had literally become just that within a few minutes.

After the fire department put out the fires that had taken out ninety percent of the nightclub, the police and paramedics finally arrived at the scene for investigation and to remove all of the charred dead bodies that littered the remnants of Insomniac. Amongst the police were Detective Kate Beckett of the NYPD's Twelfth Precinct Homicide Squad and fellow detectives Javier Esposito and Kevin Ryan, as well as best-selling mystery writer and "volunteer detective" Richard Castle. As the four moved past the police tape that kept any non-personnel out, they were less than surprised to see how much of a mess the explosion had caused.

"So what do we have, gentlemen?" Beckett asked Esposito and Ryan.

Ryan shook his head as he carried a notebook with very little details written on it. "All the witnesses are either dead or in intensive care. This explosion took out everyone and everything here."

"What caused the explosion?" Castle inquired.

Before anyone could answer Castle's question, their phones began to ring and vibrate in their pockets simultaneously, prompting them to take them out and see who was contacting them. On each phone was a text message that read, "Nitroglycerin."

Beckett frowned in suspicion. "Everyone got the same message?"

"Yeah," said a curious Castle. "Caller I.D. says it's unknown. Is this someone from the department? Somebody you guys know." He saw Esposito and Ryan shake their heads in reply. "Then who…?"

The phones rang and buzzed again. A new message appeared: "Throw a match into the wall."

Castle and the detectives exchanged awkward glances. "Anyone have a match?"

Ryan dug into his right coat pocket and retrieved a matchbox; taking out a single match and lighting it, he hurled it towards the nearest wall. When the fiery tip struck the charred structure, a new set of flames kindled, albeit stylishly. The team followed the trace of the flames as they were creating large letters such as "S," "H," "E," and "R" over one wall and "L," "O," "C," and "K" over another. After spelling "Sherlock" upon the walls, the flames traced to the floor and finally spelling out the word "Lives" near the feet of the investigators.

"Sherlock Lives?" Esposito read the flaming words aloud together.

"What the hell does that mean?" Beckett uttered.

"That…Sherlock lives?" Castle densely deduced, which got him one wry glance from Beckett. "Too obvious?"

Sherlock / Castle