Because Castle had watched the original series, he knew exactly where the "Wild Boar" bar was located. It was the same place Jerry Tyson had cryptically told Beckett about—where Marcus Gates liked to hang out.
Driving as fast as possible, Castle made his way to the bar, feeling a strange sense that both of his targets might be there together. Since Castle had already disrupted Marcus's meticulously planned murder before it could even begin, Marcus might now be meeting with Paul McCard, the guy tasked with creating an alibi for him tonight. Paul, the coworker of the victim Linda Russell, bore a strong resemblance to Marcus when in disguise. Castle knew Marcus wouldn't easily give up on someone who could help establish his alibi.
Castle parked his car two blocks away from the bar, using basic counter-surveillance tactics. He knew Beckett would eventually head to Shinnecock Penitentiary to speak with Jerry Tyson, thanks to his earlier hint. He didn't want any loose ends that could lead back to him. Walking through a narrow alley, Castle made his way toward the dimly lit "Wild Boar" bar.
As soon as he stepped inside, Castle spotted Marcus Gates and his accomplice, Paul McCard, sitting in a corner. Paul was sweating profusely, clearly nervous about the failed plan. Castle, feeling a sense of accomplishment, headed to the bar and ordered a whiskey. Afterward, he moved to a darker corner, knowing that his upscale suit was out of place in this biker bar filled with burly men in leather jackets. If he stayed at the bar, he might attract unwanted attention, and that would make things difficult later. Castle couldn't risk Beckett—or anyone else—tracing his presence here. He needed to stay low-key.
Despite the tough crowd, the atmosphere was surprisingly calm. The tattooed patrons, though intimidating, were laid back, enjoying the light music playing in the background. Even Castle, in his suit, sipping his whiskey, didn't draw any hostile glances. This lack of attention eased Castle's earlier concerns about being noticed.
Marcus and Paul, clearly upset about the night's events, whispered to each other briefly before standing and leaving the bar together. Castle watched them go, then quickly finished his whiskey and followed.
Marcus drove a popular Ford F-150 pickup truck, and as he and Paul approached the vehicle, Castle took stock of the surroundings. There were no surveillance cameras in sight. Thanks to the USA's penchant for alleyways, Castle's only concern—being caught on camera—was no longer an issue. Just as Marcus opened the truck door, Castle, now standing behind them, stepped closer with two silenced pistols drawn.
"Marcus Gates," Castle said calmly. "Remember when I ruined your plan to kill Kim Foster earlier tonight? How does that make you feel?"
Though Marcus couldn't see Castle's guns, Paul, who was facing him, certainly did. The sight of Castle's pistols left Paul frozen in terror, unable to even scream for help.
Marcus, startled by the mention of his failed plan, began to turn around. He was already frustrated by how the night had gone, knowing it had thrown off his and Jerry Tyson's carefully laid plans. But now, this stranger was revealing that he had been watching Marcus the whole time, and was now holding him at gunpoint. Why? Was this guy planning to kill him?
Before Marcus could voice his confusion, Castle shot him in the heart without hesitation. Then, before Paul could make a sound, Castle fired another round from his second gun, killing him instantly. Both men collapsed in the quiet alley.
Looking down at Marcus's lifeless face, still frozen in shock, Castle muttered with disdain, "Did you really expect me to explain how I knew all this, you worthless scumbag?"
Castle sighed. "Damn it, now I have to figure out where to bury you two. I should've at least scoped out a place before pulling the trigger. What a waste…"
Completely forgetting that there was a professional cleanup crew based at the Continental Hotel in New York, Castle began grumbling to himself. He loaded the bodies of Marcus and Paul into the back of the Ford F-150, covering them with a tarp. He then called Little Fatty to let him know the job was done, and it was safe to call off the drone. Since Little Fatty had been using the drone to track Marcus from above, Castle couldn't use his personal storage space to hide the bodies without raising suspicion.
Castle silently thanked the engineers at Ford for designing such a spacious truck. It easily fit both bodies, each over six feet tall. After securing the tarp, Castle called his team of ex-Russian special forces operatives, who were currently staying at Gianna's estate on Long Island.
Originally, Castle had planned to dispose of the bodies himself. But he quickly changed his mind, remembering that he was paying these guys a hefty salary—$150,000 a year each. This was the perfect time for them to earn their keep.
Big Ivan, one of Castle's top men, was enjoying some vodka at the estate when he received the call. His boss needed him to dispose of two bodies? Strange. Why wasn't Castle calling the cleaning crew at the Continental Hotel instead? But Big Ivan didn't ask questions. After all, Castle paid him and his team well, so this was a small favor in return.
Castle sat atop Marcus's now-dead Ford F-150, waiting for Big Ivan and three of his men to arrive from Long Island. Once they showed up, Castle instructed them to get rid of the bodies completely, ensuring they would disappear from the world forever. With that taken care of, Castle relaxed, strolled over to his car, and headed home for a good night's sleep.
He didn't concern himself with how Big Ivan would handle the bodies. For a team of ex-Special Forces soldiers, making two corpses vanish was no challenge. Castle had full confidence they would carry out his orders.
Just as Castle predicted, Beckett didn't return home that night. She stayed at the precinct, working late into the night. Castle decided that the next morning, he would go to the station and shift focus to Jerry Tyson, Marcus's prison buddy. Tyson was likely already growing impatient at Shinnecock, waiting for his moment.
The next morning, Castle leisurely enjoyed breakfast with his daughter before heading out. He picked up two coffees on the way and walked into the 12th precinct like he owned the place.
Meanwhile, two FBI agents, Diana and Jones, were dumbfounded. They had gone back to their offices the previous evening, only to return and find out that the NYPD had tracked down the 3XK suspect, Marcus Gates. Not only had they identified him, but they had also thwarted his plan right at the critical moment before he could kill again. The suspect had escaped, but now the NYPD had his true identity.
Diana and Jones couldn't believe it. They started to question whether the FBI was even real. How could they, with all their resources, have been chasing 3XK for years without making any progress, while the NYPD solved the case in less than three days? It just didn't make sense!
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