Why had Castle so decisively sent away the senior vice president from Northrop Grumman after stating his terms?
It wasn't just because he knew the VP was merely a messenger without any decision-making authority. The real reason was that the old Watanabe had already arrived in New York.
What shocked both Castle and Beckett, who had dispatched Esposito and the team to monitor Watanabe and his ten mercenaries at LaGuardia Airport, was Watanabe's audacity. Consumed by hatred for the man who had forced his son into suicide and thrown his nephew, Nakajima Kazuo, into a volcano, the old man had somehow managed to rent a property on Long Island—just a stone's throw from Castle's own estate.
Watanabe had secured a mansion located southeast of Castle's estate, a mere five kilometers away in a straight line. The clear message? He intended to confront Castle head-on.
As soon as he and his team of unarmed mercenaries landed, Watanabe headed straight for Long Island. This prompted Castle to lose any lingering patience for Northrop Grumman's affairs. He had already conveyed his stance: no more cheap or exclusive deals for his groundbreaking technology. If they wanted it, they'd have to pay—no exceptions. With that matter settled, his focus turned entirely to the imminent threat from Watanabe.
Castle now contemplated launching what he called a "preemptive defense"—essentially sending Ivan and his crew to eliminate Watanabe and his mercenaries before they could arm themselves. But the idea was met with vehement opposition from Beckett.
After hearing Castle's proposed plan over the phone, Beckett furiously scolded him.
"Are you insane? You're talking about ambushing nineteen people, some of whom are mercenaries, on the Long Island Expressway? What do you think the NYPD is going to do—stand by and let your guys stage a massacre?"
Castle sheepishly tried to explain, "I get it, Kate. You've got Esposito tailing them, and so far, they haven't done anything illegal. No weapons, no contraband.
But think about it: Watanabe is openly gunning for me. He didn't even try to hide it. The guy rented a place just five kilometers from here! What do you expect me to do—wait until they storm our gates and then defend myself? How can we be sure that lunatic won't escalate things into something far worse?"
Beckett sighed, her frustration evident. She knew Castle wasn't entirely wrong. As a police officer, her hands were tied by the fact that Watanabe and his group hadn't broken any laws. They had entered the U.S. legally, passed customs inspections without issue, and carried no weapons. As of now, there was no legal pretext to detain or stop them.
But as Castle's partner—and as someone deeply aware of how far Watanabe might go—she was equally uneasy about just waiting for the situation to explode.
Beckett found herself in a difficult position. On one hand, Castle's preemptive approach conflicted with her moral and professional values. On the other, she couldn't deny the danger of allowing Watanabe and his mercenaries to operate freely.
What made the situation worse was Watanabe's mindset. The old man, now blinded by rage and grief, was determined to take Castle down with him. In his view, the Japanese government had betrayed his son by pressuring him into suicide after the failed kidnapping. Furthermore, because the government's ties to Amir Barkawi were classified, Watanabe didn't realize there was an ongoing larger plan in the works. He mistakenly believed his government had decided to sweep everything under the rug, leaving him to bear the losses alone.
Feeling abandoned, Watanabe had taken matters into his own hands. From hiring a hitman to forming alliances with mercenaries in the Middle East, he was willing to exhaust every resource to exact his revenge.
This relentless determination left Beckett feeling powerless. On paper, Watanabe had done nothing wrong since arriving in New York. As a result, her hands were tied.
Meanwhile, Castle's "security team" of retired Russian special forces soldiers had an entirely different reaction to the news.
"Boss, are you saying those Japanese guys brought a mercenary team here from the Middle East?!" Ivan's face lit up with excitement.
He wasn't alone. The group of ex-spetsnaz soldiers—men who had seen it all and thrived on adrenaline—were practically giddy at the thought of facing a team of "top-tier" mercenaries.
Castle nodded, amused by their enthusiasm. "Yeah, and guess what? Watanabe rented a mansion just five kilometers southeast of here. Looks like we're going to be neighbors."
The room erupted into laughter and cheers.
"Finally! Some action!" one of Ivan's men shouted, while another cracked his knuckles in anticipation.
These former spetsnaz soldiers, now Castle's personal security team, had nothing but gratitude for their new employer. Castle had gone above and beyond to relocate their families to New York, ensuring their loved ones had comfortable lives. He treated them well, paid generously, and—even in situations like this—showed complete confidence in their abilities.
For Ivan and his team, Castle wasn't just a boss. He was someone worth fighting for.
So, when they heard that Watanabe and his mercenaries were essentially declaring war, their response was simple: bring it on.
"Boss," Ivan said with a wicked grin, "you just say the word, and we'll make sure those 'mercenaries' regret ever stepping foot on Long Island."
Castle chuckled but quickly raised a hand to silence them.
"As much as I'd love to let you guys off the leash," he said, "Kate's already warned me—no 'preemptive defense.' She doesn't want us starting anything."
The room filled with groans and murmurs of disappointment.
"That's no fun," one of the men muttered, earning a glare from Ivan.
"Shut up," Ivan snapped. "If the boss says we wait, we wait. But..." He turned back to Castle, his grin returning. "Boss, when they make the first move, it's fair game, right?"
Castle smirked. "Absolutely. If they come knocking, feel free to show them why you guys are called 'the best of the best.'"
The men erupted into cheers once more, their morale higher than ever.
Castle, however, couldn't shake his lingering concern.
Beckett's warnings were valid. The NYPD, federal agencies, and even local residents wouldn't tolerate open conflict on Long Island. While his team could certainly handle the threat, the potential fallout—from legal repercussions to public backlash—could create more problems than Watanabe himself.
For now, Castle would abide by Beckett's advice. But deep down, he couldn't help but think that letting Watanabe make the first move might be exactly what the old man wanted.
(End of Chapter)
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