Castle wasn't too concerned about Watanabe or his supposed elite mercenaries. If the old man actually tried to attack his estate?
He scoffed at the thought.
The security upgrades he had secretly installed over the past few months weren't just for show.
Unless the U.S. military decided to bomb his property with missiles, there was no way a small group of mercenaries could breach his estate's defenses.
What Watanabe didn't know—and what few people outside Castle's inner circle were aware of—was that his estate was practically a fortress. Hidden in the serene exterior were M2 Browning machine gun turrets, micro-missile launchers, and layers of automated defensive systems all controlled by Jarvis.
Castle figured Watanabe's brazen decision to bring a mercenary team to Long Island was rooted in ignorance of these defenses. After all, from the outside, the estate looked like a peaceful retreat, giving no hint of the firepower hidden within.
But even with all these preparations, Castle's mind was preoccupied with one persistent frustration: Beckett's strict opposition to his "preemptive defense" plan.
No matter how logical Castle thought his argument was—striking first to eliminate the threat before it fully formed—Beckett had stood firm. She insisted that attacking a group of nineteen people who had entered the U.S. legally, without any evidence of wrongdoing, would be a legal and moral disaster.
Castle couldn't argue with her reasoning, but it still left a bitter taste in his mouth. Everyone knew what Watanabe was planning, but until the old man made a move, neither Castle nor the NYPD could do anything without triggering serious legal and political consequences.
For Castle, the irony of the situation was maddening. Here he was, one of New York's most well-connected individuals, with state-of-the-art defenses and a team of ex-Spetsnaz bodyguards, yet he was forced to sit and wait for a maniac and his hired thugs to make the first move.
At least Castle could take comfort in one thing: his estate was far from defenseless. Thanks to Jarvis, his property was a digital fortress, monitored around the clock. Meanwhile, his daughter Alexis was under the constant protection of a team of ten heavily armed Spetsnaz operatives, who followed her even during her daily trips to college.
For Castle, the equation was simple. As long as Alexis and his mother, Martha (currently traveling in Europe), were safe, he had no reason to panic.
Between his estate's defenses, the Spetsnaz operatives, and the drone that Jarvis had assigned to shadow Alexis, Castle was confident that Watanabe's plans would crumble the moment they were put into action.
The only thing Castle wasn't happy about was having to respect Beckett's insistence on a "wait-and-see" approach. She had drilled it into him that attacking first would only lead to a legal mess he couldn't talk his way out of.
But while Beckett struggled with the moral and legal implications of their situation, Castle and his Russian bodyguards viewed things very differently.
"Boss, are you saying that the Japanese guy brought a team of mercenaries from the Middle East?" Ivan asked, barely able to contain his excitement.
Castle nodded, amused by his bodyguard's reaction. "Yep, and get this—they're staying in a mansion just five kilometers southeast of here. Practically next-door neighbors."
The room erupted in laughter.
"Finally, some action!" one of the Spetsnaz men exclaimed, cracking his knuckles in anticipation.
For the Spetsnaz, this was exactly what they had been waiting for. Their daily routines—consisting of patrolling the estate, maintaining the equipment, and playing cards—had started to wear thin. The prospect of going toe-to-toe with a group of mercenaries sounded like the perfect way to break the monotony.
"Boss," Ivan said with a mischievous grin, "just give the word, and we'll turn those mercenaries into mince meat."
Castle smirked but raised a hand to calm them down.
"Much as I'd love to unleash you guys, Kate's made it clear—no preemptive strikes. She doesn't want us starting anything."
The room filled with groans and murmurs of disappointment.
"Where's the fun in that?" one of the men muttered, earning a sharp glare from Ivan.
"Shut it," Ivan snapped. "The boss says we wait, so we wait. But..." He turned back to Castle, his grin returning. "If they make the first move, it's game on, right?"
Castle chuckled. "Absolutely. If they show up here looking for trouble, feel free to show them why Russia is known as the land of badasses."
The Spetsnaz erupted in cheers, their morale higher than ever.
Meanwhile, on the road from LaGuardia to Long Island, Watanabe was deep in conversation with the leader of his mercenary team.
Seated in the back of a luxurious sedan, the aging businessman outlined his plans to the heavily bearded mercenary.
"You've seen the situation. Our target is a well-known public figure in New York, with strong connections to the police thanks to his girlfriend. That's why I insisted on bringing you all here unarmed on business visas. Any weapons or illegal items would have drawn attention."
Watanabe glanced at the mercenary leader, his expression serious.
"Your weapons and equipment have already been secured. My contacts have ensured that everything will be waiting for you. If there's anything else you need, let me know. My only requirement is this: kill the man who destroyed my family. Once the job is done, you'll be extracted to Canada and out of North America before anyone knows what happened."
The mercenary leader smirked, leaning back in his seat. "This guy's just a novelist, right? How hard can it be?
Sure, the file says he's some kind of weapons expert and a shareholder in a few arms companies, but so what?
The only real threat is his team of Russian bodyguards. They're ex-Spetsnaz, which means they'll put up a fight. But honestly, New York cops? Ha! They're nothing compared to the guys we've gone up against in the Middle East."
Watanabe nodded, satisfied with the man's confidence. "You're correct to focus on the Russians. They're highly trained, but Castle hasn't armed them with heavy weapons. However, I've prepared military-grade equipment for your team, including two anti-tank missiles."
The mercenary leader's eyes lit up. "Anti-tank missiles? No kidding?!"
"That's right," Watanabe said, his voice filled with pride. "I've also secured the latest infrared and thermal imaging equipment used by U.S. special forces.
If you succeed in killing Castle, all of this equipment will be yours as a bonus."
The mercenary leader grinned, shaking Watanabe's hand enthusiastically. "Consider it done. With gear like that, this Castle guy won't survive the night."
Neither of them noticed that the car's Bluetooth microphone had been active the entire time. Every word of their conversation had been transmitted to Jarvis, who immediately relayed the details to Castle.
In his estate's control room, Castle read the transcript of their conversation with a smirk.
"Anti-tank missiles, huh?" he muttered to Ivan, who was standing beside him. "I think it's time to remind them why they should've stayed in the desert."
(End of Chapter)
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