American TV Writer

The two men had been partners in crime for years, so there was no need for excessive explanations or formalities. However, Vulcan Simmons was surprised that Senator William Bracken would think of using Nick Coonan again after ten years. Ever since Coonan had eliminated the four lawyers who were relentlessly pursuing corruption and police misconduct, freeing Bracken from exposure, he had been working under Simmons, helping smuggle drugs from Afghanistan to New York. Over the years, Coonan had expanded Simmons' market significantly. But now, suddenly, Bracken wanted him to return to his old trade?

Even though Vulcan Simmons had become a powerful figure in New York's drug empire, he still didn't dare defy Senator Bracken's orders. After all, Simmons was merely a tool—a pair of white gloves for Bracken to use to keep his own hands clean. Bracken used his political power to shield Simmons, allowing him to smuggle drugs without fear. In return, Simmons funneled most of the profits back to Bracken, who used the dirty money to climb higher in his political career, ensuring Simmons' safety along the way. So when Bracken summoned him to discuss a job, Simmons readily agreed, no matter how powerful he had become.

Once Simmons was certain that Bracken's main reason for summoning him was to arrange for Coonan to eliminate a congressman who posed a serious threat to Bracken's upcoming presidential campaign, he was relieved that there were no plans to dispose of him. He quickly agreed to the task and promised to return to New York immediately to set things in motion. Simmons assured Bracken that Coonan would soon depart for Washington to silence the congressman who had dared to threaten his boss, making sure he would never speak again.

Senator Bracken was very satisfied with Simmons' eagerness and respectful attitude. This only increased his anticipation for the power he could gain. He knew that Simmons' compliance was largely due to his status as a sitting senator for New York State. This position provided Bracken with many advantages, and if he succeeded in the upcoming presidential election, he would wield even greater power. While the President was often just a puppet of the financial elite, it was still a powerful position nonetheless.

Bracken didn't mind how many people he had to kill to ensure that his presidential campaign wouldn't be derailed. After all, this had been his strategy from the very beginning of his political career: if he couldn't solve a problem, he would eliminate the person causing it.

This strategy had always served him well, especially since he had both power and money at his disposal. While Simmons wasn't his only enforcer, and Coonan wasn't his only "cleaner," it made sense to use them again. Coonan, after all, was highly skilled, with a background as a special forces soldier and extensive experience in handling "problems" for Bracken.

Compared to the security detail of a senator, the protection around a congressman wouldn't pose much of a challenge for someone like Coonan. Moreover, Bracken had already placated the congressman, Gavin, with promises, so it wouldn't be difficult to lure him into a trap where Coonan could strike. For Bracken, Gavin was already a dead man.

The only thing left was to act quickly, ensuring that this was done before the FBI or the Justice Department could apprehend the congressman. That was why Bracken had skipped tonight's charity fundraiser in Manhattan, choosing instead to meet with Simmons in Hampton. He was racing against time to stay ahead of the federal authorities.

After all, even the FBI and the Justice Department had to follow procedures to investigate a congressman. Gavin, no matter how foolish, was still a member of the U.S. Congress, and it would take more than circumstantial evidence for the FBI to arrest him. This gave Bracken the perfect window of opportunity.

Having agreed to the plan, Simmons knew there was no reason to linger. He stood up, nodded to Bracken, who was still standing by the window with a glass of wine, and left as quietly as he had arrived. Only the increasingly sinister face of Senator William Bracken remained, illuminated by the interplay of lights and shadows.

Back in Castle's study...

"Castle, are you saying now is the best time for us to use the excuse of drug smuggling to investigate Vulcan Simmons and Nick Coonan?" Beckett finally snapped out of her silent contemplation, turning to Castle.

She was uncertain about Castle's claim. After all, William Bracken was still a formidable figure. Although she knew Castle had evidence that could bring Bracken down, that evidence seemed fragile in the hands of someone like her, who was only a precinct captain. It was hard for her to believe that, just as she had resolved to take action, Bracken would face such a significant crisis.

Castle grinned mischievously, winking at her. "It's your lucky break! Who would have guessed that Bracken was secretly involved with a federal fugitive like Vincent Adler? And that Vincent would dare sneak back to New York to try and salvage a treasure-laden submarine? Oh, by the way, the FBI and the Justice Department took over the case this morning. According to the latest info, Vincent Adler, who could have testified against Bracken, was shot dead by a sniper right under the FBI's nose, barely ten minutes after his arrest. This has embarrassed the FBI immensely. There's already evidence linking Vincent to a congressman, and if the FBI doesn't let up, that congressman won't last long.

As for Bracken, he hasn't been exposed yet, but it's only a matter of time. You have to trust that the FBI, now humiliated, won't let this go. In the face of a powerful national security apparatus, what is Senator Bracken compared to that?"

Beckett was overwhelmed by the sheer amount of information Castle was throwing at her. She glared at him, half-annoyed that he hadn't organized the information more logically before dumping it all on her. Yet, she was also grateful that he was doing everything he could to help her, gathering any information that could be used against Bracken.

But Castle wasn't a professional investigator, and his haphazard delivery of information left her struggling to process it all.

Seeing Beckett's rare display of frustration, Castle couldn't help but smile. He had said everything that needed to be said, so now...

Beckett, seeing Castle's shameless attempts to flirt, was both exasperated and amused. However, she also agreed that there was no need to rush. After all, the FBI, with its bruised ego, would be taking the lead. So, half-reluctantly, she let Castle carry her into the bedroom.

At the same time, in the attic of June's mansion at 87 Canal Street, Neal Caffrey sat at his dining table, having just returned from a grueling session of questioning by the FBI. Across from him, Mozzie was sipping a glass of his finest wine with a look of pure enjoyment, while Alex sat beside him. Today's interrogation had been intense; Vincent's death and the empty submarine had driven the FBI to the brink of madness. Fortunately, Mozzie's timely arrival had forced the agents to follow proper procedures during the interrogation. And for seasoned pros like Neal and Alex, standard procedures were child's play. After just a few hours at the FBI, the two had returned home with Mozzie as their "lawyer."

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