Summary: Richard Castle is the bringer of death.

A highly skilled assassin, Castle is the man who moves in the shadows to get the most difficult of jobs done for the U.S. government. He's the best and the one called upon to eliminate the worst humanity has to offer.

To some there is no one that can match his ability and skill. Except for one. Kate Beckett. An assassin as well who has come the closest to match Castle in terms of lethal prowess and getting the job done. However, she has gone rogue.

The government is now scrambling to get her back by any means. They bring in Castle. His mission if he chooses to accept it: Bring in Beckett. Dead or Alive.

But things aren't always what they seem and soon it becomes apparent that a powerful force is in motion and Beckett's betrayal was for a reason which could bring about massive shock waves throughout the entire world.

Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own anything. All rights are owned by ABC and Andrew Marlowe.

Content Disclaimer: This story contains mature themes such as violence and death. Please be warned.

He almost felt a sensation of joy by the death that had taken place in front of him. Or was about to take place as Josh Davidson adjusted his Bluetooth device in his ear. The computer screen he was staring at had become dim so he moved his mouse that brightened up the monitor and a dull video became clear. It revealed a situation that he wasn't facing but rather the agent a thousand miles away in the Middle East.

And he was thankful for that because god knows he would just bail on his motorcycle and run forever if it meant escaping the fate some of the agents have had to face.

Thousands of miles away there was someone lying down on their chest with a sniper rifle pointed at a certain individual with Josh getting the best view of the house. Well, a video feed with a Starbucks coffee in one hand but minus the grueling heat and the magnitude of killing a very important political figure on foreign soil. Like many others the agent on his headset had been trained to human perfection and was made into a machine capable of taking down an entire army base single handedly. His Bluetooth device buzzed which meant that the agent on the other side was about to talk.

Josh Davidson was currently in Washington D.C. In an office with four walls and two huge windows overlooking the street that led to the White House about seven miles away. It was a cloudy day but specks of sunlight were still hitting the street and the building he was in really didn't stand out from the rest of the neighborhood. It was an eight story building made of brick and in a neighborhood that consisted mostly of old houses and buildings from the 70s in desperate need of restoration. "Make the outside look humble because the inside is what matters the most at the end of the day" is what the architect had in mind thought Josh. As from the outside the building looked ordinary but on the inside was a building fitted with the most modern tech known to man and security that could potentially rival the toughest guarded state secrets. Finger print scanners, retina scanners, body analysis cameras, and armed guards on every corner were some of the security that Josh was aware of. Only the people at the top knew what else they had up their sleeve.

He took a small sip of his coffee in which a large amount of sugar and caramel had been poured into. He knew it was bad but some days he just had to drink it in order to function right. He wasn't exactly watching a TV show where he could just relax and watch the story unfold but rather he was in charge of an operation that could shape the foreign policy of the United States.

He hit the speaker button which allowed him full voice access and said, "Black Panther, location please. Establish satellite connection."

Some days he sounded like a 911 operator while on other days he would just say the word execute and the deed was done.

His Bluetooth came to life almost immediately. "Black Panther reporting. Approximately four hundred yards away from Canon on the fourth floor looking out on the third window from the right facing east. Please access the camera on the side of the building across the street and you should see a muzzle popping out."

Josh went to work and hacked into the camera feed and sure enough there was a small muzzle popping out of the window overlooking the city that was home to many of the enemies of the free world. The particular rifle was handcrafted by engineers to shoot from distances of over two hundred yards depending on the skill of the person.

As if this very moment no other better person could be operating that rifle.

"Confirmation received, Black Panther. All conditions look normal. The rifle is ready I assume?"

"As always, Lector Two. The target is on scope. All escape routes fully analyzed. Suppressor is a go and the sun behind me and shining right on their faces. No shine from my end to detect a sniper. All is set."

"Roger roger, Black Panther."

Josh looked at the time at the bottom of his screen and said, "Local time is up to date. No further updates on the intel either. You're good from where we stand now."

"Fully noted, Intel looks solid from my end as well, Lector Two."

Josh dragged the file with all the mission dossier and maximized it on a secondary screen to his right. "No further intel received. Intel is the same as before. Target will arrive on scene in a matte Range Rover and will stop approximately 10 feet from the entrance. Media will delay his entrance by 15 seconds and he will then walk on. 20 seconds in total.

"20 seconds walk thru is confirmed. Natural variables taken into account. No chance of rain or sandstorms?"

"Roger that," said Josh. "If the interview lasts long. Proceed without caution."

"Roger that, Lector Two."

Josh kept refreshing all his feeds and information docks for any changes but everything remained the same till he saw it. "Black Panther, Range Rover is approaching slowly to the Red Carpet."

"Visual confirmed. Line of sight established with target. No obstruction of view either."

"Crowd is getting rowdy. Should the source move back the crowd further?"

"Crowd has been there for a while. They are swaying towards the curb and away from the middle of the carpet and media. The path is already dotted for the target and in line of fire."

Josh zoomed in on the Red Carpet and sure enough there was a dotted line illuminating a path towards the entrance.

"Confirmed, Black Panther. You're set for now."

Some of his fellow workers might not agree with him but he loved having the eagle's eye view of these missions. He felt like a human god almost but without the actual guilt of killing someone. He was never in danger of his life as the person on his Bluetooth device took care of that for him. Sometimes all of this didn't add up but he never really delved deep into for he valued his sanity more.

His life wasn't on the line but rather the almost terminator of a human being on the other side. He never truly could comprehend why they do it. As a failed mission meant getting a bullet to the head and no one would notice. The thing about these hitmen and hitwomen was that they had no identity in real life. No tax filings, no receipts, no bank accounts or a family for that matter. The worst scenario maybe that the shooter gets caught and makes the national news but he would still be beheaded as the US would not acknowledge his or her existence.

Meanwhile, back in Washington, Josh sat comfortably in his leather chair with one hand on his mouse while the other occupied his coffee.

At the end of the day the fact was that a lot of people could shoot a gun with enough practice but he had the expertise to carry out all the necessary intel and locations on potential target. He was worth protecting and pay big money for.

Josh looked at the video feed of the local Arabian channel and sure enough the target was there on time.

"Visual confirmed."

"Reconfirm before you shoot."

"Roger."

It was as though he was playing a game as he tightened the grip on his mouse. He had been an analyst for a while now and had gone up through his time as a drone pilot. It was borderline exhilarating for him push a button and see a target go up in flames.

As the seconds passed by ever so slowly his own breathe started to increase. His heart rate went up but he knew the shooter on the other end was as calm as humanly possible considering the circumstances.

Finally the convoy came to a halt and the armed security guards opened the car doors. Muscular, bald headed, and cruel looking men looked for any danger with guns holstered at the ready in their hands. They looked professional but the shooter assigned this mission was on another level. They never stood a chance according to Josh.

He had lost count on how many shooters and agents he had sent out on a mission but he trusted every single one of them. He trusted the system that had raised him.

The target got out of his car and the sun shined on his glasses revealing a gruff looking face with a reasonable amount of sweat. He was nervous and it showed. The target was a dictator by the name Samoor Ali who had a dream that saw him lead an already troubled nation down an even disastrous road. All the allies did not agree with that and the threat of a nation going under was not going to happen.

This is where Josh and his agents came into play and put this problem to bed as quickly as possible. Other willing candidates had shown their desire to run the Middle Eastern and their views aligned with the rest of the modern world. Influencing those candidate would not be a problem so that meant more allies in a region full of turmoil. It was worth the risk.

But almost none of this concerned Josh. He was an analyst for one of the most covert agencies in the US and this was his job and he had to execute it.

His Bluetooth came back to life, "Almost time."

"Roger that, Black Panther. Take wind pressure into account," replied Josh. Many would say good luck after that but in this line of work almost all of it had nothing to do with luck.

He set off his countdown timer and saw the local reporters try and get in a question. This was a good thing as it meant more time to line up a perfect shot.

Josh watched closely as the target dragged on his answers. He took a bite of his half eaten donut but his eyes never left the video feed. Ali then stepped back and started waving at some people he called "dream fans". The security got tight and together dragged almost all the reporters and crowd to the edge of the curb.

What they didn't realize was that a sniper was locked in on the head of the dictator.

Soon the twenty seconds walk came and then it became ten.

Few seconds remained but Josh's eyes never left the screen and locked eyes with the target.

He had an uneasy feeling that he almost knew death was upon on him.

Death is upon you my friend, thought Josh. You had your fun.

Mission accomplished would be the words he will typing soon and then onto the next one.

But first he had to treat himself to a bike ride home and a dinner which consisted of the highest quality meat and some wine.

Seconds went by.

One second remaining.

Josh was locked in. Almost nothing could break his concentration. His hand hovered over the left mouse button as though he was going to take the shot.

A loud shattering noise burst through the room as the window behind him destroyed itself.

The bullet entered the back of Josh's head after it sliced through the pillow he had set up on the top half of his chair. It cleared his skull in one go and smashed into the screen right into the virtual face of Samoor Ali.

The target walked right into the building without harm and a smile on his face.

Josh's head slumped onto the keyboard and slid down slowly.

There will be no bike ride home.

No dinner.

Only an autopsy of an agent killed in the line of duty.