About 2 years ago:
Richard Castle is sitting in the conference room. He's waiting, rather impatiently, for these CIA guys to give him the go-ahead and send him home. He's leaning forward slightly, hands folded in front of him on the table, visualizing the next 24 hours. He can't wait to see Kate again. He needs, first and foremost, to apologize for missing their wedding. Considering his reason, however, he's sure she'll understand. Well, he hopes she will. But it's a very optimistic sort of hope. She would know that nothing less than savings thousands of innocent lives would have kept him from her. Still, he didn't exactly get a choice on the timing of his (quite explosive) exit, nor did he get to determine the length of his time away. It's only been three weeks, but it has felt like forever. And considering the state the CIA left his car in on the day of their wedding, the day they made him disappear, he is sure that those weeks were even harder on her.
He looks up when he hears someone entering the room, and a genuine smile spreads across his face when he sees the agent who was assigned to handle his discharge from the agency. Rogers, Castle thinks. He's pretty sure that was his name. Or what he claimed his name was. One never knew when dealing with these guys. Whatever the case, Rick was happy to see him. It meant he was one step closer to going home. But when the agent sees his grin, he only gives him a tight smile in return. "Thanks again, Mr. Castle," he tells him. "Your help in securing Bilal is greatly appreciated. He's already settling in to his new life, and that is largely thanks to you."
"Good." Castle replies. But his smile is fading. Somethings wrong. The guys looking twitchy. And that file…it looks like it has more than just release forms and confidentiality agreements. Still he keeps his tone light as he adds, "Glad to help. Now take me home." Rogers doesn't respond right away, and Castle's bad feeling is growing steadily worse. Struggling to keep his voice even and free of accusation, he speaks again. "Is there something else?"
The CIA agent is looking at his paperwork, and now Rick is sure he is squirming, if ever so slightly. After one more brief hesitation and a deep breath, Rogers finally looks up and says, "We need your help on something else…something…related to you."
No. The word slams up in Castle's mind like iron gates clanging shut. He is not getting involved. He's done with all of this cloak and dagger. A love of conspiracy and intrigue he has, but right now? All he wants is to get back home, back to Kate, to start making up for his lost time.
Still…he can't help but be just a little bit curious. "What do you mean, 'related to me'?" He keeps his tone hard as he asks his question, curious does not mean conceding.
Rogers looks up and now Rick sees the CIA agent in him coming out. The resolve in Rogers' face matches his own. "When was the last time you saw your father?" Rogers asks.
Castle is proud of himself. He doesn't even blink at the question. He does, however, think for a moment before replying, casting his mind back to the last time he and Jackson Hunt crossed paths. It wasn't exactly the most touching father-son reunion. "A few months ago," Castle finally answers. "He was working undercover trying to find a mole in your organization. But you already know that."
Rogers' mouth twists a little, and he tilts his head, his eyes glancing down briefly to the file still in his hands. When they flick back up towards him, Rick sees the warning there. Brace yourself. And for good reason. The agent doesn't mince his next words. "We believe your father has gone rogue."
It was a blow Castle didn't expect. Not from them. Not from the very organization that threw his father into the mission that got him shot and stumbling to his door. Not from the place that kept Jackson Hunt from ever being a real father to him, a real grandfather to Alexis. Castle clenches his teeth. His happy, or at least neutral façade is forgotten. "That…that is…" He shakes his head, getting up and starting to pace. He wants to rage at them. Everything his father has given up for this agency, everything Rick himself has given them in just the last few weeks. "Jackson Hunt would never turn on you guys, that's just…ridiculous. It's impossible." He knows shouting won't help, but his rising anger means he can't really help his rise in volume.
The agent doesn't back down, however. In fact, judging by his calm, if somewhat put-upon, demeanor, he seems to have expected this response. "Hear me out," he says, voice firm but placating, then goes a touch softer he adds, "Please."
It's the please that stops Castle from arguing. He breathes in deeply through his nose, and forces himself relax little as he exhales. He makes his way back to his chair and sits back down before nodding at Rogers.
The agent quickly launches into the explanation "Your father was assigned to try to find a mole in the CIA. Last we heard from him he was confident he was getting closer. But a few months ago, he went dark. We haven't heard from him at all since then. Thanks to some sources of other operatives, we believe he is now involved in a drug operation, very high level. It's known as Locksat. Evidence suggests he's actually become a higher-up in the organization." Rogers pauses, but Castle doesn't respond. The agent seems to take this as a sign to continue. "We don't believe he is the mole he was originally assigned to track down," he goes on, "but we do think he's working with him now, maybe playing both sides through him now. Or maybe planning to do that on his own when he resurfaces. Whatever the case, we need to find him. We need to definitively determine what role he's decided to play. And we need to know if he has completely turned or not."
Rick heaves a sigh. Sometime during that last bit he started staring at his hands. Particularly his left one. The one he's supposed to have a ring on by now. He doesn't want his father being falsely labeled as a rouge operative. And if this was a year ago, or even a year from now…but he's not CIA. He's not even a real cop. And he doesn't owe any of them anything. And he owes his fiancé quite a bit, including a reunion by the end of the day. He looks back up at the agent, waits a beat, then says, "Well, good luck with that." He immediately begins to rise.
"We need your help Mr. Castle," Rogers says, but it's not the words that make Castle sink back down before he even realizes it. There's a pleading note in his tone that Castle hasn't often heard, and never from a fed. And never ever from a CIA agent.
His surprise, however, wars with his frustration. "Why?" he demands. "What can I do? I don't know anything."
"You know more than you think. You have proven to be an excellent investigator, when you shadowed here, with the NYPD, and even on your own. And you handled yourself well with this extraction. You can help us find the truth."
"How? What do you want me to do?" He's almost shouting again, because some part of his brain is making a last-ditch effort to keep fighting, to not give in to this madness.
"We want you to use your skills, your contacts, and," he adds in a quieter, almost humorous tone, "our money, along with your connection to Jackson Hunt to find your father. Find out what's really going on, and if there is possibly a light at the end of this tunnel."
Castle is now staring up at the ceiling. So close. He is so close to going home. He's pretty sure that bit about the light at the end of the tunnel was for his sake. From the doubt in his voice, it's quite obvious that Rogers believes the rouge operative theory. Castle almost wants to believe him. It would be simpler. Because that man…he's not his family. He's used Castle and nearly got him killed. But…Jackson is still his father. And he saved Alexis. Granted, she wouldn't have been in that situation if not for Jackson in the first place, but…still. Rick knows his father didn't go rogue. And if he turned his back on him now there was no telling how far the CIA might go to keep him from spilling their secrets. In which case, Castle is his father's best chance at staying alive.
Letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, Castle looks back at Rogers, resigned to his fate. Beckett's going to kill him. "Ok. Let's get started then."
Rogers nods and sits down across from him, opening the file he's been holding and spreading out some of the documents and pictures inside. And as Castle gets his first glimpse at his new assignment, he immediately begins pleading with his fiancé in his head. "Oh Kate, forgive me."