The Girl I Left Behind Me
By
UCSBDad
Disclaimer: Sir! I do not own Castle, Sir! Rating: T: For language. Time: Three months after the end of season eight.
The two soldiers plowed their way through the NYPD reports for another half an hour.
"Mr. McCarty? There's a woman headed this way and she's looking right at you. And if looks could kill…"
McCarty looked at the approaching woman.
"Shit. That's my ex-wife."
"You want me to leave this time?"
"No, I may need you to help protect me this time."
Peake knew McCarty could handle just about anything, but he understood what he was saying. The woman coming towards them was seriously mad.
"You! Sergeant whatever your name is. Get lost. Now!'
Peake was halfway out of his chair when McCarty grabbed his arm and pushed him back down.
"Detective Demming, is it? Sergeant Peake and I are working. Do you need something? Officially?"
"To begin with, like Captain Beckett, I use my maiden name at work. And second, just how big an asshole are you, anyway?"
Peake was glad McCarty had made him stay. This had the makings of a great fight. Epic. Legendary, even.
"Since you and the rest of my former family did a great deal to make me what I am today, you should be able to figure that out on your own."
"We made a god damned mistake. You got screwed. We're sorry. I'm sorry. What in the fuck is it going to take to get you to act like a human being? This is your damned family, for God's sake. Do you understand that?"
"I understand my family. Believe me I understand them. Which I why I have no interest in them!"
"Mr. McCarty! Detective Moore!" Kate's voice cut through the argument. "Does this argument have anything to do with the case we're working?"
"Not a damned thing." McCarty barked.
"No, Captain." Moore said sullenly.
"If you two want to have a knock down, drag out fight, you'll do it somewhere other than in my precinct. Do you understand?"
Moore nodded, turned and stomped back to the elevator.
Kate turned to McCarty. "Let me ask you a question, McCarty. Granted you got screwed by the NYPD and by your family. Has it ever occurred to you that everything worked out for the best? You have a career that you seem to be doing very well in. You've probably gone further in the Army than you would have in the NYPD. Would you really be happier, knowing what you know now, if you were still a cop and still married to Detective Moore? Think about it."
Kate turned on her heel and went back to her office.
"She has a point." Peake said.
"She does. And I know she does. But what my family did to me still hurts. It hurts a lot."
The two continued to read the reports until they had read them all.
"Are you two done?" Kate asked.
"We are, Captain." McCarty replied.
"You should knock off now. There's nothing else happening. We're going to go back to the Bakari's bakery tomorrow to talk to, the daughter, Dalal, and hopefully Mr. Bakari. We haven't advised the family of the death of their son in Africa yet. Would it be appropriate for either you or Sergeant Peake to tell them? You know the most about the death, but you were part of the unit that killed him."
"It's never easy to tell someone that someone they love has been killed, ma'am. But since Peake knows the family, he might be best to tell them."
"Do you have any problem with that?" Kate asked Peake.
The young man shrugged. "I guess not."
"Another thing. From what you know of Muslim customs, would it be appropriate to tell the daughter rather than a male member of the family?"
Peake and McCarty looked at each other. Then McCarty spoke. "Muslim customs aren't all the same. African Muslims who live in the Sahel are different from urban Muslims who live in Damascus, Baghdad or someplace like that. US Muslims would be different still. But, no matter how we do it, its gonna hurt."
Kate stumbled as they entered the loft that evening. Before she could say a word, Castle picked her up and carried her towards the bedroom.
"Castle! I just stumbled. I caught my foot on the carpet. There's no reason for you to overreact."
"I always overreact where your health or safety is involved. I'm going to put you on the bed so you can have a nice nap before dinner."
Realizing that resistance was futile, Kate allowed herself to be placed gently on the bed.
"Is there anything you need?"
She hated to have to ask, but she was starting to feel soreness in her abdominal muscles. "Um, could you take my boots off, please?"
Castle removed her boots. When he was done he saw she was trying to take her jacket off.
"Let me do that."
"Castle, I'm perfectly capable of…." Before she'd finished the sentence, he had gently lifted her up and removed her jacket.
Then she started to take off her blouse.
"Why are you taking your blouse off?" He asked suspiciously.
"I need to take my bra off."
"Why?"
Kate gave him a dirty look. "If you had to wear one of the damned things after being shot you'd understand." Kate removed her bra and then pushed herself up so she was resting on the pillows. She examined herself.
"A bullet scar between my boobs, a big surgical scar from that shooting, a scar across my stomach from my first day as a captain. It looks like shit because I had to sew it up myself. And more scars and surgical scars from when that bastard Caleb Brown shot us." Kate sighed. "No wonder you look at Hastings' boobs."
Rick sat down beside her. "I did not look at Hastings' boobs. The only boobs I ever look at are yours. They're the best boobs there are. Beckett's best beautiful bouncing breathtaking bewitching bodacious busty buxom boobs."
Kate laughed and pulled Castle into a close embrace, then kissed him. Castle kissed back until he felt Kate place his hand on one of her boobs. He pulled back at once.
"Kate! You know were not cleared for any love making. The doctor specifically told us that."
Kate nodded. "I know. But we can make out, can't we? That's nowhere near as stressful as real sex. Just a little kissing, with a little tongue, and maybe you could play with my boobs a little. You like to play with my boobs, don't you?"
"I love playing with your boobs, but…."
Castle never finished the sentence as Kate had her tongue in his mouth.
In spite of his misgivings, Castle found himself kissing Kate's boobs and playing with her engorged nipples. He felt Kate reach down for his erection and stopped for a moment.
"If you can touch me, Castle, I should be able to touch you, right?"
He had no answer for that, so he began tweaking one nipple with one hand while sucking on the other one. Somehow, without him realizing how, Kate managed to get his pants off and hers as well. She was just pulling down her panties when…..
"Mom! Dad! What are you doing!" Alexis shrieked.
"You'd think someone in medical school could figure out what we're doing. "Castle said under his breath.
"You are not cleared for sex. Not in any way, shape or form. Are you trying to kill Mom?"
It was about this point that Alexis realized she was staring at her mostly naked parents, shrieked again, turned red and ran from the bedroom.
"You have no idea how much I've missed sex." Kate said with a sigh.
"Yes I do. And we both missed it this time. But, we really shouldn't until the doctor gives us the okay."
"You're right." Kate said, intending to seduce Castle as soon as possible.
"I'd better go settle Alexis down. You take a nap, okay?"
Castle quickly dressed.
"Pumpkin, I'm sorry you saw that. But, I love Kate more than anything and we just got carried away."
"Dad, I over reacted. I'm sorry. But, Kate really is my mom to me. She's the only one who's ever tried to be a mom for me. When the two of you were shot, I realized that I might lose both of my parents. And now I worry about both of you all the time."
Rick put his arms around his daughter and hugged her. "Kate, that is Mom, will be going back to work as a precinct captain. She'll be behind a desk from now on. You won't have to worry."
Alexis snorted. "Oh? I know you and I know Mom. You'll both be right in the middle of things."
"No we won't. No, let's get busy with dinner. You don't want Mom to starve, do you?"
The first thing next morning, Kate, Rick, Ryan, Espo, Hastings, Shaw and the two soldiers drove to the Beirut Bakery. Walking in, only Dalal was visible behind the counter.
"Hello, officers, and how are you…." She stopped when she saw a very familiar face. "Vince Peake? Is that you? You became a cop?"
Peake took a deep breath and walked towards Dalal. "Hi, Dalal. I'm not a cop. I'm a soldier. Can we go in the back somewhere? I have some bad news."
"Is it my dad? Did something happen to him?"
Peake reassured her it wasn't her dad, and taking her by the elbow, he led her back into the bakery.
"It's about your brother, Bob. Bashir, that is."
"He's in Cairo, studying our religion."
Peake shook his head. "He was in Mali, with a convoy of jihadis bringing weapons from Libya to jihadis in the Sahel."
"Was?" Dalal said, tears starting to form in her eyes.
"I'm sorry. He's dead."
She began to cry. Then she looked at Peake. "How do you know?"
"I told you. I'm a soldier now. Seventh Special Forces Group. I was there when his convoy was attacked."
"Did you kill him?" She asked.
"No."
"What happened?"
Peake told her the story of how US intelligence had picked up radio traffic indicating a large convoy of arms was being sent south from Libya. US and French forces tracked the convoy using satellite imagery, drones, interception of radio communications and even small recon teams staking out known jihadi routes. Once the convoy was well into Mali, a force of mixed French and Malian soldiers with a small group of US Special Forces was sent out. A flight of French Air Force planes destroyed most of the convoy and a French armored car had done for Bashir.
"We have his body. I know that Muslims are supposed to bury their dead ASAP, but…."
"I'll have to call my brother Fadal. Can you please tell me where…" Dalal stopped for a moment, then continued. "Can you tell me where he is?"
"Mr. McCarty has that information. He can give it to you." Peake wondered if he should try to interrogate Dalal about what he might have been doing. He decided to give it a try.
"Your brother was found in a Mercedes with a Turkish moneyman for the Daesh called Adnan Kartal. There was a lot of money in the car with them. US dollars, Euros, British pounds…."
"That bastard! He got Bashir killed!" Dalal spat and then began to cry.
Peake was confused. "Kartal? He couldn't have killed Bashir. He didn't have a gun on him and Bashir had an AK and a Beretta."
Dalal shook her head, but continued to cry. After a minute she spoke. "No, I meant Hadj Mohammed al Amriki. He's a mullah at the local mosque. Oh, he goes on about Islam being a religion of peace, but then he'll go on and on about how Muslims have a right to defend themselves. He's the one who talked Bashir into going to Egypt. It's his fault. I know it is."
"Dalal, I think you'd better talk to Captain Beckett and Mr. McCarty about this."
Dalal quickly explained who Mohammed al Amriki was.
"He's an American, Caucasian, who converted to Islam in the late eighties. He's made the pilgrimage to Mecca and he has studied at al-Azhar University in Cairo. It is probably the finest center of Islamic learning in the world."
"The finest center of Sunni Islamic learning." McCarty said, under his breath.
Dalal looked at him, but made no reply. Shaw on the other hand glared at him.
"We'll go back and see what we can get on the mullah from FBI sources. Mr. McCarty, could you ask your colleagues for whatever info they have?"