The Push
Chapter 12
When he woke up at first, Castle couldn't quite believe the warmth pressed into the curve of his body, but the faint hint of cherries wafting to his nose from the soft disarray of her hair was unmistakable. Kate. The fearless cop had been nervous, even shy, her muscles tense as he held her. But they'd just lain together and breathed, as the early morning sounds and flickering lights of the city drifted through the high windows of the loft. Finally, she slept. They both did. Castle had no idea what time it was, except that the sun was up. It didn't really matter. Alexis was still in France and Mother could take care of herself. He would happily have stayed just where he was all day except that he became increasingly aware of the need to pee. He waited as long as he could, before regretfully releasing his hold on Kate and starting to roll away. The room seemed to slip for a moment but stabilized before his stomach could react. Slowly, he pushed himself up and threw his legs over the side of the bed. Kate stirred slightly but didn't open her eyes. Castle entertained thoughts of doing his business as quickly as possible and climbing back into bed.
It was not to be. When Rick returned, Kate was doing her best to stretch without pulling at her incisions. "Good morning," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Kate reached out a hand to touch his flannel covered thigh. "Castle, last night was the first time since Montgomery's funeral that I've slept without hearing shots in my dreams."
"I slept better too without visions of losing you raking at my brain," Castle confided. "So maybe, we can help each other sleep on a regular basis."
"What will Martha think? And Alexis?"
"May I remind you that I'm a grown man, one who resulted from a one night stand. I don't have to worry about what my mother has to say about it. And when Alexis gets back, I can talk to her. She's always been more afraid of my being out on the streets with you than that we might be - personally involved. No snipers in the bedroom. At least I hope not."
"Have you heard from your contact?" Kate queried.
"No. But I didn't expect to. His kind doesn't give reports. Unnecessary communication endangers the mission. They just get the job done. He will let me know when it's completed - and send me a bill."
"Castle, you didn't hire him to kill someone, did you?"
"Kate, the contract is to keep us safe. The means are up to him and his operatives. If he has to take someone out in the process, I'm not sure I'd lose any sleep over it. I didn't lose a second over Montgomery shooting Lockwood and his henchmen, just over Roy getting killed in the process. It made me wish I'd kept beating on Lockwood when he tried to shoot you, even if I'd broken both hands. Would it bother you if our people take out whoever these guys are?"
Kate grabbed hold of his hand as she shook her head. "No, I guess it wouldn't, except for the man behind it all. I want to take him down myself."
Castle lightly squeezed her slender fingers. "I've no doubt you will."
After sending a coded signal to keep guns from firing the moment he entered, Castle's white-haired contact let himself into the recently leased apartment across the street from Castle's loft. "Who's been in and out?" Hammer asked his operative.
"Coupla cops," Don Shophower, known to his coworkers as 'Shop,", reported. "One of 'em snuck in from next door. Guess he thought he wouldn't be seen. The bozos in the car downstairs might have missed him. Their handler's been around coupla times too. We ran facial recognition. Ex-military, name o' Cedric Marks. Goes by Cole Maddox now. He's staying in a corporate suite downtown."
"I've heard of him. He did some black ops. Got kicked loose for enjoying administering torture a bit too much."
"Looks like he's just having Castle and Beckett watched for now," Shop offered. "halfway decent sniper could have taken a shot from the roof of this building through the bedroom window this morning. We have sensors up there and on the stairs in case anyone tries to use that vantage point, but so far nothing."
"No, I don't think there will be," Hammer agreed. "At least not yet. He's waiting to get his hands on something before he takes out Beckett and maybe Castle too. I have a friend keeping an eye on the guy who knows where it is. I want to get to it first."
"And if you can't?" Shop inquired.
"We see just how much Cedric likes being on the other end of what he likes to mete out. But for now, we just keep up the surveillance. I'll check in with you later."
"The bedroom together," Hammer thought as he descended the stairs. "That was a new development. His son was finally getting somewhere with Kate Beckett. About damn time!"
Maggie regarded her visitor. He'd changed while she was gone. The gray hair on both his head and his eyebrows had become a dark brown. Contact lenses disguised the color of his eyes. Inserts had minimized the unusually high arches in his feet. An astringent had temporarily made the lines on his face less noticeable. "If you're looking for a new line of work, you could get a job at a spa. You've lost twenty years," Maggie observed.
"Unfortunately, I can't do anything about the internal effects of the passage of years."
She held out an envelope. "Newer versions of your bills. Nothing bigger than a twenty."
He took her offering. "Thanks. I'll need that to get to Hoboken."
"The Riviera of New Jersey. What's in Hoboken besides the tubes to New York?"
"My backup office. The one I maintain in lower Manhattan has been found. The one in Hoboken was established under an identity I developed forty years ago. It wasn't in my files at my apartment. Not even the company knows about it. No way it could be leaked."
"Wise precaution," Maggie offered. "You never know where there's mole. So how are you getting there?"
"By water, as much as I can, Michael replied. "No cameras except on satellites, and if our guy does have a mole in the company, he'd have no way of knowing what to look for."
"Be safe, Michael," Maggie urged. "I have a new bread recipe I want to try out on you next time I see you."
Michael brushed her cheek with his fingertips. "I'm looking forward to it."
Maggie gave Michael some time to put some distance between himself and her cabin before she retrieved her satellite phone from its hiding place. "He's still safe, and coming your way," she reported. "Package is somewhere in Hoboken. He should be coming via the Hudson to an office at least four decades old."
"Copy that." Hammer acknowledged. "We'll try to keep eyes on him. Good job Maggie."
"Just don't you blow it, Jackson. He's a good man. He was out. He didn't need to get pulled into a mess like this."
"No one is ever really out, Maggie," Hammer reminded her. "Of all people, you should know that better than anyone."
"I do." Maggie conceded, cutting the connection. She walked the few steps to her flour canister and started a new batch of bread. She really needed to pound on something.
