House of Cards
Summary: What if the events that Castle remembered in Sleeper were a lie? What really happened to him during the 2 months he was missing? And what are the consequences now? SPOILER WARNING – This story will go into season 8, and at this point, it's definitely, totally AU.
AN: All I can say is "Spiders – yuuch." The only thing that would have been grosser was if they had used those big tree roaches. No, they won't kill you, but they are just nasty. Thanks again for the follows, favs, and reviews. They really mean a lot. Rated high T for language.
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Chapter 13 Passion, Greed, Politics
"Murder usually makes a great deal of sense. Passion, greed, politics."
Richard Castle, Flowers for Her Grave
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Castle groaned and tried to reach a hand up to his throbbing head, but found that he couldn't. The effort drained him enough that he quit trying as he coughed against the dry fuzz in his mouth.
He had one hell of a hangover but didn't remember drinking that much last night when they celebrated Beckett's promotion to Captain.
They definitely weren't teetotalers and had a glass of wine with dinner a few nights a week if they made it home at a decent time. On vacation, they might imbibe a little more, but never to the point that their thinking was impaired. Beckett had lived with the consequences of that too often when her father turned to the bottle after her mother died.
Castle groaned again as he tried to open his eyes that seemed to be glued shut – definitely blood shot, he thought feeling the grit. The last time he felt like this was after Ryan's impromptu bachelor party in Atlantic City, not toilet-hugging sick, but definitely head pounding.
When he finally managed to pry his eyes open, he looked around the room, squinting against the bright lights that made his head hurt worse. How had he gotten here and where exactly was here? And why did it smell like a distillery?
He squeezed his eyes closed as he tried to remember. They had been at a crime scene – Golovkin had died and then Harlan Ellison had shown up. Yes, he had gone with Harlan to help identify some people.
But what had happened after that? Had they been in a wreck?
He opened his eyes again as he heard a groan coming from his left and swiveled his head in that direction to see a man lying on a gurney.
"Harlan," Castle called, trying to get the man's attention. "Harlan!"
The man on the gurney groaned again and rolled his head towards the sound.
"Demming?" Castle asked, lifting his head up slightly to get a better look. That's definitely not whom he expected to see.
"Demming!" Castle hissed again.
The detective groaned and opened matching bleary eyes. "Cassle?" he slurred.
"Demming, are you drunk?" Castle asked.
The detective had to think for a moment before answering tentatively, "Yeah, thin' so. Some party, huh?"
Castle was about to say something else when the door opened and a slim woman with long red hair walked in, her face covered by a surgical mask.
Castle felt his pulse speed up as the fight-or-flight instinct kicked in. Neiman was dead – Beckett had done that to survive the harrowing ordeal the insane couple had put her through. But how could Neiman be here? Or was he hallucinating?
The woman walked over to where Demming lay and raised the head of the bed slightly. "Tom Demming," she said in a loud voice, tapping him on the face. "Demming! Wake up!"
Castle relaxed slightly; based on the voice, the woman definitely wasn't Neiman.
As Demming stirred, she unscrewed the top of a bottle on the table next to him and opened his mouth slightly. "Here you go – now be a good boy and drink up."
Demming sputtered as she slowly poured the liquor in his mouth, part of it running down his chin and the side of his face.
"Almost done," the woman said as she stroked his throat so he would swallow.
Finally satisfied with the amount consumed, the woman put the bottle back down.
As she was taking a sample of his blood, the door opened and Ellison walked in.
"Ellison, what the hell?" demanded Castle. "What's going on? Where am I?"
The man regarded him for a moment. "I'm not sure which story I believe more – that you brought in a former Al-Qaeda agent and helped saved the world, or that you just saved 1 person who apparently is your father."
Castle frowned, shaking his head. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Ellison shook his head in response. "And that's the irony of the situation. You probably don't. They saw to that." He looked over at the woman. "How's he doing?"
"We're almost there. He's at .15%," she said.
"Good," Ellison replied and then looked back at Castle. "And as for you…" he said, grabbing the front of Castle's shirt and ripping it open, the buttons clattering to the floor.
"Hey, this is one of my favorite shirts," Castle said indignantly.
Ellison was silent as he examined the scar on Castle's side with cold fingers. "So what do you think?" he asked the woman who had walked over.
"It's possible," she said, also fingering the scar. "Some of the doctors in Canada are using a smaller incision."
"They put something inside me?" asked Castle, alarmed.
Ellison shook his head. "No, more like they took something out of you – part of your liver."
"But why would they do that?" Castle demanded in disbelief.
"Because your father had the gall to not die when I had him poisoned," Ellison replied simply.
Castle stared at the man, clearly confused. "But why would you do that? Aren't you on the same team?"
"Politics," Ellison said, shrugging. "Let's just say we had a disagreement about policy. As for you, you're in the way once again."
The woman looked at Ellison. "Are you sure it wouldn't be simpler just to sell him to the Russians? I believe the last bid was $5 million, US dollars."
Ellison regarded Castle coldly and shook his head. "No, he'd probably just beat them at poker and charm them with stories. I want this problem put to rest once and for all."
"Hey, I'm right here – I can hear you," Castle exclaimed.
Ellison looked at the woman. "Call me when you're ready. I don't want any more screw-ups, so I'll handle this myself."
He then walked out of the room as Castle looked around desperately for the means to save himself and Demming.
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Beckett could only stare at Martha. "But why would he do that and then stay away for several months?" she asked finally.
Martha fixed her with a look. "Katherine, dear, this is Richard. I can count the times that he really thought something through before doing it on one hand."
Beckett shook her head. "But when he was found, the doctors ran tests. They would have found something then, wouldn't they?"
Martha took a breath. "From what I've read, it takes about 2 months for a liver to grow back, which is the amount of time Richard was missing. And the test results were skewed because he was severely dehydrated, so they may not have found anything."
Beckett looked at Martha in surprise as Danberg's phone chirped.
He quickly answered. "Delia, I've got you on speaker. What did you find?"
"Yes, there was a definite connection between Dr. Ivan Yuri and Richard Castle. They met while Castle was shadowing the CIA. And in one of Dr. Yuri's research papers, he credits Castle with 'putting him on the right track'."
"On the right track of what?" Beckett asked.
There was a pause. "That was in Dr. Yuri's paper on ionospheric enhancement technology. Ah, sir, perhaps, you want to take me off of speaker?"
Danberg did as she suggested and listened for a few minutes without interrupting. "Really? The Maldives?" he said finally. "Yes, keep following the trail."
He then looked at the group who was watching him impatiently. "We've uncovered evidence that Ellison has a very lucrative side business selling disruptive technology devices on the black market."
"Disruptive technology?" asked Espo.
Danberg nodded. "Devices used to disrupt communications – satellites, cell phones, police scanners, things like that."
"What has that got to do with the Maldives and Castle?" Beckett asked warily.
"Those devices are manufactured in a factory in southern India and one of the consultants to the factory lives in the Maldives," Danberg replied. "He has a different identity, but it's definitely Dr. Ivan Yuri."
He took a breath. "Delia spoke to Dr. Yuri who remembers Castle and was wondering if he was getting the royalty checks from the factory."
Beckett shook her head. "Castle's never said anything about that and we were supposed to go to the Maldives on our honeymoon."
She began putting the pieces of the puzzle together. "Someone's hiding something and didn't want them to meet."
Danberg nodded. "Probably Ellison."
"What has Castle got to do with that?" asked Ryan.
"Because the device being marketed is based on one of Castle's idea. He used it in his book Tropical Storm," Danberg replied.
"But Castle never published that book," Beckett said, looking at Danberg. "He said it wasn't any good."
"The story was a little far-fetched if you ask me, but the science was solid," Danberg replied.
Beckett paused for a moment. "You read Tropical Storm?"
Danberg nodded. "Yes. We monitor all of Castle's writings. He's been very careful so far, but you never know what seemingly nothing will slip out that will cause problems."
Beckett frowned again. Castle never mentioned that either, but he may not know they were doing that.
"What about Ellison?" Beckett asked. "Castle went with him because he didn't know Ellison wasn't with the CIA any more. Can you track him? Find out where they've gone?"
"Apparently he cleaned out his house several days ago and closed his bank accounts. We've got facial recognition running and we're monitoring using other methods, but we haven't had any hits yet," Danberg said.
"What about these?" Beckett asked, picking up the two pest control orders and handing them to Danberg. "They were on the memory card. They aren't pest control orders, are they?"
Danberg pursed his lips. "No, they're not," he acknowledged.
He was about to knock on the glass again when an agent carrying an evidence box walked up to the door.
"Sir, I think you should see this," he said, putting the box on Beckett's desk. "Demming wasn't home and his place had been trashed. We found these scattered on the floor."
Danberg nodded and pulled on a pair of disposable gloves before looking into the box. It contained pictures of Castle and a woman, and one of Castle's books.
"Do you know her?" Danberg asked Beckett as he picked up a picture and showed it to her.
Beckett nodded. "That's Gina, Castle's ex-wife."
"And that's the Hamptons," Martha said as she looked at the picture. "These were taken a couple of years ago when they were there during the summer."
"But why would Demming have pictures of Castle and his ex?" Ryan asked as the team looked at the pictures.
Danberg picked up the book and opened the cover. "Captain Beckett, this belongs to you," he said, looking at her. "Do you and Demming know each other?"
Beckett nodded slightly. "We dated several years ago. I must have left it at his place."
"It was a bad break-up, I take it?" Danberg asked as he leafed through the book.
"No, I didn't think so," said Beckett, shaking her head.
"Really? You didn't break up with him for Castle? Then why would he write this?" Danberg asked as he flipped the book around to show her what Demming had scrawled on the pages.
Beckett almost dropped the book as she grabbed it from Danberg and stared at the pages covered with 'Kate, I love you,' 'Castle, you asshole,' 'Cheating scumbag,' 'You don't deserve her,' 'You'll suffer for what you've done,' and 'I'll kill you.'
She flipped the book over to the back cover and gasped when she saw that Demming had drawn devil horns and a Van Dyke on Castle's face.
"Definitely not a fan," remarked Danberg.
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