Private Eyes – Chapter 20

It almost seemed surreal.

One moment they were being held hostage by a double agent, and then the next they were sitting in the luxurious backseat of a big black Escalade, being chauffeured to the federal building in downtown Manhattan. Agent Danberg, the one who had led the tact-team that had rescued them had rode ahead, to brief his superior, NCS Director Samson York, from what Kate had gathered, the man who had recruited Castle for the CIA.

Castle was quiet during the ride, his face a mask, stoic, like he was preparing for some hardship. He had stayed at Martha's loft long enough to ensure his mother was seen to by paramedics, and ensure that a protective detail was assigned to Alexis. The young teen had wanted to come with them, but Castle had told her to go with her grandmother to the hospital. Alexis had reluctantly agreed, making him promise to call her immediately once things had been settled.

Kate could tell that he was still somewhat shaken by the depth of Sophia Turner's betrayal. Sophia's motives baffled him. She had not known him for that long, but from what little she did know, Kate knew that Castle was very loyal to the people in his life. And, for better or worse, Sophia had been a big part of his life. She thought that perhaps, even though he had known the truth, hearing it confirmed by Sophia herself had just overwhelmed him, made him question is own judgments and perceptions.

Kate knew enough about Castle that she could tell that he was blaming himself for what had happened in the loft. "I got cocky and overconfident," he had said. "I'd just thought that what… that it had been real, not some part of her schemes. Perhaps I've lost my edge. Maybe it's time for me to step aside and rethink my life." Kate didn't know how to respond to such statement from a man like Rick Castle. In many ways he was still an enigma, a mystery she had yet to solve.

But she wanted to, with every fiber of her being, Kate Beckett wanted to, for the rest of her life if she had to.

"We're here," the driver announced, and the door was opened for her. She stretched her legs and climbed out of the backseat. Castle scooted out behind her, standing beside her on the sidewalk before the tall façade of the federal building, the glass windows glistening in the mid-morning sunlight. He slowly slipped his hand down her arm, until he could interlock their fingers. He held her hand tightly, and together, they followed a waiting agent inside.

Agent Jones greeted them in the lobby, and took them the rest of the way. They rode the elevator in silence. Kate was uncertain how she was supposed to feel. There was a small bit of awkwardness to this all. Castle stood tense beside her, as if he knew something she didn't, and was holding back. She wanted to ask him, to have an actual conversation before they were debriefed by the CIA, but she hadn't found the time to do so, as much of the focus before had been on getting Martha safely out of the loft and to the hospital. And now it didn't feel right to have such a conversation with the expressionless Agent Jones as their audience.

An electronic beep announced their arrival and the elevator doors slid open, revealing Agent Martin Danberg. He gestured them into the hallway, sticking out a hand to shake Kate's.

"We never got a chance to meet properly," he said. "Martin Danberg."

"Kate Beckett," she returned the introduction, glancing at Castle, trying to gauge his reaction to the senior agent. Still nothing. She knew she hadn't known Castle for long, but she had thought she would have a better read on him after last night.

Danberg nodded. "If you come with me, Detective," he gestured down the hall towards a door marked 1B.

She followed his lead, but stopped when she noticed that Castle was no longer beside her. She looked back, seeing him talking with Agent Jones.

"Castle?"

He turned when he heard his name and their eyes locked. There was a sorrowfulness about him, a heavy cloud that hung above him, making his shoulders slump and his face fall. Oh. He wasn't coming with her. She swallowed her disappointment. It made sense, though. She should have known that they were to be debriefed separately. She would do that same if she were in Danberg's place.

Castle closed the distance between them, cupping her jaw in his large warm hand. "Don't worry, Kate," he reassured. "It's just procedure. Just tell them the truth." His lips quirked up into a tiny smile. "The truth conquers all."

Kate nodded, glancing back up at him with a small sad smile. "That's what my mom always said."

"Then she was a wise woman."

She bobbed her head, closing her eyes as she leaned into Castle's embrace, the grief still too close, even after all these years. Castle gently caressed her jaw, tipping her chin up until she was looking up at him once again. He gazed into her eyes with such emotion that it made Kate's heart pound profoundly beneath chest. As a little girl—even as a teen—she had hoped and dreamed that one day she would meet a mine that would look upon her with the same reverence and devotion that her father had when he gazed lovingly at her mother. When her mom had died, Kate had given up on such a dream. So it was hard to contain her surprise that she now had that long lost dream.

"I'll see you soon," Castle murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, filled with hope and promise… and love. Yes, love. She could finally admit it to herself, if not yet out loud. She returned the sentiment, resting her hand above his beating heart, both comforted and overwhelmed by the steady thump. Kate titled her head up one more time, kissing him again, before she pulled back, ready for her interview.

Kate turned and walked back towards Agent Danberg, who was standing patiently down the hall. His gaze strayed behind her towards Castle, and the two exchanged looks. Exactly what was said in that look was a mystery to her. She didn't know the full extent of their past, but it was clear that the two had worked together before and had become friends, of a sort. Kate still wasn't certain on whether or not Danberg had been working with Castle, or if their little exchange back at the loft had been one of relief and gratitude. Whatever it was, it was clear that the two held a mutual respect for one another.

She had just about caught up with Danberg when the agent turned his attention back to her. "Right this way, Detective," he gestured towards an unmarked door along the right hand side of the hallway.

XXX

Castle watched as Beckett disappeared down the hallway with Danberg leading her off to an interview room. His gut was twisted into a tight coil of guilt. He had just lied to her, and it killed him to do so, but it was necessary. He didn't know when he'd see her again, but he knew it wouldn't be anytime soon. Sophia Turner had obviously been discovered, but even with that, he knew he was still going to have to answer for his actions. The Director would be feeling pressure from not only other agencies involved in Spyglass, but also the President. Someone was going to have to pay the price, and it would probably fall on him now that Sophia was dead.

Breathing in deeply, Castle tried to prepare himself for the meeting to come. When the clench in his stomach eased just enough to be ignored, he turned and nodded to Agent Jones. The man gestured for him to follow, and they walked down the hall, in the opposite direction that Beckett and Danberg had gone. Jones opened an unmarked door and Castle stepped inside without hesitation.

And there he was, standing tall and unmoving, hands in his pockets, as he stared through the two-way mirror at the interrogation room beyond. Samson York, the man who'd visited a young and depressed Richard Rodgers with an offer that was too good to let pass by. The room was dark, saved for the dim lights overhead. His shaved crown shined in the low light. Castle blinked once, and crossed the threshold. Agent Jones closed the door behind him.

"Sir," Castle greeted, back stiff, formal. He really did not know what to expect from his boss.

There was a brief pause as Samson York mulled over his words.

"You've put me in a pretty tough spot, Rick," York said, his gaze remaining fixated on the room beyond the two-way mirror where two agents were interrogating a shifty looking man with sandy-brown hair.

Castle thought he recognized him, but he couldn't quite place his face. He squinted, stepping further into the room, coming up along side his mentor. "Who are the suits?" he asked, referring to the two interrogators. It was an attempt to break the ice and cut through the awkward tension that had filled the room. It was always difficult to get a read on York. The man had been in the business for a long time, and was a master interrogator. He was an imposing and intimidating force at Langley. Not many people were willing to cross him, and that included the Director.

"Justice Department," York answered, casual and uncaring, as if it was of little importance. "They are here at the insistence of that prissy little Attorney General."

Castle couldn't help but grin at that. Through his years with the Agency, Samson York had seen many administrations come and go. Each of them, in his opinion, inexperienced and unqualified for the job. York despised dealing with them, because in his view, politicians were all just temps, transitory… none of them ever stuck around long enough to face the consequences of some of their decisions.

Castle looked at the woman first—a stern, serious face, with dark curly hair. Her partner wore a similar dour expression. Despite that, they both seemed to be quite good at their jobs. Shifty, with the familiar face, was close to breaking. It wouldn't take too much longer before he did. Castle was certain these agents could do it. Turning his gaze away from the interrogation room, he gave his boss a sidelong glance.

"So what are you going to do?" he asked, steering the conversation back to their original topic.

York pursed his lips and tilted his head to meet Castle's gaze. "Difficult to say," he admitted. "It is easy with Detective Beckett. She's got a solid record. She's a good cop, a fine officer. We'll have her sign a nondisclosure agreement and send her on her way."

"Is that your way of telling me I'm not allowed to see her again?" Castle asked, trying hard to suppress the longing in his voice. It hadn't been long, but he truly did develop genuine feelings for Kate Beckett. If York ordered him not to see her again, Castle didn't know if he could obey.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, Rick," York shook his head. "I may be an ornery son-of-a-bitch a times, but I'm still human… However," he paused, giving Castle a subtle look, "things aren't that easy. The fact of the matter is, despite how noble and right your intentions were… you still went rogue, and very nearly caused an international incident. You absconded with CIA property, and revealed classified information to not one, but two civilians. And that's not even mentioning the mess you made at Detective Beckett's apartment. But yes, to answer your question, that was my way for telling you that you can't see her again… at least for the time being. And I think you knew that."

Castle inclined his head. "Yeah, I did. Hurts like hell though."

"I know, Rick," York said, actually showing some uncharacteristic sympathy as he reached out and patted his shoulder. "I know. I feel for you, Rick. I truly do. But who knows, maybe it's for the best. Right now things are just complicated for you."

"Aren't they always," Castle grinned cockily, seeing if a joke could crack York's impenetrable façade.

It worked. The man's lips tugged upwards ever so slightly. "That they are, Rick," he said. "But you always pull through. It's what makes you one of my best agents. However, you got a bit overconfident on this one. You put, not only your own life, but the lives of Miss Harper, Mrs. Rodgers, and Detective Beckett in danger."

"I'd like to point out that they would never have been in danger if we hadn't had a viper in our midst," Castle interjected.

"I'll grant you that," York conceded. "Seeing as you helped uncover a traitor, the Director is willing to overlook your indiscretions."

"So the ends justify the means?"

"In this case… yes," York inclined his head. "But don't get used to it, Rick. This is a one time thing."

"Yes, sir," Castle nodded, relieved. Though he understood just how easily things could have gone the other way. He had a strong suspicion that the Director's leniency was thanks in large part to York… or perhaps his father.

Sophia had mentioned his father. But before he could ask York, the bald man was moving away from the two-way mirror and stepping over to the console station along the sidewall. His hand hovered over a stack of folders before he selected one and handed it to Castle.

"After I took over the case, I did some digging into Detective Beckett. Did you know she was married?"
"What? No," Castle raised his eyebrows in surprise, quickly opening the file to take a look. "No, she didn't say."

"Probably doesn't remember it," York said with a disapproving shake of his head. "1997, Drive-Through Chapel of Love."

"Vegas?"

York nodded in confirmation. "The information is all there."

"And she's still married to the guy?"

"It would seem so," York said. "I had Agent Riley run a background check on him. Rogan O'Leary. Fucking idiot, if you ask me. He has a long rap sheet, mostly petty crime, minor cons, nothing major. But he was caught impersonating a FBI agent once. Did some time for that."

"I would think so," Castle agreed, brow furrowing as he looked over the information in the file. He looked at O'Leary's photo. The guy looked like an idiot. What did Beckett ever see in him? He glanced up at York. "Why are you telling me this?"
York clucked his tongue in disappointment. "Come now, Rick, what did I teach you?" he asked. "It always pays to be well-informed." He paused. "You care about this woman, yes? So I thought it was only right that you should have all the information before getting in too deep." York looked back through the two-way mirror as the two Justice Department agents continued to interrogate the sandy-haired man. "Have you slept with her?" he asked as if it was a casual question.

Castle's jaw dropped, shocked. York had always been one of those bosses that never inquired about his personal life. "I… I don't think that's any of your business, sir," Castle asserted, closing the file on principle and putting it back on the table. He didn't want to learn anything about Kate that she wasn't willing to tell him. He had gained her trust and he wasn't wiling to risk that.

York gave him a sidelong glance. "When it involves a case crucial to national security, I think it does," he said, stern and reproachful. "Rick, I can only protect you so much. The Director may be willing to let you off the hook, but he's still pissed as hell, and quite frankly so am I. He, as well as the President, want to know how we allowed a double agent into our midst."

It dawned on him then. He finally understood the interest in his relationship with Kate Beckett. "Is this because Sophia and I…?" He left the rest unsaid.

York gave a noncommittal shrug. "It has brought up some concerns, yes. The Director wants to know if you've been compromised, that you can be trusted to do your job."

"I haven't… and I can," Castle asserted defensively, feeling some indignation at his loyalty being questioned. "I would like to point out that I did my job, sir. I protected the asset from a credible threat, one—I might add—none one else saw."

"That you did," York agreed with a nod. "And that won't be forgotten. But dammit… Rick, when were you going to tell me that Alexis Harper was your daughter?"

"I didn't know until just over a month ago," he admitted. "I was just skimming her file, you know, to learn as much as I could about my protectee, when I noticed her biological mother was Meredith Cooper. I doubled checked her birthdate, and I did the math. It wasn't too difficult to realize when she was conceived."

"Still, how could you be sure she was yours?" York questioned. "Your name isn't on the birth certificate. And we looked into her mother before we took her in. Meredith Cooper wasn't all that faithful to—"

"Don't you think I know that," Castle said through gritted teeth, carding his fingers through his hair. "It was one of the reasons why I ended things when I did." He closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath. "You've seen her picture, sir. Tell me she's not mine."

"I'll grant you that, not so much the hair, but the eyes… yes," York said as he looked directly into Castle's. "The eyes are all yours."

"I'm no fool, sir," Castle continued, knowing he was being mildly patronized. "I had to make sure. So, I had an old buddy run a DNA comparison, off the books. When it came back as a paternal match, I knew what I had to do."

"All right," York inclined his head, relenting. "I'll see what I can do to smooth things over with the Director on that front." He wagged a finger at Castle. "You're lucky I like you, Rick, otherwise I wouldn't balk at tossing your ass to the wolves."

Castle cracked a smile. "Thanks, sir." He paused. "I have one favor though."

"Only one?" York chuckled. "I'm assuming this is about Detective Beckett?"
"No," he shook his head, though the mention of her name again brought back some of the guilt over how he was about to abandon her. It wasn't by choice. And he hoped that someday she'd know that and forgive him. But right now, there were much larger things to worry about besides his love life. Using his training, he compartmentalized his feelings for Beckett, and hid them away where they couldn't interfere. "I already know you're not going to hold her. It's about Alexis."

"What about her?"

"I want the CIA to leave her alone."

"I'm not too sure you're in a position to dictate terms, Rick, especially after all we've already forgiven," York gave him a disapproving stare. "The CIA has spent considerable expense on Operation Mockingbird. With a mind like hers, Alexis Harper still has much to offer."

"That may be so," Castle conceded, "but she should be allowed to share that gift out in the open, not hidden away in the shadows. You have Spyglass, let her go."

"And if we don't?"

"Then you'll have me as an enemy. And you know how difficult I can make things."

York considered him for a moment. "Right," he grunted. "I'll see what I can do. I make no promises, though."

"That's all I ask," Castle said.

"For now, she can stay with her grandmother."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet, Rick," York chuckled. "I still have to convince the Director."

"I have every faith in you, sir," Castle assured.

York pursed his lips and squinted his eyes as he stared back into the interrogation room. Castle followed his mentor's gaze. It looked like the Justice Department agents had finished up with their suspect. The man was exiting the room while the woman wrapped up things.

"Who is it that they're interrogating?" he asked, unable to suppress his natural curiosity.

"Johann Kriedt," came a deep voice from behind him. Castle blinked, but managed to hide his astonishment as he turned, spying a tall lean man with white hair stepping out of the shadows. He was surprised. If this man had been able to stay unseen throughout his conversation with York, then he must be highly skilled… even more so than Castle himself, and ego aside, he was one of the best. So it was a little unnerving to discover that they'd had an audience. "Rick Castle, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard nothing but good things," the man said, extending his hand. Castle took it, noting the firm grip. "I'm Jackson Hunt."

"An alias?"

The man's mouth quirked up in a charismatic smirk. "What else is new in our line of work, eh, son?" Hunt said with a wink.

"Point taken," Castle returned the smile, before turning back around to stare at the sandy-haired man, now in the process of spilling his secrets. "Johann Kriedt, you say? The arms-dealer? Haven't we been searching for him for over five years?"

York nodded. "Ten and a half to be precise," he said. "He's been a slippery bastard. He managed to hide his face for years. But we got lucky. Langley flagged one of his known aliases on a flight from London to New York earlier this week. We passed on the information to our fellow agencies, and the AG assigned the case to a special task force. Agents Stack and McCord were able to locate Kriedt without too much trouble. We would have found him, but we were too busy looking for you." York grinned, and Castle smiled back, recognizing the signs that he was back in his boss's good graces.

"Turns out Kriedt had a thing for S&M," Jackson Hunt supplied in his smooth voice. "They tracked him to a dungeon operated by a lovely lady by the name of Irena."

"What was he doing in New York?" Castle inquired, his brow furrowing into a frown.

"I think we're about to find out," Hunt noted.

Just then a knock came from the door, before it opened and the two agents—Stack and McCord—who had been interrogating Kriedt stepped in. York raised an eyebrow in question, as he looked at the pair.

"Well? Why did Kriedt risk exposure after years of keeping off the grid?"

"He was here to meet with someone claiming to have possession of top-secret U.S. Intelligence hardware," Stack said.

"Spyglass?" Hunt asked.

McCord turned to look at the older man. She narrowed her eyes as she nodded. "Yeah, that's what he said," she confirmed, before shifting her gaze back to York. "You care to fill us in, sir?"

"Need to know," the bald man smirked. "I think you'd appreciate the irony of hearing those words."

McCord shrugged indifferently, apparently used to the fact she was never given the whole picture. Stack was unfazed by it as well. Castle shook his head. Agents like these annoyed him. They did their jobs well, true, but they weren't willing to question things, examine the finer details and see the bigger picture. They were fine with doing what they were told. It was a symptom of a much larger problem within the intelligence community, at least in his opinion. If he had simply done as they had, Alexis would most likely be in the hands of some Russian oligarch or worse… dead.

"Anything else, Agent McCord?" York inquired.

"Yes," she hedged, looking wary, her blue eyes darting back and forth between the three of them. "He also mentioned an intermediary, a middleman between him and the seller."

"Who?"

"The Knave," McCord answered, looking serious. "He said he was called The Knave."

Castle's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. He exchanged looks with York, who was gazing at him knowingly. "I think we just found your next assignment, Rick."

XXX

"All right, I think that about clears it all up," Danberg said, flashing her a reassuring smile as he packed up the thick file he'd been skimming through, off and on, during their entire interview. Kate had been a little startled when she'd seen the size of the file that the CIA had on her. She wondered what they could have on her that would require such a large stack of files.

"So… that's it?" she asked, her nose wrinkling in confusion. They had barely discussed any thing other than the incident with Sophia Turner at the loft.

"Yep," Danberg said, flashing her another smile as he finished up putting the files away into the folder. "That about covers all of it." He closed the folder and slid a form across the table. "I'll just need you to sign this and then you're free to go."

"What's this?"

"A nondisclosure agreement," he said. "Just a formality. You know, you're guarantee that you won't discuss anything you've learned, been told, or seen relating to classified material with anyone."

"Oh," she nodded, and took the pen he offered. She skimmed through the document, unwilling to just sign it without giving it a read. Her parents had been lawyers after all. Danberg waited patiently, and smiled politely when she handed the document back, signed. "Now what?"

Danberg slipped the nondisclosure agreement into the folder, and stood up. "Now… you're free to go," he said. He walked towards the door; the thick folder tucked under one arm. "I'll send someone to see you out."

"Wait… what about Castle?"

Danberg looked at her with a bemused expression that slowly morphed into understanding, with a touch of sympathy. "He didn't tell you, did he?"
"Tell me what?" Kate asked, feeling an unexpected fear and panic rise up in her chest.

Danberg hesitated for a moment, knitting his eyebrows together. "You won't be seeing him again, at least for the time being," he said as diplomatically as possible.

"What do you mean by that?" Kate demanded. She didn't understand. Castle had promised her. Out in the hallway, he'd caressed her face with loving care, and told her that she would see him soon. Had he been lying?

"Just that," Danberg gazed at her with what looked like pity. "I'm sorry, Detective Beckett. I thought you knew. Though he thwarted a traitor and mole, he still went rogue. And there are consequences to that."

Kate merely stood there, mouth agape, speechless. Danberg gave her one more sympathetic look, before ducking out of the interrogation room. Kate staggered back and plopped down into the chair. She put her elbows on the flat surface of the table and rested her forehead in her palms. How had she been so blind? Had she actually thought they'd get to walk off into the sunset, hand in hand, and have their romance? They had never really had time to define what they were… if they were anything at all. Was it just an attraction? Perhaps Sophia had been right. Maybe he'd just been interested in sex and she was the most readily available woman to have a quick romp with. But that's just it; they never got the chance to have a romp or anything of the like.

She felt sick to her stomach.

God… she wished she'd never met Rick Castle, at least then she wouldn't feel this gnawing pain, like her heart had been spooned out of her chest.

She was being stupid, Kate knew that. There were more important things going on than her love life and her feelings for Castle. And how the two of those things went together. He'd gone rogue. And despite the end result, of course there were going to be consequences. Kate understood that. She was still astonished that she was being let go with little more than a slap on the rest, and a 'don't tell anyone about this' warning. It only made sense that Castle's punishment would be more severe than hers.

She wiped furiously at the tears stinging her eyes, refusing to cry. She wasn't going to cry. Kate sighed and brushed her hair away from her face, leaning back in the chair as she let the past few days wash over her. Her jaw clenched and she closed her eyes, allowing herself to relive some of the more happy moments of the last few days. Images of Castle sprung to mind, his warm smile and soft gaze, his touch… the way he held her, the way he kissed her, like she was the most precious thing on this Earth. Kate suddenly recalled something he had said last night as they'd cuddled together on the sofa.

"I trust you, Kate Beckett," he had said, tugging her hand over his heart, so they she could feel the steady rhythm of each beat. "And Mile Zero starts here."

It had been silly. She didn't even know how they had got on the subject, but she had unloaded on him about some of her past failures in relationships. Travel and distance had been killers. Castle had asked her if she knew about the Hundred Mile Rule, the one that said you could do whatever—meaning whoever—you wanted if you were more than a hundred miles away. It was sort of a variation on the 'What Happens in Vegas' Rule.

At the time, she had laughed at it, thinking he was making a joke. But now… now she understood. He was trying to tell her in his own subtle way that he would have to leave once the mission was over, but that the feelings he had for her weren't transitory or of the moment. In his own way, Castle had been defining their relationship.

Kate heaved in a deep breath, her pulse quickening as she finally understood what he had been trying to tell her. That though he may be gone for some time, this wasn't the end. Not really.

This was only the beginning.