Somewhere…
Alexis Castle blinked the sleep out of her eyes, gingerly sitting up on the mattress. Her surroundings were dark, save the light bulb hanging off the low ceiling. Shaking her head, the teenager glanced to her right, her breath catching in her throat when she saw the other teenage girl unconscious.
"Sara?"
Alexis got no response, but she saw the other girl's shoulders rising and falling in a smooth rhythm. Okay, at least she was alive. The redhead forced herself to stand, relieved that nothing jolted with pain. A heavy door was closed on the other side of the room, and without even inspecting it, Alexis could tell it was locked.
"Sara?" Alexis dropped onto the mattress again, placing a gentle hand on the other girl's shoulder. "Sara, wake up!"
With a groan of protest, Sara did just that, lifting her head off the mattress and staring at Alexis through hooded eyes. She blinked and cringed before forcing herself to sit up and truly take in her surroundings.
"Where are we?" Panic flashed in Sara's eyes. "What happened?"
"I don't know, I…" Alexis shook her head. "I think we were taken."
"Oh, God…" Sara shook her head, curling up against herself and wrapping her arms around her legs. "Oh, God…my parents tried to warn me. They tried to tell me things like this were possible, but I didn't listen."
Alexis frowned. "Sara?"
"My father is a billionaire and a political heavyweight back in Saudi Arabia." Sara rubbed her temples. "When I enrolled in the program at Columbia, they hired a bodyguard for me, despite my begging them not to."
"Hey, it's gonna be okay." Even as she uttered the words, Alexis wasn't sure she believed them. "My mom works with the police. If we're still in New York, they'll find us soon enough, and then they'll track down whoever took us." The redhead flashed a hopeful smile. "Detective Beckett's not quite Liam Neeson, but she's the next best thing."
"We're going to die." Sara's lower lip started quivering. "We're going to die and it's all my fault!"
"Hey." Alexis grabbed Sara by the shoulders. "This is not your fault, okay?"
The sound of footsteps approaching interrupted Alexis' pep talk, and both she and Sara fell silent, training their ears toward the door on the opposite end of the room. The footsteps stopped, before the door was pried open and the resulting squeak echoed in the spartan room. Alexis and Sara huddled up against each other.
Though the man entering the room was still mostly bathed in shadow, Alexis could see that he was tall, with broad shoulders and arms that looked like they had been chiseled from stone or granite. The black man was immaculately dressed in a tan suit with matching tie, and when his face finally emerged from the shadows, the earring on his left ear was almost blinding.
"Good evening, ladies." His voice was low, smooth. He almost sounded like Barry White – if Barry White were a well-dressed psychopath who made a habit of kidnapping teenage girls. "I trust you find your accommodations…most comfortable."
Alexis couldn't keep from shaking. "Who are you? What do you want with us?"
The towering man smiled, and for the first time, Alexis noticed the flecks of gray in his hair. "You'll find out soon enough, Ms. Castle."
The loft…
Ricki Castle couldn't stop pacing. If she stopped moving, if she sat down and let everything register, she feared she would fly off the handle, do or say something she would ultimately regret. Her hands shook, her eyes were red and burning with unshed tears. Kate sat at Ricki's desk, watching her girlfriend trying desperately to hold everything together.
But to be honest, Kate was having a hard time keeping it together herself. She hated seeing Ricki this way, in this much pain. It reminded the detective of when she had been in the hospital, recovering from a sniper shot to the heart.
No, this was worse. This was Ricki's only daughter.
Ricki tried to ignore the FBI agents that had descended upon her loft, commandeering the landline phones and setting up a mobile task force on the chance that Alexis' kidnappers would call wanting a ransom.
Whatever it was, Ricki would pay it. Anything to get her Alexis back.
A square-jawed man in a three-piece suit walked into Ricki's office. In any other circumstance, Ricki would've made a Captain America joke – because honestly, that chin – but given the situation, the writer kept the snark to herself.
"Ms. Castle." The man held out his right hand. "I'm Special Agent Will Sorenson with the FBI. I specialize in missing persons cases – especially those involving children."
Ricki shook Sorenson's hand, choosing – for the moment – to ignore the glance he exchanged with Kate. "Please tell me you can get my daughter back."
"The only thing I can promise, Ms. Castle, is that we will do everything we can to make that happen." Sorenson gave Ricki an almost imperceptible squeeze of the hand, determination in his eyes. "But in order to do that, you need to do exactly as we say. Understand?"
Ricki nodded, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves.
"Now…we're operating under the assumption that Sara El-Masri was the target, and Alexis was taken as well, either as a matter of convenience or because she saw the captors and they considered her a liability." Sorenson glanced over Ricki's shoulder at Kate.
Kate nodded. "Either way, it's safe to assume that both girls are still alive. I'd even go so far as to say they're relatively unharmed."
"But what do the captors want?" Ricki shook her head. "Money?"
"Well, you are rich, Castle."
"With all due respect to Ms. Castle…" Sorenson shook his head. "The El-Masris are wealthier than some entire countries. If there's a ransom, they'll be the ones asked to pay it."
"And then Sara and Alexis go free."
Sorenson shrugged. "That's our hope."
Ricki approached Sorenson, her eyes narrowed and her hands curling into fists. "Your hope? That's all you've got, Sorenson? Hope?" The writer felt Kate's steadying hand on her shoulder, but Ricki was frayed with emotion. "How do you know they won't release Sara and just kill Alexis? What assurances do you have that my daughter will be okay?!"
In a moment like this, Ricki was glad Martha had her own place, her own life outside of the loft. There was no sense in wrangling her into all of this, particularly given her reservations about Ricki and Kate's relationship on numerous fronts.
The last thing Ricki needed was an I told you so.
"Castle…"
"To be frank, Ms. Castle, we don't have that assurance. But playing worst-case-scenario won't get us anywhere." Sorenson's eyes flicked downward, and when they looked at the writer again, there was an earnestness, a genuine need to help. "Until I see proof otherwise, I'm operating under the assumption that both girls are alive, safe, and in the event of a ransom demand, they will be both be released."
"Whatever they want." Ricki squeezed her eyes shut, her body tense against Kate's touch. "I'll pay it. If it means my little pumpkin walks through that door again, I'll pay whatever it takes."
Sorenson nodded and walked out of Ricki's office. "We'll keep that in mind."
No sooner did Sorenson leave the office, Kate approached Ricki from the front and wrapped her in a tight, desperate hug, resting her head against the writer's shoulder. Ricki's arms wrapped tightly around the detective, and her shoulders slumped, her eyes falling shut and the tear starting to fall.
Kate squeezed Ricki as hard as she could, fighting back tears of her own. "We'll get her back…"
"I wish I felt that confident…"
"Hey." Kate brushed a hand over Ricki's face, kissing her softly. "Everything we've endured already, and we've always come out the other side better for it. You hear me, Castle?"
The writer nodded and sniffled.
Before Kate could respond, her phone pinged to signal an incoming text message. Keeping an arm wrapped around Ricki's waist, Kate checked the message with a frown. "It's Lanie. They found the van."
Downtown Manhattan…
By the time Ricki and Kate got to the scene, yellow crime scene tape was everywhere, uniformed officers keeping onlookers at bay while Lanie worked her magic in the back of the vehicle. The crumpled front bumper and blood spatter were familiar, but when Ricki caught sight of Lanie's feet hanging out the side of the van, she froze.
Kate frowned, giving Ricki's hand a squeeze. "Castle?"
Speechless, Ricki pointed at the van, feeling her knees suddenly going weak. Kate looked in the general direction, cupping her hand over her mouth when she saw dried blood inside the van and all over the pavement.
The two women shared a look, neither one wanting to voice what they were clearly both thinking.
Without another thought, Ricki made a beeline for the van, oblivious to Kate trying to restrain her. Ricki knew this was an active crime scene, she knew she didn't have a badge, but she didn't care because dammit, this was Alexis, and if that was her blood drying in that van…
The commotion had grabbed Lanie's attention, and she emerged from the back of the van with both hands splayed in front of herself. "Hold on there, Castle!"
Ricki finally stopped, her eyes red and puffy. Kate latched onto her, the detective's heartbeat just as rapid as the writer's. Both women looked at Lanie with wide, pleading eyes, but neither of them could find their voice.
Lanie, in a much softer tone, regarded Ricki. "What's your daughter's blood type?
"A-positive." Ricki's voice cracked.
Lanie closed her eyes and exhaled in relief. "That's B-negative. It's not your baby, Castle."
Ricki and Kate smiled and shared a brief kiss, though there were still tears in the writer's eyes. Kate reluctantly released her grip on her girlfriend, giving her a sympathetic nod before ducking under the crime scene tape to get a better look at the van.
Even amid the flickering blue and red lights, something caught Ricki's eye. She dropped to a knee, seeing another trail of blood along the pavement. It wasn't as dry as the blood in the van, and looking over her shoulder, Ricki decided to follow the trail.
Her steps were slow, careful not to lose the trail in the dark of the night and in the cascade of lights calling attention to this particular corner of Manhattan. The trail grew faint as Ricki approached an alley, and she stopped, wondering if maybe she should turn back.
A man groaning in pain caught her attention, and she disappeared into the alley.
Approaching the sound of the groaning, Ricki could barely make out a slightly heavy set man with a red beard crumpled on the pavement, bleeding from his abdomen. With any luck, that was a round left over from Hasim before the van hit him.
Ricki kneeled in front of the man, noting the anger and hate in his eyes when he registered her presence. The man's nostrils flared, and he sat up a little straighter, hissing in pain as more blood soaked into his shirt.
"You the driver?"
The man said nothing. Not that he had to.
Ricki poked at the man's chest, relishing in the way his pale face contorted in pain. "Where are the girls?"
"I don't talk to cops!"
"Good thing I'm not a cop." Ricki got in the man's face, ignoring the stench of day-old sweat rolling down his temple. "I got friends who are, but that's not why you should be so worried about me. You know that redhead?"
The man said nothing, but the look in his eyes told Ricki he knew.
"That's my daughter, you fucking shitstain!"
Fear flashed in the man's eyes, and he backed up even further against the brick wall. Ricki took pride in eliciting that reaction from him, her nostrils flaring.
"Who do you work for?"
The man shook his head, his breathing rapid and shallow. His eyes flicked back and forth, his shaky hands grasping for anything they could on the ground – yet they came up empty every single time. "I can't tell you! He'll kill me!"
"One more try." Something dark flashed in Ricki's eyes, her face contorting into a scowl she was pretty sure no one had ever seen from her before. Her hands were now remarkably steady, her finger hovering ever so close to the man's wound.
"Who. Do you. Work for?"
The man shook his head.
Ricki slid her finger into the bullet hole in the man's side, and his scream pierced the night and echoed off the walls of the alley.
Ten minutes later…
Making sure to wipe the man's blood off of her hands before exiting the alley, Ricki tried to lighten her expression. She didn't want Kate to know what she had just done, and she certainly didn't want her girlfriend seeing that sort of hate, of anger, in her eyes.
Ricki sighed and stepped out of the alley, thankful that Kate was still focused on the crime scene. It appeared the man's pained cries had gone unheard by everyone else, and Ricki was thankful that she wouldn't have to think up an explanation – for the time being, at least.
Still, she had a lead.
Ducking under the crime scene tape, Ricki approached Kate and kneeled beside her. They brushed hands, and Kate gave the most reassuring smile she could muster, given the gravity of the situation.
"Getting anywhere, Beckett?"
The detective shook her head with a sigh. "Not yet. CSU's gonna run DNA on the blood, but until we get that…" Both women stood. "I'm afraid we're at a standstill. I'm sorry, Castle."
Ricki looked over her shoulder before regarding the detective again, careful to keep her voice down. "Listen, uh…I think I got us a lead."
Kate's face contorted in a mixture of confusion and relief. "What?"
"Yeah." Ricki swallowed hard. "Just, uh…don't get mad, okay? I know I'm not a cop and I'm not supposed to do cop stuff, but…"
Kate grabbed Ricki's hand. "We'll worry about that later. What's the lead?"
Ricki looked Kate right in the eyes. "Does the name Vulcan Simmons mean anything to you?"
