Now Castle enters the story.
One afternoon after a very pleasurable romp with Karl in Room 307, she was heading home when a storefront poster caught her wondering gaze. It was advertising a public session with Richard Castle showcasing just his first detective. The blatant omission of the character based on her did not sit well with her fond memories of being the real inspiration for that character.
Their last interaction had not gone well. It was a rare case where her agent bravado had failed her. He was both the most familiar and most distant man in her life. The omission was an insult to one of the proudest periods in her life, and she was not having it. Yes, he had cause to complain about the personal part, but their professional collaboration was above reproach.
On the day of the event, she arrived wearing large sunglasses and opted to sit in the last row. When he approached the lectern, their eyes locked momentarily before he took up the subject at hand. The presentation was much better than last time though many in the audience heckled him about why he had excluded her character. Initially Castle ignored these hecklers, but that seemed to incense the crowd. Eventually his patience ran out, and he just walked off without her ever having a chance to voice her displeasure.
As the audience started to file out, she stayed in her seat to see if he would approach. "Why are you here?", Castle began.
"I am between missions, saw the poster, and wanted to register my protest as well. The crowd said it better than me. She is a fan favorite, and you should have known better."
"Yes, I am now painfully aware of my mistake. I take it private enterprise was not to your liking?"
"No, nothing fulfilling about sales especially when justice calls."
"Back nailing bad guys just like old times, right?"
"You could say that, but now it is more preemptive. People I seek are mostly bit players who need to stay in their lane. Why are you out of your quiet life in the Hamptons?"
"Two reasons. A week long free writers workshop is a change of pace I need right now. My gray cells desperately needed a new challenge. Second, it provides a nice cover for what I hope will be a deeper dive into a part of your story I could never quite reconcile. The night you were saved by a mystery woman outside Vulcan Simmons counting house we assumed she was sent by Bracken. That explanation never fit the story."
Kate's smirk disappeared as she recalled the events from that awful night. "That led to some digging with a few former black ops types. They provided a short list of likely suspects. Meanwhile Haley began a closer look at cam footage from around the place where you were rescued. Her efforts uncovered some disturbing images. A private facial recognition expert did the rest. The name she uses is Elena Markov. She is a private version of you - I guess. She is not someone you want to meet in a professional sense."
"Are you inviting me to go along as your protector?", she teased.
"Not a bad thought actually. Wouldn't you like to thank her for saving your life, if she responds?"
Kate was tempted by the offer. This was not what she thought this conversation would be about. Her anger about the snub of her character had been foremost on her mind when she sat down. Now, he had injected new doubts into a near-death experience she had long relegated to the blur of bad events in her life. If anyone else had proposed this, she would have dismissed it out of hand. Unfortunately, she knew better when it came to Castle. Before parting, she gave Castle her number, but no guarantees. On her way home, her natural caution clashed with her agent bravado. In the end, her image won out if the call ever came.
The call from Castle came later that week. The proposed addition of Beckett to the mix seemed to have resonated with the mystery guest. The meeting would take place in a Brighton Beach restaurant. The predominance of Russians in that area fit with the accent she remembered. Kate considered being armed, but decided that the venue would not be a likely place for an armed confrontation. Instead, she would opt for a loose outfit and sandals that would not hinder her considerable skills if Elena had something other than talking in mind.
When they entered the restaurant, Kate could tell two things. Everyone knew who they were, and Castle was the only one not fluent in Russian. After being directed to discard their outerwear by the door, they were seated in a booth with a squat man sitting opposite them. Without any introduction. he produced what Kate recognized as an electronic scanner. Castle watched as she voluntarily did an obtrusive scan of her body, while most of the patrons looked on like it was what everyone did before ordering. Castle put his packet down and awkwardly followed suite. The gizmo stayed silent, and the man left.
About ten minutes elapsed before a petite women with black hair settled in opposite then. "Mr. Castle I must commend your detective work. Mistakes in my line of work can be deadly. I assume this packet will be very enlightening. Agent Beckett, I have heard of you as a graduate of BAM School, and except for your planned detour in the fight club, you seem to have become just what your masters wanted." Kate was startled and increasingly perturbed by the notion that her time at the fight club could be referred to as planned and replied, "You are very well informed." Kate hoped her cryptic response would elicit more details. It did not, but a troubling notion had taken seed. Both were at a loss for words as Kate conjured the implications and Rick wondered about BAM School and how his former wife ended up in a fight club.
Finally, staring directly at Kate, their guest continued, "We planted an operative as one of the counting girls. Earrings can be both pretty and functional. A team was with me about to intervene when you suddenly appeared with your minder. His quick demise was well - what I do. The contract was not an altruistic one. It was to pay a debt. The contract came because your unconventional actions saved his wife."
Both Kate and Castle knew of only one person who fit that description - Secretary of Defense Read. On the surface, this seemed preposterous. How the hell could such an organization of freelancers exist that they had never heard of? Kate immediately sought clarification by asking, "So you just come out of the woodwork and perform these assignments privately?"
"Yes, I was trained by my government much like you and became disenchanted with the opaqueness of it all. With my new employer, you understand things better and can pass on those assignments that are not to your liking."
Kate was now totally captivated by this women sitting across from her. She definitely wanted more time with this woman, but that frank discussion was for another time far from the sanctimonious ears of someone like Castle. He was not in her life and certainly had no need to know about her future plans. After finishing the last dregs of her coffee, she replied, "You have offered some revelations I would like to explore."
Elena nodded and said, "I think that can be arranged." Elena was quite pleased with the vibes she was getting from Beckett. She had not seriously considered the idea of meeting Castle until Beckett was added to the mix. She worked for a group called Gamma. They were a private conglomerate who provided a range of less-than-legal services for clients willing to pay. A check of their database suggested Kate was a qualified operative who might be receptive to recruitment. Handsome bounties were paid for such things, and the extra cash would come in handy right now for the facial rebirth she knew she needed. As she scooted out of the booth toward the exit through the kitchen, she was quite pleased to have overruled her original reluctance.
Castle, on the other hand. understood Kate's reply was calibrated for two different audiences. Elena would leave with the unmistakable impression that Kate was both envious and interested. For Castle, the message was the exact opposite. Despite their past tumultuous history, he was no longer welcome in her world. They parted for the last time two blocks later. All the joys and angst of their past relationship ended with a mutual deafening silence. All he got was a perceptible shrug as her direction abruptly turned away from his. Pausing to watch her disappear into the throng, he fondly remembered a relationship cool to spark, white hot at its zenith, and now nothing, but a few very dying embers of loss and regret.
Three days later, Kate was in Milan as the geeks were now sure of their mark. Two days after that, the ransomware maker was in the local clinic with both sore wrists and smashed fingers. She never wanted to see that woman or baton again. The message was clearly received just as intended. A day later, Kate flew home to rave reviews from her handler.