Private Eyes 4: Extreme Ways

Chapter 3

A buzzing noise woke him up.

Castle blinked sleepily.

The buzzing continued. Groaning, he frowned, shifting on the bed, groping around in the semi-darkness for the infernal device. His fingers skimmed over the smooth flat surface of his iPhone, but when he turned it over, he realized it wasn't the device that was disturbing him. A scowl touched his features as the buzzing continued unabated. Sitting up in bed, he glanced over his shoulder, hoping that his wife—his wife . God, he'd never get tired of calling her that—was still sleeping.

Carefully getting up out of bed, Castle padded quietly through the suite, searching for the jacket he'd worn earlier while they were out and about. Following the trail of discarded clothing—they'd wasted no time ravishing each other once they'd got back—Castle located the jacket in a pile on the floor, lying right next to Kate's rumpled panties. Bending down, he rifled through the coat pockets until he pulled out the offending device, an obsolete looking flip-phone.

The TCD-74.

While he mainly used the iPhone that Kate had bought for him, Castle couldn't bring it in him to dispense with the reliable TCD-74. While it looked like an outdated flip-phone, it was actually far more technologically advanced compared to the iPhone charging on the nightstand. For one thing, it had a much longer battery life.

Grunting, Castle flipped the phone open and blinked in the sudden flash of light from the little screen. Squinting, he read the caller ID and groaned. He inhaled a quick breath to center himself before answering.

"Hello."

"Son," greeted the commanding voice of the legendary CIA agent Jackson Hunt.

Castle gritted his teeth and fought the urge to hang up immediately.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" he asked, but didn't bother waiting for an answer before he all but spat out, "What do you want?"

"I hear you got married."

"I suppose you disapprove."

There was enough of a pause that Castle took that as confirmation. But then Hunt surprised him.

"I was wrong," Hunt admitted, and the thick quality of his voice informed Castle that the admission had been difficult for the older man to make.

"Is that so?" pressed Castle, unwilling to give an inch when it came to his bastard of a father. He'd only learned the truth of his parentage nine months ago. He was still adjusting to the information.

"She makes you happy," Hunt said. "You're my son. That's all that should matter."

His brow furrowed, confused. He recalled their last conversation.

"I'm my own man," he'd said.

"That you are," Hunt had concurred. "Still. I think it's a mistake. A waste of good training. You may be insubordinate and reckless at times, but York is right when he says you're a great agent."

Castle had just stared at him, appalled. "That's all I am to you, an asset?"

Hunt had raised a surprised eyebrow. "Of course," he'd confirmed, as if it was obvious. "As I said, I never wanted to be a father."

Harsh and cruel, but at least the man had been honest.

There was something about this call that was raising alarm bells in the back of Castle's mind. It didn't make sense. Why would Jackson Hunt suddenly act like a somewhat decent father? He'd never tried before. Why now? Too tired to really think over it, he shook his head.

"Is that all?" Castle asked, wanting to finish this conversation so he could crawl back into bed with his wife.

"I wish to convey my congratulations to you and your bride."

Castle was dumbstruck. He worked his jaw for a few moments before finally finding his voice. "What?"

"I've made lunch reservations for you two at Le Jules Verne," Hunt said.

"Reservations?" Castle echoed, stunned.

"It is still customary to bestow the newlyweds with a gift, yes?" Hunt asked. Was that his attempt at a joke? "The maître d' has my details, so there is no need to worry about cost. Treat yourselves. It is my gift to you and your bride."

"I… I don't understand," Castle scrubbed a hand down his face.

"You're my son," Hunt repeated. "Think of this as an olive branch, as it were. And an apology."

"You're serious?"

"I'm always serious, son, you know that," Hunt said with a reproaching tone.

Yes. Yes, he did. Jackson Hunt had a reputation for his unyielding sense of duty. The man had no concept of fun. He never took time off for himself. Rarely indulged in personal needs. One of those exceptions being with a vivacious Broadway actress named Martha Rodgers. The results of that lapse had been the birth of Richard Alexander Rodgers.

"Why now?" Castle asked.

Oddly enough, there seemed to come a brief hesitation from the other man, as if he were uncomfortable about acknowledging something. But resolve soon won out. "I'm old. The Agency won't keep me around forever. And… well, son, I'd like there to be something to look forward to in my eventual… retirement." He could tell that that last word was specifically difficult for the older man to say.

"Uh huh."

"There will be grandchildren, I assume."

"Grandchildren!" Castle nearly choked on the word. "It's a little too soon for that." He stopped, eyebrows knitting together. "Wait. You've never even asked about Alexis."

"I keep an eye on her," Hunt asserted. "She's doing quite well at Columbia. Pre-Med. And isn't there a boy named Max?"

Castle pressed his lips together.

"I know I have a lot to make up for, son," Hunt said, actually sounding sincere. It was shocking really, kind of hard to believe. Castle had never known the senior agent to express such emotions beyond stern and disapproving. "So, please, accept this gift. Look at it as a peace offering, if you must. Take your bride out and enjoy a nice lunch together. You deserve it." A brief pause."She deserves it."

"All right," Castle relented. Because Hunt was right about one thing.

"Thank yo—"

"This isn't for you, Hunt," Castle hissed out. "Or even for me. It's for her. Like you said: She deserves it."

There was a pause.

"I'll take it."

"Right," Castle grunted. "Is that all?"

"Yes, I suppose I should let you get back to sleep. It is rather late. I shall text you the details in the morning, your time."

And then that was it. Hunt terminated the call. Castle stared at the phone for a long beat, before shaking his head and flipping the phone shut. Still in somewhat of a shocked state, he meandered back into the bedroom, tossed the TCD-74 down next to his iPhone, and then slipped back under the covers, snuggling in close to his beloved wife. He closed his eyes and nuzzled her hair, inhaling deeply her intoxicating scent.

He'd accept his estranged father's peace offering. But not for him. It was for Kate. She deserved the best honeymoon he could provide, and having lunch while looking down on Paris from the Eiffel Tower seemed like a nice outing for the pair of them.

Letting out a soft sigh, Castle allowed sleep to reclaim him.

XXX

She rose early, before sunrise, and set about doing her morning routine, which involved some stretching exercises, followed by several reps of pushups, crunches, and squats. She would have liked to have gone for a quick run, get in some good cardio, but with this particular assignment, Elena wanted to keep a low profile.

Until the main event.

The setting for the execution was an interesting choice. Perhaps her employers were sending a message with this one.

She didn't mind.

Stripping, she stepped into the shower, and washed quickly and efficiently, taking no longer than was strictly necessary. A habit picked up during her time at the Academy for Orphaned Girls in the motherland. She really didn't think about those days that often anymore. Though she appreciated everything she had been taught back then. The instruction and treatment she'd received there had molded her into the fierce woman she was today. So, all in all, she had no complaints.

As she was drying off, she ordered room service for breakfast. Nothing fancy, just a poached egg, toast and coffee.

Dressed only in the hotel bathrobe, Elena sat at the small desk and ate her sparse breakfast as she went through another review of her upcoming assignment. There was more to it than the simple termination of the target. She needed to acquire something on his person. So, she couldn't just kill him and leave. It was just an additional challenge to make her day more fun. Her employers always allowed her to use her own discretion in how she fulfilled a contract, unless otherwise instructed, as in this particular task, but there was enough vagueness in the instructions to give her some leeway.

Nibbling on the toast and sipping her coffee, Elena pulled up photos and maps of the surrounding target location, doing one last assessment of possible escape routes in case it all went wrong. She was mulling over a potential idea she'd had while showering. Last night, while looking at the fashionable black dress again, Elena had noticed the other item her handler had told her was inside the garment bag. And, as he'd suggested, it was something that could prove to be very useful this afternoon.

Her lips pressed into a tight smile.

This could actually be some fun.

XXX

Waking with a huge yawn, Kate Beckett lazily stretched her arms and legs, arching her back off the mattress and mewling like a contented feline, feeling so very lax and limber after the amorous activities of the previous day and night. They had definitely kicked off their honeymoon with a bang. A very big—and satisfying—bang.

Even during the height of her youthful wild escapades, Kate had never had so much sex, in both splendid variety and superb quality. Sex with Rick Castle was definitely the best of her life. She had never felt more compatible—and not just on a physical level—with anyone else. It was one of the many reasons that made him so special.

He was it for her.

Her one and done.

Her only.

"Morning, my love," Castle announced as he nudged the pocket doors open and came padding into the bedroom from the adjourning sitting room outside. "I thought we'd have breakfast in bed."

Combing her fingers through her tousled hair, Kate sat up in bed and smiled happily as she watched her husband, dressed in one of the complimentary bathrobes, bring over a tray of scrambled eggs, bacon, and one large croissant. Her smile widened when she spotted the cup of coffee.

She reached for that first. Obviously.

"Hmmm, so good," Kate hummed after taking her first sip.

Castle sat on the edge of the mattress and smiled, yet something about his expression told her something was off. She knitted her eyebrows together as she took another sip of her coffee, a delaying action, giving her time to think and prepare to confront him.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Huh?"

She flashed him a pointed look, letting him know she wasn't buying his little confused act. "Don't play dumb, Castle," she reprimanded. "It's beneath you."

"Which you were last night, very happily, might I add," he quickly interjected with a playful smirk. "I certainly heard no complaints. The opposite, in fact."

He went on like that for several minutes, rambling on at length, in explicit detail, over their activities of the previous night. Kate pursed her lips and pushed her tongue against her inner cheek as she waited him out, watching him with slightly amused eyes as she allowed him to stall.

"You finished?" she asked when he went silent.

Castle gave a short nod.

"Nice trick, babe," she said with a soft smile, lifting her free hand to affectionately pat the side of his face, before letting it drop and giving him a discerning look, "but it won't work on me."

He sighed. "Sorry, you're right."

Twisting his torso around, Castle gently placed the tray down onto the ottoman located at the foot of the bed. While he was doing so, Kate put her coffee cup on the bedside table and shifted, pulling her legs up and crossing them as she sat up, resting her back against the headboard. So comfortable around her husband that her state of undress didn't even occur to her, not until Castle's eyes immediately drifted down to her naked chest when he turned back around to face her.

She allowed him a brief moment to appreciate her nakedness before clearing her throat to gain his attention. He licked his lips and hesitantly dragged his eyes up to meet her gaze.

"What's going on, babe?" Kate asked, reaching out to rest a hand on his knee. "You can talk to me. I'm your wife. You don't have to hide anything from me." She narrowed her eyes, recalling his distracted behavior after their early supper at the small restaurant along the Seine. "Is this about last night? You seemed distracted."

"Last night?" his brow furrowed, but then he flashed his signature smirk. "I don't think I was distracted last night. I was very focused on making you scream."

Kate bit her lower lip, but still rolled her eyes. She gave his chest a gentle slap. "No, babe. Earlier, after dinner. When I came out of the restaurant you seemed distracted."

"Yes," he admitted haltingly, briefly casting his eyes downward. "I'm sorry, Kate. I should have told you. I… I just didn't want to ruin things, but now they're ruined anyways."

"Ruined?" she frowned. "What do you mean, Castle? How are things ruined?"

She watched as he took a deep breath, as if to fortify himself. A little nervous trickle started up low in her belly. She pressed her lips together to suppress the unsettling feeling.

"I lied," he confessed in a quick blow. "When you asked if everything was okay. I lied. Danberg had just called and—"

"He knows were on our honeymoon, right?" Kate interjected, a little peeved. "Damn it. He was your best man for crying out loud!"

"I know, I know," Castle hissed, raising supplicating hands. "He knows, but he said it was important."

"And?"

"I wouldn't listen," Castle said with a mild shrug. "I turned him down flat and hung up."

Kate nodded. She knew something had happened while she'd been using the bathroom. But that wasn't all of it. Knitting her eyebrows together, she glanced up at her husband again, and bit her lower lip. "There's more, isn't there?"

Castle swallowed hard, and she watched the motion of his throat as he did so. "Danberg called me back immediately, and I answered, only to tell him to shove it, but he didn't give me that chance." He paused, casting an anxious look her way. "You're not going to like it, Kate."

She gritted her teeth in frustration. "Rick. Just… tell me," Kate ordered, making a point of using his first name.

His jaw tightened and he stared dead ahead, not exactly at her, more like through her.

"Elena Markov," was all he said.

Kate frowned, easily remembering the woman involved in the undercover assignment that was the beginning of the end in her quest for justice for her mother, eventually resulting in the arrest of Senator William H. Bracken.

That undercover case had been an elaborate snare orchestrated by Bracken to entrap her, essentially so he could void a deal that Castle had secretly made to protect her. Elena Markov had played the part of a desperate woman who had been unwittingly made into a drug courier. And she'd played her part well. She managed to trick both the FBI and NYPD into thinking they had a way to get information on a drug ring that they could then bring down and dismantle.

The plan had seemed so simple at the time. She would go in place of Elena, meet and identify contacts within the drug ring. Instead, Kate had found herself playing the role of a paid assassin. Her cover was soon blown and she only survived thanks to the help of the woman she'd been pretending to be.

Later, they had tussled with the assassin again, when Elena Markov had assisted Ray Kilmer in his assault on the Bunker. Kate had engaged in hand-to-hand combat with the woman and had managed to injure her, though not gravely.

"Last I recall," Kate said, eyebrows knitting together, "Elena Markov had been taken into custody by the CIA, and was placed in some black site for questioning."

"That's what I thought too," Castle nodded. "She was being transferred when the convoy was hit."

"She escaped?" Kate asked, shocked.

"More like extracted," Castle supplied. "According to Danberg, Elena's been popping up in various locations around the time that certain high-profile associates of the Consortium have died under mysterious circumstances."

Kate let out a humorless chuckle. "Sounds like the Consortium is doing some house cleaning."

"That's what Danberg thinks, yes."

"Okay, so I get that, but why did he call you?" Kate asked, feeling a knot start to form in the pit of her stomach, as if she already knew the answer but didn't want to acknowledge it, because that would make it real.

"She's here, in Paris," Castle said quickly, as if ripping off a bandage.

"Shit," was all she could say. Kate reached up and rubbed her forehead as she closed her eyes, trying to think, but then she remembered his earlier words. "Wait? You said you turned him down. What did Danberg ask?" But before he could open his mouth, she answered her own question. "He was trying to recruit you for a mission."

Castle shook his head. "No, he wasn't. I'd only assumed when he first called. But that wasn't his intent. He was simply being a friend. Langley definitely wouldn't have authorized that call."

"So… he was warning you. Warning us. Because he knows our history with Elena Markov," Kate deduced.

Castle tapped his nose. "Bingo."

She nodded, then knitted her eyebrows together. "What if he was calling to recruit you?"

"What?"

"You heard me, Rick," she almost snapped, staring up at him. "If the Agency called right now, what would you say?"

He glanced at her aghast. "Kate… do you really have to ask? I'd say no. Not so kindly, but that's what I'd tell them." He stopped, frowning.
"What? Don't you believe me?"

"Oh, Castle, no. No, no," she sighed, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on his knee, offering a slight squeeze. "I believe you. I do. I just… I guess… I don't know. I… I know the man I married. The man I love. Your sense of duty. Of service."

"I resigned," Castle reminded, moving his hand over hers and interlacing their fingers together. "I'm done with that life. I'm just a writer now. I'm happy."

"I'm happy too," she smiled as she looked up into his eyes. "I just don't want you to have… any regrets."
"I don't, and I won't," he assured, lifting her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles. "You're the love of my life, Katherine Houghton Beckett. A life with you is all the adventure I need."

She laughed at that, light and airy. "I'm an adventure, am I?"

He grinned deviously, as he leaned forward, waggling his eyebrows. "Oh, most definitely."

Kate closed her eyes and hummed as their lips met in a lovely kiss. A soft sigh of unfiltered contentment escaped when they parted. She brushed her nose against his and pressed another kiss to his mouth.

"You know, you've been an adventure since the second you bumped into me at the airport," she said. "It kinda feels like it was just yesterday."

"Almost two years."

"Funny how time flies."

"Yeah, funny," Castle rumbled in reply, slanting his lips over hers once more, kissing her thoroughly.

His hand cupped her jaw, and the other slid down her chest. Kate moaned into his mouth, retreating only to reach for the sash around his waist and parting the robe open. Her lips quirked upwards in a delighted smile when she found him naked underneath. Leaning into him, she sought out his mouth again, and languidly kissed him as her hand dropped down to his lap, awakening his desire.

Castle shifted, moving over her as she slid back down to the mattress, beaming up at him as he caressed her sides, and coaxed her legs apart.

Breakfast—and other things—could wait.

They were on their honeymoon after all.

XXX

Castle reclined on the rumpled bed, nibbling on the remains of the croissant. Kate was in the shower, and his busy brain was working while he was alone.

Elena Markov was in Paris. And considering what Danberg had told him, it was a good bet that the Russian assassin was here to take out another Consortium associate. And then there was that call from Jackson Hunt late last night. Separately, those two seemed unconnected, but now that he was thinking about it, Castle couldn't help but be suspicious of his father's so-called gift. He couldn't help it. He'd been trained to be suspicious. One didn't last long in his former line of work without being suspicious. And Jackson Hunt had not been very happy with Castle's decision to resign.

Something else was going on. He didn't trust Hunt.

"You're thinking very loudly."

Jerking, he arched his neck to see Kate pad out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her slim body. She was working at drying her hair, but her sharp and intelligent eyes were boring into him.

"What's up?" she asked.

"Last night, while you were asleep, Jackson Hunt called."

"Your father?"

He nodded.

"What'd he want?" Kate sounded just as cautious.

Castle paused, just a moment, still finding it difficult to believe. "To offer an olive branch."

"An olive branch?" Kate nearly laughed, and he couldn't blame her. He had laughed as well. "What kind?"

"A wedding present, or so he said. Lunch reservations at Le Jules Verne."

"Le Jules Verne?" she repeated, brow furrowing in thought. "The restaurant in the Eiffel Tower?"

He nodded. "Hunt said the restaurant had his details and we didn't have to worry about paying."

Kate scrubbed the towel over her head and knitted her eyebrows together. "You think there's more to it." It wasn't a question, but rather a statement. Oh, she knew him so well.

"I mean, yeah," Castle gestured vaguely with his hands. "We can't take anything at face value with that man."

She sighed. He narrowed his eyes, recognizing that sound.

"What?" he asked.

"What did he say, exactly?"

Castle swung his legs over the edge of the mattress and sat up. He closed his eyes briefly, inhaling deeply, and then proceeded to recount his entire conversation with Jackson Hunt from last night, verbatim. He had a very good memory, something that was inherent, not trained. It was a talent that came in handy during his previous occupation, and wasn't too shabby for his new career in writing.

"Okay," Kate inclined her head, tapping her chin as she thought. "Look, I don't know him like you do, so this might just be because I don't have the same baggage, but to me it sounds genuine. I get why you're suspicious—I'd be too in your position—"

"I'm sensing a but."

"But, maybe—just maybe, this once—we can give him the benefit of the doubt," she shrugged, and then reiterated. "Just this once."

Castle was still hesitant. "I don't know, Kate."

She padded across the room and sat down beside him on the bed. Taking his hand in hers, she offered him an understanding smile. "Whatever you decide, Castle. I'm with you. One hundred percent."

He looked at her, soaking in her unconditional love and support. God, he was a lucky man. She was his true partner, in all things. It didn't get any better than that.

"I've never been," Castle admitted in a quiet voice, allowing a soft smile to form on his face. "I've always wanted to."

"Then let's go," Kate said, squeezing his hand. "And since he's paying, we'll order the most expensive bottle of wine to go along with our meal. How's that sound?"

Castle chuckled. "Sounds brilliant."

She cocked an eyebrow as she gave him a sidelong glance. "I'm known to be brilliant from time to time."

"All the time," he shook his head. "You're extraordinary, Kate Beckett. Always."

"I'll try not to let it get to my head," she grinned back at him, offering a flirtatious wink.

A low buzz intruded into their playful repartee. Castle arched his neck towards the bedside table and reached over to retrieve the TCD-74. Kate laughed airily as she saw it.

"You still have that thing? Isn't it… government property?"

"I won't tell if you don't," Castle joked, and by way of explanation offered, "I've had it for so long, I couldn't really part with it. Been through a lot with this little device. Besides, it's got amazing battery life. Way better than any commercial product."

"All right, all right, quit bragging," Kate playfully swatted his shoulder.

Flipping the archaic looking phone open, Castle read the text that had appeared.

"It's from him," he informed her. "Details for the lunchtime reservations at Le Jules Verne."

"It's okay to still be suspicious," Kate said in an understanding tone.

He nodded and flipped the phone shut. "He was right about one thing."

"And what's that?"

"You deserve it."

Kate gave him a bemused look.

"I'd give you the moon and the stars, if I could," Castle asserted. "I'd do anything for you, Kate."

"Oh, Castle," she shook her head, reaching up to run her fingers affectionately down the side of his face. Her eyes locked with his. "We deserve it. We're partners now, remember."

"Yeah, I was there," he smiled.

She pushed up into him and kissed him soundly. His smile only grew.

"Okay," Kate sighed, leaning back.

She stood up and tossed the towel off her body. Castle's eyes immediately dropped to her toned posterior as she strolled towards the wardrobe.

She was saying, "I'll need something appropriate to wear."

"You look fine right now."

"Castle, I'm naked!" she objected.

"I stand by my statement."

She planted her hands on her hips and glared at him, shaking her head disapprovingly. "It's easy for you," she asserted. "Men can just pull on a suit and look great. Women don't have it so easy."

"Hey, it takes a lot to pull off a good suit."

"And you do it so well, babe," Kate tossed back with a wink. "Now, if you promise to be good, I'll let you help me pick out what to wear."
He raised his hand as if swearing an oath. "I so solemnly swear."

She chuckled. "Not buying it, kitten, but… you can come anyways."

Castle waggled his eyebrows at her unintentional double entendre.

"Don't mind if I do," he smirked, jumping off the bed and reaching for her. Kate jerked away from his clutches and shrieked happily as he chased her into the ensuite.

If they were going to enjoy some fine dining, Castle reckoned they needed to build up an appetite.