Private Eyes 4: Extreme Ways
Chapter 5
Danberg stood off to the side, arms folded as he tampered down his exasperation with the protocols obstructing his ability to warn his friends about the situation they'd been dropped into. Perhaps Castle had been right to retire if this was where they were headed. Truthfully, he didn't blame Grayson for her decision. The Assistant Deputy Director didn't have a personal stake in this like he did. It was all just strictly business for her, but at least, she seemed to understand where he was coming from. His fury was reserved for someone else.
After the shock of finding Castle and Beckett at the restaurant, they'd reviewed the photo again, and identified Perrault's contact as John Mason of MI6. There was definitely more going on that they weren't aware of. And there had yet to be any sighting of Elena Markov. That worried Danberg. They still didn't know what she had planned for Perrault, but Grayson was inclined to believe whatever it was would be subtle, as the previous assassinations had been staged to look like accidents or self-terminations. The public setting would seem to lend credence to that theory, yet Danberg couldn't shake the worried feeling in his gut that something wasn't quite right
He once more glanced over at Jackson Hunt. The older man stood there, hands in pockets, surveying the room as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Danberg suspected the senior agent knew something that he wasn't saying, and he didn't know why he wouldn't divulge any information that could help Operation Rodeo. The man really was an enigma.
"I've got more photos from Gibson coming in," Vikram announced.
Danberg watched as the images downloaded and appeared up on the wall monitor. He exchanged a look with Grayson. Judging from her expression, she was coming to the same conclusion.
"Perrault is making a deal with MI6," Danberg gave their suspicions voice.
ADD Grayson nodded. She unfolded her arms and stalked back to the computer consoles. "I need to speak with SIS Deputy Chief Kessler."
One of the female techs picked up a phone and started punching in the numbers that would connect Grayson with her MI6 counterpart. Out of the corner of his eye, Danberg caught Jackson Hunt pull his phone out and surreptitiously exit the Operations Center. He narrowed his eyes. After what Hunt had just pulled with Castle and Beckett, he didn't trust the man. With his recent actions, the legendary agent had lost all of the reverence Danberg had once held for him.
The saying was true: Never meet your heroes.
"What do you mean nothing's there!?" barked Emmett Grisham.
Danberg glanced over to see the Deputy Section Chief yank a headset away from one of the startled analysts. He pursed his lips. Things weren't going well in Lisbon. He allowed himself a brief skim of the flat screen displaying the operation details, and noted that both Lawson and Rahimi were in Rossio Square, the distinctive wavy black and white mosaic tiled ground blaringly visible on the screen. The pair were pacing back and forth between the Column of Pedro IV and the south fountain as they searched for their quarry.
"Sir."
Danberg turned away at the sound of Vikram's voice, ignoring Grisham's irate shouts over a blown operation. Walking over to join the tech analyst, he patted the younger man's shoulder.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Just to be thorough, I decided to run a facial rec on every individual visible in the photos, both in the foreground and the background," Vikram explained.
"Yes?" prompted Danberg.
"Well, sir… you see," he tapped his keyboard and moved the cursor with his mouse, clicking on a photo Gibson had taken and sent, clearly shot from a different and lower angle than the others. It provided a different prospective on the meeting between Perrault and his MI6 contact. Vikram punched in a few more keys and zoomed in on a female form in the background. Another few clicks later and the image was enhanced enough that the face became instantly recognizable despite the pixelization. "It's her," he said. "She's there."
Elena Markov.
"Son of a bitch," Danberg whipped his phone out and opened up his contacts. He caught Grayson glancing his way as she talked on her phone. To hell with it, he thought.
If there was one thing he'd learn from his friend, it was that sometimes the rules needed to be broken to do what was right. Vikram would be notifying their team on site, so Danberg knew it was up to him to warn his friend about the danger. Castle and Beckett deserved to know what exactly they'd been thrown into the middle of.
XXX
It happened fast.
Three tables over from where they sat by the window, the older man with the thin mustache jerked and his jaw dropped. His eyes went wide. And then he slumped back in his chair. Dead. Mason was still reaching for the USB flash drive when it happened, but before he could complete his movement, he flinched, and his brow knitted together in confusion. He flinched again, a look of realization past over his features, and he went limp. But unlike the older man, MI6 Agent John Mason fell headfirst into the soup bowl in front of him.
And then there she was.
Kate's eyes went wide when she saw her.
Elena Markov.
Dressed in a tight, form fitting black dress with a short skirt, the assassin was snatching up the USB drive.
Their eyes met. And Kate could have sworn she saw a small smile touch the other woman's face. Elena Markov seemed to nod in acknowledgement, or greeting—something—before lifting a small pistol with a silencer, and aiming it directly at Kate.
She froze. God help her.
A flash of light. A bullet searing through her chest. The world tumbling around. The fresh smell of grass. The harsh bright sun above.
Kate took in a sharp breath of air, the sudden flashback knocking her off balance. Her scars pulsed with the remembered pain. It took her entirely by surprise.
"Get down!" Castle shouted.
He grabbed her by the arm and roughly yanked her out of her seat. She hit the floor hard, the air expelling from her lungs. Castle was flipping their table over. Dishes and utensils clattered to the floor. Glass shattered. Kate squeezed her eyes shut as she felt Castle's body shield hers as the soft pops from the silencer sliced through the air. Splinters of wood rained down on them as the bullets impacted the table.
"Kate?" His hands roamed her torso and sides. "You hit?"
Blinking, she glanced up at him and had enough awareness to shake her head, reassuring him that she was unharmed.
"Just…," she swallowed tightly. "Just startled."
He nodded and pushed up to a kneeling position, one hand resting protectively on her back. Another blast of wood splinters showered down on them. Panicked screams and alarmed voices could be heard. Pandemonium had broken out in the restaurant. Kate shifted, eyes wide, watching as Castle slipped a hand inside his jacket and produced a SIG Sauer.
Kate blinked in surprise. Her eyebrows knitted together incredulously. "You… you brought a gun on our honeymoon!?"
Castle offered her that cocksure grin of his that was both exceedingly irritating and endearing all at once. Damn him.
"Sorry," he intoned, having the decency to look contrite. "Old habits."
She shook her head. "How the hell did you get it through security at the air—wait," she held up a hand when he opened his mouth to reply, "I don't wanna know."
He simply shrugged and flashed her a wink, before peering over the edge of the table. Kate pushed up to her knees and craned her neck over the other side. Elena raised her silenced pistol and fired two more shots. Kate ducked back behind the overturned table.
Castle grunted, and did a quick check of his magazine clip, before slamming it back in. He shifted into a crouch and inched around the corner. Pausing, he looked back over his shoulder and locked eyes with her.
"Stay here."
Kate opened her mouth to protest, but Castle held up a finger and smiled.
"I know, sweet cheeks," he asserted. "But, just this once, do as you're told."
She huffed indignantly and crossed her arms over her chest as she flashed him a fierce glare that would strip the paint off a freshly coated wall.
"That's my girl," he smirked and offered her wink. Castle lifted his gun into the ready position and slid up to his feet, hurrying after a retreating Elena Markov.
Kate gripped the edge of the table to steady herself as she slowly pulled herself up. She glanced around at the chaos caused by the assassin. Her gaze roamed the room before flicking up to the flash of movement, seeing Castle push through a swinging door that presumably led to the kitchen. Stepping around the turned over table, she found two strangers were hovering over the bodies of the dead men. Both were armed with SIG Sauers. One was searching the table, while the other, a young woman with short auburn hair, had a familiar looking archaic phone pressed to her ear.
"You're Kate Beckett, right?" Auburn hair asked after hanging up.
Kate nodded. "CIA?"
The woman seemed to hesitate before inclining her head. "Kelly Gibson," she offered quick introductions. Snapping her attention back to the man searching the table, she said, "I'll assist Castle." She glanced back at Kate. "Stay here with Parker." And then Gibson was hoisting her pistol and darting in the direction Castle and Markov disappeared in.
Kate stood there, both frazzled and frustrated. She carded her fingers through her hair and let out a shaky breath, and set her features into the image of determination.
"Stay here, my ass," she grumbled under her breath.
With her mind made up, Kate maneuvered her way around the destruction, ignoring the warning calls of CIA operative Parker, and chased after her husband and the assassin he was in pursuit of.
XXX
No answer.
Clenching his jaw, worry for his friend rising, Danberg punched the redial. He paced behind Vikram's station, the young analyst waiting with bated breath.
"He's not answering," Danberg hissed in frustration.
"There… er… could be other reasons for that," Vikram tried to reason.
Grayson returned, slipping her phone back into her pocket. "Kessler's playing the runaround, refusing to acknowledge that any MI6 operatives are active in Paris." She looked between the two men. "What have I missed?"
Danberg gestured towards the wall screen and the image of Elena Markov. "She's there, and Castle isn't answering my calls."
"There could be a number of reasons for that," Grayson unknowingly echoed Vikram's earlier assurance. "However," she sighed, "I can't think of any other explanation."
"Ma'am," a tech sitting two spaces from Vikram raised his voice. "Getting an update from Parker."
Danberg followed Grayson as she marched towards the station.
"Perrault and Mason are down," the analyst read the message. "Markov left scene with a USB flash drive, contents unknown. Officer Gibson and Castle in pursuit."
"Then he's made his decision," Grayson noted, exchanging a look with Danberg.
He released a breath. "What about Beckett?"
"Checking," the tech said, sending the info request to Parker out in the field.
The several seconds it took to get a reply felt like an eternity.
"The civilian female with Officer Castle—retired—did not obey orders to stay at scene, followed after Castle and Gibson," the tech read the reply.
"As I said," came the emotionless voice of Jackson Hunt, who materialized out of the shadows. "Sloppy. She'll compromised the mission."
"That wouldn't have been an issue if you hadn't manipulated the situation," Danberg put in.
Hunt merely shrugged.
Grayson ignored both of them, and moved back to Vikram. "Can you tap into the security feeds?" she asked.
"Not without a port jacked into the system," Vikram informed. "Parker has one, but…"
"He needs to thoroughly search the bodies before the local authorities arrive," Grayson finished with a nod. She looked back at Danberg, narrowing her eyes. "You don't agree with Hunt's assessment of Kate Beckett?"
"No, ma'am, I don't," he asserted.
She inclined her head, gesturing for him to follow. "Tell me."
Inhaling a quick breath, Danberg suppressed his anxiety over what was going on in Paris, and accompanied his superior into the private conference room attached to the operations center, already primed to brief ADD Pamela Grayson on the subject that was Rick Castle and Kate Beckett.
XXX
He slammed into a waiter, causing the drink laden tray he was carrying to tilt off-kilter. The young man swore in French as the glasses crashed to the floor.
"Sorry," Castle grimaced, not wasting anymore time, immediately sidestepping over the mess and skidding around the cooking stations.
Shouts and cries followed him as he shoved his way through. A dishwasher jumped back and yelled, gesticulating wildly towards a short hallway that led to a door with the words SORTIE DE SECOURS emblazed across the flat surface. Emergency Exit. Castle offered the young man a quick nod of thanks, and dashed around him, picking up the pace as he made for the door.
Ramming his shoulder against the bar release, Castle burst out onto the exterior deck, blinking in the sudden glare of the afternoon sunlight. Gripping his SIG Sauer, he narrowed his eyes and quickly took in his immediate surroundings. Not far from where he stood, a uniformed security guard was sprawled on the metal decking. Before he could assess the scene any more, someone collided with him from behind, knocking him off-balance.
Pivoting slightly and raising his gun, he was ready to fire, but stopped just before pulling the trigger when he immediately recognized the woman with short auburn hair.
"Gibson?" he hooted in surprise. "What are you—Oh… of course." He scowled, realizing just how much of a fool he'd been played by Jackson Hunt. Pushing that aside—for now—he offered the younger woman one of his signature smirks. "Sorry for crashing your party." He jerked his head towards the guard. "I think he's just unconscious."
"Better check," the younger woman said, moving over to do so.
Just then, Beckett emerged from the exit. Castle frowned. "I thought I told you to stay inside."
She flashed him an imitation of his cocky grin. "Well… since meeting you, Castle, I haven't exactly always played by the book."
He inclined his head, giving her that.
"Markov?" she asked, eyes jerking down to Gibson checking on the groaning security guard.
Castle turned back, glancing beyond, seeing two sets of metal staircases leading in different directions up the superstructure of the Eiffel Tower. He narrowed his eyes. "I'll go right," he said to Gibson.
She pushed up and lifted her pistol. "Left," she agreed, and hurdled over the chain blocking the left stairway.
Before he took off, he spun back around. "Kate…"
"Yeah, I know: Stay," she grumbled, not even bothering to hide her displeasure. She stepped over to where the guard was regaining consciousness, crouching down to help him sit up. "Go get her." And then her attention was turned toward her charge.
Temporarily satisfied, Castle darted over to the right stairway and vaulted over the chain cordoning off pedestrian visitors.
His feet pounded on the metal stairs as he climbed upwards. Reaching the first landing turn, he craned his neck up and saw a figure in black two flights above. Elena Markov. He aimed his SIG Sauer and fired off two rapid rounds. The bullets ricocheted off the metal latticework. Markov jerked and glanced down, spotting him. She returned fire. Castle dodged the three shots, hearing the metal twang as the rounds impacted into the steel beams supporting the platform. The clang of her rapid footsteps reverberated from above as she immediately continued her upwards climb.
"Where the hell is she going?" Castle pondered, lowering his weapon, and hurrying after her as she quickened her pace.
Between the crisscrossing metal stairs, the lift cables moved, pulling up an elevator to the top observation deck. The metal car rose up, momentarily blocking his view on one of the landings. He gripped the railing for support and propelled himself around the turn, only to find a grinning Elena Markov waiting for him.
The assassin grabbed the handrails and lifted up enough to give her leverage. She swung her leg out and kicked him hard in the chest, sending him tumbling backwards, dropping his weapon. He felt the guardrail against his back and momentum seemed poised to take him over the edge. But before gravity could take hold, someone was clutching his right pantleg with both hands, fingers digging into the fabric and tugging hard, providing just enough resistance to allow him to swing back to the safety of the grated platform with a clatter as he landed on top of his savior.
"Nice timing," he groaned.
Kate let out an anxious chuckle, her warm breath tickling his face. "Normally I wouldn't complain about this position, but I think a metal rivet is digging into my back."
Castle shifted his weight as he rolled off her. He located his discarded weapon and retrieved it, grunting as he pushed up to his feet. He offered Kate his free hand, and helped her up. They leaned against one another for support, both pointedly not talking about how close he actually came to tumbling over the edge.
Years ago, he had learned to compartmentalize traumatic experiences, but that had become more difficult since he'd met Kate Beckett. She looked at him with large, expressive eyes, telling him more than words ever could.
"I should be cross you don't listen to me," he asserted with a wry grin.
"If you wanted an obedient housewife, you should have married someone else," Kate tossed back, matching his sardonic humor. "Now," she sobered. "Let's go get her."
Untangling his arm from around her waist, he grabbed her hand, interlocking their fingers.
And together, they sprinted up the stairs.
XXX
She glanced down, arching her neck around the rising elevator box, the happy tourist inside oblivious. Her lips ticked upwards as she spotted the tumbled pair on the landing below. The long brunette tresses of the woman unmistakable. Beckett. She couldn't help but admire her. The woman was tenacious, arriving just in the nick of time to save her man. It would seem that those two were very often extremely lucky.
She hadn't meant to kill Castle, so his rescue was of no consequence.
With a slight smile still touching her lips, Elena Markov left the newlyweds to untangle themselves, and raced up the stairs, pumping her legs to quicken her pace. The wind was a little stronger up here, and her hair whipped about her face as she gripped the railing and pulled herself around the next bend in the stairway.
The nondescript black bag was exactly where she had stashed it earlier. Swinging it up off the metal grating, she slipped her arms through the straps and secured them over her shoulders, tugging down hard until it was tight. As she did so, Elena hurriedly glanced back down, seeing Castle and Beckett running up the metal stairs, hands linked.
"How romantic," she chuckled to herself as she pulled the harness taut and buckled it at her waist.
Elena stretched up and gripped a long pole sticking up at the outside corner of the platform, lifting one leg and planting one foot on the railing as she heaved herself up until she was perched on the edge, the city of Paris a dazzling sight below.
"Don't!" came a shout.
Elena craned her neck over her shoulder to see Castle on the opposite end of the platform, his eyes narrowing behind the barrel of his SIG Sauer. Beckett stood beside him, watching with acute understanding.
"Another time, Castle," Elena said with a nod, then shifted her gaze to Beckett, and smiled. "до свидания." Goodbye.
And then she jumped.
XXX
Danberg stood next to ADD Pamela Grayson, silently watching the footage relayed to them from Officer Kelly Gibson on the large flatscreen in the center of the Operations Room. The video was shaky, but the image was clear. A silhouetted figure could be seen parachuting down from the Eiffel Tower, floating with ease away.
"How sure are we that that is Elena Markov?" Grayson questioned.
"As sure as we can," Vikram piped in from behind them, ducking his head back down towards his computer console when Grayson arched her neck to glance back. "Positive, ma'am."
"How the hell did this happen?" she demanded. "We should have had her."
Emmett Grisham pulled his headset down and sneered. "Castle and his detective," he asserted. "They're presence interfered."
Danberg held his fists at his side, utilizing a vast amount of restraint in his desire to punch the Deputy Section Chief in the face. "They didn't even ask to be there," he said, proud he had such control over his frustration and anger over the situation. "If Castle had been given the proper information—"
Grayson held up a hand. "Duly noted. That was my call, and I'll admit I was wrong." She sighed, scrubbing a hand down her face. "But we still need to deal with this utter failure. Not only has Markov escaped, but she absconded with the USB drive that Perrault was going to turn over to Mason and MI6."
Standing off to the side, partially obscured in the shadows of the dimly lit room, Jackson Hunt cleared his throat. Danberg could have sworn the man smirked, but that would be out of character. Clasping his hands behind his back, the senior agent strolled over to join them.
"I believe this situation qualifies as an emergency, Assistant Deputy Director," he said with no small amount of smugness in his voice. "Extreme measures are required." It was the closest they'd get to an 'I told you so' from the older man.
Grayson stared him down for a beat, before reluctantly nodding in agreement. She turned to Grisham. "Note that under my authority, at this time and date, I'm reactivating Officer Richard Edgar Castle under the reserve activation clause. Effective immediately."
"Are you sure that's wis—?"
"Now, Mr. Grisham."
Scowling, Grisham inclined his head. Looking none too pleased, he signaled a female tech to his right who began the process. They would need to contact the Paris Station Chief, and prepare some paperwork that Castle would soon need to sign to officially bring him back into the fold.
"A wise decision," Hunt nodded. "Castle may be insubordinate and obstinate at times, but he's one of the best operatives we've ever produced. And if we truly intend to take down the Consortium, we still need him."
"But, sir," Danberg couldn't help himself. At the end of the day, Rick Castle, while a lot of things, was still his friend. "He's on his honeymoon."
The only sign of any emotion from Jackson Hunt was the slight tightening of his jaw muscles. "He made that choice. He'll just have to live with it," was all he said, before offering ADD Grayson a nod and then departed the operations room.
"Ma'am?"
"I know, Mr. Danberg," Grayson sighed, shoulders slumping slightly. "I don't like it either, but he's got a point. Even if I did have access to the complete SSO roster, Rick Castle would still be the most qualified operative on location."
"He's not going to like this," he warned.
"I'm aware of that," Grayson said, straightening her back and giving him a pointed look.
He got the message. "Understood," he nodded.
"For what it's worth," she said with softening eyes. "I'm sorry."
Danberg offered her a shrug. "I'm not the one you should be apologizing to." That would be Detective Kate Beckett, he added in his mind.