Homecoming: Chapter 13
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DISCLAIMER: Most of these characters are not mine at all, but they are memorable. Thank you, Mr. Marlowe. The others? Yeah, they're mine
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10:47 a.m. East Coast time, Tuesday Morning, April 24, 2012, at the 12th Precinct in New York City
"Let's go over this one more time . . . back to the beginning," Detective Paul Honeycutt states in the interrogation room. Across the table from him sit both Richard Castle and Kate Beckett, and both are far too smug for his liking. Far too smug and sure of themselves from Captain Victoria Gates' perspective as well.
Detective Javier Esposito stands behind the one-way glass in the viewing room . . . a room that, just a year ago, was the normal spot for Richard Castle as he would watch the woman sitting beside him interrogate a perp. Only now, he and Kate are the perps.
Captain Gates wisely decided not to have anyone that either Castle or Kate know personally handle this conversation. They – of course – are not suspects. But they are persons of interest. Because the story they have shared with Captain Gates regarding the return of Alexis Castle is, in the words of Captain Gates, "pure and utter bullshit."
"So, you mean to tell me," Detective Honeycutt begins once again, "that Mr. Vulcan Simmons calls you, and tells you that he is willingly giving Miss Castle back to you, Mr. Castle?"
"That is correct," Richard Castle replies, his trademark smirk from a year ago firmly intact on his face.
"And no money, no ransom, nothing in exchange was requested," Honeycutt continues.
"That is correct," Richard Castle repeats, smirk still intact.
"And even though you have a long, rich and storied history serving with the NYPD," Honeycutt continues, now addressing his monologue at Kate Beckett. "You didn't think to call your friends – your very good friends – at the precinct here to oversee this exchange."
"The thought never occurred to me," Kate confirms. She can't see her, but she can imagine the fury on Captain Gates face behind the glass.
It doesn't help that Richard Castle chooses this particular moment to turn and look at the window, shrugging his shoulders in the classic "I don't know" maneuver. It has his desired effect, as seconds later, the door swings open and Captain Gates walks in.
"Thank you, Detective Honeycutt, that will be all," she tells the older man. He opens his mouth to protest, but then remembers who he is dealing with.
"Yes, sir," he manages, grumbling something else under his breath as he gathers up his folder with papers, and steps out of the room.
"Follow me," Gates tells Castle and Kate, turning to leave the room and walks briskly to her office, never turning back around to ensure she is being followed. She knows they will be coming. She also knows they are lying. What she wants to know is why they are lying.
Seconds later, she is sitting behind her desk, in her familiar position of authority, when Castle and Kate both make their entrance into her office.
"Close the -" Captain Gates begins, but stops herself once she realizes that Kate Beckett has, indeed, already closed the door.
"So, are you two going to tell me what is going on?" Gates begins.
"Not here, sir," Kate replies, falling into the familiar respectful position that she knows the captain demands, and appreciates.
"You suspect ears?" Captain Gates questions, incredulous.
"I know this precinct, Captain," Kate answers, her face and voice firm. "There are always ears everywhere. If you want to know what is happening, we have this conversation somewhere outside this building."
"Otherwise, we thank you for your team's efforts to get Alexis back, but –" Castle remarks, but is interrupted by the captain.
"But you have your own team, your own means of doing things these days," Gates finishes the thought for him.
"Come have lunch with us Captain," Kate tells her. "There is much to tell you, both regarding this case, and . . . regarding more personal things."
As she mentions 'more personal things', Kate holds her left hand up, dangling a finger in front of Captain Gates.
"Yes, I noticed the ring Sunday afternoon when you came here and we spoke," Gates smiles against her better judgement. She pauses for a moment, considering the request from the couple in front of her. It dawns on her that Kate Beckett does not want to lie to her, but as long as they remain in this building, lies it will be. Her time in Internal Affairs prevents her from holding this against her former detective.
"There is a diner around the corner," Gates begins. "I think you know the one I speak of."
"Yes," Kate agrees. "What time?"
"Now," Gates tells her as she rises from her chair. "No time like the present."
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Fifteen minutes later, at the diner around the corner from the 12th Precinct in New York City
The foursome collectively pull out their chairs, taking their seats toward the rear near the kitchen of the small but familiar diner. Captain Victoria Gates has invited Detective Javier Esposito to sit in on the discussion. She figures the couple at the table with her will likely tell the detective what is happening at some point anyway.
"So, talk," Gates tells them as glasses of water are delivered to the table.
"What . . . no preamble? No foreplay?" Castle mocks in indignation. He knows he is playing with fire, but truth be told, Richard Castle is in a good mood. A fantastic mood. His daughter has been returned. Willie got out earlier this morning and by now is likely over the Appalachians on his way back home. Kevin Ryan, absent this morning due to his pending nuptials tomorrow is getting married. And last but not least, through all of the horrors of the past two days, not once has Richard Castle relapsed.
So yeah, the ex-author is in a fantastic mood. Not even Iron Gates is going to ruin this for him.
"What Rick means to say, sir," Kate smiles, "Is that we are happy to be here for Kevin's wedding tomorrow, and happier still to have Alexis back safe and sound."
"Yes, let's talk about that," Gates agrees. "And while I share your mutual joy at having young Miss Castle returned, it is your story about the details of her return that troubles me."
"What do you want to know?" Castle asks, his tone suddenly serious. Gates nods her head unconsciously, as Castle confirms her suspicions about getting away from the precinct.
"I want to know everything, Mr. Castle," Gates tells him.
"Well, I can't tell you absolutely everything, let's get that out in the open now," Castle replies, glancing at Kate.
"Some things are not exactly ours to tell," Kate interjects.
"But what I can say is this," Castle continues. "Vulcan Simmons kidnapped my daughter. Once this kidnapping became known, a friend of mine made a phone call, and an individual who has experience with this sort of thing injected himself into the proceedings."
"This friend was able to convince Mr. Simmons that returning Alexis was in his best interests," Kate continues, smiling easily.
"Mr. Simmons concurred, and returned Alexis last night," Castle breaks in.
"Unfortunately he returned Alexis too late, because later last night, an explosion destroyed – and I understand – partially sank his cruise ship as it sat at the docks," Kate finishes.
"So, Mr. Simmons has met an untimely end, while Alexis is now free. It is good to know people," Castle concludes.
Captain Gates glances at Detective Esposito for a second, and his confused look confirms for her that he is not holding out on her. He finds this development too suspect as well.
"I have many questions, and comments, Mr. Castle," Gates begins. "First of which, word on the streets here tells me that a very powerful man from the west coast underworld has been sending a not so subtle message to his counterparts. These . . . counterparts have found this man's insertion into east coast proceedings to be very disconcerting –"
"Excellent use of the English language, Captain, if I do say so –"
"Mr. Castle, I am trying to be serious here," Gates interrupts. "I do not like the prospects of a potential inter-coastal gang war – on my turf – and I like, even less, the possibility that this potential gang war almost happened because of . . . "
She stops herself from completing the sentence, but Castle completes it for her.
"Because of me," Castle finishes, a different look now painting the features of his face. It is a look she has never seen on the ex-author, a look she would have – a year ago – thought impossible for Richard Castle.
"That's not quite what I meant," Gates backpedals, correcting herself.
"Yet that is what you said," Kate remarks, not letting her ex-boss off the hook. Not just yet.
"Understand me when I tell you this, Captain," Castle begins, and even Javier Esposito is taken aback by the change in tone. If he didn't know this man, Esposito might consider this tone almost . . . menacing.
"I have built something important on the west coast," Castle continues. "To build something of this nature, something of this kind of size and scope . . . well, just understand that you meet people on both sides of the street who take an interest . . . an interest that it is wise not to refuse."
"And sometimes these people become more than partners," Kate interjects.
"They become friends," Castle continues.
"And sometimes, they have been friends for a long, long time before that," Kate remarks.
"And those are the types of friendships that take priority over other newer relationships and friendships . . . no matter how wonderful and deep those newer friendships are," Castle continues, now staring deeply into Javier Esposito's eyes. For a second time, Javier finds himself blinking against the sudden stare from Richard Castle.
"Whether Kate or I like it or not, or even ask for it or not, there are people who have our back, people who care about us," Castle tells the captain and detective.
"People we care about," Kate continues. "And this is not the first time that certain people have come to our aid when we needed it."
"You do know what you are saying, Kate," Javier remarks, now inserting himself into the conversation. "These friends . . . this type of people . . . they play a quid pro quo game."
"What makes you think we have not been playing quid pro quo with them already," Castle tells the table, bringing a gasp to Captain Gates' lips.
"What makes you think that this does not occur every week in your own precinct, Captain," Kate adds, now placing Gates firmly within her gaze.
"Finn with the Westies comes to mind," Castle reminds Esposito.
"Fencing sources, drug-running sources, you name it, we had it here when I was here, and you have it now," Kate adds. "That these sources might actually be friends before they are sources is not something we have control over."
"So here is what you need to know, Captain," Castle tells her, standing up from the table. Kate Beckett stands simultaneously with him, bringing a reluctant smile to the lips of Javier Esposito.
"Back home, we have friends," Castle continues. "Some of those friends are in the police department. Some of those friends are clearly on the other side of the fence."
"The interesting thing is that both friends, on both sides, are longtime friends – friends that I personally have known long before I even dreamed of becoming a cop," Kate tells the stunned captain and detective.
"And those friends – on both sides of the fence – are friends with each other as well as with us," Castle adds as he fastens the buttons on his jacket. "And while I am not going to sit here and try to defend any of this, I can tell you this much. We would still be looking for Alexis, still praying for her safe return without these friends. That was the message that was sent out yesterday."
"And what message is that, Mr. Castle?" Gates asks, now clearly afraid of what she is going to hear.
"Don't mess with us," he tells the captain.
"On either coast," Kate adds, as both the ex-detective and ex-author turn to walk out of the diner.
"See you at the wedding, Javi," Castle tells his stunned friend.
The couple walk out of the diner, leaving the two NYPD officials in the wake of the bomb they have knowingly laid down.
"Couldn't be helped," he tells her once they are in the street.
"I know babe," she reminds him. "We discussed this with Willie this morning. They need to know some element of the truth. Sam insisted that both the underworld and the police understand that a line had been crossed by taking Alexis – not because of who she is to you, but because of who she is to Sam. Who you are to Sam."
"I don't know if they will understand this," he tells her.
"They will, babe," she tells him. "At the most basic level – where Sam lives . . . where all of these people live . . . they will understand."
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10:41 p.m. East Coast time, Wednesday Evening, April 25, 2012, at the post-wedding reception in the Hamptons, New York
"You about ready to leave?" Richard Castle asks the beautiful woman who hangs on his arm.
"Actually, yes," Kate Beckett smiles. "It was a nice wedding, and a nice reception, but honestly I am already starting to miss home."
"This used to be home," he muses aloud, glancing at the large, expansive backyard in the home he used to own.
"Literally, your home," she remarks in understanding.
"As many nice memories as I have of this place, I like our new home more," he tells her. "Because it is ours."
"It will be soon enough," she smiles, glancing at her ring yet again.
"No," he corrects her. "It already is."
"This makes it official," she remarks, still staring at the object on her finger.
"It was official the moment you resigned your post and moved to California," he tells her. "At least that is my reality."
"I like your reality," she tells him, with a soft hip bump.
"Let's grab Alexis," he tells her. "John said he is well rested, and ready to leave any time before midnight."
"You don't have to twist my arm," she chuckles. "I've had just about enough of New York."
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About the same time - 7:47 p.m. West Coast Time in San Francisco, Wednesday Evening, April 25, 2012, at a flat on 24th Avenue off Geary Blvd in the Russian Hill District
"This is a nice home," the woman remarks, glancing around at her surroundings.
"It has been mine – under a pseudo-name – for almost ten years now," the man replies. "A gift from my father, from long ago."
"But you do not live here," she notices.
"No, I normally keep it rented out, but I removed the most current tenants last year, and decided to hold on to it for . . . other purposes," he answers.
"Purposes that will serve you now," she notes.
"True," he admits, "in a way I never imagined."
"So, if anyone checks, this home is rented out by a Randall Morris, an eccentric recluse who owns a grocery mart right down the street. Randall has, in fact, been staying here for the past year. If pushed, there are neighbors who will confirm they have seen him," she states, recounting for her own purposes the story that will be shared.
"Correct. Randall is an associate of mine who –"
The ringing doorbell interrupts the scheming duo.
"I will get that, it is likely Randall," City Councilman Barry Adams tells her. He opens the door, shaking the hand of the man in the doorway.
"Come in, come in," Adams tells the newcomer. "You're just in time."
"It appears I am," Randall Morris replies. He moves to the woman, shaking hands with her quickly.
"She is as beautiful as you described," Morris tells Adams.
"Far more dangerous than she is beautiful," Adams warns. "You would do well to remember that. Now, let's review before we get started."
"We are not married, but have been living together since November of 2011," the woman states matter-of-factly. "That is when I immigrated here from the Ukraine."
"Although we live together, I frequently have other women over," Morris continues the conversation. "That will be in line with what neighbors have seen from me in the past months."
"Tonight, I have had enough, and confronted you," the woman remarks, rehearsing her story.
"A mistake you should not have made, as I became angry and assaulted you and kicked you out," Morris concludes.
"So – we are all clear?" Adams asks the duo.
"All clear," the woman agrees. "Now, make this look real. From what you have shared with me, these people have seen brutality, and will not be fooled by cosmetic appearances."
"With pleasure," Morris states, drawing a fist back. The knife that is suddenly at his throat appears as if out of thin air. Morris never saw the woman move.
"Not too much pleasure, Mr. Morris," she warns.
"Understood," Morris replies nervously. He watches the knife disappear alongside her hip. He glances at her dark eyes, which simply nod along with the head.
"Tell me when to stop," he tells her, and quickly lands a hard right fist to her cheek. She somewhat rolls with the punch, easily seeing it coming, and therefore minimizing any serious damage.
"Again," she tells him.
He punches her again, this time with his left fist, along her upper opposite cheek. She rolls with this punch also, absorbing some, but not much.
"Again," she states with no emotion.
He punches her three more times. Each time, she gives him the same, single instruction.
"Again."
His final punch lands just above her left eye, at a spot that will likely open up. This one she allows to connect solidly. She nods her head.
"That should be enough," she remarks, taking her phone out and placing a call.
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EPILOGUE
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9:10 p.m. West Coast Time at the front gate of the Castles Complex in Sausalito, California
The taxicab drives up through the tall trees, the structures waving magnificently in the dark of night. It stops at the front gate, as the cabbie gets out of the cab. He opens the back driver's side door, and helps the clearly battered woman out of the back-seat.
There are bruises on both cheeks, and a deep bruise that looks as if it has been oozing blood. Underneath her t-shirt are a number of shoulder blade bruises as well. She limps, leaning into the cabbie as she walks to the front gate where the security chief steps out of the enclosure to check her in.
"We have a new resident," he states into the walkie-talkie unit. "Looks pretty bad," he adds. This starts activity inside the Castles Complex, as the night crew begins the admission pre-procedures.
"Come this way with me, Miss –"
"Markov," the woman tells him, her eyes darting around. To the security chief, it is a look of fear. For the woman, it is simply a quick perusal, getting a lay of the land.
"Elena Markov," she completes her introduction. "Thank you so much for helping me."
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A/N: Outside of Castle's family, and Kate Beckett, my absolute favorite characters in the Castle universe have always been Jordan Shaw and Elena Markov. Both were characters that were only used for one story arc (at least Shaw's arc lasted two episodes). But for Markov, I thought she was the most brutal, most intriguing character the writers created, and they tossed her away. I have – since I wrote A Different Road Taken which started this AU, looked for a good way to introduce Elena Markov into this AU. She brings a balance to the equation, which to this point has clearly been tilted in Castle's favor. With Mike Monroe, Lindy Matthews, Sam Carlos and Willie Crockett, the scale has easily been weighted on Castle's side. Bringing Elena into the mix – a master strategist and fighter – evens things, even if only a bit.
Now we know what Barry Adams was doing in the Ukraine. I apologize for this story taking so long, but things will heat up quickly as Elena is introduced to the team and residents at the Castles. Whether she is a friend or a foe, she is always a fun character to write. I'm jazzed about this next group of stories.
Stay safe, everyone.