Posted 3 Feb 2019

The Next Morning

Detective Javier Esposito did not sleep well last night. He wondered how Little Castle could be in Paris.

He was looking through flight records. That blonde "consultant" had predicted the girls might be out of the country. At the time, he thought she was trying to leverage her former CIA position to take over the case by making it an international crime. He didn't know at the time that she had become private sector as part of Carmichael Industries. He only knew her from a couple years ago, when her partner had shot him during a homicide investigation at what turned out to be a foreign criminal hideout. In his book, the people with Carmichael Industries couldn't be trusted because their methods were too heavy-handed.

It annoyed him to no end that the ex-spook had been right about the girls.

At first, he thought the consultants were here because of Castle. He was always infatuated with the spy stuff. He must have stupidly kept in touch with them after that accidental encounter a couple years ago. The big surprise was they were here because of Beckett, not Castle. It was official. The crazy had fully rubbed off. It only took a few months after they started rubbing in the bedroom. At least he hadn't had to deal with that type of thing for the previous four years.

The blonde ex-spook had recommended looking at small airfields for medical patients or caskets because, "It made sense." To Esposito, none of it made sense. He was going to ignore the suggestion, until Beckett made it an order. Apparently, this outsider was making the calls now.

At the desk behind Espo, his partner Detective Kevin Ryan was reviewing the farmhouse forensics and the witness deposition. He had tried following up on the abandoned vehicle they found the other night, but that was a dead end.

Beckett was focused on Castle virtually full time, trying to keep him calm. Unfortunately that meant their four-person team was down by two, only Javi and Kevin. Maybe that's why she pulled in outsiders. Sure, the FBI was here, but they heavily relied on statistics. It had been over 48 hours. After another couple days, those resources might go away, especially with this being an international case. With no ransom call, an assumption might be made about human trafficking and slave trade. Those weren't part of the FBI's mandate.

Esposito was going to do everything to make sure nothing happened to Alexis, even if it meant working with a couple of spies.

Just then, the detective saw the woman in question at the stairs. Daaaamn. She was coming back from the gym. Towel over her shoulder, tight blue top, spandex tight leggings that ended just above the calf, and blue, below-the-ankle chucks. Her skin had a slight sheen from the sweat of her workout. Espo knew he was ogling. The entire bullpen was. Well, maybe not Mr Married, Ryan. He mumbled something and forced his head down.

Too bad she was a spy. And she was married.

Behind the spy was Officer Ann Hastings, also coming back from the gym. Hastings was dressed much more conservatively, in simple red and black sweats. It looked like the two women had been working out together. That would have been something to see. Hastings was an ex-vigilante superhero, highly trained in several martial arts. The spy wouldn't have known what hit her.

Esposito recalled the home invasion video of that Sarah Walker and her husband a few years ago, effectively taking out everyone in the perps' den. The women were smiling and appeared to be in good spirits, but Hastings was the one favoring her left leg. Maybe a one-sided beatdown was not what happened in the gym. Walker went to talk to Beckett, so Esposito cornered Hastings in the break room.

"Don't tell me you let the blonde on stilts get the better of Lone Vengeance. Even Beckett can't take you down."

Hastings sighed and admitted, "Actually, I've been avoiding Detective Beckett. I know part of her is still a little pissed that I took that button off her last year at the crime scene after hours when I took it as LV. Several things worked to my advantage. I was able to surprise her in costume, she was still recovering a bit from a sniper bullet to the chest, and I used Castle as a diversion. I'm not certain a sparring rematch now would be friendly, and she is kinda my boss."

Ha. Lone Vengeance was scared of Beckett. Then again, Espo was a little scared of her too despite his special forces training. Still, he was sure he could take her. Well, mostly sure… "But what about the spy?"

"We didn't spar. Are you kidding? She'd kick my ass. I have a rep to maintain around here. Sarah was showing me this cool, over-the-top, downward kick, but I'm not sure I have the height for it. She and her husband have more natural height to use. Sure, I'm 5'9" too, but her husband is really tall and Walker is so flexible that she can bring her leg up at least a foot higher than I can.

"That's not what caused this," Hastings said, pointing to her ankle. "She was running an informal, impromptu class this morning for those in the gym who were interested. She's a certified trainer in three martial arts—a black belt in five. During the class, Sergeant Jennings showed up."

Jennings was ex-special forces like Esposito, but was also a college Division 1 wrestling national champion in the 90s. Espo liked to dream he could match up if it weren't for the fifty pound weight difference in Jenning's favor. Wrestlers leveraged every pound.

Jennings was also a bit of a tool.

Hastings continued, "You can imagine. Jennings made a rude comment about the usefulness of kickboxing. Sarah corrected him, calling it Muay Thai and then started to explain how it mixed well in a knife fight." That wouldn't have sat well. Jennings was a hot head, quick to take offense.

Hasting responded to Espo's look. "Yeah, they fought. This stupid ankle injury is because I didn't get out of the way fast enough when Sarah kicked him across the room, which happened to be towards me."

Esposito said with amazement, "The guy's got to be over twice her weight." Considering the size difference, Esposito was surprised she sent Jennings's body flying.

"I know. The injury was worth it, seeing him taken down a peg. Dickleman was there too."

Dickleman was Jennings' partner before the latter made sergeant. He was even bigger than Jennings, but without the technique. He was basically a brawler. He'd also been written up for misconduct a couple times. It certainly would have been more times without his partner covering for him.

"After round two, Dickle joined in. All the while, Sarah had been giving the class a running commentary about how to take-on a larger opponent. When Dickleman shoved her from behind, all bets were off. She leg-swept Jennings, rolled over Dickle's back to the wall where she kicked one of those chairs into kindling. Two sticks made instant weapons. After blocking a haymaker from each with her sticks, she spun them to create some separation. Dickleman was swearing up a storm, drowning out the lesson, so Sarah ended it by clocking Jennings with a projectile and knocking out Dickle with a kick to the head. It was glorious. Everyone cheered. I think a couple people took videos. I need to get a copy. Maybe Lone Vengeance can team up in the next issue of the comic. She doesn't always need to be 'alone.' I think a one-off team-up would be a fun story. Anyway, I gotta go, or I'll be late for my shift. Later, Espo."

Part of Esposito could admit to himself he was sorry he missed the show. Those two have been a black mark against the Twelfth Precinct since they transferred in a few years ago. How Jennings made Sergeant was anyone's guess.

The rest of the detective was thinking, why the hell was the spy running martial arts classes, not looking for Alexis?

The blonde spy was still talking to Beckett at her desk. Time to figure out what they are doing. As he approached, he heard Walker apologizing for coming down so hard on the jerks. She said that she always got edgy when Chuck was on a mission and that she was waiting for the general to be done with her meeting with the Secretary of Homeland Security, anyway. She didn't mean to take it so far. Beckett was about to respond when Ryan pushed his rolling chair down the hall, to her desk.

"Found something, Ryan?" Beckett asked.

"Well, it was like she said," Ryan tipped his notepad towards the spy, "medical transport with two patients."

"Did they land in Belgium?" This from Walker.

"Yes, how did you know?"

Beckett stood up and left. What would cause her to… Oh. Castle was back. She was doing the figurative and literal hand-holding on this case. Hopefully, Gates hadn't noticed. They were being a little too obvious. Castle was barely holding it together, and with his little session with one of the kidnappers yesterday, he had proven to be reckless. Not that enhanced interrogation wasn't warranted in Esposito's book, but in the future they needed his insight on the team without Gates throwing a fit.

When the spy realized what Beckett was doing, she answered Ryan's question, "Most of the private airfields near Paris have CIA or French intelligence watch dogs. The other ones tend to be controlled by local arms dealers and smugglers, a hassle the kidnappers wouldn't want. Even if they controlled the landing strip, they wouldn't want the risk of attention for something like this. Seventy years ago Hitler proved the Belgian-Franco border is wide open. That hasn't changed."

She asked, "Did they declare it as medical or funeral transport?"

"Uh, they declared it to be an angel mercy mission for the entrance to France: two young women on the way to a transplant surgery."

"That's how I would do it. Caskets can bypass any customs enforcement, but don't get bumped to the front of the line."

"Surveillance lost them in Paris after they switched vehicles." Ryan explained. "There are too many cars, and it is too much traffic camera footage to dig through."

"They've probably moved by now. Chuck's getting their current location anyway." Walker shrugged. "Who owned the plane?"

"A Russian oligarch named Usmanov who has been out of the country," Ryan answered. The spy nodded like that was expected.

"What's the connection of the Russian to El-Masri?" Esposito asked.

Ryan said, "There is none. His people didn't know the plane had left the hangar."

"They stole a plane for a kidnapping?" Esposito asked.

Ryan twisted his mouth and shrugged to say he guessed so.

The trail was cold.

Walker said, "I doubt that. Usmanov is wealthy and connected. He's a bit of a pushover for doing 'favors' for anyone, not wanting to create a fuss, but he also highly values discretion. A plane theft could end up too high profile, so it was probably a loaner they didn't want to admit. He'd loan a second plane to help find the kidnappers, but wouldn't let you know he knew anything about what was going on. It's not worth pursuing."

It was just as worthless as a cold trail.

Esposito returned to his desk, trying to busy himself by looking over the forensic report of the farmhouse, for the third time. The autopsy wasn't being done by the FBI and would take a few more hours for it to be done by the local department, even if it was marked high priority. He'd make sure Lanie would get a copy in case the locals or Feds missed anything.

The spy didn't look any busier than he felt. She was doing something on her tablet, but her indifference made Esposito almost certain she was scanning her Facebook updates.

A short while later, the El-Masris showed up at the station. They looked even more anxious than they had been yesterday. Agent Harris jumped up to usher them into a conference room. Gates joined them, saying on her way between her office and the conference room that there had been a ransom call. That spurred Beckett and Castle. The spy got up too, although she was more causally determined. Oh yeah. The case was international. She was in charge now. She knew they would wait for her.

Ryan joined him at the edge of his desk where he could look up at the conference room. They both wanted to be flies on the wall, but between Beckett, Castle, Harris, Gates, and the spy, the room was too crowded with alphas already.

A minute later they heard indiscernible yelling from Castle. The rooms were almost as sound proof as interrogation. Something had set him off.

After another minute, the door opened and the spy stepped out, shutting the door behind her. That was odd, maybe she had been sent out and wasn't really in charge.

Oh. She was taking a call.

Esposito and Ryan tried to look busy, like they weren't snooping, but no one who knew them would be fooled by their act. Beckett saw through it all the time. Their chances of fooling a spy were only slightly higher than fooling Beckett.

"You're where!?" That question from Walker was loud enough that the entire bullpen heard it.

"What are you doing, Chuck? I don't care if you regularly play Halo with him," she continued a little more softly but with just as much fire. "Call of Duty. Whatever. You can't trust him!"

Esposito thought his Chuck must play a lot of video games. She listened to Chuck for a while. She looked like she would crush the phone in her hand.

"They're doing the ransom exchange for the El-Masri girl. They said they are getting Alexis for the ransom too, but you know that's not really the case. Have you found Alexis yet?"

That was not good. She said the ransom was for Sara but not for Alexis. The El-Masris were loaded but Castle was rich too. What was going on?

"They say Alexis is part of the deal, but…"

She listened to another long ramble at the other end. Her anger had slipped to concern, then after a while, she was smirking and rolling her eyes. No, that wasn't a smirk. That was a genuine smile.

"Chuck."

"Chuck! I gotta go pick up our backup and call the General. Stay safe and don't miss your plane while you are nerding out. Love you. Bye."

The spy left without an explanation. She didn't even check-in with Beckett. Espo thought this made no sense.

Later in the day

"Make way! Make way! Lady Vengeance coming through."

Not knowing the voice, Esposito looked away from the report on the exact route the kidnappers had traveled from Belgium to Paris. Ryan and he both received a copy in their emails from Carmichael Industries a few minutes ago. The report was detailed, including speeds and kilometer markers down to the second. The speeds were conveniently converted to miles per hour for the American readers. The bad guys were always below the speed limit so they wouldn't be noticed along the way.

If Carmichael Industries knew this much, why didn't they just stop the kidnappers? The suspicious thing was the report ended right as the transport van left La Defense and entered Paris. It was already in an urban area and was tracked by traffic cameras. If the spies had hacked some French government highway monitoring system and the systems in several suburbs, wouldn't the city traffic cameras be easier? Not only that, but the last entry in the email log stopped in the middle, as if they were limiting information. Weren't they all on the same team?

Whatever the distraction, Espo needed the break. He saw two people wheeling a mounted TV by his desk.

"Quiet Morgan. I don't need the captain hearing something like that. I was lucky to keep my job." Despite the admonishment she gave, Hasting was grinning at the title. She might have dressed up as a superhero in the past, but quit after she had been caught doing her moonlighting activities. The source of the praise was a bearded man, about Esposito's height, doing a reckless job of steering the TV across the bullpen. He looked a little familiar, but Espo couldn't place him. The tech department must have a new man.

Hasting continued, "And it's Lone Vengeance…"

"Really? Sarah told me you were with your muse—ee. Sorry about the M-word. It slipped out. Anyway, It's hard to be alone for someone who is with someone."

"Yeah, I know. He gives me a hard time about that all of the time, but I retired and never had a chance to rebrand."

"You still need to have a name ready. You never know when LV might be needed in the city of New York again. Superheroes do it all the time. Robin became Nightwing. Jane became Phoenix. Lone Vengeance could be needed as something else."

"I'm already serving the city every day in the NYPD."

"Sure, but I'm talking as a superhero. How about 'Conqueror,' like 'William the?'"

The woman smirked. "You mean from the Battle of Hastings? Clever, but I don't think that's much of a secret name." She didn't completely blow it off though. "I'll run it by my guy. He does the naming. My vigilante days are done, but the character still lives in his stories."

They rolled into the conference room where the FBI was monitoring the ransom hand-off for Alexis and the El-Masri girl. They said it was both, not just Sara. Alexis was included in the trade too. Esposito was shut out because the room was already full. Why did they need another TV, and why did they get to be in there when he didn't? He wasn't having it so he got up to join them.

Right as he reached the door, Hastings stepped back out into the bullpen. "Hey, Javi. Aren't these Carmichael Industries guys great?"

That's where the bearded guy was from. The townhouse that Castle dragged them to a couple years ago. The place where he was shot. That guy was named Morgan, and he was there.

"What is it?" Officer Hastings asked. Esposito must not have schooled his features enough.

From behind him, a grinning Kevin Ryan said, "Javi doesn't like them that much, on the account of the fact they shot him."

Some partner. Traitor was more like it, he thought.

"Morgan? I don't buy it. He's a sweet guy. Couldn't harm anyone but himself."

Espo explained, "It was their big guy, Casey."

"Oh, I heard he was ex-marines and an NSA sniper. That makes more sense."

This surprised the detective. It sounded like he was lucky to survive. Snipers shot to kill, but he survived. Maybe they weren't that bad.

The conference room door reopened, and Morgan stepped out, bowing shortly to Officer Hastings, adding a little hand flourish. "Thank you again, Milady Vengeance. Go forth and render comfort and aid and justice and vengeance to the citizens of New York. But if need arrives again, please continue to rescue large screen TVs from closing elevator doors."

He quickly turned, running into the now closed conference room door. After some fumbling, he managed to get back through, re-shutting the door behind himself.

Hastings chuckled with a big grin. She liked the bearded man.

Not deterred, Esposito said, "Excuse me." and he entered.

The dark room was crowded with FBI officials, Castle, Beckett, the El-Masris, Gates, and Morgan. The FBI tech was manipulating a four-way split screen that most were focused on. It showed different angles of La Seine River in Paris, along with the riverwalk area and the famous bridges. The El-Masri cousin was there with a car and the ransom. The FBI tech was flipping the pictures between cameras to get better angles.

Walker wasn't even in the room. Apparently she had something better to do, so they were now stuck with Morgan.

In the Paris video feeds, the kidnappers' car showed up to make the exchange. A moment later, Morgan, the sole person focused on the other TV, said, "Oh dear."

Esposito looked over and saw a single picture of what looked like an overheard, satellite feed, showing heat signatures.

"There is only one hostage in the van," Morgan said.

Others were still focused on the FBI screen and the money exchange. Esposito saw a single warm spot in the back of the van where the kidnappers held their hostage.

The van drove off and others in the room were very concerned because their money and family member were not visible to a camera, under the bridge. There had been no sign of Sara or Alexis on the FBI's feeds. Castle was freaking out, to the point of exacerbation.

Esposito already knew what was going on. Many were relieved when Sara returned in frame with the rescuer who took her away safely. The heat signatures had shown where they were the entire time. Alexis was never there.

Morgan started packing up as the lights were turning on.

Beckett cut in, "Dr Morgan, what is it?"

Dr Morgan. Esposito had never heard that before. Castle wasn't surprised and also was tuned in for the response. They wanted him there.

Morgan said, "It was like we said. The exchange was just for Sara El-Masri. I'm glad she's safe, but I gotta go. I have my equipment, but can someone be helpful and wrangle this TV back to its origin? My woman is expecting a call and for me to be on a flight to the other side of the country. She's Casey's daughter, which is even more incentive to meet all of her expectations. Hang in there. Things are in the works. We'll be in touch."

That seemed to take even Castle and Beckett back a bit.

Morgan finished up and disappeared out the door.

"It looks like we are on our own," Castle said.

Carmichael Industries was gone. Without a new development, the FBI might be gone soon. It was up to Esposito's team at the NYPD.