Posted 4 Feb 2019
A/N: For those that don't remember but might care a little, this chapter starts after the very end of the Castle 5.15, "Target." This story still assumes parts of Castle's early Paris experiences/misadventures in 5.16, "Hunt," still happen, but much of the rest is very different. You don't have to remember what happened to Castle. Enough of the changes will be filled-in.
Martha had reached her limit. It was all too much for her.
Her transatlantic call to her son confirmed her fear. He was in Paris.
What was Richard thinking, flying to Paris to rescue Alexis? He didn't even know where his daughter was. Playing cop was bad enough. Playing Derrick Storm would get him killed. At least he should have taken Katherine as backup. She could've protected him.
She looked at Katherine, but the detective was staring a hole through the phone Martha was holding, stuck almost in shock. Rick had just told her he was at the precinct with the detective. She had come to the apartment to find him. His passport was gone, so clearly he went to Paris to find Alexis.
"Katherine, you need to go after him."
The detective looked up but didn't school her expression quickly enough to fool an expert on the craft of acting. She wanted to project calm and control. Martha saw the flicker, though. She recognized the moment was like when one of her students forgot a line. Katherine wasn't panicked about forgetting a line. This was about Richard.
"Martha, why does he think he can find her?"
"He has a contact in the French government. It's from one of his books."
"Unholy Storm," Katherine recalled.
Martha couldn't prevent the corners of her mouth lifting slightly despite the circumstance, because Katherine was such a big fan of her son's writing. She had always assumed Richard's early assertions were unfounded boasting when he started shadowing her. The remains of that assumption completely fell apart when she'd caught the younger woman sneaking his first editions off the shelves after a recent "sleepover."
"Maybe the French government will give him the runaround until you can get to him," Martha suggested.
The detective worried her lower lip. There must be something about that novel that bothered her. Martha never could keep the Derrick Storm books straight. She wasn't sure she wanted to know, but the other woman knew.
"I'll find the next flight," Martha decided. She walked to the study to make a call. She doubted her family's travel agent was working this late, but it was an emergency. The agent could at least help her get through the online website quickly.
"No, Martha. He has too much of a head start. I'd lose two days flying out there and trying to find him, if he'd even talk to me. I need to work the case from here, and find clues that will help."
Martha hesitated on the call button, when the door knocked, causing her thumb to jump. She glanced down and saw she had hit the call cancel button. She'd have to find that number again.
Katherine was closer, so she answered the door. Martha had been expecting the next FBI shift, relief for the tech team in her dining room. Behind the door was something Martha wasn't expecting. In the hallway stood a tall woman, blonde hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. She was dressed in matted black, from a snug leather jacket to high-heeled boots. She carried a large duffel, slung over her shoulder.
"Sarah! Where have you been? Castle couldn't wait any longer and went to Paris on his own." At least Kathrine knew her.
"I know." She confidently walked past the detective, slid her duffel out of the way, next to the front closet, and walked over to the two FBI techs at the dining room table. "You two need to leave. Now."
The men didn't react, not knowing how to respond to the command. Maybe the computer geeks were just shocked the beautiful woman was acknowledging them. They had been a little tongue tied around Katherine earlier.
"Don't make me make it an order. For me, that involves brandishing a weapon." Sarah's voice was level and serious. From her demeanor, Martha was certain Sarah wasn't acting. Where a weapon was hiding in that ensemble was beyond Martha.
"Sarah, what is going on?" Katherine asked, full of concern. Her right hand edged to her holster. Martha's hands lifted to cover her mouth.
"Stand down, Detective, unless you're backing me up. This mission was just green-lighted, and these men don't have clearance for operational details."
This 'Sarah' was done waiting and pulled a gun from…somewhere. Martha's hands couldn't hold in her gasp.
Beckett's hand was on her service weapon, but for some reason she was hesitating. Instead she said, "I don't know what you've been doing, but you can't just come in here and threaten two FBI agents."
"Why not? I'm not threatening them anyway. If I was, I'd use a real gun or a knife. A well placed stab wound is threatening but non-lethal. This is just a tranq gun." While still holding the gun pointed at the agents, Sarah pulled out her cell and said, "Call Agent Harris. Speakerphone."
The voice recognition worked for her. Martha never could manage it. After a couple rings, "Harris."
"Agent Harris," Sarah said sweetly, with a touch of irritation, "I'm at Richard Castle's home, and who do I find?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot to notify them."
"You can order them to clear out now, or I can tranq them then leave them unconscious in the alley for eleven and a half hours." That was specific
"There's no need—"
"We're already running late because of the unprofessional behavior you showed in our last conference, and I don't have time to deal with any more inter-agency bureaucracy. Alexis Castle doesn't have the time. We know there are dozens of security holes in FBI communications, and I have personal experience with far too many double agents in the ranks."
"Hold on a minute. I won't let you insinuate—"
"A young woman's life is at stake. I know you think you did the best you could with the resources you had, but this situation is now above your pay grade. How did the General put it?"
"Well, um…"
"Do I need to waste more time, conferencing her in to remind you? It's late, and I know from experience how she gets during emergency wake-up calls. She might be head of the DNI, but she takes my calls to her personal line at all hours."
"No. Uh, she said the case is no longer in our jurisdiction, and well, you know."
Sarah finished for him, "You should back off and let the professionals handle it from here." Martha was impressed Sarah didn't even smirk. A line like that deserved a smirk.
"Which is completely unfair. We're working with French authorities—"
"Agent Harris, please continue to do that, as you were ordered. We don't want to tip off the kidnappers. They likely have sources in the French government as well as the US government. These aren't amateurs. If you suddenly stopped, they would know something was different. However, I am here to discuss operational details with Detective Beckett—"
"Why does she have clearance?" the Agent interrupted.
"The operation has been compartmentalized. General Beckman has approved my need to know list, and you are not on it. She is."
"Once we get approval from the French government—"
"It's too bad my other partner isn't here to give you his opinion of the French. Do you really want to rely on the state department instead of… What else did the General call us?"
Agent Harris hesitated before squeezing out, "The world's best hostage extraction team. Fine. Guys, grab your equipment and clear out."
Somehow Sarah still wasn't smirking, but one of the FBI techs was. Sarah said, "They can go out for coffee and come back for their equipment in fifteen minutes."
Harris protested, "It will only take a few minutes—"
The computer guy who thought the situation was funny found his voice, "Sir, we can come back."
The other, who still looked scared, added, "I really don't wanna be shot."
Agent Harris audibly sighed. "Whatever. Call me when you get to the coffee shop across the street."
Sarah lowered her gun, and the two men scurried out. Only after the door shut did Sarah slide her gun into the back of her waistband. She didn't seem to need a holster.
Sarah smiled by way of apology and turned to Beckett and then Martha.
"Sorry about that scene. My husband normally takes care of these types of things. His babbling normally gets people to leave because they don't understand and are scared of Casey or my silent, but menacing, act from the back. Sometimes he simply convinces them to not start World War 3.
She walked over to her bag by the door and then pulled out a tablet.
Kate still hadn't removed her hand from her holster, but the blonde woman didn't seem concerned. Kate finally said, "Sarah, when I asked for you to help on this case, I didn't mean for you to disappear, drop Dr Morgan on us at the precinct, and then threaten the FBI off of the case."
"Don't worry, Detective, we know what we're doing. But why did you just call him Dr Morgan?" Not waiting for an answer, she swiped across the screen a few times and then held up the screen so the other women could see. "That reddish blob is Alexis."
The infrared splotch moved slightly on the screen.
"Oh my God. So she is alive? Where is she? Why don't you contact the police?" Martha asked as she slowly extended her hand towards the screen.
"She's still in Paris, but under heavy guard. The French authorities cannot help," Sarah answered. "Extracting her is going to take what we would call 'finesse.'"
"My son is going to get himself killed trying to rescue her."
"Don't worry, Ms Rodgers. That's not going to happen. We know exactly where your son is. We cloned his phone. So far, he doesn't know where Alexis is."
Beckett asked, "Why didn't you stop him from getting on the plane?"
"Chuck argued that we shouldn't try to stop a father from going after his daughter, and I didn't have the power to arrest Mr Castle."
"But you can pull guns on FBI agents?"
"Shooting people is less paperwork than arresting them. Besides, now I do have the power. I wasted a couple hours getting this case classified as a national security issue and a couple more obtaining a green light for a privately run black op. This sort of thing was a lot easier when I was in the CIA. Then again, we didn't pick our own missions and had to go rogue too often when we had to rescue family and friends in situations like this."
She's a CIA agent. Well, former agent. That explained a lot. "How are you protecting my son when you are here?"
"Chuck, that's my other partner and my husband, will be landing in Paris soon."
"Why didn't Chuck go with Castle?" Beckett asked.
"Chuck was overseas, securing Alexis's location, dealing with that electronic back-trace problem at the source, where the FBI couldn't go. I was dealing with the local FBI and prepping the mission. Chuck will make sure Castle stays out of trouble until backup arrives."
"Backup?"
"You and me. Get your passport and pack a bag." Sarah punctuated the order with a snap of the tablet case's lid.
"There aren't any more flights until the morning," Katherine said. Martha looked at the clock. She was right. It was after midnight. They'd miss any red-eye flights and would have to catch the first flight in the morning.
"In addition to dealing with the bureaucracy, I arranged transport."
"A charter?" Martha suggested. Her son had done that a couple times. She never liked it because too many famous people died in small aircraft crashes. This flight would be across an ocean. Hopefully, it would be a bigger plane.
"Something like that," Sarah answered. "We're in a hurry and still have a long flight, so I'll explain the mission details en route. Sorry, Ms Rodgers, you are not need-to-know either, at least at that depth, but I don't threaten civilians or the family of clients. For now, Beckett, you need to get your passport, pack the essentials, and change your clothes." Sarah withdrew an outfit from the duffel and handed it to the detective.
At least Detective Beckett was invited. She'd look out for Martha's family. Katherine said, "We're probably going to need to go back to my apartment. I don't have a lot here. My passport is there."
Sarah's confidence faltered for the first time since she walked in the door. "You don't live here?"
"Of course not. Castle and I just got together."
"I know, but isn't this place nicer than yours?" Sarah was genuinely confused.
Martha felt obligated to stick up for the other woman. "Katherine is a strong, independent woman, and she is welcome to come and go and stay as she pleases. I'm sure my son would agree."
The police detective said, "The NYPD doesn't officially allow partners to be together so I still live in my apartment."
Sarah shrugged and said, "I was investigated for similar reasons before Chuck and I were even together. I doubt you were ever more independent than I was. I've been told my CIA file screamed 'loner,' but I started storing weapons at Chuck's place almost immediately after we met and had a go-bag there a few months later, although I guess that shouldn't count. I moved in with Chuck a couple weeks after we became official. It's hard to image because Chuck isn't pushy, but he must be pushier than Castle." Kate stopped a snort at that comment. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. We should go to your place now. We've already wasted too much time."
Kate and Sarah started at the door, the latter grabbing the duffel, but Martha stopped them, "Um Katherine, don't go. Your passport is here."
"What? Why?" she asked. Sarah dropped the bag with a thud
"Richard mentioned that trip to Bora Bora."
"And I said I'd have to see if I could get the time off."
"But he thought he might have to twist your arm, so he—"
"Stole my passport!" Katherine went to the same drawer where Martha had earlier checked for Castle's passport.
Martha said, "It's not there. He knew when you figured it out, you'd try to take it back, so he put it in his safe. He said something about looking forward to you trying to get the combination out of him."
Katherine blushed a little at the comment before composing herself. "His safe. Can you get in?"
"It's not in the family one. That's where we keep my jewelry, family legal documents, and some emergency funds for bail and, you know, shopping. He put your passport in the safe where he keeps the extreme emergency funds, the keys to the Ferrari, and the good scotch." Alexis might have that combination, because that responsible college freshman would stay away from the scotch. Martha's son knew his mother was less reliable and wouldn't give it to her.
Sarah stepped around the duffel and walked straight to the study. She had guessed easily where the safe was.
"Kate, pack up anything you have here while I open the safe. I have most of the mission clothes you'll need. Agency undergarments are always either too uncomfortable or too sexy for a mission. I recommend wearing your own shoes—much more comfortable. Makeup and toiletries might be a good idea too."
"I have some of that here." She headed off to the bedroom.
Martha followed Sarah to the study. Sarah took only a couple seconds to survey the room before walking directly to the framed picture behind the desk. She quickly swept the sides and bottom edge of the frame. Finding nothing, she carefully lifted out the bottom edge before stopping and looking back at Martha, "Any alarms? I forgot that you would probably know."
"No alarms. Richard has a source for one of his books who used to be an art thief. He advised us of what kind of safe to get, but he said any alarms past the doors and windows would be pointless."
"And you believed his choice wasn't something he could crack?" Sarah set the frame off to the side, revealing the safe.
"Well, he and I, well," Martha circled her hands in the air, "you know."
"I'm sure he could still get in. Most safes are crackable by ex-professional art thieves," Sarah said while attaching her cell phone to the safe. She pressed the screen a few times and waited.
The safe clicked.
"And by ex-spies." Sarah smiled and turned the handle. Inside, the money had been cleared out, and the scotch was lower than the last time Martha had seen it. Sarah withdrew the passport, checked it, closed the safe, and rehung the picture.
That was too easy. Maybe another alarm would be a good idea. It would add a second or two.
Sarah said, "It was easy enough to talk my way past the doorman. After what happened with that serial killer last fall, you really should upgrade your security in case he comes back."
"You know about that?"
Sarah shrugged nonchalantly.
"But he's dead. My son shot him."
"Falling into a river is a great way to fake your death. I had an ex do that once," Sarah said matter-of-factly. "He tried to kill me again a couple months later so he obviously wasn't dead. We've had this argument with Detective Beckett already. I thought your son agreed with us."
Apparently, Richard had been hiding some things from her. That was just as well. Knowing he was playing cop was bad enough without knowing all of the details.
Sarah cut across the study to the bedroom. Martha followed. She still wasn't completely sure why this ex-CIA agent was here, but she seemed to know a lot of what was happening and was definitely confident. In the bedroom, Katherine had just finished changing into a white blouse with pilot's shoulder bars, a long black tie, and a short navy skirt. "I'm not supposed to fly a plane, am I?" she asked.
"No. I'll do that. It's just your cover." When Katherine still looked confused, Sarah offered, "I'll explain on the way. Here's your passport. Do you have navy heels here?"
"Just slippers, running shoes, black leather boots, black stilettos, and—"
The spy smiled. "You don't live here, huh?"
"That's a drop in the bucket. Most of my coats are at my apartment, too."
Sarah disappeared into the closet. "Sure. I lived out of a suitcase for eight months after moving in with Chuck and used the CIA wardrobe-a-tron even after our engagement. Never give up extra closet space until it's absolutely necessary. I only stopped using the wardrobe at our spy base because the operation was shut down when we left the CIA." She tossed a pair of white sneakers out into the room. "Those running shoes are too bright. Wear the pumps; pack the highest leg dark boots." She handed the heels and boots to the detective, somehow not noting the heels were stilettos, impractical for a trip. "Do any have any with reinforced toes or platforms?"
"Platforms would be too much. I'm already 5'9" before these."
"Chuck has over 6 inches on me, so we like the platforms. Plus with spike heels, it's hard to get the rotational speed. The platforms serve as clubs."
"I guess that explains those boots." Martha had noticed Sarah's heels were even higher than what Katherine sometimes wore.
"There are knives in the toes of most of my boots and some other shoes. The heal works as a weapon too. Just ask Morgan sometime."
"Ah. Why am I wearing this if you're the pilot?" Kate asked, pointing to the outfit she wore.
"You're the magnet," Sarah said as if that was an explanation. Seeming satisfied with Kate's suitcase, the ex-spy turned to Martha. "Ms Rodgers, we're going to go into communication blackout for at least the next 18 hours. We'll let you know as soon as Alexis is extracted and it's safe to talk."
Martha asked, "Could I keep that tablet thing so I can see she is ok?"
"Sorry, but leaving it behind would be a security risk."
Martha didn't like the idea of being out of the loop for that long, but at least they knew where Alexis was and were going to get her.
"You take care of this woman, and my son and granddaughter," she tried to say to Sarah with as much assertiveness as she could find. Martha then pulled a surprised Katherine into a hug.
"They'll be ok. We'll do anything for friends and family." Sarah headed out into the hallway.
"Are you sure about this woman?" Martha asked her son's partner.
"She's my best chance of getting to Castle before he does something stupid without backup. Forty-eight hours just became less than fifteen. Martha, I'll do everything I can to bring him and Alexis back," Katherine said quietly into her hair before pulling back and collecting her bag.
The door shut and they were gone.