Judas: Chapter 5

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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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10:35 a.m. West Coast Time on Thursday, April 26, 2012, at the Castles Complex in Sausalito, California

"So, you actually went out and followed her?" an astonished Dawn Harrison asks between bites of a glazed donut in the small cafeteria in the administration building on the campus. She wipes her mouth with the napkin before taking another smaller bite.

"Kind of ballsy, don't you think," she continues.

"Not at all," Richard Castle smiles. "I'm not crazy. I had Lindy next to me the entire time."

Heads nod at the circular table where Richard Castle, Kate Beckett, Mike Monroe and Dawn Harrison sit, munching on late breakfast snacks. Lindy Matthews stands at the coffee island, pouring a cup of the hot, life-giving liquid before returning to her seat at the table with her friends. It is a table for four, so having five sitting there means close quarters for everyone.

"So, again . . . what's your take on this?" Dawn asks the group at large.

"There is something about her that is off," Castle begins.

"She is a soldier," Lindy adds. "I know when I am looking at a soldier. She is a soldier. A formidable one, at that."

"Yet she shows up here, with cuts and bruises from her boyfriend?" Mike Monroe comments, questioningly.

"You never know the situation," Kate interjects. "We don't know what happened, so –"

"No one can sneak up on me and do that type of damage," Lindy remarks. "And trust me, I don't believe anyone could do that to her either. It was like looking into a mirror and seeing a reflection of myself."

"That's kind of hot," Mike Monroe mutters with a smile.

"Oh, so this is public news now?" Castle chuckles, getting a soft kick in the shin from Kate Beckett, who sits beside him sipping her cup of coffee.

"Anyone who has eyes and is paying attention will find this to be old news, Rick," Mike replies, placing his hand along the thigh of Lindy Matthews, who sits next to him. The warrior places her head along the large black man's shoulder. Richard Castle cannot stifle a chuckle, seeing his fiercest member in such a soft and vulnerable position.

"Don't say it," Lindy comments without looking at anyone in particular, bringing a round of chuckles from the table.

"Seriously, though, I want everyone on their toes, and keeping an eye on our newest resident," Monroe continues. "She is not who she portrays herself to be."

"Likely a plant then," Kate remarks.

"That's my take as well," Lindy agrees.

"But why?" Kate asks. "What could one person hope to do here, with everyone we have here?"

"No offence, Kate," Lindy begins, "But think – for a moment – about the damage I could do here, on my own, if that were my intention."

The room is quiet for a moment as the table of friends considers her words. Dawn is the first to speak up.

"How do we know what her intentions are, then?" Dawn asks.

"We don't," Mike Monroe responds. "Which is why we have to be even more vigilant than normal."

"I never expected anything like this," Richard Castle muses aloud to no one in particular.

"But we did," Mike offers. "And in reality, you did too, Rick. That's why we are here. That's why you brought us here. Maybe not for this exact scenario, but for something like this."

"True," Castle agrees.

"And I'm sure you never expected anything like a full-scale military style assault either, when you built this place," Dawn offers.

"You didn't foresee a massive sex trafficking scenario," she continues.

"Or a death-mimicking drug," Kate sadly muses, almost under her breath.

The table is quiet for a moment as everyone collects their thoughts.

"So, she gets free reign, but I want eyes on her at all times," Mike declares, concluding the meeting. Everyone stands except Castle, who pulls out his phone, glancing at the incoming message.

"Problem?" Kate asks, pulling her purse along her shoulder.

"Not at all," he replies. "Just mother, checking in to see how Alexis is doing after her little – and I quote – adventure."

Kate joins the man she loves in laughter as he pulls his large frame up from the chair. He immediately retrieves his car keys from his pants pockets, grabbing her hand as he walks toward the door.

"Are we going somewhere?" she asks, glancing at the time on her watch.

"I am," he replies. "I know you and Samantha have an 11 o'clock session with the ladies here. I have to run an errand."

"Oooh, so secretive," she purrs with a smile.

"Nothing so dramatic or romantic, unfortunately," he tells her. "If memory serves . . . well, bad choice of words, since my memory clearly no longer serves me all that well . . . Be that as it may, I believe I owe one Samuel Carlos twelve thousand and five hundred dollars. I'm running to the bank to get a cashiers check. I'm sure the man doesn't take checks."

Both laugh as he walks toward the main front entrance of the administration building, still holding hands.

"I cannot wait to tell him that you refer to him as Samuel," she laughs out loud.

"If you value our future together, that will remain our little secret," he laughs with her.

"Seriously though, Rick," she continues. "You told him that you'd get it to him in –"

"I paid him the first half last week, babe, " he interrupts. "I told Sam I'd call him in a week. A week was yesterday. Friendships aside, I don't want to give Sam any reason to think he cannot trust me. That he cannot trust us."

Kate simply nods her head. Yes, Sam Carlos is a friend. But the man is also a businessman. A businessman who does not tolerate tardy behavior. It is not something either of them are anxious to test.

"You haven't even told Cynthia what you are doing . . . what you have done," she remarks.

"Why stress her out any more than she is," he replies. "When I built this place, my goal was to do anything necessary to help a woman recover. Sometimes that is going to cost me a little money. After all the money put into this place, Twelve and a half thousand dollars isn't something I am going to worry about."

"Magnanimous of you," she offers, placing a kiss on his cheek, rising to her toes to reach his face.

"Pragmatic," he offers. "The obvious solution is often the easiest."

"Shades of Occam here," she smiles. "But at some point, I assume you are going to tell her what you've done?"

"My plan is to tell her today, once the ledger with Sam has been cleared," he replies, smiling. "That way, she knows she will be safe once she leaves this place . . . since she won't have Sam, or her husband to worry about."

"True," Kate agrees. "Well, I have to get going. The meeting is going to start and – speaking of tardiness – our friend Samantha isn't a fan of it either."

"Must be the name," he laughs, pulling her in tightly for a long hug. "These 'Sams' and their peculiarities."

Both chuckle as he releases her, a peck on the lips as he walks to the door.

"Rick, be –"

"Don't even say it, Kate," he tells her, not looking back. He opens the door to the administration building, and stepping out, walks briskly toward the sports car parked in the front area. He is already deep in thought.

"Cynthia won't have anything to worry about, for certain," he thinks to himself, "but that doesn't mean everything will be ok. The sheer trauma she has gone through demands some type of counseling."

Hoping that Cynthia Romaines will decide to continue to stay at the complex, he opens the car door, sliding his large frame into the small sportster, his mind now navigating toward Sam Carlos.

He starts the engine, putting the car in reverse. Backing out, puts the car into drive, and slowly pulls out toward the front gate, immediately noticing the yellow cab that is approaching the security gate.

The front gate opens for him as he exits on the right side, while the cab pulls to a stop on the left side of the security gate. Driving slowly, he can barely make out the figure of a woman in the back seat. Her head is lowered, as if hiding. His heart sinks, as he sees the two smaller figures in the back seat with her.

Suddenly, everything he is doing, everything he has gone through, once again, is worth it, as the universe gives him another glimpse of why this place exists.

"Sam can wait," he tells himself, pulling out his phone as he executes a perfect U-turn and pulls up behind the cab at the entry point.

He punches the contact for Sam Carlos, and waits two rings before he is rewarded.

"Richard," Carlos answers. "How are you doing this fine morning?"

"I am good, Sam," Castle answers. "I was headed to the bank to get your cashiers check for Cynthia's remaining amount. But we have a new resident just checking in as I was leaving. I will try and get to the bank before it closes, but it may be Monday now."

Sam Carlos smiles, nodding his head on the other end. Once again, Richard Castle has proven his trustworthiness. A day late, yes, but it isn't as though the man has been lying around with nothing to do.

"No need to rush, Richard," Carlos tells him. "I know you have much on your plate right now. And you have demonstrated trustworthiness. Get it to me when you can."

"Wow . . . that is . . . thank you, Sam," Castle replies with gratitude. It's not the money. It is taking the time, going to the bank, all of that. No longer having to do that this morning is a relief to Richard Castle.

"I appreciate it very much," he tells the San Francisco crime lord.

"And I appreciate you, my friend," Carlos replies. "Let's talk this weekend. No business. Just catching up."

"Where?" Castle asks.

"How about your place, again," Sam offers. "If you don't mind me offering your home, that is."

"You know how to get here," Castle replies. "Just give us a heads up."

"I will do that, my friend," Carlos tells him. "And Richard . . . thank you again."

Carlos disconnects, leaving Richard Castle smiling at his phone. He is getting used to Carlos' phone etiquette, or lack thereof.

Sam Carlos, however, has already put the phone conversation behind him. He stares out the window from his Presidio home, enjoying the line of trees that bring him such comfort. Taking a deep breath, he turns his attention to the visitor who sits on his couch. Sitting next to the visitor is one Willie Crockett, who clearly brings discomfort to the visiting man.

"So, Mr. Simmons, I appreciate you flying cross-country on such short notice," Sam Carlos begins. "I must admit, your call last night surprised me."

"Well," Vulcan Simmons smiles, "It is obvious that your man here did me a solid earlier this week. I just want to return the favor."

Willie Crockett simply smiles at his boss, who nods his head in agreement. When Willie Crockett decided to spare Simmons' life, while making it appear he went down with his ship, he knew it would pay dividends someday. That 'someday' has come so quickly is a surprise to both Crockett and the man he works for.

Sam Carlos pulls a chair across from his right-hand man and their visitor and sits, eager to hear what the man flew across the country to tell them.

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A/N: Thank you to all of you, for the kind words of support, and for your incredible and indescribable patience. I hope to make it worth your while.