Chapter 17
"Jordan!" Castle grinned before lowering his voice. "Jordan. It's so good to see you."
She managed a thin-lipped smile in reply, nodding toward the sleeping girl and the man on the other two cots. "This is my husband, David, and our daughter, Kaitlin."
"Jordan, what's going on?" Beckett asked, and the other woman frowned.
"I'm sure you know as much as I do," she said. "Although if you've just been brought in… did you really manage to stay out of sight for the last two months?"
"Two months?" Castle asked. "That you've been here, you mean?"
"Yes." Jordan frowned. "Where have you been?"
"We, uh-" Castle hesitated, glancing at Beckett, and she dipped her head, encouraging him to continue. "We just got here. To, uh- to 2016, I mean-"
"You what?" Jordan's husband was sitting up before Castle could finish his sentence. "I mean, we heard rumors, but-"
"Rumors?" Kate asked. Further along the hall she heard the clank of metal as one of the guards started moving toward them, and David nodded to their cots.
"Lie down," he said, and Beckett shuffled onto her own cot obediently, squeezing her eyes closed as the guards drew closer, daring to peek as they passed.
In her more dramatic moments she'd thought of the cabin as a prison.
She'd been wrong.
Then again, maybe this wasn't prison; it was hell.
The eerie swish of metal joints made their way up to the other end of the room, and Beckett watched as Jordan and David relaxed. Kaitlin stirred, and Jordan reached out a hand, stilling the girl. Castle sat up, leaning in toward the others, and Beckett remained still, flat on her back. Just a few hours ago she'd been curled up with Castle, and now…
Houghton's plan seemed more absurd with each passing minute.
"Rumors?" Castle asked, echoing Kate's earlier question, and Jordan and David leaned in, nodding.
"They say there's a resistance. They say we're fighting back. We know- we know some people. We've been hesitant, until now, to get involved. We have Katie to think about-" Beckett closed her eyes, memories of her own parents calling her Katie ringing in her ears, "-but if you know something… well, we know someone."
"Someone? Let's go."
"Not so fast," Jordan cautioned them. "Everything is monitored in here. We can't just walk over to their cots any more than we can walk out of here."
"About that." Castle cleared his throat. "That's… exactly what we plan to do. We have someone waiting for us on the outside."
Houghton paced as she waited. Being machine, not man, was supposed to afford her the luxury of patience, but at this point, she had to wonder: how human was she?
More than III-47RC, of that she was certain.
But as anxiety flooded her veins, pulled her nerve-like wires to the fray, she had to wonder; had he been better off than she was? Was being reprogrammed such a good thing? Knowing one's mission, without the influence of human emotion was surely safer, a more reliable and trustworthy method of intelligence. After all, that was the problem with humankind in the first place, one of many reasons machines had evolved to be superior; their whimsy and flights of fancy had no place in the twenty-first century.
Facts mattered, and if that meant the human race needed to die out or - at best - be enslaved, well, she mused, maybe her kind had it right.
Except, they didn't, because as her heart pounded in her metal chest, the battery keeping her body conscious and able, she could only see Castle, and she shuddered as she strained against her programming.
'Save Richard Castle' was stupidly at odds with 'bring Richard Castle into the future, along with Kate Beckett and Alexis Castle'.
If there were awards for the most poorly hacked machine, whoever had infiltrated the system the day she had connected to it would no doubt be a recipient.
She sighed, reaching the end of the alleyway in which she was laying low, turning to walk in the other direction again, her mind still at odds with itself.
She envied III-47RC, the simplicity his programming had afforded him, but was grateful that she'd not walked his path, was resolute in her devotion to Richard Castle even as she seethed with jealousy toward - not just toward the machine she and Beckett had killed in the precinct - but the many others who spent their days obeying their programming, unconflicted.
Conflicted.
She snorted softly, hating herself for the agony the word sent through her.
She really was more human than machine, wasn't she?
"So we have these," Castle whispered, pulling the blueprints Houghton had given him from his pocket. "These are from this building, that's our escape route. And these-" he held up more papers, "-are the blueprints everyone needs to memorize. Plans for reverse engineering time travel, the machines, their network plans… everything."
The small group nodded obediently. Jordan and David had introduced them to three people who claimed to have contacts on the outside; Trista, Clay and Jack. More than that, the three of them - in particular Trista, claimed to be engineering geniuses. Castle handed the sheets of paper around before shuffling over to Beckett and nudging her.
"You okay?"
"Just want this to be over."
"Me too." He managed a small smile and she returned it, but the upturn of her lips didn't reach her eyes, fear still filling her expression. "When it's over," he started, "we should… celebrate."
She huffed out a sigh, but nodded. "Old Haunt with the boys? You buying?"
He nodded, bringing his hand up to his face and scrubbing it across his forehead. Not exactly the celebrating he had in mind - the memory of her thigh pressed against his as they'd shared coffee this afternoon lingered - but if that was what she was offering…
He wouldn't refuse.
Maybe they'd never be what he wanted them to be. Maybe they weren't destined to be Nikki and Rook; he couldn't write their happy ending, couldn't force a thing.
But he could - and had already done so - forgive her for running this summer. They could be partners again.
She nudged back into him, stretching her arms out in front of her and brushing a hand against his knee before returning them to her lap, her cheeks pink.
Maybe, he thought, the smile on his lips a little more genuine now, he didn't need to force a thing.
Whatever needed to happen would happen.
"Let's move, people."
Beckett smiled, the stretch of her mouth unfamiliar and awkward, as she watched Jordan Shaw direct the team.
In contrast to the polished FBI agent she'd met years ago, well dressed in suits that screamed sexy, this was a different woman; Jordan's hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, the long unwashed strands united by a single hair tie. Her sweatpants were faded, holes in the knees, and her sweater threadbare.
Yet she was relentless, her drive and command of the situation every bit as intoxicating as it had been then.
Reluctant as she'd been to fall with Castle into the cult of Shaw admiration, this time round she had no such reservations.
The woman was electric.
The team they'd formed - ragtag if anything - took off at a slow sprint, their footfall silent as they moved down the dark corridor.
The hall intersected, and Jordan held up a hand to stop everyone as she looked around the corner, clearing their path before directing them, as per the floor plan, toward the right.
This side of the building housed offices that Beckett presumed locked; Jordan had clarified their use as they'd poured over the blueprints. Indeed, there was machinery in there, and only the third generation machines ever entered. But those who were assigned to city clean up, such as David, walked these halls on a daily basis and he'd assured them their path would be clear at this time of night.
From there, Jordan and Castle had devised a plan, figuring out the quickest way to get into the emergency stairwell, down a flight of stairs to the kitchen, and then through the window that Houghton had assured them would be open.
The team continued on, Beckett forcing her limbs to keep moving as the now familiar sound of the guards echoed up the hall. Ahead of her, Jordan reached the stairwell, opening the door. Silence reigned, and Beckett closed her eyes for a half-second as she counted their blessings so far. Whatever the hell Houghton had done to make sure the alarm didn't go off had worked. Jordan ushered the team forward, their footsteps audible now as they bounced off concrete, no longer silenced by the soft linoleum.
The clang increased as the guards drew closer, and Beckett filed after Alexis, stilling as Jordan followed her, closing the door behind them all before the robots made it around the corner.
So far, so good.
Opening the door to the second floor was a different story, five machines in plain sight, their backs turned.
"Run," Jordan instructed, her voice still low and controlled as she pointed in the direction of the kitchen. David ran, Kaitlin in his arms and Alexis on his tail, Clay, Trista and Jack behind them while Beckett drew her weapon. Beside her, Jordan and Castle did the same. Beckett found herself missing the weight of the many guns she'd walked in with; a single weapon in her hand now that she'd shared out the spares she'd been allocated at the precinct felt nothing like enough.
The machines hadn't seen them yet, but it wouldn't be long and she edged down the hallway. If they could just get to the kitchen-
One of the machines turned, and she closed her eyes for a split second, anticipating the gun fire before the first shot rang out. Forcing herself to open her eyes, she stared at the enemy as they approached, their pace steady and unhurried. Between them, they had enough fire power to take down one or two machines, but not a building full, so she needed to focus.
"Grenade," Castle whispered, and she swallowed, her hands shaking as she pulled her only other weapon from her back pocket. "You got this," he urged, and she nodded, pulling the pin and tossing it down the corridor before turning and running.
She heard the blast as Jordan slammed the kitchen door shut, and she followed the group; Alexis and David were out of sight already, Clay's feet disappearing as he slid out the window and onto the fire escape, Trista and Jack close behind him. "Go, go," Jordan urged them, and Castle waved her forward. She swung her leg over the window frame, grimacing as she twisted and the scar on her side pulled.
All the adrenalin in the world was not enough to let her forget she was recovering from a bullet wound and open heart surgery. Castle's eyes flickered with worry as he opened his mouth to speak but she shook her head, sliding the rest of the way out.
"I'm fine," she spat at him as he and Jordan followed her, and they clambered down the flimsy metal stairs, all attempts at silence long gone.
"Come on," Jack called, holding a car door open, and they squished into a Crown Vic, nine people plus a machine driving it way too many in the cramped space.
Houghton took off, the car's tires squealing in protest as she peeled away, and the gunfire started for real.
A/N: thanks, you guys! x