Disclaimer: I own pie. Not that that has any relation to this story. But I don't own anything with respect to this story, so...
Chapter 9
New York
Castle stands in the center of the ballroom, dressed to the nines in a tux, his beautiful date on his arm. He leans over to whisper in her ear, and then leaves her to go get some drinks.
Castle has always thought he'd want to be in the center of a Derrick Storm novel. Now that he is, all he wants to do was go home and eat ice cream. Not a very super-spy thought, but he doesn't feel much like a super-spy, even with the tuxedo. Though he doesn't mind the looks he gets from the women in the ballroom that could pass for Bond girls. Though, why should he care? He's dating a Bond girl. Sleeping with a Bond girl. Something... with a Bond girl. He really wishes that this thing with Bracken, the trying not to get dead thing, would go away so he can settle out what he really is with his Bond girl.
He grabs two glasses of champagne, even though his date isn't drinking. Neither will he, for that matter, but illusions need to be maintained. He casually looks around the room at the rest of the New York Glitterati. To the outside observer, he hopes he looks like a man looking for friends, not a man casing the place for security.
In the end, just "talking to Bracken" isn't going to be quite as simple as Booth had implied.
The four of them - Castle, Beckett, Booth and Brennan - had sat around Dizzy's kitchen as he made them dinner and they worked out a plan. Luckily, they'd found that Bracken had a fundraiser the next night, run by some environmental group that otherwise seemed a bit like a political liability.
"That means he actually cares about it," Dizzy had said, "which is good - means he won't blow it off."
As a black-tie event, and with Bracken sure to spot Beckett the minute she walked in, it was quickly decided that Castle and Brennan should go instead. The five of them had hoped that Brennan's money and scientific credibility might get her a minute or two with the Senator.
Castle carries the champagne back to Brennan. She is stunning in a black floor length number that she and Beckett had managed to find in a hurry. Castle would have, under normal circumstances, preferred to have Beckett on his arms. But it wasn't normal circumstances. Not that Brennan doesn't look great on his arm.
He hands one of the flutes to Brennan and she takes a fake sip in a way that he finds overly theatrical. How did she handle the undercover cases they sometimes had to do, he wonders? But then he remembers that she is the one wearing the receiver in her ear because he hadn't been able to stop putting his hand to his ear, Secret Service-style, every time Booth had spoken to him. Maybe he shouldn't be judging.
Brennan casually looks around the room before whispering to him. "Beckett and Booth are in place." Castle remembers the plan, with Beckett on the street, and Booth about a mile away. He hopes it works, because if it doesn't, there is no backup close by.
"Good, let's get this over with," he replies.
He walks Brennan across the room to where Bracken is holding a sort of receiving line. Security is standing a discreet distance away - reasonable enough since every guest has been wanded and walked through a metal detector on entry. Castle blows out a breath, once again thanking their lucky stars that the Vice President left earlier that day.
Soon, the crowd ahead of them clears, and it is their turn.
"Senator Bracken, it's a pleasure. Richard Castle," Castle says, holding out his hand. Bracken shakes it. Castle notices a brief flash of confusion cross Bracken's eyes before the politician schools himself. Does he recognize me, Castle wonders, or does he just wonder if he should? Too late for it, either way, he decides before continuing. "And may I introduce my date, Dr. Temperance Brennan of the Jeffersonian Institute?"
Another flash, Castle notes, but it appears this time it is more in reaction to Temperance's cleavage.
As Brennan steps forward, she trips slightly, pitching forward to catch herself on the Senator. Bracken moving quickly, catches her left arm to keep her mostly upright, but she drops her purse.
"Senator, I'm so sorry," she says, leaning further down to pick up the clutch. Bracken and Castle both lean forward, Bracken to continue to help her stand, and Castle to block the view of the bodyguard a few feet away. As she stands up, she quickly punches out with her right fist, the middle knuckle covered in an ornate ring, and drives the point of the ring into the inside of Bracken's right thigh, right where the femoral artery is closest to the surface.
As quickly as she'd struck, she pulls back, bringing herself fully upright, and stares at the Senator. Outside of the three of them, no one around has any idea what has happened.
"Wait, what was..." Bracken starts to ask, and then collapses.
Castle has known Bracken's fainting was coming, or at least to expect it, but it still takes him by surprise to watch the man drop in front of him. Castle catches one side of Bracken and Brennan the other before anyone other than his bodyguard can see what is going on.
"Quick," Castle says to the bodyguard, "he fainted. We need to get him to the bathroom."
The bodyguard freezes for a moment. "I don't think we should move him. What the hell happened?"
"He's probably been standing too long and had a vasovagal episode," Brennan says smoothly.
"Do you want the news tomorrow to be all about how the Senator can't even stand on his own? Who do you think his campaign manager is going to blame for that one?" Castle adds quickly.
The potential for blame, as usual, gets action. The bodyguard steps in, taking half of the Senator from Brennan, and he and Castle quickly move the man down the hall into the bathroom, away from people.
Once in the room, the bodyguard manages to recover some of his presence of mind, and quickly checks each of the stalls. Castle lets him fret for a second as he lowers Bracken to the floor. Brennan looks over Bracken, and as the Bodyguard finishes his sweep, she looks up.
"Open the window. We need some cool air in here to wake him up."
The bodyguard hesitates.
"You already checked the room," Castle says, "and my date here is a doctor." He choses not to point out that she has a PhD, not a medical degree.
The bodyguard turns, unlocks the window, and throws open the sash. Castle feels what happens next more than he sees or hears anything. One second the bodyguard is checking the alley, the next he is falling backwards as the tranquilizer dart that Booth has fired from a few blocks away enters his system. Castle is barely able to slide out of the way before the large man hits the tile.
"You gotta teach me that Spock neck pinch thing," Castle says to Brennan once he is sure the bodyguard is out cold.
"I don't know who Spock is, but the shock to the femoral artery is not a particularly guaranteed attack. I suspect it only worked tonight because he's been on his feet most of the day, and is also likely dehydrated. I also covered the tips of my ring in a sedative that Booth had available, just in case."
"Still, coolest thing ever."
"Can we discuss cool things later, Castle," he hears from the window, "and get moving?"
He looks up to see Beckett, dressed in her uniform blues, crawling through the window. She'd posted herself at the alleyway, under the guise of a beat cop. He decides not to mention how hot he thinks the uniform makes her look. Probably not the time.
Brennan and Beckett quickly manage to get Bracken up off the floor and through the window. Castle, working by himself, has a harder time moving the bodyguard into a stall, removing the tranq dart, and positioning him on the toilet. The guy is big enough that Castle can wedge the man's shoulder against the side of the stall to keep him upright. He hopes that the guy will stay put on the toilet for an hour or so. He takes the two flutes and pours the champagne over the bodyguard. The guy is going to smell drunk as hell and be fired tomorrow. For a moment, Castle feels bad, but he figures getting the man away from Bracken is probably doing him a favor in the long run.
Castle realizes he needs to get moving. Someone will notice the Senator's disappearance soon. He closes the stall door, completing the illusion.
Castle, finished with the guard, crawls through the window and pulls it as closed as he can behind him. It won't stand up to scrutiny, but it will have to do.
At the end of the alley, Brennan is closing the trunk on Bracken. Beckett is in the driver's seat of the interceptor she has "borrowed" from the motor pool, and without another word, she drives off. Castle stands next to Brennan as they watch Beckett leave. If the last part goes right, they'll see her in a bit. Once she is out of sight, he and Brennan turn to head back towards the crowd. Dressed as they are, their best hope is to slip into the milling crowd and disappear into Castle's waiting town car before Bracken's disappearance is noted and the party is locked down.
They are nearly to the end of the alley when Castle spots a uniformed cop walking towards them. He pushes Brennan to the side, out of the man's sightline, but it is too late. He's spotted them.
"Hey! What are you doing back here?" The cop yells to them.
Castle does the first thing he can think of and pushes Brennan against the wall. Praying she'll understand, he leans in and kisses her, just as the cop comes around to see them.
"Hey! Oh..." Castle hears the cop exclaim. "Folks, you can't be back here."
"Sorry," Castle says with a grin as he breaks apart from Brennan. "Just needed some privacy, you know?"
"Well, not here. Go," the cop says, trying to sound menacing but failing. Castle and Brennan both nod, and Castle pulls her away from the cop and into the town car. He motions for the driver to go, and doesn't breathe until the cop is a blurred dot in the rearview mirror.
"We got away with it," Castle says, once he feels safe.
"Got away with what, exactly?" Brennan asks. "Because Booth says he can't decide if he's going to kill you, or if he's going to tell Detective Beckett what you did back there and let her do it."
He'd meant the abduction, of course. But for once, he keeps his mouth shut.