Close Encounters 17

Kate saw Reynolds move first, pulling a weapon from the center ottoman and heading for the door, quick and silent.

"Ren, no." Kate called after him. "What are you doing?"

"Always meet your enemy with your weapon," Reynolds said, yanking open the door and disappearing down the hall.

Since Castle wasn't moving to stop him, Kate shifted forward to go after the man. Mitchell snagged her by the arm and shook his head.

"We gotta leave you for this part," he said. "Me and Mason. Since we're your back-up."

"Back-up?" she said, horrified. Castle only watched her grimly and gave Mitch a nod. "No. Castle, we do not need back-up. This is just taking me in for questioning, that's all."

"You're being arrested," he said quietly. "And the back-up is just in case."

She opened her mouth to protest, but Mitchell had escaped out the door. "Castle. Mitch can't go out there. He doesn't have the protection of the CIA any more."

"He knows what he's getting into," Esposito said. "Ryan and I are staying here, since we're part of the official story. We'll take Castle with us and follow along behind you to wherever they process the arrest."

The arrest.

Suddenly, it was happening all too fast. She heard the elevator down the hall and Castle shut the door after Mitchell and Reynolds's departure. Esposito and Ryan were closing the ottoman, hiding the guns, and their own weapons were tucked into ankle holsters out of sight.

She gripped the back of the couch and stayed on her feet, feeling left out of it, unaccounted for.

She was being arrested.

And then Castle came back to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, drew her slowly against him. "We got you, Kate. You're not doing this alone."

"I know," she rasped. Not just because Castle was standing right at her side. Not just her boys flanking her and Mitch and Mason out there. It was also because of this life she had now, this life to protect - a piece of her husband tucked away and secret inside her. She wasn't alone at all. "Castle. Castle, when did we start calling him the little wolf and not the baby elephant?"

He laughed breathlessly in her ear, his grip around her waist tightening for an instant. "I don't know. I guess asking after an elephant doesn't seem as complimentary."

She choked on a laugh of her own, stood up straighter. "Well, a wolf then. Since we've already got one." Sasha had come to her side in warning now, as if she could hear something they couldn't. Ryan and Esposito were just in front of them, waiting for it.

The knock on the door sounded too loud in the apartment, and for half a beat, no one moved at all. She saw then that it wouldn't be any of them - none of her boys were going to open the door to her accusers - so she had to do it herself.

When the door swung back, she saw four men in suits. And her Captain.

"Gates?" Esposito barked, coming up behind Kate.

Castle was close, his fingers at her lower back, but he was absolutely silent. Sasha growled.

Gates stepped through the doorway. "I'm sorry to say this. But Detective Beckett, we need to take you in."

"Am I under arrest?"

"Yes." The lead FBI agent in his ill-fitting suit shouldered his way past Gates and reached for Kate's shoulder. He harshly tried to turn her around, but Esposito moved in just as Castle blocked the man's arm. Sasha was growling now, that low and constant hum in her throat, and the FBI agent gave the two men a swift look. "Keep your dogs restrained."

"She was just beaten half to death by your senator's hired thugs. So take it easy," Castle growled.

"You're the husband?" one of them said, eyeing Rick. It made Kate's hair stand up on the back of her neck. "An accountant, so it seems."

"What's it to you?" Castle said.

"She's going with us," another agent said. "I'm going to put her in handcuffs now."

"No," Castle snapped. "You're not."

"Castle," she warned, holding her hand up against his chest. She could feel the hostility in him, but she turned her head and willed him to look at her.

He did, a brief glance, and his whole posture changed. The spy was subsumed, the husband was back again. He had to stick to their cover.

"Then I'm doing it, not you," Castle said finally. "She's been hurt enough."

And though she didn't think he meant to, the break in his voice was convincing. Gates herself handed over her own handcuffs and Castle took them.

Kate watched him as he slid his fingers along her inside wrist, drawing her arms before her. The cuffs came on, her ribs already aching, but with a last, soft kiss to her mouth, Castle subtly pushed a little key into her hand.

Just in case, she could practically hear him.

"I'm going to be the one to take these off of you," he murmured. "I'll come for you, Kate. I'll get you released."

The elevator ride took an eternity.

Castle stood just behind the man who had wanted to handcuff his wife so roughly, and he hoped his anger was enough to drop the agent dead on the spot. If looks could kill.

The asshole shifted on his feet and Castle figured a little discomfort was all he was going to get. Castle was supposed to be an accountant after all. He hadn't missed the strange look that agent had given him when he'd asked - like he'd heard rumors, like he couldn't quite believe it.

They'd had to leave the poor dog in the apartment, her low, lonely bark of disapproval the only sound she'd made against the treatment. He imagined he could still hear her whining in her throat as the elevator sank to the lobby; he understood the feeling.

But at least like this he could still stay in touch with Kate. Just barely. The suited FBI agents obviously didn't know what to do with him riding along, though Gates kept throwing him supportive, encouraging looks. Castle nudged his fingers to Kate's thigh, letting her know he was here.

The elevator ground to a halt and the doors opened. The agents moved forward as one, but Gates was at Beckett's side, acting as support for the injured prisoner, though Castle saw his wife didn't need it.

Or didn't want to need it. Her balance was off with her hands cuffed in front of her and her ribs already killing her, so it made the walk difficult, but she was doing it. No help.

Good girl.

Castle followed, itching to get closer, but it was all he could do to keep his mouth shut. If he got any closer, he might say things that she would regret. He could imagine these FBI assholes taking it out on her once they got her alone.

It was his worst nightmare - his wife in the hands of idiots who had no idea the danger out there. No idea about Black.

But he gritted his teeth and soldiered on, coming outside into the harsh light, the sun bouncing off the windows of the buildings across the street. It was bitterly cold, the last of winter was in the March wind, and Castle shoved into the midst of the men even as they protested, too startled to stop him.

He caught her coat before it could slip from her shoulders, brought it up closer around her neck, buttoning the top button of the peacoat so it wouldn't fall. She smiled at him, soft and delicate, and he had to resist the urge to kiss her.

A strobe of light went off, cameras, a hurdle of reporters just outside the front doors, and Castle stopped the whole procession of agents by planting himself in front of her. Her hands were cuffed in front of her but she didn't look at all surprised to see him; she looked like they held a secret together.

He was stunned to realized they did. More than a key slipped into her hand, more than a love affair with the CIA.

Fuck it, he thought, and then he pressed his mouth to hers. He kissed her desperately, furiously, joyfully - the whole last few days - the last few months - in his effort of love. She moaned a little, and he didn't know if it was pleasure or pain, but she pushed back just as hard, her tongue diving into his mouth and their secrets this dark sensation at the back of his throat like choking.

He felt more than saw the cameras, but it was partly a show for them anyway, to rebrand her in the media spotlight. An agent yanked him away and he allowed himself to go, watching intently, silently, as Gates helped Beckett to one of the black SUVs. The agent kept Castle back with an arm until Gates and Beckett were loaded into the backseat, and then he let Castle go and joined his fellow assholes.

Castle stood on the sidewalk and didn't speak, didn't so much as look in the reporters' direction, and after a moment, he felt a presence behind him.

"Castle." Urgent, pleading, Reynolds came closer.

He turned and saw the man; his face was white, still marred by the leftover of the work that had been done to him in that listening station of the coast of Tunisia. "Ren. What's wrong?"

He could hear the SUVs starting their engines, the grind of tire against grit in the road, and Reynolds took a half-step as if to follow.

"Reynolds."

"That was him. That was-" Reynolds shuddered. "The man who tortured me in Tunisia. His name is Maine and he's driving that SUV that Beckett just got into. Maine is one of your father's mercenaries."

"Whoa, fuck," Kate gasped, jerking back.

Maine gave her an evil little grin in the rear view mirror and then adjusted it back, but Captain Gates, at her side, was gripping Kate by the elbow.

"Are you okay? Are your ribs-"

"No, he's - that's him. He's one of-" Kate stopped, the words dying in her mouth.

"One of who?" Gates said sharply, glancing through the passenger side window and craning her neck. "I don't see anyone. Except Esposito and Ryan."

The agent in the front seat beside Maine turned around and narrowed his eyes at her. "Is there a problem?"

Kate sucked in a shallow breath but her ribs ached anyway; at least Castle had been able to handcuff her arms in front of her - behind her back might have killed her.

The key was tucked tightly in her hand. She'd have to find a place to hide it before she was stripped and searched, but so far, she had no idea. It became even more imperative that she not be discovered.

Maine. One of Black's mercenaries was here.

That meant this was part of Black's plan. Her arrest was part of his plan.

"Detective Beckett?'

She shook her head, her mouth dry. What was she supposed to say? My accountant husband has a murderous father who is out to destroy us - and he's using your driver to do it.

She pressed the heels of her hands into her stomach and tried to breathe without hurting herself. She had to think, had to plan.

Had anyone seen that the driver was Maine? Would any of them even know? Castle had been on that island but he'd been stuck with his father most of the time. Maine had kept watch over her with Deleware but it had only been Del and Black in the courtyard when Castle had come.

Reynolds. He might have seen Maine at some point, but she couldn't count on that. And what did this do to their plan now? She didn't feel at all safe with Maine at the wheel, but even less did she want Maine out of her sight.

And when they put her in a holding cell...

"Captain," she said tightly. "Are we headed back to the 12th?"

"I'm afraid not," Gates sighed. "The federal building. The FBI has jurisdiction. I'm here - as they've made it quite plain - as a courtesy only."

An unknown layout, unknown enemy, and no way of knowing what Maine had planned.

Any other time, she'd have been content to sit back and wait, ride it out, but she couldn't. There was her jungle parasite to think about. The little wolf haunting her.

Shit, this was a mess.

Castle followed the SUV carefully, making sure to stay right on Maine's tail. He was just an accountant after all, and he was upset they were arresting his wife for what was clearly justifiable. Of course the accountant was going to follow his wife to wherever they were taking her.

He was upset; hell yes, he was.

And he also wanted Maine to know that he'd been made and not to try anything because Castle was right on his ass. Close enough to shoot.

In the car behind him, Espo was driving Ryan and Mitchell, but they were being circumspect. Just in case.

Too many contingencies, too many possible outcomes. Anything could happen and while he'd known that her arrest wasn't going to sit right with him, he hadn't fathomed that one of the FBI agents would be a plant of his father's.

Failure on his part. If something happened to Kate...

"What are we going to do?" Reynolds said.

"I don't know," he admitted. "They'll have to let me in. She's under arrest but innocent until proven guilty. They can't keep me away from her."

"Agent Castle... I don't think they have to let you anywhere near her."

He fought to keep from punching the steering wheel; his knuckles were already scabbed and bruised from before. "I'll make them."

"Do we have a back-up plan?" Reynolds said quietly. "In case that doesn't go our way."

"She has a standard handcuff key. She should be able to get out if she has to."

"We're not breaking her out, are we?"

He didn't know what to say. Because yes, he wholeheartedly wanted to get Kate out of there. But one of the last things she'd begged of him was that he stick to the cover.

He couldn't go in there as a CIA operative or their life was exposed - Kate was exposed, her father, his own mother - their child. There were reasons why he should have been keeping secrets all along, reasons why no one was supposed to know.

"I can't go in after her as a CIA agent. But what good am I as a civilian?"

The silence stretched between them. The train of FBI cars stopped at a light and Castle shifted his hand to his weapon, easy access, just in case. But nothing happened and the light turned green and still Beckett got farther away from him.

"I know," Reynolds said quietly. "But what if I went in there? I tell them who I am, what happened to me in Tunisia. And that Maine was in on it. Then at least that threat is removed."

Castle let out an explosive breath. "The whole point of this is that we don't expose the CIA - too many people will get hurt if we bring that into it. Kate wouldn't be happy with me if I let you try that - not after what Mitch has done to take that heat."

"And Beckett would absolutely kill me if I let you go in there and try to break her out."

Castle pulled up behind the SUV and followed it into an underground parking garage. The guardhouse was manned and the bar came down, and Castle gripped the steering wheel, rolled his window down to explain. He was promptly turned away by the armed agent at the guardhouse window, and Castle double parked on the street instead.

Federal building. He needed some fucking authority to get inside that place and he didn't have it.

But he knew someone who did.

Esposito's car pulled in behind him, both of them waiting for something, a sign to show them the way.

"Reynolds," he said finally. "I'm going to ask you to tell your story. But not to them. To someone else."

"Who?" Reynolds said.

"My boss. It's time we call the Director."

Kate Beckett pressed her arms against her bruised ribs and ignored the man at her back who had been - once upon a time - part of Deleware's mercenary team. The elevator took them from the underground parking garage and up to the main floor where each one of them went through the metal detectors. She kept a careful eye on Maine, noticed that he did in fact have a weapon, and then she was patted down herself.

When the FBI agent at her side turned to put his own weapon on the plastic tray, Kate coughed into her hands and stuck the key under her tongue, pressing it close to her gums. The metal detector lit up when she went through and she was wanded by a security agent.

She didn't offer any explanation, and the wand coasted over her arms and legs. When she had to raise her arms so the man could get at her ribs, she could barely lift them, and she let herself shake with the effort. The man wouldn't look her in the eyes, and he quickly gave up the routine when he found nothing.

Kate touched her tongue to the key and stayed silent.

They took two elevators going up, and she didn't know whether she was relieved or not that Maine wasn't in her car. It was Gates and two other agents, including the one Castle hadn't made friends with, and they didn't stay anything to her either.

She kept her spine straight and followed Gates into the detention center, surrounded by most of the NYC FBI branch. They stared at her as she was led in, but she thought she saw some sympathy from a few faces. There were even two guys she knew from working federal homicide cases, and both men shadowed her entourage as they moved to the processing center.

It was comforting, strangely enough, but she still didn't know how much she could say to either of them about what was truly going on. She couldn't accuse Maine of anything without having to tell a story she simply couldn't tell.

Not only because it would blow her cover with the CIA, not just because it was other people's lives she was putting at risk, but also because she'd already mishandled all of Castle's secrets. The stories he'd given her in her detective's notebook, the things he'd unhesitatingly shared with her despite the fact that they were classified - she'd ripped those stories apart looking for details, proof of the regimen, searching for safety rather than trusting in love.

She'd treated those stories like evidence rather than the gifts they were, and there was no way in hell she was going to be so cavalier about them now.

She absolutely couldn't. And beyond that betrayal, beyond the fact that it would put her husband and countless others in jeopardy - there were long-term consequences that they couldn't even project. Ten years from now, what if the secrets she uncovered today about themselves led back to their family? To a family Kate hadn't even met yet, but already was responsible for?

If it was just Kate herself she was worried about, it'd be different. But the CIA kept secrets for a damn good reason, and she wasn't about to risk it.

One of her FBI contacts, Agent Keirce, came at her side and gave her a head nod, indicating a solidarity she hadn't been expecting. She gave him a tight smile and he opened up a door marked Processing.

"We'll run your prints, get you photographed, put in the paperwork, Detective Beckett."

"Thanks, Keirce."

Captain Gates came in with her as well. "I'm acting as her union rep until we can get your lawyer here."

"I think Rick was in contact," Kate said, the key pressing hard beneath her tongue. Keirce was guiding her to a padded chair and the handcuffs were unlocked without even a comment.

It was all so civil. She felt a little bit foolish.

"If you'll give me your hand," Keirce said. "We'll press it to the glass and get your fingerprints."

The door swung open; Maine stepped just inside. Keirce shot him a frown but said nothing, and suddenly Kate didn't feel at all foolish.

Black wanted her dead; she should never forget that.

"Get McCord on the phone right now," Castle barked. Esposito shot him a dirty look but redialed, and Castle paced the coffee shop down the street where they had set up.

Reynolds had appropriated Mitchell's laptop and was writing out a kind of confession, point by point, of everything that had happened in Tunisia. Castle was still on hold with the CIA director's secretary, but he was confident the man would get in touch with him the moment he had the time.

Esposito held up his cell. "I got her."

"Switch with me," Castle said, yanking the phone from Espo's fingers and handing his own over to the man. He pressed the phone to his ear and forced himself to sit. "Rachel?"

"Mr. Rodgers."

His heart lifted. She was already doing such a great job. "Look, can you - I need for you to get inside the holding center where they've got Kate."

"I was on my way there now."

"Good, oh, that's good." He bowed over the little round table where Ryan had set out coffee for him. "Thank you. I need you to stick as close to Kate as you can."

"Why? What's going on?"

"Is this a secure line?"

McCord let out a noise. "As far as I know, but maybe you should choose your words carefully."

"The driver of the SUV that came for her - that driver is an old enemy of ours," he said quietly. "An enemy with a death wish for Kate."

"Shit. Are you kidding me?"

"I didn't see him until it was too late, but we followed the SUVs here to the federal building and got turned away. They won't let me in to see my wife."

"I understand," McCord said shortly. "I won't let her out of my sight. Mr Rodgers... you should do something about her lawyer."

"Right," he said. "We've got one on the way."

"Of course, but - he can stay with her. Do you understand me, Mr Rodgers?"

"The lawyer," he rasped. "Got it. I understand."

"I'll be there in twenty, Rick."

"Thanks."

He ended the call and had to rub his palm down his thigh, the clammy sweat of fear still riding through him. Reynolds had been tortured by that bastard masquerading as an FBI agent, and now Kate was at his mercy.

Fuck. Fuck, he did not feel good about this.

"Mason," he said.

"Here."

He lifted his head and saw his long-time operative more than ready and willing. "I need you inside. Start a cover ID as a lawyer based in New York, hired by her father years ago. You'll need a preliminary-"

"I know what I'll need," Mason said. "And I won't leave her."

Castle nodded, certain that Mason would do anything - just as the man had done for his own wife, Marin. "There's standard security at the federal building, but I want a weapon on you. Plastic knife, plastic gun - we have them at the Office. And Mason?"

"Yes, I'll get them."

"Mason," he insisted. "My wife can't - not a scratch. This time there is no acceptable injury. Do you understand me?"

Mason blinked and his brow furrowed - it wasn't protocol for an extraction to limit the number of damages. "Message received."

When Mason had stood and moved towards the front door to take on his new assignment, Castle turned to the rest of them huddled around the cafe table. "Espo," he said, palming the phone. "How's it?"

"Still on hold."

"I'll take it now," he said, lifting his hand for the phone. Esposito gave it up and he pressed it to his ear, heard the tinny muzak coming through the speaker. And then the secretary cut in with hurried apologies.

"Special Agent Castle, I can't get him on the line right now, but the moment he's out of this meeting, I'll have him call you back. What did you need from him?"

"We've got to set up a meeting with the Director, tell him what's going on with one my agents here at home."

"Is it an international-"

"No, no. Local problems. But we've identified a possible terrorist who knows my agent's status. We're concerned about there being some repercussions, possibly agent termination."

"Did you need a face-to-face or will a video conference be-"

"Video conference is perfect, Marjorie, thank you."

"Yes, sir, I'll pencil you in for a tentative four o'clock."

His chest tightened. "I - that's - it needs to be sooner than that. My agent is in custody."

"Local?"

"Federal," he admitted.

"Ah, well. Four o'clock is what I have available on his schedule, but the Director can cancel to fit you in. He'll call you as soon as he's out of this meeting."

"Thank you," Castle said. But he didn't know if that would be enough. "Can I ask you to go ahead and set some things into motion on his behalf?"

She sounded affronted now. "Special Agent-"

"I know he's going to want to oversee this, Marjorie, but it's about my father. You remember Agent Black?"

Marjorie was silent and Castle remembered - too late - exactly how Marjorie knew his father. Shit.

"Marjorie, I know," he said quietly. "I know. And what you've thought about him all along - I should've seen it sooner. My wife saw it too; she knew before any of us. She - this is my wife I'm calling you about. The senator. And-"

"I saw on the news. That's your wife? What does this have to do with Agent Black?"

"He has a man in place to kill her," Castle said. "And I'm desperate. Marjorie, I really need your help."

"What are you looking to accomplish here, Agent Castle? The FBI is involved, last I heard, and that means our hands are tied for a number of-"

"House arrest," he said quickly. "I just need house arrest. Let Kate come home with me - our cover is solid. It'll withstand any number of probes. I just need the Director to step in and arrange house arrest. Black's assassin can't get to her that way."

There was a moment of silence and then Marjorie sighed. "I'll see what I can arrange and then I'll interrupt the Director's meeting. I'll message you on the secure network when I know."

Castle slumped back in his seat, scraping a hand down his face. "Thanks," he rasped. "Thank you so much."

"Agent Castle - your father is a narcissistic bastard, and I'm sure you know that. I'll do what I can to help your wife. But you know as well as I do that sometimes the outcome cannot be controlled."

"I know," he growled. "I know. But not today."