A Convergence of Storms
Summary – Someone from Castle's past is murdered and that gives Kate a look into his unconventional childhood and time spent shadowing the CIA, something that hasn't really been discussed on the show (yet). AU of course, with some grounding in canon.
Author's Notes – Thanks for the reviews, favs, and follows. They really mean a lot and keep me on track for not starting other plot bunnies that pop into my head before I finish this story. 38 days and counting…Yeah!
Disclaimer – Don't own Castle – Marlowe, ABC, and Disney do. The OCs came out of my imagination.
Chapter 25 – Let Me Tell You The Tale of My People
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Wearing a spare police uniform, Castle examined his cards as he studied the 4 men sitting around the table, making sure he stifled a smile, not because his hand that was good – it was so great in fact he almost did the unmentionable in his pants when he saw his cards – but because he was having one of the best times of his life.
Even if he couldn't share the experience with anyone, the trip that had started out so lackluster was now showing promise of being one of the most memorable ones and he was drinking in every minute.
When they arrived at the bar, reminiscent of the Old Haunt, the 4 men waiting for them had loaned him money to bet with because his wallet was back in his room which was in the process of being exterminated due to a spider infestation, Costa explained simply.
The other men nodded knowingly, especially Father Benedict, and said that Castle had made the right choice.
"Ah, yes, many a men have fallen into her web," replied the Father, looking at his hand. "Better to not have been bitten in the first place."
After a couple of hands, in which Castle won enough to repay the men for their generosity and have a small pile of his own, Costa had to leave to take a call, and the rest of the men continued playing.
The game was lasting long into the night and reminded Castle of the good times he had had in college during their all-night poker games. The bets had been different then since they didn't have much money – help on a homework assignment (which would have been freely given anyway), the phone number of the cute girl down the hall (not so freely given), food, and chores.
Now, the men around the table tossed around money like it meant nothing and the game was merely a backdrop for something more important, the male bonding ritual. They talked and laughed freely, mostly in English so as to include him, in a relaxed manner that told of years of friendship. The discussion included a variety of subjects – the local happenings, funny stories they had heard recently, and the importance of family.
His writer's imagination had already come up with backstories for the men that he committed to memory, hoping to use them in the future.
At 40 years old, Costa was the closest to his age, with an easy outgoing manner and ready joke. But Castle could also sense the steel in him and was sure he didn't want to be on the wrong side of the law in this town – like he almost had been.
He was surprised to see a priest there, partaking in this pastime. Father Benedict, in his early 70's, with compassionate eyes that could probably tell many tales of woe, assured him that all proceeds went directly to the orphanage. Castle was sure that the other men threw their hands a couple of times so that the Father had a nice pile of winnings to take with him.
Dr. Gantner, head of the BA Cancer Institute, had a distinctly Swiss accent. He was also middle aged, with a lean aggressive look, fingers always moving, a quick mind and a quiet laugh. Castle was still trying to figure out how a man from Switzerland wound up in Argentina.
Gabriel, the bar owner, had joined them after the last customer had left. Definitely Argentinian – young, just starting out.
And that left Bogdan, the man who had lent Castle the money to start the game. He was large, probably in his 60's, a huge bull of a man with a thick head of graying unruly hair and matching beard, ice blue eyes that could pierce your very soul. Castle assumed he was homeless because of his appearance – old worn clothes and shoes and someone not well acquainted with bathing every day – but the other men accepted him without question. And in contrast to his looks, he spoke in an easy eloquent educated manner in a non-descript accent that Castle was having a hard time placing.
Castle had seen him outside the book signing on his first trip and then the next day, and was sure that the man had been watching him on this trip.
And Bogdan did have a nice pile of coins in front of him, almost as much as Castle did.
"The bet is to you, Señor Castle," said Father Benedict.
Castle nodded and spread his cards out slightly, studying them intently and then looked at the pot on the table and at Bogdan, the only other person who had remained in for this hand.
Bogdan sat back nonchalantly in his seat, waiting patiently for Castle to make his move, ice blue eyes peering into Castle's darker blue ones.
Castle looked at his watch and then his hand. "Well, it's been a long day and I think my room is finally ready, so let's make this simple. I'm all in," he said, pushing his stack of coins into the middle.
There were several chortles from around the table.
"And to you," Father Benedict said to Bogdan.
The man studied his cards and then the pot for a moment. "It seems that I don't quite have enough. Perhaps you will take my IOU?"
"You were kind enough to take mine, so it would be my pleasure," said Castle, returning the favor.
"Then you may have whatever you want from the Grotto," Bogdan said. "And I call."
The other men suddenly sat back from the table, a seriousness descending on the previous lightness of the evening.
"Okay," said Castle uncertainly, not sure about the change in the mood.
Bogdan put down his cards – four 9's – and the men around the table relaxed slightly.
Castle studied the cards on the table and then looked at Bogdan and was faced with a moral dilemma – should he throw the hand? Or should he play it out to see what would happen? The comment about the grotto had peaked his curiosity, not that he planned to take anything.
He quickly made his decision and laid down his cards face up. "Royal flush – all spades."
"Ah, God has smiled on you tonight," said Father Benedict, nodding at Castle.
"And I am a man of my word," said Bogdan. "I will take you to the Grotto and you may pick out whatever you like."
Castle shook his head as he pushed the pot towards Father Benedict. "No, no – that's not necessary. This game was payment enough. And I'd like to make a contribution to the orphanage."
Father Benedict smiled at him. "Bless you, my son."
"Then perhaps a lift back to the hotel?" said Bogdan as they both stood up.
"Sure," said Castle, shrugging. Did this man have a car or were they planning on walking back? He was pretty sure he remembered the way.
They bid the other men good night and walked out of the bar towards a 1999 hard-top Hummer H1.
"Have you enjoyed your visits to our little town?" asked Bogdan.
"It's very nice," said Castle. Eh, what would a field agent say – great place for meeting contacts anonymously?
After they had driven a little ways, Castle realized that they were headed in the opposite direction of his hotel.
"Uh, the hotel is back the other way," he said.
"Yes," said Bogdan. "But you won and I thought you might want to take a look."
"Okay," said Castle, trying to keep the concern out of his voice. If he got kidnapped, he was sure Althea wouldn't be too happy. She'd probably just let them keep him out of spite.
They drove for about 30 minutes on dirt roads before arriving at a little shack.
Yep, thought Castle – this definitely wasn't a good idea – he was being kidnapped by a man who dressed like a homeless person, lived in a shack, and drove a very expensive car. Two and two definitely didn't make four in this case.
"May I offer you a drink?" asked Bogdan.
"Well, actually, I have to get back to the hotel," Castle quickly said.
"I was hoping that we might be able to talk before you left this morning," said Bodgan. "I have a business proposition for you."
Castle stared at him. How did he know when they were leaving? "Okay," he nodded.
"Shall we talk inside?" Bogdan said and walked into the shack. "I need to check my email."
Castle paused at the door and then stepped back out slightly to look at the outside and then stepped back inside, certain he had been transported someplace different the moment he crossed the threshold.
The shack was small, two rooms, but the outside belied what was in the inside. The inside was comfortably appointed; the floor was made of wood; two chairs sat before a fireplace, a lamp on a table in between them. Several pieces of artwork were on one wall, a bookshelf on the other filled with a variety of classics, WWII history books, non-fiction, and…his books?
Yep, he had definitely entered the Twilight Zone.
Bogdan walked out of the second room. "Ah, I see you've found my library."
"For someone who looks homeless, you're very well read," Castle commented.
Bogdan nodded slightly and walked to the small wine cooler in the corner and pulled out at bottle of palinca.
"I find that I don't require much anymore – good friends, a good book, and a good glass of wine," he said, setting 2 glasses on the table. He studied Castle. "Your choice of phrasing is interesting. That's what I wanted to discuss with you."
He uncorked the wine, poured it into the glasses, and then picked up a glass and offered it to Castle.
"Those history books about WWII – they don't tell the whole picture – they don't tell what happened to the villages, the people who were overrun by Germany and then the Russians," Bogdan said as he motioned to the books with his glass.
"I've read your books," Bogdan said and then took a sip of wine. "What I would like to offer is a chance to write that story – about one village – my village."
"Why don't you tell me what happened," said Castle as he sat down in one of the chairs.
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Bogdan's father had been an inventor, a very successful and wealthy one, in Romania before the start of the war. But he had also been in favor of neutrality and King Carol II. He had seen the coupe coming and, before it happened, paid his workers and told them to flee, turned all his liquid assets into gold, burnt down his factory, and moved his family to the country to a small unnamed farming village.
His brother and family met him there, hoping to stay out of the war.
Bogdan was born in 1934, the youngest of 7 brothers and 3 sisters. His cousin Leonid Melekov was born the same year, so the two were inseparable.
His father and uncle hid their valuables in a cave several miles from the farm, taking out only what was necessary so that the families wouldn't starve, but not enough to draw attention to themselves.
In 1941, when the Germans invaded Russia, the Romanian soldiers came and conscripted all able-bodied boys between the ages of 14 and 21. They took 4 of his older brothers and 4 of his cousins – he never saw them again. They also took the food they had stored up for the winter.
The families scraped out a living, staying on the farm, growing what they needed, learning to live off of the land.
Then the Germans came back through in 1944, before the advancing Russian army, and burnt all the fields so that the Russians couldn't find any food for their march.
Bogdan, his father, a slightly older brother, his uncle, and Leonid were in the fields trying to salvage something when the Russians came through. By the time they got to the village, everyone there was dead. They thought the Russians were going to be their saviors, but they were just as bad – they looted what was left of the supplies and bombed the houses so that the German and Romanian armies couldn't use them as hiding places.
The only thing left of their no-named village was a smoking ruin.
The four survivors returned to the cave, took out what they needed to start over, blew the entrance, and fled to Switzerland where his father had a third cousin on his mother's side, Albert Gantner.
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"So, in a sense, I am homeless," said Bogdan. "I am a man without a country, without a home."
Castle nodded, clearing his throat and wiping his eye slightly. "No," he said finally. "They don't talk about that much in the history books."
"And now, it's time for you to see the Grotto, now that you know the importance of it and the cost of it," Bogdan said.
They walked out into the chilly night air, Bogdan stopping at the altar to kneel and make the sign of the cross. As he stood, he placed his hand on the fountain and moved it slightly. The back wall of the Grotto rose up to reveal a set of stairs.
He picked up the bottle of palinca that he had brought with him and walked down the stairs.
"Years later, when it was safe, my cousin Leonid and I returned to Romania. We found the farm and the cave. It was easy to reopen it – just took a little dynamite and we moved what was left of our inheritance to a safer location," said Bogdan.
Once at the bottom, Castle looked around the room and his eyes settled on the full wine racks. "Your family made wine?" he asked, sure he had missed some point.
Bogdan smiled as he moved aside the tapestry on the other wall. "No, we make vaults. And you may have whatever you want out of it."
Castle frowned at him and paused. "You know, the odds of getting a royal flush are 0.00015%. And I find it odd that after I leave the table for a minute, I get one…"
"Really?" said Bogdan. "Hmmm, must have been the hand of providence."
"Yeah, I'm not sure God was involved," said Castle, studying Bogdan who looked at him innocently. "And I know when I'm being set up. Listen, you don't owe me anything."
Castle nodded. "Yes, I would be interested in writing about your village, but I write murder mysteries – pulp fiction. Don't you want someone who knows history – someone with more experience?"
Bogdan shook his head. "I've found there are 4 types of people in the world." He counted on his fingers. "Those who are only out for themselves – I have no use for those types of people, no matter who they are," he said vehemently.
Bogdan ticked off another finger. "Those who want to control it – who I have no use for also."
He ticked off a third finger. "Those who want to save the world – they believe in what they are doing – the nobility of it, but most of the times they just have their heads stuck up their asses, much like your friend Anders."
He ticked off the final finger. "And the most important one, the person who looks out for the other person."
Bogdan smiled at Castle. "And I think you're such a person. So to answer your question, that's the type of person I want to write about my village."
"Then I'd be honored," said Castle, nodding as he put out his hand.
Bogdan smiled as he shook Castle's hand and then drew him in for a big hug and thump on the back.
He stepped back. "But I am a man of my word and you may have whatever you want out of the vault."
Bogdan pressed his hand against the pad and keyed in a combination.
Castle frowned curiously as the door slid open and then could only stare at what was inside. "Wow." He was speechless for a minute. "Wow – your father was very successful."
Bogdan merely shrugged. "Yes, he was. And I have been also." He looked around at the various objects in the vault. "Like my mother, my wife was a collector of the more discerning arts."
"Just, wow," Castle said. "I think this rivals The Metropolitan Museum of Art."
"Feel free to walk inside and take a look if you're having a hard time deciding," Bogdan suggested.
Castle quickly made a decision and shook his head. "No, I don't need to."
He looked at Bogdan. "Listen, I've got enough money to take care of Alexis and my mother and do what I want to do, which is to write. So if you think you owe me something for a hand you obviously dealt me, then just pay it forward. There's lots of kids here – they could use a good library – a place to ignite their imagination."
Bogdan nodded. "If you're sure…"
Castle nodded. "Yeah, yeah – I am."
"Okay," Bogdan nodded. "But before I take you back, we need to finish this bottle." He pulled a small envelope from his pocket. "And, by the way, please give this to Anders since we didn't have time to meet."
Castle frowned at the envelope. "You're the contact?"
Bogdan nodded. "Not what you expected?"
Castle shook his head, smiling slightly. "No, not at all."
Bogdan motioned to the table and chairs sitting in the cellar. "I design the vaults. Leonid builds them," he said as they sat down. "I've found your friends to be very interested in my designs, especially the new biotechnical ones."
Castle nodded as he sipped from the glass and was silent for a while. "Can I ask a personal question?" he finally said.
Bogdan nodded. "Feel free to ask anything that you would like to."
"You said your wife was a fine art collector, but I can't imagine your wife living in a house like this, no offense," Castle said, motioning over his head.
Bogdan smiled sadly and nodded. "She was indeed – a wonderful woman – born here in Argentina. I met her in college, we traveled the world, had a son. Then, when she became sick, we came back here. She passed away several years ago." He took a sip of his wine. "I found the house too lonely without her and moved out here."
Castle nodded as the man talked.
They sat for a few more minutes in companionable silence before Bogdan looked at him. "What about you, Richard?" Bogdan asks. "Anyone special in your life?"
Castle frowned slightly. "I thought there was a couple of times, but it never seemed to work out."
"A good looking rich man like you?" said Bogdan. "What about that woman you were here with the last time? You looked almost inseparable."
"Yeah, I thought we had something, but ever since we got back, she's been distant," Castle replied. "I haven't seen her since then, so I'm not sure what I did."
"Hear, hear," said Bogdan, clinking his glass against Castle's. "Here's to women and not being able to understand them."
Castle smiled and clinked his glass back.
"And I predict that you will meet a tall beautiful woman and fall in love," said Bogdan.
"Oh, that's not a problem – I fall in love with random women on a subway all the time," said Castle. "But most of the ones I meet now are interested in how big my bank account is, what my credit limit is, and how long I'll last – and mostly in that order."
"So you've given up on love?" questioned Bogdan.
"No," said Castle, shaking his head. "Never," he said with a slight smile. "Have you?"
Bogdan shrugged slightly in response. "I've already had the best – I doubt I could find someone like my Isabella again." He took a sip of wine and smiled. "But that doesn't mean I don't enjoy the company of a good woman occasionally. So here's to kissing a lot of beautiful women."
"Well, if you come to New York, I'll introduce you to my mother – I think she may be between suitors again," said Castle.
They both drained their glasses and then Bogdan put his empty glass down.
"But before I take you back, let me show you how this works," he said and stood to walk over to the vault door. "I think you'll find it's quite fascinating."
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