Confession Chapter 35

While New Yorkers who paid any attention to weather forecasts were expecting heavy winds and rain, few of them envisioned the disastrous effects of surging waters. The city's denizens, many of whom didn't even own cars, were used to getting around quickly and efficiently by subway. That was no longer possible. The tunnels flooded. As power failed, traffic signals no longer functioned, but the streets were almost impassible anyway. Staying home was no better. Without power, there were no lights except for what could run on batteries. The same was true for computers and unfortunately refrigerators.

Those trying to leave the city were also stymied. Suburban communities were flooded and every way out, with the exception of the Lincoln Tunnel, was impassable. Parts of Staten Island were completely destroyed and every available responder was busy trying literally to keep people's heads above water.

Many members of the NYPD, Kate among them, joined in evacuating thousands of people from Midtown after a huge building collapsed. Hospitals, including the venerable Belleview, were evacuated as well, with some patients moved to unaffected Rikers Island's medical facilities.

Hands clasped, Castle and Alexis watch the tragedies unfold on TV. The building holding his loft, like a few others in the wealthy neighborhood, has its own emergency generator, fortunately not flooded out. Both the Castles had wanted to volunteer to help but were sternly advised that only emergency vehicles could be on the road and rescue workers didn't need any more victims to save. For once, Alexis wasn't about to tease her father about his preparations for a zombie apocalypse. The extra rations and hand-powered equipment he laid in could come in handy, even with no zombies in sight.

The loft is now a refuge for friends and acquaintances who could make it there. Martha is making coffee in a large urn, a longstanding skill from decades backstage. She brought her latest paramour, who is surprisingly talented in the kitchen, with her. He's perusing Castle's supplies trying to figure out the best way to feed a crowd.

Jim Beckett paces, softly murmuring a prayer for his daughter's safe return. Every so often he throws a glance at Castle's liquor cabinet, his thoughts swinging between thanks and frustration that it's locked. With a sympathetic gaze, Martha joins him from the kitchen. "I understand what it's like when they're out there. There have been so many times when Richard was working with Katherine and I wondered whether he'd ever come home again. But your daughter is one of the strongest people I've ever known. If a bullet to the heart couldn't stop her, a little rain doesn't have much of a chance."

Jim turns with a wry smile. "Yes, I know how tough Katie can be. But still…."

Martha squeezes his arm. "I know. But I hear there's going to be a poker game soon. That can be one hell of a distraction. My son's going to make his seven-layer dip. It's actually quite good."

"Yeah, Katie told me he's quite the cook. But it looks like you've found another one."

"Ah, yes. Rafael worked as a sous chef while he was waiting for his talent in the craft to be discovered. He's been getting small but vital roles for the last couple of years, but he hasn't allowed his culinary skills to lapse. It's one of his more attractive qualities – that and his butt."

Martha smiles inwardly as Jim guffaws. At least he's distracted for the moment. "Come on, Jim. Help me set up to get some food into this gang." He nods and follows her to add enough leaves to the table to accommodate all the refugees.

As Kate helps boost a woman and her three children into the last available spots in an evacuation vehicle, she's not sure whether the moisture she feels beneath her foul weather gear is sweat or water. She's been going for sixteen hours straight, helping to cope with the aftermath of a storm whose dregs are finally departing. With a grudging respect, she suspects that Captain Gates has been going even longer. Gates took total command at the 12th assigning each person where they could do the most good, then organized a bank of civilian volunteers to take calls and help direct resources where they were most needed. Kate wasn't at the precinct to see it, but she heard that when the generator failed, Gates continued operations by flashlight and any other emergency lighting anyone could find, including some battery-powered electric candles stowed away as Christmas decorations. She even pulled out a menorah which proved to be a remarkably effective reading light.

Before the cell towers went down, Kate received a couple of texts from Castle telling her how a generator was providing power to as many people as he could gather in the safety of the loft – including her father. Having that load off her mind makes it easier to function. But the lift provided by adrenaline and the occasional container of strong coffee is beginning to flag. As hard as she's worked to recover, she doesn't have the strength and endurance she had before she was shot. Even though she's consistently outperformed their expectations, the doctors can't guarantee that she ever will.

With the vehicle fully loaded, she'll have a few minutes to breathe before the next one arrives. And it should be the last for a while. The city's been rotating them as fast as it can, but without electricity to power the pumps and the lack of fresh deliveries, fuel is running dangerously low and allotments will go first to emergency vehicles. The evacuation trucks are a tier down on the priority list. She's surprised to feel her until-now-useless cell phone vibrate in the pocket of her trousers. Con Ed had promised to do their best to restore power to the towers, at least some of them. Apparently, they'd succeeded. She digs under her gear to retrieve her phone. Castle's face fills the screen. "Beckett! Are you all right? You look exhausted."

"I am a little tired, Castle," is all she's ready to admit. "But I'll be finished here soon."

"Someone wants to talk to you," Castle says.

Jim Beckett's craggy face appears. "How are you doing, Katie?"

"I'm fine, Dad. How's everyone there?"

"Probably better than we deserve to be. Did you know that Alexis Castle is a card shark?"

"Dad, she's a mathlete. She's probably keeping count of every card that appears."

Jim chuckles. "Well good for her." The amusement fades from his face. "Katie, you aren't the only one out there working to save the city. Promise me you'll take care of yourself."

"All right, Dad. I promise."

Martha claps her hands together. "Well, that's settled! Let's play cards. We need to show my granddaughter that she can't go on winning forever." She glances over at Castle. "And Darling, we need some more dip."

Castle sighs. "Yes, Mother."

"I'll help," Rafael volunteers.

"You have an impressive kitchen here, Richard," Rafael says.

"Rick, please. Only Mother calls me Richard."

"You don't often see home use of MAC professional knives, Rick."

"Well, to tell you the truth," Castle confesses, "I bought them as research for a book about a murderous chef. I gave up on the book when movies with similar plots came out on Lifetime and the Hallmark Mystery Channel. But I fell in love with the knives. Are you falling in love with anything around here?"

The chef quirks an eyebrow. "Are you asking me about my intentions for your mother?"

"I'll just say that her judgment concerning men has been less than sterling. And she is my mother. I'd be a poor son if I didn't look out for her."

"Then let me assure you that you've done your duty. Martha is the one in control of this relationship. I will be as serious as she allows me to be."

Castle slowly nods. "I understand."