Finding the Fit Chapter 67

"Catching four fish isn't bad, is it?" Rick inquires as he and Kate secure the boat to the pier.

"Not at all," Kate replies, "especially since you caught one of them."

Rick's chest puffs out. "The biggest one. Anyway, we should get them inside ASAP while they're still fresh-caught."

"So, Castle, as part of the extensive knowledge you've gathered in your travels, do you know how to clean fish?" Kate inquires, selecting a sharply honed knife from the block near the oversized sink.

"That was never part of my education," Rick admits, "at least not with fish straight off the boat. But I do know how to filet. It's pretty much the same thing, isn't it?"

"It depends on how much of the fish you want to eat, "Kate says. "But these are pretty big, so the filets should be good size. Want to share the work, partner?"

"Ooh, you would stick that word in there. Fine," he reaches into their ice chest, "I can at least do the one I caught."

Rick places the fish on a cutting board and starts to carefully cut the flesh away from the bones and other parts he regards as inedible. The knife grinds against something firmer than a fishbone. "What the? Beckett, there's something here. The fish must have eaten it."

Kate's lip curls in disgust. "Some idiots will throw trash in a lake, Castle."

"I don't think this is trash. It's shiny metal. It's…." Rick cuts the object free. "It's a barrette. Some of the little girls at Compassionate Hearts wore some like it. Take a look."

Kate examines the hair ornament. "I think I had a couple of clips like this myself when I was five. My Mother used them to keep the hair out of my face. But they can come loose, Castle. Some little girl was probably out on the lake with her family and lost it while leaning over the side of the boat. Sometimes fish go for bright, shiny things. Yours must have accidentally swallowed that."

"You're probably right," Castle considers, "but it would make a much better story if there were some evil afoot. Could we check to see if a little girl's gone missing?"

"With no phone and no internet? I thought the point of this trip was to get away from all that."

Rick nods. "Yes, you're right. Of course, you're right. But I'm going to save this. The next time we're up at the lodge we can ask if someone inquired about a lost and found or something."

Kate shrugs. "Suit yourself. But finish cutting up that fish. I'm starving."

Castle plants a quick kiss on her lips. "So am I."

Hunt checks the latest burst from his bug. He can hear part of a reality show about the real housewives of … somewhere. As questionable as Sophia's taste in TV shows may be, there's nothing illegal about it. Grimacing, he keeps listening. She turns off the TV when her doorbell buzzes. You aren't supposed to come here!" she spits out. "You could be observed on half a dozen street and security cameras."

"I had no choice," a deep, classically Russian voice replies. "All the lines of communication through Re-emergence and the dragon's operation are gone. I could be caught up in the net any time. I need to get out of the U.S. now."

"So go to the consulate," Sophia advises. "The consul can arrange to get you back to Russia."

"The consulate knows there's trouble, and I'm betting you know that. They're not putting anyone on a flight that might attract the attention of your CIA, FBI, NSA, or any of the other agencies under the new intelligence umbrella. I need another way out."

"You're putting me in an untenable position," Sophia complains. "If I help you, I could be caught too, and I won't just be charged with espionage and kept for a prisoner trade. Some overenthusiastic politician trying to distance himself from the Bracken debacle could insist I be tried for treason. The courts might even let the DOJ do it. A demagogue could try to make a name for himself by claiming I should get the death penalty."

"If you don't help me and I do get caught, I'll make a deal by giving them your name," Sophia's visitor threatens. "You can help me run, or I can guarantee you'll be on the run too. It's your choice."

"Yes, it is," Sophia agrees, her voice eerily calm. Hunt hears what he immediately recognizes as a silenced shot and the thud of a body hitting the floor. "I wasn't planning on having to take out the garbage today," Sophia tells her victim, "but you gave me no choice. You won't have any more chance to stink up my place. The Company just installed a brand-new incinerator. It's as good a time as any to try it out."

Hunt rushes from his cramped quarters down to street level. Vaulting a wrought-iron fence that leads to an alley next to Sophia's building, he spies her using a luggage cart to haul a plastic-wrapped body-sized bundle to a standard-issue black SUV. "Need a hand, Turner?" Hunt asks mildly, pointing a silenced 50 Action Express at her.

Sophia's eyes widen. "Hunt! What the hell are you doing here?"

"My job. Normally, the enemies of the U.S. that I take down at least acknowledge that they're on the other side. But as beautiful as the wrappings of your package are, they conceal a traitor to this country. The only question is, do I shoot you right here and leave a mess for the NYPD to deal with, or do I take you and your weighty friend there back to the Company and let it deal with both of you?"

"Or you could let it go, Hunt. Most assets your age are out of the game, enjoying retirement someplace where their pension buys a lot of comforts. And I have friends who could do much better than a pension."

"Most assets my age never get to enjoy a pension. They're too busy pushing up daisies – or sunflowers ripped off from Ukraine. I didn't get this old by trusting promises from bitches like you."

Sophia points to the wrapped body. "You'll never get us both to the Company. You're good, but you're not that good, Hunt."

"You know," Hunt considers, "I may not be as strong as I was a few years ago." A whoosh sounds as a gaping hole opens in Sophia's forehead. "But my aim hasn't failed yet. I can take you both to the Company now. Kate Beckett is out of town with Richard. There's no reason for them to come home to a mess."

Hunt takes the keys to her car out of Sophia's pocket before loading both bodies into the trunk of her SUV. "At least the company goes for decent cargo space," he mutters to himself. "You two are in line to meet two kinds of flames, the ones in the Company's incinerator and the ones in Hell. The Hell up here will be tracking down all the damage you've done and taking care of it. Fortunately for me, the analysts will handle the hard part of that. They'll just call me in for the end game. I might even get a few days off before I have to snip the loose ends." Whistling, Hunt drives the vehicle out of the alley and into Manhattan traffic.