465. Chapter 465

After A Deadly Game, Part Three

Episode 2.24

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: Not yet. Rating: K Time: See above.

The next two days were pure hell for Kate Beckett. There were no phone calls from the kidnappers and no useful new information. Beckett had even walked all the way from Castle's loft to the precinct to try to find some evidence of some sort, but in vain.

She and her team did have a visit from a Special Agent Terry Esclavier, whose voice still held a little of the accent of his boyhood home in Louisiana. "We've found nothing useful on a Hassan Abu Bakir."

"You couldn't find anything?" Esposito broke in angrily.

"We found too much." Esclavier tossed a sheaf of reports onto the desk. "We have Hassan Abu Bakir who's in his eighties and dying in Riyadh of cancer. We have sixteen year old Hassan Abu Bakir who's too young to be your suspect who bought the car. We have illiterate Hassan Abu Bakir and one who can't speak anything but Arabic. We have a dead one and one who lost his legs in a drone strike two years ago. We have more that are scattered from Morocco to the southern Philippines, none of whom match our suspect. And we have to consider that your boy may have picked the name out of the air. Or, that the man who bought your Mercedes could do an Arab accent well enough to fool some car salesman and is about as Islamic as my old dog, Fatso."

"Is there any reason that Islamic radicals would go after Castle?" Beckett asked.

"None that we can find." Esclavier admitted. "We did get some info on Gulf Systems, Inc. from the UAE, though. It's small one airplane airline run by a couple of Russians, the Rotmisov brothers, who deserted from the Russian Air Force about seven years ago and stole an Antonov 12. In spite of the company being registered in the UAE, they operate in Africa. They'll fly anything that will make them money, guns, drugs, blood diamonds, people, anything. Somebody might have paid them to use the company name to purchase the car, or maybe someone just used the company name, figuring by the time anyone found out, they'd be long gone. Anyway, we've been told the Rotmisovs, and their aircraft, are in the Democratic Republic of Congo being a giant pain in the ass to the UN. And nothing connects them to Mr. Castle."

"You've been told?" Espo asked. "By whom?"

"That's strictly on a need to know basis, Detective, and I'm apparently one of the people who doesn't need to know. We also checked the Mercedes dealer in New Jersey to see if they're in the habit of renting cars to suicide bombers or any other anti-social types, but they come off as clean. We've contacted other Federal agencies to see if Mr. Castle comes up on their radar, but no one's admitting to anything."

"No one's admitting to anything?" Kate asked. "What the hell does that mean?"

Esclavier tried to appease her. "Let's say an agency is watching the people who took Castle. But the people who grabbed them are small fry. They want the big fish. They don't want say, the NYPD to go rescue Castle and let the big boys skip. So, they play dumb when we ask."

Kate was trying to control her temper. "I don't care about big fish or small fry. Castle's my partner and I damned well want him back. If anyone stood by and let him…." Kate found she couldn't say the word "die" where Castle was concerned. "They don't want to find out what I'll do if something happens."

Espo broke in to keep Beckett from losing it completely. "Did you talk to OGA?"

Esclavier smiled. "I'm not at liberty to say anything about OGA."

"So you did talk to them."

Esclavier just smiled.

"What's OGA?" Kate asked.

"Other Government Agency. It's a euphemism for the CIA and its people. When I was in Iraq, we worked with what were called Iraqi OGAs. That is, Iraqis paid, equipped, trained and led by CIA Special Activities Division people. Not nice people at all, but very good at what they did."

When Esclavier left, Esposito and Ryan talked to Beckett. "Don't worry. We'll find him. We'll get him back."

She knew they were trying to help, but she couldn't quite believe it. "Thanks, guys. But we both know better than that, don't we? Castle might be…gone right now. Something went wrong, they got rid of him. That's why there's no ransom call."

Ryan shook his head. "They'd still ask for a ransom. They wouldn't be able to give proof of life, but the family might still pay. Worth a phone call. There's still hope."

Kate nodded. "I have to go see Lanie." Before they could say anything more, Beckett had headed for the elevator.

"Kate! How are you doing, sweetie? Anything on Castle?" The ME asked her friend.

"Nothing. Not one damned thing. I'm so frustrated I could just…I don't know what I could do."

"You broke up with Tom Demming just before Castle went missing, didn't you?"

Kate nodded. "Castle invited me to go to the Hamptons with him. But I've found out he asked his ex-wife to go too. I don't know whether he asked her after I turned him down, or before. Does he really like me and want more, or was he just being polite to me?" Kate was fighting back tears. "I did the same thing I always do when someone gets close to me, I pushed him away. And I pushed him too hard. All I want is for Castle to come back to me so I can find out where I stand with him. I just wish I could have said all the things I didn't, and not say all the things I did to push him away. I'm so mad at myself and so worried…"

Lanie put her arms around her friend. "You know, Castle never had much of an idea of where he stood with…"

"I know. I know, dammit. I just want him to know. And I want to know and I want us to see what happens, because we could be…" Kate stopped. "I don't know, but I want to know."

"Sweetie…" Lanie began.

Kate pulled away. "I need to do some work." And she was gone.

The fifth day was a disaster. Agent Winwood was in Montgomery's office when Kate arrived. He called her in.

"Detective Beckett, "Winwood said, "the FBI is pulling out of the investigation. Five days is too long without a ransom call. We're assuming something else happened to Mr. Castle."

Kate was shocked. "You can't. What if there is a call, then what…"

"We're leaving the equipment at the loft for now, but unmanned. We'll leave it there for a bit." She smiled coldly at Beckett. "I'm sure Castle will show up in a few days, hung over and with some bimbo with him, spouting some tale and asking for forgiveness." Winwood stood and left.

"She doesn't know Castle at all." Beckett said bitterly. "She doesn't know how to be a damned cop, either."

"And we know both, Beckett. So get out there and find him."

"Yes, sir."

She explained what had happened to her team.

"What do we do now?" Ryan asked.

"I have an idea. I'll be gone for a bit."

Epso grabbed his coat. "We'll go with you."

She shook her head. "No."

Kate Beckett walked into Coles, a bar in Midtown Manhattan. She spotted her quarry in the back and headed for him. As she had expected, she found her way barred by a large, muscular man.

"Can I help you, Detective?" His accent was pure New Jersey.

She nodded towards the man behind him. "I'm here to see Sal Tenor."

"There's no Sal Tenor here. So, unless you have a warrant or a subpoena, you can leave, Detective."

Kate unclipped her badge and put it on the bar. "I'm not here as a detective today, I'm here as a friend of Richard Castle's. Now are you going to get out of my way, or am I going to have to move you?"

The man laughed and Kate readied a kick.

"Vinnie! Vinnie, where are your manners? The lady is a friend of Richard Castle's. Please, come sit with me."

Kate sat across from Sal Tenor, a friend of Castle's who was in organized crime. Tenor smiled at her. "Since you're not here as a cop, have a drink with me."

Kate was about to decline, but decided this might be a test. "White wine, please."

"Claudia! Another Scotch for me and a white wine. The good stuff." After a second he added. "No, not the good stuff from under the bar, the good stuff from in the back."

Kate found the wine to be very good as she told Sal Tenor what had happened to Castle. "So, I thought that the Spolanos might have it in for Castle since he helped stop the hit on Jimmy the Rat and helped catch Carla Cold Blood."

Sal looked thoughtful. "You'll understand that Junior Spolano and I are not BFFs. But, the Spolanos are running scared. If they could, they'd hit Jimmy the Rat and/ or Carla Cold Blood. Maybe, just maybe, they might want to send a message and shoot a Fed or even a New York cop. But what kind of a message does it send to kill a writer? And if they whacked Castle, "Sal hurriedly crossed himself, "which I hope they did not, they'd leave him someplace public. It sends no message if he's buried in a shallow grave in the Jersey pine barrens or sits next to Jimmy Hoffa in the Meadowlands. Not that I know anything about that."

"Of course not." Kate said with a straight face. "So no one you know of would want Castle or want to hurt him?"

Sal shook his head. "You're the real Nikki Heat, right?"

"She's a fictional character, but Castle said she's based on me. An idealized me, I think."

"I loved Derrick Storm, but I wasn't sure about his new character, Nikki Heat, a New York cop, and a good one. A damned good one. But I find myself rooting for Nikki Heat and her boyfriend, Mr. Rook, much to my surprise. Who knows what may happen to them?"

Beckett thanked Sal and left. She had another stop to make.

She walked into Finn Rourke's bar and stood next to the Irish crime boss. "I need to talk to you."

"And I don't need to talk to you." Rourke said loudly.

"My partner, Richard Castle, the writer, is missing. He was grabbed off the street. It looks like a professional job."

"You're insulting me, Detective. Watch your tongue." Rourke said loudly.

"Because of Castle and me, the Latin Kings lost their access to heroin from Afghanistan. You must be keeping an eye on the Latin Kings. Have you heard anything?"

Rourke glared at her. "Listen and listen well, Detective, I do not speak to the police. Not the Royal Ulster Constabulary, not the Feds and not the NYPD. If you persist…." His voice dropped to a whisper as if he were making a threat that he did not want witnessed. "The Latin Kings easily found a replacement for Dick Coonan and his heroin. In fact, they are getting it cheaper. They have no interest in Castle." Rourke's voice resumed its former volume. "So, leave here now, Detective, or suffer the consequences."

Kate turned and left. She got to her car and found one of the bartenders from Rourke's bar leaning on it. When she put her hand on the butt of her Glock, the man raised his hands.

"Just curious about something, Detective."

"What?"

"Did you really threaten to dismember Vinnie Borelli if he wouldn't let you see Sal Tenor?"

"How do you know about me seeing Tenor?"

He shrugged. "News travels fast."

"In that case, I wouldn't dream of threatening Mr. Borelli. We had a polite and civilized conversation and he let me past."

The bartender laughed. "A polite and civilized conversation with Vinnie Borelli?" He laughed again. "You got balls, Detective. And odd friends for a cop."

"Sal Tenor is Richard Castle's friend."

Kate returned to the precinct and poured over the records that Special Agent Esclavier had left them. She found absolutely nothing.

She returned to Castles loft to tell Martha and Alexis what had happened that day. They knew about the FBI dropping out of the case, of course, as he agent had already left.

"I'm intending to give that Winwood a piece of my mind." Martha said. "As well as a kick in the ass."

Kate shook her head. "Don't. We may need the FBI somewhere down the line."

Martha looked closely at Kate. "When did you eat last, dear?"

"I had a sandwich earlier…I think."

Martha took her arm. "Come with me. We ordered Chinese tonight. We have kung pao chicken, sweet and sour pork, pot stickers, and…Alexis, is there any sesame chicken left?"

"Yes, Grams. And rice and chow mein. I'll heat it up."

Kate had eaten half of her meal when Martha saw that she had fallen asleep sitting in the kitchen. She and Alexis took her arms and gently got her to her feet. "Come with me, Katherine. You need to get some sleep and we can't risk you driving home." They took her into Castle's bedroom, helped her undress and found one of Castle's tee shirts for her to wear.

Her last thought before she fell asleep was: I'm finally in Castle's bed, but without him.

It would be another month before they found any information about Richard Castle's whereabouts. That evidence would change everything they had thought they knew about the case.