52. Atlas Shrugged

April, 2010

Afaitu waited nervously at the closest Newrest bar to the International terminal. It was before 6 am; the flight from L.A. carrying Jim Beckett would be here at any second. Taking another sip of the delectable coffee, Afaitu sighed. He was exhausted and anxious. The events surrounding him had sped up so fast he felt like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz: in the middle of swirling events that were threatening to carry him off. He wondered if he should get a little dog.

Calling Jim to tell him about Martha's discovery that Kate had been pregnant in the year 2000 was absolutely the right thing to do. Learning that Grollet had involved the French Navy—had realized so quickly that Rick was gone and on a boat—had been devastating.

In his own mind, Afaitu knew he needed help. The situation was an enormous strain to handle when it was simply a matter of a long lost world-famous author wrongfully imprisoned in one of the worst prisons in all of France, whose world-famous mother helped obtain his release. Not to mention said world-famous author's ex-girlfriends and various other…girl…friends showing up to 'help'.

That kind of help he could do without. No, he'd felt like a side of beef going through a meat grinder, especially having to watch what he, Rick and Martha all said to the press and the world at large—making sure no one mentioned Kate or the little fact that she was actually alive and well (God willing) and just waiting for someone to come rescue her.

Now with the added bonuses of the fact that there was—were?—a child (children?) involved upped the ante considerably. The press was going to go ape over Kate to start with—Grollet would then have been caught in two lies, and when Kate had her chance to tell them what had happened…well, it was a huge story.

However, it was—at least from the Grollet aspect—mainly a political story. Oh, sure, the notoriety of Rick, the circumstances of the ship wreck, the romance of their falling in love and their survival against all odds made for a pretty compelling story, all in all. But the fallout from their rescue would be political, and political stories don't remain in the forefront of the world's attention for long. Another celebrity always manages to do something stupid, and suddenly no one remembers what they'd all been sighing over the week previous.

Yet, add a cute kid into the mix—a kid who has absolutely no knowledge of the rest of the world—and suddenly you have a plot that will mesmerize people for days, weeks…maybe months. It was far, far beyond what he'd expected when he'd listened with half an ear to Tamahere's initial yarn about the loose pig and the neighbor who wouldn't fix his fence. If he'd only known then what he knew now…

He knew in his heart that he wouldn't have changed a thing. Rick and Kate had desperately needed help, from someone who wasn't looking to exploit them. Tamahere had known enough about the initial situation—after recognizing that his friend Hopo was, in fact, not dead but alive in Nuutania—that he'd sought Afaitu out purposefully. He'd known that Afaitu was the great nephew of Anapa, and that knowledge was enough for him to hope that Afaitu carried a morsel of the morality and ethics that Anapa had exuded.

It had all worked out well. They'd been extremely lucky, fortunate, or whatever word you wanted to use. For having to plan most things by the seat of his derriere, he was very pleased with how it had all been humming along. Until Marcel Laurent had sat down across from him and told him about the French Naval mobilization. Suddenly it was more than clear that this was not some bloodless chess game that he was playing.

Grollet had been backed into a corner, and had come out swinging with missiles. It'd been enough to give Afaitu a continuous burning sensation in his gut and watery diarrhea, though he didn't care to share that with anyone. He'd suspected Grollet would fight back tooth and nail, but the thought of it and the reality of what it meant were two different animals. He just couldn't shoulder this crushing responsibility anymore.

Spying the man who would be his personal version of Atlas, Afaitu stood so abruptly that he spilled coffee on his shirt. Grimacing, he cleaned himself up as best he could while waving simultaneously to get Jim's attention. He had to chuckle to himself as Jim walked towards him. He had learned all about the true meaning of the word catastrophe since meeting Tamahere those weeks ago. Once upon a time, he would have thought coffee stains all over his dress shirt at 6:30 a.m. would have merited the use of the word. Nowadays, he knew it was just an inconvenience.

"Jim! How was the flight?" he queried as he finished cleaning up the spilt Java. Throwing away all the detritus from his wait for the older man, he held his hand out. Jim reached out and shook it, an amused look on his face.

"Fine, fine. Everything ok, son?"

"Yeah, just a little anxious to see you and get you caught up on everything. I've got my car just across the way here, in the garage."

They began walking in the direction he indicated.

"Did everything go well through Customs?"

"Yes, though I think my name must have been flagged. There were raised eyebrows on the customs agent who was reviewing my passport, and she called over her supervisor. They were reading some orders that I couldn't see, and had some pointed questions as to why I was here."

"What'd you tell them?"

"Just what we'd discussed earlier. That Martha needed my help, that I was her agent. It's the truth, and they couldn't find a reason to detain me, but I could see they were flustered. I think it's safe to assume that Grollet knows that I'm here, or soon will."

"Well, it can't be helped. We knew it was a risk, but the advantage of you being here far outweighs it. I just cannot keep up with everything alone."

"I agree, and I'm eager to get started. I slept on the plane, so I'm ready to get down to business. Shall we call Martha and have her meet us somewhere to discuss plans?"

As they exited to the garage, the man who had been following them reached for his cell phone in his pocket. He was going to need further instructions.

"Are you ready to go back to work tomorrow, baby?" Lanie purred in her husband's ear as he reached for their suitcases in the trunk.

"Wha? No, no I'm not ready. Lanie, I'm still wishin' we was on the beach. Hard to believe only yesterday we was layin' on towels with just our bathing suits on. New York weather really stinks sometimes."

Lanie reached past him to grab a few of the smaller items. "I'm gonna run these up and take a quick shower. You wouldn't think sitting in a car for twelve hours would make you feel gross, but it does."

She gave her hubby a quick kiss, then bounced into their apartment building. She couldn't wait to get out of her clothes and into a hot shower. They'd been in the Hilton Head area for ten days—a second honeymoon of sorts. Married two years now, they were celebrating their marriage, his promotion, and their decision that it was time to start trying for a baby.

Flipping the lights on in the dark foyer, she was momentarily surprised there weren't any newspapers threatening to trip her, until she remembered they'd had them held while they were gone. A neighbor had agreed to get their mail, and the dog was still at the kennel. She sighed; it was good to be home, though they'd really enjoyed their time off.

They'd originally planned to go to Las Vegas. She'd not been for several years, and she'd looked forward to seeing some shows and shopping. Then a friend had mentioned his family's beach house would be open the days they'd taken off: rent was marginal, and it had a private access beach. Unable to turn down such a great deal, they'd driven to South Carolina and fallen in love with the place. It was very private, but close enough to town that they could easily eat out if they wanted.

It had boasted a private pool, hot tub, exceptional views of the Atlantic, and a master suite to die for. They'd spent nearly all their time just by themselves. In the end, she thought it was a far better way to engage with her spouse. They'd been alone to reconnect, were able to just be with each other and not worry about gambling or going to shows or running around the Strip. She felt completely relaxed and content.

Nothing had interfered with their alone time. They'd agreed to leave the world behind, so to speak, and hadn't watched TV or been online to check email or anything else. It had been like they were in their own little bubble, and nothing and no one could penetrate the shell. They'd even turned their cells off for the trip: they took them, in case something happened, but they left them off for the duration.

However, reality was slowly re-emerging into sight. Being out of touch with the world for ten days had been great, but she was ready to talk to someone other than her husband. The blinking of her notifications as her phone rebooted showed she'd missed a number of calls and even more texts. Debating whether to put them off until after her shower or not, she decided she'd better look at them and at least make sure everyone she loved was still alive.

Oddly, it appeared most of the calls and texts were from Jenny O'Malley. She was Kevin's new girlfriend*, and it seemed that they were getting pretty serious. Lanie had met her two months previously, and the two women had really hit it off. There weren't many women in her line of work, and even fewer that Lanie liked well enough to get to know better. Jenny was sweet and bubbly; innocent on the outside, though she had enough of a hidden wild streak that she and Lanie got on very well.

Terrified that something had happened to Kevin, Lanie decided to call without reading the texts or listening to any of the messages.

"Lanie?"

"Hey, Jenny. Yeah, we're back. Just pulled in and turned my phone on. Saw you'd left a bunch of messages."

"Oh, yeah, oh my gosh. Sorry about that. I didn't mean to scare you."

Lanie gasped in relief. "So you and Kev are both ok? I was so worried."

"No, no. We're fine. How was the trip?"

Lanie gushed about their vacation, heart rate slowly settling down as the adrenaline prompted by the fear she'd experienced on seeing so many messages dissipated.

"Sounds like you two had a great time."

"Yeah, we really did. It's a long car ride though. We listened to a couple of books on tape, though my husband wasn't too impressed with my choices. It's a good thing he loves me so much." This was directed at the man in question more than anything, as he schlepped their bags in the front door. He just grinned, then nodded in understanding at her silent mouthing of Jenny's name when he raised his eyebrows and looked at her phone.

Jenny laughed. "Oh, Lanie, you two have such a great relationship. I hope to have your kind of marriage someday."

"Well, it takes work, believe me, girl. But, he's worth it. Listen, I should get off of here; my big, strong man just brought in the rest of our stuff and I want to get some laundry done before it gets too late."

"Ok, I'm so glad you're back. But, hey, before I forget, did you happen to catch any of the news while you were gone?"

Lanie paused as she was about to hang up. "Uh, no. We didn't want to have anything intrude on our time, so we never even turned on the TV. Why?"

"Well, I was just wondering if you'd seen the news about the rescue. He was with your friend, wasn't he? I was sure I remember you talking about her once. It happened all so long ago, I know you don't like to think about it. But what if she's alive too? I mean they found him, so maybe she's.."

"Jenny!" Lanie couldn't get a word in edgewise—a very unusual circumstance for her. Bemused by her friend's verbal diarrhea, she hadn't made heads or tails of what Jenny was trying to tell her. "Now, remember I have no idea what you're talking about. Start at the beginning, please?"

"Oh, sorry, Lanie! I just get so caught up in it. It's so romantic. Anyway, weren't you friends with that girl who was shipwrecked in Tahiti? Kate Beckett?"

Lanie felt the fizz of adrenaline racing through her again. Clutching the handset tighter, she managed only a curt response. "Yes."

"Well, remember she was on the same boat as that mystery writer? Rick Castle? I remember wondering what he was doing all the way out there on a cargo ship, but one of my friends told me he was researching a new character. I would never have thought that he'd need to go that far away. He was quite the playboy, back then, right? I remember reading one time in People that…"

"Jenny! What about Kate?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Well, they found him."

"I don't understand. They found the shipwreck? His body?"

"No, Lanie. They found him. Alive. After 10 years. Can you believe it?"

Lanie felt dizzy. Couldn't imagine that someone would be found ten years later, especially given the circumstances under which they'd been lost. It was unthinkable. "And Kate?" she asked faintly. "What about her?"

"I haven't seen anything about her. It's been all over the news here. Much more exciting than that big oil spill in the Gulf, though that is really, really sad. I feel so bad for all the poor animals and birds."

"Jenny, I have to go. Thank you so much for calling." Lanie hung up as her friend was chattering her goodbye. She felt numb. Could Kate have been alive this whole time? Where was she? What had happened?

Looking up, she saw her husband staring at her with concern.

"Are you all right? You look like you've seen a ghost. What'd Jenny say?"

Lanie looked at him with both hope and dread. She'd spent months coming to grips with Kate's death, and the fact that her friend had only been in the South Pacific because Lanie had practically forced her to go. The guilt and the memories dredged up by the mention of the wreck were always bubbling just beneath the surface; normally she could ruthlessly suppress them, but if there was a chance Kate was alive….

"Javi, you need to go right now and buy all the newspapers you can find that mention Richard Castle."

Rick woke drenched in sweat. He'd been dreaming…well, it was more like a nightmare. He'd arrived at the island—it was exactly as he remembered it, right down to the beaches outside the channel. He'd gotten in a boat; the nervous excitement of seeing them all again warring with his body, making him tremble as he tried to navigate safely through the rocks waiting to tear them apart. He'd made it though, popping through the channel and into the lake inside the island.

He'd started screaming, yelling their names. The dock was gone: no trace of it or the boats anywhere to be seen. He rammed the vessel carrying him onto the beach, jumping out before it had come to a halt. Running, he continued crying for them. It was silent. Ominously so—no birdsong, no insect hum. Just the sound of the wind rustling through empty spaces and his voice echoing back to him.

The kitchen was gone. Racing past it into the trees that gave way to the clearing where he'd built their house, he fell to his knees. Nothing was there. Nothing that even resembled anything of their time together. They had never been. He'd collapsed to the sandy floor, wanting nothing more than to crawl into the earth and finding oblivion.

That's when he woke up. It had felt so real: he could almost taste the sand in his mouth. The tears streaming down his face were irrefutable evidence of how scared he'd been. Wiping them away in haste, he concentrated on thinking of her and that she was still there. Waiting for him. Alive and well. He clutched his wedding ring, hanging on its cord as it had since he'd received it back. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on how she felt. Her scent. The way her hair looked in the sunlight. Her smile. The joy she had with the children. She was fine. They were fine. They had to be.

It was late morning. He'd been shoved into his cabin by Salesi shortly after confessing to the group how many kids he had. The memories had so overwhelmed him that he'd been lost to everyone for some time, recalling different scenes and events with his family. The rest of the men with him had seen how exhausted he was, especially after being forced to tell them the truth that he'd kept hidden for so long. So scared that revealing it would lead to further disaster. So, they'd put Salesi in charge of him, and his babysitter had decided that he needed to sleep. Right then. It had been a long day and longer night, so Rick hadn't argued. Much.

Now that he was dressed and the last vestiges of that awful nightmare purged from his brain, he was ready to see what the plan was going to be. Between them all, he was confident something reasonable could be drawn up.

He walked into the lounge where he'd last seen the rest of the men. Salesi was seated in a chair. He acknowledged Rick with a tiny nod, but it was enough. Rick knew, no matter what else might happen, that Salesi had his back. It was a comfort, in a world of discomfort.

Tamahere was drinking a cup of coffee; of the journalists, only Laurent was present. Rick suspected Ari'i was up on the bridge. Tamahere stood as soon as Rick had poured himself a cup of the ships nasty coffee. It was far better than what he'd had to drink in Nuutania or on the island…in other words something was better than nothing.

"Hopo, now that you are awake and able to think, I will go get Ari'i so we can make our plans."

Rick nodded, sitting next to Salesi. He might need the big guy for support. Tamahere left the room. Rick could feel Laurent looking at him. Let him look. He could not be intimidated by methods like this. He'd survived prison with far worse than uncomfortable silences being the price for staring at someone.

Laurent seemed to realize that normal methods were not going to impress Rick, so he moved to sit closer to the two other men, then opened a dialog as best he could.

"M. Rodgers, I believe you're aware that Afaitu allowed me a copy of your writing so far?"

Rick shrugged. "I was not aware of that; it just said he told you the story, or that you read it. Why did he give you a copy?"

"I believe it was because he trusted me, although he didn't have much choice at the time. I hope you'll develop the same trust. We are on the same side here."

"What side is that, exactly?"

"You want to rescue Kate and the children with no harm coming to any of them, vrai?

"Yes. But what is it that you want?"

"I want nothing more than your story. As I'm the only journalist here, it seems my wish is coming true. I will get the exclusive on your life with Kate on the island."

"And if we refuse to give you the full story?"

"I do not think that is advisable, monsieur. You know as well as I that Grollet is searching for her. Your best hope, for her and the children's safety, is to get her story out as quickly as possible."

Rick nodded, staring absently into his cup. The plan about giving Laurent the story made sense. He knew from the note the night before that they had access to the AFP satellites. That the minute Laurent went live with his story of Kate, that she was safe. The world would not abide Grollet harming her once they knew she was alive and well.

The part that they had to figure out first, was how to separate enough from the naval ships to hide where they were going. If they steamed right towards the island, she was as good as dead. Grollet had access to much faster means of transportation. Since neither cargo boat was noted to be especially quick, it seemed impossible to remain on board.

If they were able to somehow slip past the watchful eyes and ears employed by the Snake, the next problem would be arriving back to Fenua Pari with at least one journalist (and probably his whole crew) in tow. It would be obvious to Kate that she had no say in whether she would be participating in the interview. His wife was not one for surprises, not ones that impacted her life.

His hope was that she would understand the pressing need for them to present the story to the world. She was an incredible mother, and she'd never put her children at risk. Of course, after being gone for so long, he hoped she'd listen to him. His disappearance had been a complete accident, and he knew without even asking that she'd been grieved and worried for him all these months. She'd be ecstatic to see him, but angry that he'd disappeared in the first place.

"Gentleman, I'm glad you're all here," Ari'i stated as he strode through the door, Tamahere trailing just behind. "We have some important decisions to make."

He was holding a black rectangle, about the size of a piece of paper. It was very thin, but it looked like it was glass. Rick had no idea what it was for. Ari'i motioned for the rest of them to follow him. They filed into the attached dining room and all sat at a table, waiting expectantly for the captain to lead things off.

"M. Laurent, do you wish to have your colleagues to join us?"

"Oui, that would be a good idea." He started to stand, but Ari'i waved him down. He had a walkie-talkie type of gadget, and asked to have the two men sent to them. Then he opened the discussion.

"As you all know, we are being monitored. Our movements are mirrored by some Naval ships. I have no doubt this is through the actions of the President, as M. Laurent has told us about. However, neither I nor Reva have the capability in our ships to do anything about it. We had initially believed that there might only be one ship to outmaneuver. That is not the case."

While he was speaking, Guilbert and Loison entered and sat down, also listening attentively.

"Sir, if I may, there are some plans that we did not speak of last night, given our late arrival and the high emotion surrounding our appearance," Laurent said.

Ari'i nodded at him and encouraged him to continue.

"Afaitu was aware of the difficulties you faced, and said much the same as you have. Fortunately, Loison here is a veteran of planning stories that are very difficult—whether they are remote, or just in inhospitable places. To that end, we were very fortunate he was here. He made some arrangements before we left, and I believe we have a solution."

The eyes of the group turned to Loison. Rick had thought he looked unfriendly and aloof the night before. However, as he began to spell out the plan, Rick quickly revised his impression. The man was a genius. A genius who was going to help rescue his family.

The private line rang. Only one person it could be.

"What?" As he listened to what Tane had to report, Henri felt a wave of ice cold panic grip him. Ruthlessly shoving it down, he barked at Tane to get his ass over to the Presidential office ASAP.

After hanging up, he barked again, this time at his secretary to get Vice-Amiral Evrard on the line for him. Waiting for the call, he leaned back in his chair, one arm thrown over his eyes. Jim Beckett was here. What did it mean?

When his secretary finally patched the Vice-Amiral through, Henri had regained his equanimity. Listening to the report, he decided it was close enough to time. He told the Naval chief what he wanted, then quashed all of his concerns and blathering. Grollet didn't care what was and what was not protocol. He would do what he wanted. It was why he was President. He knew what he wanted and he went after it.

Tane arrived about twenty minutes later, travel bag in hand.

"Did you bring everything you'll need?" Henri couldn't help but ask. He could take no risks, no chances at this stage.

"Yeah."

"You've got everything? Nothing you'll need later?"

"I'm ready, sir. I've got it all."

"Good, because we're leaving on a helicopter in ten minutes, to fly to the naval base. They'll take us to the main ship coordinating the search from the base. We'll have it all taken care of soon, Tane. It's so close, I can taste it. I just don't want anything left to chance."

Tane set his bag down. "Do you want to see it for yourself?"

"No, no. That's not necessary. You said you've got it, I believe you. And you've got all your supplies?"

Tane nodded.

"Ok, that's good. Just need to be sure. Because I'm pretty certain the French Navy isn't going to just hand you a gun or ammunition."

*Jenny O'Malley's first appearance on screen was at the end of "The Mistress Always Spanks Twice," which aired originally March 8, 2010. Thus, Kevin and Jenny's relationship was relatively new in April, 2010.