56. Highway to Hell

April, 2010

"They are ten minutes out, Capitaine."

Tissot sighed. "Maintain our heading. Steady at current speed," he ordered. The men obeyed with alacrity, hoping everything would go smoothly.

Once he was satisfied with their course, Tissot turned to his radio operator. "Contact the helicopter and let them know our position."

"Yes, sir."

Turning back to the wide view of the sea from his bridge, Tissot hoped this would all soon be over. His orders from the naval base had been to continue to pursue the two cargo boats, and to prepare for the arrival of President Grollet and some of his staff. Unfortunately, these two orders had proven to be mutually exclusive.

The intimation had been that the cargo ships were on their way to the old site of the shipwreck with Richard Rodgers. Tissot theorized that Grollet wanted to be part of the photo op…there was no reason he could think of that would lead a President out onto the high seas like this. It was all quite strange.

He'd followed his orders to a T, staying just out of sight of the cargo boats, but keeping a close eye on them through radar. He knew they'd come very close to each other the previous night, and some tenders had gone back and forth. Now they were both once again headed east; the Vaitiare a bit south of the Oriata.

They were headed directly for the Tuamotu/Gambier island groups. The Tuamotus were coral atolls; not many were inhabited, but some were. The famous black pearls of Tahiti were cultured in these atolls. The Gambiers were further south, and were composed of the remnants of old volcanos, and were considered high islands. He thought it made sense for one of the uninhabited islands to have been the site of Rodgers' home for so long.

However, he'd lost radar contact with the two cargo ships. He'd been forced to veer off course to satisfy the second half of his orders: to welcome Grollet on board. Tissot and his crew had a much faster ship than the two cargo carriers, so he hoped he'd easily be able to pick them up again. First, he'd had to detour into chopper range so that Grollet could come aboard. This was not a trivial matter in the wide open space of the Southern Pacific, and they were now several hours away from the last position of the cargo ships. They'd be lucky to find them again before nightfall.

The way he figured it, if they lost them, so be it. Neither ship had been suspected of anything illegal, as far as he knew. This all smacked of the hubris of Grollet wanting in on an historic moment. And for that, Stephane didn't give the proverbial ass d'un rat.

Kelsey Webb was in a bind. She'd spent the morning interviewing Meredith Harper. It had been an…interesting …conversation, to say the least. First of all, Meredith loved to talk about herself, so in that sense it had been easy. However, what she had to say didn't necessarily match up with what Kelsey had heard from other people.

Meredith had gushed over Rick Castle. They had been in an established relationship back in 1997. There were pictures and interviews that proved that point. Despite Ms. Harper's claims that things had still been going strong between them at the time of Mr. Castle's disappearance, Kelsey had her doubts.

Her research partner in the States claimed that Rick had basically left the U.S. in the year 1998, ostensibly to research a new character for a series of books—only one of which had been published, posthumously. Yet, he'd remained in the South Pacific long after that—in fact about a year—before his disappearance. Kelsey could find no record of Meredith visiting him; in fact, there were traceable records of her working on films and TV during that time.

Confronted with this, Meredith had brushed it off. Kelsey's trained eye had detected no signs of dissembling, but the woman was an actress. That was when Meredith had pulled out the ring.

Claiming they'd actually been engaged before his disappearance, Kelsey had been stunned. And thrilled. No one in the entire world had been reporting this kind of information, and there was a white hot interest in all things Castle right now. She couldn't believe she was going to get to be the one to break it.

Later, after the initial rush of excitement had faded, she read back through the notes she'd taken. It was long on Meredith said this and Meredith said that, but short on anyone else. That's when Kelsey started to get a quiver of anxiety that her interviewee might not have told her the entire truth. It was a teeny quiver, but still noticeable.

She called in her bits of the story so far, to run it past her editors. They were ecstatic at what she'd found, but also cautious. There is no worse feeling in the news biz than to publish something electrifying, only to have the truth blow it out of the water. Even in the entertainment world, which sometimes played loose with the veracity of its sources, verifying a story like this was required.

The man of the hour, Richard Castle, was missing. Which made her nose twitch harder. If he'd been gone from a fiancée for ten years, wouldn't he want to spend all of his time with her?

Yet, aside from the press conference a few days ago, no one had even seen Richard Castle in the same room as Meredith Harper. And it wasn't due to the couple reuniting in privacy, as Ms. Harper made it a point to be seen several times a day by the press corp. Sans her purported fiancé. It was decidedly odd.

Thus, Kelsey had sought out Paula Haas just after lunch. They'd known each other superficially for years—Paula represented several famous authors, though none bigger than Rick Castle.

In all the years that she'd known her, Kelsey had never seen Paula in a state like today. Distracted, edgy, not even paying attention to much that Kelsey asked. She had the feeling that if she'd asked Paula to confirm that Rick Castle was slated to run for President in the fall that the woman would have said yes.

Kelsey hadn't gotten an answer to the questions she'd come with. However, she'd been handed a new set of questions, when Gina Powell had wandered into the room she'd met Paula in. Kelsey had been about to leave, so was at the door, when Gina entered the room reading from a tablet. Neither woman had paid any attention to the reporter, who slowed her exit markedly when she heard Gina reading out loud.

"It says here she went on a vacation of sorts in late 1999, ending up somehow in Tahiti. She booked passage on the boat that Rick was working on. She was presumed lost at sea the same time he was."

"Wasn't there some sort of scandal about her dad?" Paula queried.

"Well, he was a drunk, though obviously he turned it all around at some point. You don't get to his position without being on top of your game. But all the publicity from her disappearance brought her mother's murder into the spotlight."

"Yeah, yeah, I remember now. It was a huge deal, at the time."

"Yep. Eclipsed only by 9/11, but by that time all the trials were essentially over."

"Huh. Sure makes you wonder what Jim Beckett is doing here in Tahiti, don't it?"

That had been enough for Kelsey. She'd raced back to her hotel and contacted her assistant immediately. They'd spent the next few hours burning up the line between Papeete and New York.

Now, she had even more questions without answers. And still no sign of Rick Castle to answer them. However, she wanted to put to rest some of the most egregious statements made by Meredith that morning. With that in mind, she made yet another phone call.

"Hopo, it's time," cried Tamahere as he pounded on his door.

Rick vaulted up. He'd fallen into a restless sleep, and the adrenaline of what was about to happen made him feel like he was jump out of his skin.

"Coming," he responded. He grabbed his bag, checking it for the thousandth time. Nothing had moved; it was all still there. He imagined the scene when he saw her again, and tears threatened to overwhelm him. They were so close.

He tore off his shipboard clothes and donned the skintight outfit he'd been given by Laurent. It was made of a material that was lightweight, but warm. He was going to need it, despite the hot, humid air that bathed the South Pacific normally.

Leaving his cabin for the last time, he made sure once more he wasn't leaving anything behind. If all went well, he might not even see this boat again.

He picked his way forward. Ari'i and Tamahere were standing in the bow. The captain was dressed traditionally, though Tamahere was wearing clothes that matched Rick's. The three men from the AFP and Salesi were standing to a side next to a large Zodiac that was ready to be winched overboard. They were also all wearing the same type of suit that Rick had donned.

Ari'i had a crewman with a ukulele, who was already playing a song that Ari'i and Tamahere sang to. Rick recognized it from his time aboard the Iriata—it was a song for Ari'i's taua, or guardian spirit. In Ari'i's case a tohora, or whale.

It was just before sunset, and the sky appeared to be on fire. It was one of the most beautiful sunsets Rick had ever seen. His fervent prayer was that it would be the last sunset he saw without Kate.

Shouts from some of the other crewmen alerted him to look out to the eastern horizon. They were stopped just west of the Gambiers, some good 8 hours by Zodiac to Fenua Pari, or Tuaivi if you wanted to be technical.

They had planned to launch the Zodiac around this time, and the Vaitiare would head in another direction. However, Loison hadn't had a good plan to evade the radar of the French vessels. He was worried that they would be spotted and tracked no matter what they did. That's when Ari'i stepped in and said it wouldn't be a problem.

Rick had noticed the reporters' skeptical looks. He didn't share them. He'd seen too much in his months with the Polynesian crew to doubt what they claimed. If Ari'i stated it wasn't a problem, then it wouldn't be a problem. And here he had proof of his claims.

"Launch the boat," he heard from the captain. A sizzle of pure energy bolted through him. To calm himself, he looked up into the darkening sky.

"I'm coming, Kate. I'm coming."

Martha had decided to meet Jim for dinner, though her hotel would not do for them. Not with her watchers all over the place. Not to mention reporters.

Afaitu had claimed fatigue and begged off. Martha realized it was probably more than mere fatigue. Tonight was the night that Richard was scheduled to get into the Zodiac and somehow elude the French navy while he sped toward Katie.

It was a terrifying prospect, and their inability to receive any communications from the crew of the Zodiac or the Vaitiare made it even worse. No, she was certain Afaitu was not merely fatigued. The pressure the man had been under to get all of this off the ground was unbelievable. He deserved a night to rest and worry alone.

She and Jim had agreed to meet at his hotel restaurant. It was much quieter, and he'd not seen any signs of men observing him. That didn't mean there weren't any, but they weren't obvious about it.

He stood to greet her when she arrived.

"Martha, you're looking as lovely as always."

"Oh, Jim, I'm sure I'm a fright. Tonight at least." She kissed his cheek and allowed him to seat her.

The wait staff was quite discreet, which suited the two of them perfectly. She felt safe discussing things about their children here.

"I wonder how it's going?" she sighed.

"I'm sure it's fine. We have to trust in Richard. He'll find her."

"You're right, I know my son is a very capable man. That comes through in the things he's written about so far. I would have never guessed that he could do such things. But how are you doing, Jim? This has got to be harder on you, not knowing how she is, if she's safe."

"It is, but I just have to have faith that it'll all work out. You've read the way he writes about her. Theirs is a relationship that has stood the test of time. It reads like a love story for the ages. I guess the romantic in me is certain they'll get their happy ending. The father in me is still worried, of course. But Richard won't rest until he finds her."

Martha nodded, then was distracted by the arrival of their meals. They made some small talk as they ate, neither wanting to dwell on the inexorable worry that could grind them down if allowed free rein.

Just as they were finishing up their last bites, Jim's cell rang.

"It's Celeste. Excuse me for a minute, Martha."

"Oh, don't worry, darling. Tell her 'Hi' for me."

Jim stepped away a few feet to greet his wife. Martha could tell he was a bit surprised by whatever she had to say, as his voice rose just enough that she could hear what he was saying.

"She what?" He started pacing.

"What did you tell her?"

"No, that's fine. Clearly it's not as covert as we'd hoped." He was running one hand through his hair, which Martha knew was a sure sign of distress in her manager. She was becoming quite alarmed at the little bit of the conversation she could hear.

"Ok, give them the directions. But warn them, no one else. I won't accept anyone besides them."

His voice dropped again, as he made his goodbyes. Hanging up, he gave Martha an inscrutable look.

"We need to leave. Let's pay and go up to my room."

"What is it, Jim? What's wrong?"

"Not here, Martha. Wait until we get to my room."

They paid, and she accompanied him on trembling legs to his room. It was a standard hotel room, much smaller than her suite. However, the small size of the room turned out to be a blessing when he put a finger to his lips after they walked in the door.

Remaining silent, he strode to the safe and removed an electronic device. Switching it on, he swept the entire room in a manner of minutes, carefully examining every nook and cranny with it. Finally satisfied, he shut it off and motioned for her to take a seat on the bed.

"Sorry about that; Afaitu told me to bring some equipment to sweep for bugs. I haven't found any, but I know they've been listening to your room. They don't seem to care about me as much."

"Probably because Grollet is too busy following Richard. Now, tell me what on earth you heard from Celeste that upset you so much?"

His mouth twisted into a grimace. "It was certainly not good news. She was contacted today by People magazine. They wanted to 'discuss' Richard's rescue with me and how it might impact me in terms of Katie's disappearance and presumed death. She said they actually used the word 'presumed'!"

"Goodness, Jim. Do you think they know something?"

"I'm not sure, but it gets worse. She said that their reporter here, Kelsey Webb, had uncovered some information about Katie, and they wanted confirmation. However, since they couldn't find me, they tried a different source."

"Well, they certainly didn't call me! Who on earth did they speak with?"

Jim opened his mouth to answer when a loud rap on the door interrupted him. Crossing to the door, he peered through the peephole to confirm the identity of the visitor, then opened the door.

Martha was shocked to see Paula and Gina shove Meredith into the room. The red head looked as though she were outraged. Her skin was splotchy red in places, and Martha would have hazarded an Oscar that the woman's blood pressure was well past normal. She'd never seen her in such a state, even when Meredith and Richard were at their worst before their breakup.

Jim closed the door quickly behind the three women, then walked around them to move closer to his friend. Martha could see that both Paula and Gina looked curious, but neither was enraged, unlike Meredith. Dismissing them in her head, she looked back at the woman, who appeared ready to spit nails. Taking her cue from Jim, she just waited. Meredith had come to them; she would need to be the one to speak.

"Are you Jim Beckett, Martha's agent?" Meredith snarled.

Jim nodded. "Yes. And you're Meredith Harper?"

Meredith ignored his question. She turned her attention to Martha next. At first she just stared at her. The animosity in her gaze was disconcerting. Martha would never have imagined that the woman was capable of such ire. She'd always been so self-centered; Martha had never thought she'd ever be able to get this worked up about something.

The tension built, as no one made any sounds. Finally, Meredith could take it no longer. Her coiled body exploded into motion as she darted to Martha's side and seized her shoulders in an iron grip.

"Where is Katherine Beckett?" she snapped. "I know Rick is with her. Where the hell are they?"

Tissot and his crew stood at attention as the helicopter door opened and disgorged Grollet and his aide.

"Welcome aboard, sir. It's an honor to have you here."

"Thank you, Capitaine. I'm grateful you were able to help me out. Please, lead the way."

Stephane led them to the quarterdeck, intending to show them to their cabins.

"If you don't mind, Capitaine, we'd like to look over the progress you've made in tracking the ships."

Surprised, Tissot could only nod. "Then you'll allow one of my crewmen to take your bags to your quarters?"

"Certainly, certainly."

Tissot gestured for one of the waiting matelots, or seamen, to take the bags of Grollet and his aide, whom he'd introduced as Tane. He then took them to the bridge, to hear the results of the search.

"We found the cargo ship Vaitiare without any problem shortly after beginning the hunt for her. She initially was sailing due east, but then abruptly turned east-south-east," recited his best aspirant, or mid-shipman.

"Hmm, that is a bit odd, is it not?" mused Grollet.

"Well, perhaps, but after sailing about 12 hours she met up with another cargo boat, the Oriata. They exchanged some tenders, then departed each other after about 90 minutes."

"They exchanged tenders?" Grollet appeared alarmed. Any way of knowing if they exchanged any crewmen?"

"Not for certain, monsieur."

Grollet glanced at Tane, though it was so brief that Tissot doubted anyone else even noticed. "I suppose I would like to hear about what they did next."

"Well, the Oriata is headed east-north-east, toward the middle of the Tuamotu chain. The Vaitiare, on the other hand, has maintained a mostly eastern course. She is south of the Oriata, and appears to be going to the Gambiers."

"Gentleman, I have reason to believe that Rick Rodgers is headed back to the site of the shipwreck that changed all of our lives so long ago. He wouldn't tell me the location, as he is afraid he can't remember, and doesn't want to embarrass me. I, however, would like nothing more than to surprise him there. You men are going to help me do just that," he exclaimed, eliciting broad smiles from all the crew save for Tissot.

He couldn't help but wonder at the lengths Grollet was going to in order to surprise one man. Essentially subverting a naval ship did not speak of a mere wish to astonish another. No, there was something else going on. Stephane would still bet it was something to do with the press. Most politicians wouldn't tie a child's shoe unless they were guaranteed a positive report appearing in the paper.

Shortly after agreeing to seek out the Vaitiare, they were on an intercept course for the slower cargo ship.

"Monsieur President, it will be several hours before we would be near them. I suggest some rest and relaxation from your long day."

Grollet agreed, and left Tissot to his bridge and crew. It was a relief to have it back under his nominal command once again.

It was sunset before they finally found them. The Vaitiare had made better time than they'd imagined, but was still headed east.

Grollet and his aide had rejoined him after dinner. This did not help Stephane's digestion whatsoever.

"They are still headed east. This would put them near Mangareva, would it not?" Grollet asked.

"Oui, monsieur. Although they might alter course once they are closer."

"Capitaine, Capitaine, I have a problem," interrupted the radar technician.

"What is it?"

"There are multiple signals around the Vaitiare. She is not alone, sir."

"What? How can that be?"

The entire group gathered around the radar to see for themselves.

"Can you determine what kind of boats make those signals?" Tissot asked. He noticed that Grollet looked very pale.

"No, sir."

Tissot grabbed the key to his radio and asked for a visual report from the top deck.

"We cannot see anything sir. We're still too far away."

"Merde," came a whisper from behind him. When he turned to glare at whoever had muttered the expletive, he saw it must have come from Tane, who he had no authority over. Deciding to ignore it, Tissot ordered full engines ahead.

"We'll be in visual range in twenty minutes, sir."

Glancing at the clock, he wanted to swear as well. It would be full dark by then.

Suddenly, the radar operator sat up in his seat. "Sir, I know what they are," he exclaimed, hands clasped to his headphones. "Yes, I know exactly what has happened." He partially turned, taking off the headphones so he could speak directly to the men surrounding him. "It is a pod of whales, sir. The headphones are full of their song."

"Whales? What are they doing?" Grollet fretted.

Tissot smiled, then ordered the engines to throttle back. He wasn't going to waste fuel chasing after a pod of whales.

"Monsieur President, it is not an uncommon occurrence out here. Humpback whales calve in these waters in October, but there are other species here year round. We've even had large pods of orcas come through. It is nothing to be concerned about; in fact, most see the whales as a sign of good luck."

"Ah, well that is indeed reassuring to hear, Capitaine. I bow to your superior knowledge of the sea," Grollet condescended, making Tissot grit his teeth even harder than he normally had to. He couldn't wait for this assignment to be finished.

"Now, if you'll accompany me to the salon, I would appreciate an after dinner drink if it's not too much trouble," Grollet simpered. Tissot was led unwillingly away, after ensuring that the ship was under the control of his second in command.

He didn't notice Tane lingering behind. And when the man started taking pictures of the radar, then of the navigational maps they'd been using to plot the Vaitiare's course, no one from the crew said anything. They all assumed that the man who was a top aide for the President of French Polynesia had carte blanche to do whatever he wanted, as long as it didn't interfere in running the ship.