While Castle and the kid, whose mental age was also around ten, played childishly on the lawn, Big Ivan had already left to contact an architect. With the future site for the simulator facility now selected, he followed his employer's orders to arrange an on-site inspection.
Big Ivan knew his boss well—Castle was a man driven by the motto: "The world remembers only the foolish who die gloriously." Once Castle decided on a new "toy," he moved with alarming efficiency, fueled by an almost fanatical determination to bring his reckless ideas to life.
Meanwhile, John, ever the image-conscious man even when babysitting, stood on the sidelines in exasperation. He watched as Castle and the kid performed somersaults on the grass, playing games fit for toddlers with his one-year-old daughter. The little girl's bell-like laughter filled the air. Having inherited both her parents' best features, Onora adored her godfather. Castle's goofy antics on the grass sent her into fits of joyous giggles. With the kid now joining in, the child quickly forgot all about her beloved dogs.
John sighed. This ability to regress to a mental age of ten whenever necessary was beyond him. Sure, back in his assassin days, he could shoot holes through the world. But when it came to his daughter? He was utterly useless. Unable to drop his "serious adult" persona, John could only stand there like a useless bystander, cheering Castle's clownish behavior with silent 666s of approval.
By the time Gianna finally wrapped up her grueling negotiations with Lockheed Martin, she returned to find Castle had prepared a feast. The table was set with dishes from their resident chef, ready for everyone to enjoy once Beckett got home.
However, Gianna's good mood didn't last long. John, oblivious to the implications, casually mentioned overhearing Castle's plans to request a flight simulator from Lockheed Martin. The words barely left his mouth before Gianna's expression darkened. Having recently crammed her head with aviation knowledge, she instantly realized the gravity of the situation.
Storming into the room, she confronted Castle, who was playing with the kid and Ramsey on the floor. "Rick, are you out of your mind? A flight simulator?! Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? You're putting a giant target on your back for every spy and agent in the world!"
Castle had expected this confrontation. With Beckett due home soon, he knew this was his chance to win Gianna over and hopefully recruit her as an ally before Beckett learned about the scheme and exploded.
He signaled for the kid and Ramsey to keep playing with Onora, then walked over to a thoroughly confused John. Facing the fuming Gianna, Castle began his defense.
"Okay, yes," Castle admitted sheepishly, "I was planning to get a fully functional flight simulator from Lockheed Martin. But Big Ivan and Harry made me realize how dangerous that would be. So, I've revised the plan. Now, I'll build the hardware myself in secret. All I need from Lockheed is the software and flight data. This way, no one will know I have a simulator, and I can still live my dream of flying every fighter jet in the world… without leaving home."
Castle elaborated on the practical challenges:
"Look, Gianna, you know I'm not interested in those slow, clunky Cessna prop planes. But military cockpits aren't exactly designed for someone my size—six feet tall and nearly a hundred kilos. I can't even fit into most jets unless it's something like the F-35, which uses side-stick controls instead of a central joystick."
Driven by his dream of piloting a fighter jet, Castle was unwilling to let go of the plan. However, his revised approach minimized the risk of exposure and dependence on Lockheed Martin. He also pointed out another strategic advantage: by producing the simulator himself, he could obtain more detailed flight data from Boeing and Northrop Grumman—companies where he was a shareholder—rather than relying solely on Lockheed.
As Castle spoke, Gianna's expression shifted from anger to shock, then disbelief, and finally to a mixture of bemusement and exasperation.
How did this idiot manage to get himself into yet another mess? she thought.
The kid's reckless influence had clearly rubbed off on Castle. While they only saw the simulator as a fun toy, Gianna's recent research and life experience told her otherwise. This wasn't just a case of corporate politics; Castle's plan, if discovered, could spark serious international interest.
"Rick, do you even realize what kind of attention this could bring? The F-35 isn't expected to enter active service for another three or four years, and it's already the most coveted fifth-generation fighter in the world. Every intelligence agency on the planet wants a piece of it.
The Europeans and the Japanese—who have invested heavily in the project—haven't even received a simulator like the one you're asking for. Do you really think they'd just sit back and watch if you brought one home? They might hesitate to challenge Lockheed, but you? You'd be an easy target!"
Castle grinned sheepishly, trying to downplay her concerns. "But that's why I'm building it myself! If Lockheed only supplies the software, there's no way anyone will know I have a simulator."
Gianna was astonished by Castle's technical confidence. He spoke of manufacturing a high-tech device as if it were no more complicated than assembling a bookshelf.
But she refused to be distracted by his spiel.
"Rick," she snapped, "this isn't about whether Lockheed gives you the simulator or not. The real issue is that none of this should be happening in the first place. You're just asking for trouble! Do you ever go a week without stirring up some kind of disaster?"
Castle opened his mouth to argue but froze when he caught sight of Beckett pulling into the driveway. Oh, no. She's home early. His mind raced. If Gianna sides with her, this whole plan is doomed!
Gianna noticed the shift in Castle's focus and immediately understood. Beckett—the one person who could truly keep Castle in check—had arrived. And she would undoubtedly be just as furious about this scheme as Gianna was.
With a smug grin, Gianna crossed her arms. "Oh, this is going to be good," she thought. No need for me to waste my breath now. Let's see if you can sweet-talk your way out of this one when Beckett hears about it.
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