The Bodyguard (is the Omega)

29.

Castiel had been looking forward to this all day. He saw the payphone earlier when he was tailing the organised crime syndicate, paying a visit to an old associate he had sent to prison years ago. Now a few hours later, he had established Abbadon had nothing to do with what was happening to Dean. Castiel had a slight twinge in his shoulder blade but she had a dozen bruised foot soldiers and a hole in her Cadillac to remember him by. Abby had been so impressed by the way he penetrated her defences, she offered him second in charge of the family business. He was lucky to getaway with an open invite to walk in her city, safety guaranteed, and not end up on the other end of another marriage proposal. That was one more name off the list Charlie had made for him. So long as the list existed he couldn't go home and home was Dean.

Weary and a little bedraggled by the heat of the day, Castiel walked along the deserted highway in middle of nowhere Nevada where the barren sunset was rich blood and pallid gold, mixed up in a high too wide sky. A little sliver of a pale new moon hung low on the horizon. Outlining the lonely parked trucks in the rest stop. The payphone sign glowing blue in the gloom of the evening. Castiel touched his finger to the quarter in his pocket. The handful of loose change a comforting weight in his palm as he picked up the receiver and dialled the cell phone number he had committed to memory.

"Heard a lot of chatter about you and the Queen of the Djinns," Naomi said by way of greeting when she picked up. "Didn't realise you were going international with your scavenger hunt."

Of course she had expected him to make contact. He had done so religiously for weeks. He missed a call once when he had been knocked out in the bottom of a submarine in Detroit, boy did he pay for it the next night.

"Mexico's not that far," Castiel said. "I needed to take him off the list."

"I take it the cartel wasn't pulling Michael's strings?"

"No."

"I have to say I respect the determination and loyalty."

"I'm just following a list."

"I wasn't referring to your save Dean Winchester crusade," Naomi said. "I meant Michael, the prison psychiatrist is getting nowhere with finding out who his partner was. Though the guy's building a pretty solid case for unfit to prosecute."

"I could work on some secondary charges if you guys need more evidence?" Castiel offered. "I suspect Gadreel's motorcycle accident was staged to insert Michael into the music video production. I don't want to be sidetracked from my investigations here. The Oscars is in a week. So maybe after that. Have you been able to talk him out of it?"

Naomi sighed, it was unexpected since Castiel had always known her to be a cool headed operations director.

"Now I know why the pay is so good," she lamented. "He's impossible to control. Hang on he really wants to talk. You be careful out there."

"When he's out of bed, yes," Castiel said breezily. Naomi reacted with a shocked laugh and passed the cellphone on.

"Hiya Cas," Dean sounded like he had been waiting impatiently the whole time.

"Hello Dean, it's so good to hear your voice," Castiel couldn't stop the ridiculous smile stretching out his mouth. His jaw ached from the labour of it. Executing a grudge hit list didn't exactly require him to exercise his facial muscles, but every time he talked to Dean, as much as it hurt it was also exhilarating.