Author's Note: I used to be a big fan of the WWE, WCW, and ECW back in the day. I'm not a fan of mma and I haven't watched Raw or SmackDown in years, but the idea for this story came out of the fascination I used to have with professional wrestling. I wasn't planning to do anything with this until later, but I've been having some thoughts about Regenesis and while that was happening, I just went ahead with this. Hope you like it:

Here's this: I don't own Chuck, otherwise, I would have smacked upside the head the moron who came up with this one really stupid idea for season 5 I read about a couple of days ago.


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Release

December 20, 2011

7:00 pm

"Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome to Intersect Wars XXXI!" The resounding voice of the commentator continued, "We have got a great card planned for tonight!" The cheers and applause worthy of an arena could be heard loud and clear.

"Yes, we do," said the voice of his co-commentator. "We have for you tonight: A Team Battle undercard, which should be pretty interesting. Then, for the main event, we are proud to present our reigning champion Carmichael!" He paused as the cheering intensified at the mention of the name, "In a one-on-one match, against our newest challenger Stryker!" Again he paused, this time for the cacophony of booing that rang out. "Two men enter! One walks out!"

"Right, you are Stan. Well, he may not walk out but we will have a winner," said the voice of the first commentator. "Carmichael has won the last thirty consecutive matches, has been champion since Intersect Wars began... could tonight be the night the streak finally comes to an end?"

"I don't know Mike; he does have a way of surprising us. I mean did you ever in your life think that a guy that looked like him would win his first match, let alone twenty-nine others?" The excitement typical of color commentary was in full swing.

"Yeah, that was certainly a surprise. I thought he was going to get ripped apart. But, as we now know: with the Intersect in play, anything can happen!"

"For those of you with us for the first time, let's take a look back at that match. Roll the tape..."

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As the footage was streamed to the millions watching at home, the two commentators had a conversation between themselves.

"Hey, Mike?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you ever wish we actually had a live audience to play off of here? I mean this thing is a monster... as popular as it is, don't you think he'd jump at the chance to rake it in even more?"

"Seriously? Look at this set up, man," Mike said pointing to their surroundings. "We are in a re-enforced booth, far above a steel cage surrounded by green-screens. Do you honestly think he'd let anyone else near this place?"

"No, but I mean, why not take it out on the road? I don't know about you, but I'm tired of pushing these damned buttons and listening to canned cheering."

Mike let out a sigh. "Stan... listen to yourself," he offered.

"What?"

"Did you forget that they modulate our voices? That the audience only knows us through our avatars? C'mon man, don't be stupid. We are in a secluded bunker in the middle of nowhere. Do you think any of this is legal? I mean Carmichael alone has killed five guys!"

"I know that!" Stan retorted, feeling less than pleased at the dig at his intelligence. "I wasn't talking about America or any of those places. Maybe Cuba, though."

"Just let it go and be happy we get paid as well as we do for doing this job. Do you know how many people would love to get their hands on the Intersect technology? The boss would never risk that."

"I'm just sayin'..."

"Well, don't. We're back in five, get ready."

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"Well, there you have it folks. Was that something or what?" Mike was back to his on-air persona.

"I still can't believe it; and I was there!"

"Okay. It's time to get this show under way; coming up: the Team Match. Who do we have tonight, Stan?"

"Well, Mike, tonight we have Blue vs. White. The last time these two teams met, White lost a team member, so tonight will certainly be an interesting match up."

"There is definitely bad blood there. I can't wait," Mike said, full of anticipation.

"Let's take a look at the screen," Stan directed as different images began flashing on the monitors. Finally, they slowed down, until only one remained, "Our course tonight: The Arboreal!"

"There's a lot of hiding places among those trees, strategy will be key. This is bound to be a good one."

"The teams are taking their places. Here we go."

On the course, Mike's voice came over the loudspeaker, "White, ready! Blue, ready! In five! four! three! two! one! Go!"

"And, we're off folks. This match has officially begun. Mike, who's your money on?"

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December 20, 2011

7:30 pm

On the other side of the compound, a man approached a holding cell. "Okay, Chuck. It's about that time again. You ready?"

Chuck Bartowski sat on his cot with his head hanging low, ankles and wrists chained together. "Please, Smith. Don't make me do this. Just let me go... I don't even know where we are, you can disappear."

"Must we go through this every time, Chuck? I've already told you I'm not going to kill you. What more do you want? You know the deal: I will let you go when I get what I want." Sparing an appraising glance at Chuck, he continued, "Cheer up, Chuck! Because, guess what? Tonight is the night. I don't need you anymore. You win this match and you're free to go, how's that?"

"You already have me where you want me, no need to play games," growled out Chuck.

Smith reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of sunglasses. "Who's playing games? I'm a man of my word."

As Smith opened the cell door and approached, Chuck asked, "What are you doing?"

"Why removing that pesky little extra bit of programming of course, unless... you want me to leave it?" He held back the glasses as he waited for Chuck to answer.

Chuck thought about the question for a moment. He knew he would be at a disadvantage if he put on the glasses, but if he was ever to get out of here, he couldn't risk the safety of those near him. Reluctantly, he looked up and leaned his head forward. Smith smiled and put the glasses on him. The images engaged in the lenses and thirty seconds later Chuck was free. He no longer had Smith's sick programming in him, but he still had the 2.0. He would make it.

"There, all better. Now all you have to do is make it through this match and you'll never see me again. Your fate is entirely in your hands, Chuck. I wish you luck, but I won't be holding my breath." He laughed mockingly at Chuck and started making his way out of the cell and down the hallway.

The anger rose in Chuck. Anger at being imprisoned, anger at what he had been forced to do, and anger at one Edward Smith. He screamed out, "Smith! I am going to get out of here!" In a low voice he added, "And when I do, I will find you and I will make you pay."

Chuck decided to focus on his immediate problem. If his opponent was anything like the others, and he was sure he was, he would have to defend himself. Even after everything he'd been through, he was still Chuck Bartowski and it wasn't in his nature to hurt people but it seemed he wouldn't have a choice. He would try to end the match as quickly as he could. Knock his opponent out before things got out of control. If he couldn't, well, he would do what he had to do...

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December 20, 2011

7:50 pm

"Oh! And there goes Johnson! Blue is down to one active fighter! It comes down to this folks: a one-on-one battle to decide the winner."

"I can only imagine how tired these two must be, Mike. They have been exerting a lot of energy over the past half-hour; they can't have much left in the tank." Stan was subdued at this point, expecting the match to fizzle to conclusion.

"I agree, I don't think they're going to last much longer. I know some of you are going to be disappointed but, at this point, it looks like White won't be able to even the score this time around."

At that moment the last remaining member of Blue leapt out of a tree branch down onto the remaining member of White, driving them both down to the ground hard. White just managed to push Blue off before he could lock his choke hold and end the match. They both rolled and stood, staring each other down. Blue went on the offensive, intending to tackle White down. White sidestepped him and pushed Blue forward trying to ram him into the tree. Blue recovered and used his momentum to run a couple of steps up the tree, intending to back-flip off. White capitalized on the time it took to complete the flip. He raced to Blue, locked his arms around Blue's waist in mid-flip and suplexed him into the ground with all the force he could muster, breaking Blue's neck and ending the match.

White remained on the ground, breathing heavily, arms splayed, one leg stretched out, the other pulled in perpendicular to the ground.

"I spoke too soon!" Mike cried. "Holy crap! Did you just see that! Stan, did you imagine anything like this happening?"

"Hell no, Mike! I thought these two were done! I thought choke-out for sure, this is definitely better!" Stan said, matching Mike's enthusiasm.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, there you have it! That last-second move by Tremaine has ended the match. Blue will now have to get a replacement for Wells. Looks like White got even after all."

"That's why I love this sport, Mike: you can never be too sure what's going to happen," Stan added. "I think this is the perfect lead-in to our main event."

"Speaking of which, it is now time for our main event folks! I hope you're ready for a hell of a show."

"Let's go to our main arena, it's time to introduce our fighters."

"First up, standing at 6 foot 6, and weighing in at 220 pounds: Stryker!"

The camera switched to the arena entrance as the scowling, bald-headed mountain of muscle walked in and made his way to the cage. The referee, who was really more of a doorman, opened the cage door for Stryker.

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Backstage, Chuck had been escorted to the entrance of the arena, where Dr. Smith was waiting for him.

He began to unlock Chuck's restraints. "Well, this is it, Chuck. Thanks for such a fruitful partnership," Smith said as he attached the electronic gauntlet-like device Chuck had become used to wearing on his forearm. "I suppose it would make me a bad sport to send you out there without this; ah well, gotta keep up appearances anyway. It's not like it'll help you much," he said as he finished the last latch. "Good luck, Bartowski, really. I think I may even shed a tear if you don't make it out, but then, I always was too sentimental."

Chuck said nothing but had a disgusted look on his face. He heard his name being called out over the arena speakers and was shoved through the entrance. "Bye Chuck!"

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December 20, 2011

8:00 pm

"And now," Stan started, "Our reigning champion, standing at 6 foot 4, and weighing in at 190 pounds: Carmichael!"

Chuck stumbled slightly after being shoved and made his way to the cage. He looked around at all the green surrounding him, hopefully this would be last time he saw this place and not because he had been killed during the match. He tried to focus his mind; he needed to be prepared to do whatever it took to make it through. He couldn't let Smith get away with what he'd made him do.

The referee opened the cage door for him, and as he stepped in, he took a look at his opponent for the first time.

Chuck's eyes bugged out. "Aw... fuck." I'm fighting Bane! "Smith! I'll pay you back for this! I swear!"

Stryker grinned evilly at Chuck.

Mike interrupted the stare-down. "Now, let's see what today's style is," a double-sided screen set-up was lowered into the cage, images of different fighting styles began to cycle through, and then stopped abruptly.

Stan jumped in," Oh! And we have Muay Thai!"

Chuck and Stryker both looked at the illustration of a man elbowing his opponent across the face and flashed.

They both assumed fighting stances at the same time.

"Here we go folks, what you've all been waiting for; the main event is about to heat up," Mike commented.

Chuck knew he was at a disadvantage, he needed to end the fight as soon as possible or he would lose.

Stryker went on the attack sending a kick flying towards Chuck, he joined his knee and elbow to block. The impact sent him stumbling backward. Damn, he almost broke my arm, Chuck thought as he tried to rub the hurt away. He definitely needed to end this fast.

Stryker came at him with a punch, Chuck grabbed his wrist to deflect it and moved his head when Stryker's other fist shot out.

Chuck kicked Stryker in the gut and pushed him back, putting some distance between them.

"Stryker has wasted no time at all in this fight, he really wants to take Carmichael out," Stan spoke.

"Carmichael on the other hand seems to be struggling, not the fighter we're used to seeing out here," Mike added.

"Not at all Mike. Carmichael seems like an amateur more than a champion right now. What is going on?"

"I don't know Stan, but if he doesn't get back on his game fast, he's going to be in some serious trouble."

Chuck felt himself getting tired and knew he wouldn't last much longer against his more powerful opponent; if he was going to try something, he'd have to do it soon.

Just then, Stryker launched another vicious kick aimed at Chuck's left leg. Chuck raised his knee and blocked, at the same time, using his longer limbs, he sent an outstretched hand straight at Stryker's throat. His blow connected and left Stryker unable to breathe.

Stryker reigned in his hands in an effort to soothe his injured trachea. Chuck took advantage and quickly followed by sending a kick straight to Stryker's left side, knocking what little oxygen he had left out of his lungs.

Stryker clutched at his side and hunched over. Chuck went around him and immediately put him in choke hold; he wrapped his legs around Stryker's torso and held on as tightly as he could. This was it. This was the only chance he was sure to get. He had to end it now. If he couldn't, it would turn into a kill or be killed situation and that's something Chuck did not want.

"Holy crap! This one looks to be just about over!"

"Carmichael has surprised me again, Stan. I'll admit I was a little worried there that this would be the end of his incredible championship reign."

Stryker fell to the ground and Chuck could feel the fight leave him. After a few more seconds, he was out completely. Chuck kicked him on the side but got no reaction. He got out from underneath Stryker and saw his body lying motionless on the mat. Chuck looked for the referee to open the cage door for him but he had disappeared.

"Hey! I won, Smith!" Chuck yelled. "Let me out!"

The video stream had been severed. Stan and Mike were gone. The lights went out in the arena.

"What happened to the deal you bastard!" Chuck shouted as darkness replaced light.

Chuck looked around him when he heard gas being released from all sides of the cage. He quickly started to feel the effects.

He tried to hold on to consciousness as long as he could but it was a losing battle. He fell to his knees and started to wobble.

I'll get you Smith, was his last thought before he fell face first onto the mat.


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Author's Note: I've now added dates to the first four chapters and will continure to do so from here on in. It should make events easier to place.

On another note: if you've read any of my other stories, you know I don't really do action. So, for reference for Chuck's fight, I watched a video titled: Muay Thai Kick Boxing instruction with Bear Essential Combat from Daily Motion.