AN: Had this one lying around for a bit and decided to post it. Same old disclaimers. I think BDaddyDL and seajay28 helped. Takes place well after season 4.
Deep in the thick grove of Georgia pines a rusted and slightly mangled Ford F-150 extended cab four by four came to a stop. The two people inside the truck exited the truck; glad finally be out of the rat trap as they called it. The pickup was well below the standard ride they were accustomed to driving around in while on missions. On their arrival they attempted to purchase a four wheel drive pickup but the local dealer informed them, "We don't sell many new four wheel drive trucks in these parts because only a damn fool would ruin their truck by going off four wheeling in one. The people here just head up north to Atlanta and by a ragged old truck they can use and abuse during hunting season."
Taking the salesman's sagely advice the two agents scoured the local towns until they found the perfectly imperfect truck. It was an early nineties Ford F-150 extended cab that looked like it should have been in the scrap head versus being on the road or anywhere else for that matter. The right fender had a dent that started just behind the headlight and continued on before stopping just above the wheel well. The driver's door sported its own dent inlayed with bright yellow paint. A sure sign that one of the previous owners ran afoul of a pole painted with safety yellow to prevent it from being hit. The bed was not in much better shape sporting numerous dents and dings on both sides and along the tailgate. The left side wheel well was rusting out in such a way both agents were afraid to load their equipment from that side, I case they should touch it and cause the whole side to fall off.
The interior of the truck was in slightly better shape. The dash board only had one major crack on the passenger side where the hot Georgia sun had apparently taken its toll on the poor unprotected vinyl. The bench seat appeared to be cloth at some point in time; however with the copious amount of duct tape currently in use to hold it together, what was really under it was anybody's guess. Despite the overall decrepit condition of the truck the engine purred like a kitten and the transmission shifted as smoothly as a hockey puck on freshly cleaned ice.
The sun was starting to set in the western sky creating a myriad of colors ranging from a deep orange to a fiery red that just above the tops of the massive Georgia pines and rose upward in a majestic arc trying to touch the now darkening sky. Along with the sunset came the unwanted effect of the humidity that began to thicken as the suns scorching rays no longer heated the air. As the agents made their way deeper into the grove of pines the humidity that once hung unseen in the air began to collect in small pockets between the trees creating a misty, hazy scene right out of a horror movie. As the agents moved deeper into the forest the mist began to form small low level clouds that started several feet off the ground and reached heights of no more than eight feet. If not for the urgency of their mission Chuck would have stopped to watch and observe the wonder of nature as it was unfolding before him.
Two things the agents were thankful for were the setting sun and the thick blanket of pine straw they had to traverse across to get to their final destination, a remote cabin deep in the heart of the pines. Clothed in a version of the old Army BDU's, brown combat boots and armed to the teeth, not having to contend with the blistering sun was a major plus. The thick layer of pine straw that covered the forest ground muffled their footsteps as they continued on their journey deep into the wooded area.
After just several minutes of walking the intense humidity began to take its toll on the two agents. Not in the way of a physical problem but more of a mental one. Their once dry clothes were assaulted by misty clouds that surrounded them like a wet blanket as they trudged deeper and deeper into the woods. The BDU's became wet from the outside in as the fabric absorbed the water that hung in the air. Their faces and hands became sticky to the touch and the agents had to constantly wiped the palms of their hands along the legs of their pants or on opposite sleeves to in an attempt to keep them dry. Their own sweat that had to some degree evaporated off them earlier in the day began to run freely down their back and faces. The sweat stung their eyes as it dripped from their foreheads and clouded their vision. Beads of sweat ran down their noses and fell off the tips like water dripping off a stalactite in a limestone cave. Sweat was now running freely down their backs starting at the base of the neck and ending somewhere near their lower backs.
Almost an hour later the agents found the clearing in the woods they had been searching for. Cut out in the middle of the dense pine forest was a four acre parcel of land that was groomed to perfection. The only problem with the acreage was what was growing on it. Except for the small cabin and a dirt road leading up to it the entire clearing was covered in Marijuana plants in various stages of growth. Some were only several inches tall and some had reached their mature height and had buds that were clearly ready for harvesting. Thus the reason for them being here, Carina Miller, Sarah Bartowski's best friend and Maid of Honor, had gotten in another ticklish situation. This time she could truly say it wasn't her fault. Carina had toned down her antics quite a bit in the last few years and was having some fun with one of her girl friends when she got pulled into the mess she was now currently in. Her friend's boy friend decided to take them on a weekend trip to his remote cabin for a relaxing weekend. As it turned out the cabin was in the middle of a pot farm. As luck would have it the Dudes partners weren't all that thrilled to have two people not in the loop taking up temporary residence in the middle of their business venture. Carina over heard what plans they had in store for her and her friend and called on Sarah for help. With Beckman's approval, which only happened after some major bargaining with the DEA folks, Sarah and Chuck found themselves ass deep in Georgia pines.
Stopping behind the last row of trees Chuck un-slung his M24 sniper rifle and began to set up his firing position should it be needed. One thing the General made perfectly clear, no fatalities unless absolutely necessary. The farm was run by a local group and not a major drug ring. Sarah pulled out her MK4 spotter's scope and began a visual sweep of the area. Noting the lack of guards on the perimeter she worked her way inwards towards the cabin. The cabin was more like an old single wide mobile home. The siding or what was left of it was hanging at all sorts of weird angles, some ends went upwards to the roof which was missing several shingles and some hung bent in the middle and touched the ground. The gutter that was once nestled securely at the roofs edge was twisted and bent. In some places it was just hanging there serving no purpose at all. The down spouts, now useless as breasts on a warthog, swung merrily in the breeze seemingly dancing in time with the loud music that surrounded the decrepit cabin. Sarah saw four men sitting on a couple of old school bus seats just outside the front door to the cabin. They were smoking joints, passing them around like people at a concert and drinking beer without a care in the world. Loud heavy metal music was blaring from the cabins windows which were open and held mammoth speakers.
Chuck turned to Sarah and gave her a small shrug before saying, "Is it just me or is this the easiest rescue mission we have been on so far?" all the while they were making their way towards the cabin from behind. "Did you see any weapons on our motley crew?"
"It's not just you, let's go get Carina so the DEA can come in here and burn this place to the ground. There's not a weapon in sight unless the fat guy has one stuck in a fat roll somewhere."
"Which ones do you want?"
"I'll take the goofy looking skinny guy in the Def Leppard tee shirt and the fat guy wearing the AC DC jacket."
"That leaves me with tall dark and gruesome, referring to the overly tanned fellow with green teeth, and mister I have a keg instead of six pack abs."
"Chuck, that's so cruel calling him gruesome, disgusting maybe but not gruesome."
"He has green teeth and half of the ones in front are missing!"
"I'll give you that one. You have your tranq pistols ready?"
"Yeah I'm good, you?"
"Yep, I'm all set. See you in a bit." They gave each other a peck on the lips and made their way to the front on opposite sides of the cabin. They silently made their way to the front of the trailer and peeked around. The years of working together allowed them to move at the same pace allowing them to arrive at the front at almost the exact same time. A single nod from Chuck started the assault, in a single motion both agents turned and fired their tranq pistols in a movement that would make synchronized swimmers proud. Chuck hit mister green teeth solidly in the neck which resulted in tall dark and gruesome hitting the ground face first. At the same time Sarah fired her tranq gun at Def Leppard hitting him in between the Def and Leppard. His resulting fall landed him on AC DC's lap. Already hindered by by his enormous size he was unable to rise from the school bus seat before Sarah hit him with two darts. Mr. kegger alerted by green teeth's face plant began to rise out of his seat but was quickly dispatched by Chucks second dart.
With the loud music filling the cabin the last remaining Marijuana farmer was blissfully unaware of what had taken place outside. He was sitting at an old lime green card table on a blue folding chair that had seen better days. He had his back to the door so he could keep an eye on Carina and her friend, content in the fact that his buddies had the front of the house. Carina noticed the entrance of her two friends and nudged her girl friend. Carina, not completely cured from her devious ways, smiled sexily at her captor and pointed over his shoulder at the door. The remaining pot farmer turned to face the door and when he did his reward was a double tap of tranq darts. He fell sideways taking the sorry excuse for a table with him.
No sooner had he hit the floor when Carina was out of her chair like a shot and in front of the out of date but powerful Harman Kardon sound system cutting it off.
"Thank God you guys got here" exclaimed Carina as she hugged Sarah first then Chuck, "If I had to listen to one more rendition of Freebird or Sweet Home Alabama I would be bat shit crazy! Call my people and get them here ASAP. If I spend one more hour in this roach motel I'll never get clean!"
"Relax Carina we'll call in a chopper and be out of here in an hour. Help us secure the vermin while we wait" said Sarah as she made her way out the door. Chuck was busy putting the flexi cuffs on the man laying face down on the lime green table.
Within the hour the DEA had arrived and had the area secure and a lone black Bell was landing in the middle of the pot plantation. The two tired, sweaty and smelly agents along with their friend boarded it and took off into the sweltering summer Georgia night.