It may very well have been the first time in his career that Major John Casey had ever questioned an order. He sat, numb on the hard bench in Castle, staring up at the empty screen which the General had spoken from not moments before. Her words rung in his ears:

"...no longer an asset, but a liability... terminating Operation Bartowski..."

Operation Bartowski my ass, thought Casey. Bartowski wasn't an operation, he was a person; he was a nerd with a goofy grin and a way of weaseling his way in to even the most hardened of hearts. Everybody liked Chuck, and he would no doubt be mourned by hundreds after whatever 'tragic accident' Casey was supposed to arrange befell him. Casey had been ordered to kill before - and not just strangers; rogue agents that had once been coworkers, even Agent Walker's old boyfriend Bryce - there was a reason Casey avoided getting close to people, you never knew who could end up your next mark.

But Chuck was different. After months of babysitting Chuck, letting him tag along on missions, Casey had developed well, not quite a respect for Chuck, per se, but he didn't dislike him. And occasionally, when Chuck was out in the field and Casey was alone doing surveillance back at the van, one of Chuck's witty comments over the intercom might cause Casey to allow himself just the teensiest bit of a smile.

In that moment, sitting alone on the cold hard bench under the Orange Orange, Casey knew that he could not do what he had been ordered to do. He did not understand why. He loved his country, he knew that good men, men like him and men like Bartowski died for this country all the time, that it was an honor to die protecting something bigger than yourself, and yet for reasons he could not explain it seemed wrong to let Chuck die by his hand. He told himself that maybe the General was wrong, that Chuck might still have a role to play as an asset, but he knew he was kidding himself. Bartowski and the Intersect had to disappear.

And then suddenly, Casey had an idea. There was a difference between missing and dead, and perhaps Casey could use that to his advantage. But he needed to work quickly. He used all of the resources at his disposal to prepare the necessary documents - a valid passport, drivers license, plane tickets, all in the name of one Michael Carlton - a man who right now existed only in Casey's mind, but who soon Chuck would be forced to become. He was sealing the documents into an envelope with a single typewritten note when the LCD screen featuring the General flickered to life once more.

"Major Casey. We have a situation on our hands. Locate Agents Walker and Bartowski immediately for briefing."

"General, you ordered me to terminate Operation Bartowski."

"As I said, we have a situation. Now go, hurry." The General quietly flickered out of view.

Casey armed himself to the teeth and bounded quickly up the stairs out of the underground fortress, but not before first escorting his packet of carefully prepared documents to the industrial-grade shredder. He couldn't risk having someone discover the papers, and at least for now they weren't necessary. At least for the moment, Operation Bartowski was live again.

And just that quickly, Agent Casey was gone, off into the night to save yet more innocents who didn't have the slightest idea they needed saving. And behind him, in the darkness of Castle in a wastepaper bin shredded into a thousand pieces that would never be reassembled, sat several forged documents and a single one page letter - orders from above the authority of Agents Casey and Walker, instructing Chuck to take this alibi and follow the path set out for him to his next mission, where a new set of agents would make contact with him. It would have been extremely plausible, on official CIA stationary, and it wouldn't be until Bartowski was halfway around the world and nobody else showed up that he would study the letter and realize that there was something funny about the typesetting, that words were broken up at the ends of lines where they didn't be, there were too many hyphens. And then it would hit him, suddenly, as he read the leftmost characters on each line straight down from top to bottom:

"GOODBYE CHUCK. NOW, LIVE."