Posted 09 Aug 2012


Who knew one, ahem, kiss, would cause so many problems?

One hour later


"Patrolman Watson, what's the situation?" Captain Jacobs looked at the young beach patrol officer who was sitting on the ground wearing only one shoe. He sat on a parking wheel stop, head down almost between his knees. His left sneaker and sock had been removed, but there was no sign of blood or trauma. The senior officer sighed when he realized he wasn't getting an immediate answer. The patrolman looked up, wide-eyed and in shock. Jacobs might have felt sorry for him, if it weren't such a pathetic scene. Watson jerked his head suddenly and looked across the parking lot where several large vehicles were pulling in.

Jacobs was pleased with his team. The bomb squad bus had arrived, along with an ARV, a couple SUVs, and three more cruisers. A couple officers were setting up a command and control canopy. Another was setting up high flood lights because it would be getting dark soon. Others were securing the scene. Everyone seemed to be doing exactly what they should be doing. Whatever the threat, the presence of SWAT would make them think twice.

Sergeant Kingston, who had arrived at the scene with Jacobs in his police cruiser, finished his call to dispatch. He got out of the car and climbed up on the hood where he could get a better view down the shoreline, leaving his boss to question the tentative junior officer. Considering Kingston's smaller stature, he needed the extra height the car provided as a vantage point.

Something caught Watson's attention causing him to finally speak. "What's that guy wearing?" He was pointing to Officer Beane, dressed like a green Stay Puft Marshmallow man in full bomb disposal padding. Another officer was helping attach his helmet and blast shield.

"When you called for back-up, it sounded like there's a serious threat. That's why SWAT is here."

"Th-that explains the A-ARVs," Watson stuttered. Jacobs looked back at the vehicles. Watson was right. The other ARV had just arrived.

"So there's no bomb?" Jacobs asked, trying to remain calm.

Watson shook his head.

"What happened?"

Watson took another few seconds to collect himself. Meanwhile, the captain radioed the bomb squad to stand down. The rest of his team continued their work, though. The mobile communications center should be up soon. Two officers were firing up the portable generator.

Fed up with the delay, Jacobs pressed, "Watson, I need to know what happened."

"I got a complaint from a mother with two small kids about a couple down there." He pointed past some tall palm trees towards the ocean. "Actually, the kids weren't that small and probably had seen it all on cable. I doubt the mother uses that code to block channels. Too many parents don't monitor their kids like they should. Rating systems exist for a reason." He was losing focus, straying off topic, and rationalizing unimportant details.

"Watson!"

"Right. Sorry, sir. I went to check it out, and they were rather 'aggressive.'"

"He was assaulting her?"

Watson released an abrupt laugh. "I thought so, but when I got closer I could see the woman was on top. She might have been assaulting him, but he wasn't complaining."

"So all of this is just about two people having sex on a beach?" Jacob asked incredulously.

Watson paused a few more seconds. "They appeared to still be clothed, but their behavior was still pushing the bounds of what's acceptable in public. I tried to interrupt, but that's when she pulled a knife." He pointed to the knife on the ground a few yards away. It looked like an expensive throwing knife—something exotic with a switchblade trigger. She threw it at my foot." He pointed at his left black sneaker, which upon closer inspection had a slice near the toecap. The throw must have been between Watson's toes. Jacobs couldn't help but be impressed at the precision of the throw while resting on a man's chest.

The officer continued, "I went to pull my Taser, but she already had another knife ready. The guy tried to stop her and told me to run away. I looked over my shoulder when I was a safe distance away to see if she was following me. They were going at it again."

Jacobs was trying his best not to judge. That would be for the post-incident report. For now he just needed more information. "Ok, I see you needed back-up, but why did you call for SWAT?"

"I just asked for backup. I wasn't expecting so many."

Jacobs tilted his head in sympathy, trying not to laugh. "Dispatch must have over-estimated your need based on your level of panic. We'll deal with that later, but don't be surprised if you're assigned some additional mandatory training." He knew dispatch really screwed up this one, too. They might also need some training.

From the hood of a police cruiser next to them, Sergeant Kingston called down, "Sir, you should see this." The short man with a nasal voice was looking through binoculars down the beach in the direction Watson had pointed.

Jacobs turned from the inexperienced officer to his sergeant. "I don't need to see a peep show, Kingston."

Kingston continued looking through his binoculars, unfazed. Apparently, he was interested in the peep show. "I ran a check on the vehicles in this lot, and that Lotus is registered to Sarah Walker. And that," he paused to point where he was looking, "is Agent Walker. Officer Watson is lucky he got away."

"Who?" Jacobs climbed up on the hood, pulling out his own field glasses. Kingston was so focused on the scene, maybe the show was worth seeing.

"I heard she got married last year to an Agent Carmichael. Lucky guy."

The name Carmichael sounded familiar to Captain Jacobs. He spotted the couple going at it on the beach. They were still clothed from what he could tell, but otherwise weren't exactly decent. The guy looked like he was about to get lucky. Based on the timeline of when Watson called for back-up, though, they had to have been going at it for well over an hour. That's some kind of restraint. "Who are you talking about?" he asked.

"Remember a few years back, we captured that mercenary group on a rooftop downtown, led by that big guy? I think his name was Colt. It took us four guys to subdue him in lock-up."

Jacobs thought for a second and looked over at Kingston. "I think so. Didn't DHS take that group off our hands?"

"Yep. A few weeks later, there was that terrorist hit at the KFPW TV station." Kingston continued staring through his binoculars.

"I heard a black ops team stopped them." Jacobs found himself wishing his binoculars had more magnification, even though that felt wrong at some level.

"More like a one woman team named Agent Walker. Then there was the bio-conference incidence."

"Right. I remember. I was called in for that one. That was Agent Carmichael," Jacobs said with recognition in his voice. That's where he had heard the name.

"While he was creating the antidote, Agent Walker was capturing the terrorist who released the virus," the sergeant added. "Then there was the car that crashed into the Buy More at Christmas a few years back. Oh, and that toxic gas released at the museum."

"The two of them stopped all of that?" Jacobs looked back at the couple on the shoreline.

"I think a retired Marine Colonel rounded out their team. There's a rumor they broke him out of a maximum security stockade, but that sounded too 'A-Team' to me. Anyway, they're all retired from government work now. I heard that they quit after the Carmichaels married and started a private sector security company."

Something clicked. "Wait a second. Didn't some private security company stop that bomb threat at Pacific Concert Hall last night? Martinez's team took care of disposal. He said he has no idea how they disabled it. It was some sophisticated trigger system unlike anything he had ever seen, and the bomb had enough C-4 to blow the place sky high."

"Sounds like the type of miracle they routinely pulled off." Kingston was obviously a fan.

Jacobs made a decision. "Ok. Last night they saved hundreds of lives. I think they are entitled to a little privacy to celebrate." He reached out and touched Kingston's field glasses to get him to stop watching the intense 'activity' on the beach. "It's almost sunset. We're closing down the beach a few minutes early. Watson, head back to your precinct, write up your incident report, and head home. Be honest. I'll talk to your captain about getting you a partner until you're ready to go solo again."

Watson nodded, put his open-toed shoe back on, and headed to help shutting down the beach. At least he had some self-respect and wasn't going to abandon his post. Jacobs could admire that.

One thing was certain. There was no way Jacobs could look the former CIA agents in the eye after seeing their show, even from a distance. Fortunately, as leader, he could delegate. "Kingston," he said.

"Yes sir?"

"Since you are such a fanboy, you can guard Agent Walker's car and make sure she gets her expensive looking knife back. I'll ride back on the bus." He leveled the most serious look he could at his sergeant, considering the absurdity of the situation. When he was certain he had Kingston's attention, he continued, "Please don't make a fool of yourself. LAPD hit its fool quota for the day."

"Sure thing, Captain. I'll try to keep from getting a knife in the shoe as well.


Song: "Theme from S.W.A.T." by Rhythm Heritage – even though that show was on ABC

A/N: Where were Chuck and Sarah in this chapter, you ask? Maybe you need higher powered binoculars. Don't worry. The next several chapters are all about them. Blame this one on a conversation with Ernie from the ChuckThis blog. This idea's been around since the day after the finale aired.