Chuck vs. His Destiny

Chapter 2: "Destination: Omaha"

CAST (in order of appearance)
Chuck Bartowski: Zachary Levi
Ellie Bartowski: Sarah Lancaster
USAF Staff Sergeant: Romany Malco
Captain John Casey: Adam Baldwin
Dr. Thomas Novak: Jonathan Frakes
USAF Pilot: Harry Connick, Jr.
Arthur Graham: Tony Todd
Sarah Walker: Yvonne Strahovski


June 2003

Two weeks had gone by in a blur – two weeks in Los Angeles. Long enough to briefly reconnect with old friends from Beverly Hills High, to spend time raising hell with Morgan… to listen to his sister gripe about how she "hadn't found the right man yet" and how she could "constantly hear her biological clock ticking."

Chuck didn't see what Ellie's deal was. She was only twenty-five, for God's sake. Chuck figured he'd be lucky to find somebody by the time he was her age, so he wasn't too concerned about his sister.

But now, she was driving him out to Riverside – he had orders to report to March Air Reserve Base, where he would be loaded onto a KC-135 tanker headed to Randolph Air Force Base, outside of San Antonio. Once there, Chuck would spend the next three months training on flight operations, starting with T-1s and moving up to T-38s.

After he had finished initial flight training, Chuck would go to Luke Air Force Base, near Phoenix, to train on flying F-16s. Then, he would either 1) be assigned to an F-16 wing, or 2) be sent to Nellis Air Force Base outside of Las Vegas to train on F-22s.

He was rather hoping for the latter.

When Chuck arrived at March ARB, he said his good-byes to Ellie, and headed into the small passenger terminal. Once inside, he made a beeline for the desk underneath the sign that said, "TRAVEL ORDERS."

"Name?" asked the bored-looking staff sergeant sitting behind the desk.

"2nd Lieutenant Bartowski, Charles I.," Chuck replied.

The staff sergeant looked closely at his monitor and scrolled through a list. He found Chuck's name and double-clicked on it, bringing up his orders. Another click, and Chuck heard a laser printer warming up.

After a moment, the staff sergeant pulled two sheets of paper from under his desk. "The first page is your travel order, sir," he explained. "The second page is acknowledgment that you have received and understood your orders. I need you to look over the first page, then sign the second."

"Not a problem," Chuck replied. He looked to the top of the first page. "Department of the Air Force… yeah, yeah… ordered to report to…"

He froze. There was a three letter code in the "ordered to report" section. As far as Chuck knew, that code should've been RND – the IATA designation for Randolph Air Force Base. But instead, it said OFF –

"Offutt Air Force Base?" Chuck asked in confusion. Offutt was outside of Omaha, Nebraska – nine hundred miles away from where he thought he was going. "I thought I was supposed to be going to Randolph."

The staff sergeant gave Chuck a weird look. It was clear he didn't get questions very often, but nonetheless, he went back into Chuck's orders. "No, sir, according to the computer, you're supposed to be going to Offutt. In fact, the orders state that you are to wait at this desk until a Captain… uh, Captain Casey comes to get you."

Chuck squinted at the staff sergeant. "Alright," he said, even more confused. He placed the second page on the desk, signed it, and handed it to the staff sergeant. Then he sat down in a chair next to the desk.

Chuck sat there for nearly two hours. Finally, he saw a man in Class A's and captain's bars coming his way. Chuck's eyes widened at the array of ribbons on his chest, including –

"Jesus," Chuck whispered. "This guy's got a Purple Heart and a Bronze Star?!" He jumped to his feet and started to salute the superior officer – and then realized that he was indoors, and didn't have a cover on.

"You Bartowski?" the captain asked – Casey, his nametag read, exactly the person Chuck was supposed to be waiting for.

"Yes, sir!" Chuck replied.

"Captain John Casey," he got back. "Intelligence Division, 55th Wing, Air Combat Command."

Intelligence Division?! "2nd Lieutenant Charles Bartowski," Chuck said. "And, if I may ask, sir, I expected to be sent to Randolph for flight training… do you happen to know why I'm being sent to Offutt?"

"You may ask," Captain Casey replied, "and I do know, but I am not at liberty to brief you on your assignment until we're onboard the plane."

Chuck raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? Uh, sir?"

A ghost of a smile appeared on Casey's face. "Seriously, Lieutenant. Come with me."


From: Dr. Thomas Novak, Psychiatric Evaluation Unit

To: Arthur Graham, Director, CIA

Re: Officer Bryce Larkin

Date: 23 June 2003

I have had the chance to thoroughly observe and evaluate Officer Larkin since he reported to Langley two weeks ago. He is at once both a brilliant agent with great potential for undercover operations and a neurotic wreck on the brink of a psychotic breakdown.

According to a report filed by his former handler, Stanford Professor Miles Fleming, Officer Larkin attempted to have a friend of his – one 2nd Lieutenant Charles Bartowski, USAF – removed from Stanford University and consequently from the recruitment process from Project Omaha approximately three and a half months ago. Officer Larkin was apparently concerned for Lieutenant Bartowski's well-being, both physical and mental, and did not believe that he would be able to cope with the demands of Project Omaha.

Professor Fleming refused Officer Larkin's demands. Since that time, Officer Larkin's mental condition has deteriorated. He reportedly slept with Lieutenant Bartowski's girlfriend approximately three weeks after the incident with Professor Fleming, causing Bartowski to break all ties with Larkin. Larkin says that he attempted to apologize to Bartowski at their Stanford's June commencement exercises, and was rebuffed by his former friend.

Bryce Larkin shows a great deal of potential. However, I am highly concerned that he could have a psychotic break during a mission, and as such, I must make the following recommendations:

Officer Larkin should be assigned only to embassy missions until his mental condition improves. As long as he is on such assignments, if he should have a breakdown while on assignment, it can be easily handled.

In spite of your suggestion, I believe that at the present time, Officer Larkin should under no circumstances be partnered with Agent Sarah Walker. It is my professional assessment that her personality type clashing with his on a regular basis will cause more trouble than it is worth and result in a loss of productivity and possible loss of one or more officers.

I will continue to monitor Officer Larkin as he continues his training. I will let you know immediately if I observe improvement or deterioration of his condition.

Respectfully submitted,

Thomas Novak, DO, Ph.D


Chuck Bartowski followed John Casey out of the terminal and onto the tarmac. Once outside, he pulled on the ballcap-shaped cover that went with the USAF battle-dress uniform, and slipped on a pair of aviator sunglasses.

"There's our ride!" Casey called to him over the roar of engines on the flight line, as he pointed to a Lockheed Jetstar painted in –

In the livery of the 89th Airlift Wing? "Isn't that one of the President's planes?" Chuck yelled.

John Casey grinned. "Used to be, but it's been assigned to the 55th Wing's Intelligence Division since 1994! Great tool for 'diplomacy', I'll tell you that!"

Chuck shook his head as he followed Captain Casey up the steps into the old VC-140. "Nice," he cracked, taking in the décor that was contemporary to the Johnson administration.

"Hey, don't knock it," Casey shot back. "How often do you think a 2LT gets his own private jet to pick him up and fly him to his initial assignment?"

"Probably not often," Chuck admitted.

"Try never," Casey replied. "And now that we're onboard, I can brief you on what's going on."

"You can brief him as soon as we take off, Captain," grumbled a rather dour-looking man wearing a flight suit and the insignia of a major. "We need to get going."

"Yes, sir," Casey replied. "Bartowski, take a seat."

The major pulled his head back into the cockpit and closed the door. Chuck stowed his gear in the compartment by the galley, and took a seat on the left-hand side of the plane. Casey sat down facing him, a faux-wood table between them.

"I'm not even gonna try to tell you what's going on until after we take off," Casey explained. "You ever heard a Jetstar take off?"

"Can't say that I have, sir," Chuck replied.

Casey grimaced. "It's an experience."

The aircraft was relatively quiet as it taxied to the runway, but then the four Garrett TFE-731 turbofans spooled up. "JESUS CHRIST!" Chuck shouted, trying to make himself heard over the howl.

Casey smiled. "I TOLD YOU!"

And then the pilot released the brakes. The Jetstar practically leapt down the runway, shooting forward like a bullet from a gun. A moment later, the thirty year-old Lockheed business jet clawed airborne, reaching for altitude.

Almost immediately, the noise of the engines was cut in half. Taking off over Riverside, the pilot had to observe certain noise abatement procedures – something Chuck hated. He felt that it was unnatural for a plane to cut power and pitch upward, just so that people on the ground wouldn't be bothered. In his opinion, if they were stupid enough to buy a house under the flight path of an airport or an air force base, they deserved the noise.

When the plane reached cruising altitude, Captain Casey reached under his seat and pulled out a briefcase. He opened the briefcase and removed a manila file folder. Opening it, he placed a sheet of paper on the table.

Chuck looked at the paper in confusion. "That – that's my transcript from Stanford!" he exclaimed.

"Yes, indeed, it is," Casey replied. "4.0 GPA, graduated summa cum laude, scored what we call a 'possible' in every class taught by Professor Miles Fleming."

"A 'possible'?" Chuck asked.

"Means you got every point possible," Casey said. "It's a sharp-shooting term."

"I see," Chuck replied, though he really didn't.

Casey looked across the table at him. "Here's the thing. Miles Fleming is an agent of the Central Intelligence Agency. Code name Glass Castle."

Chuck's eyes widened. "What?"

"Yep," Casey said. "He is responsible for recruiting exceptional Stanford students to the CIA. He identified you after you aced his class on subliminal perception and retention, and reported you to the CIA. The CIA saw your potential for a Department of Defense project called 'Project Omaha', and since you were already committed to the Air Force, decided that you would be an ideal candidate for it."

"'Project Omaha'?" Chuck asked. "What exactly does this entail?"

"It's a project that uses subliminal image perception and retention in addition to pattern recognition abilities. You, obviously, can do all that with ease. What we're doing is studying human abilities in an attempt to create a computer database that will be able to do the same thing."

Chuck snorted. "No computer will ever be able to match the ability of the human brain."

Casey smiled. "You would be surprised at what the government labs have floating around."


Director Graham looked across his desk at Sarah Walker. "Well, here's the thing," he said, his voice sounding a little strained. "The whole plan of action I had for you – pairing you with this hotshot field agent from Stanford, getting you into a deep-cover partner situation – has been blown off the table by the shrinks. They think he's on the verge of a breakdown, and they're afraid, based on your record, that you might beat the hell out of him or worse if he annoys you too much."

Sarah cocked her head. "My record?"

Graham raised an eyebrow. "Agent Walker, according to your CSIS dossier, you've eliminated half a dozen Iranian nationals who were identified as threats to the west in the last six months. I mean, I'm sure you're a very nice person in real life, but in professional life, it's pretty clear that you're a killer."

Sarah looked at the floor. "Yes, sir, that's true," she replied quietly. "But it's what I'm good at."

"I'm aware," Graham said. "But that's not the only thing you're good at, as far as I can see. From what I've read, you have an extraordinary skill for creating on-the-spot intelligence analyses and utilizing them to improvise missions. In fact, Director Elcock made it quite clear that most of your missions in the last six months were created by you, executed by you."

Sarah shrugged. "It's a useful skill, sir. I like being able to do my job well."

"So I can tell. Here's the thing – if we're not going to put you in a deep cover team, then I've got an assignment waiting for you."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Graham raised a hand. "Before I get into it, I want you to understand that it's gonna be three months until this mission starts, and you're going to be stuck here at HQ doing analysis until then."

Sarah sighed. "Well… tell me about it, and I'll decide."

Graham nodded. "There's a Department of Defense project known as Project Omaha. We are co-developing a computer database with the National Security Agency, mostly in response to President Bush's post-9/11 edict for the intelligence agencies to play nicely together. This database is intended to contain every piece of intelligence that we have, and see if it can identify patterns."

He handed Sarah a manila folder. "We're studying human abilities to perceive, retain, and recognize subliminal imagery and using our findings to create the software to run this database. That folder contains everything you need to know about our most promising subject – an Air Force lieutenant by the name of Charles Bartowski."

Sarah opened the folder, and began to look at the file as Graham continued speaking. "He's going to spend the next three months undergoing a battery of tests with medical and psychiatric personnel at Offutt Air Force Base. In late September, you will report to Offutt and join the team. Your Air Force liaison is Captain John Casey; however, most of the time, you will be working directly with Lieutenant Bartowski."

Sarah looked at the picture of Lieutenant Bartowski. He had short, slightly curly brown hair, brown eyes, and a brilliant smile that set something off inside of Sarah. She had never even met this guy, and she already liked him a little bit just because of his smile.

"Now, we know that realistically, we are still going to be in Iraq this time next year," Graham said. "'Mission Accomplished' or no, we're not done over there. So, ideally, in mid-January, you, Lieutenant Bartowski, and the rest of the Project Omaha team will deploy to Baghdad to assist with operations over there."

Sarah nodded. "Understood."

"Excellent," Graham replied. "Three months, Agent Walker. Learn Lieutenant Bartowski. Know him inside and out. This mission could be a career-maker for you."