GreenEyedGirl2
A/N: Greetings from Horseshoe Beach, FL. A little behind schedule but within acceptable parameters. There are less than 300 people here and probably not many more teeth excluding the rich capitalist condo owners out on the Cay. Raisins, wrinklies and near-deads abound.
OK. For all you angst lovers, a feast awaits. If you like Casey, don't read. I make no apologies for his treatment. I always thought he was a gloating prick anyway. He hasn't stepped too far away from his Independence Day Wooden Man imitation.
Pay attention to the punctuation here people. I haven't figured out the volume control on my fonts yet and some of these scribblings are loud.
Jasmine and Vanilla. My two favorite scents. Bye Li.
Armor-Plated-Rat
16 June 2009
Horseshoe Beach, FL
Casa Bartowski
6:45am
"Chuck! Chuck! Chuck? Hey, honey, wake up, time for work. And why are you lying on the floor naked? Chuck!! Damn it, Chuck, this isn't funny. Wake up!"
"Quit yelling, Lynn. I'm awake and I have a colossal headache. Why the hell am I lying on the floor?"
"Look, I woke up and there you were. Don't you remember last night at all? Did you bump your head? Get some shorts on, honey, I'm getting Ellie right now."
Ellie did the usual 'follow my finger' exam then flicked the search light into his eyes nearly blinding him, or so it seemed. "Jesus, Ellie, just stop. I'm fine. I guess I just fell out of bed or something. I'm fine and I have to get ready for work."
"Why don't you call in sick, babe, there's nothing on the agenda that the Herd can't handle. You have plenty of sick time accrued. I'd feel better if you just went back to bed for a while. Maybe come in to work after noon if you feel that responsible." Lynn was trying to convince him to stay home so Ellie could check on him from time to time. Nothing like this had ever happened before and she was scared to death.
"I'm fine, Lynn, really. You can drive me into work and I'll just work in the cage. If I start feeling dizzy or anything I'll come get you and you can drive me home. OK? No big deal."
After a quick breakfast, they drove into the BuyMore and he spent the day in the cage and by shift end had no adverse symptoms and they headed home.
"Chuck, you scared the crap out of me. If that was a joke, please never do anything like that again. I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to my round eye. I was so scared, Chuck."
"Hey, I'm fine. No big deal. Probably won't happen again until I'm 85 so quit worrying. I'm not going anywhere. I made a promise, remember? And dying would be the ultimate cop out and I have no intentions of doing that for 60 or 70 years. Now, no tears, we're fine."
NSA Headquarters
FT Meade, MD
Monday 2pm
"We traced the email with the intersect attachment to a location in Burbank outside Los Angeles. It went to a Charles Bartowski who was Larkin's college room mate and 'best friend' until he accused Bartowski of unethical activities and he was expelled from Stanford. He's had minimal contact with Larkin, no phone contacts, no letters, nothing to indicate a prearranged meeting. Several months ago he and his current girlfriend, a Jill Roberts, visited Bartowski at his place of employment and stayed less than 15 minutes. The girlfriend is Bartowski's ex-fiancé and there's no love lost between them."
"What do we know about this Bartowski?"
"Married, no known political affiliations, works in Burbank as a technical support supervisor at a BuyMore Electronics store. Good credit, no police record, corporate records show he's an excellent employee earmarked for management training and reassignment. He and his wife, Lynn Kimble Bartowski, live with his sister in an apartment in Burbank. The wife works at the BuyMore also; it appears that's where they met. The sister is an MD completing her residency in general medicine at the local hospital. She's a 'model citizen' also."
"Director, I think we need to send a team out to interview this Bartowski and determine if the email and related data is in his possession. I recommend we take possession of the computer and do our own investigation as well as set up some sort of permanent surveillance on the subject until we can determine the location of the intersect data. The fact that he's still alive would indicate that he did not absorb the attachment in download form but we need to be certain. The last 6 candidates all died of brain trauma or stroke after receiving the download. Bartowski should be no different."
"I agree, General Beckman. CIA will send Agent Walker. She can team up with your agent and conduct contact and surveillance as you suggested. We'll share data and reports daily until we know more. If the intersect has been compromised, I recommend sanctions on all involved parties."
"Agreed. I'll cut orders for Major Casey to meet with your agent and plan contact and surveillance."
Casa Bartowski
Tuesday 6:45am
"Chuck, Chuck, wake up baby. I'm hitting the beach and I just wanted you to know I love you and I'll be thinking about you when I hit the BIG WAVE… hahaha"
"Lynn, I still have 15 minutes. So go do the California Surfer Girl thing and I'll see you at work. Don't forget to check and see if we got those spots in the windsurfing class. Love you. Go aw…"
What ever rejoinder he was going to make was stifled by warm lips nibbling on his and the smell of jasmine and vanilla.
"I'm gone, Chuck. See ya at work. Surf's up!"
BuyMore
Burbank, CA
Tuesday, 2pm
CIA agent Sarah Walker entered the BuyMore, cell phone in hand. It had only taken a few seconds to 'adjust' it so that it was non-functional providing a reason to approach the mark.
She did a quick appraisal of Bartowski. Typical computer geek complete with pocket protector, tall, not unattractive but definitely not her type, and alone at the help desk.
"Excuse me, can I get someone to check my phone, please? It died on me in the car and I'm lost without my cell."
"Sure, did you want to leave it or can you wait around a bit, maybe grab some lunch while it's being repaired?" he said after looking at the cell phone make and model. This phone had an annoying fault that was easily repaired. It was so common that the manufacturer just reimbursed the tech center regardless of the cost.
Chuck looked at her, really looked at her for the first time. He suddenly got a little dizzy and when he closed his eyes for a few seconds he saw images of files, photographs, everything about the blonde woman standing in front of him.
This gorgeous blonde was an agent of the Central Intelligence Agency using the assumed name of Sarah Walker with primary duties of infiltration, seduction, extortion, information retrieval and assassination. She had an unbroken string of successful missions. She was a spy!
According to the images in his head she was partnered with Bryce Larkin. Well, ain't that a hoot. Blondie's banging Bryce Larkin and Bryce is a spy. Wonder if she knows about Jill?
'How the hell do I know that?' he thought. 'Maybe I'm just imagining things. Maybe I fell and hit my head last night. I'll call Ellie as soon this woman leaves.'
"Why Charles, are you asking me to lunch?" She looked him straight in the eye, solid eye contact, evaluating his responses while she turned on the flirt machine. This might be easier than she thought. She's worn a top that easily displayed her 'wares' but he never seemed to get past her eyes. Gay? Nothing in the file about any sexual deviations or preferences.
Chuck laughed. "No, ma'am, I'm just saying that you can leave it and pick it up tomorrow morning or, if I'm right about what's wrong, you can come back and pick it up in no more than 45 minutes. I was just suggesting you might want to grab a late lunch while I take a look at it. And it's 'Chuck' not Charles, Agent Walker, just Chuck."
She almost didn't catch the reference 'Agent Walker' so lost had she become in those brown eyes. 'Those eyes should be registered as lethal weapons. Most women would be putty in his hands if he only knew their effect. They offered her a moment's peace, a brief sanctuary. Oof, get you head back in the game, he knows you're an Agent but it's like he doesn't know he knows. He used the title 'Agent' like he'd use 'miss or sir,' unconsciously. This needs to be reported and evaluated.
She smiled her devastating 'I want you' smile. "I'll just do some window shopping and stop by around 4, Chuck." But her mark wasn't paying any attention to her. His entire being was focused elsewhere. Most marks would be pawing the ground by now, raging erections canceling out all other thoughts except her. She quickly looked around, taking in her surroundings, evaluating threat levels.
The object of his undivided attention was a small AmerAsian woman with smoky green eyes and a smile only for the mark. This must be the wife. She was dressed in the female version of the mark's 'uniform' that screamed 'geek alert' on him but on her softly chimed 'beautiful intelligent woman.' She would pose the primary obstacle between the agent and the man who'd unwittingly identified himself as knowing about the intersect.
For one of the few times in her adult life Sarah Walker felt…inadequate, plain and of no consequence. 'I wonder if I took off all my clothes if he'd even notice? When was the last time anyone looked at me like that? Hell, when had anyone ever looked at me like that?'
'Get control of the mark and the situation, Agent'.
She reached over the counter and put her hand on his forearm. "Chuck, I said I'll just do some window shopping and be back around 4 pm, is that all right?"
He turned his head and glanced at her, as if annoyed. His eyes, once beckoning and welcoming, were now dark and closed off. "Sure, that will be fine. See you then. Have a nice day." California formula response and dismissal. She hated California.
But as he turned Walker saw an incredible smile light up his face as he reached out and took the brunette's hand and left the known world for a better place.
She sighed to herself.
Sarah Walker had just been dismissed and forgotten and she knew it. And she didn't like it one bit.
She would report the situation and her observations back to the Director and General and await further instructions. That meant another 'red eye' flight back to D.C. for her. Her frequent flier miles were already racking up.
This boring assignment suddenly offered challenges that appealed to her competitive spirit. No one ignored her for long and those that did, did so at their own peril.
As she walked away from the service counter she heard the ultimate dismissal. "Who? Oh, her. She's just a customer with a screwed up cell phone. I forgot to ask, did we get spots in the windsurfing class? I have to rework the schedules a bit and need to know. And do you want take-out tonight? Ellie's working and it's your turn to cook, O' Domestic Goddess of Burbank. I think Thai, maybe?"
Secret agent ploys rebuffed and dismissed as nothing by a pair that thinks windsurfing and takeout are life's monumental issues of the day.
So why did she suddenly feel so alone and trivial?
Wednesday morning
Ft Meade, MD
NSA Headquarters
Conference Room
"Agent Walker, you're sure he addressed you by title and name?"
"Yes, Director, and it was in a manner like you or I would use "Miss" or "Mister". No hesitation, no evidence of subterfuge, just a straight forward acknowledgment and used properly in a sentence. It was too quick to have been planned. It was a spontaneous response to my question."
"And did he greet you the same way when you returned for your 'broken' phone?"
"No, General. Another tech gave me the phone. The mark had already left for the day. His note told me the problem occurred so frequently that there was no charge for a simple fix. There was no salutation, just a hurried note of explanation. He signed it 'C. Bartowski, Supervisor'. No further indication or recognition of my title or affiliation."
"We need more information. Agent Walker, you will partner with Major John Casey of my agency and will conduct maximum surveillance on the subject watching for any further indications of the presence of the intersect. A human intersect would be an amazing advancement in our abilities to combat international terrorism as well as enhance our overall understanding of how the intersect develops in a human brain."
"The agency will provide you with a cover job and a place to stay. Major Casey will want to be as close as possible physically to this Bartowski to monitor all communications and computer activities in his household. We will also conduct 24/7 visual and audio surveillance of all occupants."
"If this Bartowski has somehow absorbed the download then it is imperative that he be secured in a facility totally controlled by us. The risk of him falling into the wrong hands is simply too great. The security of the nation is at stake. A maximum effort is required by all parties and agencies and any collateral damage has been sanctioned at the highest level of the National Command Authority."
"Other assets are being mobilized to do an in-depth investigation of this Charles Bartowski. I think it's interesting that General Beckman feels it necessary to sequester this young man when in fact he would most probably function much more effectively as a member of an action team. He is in a loving relationship with his wife. He would not function well if he was suddenly taken to a secure facility. Further, I submit that any action such as putting him in a bunker would reduce his willingness to cooperate."
"No, General Beckman, the CIA will not support any detention action against Mr. Bartowski. You are assuming that he will not cooperate, that he will be recalcitrant, when in fact, everything we know about him suggests otherwise. He needs to be designated as a security asset and assigned a team of handlers. This is the perfect opportunity to see if real time access to intelligence data will underscore the original premise of the Omaha project."
"Agent Walker, you need to prepare yourself for a long term deep-cover assignment. Do you agree to undertake such an arduous assignment so soon after leaving a similar environment?"
"Yes, Director Graham, of course."
"Good. I know you caught the 'red eye' in from L.A. so I expect you to be back in Los Angeles on Friday and ready to initiate contacts on Monday. Clear up your affairs here in D.C. and contact me upon arrival for any updates. Thank you again for your commitment to the greater good."
Wednesday 11am
Secure Call
Burbank, CA
"You understand your instructions, Major Casey? The potential danger to the country should a human intersect exist is far too great a risk. There are too many opportunities for capture, compromise or defection. The desire to provide real-time information to a bunch of cowboys running around playing spy vs. spy in the real world is ludicrous. The life of one young man is hardly worth the risk to 300,000,000 Americans. You will initiate an elimination operation and have it completed before the CIA's Agent and handler is in place on Monday."
Diane Beckman understood inter-agency politics. Arthur Graham wanted to enhance the prestige of his humint operations whereas the NSA chose the 'high ground' of satellites and analytical interpretation of data to determine threats. The CIA was a dinosaur crumbling towards extinction and it's budget and staff would be forfeit to the NSA upon its demise. The age of boots on the ground was over. The human intersect project had just been cancelled and so had one Charles Bartowski.
Wednesday Evening
Los Angeles
John Casey had many contacts from service in the former Soviet Union. Many of these contacts owed their current lives or livelihoods to him. One such man was Yvegny Andryevich Petrovich, a former minor officer in the NKVD, and now a successful entrepreneur in the lucrative world of prostitution in Los Angeles. One call and the arrangements were made. A money drop was established and the opportunities would be created to complete the assignment. A face-to-face meeting among old friends would be the setting for the final payoff once the task was completed. Just like the old days in the war with the Evil Empire. He missed the good old days.
Wednesday Evening
Casa Bartowski
It was just the two of them for dinner. Ellie had the 2nd shift and wasn't due in until midnight. Chuck had been treated like a Greek God this evening… Lynn had once again presented him with a burnt offering. And now was in need of consoling.
"Hey, babe, it's no big deal. It wasn't bad. It was my fault anyway for distracting you with my rant about Morgan and Anna. Don't cry, Lynn. It breaks my heart when you do that."
"I'll never be able to cook like your sister, Chuck. (sniff, sniff). You might as well accept your fate. (sniff, sniff, sniff). You'll starve once Ellie moves out and goes back East. Or you'll just have to do all the cooking."
The sniffling became giggling then outright laughter.
"You little snip. You did that deliberately. All you wanted was to make me feel bad and take over the cooking. Well, when Ellie goes to Johns Hopkins, maybe I'll just go with her rather than starve here with you."
Silence. Big mistake, Chuck.
Lynn looked up at him with real tears in her eyes this time. No crocodile tears. Real big ones that flowed down her cheeks.
"I'm sorry. It was a joke, Lynn. I won't leave you until I die. And then I'll probably hang around for a while, making sure I'm properly mourned and you don't run away with that new guy, John. I see you making eyes at him."
She hugged him tightly and sighed. Hormones. These damned hormones. Maybe I should talk to Ellie before Christmas gets everyone too busy. I just don't know how we'll afford this place on our salaries with Ellie gone so she should look for a sublet tenant. We're going to have to move to another place. And now, with a baby on the way. I'm afraid to tell him. He's got so much on his plate and this is just one more thing for him to obsess about.
"Chuck, I need to tell you something. Please don't be angry. It's your fault, too, y'know? It takes two to tango, round eye."
"Lynn, what's wrong? What did I do?"
""Lynn?"
"Chuck, you knocked me up."
"Chuck?"
"Chuck?!"
Lynn had never before seen the look that walked across her husband's face. He went from shocked to worried to concerned to pleased to extremely pleased to insufferably smug to that special loving look. And she'd never seen him smile so widely.
"I want a girl. We'll call Ellynn after the two most important women in my life. Is that OK with you? I mean, well, it's selfish of me, what name did you want?"
"If it's a boy, Jason Charles, if it's a girl, I love Ellynn."
"Where you going, Chuck?" He was dialing his cell and walking out the front door.
"Ellie, you're going to be an aunt." The scream could be heard without a cell phone.
Thursday evening
Casa Bartowski
Ellie Bartowski was in rare form. She'd already presented Lynn with lists of things she needed to do to prepare for the blessed event and she'd given her niece or nephew an early birthday present. She'd enrolled Lynn in a natural childbirth program that provided prenatal and postnatal health care and OB/GEN services for a flat fee. Ellie had paid the fee and would brook no objections.
"I get a helluva discount and this way I'll be involved in the process even though I'll be in Baltimore. I'm sorry now I applied to JH for the fellowship. I should be here to help you and Chuck. I feel like I'm abandoning you in your darkest hour. I'm a shitty aunt and the baby's not even here yet."
Part of the cause of the 'rare form' was due to two bottles of white wine she'd sucked down unassisted since Lynn had switched to water for the duration.
"Ellie, don't be a putz. You've done everything anyone could do. It's up to us to handle the rest. We'll miss you but I'll bet Chuck will find a way to do video conferencing so you'll be able to see the bump become a watermelon. I'll miss you, big sis. Damned hormones. I'm going to cry."
Friday morning
Burbank, CA
BuyMore
John Casey was nothing if not a meticulous planner. He checked the off-site callboard and confirmed that 'Bartowski' was designated for any unscheduled off-site tech support.
He placed a call to his Russian friend and then went back to his disgusting job of selling imported crap to people who had no pride or patriotism and simply wanted the cheapest product to fill their empty lives.
Friday
BuyMore
Burbank, CA
2:40pm
The support call came in at 2:40. A major customer with a cascade server failure on the other side of town. Rebooting the systems did not alleviate the problem. The on-call Tech Support Herder was dispatched.
Friday
Burbank Hospital
Burbank, CA
3:50pm
Ellie Bartowski was paged and told to report to the ER immediately. She was met by the ER resident who took her into a trauma room and gently asked for confirmation of the identity of the body. The doctor signed off on the form and set time of death as 3:40pm.
Friday
BuyMore
Burbank, CA
4:05pm
The two Burbank police officers, one male and one female walked up the aisle to the Nerd Herder support desk and asked to speak with Charles Bartowski.
"That's me, officers, how can I help you?" Chuck smiled. His day was almost over and he and Lynn had plans for the evening. He was taking her out to dinner to celebrate their good fortune.
"Mr. Bartowski, your wife, Lynn, was in a car accident. Her company vehiclewas broad sided by a stolen delivery truck and she was taken to Burbank Hospital where she died of her injuries. We're very sorry for your loss and will take you to the hospital. Your sister, Dr. Bartowski, is with your wife and will remain there until you arrive."
The female officer walked around the counter and took Chuck by the hand and wrapped her arm around his shoulders and led him to the waiting police vehicle. It was Morgan who finally approached with the obvious question. "Hey, Chuck, buddy, what's wrong? Are you in trouble?"
"Sir, Mr. Bartowski's wife was in an accident. We're taking him to the hospital." He motioned for his partner to take the stricken man to the car and he'd follow.
"Some fucking crack head stole a delivery truck and t-boned your friend's wife's vehicle. She didn't survive and we're looking for the bastard who escaped on foot. There were crack rocks on the seat that he apparently spilled. She didn't have a chance. I'm sure she felt nothing. It happened too quickly and the truck was going damned fast. Excuse me now, I have to go."
Anna ran up to Morgan and asked the same question. "Where are the cops taking Chuck?"
Morgan looked at her and dragged her into an awkward embrace. "Lynn's dead, Anna. She was killed in an accident. They're taking Chuck to the hospital to be with her. Ellie's there. She'll take care of everything. Oh, Anna, what's he going to do without her?"
Anna sat an upset Morgan down behind the Herder counter and went and banged on Big Mike's door. A few minutes later Big Mike came out, made the announcement and closed the store. Everyone liked Chuck and Lynn. Everyone was upset. Including John Casey. He'd forgotten that there were two Bartowskis.
Friday
Burbank Hospital
Burbank, CA
4:30pm
Ellie had told the nurses to remove as much evidence of trauma as possible and to remove the bloody clothing and all the emergency equipment and supplies that were scattered throughout the room. Then Ellie had washed as much of the blood and glass from her sister-in-law as she could and brushed her hair. The police had brought Lynn's purse from the wrecked Herder and now Ellie was clutching it to her as if she could somehow change all this if she just squeezed it hard enough.
Chuck stood beside Lynn and put his head on her beast and cried. He cried for her and their unborn child. He cried for himself and his lost love. He cried because he had not told her he loved her that day. He cried because he was already dying without his green-eyed girl in his life. He cried because he had promised her he would never leave her and he'd never asked her to make the same promise. If she had promised him, she'd still be alive. She never broke a promise to him.
Ellie was in doctor mode and she knew she had to be strong for Chuck. Later, after she got him home, she would fall apart and begin mourning her little sister and her baby and her brother, a widower at 26.
For all his bluster and barking, Big Mike was a gentle and emotional man who hid his feelings behind a gruff exterior and a loud bark. Right now he was very emotional and very loud.
"I don't care if it's after 5pm, you get your ass in gear and get those insurance checks processed and in my hands by 2pm Monday or I will fly up there and kick your vice presidential ass from one floor of corporate to the executive suite."
"One of our own has been killed while on duty and her husband is an employee and will need paid time off and counseling that I fully expect corporate to endorse and pay for. Get those death benefit checks to me by Monday. I don't want that fine young man worrying about how he's going to pay for his wife's funeral. No, sir, he will have enough to worry about. His friends will have his back. You corporate types will now have to walk the walk to match all your over-paid talk."
Friday
LAX International
Los Angeles, CA
6:45pm
"Graham, secure."
"Walker, secure. I've arrived in Los Angeles and will be in place to commence operations by end of day tomorrow. Any changes or updates to the situation or my orders, sir?"
"Sarah, Lynn Bartowski was killed in an automobile accident earlier today. She was on her way to handle a trouble report when her vehicle was struck by a stolen truck. She was killed instantly. That's it on the surface. However, the company denies ever placing the assistance call to the Herder help line. They have no reports of problems. The police are searching for the driver and believe it was a crack head because of the evidence 'conveniently' found at the scene."
"And you think...?"
"I don't think, Sarah, I know. I just can't prove it. But I wouldn't put much faith in intra-agency cooperation. Agent Walker, you'll have a much more difficult time bonding with the asset. I've made some changes in your role as well as your employment. Details will be on your computer when you arrive at your hotel in Burbank."
"Sweetie, this one is going to require a lot out of you. You're going to have to be 'real' for him if this is going to work. I know 'Sarah Walker' can do it. The question I have is whether or not you can handle it. Do you wish to abort your assignment, Jenn?
"No, Uncle Art. I can handle it. And Director Graham, please don't call me 'Jenn' again. It's been 14 years since you got me out of that hell hole and recruited me. You only call me that when you feel guilty about an assignment you're given me. I'll be fine, I promise. Give my love to Aunt Cathy. I'm sorry I didn't get to see her this trip."
"Good bye, Agent Walker. I'll speak with you on Monday after you have reviewed the updates on your assignment. Meet Major Casey as previously arranged. Watch your back on this one, Sarah. There's always the possibility of blue on blue."
Oh, shit. 'Blue on Blue' was military jargon for friendly fire. The director was warning her that she couldn't rely on her 'partner'.
Saturday
Café Mockva
11:15pm
John Casey strolled into the supper club and was assailed by odors and ambiance of his time spent in Russia. The Café Mockva (Moscow) was a place Russian émigrés came to when they got home sick.
"Ah, Ivan Ivanovich, it is good to see you again. I hope you are well and have good news for me?"
"Yvegny Andryevich Petrovich, you and I are in need of more vodka and some soft companionship. Let's sit and talk about old times in better places. Much has changed in the world since we sat in your dacha drinking tea and watching the snows fall."
After an hour of drinking, John suggested that Petrovich accompany him to the alley to relieve themselves. Both knew it was spy-speak for getting paid off.
"You know, Yvegny Andryevich, we are getting too old for this. Here is a little something for your retirement fund," and handed him a thick envelope with his left hand and shot him with the silenced Walther he held in his right. He tore open the envelope and stuffed about $1,000 in Ben Franklins into the mouth of the fresh corpse.
It was a Russian Mafia message that Petrovich had snitched on his fellows for cash. The amount was significant in that it said the betrayal was of someone far up the food chain. All this was maskirovka, dolls within dolls, to send a misleading message to both the mob and any cops investigating the shooting.
No loose ends, no mouths to speak and no path of breadcrumbs to lead anyone back to the NSA or its agent.
Casey put the rest of the cash in his coat pocket for his own 'retirement fund' and quickly left the alley, walked 3 blocks to his car and then drove to his hotel. Tomorrow he would move into the NSA-provided apartment and surveillance center. He also planned to meet with Sarah Walker if she arrived prior to Monday.
Too bad about the girl but it was collateral damage and Casey knew that was government for 'shit happens'. He was sure he'd find quite a few opportunities to complete his mission and perhaps even find a way to blame it on the CIA agent. That would be sweet.
EndGreenEyedGirl2