AN: Let me start off by saying thank you. To everyone who has taken the time to read and review this story. I realize that all authors say this, believe me I never thought I would be typing it, but hearing what you guys think of my writing is the most incredible thing I have ever experienced.

I am proud of this chapter. It took a few rewrites but I like the way it turned out. I hope you do too.

I do not own Chuck or any of its characters.

Chuck stared at the screaming man jerking around on the floor. Randill was grasping a collar around his neck as agonizing shrieks pierced the air around him like spears. Chuck grimaced at the sight of a man in such clear pain. He looked up at Sarah who glanced back at him. Her eyes swept his body and when she looked at his face, he gave the most reassuring smile he could muster, before pushing himself up from the frigid, steel chair.

Sarah stepped back to steady her husband, who seemed a hair's breath away from collapsing. She slung his arm around her shoulders and positioned herself so she could hold some of his weight while still being able to fire the gun in her other hand if necessary. It felt so good to have him back in her arms, to feel his breath on her skin. She had him now, and she not going to let him get separated from her again.

The guards, who had been staring at a convulsing Randill with a mixture of fear, disgust, and morbid curiosity, saw the couple's movements and in a flash had their guns trained on the two spies again. The English man gave a smile that didn't come close to his eyes. "You can't escape. You two are surrounded by my men, there's nothing you can do that would not end up in your deaths. Just put the gun down Agent Walker."

Sarah looked down at Randill, he had stopped moving, stopped breathing. She couldn't let that happen to Chuck, she wouldn't.

Sarah fixed her gaze on the English man and narrowed her eyes. Her mind kicked into overdrive trying to find a way out of the situation. "You're going to kill us anyway, at least let us know the name of the man who took us down, every spy deserves that much right?" She needed to keep him talking, until she came up with some sort of plan.

The man studied her and thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Alright," He stopped for a moment and chuckled at a joke only he seemed to find funny. "Sovek, my name is Maxwell Sovek."

Chuck frowned, "You sure?" he asked. Both Sarah and Sovek raised their eyebrows. "I mean when I hear Sovek, I think like"-the man was starting to look increasingly impatient- "Russian… mafia and… you know what it d-doesn't matter."

An awkward silence stretched between every member of the room.

"Right, well, back to what I was saying, put your guns down or I will tell my men to shoot you."

Sarah shook her head, "No, you said you needed us alive, you wouldn't kill us."

"But I would be more than willing to kneecap you." He said, his voice completely steady and serious. Sarah frowned but kept her gun raised.

"Sarah, just do what he says, I'd rather not die here." Chuck said. Unlike before, his voice was now laced with pain. His wounds were deep, deep enough to bleed out if they weren't treated. She stared at him; there was a look in his eyes, almost like he was trying to tell her something. She frowned quizzically.

Chuck clenched his jaw. This was not looking good for them. He forced his face into a faint imitation of his flash face. Them he looked at Sarah with questioning eyes.

This time she understood what he was telling her. I can still flash. Should I? She widened her eyes and just barely shook her head. If Chuck flashed Sovek would know he had the Intersect, that could not be allowed to happen.

Sovek seemed to be growing impatient. "Drop the gun now Agent Walker!" He commanded and Sarah looked at him then back at Chuck. She looked at his blood covered chest and felt his labored breaths. They had to get out of there. She was not going to let them hurt her husband again. Chuck was pleading through his eyes now. She knew he was scared and wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of wherever they were. She clenched her jaw, and looked at the ground. Frustration rolled over her. She glanced back at Chuck and very slowly nodded.

He took one more second to give Sarah a nervous smile, then Chuck looked over at the twenty plus guards surrounding him and he gave into the super computer pulsing against his brain. Thousands of images flashed before his eyes. Pictures of punches, kicks, head holds, blocks, hundreds of different martial arts techniques passed before him. The agent took a second to process the onslaught of information before giving his wife's hand a squeeze and straightening his back.

They both looked at each other. The odds were that they were both going to die in this room. But if anyone could defy the odds, it was the human Intersect and the best spy the world has ever seen. The couple nodded at each other then turned toward their opponents, and smiled.

The guards fired and they both dived out of the way. Sarah grabbed the man closest to her. Using him as a human shield, she fired at the other guards over his shoulder.

Chuck dropped to the ground and swept the legs out from two men. He launched himself up and towards another guard, making sure to steer clear of the barrel of his gun. He held the man in a headlock and twisted the weapon out of his hand. He fired at the swarm of men towering down on him, making sure to only aim at legs and arms.

The fight lasted for a good 10 minutes. Sarah and Chuck used whatever they could as cover, They received more than a few punches and both had bloody noses, but they managed to make an opening in the enemy's defense just long enough to slip into the hallway and start running.

They sprinted away from the guards. With their thoughts focused on simply putting as much distance between them and the spraying bullets pursuing them. They had no clue where they were going. The compound was a maze of staircases and hallways.

From what they could tell, they had been near the top of the building. Around 7 stories up, much too high to jump, even if they could find a window.

They raced through corridors filled with locked doors. Some seemed to be empty while the inhabitants of others yelled and banged against their cell doors as Sarah and Chuck passed.

At some point they found a staircase and practically flew down three flights of steps. Just as they ran past the door marked Level 4, a small emblem caught Chuck's eye. It was an image of the word "Hatay" in a red circle. Chuck stared at it and felt his mind rush. Letters flashed before him. The letters became words, the words became sentences, the sentences formed documents. Pages and pages of documents flashed before Chuck, millions of letters, it took him half a second to comprehend it all.

"Chuck, we don't have time to stop!" Sarah hissed at him urgently and tugged his hand. Chuck focused on her and smiled.

"I know where we are," he said, Sarah blinked, surprised, "follow me." With that Chuck began to run with a new sense of direction and purpose. He ran down two more flights of stairs. He ran forward, stopped, turned left, kept running, took another left, raced down a flight of stairs Sarah hadn't even seen, then took a right. Chuck continued to follow the map in his head until they reached the end of a hallway.

He bent down and studied the keypad to the door on his right. After a moment's thought he pushed a series of numbers and the light flashed green. Chuck motioned for Sarah to go inside the room. She obliged and he followed.

They were in a prison cell. It was small and bare. The furniture consisted of one beat up, gray mattress in the corner. For a few minutes, all they could do was stand there and catch their breaths. When they could talk again, Sarah turned to her husband.

"Ok," she started, still out of breath, "what the hell is going on?" Chuck looked at her and opened his mouth to reply, but all that came out was a strangled cry and he stumbled back. Sarah rushed forward as his back hit the cell wall and Chuck sank to the floor.

"Chuck!" she cried, kneeling down. She put one hand to his forehead to find it covered in sweat and running way to hot. "Your burning up," she informed him, her voice a mix of worry, regret, and fear. He looked up at her and met her eyes. The pain he felt outweighed anything he had experienced before, but their was no way in hell he was going to tell an already vengeful Sarah Walker that. He shoved the pain to the back of his mind.

"I flashed on a name painted on one of the staircases we passed." Chuck said between labored breaths. "We're in a Turkish prison called Hatay, it's in Antakya. Lucky for us, the Intersect had-" his breath escaped in a cry as a new wave of pain rolled over him, knifing his chest. "Blueprints!" he was forcing his lips to move to form words, he needed to stay conscious. "Blueprints of the prison. Above us is the only way out."

Sarah looked up, in the corner of the room was a grate built into the ceiling. "Air ducts." She whispered, then looked at her husband almost smiling at the newfound hope for escape. But Chuck was slumped against the wall, his breathing ragged and pained. For the first time she allowed her eyes to wonder down to the rest of his body. Blood was flowing freely from the slashes across his chest and legs. He was pale and shaking from the loss of the vital, crimson liquid, he looked like he was about to pass out.

Sarah looked away again, fighting the tears forming in her eyes. She wasn't sure if it was anger or worry or fear that formed a lump in her throat and made it hard to talk, but at that moment it didn't matter. She separated herself from the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. Sarah focused her mind on her objective; to get herself and Chuck out alive.

"Sarah," She turned to Chuck again, managing to look him in the eyes this time, eyes that seemed so much more intense than they had just moments before. "Sarah I'm…W-we both know that I can't…" He looked at her with determined eyes, but they were filled with pain. "If I try to escape, I'll collapse before we step one foot outside." Sarah opened her mouth to speak, but Chuck cut her off, "No please, let me finish. They said they… they need me alive Sarah. If I run now, there's no way either one of us will survive. But…but if I… if I stay, I can divert their attention from you, you'll be able to get away... t-to tell Beckman-"

"No, Chuck I am not going to leave you here to be tortured." Her voice was steady, he was not going to sacrifice himself for her, she was not going to let him.

"Sarah you have to believe me," He continued, almost pleading now, "I would only ask this if there was no other way, you need to-"

"No, I won't. We're getting out of here."

"Sarah-"

She didn't let him get any farther, "Chuck, I love you, but shut up. You are my husband and there is no way in hell I am going to leave you in the hands of terrorists."

Relief washed over him, "Oh thank god." Sarah raised an eyebrow, "I really don't want to die." He clarified.

She smiled, "Well lucky for you, neither do I." They both smiled and Chuck gave a quiet laugh.

…

"Devan, I think I'm going crazy." Eleanor Woodcomb informed her husband as if she were commenting on the weather rather than declaring her own insanity. The muscular man lying beside her raised his eyebrows at the statement.

"Um, ok babe, you want to talk about it?" It was true Ellie had been acting weird these past few months, but Devan had just assumed she was still adjusting to the move. But Ellie had never really struck him as someone who would call herself crazy, so maybe there was something wrong.

Ellie turned to face her husband propping her head up on her arm as she did so to prevent her face from being buried in the pillow. She looked at him and frowned, "Does it make me crazy to think I'm crazy?" She asked seriously. So seriously that Devan was almost taken aback.

"Ellie talk to me, is there something I should know." There was silence for a moment, then.

"It's stupid, really, but… do you remember when Chuck was at Stamford and he was up late at the library in the middle of the night? Remember, het tripped on his way back to the dorm and sprained his ankle. He couldn't walk and no one was around to hear him yell. But I got this feeling that he was hurt and went looking for him. I found him on the other side of the campus and he always wondered how I knew he needed me. Well I have that feeling again Devan."

She stared at Devan hard, and he just felt lost. "So you think Chuck… twisted his ankle?"

Ellie gave a frustrated sigh, "No, I- I don't know exactly what it is I just know he's in trouble Devan."

She was frantic now, her voice quickly rising in pitch. Desperately and mildly bewildered, he tried to calm her down, "Whoa, babe, I'm sure Chuck is fine. He has Sarah and Casey with him remember?"

"I know, I know. That's why I think I'm going crazy."

Devan smiled and stroked her cheek with his fingers. "Ellie I can assure you that you are anything but crazy." She smiled, so he kept going, "You are the smartest, sexiest, kindest person I have ever met."

Ellie smiled and kissed her husband, but he could tell part of her was still not completely there. So he sighed and looked at her again. "Look, if you're really worried give Morgan a call, if anyone knows where Chuck is, it's Morgan."

"I just wish we weren't so far apart now." She whispered, longing clear in her voice.

"I know babe, but jut remember how awesome Chicago is, and how great baby Clara is doing with her new nanny." The pure enthusiasm in his voice made her smile and sink further into the bed.

Baby Clara seemed to have a sense for when people were talking about her, and she decided that it was just the right moment for her to start crying. The two parents groaned and climbed their way out of bed to appease their daughters ear-splitting demands.

…

In the middle of February, Russia is obnoxiously cold. That was Morgan Grimes' first impression of Moscow. Snow covered every inch of space, from the snow drifts piled high on the side of the road to the light fluff that was already starting to accumulate in his hair.

"You know," Morgan said as he scrambled to catch up to Casey as the two of them made their way through the streets of the crowded capital. "When people say that snow is like a blanket, they have no idea what they're talking about. Because blankets are warm and soft and wonderful, and snow, well snow is cold and just not wonderful at all. I'll admit, it does sort of have a nice charm that I could see people enjoying. Sort of magical huh Casey?...Casey?"

The large man didn't turn around; he didn't even seem to register Morgan's ramblings. He just kept muttering to himself. Something about wiping out lots and lots of communists.

Morgan stared at his friend and cautiously said, "You know Casey, Russia hasn't been communist for a while now." Casey focused on the short man in behind him for a split second, grunted, then when back to his grumbling, but Morgan definitely heard the addition of the world socialist to his murderous ramblings.

A few minutes passed filled with nothing but awkward silence and the crunch of snow. Finally Casey looked up and scanned his surroundings. He checked to see if anyone was close enough to be watching them then he abruptly turned down an alley. The dark path was little more than an empty space between buildings. It seemed to have no special significance, nor did it seem like the type of place Casey would just take a casual stroll down. Morgan opened his mouth to ask where the hell they were going when Casey came to a halt.

Morgan barely managed to avoid crashing into his partner who was hard at work examining a wall. After a confused second Morgan spoke, "Um, Casey, if it's not to hard, would you mind explaining why you seem o be having what I can only describe as a very serious telekinetic conversation with a wall." Casey growled something that might have been a "Shut up," but other than that he made no indication of having heard the short man.

After a minute of careful inspection Casey placed his hand on a section of the brick and a faint buzzing noise filled the air as a green light shown between the Colonel's fingers. The buzzing grew to a rumbling as a large section of the brick sunk back and slid out of the way, revealing a dark, narrow tunnel.

"Cool," Morgan said as Casey climbed through the gap, "This is just like that part in Harry Potter, except you know he was a wizard, and we're spies, and that seemed a lot less ominous and creepy than this does now."

"Shut up moron," Casey growled as Morgan crawled in behind him, "have you ever heard 'Silence is Golden'?" Morgan most likely would have retaliated to that if the wall hadn't slid closed behind him, plunging the agents into pitch black.

"Um… Casey? This is normal, right? You haven't, I don't know, led us into some evil death trap by any chance have you?" Casey didn't dignify that question with an answer, instead he began to make his way forward through the complete darkness, pausing only long enough to yell back at Morgan to hurry up, which he did out of fear that he would get left behind to die.

After what felt like a hours to Morgan and two minutes to Casey a faint light appeared ahead of them. Casey grunted in welcome at the upcoming relief from the constricted tunnel. Morgan looked ahead to see what Casey had grunted at. His eyes widened.

"Oh no, no no no, bad idea. We have to turn back Casey, right now!"

"What's gotten into you?" Casey said in mild disinterest.

"Come on really? It's a light at the end of the tunnel Casey! You know, don't go towards the light!"

"Grimes, another word and I will turn around and knock the crazy out of you with my gun."

"You'd shoot me? Me? After all we've been through I thought we were friends. Wait, how'd you even get a gun through customs? I saw you go through the X-rays."

"Call it a trick of the trade, and no I won't shoot you, unless you keep rambling like an idiot, but it wouldn't be all that hard to knock you out with a large metal weapon in my hands, so for the love of America, shut the hell up!"

Morgan did just that. With silence surrounding them, the two men emerged from the tunnel, shielding their faces from the bright lights. Casey stood with all the grace and pride of a Colonel, Morgan stumbled around half blind, bumping into every object in the room twice and tripping over his own feet.

"Morgan!?" A familiar accented voice exclaimed incredulously from close by, then she seamed noticed the larger, unmoving man, "and Casey." Morgan froze and stood erect as the tips of his ears began to turn pink. It couldn't be her, but that voice. Chills ran up Morgan's spine, which felt strange when combined with the heat rising in his face.

Carefully the Buy More manager lifted his hand from his face. There she was, tall, sexy, her long arms and legs lean and muscled, her glossy hair falling past her shoulders. Morgan stared at her for a second, then blinked and smiled, he felt nothing, no sense of longing or lust. It wasn't shame or anything connected to it that had turned his cheeks red, just his own memories of times past.

He nodded to her, "Carina, nice to, see you again." She raised an eyebrow at him and gave him a once-over, then shrugged. Zondra stood next to her, a large gun resting on her shoulder casually, her dark eyes regarding the Morgan with curiosity. "Zondra! It has been a long time hasn't it." Morgan, having no idea why the former Cats were in Russia or why Casey had sought them out, he simply smiled and hoped everything would be explained soon.

"Casey," Carina said, glancing at him with abstract distaste.

"Carina," The Colonel responded coldly with a stiff nod.

Zondra raised her eyebrows, then frowned, then her face turned into a mask of annoyance and impatience. "Alright, we've all said hi, now how about you boys tell us what the hell you're doing in our safe house and interrupting our mission." As she said the gun dropped from her shoulder to her hands and although the weapon wasn't aimed at either of them, Casey and Morgan felt a definite sense that she could and would kill them in seconds if they weren't careful.

"Hey now," Casey said placing his palms toward them in the worldwide gesture for 'I mean no harm'. "We came to ask for your help." All three of the room's occupants stared at him as if he were crazy.

"What does the strong John Casey need our help with?" Carina asked mockingly. Casey growled but managed to bite back any retort that would earn him a bullet or fist.

"Sarah and Chuck have been taken, we need your help to rescue them."

The two females frowned, "Why not use CIA resources?" Zondra asked narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

"Because this needs to be done off the books." Casey replied, he sounded angry and annoyed, Morgan had no idea what was going on. Why hadn't Casey told him this was the plan in the first place? What was the point of the secrecy?

"Why?" Carina prodded. And Casey growled in irritation.

"Because no one can know why he was taken." Morgan's eyes widened as he realized what Casey was about to tell them, and why they hadn't talked about it until they were in a CIA safe house away from prying ears. What Casey was about to do was illegal, and Morgan was behind him 100 percent.

"Why?" Zondra asked more force in her voice now.

Casey looked at them, growled some more, opened his mouth, closed it, and when it became clear that Casey couldn't divulge government secrets without a good ten minutes of internal wrestling Morgan stepped in.

"Have either of you two ladies ever heard of a thing called the Intersect?" He said with a smile.

End