Solving Burbank, Chapter 2 (3/9)
Author: dettiot
Rating: T
Summary: The road to the altar will be a bumpy one for Chuck and Sarah. It's not because of their relationship, though-it's their jobs causing the problems. Old friends and new enemies will appear as they try to eliminate Fulcrum. Will two spies get to live happily ever after? Continuing the story of Discovering Omaha and Building Rome.
Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck. No copyright infringement intended.
Author's Note: Wow, people really don't like Bryce. That's becoming clear with the kind of comments I've seen in the handful of reviews I've gotten. Ah, well-I like him, and he's important to Chuck in this story, so I'll just have to adjust to getting fewer reviews! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter!
XXX
Chuck had met Bryce Larkin in the fall of 1999. They had become roommates in their sophomore year and spent their free time together, playing video games and seeing who could eat the most Red Vines without throwing up. In the spring of sophomore year, Bryce had convinced Chuck to do fraternity rush, and when they had both gotten into the same frat, they continued sharing a room.
Bryce was always happy-go-lucky, confident, charming. He was the kind of guy that girls wanted to date and guys wanted to be. At least, Chuck had always wished he was more like Bryce, especially when Chuck was trying to get Jill Roberts to notice him. Bryce was passionate and opinionated and just fun.
But the man standing in front of Chuck now didn't bear much resemblance to his memories of his best friend from college. This Bryce looked . . . hunted. Anxious. The spark seemed to be gone. His eyes kept darting around the alley, and before Chuck had fully recovered his wits, Bryce broke free of Chuck's hold and scooped up his hat and sunglasses.
"Not bad, Chuck. Although your muay Thai could definitely use some work."
"Bryce? What the hell are you doing following me?"
The shorter man rolled his eyes. "Why do you think?"
Before Chuck could respond, there was a click of heels and Sarah was at the mouth of the alley, her gun held at her side and her expression concerned and focused.
"Chuck?" she asked, glancing at Bryce before looking back at him.
At least now he had backup. Chuck frowned. Did he need backup with Bryce? Suddenly, all the questions he had about his old friend were crowding his mind. He gave his head a shake and gestured for Sarah to join them.
"Well, well," Bryce said, his eyes running up and down Sarah. "They're making partners a lot prettier than I remembered." He held his hand out to Sarah. "Bryce Larkin. And you would be?"
Sarah ignored Bryce's hand as she passed Chuck one of his guns, drawn from the back of her jeans. "How many times have I told you, you should always have this?"
"I was just going to be hanging out with Morgan," Chuck said, feeling annoyed that Sarah was bringing this up now. "Who is still in the car waiting for me."
"Do you know what I thought when I got your message and realized you didn't have any way to protect yourself?" Sarah said, annoyance creeping into her voice.
"You know, if I'm interrupting a lover's tiff, I can leave and come back later," Bryce said, sounding a bit more like his old self.
Chuck took a deep breath instead of snapping at Bryce. If he gave in to that urge, it would just keep this encounter on the wrong foot that it had started out on. And although he wanted to reassure Sarah, to apologize for making her worry and try to make his point about not needing a weapon when he was with Morgan, that couldn't be his priority right now.
So he reached out and rested a hand lightly on Sarah's shoulder, a move that could be explained as friendly if necessary, before turning to his old friend. "Bryce, enough. Are you coming in?"
The other man shrugged. "I'm here. I'm outnumbered. Do I really have a choice?"
"Yes, you do," Chuck insisted. "You made the choice to come to Los Angeles. To find me. So?"
He wasn't quite sure where this assertiveness was coming from. Over the course of their friendship, he had usually deferred to Bryce, letting him be the leader. But then, this wasn't about what party to go to. It was a lot more serious.
But this still didn't feel right, so he changed approach. "We'd like to talk to you, Bryce. Would you come with us?"
"What about Morgan?" Sarah asked softly.
"I'll deal with Morgan," Chuck said, keeping his eyes locked on Bryce. He tried to make his voice sound friendly and non-threatening. "What do you say, Bryce? I have to say, I've got a lot of questions-and they're not all about what's happened over the last couple of months."
For a long moment, Bryce's blue eyes were locked on Chuck's brown ones. Then Bryce nodded. "Okay. Let's talk."
It was all he could do not to sigh in relief. "Okay. Okay, great." He paused, his mind racing, then he turned to Sarah. "You take Bryce to the base. I'll drop Morgan off at his house and join you there."
Sarah nodded, her eyes wary as she looked at Bryce. She switched her gun from her right to her left and held her right hand out to him. "Sarah Walker. It's good to meet you, Agent Larkin."
Bryce shook Sarah's hand, his eyes running over her. "Very good to meet you, too." Suddenly, he reached out and grasped Sarah's left wrist, seemingly ignoring the gun in her hand. He turned her hand palm-down and let out a soft whistle. "Nice rock, Agent Walker."
As Bryce's eyes flicked from the ring to Sarah's face and then to Chuck's, Chuck felt a chill go over him. Would Bryce jump to the correct conclusion? If he did, there went any chance of keeping his relationship with Sarah on the down-low until they had gotten the information they needed from Bryce. And with that kind of knowledge, Bryce could keep them off-balance by asking questions instead of answering them.
And again, he was thinking of Bryce as some kind of threat. This was getting ridiculous. Bryce was on their side, for the most part. After all, he had taken out that double agent, prevented Fulcrum from getting the Intersect for themselves. That had to mean he was a good guy, didn't it?
The problem was, Chuck wanted to draw that conclusion about his old friend, wanted that to be the only conclusion he could make. He didn't want to believe that Bryce Larkin from Connecticut was some rogue spy who was trying to destroy the world.
In response to Bryce's comment, Sarah lifted her chin and spoke coolly. "Thank you, Agent Larkin." She tugged her hand out of his grip and tucked her gun into the back of her jeans. "If you'll walk with me, my car is parked nearby. We'll be at our base in twenty minutes. Although I will need to blindfold you. And if you change your mind about coming in, I'm afraid I'll have to change it back."
Her voice was deadly serious and Bryce simply nodded. "Okay."
If Chuck didn't already have plenty of evidence about how Bryce had changed, that single word response would have convinced him. Because Bryce would have normally taken such a show of dominance and done his best to rattle the other person.
What the hell had happened to him?
That question, and many others, would have to wait, though. "I'll walk with you," Chuck said, looking at Sarah. He hoped they might get a moment, find a way to get Bryce out of earshot so he could apologize.
She nodded and gestured to Bryce. "Go ahead. Agent Bartowski will be right behind you."
Although it made him uncomfortable to stick a gun in his friend's back, it made more sense from a tactical standpoint for him to cover Bryce. And since they still didn't know his intentions, they had to act cautiously.
The three of them made an odd group as they walked towards Sarah's Porsche: Chuck, practically on top of Bryce to keep any civilians from spotting the gun, while Sarah walked just behind and to the right of them. Once Bryce was in the Porsche, handcuffed to the door handle and with a blindfold over his eyes, Chuck turned to Sarah. "Sarah-"
"I know," Sarah said, resting a hand on his forearm. "I'm sorry, too. I overreacted when I got your message and realized you didn't have a weapon." She gave him a small, sheepish smile. "Forgive me?"
"Only if you forgive me, too," he said, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders.
"Definitely," she said, leaning up to kiss his cheek quickly. "You better go explain things to Morgan."
"Yeah, that's not gonna be a fun conversation. We were gonna celebrate his new job-he's assistant manager at the Buy More now."
Sarah looked sympathetic as she rubbed his arm. "I'm sorry, Chuck."
"Yeah," he said with a nod. "Me, too. But duty comes first." He planted a kiss of his own on her cheek. "I'll see you at the base as soon as I can. Be careful."
"Always am," she replied with a small grin, before pulling away and getting behind the wheel. With a roar, the car left the parking lot and merged smoothly into the traffic on Beverly Boulevard.
Leaving Chuck to find a way to explain to his best friend why they couldn't hang out after all. Chuck sighed. He had been looking forward to spending time with Morgan-and to getting a break from work. It looked like yet again, he was disappointed. He just hoped Morgan could forgive him for bailing on their plans. He wasn't sure if sizzling shrimp would be enough in this case.
XXX
The CIA had outfitted a small, nondescript office building, as remote as you could get in the sprawl of Los Angeles, for their base. When he stepped into the second-floor conference room that adjoined the private offices, he found Sarah pacing. It wasn't like her, so he immediately went on alert. "Sarah? What's wrong?"
Sarah stopped and turned to face him. "How long were you friends with Bryce? Three years?"
"Closer to four," Chuck said, feeling confused. "Why do you ask?"
"How did you put up with him?" she asked, folding her arms over her chest. "I just can't see how you were friends."
"I've been wondering the same thing," Chuck admitted. "Bryce has changed a lot in the last year and a half, it looks like."
She nodded and took a deep breath. "Not to change the subject, but how did Morgan take you backing out on him?"
Chuck winced. "Not good. I promised we'd have a do-over tomorrow night."
"We'll make sure you can do that," Sarah said, resting a hand on Chuck's shoulder. "But first, we've got to get something from Bryce."
"You don't think we should call it in first? Let Director Graham know that he's here?"
"Let's see what we can find out," Sarah said. "Test the waters."
"All right," Chuck said, squaring his shoulders. "I think I should go in first. If I say 'waffle' you come in and we'll regroup."
"Waffle?" Sarah asked, wrinkling her nose. "How are you going to make that word come up in conversation?"
"Easy-Bryce's favorite food is fried chicken. And what goes with fried chicken but waffles?" Chuck grinned at Sarah and kissed her cheek, trying to act more confident than he really was. Then he turned and walked down the hall to the interrogation room.
The small room was dark, thanks to the black sound-absorbing material on the walls. A two-way mirror allowed the interrogation to be observed while a slim microphone hung from the ceiling to record conversations. A single spotlight, next to the mike, shone on a table and two chairs.
In one of those chairs was Bryce, sitting up straight with his cuffed hands resting on the table. He looked bored. Like he knew what to expect, knew everything that would be asked of him and knew how he would respond. Like he couldn't hope for anything different than what he thought would happen.
But Chuck didn't want him to feel like that. He wanted Bryce to relax. To feel like he could be honest with them. Without honesty, without trust, there was no way to know if Bryce's information was accurate. And more than that . . . Chuck had missed his friend. He would like to have him back, if that was possible.
"Hi, Bryce," he said, dropping down into the other chair.
"Chuck," Bryce said dryly, looking at him. "Your partner is an interesting woman."
"That's not what you would have said in college," Chuck replied, leaning back in his chair. "It would have been some combination of the words hot, sexy, beautiful or future Mrs. Larkin."
"She's a future Mrs. all right, from that rock on her finger." Bryce lifted his eyebrows, looking at Chuck.
It took all Chuck's training and determination to keep his face neutral, to not let Bryce draw him off on a tangent. After several seconds of staring at him, Bryce shook his head and sat back. "Wow. They managed to turn Chuck Bartowski into a real spy."
"Yep," Chuck said, shifting in his chair. "But we're not here to talk about me." He paused, letting his words hang in the air, before leaning forward. "So what happened before graduation, Bryce?"
For just a moment, Bryce looked surprised. Then he schooled his face into blankness. "We took finals."
"That's not what I mean, Bryce," Chuck said, keeping his voice low. "From the minute I told you I had gotten recruited, you changed. You barely talked to me, you left after graduation without saying good-bye . . . we were friends for four years. You helped me talk to girls, I got you through object-oriented programming. We had a lot of good times together. Why did my recruitment change things?"
"Is this why you were supposed to bring me in?" Bryce asked. "To ask me questions about college?"
"Of course not." Chuck resisted the urge to show his frustration by running his hands through his hair. "But I thought we could get that out of the way. Deal with the personal before we got to what the Agency wants to know."
"And I think we should keep this professional," Bryce countered. "There's no reason to dredge up ancient history."
"Ancient his-Bryce, we graduated a year and a half ago."
Bryce shrugged and Chuck nearly rolled his eyes. This diffident air might work for spy missions, but in real life, acting like you didn't care was something that annoyed Chuck beyond words. Why act so cool, especially with someone who had seen you at so many embarrassing moments in your life? Because although Bryce was pretty smooth, there were times when he hadn't been-and Chuck had been there for them.
But if his old roommate wanted to act like Chuck hadn't seen Bryce remove spines from his ass after a romantic encounter gone wrong in the Arizona Cactus Garden or watched him get drunk at the Mausoleum Party and nearly scare himself to death, Chuck wasn't going to rock the boat. Not now, at least. Because Bryce did have a point: keeping things professional would let them deal with the important issues at hand, namely defeating Fulcrum and clearing Bryce's name.
Chuck wanted Bryce to have his career back. To be cleared of any suspicion. And he also wanted Fulcrum to be gone, wiped off the map, totally eliminated. Because it was past time for that terrorist group to be dismantled. And, as a bonus, the sooner that Fulcrum was gone, the sooner he and Sarah could get married.
So he was going to agree with Bryce and push aside his questions about what had happened to their friendship. But he didn't like how distant his old friend was, and Chuck was not going to let this go on forever. He wasn't willing to lose Bryce as a friend, even if Bryce himself wanted to throw away the history between them. Now wasn't the right time, but the two of them were going to work this out at some point.
"Fine, Bryce," Chuck said. "Let's keep this professional, then. Start with what happened when you left Toronto."
Bryce's expression was considering, measuring. Then he spoke. "I was assigned to Toronto after a year in the Falklands. It wasn't much of an improvement. About two months after I arrived in Canada, I realized I was being watched. Tracked. I suspected it was Fulcrum."
"Did you report this?"
He shook his head. "No."
"Why not?" Chuck asked curiously.
Letting out a quiet huff of laughter, Bryce shook his head. "I wasn't exactly in the good graces of the powers that be. That's why I was in the Falklands for a year, when most agents only get assignments of three months there. And that's why I got sent to Toronto." He paused, his eyes locked on Chuck's. "Unless I had real, actionable intelligence, I wasn't going to say boo."
Chuck swallowed but nodded. "So you were being watched."
"Yes," Bryce said with a nod. "By another agent in the office. I tried not to make waves within the office, but . . ." He rotated his wrists inside the handcuffs.
Kicking himself for not thinking of it sooner, Chuck pulled a set of keys out of the pocket of his jeans and uncuffed Bryce, who rubbed his wrists and nodded. "Thanks," he said before continuing. "I was doing good work in Toronto. I thought I was starting to leave my reputation behind me. And then, the agent who I believed had been watching me, he got assigned to a surveillance job with me and he spilled the beans."
Although Chuck wanted to press Bryce on his reputation, he made himself stay focused. "He told you, just like that?"
"Yeah. Up until the day he died, he kept doing dumb things like that," Bryce said. "I took him out about three months ago, to protect myself, although it felt like I was doing Fulcrum a favor."
His voice was so matter-of-fact. It was like he was describing taking out the trash, not killing another human being. Chuck stood up and paced for a moment, needing to take a step back. This unknown agent was Fulcrum and therefore the enemy. He shouldn't be that upset about his death. And while Chuck could logically understand the murder of your enemy, he was more bothered by Bryce. He wasn't vicious or gleeful about killing someone, he wasn't upset or worried. He was . . . cold.
Was this what a real spy was like? If so, Chuck suddenly found himself exceedingly grateful for the Intersect, for Project Omaha, for Sarah, for any and all reasons that kept him from being a "real" spy.
Taking a deep breath, Chuck made himself return to his seat and look straight at Bryce. "So he approached you about Fulcrum?"
There was a glint in Bryce's eyes, something that Chuck couldn't quite figure out. "Yes," he said. "He gave me a bunch of bullshit about how Fulcrum was going to help America become great again, that our intelligence agencies were on the wrong path and it was up to Fulcrum to bring them back to the light."
"Did you believe him?"
Bryce shrugged his shoulders. "Not really. I didn't agree with him on his perspective. Because there's no right or wrong here. There's just logic and reason, and anything else is whatever we need to get through the night. Spies don't have emotions."
How surprising-yet another point on which he disagreed with Bryce.
"But you pretended to be swayed?" Chuck asked, looking straight at his old friend. "According to Director Graham, you went AWOL and were suspected of joining Fulcrum."
For a moment, Bryce's eyes looked away from Chuck's. "Yes. I-I thought that I could gather information about Fulcrum from the inside and then find a way to pass it along to the CIA. Redeem myself by helping knock out a terrorist organization." He shook his head. "The joke was on me-the Fulcrum cell in Toronto was as low-priority as the CIA field office there. I realized pretty quickly that I'd gain nothing there."
"That must have been difficult," Chuck said quietly.
"It wasn't that much more difficult than spending a year in the Falklands, listening to screwing sheep and playing the Brits and the Argentines off each other when it came to who should control the islands," Bryce said, trying to sound casual. But there were cracks in the facade; Chuck could see the disappointment and shame in his eyes, before Bryce looked down at the table.
For a young, ambitious man to find himself in the position of being fooled like that, it must have been galling. Chuck could understand that. And it would be doubly so for Bryce, who had always seemed to excel at anything he attempted. To realize suddenly that he had picked the wrong side . . .
"What did you do then?"
"What could I do except keep playing the game?" Bryce asked, his voice resigned and his gaze still fixed on the metal table. "Although I started moving up the ranks quickly-there wasn't a lot of job security, so there was always chances for the new guy to get promoted fast."
Kind of like the Galactic Empire, Chuck thought to himself.
"The whole time, there was all this chatter about what Fulcrum wanted: the Intersect," Bryce continued. "I picked up enough scraps to know the gist of what it was, and I knew the last thing Fulcrum should have is a supercomputer they could put in their best agent: one Daniel Shaw."
"Did you know who he was?" Chuck asked. He had to admit, he was curious about this man who had become a double agent for Fulcrum.
"I'd heard of him," Bryce said. "That he was a top agent in the CIA's terrorism unit." He smirked. "Looks like the Agency misjudged him."
"That seems to be an understatement," Chuck said, giving Bryce a quick grin.
Bryce nodded and went quiet. Chuck's grin faded as he wondered what the other man was thinking. If Bryce was remembering what he had done to Shaw, all the blood that he now had on his hands. Blood that wasn't buying his way back into the good graces of the CIA.
His heart went out to Bryce, but they had to keep going. "Tell me about the Fulcrum attack on headquarters."
"Not much to say." Bryce shrugged his shoulders. "I had heard what Fulcrum was planning to do-get into Langley and get the Intersect into Shaw. When I found out when that was happening, I jumped my assignment and headed to D.C. I shot Shaw just before he was going to access the Intersect computer and got out. Then I went to ground."
"You weren't worried about Fulcrum figuring out that it was you? Tracking you down and killing you?"
"It seemed pointless to worry about it. Besides, they would have bigger problems than me." His voice was flat.
Before Chuck could think of what to say in response, there was a knock on the door, then it opened to reveal Sarah. "Agent Bartowski? Can I have a word?"
Her timing was impeccable; he could definitely use a break. Chuck looked at Bryce. "Do you need anything? Water, some food?"
"I wouldn't mind some water."
"Coming right up," Chuck said, standing up and turning towards Sarah. She cleared her throat and let her eyes flick over to the opened handcuffs. Chuck paused and tilted his head, then looked back at Bryce. "Do I have to cuff you, Bryce?"
"Not really my call, Chuck."
"I disagree. You say you're not going to try anything, I'll trust you." Chuck leveled his gaze on Bryce. "But if you don't give me something that tells me whether you're willing to work with us, I'll cuff you again."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sarah shift. He guessed she was skeptical about his approach but was willing to back him in front of Bryce. If they didn't show Bryce some kind of trust, he was bound to rabbit at the first chance he got. Bryce had never liked facing the music; he would put it off as long as possible. Dropping off the grid instead of turning himself in after shooting Shaw was just the latest example of that behavior. But maybe, if Bryce realized that they were on his side, he would be willing to stay and deal with what happened.
Bryce didn't say anything. Not verbally, not physically. Then, as if it was against his will, he shook his head. "You don't have to cuff me."
"Good," Chuck said, trying not to let his relief show too much. He turned and followed Sarah out of the interrogation room and into the observation area before slumping against the wall.
Sarah reached out and rested her hand on his shoulder. "Okay?"
He rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Yeah. This is a lot tougher than I thought it would be." Chuck pulled his hand away and looked at her. "He's changed more than I realized. He's not the Bryce I knew."
"You know that your personality changes through training and fieldwork," Sarah said gently. "Given his experiences, it's not surprising that you're having trouble seeing your old friend."
"I get that people change, but I mean, when I get around Morgan, I'm the same guy he's always known. I'm not some robot just because I'm a spy," Chuck protested.
"That's you, though, Chuck." Sarah started stroking his upper arm. "Bryce is a different person."
Blowing out a breath, he straightened up. "Yeah. What do you think?"
"He was pretty cagey on the details," Sarah said. "Now that we've got the big picture, we should start filling in more. If you flash on anything, that will help support Bryce's version of the events."
Chuck nodded and looked at Sarah. "Do you believe him?"
Sarah hesitated. "It doesn't matter if I believe it. What matters is if we can gather enough proof to support his story. But between you and me? It's a plausible sequence of events."
That was good to hear. As he had listened to Bryce, Chuck had been convinced by his tale. If Sarah felt that Bryce was telling them the truth, without really knowing him at all, it made Chuck feel more confident. Made him think that Bryce was on the level with them and they didn't have to worry about some kind of double-cross.
"Let's tag-team him," Chuck said. "With you in there, too, you can help with the questioning."
She arched an eyebrow. "You want me to play bad cop?"
"Not like that," he said quickly. "I just want Bryce to get a feel for you. So he doesn't try to play us off each other."
"That's a pretty suspicious mindset for someone who wants to believe his old buddy," Sarah said, both eyebrows now raised even as her voice was light.
"I do want to believe Bryce. And I think he's telling the truth. But until we know for sure, I . . . I need to remind myself to not go too easy on him."
Sarah's eyes filled with sympathy. She kissed his cheek lightly. "I'll be right there with you. And as soon as we get some real info from Bryce, we can contact Director Graham."
Chuck gave her a small smile. "Sounds like a plan. I'll grab a bottle of water for Bryce and we can get back in there."
When they stepped into the room, Bryce was right where they had left him. Chuck placed a bottle of water down in front of him, then gestured to Sarah. "Agent Walker will be joining us for this next round of questioning. We're going to need some facts to support what you've already told me, Agent Larkin."
He wanted to show Bryce that he was still part of the CIA. That they were working together to clear his name and that these questions were just a formality. He wasn't sure if Bryce understood that, but the other man simply nodded.
"Let's start with the Fulcrum agent who approached you in Toronto," Sarah said. "What was his name?"
Bryce eyed Sarah, but then just shrugged his shoulders. "Jerry Johnson."
The sensation of an approaching flash never changed. Chuck could feel the tingle run up his spine while his eyes lost focus and then slipped shut.
An oak tree-an old Tom & Jerry cartoon-a personnel file-a photo of a thickset, prematurely-greying man-the words "adequate" and "acceptable" leaping out from a performance evaluation-a wedding photo-an oak tree
"Jeremy Bryan Johnson," Chuck said, rattling off the details. "Ten years in the CIA, good but not distinguished service, married to Amy Johnson of Iowa City, Iowa."
His words hung in the air for a moment; Sarah wrote down what he had just said while Bryce gaped. Finally, Bryce found his voice. "What was-wait, that's how the Intersect works?"
"Yeah," Chuck said, looking at Bryce. "It's cued by auditory or visual triggers."
"It's that fast?" Bryce said, leaning forward.
"If there's information available, yeah." Chuck eyed Bryce, a bit surprised at this sign of life. But then, there weren't many people who got to see the Intersect in action. It was understandable that Bryce, who used to be as much of a nerd as Chuck, would be curious about it.
Sarah tapped her pen against the table. "So Agent Johnson approached you while you were both performing surveillance. Who was under surveillance?"
Bryce leaned back and started speaking. And Chuck felt another flash waiting for him.
XXX
After several hours of questioning and a lot more flashes, Chuck felt wrung out. But unfortunately, they still had to report to Director Graham. He splashed some cold water on his face and wolfed down a slice of pizza from the order they had called in an hour ago. Then he joined Sarah in front of the video screen. Bryce sat off to the side, out of view until they were ready to reveal his presence.
"You okay there, Chuck?" Bryce asked quietly.
He could see Sarah looking at him as he rubbed his temples. "Yeah, I'm okay." He stood up straight as Langston Graham, Deputy Director of the CIA, appeared on the video screen.
Without any regard for small talk, Graham said, "Report."
"Yes, sir," Sarah said briskly. "We investigated the office building in Tarzana but it was deserted and stripped clean. No evidence of Fulcrum's activities."
Graham frowned. "Another lead that didn't yield anything. Agents, I'm becoming concerned."
"We understand, sir, but we do have something positive to report," Chuck said. "Initial contact was made with Agent Larkin last week, and he is now in Los Angeles."
"He is?" Graham said, his deep voice gruff.
Chuck looked over at Bryce, who slowly rose from his chair and joined Chuck and Sarah in front of the video monitor. "Director Graham," Bryce said, his hands clasped behind his back.
"Agent Larkin." Graham sounded almost pleased at the sight of Bryce. "I expect you have much to tell us."
"I do, sir," Bryce said without elaborating further.
"Agent Bartowski and I have already questioned Agent Larkin and found his answers satisfactory. Of course, our report and the recordings of our conversation will be transmitted to you first thing tomorrow morning for your review," Sarah said smoothly.
"Hmmm," Graham muttered. "Agent Larkin, what motivated you to come out of hiding?"
"It was thanks to Agent Bartowski's olive branch," Bryce said, surprising Chuck. "Having an . . . an old friend approach me made me realize that it was time to find out what the CIA thought of my recent actions. What the Agency would do to me."
"And what is your expectation of what that might be, Larkin?"
Bryce shrugged. "Reinstatement and an assignment that's more interesting than spending a year in the Falklands. I have a lot of information about Fulcrum and I'm more than willing to use what I know to take them out."
"Agent Larkin has already been very forthcoming," Sarah commented.
"I'm eager to see just how open he has been," Graham said dryly. "Agent Larkin, I would like to speak to the other agents. Would you please withdraw?"
Without a word, Bryce turned and walked back towards the break room. Chuck resisted the urge to yell after him to not eat the rest of the pizza, although it was hard not to. One slice wasn't enough to ease the hunger that a lot of flashing caused.
Once Bryce was out of sight, Graham leaned back in his chair. "Do you think Agent Larkin's intelligence is actionable?"
Chuck looked at Sarah for a long moment, before turning back to face the deputy director. "We believe so, yes. He might be just what the Agency needs to truly eliminate Fulcrum."
"Then it stands to reason he should be working with you."
The simple suggestion nearly made Chuck's mouth drop open. "Excuse me, sir?"
"Adding Agent Larkin's first-hand knowledge to your work to undermine Fulcrum, plus the Intersect, seems like the right combination to me," Director Graham said. "Pending my review of your report, he will be reinstated and assigned to your team." He paused. "Although we will keep this quiet. It may be more effective if Agent Larkin is still considered a rogue agent."
That made sense, Chuck had to admit. Although . . . "His name will be cleared once Fulcrum is gone, though?"
Graham nodded. "Yes."
"For Agent Larkin's peace of mind, perhaps a 77C could be included in his file?" Sarah asked.
After all the flashes during the afternoon and evening, Chuck couldn't help a small grimace as another flash hit him. A 77C was a classified appendix to a spy's personnel file, one that indicated the agent had engaged in rogue or covert operations that might appear treasonous, but were in fact authorized by the CIA.
"I will take that under advisement, Agent Walker. Please inform Agent Larkin of this decision and bring him up to speed."
"Yes, sir," Chuck said, eager to end this briefing so he could collapse.
The director nodded and and the video screen went black, indicating that Graham had cut the video link. Chuck immediately sank down into a chair.
"Sorry, Chuck," Sarah said, reaching out to rub his temples. "I didn't realize you'd flash on the 77C."
"It's not in the CIA personnel rules, so I never came across it before," Chuck said, keeping his eyes closed.
"It's pretty obscure," she admitted. He felt Sarah sit on his knee as she continued stroking his temples, something they had discovered helped with flash-induced migraines.
"What do you think about Graham's idea?" she asked him softly. "Having Bryce work with us?"
"I think it's a good one," Chuck said, opening his eyes enough to see her. "He's got a lot of information on Fulcrum. A lot of contacts. Since I don't have the Fulcrum Intersect anymore, we're only as good as the intel we have. And what we've been getting before now hasn't been that good."
Sarah nodded. "I agree. I'm just worried."
"About what?" Chuck asked, squinting a little.
"You and Bryce," she said matter-of-factly. "Can you work together in spite of your history?"
"Well, Bryce doesn't want to talk about it, so what can I do?"
Her lips twisted. "Chuck, you're not going to take that lying down. You're going to push Bryce to open up."
Chuck considered her words. It was true: he had a hard time accepting Bryce's position. Why shouldn't they try and repair their friendship? Working with an old friend and his fiancée would be great, but only if Bryce was willing to be his friend again. And if Bryce wasn't interested in that, what would he do?
"What if I pushed in a nice way?" he said, giving Sarah a weak smile.
She gave him a look and Chuck sighed. "I know, I know. And you're right-I do want Bryce to talk to me. If only to smooth things over so we can work together," he said, cutting off the objection Sarah was about to make. "Because I can't handle working with someone who's all about the job."
"Then how'd you fall for me?" she said, grinning at him as she leaned in to kiss him lightly.
He was very grateful that her kiss prevented him from putting his foot in his mouth by replying. Because there was no way he could answer her without saying the wrong thing.
"I guess congratulations are in order?"
Bryce's voice made Sarah break the kiss and pull away a little. But she kept sitting on his knee. Chuck turned to look at Bryce, who was standing in the doorway, leaning against the door jamb with his arms folded over his chest. There was a small smirk on his face. "When's the wedding?"
"We haven't gotten that far in the planning-we've only been engaged a month," Sarah said lightly. "And thank you, Bryce."
"I thought you wanted to keep things professional?" Chuck asked, looking over at Bryce.
From the way his old friend stiffened slightly before straightening up, the smirk vanishing from his face, Chuck realized that he had just blown a chance to be friends with Bryce again. He felt like kicking himself.
"What did Graham have to say?" Bryce asked, his voice clipped.
Sarah stood up and Chuck followed her lead. "He wants you to work with Sarah and me," he said. "In a kind of undercover capacity, so that your Fulcrum contacts won't know that you're back in the fold."
Bryce huffed. "Of course. So at the end, the CIA can just toss me aside."
"Chuck raised that concern," Sarah said, eyeing Bryce. "Graham will put a 77C in your file. So once Fulcrum is done for, your name will be officially cleared."
"Is that so?" Bryce asked, looking at Chuck.
He nodded. "Yeah. Like I said, it's about trust."
For some reason, those simple words seemed to knock Bryce speechless. His eyes widened and he actually took a step back, before he recovered himself and slid his hands into his pockets. "Okay, then."
"Do you have somewhere to stay?" Chuck asked. "There's a bed back in one of the holding cells. It sucks, but it'll give you someplace to sleep until you can find a place."
"No, I've got a room for a few nights," Bryce said, still sounding a bit dazed.
Sarah rested her hand on Chuck's shoulder. "It's pretty late. How about we all call it a night?"
"Sounds good," Chuck said, eyeing Bryce. "I'm gonna grab a slice for the road." He turned and kissed Sarah's cheek quickly. After all, the cat was out of the bag, and it wasn't like it was the first time Bryce saw him kiss a girl. Why not act normally with Sarah while Bryce was around?
"Okay," Sarah said. "I'll meet you at home." She looked at Bryce. "Need a lift anywhere?"
"No, I'm good," Bryce said shortly. "See you tomorrow." And with that, he walked down out of the conference room, presumably heading towards the exit.
Chuck waited until the door had closed behind Bryce before looking at Sarah. "I've got a bad feeling about this."
"I don't see why," Sarah said practically, completely missing the Star Wars reference. "It could have been a lot worse."
Looking back down the empty hallway, Chuck sighed a little. "Yeah . . . but it could have been a lot better, too."
End, Chapter 2
