And… we're back. Part 2 of Part 3, otherwise known as Part 4. I wrote this at the same time as the previous chapter, but, together, they're just too long, so they have been split up. This one may not be as long as the previous one. I just had to find a convenient place to stop with enough cliff-hangerishness for you to want to continue reading. Did it work? Hopefully.

Anyway, enough of this boring stuff. Back to the action!

(Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck. I'm so, so alone.)

Sarah slammed through the door and entered another hallway. Dmitri was out of sight, but she could hear his heavy footsteps coming from her right. She ran to the end of the corridor and pushed through another door, entering the main room again.

She heard Chuck's strangled cry of pain echo through the warehouse and called out, "Let him go, Andreyev! He has nothing to do with this!"

Dmitri laughed. "He has nothing to do with this? Please, do not lie to me, Agent Walker. You would not be here if he was not important." Sarah gritted her teeth. The irony was not lost on her. Chuck was in danger because she and Casey were always there to protect him from things like this happening. It only made her more angry.

"You see," Dmitri continued. "We need some information. Charles here can give us this information, I am sure of it. If he would only tell me who the Intersect is, then this whole nightmare could be over, and you two can return to your 'normal' lives." Chuck grunted in pain. Dmitri continued talking. "Charles, please, I don't want to do this. I leave these things to Iosif for a reason." Sarah tried to filter out the little noises of pain Chuck was making and crept forward stealthily. Dmitri and Chuck were in the maze of boxes and machines. Unless Dmitri knew exactly where he was going, Sarah had a chance to find them before they got out.

"You CIA fools," Dmitri continued contemptuously. "Always too proud for your own good. Did you think that we didn't know about your influence here? You can't hide for two years in such a small city as Burbank-" he spat the word like even saying it left a bad taste in his mouth,"-without giving away something. As soon as our men lost the trail of that MI6 agent, Barker, we knew something was wrong. We stayed back, and it turned out that he had the help of the American government. The CIA and the NSA working together. With the MI6 as well! I never thought I would live to see the day." Dmitri laughed. "After that, your presence was obvious. It was a miracle we hadn't noticed you before."

Sarah bit her tongue and advanced into the maze. She tried to remember the directions she had given Casey earlier to get through the maze, when he had tried to catch up to her, but her brain was in a panic, and she was having trouble recalling any specifics. Dmitri's carefully calculated words didn't help either. Sarah tried to ignore them, but she couldn't help being worried. If he knows we're here, who else does too? She didn't have time to think too much about this. She would just have to wait until she could get into contact with the General again. There were more important things at stake right now. She sidled up to a corner and swung around it, her gun pointed at the far end, but no one was there.

"Oh, no," Dmitri chided softly. "There is no fainting to get out of this one, Chuck." There was a thump and Chuck cried out again. Dmitri hushed him. "We wouldn't want your little friend to find you prematurely. I might decide that you aren't worth the trouble."

A muffled shot rang out and echoed in the large room. A door opened violently. "Andreyev!" Sarah heard Casey roar. She could tell his words were a bit slurred, but he seemed fine. "Come out, you coward! Bartowski is useless, he has nothing to do with this!"

"Oh! Listen to that, Charles! It seems like your other little friend has survived as well. But-" He seemed to realize what that indicated. "Iosif?"

"He's dead, Andreyev," Casey said flatly. Sarah wanted to yell at him to shut up, to stop trying to rile up the very dangerous man with a knife at Chuck's throat, but she didn't need Dmitri knowing where she was.

"He is- very well. I suppose, in his line of work, he wouldn't be able to live very long." Despite his words, Sarah heard the anger in his voice. "I will not make that mistake, however. Now, if you don't mind, I think it's time to leave."

"No! You get back here, you god damned son of a b-" The rest of Casey's insult was interrupted by a huge crash. Did he just- is he running through the walls? Sarah glanced to where the crashes were coming from in time to see Casey flying through a wall of boxes and slamming into her. A breath of air rushed out of her lungs and they hit the floor hard. Casey cursed at her. "What are you doing here, Walker? Why aren't you following Andreyev?" She clenched her jaw at Andreyev's condescending laughter.

"I was!" Sarah shoved him off of her and got to her feet, Casey close behind her. "We need to catch up to them without just crashing through the walls of the maze," Sarah said pointedly. "It's too loud. Come on." She gestured for him to follow her, and they took off in the direction they had last heard Chuck.

A loud creaking noise filled the air. Sarah felt Casey jump slightly behind her, but she refrained from commenting. "What was that?" she whispered.

"It sounded like a garage door or something," Casey said. "We are in a warehouse."

"But who would be-" Sarah suddenly realized something. "Reinforcements! They should be here by now, right?" Casey nodded slowly, realizing what she was saying, and said, "Right."

"CIA!" they heard a voice shout from the front of the building. "Drop your weapons!"

"What?" Dmitri said in confusion and surprise. He was much closer now than he had been before Casey busted through the wall of boxes, but his voice echoed so much that it was difficult to tell where it came from. "You actually brought- damn it!" Dmitri cursed in Russian. "Chuck, I'm afraid you will have to come with me. I was planning on letting you go, or possibly shooting you, but now, I cannot do that." He grunted, like he was trying to pick Chuck up or drag him along the ground. Chuck had a good few inches on him, however, so that couldn't be easy for him. "Come on, we have to go. Pick up your goddamn feet!" Dmitri was beginning to sound more exasperated. He lowered his voice further and hissed, "If you will not walk, you force me to shoot you in the head. I do not think-" he grunted in the middle of his sentence. "-that you want me to do that?" Almost immediately, the rustling sounds stopped, and were replaced with loud footsteps.

Casey's head whipped toward the sound of the footsteps. They echoed less and were easier to locate. "Got him," he muttered.

"Stop that!" Dmitri hissed loudly. There was another stifled grunt, and the footsteps quieted.

"Casey," Sarah whispered. "He's really close. He can't be more than a few feet away."

"Yeah, I realized," Casey replied sarcastically. "Can I go through the wall now?"

"No! He still has Chuck."

"Fine," he said, almost sulkily, like a kid being told he couldn't shoot Daddy's gun. The CIA agents had moved farther into the warehouse and called for Dmitri to give himself up again, but there was no response, not even to taunt them.

Sarah crept to the next turn and checked the next corridor, but she still couldn't see them. Behind her, Casey muttered at her to hurry up. She hissed back at him to be patient, then moved forward. "Don't worry, Chuck," she said to herself, although she knew that it was useless. "I'm coming, just stay alive." She didn't know why she said that. It would do nothing to reassure him, but she muttered it anyway, almost like he was right in front of her and she was just giving him a few tips. But Chuck would need a bit more than a few tips to get out of this.

As she said that, Dmitri shouted in surprise. There was a scuffle and a cry of pain, followed by a loud thump that caused the wall to Sarah's right to shake and almost topple over. Sarah sprinted around the corner and spun to see Chuck wrestling with Dmitri. He had somehow gotten his hands around in front of him and pushed the armed man away from him. He stood with his arms held defensively in front of him, two uneven lengths of rope dangling from his wrists. Dmitri now had blood streaming down his face from a cut on his forehead. The skin around his eye was darkening, suggesting that something had just whacked him in the face. He still held his knife, which was dripping with fresh blood.

As Sarah and Casey cried out and began to run toward them, Dmitri slashed his knife at Chuck. He raised his arms and the blade cut across his forearms. Chuck shouted in pain and stumbled back, and the Russian stepped forward to take advantage of his momentary confusion.

"No!" Sarah and Casey simultaneously shouted. They each raised their weapons and pulled the trigger repeatedly, each shooting him two or three times to kill. Then Casey shot a few more times, just to make sure that he was going to die. When he didn't immediately fall over, Sarah pulled the trigger a few more times until her gun clicked empty. Dmitri jerked backward as each bullet struck him. Red bloomed on his shirt in over a dozen places where the agents had hit their target. He turned his wide eyes on Sarah and Casey as they approached warily. His mouth opened, like he wanted to say something, but it closed again with a loud click and he fell limply to the ground.

Chuck watched the Russian mafia member die in front of him, blood gurgling out of his mouth, and he fell to his knees. His jaw fell open loosely as the man's life drained away, and his eyes were stuck on the body.

"Chuck!" Sarah called. She slid to her knees in front of him and dropped her gun. She grabbed his face and turned it to hers, trying to get him to focus. "Chuck! Look at me. I need you to look at me and stay calm." His brown eyes were still glassy with pain and now were full of shock as well as terror. His chest barely moved with his shallow, heaving breaths.

"Bartowski!" Casey barked. "Wake up!"

Chuck jerked, and Sarah whipped her head around to glare at him. "Quiet, Casey! You aren't helping." She turned back to Chuck, who was slumping forward toward her. She pushed him back a little and wiped blood from his cheek. Or, she tried to. There was so much that it didn't come off as much as smear around. The CIA agents had heard the gunshots and were calling for them. Casey responded and talked them through the maze, but Sarah concentrated on Chuck.

"Hey," she said softly. "Hey, it's okay, it's alright, you're safe." He looked down at his chest, as if he was just noticing all the knife wounds. He raised one hand to touch one, but it stopped halfway there and fell on Sarah's leg, leaving a morbid red handprint on her white pants. She hated seeing him like this. He looked defeated and completely broken, but she couldn't believe that. She wouldn't.

"Chuck," Sarah said soothingly. "You're in shock. I need you to respond to me, okay? Talk to me. What's your name?" Chuck didn't respond. "What's your sister's name?" He still didn't move. "Come on, Chuck. I need you to talk to me. What's my name? Do you remember me?" A note of desperation was creeping into her voice. His hand was still on her leg, and more blood streamed down his forearm and dripped steadily onto her knee.

"They're almost here," Casey said. "Just hold on, Bartowski. You'll be fine." There was a barely noticeable hint of doubt in his voice that he tried to keep under control. Sarah glanced at him worriedly, but Casey responded in his normal curt way. "Don't worry, Walker. He'll live." She guessed he was trying to be comforting, but it really wasn't his forte. She still knew that such an enormous amount of blood loss could be fatal as well as her partner did.

"Oh." It was such a small noise that, if she were a normal person, she might not have noticed it. But Sarah was far from normal. She looked back at him in time to see Chuck finally lift his head. He raised a hand and felt his forehead, checked his hand for blood. When it came away sticky with the stuff, he gasped softly. "Oh," he repeated.

He looked up at her and seemed to come back to reality a little bit. "Sarah," he mumbled.

"Yeah," Sarah said. She blinked back a stray tear. "Yeah, that's me. Do you remember me, Chuck? Do you remember what happened?"

"Sarah," he said one more time, then his head fell forward and hit her chest.

"Chuck!" she cried out. She cradled his head with both arms and tried to ignore the warm sensation of blood soaking into her shirt. "Casey, we need to get him to a hospital right now."

"I know," Casey said. "They should be he-"

He was interrupted by men rounding the corner. One knelt by Sarah and told her to let go of Chuck. She fought to keep her hold on him, but two men grabbed her arms and pulled her back. They shoved her into Casey, who wrapped his arms around her and held her back. She talked at them for a while, trying to tell them exactly how to do their job, as they laid Chuck out on the floor. They wheeled in a stretcher as a medic checked him over, but his back was to Sarah and she couldn't understand anything he said.

"Walker," Casey said sternly. "Calm down. They're trying to help him. Let them help him, unless you want Bartowski to die." Sarah stopped fighting him, but her eyes were still full with tears. They hadn't fallen yet, but this was as close as she ever got to crying. Casey knew that, but he wasn't sure what to do exactly.

Thankfully, he didn't have to do anything. She started to pull herself together and straightened her orange (and now partly red) tank top as a man addressed them. "Agents Casey and Walker, I presume? Where is the nearest hospital? The Intersect needs serious attention immediately."

Sarah pushed herself away from Casey. "Westside Medical. I'll take you there." Her jaw had clenched at the man's casual use of "The Intersect", as if Chuck wasn't a human being, just some computer asset, but she resisted the temptation to deck him right there and then.

Casey snorted. "What, and just leave me here?"

"Obviously, you're coming too. I'm just driving." Sarah began walking briskly toward his car.

Surprisingly, Casey didn't argue. "Fine. But if you crash my Crown Victoria-"

"I won't crash, Casey," she said over her shoulder. "Come on, we need to get going. We have at least a half an hour to go, even speeding the whole way." Thankfully, her voice didn't tremble as she tried to regain control of her emotions.

"Alright, let's go."

As they reached Casey's car, the agents loaded Chuck onto a stretcher and put him in the back of one of their SUV's. That had better be a secret ambulance or something, Sarah thought. She started the engine and pulled out ahead of them onto the road that led to Burbank. She kept the speedometer constantly over eighty miles per hour the entire time, her grip tight on the wheel, her knuckles white. Halfway through the ride, her eyes widened and she cursed. "Damn it. Casey, how are we going to explain this to Ellie and the rest?"

Casey paused. "You can figure that out when we get there. One mission at a time, Walker."

Oh. Well, this one turned out a bit shorter than I had intended. It was the other half of my earlier chapter. But it wasn't that bad, right? Sorry about all the excess language in this one. I just figured that Sarah and Casey would be rather stressed at this point in time, so it made sense. I don't say any of that stuff myself, but in order to make a good character (or write about one already created), they have to stay in character. Sometimes, language is required.

Well, language is always required, I know. You have to write it in English or whatever language to understand or even read it. Haha. You're so funny. You know what I mean.

And if you give me tips in your reviews on how I can make my story better or easier to understand, don't think I get mad at you for being "nitpicky", as you put it. If I respond to any criticism in particular, that's because I want you to understand why I did what I did. I hope I didn't come across as angry, because I most definitely was not. I appreciate anything that can make my writing better, even if it's more negative. Either way, the amount of positive reviews I've gotten is astounding. I hope you all realize how grateful I am for you guys. What am I at now, 20? Something like that. For my first story, this is way more than I anticipated, and I'm crazy thankful.

(Also, if you remember, certain doctors work at Westside Medical. That will be fun, huh?)

Thanks for reading, and I hope to hear from you soon.