CHUCK VERSUS THE TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE,
NO GOOD, REALLY BAD DAY
Chapter 4
by Poa and Truthseekr
The X-Files
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! Chuck's knuckles rapped against the door to the hotel room across the hall. The shorter, debonair lothario answered, this time wearing more than a towel.
"Good to see you're dressed, because as much as I hate saying this..." Chuck started, while making his way into the room.
"You like seeing him in a towel?" Casey said, just under his breath, but loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. He sat on the couch cleaning his gun.
Chuck turned to Casey with a look of disgust, "Noooo." He turned back to Agent Barker and sighed, "Sarah needs you."
Casey turned with newfound interest.
"Ah! Very good." Cole remarked.
"Don't forget your gun," Chuck told him.
"I always carry a gun," the Brit responded. Casey snarled to himself; he couldn't believe that the pretty boy had taken his line.
Cole exited the room and Casey went back to cleaning his Desert Eagle. Chuck looked over at him on the couch and considered what to say for a moment. He knew he needed to tell Casey about Jill but he just didn't know how that conversation would end without the Colonel inflicting bodily damage on some non-essential body part. Chuck plopped himself down in the chair across from Casey by the window. Instead of looking outside, however, Chuck stared at the room's only décor: a large, framed picture featuring a pair of cardinals perched on the limb of an apple tree.
Casey looked up for a moment and noticed the uneasy look on Chuck's face as he stared at the print on the wall. He knew the nerd had something on his mind. Hell, he had a lot in his mind. Casey still couldn't understand how Chuck was able to perform back flips while fighting hordes of trained killers, how he could fire and disassemble pretty much any firearm on command, and God only knows what else. The geek had been through so much lately; he watched Larkin die, he re-Intersected himself, he found out that nearly every criminal he had helped put away was now on the loose, and he had even shot a man. Frankly, he was surprised that Chuck hadn't already broken down with his lady feelings into a sniveling pile of useless flesh.
"Alright, out with it Bartowski." Casey had had enough. He never realized how much he might actually prefer the babbling nerd to the Bartowski Silent Treatment.
"I saw Jill."
"What? Where?" Casey sat up and glared at him.
"I know, I know," Chuck said, looking down. "It doesn't matter where. What matters is that she had a message for me. She said that someone in the CIA helped those criminals escape. She claims that the CIA has a mole among us. If she's right, it could be Roan, Carina, Cole. . . anyone. She says that whoever it is... the plan is to capture me and allow full control of the Intersect to remain exclusively with the CIA."
"That doesn't make sense. Carina's with the DEA. Barker's, well, we know who Barker works for. Besides, the CIA is a full partner in this project. As D.N.I., Beckman heads both agencies. How do you know this isn't a ploy by Jill to capture or kill you?"
"Well, if that was her goal, I'd have already been captured or killed by now. She had the perfect opportunity while I was outside my apartment."
"That's why you were hanging out in the bushes? Thought you could get a little..."
"Casey!" Chuck cut him off.
The Colonel grinned; ribbing the nerd was just too easy, even after two years on this assignment. He dropped his smirk and said, "Listen Chuck, you need to be more careful. I know you think you can trust Roberts…"
"Casey, I don't trust Jill." He knew that Casey wasn't buying it. "Okay... not entirely."
Casey snickered and then nodded his head slightly, "But it still makes no sense... Unless she's just manipulating you." Casey picked up his chamois cloth and turned his attention back to his weapon.
"I've been thinking about that," said Chuck, leaning forward in the chair. "Let's assume, and yes, I know it's a pretty big assumption... but what if there are Ring agents working in the high-level ranks of the CIA? I mean we don't know anything about them, do we? We don't know their motivations, their hierarchy, or even what they like on their pizza."
"This isn't a joke Chuck." Casey's eyes stayed on his weapon.
"I know Casey, I was just checking to see if you were listening."
Casey grunted, so Chuck knew it was safe to continue. "For all we know, they could be using Fulcrum as a long-range weapon of sorts." Chuck stood up. As he looked outside, he reached up and drew a circle in the condensation of the window. "This isn't about the CIA wanting me; they already have me. This is about the Ring."
Casey put down his gun. "So we assume that the Ring has penetrated the highest ranks of the CIA?"
Chuck nodded.
"It's like they say, you can't trust an agency that has the word 'intelligence' in its title." He chuckled and then looked back at Chuck. "You're not going to tell Walker that one, are you?"
"You crazy? She'd probably put you and me through your new coffee table," Chuck joked.
"Yeah, good thing I remembered not to get a glass one this time," Casey said. "I spent half the night pulling glass shards out of my gluts."
"What's wrong? You gettin' soft, Casey?" Chuck half-kidded.
"No." He winced. "Let's just say my 'ass' knows better than to come between you and Walker again."
Chuck couldn't believe what he was hearing. Was the old Sugarbear telling him to 'go for it' with Sarah, and that if he did, he wasn't going to report them? Chuck couldn't help but smirk. But the smile on his face wasn't just about his bond with Sarah; it was about his relationship with Casey. He now knew that there was nothing that would ever come between him and Sarah and Casey.
"We're a team." Chuck smiled.
"Yeah, well , if we learned anything from Captain Miles, it's that any team can be infiltrated," the Colonel said dryly. "We really can't trust anyone."
"I trust my family—Ellie, Awesome, Morgan, Sarah, and... I trust you Casey. Without question."
Casey sat quietly, his gaze unfocused, taking in Chuck's statement. This revelation wasn't a small thing in light of their recent falling out.
"So what do we do?" Chuck asked, searching for some sort of response from the tough guy.
"I wish we could handle this ourselves—just the three of us. But the truth is, we need help rounding up all that Fulcrum scum."
"Are you sure, Casey? I mean, you and Sarah are, well... badass, and I have acquired some… new skills." Chuck tried hard not to sound as lame as Napoleon Dynamite when he said it, only he really was a nerd at heart.
Casey raised his eyebrows. "New skills, huh? Outside of weapons training and Kung Fu, we don't know what skills are hidden within that skull of yours. And you can't control which skills surface, or when."
Chuck knew Casey was right.
"No, we need the manpower. But, this shouldn't be too tough; I've never worked with anyone I actually trusted."
"So, trust no one."
"That's right Agent Scully," Casey responded, surprising the nerd.
"Wait, why do I always have to be the girl?"
"Speaking of the girl, you let Walker be alone with Agent Libido?" Casey quipped.
"Oh, he's not alone. He's probably got his hands full taking down Mr. Colt and his gang of thugs at the Buy More," Chuck half-kidded.
"Why didn't you say anything?" said Casey, rising quickly. He grabbed his gear and headed for the door. "Let's go."
"What? You don't want to miss any gun play?"
***
Sarah slid her Porsche to an abrupt stop behind the Orange Orange.
"Splendid," said Cole, getting out of the car. Sarah pulled her bulletproof vest out of the back and handed one to Cole.
"Why, I didn't think you cared, Agent Walker."
Sarah rolled her eyes as she strapped on the vest and put her sky blue Orange Orange fleece on over the top of it. "I've got enough to do without having to worry about you getting shot again."
Sarah surveyed the building with a pair of binoculars. "Try to see to it you don't get captured this time," she said with a smile.
"Oh don't worry dear. I'll be here to take a third bullet for you if it means the next stop is Fiji," the assured Brit remarked.
"You just don't give up do you?" Sarah questioned with a smirk. Suddenly, she saw movement, and she trained the binoculars on the roof of the Buy More. "We've got a problem," she said, handing the binoculars to Cole.
Through the lens, Agent Barker saw several people dressed in black standing on the roof with Heckler and Koch G36Cs; static ropes were being dropped over the edge of the building and a few of them started to rappel down.
"There's too many," Cole remarked, still looking through the binoculars.
Sarah turned on her earwig and opened a channel to Roan Montgomery, who was pulling his cover shift as the store's new Assistant Manager.
"Roan, you need to get out of there. Colt has brought a small army with him and they are descending upon the store right now. Retreat to Castle; we'll get reinforcements, and then launch a counter-attack."
"Very well," Roan replied through his earpiece. "Is there time to evacuate the store employees?"
"Negative, Roan. You need to move quickly. We have a plan and we'll go over it with you when you reach the Castle."
"On my way."
"We have a plan?" asked Cole, looking at her.
"We always have plan," she replied with a smile. She retrieved her iPhone from her pocket.
"Reinforcements? Surely you jest, darling. We can handle these bandits ourselves," said Cole. "The store hasn't opened yet; civilian casualties will be at an acceptable level."
Sarah and Cole watched as the first wave of Mr. Colt's assault landed on the walkway in front of the store; one of the men shot out the glass door and they ran inside. A second wave of baddies descended in similar fashion through the back loading docks, the audio installation bay, and even through the stairwells.
Sarah looked at Cole. "The employees are Chuck's friends; casualties are not acceptable."
"Not even one?" asked Cole. "We can't possibly avoid it." He shook his head.
"That's why I'm calling Casey." She tapped Casey's number into the phone.
***
"What's wrong?" Chuck asked, as he got in the passenger seat of the Crown Vic.
"That was Walker. Seems like Colt brought a few friends; a few more than they can handle."
Before putting his keys in the ignition, Casey placed two calls. With each call, he said the same three words, "Buy More… urgent."
"What are we waiting for?" Chuck was clearly at a loss as to why they were still sitting there.
"Backup Chuck. I put in a call to Agent Forrest, but could only leave a message. Carina is on her way, but it will take some time for her to get there. Too bad you didn't kill Banachek's thug." Casey started the engine and peeled out of the hotel parking lot.
"That's a terrible thing to say," Chuck remarked without thinking.
Casey rolled his eyes. Sometimes the nerd really got on his nerves. "We're not going to rush in there without the numbers."
"Look, Casey. We're talking about the Buy More, here. Big Mike, Jeff, Lester, Skip, and all our friends are in danger."
"Your friends," said Casey, narrowing his eyes.
Chuck threw up his hands. "Fine, Casey, my friends. The point is, I'm not going to sit by while Mr. Colt takes over the Buy More. We've handled him before; we can do it again."
Casey silently continued to drive the car, obeying all traffic signals and speed limits.
"C'mon Casey! You may have hated working there, but it was your store. Colt is on your turf." He took a deep breath. "What are we going to do about it?" Chuck asked, reaching over the passenger seat into the back of the car.
Suddenly, Casey put the pedal to the metal. Chuck was completely unprepared for the acceleration and he toppled over and into the back seat. He untangled himself and sat upright. "You would warn a guy, you know. After all, you might have damaged the Intersect."
Casey grunted while Chuck reached for the duffel bag at his feet. He unzipped it and removed two bulletproof vests.
"Remember to put it on underneath your shirt, Chuck." Casey instructed.
"Why?"
"Cause we don't want any of our friends at the Buy More to know that you're a government supercomputer do we?"
"Right! Great thinking Casey," Chuck said as he pulled off his shirt. He proceeded to strap on a vest and re-buttoned his shirt over it.
As they neared the last traffic signal before the Large Mart plaza, Casey noticeably decided to ignore the red light. He looked up in his rearview mirror and said to Chuck, "Hold on. We've got a store to reclaim."
"Let's do this!" said Chuck.
***
The sound of boots stepping over shattered glass resonated as Mr. Colt's minions moved to their designated positions around the Buy More. Colt turned away from the Nerd Herd Technical Support Desk for a moment to greet his lackeys. Roan took advantage of the moment to duck and crawl into the home theater room, trigger the hidden trapdoor, and escape through the tunnels beneath the store. The Nerd Herders and green shirts scattered throughout the store froze in their tracks, staring at Colt's assault team.
"Line 'em up!" said Colt. As the various store employees made their way to the center aisle, Colt scrunched his large eyebrows. It was as if the green shirts and nerds had performed this task many times before.
"Who's in charge here?" he asked, as he walked down the line.
The employees spoke as one. "Chuck!"
Skip cleared his throat looking to his left and right. "Um, guys he doesn't work here anymore."
"I'll ask again. Who's in charge?" Mr. Colt asked, as he turned and walked the other way.
This time, the green shirts said in unison, "Morgan!"
"Without Morgan, this place blows," huffed the shaggy-haired green shirt named Kirk. All the green shirts nodded in recognition.
"One more time and don't make me ask again," Mr. Colt bellowed.
Suddenly, the workers all took a united step back to reveal a cowering Emmett Milbarge, who was hiding behind them. The newly minted Store Manager looked back in disgust at his unfaithful employees, who had just sold him out. "Guess I can trust no one," he said.
"You. Come with me," said Colt, as one of his team hauled Emmett to his feet.
"But… but, I'm nobody," protested Emmett weakly as he was dragged toward the front of the store.
"Put the rest of them in the home theater room. Beauty, you know the rest of the drill." Beauty was a massive blonde woman with a fierce look and a long scar that trailed from the center of her forehead across the bridge of her nose and over her left cheek. She and the rest of Colt's minions herded Skip, Kirk, Fernando, and the remaining speechless employees into the theater room.
"Alright, take 'em off," Beauty instructed. The green shirts removed, well, their green shirts and khakis while the Nerd Herders handed over their grey ties, white button ups, and black pants. They stood huddled together in their skivvies as Colt's team of husky henchmen exchanged their black commando gear for the much smaller Buy More uniforms. With exception of the blonde Beauty (who was anything but), the rest of Colt's thugs went back out into the store. Beauty stayed behind to stand guard over the naked herd.
***
Big Mike had been savoring a raspberry danish in the break room when he heard the shattering glass in the store. As he stepped out into the hall, he noticed a group of 'green shirts' that moved more like the USC defensive line than the 90-pound weaklings that usually overpopulated the store's rank and file. Was this a joke? Had the Mighty Jocks finally taken over the store? The uniforms were ill-fitting on the strangers; arm muscles threatened to rip apart the seams and the khaki pants only came down to mid-calf on most of them. Due to Big Mike's massive girth, also extending beyond the tail of his green shirt, no one paid him any attention.
Then, he saw an impossibly huge man push Emmett up toward the front registers. These goons weren't Mighty Jocks; the Mighty Jocks only cared about one thing—Madden. He looked over at the wall of televisions to see a dark-haired man and a red-headed woman in black suits examining some sort of alien corpse. That ain't Madden, he thought. He needed time to think. He looked around and quickly ducked inside the tiny broom closet. I can't believe this sh…, he cursed silently as one of his feet fell into a bucket of cold mop water in the much-too-confined space. No, those guys weren't Mighty Jocks. They looked like bail bondsmen, washed out bouncers, or perhaps even the pimp posse. These men were definitely thugs for hire.
That's when it hit him, no, not the mop (although that did, in fact, hit him when he stepped in the bucket for a second time). No, he knew who was responsible. It was that little sniveling Ass Man Barclay from the Beverly Hills Buy More. He was finally attempting to exact his revenge. "That's just like a bunch of rich folks," he muttered. "Always gotta hire somebody to do their dirty work." He grabbed his cell phone from his pants pocket and carefully maneuvered his arm so as not to whack himself in the head a third time with the mop or to knock down the various chemical bottles scattered across the crooked shelving. He dialed and whispered into the phone.
"Morgan?" he began. "It's Big Mike."
He listened for a moment and then sighed loudly. "Yes, Morgan, I'll make it to your Hawaii party. Your mother has already insisted. Now listen up! The store is under attack!"
He listened again. "It's those chumps from the Beverly Hills store! I want you to stop by your mother's house and pick up my fiddle."
"Yes, that fiddle! Oh, and Morgan, why don't you bring your new Hibachi knife set?"
He paused as he listened to the kid try to back out. "Listen son, you've fallen on your sword too many times! Now is the time for redemption. Every man has a time in his life when he must rise up and become the hero he was born to be. Today is that day, Morgan. You do this and consider your marker to me paid."
He smiled. "I'll meet you at the delivery chute."
Big Mike waited five minutes and then peeked out of the closet. None of those Beverly Hills bums-for-hire were looking. The 300-lb man tiptoed as best he could with one wet shoe squishing noisily across the hall into a small anteroom and closed the door quietly behind him. There was a long conveyor belt protruding from a square opening in the wall. He settled in and waited for Morgan.
***
Meanwhile, Lester was curled up in the back of a 1977 Y-82 black and gold Pontiac Trans Am with a tell-tale winged eagle spread across the hood of the car. As usual, the little Indian, who excelled at nothing except his amazing work avoidance skills, was oblivious to the world around him as his iPod and headphones took him away to Africa, the Jeffster version, of course. He had stolen the remote control for the bank of televisions on the wall earlier that morning, and scored big when he came across an X-Files marathon. He was sick of Emmett's Animal Planet and romantic comedies. He would share his moment of triumph with Jeff later; he figured he'd better lay low for a while, just in case Emmett realized what had happened. He turned the volume up on his iPod and hummed along softly as he listened.
***
"Where is Charles Carmichael?"
"Who?"
"Chuck!" growled Colt, grabbing a fistful of Emmett's shirt and lifting him onto the register counter.
Emmett's mouth fell open. "Chuck? You mean Chuck Bartowski? You want Chuck?" He sputtered in a high-pitched voice. "Why, he's nothing but a traitor! The gum on my shoe! The mud in a pig sty!" He paused for breath and considered the question. "What do you want him for?"
"I'm gonna kill him." Colt pulled out his gun and pointed it at Emmett's head. "I won't ask you again."
Emmett's eyes narrowed with a devious look . "Wait, wait! If I give you Chuck, you'll let me go?"
Colt nodded his head slowly.
Emmett licked his lips and thought for a moment. "I need to make a call."
Colt nodded again and lowered his gun. Emmett pulled his phone out and punched some numbers.
"Hello, Chuck? This is Emmett. There's been an accident at the Buy More. You need to get over here right away!" There was a short pause. "Good." What a simpleton, Emmett thought. Finally, we will be free of the disease known as Bartowski.
Emmett grinned with a self-satisfied smile as he turned off his phone and set it down. "See?" he said, licking his lips again. "I told you I'd get him here. He'll be here in five."
Mr. Colt smiled and stepped back a little.
"You know," began the sniveling sell-out, "I have a very bad memory. You could let me go and I wouldn't be able to tell anyone anything. And Chuck's no friend of mine. I've been trying to rid this backwater branch of him for the better part of a year. So whatever's going on is between you and him is no business of mine."
Colt's sinister smile widened. Emmett closed his mouth and gulped very deliberately in response.
***
Outside the Buy More, Sarah and Cole moved toward the back loading docks, preparing to enter when their reinforcements arrived. They crouched down behind the cardboard recycling and trash bins.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" Cole asked, pointing to the approaching vehicle.
Only it wasn't really a vehicle, but a Schwinn 10-speed. Morgan pedaled his bike up to the wall of the building and used a key to open the padlocked delivery chute.
"That's Morgan! Chuck's best friend!" said Sarah, standing.
"Shh!" hissed Cole, pulling her back down and pointing at one of Colt's delinquents, who had stepped outside for a cigarette. Luckily, a Nerd Herder was parked between the thug and Morgan, so they couldn't see one another.
"Is that a… violin case?" Cole asked. "And what is that?"
Sarah shaded her eyes from the sun. "It looks like the Hibachi knife set Chuck and I picked out for his going away present," she said in a puzzled tone.
"What's he going to do? Sing for his supper?" asked Cole.
They watched as Morgan climbed into the square opening. A few minutes later, Colt's lackey finished his cigarette and went back inside.
"You know what they say, dear… what's good for the goose is…" Cole said, cocking his head slightly.
"Good for the gander," finished Sarah, nodding her head in agreement. They ran over to the chute and crawled inside, making their way into the storage cage and on to the employee breakroom.
Just as Cole was about to go out the breakroom door, he heard footsteps approaching. He turned and grabbed Sarah, pressing her against a wall in a passionate embrace. Sarah shoved him away.
"I've got a better idea," she whispered, pulling him over to the lockers. She released the secret panel and exposed the entryway into one of the Castle tunnels. They entered and pulled the door shut behind them. There was a monitor mounted just inside the tunnel, affording them a view of the breakroom.
"You should know by now that I'm not interested," said Sarah.
"Can't blame a man for trying," Cole said with a smile. He turned to watch the monitor.
Feeling hungry, Lester had made his way out from the audio installation bay and into the employee breakroom. He had planned to snag something from the vending machine, but when he arrived, he noticed a couple of raspberry danishes lying on the table. He looked around and wondered briefly why no one was taking a lunch break today. He shrugged his shoulders and grabbed a danish. One man's loss was definitely his gain. As he returned to the audio installation bay, he noticed that there were several new employees he didn't recognize, and that they were all staring at the front of the store. Emmett must've hired some new goons, he thought. All the better to lay low. He surely didn't want to have to train any of the new guys. He walked back to the audio install area and sank back down into the Trans Am. There was no way that Smokey was going to find this Bandit today.
***
As Colt's agents infiltrated the Buy More, Roan Montgomery had watched carefully as the store's employees were rounded up and stripped in the home theater room. He kept a sharp eye on the Castle monitors, hoping to find some opening to get them out safely. He wished that he could have instituted… what was it they called it? A Pineapple. But calling a mass evacuation of the store would've been too risky and the potential loss of life too great. Walker was right; they needed a coordinated attack. Ahh, Agent Walker, what a beauty! Still, he couldn't help but be thankful that Bartowski was nowhere nearby such that she would be distracted by their constant cavorting.
For his part, Roan was also a bit distracted. What he needed was a drink. Perhaps, he could swing by the employee restroom and secure a drink from Jeff's stash. Roan switched one of the side monitors to survey the restroom. Suddenly, he noticed a small movement that caught his attention. Roan zoomed in and peered closely at the monitor. The restroom camera was situated at floor level to maintain some small semblance of privacy. There. Someone's feet were moving in stall 2. Jeff's office! He thought for a moment and then snapped his fingers. Of course! He knew exactly what to do.
Roan walked over to the armory behind him. He noticed it came equipped with quite an assortment of handguns— everthing from Smith & Wesson 5906s, SIG-Sauer P229s, Smith & Wesson Model 29 with .44 Magnum cartridges, and various Berettas, Glocks, Norincos, and even Ithacas. He went down the line spouting off various weapon choices, not unlike he once did while borrowing a suit from Casey's closet. "Walker, Casey, Eastwood, Gandolfini, Gandolfini, Gandolfini, Gandolfini. . . ." Then, he found was he was looking for—a Walther PPK, upon which he remarked, "Hello, Montgomery." He picked up the gun and headed toward the back of the Castle. Before he accessed the back exit panel, he spoke into his lapel pin, calling Agent Walker. "Change of plan, I know how to get the store employees out..." He opened the door, and as his voice trailed off, one final thing could be heard, "By the way, do you know where we can find some gin?"
***
Casey's phone rang and he snagged it from his pocket. "Yeah?" He listened a moment. "Yeah." Another pause. "Yeah. Roger that." He broke the connection and redialed. "Agent Casey. Requesting assistance in front of…" He furrowed his brows for a moment, and then he smiled. "Underpants, Etc." He paused. "Roger that. Three Bs. Bedsheets, Booze, and Broads."
Chuck looked at Casey with astonishment. "What the heck was that all about?"
Casey turned toward Chuck with a smile. "Looks like we're throwing a toga party."
***
Even being sober, Roan Montgomery knew that he'd never find his way through the spider web of tunnels weaving beneath the Buy More. He stopped for a moment and heard running water. The employee restroom had to be nearby. His eyes followed a drainpipe that traveled vertically along the wall of the tunnel and then disappeared into the ceiling. He put his ear next to the pipe and made sure that nothing was currently flowing down it. When all was clear, he pulled a corkscrew from his inner jacket pocket, placed it against the PVC and began to turn the screw with a professional flair. Once he made it through the plastic, he pulled out the screw and pressed his lips close to the opening.
Meanwhile, 20 feet above Roan's head, Jeff Barnes was busy enjoying his best friend—beer. Jeff stood up from his easy chair, flipped the toilet lid open, and reached into the bowl. He pulled on a line; a few bottles of beer were attached like a mess of fish. He tore one off, replaced the line, closed the lid, and sat down in his chair. He twisted the cap off and took a long, long swallow.
A distant voice floated up into the stall. "Jeffery."
Jeff looked down at the floor drain between his feet. "Hello? Who is it?"
"It's Roan Montgomery."
"Oh. Why are you in my drain Roan Montgomery?"
"I need a favor."
"Anything for my wingman," said Jeff. "Christine was amazing."
Roan frowned a bit, perplexed. Didn't I wake up with Christine? He shook the thought from his head.
"Jeff, there's a beautiful girl in the home theater room and I thought of you right away. She'll play hard to get though."
"Don't worry, I will bite down hard!" Jeff shouted into the drain.
Roan's eyes widened and his lip curled in disgust until he thought for a moment, "Well if it works. . ." He chuckled as he returned to Castle. He screwed a silencer onto his Walther PPK and re-entered the tunnel system, stopping beneath the trapdoor to the home theater room. It was all up to Jeff and his teeth now.
Jeff emerged from the restroom and entered the main floor. Several of Colt's agents aimed their guns at him. He held up his hands just outside the home theater room.
"Is this a raid?" he asked, stumbling forward slightly. He held a 40-ounce beer bottle in his hand. "You're too late! I already drank the evidence!" He giggled and then a loud belch erupted from his throat. He smacked his lips and looked about expectantly. "Do I have time to get my drinking pants?"
"You want me to pop him, Mr. Colt?" asked one of his men.
"Just put him with the others," said Colt. "Bartowski should be here any time now. And that guy can be pretty… imposing. So stay alert."
The thug pushed Jeff into the theater room.
Jeff's eyes widened and he smiled broadly. "All right! Let's party!" He suddenly realized that everyone was in their underwear. "Oh, my bad," he said, promptly removing his shoes, shirt, and pants in a matter of seconds. He looked at Colt's beauty standing in the corner nearest the theater room door. He popped his knuckles and rolled his shoulders a few times. "I'll take a crack at the blonde!" he said, rushing up to her and planting a sloppy kiss on her face until he stumbled to his knees. For any amateur stalker, this would have been a stopping point, but not for a seasoned professional like Jeff. No, he was just getting warmed up.
"Get off, you cretin!" she protested, trying to push him away and draw her gun. He had his arms wound around hers in an embrace, and she couldn't quite get at her weapon.
Suddenly, Roan appeared from behind. He gently whispered in her ear, "Is this man bothering you?" He blew in her ear slightly and continued, "Would you like for me to take care of that little disturbance that he made down there?" Beauty's hand went a bit slack on her weapon and with one move Roan disarmed her and pressed his gun against her side discreetly. He gave a self-satisfied smile and thought, 'I've still got it.'
"Oh Jeffery. I found a street party going on one block over outside Underpants, Etc. Climb down the hatch and follow the lit tunnel to the seventh manhole cover and then climb up. Oh, and take all your friends with you—since you are all appropriately dressed. Everyone's invited."
Jeff turned and saw the open hatch. Skip was already helping to lower the others down.
"So that's what all of this was about. . . it was a chance to have a panty raid during the day?" The sloshed drunk asked. "You know, if you don't watch it you'll end up being the best Ass Man the Buy More has ever seen; even better than Chuck."
Roan smiled, all the while maintaining a firm grip on Beauty. "Thank you, Jeffrey."
"What about you, Mr. Montgomery? Are you coming?" asked Jeff.
"I'll be along in a bit. This beauty and I have some unfinished business, if you know what I mean." Roan responded suggestively.
"You know I do," the drunk responded as he stumbled over to the hatch. "See ya later!"
Roan sighed with relief as the last Buy More employee escaped into the tunnel.
Beauty shoved hard against him, temporarily freeing her gun hand. But just as she turned and set out to draw her gun, he showed her the real definition of 'unfinished business.' Roan raised his Walther PKK and shot her once in the chest, causing her to immediately slump to the floor. He dragged her body over to the hatch and dropped it down.
Speaking into the Pineapple pin on his lapel, he stated, "Agent Walker, the home theater room is secure. The Buy More employees are safe, with the exception of Emmett Milbarge." He listened through his earwig for further instructions. "Very good."
Roan pulled back the curtain just enough to get a view of the main floor. He gasped softly as he saw Lester emerge from the audio installation bay with headphones on, oblivious to Mr. Colt and his syndicate. A black Ford Shelby GT 500 KR Mustang with tinted windows had just pulled up to the front of the store, and all eyes were on it as Lester walked back to the employee restroom.
Lester was parched from the danish and he knew just the thing—he'd grab a cold one from Jeff's fridge. He stepped quietly so as not to attract the attention of Emmett's new goons, who were still staring at the front of the store. Must be some kind of orientation, he thought, entering the restroom. He snagged a Chocolate Yoo-hoo from Jeff's 'cooler'. As he returned to the audio installation bay, he stopped for a moment and took a long drink from his bottle of Yoo-hoo. He cocked his head slightly and craned his neck to see over the aisles. He could make out Emmett sitting on one of the register counters, and he ducked down again. Yep, some kind of orientation. He hurried back to the audio installation bay and got back into the Trans Am. Perfect, he thought. With all the fuss over the new hires, he could probably get away with not working at all today.
***
Casey and Chuck ran through the Orange Orange and down into the Castle. They grabbed a few guns from the armory and headed straight out the back toward the tunnels and eventually made their way to the hatch to the home theater room in the Buy More. Chuck saw a body lying across the tunnel floor and skidded to a complete stop. Casey didn't notice and crashed into his back, cursing all the while under his breath. He saw the body then—obviously a woman with blonde hair. He gripped Chuck's shoulder as he stepped past him and approached the body slowly, trying to make out details in the dim light. He leaned over her face and let his breath out in a loud whoosh.
"It's okay, Chuck, it must've been one of Colt's people."
Chuck also let out a trapped breath, and he nodded his head, unable to take his eyes from the body. Casey moved it off to one side and climbed up the ladder beneath the hatch. "Chuck," he said.
Chuck finally moved toward the hatch, and he looked up at Casey.
"Trust no one."
"Will do, Agent Mulder," replied Chuck. "Wait, that makes me the girl again," he said, hitting his head on the rung in front of him while climbing up the ladder behind Casey.
Casey looked down at him sharply, and Chuck gave him a small nod. Satisfied, Casey pushed the hatch open and was greeted by Roan. Chuck followed. The three men barely had a moment together before the theater room door burst open. Big Mike and Morgan rushed in and shut the door. Roan and Casey quickly stashed the guns they had drawn. The two groups of men looked at each other with astonishment.
"Chuck!" said Big Mike, holding his fiddle case. "I never would have thought… it means so much that you and Casey have come to help defend the Buy More from those Beverly Hills bastards." He turned to Morgan. "Did you call for the reinforcements?"
Chuck spoke before Morgan could answer. "Actually, Casey and I were just stopping by to pick up our final paychecks when we realized something was wrong." He gestured toward Roan. "Your new Assistant Manager, Mr. Montgomery, filled us in and we wanted do what we could to help."
"That's great, Chuck," said Morgan. "Only there's an awful lot of Mitt-sized Mighty-Jock-like muscle walking around out there, dude." He threw up his hands. "And I must have dropped my knife set on the way in."
"Don't worry buddy; I'm sure we'll find 'em." Chuck gave him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder.
"What we need is a plan," said Roan.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" the little bearded man asked Chuck.
Chuck snapped his fingers. "That's right! Call of Duty! We can use the same plan of attack we used on the Large Mart goons last year." He paused. "If we can remember it."
"Are you kidding? Check this out!" Morgan ran over to the couch and reached beneath it. Taped to the underside was a large schematic . He pulled it out and everyone gathered around it. "I almost forgot this was still under here; it's the strategy plan from last year. I was going to modify it for this year's war."
Casey peered over Chuck's shoulder. "That looks like the Buy More layout."
"It's actually the Compound level layout from Call of Duty, but you didn't really want to know that, did you?" Chuck's voice trailed off. "Still, we can easily adapt it to the store. That mountain in the center is the Nerd Herd desk."
They devised a strategy and Casey made certain that Big Mike and Morgan were delegated to the least dangerous areas, not that they were any the wiser. Big Mike would carry his bat and make his way to the audio installation bay, where he would stay in case one of the 'Beverly Hills thugs' tried to nab Lester. Morgan would defend the home theater room. While Big Mike and Morgan were preparing to deploy, Roan gave an earwig to Casey and one to Chuck; they were now in communication with Sarah and Cole, who were apprised of the situation by Roan. The plan was fairly simple. Sarah and Cole would start at the rear of the store and, having already cleared the cage and storage areas, they would check the employee break room and then make their way forward, taking down any of Colt's men as they advanced. Roan would neutralize any threats surrounding Mr. Colt, while Casey dealt with Mr. Colt himself. Chuck would stay low, head to the cash registers, and try to free Emmett, who sat only mere feet from the store entrance. He would do what he could to get Emmett out of harm's way.
Colt and his people were still watching the dark car that had pulled up to the front of the building. It just sat there, the engine idling. Suddenly, there was a commotion near the back of the store; Big Mike ran out of the theater room at full speed. A surprised baddie stood in front of him, momentarily paralyzed at the sight of the large man bearing down on him like a locomotive. Big Mike swung his bat and it connected with the man's head, knocking him out cold. Big Mike kept running; he slammed into the side of the sound booth leading to the audio install bay and ripped open the door, disappearing inside and pulling the door shut behind him.
Sarah and Cole split up and then began to fire their guns, working their way up opposite sides of the store. Casey and Roan ducked low and ran up the DVD aisle to the register area. Chuck followed behind them, using display stands for cover.
Agent Barker found himself surrounded in the home appliance section by three of Colt's thugs, who were shooting at him. He took cover behind a wide freezer chest and returned fire. Casey, hearing the gunfire, diverted over to that section, and Chuck followed him.
"Need a hand?" yelled Casey. He and Chuck crouched low behind one of the BeastMaster displays.
"Not at all," said Cole. He rolled out from behind the freezer and fired low at the man using a refrigerator door for cover. The man yelped as bullets cut through his combat boots. He fell over and Cole shot him in the head. Cole then whipped around and shot three more bullets into the chest of a woman who had charged up behind him. She also dropped to the floor. The last thug rushed at Cole, firing his gun. Cole sidestepped the attack and pushed the man against the freezer, and then he slammed the freezer lid on the man's head twice, knocking him senseless. Cole grabbed the man's legs and up-ended him into the freezer, closing the lid down with a bang. He smiled and dusted off his hands before running down the aisle past Casey and Chuck.
"Is there anything that guy can't do?" wondered Chuck aloud, as he moved down the aisle.
Casey scoffed. "That was my move," he grumbled to himself, following Chuck.
As Sarah passed the theater room, one of Colt's men managed to knock her to the ground and her gun flew from her hand. She stood and prepared for hand-to-hand combat, until she noticed a familiar case lying on the floor; it had cracked open and the handle of a knife stuck out. The man raised his gun.
Just before Colt's man fired the gun, Sarah dropped to the ground and rolled, snatching the knife as the bullet sailed harmlessly over her head. She threw it at her attacker, hitting him in the chest. He fell to the floor. She spotted her gun, grabbed it, and continued moving forward.
Cole and Sarah reached the front of the store simultaneously; Cole came up the west wall, and Sarah came up the east. They each pointed a gun at one of Colt's remaining men and realized they were in a standoff. Casey had a gun trained on Mr. Colt, and Roan had a gun aimed at a guy standing next to Colt. The three thugs had their guns drawn as well, and Colt held a gun to Emmett's head.
"Let him go and I'll let you live," said Casey.
"Give me Chuck, and I'll think about it," replied Colt.
Chuck stood up from behind a display with his hands raised. "I'm here, you can let him go."
"You see? You've got your man, now you can let me go, big fella," said Emmett. He turned to Chuck. "I always knew you were trouble, Bartowski," he hissed.
"I've got the upper hand here," said Colt. "I've got a hostage and your team can't take on all of my agents." As he spoke, three more members of his team emerged from the computer software aisle. They had dropped into the store through the ventilation system during the gunfight. They clicked the safeties off their guns and smiled.
Chuck noticed the door open on the idling car and he licked his lips. He only needed to stall a few minutes. He reached into his pocket slowly and called Morgan, putting the iPhone on speaker mode. "Morgan," he said.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, Chuck," said Morgan.
"Morgan, I'd like for you to tell me the exact specs for the team surrounding the Buy More."
"The whole shebang?" the little man asked.
"The whole shebang."
"Yes, sir. We have 23 infantry troopers, 16 snipers, 7 heavy gunners, 4 demolition experts, . . . " Morgan continued to babble on as Chuck lowered his iPhone down .
Colt smiled. "I'm not going to fall for that again, Agent Carmichael."
Suddenly, gunfire erupted, the bullets hitting the front of the store, shattering the windows. Carina stood in front of her car with an M-16, spraying the bullets just high enough to avoid killing anyone.
Everyone began shooting at the same time, and Colt shoved Emmett off the counter. Emmett stood up to run and one of Colt's men fired at him, shooting him in the back. He fell to the floor.
"No!" yelled Chuck, ignoring the rain of bullets around him. He ran over to Emmett and knelt beside him. Turning him over, Chuck realized that Emmett was already dead.
Seconds later, the store fell silent. Colt's agents surrendered, raising their hands up in the air. Mr. Colt was bleeding from three bullet wounds, one in the shoulder and two in his right leg. Even so, the massive man remained standing as Casey slipped the zip ties over his hands.
Two large black vans pulled up to the front of the store; the NSA back-up had perfect timing, as usual. Agent Forrest jumped out of the passenger side of one of the vans. "I can't believe I missed all the gunplay."
Casey chuckled softly. It was good to see her again.
Sarah directed Roan and Casey to carry Emmett out to one of the vans. Chuck watched them silently. Colt and the rest of his thugery were herded into the other van.
***
As the commotion near the front of the store ceased, Morgan walked out to the audio install bay and joined Big Mike.
"Where's Lester?" he asked, looking around.
"I didn't see him, maybe he split when he saw those hired hands from Beverly Hills," said Big Mike. He turned to face Morgan.
"Son, I want to thank you for coming when I needed you most."
Morgan shuffled his feet. "Aw, that's okay."
Big Mike placed his hands on Morgan's shoulders. "Morgan, consider your debt paid."
The men were silent for a moment, and then Morgan moved toward the back door. "What's that music?" he asked. They both went outside.
Meanwhile, Lester, who was still slumped down in the Trans Am listening to his iPod, glanced at his watch and realized his shift was over. He climbed out of the car and decided to avoid Emmett by exiting via the audio bay door. When he opened the door, he was shocked to see a man wearing a bed sheet walk by. Several NSA cleaners had donned togas to help keep the Buy More employees contained and to keep them from discovering the real events of the day.
Lester followed the man along the back lots of the Large Mart plaza and around a corner to the front of Underpants, Etc. He stood with wide eyes and an open mouth. Music was blaring from a set of monstrous speakers, and an entire crowd of people dressed in togas were dancing in the parking lot. Morgan and Big Mike had joined the dancers, and Lester saw Skip, Fernando, Kirk and all the Buy More gang, as well as employees from the Large Mart and Underpants, Etc. stores.
"Why didn't anyone tell me there was a toga party today?" he asked himself.
Suddenly Jeff rushed up to him barefoot, his sheet barely fastened and flapping behind him. While the other party-goers kept their skivvies on under their sheets, Jeff had decided that he would go au natural—in true toga fashion. He wore a leafy crown on his head and held a bottle of beer.
"Lester! Where have you been? C'mon, man, the booze is free!"
Lester tried to avoid looking at Jeff from the waist down and looked up at his head. He pointed. "Can I get one of those?" he asked.
Jeff's face lit up and he grabbed Lester's hand, running into the crowd.
***
Chuck stood outside and leaned against the building, watching Cole and Carina load the remaining men into the van. Suddenly he stepped forward. Did he just see one of Colt's men hand something to Cole? He blinked his eyes in the sunlight. Cole walked over to him.
"Well, done, Chuck. We got away with acceptable losses," he said.
Chuck nodded his head slightly and Cole walked back into the store. Sarah came out and stood next to Chuck.
"I'm sorry, Chuck," she said.
He gave her a small smile. "I know, Sarah."
She took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze as they waited for Casey to drive the Crown Vic over to them.
"How many more losses will be acceptable?" he asked.
Sarah sighed. "I can't answer that, Chuck. We'll take down every last escapee, I can tell you that. It would help if we could figure out who's been lying to us, though."
Chuck watched Cole get into one of the vans and drive away. "The truth is out there," he said.
***
"I'm just not sure that's such a great idea, babe," said Devon. "I mean, I was hoping we could just spend the afternoon performing an instant replay of our honeymoon."
"And what did we do this morning?" asked Ellie, placing her hands on her hips.
"That was just the first inning replay, Mrs. Woodcomb." He walked up and wrapped his arms around her.
Ellie gave an exaggerated sigh. "You are simply incorrigible." She enjoyed his embrace for a moment and then stepped back. "We might as well get this over with," she said. "We have six Food Savers! Six! All because someone at that lousy Buy More didn't update the registry."
"Okay, but let's make it a quick trip."
Ellie smiled at him. "Maybe we can cover two innings tonight."
Devon packed the Food Savers into the backseat and they were soon on their way. In the rear view mirror, Devon noticed that a dark car had pulled out behind him and was following. At least I have some NSA backup this time, he thought.
As they were making the turn into the parking lot, they noticed a crowd of people dressed in white, dancing in front of Underpants, Etc. Devon pulled the car closer to the crowd.
"Is that Big Mike?" he asked. "Wearing a toga?"
"What is all this?" asked Ellie.
They got out of the car, and Devon looked back at the dark car, which had pulled up beside them. The driver nodded at Devon, indicating that everything was okay.
Devon and Ellie wandered their way into the crowd.
***
Chuck and Sarah were just getting into Casey's Crown Vic when Morgan, wearing a bed sheet over his boxers and his green and yellow running shoes, rushed up to them, breathless.
"Chuck," he started, taking great big breaths. "Chuck."
Alarmed, Chuck and Sarah walked over to Morgan, and Casey got out of the car.
"Slow down, buddy," said Chuck. "What's wrong?"
Morgan took a few more breaths. "Nothing's wrong," he said with a smile. "There's some super-hot chick at the party who wanted to dance with Chuck Bartowski from the Buy More." He laughed. "I told her you were already taken," he said, looking at Sarah. "She's probably an old customer who still has the hots for you, buddy."
Chuck smiled with relief. "Thanks, Morgan. I'll see you at the going away party."
Morgan grabbed his arm. "Wait, Chuck. When I told Ellie you were here, she asked me to get you. This lady started dancing the tango with Awesome, and she said she wouldn't stop until she got to dance with you. This lady must have a serious crush on you, dude."
"Ellie and Awesome are there?" asked Chuck.
Morgan nodded. "So?"
Chuck turned to Sarah. "Are you coming to the toga party?"