Then:
Another man with a vivid scar across one cheek, strides into the room.
"Hi Charles. My name's Tommy. Let's be friends.
Tommy reaches for the black bag and yanks it off the woman.
Now:
Present Time: Undisclosed Location.
Chuck's insides turn to ice as tiny prickles dance along his neck. He clenches his fists and attempts to lean in closer, but can't.
It's Jill.
She's disoriented, eyes wildly bouncing around the room. She looks horrible. Her skin is sallow with deep circles under her eyes. What the hell is going on?
"Oh my god. Oh my god. Jill," Chuck starts to ramble. "Oh god, Jill are you okay?"
One Month Ago: Ellie's Apartment
Ellie sits ridged on the couch as Devon slowly rubs her back. Detective Mauser stands across from them in a defeated pose.
"Are you sure Miss Roberts didn't take off to visit her family?" Mauser asks with notebook and pen in hand.
"She promised Chuck she'd never leave again." Ellie is firm in her answer. After all the shit Jill put Chuck through, Ellie made the biologist swear to not to screw her brother over again. Jill made a tearful promise to Ellie.
"Did they take her too?" Devon asks.
"It's looking likely. Phone records show she made a final call to her Uncle Bernard after she met with the CIA Agents about Chuck."
Devon internally winces. "Do you know what they talked about in the meeting?"
Mauser looks up from his notebook. "Not yet, but we hope to know what happened very soon."
Ellie sniffles. If Chuck comes home, there's no way he could survive losing Jill twice.
Present Time: Undisclosed Location
Tommy leans back against the wall smirking behind Jill. Mike exits and Ike assumes position by the door.
Jill connects with Chuck's eyes for a brief moment. "Chuck?"
Jill doesn't seem to be all there. Oh God, has she been here the whole time? Did she come to the office when he didn't call back? She leans back in her chair, twisting her arms against her binds. Chuck can tell she's starting to spiral.
"Hey. Hey Jill. It's me. Everything is going to be okay. It's okay. We're okay."
As Chuck continues to speak soothing words, Jill physically starts to slow down. She's able to maintain eye contact. Every now and then she whispers, "Chuck" like a lifeline.
Snick.
Chuck freezes. He'd almost forgotten they weren't alone.
Tommy twirls a switchblade in his hands from his casual position along the wall.
"Well isn't this just wonderful? Romeo and Juliet together again." Tommy pushes off the wall and moves to stand behind Jill. He smiles widely at Chuck as he slowly puts his hand down on Jill's shoulder.
Jill tenses.
"I thought we could all get to know each other. Be real good buddies." Tommy tightens his grip. Jill's eyes never leave Chuck.
Chuck's mouth feels like sandpaper. "Aren't we? I mean we can be best buddies. We just need to get to know each other over drinks. Or I don't know, maybe have actually met before?"
Tommy chuckles. "We've met. In fact, we've spent several hours together in your little suite here. I've also been listening in to your lovely little dates with my coworkers."
Chuck shudders. "You should have introduced yourself sooner."
"I just wanted to know how to be a good friend to you, Chuck Bartowski." If it's even possible, Tommy's grin gets Cheshire Cat creepy.
Chuck swallows. "Look I don't know anything. Jill doesn't know anything. She's a biologist. I fix computers. I've been honest this whole time. I don't know what you want."
"Ah, but you see, you both hurt my feelings. I don't feel like I've gotten to know either of you very well. I don't think my questions have been hard to answer."
Tommy slowly brings around his hand wielding the knife to rest over Jill's other shoulder.
Chuck tries to hold in a whimper. Tommy's grip on the knife is loose, in a comfortable casual sort of manner. Jill closes her eyes.
This guy is a psycho. Who would ever want to be friends with him? Chuck turns briefly to Ike with what must have looked like a pathetic plea for help. Ike continues to stare straight ahead.
"Now normally I'd like to say I have all the time in the world to get past these hurt feelings, but we're on somewhat of a schedule. Therefore I'm going to give each of you one more chance. Just one more chance to make nice and be friends."
In a flash, Tommy moves his empty hand to yank Jill's greasy brown hair as the switchblade is brought to her neck.
Jill whimpers as blood drips from the sharp edge.
"So the first person to tell me where the Intersect is gets to live."
Oh god. Chuck pulls at his binds.
"I don't know. Please I don't know. I don't know what an intersect is. Please don't hurt her. She doesn't know anything. Please." Chuck pleads.
Tommy shakes his head and starts to pull the knife. Jill winces as a stream of blood pours down her neck. Chuck's pleas pour out of his mouth.
"I know where Bryce Larkin is."
Two Weeks Ago: Safe House, Washington DC
Casey and Bryce sit across from each other at a fold out table in a tiny loft apartment. Files lay scattered around the table. They each work, taking notes and reading documents. The room is silent except for the hum of the air conditioner and pens on paper.
Casey and Bryce have entered into an uncomfortable truce. The work needs to get done so yelling and fisti-cuffs can wait for later.
The mission like the previous one with Larkin is a total bust. The team was too late in locating the top ten individuals on the Flemming flunky list. They'd all disappeared. Although in less public and horrific circumstances than Bartowski's. That said they had found a handful of the losers.
Speaking of Bartowski, there'd been no fresh leads. Director Graham put a black mark on Larkin's records for his deception. A normal agent would have been booted from the Agency; however, because of Larkin's current status as the fake Intersect, there really wasn't much the CIA could do. They needed Larkin. Fuck-ups and all.
The front door banged up. Both Casey and Larkin whipped out guns as they turned towards the door.
Sarah quickly shut the door and approached the table. The men set their guns down.
Sarah set down the duffle bag she brought in.
"I just got word from Beckman that another Fulcrum dumpsite's been found. At least two of the bodies are individuals from the Stanford List."
Present Time: Undisclosed Location.
"I know where Bryce Larkin is."
What?
Tommy freezes as Chuck stares at Jill.
Jill strains away from the knife. She starts softly but her voice gains volume as she continues. "I know where Bryce Larkin is. We've been in touch recently. If you let Chuck go, I'll help you find him."
"You know where Bryce is?" Chuck stutters, floored.
Tommy pulls the knife away. Jill takes a deep breath. "We'd been meeting over drinks after work. Chuck, I'm so sorry. It was an accident. We-"
"Isn't this touching?" Tommy interrupts. "See I knew we weren't being honest with each other. For the record, Chuck, I believe you when you say you don't know anything." Tommy sends a meaningful look to Ike. The thug nods and approaches Chuck with a gun in his hand.
Jill panics. "Wait! Please! You have to let Chuck go!"
Ike raises the gun, releases the safety and presses the barrel into the side of his head.
Chuck closes his eyes, bracing for the end. Images of Ellie flicker behind his closed eyelids.
"Please, I'll tell you anything you want. Anything."
"Tell me about the intersect." Tommy demands.
"Promise me that you'll let Chuck go."
"Promise."
"I'll tell you everything." Jill whispers.
The cold barrel drops away. Chuck opens his eyes to meet Jill's teary gaze.
"Perfect." Tommy sets the switchblade on the table. He steps around Jill's left side and seizes her hand. His large fingers grip her wedding finger. Jill tries and fails to make a fist. He yanks her small engagement rink off her finger.
"Take her away."
Ike taps on the door. Mike enters. The two start to release Jill from the chair.
Chuck is lost. Nothing makes sense anymore. Jill knows what these guys are looking for? What the hell?
A tear falls down Jill's cheek. She mouths, "I'm sorry" as Mike and Ike drag her from the room.
Tommy approaches Chuck. He holds the ring in front of Chuck's face.
"To remember her by." Tommy stuffs the ring in the front pocket of Chuck's ruined work shirt.
Two new goons enter the room and move to stand on either side of Chuck.
"You're letting me go?" Chuck whispers.
Tommy smirks.
Whatever crazy adrenaline rush that's propelled Chuck through these last minutes washes away. Chuck feels boneless. This is it. No five-year plan. No wedding.
"And Jill?"
"We're BFF's forever."
Tommy nods to the goons. One pulls out a long syringe and clear bottle with viscous green liquid as the other starts to release Chuck from the chair.
The needle is prepared and then pressed against his neck. The green liquid is injected.
Chuck starts to feel fuzzy almost immediately. His head falls back as he's lifted from the chair and dragged across the room.
He loses track of time and place.
Suddenly, he's being lifted up into a reclining chair and strapped down. Colors swirl around him.
A pair of familiar voices drift around him.
"Everything is in place. We can begin the final tests before the upload."
"And Sandstorm?"
"Delivered."
"Good to see we didn't waste our resources."
