A/N: Thanks again everyone for reading and for your comments. Now it's time for Chuck to — "Run Chuck, run!"


Chuck vs The Bodyguard

Chapter 7


Sarah's chest heaved, her lungs fighting for air. Sweat ran down her forehead as she stood over the dead shooter, blood pooling on the carpet underneath him. He'd been going to hurt Chuck, to take him away. Never again.

As her awareness returned she remembered Chuck had been hit. Fear crashed into her. Sarah pivoted and rushed to Chuck lying on the floor. His face was a mass of confusion as he pawed at his chest. His breaths came in jagged bursts.

Sarah dropped to her knees. "Chuck." He didn't respond, still consumed by panic. She reached out and grabbed his hands. "Chuck!"

Chuck looked at her hands holding his, then looked up at Sarah. The panic in his eyes exploded as he saw the blood on her shirt. "Sarah! You're bleeding. Oh my god, you've been shot!" He struggled to break her grip and reach out to her, but she held tight.

"Chuck, look at me." She tightened her grip and shook his hands hard. "Look at me."

Chuck raised frantic eyes to hers.

"It's not my blood," she said quickly. "I'm okay. Do you understand? I'm okay."

Chuck nodded uncertainly. "But I saw you get shot." Then he looked down at the hole in the front of his t-shirt. "I got shot. Except … I didn't. Geeze, this hurts like a bitch, but I'm not bleeding." He looked back up at Sarah. "What the hell's going on?"

"Later," Sarah said. "We have to get out of here. Now!"

As she pulled him to his feet Chuck let out a painful moan. Sarah felt like her own chest had been hit by a wrecking ball. She guessed she had at least one cracked rib.

"We've got thirty seconds. Get what you need. We've gotta go in case these guys have backup."

Chuck went to his dresser and grabbed his wallet and phone.

Sarah went to her backpack, ripped it open and pulled out two fresh magazines. One went into her pistol while the other went into her blazer pocket. She checked her other pocket to make sure her phone and wallet with her credentials were still there. She left both the backpack and duffle on the floor.

Chuck came up beside Sarah, a jacket thrown over one shoulder. "I'm ready," he said.

"Stay behind me," Sarah said. She turned toward the door and a jolt of fire shot through her side. She let out a bark of pain. "Fuck!"

Chuck reached out and cradled her arm. "You're hurt," he said.

Sarah grimaced at him. "Look who's talking."

That earned her a pathetic grin. After what they'd just been through, she'd take it.

They snuck around the outside of the house but met no resistance. When Sarah had cleared the area in front of the house and on the street, they rushed to her Porsche. She pulled the car quietly into the street moving quickly away from Chuck's house, on the lookout for more attackers.

Two houses down Sarah's eyes locked on an empty silver SUV parked against the curb. There were no other cars parked like that in this upscale neighborhood. Everyone had their own driveway or garage. She had no doubt it was the same SUV that had followed her when she'd left Engram Engineering and it had probably brought their four attackers here.

You really screwed up this time, Walker.

As she thought about the SUV, something didn't make sense. How had the SUV known that Chuck was in her car? Aside from her captain there were only a handful of people who knew Chuck had a bodyguard. Every one of those had a huge financial motivation for him to stay alive. And she'd checked the parking garage when they were leaving. No one had seen them get into her car, she was sure of it. She felt her lips pursing as she grew angrier with herself.

"Thank you for saving my life," Chuck said, pulling her from her thoughts. "You were…," his words trailed off. "I've never seen …," he stopped again. He took in breath and said, "You're amazing and terrifying, all at the same time."

"I guess I'll take that as a compliment," she said.

Chuck frowned. "What happened back there? Why aren't we dead?"

Sarah glanced at him. "Rubber bullets," she replied.

"What?"

"Rubber bullets. Riot police use them for crowd control. Technically, they're non-lethal."

"Technically?" Chuck said, his voice a squeak.

"They're intended for use at a distance," Sarah said. "But in close quarters like your loft they can do some serious damage. Break bones, injure organs. A head shot would probably kill you."

"Four guys come to kill me and they bring rubber bullets? What the hell's that about? Budget cuts?"

Sarah let out a snort at Chuck's attempt to deal with the stress. She hadn't seen it early in the day, but now she knew the nerd had a wicked sense of humor. One surprise after another.

Sarah upshifted the Porsche, accelerating along the street.

"I don't think they were trying to kill you," she said.

"Okay, now I'm really confused."

"There were four attackers, not just one assassin," she explained. "They were tactically trained and good at it. And they were using non-lethal ammunition. They were acting more like an extraction team than a hit squad."

"You think they were trying to kidnap me?" Chuck asked.

"That's what it looks like," Sarah replied.

"You could have fooled me. I thought we were dead meat." Chuck visibly shivered in his seat. "When you got shot," he paused, swallowing hard, "I freaked out. And when that guy was closing in to finish you off …,"

The scene of Chuck throwing himself in front of the shooter's rifle flashed in her mind and his idiotic maneuver fueled the anger already simmering inside her.

"That was the dumbest thing I've ever seen," Sarah said, her voice hard. "I told you to stay behind the couch. Instead you do the exact opposite, you jump in front of a bullet." Her frustration was almost palpable now.

"But it wasn't a real bullet," Chuck said.

"You didn't know that," Sarah snapped. "You're not bullet-proof, Chuck."

"I couldn't let you die like that," he said.

"That's not your choice," Sarah said, her knuckles tightening on the steering wheel in frustration.

The tension crackled in the silence between them. Sarah glanced at Chuck and saw him staring at her with an emotion she hadn't seen before etched clearly on his face. He was mad.

"You're wrong," Chuck ground out. "It's no one else's choice but mine."

A chill cut through her. Sarah turned her eyes back to the road as emotions warred inside. Astonishment that he had thrown himself between her and a bullet. Anger that she had let the situation progress to where Chuck was actively acting against her and putting himself in danger. And fear that if this didn't change immediately, he'd be dead.

Sarah had planned to call her boss as soon as she felt they were far enough away from Chuck's house. She needed to notify Casey about what had happened and have him send a team to bring them both in. As soon as they got picked-up she'd be able to stand-down. Chuck would be surrounded by cops and Casey would stash him away somewhere. Chuck would be safe then, from his attackers, from himself, and from her.

Sarah needed time to think and to call her captain. She was rattled enough that she didn't trust herself to do those tasks while driving. And the self-loathing for not seeing the attack coming wasn't helping her nerves.

"We need a public parking lot," she said. "Large. Lots of cars."

"Why?" Chuck asked.

"I need some time to figure out our next move. And I need to contact my boss. Public place with people is safest."

"That's a tough one at 11 pm," Chuck said.

Her self-control cracked for an instant and her frustration leaked through as she smacked her fist against the steering wheel. "Shit. Shit, shit, shit."

She glanced at Chuck. He had his concerned face on.

"Sorry," she said.

"Don't worry about it," he said. "I was gonna say shit too, you just beat me too it. I mean, this is truly a shit-worthy situation."

Chuck's deadpan delivery caught her off-guard and she let out a laugh.

Sarah marveled at him for an instant. He was bruised and beaten, people were trying to kill him, and yet, here he was trying to make her feel better. And it worked.

He was a special guy. When he found his right girl she'd better realize what she had and treat him right. Because if she didn't, Sarah would come and personally adjust her attitude — and pain would be involved.

"Wait a tic," Chuck said, sitting up. "I know the perfect place."

Five minutes later, following Chuck's directions, Sarah pulled into the University of Washington's Husky Union Building parking lot. Even at this hour the lot was half full and people were coming and going from the huge brownstone building.

"I need to unfold my legs," Chuck said. "Great car, but leg room sucks."

Sarah nodded and they both got out. Chuck walked to the rear of the car and started doing some stretches.

Sarah pulled out her phone and dialed her captain. Casey picked up on the third ring.

"Walker," he said.

"Yes, sir."

"It's eleven at night. You're cutting into my beauty sleep," he growled.

Sarah hesitated, not sure where to start.

After the silence went to long, Casey let out an audible sigh and said, "I'm guessing things are FUBAR?"

"That would be a good guess, sir."

"Christ, Walker. How did you screw up a milk-run like this?"

"Just lucky, sir."

"Sit-rep. Is Bartowski alive?"

"He's alive, sir. We were attacked by a four-man assault team at his residence. You need to send forensics and clean-up teams."

"You kill 'em?"

"Yes, sir."

"All of 'em?"

"Roger that, sir."

Casey grunted. "Good job, Walker."

"You need to bring him in, sir. Chuck needs to go under."

Casey went silent and Sarah cursed herself for using Chuck's first name.

"Something you need to tell me, Walker?"

"It can wait, sir."

After another pause, Casey continued. "Where are you?"

"U-dub student union parking lot."

"You secure?"

"So far."

"Stay put. I'll have a team there in twenty."

"Copy that."

"Walker …"

"Yes sir?"

"Cover your own ass. The nerd isn't worth it."

Casey's words unnerved her and Sarah paused for an instant, finally replying, "Understood, sir."

Casey ended the call.

Sarah blew out a long breath. She turned back to her car where Chuck stood, towering over its roof. She kept forgetting how tall he was.

"So, what's the story?" he said.

"A team will be here in twenty minutes. They'll take you into protective custody. You'll be safe with them."

"Will you be coming?"

Sarah saw the anxiety in Chuck's eyes and her chest tightened.

"No. They'll take you to a safe place tonight and tomorrow my boss and your boss will figure out what to do next."

"What do you mean, next?"

"There's no doubt now that there's an active threat against you. Your security needs to increase to full protective custody."

"And that means …?"

"You'll be housed in a secure location," Sarah explained, "until another option is determined, or the threat is neutralized."

Chuck's expression darkened and he looked at the ground. Sarah could feel his frustration. She wished she could make him feel better, but there was nothing she could do.

"I'm guessing they'll keep a tight lid on you until the DOD project is finished," she continued. "Then they'll reassess to determine next steps."

Chuck lifted his forlorn eyes to hers. "It's like I've suddenly had my life ripped right out from under me."

Sarah felt a pang of sadness for Chuck but said nothing.

They stood in silence for a long time, Chuck leaning against his side of the car, Sarah against hers.

Casey's team would arrive soon. Then she could stand down. Then she could hand Chuck off to another team. Then she could be sure he was safe.