Chuck and Sarah vs. the Ex, Chapter 7
Restricted CIA area; Cedars-Sinai Medical Center, Los Angeles, 1:49am on a weekday
The nurse at the entry desk was expecting two unconscious patients. She received the call ten minutes ago and had prepared a single room for the two to share. There were already nine patients in seven rooms and she only had a single room vacant. It must have been a busy time in black ops.
Her husband was a CIA consultant who frequently traveled overseas. She didn't know he worked for the CIA before he proposed, and never suspected that their trips to China, Indonesia, India, and Vietnam were anything more than tourism. She wasn't shocked when he proposed to her, but was taken aback by the non-disclosure agreement he then asked her to sign. He assured her that she wouldn't notice any difference in their life and she hadn't, except that her imagination ran wild every time they went abroad. Nine years and two kids later, he asked her to work at a new high security area being set up at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center. The CIA was setting up a small facility where covert operatives could receive the finest care in the L.A. area. Being married to him for nine years sped up the vetting process. She had now been working at the facility for three years and thought of it as just another job.
Other three-letter agencies used the facility as well. At the moment, there were five CIA agents, one NSA agent, one DIA agent, one Delta Force operator, and one fellow whose employer was unknown. Apparently, there had been some incident in Monterey Park that morning and two partners were on the way in. One worked for the CIA, and one for the NSA. In her experience, it was rare for two agents from the sometimes cooperating, often competing agencies to work together.
An email arrived from Washington with the relevant medical files for the two partners. The CIA agent was named Sarah Walker, or at least answered to that name at the moment. Sixty percent of her medical file was blacked out. Five feet nine inches tall, blonde hair, blue eyes. Recent concussion. Past broken ribs, leg, arm, fingers. Various puncture wounds. The NSA agent was Major John Casey. Fifty percent of his file was blacked out. Six feet four inches tall, dark brown hair, blue eyes. Also had broken ribs in the past. Gunshot wounds. Puncture wounds. Concussions. Ruptured eardrum. These two had seen some action.
She heard the helicopter approaching the rooftop helipad. Her patients were about to arrive. She paged the on-call doctor so he could receive them immediately. It was just another night on the job.
Black BMW M6; Westbound I-10, Los Angeles, 2:05am on a weekday
Following his unsatisfying conversation with his Fulcrum asset, Bryce decided to head west to the coast. He was out of leads and could think of no way to pick up Chuck's trail.
He was going to have to get in touch with Sarah. He would have to come up from his deep, dark world where almost everyone thought he was dead.
Repeated calls to Sarah's phone went straight to voicemail. He had no reason to distrust the Fulcrum asset's word about her survival of the Reaper bombing. He still felt fear at not being able to reach her, even though he knew it was irrational. Calls to Casey's cell also led to voicemail. He would have to call D.C. He dialed Director Graham.
"This is Graham."
"Whiskey tango foxtrot mike foxtrot"
It was quiet for five seconds before Graham replied. "The line is secure. It's been a while."
"I've been busy. I was on the trail of the Intersect but it went cold. I need to contact Sarah."
"Why do you need to reach her? You're risking your cover by even contacting me."
"She may be able to help me find the Intersect's location."
"If you have some information on the Intersect's location, you need to tell me."
Bryce immediately sensed that something was amiss. "I don't have anything solid and I'd rather not say over the phone. If you could tell me where Sarah is, or how to contact her, I can get results faster out here."
Graham remained silent once again fueling Bryce's fear that Sarah was dead. He tried but failed to push the feeling away.
"Sarah is indisposed at the moment, along with Major Casey. They were injured during a failed attempt to rescue the Intersect."
Bryce let out a breath he didn't know he was holding when he heard that Sarah was still alive. "How badly was she hurt? Is she in a hospital?"
"They are being taken to the secure medical facility. They still need to be examined. They're both unconscious at the moment."
"How badly was she hurt," Bryce asked again.
"Early signs point to another concussion. She may also be suffering from shock."
Shock? Sarah? Bryce was surprised. Sarah was one of the most stable agents he knew, as long as she kept her emotions in check. And she was usually very good at that.
"I need to see her."
"You can see her later. She's unconscious at the moment and will be for several hours. The medic on the scene had to sedate her to calm her down."
"You had her sedated!?"
"She was displaying symptoms of shock as well as being insubordinate. We had to temporarily remove her from command. She may be too emotionally involved with this whole operation."
Bryce thought that Graham was talking about a complete stranger. Sarah being in shock was hard enough to believe, but emotionally involved with the mission? What did that mean? He was sure that she would not be happy about being benched.
"Who's in command now?"
"Agents Lee and Vazquez are flying in. Their mission will be to locate the Intersect and plan an elimination strike. We don't have time to plot rescue missions and can't risk any more information leakage."
Now, Bryce was shocked. They wanted to kill Chuck. He couldn't let that happen. He knew what he was going to do, but he asked Graham anyways.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Keep working your leads. If you get any decent information on the Intersect's location, let me know. I'll contact you when Agent Walker wakes up and put you in contact. You're not to contact anybody else. The fewer people who know you're alive, the better."
Bryce disconnected the call. He was sticking to his plan. "Roger that."
Carbon Beach, Malibu, 2:17am on a weekday
At this hour, the neighborhood was deserted as the van pulled into the garage. The billionaires and celebrities who lived along the valuable strip of beach cherished their privacy. Most of them weren't even home, since they only used their multi-million dollar beachside estates as weekend getaways. If any noise escaped the sound-proof mansion, it would likely be chalked up to a party that got a little wild, which was par for the area.
Chuck was taken to the living room which had a large glass façade facing the dark ocean. Thompson made him sit in something that resembled a dentist's chair, only with ankle, wrist, and head straps. Thompson left the room after he was securely restrained.
"Jill, if you lived so close, why didn't you ever invite me over for a party," Chuck quipped nervously.
She completed her inspection of the room. "I would have if the house was mine. It belongs to a friend of a friend. The guy behind the guy."
"Does this guy behind the guy have a name?"
"He does, but it's one you don't have to worry your curly haired head over." She cupped his cheek then ran her fingers through his hair.
Chuck fought his urge to shrink from her touch. He had to at least look strong if he was going to survive, and escape. Pushing his fear aside for a moment, he asked himself what Sarah would have done in his place. He looked around the room and scanned for anything that could be used as a weapon. He saw a table with tray on top that held various medical instruments. He could use one of them as a knife. The chair he was in was bolted down so that couldn't be used. He saw a big TV in one corner, some glass vases on a glass table, and a glass coffee table. There was a stack of folding chairs. What would Sarah have done?
Thompson returned with a familiar metal briefcase. Jill sat in front of Chuck on one of the folding chairs. She opened the briefcase and began removing the vials of drugs. "Well Chuckie, let's take it from the top. We shouldn't have any interruptions this time."
Restricted CIA area; Cedars-Sinai Medical Center, Los Angeles, 2:39am on a weekday
"Linda, is that you," the friendly masculine voice on the phone greeted.
It only took her a second to recognize the caller. She was sure it wasn't his real name, but it was all she had. "Johnnie! You don't call, you don't write! I must say that it's been a while since I've seen you so you must be doing well. I'm glad you're staying out of the line of fire. What's up?"
"I have been glad to stay out of your unit there, but I must admit that I miss your bedside manner. Listen, I have a little favor to ask."
"Sure, you were always one of our nicest patients. What is it?"
"I need to know if you got some new patients this morning."
"We always get new patients, hun. You know I can't get into details. It could cost me my job."
"I understand. But I really need to find out if someone I know is there. It's very important that I learn their condition. They…she really means a lot to me. Can you help me?"
"I don't know what else I can say without giving specifics."
"Hmm…how about we have a little fun then. Cough once for yes, twice for no. Are you game?"
Linda thought about what 'Johnnie' was asking her to do. It could have serious repercussions to her career if something went awry. She couldn't think of what could though. The CIA area of the hospital was under the constant surveillance and had the highest level of security. Nobody had ever gotten in or out by mistake. Johnnie was a really sweet guy and he sounded like he just wanted to know if someone he cared about was fine. She couldn't fault the guy for that. She got a look at Agent Walker when she was brought in and suspected that Johnnie was talking about her. Even unconscious and covered with dust and grime, she was a very pretty girl. Linda thought that Johnnie and Sarah made a terrific looking couple. Who was she to stand in the way of love? She coughed once.
"I owe you, Linda. Did two patients just arrive, a tall blonde female, and an even taller male?"
She coughed once.
"Does the female's name rhyme with, oh…Charah?"
Linda hesitated upon hearing the strange name. She figured it rhymed closely enough.
She coughed once.
It must have pleased Johnnie since his voice immediately sounded more cheerful. "Are the female's injuries serious?"
Even though the doctor hadn't finished his complete workup on Agent Walker yet, Linda knew that so far, she only had a concussion. She was also under sedation so she must have pissed off someone upstairs. It wasn't uncommon to receive sedated patients in this unit. Linda coughed twice.
Johnnie sounded even happier. "Thank you Linda. You're a real lifesaver. I mean that literally."
As Linda hung up the phone, she couldn't help but smile. It was refreshing to see young people in love. People in their line of work deserved some happiness.
Carbon Beach, Malibu, 3:22am on a weekday
Jill was slightly impressed by Chuck. In contrast to his first exposure to the physiological response drugs, he was remarkably silent this time around. Sure, he eventually gave up the information she sought, but he disguised his pain and discomfort relatively well. He didn't plead once. Back at Stanford, she always thought he had great potential, but seeing his life since then convinced her that she was wrong. Maybe it was time to reevaluate that judgment. It had taken level three of the drugs to really loosen his tongue.
Chuck fought back with everything he had. He sympathized with Jill for what she had gone through. She had some bad breaks. He also knew that given the chance, he would strangle her with his bare hands. She had killed Sarah. Sarah. Sarah... He loved how her name sounded. Chuck and Sarah sitting in a tree… He kept repeating her name in his mind along with a mantra he recently created to keep him sane through the level three drug. Go Chuck Go. Go Chuck Go…
His clothes were soaked through with sweat. He had been drooling blood and saliva from his mouth for the past twenty minutes, but Jill didn't let up. She got what she wanted. She gave him the anti-serum and left to join Thompson in the adjoining room. She was going to give Chuck twenty minutes to recover. He probably still had a lot of information in that big brain of his and she didn't want to break him this early.
Thompson looked up from his laptop when she approached. "Well?"
"He is the real deal. He gave up most of their operations since he became the Intersect. They took down a lot of people over the past few months. It was an accident that he got the Intersect in his skull, but it's worked better than anyone could have imagined."
"So you're not going to kill him anymore?"
"I'm thinking about it. He may be more valuable to us alive. We don't know if his abilities are unique, or can be taught. He could be the only one of his kind in the world, but with research, we could identify other possible candidates."
"So how much longer are you going to mine him?"
"As long as it takes. I still need to learn about their operations over the past month or two, and get more detail on the chain of command. We want to make sure that our strike is total and devastating."
"Speaking of which, Bartlett is on the line."
Jill picked up the phone. "Bartlett?"
"I'm here. Any change in orders?"
"Not at the moment, but we may be moving the timetable up. Stay alert for any changes. Has Graham moved?"
"No, he's still in his home office. You must be keeping him busy."
"I'm trying." She couldn't hide her smile. "I'll be in contact if the situation changes. Carry on." She gave Thompson the phone back.
"What's our status on the rest of Operation T-Shadow," she asked.
"Our tails are all still active and hidden. In addition to Graham, we have eyes on the directors of the CIA, DIA, NRO, FBI, and Secret Service."
"Good. A few more hours with Chuck and we can guarantee Fulcrum's success. In about an hour, can you bring in the special device?"
"You think it will work?"
"I don't think it will hurt," she answered. "It gives us a bit of an insurance policy too."
Gulfstream G550; somewhere over Arizona, 4:50am on a weekday
Agents Lee and Vazquez had been busy since the last video conference with Director Graham. They had a great deal more responsibility now that they were in command and were constantly on the phone coordinating with agents in L.A.
Nikki dove into another set of data hoping to flash on something useful. She only had one small flash so far and it was peripheral to matters. She couldn't believe that Chuck's ex-girlfriend, Jill was at the top of the suspect list. Sarah had the CIA run a full workup on her once she escaped the demolished building. Chuck apparently had a history with government agents that went way back beyond Agent Walker. She wondered how things would have turned out differently for him had he gone into the CIA out of college. She wondered if they would have ever met and how her life could be different. Excepting the current crisis, she was happy to have met Chuck the way she did.
"We'll be wheels down in about an hour. We'll helicopter over to Cedars-Sinai and get a quick briefing. Then, we'll meet with Agents Walker and Casey. Hopefully, they'll be awake by then," Agent Vazquez said.
"Are we really going to try and kill Chuck," Nikki asked
"Unfortunately, yes. Those are our orders. I know it will be difficult for you, but just remember we're serving the greater good in all this."
"I'll try and keep that in mind," Nikki quietly answered. She stared out the window into the blackness. She needed some comfort food at the moment. A full stack of pancakes would be perfect…
Back Entrance; Cedars-Sinai Medical Center, Los Angeles, 5:39am on a weekday
He had tried to shake loose any leads on Chuck's whereabouts but struck out. Nobody would give him any useful information, or they just didn't know anything. Fulcrum was running a well-compartmentalized operation. He was going to have to find out where Sarah liked to make love as the sun set. Whatever that meant.
Bryce procured a set of scrubs and attached a counterfeit hospital ID. He parked outside the loading dock for about twenty minutes, watching how hospital employees moved in and out. They all spoke to a man behind a glass window. He would have to talk his way in. The CIA facility inside was under the tightest security. He was looking forward to seeing Sarah again.
He approached the window casually and removed his ID badge to hand to the guard behind the window, as he had seen the others do. He was caught unaware by the edge of the ID and almost fumbled it.
"Be careful, man. Those cards can cut you. They're as sharp as a marble."
"I hear you…" Bryce strained to read the guard's ID badge. "Bill."
"That's me. Bill at work. So, Robby, why haven't I seen you out here before?"
"I'm just a fill-in. There's a bout of the runs circulating through the move team. They had to call for temps at the last minute for replacements."
"A-ha…"
Bryce spotted a CD on the man's desk. "Hey, you listen to Notorious JMG too?"
"JMG? What are you smoking dude? It's BIG. Notorious B.I.G. And yeah, I listen to Biggie. Somehow, you don't strike me as a guy who does."
"I don't," Bryce quickly countered. "I have a buddy who does. He was real sad back in '97 when Biggie got killed."
"That was sad. I listen to him and Tupac. I never understood their beef."
Bryce watched as Bill carefully looked over his ID. He saw that Bill was very alert and good at his job.
"That's a very natty uniform you have there, Bill. Is that standard issue? Something looks different about yours."
"You have a good eye! My wife presses them all herself, after I get them back from the cleaners. She's a real stickler for crisp clothes."
"Sounds like a good woman."
"She is…she truly is." Bill looked at Bryce one more time before handing back his ID.
"Well, you're good to go Robby. Don't hurt your back moving any giant patients around. Do you know where to go?"
"I can find my way. Thanks Bill."
