A/N: Agh! It's been over two weeks since I last updated! Sorry. Here's a chapter with some plot goodness to keep up the momentum a little. Yeah, it's long but I think it's totally worth it.

A/N: In this chapter there are some details of the location Chuck's apartment complex. Now the actual complex that the set in the show is based off of is actually in Hollywood (that's where the overhead shots of it come from and where the pilot episode was filmed), but we know that Chuck lives somewhere in Echo Park. So, for those of of you very detailed Chuckophiles, I've arbitrarily put their apartment complex on the northeast corner of Rosemont and Marathon, in the Echo Park neighborhood.


Cereal good. Gatorade good. Tylenol very good!

Chuck's thoughts were uncomplicated, not surprising considering the way his brain felt a size too large for his skull. He was holding an icepack to the back of his head with one hand and inexpertly scooping cereal into his mouth with his other, spilling milk down his chin. He'd woken up a little after 1:30 in the afternoon as Sarah was leaving for her spa day with Ellie and he'd quickly limited his ambitions to controlling the damage from the night before. He felt he deserved a day lacking excitement anyway. For once, Chuck was just happy to be alone in his apartment, blinds closed, his throbbing head approving of the silence and darkness.

"Hey bro." The banging of the front door combined with Awesome's booming cheeriness was like glass shattering in Chuck's cranium.

"Jesus! Awe … Devon, now's not the best …"

"I understand, my man. Hard drinking, scrambled noggin? What you need, my friend, is man-grass and fish-egg therapy."

Chuck's stomach spasmed uncomfortably. "Uh … not that I don't appreciate …"

"Start off with a mango protein smoothie – get your electrolytes and vitamins – and chase it with a shot of wheat grass to clean you out. Man-grass."

"Nice. You do realize I'm not a fuel injector, right?"

"Then we follow with a three-egg, smoked salmon omelet, to build up your glutathione levels and give you some omega-3s for that achy brain of yours."

"Oh god …" With another mention of eggs and fish, Chuck's stomach did a somersault.

"I know! Sounds great, right?"

"I think I'm gonna vom … oh, not good … breath in, breath out …"

"Come on, man. Our ladies are out together and neither of us has to work today; we should be doing something. You and I don't hang out much but we're family now."

"I know. You're right, Devon. I'm just not feeling … awesome right now, that's all."

"Not feeling up to the Woodcomb remedy, huh?"

"Not so much, no."

"Alright, then we do like we all did in college: greasy cheeseburger and fries."

"Now that I can do. Do I have to change out of sweats?"

A few ibuprofen, sunglasses, and a baseball cap later, Chuck peeked out of his cave into the courtyard. The outside was a lot brighter than he remembered, despite it being mildly overcast.

"Gaah! It burns. I think this was a bad idea."

A growl came from the other side of the fountain. "Man up, pumpkin. Where're you two off to?"

"Hey, John. Little bro here needs a hangover burger."

"Mind if I come along?" Casey didn't sound like he was asking.

Devon glanced at Chuck, his brows coming together. "Uh … sure, John."

Casey gave Chuck an expectant stare but Chuck remained silent, too fuzzy headed to know what the big man wanted.

"What were you guys thinking? In-N-Out, Lucky Boy …"

One name crawled up from Chuck's subconscious "Patra's!" He rasped it like a zombie moaning for brains. "Need greasy food … Orange Bang."

"Ech! That's disgusting." Casey made a face as if Chuck had suggested drinking LA river water.

"Seriously, bro. Orange Bang? With your stomach?" Devon was shaking his head.

"It's good! Whatever … you two don't have to have any."

"Fine, Patra's. We'll take my car." The finality in Casey's tone woke Chuck out of his fog.

Your car? Since when do you offer rides in the new Vic? Is this about that Taproot guy in my living room?

"They piled into Casey's new pride and joy, making a minimum of conversation. Chuck leaned against the window, staring out at the cars on his own street, then on Sunset.

"Quit smudging the window."

"It's just a car, Casey, jeez." Chuck sank into the backseat, rolling his eyes. Ignoring the glare in the rear view mirror, he let his mind drift over the possible implications of the previous night's intruder, though he didn't want to consider any of them.

They came to my house! Ellie, Morgan, Awesome … they don't deserve to get pulled into this … again. You were the one that decided to try and become an agent, Chuck; they didn't get a vote. You better get your head in the game because it's entirely your responsibility if anything happens to them.

Just then he was pulled out of his thoughts when Casey turned onto Lemoyne Street, heading north. Chuck spoke up. "Uh … where are we going?"

"Little detour. I need to get some cash."

"John, I can spot you."

Casey didn't respond to Awesome's offer and Chuck was instantly alert. "You see something?"

"Not yet."

"See what? Okay, whoa. What's going on here guys?" Awesome's voice had climbed a register.

"Nothing man. Relax. Casey is just ridiculously thorough when it comes to checking for tails … right?" Casey didn't respond. Thanks for the help, jackass.

"You do this every time you leave the house?" Awesome wasn't buying it.

"Every so often or when protocol dictates." Casey said this flatly and Chuck noticed he was suddenly very focused.

"So which is this, every so often or protocol?"

"I'll tell you in a minute," again, completely flat.

This silenced both men. Chuck was ready to ask several questions but knew Casey needed to concentrate. He followed their meandering course in his mind, trying to avoid the temptation to turn around and look. They headed north towards Silver Lake, stopping at an ATM, and then east, stopping at a gas station on Glendale before getting back on Sunset, bringing them to Patra's.

"That's it, I can't take this. Are we being followed or not?" Anxiety was bubbling over in Awesome's voice.

"You want the good news or the bad news first." Casey pulled into a space in the lot behind Patra's.

"Uh … bad, I guess."

"Yep, we're being followed."

"Oh man! Why can't getting a burger with you guys just be about getting a burger? What's the good news?"

"It's a nice day so, even though we'll be eating outside, at least we won't get wet." Casey smirked and clapped Awesome on the shoulder. His sarcasm was apparently un-dinted by their surveillance.

"What the hell, John! You're actually enjoying this?"

"I think he lives for this, Devon." Chuck was certain of it.

"Relax, ladies. They're still following us, which means they want something. We'll start worrying when they stop." As usual, it was impossible to tell if Casey was attempting to reassure or screw with them.

Patra's was surprisingly busy for the time of day and Chuck spotted more than a few hangover recoveries in progress. All three ordered burgers, though the Captain's face suggested he was less than enthusiastic about eating. As Casey had figured, they had to eat outside and they munched silently, carefully watching the traffic on Sunset. Chuck's curiosity soon got the best of him and he queried Casey.

"So, what kind of team was it? Any idea who they were … are?"

"Why do you think it was a team?"

"Well, you went to a bank and a gas station using as many turns as possible before coming here. I'm guessing it took a while to figure out so … probably more than one car."

Casey grunted which Chuck chose to interpret as grudging approval. "Two cars, rotating — which any operator worth a damn could spot — but they were hanging way back so it made it harder. I almost didn't notice them because both cars dropped us completely a couple times then picked us up later. Makes you wonder how they stayed with us, doesn't it?"

"Third car?"

"Nope. Traffic's too light. I would've spotted it."

Chuck's eyes grew round. "Tracker?"

Casey nodded. Chuck pointed to himself and Casey continued to nod.

Fucking Shaw! The booming in Chuck's occipital lobe returned with his frustration.

"What are you guys talking about? What did he mean by 'tracker'?" Awesome apparently had had enough of being left out of the loop.

"It means we might have a good idea who sent these guys to follow us but it's gonna be hard to ID the actual guys in the cars." Casey turned to Chuck. "We're gonna need Walker."

Chuck saw the baffled look on Awesome's face as he gave up trying to understand. He felt for his brother-in-law but knew it was better he stay uninformed. It was bad enough that he knew about the Ring. Chuck turned back as Casey grumbled at his phone.

"What's up?"

"Walker's not answering her phone."

"It's a clothes free spa, Casey. It's not like she's going to have her cell phone on her."

"That's not very professional."

"Yeah, well I'm sure you would have found a place to hide it, Casey." Chuck saw Awesome cover his mouth, coughing. "So what do we need her here for?"

"We need somebody to get eyes on our surveillance."

"The two of us can't do that?"

"It's complicated with your …" Casey nodded at Chuck.

The damn bug makes everything complicated. "I might have a way around that." Chuck brought out his phone. "I've hacked a little app on my phone so that I can clone the signal from the …" Chuck glanced at Awesome. "… from the thingy." Casey Grunted and rolled his eyes. Chuck continued. "The app keeps it from trans … it keeps the damn thing quiet the whole time the signal is cloned, at least until the software resets the password in a few hours. To anyone who's following us, this phone might as well be the … you know ... the thingy."

"So that's how you and Walker were getting away with it." Casey grunted, a smirk on his face. Another possible sign of approval? "Alright, that makes it a little easier, but we'll still need Devon."

Chuck and Awesome responded simultaneously. "No!"

"Settle down. Devon, all you have to do is sit in the front of the car pretending to be Chuck." Casey's voice became suddenly paternal. "Look, if we figure out who these guys are then we'll have a better idea if you and Ellie are in any danger. Maybe that'll help you sleep better tonight."

Devon seemed dubious, and Chuck didn't buy Casey's tone for a second. Still, he didn't know how long their tails would stay with them or remain detectable, so waiting for Sarah carried a risk. As neither Chuck or Devon had spoken up, Casey began detailing his plan. Chuck realized he would be doing a lot of the heavy lifting and his adrenaline picked up, his flagging hangover symptoms forgotten. They finished their lunch quickly, Casey pausing to make a short call to a cab company, then returned to the Vic.

As they made their way down Sunset, towards home, Chuck found himself recalling the early days, back when he'd first gotten the Intersect. He remembered looking at his city as if he'd never really seen it before, completely bewildered at how much secret activity could take place along the 101 corridor. There were times he wished he could return to ignorance, but once that curtain was pulled aside, it was impossible to go back.

Casey turned onto Rosemont and Chuck pushed these thoughts to the background, preparing himself and activating the signal cloning app. They passed out of view of their tails, which were hanging back a block and a half, and Casey hit the accelerator, taking them to the end of the block, and their apartment complex in seconds. Chuck slid out of the front seat, tossing his hoody, cap, and phone with the cloned signal to Devon, who replaced him. He took Devon's phone, plus a sweatshirt and navy blue cap that Casey had fished out of his trunk, then sprinted around the corner onto Marathon. He held his breath, not seeing what he was looking for, then let it out as he spotted the cab Casey had called earlier.

The cabbie was at first baffled by the fact that Chuck wanted to have a car followed and didn't have a specific destination. Then Chuck laid four $20 bills on the front seat and the instructions were quickly understood. Chuck knew Casey was headed towards the 2 and, after giving him an appropriate lead, had the cabbie follow him. As they exited the 2 onto the 5 heading north Devon's phone vibrated.

"Bartowski!"

"Yep."

"I see you back there. You're coming up on the B car now. It's a maroon Chevy Impala."

"I see it. Actually, Casey, that's more of a cabernet … maybe a …"

"Moron!"

"Sorry, I'm on it."

Chuck didn't dare tell the cabbie who they were following, instead directing him to the far left lane, one lane to the left of the Impala. He held Awesome's phone to his right ear, adjusted the angle, then waited for his moment. As they passed the Impala on the left side, he hit the button to begin video recording and prayed. Between Casey's hat and sweatshirt, the sunglasses, and his hand holding the phone covering the left side of his face, he was effectively hidden, but regardless he still felt exposed.

The cab passed the Impala without incident. After they pulled ahead a few car lengths, Chuck went to look at the video but Casey rang him first.

"Bartowski, what'd you do?"

"What? What happened?"

"They just broke off. They're getting off on Olive."

Chuck turned to see the Impala in the far right lane, dropping back to exit off the freeway. He assumed the A car had already gotten off. It occurred to him then that Sarah would have hit him for turning to look.

"I don't know, Casey. I don't think they saw …"

"Hold on … interesting ... now that's not a coincidence."

"What?"

"Meet us at the underground lot for the AMC by the BTC. Hold onto the cab."

"Why? What …" Chuck stopped speaking as Casey had already hung up.

He told the cabbie the new destination then set to playing back the video he'd taken. The picture was small but had decent resolution. It showed the shaking image of the side of the Impala, the view creeping towards the front of the car. He could see there was a passenger next to the driver, then the drivers face, and …. Chuck's eyes rolled back, eyelids fluttering. Pictures, files, and dates burst from his memory like startled birds.

Timothy McCardle … former NCS operator … confirmed as a Ring operative by *redacted* February 16th, 2010 …

Chuck couldn't focus on the details that followed.

Ring? Not Shaw? Then how were they tracking us?

He looked up to see the cabbie pulling off the freeway and wondered how Casey would respond. At the theater's underground lot, Chuck located Casey's Vic on the second level.

"Casey, I looked at the video. The guys who were following us were …"

"Ring?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"I just got a hit on the key tracker I put in the number pad for the gate at that storage place we checked out last month. You know, the one with the …"

"Yep. I remember."

"Somebody's getting into that unit. Those two cars dropped us about twenty seconds before I got the notification. How much you wanna bet they're off to help out loading or unloading something there … or providing escort."

"It's a good bet. But if they were Ring, how were they following so loosely before?"

"Dunno. I might have to sweep the Vic again."

"We should get to the storage place before they leave."

"Hold on there, speedy. I wouldn't leave a key tracker on the front entrance without having surveillance there too. Let me just check …" He paused, his fingers moving over the screen of a tablet he'd pulled from a case in the trunk, then, "damn it!"

"What?"

"Nothing. Things just got a little more complicated."

"What happened, Casey?"

Casey preceded his response with a growl. "I piggybacked the power from the building's security cameras for my own surveillance. I figured whoever was renting that one unit would just loop the security feeds or wipe the tapes when they showed up to get into the unit. I didn't think they'd cut the power for the cameras completely. We have no eyes over there at all now."

"Then let's go!"

"Umm, guys …" Both had completely forgotten about the Good Captain. "If you both don't mind, I'll just head back home. I'd rather not …"

Casey turned to Awesome with a smirk. "Devon, how do you feel about watching a movie?"


Chuck was clinging to his perch fifteen feet up an old oak, remembering that this wasn't how he'd planned his hangover recovery. Casey stood on the ground below, waiting … barely. They were hiding in a small cluster of trees behind a self-storage facility in Pasadena, just off the 210, watching the unit which they had identified months previously as belonging to a Ring cell. This cell had already suspiciously attracted the special attention of Shaw so the other members of the team had found it prudent to withhold any further intelligence on the cell from him, including this unit.

A moving truck, with ramp extended, and a tan Suburban were parked in front but the door to the unit was closed, presumably with Chuck's targets inside. Chuck took another look through Casey's binoculars wondering if he'd catch a view of any of the men before he and Casey had to go. They needed to sneak back to the cab and get to the movie theater where Awesome was babysitting Chuck's phone before the bug reset itself in about an hour and fifteen minutes, shutting off the cloned signal. They didn't want the tracking software recording Chuck's position as having jumped over ten miles in a second.

Come on, guys. What the hell are you doing in there? God … the fare for this cab is gonna break me.

Chuck made another visual perimeter check with the binoculars. He had spotted the maroon Impala earlier, slowly cruising the street in front of the storage facility but hadn't seen it in the last fifteen minutes. He guessed he and Casey were far enough from the street to avoid easy detection from that direction but both were worried about roving foot patrols. Whatever was going on was apparently important enough to warrant covert security.

A loud report from the storage unit caused Chuck to flatten himself against the branch, nearly throwing himself out of the tree. Sitting back up, he brought the binoculars to focus on the unit and saw four men standing around a large crate at the bottom of the truck's ramp. There were splintered timbers on the ground in front of the crate which one man was gesturing at wildly while another crossed to him and struck him in the face. The gesturing man went down, holding his nose while the other flexed his hand. Chuck's eyes became riveted on the palm of that hand, seeing a familiar mark: a criss-crossing burn scar.

Then the flashes came in quick succession as he saw the faces of the men around the crate. He had never experienced the disorienting flow of information while being so precariously perched and a panicky vertigo overtook him. He reached for the tree limb to steady himself but overcompensated and rocked sideways. The Intersect activated again and he twisted as he fell grabbing at the limb with his fingers. Catching hold, his body swung toward the tree's trunk and the impact drove the air out of him in a loud "oof".

Chuck dropped to the ground hearing shouts from the storage unit. Before he could recover Casey was in his face, hissing questions. Chuck could only answer, "Run!"

They took off sprinting towards a low wall bordering a back yard behind the storage facility. They vaulted the wall, running for the driveway beside the house. At the end of the driveway was a low gate topped with a row of decorative spikes. Both men hurdled this as well, Chuck's genetic contribution to the next generation momentarily in doubt.

Turning the corner onto the frontage road they raced east towards where they hoped the cab was still parked, one-hundred fifty yards down the road. They had made it only a block when Casey turned down a side street calling for Chuck to follow. Chuck turned with him, not understanding, then dove behind a parked car as Casey did the same. The sound of a racing engine coming up the frontage road was the only explanation Chuck needed.

Casey was in Chuck's face again. "Did they see you … the guys at the storage unit?"

"No. I fell before they knew I was up in the tree. I'm sure they heard me though."

"You fell? Moron! No wonder you made so much noise. How the hell did you fall when you'd been sitting up there for half an hour?"

"I'd like to see you flash and hold onto a tree branch at the same time."

"You flashed? You saw them?"

"Yeah. Casey, those men …"

"Hold on. Tell me later. Time to run!"

They returned to the frontage road, sprinting for the cab, hoping it hadn't left or been noticed. Chuck thanked his recent conditioning for even being able to keep up with Casey. They approached the block with the cab and Chuck began to feel they'd gotten away. Then he noticed the empty space where the cab had been.

"No!"

"Shit!"

Tires spun briefly behind them and they heard an engine approaching. They raced up a nearby driveway to find cover behind a parked car when they heard a shouting voice behind them.

"Hey! You think you can just ditch the fare?" It was the cabbie's voice.

Not even taking the time to laugh or be relieved both men turned on the spot and raced for the cab, opening the door and flattening themselves against the seats.

"What's going on? Are you guys in trouble? I don't want to be involved in trouble?"

Casey grumbled at the cabbie with a hint of menace. "What's happening is that you are making yourself an extra fifty-dollars on top of the tip the moron here already promised you. Now go!"

As before, the cabbie quickly became compliant getting them to Altadena and then to the 210, heading west. By some miracle they weren't followed and Casey blew out a sigh of relief.

In a low rumble he asked Chuck, "So, what did you see back there?"

Chuck responded with a whisper. "There were four guys trying to get a crate into the moving van. There were more crates in the unit. I think the one was really heavy because it splintered a piano dolly while they were trying to get it up the ramp. I'm pretty sure that's what that loud sound was. Also, They all had MP-5s, or something similar, and they weren't trying hard to conceal them."

"Hmm. Something valuable in those crates. So these guys were Ring too?"

Chuck was silent a moment. "One of them was the guy I found in my living room last night … the one that worked with Eve Shaw." Chuck paused seeing Casey's eyes grow wide. "Those two were part of Taproot, a nine-person team. Casey, there were four guys with the crate … and there were two men in the Impala."

"There were probably two more in the other chase car. That's eight plus …"

"Eve … makes nine. Yeah. And the Intersect identified all four of the guys with the crate and the one guy in the chase car as Ring."

"What the hell does that even mean?"

Chuck could only shake his head, the mystery far beyond anything he wanted to tackle at the moment.

All I wanted to do today was nurse a hangover.


A/N: Next up, a character reveals a hidden skill.