A/N: To a few of us here today, this is a solemn and most momentous occasion; and yet, in the history of fan fiction, it is a commonplace occurrence. The orderly borrowing of characters takes place as it has for a long time now, I guess, and few of us stop to think how unique we really are. But no matter how unique we are, I still don't own Chuck or Veronica Mars.


Chapter 9: Miscalculation

Sarah was nervous.

She knew all the reasons that she should expect Veronica's briefing to go smoothly, or at least as smoothly as could be expected given its rather unusual nature. The FBI agent was in a compound as secure as any in the United States – residual pride in her former agency compelled Sarah to list it even ahead of the exceptionally restricted Ft. Meade. She was talking privately with the most important and best-guarded person in that compound, in an office with a good number of hidden defensive measures known only to the Director. And Agent Mars could certainly take care of herself. All things considered, it was exceptionally unlikely that anything would go wrong. Chuck had given her a roughly estimated probability of success; it was well in excess of 99%. Although Sarah privately suspected that he'd just made that number up, she knew there was no real reason that anything bad should happen.

And she still worried. It probably had something to do with the fact that the last simple mission she'd worked had turned into a harrowing two-year babysitting job that had resulted in both her wedding and her self-exile from the CIA. After that, she knew she'd never trust another easy one.

In this case, however, there was another source for her discomfort. In the unlikely event that trouble did arise, the situation would become very bad very quickly. Veronica was working virtually unsupported – there just wasn't a good option for monitoring a meeting at Langley. The nearest gas station was over a mile away and on the opposite side from the main gate of the base. That was where Sarah and Chuck had set up, listening to the briefing in silence apart from the occasional comment on the tactical situation and Sarah's expression of thankfulness for Orion's work on the bug Veronica had carried in with her, which was currently slicing through the CIA's impressive jamming precautions.

The signal that came through was faint, but still clear enough that both of the listeners heard the office door open. Neither spoke a word, but Chuck's eyes widened in alarm.

"After all, this case could be sort of a turning point for inter-agency cooperation – a Fulcrum, if you will."

"Shit," Sarah breathed. She looked over to her companion, who was staring straight ahead with unfocused eyes, seemingly unresponsive to Veronica's obvious hint. "Chuck?"

The trademark thumps of hand-to-hand fighting sounded from the car's speakers, punctuated by a cry of distress from the FBI agent. "Now that we've dispensed with your inevitable futile escape attempt, Agent Mars," said the distinct voice of CIA Director Jodi Reed, "let's talk about what you really know, and who you're working with."

Still unspeaking, Chuck shifted the car into drive and calmly turned down the road to the main gate, picking up speed rapidly along the way. "Chuck, what are you doing?"

"We have to get her out, Sarah." He fishtailed the car into a sharp turn, pulling out of it perfectly.

Sarah recognized the technique from the CIA's driving course and quickly deduced the source of his newfound car-handling ability. She immediately attempted to dissuade him from his rash course of action. "We can't storm Langley, Chuck – especially since your driving flash will fully occupy the Intersect for the entire mission, which would leave me as the only available fighter. Even if we got inside, the Director knows multiple ways out that we'd be lucky to find. We could never cover all of them."

"Sarah, we let her down! I completely missed Reed as a suspect. We have to get her out," Chuck insisted.

"We will, Chuck," Sarah soothed. "We'll get her back. But we need to think."

Chuck's breathing gradually returned to normal. He swung the car into a leisurely U-turn and turned to face his wife. "Okay. Let's think."


Logan groaned in frustration. The two spies who were heatedly discussing rescue plans across the room had certainly earned his respect during the brief period of his acquaintance with them, but their considerable expertise didn't seem to be getting them anywhere. He'd kept his mouth shut to this point, but if they weren't making any progress without him saying anything…

"Is there another way we can approach this? Something besides a straight rescue?" he offered.

Chuck shook his head. "I don't think so."

Sarah paused. "Maybe." Seeing the eager looks on both men's faces, she immediately temporized. "You're not going to like it, Chuck."

"It has to be better than nothing, which is what we have so far," her husband replied.

Unable to argue with that, Sarah nodded. "The problem now is that we don't know where Veronica is, and any effort to find out is likely to tip off the people holding her. If we knew where she was being kept, it'd be doable."

"Right, but we don't have a way of finding out," Chuck observed.

"Not where they have Veronica, no…"

Chuck blinked. "No, Sarah."

She smiled sadly. "I told you you wouldn't like it."

He shook his head. "Me instead."

"Not a chance," she responded forcefully. "First, you're supposed to be dead. Second, the only way they'd take you is if we told them who you are. And we are NOT doing that."

Chuck's eyes softened, and his voice took on a pleading tone. "We'll find another way. We have to. Sarah…"

Logan once again found himself befuddled by the spy couple's apparent ability to seamlessly read each other's thoughts, and was forced to break into their discussion. "What's the idea?"

Sarah turned toward him. "A trade." She studiously ignored Chuck's wince. "We can't find Veronica – but we can find me, if we're smart."

"So what, you'll just call up the Director of the CIA, tell her who you are, and offer her a swap?"

"Pretty much."

Logan grinned. "You know her extension?"

"What kind of spies would we be if we couldn't find a phone number?" Sarah smiled in response.

"All right, so how do we find you?"

"A tracking device," Sarah explained.

"Won't they expect that?"

"That's why we double up. Let them find the first one."

"Triple," Chuck mumbled.

"What's that, honey?"

His eyes didn't leave the floor. "Triple. You're the great Sarah Walker, they'll expect a double. One in the watch, one sewn into your clothes."

"And the third?"

"Subcutaneous. Dad designed one that'll hold up for about a week. Transmits in very brief bursts – about one second total every half hour. Almost undetectable."


"Chuck, what's wrong?"

The rest of the day had been spent planning, covering every contingency any of them could think of. Logan had once again been surprisingly helpful, and Chuck had provided his usual supply of excellent ideas. But Sarah knew that something was off, and now that they were in bed for what could easily be their last night together for a while, she intended to find out what it was.

"Nothing, Sarah."

"I know you better than that. You didn't smile at all when you talked about the tracking implant. The only time you don't enjoy talking about gadgets is when something is bothering you." He didn't respond, so Sarah rolled toward him and wrapped an arm around his waist from behind. "Chuck, I'll be all right. They can't do anything too severe if they want me to be functional when I join their side."

He tensed slightly. "When you what?"

She chuckled. "What did you think we were offering them, exactly?"

"That, I guess," he answered, the frown evident in his voice. "It just bothers me, knowing that everyone at the CIA thinks of you like that."

"Like what?"

"Like someone who's turned on her country, betrayed the greater good, whatever. You know."

That drew a smile. "I don't care what they think. The only man whose opinion matters to me is lying next to me right now."

"Hmm," he murmured. "At least that gives me the chance to test out that new knife-fighting protocol we programmed for the Intersect."

"Chuck?" Sarah asked in confusion.

"You did mean that Bryce is back from the dead again, right?"

Sarah laughed and smacked his arm. "See what I meant about the gadgets? Only you could have your wife's ex show up and immediately think about a computer program. Sometimes I suspect you'd like me better if your dad had built me in his secret workshop."

"Hmm, there's a thought… hey!" Chuck rubbed his suddenly pained shoulder, then turned over to face Sarah. "I wouldn't worry about that. Dad's a genius, but he's never built anything that's close to being as perfect as you." He put up a hand to temporarily block Sarah's responding kiss. "I'm just worried I'll lose you, I guess."

She offered him a reassuring smile. "You know I'll be fine. I'm the one who should be worried about you, storming the castle and all."

"That's just it, though. You're counting on me to get you out. I've never done anything remotely like this on my own."

She realized that he was right – she'd accompanied him on each of their rare combat missions. Sarah hadn't even considered the stress Chuck would be experiencing. She remembered the desperation she'd felt her first time going after Chuck without government support, and how close she'd come to breaking down. And that was with a decade of experience in the CIA.

But she knew that the last thing Chuck needed at this point was to have his confidence shaken.

"Chuck, listen to me. There is nobody I would rather have coming in after me. Not Bryce, not Carina, not Cole, not Casey. The reason I'm not worried about this is that I know you won't let me down. You never have, and you never will. Got it?" He nodded. Sarah knew he was still nervous, but she could see a gleam of renewed confidence in his eyes. With his belief in himself reinforced, it was time to take his mind off of the situation. Her hand meandered down his chest, slid across his stomach, and continued southward. "Besides, you know if you don't get me out, I won't be around to do… this, any more." Sarah giggled as Chuck's eyes shot wide open in surprise and leaned in to kiss him.


"Yes, Gladys, who is it?"

"Not Gladys," an unfamiliar female voice replied.

Director Reed jumped. She'd been assured that this phone could only accept calls forwarded by her secretary, and the secretary always talked to her before transferring the call.

"How did you get this number?" The question didn't technically make sense, because there wasn't actually a number for this phone. But it got the point across.

"More easily than you'd expect, I imagine."

"I don't suppose you'd be interested in a job? Clearly the Science and Technology directorate could use you – they spent weeks making sure this phone couldn't receive calls like this one."

The voice was… amused? Almost proud, it seemed. "It's a tempting offer, but I've found CIA work dissatisfying in the past."

The director's mind ran through the list of known rogue agents, selecting those who were female, capable of something like this, and still alive. Only one name came to mind. "Sarah Walker. To what do I owe the dubious pleasure?"

"You've recently made the acquaintance of a friend of mine, an FBI agent."

A satisfied smile crossed Reed's face, as her guess that Mars wasn't working alone was confirmed. "And?"

"And I was wondering if maybe the three of us could have lunch some time soon. We seem to have a lot to talk about."

"I suspect that Agent Mars would rather get back to her family than waste time talking shop. But I'd be happy to meet with you in the meantime," Reed proposed.

"Oh, I suppose we could still find one or two things to discuss," the rogue agent replied dryly.

"Excellent. How about dinner, tomorrow at 8?"

"And Agent Mars? It would be reassuring if you could tell me where she'll be dropped off."

"How does Economy Parking at Richmond International Airport sound? I don't expect her to have any trouble getting home from there."

"That should do nicely." Reed noted that the other woman was smart enough to realize that it would be her responsibility to ensure Mars's safety after the swap, and thus did not insist that the FBI agent not be harmed. But then, Sarah Walker always had known how the game was played. It was going to be a pleasure to match wits with one of the best.

The CIA director gave her rival the proper directions to the next day's meeting point before closing her end of the conversation by saying, "I look forward to meeting you tomorrow, Agent Walker."

"Likewise."

Both parties hung up with the same thought in mind: Jackpot.


Sarah started slightly at the ring of the pay phone by the bench where she'd been instructed to wait. "Hello?"

"Good evening, Sarah. Agent Mars will be delivered shortly. Once you've verified her safety, please walk into the Arby's across the street."

"What makes you think I have some way to check on Agent Mars?"

The voice on the other end of the phone laughed. "Please, Agent Walker. There's no need to be coy. We're all professionals here, and we all know how this works."

She hung up. "Get that, sweetie?"

"Yeah, I got it," Chuck's voice responded through the tiny two-way audio transmitter in her ear. "And… she's here."

"Great," Sarah smiled. "You want me to wait until you have her?"

"No, I think we should be all right. Everything good on your end?"

"As good as it can be," she confirmed. "Chuck?"

"Yeah, Sarah?"

"Love you."

"I love you too."

"See you soon."

"I hope so." Sarah could hear the strain in his voice.

"I know so," she replied with conviction. Hearing no response, she removed the radio, dropped it on the sidewalk, and crushed it.


"I know so." Chuck wiped a small tear from his cheek, removed his earbud, and turned his attentions back to the wrist computer. Having verified Veronica's arrival in Economy Lot A by way of the airport's security feeds, he stood from his seat in the baggage claim area of the airport and boarded the proper shuttle. As the bulky transport made its way toward the parking lot, Chuck thought over his exit plan once more. Sarah's voice drifted into his mind.

There's a good chance that whoever drops her off will want to keep an eye on you – they may even consider attacking right away. The most likely point for them to pick you up is the entrance or exit for whichever lot they leave her in.

Chuck had placed a rental car in each of the three economy lots hours earlier and waited at the airport itself for Veronica's arrival. Entry to the requisite lot would be accomplished easily, thanks to the shuttle. Exiting without drawing attention from either the watchers or any innocent bystanders would be a bit trickier.

"Honey!" he cried as he dismounted from the shuttle, carrying an overnight bag. "It's so great to see you!"

The diminutive FBI agent caught on quickly. "You too, sweetie. I missed you so much, I just had to meet you here."

"How were my parents? They didn't torture you too much, did they?"

Veronica picked up the double meaning and answered in kind. "No more than the usual questions – you know, when we're getting married, what my plans are for the future. I'm fine." She wrapped him in a loose hug and leaned up to whisper in his ear. "What's the deal?"

"You're sprung, sweetheart. Isn't that what matters?" he breathed into her ear as he led her toward a car. She studied him carefully as they drove toward the gate.

"Chuck? This is the shuttles only exit."

"What makes you think that?"

"The sign that says 'Shuttles only.'"

He smiled as he pressed a few buttons on the wrist computer and the gate opened. "They don't really mean that. What they're really saying is 'Shuttles only, unless you stole the frequency pattern needed to open the gate as you rode into the airport earlier today.'"

"I'm sure."

"Hey, would you write all that out on that little sign, when the difference doesn't even matter to anyone who's not a wizard with electronics?"

"Probably not," Veronica admitted with a chuckle. She watched as his smile slowly faded. "Chuck. Where's Sarah?"

He stared straight ahead. "You and Logan, you should get back to California. Reed and her people might still go after you, depending on… anyway, Logan knows how to avoid people. If you let him, he'll take care of you. And I'll do my best to keep an eye on you whenever possible."

"Chuck," she said insistently.

He sighed. "She traded herself for you."

"WHAT!"

Chuck cringed. "Not my idea."

"That's not what I meant! You were going to let her do that, and keep me from helping you get her back?"

The car swerved slightly as Chuck's arm absorbed a punch from his passenger. "Huh? Veronica, I don't expect you to…"

"Well I expect me to," she cut him off angrily. "You don't think having a second Intersect along might help?"

"Of course it would help. It's just… we let you down, not catching Reed as a possible suspect. I don't want to put you in danger again."

The FBI agent snorted disdainfully. "Please. I'm the one who proposed the very domestic highschool friendship motive for a murder we already knew was being covered up in decidedly non-domestic fashion. And I'm the one who completely missed the fact that Reed and Beckman were the two candidates to be named DNI – which is the motive, by the way. A trained FBI investigator makes two enormous mistakes like that, she deserves whatever happens to her."

"I don't want you to feel obligated…" Chuck tried one more time to dissuade her.

"Tough crap. You try to go alone, I'll follow you. Might work better if we actually plan for two people."

Chuck sighed, but a hesitant smile crossed his face. "Fine. Let's get our rescue on."


Sarah walked into the restaurant and was escorted to a table by a pair of formidably large men. She sat down across from the CIA director.

"I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty of ordering for you. Ham and Swiss all right?"

Sarah rolled her eyes. "I'm not especially hungry at the moment." The two women sat in silence that remained unbroken until the Director's phone buzzed. She answered and wordlessly listened to the caller's report.

"Interesting," she said after hanging up. "Apparently Agent Mars was met by someone coming from the terminal and spirited out of the lot without using the exit."

Sarah kept her expression carefully neutral. "She's very resourceful."

"I suspect she's not the only one," replied Reed, sliding out of the booth. "Anyway, I'm done here if you are. Shall we?"

Sarah was directed toward a nondescript van, allowing herself a small grin as she remembered Casey's occasional complaints about the fondness villains held for this type of vehicle. Once she was inside, her hands were cuffed, and she patiently waited for the inevitable scan for tracking devices.

It never happened. The van pulled out of the lot and ambled down the road, and the two guards sat just far enough from Sarah that she couldn't reach them with a kick before they'd be able to draw their guns. Everything was being done professionally, except for the lack of a scan.

With a muffled gasp, Sarah realized that it was intentional. They knew someone skilled had picked up Veronica from the airport, and they were expecting that person to come after her.

Chuck was walking into a trap.