Chapter 11: The Rival Part 1

Nevada, Las Vegas, Four Seasons Hotel, October 19th, 2007

"Wow. A luxury hotel." Chuck was craning his neck as they climbed out of the cab in front of the hotel. "The… your employer doesn't skimp, does he?"

Sarah chuckled. "We've got a generous expense account." And she had a number of favours owed to her as well. "A weekend in a five-star hotel isn't nearly as expensive as a rental car totalled during a chase," she added with a grin.

"Ah… sorry about that? It wasn't actually my fault."

"Speaking of," she said as they entered the lobby and walked past a sculpture that reached from the floor to the ceiling, "was Dr Zarnov, ah, turned by Melvin Smith?"

"You know about Melvin?" He looked surprised. "Phil and Caridad have been hunting him for a while. He's an older vampire running a drug smuggling ring. I didn't know he had turned the doctor. But it would fit his modus operandi - he usually tries to turn older people to use them as drug mules. Preferably those who won't be missed for three days so they can avoid raising suspicions."

Checking in didn't take much time; Sarah had arranged for a one-bedroom suite with a view of the strip in advance. Since there was another couple in the lift with them - freshly married, Sarah noted; the husband was carrying the certificate out in the open - they didn't talk shop until they reached their suite. And until she had scanned for bugs, of course.

"Wow!" Chuck repeated himself. "That's great! The view, the spacious suite, the… single bed." He coughed.

"Maintaining our cover," Sarah told him with a neutral expression. "That won't be a problem, right?"

He shook his head. "Of course not. Just like on a mission."

"Exactly." She nodded. The bed was bigger, though, so she wouldn't find herself all over Chuck in the morning.

"So… There are vampire drug smuggling rings?" she asked after a moment of mutual silence.

"Well, not many. The Council's cracking down hard on that - no wants demons to have a horde of humans as customers and minions. But Melvin had experience when he was turned, and he kept going. Caridad almost had him a few times, but he keeps escaping." Chuck frowned. "He's no master vampire and not even particularly strong, but he's good at getting away."

"Could he have contacts to spies?" she asked as she started to unpack and stash her clothes in the wardrobe, noting how Chuck's eyes widened a little at the lingerie on display.

"Uh… I don't know. I didn't flash on anything related to him."

She turned her head to stare at him. "Did Caridad ask you to use your special talent for them?"

"Uh… Not directly?" He grimaced. "I mean, even before I was, well, you know, she asked me for advice or came by to tell me about her day."

Sarah pressed her lips together. Of course, the girl would do that! "But she didn't bring pictures, did she?"

"Not after Ellie saw the one of that gang massacre in 2005 before dinner."

"And she started bringing you pictures recently," Sarah said.

"Yes. Do you… oh." He blinked. "That's…" He looked puzzled. "What exactly is that?"

"It's a security breach," Sarah told him.

"Uh… technically, anything I would flash on wouldn't be supposed to be in the, you know."

She glared at him.

"Sorry," he said. "But I didn't actually flash on anything other than Melvin. And, hey - vampire drug lord? That's of the bad."

"'Of the bad'?" She raised her eyebrows at him.

"Sorry. I lost most of my Sunnydale-isms at Stanford, but sometimes, they return."

She wasn't about to ask about 'Sunnydale-isms'.

"Anyway - I can't exactly tell the general and the director that I'm helping to track down vampires, can I?"

Sarah sighed. No, he couldn't. And neither could she. But she still didn't like it.

By the time they hit the pool before dinner - it was a warm day in Las Vegas - Sarah had adjusted. It wasn't Chuck's fault. He couldn't control his flashes, after all. No, it was clearly Caridad's fault, for both exploiting Chuck and trying to force him into the Council for her own selfish reasons.

Sarah wouldn't let that happen, of course. Chuck deserved to choose his own future. She closed her eyes and turned her face to the sun for a moment, then let her bathrobe slide off and fall on the chaise lounge next to her. She heard Chuck's sudden deep breath, of course, but acted as if she hadn't noticed his reaction to her bikini. "Come on, let's take a swim!" she told him with a smile, then jumped into the water.

"Uh, sure, sure."

She didn't kiss him, but after their hour at the pool, anyone spying on them wouldn't suspect that they were anything but a couple. At least in her opinion.

Nevada, Las Vegas, Four Seasons Hotel, October 20th, 2007

Sarah woke up with her head on a warm but not quite as soft as expected pillow. Her arms were wrapped around a warm body, her leg draped over someone else's leg, and her knee touching… She blinked and drew a hissing breath. She had done it again. Even though she had taken care to fall asleep on the far end of her half of the bed. As had Chuck - and he hadn't moved far, she could see with a glance to his side.

And, she realised with a sinking feeling, he was already awake.

"Uh… morning?" He smiled at her, but he looked quite embarrassed.

"Morning," she said as she withdrew her leg, wishing she had opted for pyjamas last night, not a camisole and shorts. She felt herself starting to blush and clamped down on her reaction. "It seems I'm moving in my sleep," she said, as nonchalantly as she could manage.

"Uh, I concur," he said. Then he cleared his throat.

And she realised that her upper body was still draped halfway over his chest.

"So, what do you have planned for today?" Chuck asked at breakfast. Neither of them was talking about the morning.

Sarah took a sip from her coffee before answering. "I thought a trip down the strip in the afternoon, buy a few souvenirs, see the sights - act like tourists. Afterwards, it's the pool again, a little gambling, then a nightclub."

"Responsible tourists then," Chuck said, nodding.

More or less responsible, Sarah thought. They hadn't gambled much last evening - just enough to mark off the obligatory box on their 'Las Vegas bucket list', as Chuck called it. They hadn't drunk too much either. But she still had ended up all over Chuck. Out loud, she said: "Wouldn't want Ellie to think that I'm a bad influence on you."

He chuckled. "Oh, she wouldn't think that even if you made me lose all the travelling money at the tables. Well, perhaps she would. But a little gambling? She'd be thrilled that I'm 'socialising' instead of 'wasting away playing video games', as she calls it. Even though I told her often that online games are very social - you can't win in Battlefield unless you've got a good team, and that takes a lot of work with the usual players… And I'm rambling, aren't I?"

She shook her head but couldn't help smiling at him.

He sighed with a wry grin and refilled his own cup. "Sorry. Computer games are sort of a passion for me. We were planning to make our game, actually, at Stanford, before…"

She saw him press his lips together and frown. That meant he had been about to talk about Bryce. But she didn't remember Bryce mentioning video games at all. And yet, he had used a line from a game to contact Chuck when he sent him the Intersect. Had that been an act? Or had Bryce's relationship with her been an act? Had he become a CIA agent to betray the agency from the start? As he had betrayed Chuck?

"Sorry," Chuck said. "Bad memories."

"I understand," she replied. "But we shouldn't let that ruin our vacation."

He laughed, once. "It's almost like we're a real couple on vacation, you know?"

Almost, yes. She forced herself to smile and nod.

California, Los Angeles, Echo Park, October 21st, 2007

"Chuck! Sarah! You're back! How was your trip?" Ellie greeted them at the entrance to the shared yard.

"It was great," Chuck said. "We took a lot of pictures. And…" He stuck his hand into the large bag he carried, and pulled out a teddy bear in doctor's clothes, with a stethoscope. "...here's a souvenir for you!"

"Oh, it's cute!" Ellie said. "Thank you!"

Sarah thought it was tacky, but tastes obviously differed.

"Did you win big?" Devon, appearing behind Ellie, asked with his habitual grin.

"We didn't lose more than we had budgeted," Chuck replied. "It's not about winning, anyway, but about playing."

"Oh, you wouldn't say that if you had won," Devon said.

"Think of gambling like it were a type of extreme sports," Chuck shot back. "If you survive and had fun, it was worth the money."

Devon blinked, then nodded. "Right. You didn't go and got married, did you?"

"No, we didn't," Sarah told him with a toothy smile.

But he didn't seem to mind. He wrapped his arms around Ellie's waist from behind her and told her: See? There was no reason to worry. They won't tie the knot without us."

"I wasn't worried," Ellie said. "I was joking."

"Aaa-nyway," Chuck cut in. "We had a long drive, and we have work tomorrow, so we better go home and get some sleep."

"I bet they didn't get much actual sleep in Vegas," Devon said with a grin.

Chuck cleared his throat. "Uh… good night."

They walked over to the main entrance to Chuck's apartment while Devon laughed and Ellie scolded him.

"Sorry about that," Chuck said as they were out of earshot. "I didn't think Devon would be like that."

"It's no problem," Sarah said. Even though Ellie's friend had been correct, in a way - Sarah hadn't slept as much as she should have, last night, trying to avoid ending up hugging Chuck again in her sleep. Trying and failing.

"So…" Chuck was fidgeting, she noticed. "I guess there's no need for PDAs if no one can see us."

Ah. She nodded. "No, there isn't." Need? No. Desire? She pushed the thought away.

"So…" He cleared his throat. "Thank you for a marvellous vacation. Even if it was a lie, I enjoyed it very much."

So did she. "Well…" She licked her lips. "The truth is, I did…" The door behind Chuck started to open, and she quickly moved forward, pushing Chuck to the side as she drew her knife. It could be Casey, of course, but if it wasn't…

It wasn't. It was Bryce. Bryce Larkin. But he was dead.

"Sarah?" Bryce asked. "Chuck?"

Sarah's vial of holy water splashed into Bryce's face a moment before Chuck's did.

Bryce recoiled, sputtering, and Sarah charged forward, dropping into a crouch and sweeping his feet out from under him before he recovered, then drew her stake from her boot holster and jumped, landing on his chest with her knees pinning his arms.

"Listen! Stop! I'm not a traitor!"

His skin wasn't melting from the holy water, but that didn't mean anything. But it meant the stake wouldn't work, as far as she knew. She dropped it and drew a throwing spike, which she held against his throat.

"Not a vamp," Chuck said, and she heard the door close behind them. "But he could be a zombie."

"How do we kill a zombie?" she asked.

"Zombie? Chuck! Sarah! It's me, Bryce!"

He didn't look scared. Not even when the point of her spike pierced his skin and drew blood.

"Bryce's dead," Sarah said. "Casey shot him." His death had been confirmed.

"To kill a zombie… not holy water. Salt? No, no. Lemme check Morgan's notes…"

Sarah glanced at Chuck. He was scrolling through something on his phone.

"Ah! Beheading should work unless he was animated by a cursed mask… no, beheading still should work… Or fire. Or we can feed him to a werewolf, although other animals would probably work as well…"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Bryce said. "Look, if you're trying to scare me, it's not working. You would never kill me."

Sarah couldn't tell whom Bryce was addressing - her or Chuck.

"Bryce is dead," she repeated herself. This wasn't Bryce. Just a demon or other monster in his skin.

"I was declared dead by a traitor in the CIA's clinic," he said. "He stabilised me and smuggled me out."

"You are a traitor," she told him.

"No, I'm a double agent - I infiltrated a spy ring. Fulcrum." He turned his head to look at Chuck, which drew a little more blood. "Once I was healed up, I escaped."

Did zombies bleed? She could feel his body heat. Not a vamp. Probably not a walking corpse either.

"Chuck, did you get the Intersect? Did you remember the password?"

"The Intersect you stole," she snapped with a snarl before Chuck could answer.

"I saved it," he retorted. "Fulcrum wanted me to steal it or destroy it - they knew if the agency could use it, they would be exposed."

"Really?" She had heard better excuses from rookies. "And you couldn't tell the director?"

He frowned - as she had known he would. He had never been as close to the director as she was.

She scoffed. "And, of course, you were on an unsanctioned undercover mission because you couldn't trust anyone."

She saw his jaw muscles tense as he clenched his teeth. "Yes, exactly," he spat. "I needed to find out who's leading Fulcrum. And who they've got turned in the agency. The fact that I was declared dead proves that you can't trust anyone."

"Not even me, hm?" She glared at him, and he had the decency to flush a little.

"I didn't want to implicate you - not with your past."

"How noble of you!" She scoffed again. "Did you ever consider that I would be a suspect anyway?"

"You were innocent, though, and the director would protect you."

"So you think he can be trusted," she shot back.

"Even if he were a traitor he'd protect you to keep his cover."

"He'd sacrifice me to protect you." That was how the game was being played.

"No." he started to shake his head, but she still had her throwing spike at his throat. "I told them I was recruiting you."

He had… She pressed her lips together. "To protect me, huh? Instead of telling me."

He stared at her.

"Uh…" Chuck cleared his throat. "This sounds rather personal."

"It is," Bryce told him.

"Not any more," Sarah said at the same time.

Chuck blinked. "Wait! You… and him?"

Sarah winced. Of course - Chuck's girlfriend had dumped him for Bryce. "We broke up," she said. "Before he went traitor."

"But you still love me," Bryce said. "I know."

"No." She refrained from punching him.

"Can we get back to the Intersect? And the whole Fulcrum thing?" Chuck said. He almost sounded as if he were pleading.

"I sent it to you since you were the only one I could trust," Bryce said. He noticed her glare, and quickly added: "I mean… you weren't under surveillance, and you were no spy."

"And you led spies directly to him," Sarah said. What if this 'Fulcrum', if it actually existed, had found Chuck first? Before they managed to purge the data trail?

He shrugged. Carefully. "I didn't have many other options," Bryce said.

"Thanks a lot," Chuck said with a deep frown. "But we still don't know if we can trust you."

"Just use the Intersect. You can prove that I'm telling the truth. Check on Dr Mulligan," Bryce replied.

"Uh… I guess that would work." Chuck nodded, slowly.

"So… can I get up?" Bryce flashed that smile of his at her that she knew so well. "I'll behave, I promise."

She cuffed him, then cuffed his hands. They'd sort this out at the base, not in Chuck's apartment. Which now needed to be thoroughly searched for any 'surprises' Bryce might have left.

California, Burbank, Wienerlicious, October 21st, 2007

"Hi, Sarah."

"Hi, Chuck."

Sarah turned to grab their usual drinks - break beverages, as Chuck had called them once - from the fridge before things could turn awkward. More awkward, at least.

She looked through the window as she sat down but couldn't see anyone else headed their way.

"Morgan's busy," Chuck said.

"Ah." Had Chuck arranged that as assistant manager?

After a moment during which both of them took a swallow from their drinks, Chuck cleared his throat. "So, uh… since I had to stay at home in case Ellie wanted to visit and talk about my trip - which, incidentally, she totally did - what's the news about… Bryce?"

"His DNA is being tested in a secure lab," she told him. "He's being held in a cell in the base until his identity and story can be verified."

"I guess that's where I come in, huh?"

"Yes. The Intersect should be able to confirm his claims."

He sighed.

"That wasn't what you wanted to talk about, was it?"

"No, it wasn't." He looked at her and sighed again. "Why didn't you tell me that you were with Bryce?"

Ah. "I didn't tell you about any of my past relationships."

He frowned at her. "I think the fact that you had a relationship with my former best friend who betrayed me and had me expelled from Stanford would have been relevant."

"We had broken up, and I thought that he was dead."

"Still…" He had a mulish expression. "It's not like he's just a random spy. He was my best friend and your boyfriend. And you knew that, but didn't tell me."

"Yes." There was no point in or need to deny it.

"Why?"

"It would have complicated things," she said. "You wouldn't have trusted us."

"I'm not feeling overly trusting right now," he said.

Of course, he wasn't. "What does this change, Chuck?"

"Everything!" he blurted out. "That you, and him… How could you expect me to not care about this? How can I trust you?"

"Because my - or your - past relationships don't matter for the mission," she said, then had to force herself not to wince at his expression.

He opened his mouth, then closed it and took a deep breath. "It's just a cover."

"Yes." It had to be just a cover.

Neither of them said anything else until his break was over.

"Dr Albert Mulligan. Joined the CIA in 1995 for a special project." Chuck blinked at the picture. Several times. "Has been receiving substantial payments to an account on the Virgin Islands since 2001 - and the death rate of his patients has been five per cent lower before that date."

"He's killing agents of us!" Casey snarled.

"Only a few, though - few enough so it wouldn't appear suspicious," Sarah agreed. Without the payments correlating with the change in death rates, it wouldn't have been caught.

"So… Bryce told the truth?" Chuck asked.

The general on the screen answered that. "It strongly indicates that one of his claims is correct. But that doesn't mean that all of his claims are true."

"What about the facility from which he escaped?" Sarah asked.

"We're gathering a force of trusted agents to raid it," the general replied.

"NSA agents, of course," Casey said with a toothy grin.

"Should I check them as well?" Chuck asked. "Just in case this 'Fulcrum' isn't limited to the CIA.

"That's a good idea," the director said. "Better safe than sorry."

Chuck nodded. "Thank you, sir."

Sarah smiled at him, but he looked away. She focused on the others again. This wouldn't affect the mission.

"Jack Malvier… he's married and has a lover. Frank Kelly. His neighbour." Chuck shook his head. "That's all I got. Sorry"

Judging by Casey's and the general's expressions, it was too much already. Two agents with secrets that might make them vulnerable to extortion wasn't a good result.

"And we cannot assume that the other agents are clean," the director pointed out. "Mr Bartowski's results are dependable as far as positives are concerned, but not with regards to negatives."

"Uh?" Chuck blinked. "Ah, yes." He nodded. "I can't control on what I flash. With Mr Malvier, it was the wedding ring that triggered me. If his hand hadn't been in the picture, I wouldn't have flashed. I think."

"That's… not ideal," the general said.

"It's still one of the best tools for our agencies," Sarah said. "Especially in the field."

"But it means," the director smoothly cut in, "that we cannot simply run all our agents past Mr Bartowski to vet them. We will have to resort to more conventional means."

And if Fulcrum was as powerful as Bryce claimed, then they couldn't trust anyone while they hunted for those traitors. Protecting Chuck was even more important now. "Does that mean that we will be sent to investigate the facility Bryce mentioned?" she asked.

"Yes," the director said with a faint smile. "You are our best asset in the current situation."

"We'll be sending you the latest intel we have on the facility," the general said. "Good evening, Agents, Mr Bartowski."

And the screen went black.

"So… uh… road trip?" Chuck asked.

Casey scoffed. "Road trip? We've got two spies to infiltrate a facility housing dozens of traitors."

"You've got me!" Chuck said, raising his hand. "And the Intersect."

Casey's glare made him flinch, Sarah noticed. "They have to be aware of Bryce's defection," she said. "And they might have evacuated the place."

"Turned it into a trap, more likely," Casey spat. "If Larkin's not behind it from the start."

"He could have ambushed us in my home," Chuck said. "Which, just pointing out, he obviously was able to enter without being detected."

Casey gritted his teeth, Sarah saw. She couldn't resist tweaking the agent's pride a little more. "Bryce stole the Intersect in the first place. He's a very talented infiltrator."

But now both Chuck and Casey were frowning. She winced - she should have known better than to mention Bryce at all.

California, Los Angeles, Echo Park, October 21st, 2007

"So… another trip?" Chuck said as they reached the door to his home. "What's the cover story for Ellie?"

"We're travelling to the East Coast to meet some of my old friends," Sarah told him.

"Ah. Good cover." He nodded - rather curtly. "And, will we actually meet them?"

She refrained from frowning. "No." All her friends were spies, and even if they were not on an assignment, she wouldn't present Chuck to them - that would endanger him.

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. After a moment, he said: "So… if Bryce turns out to be innocent, will you two…"

"We didn't break up because I thought he was a traitor," she told him. If she had thought that, she would have taken him down.

"Ah." Was that a smile on his face? It vanished too quickly to tell. "I just thought… he's a spy as well, he'd know about maintaining cover and all…"

And he'd be away on a mission most of the time. Well, once they were done with Fulcrum. "I don't pick a boyfriend according to who's the most convenient," she told him. That wasn't how it worked.

"Ah." He nodded. "But you avoid picking a boyfriend if they were inconvenient?"

Of course, he'd go there. "I wouldn't let it endanger a mission," she said. "That leads to dead spies."

"Oh. That's, uh, logical."

And feelings were rarely logical. She didn't say that, of course - she merely nodded. "We need to tell your family that we'll be going on another trip."

"First Vegas, now your friends? Ellie will suspect we'll be announcing our engagement soon." He shook his head, then frowned. "We wouldn't get engaged for our cover, would we?"

Spies had married for their mission. But she shook her head. "No, we won't. No worry."

"Good." He smiled. "That would be going a little too far, right?"

"Yes."

They stared at each other for a moment. "Uh, so, let's tell Ellie?" he asked with a weak smile.

"Let's."

California, Los Angeles, Glendale, October 22nd, 2007

Sarah was still feeling slightly exasperated when she reached her apartment. Ellie had reacted just as Chuck had predicted. Well, she hadn't openly asked about an engagement, but her expectations had been made clear if you could read between the lines. Which Sarah could.

Locking her car, she sighed. It was just maintaining her cover. Their cover. Or it should be. But Chuck certainly wasn't behaving as if it were just a cover - if he were, he'd be a better actor than most trained spies she knew.

And - she gritted her teeth for a moment - she wasn't as distant and professional as she should be, either. Something she would have to correct.

Together with her obvious lack of attention, she thought as she saw the figure leaning against the wall next to the lift in the garage. Caridad.

"I've heard about your trip," the Slayer said.

"It's a mission," she replied, rolling her eyes. So much for operational security! Of course, she should have expected this anyway, seeing as the girl was all but stalking Chuck.

Caridad scoffed. "Chuck shouldn't be on a mission. He's no spy."

"He's no Watcher either," Sarah shot back.

Caridad glared at her - point, Sarah through. "Not all Watchers work in the field."

"And you think Chuck would stay at home if he were your Watcher? He'd be right there with you." He certainly didn't listen well when she told him to stay back.

"Demons don't carry guns. I can protect him easily."

"You should never underestimate the enemy," Sarah told the arrogant girl. "If you do, people tend to die."

Caridad sneered. "I'm not underestimating anyone," she spat. "If anything happens to Chuck, I'll hold you responsible."

Sarah nodded in response, then had to suppress a smirk when she saw the girl scowling before she pushed off the wall and strode past Sarah. Or stalked - Caridad didn't move like a normal human right then. She moved like a big cat.

Sarah refused to feel intimidated. She had faced down spies, drug lords and mob men. So she held eye contact until Caridad was past her.

But before she could enter the lift, Caridad called out over her shoulder: "And I know what you're planning! It won't work! Chuck knows you're just an undercover spy!"

She couldn't resist. Sarah turned slightly, smirked, and replied: "Exactly."

She was still smiling at the furious expression on the girl's face when she reached her floor.

Virginia, Dale City, October 23rd, 2007

"So, that's the spy clinic?" Chuck asked, craning his neck a little as he shifted around on his seat in their SUV. "It' looks like just another doctor's practice in suburbia."

"Of course it wouldn't look like a clinic. These guys aren't amateurs," Casey snapped without lowering his binoculars. "That is, unless Larkin's been lying to lure us into a trap."

"Even if he told us the truth it could still be a trap - Fulcrum has to have realised that he betrayed them after he escaped from here," Sarah pointed out.

"So… it's a trap either way?" Chuck asked.

"Didn't you listen? Of course, it's a trap," Casey replied.

"I was just wondering why we are planning to enter an obvious trap," Chuck said.

"Always assume it's a trap, Bartowski. You'll live a little longer that way."

"How comforting," Chuck shot back. He was making progress.

"I'm not here to hold your hand. I'll leave that to Walker," Casey grumbled.

Sarah ignored the dig. And how Chuck flinched. "I don't see obvious guards at the practice," she said.

"The mechanics at the garage next door, where the secret entrance for cars is located, will be spies," Casey said.

"Can I take a look?" Chuck asked.

Sarah handed him her binoculars. After a moment looking at the garage, Chuck froze. "Michele Gambione and Luigi O'Malley. Mob hit men, originally from New York."

"They outsourced their hits?" Casey asked in a tone that left no doubt how pathetic he thought that was.

"They specialise in explosives," Chuck said.

"Whole thing rigged to blow, then," Casey said. "Do you know how to disarm the bomb?"

"I don't even know if there is a bomb!" Chuck blurted out.

"Well, looks like we need to ask the two scumbags, then." Casey grinned. "You up for it, Walker?"

Of course, she was. She was a trained spy.

"Walker. I'm approaching the targets," Sarah whispered into the concealed microphone in her jacket's collar as she drove the SUV towards the garage.

"Uh, roger," Chuck replied. "Good luck."

"Cut the chatter, Bartowski."

She smiled for a moment before pulling up at the garage, parking next to a hedge that would hide the car from neighbours and the street. Showtime. She saw Gambione get from where he had been working - or faking it - on a station car. O'Malley stayed on the other side of the car's front, though - the engine block would provide him with good cover in a firefight.

She got out of the car and beamed at Gambione as if she were a cheerleader turned trophy wife. "Hi! My car's making a funny noise. Could you take a look? I have to get the kids from soccer training."

Gambione smiled in a rather condescending way. "Well, I can take a look, but no promises that we can fix it today."

She gasped. "But… Steven's working late, and he has the other car!"

"We'll see what we can do, Ma'am."

She stepped next to the hood and bent slightly over to pull the hood up, drawing both men's attention to her - and away from the hedge behind O'Malley through which Casey was moving.

"Well, let's take a look at the engine," Gambione said as he bent over.

Sarah waited a moment longer - until Casey was in position - then slammed the hood down on the mobster, smashing his face into the engine. Before he could recover, she released the hood, pulled him back and hit him in the solar plexus, doubling him over. A knee to the face finished him off.

Casey had had even less trouble with O'Malley. The man hadn't even managed to draw his gun before he had been knocked out.

Amateurs.

Half a minute later, both men were tied up in the car, and they were driving away to pick up Chuck.

Virginia, Lake Ridge, October 23rd, 2007

"Uh… Casey isn't going to torture them, right?"

Standing at the window of the living room in the safe house the agency had prepared for them, Sarah stopped watching the street outside for threats and turned to face Chuck. He looked as uncomfortable as he had sounded.

"He's interrogating them," she told him, "and torture isn't a good method to gain dependable intel." There were some exceptions, of course. Like when you could verify the information during the interrogation.

He cleared his throat. "Uh, I can't help but noticing that this wasn't actually a denial."

She pressed her lips together and refrained from saying anything about 'enhanced interrogation'. Chuck was too smart to believe that. But his pained expression… "I don't think he'll do worse than what Caridad does to demons."

He blinked, then frowned at her. "That's different! Those are demons!"

"And half-demons?"

He flinched at that.

After a moment, she nodded and went back to watching the street. He didn't get to play the moral high ground card.

Twenty minutes of increasingly uncomfortable silence later, Casey joined them in the living room. "They've rigged the place to blow, as we suspected." He was drying his hands with a towel, Sarah noticed. And, as his queasy expression revealed, so did Chuck. Casey grinned. "They think it's just a lesson for someone who angered a capo. Idiots didn't want to know more. No check-ins, no passwords - they were just waiting for someone to enter." He shook his head. "Amateurs."

"I thought they were professional hitmen?" Chuck said.

"They're amateurs compared to spies," Casey explained.

"Ah." Chuck's smile was forced.

Sarah stepped up. "You know how to defuse the charges."

"Of course." Casey scoffed. "I wouldn't set foot into the clinic otherwise."

That was good enough for her. "Let's go then."

Virginia, Dale City, October 23rd, 2007

They approached the garage from the back this time - and after the sun had gone down. It wouldn't hinder anyone with night vision gear, but it would help with preventing civilians from spoiling the mission. Any experienced spy knew the story of the Mossad operation in Switzerland that had been foiled by the police because the spies had kept the engine of their van running, which had been reported by an old woman.

Casey was in the lead, crawling through the bushes up to the hedge. He probably had nostalgic flashbacks to boot camp, Sarah thought. But where he passed, Chuck would pass as well without getting stuck. Not more than once, at least.

She pushed herself through the hole Casey had cut into the hedge and the chain-link fence hidden inside it and turned to help Chuck through. He smiled in return and mouthed 'thanks' at her. Nothing like a hundred yards crawl through bushes to cut a male ego down to size.

Meanwhile, Casey had been working on the back door, and he finished picking the lock just as they reached him. They exchanged a glance, then he went in first, pistol drawn. She followed, covering him.

They did a sweep through the garage and the office. No one present. That didn't mean that approaching the secret entrance in the storage room was safe, of course. "Two concealed cameras," she reported after a quick check.

"Should have another inside the storage room," Casey added.

"CIA-security integrated camera circuit," Chuck said, still blinking.

The same cameras their own base in Burbank had." Sarah pressed her lips together. Another sign that this was the work of traitors. On the other hand, she knew exactly how those cameras worked. And how she could disable them.

Ten minutes and some hacking later, they were going down the stairs hidden beneath the storage room.

"This looks like the base in Burbank," Chuck said as they reached the next door. "Retinal scanner and all."

He hadn't flashed, Sarah noted.

"Yes, genius." Casey scoffed. "Let's get through it."

Disabling the door's security took another ten minutes. Sarah took a deep breath and looked at Casey. At his nod, she opened the door and went in low, gun out. An empty corridor with half a dozen doors greeted her. And a strong smell of disinfectant - the same brand used in clinics.

"Uh… I can't help noticing that it took you less than half an hour to get through the same security we have at home," Chuck commented as they proceeded down the corridor. "And since the bad guys are spies as well… uh, shouldn't we be concerned about this?"

"Not in the middle of a mission," Casey snapped as he pushed open the first door. Hospital bed with all extras. Including straps to tie someone to the bed.

A few such rooms later, they found the operating room. And Chuck started to flash. And pale. "Guys! Guys! There's a bomb!"

"We know," Casey snapped.

"No, it's not the one we know! That one is upstairs, in the practice. This is here, under the floor!"

"Self-destruction device." Casey dropped to the floor. "Don't see any trapdoors or hatches. In any case, we disabled the security system."

"But it's got a secondary trigger!" Chuck pointed at a blinking lamp. "That's a sensor checking the air quality for surgery. If it's not clean enough…"

Sarah was already moving, pulling out a plastic evidence bag and covering the sensor with it. "Will that be enough to stop it?" she asked, panting.

"Uh…"

She didn't let him finish. Dragging him with her, she raced back to the stairs. They couldn't lose him. She couldn't lose him.

Cursing, Casey ran after them.

They reached the hedge outside the garage before the two buildings blew up and threw them to the ground. Debris fell around them - one tire crashed to the ground, bounced, then rolled past her before toppling over - and a dust cloud started to settle on them.

But they were alive.

California, Burbank, Wienerlicious, October 24th, 2007

"...and while excavations have begun, we do not expect any actionable intelligence to be recoverable from the debris," the general said. "However, we've managed to confirm enough of Agent Larkin's claims through various ways to reassign him to your team."

The director took over. "Your mission remains the same: Protecting the Intersect. But you will also undertake operations to hunt down this 'Fulcrum' organisation and root out its members."

"Bryce is going to join us?" Chuck sounded like he had just been told that Christmas was cancelled.

"Is this a problem, Mr Bartowski?" Beckmann asked.

"No, no, ma'am," Chuck shook his head. "No problem."

But he was lying. Sarah could tell.

"He is one of the only agents we can both trust and spare - and he already knows Mr Bartowski possesses the Intersect," the director explained.

Sarah nodded. It made sense.

But it would also be a problem. For Chuck, and for herself.