Thelaststraw5gVer2
T/N: I'm cleaning up this crap as fast as I can. Review if you want more. I don't care. I got exams to grade. Damn I'm getting like him. NicoleF
Casa Bartowski
It seemed like he'd only been asleep a few seconds but it was dark when his cell phone woke him.
"Bartowski, secure."
"Casey, secure. We need you at the Castle. Can you drive or do you want someone to come get you?" He'd send Walker.
"Let me see if Ellie's here. If I can't borrow her car I'll call you back for a ride."
Ellie was at work so he called Casey back. "OK, Chuck. Sit tight. I'll have Walker pick you up on her way in."
"Um, no, it's really out of her way. I'll see you in fifteen minutes. I'll get a cab."
"Chuck, wait, she's…" 'already on her way.' He was talking to dial tone. Stubborn idiot.
Chuck called for a cab and waited out front for it. He saw Walker's Porsche coming down the road and he stepped into the shadows so she wouldn't see him. She parked and walked up through the courtyard to his apartment and he slipped out and got in the cab that had just pulled up. Another bullet dodged.
Sarah Walker debated about knocking on the door or using the Morgan door. She didn't want to have to face Ellie or Devon so she slid down and opened the window and slipped inside. His watch and cell phone were gone and his light was out. Damn it, she'd missed him. She drove back to the Castle, highly pissed.
Castle
"Where is Agent Walker, Major Casey? She's late."
"She went to pick up Bartowski but he'd already taken a cab. She'll be here momentarily.
"Mr. Bartowski, this mission will not require any physical exertion on your part, can you handle sitting in the van or is your injury too painful?" Chuck didn't know if she was being sarcastic or not and didn't care.
"Fully capable within the parameters you've described, General." Two could play at the 'bureaucrat game'. Beckman looked amused and snappish at the same time.
"Good. Now, Casey, bring Agent Walker up to speed when she arrives. Your mission is a repeat of the night of Mr. Bartowski was injured. Our source reports that a large shipment of counterfeit $20 bills will be transported by truck to Mexico. Your job is to identify the truck and then turn the information over to Treasury and Customs and they'll make the arrests."
"Ma'am, do we even need Bartowski for this? Isn't this a straight forward sneak and peek?"
"Mr. Bartowski will handle communications and also view video feeds from your cams and report any flashes. If there's nothing else…"
"General, there were no loading facilities for trailer trucks at the warehouse. It was strictly a rail site. There's a trucking terminal at the end of the row of warehouses that's still in operation. It makes more sense to be doing the printing and drying there since it's right where the transportation is located."
Beckman mulled over Chuck's contribution. She checked the ownership of the terminal and provided a repeat of her display for Chuck in the Castle. He flashed on the corporation and owners. A front operation for narcoterrorists operating out of northern Mexico. Their 'president' was Alfredo Montez y Alba, also the reputed head of the cartel. He had expanded his influence to include the Japanese home islands through the Yakuza syndicates and their operations in Japan and Europe. He related this to Beckman.
"Change in target. You two agents will infiltrate the terminal and determine if the operation is based there and then withdraw and report. I'm tasking a unit of strikers from the L.A. station to provide additional manpower. Mr. Bartowski, under no circumstances are you to become actively involved in this operation. You are still recovering from a wound. Two strikers will be assigned to guard the van but they are not cleared for the intersect. Do you understand?"
"Yes, crystal clear. Sit, observe, flash if possible, do not leave the van. Got it."
"That is all. Good luck." She disconnected the briefing and the logo floated across the screen.
Sarah gave Casey a look and then said, "Well, Chuck, are you really feeling well enough for this? You're still pale and using a sling. We could handle this remotely from the Castle. I should have suggested that to Beckman."
"Casey already did and she said 'no'. I'm fine, Agent. Let's get this done. I go back to work tomorrow and joy, oh, joy, I get to open the store." He stood up and removed the sling from over his head and moved his arm slowly. "Good as new."
"Chuck, I really need to talk to you about something. Can you tear yourself away from the reports long enough to listen to me?"
"Sure. You have my undivided attention. Say what you have to say." He continued reviewing the floor plans, alarm system data and possible access and exit points if the team got in trouble.
"Never mind. I can take a hint. Sorry to have bothered you, Mr. Bartowski." Heavy sarcasm.
Chuck was suddenly very interested in the floor plan and alarm system.
"There are more alarm terminals and sensor units in the building that there are doors and windows. That makes no sense unless there are hidden rooms or offices not shown on this diagram. What do you make of that?"
Sarah was seething and wasn't paying attention to what he was saying. She wanted to explain things to him, tell him how she felt and all he wanted to do was discuss the damned mission.
"Damn it, Chuck, I'm trying to talk to you about something important to us and you won't even look at me. What's wrong with you?"
He looked at her, capturing her gaze and hardening his own. "What's wrong, Agent Walker, is that the floor plans are screwy and there might be rooms or areas we won't find if we don't trace the alarm wiring to these unaccounted for sensors. You're supposed to be the damned professional agent, pay attention to the damned mission. Isn't that what you want? Another successful mission for your resume? Another notch in your belt? That's all you really wanted and worried about for two - damned - years, Sarah, your precious CIA career, and suddenly you want to talk?"
"If you want to talk, we'll talk after the mission. I will not be responsible for getting someone hurt because I didn't cover all the angles. You have a vested interest in my performance, Agent Walker, since it's your ass that's going to be out there."
"Forget it, Bartowski. I was wrong to even think you might… Just forget it."
He turned back to the monitor, making notations on the smart screen with a light pen and printing out copies of the floor plan.
Chuck slowly put on his vest and then his jacket. It was raining – again – in sunny California. He gave Casey the floor plan copies with notations for distribution and then went up and got in the van. His arm was aching but he ignored it. 'Now she wants to talk…'
"Sarah, you should have waited. He's focused on the mission and that's the way it should be. Wait until it's over and I'll disappear and you can have your say. Just…be sure this is what you want because you'll be hurting two other people if you're wrong."
They got their equipment and went up to the van. Casey turned to Chuck and handed him a 9mm Beretta. "Just in case."
Mission Van
Chuck sat in the van and fidgeted with his vest. The damned right-hand strap cut directly over his bandage and it ached from the pressure.
Sarah saw him fiddling with the strap and said harshly, "Leave the damned vest alone, it's to protect you when we're not with you. Haven't you learned anything in two years?"
"Oh, yeah, I've learned a great deal. I'm just trying to relieve the pressure on these stitches. The strap is pulling…"
"Oh, for God's sake, grow up and live with it. It's just for an hour or two. Surely you can handle a little irritation for that long?" Casey shot her a look that said 'shut up' but she ignored him and kept on nagging at him about anything that came to mind.
Chuck sighed and looked out the window, wishing he were anywhere else but in the van so he could take off the damned vest. He thought a few of his stitches had torn and he could feel the blood soaking his shirt. She heard the sigh and started round 2.
"Oh, what's the matter now, hurt feelings?
"Nope. I'm fine." He closed his eyes and thought about the damned extra sensors. He ignored her bitching for the remainder of the drive to the terminal and that made her even madder.
Trucking Terminal
When Casey parked the van across the lot from the trucking terminal Chuck moved back and set up the communications programs and activated their cams. After confirming communications, he leaned back in the chair, fastened his belt out of habit and waited for the op to begin.
"Stay in the van. Do not leave, understand? You're supposed to be smart so learn this lesson well: stay in the fucking van, Mr. Bartowski."
Casey practically dragged her out of the van and shoved her against it. "What the hell is your problem, Walker? He's doing his job and all you've managed to do is tear up what little cohesiveness we have left as a team. And what's with those smart-assed comments? He's doing what he's supposed to be doing and you, you better get your head in the game. Settle this thing between you two tonight or I'll ask Beckman to reassign you. If you can't settle it, then at least act like a professional. You're just giving him more reasons not to want to talk to you or is that the whole point of all this…driving him away – again?"
"No, Casey, that's not it at all."
"No, it's not. You want him to be the one to quit, to push you away, that way you can feel all self-righteous about screwing him over one last time. And it will be the last time, Sarah. Remember what I said."
Chuck's voice came over the comms. "All right, the clock is running and we're behind the curve. Let's get this done. I'm opening the store in the morning."
They'd passed the first series of offices without any sign of a printing operation. Just as they passed the first of the sensors Chuck had questioned, Casey's cam picked up a familiar shape. "Freeze! Casey pan left until I tell you to stop. Stop. All teams freeze in place. Do not move. Walker, pan right…stop."
"What's going on, Mr. Bartowski? This is delaying our search." Sarah hadn't listened to Casey at all and her comments dripped with sarcasm.
"If you move 6 inches forward you'll complete your search in perforated pieces. Casey, shine a light on that junction box."
"Shit, Chuck, you were right. Claymores." Out in the parking lot the two NSA guards came under fire from behind some conex containers and were advancing to take them out. It was standard NSA doctrine.
"Chuck? Chuck? Walker, can you reach Chuck? My radio must be bad."
"Casey, that's gunfire outside the terminal. All units abort and fall back to the assembly point. It's a trap! Fall back!"
The two NSA strikers were drawn off and another cartel team opened the van door and attempted to drag Chuck out but his seat belt saved him. Their objective was to blind the NSA team and destroy their communications, and then the team itself, piecemeal if the explosives left anyone alive.
Chuck picked up the pistol Casey had given him and shot the man trying to drag him from the van. He panicked and fired 5 times. The other two cartel thugs began spraying the interior of the van with unaimed automatic weapons fire and managed to hit him three times in the chest as well as destroy his console and a lot of other equipment. They also riddled their comrade but he was beyond caring. Chuck's vest absorbed the bullets but the sledgehammer blows knocked the wind out of him and he slumped in the chair restrained by a forgotten but life-saving seatbelt, unconscious with the dead thug laying against him.
The two strikers realized they'd been suckered in and rushed back to the van followed in minutes by the two agents and the remaining strikers. The two guards explained that they'd begun taking fire and assaulted the cartel hoods but had returned when they heard the gunfire from the van. The attackers had fled leaving one dead thug in the van. "The commo guy killed him. The others just opened up, hoping to get lucky, and they did."
Casey looked in and saw Chuck slumped in the seat apparently dead with his assailant draped across his frame. The van was shot up, seat padding and filler filaments floated in the air. The floor was awash with blood from the body of the Cartel hood. He turned to Walker and said, "You don't have to worry about pushing him away any more, Sarah."