Diamonds
Sarah noticed that Cole was using his phone as she picked up Casey's coat and helped him maneuver his injured arm into the sleeve. "Is it bad?" she asked him.
Casey grunted. "Just a flesh wound, barely bleeding."
"Casey, I am so sorry for that," Sarah began, "I saw Chuck laying there and I couldn't even think straight. We've been protecting him for so long," she faltered.
"Apology accepted," Casey said, "Now we've got figure how to get out of this mess."
It was obvious to Sarah that Casey considered the matter settled; she knew he was uncomfortable expressing emotions, but that simple statement spoke volumes; she was forgiven. Her respect for Casey increased tenfold and she vowed to make it up to him somehow.
Chuck tried to stand and his legs buckled beneath him. Casey walked over and grabbed the back of Chuck's Buy More jacket, hauling him up to his feet. "We gotta get him warm," Casey said, "he's been out here for at least an hour."
Chuck walked between them with one arm around Casey and the other around Sarah. Halfway up the slope, he stopped to catch his breath. "Won't they call Beckman?" he asked. He was feeling warmer from the exertion of climbing.
"Nah," said Casey. "They'll figure it will be more humiliating when I do it."
Chuck cringed. He had caused a lot of trouble for Casey, and he was just now starting to appreciate the complexity of the situation.
"What were you really planning to do, Casey?" asked Sarah, as they resumed their climb.
Casey looked over at her. "I don't know," said Casey tiredly. "Maybe let him run."
Chuck's mouth fell open as he looked at Casey.
"Maybe kill him later," he added. Chuck promptly closed his mouth and looked straight ahead.
"What about you, Walker, what was all that talk about luring Fulcrum to Chuck?"
"Cole is Fulcrum."
"What?" exclaimed Casey. "And you let him go?" The cabin came into view as they reached the top of the slope and started down.
"Yes, with the knowledge that Chuck was simply a means to bait Fulcrum agents."
"Smart thinking, Walker."
"What's smart about it?" asked Chuck. He was glad his friends were talking like they always did; he wasn't sure how mad Casey would be after Sarah shot him.
"It means that we bought you some extra time to live at home, Chuck. Cole will tell his superiors that you're not valuable," explained Sarah patiently.
"Oh."
"In fact," she continued, "I saw him on the phone as he left."
***
Cole got in the passenger side of the truck.
"Ready to go?" asked Watson, starting the truck.
"Yeah," said Cole, pulling out his gun and shooting Watson in the head. Cole shut off the engine, climbed out of the truck, and pulled Watson's body down across the seats; no one would see it unless they walked up to the window and looked inside. He started walking quickly toward the cabin, keeping within the trees and staying about 10 yards from the dirt track. His plan was simple: he would flank his unsuspecting targets and then bam, bam, bam, three dead witnesses. He would have to be careful setting up the ambush, however; even though Casey was wounded, the guy was legendary. He wasn't worried about the girl or the kid, they would be easy. He tossed his cigarette to the ground.
***
When they reached the cabin, Sarah went inside to retrieve Chuck's bag. Standing outside with Casey, Chuck tried to think of something to say to him, but everything he could come up with seemed lame. He was too tired, he told himself. He would talk to him tomorrow, if Casey would listen to him.
Inside the cabin, Sarah felt the hairs on her neck stand up. She stood still in the middle of the room, trying to find the reason for her sudden intuition. She had learned to trust it years ago, and it rarely steered her wrong. She walked to the porch and scanned the area carefully, but noticed nothing. Casey, noting her behavior, was also looking over the landscape. Maybe it was just her nerves, she thought, finally getting jittery after seeing Chuck dead. She stood and watched as Casey and Chuck continued walking toward the cars, parked just over that last steep hill. Then she saw a reflective flash in the tree line, about ten yards out, and she narrowed her eyes. It could be the snow, or a metal sign, or even an icicle, she thought, shading her eyes and searching for the source. A slight movement caught her eye. Even as she called Casey's name, she was running toward the movement with her gun drawn.
"Casey!"
Casey looked up as Sarah yelled, and he saw her running toward the tree line.
"Down, Chuck!" he said. Even as he turned to shove Chuck down, he heard a soft zing, followed by a bright flare of pain in his shoulder, on the same side as his injured arm. He fell with Chuck, and they both lay flat against the snow. As Casey listened to Chuck's panicked breathing, he couldn't help but think that this was just not his day.
"Um, Casey?" said Chuck.
"You should run Chuck, as soon as you hear Walker fire her gun."
Keeping his body as close to the ground as possible, Chuck turned so that he faced Casey. "How bad is it?" he asked.
Casey unzipped his jacket and peeked at the wound; a dark circle of blood was slowly spreading on his shirt. "Not too bad," he said. "You need to run, Chuck," he repeated, handing Chuck the keys to his S-10.
Chuck looked at the woods where Sarah had disappeared. The sun had moved higher, filtering down through the trees. In some places the snow was like a spray of tiny diamonds, lit up by sunshine. It was so beautiful, he thought. Adrenaline surged in his blood, and he felt stronger. He made his decision.
"Casey," Chuck said, making sure he had eye contact before continuing. "I'm not running, at least not today."
"Chuck," Casey began angrily.
"No, Casey, hear me out. I'm not running. You and Sarah have saved me so many times, I've lost count. I want to be more than someone who needs constant protection; I need to be part of the team. Now, you can waste time yelling at me, or you can figure out a way to get us all out of here."
Chuck finished speaking and looked away, hoping that Casey wasn't regretting his decision to let him live. He had to make a stand some time, and now was as good as any. He saw now that running away had been a foolish mistake. In fact, he should have told Casey and Sarah about Beckman's snowman operation in the first place. From day one, Sarah asked him to trust her. Again and again he failed her. He recalled Sarah asking him if he was ready to be a hero, and he said yes; but secretly, he knew he couldn't be that hero. He had screwed up everything in his life, and he knew that he would eventually let everyone down. He realized now that it wasn't about his being a hero, it was about working with two people, people that he admired, to make a difference, no matter how small or large. All along, he had been thinking that his life within the spy world was more or less a sham, and that living a real life, a normal life, meant working at the Buy More, maybe starting a new career, and getting married someday. He saw now that it was the complete opposite; his life with Sarah and Casey was real, and now he realized that it was the life he wanted for himself. Sure, he could work on his career and maybe get married, but those things were not part of some separate, 'normal' life; he didn't have to cross some imaginary line in order to obtain them. And as much as Casey and Sarah believed that they lived in a tightly confined box, and that to step outside meant risking their lives and the lives of people around them, Chuck knew differently. He only hoped that he would have the chance to show them before Beckman had him killed or bunkerized.
"Chuck," said Casey, breaking Chuck from his reverie.
"Look, Casey, I'm not changing my mind," Chuck began.
Casey interrupted him. "Take this," he ordered, handing Chuck his gun. "And this time, you do as I say."
