Chuck vs. the Beautiful Letdown
Chapter 12: Awakening
CAST (in order of appearance):
Elizabeth Reynolds – Yvonne Strahovski
Beverly Center guest services rep – Frankie Muniz
Maximillian Calijo – Andy Garcia
Langston Arthur Graham – Tony Todd
LACMTA bus driver – Brad Dourif
Ellie Bartowski Woodcomb – Sarah Lancaster
10:30 A.M., Pacific Daylight Time
Saturday, June 13th, 2009
The Sofitel Los Angeles
8555 Beverly Blvd., Los Angeles, California
Beth Reynolds looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She didn't look like Elizabeth Lisa Reynolds anymore. She looked…
She looked like Sarah Walker.
It had been a while since she'd gotten her hair cut, and it had grown down to shoulder length. Certainly nowhere near the middle of her back, like it had been before, but still, definitely longer. Add to that the fact that she had dyed it back to platinum blonde before she left Catalina Island – it made an incredible difference.
The green contacts safely resided in a contact lens case. Her eyes were back to being the ice blue that she had been born with.
An NSA intercept of a phone call that Maximillian Calijo had made revealed that he would be at the Beverly Center that morning – right across the street from the Sofitel. He was there to meet with a business associate. It was Beth's job to tail him, follow him to the funeral, then to the graveside service.
Director Graham had informed her that, amazingly, the Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department suspected a drifter of murdering the two Fulcrum men. Nobody – not one of the interviewees – had said a word about a woman with short red hair and green eyes.
That desk clerk must've been stoned, Beth thought.
Beth headed out of the hotel just after 10:30. She crossed Beverly Boulevard at the stoplight at La Cienega, and headed into the Macy's Men's store on the ground floor of the Beverly Center. Elevators at the center of the store took her up to the sixth floor.
She had at first been wary about coming to the Beverly Center on a Saturday morning. After all, who knew who might show up that knew her?
Director Graham had allayed her fears, though. Ellie had to work that morning. Devon was taking a trip to San Diego to visit his parents so that they could meet their new grandson. Morgan had to be at the Buy More, and Chuck, Casey, and Agent Mars had been sent on a wild goose chase to Palm Springs that Graham assured her would keep them there until at least 2:00 P.M.
When she reached the sixth floor, she turned right, and crossed the mall's grand court to the Guest Services booth. "Excuse me," she said, approaching the booth.
The young man behind the booth looked tired and bored, but he jumped up as she approached. "Good morning," he said. "How can I help you?"
"I'm looking for my boss," Beth said, pulling out a picture of Maximillian Calijo. "I'm supposed to meet him here, but I have forgotten where. Have you seen him?"
"Yeah, actually," was the reply she got. "He was just here a moment ago, asking where Starbucks was."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, if you go up these escalators right behind me, and then the next set, up to the eighth floor, and then turn right, you'll see it."
"Thanks!" Beth flashed a smile at him, and the young man blushed. Impressionable twenty year-olds, she thought, mentally laughing.
She took the escalators up to the eighth floor, as instructed, and turned right. Yes, indeed, there was Starbucks, and yep, there was Max Calijo, standing in line.
Beth ducked into Forever 21, and pretended to check out some clothes that she might actually consider buying were she there to shop. But she wasn't – she was there to keep an eye on Max Calijo.
A moment later, he walked past. She waited a moment, and then followed him. He headed across the food court – and then outside – onto the rooftop terrace.
Dammit, Beth thought. How am I supposed to keep an eye on him out there without him noticing?
Then she had an epiphany. Moving quickly, she went back to Starbucks, got herself a large plain coffee, added a little bit of cream and sugar to it, and then headed outside.
She walked right past Maximillian Calijo, and sat down at a table at the far end of the terrace, her back to him. Then, reaching into her bag, she withdrew her MacBook. Opening it up, she very carefully set it up so that the webcam at the top of the screen was pointed directly at Calijo.
The next hour was strictly vanilla. Not a single exciting thing happened. A few people came by, but as Beth listened in, it became pretty clear to her that Calijo was conducting interviews for a legislative internship.
She sighed. Well, this was a bust. Then, she looked closely at the screen –
Calijo had stood and was walking her direction. Beth quickly pulled up a Microsoft Word document before he could see the screen.
"Excuse me, ma'am?" he asked as he walked up behind her.
Beth turned around. "Can I help you?" she replied.
"Max Calijo, state Assembly from district 56," he said, extending his hand.
"Beth Reynolds," she replied, standing and shaking his hand.
"Listen, I hope this doesn't seem too forward, and let me assure you, I have no designs whatsoever, but are you busy this afternoon?"
Beth arched an eyebrow. "Uh, not particularly… may I ask why?"
Calijo sighed. "I need somebody to accompany me to my brother's funeral, to hopefully keep my mother off my back about 'when I'm going to meet the right girl' and all that bullshit."
He looked at her hopefully. "Would you be willing to help me out? There's five thousand dollars in it for you, and I promise you, I'll behave myself."
Beth's mind was spinning. Not in her wildest dreams could this have worked out more perfectly. "Sure," she replied. "Why not."
Calijo smiled. "Great," he said with a sigh of relief. "Where can I pick you up?"
"Oh, I'm actually staying at the Sofitel, right across the street," Beth answered.
Calijo nodded. "Alright, then. I'll pick you up out front at, say one o'clock?"
"I'll be there!"
Beth went back to the Sofitel. She immediately contacted Director Graham to tell him about this latest development.
"I swear to God, you jump into piles of shit and come out smelling like roses on a fairly regular basis," he said in disbelief. "Are you sure he doesn't suspect anything?"
"He's not that good an actor, sir," Beth replied. "He's been a regular on the morning shows for the last four months. I've had ample opportunity to observe him."
"Fair enough," Graham replied. "Just make sure you're armed."
"I always am, sir."
A black Lexus limo pulled up in the valet area at the Sofitel at 1:02 P.M. The valet opened the door for Beth. She handed him a five dollar bill.
"Well, Ms. Reynolds, you look appropriately somber," Calijo observed, amusement in his voice.
"I wear black a lot," Beth replied, truthfully. She looked down at her outfit. As a matter of fact, it was one of the black blouses and black skirts, along with the black heels, that she'd had the Avalon Hotel concierge get for her the day she took the plunge off the bridge.
It was a long drive. The limo headed south on La Cienega Boulevard to the Santa Monica Freeway. Ten miles east on the Santa Monica Freeway to the Santa Ana Freeway, and another eleven miles south to Pioneer Boulevard.
"This neighborhood's in a lot better shape than I would've figured," Beth observed, trying to make small talk.
"Believe it or not, it's the Firestone Boulevard Slayers," Calijo replied. "I know, they're a gang, they get a lot of bad press, but they at least keep the neighborhood clean. If my dumbass brother hadn't decided to get them into drugs, they could've become legit."
Then he stopped and considered. "Of course, since he died on his initial drug acquisition trip, maybe they can stay off that path."
Beth just kept her mouth shut.
The funeral service started at 2:15. It was completely in Spanish. Beth was very careful to put a vacant look on her face, even though she understood every single word – and in fact, probably could have conducted the service herself.
Calijo very somberly placed a Mexican flag over his brother's coffin, and then later gave a eulogy. Beth noticed that he had a look just short of disgusted on his face the entire time. It was clear that he did not approve of the gang-leading life that his brother had conducted.
So why, oh, why, would you get yourself involved with FULCRUM?! her mind screamed at him.
When the service ended, it was back to the limo, for what Beth was quite certain was going to be the funeral procession from HELL. The service was at St. John of God Church in Norwalk; the burial was to be at the Forest Lawn Memorial Cemetery on the other side of the Hollywood Hills.
At 4:30 P.M., the procession arrived at Forest Lawn. Beth accompanied Calijo to the gravesite, where the priest from St. John of God was going to give a final blessing.
As she sat there, she realized that the area she was in looked eerily familiar. She wasn't quite sure why – she'd only been to Forest Lawn once before – for Bryce's "funeral", back in October of 2007, and that had been in a totally different part of the cemetery.
Beth looked around the cemetery uneasily. What was it about this place?
And then, she saw a headstone. A headstone that she had seen a number of times before – but only on a computer monitor. Her eyes widened as she looked at the several bouquets of flowers set against it.
"Oh my God," she whispered.
Beth bent to pick up her purse. "Are you alright?" Calijo whispered.
"Yeah," she whispered back. "I just realized, though, a friend of mine's gravesite is here, and I really need to go visit it."
"Oh," he replied, confused. "Okay. Well, I tell you what, I think you've stayed by my side long enough. In case you don't come back…"
He reached into his pocket and withdrew his wallet. Reaching into it, he pulled out a check and handed it to her. "Here's my end of the bargain. Thanks for helping me keep mi madre diabla off my back."
Beth smiled. "No problem at all," she replied.
As she snuck off, she realized – another stroke of good luck. She had a check with Calijo's bank account number on it in her hand. The CIA would probably be a fan of that.
However, all feelings of good fortune faded, the closer she got to the headstone. There was a certain feeling of trepidation she experienced as she approached what was, essentially, her own gravestone.
And finally, she reached it. The first time she'd seen it in person. The first time she'd ever actually been able to read what it said.
SARAH WALKER
JUNE 14, 1982 –
JANUARY 30, 2008
LEADER
LIFESAVER
LOVING FRIEND
It felt a little weird, almost creepy, to be standing here at this headstone. She looked down at the bouquets. A bouquet of gerber daisies. A bouquet of carnations. A bouquet of a mixture of red, white, and blue dyed roses, held together with a little plastic clip shaped like a handgun.
Beth laughed softly. There was no question who that bouquet was from.
But then, there was the final bouquet. It was a mixture of pinkish-orange roses and sunflowers. If there had been no question that Casey had provided the red, white, and blue bouquet, there was absolutely not even a shadow of a doubt that the bouquet of sunset roses and sunflowers was from Chuck. Those were her favorite flowers, and though she had no idea how Chuck had done it, he had figured that out three weeks before the CIA had tried to extract him.
Her breath caught as she realized there was a card attached to it. She reached down and gently tugged the card off of the bouquet. She smiled as she realized it was a birthday card. Tomorrow was, in fact, Sarah Walker's birthday.
Beth opened the card – and was shocked to discover that Chuck had written a note inside.
Dear Sarah, it said. I have no pretensions that you'll ever actually read this card, but it makes me feel better to think that somehow, some way, someday you might.
It's been nearly a year and a half now – and yet, there are still days when I wake up and think that I'll see you. I don't know how you did it, but somehow, you got under my skin. You became part of me, and every day that I have to go without that part, my heart aches even worse.
There have been so many people who have showed me how much they love and care about me since you left. Hell, I didn't even know two of them before it happened. But honest to God, I would give it all up just to have one more day with you.
I miss you so much, and I love you. Happy birthday. – Chuck
Beth put a hand to her mouth, and realized that her face was wet. She slowly wiped the tears from her eyes – and then she took the birthday card, and slid it into her purse. When her hand came back out of her purse, her cell phone was in it.
She opened it, and slowly dialed. A moment later, it was answered. "Graham, secure."
"This is Reynolds, secure. I can't do it anymore. I quit."
Graham was silent for a moment. "I was wondering when it would happen," he finally said. "When the motion detector was set off at the gravesite, and I saw that it was you there, I figured it was only a matter of time."
"So you understand, then?"
"I do," Graham replied quietly. "I don't know what you plan to do next –"
"Neither do I, sir."
"But if you end up being arrested for falsifying your own death – and you probably will be, if you do what I think you're going to do – I'll do everything in my power to protect you, and to get the charges dropped."
"Thank you, sir," Beth said. "But, what do you think I'm going to do?"
Graham laughed softly. "That's for you to figure out."
Beth hung up the phone and dropped it back into her purse. She started walking.
She walked out of the cemetery, up Forest Lawn Drive to Riverside Drive, and then over to Buena Vista Street. She waited for a few minutes, until an LA County Metro bus came along.
When the door opened, she asked the driver, "How would I get from here to Sunset and Glendale?"
"Well," the driver said, "you'd want to take this bus to Riverside and Glendale, and then the number 92 bus down to Glendale and Sunset."
He looked at her strangely. "But why would somebody dressed all fancy like you be ridin' the bus?"
Beth half-smiled. "I'm trying to get to Echo Park, to see my…"
She paused for a moment, and then a big smile crossed her face. "To see my old boyfriend. I haven't seen him in a year and a half."
The bus driver looked at her, then looked behind him. Making sure nobody was watching, he tore off a Metro Day Pass and handed it to her. "Don't tell nobody I did that," he instructed her. "It might only be a five dollar pass, but they'll fire my ass."
Beth smiled again. "Thank you."
Forty-five minutes later, the second bus dropped her off on the northwest corner of Glendale Boulevard and Sunset Boulevard. Beth crossed Glendale and headed east on Sunset – one block, two blocks, three blocks, four – and there she was, at Laveta Terrace.
Her stomach was doing backflips, the closer she got. She turned left and headed up Laveta. Her stomach practically tied itself in a knot as the apartment complex came into view.
She examined the parking area. No Chuck car. No Casey car. No Devon car. Ellie's car was there, but the apartment appeared to be dark. Maybe she was out?
As stealthily as she could, Beth snuck around the back of the apartment complex. She stood on her toes, and reached up, hoping that the catch to open the Morgan Door still worked –
And it did. The window swung silently open. Beth boosted herself up and over the window ledge –
Into a baby's nursery. Beth closed her eyes and breathed outwards. She had completely forgotten. Chuck lived in Santa Monica now.
But wait. This had to be the room where Ellie and Devon's baby was. Curiosity got the better of Beth. She crossed the dim room to the crib, and looked down.
Yep, there he was. Ellie and Devon's son. He was awake, and he looked up at her, his eyes wide open – but he didn't make a sound, almost as if he trusted her.
He had definitely gotten the Bartowski looks rather than the Woodcomb looks – his eyes were huge, and deep brown, just like his uncle's. He even had wispy curls of brown hair forming on his head.
Beth reached her hand down into the crib and touched his tiny hand – and he immediately wrapped it around her index finger, a shadow of a smile appearing on his face. A huge smile came to Beth's face without her even thinking about it.
"His name is Reese Walker Woodcomb."
Beth's head snapped up. Ellie was standing in the doorway. She hadn't heard her approach, hadn't even heard the door open, she had been so engrossed with the baby.
Ellie's face was carefully neutral, but Beth could see the anger, the unbridled hatred, in the older woman's eyes. "We gave him his middle name in memory of you," Ellie continued, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice.
Beth looked at Ellie. She didn't know what to say, what she could say, so finally, she just said, "Hi, Ellie…"
To be continued…
