Whew, here goes...

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

xXx

NSA agent John Casey dove to the ground, rolling behind a stack of boxed vacuum cleaners. His eyes scanned for his opponent before spotting Chuck, fleeing for the back of the store. He growled low in his throat and took aim, the dark, curly head of hair in his sights. As he pulled the trigger, a foot encased in a sharp heeled, black leather boot, darted out from nowhere, kicking his gun from his fingers. Without waiting to see his bullet go wide, he immediately grabbed the boot around the ankle and tugged, sending Agent Walker to the ground. She grunted as she hit the hard floor and Casey sprung to his feet, yanking out his backup weapon and coming around the tower of boxes to point it at her, but she was waiting, her pistol aimed at his chest.

"What the hell, CIA, he's getting away with the Intersect!" he snarled. "Do you have any idea how many people — spies, soldiers, hard working Americans — have died to gather that information? The damage it could do if it fell into enemy hands?"

"Casey, listen to me, you can't shoot Chuck," Sarah demanded from the floor. "He didn't steal the Intersect, Bryce —" she growled in frustration, "Anderson — sent it to him in an email. He saw the encoded images. He is the Intersect."

Casey's shoulders came down, his intensity lessening but not his grip on the gun aimed at her face. "You're telling be all the intelligence, all the secrets of the United States government are in that idiot's head?" He demanded. "They said that didn't work, that it wouldn't…"

"Well, they were wrong," she retorted. "Jill has been keeping him for Fulcrum."

He grunted. "Well, what are we sitting here for?" he remarked, giving her what might be considered a cheeky grin. He tucked his gun into his pants and held a hand out to her. "We can't very well let him go flailing about in the streets now can we?"

Sarah lowered her gun and grabbed his hand, letting him haul her to her feet. She gave him a grudging smile in return. "No. We can't." They turned as one and headed toward the back of the store where Chuck had disappeared. Four men in SWAT gear burst in, M4 assault rifles raised and ready.

"L.A. PD, drop your weapons!" one of them shouted.

"Federal Agents!" Casey growled. "You lower your weapons." They didn't respond, instead one of the men made a flicking motion with his fingers that drew Sarah and Casey's attention.

They didn't need to see the motion to know it for what it was, and the two experienced agents dove for cover a split second before the automatic weapons roared to life, the bullets exploding merchandise on the shelves above their heads.

"I think it's safe to say they ain't SWAT," Casey commented, quickly checking his magazine.

"You don't say," Sarah rejoined as they ducked out to return fire.

xXx

Chuck knew he was rambling but he couldn't seem to pull the reigns on his run away mouth. Every thing that had happened in the last week, things he thought he'd dealt with, seemed to crack open inside his chest, pouring out panic, fear and grief. As he spoke, Detective Pierre ushered him down the white walled corridor to the stock room. Chuck didn't even take notice that the cargo bay doors were wide open as the older man guided him through them and down the ramp into the back parking lot.

"I mean first she's Katie and then Rebecca and then Jenny and now… how am I supposed to believe anything she says and the other guy —" The sound of gunfire filled the air and he jumped, turning in the direction they had come. "Oh! Oh God, wait… this isn't right, this — those are federal agents!" he said moving back toward the store. All the fear he had felt for himself just a moment before evaporated and he could only think about one thing, one person. "Oh no," he said and took several hurried steps back toward the store before the detective stopped him.

"What are you talking about? How do you know they are federal agents?"

"I… I… Look. I wish I understood what was going on," he flinched as another bout of automatic gunfire echoed from inside the store, followed by the more punctuated sounds of handguns returning fire. "I just want to be safe and know who is on my side, that's all. I'll gladly give them the information if they promise to leave me and my family alone… please, maybe we can all sit down and talk it out… or —"

"So… you have it?" Pierre asked. "You have the information they were all after? Do you have it with you?"

"I — What?" Chuck replied, turning to look sharply at the police officer. Had he mentioned the information to Pierre? "I'm sorry…"

"Just tell me the truth, Chuck, and we can bring an end to all of this," the detective said, raising his hand to his forehead, running a thumbnail over his eyebrow as his intent gaze melted into a glower. Chuck's gaze honed in on a tattoo on the inside of Pierre's wrist. It was a circle, bisected by what looked like a cane, and his mind immediately locked onto it, spilling forth information that rocketed across his synapses at lightning speed.

A sign for Ares, representing the power of murderous aggression, violence and warfare…

The flash of information was accompanied by a photo of a man, his face half in shadow as he strangled a man with his bare hands, the tattoo visible — then a document with Pierre's face, looking grimly back at the camera — Frank Mauser — Fulcrum, the word blood red in his mind's eye. Pictures began to flash, starting with Lizzie, then Alexis, then Jill — all from his own memory. They were followed by the same pictures he'd seen before in Pierre's office and more, everyone in them strangled or suffocated in someway. Then finally, just one word, the Intersect drawing it's own conclusion from the information — Coldstreet —

Chuck gasped, softly, as the intersect released him and Pierre/Mauser looked up. To him it had been less than a second, Chuck's reaction no more than a blink.

"Well, Chuck?" he asked again, and Chuck's eyes grew wide as he realized the truth, the information his brain had called forth settling quickly into his consciousness. His fist tightened over the flash drive he still held in his palm. He would hand it over now in hopes that the man would be fooled, but he knew it was of little use, especially if he knew why Chuck was involved, why he was the one who'd been chosen for this mess. That he had been Jill's charge to keep for Fulcrum.

His mind flew in a million directions, seeking escape, as sounds of gunfire continued to spill forth from the back of the store. C'mon, Chuck, he chastised, think! His eyes darted to the cargo bay doors and another half-assed plan took loose shape in his mind. He swallowed and turned back. Better a half-assed plan then no plan at all. Maybe, if he could just get a moment to think… He looked over the other man's shoulders and let his eyes go really wide with fear.

"Oh my God!" he yelled, backing away. "What is that?"

Mauser turned sharply, looking over his shoulder and Chuck bolted, taking off for the back of the store. His long legs ate up the space, his feet slapping hard against the asphalt. He heard the would-be detective calling after him but he didn't register the words. The whole of his mind and body were focused on finding a place to hide. He grabbed onto the door of the cage and swung himself inside, ducking into the first empty box he saw, turning it away from the opening and folding himself up inside it.

xXx

CIA Agent Sarah Walker ducked down behind one of the few remaining upright display cases and ejected the magazine from her pistol. It was empty and she set her jaw, her eyes narrowing slightly as she replaced the magazine, dropped the slide, and shoved the now useless pistol into the waistband of her pants. The gunshots being exchanged between the remaining Fulcrum agents and the lone NSA agent rang through the air as she pulled a second, much smaller pistol from her boot. Her face was grim as she turned to Casey and his gaze flicked to the small Beretta and back to her face. His eyes narrowed and he didn't flinch as two bullets impacted the front of the Nerd Herd counter where he was hiding. There were only two fulcrum agents left standing, and both were down to their side arms. Casey signaled to her what he believed their position to be and she agreed. Quickly, and with an ease that usually only comes from long term partnership, they formed a basic plan.

As Casey reloaded, Sarah leaned out and fired three of her eight precious shots at the dark head across the room. It was nothing more than cover fire, her gun lacking the power to do any real damage at that range. Casey looked to her and nodded. He leaned out and fired and she began crawling across the debris covered floor. As she rounded her third corner, a foot kicked out, knocking the small pistol from her hand. She grabbed the foot and thrust upward with the heel of her other hand, striking him in the groin. He fell backward and she rolled away, scrabbling for her pistol in the scattered pieces of broken merchandise. Her fingers wrapped around the grip and she whipped around just as the agent started to draw on her from a kneeling position. She fired two shots, hitting him in the lower stomach and hip, below his vest.

"Walker!" Casey's gruff voice rang out across the room and she leapt cautiously to her feet, staying low, as she looked for the threat.

The second agent was on the move and headed her way. She took cover as he caught sight of her and fired. The bullets impacted a stack of 'Cheezy Snackz' by her left shoulder and the plastic containers exploded, raining cheese balls down on her head.

"Hey, moron!" Casey shouted and fired. Casey's shot impacted the fulcrum agent in the upper chest, knocking him back but otherwise ineffective against his vest. The assailant's shots hit Casey in the lower left side, tearing easily through the fabric of his dark suit, and he went down. The Fulcrum agent smiled then spun quickly, his eyes wide, to find Sarah pointing her gun in his face. The .32 caliber bullet pierced his skull, right between his eyebrows, and he dropped to the floor.

Sarah watched for a moment, making sure both agents were down before flicking the safety and shoving the pistol in her pocket. She darted across the room, dodging broken plasma televisions and shattered game consoles, and dropped to her knees by John Casey. The much bigger agent was clutching his side, applying pressure and growling into a phone.

"Damn it, I've given you my clearance I.D, enough of this red tape, I need an under cover clean up team at the Burbank Buy More and I need the immediate area cordoned off, stat!"

"And a medical team," Sarah inserted and he glared at her. She spared him only a brief, spare smile as she shot to her feet and ran for the back of the store.

"And a medical unit." Even his sigh of resignation was more like a grunt than anything else, "Agent down." Snapping the phone shut, he reached down and looked at the empty floor beside him. "Hell. She took my gun."

xXx

He tried to remain quiet and control his breathing as he listened for the sound of footsteps.

The other man, much heavier on his feet and growling with anger, flew up the ramp and into the bay, his gun drawn and ready. He swept the room with his eyes. "Chuck," he called, the hoarse voice almost singing the single syllable. "There's no point in hiding, Chuck. I will find you."

Chuck squeezed his eye closed as he listened to Mauser's voice pass the cage and move toward the doors that would lead out into the hallway. He was holding his body so tight that he began to quiver and to his overly alert senses the rustle of his shirt against the cardboard sounded like the drag of a chair across an empty room. He clenched his teeth and tried to make himself still.

"I've got a team of men on the way, Chuck. We'll take this place apart. Piece. By. Piece." He chuckled and the sound was raspy and cold. "Come out now and it will go easier for you." There was a stretch of quiet as Mauser paused at the door listening.

Chuck listened too and noticed for the first time that the gunfire from inside the store had ceased. He heard the squeak of the door opening and closing and chanced taking a look. Seeing the room clear, he dove out of the box and scrambled on hands and knees across the cage floor before stumbling to his feet. Before he could reach the exit, he heard the sound of Mauser's voice calling out to him and he looked around, spinning frantically as he tried to find a new place to hide. Just as the door began to glide inward, he ducked into an empty space within a pile of inventory stacked in the corner of the room. The space was cramped and he curled back as far as he could, hoping the shadows would hide him.

"Enough of this, Chuck," Mauser hissed. "Those two agents… I suppose you're thinking they'll come and save you. Well, you hear that lack of gunfire? They're dead and there's no one left to help you. Give it up."

Chuck bit back a whimper as a face filled his thoughts. Bright blue eyes, that sweet smile with the slightly uneven teeth. If only he had been able to trust her from the start. Sarah, she'd said her name was Sarah this time — she can't be dead, nononono…

From his new hiding place beneath a 62" plasma television, he could see a large portion of the bay unhindered and he watched as Mauser stalked into the storage cage. The older man swept his black pistol from side to side with slow precision, checking beneath the table and stacked inventory. He kicked over the box that had served as Chuck's former hiding place and growled in frustration as it tipped over, empty. When he turned, Chuck could clearly see the squared, forward set jaw clench in determination. Mauser's cold eyes swept the room and Chuck held his breath, biting his lip to keep in the pathetic mewling sound that tried to escape.

Fear and panic writhed violently inside his chest as he watched Mauser begin a systematic search in the far corner. Eventually, he would be found. There was nowhere to go, nowhere else for him to hide and no one to help him. He found himself wishing he'd listened to Captain Awesome, taken self-defense, drank more of those foul tasting health shakes, gone for a damn run every once in a while… Something, anything that would have made him less powerless, useless.

A movement from behind one of the shelving units caught his eye and he turned toward it at the same time Mauser did. A red light danced across several boxes stacked against the wall and then Sarah appeared, leading with a dark pistol. Mauser struck out at her before a sound of warning could even escape Chuck's lungs. He heard the clatter of a gun hitting the floor, but the flurry of movements was almost too quick for him to track.

Sarah grabbed Mauser by the arm and slammed his wrist against the corner of the shelf, rattling its contents and sending the Fulcrum agent's gun flying. Mauser growled in anger and took a swing and she blocked while simultaneously striking his face. After another onslaught of moves Chuck couldn't decipher, Mauser managed to grab a handful of her hair, holding her in place as he punched her twice in the face and once in the stomach.

Chuck cried out as he heard the impact and watched as Sarah stumbled backward. She regained her balance quickly and advanced on Mauser with a cry of fury as she pummeled him with blows to the face and torso that had Mauser grunting in pain even as he blocked and returned with equal skill. Chuck was in awe of the speed with which they moved. Striking and blocking almost simultaneously. He could feel his nails digging into his palms as he squeezed his fists in anxiety —there was so much going on he couldn't keep track. It was like watching a Bourne movie, only this wasn't a movie and the stakes were very real. He winced, hissing through his teeth as Sarah took another hard blow.

Mauser jabbed her twice in the face, knocking her back a couple of steps, and then kicked her hard in the stomach. She slammed backward into the wall, stunned, and Mauser was on her like a jackal on its prey, wrapping his meaty hands around her throat. She kicked out at him uselessly, her blue eyes wide with panic as she clawed at his hands. Mauser leaned into her, pressing his body against hers and pinning her to the wall as his hands began to squeeze harder.

Blood was pounding in Chuck's ears as he watched her punch and slap impotently against the man's arms, her body writhing in his grasp. She clutched at her jeans pocket and a small pistol clattered uselessly to the ground. Without allowing himself a second thought, Chuck scrambled from his hiding place and grabbed the first thing within his reach. He ran across the room with a loud cry, and swung his impromptu weapon with all his strength, striking Mauser across the back of the head. The tripod broke apart on impact, diffusing the force of the blow. Still, Mauser stumbled sideways, releasing Sarah and she slid limply to the floor. The Fulcrum agent brought a hand to his head, where Chuck's attack had left a gash in the skin behind his ear. His fingers came back covered in blood and he looked up at Chuck with a menacing grin.

Chuck's eyes went wide, the piece of broken camera equipment still in his hands. He threw the useless metal rod at the man's head and ran but Mauser was faster. He darted forward, seized Chuck by the upper arm and used his momentum to swing him across the space. Chuck's back slammed into the side of the cage the metal digging into his shoulder blades. The spring in the chain-link bounced him forward and he fell onto his hands and knees.

Mauser laughed as he watched Chuck struggle to his feet, the nerd holding up his hands to ward off another attack. The moment Chuck regained his feet Mauser lunged forward and struck him hard in the center of the chest. The blow forced the air from his lungs and for a moment it felt like his heart had stopped beating. He stumbled backward, gasping for breath, and Mouser pursued, back-fisting him across the face. He felt the sharp, intense sting of pain and a bright, flash of light before the side of his face went numb. He tasted blood. For a moment, everything went dark and he struggled to stay upright. Then Mauser hit him again and he went down.

Dizzy and disoriented, his vision blurred, Chuck watched Mauser kneel down and lean over him with a sneer. The older man wrapped a hand around Chuck's neck and applied pressure to the side of his windpipe with a thumb.

"Where is the Intersect, Chuck?" he asked, his voice coolly polite in contrast to his actions. "Give it to me now, and this can all be over. I will be gone and your friends and family will be safe."

Chuck pressed his lips together, breathing hard through his nose, his eyes intent upon Mauser's.

"If I have to kill you now, Chuck, I'll just search your body. Then I'll search her body," he tossed his head back toward Sarah still slumped on the floor. "After that I'll take apart your sister's apartment… maybe even your sister. Hmm?"

Chuck's face contorted with pain that had nothing to do with the pressure on his throat. A desperate, voiceless breath escaped as he looked up into those cold eyes, and flecks of blood spotted his lower lip and chin. He reached down and fumbled in his pocket. Keys clattered to the floor as his fingers once again found the smooth shell of the decoy USB drive.

"It's here," he croaked, Mauser's thumb making it difficult to talk. He held it up for the man to see, his hand surprisingly steady. "It's right here."

Mauser smiled and snatched it up, shoving it into his pocket. "Thank you, Chuck. Now, about that other thing Roberts was keeping." He leaned in close. "Do you know what it is?"

Chuck stared back, panic eating him alive from the inside out. His stomach turned as he realized this was it. He was out of tricks and out of hope. He only had one choice if he was really going to keep his family safe from this man and the people he worked for. No matter what, he wasn't going to let these bastards have the information in his head. Even if it meant that he was going to die.

"We looked everywhere," he said, using the panic and desperation he felt to add weight to his words. "I don't know what it is and we couldn't find it… please…"

"Well then, I guess I don't need you anymore. Good bye, Chuck," he said softly as he wrapped his other hand around Chuck's neck and started to squeeze.

Chuck grabbed his wrists and tried to pull but there was no give, no release from the crushing pressure. His lungs started to burn as they tried, uselessly, to pull in air. He pushed at Mauser's shoulders, his legs kicking impotently. As his vision started to go dark around the edges, his hands scrabbled at the hard floor. His fingertips brushed something cool and metallic and it clinked at his touch. He grabbed at the object almost reflexively, his fingers closing over a small, cylindrical piece. It wasn't cold, but smooth and soft, familiar, and he squeezed it hard in his fist. His mouth opened, futilely gasping for air. The world went dark and he brought his fist up forcefully against Mauser's neck, burying Winona to the hilt in the space just below the man's squared off jaw.

Mauser yanked himself back from Chuck, his eyes wide with shock. His hands flew to his own throat, one yanking the small screwdriver out and tossing it to the floor, the other clamping over the wound in an attempt to stem the bleeding. Chuck coughed and gasped for breath, rolling sideways and curling into himself against the hard, cold floor.

Mauser fell back as blood pulsed from between his fingers and dripped from his lower lip. His hand brushed the handle of the pistol he'd knocked from Sarah's hand and his fingers closed over the grip. He lifted it, his hand shaking ever so slightly, and aimed. Chuck looked up, just in time to see that eerie, red light pointed between his eyes. Gunfire split the air and Chuck squeezed his eyes shut, expecting death. It didn't come, and he opened them again as Mauser's body slumped to the ground at his feet to reveal Sarah on her knees behind him, his own gun smoking in her hand.

She dropped the gun and scrambled across the floor to Chuck, grabbing him, nearly in tears. "Chuck! Chuck are you alright?" She grabbed his face, turning him toward her and looking into his eyes, stroking his hair.

He reached up and cupped her face, his thumb stroking her chin. "I'm okay," he said hoarsely, though he felt far from okay. "You?" She huffed out a breath of relief, smiling weakly before she pulled his face to hers for a soft kiss. "Ow," he said before pulling her back for another. He let his head fall to the floor with a 'thud' and looked up at her. "So… Sarah?"

She smiled, pushing the curls from his forehead. "Yeah, Sarah Walker. That's me."

The corner of his mouth quirked up in spite of his split lip. "And is there a Mr. Walker?"

She let her forehead fall to his chest and her shoulders trembled with silent laughter as she shook her head, her hands fisted in his shirt. "No, Chuck," she said when she looked up. "There is definitely no Mr. Walker."

At the sound of sirens outside, she shot to her feet. She looked around a moment, shoving her hair behind her ears and taking a deep breath. She looked down and held her hand out to him. "C'mon, Chuck. We need to go. Now."

He struggled to his feet, feeling dizzy, and he felt her hands grip his forearms to help steady him. When he could see her clearly again he frowned. "Sarah…"

"Chuck, please," she asked, looking at him with the same sincerity she'd had in her eyes the night before, when she said she wasn't going to resist him any longer. "Trust me. One more time."

He stared into her eyes, searching them for truth, but knowing already what his answer would be. He nodded.

"Okay."