As you know, I only own Beth and the few odds'n'ends characters I've created-Chuck doesn't belong to me (sadly). So, here's the first part of this next section-it's set during Chuck versus the Broken Heart. A big thank you to the readers and reviewers-you make my day! Also, if you haven't had a chance to read the companion pieces to this story, then please do, because I and lifeislikeaboxofbertiebotts (my co-writer) appreciate it bunches. Now, onto the story!
"I'm sure you've all had a chance to welcome Agent Alex Forrest."
Sarah responded with "Of course general." I simply nodded. Not like I had much choice in the matter. She was here to stay, temporarily, whether I liked it or not. When Beckman alerted me there'd be a 49B in place, my initial response was to get mad, but I held my cool—I had to, for Sarah's sake. When I walked into the Orange Orange that morning, I had not expected to find such a…cold…woman. Alex Forrest didn't feel the need to get on anyone's good side, that's for sure. She barely said two words to me! It was, quite frankly, annoying. And then she started nosing about Chuck and Sarah. I heard John and Forrest speak at the same time, and looked up. Well that was weird. Forrest kept her eyes on the General, but I saw John glance over at Forrest with some surprise before shaking it off and focusing back on the General. Hmm, that may be a smart idea.
From what she'd said, we'd be looking for Rashad Ahmed, who is the key link to terrorist Hassan Khalid. Yeah, because that sounded easy. Ahmed was believed to have had a heart attack, and checked in the local hospital as 'Harry Lime' due to the fact he needed a pacemaker. Criminals always had such great pseudonyms. I mean, c'mon, the man couldn't have found a name that was a bit more…Middle Eastern? Shit, Forrest spoke again, and I shook my head. Now was not the time to distract myself by the names of criminals. I needed to focus.
"…must infiltrate the hospital to confirm Ahmed's identity. Questions?"
"Sounds straightforward General." As I was standing next to John, I heard his soft grunt of approval, and shot him a dirty look. Why was he so pleased? Anyone could have said it sounded straightforward. Because it was. Forrest talking only held up the mission—acting all high and mighty. And John? What was he thinking—giving approving looks to Forrest. She was the enemy! Okay, well, she wasn't Ahmed, but she certainly wasn't any of our friends—she was trying to get Sarah in trouble. And I wasn't about to stand for it.
Beckman finalized the mission details, and after she let Sarah field the 49B question (which was a crappy explanation, I had to admit—I mean, how was Chuck supposed to sort through all that bullshit to find what he really needed to know?), she ended the conference call, leaving the five of us standing around awkwardly.
Chuck looked around the room before asking, "So…what's the plan?"
"We do our job," was Forrest's terse reply, and I found myself bristling at the statement. 'Do our jobs?' To some of us, our jobs were more than just screwing around with other people's lives and catching the bad guys. Sure, Forrest could be an excellent agent for all I know, but from what I could tell, she had no bedside manner—hell, she had no heart.
I walked towards the monitors on the left side of the room, pausing to touch Chuck's arm in a comforting gesture before speaking. "Well, we're gonna figure out a game plan—one that will be safe for us and for the civilians in the hospital because, although some people may not realize it, there are others who could inadvertently become involved in the case, and their safety is just as important as catching the baddies, if not more important. We have to think of all lives, not just the ones we're setting out to extinguish. Cause, as Dr. Seuss says, "A life is a life, no matter how small."
"Our mission is to be completed by any means necessary—surely the country would benefit from the capture of national terrorists. A few lives lost in the long run won't matter when the enemy is caught."
I stopped dead in my tracks, closing my eyes momentarily so I wouldn't lose my temper and haul off and give that gal a bit of a Tennessee ass-whoopin'. Spinning on my heel, I didn't stop approaching until I was toe to toe and eye to eye with her. "Surely then, you're not really protecting the country then, are you? Because protecting the country means more than just protecting the land, or the government bigwigs. Protecting the country means looking out for everyone. It means laying down your life for the farmer, the mechanic, the accountant. It means sacrificing your time and the things you love to stop the people who threaten our way of life. Whether that threat is national terrorists or communist countries or drug smugglers or mafia members, we protect the country. And why do we do it? Because we believe in a better world—a safer world than the one we presently live in. The 'one for the sake of many' thought process you've got goin' on is good and all for wars. It's good when you're one of the many. But what about that one being sacrificed? Do you think he wanted to be sacrificed? Do you think he chose it? Do you—"I cut off my spiel abruptly, taking a calming breath. I'd clenched my fists so much my nails had left marks, I knew so.
Giving her the coldest glare I could muster, I finished with, "The reason you do your job so well, Forrest, is because you're focused and driven. I respect that. But your cold-hearted downright ruthless approach to missions aren't gonna fly with me; they're not gonna fit in with the way things are run. You're here to observe, and you're here to temporarily replace Agent Walker. You will collect your findings and report again to the General. Now, I think it's best you remember that. Because I will not tolerate your lackadaisical attitude when innocent lives are at stake. Now if you'll pardon me, since you seem to be rather dedicated in your job, I think you oughta be getting up to the Orange Orange—you're already late, and that is, in part at least, your job."
Turning, I reached the monitors, easily bringing up the hospital blueprints. I sorely wanted to turn and see what the group's reactions were. But I wouldn't. I wasn't lying when I said there was a job to do. And currently, my job required me to look at hospital blueprints and stew. Well, look at hospital blueprints—the stewing, not so much. But, I couldn't help it. Life was not fair. Anyone could see Sarah was good for this role—it was her relationship with Chuck that made Chuck as safe as he was. Damn 49B. Or-better phrasing: damn Alexandra Forrest. With her long blonde hair and her 'I'm the ice queen' persona. What a bitch.