A/N: I want to preemptively apologize for the length of this A/N, but there are some things I need to let you know about.

First, thank you for patiently waiting for the return of this story. I got a little distracted when writing Chuck vs. the Sound of Music, so this story had to go on the back burner. But now it's back!

Just a quick reminder of what's going on in this story: Chuck, Sarah, Casey and Jen are trying to get the hard drive from Orion's laptop stored at CIA headquarters in Langley. That's pretty much it. It took 13 chapters to get to this point? Yes. Yes it did.

Thank you my beta, AgentInWaiting, for his help on this chapter.

Also, the lovely and talented Frea O'Scanlin and I are up to something. We're going to write a Chucksical (a Chuckified musical), but we need your help. Please go to Frea's blog, Castle Inanity, and vote for the musical you want us to write (voting is open until December 15th). Why are we doing this? We're raising money on behalf of Operation Smile, a wonderful charity Zachary Levi supports. While you're at Castle Inanity, click on the "Donate" button and read more about our "Chuck Will Sing for A Smile-a-thon." From there you can get to our Operation Smile donation page. Through the awesomeness of Chuck fans everywhere, we've already raised enough money for seven needy children to receive beautiful new smiles. Won't you help put a smile on a child's face?

Finally, I don't own Chuck, etc.

Chapter 14 – A Librarian in Langley

The heels of Jen's shoes clicked on cement as she and Casey strode purposefully down the sidewalk toward the main entrance of the headquarters of the Central Intelligence Agency. The sunshine and blue sky did nothing to ease her mind about what they were about to do. Stealing something from the CIA? That was insane. Sure, she had done some crazy things with Chuck, Sarah and the gang, like being the riding crop wielding enforcer at the Buy More or helping them take down Vivian Volkoff when hired as a manuscript expert. The first was just plain fun and the second was done under the auspices of the government. There was always the threat of bodily harm, but there were no real legal ramifications if something went haywire. Not this time. What they were about to attempt to do was not government sanctioned. If anything, it was the opposite of that. If something did go wrong, it could be very bad for them. I think I might be insane.

The nerves she battled left a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. She decided that the swirl of emotions she was experiencing only proved that she was not actually insane. She peeked over at the large man striding next to her. His face shone with excitement and confidence under the fake mustache and glasses and his professionalism and experience made her feel a little better. It didn't keep the stress from overtaking her body, however as she fully expected the handle of her briefcase to sli p from her sweaty hand at any second. Trying to steady herself, she took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.

Apparently her stress signal was heard over her comm. Sarah said into her ear, "Jen, you're doing great. Chuck and I are watching your every step on the security feeds. Remember what we talked about. You're there to do research for a book."

"Right," she answered quietly. She shrugged her shoulders a couple of times in an attempt to loosen the muscles that had tightened.

"All right, you two in the van," Casey addressed Chuck and Sarah, "the only noises we should hear from either of you are ones related to the mission."

Casey's warning salvo caused Sarah to guiltily jump off her husband's lap and return to her own chair.

"Oh, come on Casey," Chuck said, laughing and winking at his wife. "I just put a 'If the van is rockin' don't come knockin'" bumper sticker on it!"

Jen couldn't help but guffaw at that.

"Shut it, Bartowski," Casey replied with a fierce growl, "and get your head in the game. Are you sure our comms won't be detected?"

"Yes, I'm sure," Chuck answered in a confident voice. It was a good thing the two walking toward the building didn't see the wide eyes and shrug he gave his wife after he made his pronouncement. Otherwise, they might have turned and high tailed it back to the van.

"You'd better be right, Bartowski, or once I get out of federal prison in fifteen years, I'm gonna find you and kick your ass," Casey responded in a low, threatening voice. "Walker will be so busy with your geek spawn, she won't be able to protect you."

Their banter distracted Jen, and helped push her churning thoughts, which also included the fear of going to federal prison, out of her head. Instead, she focused on being Jen Hatch, librarian slash researcher slash cover-author.

As the duo approached the entrance, they walked under an overhang and up some steps. Ever the gallant gentleman, Casey opened the door for her to step through first. The sound of her shoes echoed through the lobby as they walked across the white and gray marble CIA seal and headed toward a bank of elevators. Glancing around, Jen noticed the Memorial Wall off to the left. The stars on the wall honoring those who had given their lives for their country helped steel her resolve to see this mission through, no matter what obstacles they might encounter. She longed to go look at open pages of the Book of Honor encased in glass just below the stars, but the mission before them took precedence. Maybe some other time, she thought to herself.

Once they had passed through the lobby, they came to a security area. Obviously, this was as far as anyone without authorization could go. They stopped at a reception desk manned by three security agents.

"Just relax and tell them why you're there," Sarah instructed into Jen's comm.

Addressing the agent who stood from his chair thus making it clear they should speak with him, Jen said in her most professional voice, "Good morning. My name is Jen Hatch and this," pointing to Casey, "is my associate, Professor Peter Boyd. We have authorization to enter the storage area here and examine several artifacts in the Agency's collection." Reaching into her purse, she pulled out the papers she had received from Special Agent David the day before and handed them to the agent.

As he took the permits from her hand, all he said was, "Identification, please."

They each handed him their driver's licenses, hers from California and Casey's from North Dakota. Jen worked to keep her breathing steady as the agent reviewed their documents. The papers from Ziva and her driver's license were authentic, but Casey's ID was a phony as a three dollar bill. She swallowed hard when the agent seemed to look at Casey's license for longer than what seemed necessary. After what felt like an eternity, the agent nodded and returned the papers and identifications back to them.

"We don't get many people here from North Dakota," the agent said. "I had to go to South Dakota once to a facility where they store other artifacts." He shook his head. "There's some crazy stuff there." Picking up the phone on the desk, he punched a button and then spoke quietly. Nodding, he ended the conversation with, "Yes, I'll tell them." Looking back to Jen and Casey, he said, "Agent Abrams will be here momentarily to escort you to the storage area. In the meantime, I need to look through your bag and briefcases. Step right over here, please."

"Certainly, Agent..."

"Agent Schwartz, ma'am."

"Certainly, Agent Schwartz," Jen replied, as she and Casey followed the agent to a table and placed their bags on it.

In her ear, she heard Sarah say, "You're doing great." She wanted to snort and tell her friend she was about to sprint back to the safety of the van, but she instead took another deep breath. If I keep doing that, I'm going to hyperventilate and there's no paper sack to breathe into.

Agent Schwartz searched through her purse and found nothing questionable. Earlier, she had made sure to empty it of anything other than her wallet and the barest essentials. Her briefcase, she knew, would be another matter. The main compartment was filled with papers about Milo Rambaldi, some pictures of him printed out from the web, a sketch pad and a book on Pope Alexander VI. At the bottom of the briefcase there was a ruler, a roll of book tape, a pair of white cotton gloves and scissors. Things were innocuous and expected for a librarian to be carrying, although the agent did confiscate the scissors with a curt, "you'll get these back later." It was the items stored in the small zippered pocket in the lining of the briefcase that made her hope her antiperspirant was working.

Casey stood relaxed next to her as the agent unzipped the pocket, pulled out the contents and methodically placed them on the table. He laid out three pens, a mechanical pencil, two small screwdrivers, a date stamp, a small paint brush, fourteen cents, a pack of gum and two laptop hard drives.

"What are these?" he asked, picking up the computer hardware.

"Those are the drives to my and Professor Boyd's laptops," she answered without elaboration. She had been instructed by Casey and Sarah to only answer questions as asked and nothing more.

The agent looked less than happy. "Why do you have these drives with you?"

"We assumed we wouldn't be allowed to bring our laptops along with us today so we locked them up in our hotel room safes." She paused and waited for a response from Agent Schwartz. His silent stare indicated he needed more information, so she pressed on. "Call us paranoid," she continued, smiling, "but we don't trust those safes. With all the research we've done, we can't lose any of the information we've gathered. Even if someone takes the laptop, we'll still have our work."

It made sense to her. Breathe. She just hoped it would fly with her interrogator. His eyes shifted from her to Casey and then back. "Why didn't you just do a backup onto a thumb drives and leave the drives in the computers?"

Jen's stomach dropped. Good question.

Out in the van, Chuck and Sarah's eyes grew wide as they looked at each other, slightly panicked.

"Interesting, you should ask that, Agent Schwartz," Casey said slowly in a rather nebbish voice, trying to stretch for time. "You see…" he trailed off.

Chuck sat up straight and said quickly into his headset, "Casey, tell him you have some extremely expensive proprietary software on the drives. It can't be copied and you can't afford to lose it." He glanced over to Sarah who gave him an approving smile. He dragged both hands over his face and shrugged again.

Casey smoothly picked up where he had left off, repeating Chuck's words verbatim.

Jen watched the agent consider Casey's words. A tense few seconds passed before he nodded his acceptance of the explanation and set the drives back on the table. "Why the screwdrivers?" he asked Jen.

"We're here to study the artifacts. If allowed, we might need to temporarily remove a piece here and there." Holy crap. Would a Rambaldi artifact even have screws? Wracking her brain, she tried to think. When was the screw invented? There was Archimedes' screw water pump – ancient Greece – that'll slow him down if he asks.

Happily however, he didn't ask her any further questions as he was distracted by Casey. "I have a pair of pliers in my briefcase," Casey offered, he now playing the nervous helper. The imposing former NSA agent and Marine actually giggled. "You never can be too prepared." It was all Jen could do to keep her mouth from dropping open and staring at him.

She then realized that Casey was crazy like a fox. He had effectively shifted the scrutiny from her to himself as Agent Schwartz turned to look through Casey's briefcase.

She moved to pick up her things and put them away, but a warning from Sarah came through her earwig. "Jen, leave the stuff on the table until the agent tells you to pack it back up. You don't want to seem too eager." Jen slipped her hands into the pockets of her slacks instead and tried to look unconcerned as Casey's bag was searched.

The contents of Casey's briefcase were similar to Jen's except for the librarian paraphernalia. He did, however, carry a copy of Maxim with a beautiful blonde Australian actress on the cover. Agent Schwartz's eyes lingered on the magazine, he now completely distracted from his duty. "I like fringe," he mumbled to himself.

Jen managed to keep from rolling her eyes and cleared her throat, snapping him out of his stupor. As if it burned his fingers, he let the magazine drop onto the table. While glancing around to see if his superiors had noticed his momentary lapse of focus, he said, "You can put your things away."

As they had just finished putting their belongings back in their briefcases another agent approached.

"Good morning. I'm Agent Jay Abrams," he said, extending his hand. As Jen shook it, she came to the instant conclusion that he looked more like an accountant than a CIA agent. "I'll be your escort today."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Jen Hatch and this is Professor Peter Boyd. Thank you for granting us permission to come here today. It's quite an honor and privilege to be allowed into this building."

He waved his hand dismissively. "It's no problem. We have researchers come through here occasionally. And it was my boss who gave permission. I'm his assistant." He looked to the other agent and asked, "All set?"

Agent Schwartz nodded and instructed Jen and Casey, "Please step through the metal detector."

Adrenaline shot through her when Jen's comm buzzed in her ear as she walked through the security machine. She was greatly relieved when it, and she, didn't set off the alarm. Casey followed her through the detector only to have it go off. Acting sheepish, he removed his watch and stepped through again. Jen couldn't stop the sigh of relief that came when his second trip though the metal detector was alarm free.

They grabbed their belongings and walked with Agent Abrams toward the elevators. "If you don't mind me asking, what are you researching here at our fine facility?" the agent asked.

Jen looked to Casey who gave her a "you go ahead and field that one" look. Taking the hint, she said, "Professor Boyd and I are writing a book about Milo Rambaldi, the fifteenth century architect and inventor. The CIA is in possession of several of his artifacts and has been gracious enough to give us access to study them."

Agent Abrams became extremely excited at this information. "Rambaldi? You're kidding! I know a little about him." They reached the elevator banks and he pressed the "down" button. Lowering his voice, he said conspiratorially, "I work here at this facility, but what I really want to do is write for television."

Jen bit back the groan that would have coincided with the ones she heard in her ear.

Casey, never breaking character, whispered loudly, "Really! That sounds exciting."

Agent Abrams stood a little taller. The elevator dinged and when the doors slid open, the three of them stepped in and with Abrams pressing the button marked "B." Once the doors were closed and the elevator began its descent, the agent continued proudly, "Yeah, I've got some ideas. One is about a passenger airplane that crashes and a bunch of people get stranded on a deserted island."

Jen frowned. "Didn't they do that on Gilligan's Island?"

Agent Abrams shook his head repeatedly. "No, no, no, not like that. This would be serious. It's a drama," he paused and considered the idea for a moment, "although I'm not sure how interesting it would be to viewers." His face clouded with doubt.

Jen made a face and shrugged one shoulder.

The elevator slowed to a stop and the doors opened. Jen and Casey waited for Abrams to exit and then followed him out. Scanning her surroundings, Jen realized they were standing at the edge of a huge room. It reminded her of a library, only the stacks weren't bookshelves, but rather tall racks of storage shelves that stood from floor to ceiling. Quickly counting, she saw that there were six shelves per rack. There were rows and rows of shelves, with each shelf holding equipment, boxes, artifacts and even some things that looked like out-and-out junk. Each box was carefully labeled with what she could only assume was a location number and other metadata. Everything else not boxed was labeled with a tag or sticker. Although she stopped an outright gasp of excitement, a delighted squeak did manage to escape. It was like she had just stepped into her own personal heaven.

"Down girl," she heard Sarah chuckle through the comm. It was so unexpected that she snorted, which she had to quickly turn into a cough. Abrams and Casey looked at her, but she just waved a hand and croaked, "Sorry. Swallowed funny."

Casey gave her a little scowl, which pulled her back from any further giddiness. She calmed herself and regained her focus.

Abrams stepped over to a computer palced on a table against a wall and sat down. He typed in a string of characters and hit enter. "Okay, you're looking for Rambaldi artifacts." He opened a window to search the collection's catalog and typed "Rambaldi" into the input box. Nearly instantaneously, results popped up on the screen. Over the agent's shoulder, she could see there were five entries listed, each giving the name of the artifact, the date acquired, a description of it and its location in the facility. The printer next to the computer whirred to life and spit out a piece of paper. Grabbing the paper, Abrams stood and scanned it. "Mm-hmm. All the Rambaldi artifacts are this way."

He strode quickly down a center aisle, Jen and Casey trailing behind him. They traveled past rows of shelf racks, their escort continually checking the signs posted high on the ends of each rack displaying the beginning and ending location numbers. He slowed and then made a right turn. Scanning the shelves, he mumbled random strings of letters and numbers to himself as he zeroed in on the objects.

"Ah, here we are!" he eventually exclaimed. He pointed to the objects on the third shelf from the bottom. Jen silently thanked Zacchaeus, the patron saint of short people, noting that she could reach the shelf without the assistance of a ladder or kick stool.

It was actually really cool, she realized as she scanned the shelf, to have the privilege of working with these five hundred year old items. Maybe I really should write a book on Rambaldi someday.

She was pulled from her ruminations when she heard Sarah say, "Jen, we don't have eyes on you now that you're in the stacks. We can only see the main aisle. Clear your throat if you see the laptop."

Jen shifted her eyes quickly to the right of the Rambaldi objects and didn't see it. She looked to the left and then cleared her throat. There the laptop sat, complete with stab wound.

"Roger that," Sarah said. "Are you good to go?"

Jen cleared her throat again as her heart pounded in her chest. How do I keep getting myself into these crazy situations? I'm just a librarian for crying out loud."Well, Agent Abrams, thank you for escorting us here. I'm sure Professor Boyd and I will be okay from here. Do you have a way for us to contact you if we need anything?"

Agent Abrams furrowed his brow and frowned. "I'm sorry. I guess you didn't realize that I'll be here with you the whole time. We can't allow you to stay here without an escort."

"Oh, of course. How silly of me." Sarah had warned her that that would probably be the case, but she'd hoped the storage area might be different. It was worth a shot. "I hope you don't get too bored."

"No, no. I'll help you in any way I can. I'm fascinated by Rambaldi. Maybe I can work up an idea for a TV show that centers around his artifacts. I'll have to read your book when it gets published."

She forced a smile. "That would be great." Her eyes searched the area as she looked for a place where they could work. At the far end of the shelves about twenty feet away, there was a table against the wall.

"Is it okay if we use that table over there to get a better look at these magnificent items?" she asked.

Agent Abrams glanced over his shoulder. "Sure. That's what they're there for. What would you like to look at first? I'll carry it over to the table for you." He patted himself, as if looking for something in one of his pockets. He scowled when he didn't find what he was searching for. "How unfortunate! I forgot my gloves. We'll have to go back to my office."

"Oh, that's no problem," Jen said. She walked over to the table and placed her briefcase on top of the surface. Opening it, she reached in and brought out her white cotton gloves. "I've worked with enough artifacts and manuscripts to know never to go anywhere without these," she said, smiling as she waved them at the agent before putting them on. Don't want any fingerprints on that laptop either.

Agent Abrams pondered the situation, trying to decide if this turn of events was acceptable. Recognizing his hesitation, Casey said, "Ms. Hatch, why don't you go get the clock and bring it here to the table so we can get a better look at it?" He gave her a look and dipped his head.

"Just follow Casey's lead, Jen. It'll be fine," Sarah said in a calm voice.

"Yes, Professor, let's get started." Apparently, Agent Abrams decided that her handling the objects was acceptable since he didn't voice any objections as she walked back to the Rambaldi artifacts and carefully picked up the clock. She lingered for just a moment while she scanned the shelf. An item that looked like a small jewelry box with the name "Irina" inscribed on the lid was right next to the laptop.

Looking back down at the clock in her hand, she realized that she held a priceless artifact. Suddenly, she couldn't wait to get back to the table and put the thing down. Air rushed from her lungs after she gently placed it on the table in front of the two men.

Abrams chuckled. "It's rather nerve-wracking working with these old things, isn't it?"

Jen smiled weakly and gave a small nod.

"Okay," Casey said, pulling on his own set of gloves, "let's see what makes this thing tick."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Back in the van, Chuck and Sarah listened to Jen and Casey discuss the Rambaldi clock for the next half hour. It was clear that although Casey might find Rambaldi boring, he had listened to Jen's "lectures" and thus sounded like an expert. He had even gone so far as to take Jen's drawing pad and sketch the clock.

Pulling off her headset, Sarah said, "He's a very convincing professor."

Chuck nodded. After switching off the microphones on their headsets so they could speak freely, he replied, "I'm sure Jen is happy to know he was paying attention after all."

Sarah closed her eyes and rubbed her fingertips over her forehead a couple of time. Looking at her husband, she said quietly, "Chuck, I sure hope this works." The thought of her friend being apprehended because of them made her stomach tighten. She didn't even want to think about it.

Chuck gently stroked her back and said, "I'm sure it will. Casey's there and we know Jen can handle herself. Remember what she did to Vivian Volkoff and her henchmen."

His touch helped her relax a bit, as did his words. "That's true. She put a bullet in Vivian's shoulder and broke that one guard's nose." She leaned into him and gave him a quick kiss. "You're a very smart man."

He flashed a grin and then schooled his features. "I know," he said solemnly. That response prompted an eye roll and a playful slap on the arm.

"Seriously, though, honey, they'll be okay."

Sarah slipped her headset back on as Chuck flipped the switch to open their mics. They both listened for a moment and when the conversation inside the building lulled, Chuck said, "Casey, is everything okay? Sneeze if things are going according to plan."

They immediately heard a vigorous sneeze and Casey say, "Sorry. I guess the dust got to me."

Relieved, Sarah leaned back in her chair confident that everything was going to be all right.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sketches of the clock had been made and numerous measurements had been taken and noted. It was an exquisite timepiece, obviously made with great love and care. Yet, Jen was disappointed because they had not yet found a reason to get their screwdrivers out. Until that happened, they wouldn't be able to attempt the switch.

She looked over to her partner as he turned the clock over and examined the underside of the wooden base. "Hey, wait a minute!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine excitement. "Abrams, take a look at this!" There was a small panel with two wooden screws holding it in place. Casey gave her a pointed look and said, "Ms. Hatch, please hand me one of your screwdrivers. Let me see if I can get the panel off." Her pulse raced as she unzipped the briefcase pocket and looked at him. Casey raised his eyebrows and nodded. With her left hand she slipped a screwdriver and one of the hard drives into her slacks' pocket while she handed the other screwdriver to Casey.

She then watched over one of Casey's shoulders while Agent Abrams peered over the other as he carefully removed the two small wooden screws and set them on the table. He lifted the wooden piece out to reveal a small hiding place. After peering in, he groaned and leaned back in his chair. The other two looked inside and groaned with disappointment as well. It was empty.

"Whatever was in there was probably taken out long ago," Abrams said sagely.

Casey nodded and said, "Well, I think we've done everything we can with this. Ms. Hatch, why don't you go get one of the other artifacts while I put the panel back on the clock."

"Okay," she said slowly, almost as a question. Casey gave her a nearly imperceptible nod. "I'll be right back."

She was about half way down the aisle when she heard her partner exclaim, "Oh! I'm so sorry! I dropped one of the screws on the floor. Agent Abrams, can you help me look for it?"

"Yes, of course!" the other man replied as he slid out of his chair and dropped to his hands and knees, searching under the table for the errant wooden screw.

"Jen, is everything okay?"

"Yes," Jen whispered. "Casey's got Abrams distracted. I can make the switch."

Jen reached the Irina box and moved a foot past so that she stood right in front of the laptop. It was different than any other computer she had ever seen. Although she wanted to examine it, she didn't dare take the time. Taking a quick peek over her shoulder, she saw Casey and Abrams searching the floor, Abrams' back to her. She flipped the laptop over and taking the screwdriver from her pocket, swiftly removed the screws from the panel which held the drive. Lifting off the cover, she saw the item she had come for. She realized she couldn't take it out with her gloved finger, so she gripped the tip of the glove's middle finger between her teeth and pulled it off. With the glove dangling from her mouth, she quickly removed the drive, placed it next to the screwdriver on the shelf and put the replacement drive where original had been. Making sure she only touched the cover with her still gloved hand she put it back in place. Now that her right hand was free, she was able to quickly screw the panel back in place, put the purloined drive and screwdriver away, slip the glove back on and flip the computer back over. The whole operation had only taken a minute. She just hoped no one noticed that the layer of dust that had once covered the laptop had been wiped away.

Chancing another peek over her shoulder, she saw the two men still searching for the lost screw. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Chuck, Sarah, I got it," she whispered as she picked up the Irina box and headed back toward the table. Once there, she placed the object on the table and said, "I guess I should help you find that screw."

Just as the words left her mouth, Casey called out, "Found it!" He sat back on his heels and held his hand out showing them the screw which lay in his palm. "Little bugger was hard to find."

"You had that in your hand the whole time, didn't you, Casey?" Chuck asked over the comm.

"Yes, indeed," Casey replied aloud, "that little thing was hard to find."

"Well, that's a relief," Agent Abrams chuckled as he stood and brushed the dust from the knees of his pants. "From now on, I think it would be better if you don't take the artifacts apart."

"Agreed," Casey said as he replaced the panel and tightened the screws. He then handed the screwdriver back to Jen who put it back in her briefcase pocket. Unfortunately, that which resided in her pocket stayed there as she was not able to put anything else away without being seen by Abrams. But at least she had been able to make the exchange. Now all they had to do was get out of the building and they would be home free.

After she had returned the clock to its place on the shelf, they spent the next hour examining, sketching and measuring the Irina box. With the switch made, Jen was itchy to get out of there. She knew, however, that they had to continue the charade of being researchers, so she soldiered on. Somehow, Sarah always seemed to know when Jen's anxiety level began to rise, giving her words of encouragement at just the right time.

Finally, Casey stood and stretched as if fatigued from sitting so long. He looked down at his watch and exclaimed, "Wow! It's lunchtime." Looking at Jen he said, "Why don't we run out and get something to eat and come back later?"

"Hey, why don't you come to the cafeteria with me?" Abrams asked. "That way you won't have to go through security again when you come back."

Why not indeed? Thinking quickly, Jen replied, "Thank you, Agent Abrams. That's a great idea, but Peter has forgotten that we have a lunch meeting with our publisher today." Without looking at her watch, she tapped the face of it a couple of times with her finger and said, "We need to meet him in less than an hour."

"Yes, I'd forgotten. Thank you for reminding me," Casey replied in a voice that made Jen look at him twice.

Now that they were clear to leave, Jen couldn't wait to get to the safety of the van. They gathered together their written notes and drawings and quickly shoved them into their bags. Jen felt the point of the screwdriver poke through the pocket of her pants and scratch her thigh. It probably wouldn't be a big deal to slip everything back in her briefcase, but she didn't dare take the chance. They were so close to completing the mission, she didn't want to do anything to blow it now.

With everything picked up and the artifacts placed safely back on the shelf where they belonged, the three of them left the storage area and rode the elevator back to the main floor. When doors slid open, there was a crowd waiting to get on. People sifted through each other until there was one lone man standing in front of Jen, Casey and Agent Abrams.

Their escort blanched.

"Thank you, Agent Abrams," the man said. "You may return to your office downstairs. I'll take over escorting Ms. Hatch and Professor Boyd from here."

"Yes, Agent Decker."