T/N: Here's another chapter. Call me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You can't be busy in Lumberton, OR.

Nik

The limo was ready when they walked out of the elevator into the lobby. Carina's dress was short, black and it was a good thing she'd bought a heavy cloak or she'd have, as Chuck mentioned, 'frozen her assets off'.

The drive to the Trade Center was short and Chuck instructed the limo driver to return and wait for them in two hours. He took Carina's hand in his and they walked into the lobby and followed the signs to the party on the top floor.

Chuck took her cloak and did a double take on the dress, what there was of it. "Carina, you are going to give people a heart attack with that dress. My God, you're …beautiful. It…I'll shut up now and find the cloakroom. No cloak and dagger until I get back, OK?" She giggled at his play on words and walked a few feet away until she could survey the guests.

Chuck walked up and joined her and together they entered the room already packed with couples. He leaned over and whispered to Carina to turn on the recorder in her purse and then snagged her a champagne cocktail and asked the waiter for a domestic beer in a glass and continued on into the party.

He flashed on Dimitri Yurgaz who was already heading for Carina. "Remember, you're my date for this evening. Faith has food poisoning and is unable to attend, so attend me, and don't run off with the marks, please."

She looked up at him and giggled and then walked to meet Dimitri Yurgaz and introduce him to Chuck.

After the introductions were made and Faith's absence and Carina's presence explained a visibly disappointed Yurgaz led them back to a table where his boss, Victor Durshku was holding court, surrounded by flunkies and floozies that seemed common to all Eastern European criminal gatherings.

"Ah, Mr. Barton, Dimitri has told me you have an interest in leasing office space here in the Center for a software company? That is good. How many square feet are you looking for?" He was more interested in Carina's display of wares than in leasing office space but then that was the whole idea, keep him off the subject.

"About 10,000 square feet to begin with and possibly more as we increase sales and begin to add technical assistance reps. A 2-year lease and option for another 2-years would be ideal." Durshku was not listening but Yurgaz was writing notes in a daytimer. Chuck wondered if his original impression of Yurgaz was incorrect.

"Mr. Barton, what software are you developing?" Yurgaz again.

"I've licensed the Bartowski Process for limited sales in Central and South America with options for the old Soviet Bloc countries. I'm especially interested in Eastern Europe as that's where the new growth will come from. Old Europe is just that, old. And Russia? Corrupt. A bully refusing to allow their former provinces autonomy and independence. Look what they've done in Chechnya and Georgia. Disgraceful. But, I'm sorry. Politics is not for a cocktail party. My apologies."

His comments piqued Durshku's interest. "You agree with the independence movements in Chechnya and Georgia? Why? Why shouldn't they be brought back into the circle of the Russians?"

"Because they're not Russians. They're a different people subjugated since Lenin's time and they have a right to a free determination of their futures. They fight for freedom from Russian domination. And no one helps them, just like Hungary in 1956."

Durshku smiled and stood and offered Chuck his hand. "We will talk business, Mr. Barton. You have captured the essence of our struggle. Very rare for an American. I think I have contacts who might help you in the development of your distribution network." He was positively salivating at the prospects of bringing a legitimate company into his homeland. This Barton could be very valuable in the future.

Carina had wandered off with Dimitri when Durshku had offered his hand to Chuck. He was no longer needed. They were dancing and he was trying very hard to convince her to come with him 'for a night on the town'.

"And what do you do, Mr. Durshku, other than lease real estate?"

"Mr. Barton, I own warehouses for shipping, you can see them from here, and a few tugs but am looking to acquire partners for a venture in spot oil speculation. A few 'friends' of my country are interested in manipulating oil prices through spot investments. The minimum investment is $5,000,000US. I am looking for additional investors who are friendly to our cause. Perhaps…?"

Chuck had a pretty good idea of why the attack would take place and who would benefit. He needed to put together a roster of the parties and countries that made up the 'friends'.

Chuck was following Durshku to the windows overlooking the river. He pointed out several warehouses that were near where Yurgaz had first met Carina. A little sneak and peak suddenly appeared on the schedule of events.

"Mr. Durshku, I'm intrigued by your spot investment idea and would like to perhaps participate but my country would lock me up if I were to invest cash with a government they have listed as terrorists instead of freedom fighters. Perhaps an intermediary could be arranged to handle cash transactions?"

"Ah, Mr. Barton, you have the right idea and have found the right man. How much would these transactions amount to?"

"Initially $10,000,000US but that would be an initial amount. Depending on results, twice as much more quarterly. Assuming a reliable and secure intermediary was in place."

"Let us meet tomorrow and discuss this. What hotel are you staying at?"

They arranged a luncheon meeting for 11am. Chuck didn't expect to make the meeting. He expected Durshku to be in custody within hours.

Chuck excused himself to find Carina and dance and Durshku went back to his table and his flunkies, glad to have met an insightful American of means.

They danced for a half hour while Chuck flashed and recited information for the benefit of Carina's recorder. Occasionally he leaned over and whispered something in her ear or nibbled at it to give the impression that more was going on than a mere business association. After two hours they had all the intel they could get, Chuck was getting a headache from the constant flashing and Carina suggested, actually demanded, that they leave.

Royal Sonesta Hotel
New Orleans, LA

When they got back to the hotel Chuck made a beeline for his shaving kit and took two pills the CIA doctors had prescribed for his headaches. Thirty minutes later they had done their magic. Noting the time but not caring, he called Graham and related the evening's activities and his suspicions.

"Talley, you need to see what's in those warehouses. If what you think is true about the reasoning behind the planned attacks, we need to crush every aspect of their operation. I'm sending you two teams of agents for backup. They should report in to you by 2pm tomorrow. Good work. Now, buy a damned watch. It's after midnight here. Email me the report."

By 1am he'd finished his report, listened again to their intel recording and then erased it. Carina was soaking in the tub, probably asleep, and he wanted nothing more than to crash but wanted a shower to wash off the scum he'd picked up associating with the marks.

"Hey, Shortstuff, you fall asleep in there?" He knock on the door but heard no answer so he opened it and called her name again. No response.

'She always does this. Temptation should be her name, not Carina.'

He walked in and sure enough, she was asleep. The water would be getting cold and a cranky Carina was not something he wanted to put up with so he took down one of the huge thick towels from the heated towel bar and softly called her name, hoping to wake her. Nope. She slept like a log. Strange for a spy but she did.

"Carina, please. The water's getting cold and you'll be freezing your fanny off. Come on, Carina. This is getting old. Quit with the 'let's tempt Chuck' stuff and get up. Here, I won't look."

She woke up and immediately complained about the water temperature and how cold she was. He wrapped her in the warmed towel and lifted her out of the bathtub like a child and set her on the bed.

"Get dried off and then I need you awake to listen to what the Pimp's plans for us are."

"Fine. Help me?" She had to stay in character. He was so cute when he was flustered.

"No, Carina. You're a big girl and I'm a big married guy. I'm going to take a shower so please be reasonably awake and clothed when I'm done. Please? I'm dead tired and the headache is back. I wonder why?" He gave her a pointed look.

"OK, Jesus, I get it. Go, shower. You stink."

She called Sarah to let her know the op was over and successful and he was OK.

"Talley, secure."

"Hansen, secure. It's done. He's fine. Just a headache. He did really well, Sar. Really good. We found out a lot of good intel, identified a bunch of bad guys and also a bunch of foreigners who are bankrolling this operation. He's in the shower. We should be home as soon as Faith's up and about. I'll call you again tomorrow. How are you feeling, sis. Seriously?"

"Fine. I'm so happy this is over, Carina. I guess my 'bad vibes' were just hormones. I'll talk with you tomorrow. Thanks for watching his back."

"Well, I'd rather be washing his back, but he's so damned married…"

Sarah laughed and hung up. She felt – light-hearted and worry-free for the first time since they'd received the warning order. She'd planned on an early night but stayed up waiting for their calls. Tomorrow, well later today, she'd call for an OB/GYN referral from the 'selected listing' maintained by the Agency.

Royal Sonesta
New Orleans
2pm

"Chuck, there's some guy on the house phone, says he has to speak to Art's nephew. I think it's the 'reinforcements' you mentioned. Should I tell him to come up or should we meet them downstairs in the lobby?"

"Lobby. I'll need to see them before they see us just 'in case'. I know Art sent them but…I don't trust your foster pops one bit."

"I agree, I'll go down to the lobby. But I think you're being too hard on Art. He's taken good care of us, got us a fine replacement for Larkin and he's supported us all the way."

"Fine, Shorts, you trust him for both of us. Just…be careful. He'd sell his mother for a successful op."

Carina just sighed in resignation. There was no way she could ever win this argument, not after Sand Springs and Mexico and Miami, especially not after Miami.

"I'll go down to the lobby and you follow a few minutes later and hang back and flash if necessary. I'll ask for whoever called our suite and you can ID them."

Lobby

Eric Pope was nervous. This was only his third assignment and he'd almost crapped his drawers when he'd been summoned to the Director's office. "Agent Pope, you and your team of agents are going to New Orleans as backup and augments to an action team already in place. You will take orders from any, repeat, any, of the three team members although Agent Talley is senior and runs the show."

"Yes, Director, and our assignment is…?"

"You'll be briefed when you get there. One of the agents is already in the hospital but should be back in place within a week. Report to Agent Talley or Agent Hansen at the Royal Sonesta. You have reservations there and your team will be split as usual. You've done well on your previous two assignments. This one is the most crucial you'll face in your career. That is all."

"Yes, Director." As he started to leave, he was already formulating his warning order for his 'team' when the Director called him back.

"There is one more thing. Your team is expendable and Agent Talley is not. Do you understand what I'm telling you, son? If things go to crap, Agent Talley must survive. He has a tendency to throw himself in Harm's Way for his team members. That must not be allowed. If there is only a single survivor, it must be Talley. Understood?"

"Yes, Director." He must have given some sign or indication of hesitation because the Director's next sentence almost made him vomit.

"If Talley is…if capture appears imminent, kill him. If he is taken, pursue and extract. If extraction is not possible, kill him. Understood?"

"Um, Director, kill him?"

"Yes. Make sure the other members of your teams understand the orders before leaving Langley. Do not discuss them with Talley's team. None of you would leave the room alive."

Now, as he waited in the Lobby for a call from the senior agents' suite, his thoughts turned to his team and mostly to his partner. Their reactions had been almost predictable when he briefed them in during their flight on the small CIA courier aircraft.

"Guys, I'll tell you all I know. We're going to New Orleans to join up with a senior team already in place and mid-mission. They're a trio of experienced operators but one is in the hospital. We four are subordinate to the senior team and its senior agent, Charles Talley."

He'd watched their faces as they assimilated their briefing. His partner, Amanda Blaine, was stone-faced as usual, only her blue eyes betraying the turmoil she felt. She'd run up against Charles Talley in Atlanta and it hadn't been pretty. He'd blown her cover in the course of his mission and she'd had no choice but to extract back to Langley. She'd been deep cover for a year and Talley had taken her Fulcrum mark out as a sidebar to the main event.

She'd complained to the Director personally and been told, nicely at first but then bluntly when she didn't 'take the hint', to grow up and quit her bitching or quit. Talley's mission had been the more critical and her mark had been collateral damage. Talley's objective was to eliminate any Fulcrum operatives and she'd been 'lucky' he'd hesitated or she'd have been dead, too.

Anne Childs and Ron Downs both nodded. They'd been at the Academy when Talley's exploits and missions had been 'teaching aids' for some of their training scenarios. Their faces showed excitement and nervousness. Everyone knew that Team Talley was the point of the spear and only drew the most difficult domestic missions, usually those involving terrorists or Fulcrum, sometimes a mixture, like Atlanta.

The only sound in the plane was Eric's voice as he outlined their mission requirements, specifically that they, Team Pope, were expendable. Their faces were unmoved but there were gasps from Anne and Ron when he gave them the 'secret' part of the briefing, that Talley was to be terminated in the event of capture. Only Amanda Blaine smiled.

Now Eric stood like a kid outside the principle's office waiting to be called in. His eyes followed each person getting off the elevator. A female agent named Hansen had told him, curtly, to 'wait in the lobby and he'd be met'.

And so he waited.