"How're you holding up, babe?" Devon worriedly asked Ellie in the rental car's front passenger seat, where she was slumped against the window, visibly depressed.
"Not good at all," she murmured, sniffing, "I just know the worst has happened to Chuck now. Why didn't I go with him and Sarah when she was upset!? Maybe I could have..."
She broke down. "Ellie, it's not over yet," Morgan leaned over the back seat with a sympathetic glance, "He might still show up OK somewhere."
"Well where the hell are we supposed to look anymore, Morgan!?" she wailed, "We've gone all over the entire Niagara Falls area and got nothing! I don't know what else to do anymore!" She wiped at her eyes before lamenting, "I just feel like I failed him completely not being able to find him...!"
"Babe, come on, don't think that way," Devon put an arm around her, easing the rental car into a parking spot at the bottom of Clifton Hill, "It's not your fault and you know it. I'm just as scared for Chuck as you are, believe me. But whatever happened to him and Sarah, it's nothing we did. OK?"
"OK, I guess," Ellie nodded softly, hugging him, "It's just...I've always felt I needed to look out for him as his older sister. To not be able to do anything for him when it looks like he needs me the most..."
"Yeah, I know, babe. But you're a wonderful sister to him, and nothing can change that," her fiancé assured her. "So anyway, how about we grab a bite to eat? We haven't eaten all day..."
"Sorry, Devon, I'm just not hungry right now," she shook her head.
"I see. Well," he glanced out the window at crowds starting to congregate along the Falls walkway, "I guess they'll have fireworks over the Falls real soon; how about we go watch them for a while? That might take your mind off everything."
"OK," she agreed, giving him another hug before climbing out of the car and following him and Morgan towards the railing. "Awesome, didn't you say the Hornblower Cruise had shut down for the day?" Morgan asked him, squinting through the darkness at the Niagara River far below.
"Uh, yeah, Morgan, why?"
"Well, it looks like there's a boat out there now, and it's definitely too close to the Canadian side to be the Maid of the Mist," Morgan pointed at a dark vessel moving slowly through the water. "Oh yeah, I see it," Devon frowned, "Well, I guess that's a bunch of people who drew VIP tickets for the fireworks or something; probably reserved it in advance. Well, looks like there's a prime viewing spot that way," he pointed down the walkway, "And this'll probably be a great show..."
"You seem tense, Casey," Sarah whispered to him as they continued following an oblivious Hondo down Clifton Hill.
"Whatever gave you that idea, Walker?" Casey shot back.
"I know that look on your face, Casey. You've got something on your mind, I just know it. Care to share?"
"No."
"Casey, we are partners now," she prodded him. Casey sighed. "Let's just say, Walker, I really hope we don't get into a firefight with Bartowski present," he conceded, a nervous look briefly flashing across his face.
"Well I hope not too, Casey. But he's got pretty solid protection with Clarence and the others right now, so I don't see what we have to worry about," Sarah pointed out.
"Just preparing for every contingency," Casey muttered, giving a worried glance over the building of Clifton Hill towards the Skylon Tower. "There he goes," he pointed at Hondo, who was going into the Hollywood Wax Museum, "Hope we can corner him in a back room without endangering any civilians."
"Same here," Sarah nodded, fingering her gun. "Call in the backup," she instructed the Canadian agents.
"Unit Two, suspect is entering Hollywood Wax Museum; proceed with caution," Peter spoke into his radio. The group entered the museum, flashing their badges at the attendants out front, and weaved their way through the exhibits. "Hopefully the Force'll be with us on this arrest," another Canadian agent cracked, pointing at Yoda on a Star Wars display they were passing.
"Not funny," an unamused Casey muttered, drawing his own gun. Hondo could just be seen ahead of them, turning around corner after corner without looking back. Finally, as he approached the darkened movie monsters section, he squeezed past a Frankenstein statue and disappeared into the display. "Something's back there," Sarah mused creeping up close to Frankenstein. She glanced around the edge of the display to see a door rising up in front of Hondo. "Got the secret entrance to the Fulcrum base; call the general," she hissed to Casey.
"Execute, execute," Casey barked softly to Knelman's team, waving the approaching backup up the hall towards them. The agents charged towards the door, pushing their way through it before it could close. "Canadian Secret Intelligence Service, freeze!" Peter, in the lead, shouted at Hondo.
"No, you freeze!" came another shout. At least a dozen Fulcrum agents stood on a ledge above them, pointing heavy firearms at them. And the door now slid shut behind the final backup agent, trapping everyone inside. Laughing coldly, Hondo spun, grabbed the nearest CSIS agent by the throat, and lifted him high in the air. Sarah shuddered at the sound of the man's throat snapping. She drew her gun and fired point blank into Hondo's chest, but it appeared to cause him no harm. Hondo instead merely roared, tossed the now dead Canadian agent against the wall and lumbered towards her. Casey leaped in front of her and emptied his entire clip into Hondo's chest. Roaring and still unphased, Hondo snatched Casey's phone, on which General Beckman's voice could be heard saying, "Please report in, Major Casey, please report in...," and crushed it in his bare hand. He then seized Casey by the collar and flung him hard against the opposite wall. The Fulcrum agents now also started opening fire on the Canadian agents, felling many of them in seconds. Ducking the bullets, Sarah jumped Hondo and gave him several of the hardest kung fu kicks she could muster. These too, however, had no effect on him. Laughing, Hondo shoved her hard on top of Casey. "Hate to say this, Casey," she said grimly to him, wincing at Hondo breaking another Canadian agent's neck in front of them, "but we just might be in big trouble here."
"Well let's go out fighting to the bitter end, Walker," Casey defiantly rose back to his feet-only to then take another tranquilizer dart square to the chest, as did Sarah. "Not again..." he groaned, staring at his chest before the two of them passed out to the floor amid the raging firefight.
"General Beckman, good evening," the commanding officer of Niagara Falls Air Reserve base said to her on her computer.
"Good evening, Colonel Smiley," Beckman said solemnly, leaning back in her office chair, "I must inform you that a mission to stop a dangerous plot that threatens global security in Niagara Falls, Ontario appears to have been compromised; I lost contact with my agents in the middle of what sounded to me like an ambush. We must therefore assume the agents are captured or deceased."
"I see, General," Colonel Smiley nodded softly, "What are you orders, then?"
"Much as I hate to do so, Colonel, I am authorizing you to launch a full airstrike on Niagara Falls to eliminate the doomsday weapon in question," Beckman said gravely, "When can you have your bombers in the air?"
"I can have them loaded and ready to go within fifteen minutes, General. Is this a nuclear strike?" Smiley inquired. Beckman thought hard for a minute. "Negative," she shook her head, "Use extreme high volume conventional explosives instead. Make as many passes as would be necessary to destroy the target."
"You realize of course, General, this could perhaps provoke a full scale shooting war with Canada," Smiley pointed out with a frown.
"I'm well aware of that possibility, Colonel Smiley. But this must be done, unfortunately. You have your orders, Colonel."
"Understood, Madam," Smiley nodded grimly, "ETA on target should be in about thirty minutes from now."
"Good luck, Colonel," Beckman disconnected the feed. "May our children forgive us..." she mumbled, putting her head in her hands.
"Sarah's not picking up," a very worried Chuck complained to the Canadian agents with him in the van, which was pulling to a stop in front of the Skylon Tower, "I've got a bad feeling about this..."
"I'm not getting Denbrock again now either," Veronica also looked worried, staring at her own cell phone, "I hope he hasn't been found out."
"Well let's move, then," Marcus threw the van doors open and led them all in a rush towards the Skylon Tower. They ran through the doors and made a beeline for the elevators. "He said he's on the top floor; let's hope this is an express elevator," the squad leader mumbled, pressing the button for it. With a bing, the door swung open for them. Everyone squeezed inside, Clarence hitting the button for the top floor. "So what's the plan, in case something goes wrong?" he asked the others.
"Just stay locked and loaded," Marcus advised him, drawing his gun and tossing Clarence another, "We need to be prepared in case of an ambush..."
"Guys," Chuck suddenly held up his hand, "You hear something?"
For he had heard a loud hissing sound. And looking up, he saw with horror a large white cloud of gas escaping into the elevator from the overhead air vents. "Oh God, we've been set up!" Marcus gasped. Coughing, he frantically pressed the emergency stop button, but it did not work. Chuck quickly covered his nose and mouth and slumped down to the floor, fighting to stay conscious. The elevator was soon filled with smoke, obscuring his view around, although he could see everyone else collapse coughing to the floor himself, and a confused Tag, whom the gas apparently did not affect, howling in fear. Finally, the elevator came to a stop at the top floor. Strong arms grabbed Chuck once the door opened and dragged him into the revolving restaurant on top of the structure. "Welcome, everyone," came a cold voice, "We've been expecting you."
"Denbrock you traitor, did you sell out too!?" Marcus raged at Knelman's second in command, whom Chuck recognized from earlier in the week, standing over them with a dark grin.
"McNall and I got a better offer from Fulcrum. And now that he's gone, I get everything he would have gotten too. Goodbye, Marcus," Denbrock drew his gun. Marcus quickly pulled out his own and fired, but missed, the gas clearly having affected him. Shaking his head confidently, Denbrock shot him three times in the chest, sending him down face first to the floor. "Them too," Denbrock told two more shadowy figures behind Tim and Veronica, who put guns to the back of their heads. Horrified, Chuck jammed his eyes shut before the shots rang out. He waited for another bullet to take him out. Instead, Denbrock's hands grabbed him, hauled him up, and hurled him into a chair. "Chuck Bartowski, I was hoping you'd come," Denbrock said to him, keeping him at gunpoint nonetheless, "There's a certain member of our unit who's been looking forward to meeting you."
"Don't you harm...!" a coughing Clarence tried to stagger towards Chuck, but was met with two pistols in the face from his partners' shooters. "Look, don't hurt him," Chuck tried to plead with Denbrock, "He's not a menace to anyone..."
"I know. I've seen his record; he's a pathetic coward who couldn't harm a fly, the worst excuse for a spy I've ever seen. Put him out of his misery," Denbrock ordered the other Fulcrum agents, who seized Clarence by the arms and dragged him with great difficulty towards the wall. "No, please, don't...!" Chuck rose up and tried to run to Clarence's aid...
...but suddenly the ninja who'd attacked him in Sarah's room leaped into his path from the corner of the restaurant without warning. With a loud yell, he delivered a hard karate kick to Chuck's chest, sending him sprawling over a table. "I'd been hoping this moment would come, Chuck Bartowski," he said coldly in a very familiar voice.
"Wait a minute..." Chuck stumbled back upright and stared in shock at the ninja, "No way...it couldn't be..."
"Oh yes it could, Chuck Bartowski," grinning darkly, Harry Tang pulled off his mask, "Surprised to see me?"
"Well, yeah. Having you be this guy is really, really, way, way, way out of left field," Chuck protested, "I thought you were in Hawaii!?"
"I was. Then I realized that filthy John Casey had tricked me to get me out of your hair, Chuck," Tang told him coldly, "I should have known you'd play dirty to get me out of the Buy More and away from you. And I knew you had to pay for it. So I joined Fulcrum after they reached out to me and went through their top flight training regiment. Once I graduated to field action, I was going to go back to Burbank and finish you there. But as luck would have it, our paths have crossed again here and now. And so now, I am finally going to destroy you once and for all, Chuck."
"Well, as far as revenge fantasies go, this, this really has to take the cake as far as I know," Chuck murmured, slowly inching backwards away from Tang, "But you know what, Harry, I'll have to take a rain check on being destroyed once and for all right now; I've got more important things to do at the moment. And besides, I'm still a very important person at the Buy More, so if Big Mike finds out you're out to get me-and I do have him on speed dial-he'll probably drop the hammer on you..."
With another loud yell, Tang leaped at him and kicked him in the chest again, sending him flying backwards. Chuck desperately grabbed a chair and held it out in front of himself in defense. His former Buy More co-worker, however, quickly smashed it to pieces with several successive karate chops. "Uh, Clarence, a little hand here if you could, buddy!" he desperately called to the Canadian agent, breaking into a run away from Tang.
"Coming, Chuck!" Clarence quickly swung hard haymakers into the faces of the two Fulcrum agents alongside him, making them howl and drop their weapons. He then grabbed them and conked their heads together, then shoved them aside. "Neil McNeil pride!" he shouted, dropping into a three point stance and charging Denbrock. The lead Fulcrum agent tried to level his gun at Clarence, but was speared hard off his feet by him. "Tag, cover him!" Clarence called to his dog. Tag, however, instead leaped up on a table and started helping himself to a leftover piece of ham. "Oh some help you are again!" Clarence rolled his eyes.
"Clarence!" Chuck cried to him again, running in circles around the restaurant with Tang hot on his heels. Clarence charged Tang and wrapped his arm around him, but yelped and staggered backwards when Tang kicked him where it hurt. Tang then did a spectacular front flip over Chuck, landing right in front of him. Before Chuck could react, he was devastated with an endless barrage of chops and kicks that sent him tumbling onto a table by the window. "It's over, Chuck," Tang taunted him, crouching into position to spring at him, "You cannot win. Prepare to be destroyed."
Chuck, realizing there wasn't much else he could do, jumped back to his feet, raised his foot off the floor, and put both hands over his head like Daniel LaRusso. He swayed to keep his balance, just managing to do so until Tang lunged at him with a loud roar. With a deep breath, Chuck leaped in the air and swung the hardest bicycle kick he could manage at his former co-worker...
...which unfortunately missed Tang's face completely, and also caused Chuck to lose his balance and fall flat on his back on the floor. "You really thought that would work, Chuck!?" Tang all but laughed at him.
"Not completely, Harry, but figured it was worth a try," Chuck groaned, rubbing his sore back.
"Might want to point out, though, in real life karate competition, The Karate Kid's climactic crane kick would be considered a disqualifying move," Clarence pointed out from the corner, "Just so you..."
"Shut up, fat man!" Tang threatened him. "Finish him!" he shouted to Denbrock, who grabbed Clarence into a chokehold from behind and put his gun to his head. Tang unlocked and threw open the nearest window. Chuck's eyes went wide at the realization of what that almost certainly meant. "No, no, Harry, don't!" he pleaded as Tang grabbed him and lifted him over his head, "How about we try something quick and painless to finish me, like dropping that piano in the corner there on my head!" he desperately pointed at it.
"Look at it this way, Chuck; you're still a loser and always have been. I'm just putting you out of your misery this way," Tang snarled, angling Chuck's body directly for the open window and the almost two hundred foot drop to the ground below, "And the impact should kill you right away without pain, if that comforts you at all. Goodbye, Chuck Bartowski…!"