A/N: Before you start, I know. It's been a really, really long time since I've posted an update to this story. I've been preoccupied by another little story I'm writing (OK, and the one before that). Hopefully this will tide you over for a little while longer. I don't know how frequently I'll be able to put out another update to this story, but I'll try not to wait so long for the next one.
I could do a re-cap, to get you caught up, but where's the fun in that? Click that "PREV" button at the bottom and reread Chapter 11. Or, better yet, start over at Chapter 1. It's probably been long enough that you forgot a lot of it (I did :\ )
Disclaimer: Don't own Chuck
Chapter 12
"Well... we could always get those two NSA analysts you used when we were stuck in Gadamis. What were their names…. Patel and Barnes?" Chuck asked, not bothering to hide the grin on his face. The team was sitting in the waiting room of a secure medical facility, trying to pass the time as they awaited word on Zondra's surgery. Tensions were high, so Chuck wanted to try and lighten the mood a little by teasing Casey.
"Oh, for fuck's sake. Those ass-clowns?" Casey barked. "If they're lucky, the only chatter they're picking up is corn growing from some listening post in Iowa. Christ!" Casey shook his head in disgust. "The wild goose chase those idiots sent us on."
"Oooh. Now, it was an honest mistake. Libya…. Liberia. They practically sound the same," Chuck mused, enjoying every bit of rubbing it in. It only caused Casey to grumble all the more.
"A hell of a lotta good an evac does when it's in the WRONG DAMN COUNTRY!" Casey bellowed. He quickly put his hands up in front of him, taking a cleansing breath, trying to regain his calm.
"So, what you're saying is, my suggestion could be a lot worse?" Chuck twisted his lips, trying to keep the smirk at bay. Casey just closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. The deliberate breathing through his nose made it quite clear that Casey was losing the battle at finding that calm.
"So help me, Bartowski. If I have to see that bare-assed yard gnome while I'm havin' my mornin' coffee…" he trailed off, the edge in his warning not missed by anyone present. Sarah and Carina were watching with amusement at the exchange between their partners. They welcomed the distraction as they'd been waiting for hours to hear the results of Zondra's surgery.
"I've curbed him of that… for the most part. 'Al Buffo' should be a thing of the past, but I'll make sure to have a talk with him. Nobody needs to witness that standing in front of the fridge in the middle of the night." Chuck's whole body shivered at just the thought.
"OK. I'm completely lost," Carina interjected. "Who is it we're talking about exactly?"
"Corporal Morgan Grimes," Casey offered reluctantly, groaning miserably.
"Morgan? Really? Hey! I like Morgan. He's a good guy," Sarah retorted, coming to the defense of the man that had both helped rescue her and was there for her when Chuck was in surgery.
"Thank you," Chuck said, gesturing toward Sarah, a huge grin on his face.
"Is he really that bad? I mean… is he a liability?" Carina asked, looking between her teammates. Rolling his eyes, Casey bobbed his head from side to side.
"Noooo… In the field, he's solid. Hell of a sniper; almost as good as me. Almost. Damn good at strategy and logistics. He's just an annoying little troll," Casey added, chuckling to himself.
"Oh, come on Casey. He looks up to you. He just wants to impress you is all. He'll come around. You'll see," Chuck declared, nodding his head in reassurance. The older man grumbled, muttering something unintelligible under his breath.
"Fiiiiiine. Make the call. Don't make me regret this, kid." Chuck clapped his hands in excitement but quickly turned sober.
"Hold on. Only if it's OK with the rest of the team. Sarah? Carina?" Chuck asked, looking between the two. Sarah and Carina looked at one another, having a silent conversation. Carina's eyes opened wide, giving a minute shrug that was barely perceptible to the two men. Sarah gave her a small grin and a nod. In response, Carina raised an eyebrow and shrugged with indifference.
"Make the call," Sarah replied, giving Chuck a wink.
"Wait. What about Zondra? Should we wait for her input?" Chuck inquired glancing between his teammates.
"I think she'll be good with it. Ultimately, we trust you, Chuck," Sarah admitted, giving him a broad smile. "You've had our backs since this team began; some of us even longer. If you trust Morgan, then I trust Morgan." Chuck returned the smile then turned his attention to the other group members. Carina nodded with a grin and Casey just waved him off. With that, Chuck called General Beckman to give her their recommendation for their new team member.
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Sarah sat in the chair beside Zondra's bed, her elbows on her knees with her head resting in her hands. She kept playing over the events of the previous night in her mind, wondering what she could have done differently to prevent it. The rest of her team had already assured her there was nothing; not that it stopped her mind from wandering. Maybe they should have left Castle, found a different place to lay low. Hindsight was always 20/20, but the truth was that nobody anticipated that kind of response. More than thirty well-armed, trained mercenaries descended on that house, leaving fifteen agents dead or wounded, not including Zondra. Had it not been for their quick action, the death toll could have been far worse. Just as her mind started down that dark rabbit hole, a soft knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts. Lifting her head, she saw Chuck walking in, his hands in his pockets.
"Hey. How's she doin'?" he asked, stopping beside Sarah, smoothing her hair back.
"Still sleeping. What are you doing up? It's gotta be-"
"8:15AM. You've been up all night. You need to go get some sleep. I'll sit with her in case she wakes up. I promise I'll come get you. OK? Please." Chuck's pleading look and her own exhaustion made it hard to argue. She wanted to be there for her friend, but if she didn't get some sleep, she wouldn't be any good to anyone. Letting out a sigh of resignation, she nodded her head.
"As soon as she wakes up," she demanded, pointing at Chuck with a stern glare.
"Yes, Ma'am," he answered with a nod. When she stood, he wrapped her in a hug, cradling the back of her head in his hand. She practically melted into him, the warmth of his body against hers, the firm but gentle embrace made her feel so safe and comforted, and, after the night they'd had, she needed it.
"Too bad you can't join me," she murmured against his shoulder.
"Yeah, that sounds good on paper, but I suspect you'll have better luck sleeping if I'm not there," Chuck replied, chuckling against her hair. Pulling away and looking up at him, Sarah huffed in mock offense.
"Are you insinuating that I might have ulterior motives?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
Chuck snorted, shaking his head. "No, but I would. Now, off to bed. They have a map at the nurse's station. They can show you the way." Sarah nodded, giving a small pout.
"Alright." Chuck leaned down and gave her a soft kiss on the lips, cupping her cheek in his hand.
"Night." Sarah waved goodbye, looking over her shoulder at Zondra's sleeping form as she left. Walking toward the nurses' station, she nearly ran into Casey as he popped around the corner.
"Hey, Walker. Anything?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No. Still the same. Chuck's in there with her now." Casey gave a grunt of understanding, nodding his head.
"Good. Go get some shuteye. You look like hell." Sarah gave him a flat look to which Casey rolled his eyes. "Come on. I'll show you to your bunk."
"Bunk?" she asked. "I go from a lavish master suite with a king-sized bed - which I never got to use- to a ...bunk?"
"Don't get your panties all in a twist. It's not so bad. The 'beds' are nice enough. No Egyptian cotton for her majesty, but it's a private room at least." Casey chuckled to himself, clearly proud of his joke. Sarah just followed him through the maze of hallways, taking note of the turns and various landmarks that would help her find her way back.
Exiting through a set of double doors, they entered into a long hallway lined with doors. A quarter of the way down on the right, Casey stopped and opened the door to room 006B. It looked like a hospital room, minus all of the equipment. The bed was a standard full-sized bed, not your typical hospital bed, with a night stand, bedside light and a small dresser along the far wall. There was another door inside which led to a private bathroom. Peeking in, it looked rather institutional, with a toilet, vanity and a shower stall. It wasn't four-star, but it could be a lot worse. She noticed her duffle bag was on the bed, filled with what belongings she was able to pack as they left in a hurry.
"Get some sleep. You need it. Bartwoski'll come get ya if she wakes up." Casey and Sarah shared a nod before he started out of the room. Stopping at the doorway, he turned to face her.
"You did good last night. Real good. Not just at the house, but all of it. Good to have you on the team." Looking rather awkward, he fidgeted with the door handle before nodding and closing the door as he left. Sarah just stood in shock, trying to process what had just happened. John Casey, the hard-ass that he was, just gave her a compliment. That was big. He wasn't one to shower people with praise for doing their job. Hell, he wasn't one to shower praise, period. So to have him give her that compliment meant a lot. Still, she was too tired to try to unpack what that meant, just as she was too tired to unpack her bag. Tossing it on the floor beside the dresser, she kicked off her shoes, pulled back the covers and crawled in.
The bed was rather comfortable, though she supposed the floor would seem comfortable at that point. She'd been up for more than twenty-four hours and had been in two separate gun fights, a high-speed chase on the freeway and watched one of her only friends nearly bleed to death. To put it mildly, it had been a day. Before she could dwell on it any longer, she drifted off to sleep.
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It was nearing lunch time and Chuck was busy typing away on his laptop, or rather a laptop he snagged from Castle on their way out. He didn't have much in the way of personal possessions, having gone straight to Castle after being discharged from the hospital, so he grabbed the few clothes they had provided and a laptop, along with a few gadgets from the basement of their "not-so-safehouse" before they departed.
For the past several hours, Chuck had been sitting by Zondra's side, frequently sparing a glance to check on her as he worked diligently. He'd been trying to find out who the people were from last night's attack, who they worked for and where the hell Bryce Larkin was. From the preliminary reports the NSA made after last night's cleanup, they had identified several of the dead as belonging to a paramilitary group out of Moldova; guns for hire. Since dead men tell no tales, they would be of little help. Although, a cell phone was recovered from one of the bodies, likely a burner, but they might be able to track some of their movements prior to the raid based off cell tower triangulation.
Without a clear angle of attack, Chuck felt helpless just sitting there with no leads to follow. Bryce, despite being a monumental asshole, was a good spy. Since his disappearance last night, Bryce had covered his tracks, stayed away from security cameras and, for all intents and purposes, vanished into thin air. Chuck replayed the videos he'd shared with the team last night, looking for anything he missed, coming up empty. Once Bryce had entered that cemetery, he was gone. Casey had sent a team to check the cemetery but, as they suspected, there was nothing there to find. Chuck knew that Bryce had made a phone call while at the consulate, the one that Sarah had overheard. Perhaps he might be able to find a trace on that call. At the moment, they had nothing but time, so he'd explore every avenue he could.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed movement, pulling him away from his investigation. Closing the lid on his laptop and setting it aside, he stood to step closer to the bed. Zondra was slowly stirring, grimacing as her eyes fluttered open. Squinting, she looked around, surveying her surroundings. Seeing she was no longer in danger, she turned and looked up at Chuck, letting out a huff, the corners of her mouth turning up slightly.
"Chuckles. Can you turn that smile down? It's bright enough in here," she grumbled, her voice hoarse. Chuck gave a chuckle.
"I can go turn off the lights-" he began as he turned to walk toward the light switch. He stopped abruptly when he felt her hand grip his wrist. Turning his attention back to Zondra, he bent down closer so she wouldn't have to strain to be heard.
"What is it? Can I get you something? A nurse?" She shook her head, wincing a little.
"Is… the team. Are they…?" she trailed off, searching his eyes to see if she could find the answer to her unasked question. Chuck gave her a soft smile, placing his hand on top of hers.
"You're the only one that tried to stop a bullet the hard way. Everyone else is fine. Worried sick about you, but fine." She relaxed, letting out a sigh of relief. With pursed lips, she nodded, trying hard to push back her emotions. "Hey. You're gonna be alright. You're safe now. From what Sarah says, getting that Celox in your wound, it probably saved your life. You did a damn good job.
"Speaking of Sarah, I promised to get her when you woke up. It was the only way I could get her to leave your bedside. Her and Carina were taking turns watching you sleep. Not … not in a creepy way. You know, like I was…" he trailed off, waiting to see if she got the joke. Her snort, followed by a wince, let him know that she hadn't missed it. He was hoping to lighten the mood. Having been where she was, being surrounded by the sterile hospital room and sad visitors, it was nice to have a laugh to take your mind off of it.
"I can go get her and let the nurse know you're awake," Chuck added, trying to pull away from her grip. She was resistant, still holding on to his arm.
"What happened? At the house? Where are we now?" He could see that she was concerned and a little confused, likely still groggy from the anesthetic. He gently removed her hand from his arm and gave it a squeeze.
"Sarah's the one that found you. I'll let her tell you all about it. You're in a secure medical facility and we're making sure it stays that way. So, all you need to worry about is getting better. We'll be here with you until you do. OK?" She gave him a small smile and nodded, giving his hand a quick squeeze before letting go.
"You'd better go. If Blondie catches you in here holding my hand ...well, there isn't enough room in this bed for two gunshot victims." Chuck couldn't help but laugh, her humor setting him at ease as well.
"Eh… I'm not worried. She's just gonna have to get used to me caring about my friends." With that, he gave her a wry smile and stepped out of the room, reveling in the fact that he'd left her speechless. Zondra was never speechless, so he'd savor it while he could. Chuck made his way to Sarah's room after notifying the nurse on duty that Zondra was awake.
Standing outside room 006B, he knocked softly, conflicted about waking her but also fearful of the consequences of going back on his promise. With no response, he quietly opened the door to see Sarah curled up in bed, fast asleep. Closing the door behind him, he made his way to the bed, sitting down beside her. He couldn't resist pushing some stray hairs behind her ear to get an unobstructed view of her face. She looked so peaceful, so innocent, when she slept. Like the weight of the world had been lifted. Caressing her cheek and leaning down to place a sweet kiss to her forehead, she began to stir. Stretching with a groan, she cracked her eyes open with a pout, trying to focus on who was sitting with her.
A huge grin spread across her face and she let out a hum, "Mmmm. Hey you."
"Hey, Gorgeous. Sorry to wake you, but Z's awake if you wanna go see her," Chuck whispered, trying not to barrage her senses just after being woken up. She forced her eyes open wide, trying to wake herself up. Nodding, she threw the covers off and sat up. "I'll go wait outside while you get-".
'Sit!" she demanded, pointing at the bed beside her with a furrowed brow. 'I'm not done with you yet." With that, she stood, took a toiletry bag from her duffle and padded her way into the bathroom, closing the door. Chuck waited patiently, not wanting to move for fear of incurring her wrath. After only five minutes, she came out looking refreshed. Making her way back to him, she stopped in front of him.
"Hi," she cooed. Not waiting for a response, she straddled his lap, placing a knee on either side of his hips. Before he knew what was happening, she had pushed him down on the bed, her lips pressed against his. Giving in, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer as the kiss continued. After a long moment, she slowly pulled away to look into his eyes.
"I know that things didn't work out as we'd hoped last night. Right now, I'll just have to settle for this. But I promise... soon." She pressed another soft kiss against his lips. When they parted, he licked his lips, savoring the taste of her.
"Sarah, look… it's been a long time, but I can wait. I don't want you to feel like I'm pushing this. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to rush." She placed a finger on his lips, holding it there until he relented and allowed her to speak.
"Speak for yourself. I'm more than ready. You have no idea how much I've thought about our time together. Not just that, but it's been a long… long time, Chuck. If you know what I mean? After you I… I couldn't…" she trailed off, looking away. Chuck placed his hand on her cheek, pulling her gaze back to his.
"Wait a minute. What?" he asked, clearly shocked by what she was implying.
"After you… after we… I just couldn't." Sarah looked away, licking her lips as she continued. "There was once when I thought I should try… but it was no use. I stopped before it ever started… It wasn't you," she confessed, lifting her gaze to meet his. He looked completely dumbfounded, his mouth moving but not knowing what to say. "Look, I don't expect you to have-"
"I haven't," he interrupted, shaking his head emphatically. Now it was Sarah's turn to look gobsmacked.
"What?" she asked incredulously, her brow furrowing in confusion.
"Not once," he declared, staring deep into her eyes.
"R-really?" she asked at just above a whisper, the corners of her mouth starting to turn up.
"Not since you. Not that there haven't been invitations, mind you, but … I just wasn't interested." She gave him a flat look, clearing not convinced. "What can I say? You've ruined me for all other women. I…" he paused catching himself. "I missed you." Sarah gave a huff, pursing her lips, nearly on the verge of tears.
"I missed you too," she breathed out. She kissed him again, this time squeezing him with her whole body. Ordinarily, that would be most welcome, but with his injuries that were still healing, it was getting a little uncomfortable.
"Mmmm. Umm… not that this wouldn't normally be wonderful, but you're squeezing me… on my…"
"OH!" she exclaimed, practically jumping off of him. "Oh, God. I'm so sorry. I completely forgot. Are you-"
"Sarah! Calm down. I'm fine. It was just this weird mixture of uncomfortable and very, very comfortable. Plus..., you need to go see Zondra. And this," he gestured between them and the bed, "isn't getting you down to the hospital wing any faster," he smirked. She gave him an exasperated sigh but chuckled at the situation.
"Alright, but to be continued once you're feeling better," she declared, pointing at him with a faux scowl.
"Count on it," he retorted, dancing his eyebrows at her. She rolled her eyes at him good naturedly, huffing in frustration.
"That eyebrow thing isn't helping," she grumbled. "Hey, why don't you come with me, and while you're down there, they can check you out?" She gave him a glare, indicating that this was not a request. Groaning in protest, he got off the bed and stood. Much like a petulant child, he huffed, pouting as he followed after her. Walking side by side down the hall, Chuck shoulder bumped her playfully. She did likewise in return, setting off an ever-escalating game of shove as they walked down the hall until Sarah shoved him into an open door and ran down the hall laughing over her shoulder at him.
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The door to Zondra's room was cracked open so Sarah tentatively knocked as she pushed it open slowly. Peeking her head in, she could see Carina sitting in the chair beside the bed, leaning forward talking to Zondra. The two turned to look at Sarah, Carina gesturing her over with her head.
"Hey Z. How you feelin'?" Sarah asked, walking toward the bed with her hands in her back pockets.
"Like I got shot," she deadpanned, though the corners of her mouth began to turn upward the longer she tried to hide it.
"Well, on the bright side, you look like hell. So, there's that," Sarah teased, sitting on the edge of the bed near Zondra's knee. All three women chuckled, which caused Zondra to wince in pain.
"Ow! Ow. No laughing. That hurts like a bitch," she chuckled lightly to herself, sobering slightly. "So… Chuckles tells me you two've been watching me sleep. That's kinda creepy." The smirk she gave was so … Zondra; masking emotions with humor and sarcasm.
"Don't flatter yourself," Carina retorted. "It's the only time we can stand to be around you." Zondra smacked Carina on the arm, the only part of her she could reach.
"Bitch. I'll remember that," she glared, trying to hide her amusement. "Seriously though, you guys are alright? There were so many coming in through the first floor entries … it was all I could do to get away from them and hide out in the basement. I should've run upstairs instead. I'm sorry-" Zondra turned to look away, biting her lip.
"Hey, that's bullshit," Sarah interjected. "You did what you had to do. You were alone and outnumbered, but still you managed to get yourself to safety. On top of that, you administered first aid to yourself, saving your own life. So, if anyone owes someone an apology, it's we that owe you one. The whole thing was a cluster fuck. Everyone was caught off guard. There were something like thirty men that stormed that property. All the extra patrols that were ordered around the house, they didn't stand a chance. If it weren't for Chuck and Casey, things could have turned out a lot different." Carina nodded in agreement, looking between Sarah and Zondra.
"That nerd of yours sure comes in handy. I wonder where I can get me one of those?" Carina asked, causing Zondra to chuckle while wincing, holding herself near her injury to minimize the shaking. "Sorry. No more jokes. So seriously," Carina continued, looking at Sarah with her brow furrowed, "would you rent him out? I'd wash him and bring him back with a full tank." Sarah huffed, punching Carina in the shoulder while Zondra howled in both laughter and pain.
"OW! OW! God damnit. Will you stop it. Jesus!" Zondra took rapid, shallow breaths, trying to minimize the pain and control her laughter. "So, do we know anything? Who they were? Who sent them? What they wanted?" Zondra asked, trying to focus her attention on something else.
"No. All we know is that they were specifically gunning for us, but we don't know who or why," Sarah began. "We suspect it was Larkin's doing, or at least he provided the location. Given the people we're tasked with taking down, I'm sure there're any number of people that would like to see this team dead and buried."
"Maybe Chuckles or Casey will have some luck. Don't those guys ever sleep?" Carina asked, sounding impressed. Zondra and Carina both turned to Sarah, giving her a wry smile.
"Why are you looking at - OK. Funny. I have no knowledge of his current sleeping habits," Sarah defended, looking a bit irritated until she slowly allowed a grin to form on her face. "But," she shrugged, looking a little mischievous, "from past experience, he did quite well on little to no sleep." All three women began to giggle, shoving Sarah playfully.
The friends sat and chatted for a while longer until Zondra grew tired. The nurse gave her some pain medication to help her sleep as Sarah and Carina left their friend to get some rest. When they stepped out of the room, they found Chuck sitting in a chair in the hallway. He jumped to his feet when he saw them.
"Hey. How is she?" he asked, putting his hands in his pockets.
"She's good. Her usual self, anyway. They gave her some pain meds and she's gonna sleep," Carina replied, running her fingers through her hair.
"You guys hungry? I'm guessing neither of you've eaten in a while. The charge nurse told me how to get to the cafeteria. My treat," he added with a goofy grin.
"It's free isn't it?" Sarah asked, giving him a flat look. His grin turned sheepish as he shrugged. Sarah couldn't help but chuckle at his antics. Stepping up to him, Sarah threaded her arm around his, holding tight. "Lead the way then. I'm starving."
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For the next few days, the team recuperated while they all did their part with chasing down leads. Many of the leads were a bust, but Sarah and Chuck had made some small headway. While they agreed that sleeping together in the facility would be a bad idea, working together had proved quite rewarding. Sarah had called the team into a conference room for a briefing, including Zondra In a wheelchair, despite her protests at having to use it.
"Alright. So, every lead, every tip we've followed, has led us nowhere. The phone they got off one of the mercs had one number in its history, which led to another burner number. The last GPS location of that phone was outside a smoke shop downtown. They found the phone in an alley nearby, snapped in half. An NSA forensics team is looking at it, but it seems like another dead end for now." Sarah blew out a breath in frustration. "But, we may have some good news. We've been pouring through tower dumps from the night at the consulate. Chuck had the brilliant idea to do a tower dump of all of the devices that were at the safe house the night before the consulate mission. I don't fully understand all the technology behind it, but it was a master stroke." Sarah gestured to Chuck for him to continue.
"I wouldn't go that far," Chuck protested sheepishly. "The problem with finding a burner phone in a haystack, as it were, is identifying which phone you're looking for. I knew that Bryce's phone would be with him, and there were few enough people in close proximity to the safehouse that night that it would be easy to rule out the devices we know, namely our phones. So, I did a tower dump and got the list of IMEIs and MAC addresses that were connected from vicinity of the safehouse. Sure enough, there was an unknown device that showed up for about four minutes and then disappeared. With that, I filtered out the tower information from the area of the consulate and found that same device. Triangulation isn't exact, but it corresponded closely enough with Bryce's location within the consulate. After that, the NSA had some nifty tools at their disposal that allowed us to find out the number that Bryce called." Chuck seemed pretty excited by fun toys he was getting to play with now that he was with the NSA.
"It was a burner phone too, not registered to anyone, of course," Sarah added, huffing with aggravation. "But, we were able to find where it was located. A hanger at Washington Executive Airpark. The hanger is leased by a Weyland Corporation. It says here that they're a small shipping company, but it's pretty ambiguous as to what they ship, exactly. If I had to guess, I'd say this is a shell company for something much bigger," Sarah concluded.
"Having a 'shipping company' in your stable can come in handy when you need to get things in an out of the country with fewer questions," Casey interjected, nodding his head in agreement with their assumptions.
"Drugs, guns… people," Carina chimed in, her jaw clenched. A silence fell over the room as everyone contemplated the ramifications. After a moment, the silence was interrupted by a soft knock at the door. Carina shared a look with the people around the table and, since she was closest to the door, she got up to answer it as there were no objections.
When she opened the door, one of the facilities assistants, a short, mousy woman named Jessica, was standing there. "Sorry to interrupt, but you have a visitor." With that, she stepped back, turning and walking away. A young man in a woodland green, marpat utility uniform stepped into the doorway. His sleeves were rolled up tight, his hat under his arm and a large green duffle bag slung over his left shoulder. He wasn't a large man, almost as tall as Carina, though his boots might have made up some of that, but he looked to be in good shape, if his exposed arms were any indication. He stared at Carina for a long moment before shaking himself and clearing his throat.
"Can I help you?" Carina asked, looking a little amused at the effect she seemed to have on him.
"Oh. Right... Um… Corporal Grimes, reporting for duty as requested," he replied, offering his hand hesitantly. Carina sized him up, allowing her eyes to scan him from head to toe and back again. His uniform clearly read "U.S. MARINES" on one pocket and "GRIMES" on the other. He didn't seem like much, but if Chuck and Casey believed in him, they had certainly earned her trust, so she'd give this Grimes the benefit of the doubt.
"Chuckles. Your play date's here," Carina called over her shoulder without taking her eyes off Morgan.
"Morgan!" Chuck exclaimed, rounding the table to greet him. Carina stepped aside, allowing the two to shake hands and pull each other into a one arm hug. "Good to see ya brother. Glad you could make it."
"Yeah, man. Sorry it took so long. When they got word to me, I packed my stuff and didn't even bother changing." Gesturing to his uniform, he gave a sheepish grin.
"I appreciate it. Let me introduce you to everyone. Carina Miller you've met," Chuck said, gesturing toward the tall, auburn-haired woman beside them.
"Enchante, madame," Morgan greeted with a surprisingly respectable French accent. He bowed and offered his hand again, despite being ignored at the first attempt. This time Carina took it, gently, caressing his hand as she pulled away. Chuck noticed the maneuver and recognized it for the flirty teasing that Carina was so famous for. Morgan was going to be in a world of trouble.
"Est-ce le seul français que vous connaissez?" Carina returned with a wry smile and a raised eyebrow. Chuck was sure that Morgan would fall flat on his face, having reached the extent of the French he knew from movies and TV. Much to his and Carina's surprise, Morgan continued.
"Il y a beaucoup de choses françaises que je connais. Peut-être une autre époque et un autre lieu?" Morgan showed an air of confidence that Chuck hadn't really seen in his old friend, except in the field. Carina seemed to be even more taken aback than Chuck, dare he say speechless. Chuck had no idea that Morgan spoke French, or if what he said was even really French or just sounded like it. Carina got a hold of herself and continued their little back and forth.
"Vous m'avez appelé Madame. Est-ce que je ressemble à une vieille femme mariée pour vous?" she questioned, giving him a look that dared him to answer. Undeterred, Morgan shrugged.
"Mademoiselle semble si ... immature. Vous êtes définitivement une femme." Whatever it was that Morgan said seemed to put Carina in her place, wiping the smirk off her face. Sarah snorted, chuckling under her breath at the exchange, shaking her head in amusement. Chuck had to admit, it was certainly a feat to make Carina Miller speechless. Nevertheless, he needed to get things back on track.
"Well. Alrighty then," Chuck interjected into the awkward silence. "Going around the table," Chuck began, gesturing to the person closest. "sporting the wheelchair is Zondra Rizzo." Zondra gave a short wave, her expression indecipherable. "And you remember Sarah, I assume."
"Hey, Sarah!" Morgan exclaimed, waving excitedly at her.
Sarah chuckled, waving in return, "Good to see you again, Morgan."
"And last, but not least, I'm sure you recall our illustrious leader," Chuck concluded, gesturing toward Casey. The older man gave a pained grunt, rolling his eyes in disdain.
"Major. I can't tell you what an honor it is to be working under you… err- for you… with you. It's just such an amazing opportunity, sir. Sorry. Casey! Sorry. Sorry about that." Morgan babbled, looking much more like the Morgan Chuck knew and loved.
"Against my better judgement, I let Bartowski bring you in. Don't make me regret it," Casey grumbled, glaring at both Morgan and Chuck.
"See, you say those things to hurt me, but you did let me in, so I'm going to ignore that and take the win," Morgan admitted, looking rather pleased. Chuck tried to hold back his chuckle but failed when he noticed Casey looking even more irritated than before, allowing a small smirk to emerge.
"Alright, sit down, moron. We're in the middle of a briefing." Turning his attention to Chuck, Casey gestured for him to get on with it.
"Right. Right. Where were we?" Chuck stammered out, heading back to his seat and his laptop. Carina closed the door and took her seat, still studying Morgan, who was sitting across the table from her.
"We were talking about the Weyland Corporation," Sarah answered, sounding amused. "Anyway, we don't know a lot about them, but apparently…" Sarah trailed off as she watched Morgan's hand go up hesitantly. "Yes, Morgan?" she asked, trying not to sound dismissive.
"I uh… I recognize that name," he confessed. Most of the people around the table seemed taken aback, but encouraged him to continue. "Yeah. Chuck, Casey? Don't you remember? We were at that makeshift air strip outside of Kohsān-" He abruptly stopped, wincing as he looked at Casey. The older man just groaned, shaking his head.
"Just get on with it. Everybody here is cleared for it," Casey declared with frustration.
"Right. Ok. Good. An-anyway… There was that Cessna Caravan unloading supplies and I commented about how I thought that the Weyland Corporation was just a tech company, not a shipping company. You know… Alien? Weyland Corp…?" Morgan looked around at all the blank stares he was getting and began to sink down in his seat until Chuck spoke up.
"Yeah! I do remember that, now that you mention it. There was a … a horse or something on the side," Chuck added as he typed on his laptop. Turning his attention to the TV that was mounted to the wall, an image of the company's logo appeared.
"Yeah! Yeah. That's it!" Morgan exclaimed, pointing at the TV.
"Good, Morgan. So, it seems they aren't a ghost company at least. Do you recall what they were unloading?" Sarah asked, as she focused on Morgan.
"No… No, I don't remember. We were a little… preoccupied..." he trailed off, glancing between Casey and Chuck. Both men nodded in agreement, their expressions somber.
"It's OK. Well, it's possible that they had a plane waiting at that hangar. Maybe Bryce was able to double-back and get a ride out of there. Let's see if by chance any flight plans were filed out of that airport around that time or shortly after. It's a long shot, but I doubt Bryce would want to stick around in one spot for too long, especially with the heat on." Sarah was straightening her folder of papers but everyone was watching Chuck as he typed furiously on the laptop keyboard. Morgan chuckled, nodding his head as he watched his friend with admiration.
"Dude! You still got it, man. The Piranha swims again," he proclaimed, grinning with pride at Chuck. Chuck stilled his hands, slowly turning to his friend, giving him a forced, tight-lipped smile, his eyes wide. Morgan's eyes took on the same shape as realization seemed to wash over him. Sarah wasn't sure what to make of it, but could tell that Morgan had let something slip. "Piranha" wasn't a nickname that she'd heard before. Maybe it was something from his geeky past that he would rather not share with everyone here for fear of embarrassment. She'd have to bring it up later in private maybe.
Chuck returned to typing and, after a couple more minutes, he projected his finding to the TV again. This time it was a list of sales, dating from the night of the fiasco. Chuck highlighted one of the line items and turned to address the room. "These are the transactions from Washington Executive Airpark; repairs, fuel, that sort of thing. A company card issued to Weyland Corporation purchased fuel not two hours before the events at the Bulgarian consulate. Now, since aircraft that fly below eighteen-thousand feet don't need to file a flight plan, there really aren't many plans filed out of that airport, except for charters that follow the spirit of the law. However," Chuck paused for dramatic effect, holding up a finger. "Big Brother is always watching; especially since it's the DC area." Chuck changed to a satellite image as he continued. "This is a satellite photo taken of the area between the time of the fuel purchase and the consulate event. If we zoom in…." Chuck trailed off, zooming in on the airport. The image was extremely high resolution, so there was no loss of quality as he zoomed in. Using his mouse cursor, he gestured at a hangar.
"According to what we found, this is the hangar that Weyland Corp. leased. And… that looks a lot like a helicopter to me." Chuck continued to zoom in and although it was starting to get a little grainy, they could still make out the tail number of the helicopter. "Ok, so, N20XN. Who are you registered to?" he asked rhetorically as he continued to type. After a few more seconds, Chuck sat back in his chair with an astonished look on his face.
"Oh, you have gotta be shitting me," he exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief. "That helicopter is registered to a Yutani Corporation," he stated flatly. Morgan belted out a laugh as everyone else just stared in confusion. Recognizing that nobody but Morgan would get the reference, he explained. "Weyland Corporation was a fictional company used in the Alien movie, as I mentioned before. Well, in the same movie franchise, Weyland merges with the Yutani Corporation, to form the Weyland-Yutani Corporation. So, either somebody had a sense of humor or it's impossibly coincidental. I'm voting for 'sense of humor' on this one. That aside, we have the FAA tracking of that craft, and sure enough, it took off not long after we reached that decoy taxi. Annnnd…" he trailed off as he displayed the Flightaware history of that helicopter. The image showed the entire trip, but the activity log detailed the actual location. "BWI. Baltimore/Washington International. Wonderful. Well, this is gonna take a lot more digging. That place is pretty big, so it would have been easy for him to slip through. I'll have to dig through camera data, departing flights-"
'We," Zondra interjected, causing Chuck to pause. "'We' will look through those things. We're capable of helping in this search too."
"Oh! Oh, I know. I… I didn't mean to imply… I know you're all extremely capable. I wasn't trying to insinuate-"
"Chuck!" Carina interrupted, seeing that he was spiraling. "We get it. You feel a sense of responsibility. We all do, but you're not alone in this. Alright? We're a team. Clearly, you can do a lot of things that we can't, especially with the typey-typey stuff. But we're spies, remember? Well, most of us," she corrected, shooting a teasing glance toward Sarah.
"Yeah, and I was an 'actual' investigator," Sarah retorted, giving Carina a wry smile. Morgan looked like he was watching Wimbledon, his head snapping from side to side following the exchange. He had a concerned look on his face, not having much background on this group. However, when the rest of the team, including the two women who were exchanging words, started snickering, he relaxed and chuckled along with them.
"Alright," Casey began, "Rizzo and I will start looking into Weyland and Yutani corporations to see what we can turn up. Walker. Bartowski. You two keep following Larkin. Miller, show your new team mate to his bunk. And by 'show him' I don't mean for you to give him a three hour tour of it," he grunted, seemingly amused with himself. "Once you've shown him around, gotten him up to speed, you can meet back up with Walker and Bartowski to lend them a hand. Dismissed," he declared, pushing away from the table to stand. Zondra attempted to stand too, hoping to leave her wheelchair behind, but Casey pushed her back down and pushed the chair, with her in it, out of the room himself.
"Alright my bite-sized Marine, let's get you to your room. Then you can show me all your tattoos and I can show you mine." She bounced her eyebrows, giving him her signature, sultry stare. Those in the room could hear Morgan swallow, the distinctive gulping sound practically echoed it was so loud. Morgan snapped his head to look at Chuck, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head. Chuck just rolled his eyes, shaking his head in exasperation.
"Ramirez," Chuck whispered and then spared a glance at Carina. Morgan took in a breath, realization replacing his panic.
Morgan pursed his lips, nodding his understanding. "Gotcha," he said before turning to face Carina. "Miss Miller, lead the way," he stated respectfully, gesturing toward the door. Carina almost looked disappointed that he wasn't playing along, but shrugged and started toward the door. "I prefer the view from back here," Morgan added, surprising Carina. She turned to face him, seeing the rather cocky shrug he gave her.
Carina's grin returned, as she nodded her head. "I think we'll get along just fine, Martin." With that she turned and headed into the hallway.
Morgan followed after, holding up a hand, "That's Morgan," he corrected, slinging his duffle bag over his shoulder.
"Whatever," Carina retorted, sounding indifferent, her hips swaying even more than usual.
Sarah and Chuck shared a look, trying to gauge the other's impression. Finally, Sarah snorted, before breaking into a chuckle. "Poor Morgan. She's gonna eat him alive."
"Oh, I dunno. He may be OK. See, we had a guy on our team, Jesus Ramirez. He reminded me a lot of Carina. When it came down to business, he was a damn good operator. But outside of that, he was cocky and overconfident; an insatiable flirt."
"Just like Carina," Sarah chimed in.
"Right. Very similar at least. That persona of his was a… coping mechanism. He could hide his fears and insecurities, never letting people see what he thought of as a weakness. I suspect that Carina is much the same way. She puts on a good show, but she's a kind, caring person under it all. She may never admit it, but I've seen it firsthand." Chuck smiled, remembering his heart-to-hearts with Carina. "At any rate, I gave Morgan that little tip. He's used to Ramirez, so I think he'll be able to adapt to Carina. Otherwise, yeah. She'll devour him." Both of them laughed at that as they collected their things.
"So, your room or mine?" Sarah asked, looking back over her shoulder as they stepped out of the room.
"We can do my room. But, we gotta keep the door open. I'm not allowed to have girls in my room with the door closed," he whispered loudly as they walked down the hall.
"Well, then, I think we should go to my room. My parents aren't home, so I can do whatever I want," she teased, shoulder bumping him.
"Oooo. Sarah Walker. You are a baaaad girl" Chuck exclaimed with a faux shocked expression.
"Wouldn't you like to know," she retorted, sticking her tongue between her teeth.
"You have no idea," he choked out, looking forlorn. Sarah bounced her eyebrows at him then picked up the pace. As she pulled away from him, it quickly dawned on him and he broke into a run to catch up.
A/N2: OK. Not as adventurous as some of the previous chapters. The team is licking their wounds and digging up leads. Hopefully soon Zondra will be well enough to leave the facility and they can continue their pursuit of Bryce and whatever other leads they come up with.
I'm sure there are some inaccuracies and over generalizations in this chapter/story. That's the great thing about fiction. "It's all made up and the points don't matter." I do a fair amount of research for my stories, hoping that those little details will add flavor and authenticity. But at the end of the day, most of it is just a mechanism to push the story along, so I'm not going to invest hours/days of tireless research. My writing time is at a premium as it is, I'd rather not waste it. So, feel free to critique away. You won't hurt my feelings, just know that I don't really care about FAA regulations on flight plans for small craft, physics behind cellular telephony or the airspeed velocity of unladen African swallows. Employ that willing suspension of disbelief and just have fun.
Also, the French used is thanks to Google translate, so you can complain to them for an inaccuracies. Why does Morgan know French? Good question. I guess you'll have to check back for the next update to find out.
I really appreciate hearing from you all, so feel free to leave a review or a PM (even if it's about technical inaccuracies :) )
Until next time.
Joe