"Let's go, Bartowski, this is the final call!" Casey yelled impatiently from the portal of Gate 7 at LAX.
"Coming, Casey, coming!" Chuck rushed up the escalator to the concourse. "You got it?" Morgan asked him softly, moving alongside him.
"I did, Morgan; it looked perfect," Chuck drew a case from his pocket to reveal a stunning diamond ring, "Now I just need the perfect time and place to give it to Sarah."
"Oh yeah, now that's an engagement ring," Morgan beamed, "No way she can't love this..."
"We're leaving, morons!" Casey thundered at them again. Chuck quickly shoved the case into his pocket. "Well, Washington, here we come," he told Morgan. The two of them raced for the gate-thus, neither of them noticing the TV set on the nearest wall, on which the news anchor was declaring, "...breaking news bulletin, the FBI has issued an all points bulletin for former spy Daniel Shaw, who escaped custody this morning while being transferred to a newly constructed maximum security prison. Shaw, who was convicted of treason, murder, attempted murder, and other crimes in an attempt to overthrow the CIA and NSA, reportedly killed four law enforcement officials in the escape attempt. He may be headed to California, where the majority of his crimes were committed. Shaw is to be considered armed and dangerous. Anyone with information on his whereabouts is asked to contact their nearest local, state, or federal law enforcement officials immediately..."
"Wow, that's a great ring," Bert echoed Morgan several hours later, holding Chuck's chosen engagement ring in his palm, as Chuck had decided to let him take a look now that Sarah was in the bathroom.
"It had to be perfect, and this one is," Chuck agreed, pocketing it again. "I hope we get enough down time on this mission so I can do it. So, anyway, you were saying about your first mission in Bolivia?"
"The drug runners were running an illegal diamond mine to fund their operation in the mountains north of La Paz," Bert related, "It was pretty deep in the mountains, but there was, if you will, a Death Star exhaust port we could use..."
"Great analogy," Chuck pointed a finger at him.
"I grew up on the films too. Anyway, there was an air shaft leading right down to the mining level. Richard, my partner, and I tranquilized the guards during the nightshift, hooked up, and rappelled straight down five hundred feet into the mine. The leading drug syndicate members were having a conference down there, thinking they'd be safe deep underground. We caught them completely by surprise; we captured them all, and freed a couple dozen local children they'd been using as slave laborers. When I got back, Bryce gave me a special commendation for it, and when I stopped by the lab at the substation to visit Gretchen, she was really impressed. I think it was then that I got the feeling she liked me." He exhaled in delight. "Just for that once, everything was perfect in the spy world for me. How about your first mission, Chuck?"
"In my case, defusing a bomb in a hotel meant to kill a top general and other high ranking military personnel," Chuck told him, "Bryce had sent me the Intersect a few days before, and I was still getting used to life with it. Sarah had taken me out on a date, then Casey showed up wanting to take me into custody. After a pretty tense standoff, we agreed we needed to work together, especially once we realized what the specific threat was, and interestingly enough, I ended up using a pornography site to disarm the bomb. I could tell Sarah was impressed too. And that started our ride together, one that hopefully will end with an I do," he tapped his pocket.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. At this point, we'd like to advise you to fasten your seatbelts and make sure your tray tables are in their upright and locked positions while we begin our descent to Ronald Reagan International Airport in Arlington, Virginia," the pilot declared over the intercom. Chuck quickly obliged with the instructions. "So, it's your partner Richard we're meeting up with here, in fact?" he asked Bert.
"Yeah; he's currently assigned to keep track of all the flights and Reagan and watch for suspicious air traffic and passengers," Bert told him, "I know we can definitely trust him."
"I'm back," Sarah announced, running up the aisle from the bathroom. She quickly buckled herself in and stared out the window at the bright fall foliage dotting the landscape of northern Virginia. "It's lovely like this during the peak of the colors, isn't it?" Chuck asked her, leaning out the window to look himself.
"It sure is," she smiled, "I've flown a lot of times on missions, but I've never really noticed the landscapes until now. Never really noticed how lovely the world is."
"Do you suppose I had something to do with that?"
"I guess you could say so," she gave him a kiss. The plane descended quickly and soon had pulled up to the terminal at Reagan International. "Have a good flight, Casey?" Sarah turned back to face him in the aisle behind Chuck and herself. A scowling Casey, with a sound asleep and snoring Morgan leaning against his right shoulder and a screaming baby kicking his left shoulder, growled furiously, hinting he had not had a happy flight. "Wake up, moron!" he elbowed Morgan hard in the ribs. Morgan woke with a start. "So, how much longer till we reach Washington?" he asked innocently, making Casey growl again.
"Follow me; we're stopping at the Landmark Tours desk," Bert instructed them all. He led them into the terminal and down the escalator to the lower level. He approached the wiry brown-haired man behind the Landmark Tours desk. "I'd like five tickets for the Blue bus to the White House," he announced.
"Understood," the man behind the counter said with a knowing wink, "Right this way then."
He reached under the counter. Chuck heard a buzzing sound and saw the lock on the door behind the counter click to the unlocked position. He then followed the others behind the counter, through the door, and down a set of stairs. "Glad to see you're all right, Bert," the other man shook his hand, looking relieved, "Tom had told me how badly you'd taken it when he'd seen Gretchen with the other man, and when I'd heard you'd been shot, I feared the worst..."
"I thought I was dead for a while too, Richard, but thankfully I got to help just in time. Richard Drew, may I introduce Chuck Bartowski, Sarah Walker, John Casey, and Morgan Grimes; Team Bartowski, I guess you can call them," Bert introduced Chuck and his team to his old partner.
"Team Bartowski, I kind of like that," Chuck mused, "So, Richard, you and Bert worked together a few missions?"
"Our first three missions. I could tell Bert had the makings of a good spy...but also that he had some doubts about the business, which I can only guess are now a bit stronger," Richard glanced at his partner, who nodded solemnly.
"We'd like any information you give us to be strictly off the record for now; we don't officially have full authorization to be here at the moment," Sarah pointed out to Richard.
"I understand, Mrs. Walker. Which brings me to an important point: when Bert called and mentioned you'd been given a shelter in place order by General Beckman after she'd apparently been told to stand down by the Department of Defense on national security grounds, I called a superior who has a direct contact to the deputy Secretary of Defense," Richard came to a stop with a grave expression, "He says that neither the Secretary nor any of his top assistants had any conversations with General Beckman on anything in the last three days."
"Huh?" Morgan's face grew worried, "So, the general outright lied to us? What's going on here, then? What's she covering up?"
"I don't know, Morgan, but I do remember she seemed to get worried for a moment when I first mentioned Lieberstan after we crossed paths with Bert," Sarah remembered with a frown, "So, what do you think?" she asked the rest of the team grimly, "Do you think it's even remotely possible that she might have sold out...?"
"Diane Beckman would never sell out America, Walker," Casey shook his head, "Not for anyone or anything. It's got to be something else. But this now makes it more imperative she not catch us here until we do figure out what's going on."
"Speaking of Lieberstan, my contact also gave some vital information on your transfer out of the country," Richard told Bert, "He did some digging and said the order had come from CIA director Zachary. I called him directly, though, to confirm, and he said he had no record of authorizing anyone being transferred out of Lieberstan in the last six months. He noticed the military buildup too, and wanted more eyes on the ground in there. So I'm wondering if someone forged an order for you to get you out before you saw something incriminating."
"I'm starting to wonder myself, Richard," Bert shuddered. The group now entered a central control room, with numerous screens showing various views around the airport, as well as planes ascending and descending. "I keep track of everything that comes in and out of the airport during my shift," Richard explained, plopping down behind a console, "Now I'm guessing you want to see if any plane brought Gretchen and the other scientists in overnight?"
"Absolutely," Bert nodded firmly.
"Let's see what we've got here, then," Richard typed in some information, "I only got in at eight this morning, so let's see what the night watch found..."
Various footage of the airport from the previous day rewound on the screen, the sun setting and night falling as the hours advanced. When the feed had reached three in the morning, Richard hit pause. "Right here," he pointed at a dark blot on the screen that appeared to be landing in the far back of the airport, "According to the given records," he dug out a clipboard, "that was a cargo plane carrying rice, but it never pulled up to the freight unloading terminal as far as I can tell."
"I guess there might be a way to get out of the airport without being noticed that far away from the terminals?" Sarah asked, leaning close to the screen.
"The rear gate's not far from there, and it empties out onto a back road flanked by fields. If I wanted to smuggle people out, that would be the place to do it here," Richard told her, nodding.
"Do you have camera angles from there?" Casey pressed him.
"They'd be infrared, but I might," Richard typed in more information. "Bingo," he declared triumphantly a minute or so later, as the image on the screen now showed numerous warm bodies disembarking the plane and moving quickly towards a truck parked nearby, "I think we know where Gretchen and those other scientists came after they left L.A."
"The question is, where are they now?" Chuck asked, squinting at the image on the screen, but not flashing, "Do you know of any of Hubert Sedgefield's black sites in the D.C. area from either during or after his time as CIA director?"
"Can't help you there," Richard shook his head, "I was out in the field most of the time before I was assigned here by Langston Graham; I don't know anything about black sites-and believe me, I'm glad I don't."
"Can't blame you for..." Chuck's gaze fell on another screen monitoring the terminal outside the control room-and flashed on two figures collectively carrying a briefcase. "I've got two members of Shadow Squad disembarking the escalators, maybe carrying something important!" he pointed at the screen.
"Those guys?" Sarah leaned towards him and pointed at them.
"Yep, them. They must have been sitting in a different section of the plane, and that's why I didn't..." Chuck trailed off as a second flash triggered when two additional men entered the frame and started quietly conversing with the Shadow Squad agents. "And there's two Lierberstani intelligence officials too!" he pointed at them.
"Wait, I know them," Bert pointed at the Lieberstanis as well, "They're aides to Lieberstan's U.S. ambassador Igor Drenkov; I've seen them with Drenkov in person."
"Except Drenkov and his staff have been under no-fly orders since we cut off diplomatic relations with Lieberstan after it became clear Mountanski was supporting terrorists," Casey pointed out with a scowl, "So how the hell did they get in this country!?"
"No idea there, but I guess you didn't hear since you were busy yesterday: Drenkov crashed the president's press conference at the Jefferson Memorial yesterday," Richard told them, "Barged right up to him, yelled at him that he was destroying Lieberstan with the sanctions we'd put on the country, which he claimed were illegal, and that the U.S. would pay for it. Got into shoving matches with several presidential aides as well before the Secret Service dragged him off."
"We were kind of predisposed with everything going on at our end to hear of it, but this can't be good either way," Sarah frowned worriedly at the two groups of men now walking towards the front door together, "If these men are here, Drenkov's almost certainly not far behind, and he's probably getting his orders directly from General Mountanski. If that is the new Intersect, we'd better follow them, quickly."
"There's a fleet of cars in the parking garage for intelligence officials that come through here," Richard opened a drawer on the desk and tossed a set of keys at her, "Level 3 in the rear. I'll try and radio around to the other spies around the airport to keep them from leaving until I can visually confirm from here that you're on their tail."
"Thanks, Richard, you've been a big help," Bert shook his old partner's hand, "We'll keep you informed how the rest of the mission goes." He rushed after Chuck's team back up the stairs to the terminal. "And hopefully they'll lead us to Gretchen and the scientists too," he said hopefully out loud.
"Let's certainly hope so," Chuck agreed as they burst through the door and leaped over the Landmark Tours desk's counter, "And that we don't run into any really unsavory people along the way." He and his team raced for the door after the agents...
...not seeing the head of one person taking the escalator up to the departure level snap suddenly around. A very dark smile crossed Daniel Shaw's lips, taking in Chuck and his team heading for the terminal's front door. He stepped off the top and glanced around, his eyes fixating on an apparently homeless man slumped on a bench in the corner. "Pardon me, sir," he approached the man, "Do you have anywhere you need to be right now?"
"Uh, no, why?" the man asked.
"How would you like to go see California? I was going to apply for a job out there, but I just got word my sister's pregnant, and I want to be here for the birth, so I'd like to give you my tickets so they won't get wasted," Shaw handed the man his tickets, "Round trip; return flight's in a week."
"Well, OK then, thanks," the man beamed.
"Plane departs at Gate 6 in half an hour," Shaw told the man, who nodded and bustled off towards the gate. "And so, I don't have to waste travel money on you after all, Chuck Bartowski," Shaw grinned darkly, striding over to the descending escalator, "You came straight to me in the end. And rest assured this is going to be the last trip you ever take..."