A/N: So, I looked under the couch cushions for ownership of Chuck and it wasn't there. We'll see, I guess.
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The Elephant and Castle Pub was located on Tinworth Street, just a few blocks from River House. It was a favorite spot for the men and women on the Secret Intelligence Service to gather for a drink or two after work. Dark wood with old pictures of colonial India on the wall. Sturdy wooden tables and chairs. A couple of ruddy faced men pulling pints behind a long old fashioned bar. It seemed to be a quintessential English pub.
It was just after the dinner rush, but still crowded enough. Mostly men and women in business dress, with the occasional casually dressed patron.
Cole Barker and Sydney Reilly were sitting at a table when Chuck and Casey arrived. Cole waved and caught their attention with a grin, happy to see his friends. The two Americans joined them at the table.
Looking around at the establishment, Chuck said, "This place is right out of Diagon Alley."
Seeing Chuck's happy smile, Cole chuckled, but said, with a shrug of incomprehension, "Sorry, Mate. No idea."
Reilly started to laugh, "'Arry Potter. Come on, Cole. Don't be such a philistine."
Laughing, Chuck and Reilly gave each other high fives.
Barker said, "What's the story with Larkin?"
Chuck's face fell as he remembered his friend's condition. He replied, "He's in surgery to take care of the damage they did. The docs were optimistic, but we'll see, I guess. He'll need extensive dental surgery to repair his teeth, but that won't happen immediately. He'll probably get that taken care of in the States. They say he'll be sedated until the morning. I'll go back to see him then, when he ought to be waking up."
Cole said, "I'm sure he'll be ok, Chuck. We got to him pretty quickly, all things considered. The doctors can take care of a lot of damage nowadays."
"Yeah. I hope so."
"Where are Sarah and Amy?" asked Reilly, eager to change the subject.
Chuck laughed softly for a few moments. "They decided to have a girl's night out. Sarah has a friend...well, I guess we all have a friend..." Casey grunted. "...in Paris. DGSE. She's hopped on the bullet train and is coming through the Chunnel for drinks and dancing tonight with Sarah and Amy. Sarah is going to ask her to be a bridesmaid. We can meet them at the hotel later."
The waitress, a pretty Russian émigré, came and took orders. Cole and Syd had waited to eat dinner until their friends had arrived. Ale. Guiness. Irish whiskey. Scotch. Bangers and mash. Toad in a hole. Scotch eggs and chips. Fish and chips. More ale.
As they were eating, Cole was telling Syd, "So there I was, hanging from my wrists with this Fulcrum lady giving me these great bloody wallops with a strap and I'm doing my best not to laugh out loud. Can you believe it? Chuck has got her and her team spinning in circles. Totally plausible story he's got going. And hilarious. He asks her if the classes she took in torture had papers to write or were they lab courses. I swear, he's got them looking up comic book characters and checking E-bay. And he's making it all up on the spot. You can't believe it. Most impressive performance I've ever seen. Seriously." Cole lifted his pint glass in salute. Chuck, a little embarrassed, raised his to clink with Cole.
Reilly was laughing hard at the story. Casey said, "I'd have rather taken the beating than have to listen to him all night." His eyes were sparkling with his own humor as he said it.
A couple of men approached the table with drinks in their hands. "Evening, Cole, Syd. This the Carmichael team everyone's been talking about?"
"Ah, bugger off, Joe. Let my lads eat in peace will you? Act your age. Don't go all Posh Spice on them for God's sake," said Cole.
The men retreated, unoffended and laughing.
Cole said, "They'll be asking for autographs soon enough." Both Casey and Chuck looked a little embarrassed at the possibility. "What can I tell you? You are developing a rep in the community," said Cole.
"Jeez. Where's the 'secret' part of secret agent?" asked Chuck.
"It's a myth, Chuck. Spies gossip like old women," said Reilly. "I can tell you all about the love life of most of the blokes standing at the bar."
Dinner over, Casey got up to head to the mens' room and return the ale he'd been drinking.
Thoughtfully, Cole watched Casey's back retreating and said, "You know Chuck, when I first met you, in the hotel in LA, I thought you were the junior kid on the team. You know, the one carrying the bags and whatnot. But I was wrong. Dead wrong. You're the leader of the team. No question about it. When you call a shot everyone obeys instantly, no questions."
"Ah, Cole, that's not right. Thanks, but we don't really have a leader. We make all our decisions together. That's just not the way it works with us."
"Chuck, I was in the SAS. I know the difference between leadership and command. Don't confuse the two. Command is imposed from the outside. Leadership is granted from within the team. If a team is lucky, the man in command is the leader, if not, not. But there is always a leader. A man, or woman, that the rest of the team always looks to. I know you aren't in command, but you are the leader. Hell, man, just think of today. The rest of us almost didn't say a word, content to let you handle the conversation with the Demetrios woman. Get us all out of there with our skin."
"Well, yeah, I know, but think about it, buddy. Before I told her that Larkin was our inside man, I checked with Sarah and Casey..."
"Yes, you did. I saw that. But they immediately approved the decision you had already made. Chuck, I can see it. Seriously. You're too humble to get a big head over it, but you should be pretty chuffed, I'd say."
Casey was coming back to the table. Chuck said, "Thanks, Cole." He looked truly touched, if a little embarrassed by the idea.
As Casey sat, he said, "What'd I miss?"
Reilly said, "Just talking about you, Major."
"Boring shit, Reilly," replied Casey.
"Well, Case. There's a question I wanted to ask Cole and I waited for you to get back." Chuck turned to Cole and said, "Cole, you know Sarah and I are getting married in December."
"Sure. Congratulations again," he said.
"Will you be one of my groomsmen?"
Cole caught his breath with surprise. He was incredibly moved. Cole Barker had a great deal of self-confidence, it was almost impossible to do his job without it, but he also considered himself self-aware enough to recognize a better man. Chuck was just such a man; one who achieved it without even trying. For all the skills Cole possessed, he didn't consider himself Chuck's equal. He'd thought about it a great deal since he'd met Team B in Los Angeles a few weeks ago and concluded to himself that he was a little bit in awe of Chuck. And he'd seen the same thing there in Los Angeles, with the others who were to be Chuck's groomsmen. Chuck engendered respect and devotion in other men without any conscious effort whatsoever. Cole flashed back to the memory of the big redhead starting to cry when asked to be one of the groomsmen and found that, at that moment, he wholly empathized with the man.
"Yes, Chuck. I will. And you should know that I'm honored by the request. Deeply honored, Matey."
The two men shook hands with happy grins.
Some time, and more pints, later, Cole was in the middle of a story involving his SAS team in Afghanistan, a Taliban insurgent, night vision goggles, an airstrike, and a goat.
"So, what'd you do?" asked Casey.
"Blimey, I waited for him to finish, of course. It just seemed to be the polite thing to do," said Cole innocently. "I know if it were me, I'd appreciate the same courtesy."
"Well," said Reilly, "guess that makes the chap someone who can come and go at the same time."
They all started to laugh. Chuck said, "Is it wrong that I feel sorry for the goat?" They laughed harder.
Cole looked up at the door to the pub. He stared and his eyes opened wide in surprise. "C," he said.
"See what?" asked Chuck.
"No, C," said Cole.
Chuck and Casey twisted to look around. A tall, slender man in his early fifties with gray temples on his swept back wavy hair had come into the pub. He wore a long raincoat open around him, billowing with his movement like a cape. Two large men accompanied him. There was a noticeable stir among the men and women at the bar.
Chuck turned back and said, "I still don't get what you want me to see."
The new entry was standing at their table a moment later. With surprised, but serious faces, Reilly and Cole began to stand up, so Chuck and Casey followed them. The man said, "Evening Barker, Reilly. Mind if I join you?"
"Not at all, Sir. May I introduce, Mr. Chuck Bartowski and Major John Casey. Lads, this is Sir Trevor Broadchurch, our boss."
Chuck shook his hand and said, "Pleased to meet you, Sir Trevor."
"And you're also Carmichael?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Brilliant. Hallo, Major," he said, shaking hands with Casey.
"Sir," said Casey.
Sir Trevor shrugged off his raincoat, which one of the large men took silently. He sat down at their table and the four spies resumed their seats as well. Sir Trevor was obviously relaxed and at ease, leaning back with his leg crossed ankle to knee and his finger tapping idly on the edge of one well-shined shoe.
The waitress came over with two glasses for Sir Trevor. "Here you go, Sir. The usual. An ale and a Macallan." She smiled at him, giving him the full wattage.
Sir Trevor responded in a few words of Russian that had the waitress laughing and blushing. She responded in the same language as she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. He responded again, with a grin. He was an exceptionally handsome man and was deploying his charm to its fullest. The girl laughed once more and slapped him lightly on the arm as she left the table, but she looked back at him over her shoulder with a smile while she was heading to the bar, maybe swaying her tush a bit more than necessary. He had been watching her leave, seemingly waiting for her to look back. When she did, he grinned at her with a twinkle in his eye.
He turned back to the table. "Well, that's a happy report to Moscow tonight. She's making progress." Cole and Reilly laughed, but Chuck and Casey just looked a little confused. Sir Trevor said, "She's an FSB plant. We all know it and feed her nonsense just for fun. I let her think she's seducing me. It makes her bosses happy and is a bit of harmless enjoyment."
"Why take the risk?" asked Chuck.
He looked at Chuck with sharp intelligence in his eyes. "If they know we tumbled to her, they might replace her with someone we don't know about. This way, we have control over the situation. So," continued C, "only half your team tonight."
"Yes, Sir," said Chuck. "The other two are elsewhere. We didn't know this would become a business..."
"Ah, no, lad. This isn't business. I'm just here to meet and greet. Not that I don't trust Barker and Reilly in that department, I'm just extending hospitality. And, to be honest, a little curious myself. You and your team have been developing quite the reputation and I'm as intrigued as anyone. I just got off with Diane and Langston and they are certainly proud of the work you've all been doing. Thought I'd pop down and say hello in person."
"How'd you know where to find us?" asked Chuck. Sir Trevor gave him a look which made Chuck laugh. "Ah, right. Spy."
"Not me, lad. I run a lot of spies, but not me. I'm not like your bosses, who came to their jobs the honest way. Real spies, both of them. Me? I'm a political appointee. Owe my job to the PM. Never spied a day in my life."
Cole spoke up, "But he's a pretty decent boss anyway. Knows when he doesn't know. That's an uncommon trait, and appreciated."
Sir Trevor took a large sip of his scotch and gave Cole a small grin, "You're already a favorite, Barker. No need to suck up. Leave it to Reilly next time."
"Yes, Sir," said Reilly, not totally sure that was a joke, although he hoped it was a joke.
Sir Trevor turned back to Casey and Chuck and said, "Speaking of Diane and Langston, as I said, I was just on the phone with them. They send their regards."
"Thank you, Sir," said Chuck. "If I may ask, did today's events come up in the conversation?"
"That was the topic. And I know what your next question is. Did we send in the hard boys to rescue your man Delgado? The answer is no. We have decided to permit the Demetrios family to continue their vendetta for the time being. They haven't caused any trouble so far. Not for anyone not Fulcrum, anyway. Haven't hurt any civilians and seem to be pretty precisely targeted. No intervention for now. No Interpol notices. No calls to the Greeks. None of it. They go on their way unmolested by us."
"But, Sir. What they are doing..." began Chuck.
"Yes. Brutal. Well, just glad we aren't doing it ourselves, I suppose. Although, maybe we are, eh?" he said with a quirk of his eyebrow. "Enough of that. I didn't stop by to talk business. Tell me what you both think of London and I'll tell you what I think of Los Angeles."
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Several nights later, Erdliget, Hungary (a suburb of Budapest)
[The conversation in this scene is presented in English, but the original occurs in Hungarian.]
Jozsef Fodor kissed his sister on the cheek, accepted the glass of wine she offered and made his way to the backyard of her home. It was a nice home, with a spacious backyard, in a nice middle-class neighborhood. He spoke with several family members and their spouses, biding his time. A few of his sister's friends and neighbors struck up conversations and he held up his end of the process without letting them see his boredom or disdain.
His glass of wine had been refilled four times before she arrived. He had to laugh at himself, however. As he could drink four glasses of wine in less than a minute (without any noticeable effect), that was no reasonable measure of the passage of time.
His niece, Anna. He waited until she had finished talking to one of her cousins before approaching her.
"Hello, little one. What a delight to see you here. I didn't know you'd be coming," he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek and a one-armed hug.
"Hi, Uncle Jozsef. Of course, I was coming. Can you imagine what Mom would do to me if I missed it?"
"Right you are. Still, good to see you. I was getting bored talking to these people," he said, with a glance at some of the men and women in the backyard.
"Not as interesting as your secret agent friends?" she asked him in a deliberately hushed voice.
He looked around the backyard with a caricature of secrecy and said, "It's a big secret, so you can't tell any of your friends, but the Információs Hivatal is filled with the most boring people on the planet. You don't think we are all James Bond and CIA agents do you?"
Anna giggled at the thought of her uncle as a dashing secret agent. He seemed like such a gentle teddy bear.
"So, tell me what's up at your work? Still happy there?" he asked.
"Oh, yes. Thank you so much for pointing me to that job. I feel terrible about the girl who had it before me, but I'm certainly glad the job opened up."
"I'm just happy we were able to salvage some good after that tragedy," he said. "But enough of being maudlin, what's the news? Anything interesting at the office? What's going on the Kossuth Industries matters? What can you tell me that the newspapers don't know? I love gossip."
"Well, Uncle, you know I'm not supposed to talk about it...and I don't know what the newspapers say, but they are still looking for little Bora...I guess you know that though. If anyone found the baby, it would make headlines. We only get a call once in a while, though. And no one yet who knows about the birthmark, so no excitement. I was so excited the first time, but Mr. Farkas calmed me down. Without knowledge of the birthmark, the calls are just nonsense he says."
"But you'll remember to let me know if you get a promising call, right, little one?"
"Of course, Uncle. I still have the special phone you gave me. Don't worry," she said, patting his arm.
He was reassured by that. With the people he already had in the various government agencies, he could expect to know of any promising leads right away. "So, what else is going on?" he asked.
"Mr. Farkas seems very happy with the man he has running the companies. It's a huge job, of course. He needed someone with experience. He hired a senior man who used to work for one of the American consulting companies. Goldberg Sachs, I think."
"Goldman Sachs," he said.
"Yes, that's it. Anyway, he seems to be pleased. They talk all the time and Mr. Farkas is always in a good mood afterwards."
"Well, that's good to know," he said. "Those businesses mean a great deal to the Hungarian economy. I'd hate to see them mismanaged."
"But, there are still people angry, Uncle. People who want to invalidate the will...the Kossuth's will."
"I didn't hear the latest. What happened now?" he asked.
"Kapp, the German, is threatening to go to court to break the will. He had his lawyers send Mr. Farkas a nasty letter the other day. They threatened that they were going to take him to court somehow."
"What did Mr. Farkas say?" he asked.
"He called the man an arrogant fool. I asked him why the lawyers would go along with it. Why would they take the case if it was foolish, you know what he told me? He said a lawyer's best client is an angry billionaire." She started to giggle at the thought.
"Mr. Farkas is a smart man. He's right. I'm glad it worked out that you are working for him, little one."
He was glad. It was a shame that he had had to murder the young woman who had that job before Anna, but life was like that sometimes.
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A/N2: I took the name of the London pub from a storied pub in downtown Manhattan, but it otherwise has no relation to that establishment.
A/N3: Last week I mentioned that I might be traveling this weekend, but as it turns out I will be traveling next weekend. So, the warning that I gave last week, about what may be spotty or non-existent internet now holds true for next week's chapter instead. If I'm not on time, please forgive me.
A/N4: Bit of a talky chapter without too much action. Got to meet C though. I kind of like the guy. A nice mix of charm and ruthlessness and intelligence. Fodor, on the other hand, just seems bad. Let me know what you think, please.