Voodoo curses
Bible tongues
Voices comin'
From the mangled lungs
Radio's cold
Soul is infected
"Cellphone's Dead"
Beck
July 8, 2012
Oak Park, Illinois
Sarah could hear the excited squeals of Ellie's two-year-old daughter as she made her way down the hall toward the living room. She felt herself almost beaming when she heard Chuck, laughing loudly himself as he played with her. She felt Ellie come up beside her.
"God, I can't tell you how good it feels to hear him laughing. I was afraid I was never going to hear that ever again," she said quietly to Sarah.
"Ellie," Sarah said, suddenly serious, turning to her sister-in-law. "Please know, I never meant to cause trouble between you and your brother. I felt terrible, coming between you two. You were always so close, from everything that I can remember."
"You didn't, Sarah," she said, gently brushing Sarah's hair back over her shoulder. "It was my fault, the choices I made. We're past it, I hope. I missed you too, Sarah."
The two women hugged. Sarah said softly, "I know I was never really close to anyone, not really having any friends, at least not the way Chuck did. But you and I were friends before. I know I missed that, too."
"You're family, Sarah. Always. That's why I made those choices." Sarah squeezed her tighter, then let go.
She emerged into the living room, seeing Chuck lying on his back, holding Clara by the waist, lifting her up and down, as she reached her tiny hands to his cheeks, giggling and shrieking. Sarah smiled, hearing Ellie say softly behind her, "He's going to be a great dad."
She touched her body, feeling their son stirring slightly inside, knowing without doubt how right Ellie was, and how truly blessed she was in this moment, no matter the hardships they had endured to reach this point. It was one more pearl on the string of miracles Chuck Bartowski had gently looped around her.
XXX
July 8, 2012
Chicago, Illinois
Ellie's office at the hospital was not distinct in any way from the others in the research suite at the hospital. Adjacent to her actual office was a conference room, and further down the hall a state of the art research laboratory. It was after they had passed through the usual badge-access only security checkpoint that Chuck had started to note the differences. They passed through a set of heavy steel doors, something that Chuck couldn't remember ever having seen in the hospital before. Ellie had to press her thumb to a fingerprint scanner to gain them entry.
Once they passed through those doors, the air seemed to change around him. Soundproof, he thought. Nothing echoed, even in the vaguest of sensation of their footfalls on the floor. "The NCS paid for this security upgrade once the grant went through. They also donated," Ellie made air quotes in the air as she spoke, "a few million dollars to the new burn unit at the same time."
It was the eeriest feeling, almost like he was back in Castle, as he continued through the bowels of this hidden section of what was a regular hospital. Ellie scanned her thumb again, and opened a door to another conference room. She gestured for them to enter. The room was empty, with the exception of one person, seated at the table.
"Mom!" Chuck exclaimed, surprised, but then reminding himself that surprise and uncertainty was something that was normal when it came to his mother. She stood, rushing to him and hugging him tightly. He returned the hug.
"Hi, Chuck. Ellie told me everything. I'm so happy for you!" She looked past him, at his pregnant wife standing beside him.
"Mom knew where Sarah was, too. Nothing else," Ellie assured him. He had guessed that much yesterday.
"So, what, are you baby-sitting by day, and working for the CIA at night?" he asked.
"Something like that," Mary said with a smile. "I'm semi-retired."
"She works as an advisor, Mr. Bartowksi," he heard Jane Bentley's voice. He turned as she strode into the room, dressed in a severe suit, her smaller stature doing nothing to detract from her imposing presence. "It's good to see you, again," she clipped austerely as she moved into the room.
They moved to sit, Chuck closest to the head of the table. He turned his chair sideways, his right elbow on the table. "Your sister was read in on every mission included in Operation Bartowski. Her clearance is level 6, same as everyone else in this room."
Ellie didn't miss how wide Chuck's eyes became, as he realized now what his sister was truly privy to. Ellie actually interjected quickly, "And before you say anything else, can I please just say one giant sorry for any grief that I ever gave you all that time, ok? Most notably the drunken tirade in the bathroom, on what was supposed to be my wedding day? I think even if you'd told me then my reception got broken up by gunfire and storm troopers, I wouldn't have believed you. But I'm sorry."
He smiled genuinely, looking at the table top sheepishly. "Yes, well, let's continue," Bentley added, somewhat impatiently. "This is Project Restoration. And before you start, Mr. Bartowksi, listen to your sister."
Ellie stood, clicked on her computer, and it projected onto a screen in front of them. "It began with what the CIA called Black Morning in late 1977. Dad and Hartley Winterbottom were working at Oxford University doing research for a hazard waste conglomerate. Hartley was a nuclear physicist. Dad was in the process of developing his molecular computing technique. That's how they met," Ellie seemed to break from the pedantic speech to tell Chuck that, specifically.
"Hartley was very close to developing a way to neutralize radioactive waste. They were working with a microbiologist named Paul Jeffries. He had developed a genetically modified strain of Bacillus that could digest and eliminate radioactive particles. For commercial purposes, that would have saved literally millions of dollars a year in storage and shipping of hazardous material, never mind the environmental applications."
Chuck cut in. "What was Dad doing? Why was he working with them? He was a computer scientist."
"Not just any computer scientist, Chuck. A molecular computer scientist. Using DNA and molecular biology hardware instead of what you know as computer engineering. Using DNA as a carrier of information instead of silicon transistors. He designed the system used to implement the process Hartley and Paul had theorized."
Slowly trying to integrate this knowledge into his brain, Chuck offered, "But something went wrong, right? That's what I'm sensing."
Mary was the one who spoke up. "Not with them," she sighed. "In the late seventies, a man named Mitya Poshenko was the primary driving force behind arming the Imperial Iranian Army. The ones that started the Islamic Revolution and overthrew the Shah. He thought ridding the world of nuclear waste that he could potentially weaponize was not in his best interests. He was attempting to acquire the technology. So the CIA sent me to London, to secure Stephen and Hartley as assets."
Chuck turned completely around in his chair, staring open-mouthed at his mother. "Dad was an asset?" She saw the disbelief, the sad irony as he realized how closely his own life had paralleled his father's. Sarah looked stunned. "But Dad was a spy. He was Orion. Like a master spy."
Mary seemed emotional for a moment, and she sounded almost hoarse when she answered. "Like you, Chuck. He became one. For me."
Sarah watched Chuck's hands trembling as they lay on the table top. She squeezed his hand tight, seeming to shake him out of his incredulous state.
"That's a story for another time, and another place," Mary stressed, trying to keep their personal situation out of this room as much as possible. "For now, just know this. I met up with an MI6 agent when I was there. She worked in psy-ops. Her name was Corrine MacArthur. She became my closest friend."
Squinting, knowing the name was familiar, Chuck was about to say so, until Ellie clicked her computer, and a photo appeared, a very old, traditional photo. "My God," Chuck gasped, seeing the resemblance immediately. "Vivian Volkoff. She's...she's.."
"Vivian's mother. She was married to Hartley, before he became Alexei Volkoff. Hartley and Stephen were like you and Morgan," Mary explained. "Corrine and I were like sisters. Not the best situation for two spies, but, as you well know, Chuck, sometimes, relationships like that can be assets instead of liabilities. Or maybe both, considering the circumstances. You know what happened with Agent X, Project X. What you don't know is why. Corrine was sent to infiltrate Poshenko's inner circle. But she stopped communicating with MI6 in September of 1980. The CIA thought she'd turned, given Poshenko the information he was looking for. I made every case I could think of to tell them they were wrong, that she would never do such a thing. They wanted me to go in and retrieve her. Hartley made an impassioned plea on my behalf, telling them he was the subject matter expert on the procedure, he knew how they planned to weaponize it. They agreed with him, and sent him instead. Only, you've met Hartley. The real Hartley, Chuck. He was no spy, and he knew it. But he couldn't not help her."
"Does that sound familiar?" Sarah whispered to Chuck, a very slight curve to her lips. The side of his mouth ticked up very slightly.
"Stephen had been in the process of developing what you now know as the Intersect. Very early stages. It was nowhere near ready to be implemented. But Hartley begged your father. So he used it. He never told anyone but me that he had. And you know how that turned out. But before it went completely off the rails, he found Corrine. Got her out of harm's way. We thought everything was ok. But the change was subtle. Hartley acted like someone with multiple-personality disorder. It was gradual, and by the time it was apparent, it was too late. Once he was completely Volkoff, Hartley was gone. Corrine, and Vivian, weren't safe. Your father worked night and day trying to figure out how to reverse its effects. We both did. All the while, I had you and your sister at home. Chuck, you were just a baby when this all happened. But I was gone, a lot, when you were small. All because of this. I left in 1990 with the intention of being gone for three weeks. It ended up being 20 years."
Chuck knew all of this, at least the broader points, from his past dealings with this situation. Hearing it out of his mother's mouth again only made him feel worse, for his father, and the guilt he had lived with all his life. His responsibility to keep his family safe and his responsibility to correct the horrible mistake he had made. It hit him again, like it had, the day Sarah and Casey had pulled him out of Rourke Industries, and left his father behind. Sarah's memory, quietly working without anyone else's knowledge, scrolled back as well.
XXX
April 9, 2009
Rourke Industries, Los Angeles, California
Casey had the grip on him, thankfully, because Sarah by herself would never have been able to pull him back alone. Chuck was flailing, screaming, and Sarah felt her heart breaking as she listened. She knew Casey was beyond angry, after Chuck had tranq'ed him and took off, disobeying orders yet again, but she saw none of it on Casey's face, only that light whisper of compassion that she had seen only once before, as he'd stood next to her and asked Beckman to let Chuck talk before Sarah was dismissed.
"Chuck! We have to go now! I promise you we will fix this, but we can't fix it now! We have to get out of here!" Sarah yelled over the sound of his voice.
"I told you Roark had an Intersect. It's faulty, but it was here. My father built the Intersect! Don't you see?" Chuck groaned, almost lifted off the ground by Casey as they ran.
"Wait, Chuck. What did you say?" Sarah asked, yelling, as they still ran.
"Sarah, my father. He's Orion," Chuck breathed. Sarah's gasp echoed in the corridor. She had never imagined how that could be.
"Great. And now Fulcrum has him to fix their broken Intersect," Casey grumbled.
Time seemed to dilate then contract, all jumbled together in an angry, confused haze. Chuck found himself in the back of Casey's car, still reeling from everything that had happened in such a short period of time. "We'll get the intel back to Beckman, Chuck. No wonder he let you find him," she added, almost to herself. "Beckman said they've been looking for Orion for a very long time."
"Sarah," Chuck breathed, as tears streamed from both of his eyes. "Don't you see? My father was a spy. He left us...because he was trying to protect us. Ellie and me. I hated him for so long...I was angry at him for so long...and...all that time, he was only trying to keep us safe." He leaned forward, burying his face in his hands, shuddering as the tears flowed.
Sarah had never seen him this broken before. She felt like there was a knife twisting into her gut. Wrapping her arm around his back, she rested her head against his shoulder, the closest approximation to an embrace that she could manage at the angle where they were sitting. "We will get him back, Chuck, I promise you," she whispered against his cheek. He only continued crying, and she couldn't let go of him.
She caught Casey's eye in the reflection of the rear view mirror, intense but not in the least bit angry. Casey, at the very least, understood how she felt about Chuck, would understand why she held onto him and wouldn't let go.
He knows that I love him.
The words blazed across her brain, stealing her breath for a split second. Casey knew. But did she? Yes, she did. It was like a swollen river overrunning its banks, finally admitting it to herself, a feeling she had been fighting for what seemed like forever. It should have been an immense relief, but it wasn't. Nothing else had changed-not the situation, not her role in protecting him, nothing. All she had now was a name to her dilemma, and absolutely no idea how to deal with it.
Other than hold him as he wept, and promise him that she would do everything in her power to fix the situation. While continuing to keep those feelings under cover.
XXX
July 8, 2012
Chicago, Illinois
Ellie started talking again. Chuck noted how calm she seemed, realizing all this was old news to her, and she had had the time to deal with this. "Fast forward to today. There were nine total downloads of the Intersect. Hartley Winterbottom, in November of 1980. Dad himself, shortly after (she made a wide-eyed shake of her head, as if reproaching her father's actions,) You, Chuck, with Bryce Larkin's email. Yours was pure, Chuck, straight from Dad's program. The one you downloaded again, for the second time, was also based on Dad's program, but enhanced with more information-fighting skills, languages, etc." Ellie took a deep breath, and looked directly at Chuck. "The one you have now is also the pristine version, although the CIA added something else. From the beginning, after the 2.0, you couldn't always access it, especially when you were emotionally overwrought. They added a fix for that, based on a drug called laudanol. When activated, the Intersect suppresses parts of the amygdala and hypothalamus responsible for emotion regulation and expression, like the drug would do when ingested."
Ellie stopped, noticing how pale Chuck looked, as he averted his eyes to the floor. Sarah had both hands on his shoulders. It was only then that all the pieces in her mind connected, and she at last understood what had truly happened to her brother, after Sarah had left. This was not the place or the time, but she knew, as soon as this was done, that she needed to talk to him again. Eventually finding herself, she continued, although her tone was weaker, "Daniel Shaw, Morgan, and Sarah all had the faulty version that was reverse engineered from the Fulcrum Intersect trial that failed after none of their agents could tolerate its placement. Captain Noble and Captain Dunwoody both had prototypes that the CIA extrapolated from the one stored in Dad's laptop that was meant for you. Manoosh had actually developed a portable Intersect, that only activated when the glasses were worn. The origins of his work were unknown, he destroyed the only working prototype, and he has been completely uncooperative in CIA custody."
"You told me there's another," Chuck brought up quickly.
Bentley injected, "From your father's records, after he realized what his creation had done to Hartley Winterbottom, his first attempt to correct it was to build another Intersect meant to cancel out the one Hartley had implanted. The file disappeared. Forensic tracing on a computer program that old was very difficult, but we do know that it was run. Other than that, we have no idea. But that's why your sister is here. To ensure if there is another Intersect running around in the world, that we find him or her. The U.S. government is abandoning this project for good and they want all loose ends tied up."
"Um, hello?" Chuck interjected, raising his hand sarcastically. "Loose end," he said, pointing to himself.
Bentley turned to him, completely straight-faced and said, "Nicholas Quinn downloaded the last working version of the Intersect only a few moments before he was killed by Agent Walker. The file in question is heavily redacted. That order came from my superiors. Are we all clear on that?"
Beckman, was all that Chuck could think. He remembered what Sarah had told him, one speck of information in the swirling tornado he had absorbed only two days ago, but that seemed like a lifetime. She was protecting him. He smiled at the unlikely kindness of his stern yet compassionate boss.
"Why is the government abandoning the Intersect? After all this time?" Sarah asked.
Bentley answered, "Because Dr. Woodcomb has proof that it will never work, no matter what modifications are made, no matter who would ever receive it."
"What?" Chuck asked, on the edge of his seat.
She had tears in her eyes when she answered him. "Because it only works in your brain, Chuck. That's how it was designed."
It took a very long time before Chuck could breathe again.