The Sacrifices One Makes
Okay, readers here is chapter 11 you guys are in for a treat because this time the chapter has been looked over and checked and god knows what else so that you could enjoy it better. All the credit goes to one of my readers who I guess thought enough was enough and volunteered to fix my horrendous grammar his user name is UnYawn and I forbid any other writer from asking him for help because I already called dibs…I'm kidding but seriously I am immensely grateful to this guy because he offered to fix up not just this chapter but also the older chapters that I had posted so once I finish this story I'm going to delete it completely and re-post it with better grammar. Again I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and I'm sorry for posting so late.
I don't own Chuck if I did I would have made Chuck a bit more assertive and not so wishy-washy some of you might like that about him but I didn't so sue me.
Chapter 11
On a Train to Nowhere
Chuck sat in his seat contemplating what just occurred in Paris with his team. To say things went bad was an understatement. He never imagined it would end up this way, and now the only solution to his predicament was to go dark for a while. He would halt all communication until he had a firm grip on who the Ring employed, and that was going to take a while.
Chuck ruffled his hair as he tried dissipating his building stress. There was so much needing to be done, yet somehow team Intersect just doubled his workload. Now, it wasn't just one side he had to focus on. Now it was his own team that he had to keep his eye on so that they didn't do anything to risk his cover. He could taste the freedom awaiting him when this was all over, but it's no excuse to lose focus. Especially not when the risks are higher than ever before.
"Oh, stop it, Charles! You're such a goofball!" A woman's grating Texas accent was heard throughout the train car, and it was getting on his nerves. It had nothing to do with the fact that the woman, as well as her male companion, seemed very similar to Sarah and him in appearance. Also, the man's accent seemed entirely forced reminding Chuck to NEVER do a Texas accent ever again.
In another world, the "Charles's" could have been Sarah and him, but in this world the idea was preposterous. Not because he did not wish it to be true, but because it was not possible. Chuck sat back in his seat and did his best to relax. Once he got off the train, his primary objective was to take the position of Director, and anyone who tried to get in his way was going to meet whatever god they believe in sooner than they expected. Chuck knew many who had their sights on the high seat but only he was worthy of taking it.
Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a man, and a set of images began to flash through his head. As the effects of the flash wore off, Chuck took a deep breath and considered the Intersect's information. The man, known as Juan Diego Arnaldo, is a Basque terrorist. and the two men, one seated at each side of him, appear to be his bodyguards.
The Ring organization is well informed on the happenings of many countries and regions. The Basque region between Spain and France was one of them. In fact, he himself played a part in a bombing or two to keep the region divided. Sometimes he was on the reformist side, in other instances he was on the peacekeeper's side, but in each situation, he would make sure neither side knew he played a role in keeping the area in constant turmoil. Arnaldo's name was whispered with disdain in many circles where he infiltrated the reformist hiding spots and now, the reason was apparent. He joined the opposing team and became an informant.
Chuck was going to do one thing: Stay as far away as possible from this man and his entourage. There was no reason to get involved, and in fact, there were many reasons why NOT to get involved. The most glaring being Interpol was one of many agencies after his ass for crimes against humanity. Judging from the way the two bodyguards held themselves they were definitely Interpol; therefore, Chuck was going to make like a tree and leaf to a different car.
As Chuck stood, he visually scanned the car eventually looking towards the door. As the door to the adjoining car came into view, he caught sight of a woman who seemed to be in her late twenties to early thirties. The flash hit immediately and another series of images ran through his head. "Fuuuuuck" he whispered as the flash on Elia Fuentes subsided. She was a Basque terrorist as well and most likely, her objective was to take out Arnaldo before he gave out any information. So much for letting things be as they were.
Chuck was a quick thinker, and it was the sole reason why he was still alive. Now, he needed to depend on his problem-solving skills, and combine them with some extreme luck. Checking his surroundings, he spotted a nearby man with handcuffs and a couple of feet further away sat a woman with a full-length leg cast. With the framework of a plan forming, he closed his eyes, felt the rush of information run through his brain, and instantly became an effective pickpocket, thus beginning his mission.
Chuck snuck behind a nearby bar, splashed some liquor on his clothes making him smell a bit, then took a swig from the bottle for added effect. As he began his approach towards handcuff-guy, Chuck made himself as inconspicuous as possible assuring the two Interpol agents did not identify him. Then, he feigned tripping and bumped into the handcuff man. "Oh man I'm so sorry dude I'm not feeling like myself are you alright," Chuck slurred. The stench of alcohol made the man turn his head a bit giving Chuck his window of opportunity. Using the distraction, he purloined the restraints while turning around in the direction of the injured woman.
Casually walking towards her, Chuck flashed and this time he learned to speak Swiss. One thing he learned while on his own is he could be a damn good charmer when needed. He put on his best smile for the lady and approached her with a helpful demeanor. "låt mig hjälpa ludd din kudde" (let me help fluff your pillow) he said softly. She nodded graciously. As Chuck bent down to fix her pillow the lady seemed to blush a bit from how he smiled warmly at her. As his eyes held her returned gaze, Chuck slipped his hand into her bag and deftly removed her bottle of pain pills. With the first phase of his plan finished, he gave her one last smile and returned to his seat.
As Chuck worked his way through the railcar, he noticed Elia had taken a window seat and appeared to be drinking white wine. Something now seemed off. Then, Chuck identified two men among the passengers. One of these things is not like the other, one of these things isn't the same, he thought. Chuck wanted to laugh but held it in and schooled his appearance thinking, you stick out like a sore thumb keeping a hand under your coat gripping a pistol. Thankfully, you two decided to sit together.
Taking a quick glance, Chuck took note the pair were drinking beers. With a quick sniff, he confirmed the stench of alcohol still emanated from his clothes. Showtime. He staggered in their general direction, feigned a trip into them, and spilled their drinks. Chuck slurred, "Hay dios mío perdon, perdon, perdon, I am so, so, SO sorry mis amigos." The two men were making every effort to remain calm as they did not want to be noticed. "No! I cannot accept this mess I've made. Let me buy both of you another beer. If I don't mi mama would never let me live this down, God rest her soul!" Begrudgingly, the pair accepted Chuck's offer for replacement drinks. "Two beers for the gentlemen, please," he requested at the bar. Once the barkeep turned his back to pour the pints, Chuck reached in his pocket, daftly opened the pill bottle, and shook out eight capsules into his hand. Two pints appeared shortly. Chuck nodded his thanks and paid the bartender while patiently waiting for him to turn his back to him. Once the bartender turned, Chuck immediately scanned the area. Seeing all clear, he quickly poured the contents of 4 capsules in each pint. That should knock them out quickly.
Chuck carefully approached the pair handing them the tainted drinks with a smile a quick apologetic nod. Casually with a slight stagger, he left the pair made his way through the railcar towards Elia. As Chuck meandered closer, he concluded the woman was very beautiful, and judging by her pretentious body language, she knew it. Thinking quickly, only one way to play this. Be a bastard…or at least a kind bastard. "Buenas tardes miss, by any chance is this seat taken?" Elia gave him a quick glance, a slight snarl, rolled her eyes away, then ignored him. He took her silence and fed it into his bastard persona. "Hay mujer, tu silencio hace que mi corazón palpite mas rapido," speaking huskily while taking the seat in front of her. A hint of a blush betrayed her approval, yet she continued wearing her hardened mask.
"I am sorry if I am being too forward, but I must say you are gorgeous, la Mujer mas Hermosa que e visto, and judging by your hands, you are not married. Either that or you seek to escape from a loveless marriage by enjoying a night of passion. I would be honored to be the man who has you moaning in ecstasy." Somewhere during his little speech, he caught her full attention. She shed her uncaring façade, and now bore an expression close to a hungry lioness.
"Is that right mister…" she left the sentence hanging. "Carlos" he responded while slipping his hand on top of hers. Chuck noticed immediately the hairs on her forearms stood on end her pupils dilated meaning one thing. She was aroused. "Well, I would be lying if I said that your proposal wasn't enticing, but sadly, I am not on this train for long. In fact, I believe the next stop is where I will be getting off," she said salaciously. Slowly she removed her hand from under his, placed it on top of his hand, and crossed her legs.
Matching her tone with his own, "Well, what if I 'get you off', before you get off?" Instantly, Chuck noticed her breathing deeper in a futile attempt to control herself but failing stupendously.
"Mister Carlos, are you trying to seduce me?"
Chuck gave a lust-filled smile, "That depends. Is it working?" That must have been the trigger as she immediately left her seat and walked towards the door to the adjoining car. After a few paces, she looked over her shoulder, gave him a come-hither smile, and nodded her head indicating Follow me.
As Chuck followed Elia to her room, she put on quite a show with an extra side-to-side sway of her hips. She knew she had a specific purpose for being on the train, but it had been such a long time since she had slept with a man out of her own volition, and this man wasn't afraid to treat her like a real woman. Granted he didn't know what she did for a living, but if he was just taking her to bed, her chosen profession would be the last thing on his mind.
She reached her sleeping compartment door, unlocked it, and opened it. She sashayed inside and paused a bit when she heard him enter and close the door. She felt like his eyes were taking her in completely, then smiled as he approached from behind. Little by little, she felt him slowly rub against her back. In a deep, salacious tone she whispered, "Is that a bottle in your hands or are you just happy to see me?" As the object continued to press and rub into the small of her back, she couldn't help but let out a slight, audible moan. Wow! Carlos is tall was her last, fading thought as darkness consumed her.
Chuck hastily stuffed the tranq pistol in the back of his pants since Elia had fallen back into his arms. He carefully laid her on her bed, took out the previously purloined handcuffs, attached one end to the headboard and cuff her wrist with the other. Before leaving, he checked her for weapons by running his hands on her body thinking How times have changed. The old "me" would have thought this to be a big no-no ESPECIALLY to an unconscious woman. Now, it's customary as I cannot leave the enemy with any unwanted artillery. He found only one pistol in her left boot and tossed it out the compartment's window. After a cursory search he stepped out of the room and saw what seemed to be someone who did the room cleaning.
Chuck motioned to him, getting his attention, then said, "I am so sorry. My newly-wedded wife and I had a VERY long night last night." Chuck gave the man a smirk and wink continuing, "So she is sleeping in. Would you please not disturb her?" The gentleman returned a knowing smile, nodded, and walking to the next room's door. Finally, Chuck returned to his seat once more and looked out the window. Watching all the greenery pass him, he reflected on how it had been a while since he did something "good" with no hidden agenda or ulterior motive. The purpose of this little side mission wasn't to cause chaos or aid the Basque peacekeepers. He did it simply because it was the right thing to do by helping a man who decided to end his evil way of living. For the first time in a while, Chuck felt somewhat human again, and even if no one took notice, he was going to be happy, nonetheless.
Chuck spied a waiter walking down his aisle and beckoned him over with a small wave. "Excuse me, sir. Could you do me a favor and give this note to the gentlemen over there and get them some fresh drinks on me?" The waiter nodded with a smile and walked over to Arnaldo and his bodyguards. Chuck discretely got out of his seat and left to an adjoining railcar as to not be seen. As the separating door closed behind him, the two men accompanying Arnaldo read the warning note and quickly left their seats rushing to Elia's compartment.
{o}
Departing the train in Italy, Chuck scanned his surroundings and found the person he was expecting. "Hey, dad. it's been a while, hasn't it?"
Stephen greeted him with a tired smile, "Hey son. What took you so long? This is the second day I've come to the station. Some people were beginning to see me as a loony." Stephen seemed worn down and seemed like he was truly worried.
Chuck couldn't help but feel a bit guilty for not letting his dad know what happened in Paris, but he needed to lay low for a bit. That meant leaving a bit later than what was originally planned. "We need to talk," was all Chuck said. His dad tensed up for a moment. "Don't worry Dad. The governor is working just fine." With a relieved sigh, Stephen calmed down and followed his son.
{o}
The two men sat in a secluded corner of a bar, and both sported a serious and troubled expression. "So, what does this mean Charles? Are you on your own now?" Stephen sat and listened to his son's story and couldn't help an immense anxiousness. This was his only son facing darkness, and now no one was helping him catch the monsters that lurk the streets at night.
Chuck could see the stress eating at his dad. The only thing his dad could do was regular checkups on the governor. No matter where he was, his father would follow because he himself was on the run from the Ring. "Yeah, it seems to be that way." Chuck took a sip from his drink and let the liquor burn his throat while ignoring his father's disapproving look. "I can't trust them to do their part anymore. Casey struggled to follow orders, and now Sarah knows so getting them to do anything would be counterproductive."
Stephen understood this all too well. God damn it! Why did he have to take after his mother? "Charles, what is the next step in this grand scheme in that head of yours?" Stephen forced out. There was no point in trying to convince his son to rethink his plan because he inherited both his father's and his mother's stubbornness. "Who is on your list? Maybe I could do something to lighten your load."
Chuck seemed pensive in letting him in on his mission, then pondered but what kind of father would let his son suffer alone?
"Son, please let me help you," Stephen said softly. He could tell his pleas were heard as Chuck began to fold.
Chuck steeled his face and spoke firmly. "Dad if you want to help me, you need to understand something. You do as I say even if you see danger lurking around the corner. My orders stand above our relationship as father and son. Do you understand me?"
Now it was Stephen's turn to look pensive as he began chewing his nails. Suddenly, he stopped, looked into Chuck's eyes, and then nodded. "If it means I can do something to help you out, I'll agree to your terms."
Giving his dad a small smile, Chuck nodded his head, and responded with, "Alright then. Where to start?"
Chuck followed with a detailed rundown of everything related to the Ring's known operations and activities. The details were overwhelming. Ring operatives worked behind the scenes of conflicts and wars by playing both sides against one another. Depending on the desired result, they would broker weapons deals or take out a strategic politician assuring continued chaos. The Ring was interested in one thing: Control both the peace and the turmoil in destabilized countries all while keeping their bank accounts growing.
Although other Ring divisions would dabble in human trafficking or drug smuggling, war was the primary focus dictated by the Elders. The most profitable aspect was weapons trafficking. No matter how hard Chuck dug he could never figure out who was moving the large quantity of weapons from one end of the world to the other. As far as he knew, only the Elders themselves knew that valuable piece of intelligence.
At the mention of large-scale weapons dealing, Chuck noted a shift in his father's body language. "Dad, if you know something about this, I need to know. Now."
Stephen nodded his head and took a deep breath before responding. "There is only one person with the resources and capability to meet the Ring's standards. He also happens to be the same man that I've been trying to liberate for many years. I knew him years ago as Hartley Winterbottom, but the world knows him as Alexei Volkoff."
Chuck was floored. He didn't know how to respond but what came up next nearly made him fall off his chair.
"You were never meant to know this. Especially now with so much on your plate, but it's important for you to know. Your mother is working under him as his right hand, and she's been trying to bring him down since you were a child."
Chuck wanted to laugh not out of joy but out of pure frustration. He thought angrily, OF COURSE MOM IS A SPY! Then, he questioned himself, I never had a chance, did I? When both parents work in the espionage game how could the children NOT get dragged in? It was inevitable and both my parents should have seen it coming! No matter how hard they tried to keep the espionage and secrecy away, it was only a matter of time before their spy life reached one of us, but I'll be damned if the spy life ever reaches my sister. Over my dead body.
Stephen could see Chuck was angry and he had every right to be. Honestly, he was angry with himself and his wife for never leaving the game when they started a family. To hell with the difficulties of getting accustomed to civilian life. They should have at least tried. Now, it was entirely their fault that one child was pulled in. One thing was for certain. They were going to shield Eleanor away from this life, even if it meant sacrificing oneself.
Chuck struggled to rein in his anger and was extremely tempted to let his father have it; however, shouting at his father now was pointless. The damage was done. There was no reason to cry over spilled milk. He closed his eyes and focused on the objective at hand. With a cleansing sigh, Chuck said, "Dad, I'm not going to lie and say that I'm not angry. I'm beyond angry right now, but right now there are more important things to focus on, but believe me when I say this," boring into his father's eyes with his own, he continued, "when this is all over, both you and mom WILL ANSWER EVERY question I ask, and you BOTH will make amends with Ellie. While your actions nearly destroyed this family, it was her actions that assured this family's survival."
Stephen could only nod his head in resignation. "Charles, you have my word son. your mother and I will fix our mistakes." This seemed to assuage Chuck as he nodded his head in confirmation. Then, with minimal hesitation, he continued outlining his plan of action to eliminate the Ring and all its associates either through custody or six feet under.
"Dad, while I cement my position as the new Director, I need you to use your abilities as Orion to find out who is employed by the Ring. I believe there are outside sources and influencers connected to the organization." Chuck could see the confusion on his father's face. "Even after holding the position for a while, I expect the Elders to retain and hold out. Knowledge is power, but also a safeguard. It keeps the individuals relevant if no one has all the intel pieces. It would take years for this knowledge to be handed down and we don't have years. We are on a much tighter timetable."
Chuck stared at his drink as he said these next words. "I'm reaching the end of my rope. I don't know how long I'm going to last; therefore, I need to end this quickly. I don't believe I will evade my pursuing demons much longer." Chuck knew he wasn't built for the spy life. This line of work was taxing both his body and mind. Add to that the giant program embedded in his brain and you have a ticking time bomb. Governor or no-governor, Chuck was losing it, and this needed to end now. For that to happen all the chess pieces, so to speak, needed to be taken out.
Stephen stayed quiet as his son seemed lost in the dueling voices that no doubt haunted him. He could not imagine what his son had gone through since being pulled into the world of espionage. What has Charles been through for the life to drain from his eyes, and become a shadow of his former self? One thing was for certain. His son was far from giving up.
The discussion now shifted to learning everything known about the elusive, notorious Alexei Volkoff including how his mind ticked and what were his obsessions. His worldwide network was a huge strength and means of protection; however, if the man had one weakness it was his daughter, Vivian McArthur. Alexei hid her away somewhere reared, instructed, and steeled for the sole purpose of inheriting and carrying on the Volkoff legacy. Chuck listened intently. He absorbed every piece of information and stored it away for later use.
As the massive intelligence dump on their shared foe, Stephen and Chuck stood up and hugged each other. "You are not alone son. You know that right?"
Chuck couldn't see his father's face, but he knew his father and how he worked. He was trying to reassure him that everything was going to be alright. "Yeah, dad. I know." With that, they separated and went their own way.
{o}
Chuck walked with purpose as his mind churned at one hundred percent. As he weaved his way through people and their assorted baggage, he continued finetuning everything he needed to accomplish in the coming weeks. His first objective was meeting Alexei Volkoff himself, and it was the primary reason he was walking through Moscow's Sheremetyevo International Airport.
As soon as he made contact with the Ring Elders and advised them of their former Director's demise, they saw fit to appoint Chuck as the new Director. The Elders did not hesitate or even consider a moment of silence for the former. They simply threw the position at Chuck and sent him on his way. It went much smoother than he expected. That was now two days ago, and he was making his rounds, personally meeting with the main Ring players, and advising them of the change in directorship. As he reached outside his contact met him with a smile. "Carmichael, right?" she questioned. Chuck nodded his confirmation and the woman seemed happy her assumption was correct. "Huh. I guess the rumors were correct, you are tall." Then, the brunette turned around and began walking motioning for Chuck to follow. "You can call me Clair and I'll be your designated driver while you are here."
Chuck sat in the back of the Aurus Senat and looked out the window. He was tired and not in the mood for Intersect-mode just yet, so he opted to stay silent throughout the ride. Clair on the other hand seemed to be a talker.
"So, Mr. Carmichael it seems you've been making waves in the organization. Rumor has it you got quite the promotion. I suspect you feel honored not to mention excited," Clair rambled while glancing at him through the rear-view mirror. Chuck was not surprised the Director's death was already common knowledge considering news traveled fast, especially when there was a major change in command.
In any case, Chuck was not going to answer. Clair was objectively a beautiful woman with shoulder-length brown hair, alluring hazel eyes, and an intriguing smile. Her curves were in the right places and her legs may have been sculpted by Michelangelo himself. All in all, she was a well-crafted mole. Chuck was not in a game-playing mood; therefore, he unsheathed his gun, pointed it at her and said, "Stop the car," in a flat tone. Clair seemed confused for a moment until she glanced over and saw the gun pointed at her head.
"Mr. Carmichael, what's wrong? Did I –" Chuck interrupted by thumbing the gun's hammer, cocking backward, and once more pointed the gun directly at Clair's head. "I said stop the car." Clair got the message loud and clear. She immediately pulled over, shifted the car into park, and lifted her hands up. "What gave me away?" She asked as there was no point in pretending.
"You talked too much and asked too many questions," he responded flatly and pulled the trigger. The tranq dart hit her directly on the right side of her neck. She slumped over quickly. Chuck got out of the back seat, entered the front, and pulled her limp body out. After stowing her in the trunk, he slid into the driver's seat and drove to his destination. His mind wandered How do people drive in this crazy winter weather?
Driving up to the building Chuck was amazed at the sheer size of the place. Frankly, it was huge and if the architect was going for imposing, they succeeded as the immense structure figuratively screamed: "fear me." Volkoff knew how to intimidate people, and if it weren't for the fact that Chuck had seen most, if not all, the circles of hell then, he would have been scared. Entering the building. Chuck examined his surroundings. Security personnel were obvious and carried heavy battle rifles and outwardly seemed to fit the description of all-muscle, no-brain. In Chuck's mind, they were not a threat.
The receptionist looked up from her computer as Chuck approached. He noticed the slight blush rise in her cheeks as she seemed to be tearing off his clothes in her mind. "Ummm, uh how can I help you, Mister…" Chuck smiled thankfully not going into Intersect mode as the warmth and charm in his eyes seemed to be the woman's kryptonite. She was melting right before him.
"It's Carmichael, and I believe your employer works with my employers. Please let him know that I would like to share some words with him if it's not too much to ask." Chuck threw one more smile on her encouraging her already typing hands to work faster.
Chuck stood in the elevator as it went to the top floor. Right next to him stood the woman who gave birth to him. The atmosphere was so tense, one was afraid of breathing the wrong way, and Chuck liked it that way. He was not there to kiss and make up, and he could feel the anger directed his way as he watched the floors count away as the elevator continued its ascent. If a person wanted to live forever, all they would need is to be on this elevator. Will it EVER get to the top floor? He was broken from his thought parade as his elevator companion took a deep, audible breath.
"What are you doing here Charles?"
Well, at least she "sounds" regretful. Without turning or a change in posture, he flatly replied, "Fixing your mistakes." Then, the elevator began its deceleration. Chuck closed his eyes, relinquished control, and flashed into Intersect mode. He opened his eyes as the elevator chime signaled their arrival. The doors slid open, and the entrepreneur of death stood before him.
Volkoff had many things going for him including looks, brains, and power, but what stood above everything else was his ability to pull you in with his words. Chuck had never met a man who could sway you so easily with just words. He could nearly hypnotize you to the point you forget something important. You are speaking with a mad man. Volkoff was that good at formulating sentences, and the craziest thing was he did it unconsciously. The man simply had an innate ability to speak eloquently. Combined with his voice's soothing tone, you begin feeling like you could relinquish your guard. Once your walls began to fall, it would be the precise moment Volkoff's trap would spring and capture its prey. Chuck never felt more cautious.
"Carmichael, it is so good to meet you in person. Your employers speak nothing but praise of you. I have wondered why it has taken so long for us to finally meet, considering it is because of you that business continues to boom." His smooth English accent could lull most to a sense of ease instantly. Especially, when he was praising you.
"Thank you, Mr. Volkoff," Chuck replied.
Volkoff began shaking his head while placing both his hands on Chuck's shoulders. Then, he smiled saying, "Please, please, please call me Alexei. Being called Mr. Volkoff makes me feel old."
Chuck smiled back and responded, "Thank you, Alexei. It's a pleasure finally meeting you. Also, to answer your previous question, the reason why we haven't met until now is because I was merely an attack dog for my employers. Now that the man who held the proverbial leash is no longer with us, I've taken his place."
The news brought a smile to Volkoff's face. He tightened his grip on Chuck's shoulders while asking, "Would I be correct in assuming that you had a part in that?"
Chuck smiled back, stared directly into the man's eyes, and stated, "I won't deny nor confirm anything Alexei. Let's just say, I'm happy he's gone." The older man seemed even more pleased at Carmichael's words. As he let go of the younger man's shoulders, Volkoff suggested "What do you say we sit in my office? I have a fifty-five-year-old bottle of Macallan Lalique on my desk dying to be opened," leading Chuck with a directing hand. Both men made their way to Alexei's office with Mary following close behind. Chuck did not need to turn around to know his mother was watching him closely. He could feel her presence. Chuck also had no question Alexei was doing a full background check on him as they walked towards his office. Every security camera followed and focused on him as the group moved through the hallway. It was not a concern because no matter how deep they dug, they would find absolutely nothing.
The two men talked and laughed savoring the Lalique as Mary simply stood to the side and observed. Chuck was thankful his body had a high tolerance for alcohol. College honed the drinking skill to perfection as he took another sip. The elixir was smooth on the tongue but burned his throat slightly. Chuck noted the man in front of him seemed just as unfazed. In fact, he seemed sharper as his gaze was more focused as he said, "So Charles, I believe I provided you a driver, and if I do say so myself, she is quite the beauty." Chuck simply smiled at the older man's comment.
"Yeah, she is. Too bad she's a mole," Chuck quipped noting the frozen responses from both Alexei and Mary.
Volkov kept his face schooled as he responded, "Ah that. Yes, we were aware, but we kept her around feeding her useless information. We needed her bosses to believe they were in control of all that was happening. Charles, it makes my job that much easier." Chuck took another sip and set his glass down, "Well, don't worry she isn't dead. She's merely in the trunk of the car that brought me here." Volkoff cut his eyes towards Mary and nodded his head. She acknowledged with a nod of her own, stood, walked away dialing a phone number, and leaving the two men alone.
The room remained silent as the two men stared one another down attempting to size each other up. After a couple of minutes, Volkoff dropped his smile, turned serious, and spoke. "Well Charles, I believe it's time to dispense with pleasantries now as we have laughed and drank to our content. Now it is time to discuss business."
Chuck nodded as he tabled his tumbler. "Alright then. First things first, I am cutting the amount we're paying to transport weapons by ten percent. Additionally, there are new regions where we need your ships traversing such as Hawaii and its neighboring islands." Volkoff smugly smiled. It almost seemed sadistic.
"No, no, no, my boy. I believe what you meant to say is that your organization will be paying an extra ten percent to our normal rates, and I need you to reduce the number of routes. It is no secret that my ships are stretched thin, and your employers are not the only customers I supply weapons to."
Chuck fully expected this initial, response; therefore, there was no felt intimidation. "Alexei, I believe we are your highest paying customers. So, pardon my language when I say FUCK your other customers." Volkov's eyes widened as the words incensed him to no end. He leaned towards Chuck and in an even, but firm tone spoke, "My, my, my I do believe you should watch your tone, Charles. It would be quite a shame to lose your tongue…literally."
Chuck leaned forward, further closing the distance to Volkov's face, and gave the warlord his widest smile. "Alexei. Don't threaten me." Volkoff did not feel in control of the situation, and he always maintained control. After a subtle breath, he casually leaned back and crossed his legs. "Charles. do you know how many people I've made disappear?"
Chuck did not care and showed Volkoff how little the number mattered as he began to chuckle, "Alexei, you seem confused and believe I'm like every other person who enters your doors. Let me tell you this, none of those people have made a name for themselves as I have, and none have toppled as many syndicates, cartels, and organizations as I have so don't cross me. If you value your life and your possessions, I suggest you do as I say."
Chuck stared deep, through the man's eyes, and nearly into his soul. For a sparse moment, the entrepreneur of death showed a sign that he indeed was still human. Chuck caught a split-second glimpse of fear and Chuck savored the moment. He slowly sat back, raised his drink to his lips, softly sipped, then calmly said, "Now, we've come to amicable terms, I believe that is all the time I have today, Alexei." No sooner had he finished speaking, Mary burst back into the room.
"Alexei, the judge we bribed to free Yuri was caught. It seems the trial will proceed, and it does not appear Yuri will get out of prison anytime soon." Hearing this, Volkoff once more showed signs of fear meaning Yuri was someone very important.
Chuck questioned, "Hmm, don't mind me asking, but who is this man you speak of?" Mary and Volkoff broke eye contact with each other and turned their looks towards him.
Volkoff sighed heavily, "He is one of my bodyguards. He was captured while escorting La Ciudad in Los Angeles, and we have been bribing whoever is in charge of his trial, but it seems it was all for naught. Now it seems, Yuri will be incarcerated indefinitely." Chuck remembered La Ciudad and her henchmen who were arrested with her, but one thing puzzled him. Why is Volkoff working so hard to free one of his men? Why this specific man?
Something was not right, and he was going to get to the bottom of it. From the looks of it, not even his mother understood why they were trying to free Yuri. Typically, Volkoff allows captured assets to sit in prison. "Have you considered breaking him out?" Chuck asked as if it were an obvious solution, but the looks from his mother and Volkoff made him rethink his question.
"Charles, Yuri is imprisoned in a supermax facility where none of the men could be bought. We know because we tried and failed. The only way he gets out is if we blow a hole in the prison wall with over one hundred pounds of TNT. Going to such extremes is very messy. I don't know about you, but I prefer to keep my hands clean."
That last part nearly made Chuck laugh out loud. Your hands are plenty dirty, he thought to himself. Then he cleared his throat, stood, and spoke, "What if I helped you out?" He began walking around the room, looking at various paintings, and formulating a plan.
"Charles, if you break him out, I would be in your debt."
Chuck liked the sound of that. He calmly turned and walked towards the door. Reaching for the door handle, Chuck paused, slightly turned his head, and spoke firmly, "I'll be in contact Alexei. Just remember what you have said today."
Volkoff stared wide-eyed at the young man and could not help feeling a sudden chill run down his spine. Something about Carmichael reminded him of himself and he could not put his finger on it. One thing was for sure. This man was a direct threat to the Volkov empire. "Mary, be a dear and escort Charles out the door." Mary nodded and followed her son to the elevator. Once there she could see him close his eyes momentarily and it was like seeing him take off a mask. Where before there was insanity and chaos, now stood a man who seemed barely holding things together.
"Charles, how are you doing this?" Chuck finally cracked and spilled. He began telling Mary how he got the Intersect not once but twice, and how now he was on a mission to destroy the Ring organization and all its associates. He summarized things quickly as time was limited. He also left out a large portion of why he was on this mission and did not dare speak of who he was doing this for.
"Charles, you need to be careful with that thing in your head. You have no idea the harm it can cause!" Chuck couldn't hold in his anger anymore. "Oh really?! You don't say? Well, thank you for the heads up and here I thought it was normal to have a program stuck in your head! Go Figure!" Mary's eyes went cold as she stared at her son, but he reciprocated the same look, cutting her off, "Don't you dare try acting like a mother right now! You lost that right when you left!"
Mary felt the air knocked out of her system. "I was trying to protect you and your sister."
Judging by Chuck's unwavering stare, her words did nothing to assuage Chuck. In fact, it emboldened him as he showed more anger. "You wouldn't have had to 'protect us' if you and dad had just quit working for the damn government and started to live life like normal fucking people!" Chuck felt his emotions running out of control. He began deep-breathing exercises while reaching into his jacket's inside breast pocket. To his mother's surprise, he brought out a flask of vodka, took a quick swig, then returned it to its home pocket. "I'm not here for you mom. I'm here to do a job and I suggest you DON'T get in my way."
As soon as the elevator doors opened, Chuck stepped out and walked towards the building's front doors. Upon exiting, the cold Russian air hit his face numbing it instantly. He cared less. He entered the provided car, started it, and drove off like a bat out of hell. He needed to keep a clear mind and began pondering ways to free Yuri. Unfortunately, every idea he considered he immediately tossed it as over the top, too much of a scene, or just did not pan out at all. As time passed and he arrived at his luxurious hotel room, he reached the only feasible solution. He was going to need the very people who he decided to avoid. God must really hate me, he thought as he took out his laptop.