Chapter 5

The Guardians

I

April 03, 2012

The sun shone bright over the National Mall, warming the throngs collecting to admire the dazzling reds and pinks of the blossoming cherry trees. It was a serene seventy-two Fahrenheit, with the smell of freshly-cut grass wafting about, fueled by a subtle breeze caressing the arms and legs of those basking in the day, picnicking on the lawn, chattering about nothing.

But Chuck wasn't there to admire the atmosphere.

He waded through throngs of tourists, shuffling impatiently toward his target.

Out of breath, he found her sitting on a bench behind the Lincoln Memorial: His old General, Diane Beckman.

"General!" Chuck called out. The woman turned her head, gave him a smile, and waved him over. "Interesting meeting place," he said with a grin as he sat down to his old boss's left.

"Tourists don't often come here," Beckman replied. "No one comes to D.C. to admire the traffic. Gives us some privacy, anyway."

"Smart thinking.

"So… the reason I called you:" Chuck took a deep breath. "I… I think I want back in. I know that things aren't the same anymore but… I had this idea."

"Chuck—"

"Please, General, just hear me out: I thought… I thought I could help the government build a new, better Intersect.

"Now I know what you're thinking," Chuck started firing words out rapidly, "but I – I promise I can do it. I studied my dad's old notes, he gave them to Ellie after he died and she gave them to me and and and I realized I could use them to figure out how the Intersect works better and and debug some of the flaws… I just think, if I could do that, it – it would be so useful to the world, you know? To have more people out there fighting crime, protecting them. This machine is… I just think it can do so much good. Much more… much more than I've been able to do."

The General looked down at her fingers intertwined at her lap, trying to hide a disappointed frown. "Chuck… is this about Sarah?"

"What? No no no," his overreaction betrayed the lie. "No, no I'm over that. I promise."

"I'm sorry, Chuck, the Intersect program has officially been disbanded."

"Well," Chuck interjected vigorously, "maybe I – I can keep doing what I was doing before, you know? Maybe I can assemble a new squad and and do some good that way? I still have an Intersect in my head! The project might be bust, but Project Bartowski doesn't have to be. Does it?"

Beckman thought for a while. She thought of the other big question she needed to answer, one for which her Deputy Director had given her a twenty-four-hour deadline, one which would chart the course of the rest of her life.

Finally, she looked over at Chuck: "Is this really what you want?"

Eagerly, Chuck blurted, "yes, absolutely, one-hundred percent."

Beckman stared forward, past the traffic, to the listless waters of the Potomac. "The Intersect project," she answered, "was officially canceled. Even with your exceptional success, Congress couldn't justify the price after everything that's happened.

"However, there is a way for it to live on. But…" she stared at Chuck with a concerned countenance. "It's very risky, Chuck. We have to use… these people. People we have no business trusting. People who want to fund the project for their own reasons – evil reasons. We'd be undercover, Chuck. And… the price of failure is simply incalculable.

"Is that a situation you really want to involve yourself in?"

Chuck did not hesitate. Perhaps he was overconfident in his own abilities; perhaps he simply couldn't bear to say no.

Beckman got up; expression stony. "Very well. Come to my office at oh-nine-hundred tomorrow. There, I will brief you on your mission."

"Thank you so much General," Chuck spouted, standing to meet her (or, rather, tower above), "you don't know what this means." They shook hands. "You know," Chuck concluded, "you've always been…. I've always really appreciated you."

Beckman attempted to meet his smile, and they parted for the day.

II

Present Time

Director Beckman thought about that meeting with Chuck, over twenty years ago. If she had only refused his offer, so much could have been avoided. But it was too late now.

She was standing in a dark, windowless room, in front of a panel of five shadowed and extremely intimidating agents. The presentation was a lot like the Ring's meeting room, but instead of a spinning ring behind the leaders, this room had the CIA logo illuminated in white.

The person in the center chair, clearly the in the highest-ranking position, spoke in a husky voice:

"Diane, you come before us for your final evaluation." He emphasized the word "final" with menacing force. "On December 17th, you convened an operation to extract a civilian you claimed would help resolve the… issues with our Intersect technology. Despite being a simple pick-up job, this operation resulted in the death of one of our Vice Directors, Jason Gordon. Even worse, not only did this civilian fail to download the Intersect, she ended up killing another Guardian, Corporal Sacha Ling. Is this evaluation correct?"

Beckman quavered in her response. "With all due respect, Chairman Shaw, that assessment is not quite correct."

The panel nearly erupted in chatter. They found this reply from an underling like Beckman offensive. Chairman Shaw, however, responded calmly: "Of course; I understand you have some hypotheses to share with us?" His tone made it clear he thought of Beckman's report as nothing more than a pitiful attempt at saving herself.

"Chairman; Directors; Vice Directors; I would request you revisit the records of the Julia Howard Incident, along with the video footage taken from the security camera in the Intersect room. We all understand Julia disarmed Corporal Ling with a pen – this pen," Vice Corporal Beckman whipped out the aforementioned weapon from her breast pocket. "The carotid artery was cleanly punctured, a precise action which I contend could not have been performed by such an inexperienced individual unless aided by an Intersect."

Some of the panelists stifled laughter. Even Shaw's airy tone exposed amusement. "Are you really trying to spin to us, Diane, that Julia actually did download the Intersect; she just, what, chose not to flash on the Zarnow intel?

"I have to say, I think we were all looking forward to some more traditional whining for your life; but this spin? This is pathetic, Diane, even for you."

"If you would simply let me explain," timorousness gave way to frustration in Beckman's voice. "First of all, Julia obviously did not successfully download our Intersect.

"Agent Miller's initial debrief was not the most forthright: we all know Vice Director Gordon was killed in the process of acquiring the subject. We all know his killer most likely to be the source of disappearances of other members of the Bartowski lineage, along with the Winterbottom, Noble, and Dunwoody bloodlines – as well as, Chairman, members of your own.

"We were also told that Agent Miller was able to prevent Julia's abduction that night. This was a lie. Live satellite footage of the scene, obtained earlier today, show Julia being abducted by a nondescript male, and transported to a remote area of northern Wisconsin. It appears this kidnapper left clues for Agent Miller, leading her to the location in which he eventually abandoned his target.

"His plan was clearly not to disappear Julia like he had the others. I believe he wanted to use her – to put her in the line of fire, to mislead us about the advancements in our understanding of the Intersect. I think he put something in Julia's head to deactivate our Intersect, in attempt to convince us to shut our project down."

"How convenient," Chairman Shaw interjected, "that some omniscient person who apparently knows all about our work, not to mention how the Intersect itself functions, interferes with your mission in attempt to socially engineer this very scene. I must say I'm tempted to laugh in your face… but," the Chairman sighed, "I can't help being intrigued by your hypothesis. Who, I must ask, do you believe this person to be?"

"Who else than the one living person who knows more about the Intersect than anyone outside of this room? Who else would be so motivated to sabotage our project than the former Guardian who knows its true potential?

"Who else but Chuck Bartowski?"

Chairman Shaw anticipated this response, and almost interrupted Beckman with his follow-up: "But why would Chuck put his own daughter in harm's way to do such a thing?"

"I admit, I've pondered that a lot," Beckman replied, almost as fast. "Chuck has been on the run nearly twenty years. Most likely, he's scattered his family across the far reaches of the globe, to keep them safe. I would imagine he hasn't seen his loved ones in a very long time. And as far as he knows, no matter how long they stay hidden, we would never cease our pursuit.

"I believe he felt he had no other option but to set this trap for us. He was desperate. He gave his daughter a flash for protection, but that was all. Perhaps he felt that if he gave her anything more, she would be more easily exposed as an Intersect."

The room fell silent while the panel ruminated. If Beckman could read minds, she'd know she only had one person up there willing to believe her.

Finally, the Chairman spoke. "Bring this satellite imagery to my office immediately after this meeting. If it checks out—"

The panel exploded in outrage. Protestations rang through the room, drowning out their leader. He pulled out a gavel to cut through the noise.

"CALM," SMACK, "DOWN," SMACK, "EVERYONE." SMACK.

"I am the Chairman. I have the final say.

"I understand and agree with you all. It's an audacious tale, at the precipice of lunacy. But, what if it's true? What if we actually do have an Intersect candidate? What if we actually can proceed with our project?

"Personally, I'm willing to take the risk: I'm giving the Junior Agent a very short leash: If this sat imagery checks out, you will have twenty-four hours to recover Charles Bartowski. If he can remove this Intersect-deactivation programming – or whatever it is – we'll finally have our candidate.

"And if you don't recover Chuck by then: I'll disembowel you myself."

The other panelists suppressed their emotions. Despite the litany of chances their Chairman had unreasonably bestowed upon Beckman in the past, they had to admit this was a sound decision.

Beckman nearly collapsed from relief: she had been stiff as a board during her testimony, anticipating at any moment the bullet that would snuff her out. Now, she's not out of the woods, but at least she has some time.

"One more thing, Diane," Shaw resumed. "The five of us here… we're not stupid. You can't pull the wool over our eyes as easy as you can one of the normies who work under you.

"We know this detour Julia took wasn't omitted in Agent Miller's testimony. You deliberately hid it from us.

"Frankly, I don't think anyone here would blame you, but this transgression casts doubt on your loyalty. So, to prove your commitment to the Guardians, we want you to terminate Agent Miller, following delivery of the aforementioned intel."

III

Betelgeuse nearly had a heart attack when he saw Director Beckman walk out of the Guardians' meeting room alive.

How could this happen? His heart pounded. His mind raced. How could they let her LIVE?

It was a disaster: the project was continued; they had a viable Intersect candidate securely in their grasp; and the moment they realized the self-destruct function in Julia's head was no longer operational, they'd have their Intersect.

Not to mention: they would have tracked him to his cabin. When he had 'bet the house' on Beckman's deception, he was being literal as well as figurative.

Betelgeuse tried to think. But he was too panicked: His last, most desperate plan was foiled. He had no idea how to stop them. Unless….

It was suicide, but there was no other option. He could try shaking their tail, but that would mean sacrificing Julia to the CIA's project. There was simply no way he could let that happen.

Franticly, he got dressed for the winter weather. He thought about torching his cabin, but remembered the centrifuge was still spinning: he couldn't risk losing his chance to confirm his lineage to Julia.

Fortunately, there wasn't really anything of value in there anyway: The Ledger was safe; that's all that really mattered.

He stuffed a pager into his pocket: the centrifuge would send its results to that device, provided it completed before any CIA raid commenced. He also retrieved a small monitoring device, tied to the secure network from which he stole CIA CCTV footage. This device was programmed with facial recognition tech to always display whatever feed featured the three women he was watching: Robin's feed was black, for she was in her unmonitored quarters. Beckman's showed a hallway through which she was walking, and Julia's showed the OR in which doctors continued their life-saving work.

Finally, he stuffed a thin, disc-like explosive device into his trench coat.

With these, he fled his quiet cabin, en route to Langley.

IV

The Oval Office was awash in the warm light of the five PM January sunset. Central heating kept the President comfortable against the bitter chill outside as he stood behind his chair, marveling at the snow cover. The walnut brown Resolute Desk cast a long shadow across the Seal of the United States of America rug, cutting it in half.

A military official opened the door. The president turned around. The Director walked in.

"Director Beckman," he said with a warm smile, "please come in." He gestured to a gaudy blue-and-yellow-striped couch, to which the pair both walked.

"Turn off your phone," he whispered as he and the Director sat beside each other. He did the same with his.

"Chairman," Beckman started with trepidation.

The President interrupted with a chuckle. "I think at this stage you can call me Martin." He caressed his companion's shoulder.

Diane softened a bit and spoke with a whisper. "I brought the footage you requested."

"You know I don't need to see that, Diane. I trust you completely.

"I really can't express how relieved I am that you made it out of that meeting. I couldn't…" his expression grew dark. "I don't think I would've been able to give the order."

"Then we'd both be dead." Diane looked hard at her partner. "You have to be there. There's no other way to stop them. If that means…" her voice quivered. "If that means taking me out, you know it's the right course of action."

Both characters suppressed tears.

"You know…" Martin choked up. "I can't stall them any longer. They're suspicious enough as it is. If we don't execute our counter-offensive soon, we'll both be dead anyway.

"You have to bring Chuck in. Tomorrow."

Diane nodded.

Martin ran his finger gently down her cheek as he continued. "They can forgive you for Robin so long as you bring in Chuck. You know the plan, right?" He handed her a small bag, which she placed in an inside pocket of her jacket.

The duo stood up. Martin embraced Diane warmly. "I love you," he whispered in her ear, then moved in for a passionate kiss.

President Shaw watched Beckman leave, then paced gravely around his desk. The sun illuminated his face in a vivid red glow as it set.

It was all so simple before… before her. Now, he's stuck between worlds, indecisive, unable to pull the trigger.

The only two things he knew for sure: He would avenge his brother one way or the other; and whatever happened, he'd always have a plan B.

V

Robin had been sitting in her quarters all day. She had heard nothing of what happened earlier that morning, and was starting to get anxious when she never heard Julia return to her adjacent room.

Could the CIA have actually…

Nah… they wouldn't do anything to hurt a civilian. That's preposterous. The fact that Julia showed no reaction to the Intersect inducement triggers was unfortunate – probably she failed her experiment – but they wouldn't… like, surely the U.S. Government wouldn't punish her for that… would they?

They weren't done with their experiments – probably they either were still going, or Julia passed, and it's just not within Robin's security clearance to know what they're doing. Yeah, must be something like that.

But… why did they tell me they needed me?

When Agent Hernandez returned Robin to the main building, she was immediately stuffed back into this room. That was six hours ago.

What is going on?

Abruptly, the door to her quarters opened. Director Beckman entered. The door closed.

"Director?!" Agent Miller immediately straightened her posture.

"Sit," the Director returned, coldly but with an anxious visage.

Robin sat on the foot of her bed. The Director sat to her left.

"Listen to me." Her voice was barely louder than the whir of the AC. "There's… something going on. It's difficult to explain but… you… let's just say, you're in danger.

"There's a conspiracy within the CIA." Robin hung on every word Beckman struggled to mutter. "A sectarian group. They call themselves 'The Guardians'. They're the reason Julia was brought in; they're the ones pushing for this Intersect project.

"They—"

"Is Julia okay?" Robin had to ask, etiquette bedamned.

Beckman sighed. "I admire your fraternity toward your subject. Julia… last I checked, she was still fighting. She…

"Something happened," Beckman added after a hesitant pause. "Probably she'll live, but – I can't guarantee anything at this point. She was shot, and by the time we got to her, she had lost a lot of blood." Beckman tried to hide her own guilt while Robin processed this information in silence.

"But that's not your primary concern right now. I've been ordered to kill you."

Robin shot an apprehensive look at Diane.

"Of course," Beckman put a hand up, "I'm not going to do any such thing.

"I don't have much time—" Beckman stared at the door like someone was going to barge in. "This… group: They want to use the Intersect for something much more nefarious than training agents. I infiltrated them long ago, but I've been struggling ever since to get out.

"I need your help. The man who kidnapped Julia: do you know anything about him?"

Robin shook her head. "Never saw him. Julia said she was passed out the entire time she was with him, but—"

"Okay Julia was lying but that's not important." Beckman glanced hastily at the door. "I don't have any more time. Listen carefully: we have to stage your death.

"I'm going to inject you with this:" Beckman pulled out the bag President Shaw had given her. Inside was a small vial full of dark green liquid, a needle, and a blood bag. "This is a modified Tetrodotoxin; it will slow your heart rate and your breathing, making you appear dead for about three hours. You won't be able to move during this time, but you should be safely zipped up in a body bag for the duration.

"I'm going to make some small cuts where the entry wound is supposed to be. The blood I think is pretty self-explanatory.

"When you wake up, you'll be in a remote CIA dump site in Appalachian Pennsylvania. From there, I need you to intercept this abductor.

"We traced his movements from the time he took Julia. Currently, we believe he's coming to us. It's hard to explain, but the point is, I need to meet with him personally. And to do that, I need you to take him to this location." Beckman handed Robin a scrap of paper with some text written on it. "The Guardians are watching me; they won't let me go further than D.C. without assuming I'm trying to escape.

"If you can bring him in, the Guardians will let you live." Probably, Beckman added mentally.

"There's a junction in Breezewood, a tiny town near the dump site. Wait for him there: he should pass by in about twelve hours. License plate XAV-174. He should recognize you, anyway."

"I'm going to leave you a knife as well, in case you run into trouble. But other than that, you're on your own. If you miss him, or if he changes his mind… just, don't come back without him." With this, Beckman got to work, injecting the cooperative agent, laying her down, placing the various aforementioned items in her pockets, and staging the murder. It wasn't the most convincing scene, but she didn't think the meathead stationed outside to help dispose of the body would notice the difference.

Finally, Beckman rolled Agent Miller on her side, pointed behind where her heart would lay, and fired her weapon into the bed.

In an instant, the assistant barged in, wheeling a gurney with a black, open body bag. The pair hoisted Robin in, and the burly agent zipped her up. While they wheeled her out of her room, Beckman discreetly pushed the zipper down a centimeter, to help ensure Robin didn't suffocate.

VI

Betelgeuse was only three hours from his former lodgings when his pager rang.

He checked his phone: no perimeter breach. The integrity of his test was affirmed.

He pulled out the pager, and nearly ran his car off the highway when it flashed a bright red 'NEGATIVE'.

A/N

I have to admit, my feelings about this chapter have waned over the course of the week. Particularly, I just feel the exposition is clunky in spots, yet I don't seem to have the energy to iterate on it any further. I hope Chapter 6 is better.

Hope y'all enjoy in any case!