Flashback, A few months after the "Fateful" meeting at the Bartowski household
"Patterns, numbers, loops." Chuck blew air from his puffed cheeks, idly fiddling with the wristwatch in one hand whilst the other twirled his pen around. His mind drifted off as he leaned against the tree he sat next to in the NIU grounds, his current assignment almost forgotten by his side.
Admiral Kernan's words still lingered in his thoughts, even though it had been days since their first meeting.
"I guess you don't truly understand the gift you have been given. That's understandable, since you're still inexperienced. Let me clear it up for you – you hold inside your head a tool, a weapon. Possibly one of the most potent to ever exist in the history of mankind."
Since then, Chuck had many things to consider. Yes, being rightfully awarded his Stanford degree and salvaging most of his reputation as a result was cause for celebration. Yes, it was somewhat cool to have a supercomputer which allowed to him to basically do anything on a whim, whether it was performing heart surgery or picking locks with a paperclip; though honestly, gaining said skiil sets wasn't important to him.
What was important to him – what had him worried – was that if anyone were to learn of his situation and figure out his father's identity, it would have grave repercussions for Ellie, Devon, and anyone else he was close to. Michael said as much while informing him about the Intersect. That he would be a game changer sometime in the future, so it wouldn't be a huge leap in logic to assume he'd encounter some unfriendly individuals down the road.
Chuck let out a sigh of misery and started rubbing his temples. Sure, he was a smart guy, but he wasn't a super genius like his dad. He was so far out of his depth where the Intersect was concerned that it wasn't funny.
"Problems in paradise, Chuck~?" A lilting voice called out to him.
Chuck blinked in confusion as he found Lou sitting beside him. Their elbows were brushing together, such was their proximity.
"Geez, Lieutenant. You really scared the crap out of me for a moment. Are you a ninja or something?"
"Me, a ninja?" Lou laughed it off. "Do I look like the sort to dress up in orange and shout, "Believe it" all the time?"
"Is there anything I can do for you, Lieutenant?" Chuck asked, smoothing himself over in an effort to be courteous then deciding it wouldn't do him any good if he went all out.
"That's a bit harsh Bartowski, don't you think?" The beautiful brunette smiled. She didn't seem uncomfortable in the slightest.
Shit! Chuck was fighting a battle with himself in an effort to stay calm and composed in her presence. It was a pretty hard feat, considering she was the most beautiful woman he ever laid his eyes upon... well... since Sarah Walker from Harvard. It was even harder not to let his eyes wander down. And she obviously knew it since she was baiting him into looking, be it with the coy tilt of her head, the touch of smugness in her lips, or the way she subtly leaned towards him.
On reflection, thinking back to all those times that he has seen her around, this was probably just her natural state of being.
Still, Chuck refused to acknowledge that, partly because he was rather curious about why a woman like her was even remotely interested in striking a conversation with him; partly because he was just being himself and didn't want to make this situation more comfortable only for himself, because there was simply no way Lou Palone wasn't used to being stared at, looking like she did.
"I believe in you, Lou. A badass federal agent with super-secret martial art skills like you should be able to handle this much." Chuck said in the most nonchalant manner he could possibly muster. He cracked a bit – he was no Cole Barker or Bryce Larkin – but he was pretty proud of himself for how he dealt with the situation thus far.
"You love being sarcastic, don't you Chuck?" She asked casually, holding an arm out, a single leaf falling into her palm. She blew onto it gently, sending it flying away.
"I picked it up somewhere along the way." Chuck shrugged.
"Oh really?" She raised a eyebrow in curiosity. "I thought you were always this cool."
"Yeah, that's me. Chuck Bartowski, the dashing Jedi Knight in sour armor from LA, at your service." Chuck's lips twitched.
Lou laughed, and Chuck could see she would have been highly sought after during her college days. "You may not believe me, but I find you easy to talk to." She glanced to the side, her eyes soft. "It's a bit weird, but we are alike in more ways than we are unlike. Just like you, I used to have a friend, a teammate, a comrade. Someone whom I trusted with everything. Even with my life. But that lying... two-faced... backstabbing bitch... She took everything that I was, everything I am, and crushed it all under her heel. I was top of the batch, probably one of the best agents out there in the field. But everything changed when I was framed by someone, whom I considered a dear friend, of a heinous crime that I wouldn't commit even in my wildest dreams. And now that bitch's lies have turned me into nothing but a glorified placeholder!" She suddenly shouted, throwing an arm to the side while the other was placed on her chest. She laughed bitterly, letting her forehead rest against her hands. "I am sorry, Chuck. I feel embarrassed... to have unloaded all that on you. I guess that outburst made you look down on me a bit, right?"
"It's fine. I don't mind." Chuck said immediately. "I mean... I understand. Well, not really, but I think I understand you a bit better now. And I won't ever look down on the graceful and poised Lou just because of something like that. In fact, knowing about something like that makes you even more amazing in my eyes."
It was against his nature to be that open with a pretty woman, especially after the whole Jill and Bryce fiasco. Nonetheless, he convinced himself the semi-regular contact he had with her was enough justification for what he was doing right now. Their relationship was usually Lou complaining to him about paperwork – the bane of her existence – whenever she found him sitting late around the campus, when he wasn't at the library or working on his projects.
Lou paused. Surprise latched on her entire being, from the widening of her eyes, to the small 'o' her mouth formed. Gradually, her lips shifted into a satisfied smile, her eyes shone, and – to Chuck's disbelief – she also blushed.
"Thank you, Chuck. Those words mean a lot to me."
"A-ah." Chuck scratched the back of his head nervously. "I said something strange, didn't I?"
"Ufufu. No it wasn't." Lou shook her head, continuing with a teasing smile. "Hearing you say something like that... You are surprisingly weak when being praised, aren't you?"
Chuck rolled his eyes in response. "Feh, whatever. You still haven't answered my original question."
"Well..." She hummed. "You looked like you had a lot on your mind. And as your superior, I should help you to speak your mind."
Chuck blinked as he stared at her, a sudden question popping up in his head. "Superior? Seriously, are you really trying to pull rank on me?"
"Yup. Just because I can. You are just a student on this campus while I am a fully-fledged DIA agent." She repeated in a semi-serious tone, though her lips twitched, betraying a smile. "So, what were you ever so dramatic about just now, Chuck?"
"I wasn't that bad." Chuck protested. "I was just thinking about... stuff." He hurriedly changed words at the last moment, glancing at his watch again. "It's just not... something I can share with anyone."
"Ah... stuff." Lou's smile widened and Chuck flushed a bit, turning his head away from her. It didn't help as much as he hoped. He could practically feel her gaze on him. "Such a deep topic, Chuck. Care to share?"
"Ha ha." Chuck deadpanned. "Just some private things, I suppose. You understand, right?"
"Yes." Lou said softly. "I do."
A brief moment of silence passed between them, neither willing to break it as they returned to their own thoughts. Lou stood up, brushing non-existent dirt off her clothes.
"Well, it's been fun talking to you Chuck, but I have an appointment today, and I can't afford to miss it. No sense in tarnishing my already non-existent reputation, even if it's for LA's dashing Jedi Knight in sour armor." She winked at him, strapping her DIA ID badge around her neck. While she carefully covered the front, he could clearly see the initials Z and R engraved on the back of it. Chuck rolled his eyes, a small smile emerging on his lips. "I know you'll miss me, but please bear with it."
"I'm sure I'll live." Chuck retorted dryly. He took hold of a dense reference book he had been carrying inside his backpack and held it up. "I have much to distract myself with anyway. Don't let me hold you up!"
Chuck felt her stare lingering on him for a little while longer before she went back to what he assumed was the office she was stationed at.
He looked up the cloudless sky, thinking it had been a very interesting day so far.
...xxxxx...xxxxx...xxxxxxxxx...
Dr Jonas Zarnow couldn't believe what he was seeing. To find who he was looking for on random security footage was a sheer stroke of luck. There was the NGA engineer he had been tasked to find, beside none other than the infamous John Casey as they walked out of the conference room.
Now... how should he approach the situation? Mr. Roark had made it very clear he wanted the engineer and technology under his thumb as soon as possible. With that in mind, Zarnow needed to speak with this young man quietly and privately. And very soon. Time was running out for both of them.
...xxxxxxxx...xxxxxxx...
Zarnow stood outside the gates of Ft Meade, right at the spot where John Casey presumably dropped the young man off before driving elsewhere. However, he was still saddled with the insurmountable task of finding a needle in a haystack. His target – who likely wouldn't stick out by himself – was even harder to spot from within a sea of visitors. But Zarnow was close. He wouldn't give up.
A couple of minutes later, he finally spotted him. Zarnow had to be quick as he followed the young man walking along a street, noticing that he was staggering and holding his head rather tightly... before he fell against the wall, struggling to stay on his feet.
"Oh no!" Zarnow gasped. He immediately rushed towards the young man, grabbing him. "Are you alright?"
Chuck was in a daze, gasping. For some reason, his heart was beating rapidly, tingles were felt throughout his body, he was trembling uncontrollably, he was sweating profusely, his throat felt tight, his muscles were contracting and relaxing rapidly, over and over...
Damn it! Why does it feel like I'm dying?!
Zarnow lifted him up and sat him in a nearby bench. Then he dug into the young man's backpack and found a laptop, a wristwatch and a simple notebook. He flipped through the notebook and noted it contained page upon page of various equations and mathematical formulae, not to mention theories and hypotheses. It was clear this man was nothing short of intelligent.
So he is a man of science, like me. Zarnow suddenly remembered why he was there in the first place and spoke to the young man.
"Listen to me. Can you hear me? Are you listening?"
Chuck's eyes remained closed and sweat continued to pour down his face, soaking his hair. Then suddenly, he spoke in a monotonous voice which didn't belong to him.
"Dr Jonas Zarnow. NSA specialist in brain research. Has access to highly classified materials. Has been selling secrets to the Chinese since 2005."
Zarnow immediately paled in shock and horror, whilst the notebook fell from his now lifeless hands. He could not believe what he was hearing.
"Main leak behind the Guangzhou disaster of '05. Affiliated with FULCRUM."
Chuck swallowed hard, feeling his consciousness returning to him and the strange symptoms beginning to dissipate.
"I am starting to feel better, really."
He then composed himself and stood back on his feet whilst shaking his head. He turned to the middle-aged man, who appeared to be completely gobsmacked. As if he had seen a ghost.
"Hiya! Is there anything I can do for you?" Chuck politely asked as he gathered the contents of his backpack and zipped it back up.
Zarnow couldn't believe his eyes. There was no way in hell he had forgotten all those things he uttered moments ago. Unless...
Is he... But... Surely that's not possible!
"You have to come with me." Zarnow pressed on. "There is something seriously wrong with you. I need to examine you as soon as possible. We have a medical research floor in the NSA. You will be treated free of charge."
"Sir, I don't know what you're talking about but I have a bus to catch." Chuck frowned and before Zarnow could utter another word, he was already out of earshot, leaving the scientist to ponder all that he had witnessed. A panic attack, foaming at the mouth, a high fever, that strange manner of speaking... he was familiar with these symptoms, having witnessed them on test subjects in Meadow Branch. The engineer, in contrast to the aforementioned subjects, had immediately recovered and was (at least partially) none the wiser as to what just happened.
Zarnow feared for the young man's safety and sanity. It seemed that his brain had been affected by the Government Intersect; to what extent was unclear right now. He needed to be treated while he still had the chance, otherwise these symptoms would only worsen with time. This wasn't over yet, not even close.
Mr Roark had to be informed.
...xxxxx...xxxxx...
To be honest, the whole meeting with the General felt rather uneventful as if half the day was nothing more than a blur to him. Everything seemed trapped in the haze ever since he corrected the code on that damned rogue agent's PDA. Like he was walking around in a thick fog. He did a special breathing exercise Leo taught him back at the research facility which helped him calm down during panic attacks like this.
He reached up for his watch and groped for a button. A small light projected a virtual keyboard on the surface. Coughing heavily, Chuck entered a few commands and suddenly felt a jolt of electricity entering his nerves, like a pulse. Immediately, the visuals returned to his field of vision, swarming him for a few moments before he felt the loud ringing inside his head slowly fade into the background, allowing him to concentrate once again. His sight-lines cleared up as he started feeling better. He looked down at the watch before smiling, clicking the button once again to close the virtual keyboard before getting back on his feet.
Thankfully, it was nowhere near as bad as the first time he found the watch all those years ago. He almost felt he was going to be perfectly alright. However he knew that something changed inside his head after he answered the Zork prompt. Whether the code triggered something inside his brain or the old Intersect inside his head was reacting to something he had recently seen... He couldn't put his finger on it. But he could tell whatever happened to him was abnormal. He also had an inkling it had to do with his deadbeat super genius absentee father and / or the one and only Bryce Fucking Larkin. They were the only two people in the entire freaking universe who could make him feel like more of a wuss than he already did.
Either way, Chuck was pissed. Today had taken a turn for the worse ever since that Casey guy dragged him all the way here without warning. The damned prick hadn't offered any sort of apology for suggesting Chuck be sequestered inside a bunker, isolating him from his friends and family for an insurmountable amount of time. Furthermore, instead of offering him a ride back, he drove Chuck to the front gate and dropped him off. As if he was a garbage bag ready to be thrown into a dumpster, as opposed to a fellow government employee and a brilliant programmer who probably saved Uncle Sam millions of dollars by decrypting and extracting the very important database from that PDA.
Feh. People like that awoke his inner Darth Vader.
No ride back to Ft Belvoir. Is he for real? I am still very grateful his boss didn't agree with his crazy ideas but it wasn't like I deliberately meant to show him up in front of General Beckman. Damn! At this rate I'll never make it back to my place in time.
Chuck continued his forty-minute walk to the bus station, from where he could get the line 504 bus to Odenton MARC station. He felt worse and worse with each passing second – like a bubbling cauldron of anger, frustration and annoyance, approaching the boiling point. He initially believed being presented with an opportunity to actually work on the government's Intersect would have a positive effect. But ever since that meeting with the General, he couldn't help but feel an ominous pressure building inside him.
Why did I stick my nose where it didn't belong? He actually regretted decoding the strange program, ever since terms such as agent supervision and bunker entered the conversation. He was pretty content with deconstructing the one inside his head and had, to this point, managed to get a basic gist of what that was about. He also had high hopes for his program on three-dimensional textured subliminal imagery, which was currently halfway done. In order to fit the final pieces of the puzzle, he needed to get some pointers from an expert specializing in mapping the human brain's cognitive and spatial functions.
After that, suppressing the computer inside his head or creating another one like it wouldn't be that big of a deal. Unfortunately, such people were hard to find. Sure, talking with his sister helped as she was quite gifted in that regard, but even she still had many things left to learn. Which meant he hadn't made as much progress in the last six months as he initially hoped to.
It wasn't long before he realized he was at the bus stop, all alone. No other person was in plain sight, let alone a vehicle passing by. There was nothing.
"What a surprise!" He muttered dryly and sighed at the same time, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself down.
He looked up at the graying sky, where a sliver of sunlight still poked through. He then mentally spoke to the high heavens. I understand you and I don't blame you. I blame myself for being this way. Despite all the amazing abilities and knowledge I've gained, I'm still the plain old me. He shrugged and rolled his eyes, then sat on the bench and let himself wallow in self-pity.
A blaring car horn brought him back to reality. He focused his gaze on the stylish sky-blue car in front of him.
"Hey lost puppy! Remember me?" The enthusiastic driver said. She had blonde hair which seemed to radiate like pure gold.
"Sarah Walker?" Chuck blinked in confusion.
"What are you doing here?" She asked, narrowing her eyes slightly.
"Waiting for the bus." Chuck pointed to the road opposite where Sarah came from. "Nice car by the way."
Sarah paused for a moment before she spoke again.
"We really have a knack of running into each other in unusual situations." She responded with an amused smile.
"What do you mean by that?" Chuck asked, dumbfounded.
"Never mind. Why don't you hop in? This may take a while to elaborate." She grinned coquettishly. He could tell something was off about her today. She gave him a really cute and innocent look. However, he got the feeling, for the first time since he met her, that she might have some ulterior motives this time around. He wondered if that was just his paranoia acting up.
"Thanks Sarah." Chuck said with a casual smile as he got in. The car got back on the move once he settled in. "It's very nice of you."
"It's the least I can do for a friend." She moved closer to him, slowly sliding her fingers across the edge of his shoulders before ruffling his slightly disheveled hair and whispered into his ears. "Besides, I hope you're willing to extend the same courtesy to me, Mr Golden Boy."
The sound of her husky, melodic voice triggered a sensation that felt somewhat familiar. And at the same time, unusual; it was the first time he felt it during an Intersect flash. The pounding in his head beat to a faster rhythm while he began seeing bytes of data interwoven with different red-tinted pictures floating in front of his mind's eye, all pertaining to a certain woman he met at Harvard many years ago.
Gecko
Semi-automatic pistol
Her picture and classified records, most of it blacked out
Top secret red tab psych file
Killsheet with thirty confirmed official kills
Mission reports
Digital radio
Gecko
The sensation stopped as abruptly as it began.
"Hey, Chuck. Are you there?" Sarah asked, her voice carrying a note of concern as she reached out for his shoulders, only for Chuck to recoil slightly as he tried not to look at her directly. His reaction (along with the fear and shock that emerged on his face) worried her a bit; she was unsure if smiling at him again would put him at ease or exacerbate his unease.
Whilst still reeling from the side effects, Chuck more or less figured out what happened back at the presentation. The perfect formation of three-dimensional images containing all that information had ended up in his brain. Despite being somewhat freaked out, Chuck was still amazed that someone could write a program of that complexity. He was also aware the associated code had given him knowledge on Sarah, information that he had never seen before. It was the kind of information people would will or were killed for.
Ironically, the original purpose of the Intersect program (jointly led by his father and Dr Winterbottom) was to improve memory retention for individuals who had suffered brain trauma. The primary issue they faced was that only a select few were capable of detecting anomalies inside the interwoven data. Theoretically, more people should have been able to retain and recollect all the information, but that wasn't the case.
What scared him was that Intersect technology wasn't supposed to be utilized for the nefarious purpose of coding shady government secrets, like those in relation to his companion. And right now, a certain number of them (at least from what he could tell) were in his head.
He could only groan at that inwardly. If there were angels keeping an eye on him... chances were they'd be laughing their heads off.
Sarah Walker was a known CIA black ops agent and an ace shot as per her secret CIA records. Her beauty was probably in direct proportion to how dangerous she actually was. He always considered himself a pretty good judge of character, although Bryce and Jill's betrayals suggested otherwise. Right now though, he was rather confused about to how to react to the situation. All his knowledge of the woman next to him kinda made him anxious but at the same time, he used to date someone who was in the special ops business. It felt so surreal that Chuck felt like he was losing his mind.
"Um, yes, sorry. I'm sorry... I tried a mild sedative and I guess it's a bit too strong for my taste. No harm, no foul. Just a little migraine to add to my growing collection. I mean, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger." Chuck could tell he was babbling and stopped talking before he embarrassed himself any further. Finally looking up, he gave her a reassuring smile, grateful for all the training he received at Ft Bragg which allowed him to gain some semblance of control over his emotions.
While Chuck's behavior confused her at first, his babbling put her somewhat at ease. She figured that he was just a little bit embarrassed by her mild flirting. Knowing him, even after five long years, he wasn't used to talking to women. Which was a shame, considering he was rather cute. She wondered if Bryce was looking down from whenever he was and laughing at the irony of her situation. She could either make amends for her personal mistakes by telling him everything about Stanford and explain the whole Mr and Mrs Anderson affair to him, or make amends for Bryce's professional one by convincing Chuck to help the CIA recover the stolen data. She eventually wanted to do both and she dreaded both of their outcomes.
It was basically a lose-lose situation for her. She really hoped that Chuck would be able to understand her intentions and look past the fact that she accidently/unknowingly ended up dating the very same man who nearly destroyed his career and stole his fiance.
There is no going back now. I have to take this chance.
"Oh, perhaps you will feel better after a cup of coffee. I know the best cafe in the area." She said in a cheerful tone.
"Sure... Why not?" Chuck nodded after a brief moment of hesitation. Though slightly uncertain, he was sure enough that the code was written by his father, or someone who knew the Intersect as intimately as he did. And somehow, through sheer misfortune he not only managed to figure out how to extract that information, but also unintentionally uploaded it into his brain. Which is something people would kill or were killed for – and yes, that point was worth repeating as many times as necessary. A spy went rogue in order to get it and died while attempting to steal it, after all. He knew he was in over his head. Besides, the last thing he wanted to do right now was stay alone. Sarah may be dangerous but at least she was one of the good guys. And a friend as well. As long as he pretended to not know about her... background, everything world be fine. He hoped.
...xxxxxx...xxxxxx...xxxxx...
Zarnow didn't feel comfortable sharing what transpired an hour ago. As far as he was concerned, he couldn't trust anyone inside FULCRUM with such valuable information. So he kept it under wraps and would to deliver the news to Roark himself, once he arrived at the RI building that evening.
"Mr. Roark, Sir!" Zarnow greeted as he barged into his office with haste.
Roark wasn't thrilled with this act, but he was willing to let it slide as it appeared some good news was forthcoming. "You found the engineer."
"Yes." Zarnow nodded.
Roark was pleasantly surprised. "Ah, see? I knew you would be..."
"I didn't get his name or address." Zarnow stated, regrettably.
If Roark could predict the exact moment of his demise, this would be it. He felt it coming; a vicious heart attack. There was no way the RING Elders would let this slide.
"I don't know who, or where he is. But I watched him suffer a severe panic attack and fall unconscious, like our test subjects at Meadow Branch. However, the moment he heard my voice, something triggered inside him and he uttered top secret details about me and our organization, without even being consciously aware of doing so in the first place."
Roark had to sit down for a moment, had to allow his mind to process this new knowledge. The engineer worked on Larkin's PDA and ended up with some highly sensitive info about Zarnow and their operations. Information that even Larkin didn't have access to during his tenure with their organization. This was a step closer to the Human Intersect program, something Roark had never been able to accomplish before.
"I must know who that individual is." Roark said, his mind spinning. "Who he is screwing up with, who is screwing up with him; I need it all immediately."
"All we have is the security camera footage of John Casey escorting him from the conference room. It's barely noticeable." Zarnow added. "That I even caught it was a perfect miracle. I already went ahead and sent the feed to our analysts."
"Good job, Zarnow." Roark praised. "Now this is what you are going to do: You are going to find this individual and bring him here before the CIA and NSA put two and two together."
"I don't think it'll be that easy." Zarnow responded. "Besides, they might already have someone watching him."
"Zarnow. This young man – assuming he is okay after being affected by the Government Intersect and this trend of recalling top secret information through various triggers continues – may very well be the key to FULCRUM's future success. He could be the weapon that eliminates all of my opposition. You will find this young man and bring him to us at any cost."
"And if I am unable?" Zarnow asked, gathering every ounce of defiance left in his body.
"Let's not think that far ahead." With a vicious smile, Roark patted Zarnow on his shoulders. Which proved to be an effective threat, considering it undoubtedly forced his mind to wander to some very dark places.
...xxxxxx...xxxxxxx...