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The Difference
He managed to do everything and didn't even know how he did it. He felt as if he was too reckless sometimes, but he just couldn't help it. He always had too many issues to deal with at the same time.
Now that the moment of crisis had passed, Chuck had to admit it to himself – the program he created back in his Piranha days was more or less executed to perfection. Judging by the looks of awe and wonder on both Casey and Sarah's faces, it seemed he had also managed to impress seasoned spies like them. On top of that, he was even starting to enjoy all the attention, which was a bit unusual for someone of his humble disposition.
Sarah shook her head fondly at him. "You are crazy, you know that? You are very good at improvising, Chuck. I will give you that. First that chlorine gas and now this? Still, how did you manage to disable the bomb?"
"I kind of overloaded the system, you know. It was a program I created back at Stanford; basically it kept writing over and over the memory modules, creating a huge amount of data on the fly which caused the system to crash due to resource starvation. Err... Sorry. I tend to ramble when I'm nervous and you probably don't care about all the technical details. So I guess... that's how I did... it."
Chuck rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish smile. Even while passing both his special agent and analyst training with flying colors, his affinity for being clumsy hadn't gone away entirely. In action or when he was supposed to utilize the O-Intersect, it hadn't been an issue for the most part, given how much he dedicated himself to becoming physically, intellectually and mentally stronger. A lot of training had centered around combat and getting a handle on what was inside his head. He'd learned how to utilize his flashes better and also focused on mastering his hand-to-hand skills, with and without melee weapons. In addition, he was decent when it came to modern firearms, loath as he was to actually use them.
It always felt much easier to pretend he was hiding behind a suit and mask. That was why, if the situation demanded it, he could pretend to be a completely different person. Like a Call of Duty character.
But right now, he couldn't help but feel a bit clumsy next to Sarah, fumbling nervously with his tie.
Sarah gave him a mischievous grin. He was such an adorable and modest gentleman, if at times awkward. Her hand immediately made its way to his and stopped it from fumbling in the process, leaving the crumpled tie in peace. Meanwhile Casey just grunted in response.
"And I bet you find yourself in such deadly situations all the time, Bartowski?"
Chuck let out a small smile. "Legacy of a misspent youth as a Nerd Herd supervisor, Major."
As they were about to head out, General Stanfield hailed them over to personally congratulate all three of them for their timely action in saving so many innocent people.
"Thank you so, so much for what you have done, Agents. I will personally pass my recommendations on to the DNI and you can expect at least the Intelligence Commendation Medal for your heroic actions. And as far as you are concerned, young man..." He then glanced towards Chuck with a knowing smile, motioning him to come closer.
Sarah and Casey couldn't hear what Stanfield had to say to Chuck in such hushed whispers but once their conversation ended, he gave a bark of laughter which rapidly evolved into a full-on belly laugh. Tears were squeezing out from the corners of his eyes as he held his sides.
"Oh... please... Ah... hahahaa... So this was the big secret. I thought it was something worse..."
"C'mon!" Chuck howled. "I just hope this can keep the old timer from going from a class 10 to a class 3, in terms of yelling..."
Stanfield laughed and patted his shoulder. "Well, I thought you had more or less gotten used to it by now, Skyguy. But don't worry. I will handle the rest." He left in a joyous mood, shaking his head with a booming laugh.
Casey didn't like the fact that Bartowski was getting chummy with another Intelligence Community head honcho. He was turning out to be too much of a wildcard. While he undoubtedly believed him to be a good Samaritan through and through, he was also a bit flippant and a little too sure of himself, even when leading them to a bomb set to go off at any moment. He needed to be shown who was in charge of the situation. He grabbed Bartowski's shoulders and forced him to turn around.
"What the hell was that about, Bartowski? What's he going to handle for you?"
Chuck blinked in confusion, not understanding why Casey would get so worked up over a simple conversation. "He asked me what an NGA analyst was doing here with you guys. I told him I signed up for the National Guard, right after finishing my analyst training. My military occupational specialty was actually Explosive Ordnance Disposal, and I also attended a bunch of special workshops conducted by Major Chris Hunter. Since the NSA and CIA got the information about the bomb very late and there was no time to reach out to anyone else, you enlisted me as the resident bomb disposal technician. And I was bound by my duty as a member of the National Guard to help you out. Then I requested he tell Admiral Kernan not to make a huge fuss about it and lash out at you two for dragging me into all this."
Sarah beamed at him, a bemused smile on her face, whereas Casey's eyes had gone wide upon hearing the casual mention of one of the best bomb disposal experts to ever work for the British Army. However, he chalked it off to Bartowski gaining that knowledge from the Intersect. Besides, by being as unpredictable as he was creative, he should have been more surprised if he hadn't done anything like that in the first place. He was an annoyingly flexible character, after all.
"Moron, you can't go mouthing off whatever tickles your fancy to anybody and everybody you meet, especially a high-ranking military official like that."
"Relax, Major. I only told him that some very important details were redacted from my official records due to serious security concerns, and that if he wanted to know everything about me and my real occupation within the government, he would need a signed waiver from General Beckman, Director Graham and Admiral Kernan." Chuck sported a crooked grin, as they started leaving the hotel premises, moving towards the parking lot.
Sarah raised an eyebrow, asking out of curiosity, "Why the National Guard, though?"
All of a sudden, a wistful smile appeared on Chuck's face.
"Ah, that's where Captain Awesome comes in. My sister's boyfriend, Dr Devon Woodcomb, is a proud member of the National Guard. He even had a year-and-a-half-long stint in Afghanistan. So that was the first thing which came to mind. I needed to give the General some plausible reason for my involvement in tonight's drama. A GEOINT analyst isn't someone you're supposed to bring along to deal with a bomb threat, you know," he explained in a matter-of-fact manner.
Casey's eyebrows twitched in irritation. Bartowski clearly knew well enough not to compromise knowledge of the Intersect in any way. Unfortunately, the way he casually revealed all their bosses to Stanfield made sure they wouldn't be able to just grab him and put him in a safe house; there would be too many questions if he disappeared without a trace. Even if the NSA and CIA were to work together, they wouldn't be able to cover this up without taking the NGA fully into confidence. And it was pretty obvious whose side Kernan would take when the chips were down.
He just got outmaneuvered and outplayed by that brat!
"So what happens next?" Chuck inquired. "Any plans for launching a manhunt on our Serbian friend and the rest of the Wolf Pack? And what about that Demetrios dude? You can't let him get away with what he did!"
"You are trying to do too much, Chuck. You shouldn't." Sarah said softly.
"What should I do? Do nothing?" He whispered. "That's out of the question, Sarah. These people need to be stopped!"
"Don't worry. We will stop them."
"We?" Chuck asked, blinking in confusion.
"Yes. We. Just know I am here for you. Okay?" She smiled, patting his shoulders comfortingly, then she threw her arms around Chuck and hugged him. In response he rolled his eyes and smiled at the same time, then hugged her back. The warmth from her was both comforting and reassuring.
Perhaps having Sarah around won't be so bad. But is it okay for me to like her as more than a friend? I don't want the girl... the woman I like to know about all the mess I am going through. I want to be honest with her. In all honesty, I must. But can I really trust her to know everything...?
That was when his eyes bulged. He got the feeling she was enjoying the hug a bit too much for his taste, if the way she moaned was any indication. Her body rubbed against his so tightly that it seemed as though something embarrassing was about to happen.
Panicking, Chuck wanted it to stop before it did. "OK! OK! Sarah, I get it." He pushed her away as gently as he possibly could. But he had to admit that he enjoyed it.
"Just trying to lighten your mood." She winked with a playful smile.
Chuck couldn't help but blush. He also felt his adrenaline rising and his heart beat quicken.
Casey frowned, staring down both of them with a miffed expression. They were getting along a little too well. There was a reason Graham sent his best on this assignment. Walker knew how to twist even some of the most headstrong and unruly individuals and make them putty in her hands. Even a wildcard like Bartowski didn't stand a chance against her. Furthermore, they already had a past connection which she was clearly trying to exploit in order to lure him to the CIA. And he absolutely couldn't allow that!
"You have nerves of steel, Bartowski. Even I can't help but admire that quality about you. That said, you are clearly way out of your depth here. A big brain like yours belongs behind a desk in some nice office, somewhere safe and secure. You are enjoying the attention from people you clearly shouldn't get close to." He reprimanded Chuck as he threw a nasty glare towards Graham's personal attack dog, "Out here, people like you can easily be killed by the likes of Walker and I without a trace. So please, know your place out here in the real world. Stay out of situations like this in the future for your own safety. Or do you want me to make you?" He threatened as he took a step forward and Chuck took a step back out of sheer reflex. "I know ways to convince you."
"I can't let this go. Not after what I have seen and experienced throughout my entire life," Chuck said softly, not wanting to further anger him. "This is me. I will continue living like this. What else can I do?"
Sarah came up towards Casey. "Hey! Leave him alone. You don't know what kind of person he is or why he did what he did." She looked as if she wanted to tear his head off right there and then.
Instead of getting angry, he just emitted a short bark of laughter. Chuck couldn't help but feel bewildered at the sight.
"Those were some big words, kid. Make sure you keep that level of courage up, Chuck. Who knows? We might need you around to stop bigger things than this in future." Casey slapped Bartowski good-naturedly on the chest with the back of his hand, then turned to Sarah with a vague smile.
"Let's call our bosses and get all the details about our next step, sister!"
Sarah nodded in response, albeit a bit reluctantly. Now that Casey was on first-name basis with Chuck, she didn't have to worry too much about treading on dangerous ground. Not that she cared about the protocols as far as this particular assignment was concerned in the first place, anyways. "If it wasn't for Chuck's persistence, your actions in that parking lot would have led to at least one of our deaths. Can I really count on your cooperation in this assignment?"
"Well, you aren't exactly in a position to ask that question." Casey stepped forward, glaring down at Sarah, who stared back at him in defiance. "If Mr Bartowski wasn't the scary-mad brainiac that he is, Mauser's finding of you would have resulted in his death. That sort of incompetence is clearly more than enough to have you, if not your whole damn agency removed from this operation."
Sarah shrank a bit upon hearing how Chuck nearly died protecting her today. There was also a momentary flash of guilt and pain in her eyes, but it was quickly hidden behind her professional mask.
"I don't think I deserve to be punished or reprimanded for circumstances I had no control over, Major."
"Never mind. I still have unfinished business with the Wolf Pack. Besides, you took that scumbag out so I'm willing to let your incompetence slide and work with you for the time being. But I won't tolerate any attempts to double-cross me. And in case you have any plans of hurting Chuck in any way..." He trailed off menacingly.
Sarah huffed, responding to Casey's threat with her own. "And should you ever pull a gun on me or Chuck, you won't like the consequences. I can guarantee you that."
Chuck shook his head with a sigh, finding his position in both ultimatums baffling. He held both his hands up in placation. "Now now... We're all working for the greater good of American citizens, aren't we? I mean, comradeship and cooperation are the most important aspects of being a federal agent. We are beyond threats, aren't we? I realize we might not see eye to eye on all issues, and being friends with each other might be asking a bit too much from my side... So why don't we call a truce for now?"
Both seasoned spies considered the matter for a couple of moments, then sighed in frustration. Chuck's argument made sense, and not for the first time. Their analysts already made a huge error of judgment in not paying heed to his ambush warnings because they viewed him as an insignificant rookie; two colleagues sadly died as a result. Both of them served their country with pride and dignity, especially Nelson, the man who dragged Casey out of hostile territory when one of their recon missions went awry. Having suffered a broken spine, he only recovered after an extremely lengthy stay at Walter Reed Army Medical Center.
If only they listened to what the moron had to say...
Casey put down his SIG Sauer. The last thing he wanted was for Chuck to drop his neutrality and join with the infamous Ice Queen, just because he couldn't keep his temper and pride in check. If he could earn Bartowski's trust by at least pretending to be cordial with Graham's enforcer, then so be it. He had to think about the bigger picture right now. He couldn't let him fall into the clutches of the CIA.
I must convince him to join the NSA at all costs. We need people like him to make sure good men like Nelson and Williams don't continue to die in vain.
"Sorry for jumping to the wrong conclusion earlier, Agent Walker." He extended his hand with a forced smile.
Chuck smiled at Casey in gratitude, not really expecting his speech to work in a situation like this. He had no idea he could be that good.
Hmm, perhaps a nickname like Lieutenant Awesome... nah. 'Awesome' will always be Devon's epithet. I need a different moniker.
Chuck then smiled encouragingly towards Sarah; she turned towards him, still maintaining her usual aloof Agent Walker facade. But deep down, she was even more concerned seeing Casey making an attempt to play nice with them. That felt completely out of character and made it harder for her to predict his actions in the future.
"Do you have anything you'd like to add, Sarah?"
Nice act, Major! But I won't let you fool him that easily. You'll have to get through me first.
"Fine. A truce, then." Sarah said quietly, giving him a calculating gaze. She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, grabbed hold of Casey's extended hand and gave it a tentative shake. Her tight-lipped smile didn't reach her icy-cold blue eyes. Chuck could feel a dark sinister aura from the duo as they discussed their current mission. It seemed like they didn't even trust each other over mundane details – like who would drive him to the designated safe house. He sweated and laughed nervously, wondering if he'd survive the day with those two being responsible for his safety.
Still, considering the amount of emotional and psychological turmoil he'd been subjected to in his short life... If this was the worst he'd face after receiving the G-Intersect then perhaps everything wasn't as bad as he initially feared. Maybe there was some light at the end of the tunnel after all.
Or maybe it was the sign of an incoming train.
...xxxxxx...xxxxxx...xxxxxxx...
The news had spread across the country like wildfire.
The media was all over the incident, though the authorities didn't proclaim what really happened. Rumors about a bunch of dirty cops associated with terrorist activities, drug dealing and all sorts of criminal activities getting killed by a mysterious assailant had started circulating on the television.
A witness was giving a statement. While holding a microphone, she looked to the camera and pointed an accusatory finger, as if she was addressing the viewers. "I was too tired after a shopping trip and left my grocery bag inside the car. But when I returned, all of my supplies were nowhere to be found. Even the new and imported frying pan I bought got stolen by some lowlife. I demand justice. The thief who stole my groceries must be punished!"
CNN showed the highlights of the NATO event from the Washington Hilton. The footage showed a bunch of squad cars and fire lorries. Even paramedics were already on the scene tending to some of the bystanders.
A bar below the screen read FBI AND NATIONAL GUARD SAVES THE DAY?
A reporter was heard throughout the footage. "The questions still stand – who was the EOD expert and how did they manage to diffuse a bomb like that in less than five minutes?"
Theodore Roark was incensed beyond measure. Even knowing they were dealing with someone who gave Gaez so much trouble, he believed – incorrectly, it seemed – that Mauser would ultimately be successful. As the leader of FULCRUM, it was his job to keep tabs on all people of interest affiliated with the US government, and to eliminate individuals with problematic political and moral alignments if they were potential roadblocks. Such as, for example, a certain former allied commander of NATO who was poised to assume a very important position in the Department of Defense.
Roark didn't like small issues. He believed in nipping them in the bud before they bloomed.
According to his own analysis – ever since their major success with the next-gen tank plans, it had gotten a bit harder for FULCRUM operatives to move around as freely as they liked. Still, he had been somewhat happy with their short-lived moment of triumph.
However, learning that Mauser's team had been either eliminated, or apprehended and incarcerated in supermax prison really darkened his mood.
Certain members of the Wolf Pack – namely Mauser and Delgado – were the pioneers of his organization. They were a crucial part of all major FULCRUM operations, and each of them benefited from working together. To accomplish his goals, Roark needed people who were as driven and dedicated towards their cause as he was. Being a man of integrity and honor, he only liked to reward the most qualified and special members of his organization. The Wolf Pack had been a group unlike any other. They were even, dare he say it, as promising as the organization he himself ran.
Holding a newspaper in his hands, he crumpled it, then threw it away in disgust.
"Amelia Anderson..." Roark said the name with a bad taste in his mouth. "Who the hell does she think she is? She dares to challenge the might of FULCRUM, huh? Next time we get our hands on her, she will definitely meet a sticky end!" he sneered, raising his fist in mock triumph.
For the moment, he needed to focus on other pressing matters. Such as a certain Serbian bomber in whom FULCRUM had invested considerable time, money and resources – only for him to fail miserably at his designated task. It bothered him immensely, and was the reason he sat in his office collecting his thoughts and emotions. He tried to decide what approach he was going to use when Vincent came in.
He is going to have to come up with some answers and those answers better impress me!
He was certainly going to take his anger out on the man who enlisted such a useless, pathetic individual for this important task. The so-called unmatchable explosives expert couldn't even build a proper bomb for them.
His secretary buzzed on the speakerphone.
"Yes." Roark muttered.
"Mr Vincent Smith is here to see you."
"Send him in." He said quite apathetically. Roark sat in his seat and clasped his hands together.
Vincent Smith, a former Army Ranger with the rank of Second Lieutenant, was believed by the US government to have been killed in action in Khowst, Afghanistan. In reality, he led the FULCRUM team in search of Orion and was a senior figure in most other major operations. Upon walking in, he stood rather awkwardly in front of Roark's desk, looking quite nervous.
"I was under the impression Andric was a genius. Most EOD experts wouldn't even come close to understanding the design of his bomb, let alone defuse it. Care to explain how some nosy brat from the National Guard managed to accomplish the supposedly impossible?" Roark growled.
"Whoever it was must be an individual with a highly unorthodox mindset. Either that, or maybe it was just a fluke on their side..."
"Don't you dare make an ass out of me, Vincent!" Roark warned. "I want to hear things that are considered official and discernible! What do you know for sure?"
"Sir, we have our experts going through the code which was used to disable the trigger program," Vincent insisted. "But aside from that, we have no idea how he could have done that. Our best engineers spent hours working on this thing and someone managed to destroy it in little under five minutes. That feels quite disturbing."
"Here is the thing, Mr Smith. I am not a corporate titan at this moment. Right now, I am a mad titan!" He yelled and rose from his seat. "Stop dancing around the facts and tell me what really happened down there!"
"Our analysts suggest the hacking pattern and efficiency of this code matches that of a legendary individual from the past. One of the greatest black-hat hackers to ever exist. Someone who used to make a joke out of the FBI and Pentagon on a daily basis, yet they never came close to catching him. Not even once. However he suddenly disappeared one day, vanishing without a trace."
Roark slumped back in his chair. "Of course it was..." he muttered. After a while, he spoke again. "What exactly is this individual called?"
Vincent spoke quietly, clearing his throat. "He used to go by the moniker "Piranha"".
Roark narrowed his eyes. "How can you be so sure this Piranha is a man in the first place, Mr Smith?"
"We have surveillance footage of the entire thing happening, Sir." Vincent spoke, immediately handing an iPad to Roark. Taking it in his hands, Roark saw the camera footage that showed where the NATO celebratory event took place. He went over it and with his fingertips made the image bigger and zoomed in. The moment he did so, a particular young man with messy brown hair caught his eye.
"Hold on!" He cried.
On the screen, the familiar-looking brown-haired young man stepped near the armed bomb, whispering something to a middle-aged muscular man, most likely of a military background given how he moved and looked, commonly referred by his code name John Casey by his fellow NSA peers. He was also accompanied by the very same woman who all but single-handedly dismantled one of FULCRUM's most deadly units,and ruthlessly eliminated Mauser, their organization's most experienced and well-connected operative. However, he really wasn't paying her much heed.
No... No... It cannot be.
What truly made him incensed was seeing the young man working on the computer with a determined look on his face. Oh, he knew that look quite well. The man who had been a constant nuisance in his side for the longest time had that same annoying know-it-all look about him as well.
Roark let out a guttural roar slamming his fist on to the table.
"Motherfucker! Another goddamn Bartowski, of all people!" Roark seethed in fury.
"Sir! What is it? Who are you talking about?" Vincent asked in confusion as he stood by his side.
Before he could respond, something clicked. This guy was also the same man whose profile caught his attention in the algorithm search for the NGA engineer behind the Intersect decryption technology. What were the odds?
He recalled a conversation he had with Zarnow the other day, then reviewed the footage again.
"All we have is the security camera footage of John Casey escorting him from the conference room."
He wasn't absolutely sure yet, but he had a gut feeling. Charles Irving Bartowski was, quite possibly, the NGA engineer – and human Intersect – he was looking for.
...xxxxxxx...xxxxxxx...xxxxxxx...
Special thanks to my good friend Williegarvin, one of the nicest people I know in this fandom. Hope you update New Day more frequently in the future.
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