A/N: I continue to be overwhelmed by your positive feedback. Thank you for taking time to read my work, and for taking the time to comment. It really does mean a lot to me.
About our story...A number of reviews make it clear that there is a growing demand for the romance portion of the story to land. I promise you that its coming, and that romance will feature prominently in the story, but certainly not in a way aligned to canon, and perhaps not in a way that most of the stories I have read depict. Before we get to any romance, however, I want to make sure the story has adequate depth. We are almost there, building the anticipation, and I think its worth the wait...I hope you will agree.
As for the release schedule, I am expecting Chapter 6 to drop this coming Thursday, returning me to a more consistent, weekly schedule.
As always, a special thanks to Nevr for pre-reading and Beta-ing Chapter 5. By the way, the prolific Nevr just published a new story, "From Paris, with Love." Check it out, I think you will like it!
As for Chapter 5, If you enjoyed it, please let me know by "Reviewing," "Following," or "Favorite-ing." I love the interaction and make it a priority to respond to every review and private message.
I don't own Chuck, but would love for Diane Beckman and the NSA to tell me who does...
Chapter 5 – The Rise of Orion:
Thursday, 14 July 2011 - 11:00 Pacific Standard Time
Burbank, California – Bartowski residence
The small black device in Chuck's desk emitted a soft electronic trill announcing an incoming call. Chuck scrambled for the drawer, removing the communicator from its charging cradle, pushing the red button, and waiting for the green light to flash, confirming that the comm-link was secure.
"This is Piranha," he said in his best "serious" voice.
"This is Beckman. As requested, we put the pardon in a file on the server you specified. I presume everything is satisfactory?"
"Yes, thank you, General Beckman, everything is in order. How would you like to proceed?"
"If you tell me where you are, I'll arrange your transportation to a secure location so we can meet and work through the details of our arrangement. How soon can you be ready to leave for my location?"
"I'm located on the west coast and can be ready in 24 hours," replied Chuck.
"I'll send a plane. Which airport is closest to you?"
Chuck felt less and less comfortable with giving away his location, so he thought about something close enough to drive to but far enough away to be safe.
"San Diego," responded Chuck.
"Very well, Piranha. I will contact you again shortly with some additional information about your flight." And Beckman cut the line.
Chuck looked up at Morgan, who followed the conversation intently and let out a deep breath.
"It's happening, buddy," said Chuck with some resignation in his voice. "We are either on our way to do something potentially amazing, or they are going to stick me in a dark hole for the next 50 years….why don't we take the rest of the day off, drive to Santa Monica, check out our new offices one more time, and then go play video games on the pier?"
The gravity of the moment hit Morgan like a 2 by 4 across his forehead. All he could muster was a weak "Ok…Santa Monica…ok…."
Ninety minutes later, the boys were enjoying a competitive two-player game of "Asteroids" on the Santa Monica Pier arcade when the communicator sounded. Chuck ran outside to the quietest spot he could find and responded to the call.
"Piranha, a Cessna Citation X, will be waiting for you at Signature Aviation at the San Diego Airport at 9:30 am. The Aircraft's tail number is N-1010TS. The pilot will ask you if you are going fly fishing in Wyoming. Your response will be, "I hate fishing. I'm going elk hunting in Montana." Do not share any other information, personal or otherwise with anyone, including the flight crew. The less you say, the better. Once you arrive, you will be picked up directly on the tarmac and delivered to our meeting. We have arranged secure lodging for you at our location, and you should pack for a stay of no more than 3 days. Any questions?"
"No questions. Thank you," was all Chuck could muster as he clicked off the line.
"Morgan, I'm gonna need a ride to San Diego tomorrow, and I need to go home and pack." Chuck could see the concern in Morgan's face, so he added, "it'll be fine, Morgan. Besides, when I get back, I want to finish our game…..the call distracted me."
= ! =
Friday 15 July 2011 – 09:00 Pacific Standard Time
San Diego, California - San Diego International Airport - Signature Aviation
"Good morning," Chuck said to the Signature Aviation concierge desk receptionist. "I'd like to board my plane, please. It's the Citation X, tail number N-1010TS," Chuck said as he smiled.
A few moments later, a man in a crisp pilot's uniform came in from the tarmac and looked at Chuck.
"Good morning, sir. Are you going fly fishing in Wyoming?"
"I hate fishing. I'm going elk hunting in Montana," replied Chuck.
"Right, this way, sir."
= ! =
Friday 15 July 2011 – 19:30 Eastern Standard Time
Fort Meade, Maryland – NSA H.Q.
If one word captured the essence of the initial reaction of both Beckman and Chuck at their first meeting, it was "surprise."
Chuck stood 6'4" with broad shoulders, long arms and legs, and a pile of dark curls on top of his head. He had an easy smile, but his eyes were particularly expressive and kind. He was disarmingly good-looking. Beckman was expecting a pimply-faced, greasy-haired slacker-type persona, with baggie pants halfway down their ass, certainly not Chuck Bartowski. Conversely, Chuck was surprised by Beckman's diminutive physique compared to the size she projected. Her eyes conveyed a deep intelligence, and the lines in the corners of her eyes and mouth suggested she was also someone who liked to laugh…not something he expected from the Deputy Director of the NSA. This was going to be interesting, both people thought simultaneously.
"You must be hungry, Piranha," Beckman laughed at what she just said, drawing a smile from Chuck. "Shall we get something to eat while we talk?"
"Chuck. My name is Chuck. Chuck Bartowski. It's good to meet you, ma'am." Chuck extended his hand. "And yes, I would welcome something to eat."
Beckman picked up the phone and issued some orders, and within 15 minutes, a trolley arrived with a variety of sandwiches, salads, fruit, and a variety of drinks. The two ate and spoke, getting a feel for each other before diving into the more sensitive topics.
"Chuck" Beckman changed to a more formal tone signifying a transition in their discussion. "As promised, NSA is happy to sign a perpetual license agreement with you or whatever entity you decide, and pay the US$ 1.0 million annually you asked for. However, I suspect your services may be significantly more valuable, and we would be willing to pay more if you can deliver for us. I asked you to stay with us here for 3 days, so you can work on a little problem we are having with Iran. As you probably heard on the news, the Iranians are working on enriching uranium for their weapons program, and we need to not only understand how far along they are in their process, but we also need to think about what we can do to stop them or slow them down. I have set you up with a private office with all the technology we think you will need, but if you need anything else, just ask. That goes for food, laundry, etc. We also have a gym you can use. If you want to use the gym, please let me know, and I'll have it shut down for your use. This is important on many levels, so let's see how this goes before we put a number on the contract, shall we? Now…while you are here, do not disclose any personal information to anyone you come in contact with….no names, no small talk, nothing at all. No one will think you are rude. We are just very used to keeping secrets here, so the less small talk, the better. You will likely not see many people in this wing anyway, but you are free to move about as you wish. Finally, you must always wear this ID card around your neck…always… And please do not attempt to exit the facility as we don't want you to accidentally get shot. Does that sound fair?"
"I understand, and yes, ma'am, it does sound fair. If someone could show me my accommodations, I'd like to take a shower and then get started on the work. I'm 3 hours behind you and nowhere near ready for bed. And again, ma'am, thank you for your trust," Chuckadded.
'Well-mannered, intelligent, and charming….' Beckman thought to herself… 'This may work out better than I hoped.'
= ! =
Sunday, 17 July 2011 – 18:00 Eastern Standard Time
Fort Meade, Maryland – NSA H.Q.
Chuck worked tirelessly throughout the weekend and finally finished the various tasks he needed to complete. He picked up the phone and asked for a cheeseburger, fries, and a Mountain Dew and asked that Beckman be notified that he was done.
"What do you mean he's done?" asked Beckman in disbelief. "What exactly has he done in just 2 days?"
"I don't know, ma'am. He ordered a cheeseburger, fries, and a Mountain Dew and then casually mentioned he was done and to call you," said the voice on the phone.
"Thank you," said Beckman disconnecting the call. 'If this guy is playing me, he's not getting out of here alive,' she swore to herself as she stormed out of her office, marching towards the guest wing housing Chuck Bartowski.
Chuck was leaning back in his chair, with his feet on the desk and a giant cheeseburger hanging out of his mouth, when he saw Beckman standing there with a not too pleased look on her face.
"Ma'am," stuttered Chuck, accidentally dropping a pickle onto the floor. "Was not expecting you until tomorrow morning."
"I'm always here, Bartowski," growled Beckman.
Chuck could not quite understand why Beckman seemed so pissed off….Yes, it was Sunday, but she was already here, and she should have been happy the work was completed…
"What exactly have you completed, Bartowski? I set this up as a test of your abilities, but if you are jerking my chain, so help me..."
"General, I'm done. Please sit down and I'll gladly explain what I've accomplished and what I think we can do. Please…..Sit." Chuck spoke softly and kindly, temporarily putting out Beckman's fire.
"Very well, Bartowski. Proceed."
"Well, General, I found where they are keeping the data for their nuclear program. In fact, more than nuclear, it is the central repository for all their WMD programs. And there is a great deal of data there. I did not touch it, and they never detected my breach, so we can go back anytime we want and do whatever we want."
"Ok, so why did you not delete everything and send them back to the stone-age?" asked Beckman.
"Well, first, you did not tell me to take action. Second, if we do that, the Iranians will know they have been breached, and we have no way of knowing if they have a separate off-line storage system where they archive the data. Now we can be more thoughtful about how we can use an advantage they don't know we have," offered Chuck. "What I have done, though, is create a particularly nasty worm," Chuck said with pride in his voice. "I call it "Stuxnet," and it is awesome."
"I'm listening, Bartowski," prodded the General in a more amiable tone. "Tell me about this nasty worm you built and what it can do for us."
"The Iranians have reasonably good firewalls protecting their network and servers, but their printers are all Wi-Fi, and relatively unprotected. Through them, I can get to anything in their secure network to insert the Stuxnet worm. Stuxnet will target the systems that control the centrifuges used in the uranium enrichment process. By altering the calibration of the centrifuges, we can make them spin ever so slightly faster than they are supposed to. This will compromise their production, research and set their program back a couple of years at a minimum, and if we are lucky, it will take them a while to figure out why. And when they do, they can't trace it to us. And we still get to keep it secret that we know where all their data is. I've prepared a short report summarizing my findings on their WMD programs…and by the way, I am no expert on WMD's, so my conclusions may be laughable, but that is for you and the experts to decide… And, here you go." Chuck spun in his chair to hand Beckman a bound report that must have contained close to 100 pages of information. "And I can activate the worm whenever you are ready. Just give me the green light."
Beckman was seldom at a loss for words, but she just could not stop staring at Chuck with her mouth slightly agape. She quickly pulled herself together and stood up, paused for a moment, straightened her spine, and thanked Chuck for his excellent work.
"Impressive Chuck," her tone softened. "Tomorrow morning, I will brief the President on what you have accomplished here, and he will make the go or no go decision on the worm. In the meantime, I will have one of our senior analysts look over what you have done, just to make sure….. We can take care of the other details like your contracts and your emergency cover identity if everything checks out. Before I go, is there anything you need?"
"Thank you, General Beckman. If you don't mind, I would like to use the gym tomorrow morning. I've not really left this room for a couple of days, and I need a bit of movement. I don't want to inconvenience anyone, so I can go early, like 6:00 am if that is ok?"
"No problem Chuck. I'll make that happen. In the meantime, assuming we can close out all the remaining issues, I think we'll be able to get you on your way home by tomorrow afternoon."
Beckman walked out of the office, closed the door, leaned against the wall for a moment, and thought, 'is this guy for real?' She then pulled out her mobile phone and called John Walden.
"John, it's Diane. Get here immediately. You will not believe what I have in my hands." And she cut off the call. Roughly 90 minutes later, John Walden was sitting in Beckman's office, shaking his head.
"How did you get this? Is the CIA holding out on us? I mean, we suspected a lot of this stuff anecdotally, but holy shit…..if this is real, and it looks very real to me…holy shit…! Beckman smiled to herself. She was going to share this with POTUS tomorrow morning, and after that, the world was going to start changing….and she held the key.
= ! =
Monday 18 July 2011 - 06:00 Eastern Standard Time
Fort Meade, Maryland – NSA HQ
Sarah and Carina met in the lobby and headed to the gym for their usual Monday morning workout and some sparring. They entered the women's changing room, changed into their workout gear, and proceeded towards the entrance to the gym only to be met by a large man in a dark suit blocking the door.
"Sorry ladies, the gym is closed until 07:00," the large man said apologetically.
"Why? Someone is in there…I can hear them running on the treadmill" asked Carina.
The large man shrugged his shoulders but offered no further explanation. Carina was about to start an argument when Sarah stepped in and suggested they go for a run instead.
"Come on, Carina. It's gorgeous outside and still cool enough to put in a few miles. And I don't mind the fresh air. We can always spar at 7:00 when the VIP leaves the gym to the rest of us," she added with a chuckle, gently pushing Carina away from the large man. As they started to move away, Carina was able to see past the large man, through the window and into the gym. She stopped dead in her tracks. Sarah bumped into her and quickly followed Carina's line of sight past the large man and into the gym, where they saw the back of a man running fiercely on the treadmill. Both women unconsciously stared for a moment with their eyes and mouths agape at the sight. He was tall, lean, and well-muscled, but not like a bodybuilder, more like a swimmer. The muscles on his shoulders and his powerful thighs rippled with each stride. The sweat on his back sparkled, and he had the most magnificent patch of dark curly hair on top of his head, just long enough to grab hold of.
"Ladies, please move it along. I would not want to get any of us in trouble. Please come back after 7:00," the large man admonished.
"Oh my!" said Carina…."That was a delicious-looking piece of candy," she smirked to her partner. "I've been such a good girl and not had anything sweet in a while, and I think I would very much like to have a taste of that," she mumbled quietly.
"Slut…." Sarah said, causing Carina to stop and stare at her. Unfortunately, Sarah's brain had temporarily gone bye-bye, deciding to fix its focus on "Mr. Running Man" instead of her partner.
"Ha…." bounced back Carina. "Blondie, I know where your brain is right now….probably under that fine pile of man we just saw….. and if you prefer a cold shower to a run, I'll understand…." She laughed while pointing an accusatory finger at Sarah.
Sarah's brain was still partially on hiatus, and all she could manage was "Run… now…."
The women returned at 7:00 am disappointed to see that while the gym was open, "Mr. Running Man" was nowhere to be found.
XXX
At precisely 11:30 am, Chuck was shown into Beckman's office and handed a cold Mountain Dew by Beckman's assistant, Mary Larson.
"Good morning Chuck. I trust you had a good workout this morning?" Beckman asked with a smile and a friendly voice. "Please sit."
"Yes. Thank you, ma'am. It was good to get the blood pumping again. If I may ask, how did your meeting with the President go this morning?"
"It went very well, Chuck. Very well indeed. The President was more than impressed. He looks forward to our collaboration and expects great things to come from it. I hope you are as excited as I am about it. He also signed off on going forward with the Stuxnet worm immediately. We will need your help monitoring the progress the Iranians are making in their refinement process….and to make sure the worm is doing what it's supposed to do."
"Ok. I can initiate the process as soon as I get back the office," said Chuck with a courteous smile.
"Good. Then onto a couple of open issues, Chuck. Your contract has been approved, and given the quality of your work on the Iran issue, the perpetual license has been priced at $5.0 million per annum. I am not sure what the FBI and CIA will do, but if they give you any crap, please use your communicator to speak with the President directly. He has it installed in the Oval Office. As for the contract, all you need to tell me is if you want it in the name of Orion Cyber Security Systems or some another entity name, so we can complete the contract and add the company to our vendor files, and we can push the first year's payment through immediately."
Chuck was trying to process what Beckman just told him, but he was having trouble getting his brain and mouth to connect.
"Chuck?" intruded Beckman.
Ma'am. Apologies, I was just thinking. Yes….the contract will be with Orion Cyber Security Systems, but I see you already know all that. I can get you all the bank…."
"Chuck, we're the NSA. We just needed the name. We can easily access everything we need, so the payment will be processed today." She paused for a moment hardening her features. "Chuck….I also want to talk about safety…..your safety. While your identity will be a closely safeguarded secret, we always want to be prepared….just in case. For that purpose, I want you to take this "go bag". It's looks and works like a large and rectangular backpack, but is made with ballistic panels that will stop almost any caliber bullet from a handgun and a number of rifles. Inside this pack you will find a passport, driver's license, and several credit cards with appropriately flexible limits, all in the name of Charles Carmichael…These are only for use in emergency circumstances….and by emergency, I don't mean you are short of cash at Whataburger. Use them only cases of imminent danger and you need to disappear…..The cards are useful for purchases like plane tickets, car rentals, etc., things where paying in cash raises suspicion. If you need to hide, spend modestly. Big spenders are always more visible…..and please, always keep the receipts. We don't quibble about a couple of hundred thousand here or there, but our accountants are absolutely terrifying. For more traditional expenses, use cash. In the bag you will also find approximately US$ 50,000 in cash, broken up in Dollars, Euros, Swiss Francs, and British Pounds. Cash is always less traceable and the preferred way to pay for things when you are on the run.
You will also find a file with your cover life story. Memorize it. It needs to be second nature." Beckman took another pause to make sure Chuck was carefully following the seriousness of her message. "Also, given that we expect you to be here more or less on a monthly basis, we are setting you up with a small rented apartment near Baltimore, and a car appropriate for someone in your line of work. Those will appear as Orion Cyber Security Systems corporate leases to the outside world.
Finally, here is a mobile phone linked to your cover. It's one of our encrypted phones, so while it may not be as sophisticated as your devices, it is very much fit for purpose and will not draw any unwanted attention from other geeks looking at the hardware you use. The file also details our emergency procedures. In the event of an emergency, the trigger word is "PINEAPPLE" If you receive the "PINEAPPLE" message, you grab your go bag and you run to a safe place. Drop all personal electronics, activate your cover immediately, and check in with us when you are safe. You can also trigger the codeword if you find yourself in a dangerous situation. Same rules apply….it's all covered in the file. The next time you are here, you will be able to stay in the apartment use the car as you see fit. As far as our engagement on special projects, you should expect to hear from me more or less once a month, but more frequently if things come up. When things do come up, we will send the plane. Any questions?"
"No Ma'am. And again. Thank you. For everything," said Chuck with genuine appreciation in his voice.
"Good. Go get the worm installed, and then we are done. Once you are ready to go, let Mary know and she will see that you are escorted to the car and then to the plane. Have a safe trip back to Burbank." Beckman winked.
'Burbank….of course she knows. She's the NSA. They know everything…' thought Chuck, which was both amazing and yet terrifying.
= ! =
Monday 18 July 2011 - 15:00 Eastern Standard Time
Fort Meade, Maryland – NSA HQ – Director Merriweather's Office
"It's a compelling pitch Diane, but please explain to me why we can't just take two people from Casey's Direct Actions team to act as security for Mr. Bartowski. More specifically why you want me to ask the Director of the CIA to hand over Agent Walker and the Director of the DEA to hand over Agent Miller? I understand both are tagged as high potential in their respective agencies." Director Merriweather looked intensely at Diane Beckman, who stood her ground with her mentor.
"Scott, Casey's grunts stick out like sore thumbs. It would be obvious that they are protecting him and as a result make him more obvious. With Bartowski, I want to take a more subtle approach, and these two ladies were the ones that, as a team, had the most innovative approach that showed the greatest potential on the task force. They are not only able to provide the protection, but building covers for these two will be significantly easier." She pursed her lips before continuing. "Besides, both formally requested a transfer. And you know darned well that if either showed up on our doorstep looking for a job, with their credentials, we would snatch them both up right away."
Merriweather tented his fingers in front of his face in thought. "So why not tell them to resign and apply here?" Merriweather inquired with a raised eyebrow.
"With all due respect, Scott, I'd rather go through channels to avoid pissing anyone off. Besides, I want something more than just the two women." Diane grinned.
"Ah….there it is…" Merriweather's smile widened. "What is it you want, Diane?"
"I want their records completely redacted from their respective agencies, DNI level clearance only." Diane Beckman's face hardened as she pushed her ask. "I want to make this happen, Scott, and if I'm right, Bartowski could be the most valuable weapon we have in the traditional and cyber battlegrounds of tomorrow. You have been fully briefed and you know this guy did something our top analysts still think is impossible….And he did Iran over a God-damned weekend. I want to really keep him and the work done for the NSA isolated from anyone else. This means really limiting the number of people who are close to him, even fewer of which would know what he actually does."
Merriweather waited for a beat before speaking. "So you are saying even his protective detail would not know what he does? How do you explain their assignment? What would be their reporting line?"
"We will make the highly sensitive work Bartowski does as a security contractor transparent, and the Piranha hacks will make the need to have someone like him protected be both logical and defensible, but they will not be read into the special project work he does for us. That will be limited to you, me, John Walden, the DNI, and the President. It has to be this way, Scott. As for reporting line, the two women will report directly to me." Diane leaned back and relaxed her posture, but not her facial expression or the laser-like focus of her eyes.
"Ok, Diane. I'll speak with Alex Albright as soon as possible and put this in the works." Merriweather stood to signal the end of the meeting. "Diane…I hope you are right, because this is going to cost us something."
"Thank you, Scott, you have my assurance this will be a good deal for us over the long term." Diane smiled and left the Director's office.
XXX
Director Merriweather's secretary's voice came over the speaker. "Director, I have DNI Albright on the line for you, Sir."
"Thank you, Nancy." Merriweather picked up the phone and pushed the flashing button.
"Alex, thank you for taking my call," Merriweather spoke smoothly. "How are Alice and the kids?"
"Everyone is good, Scott. Thanks for asking. I take it this is not a social call though…" Albright moved to the purpose of the call quickly.
"No Alex. It's not. I have a favor that might ruffle a couple of feathers and need your help."
"Ok, Scott…..tell me what you need," Albright responded then paused.
"When we created the Piranha task force, we were seconded Agent Sarah Walker from the CIA, and Agent Carina Miller from the DEA. Both have made outstating contributions to the task force, and both have formally requested a transfer to the NSA to continue their work in the cyber-crime area. Diane Beckman has a special assignment for them, but wanted to play this very openly and fairly to avoid any interagency blow back, so I would like your help in having both women transferred to the NSA. As a part of that process, given what Diane wants to do with the two agents, she wants their respective records completely redacted for their respective agencies, and accessible only to the DNI." Merriweather paused as an uncomfortable silence hung in the air.
"Scott, you know I hold Diane in the highest esteem and trust her implicitly, but what she is asking for is highly irregular, and it is something I would need to order not ask of the CIA and the DEA." Albright's tone was firm, but indicated interest, curiosity.
"Alex, you are aware that Charles…Chuck Bartowski has done some remarkable..." Merriweather was suddenly interrupted by Albright.
"You want them for Bartowski…." There was very brief pause, causing Merriweather concern when Albright surprised him. "Done….The orders will be dispatched tomorrow, but it will take a few days for the redaction and cleanup of the employment files, etc. I'll let you know when it's complete. Anything else?"
Merriweather was momentarily stunned by the speed with which DNI Albright agreed, and did so with no provisos, no IOU's, nothing…which was exceptionally unusual. Not that this would have been a very difficult task for the DNI, but one of the job's most difficult responsibilities was keeping peace and harmony across the various agencies that reported to him, and those that didn't, and moving high potential employees like this was bound to cause some ripples….and all he did was mention Bartowski's name. He would need to ask about that another day. Right now, General Scott Merriweather was going to say thank you, and let his protégé, Diane Beckman know that she got what she wanted. "Thank you, Alex. I very much appreciate that. It's all I needed," Merriweather responded.
"You are welcome, Scott, and give Diane my best. Speak soon." And he cut the line.
= ! =
Wednesday, 1 August 2011 - 08:00 Eastern Standard Time
Fort Meade, Maryland – NSA HQ
"Good morning, Agent Walker, Agent Miller," Mary Larson welcomed the two women as they approached from the secure elevator. "The General will be with you shortly."
"Good morning, Mary. And please call me Sarah," Sarah responded to the greeting cheerfully as Carina added "Yes, Hi, Mary. And please feel free to call me Carina.'
"Thank you, Sarah, Carina. It's good to see you both again. After the Task Force wound down, I thought you would have gone back to your respective Agencies." Mary was pleasantly making small talk, already knowing why the two were still in the NSA building and why they had been summoned to Beckman's office. "What have you been up to?"
"Mary," Sarah cocked an eyebrow. "We both know that you probably know more about everything that is happening in and around this building, except perhaps General Beckman. So you know that since we were last up here, General Beckman asked us to continue developing the work on our report from the Piranha task force. Maybe we should ask you why we are here this morning at 8:00 am?"
Mary offered a sly smile as a green light brightened on her console. "Well, Sarah, Carina, I'm sure General Beckman will tell you exactly why she asked you here. This way please." Mary stood and led the two to the door and guided them in before closing the door and returning to her desk.
"Ladies, welcome to the NSA" Diane Beckman smiled as she greeted the two women. "And congratulations. I have an incredibly important mission for the two of you, which I will detail to you at a later date. I will only tell you that it involves protecting something of vital importance to national security. In the meantime, I want you to know that I have had all your personnel files redacted at both the CIA and the DEA, so no one without DNI level clearance can get to your past with those agencies. Your prior personal records remain unaffected. The details of your assignment are still being finalized, and I expect to be in a position to read you in and provide you with a full mission dossier in due course, but for now, I wanted to let you know about your status change and to ask you to continue the important work you are doing with Assistant Deputy Director Walden. Any questions?"
"No, ma'am" Sarah and Carina responded in unison. "Thank you, ma'am." Again the two responded in perfect unison causing Beckman to smile.
"Excellent. Welcome aboard then. Mary has your employment contracts and all the rest of the details waiting for you outside." Beckman's smile remained as the two women stood and left her office.
As Sarah and Carina walked out of Beckman's office, they closed the door behind them and gave each other a high-five. The impromptu celebration was interrupted by Mary Larson. "Sarah, Carina, welcome to the NSA…I'm so glad to have the two of you joining us." She then handed each a shiny new leather wallet bearing their new NSA identification. "As the General discussed, here are your employment contracts. Please review and sign. If you have any questions, please let me know and I will get one of the HR people to help, but basically, we ported all your previous contract details, pay, benefits, etc., into the new contracts, so there should be nothing in there that surprises you." Mary handed each a folder marker "TOP SECRET" and then handed each a large envelope. "In the envelope you will find your required orientation tasks along with a schedule. You are both required to re-qualify on the shooting range…sorry policy." Mary smiled and turned back to her desk. "Again, ladies, welcome."
Holding their folders and new credentials, Sarah and Carina went to the canteen, grabbed some coffee and found a quiet corner to talk.
"Ok…I'm not sure what we've gotten ourselves into, but I am unbelievably excited." Carina spoke quietly, but with excitement in her voice, while Sarah remained quiet….pensive. "Sarah…what? Say something…" Carina pushed.
"Sorry Carina….Yes…Exciting…" Sarah's voice trailed off.
"Come on Sarah…What is going on in that big, complicated head of yours?" Carina demanded.
"Well, I don't get the redaction of our records. I don't know about the DEA, but at the CIA internal company records are highly classified, but redacted? And accessible only to DNI level clearance? I'm sure it happens, but I have never actually heard about such a thing. So yes, while I am excited, what we are going to be doing is either incredibly dangerous, or so secret, that Beckman does not want anyone to know what we are involved with. Either way, it's a feeling like a big deal, which is great. And I have a feeling this will put us on a completely different trajectory….I just don't like not having all the pieces visible…." Sarah smiled but Carina could see Sarah struggling with the weight of what was coming their way and the accompanying lack of clarity.
"Sarah, I'm sure we will have all the pieces when we get the dossier, so let's focus on our work with Walden, and worry about the assignment when Beckman is ready to read us in….ok?" Carina gave Sarah a gentle punch on the shoulder. "OK Sarah…..?"
"Yeah…yes…you are right, ok. Thanks Carina….." Sarah's smile finally widened and reached her eyes. 'A change of trajectory isn't necessarily a bad thing' she thought to herself.
Her thoughts would be proved right.