A/N: To all of you who have been following, favorite-ing, and reviewing, you have my heartfelt gratitude. It is wonderful to know that my work is giving people a little escape from real life, and hopefully a laugh or two. If you have not done so, consider following/favorite-ing and/or reviewing, but if not, no stress. I thank you regardless for letting me into your lives a little through the story.
Nevr has pre-read and Beta's this chapter, for which I continue to be eternally grateful.
I don't own Chuck or make any money from writing this story. I have no idea who does, but when I find out, just you wait and see…!
Chapter 14 – The Rise of Fulcrum:
Tuesday, 21 February 2012 – 09:00 Pacific Standard Time
Culiacan, Mexico – Compound of Ramon Salazaar – Head of Culiacan Cartel
Decker stepped out of the armored SUV and made his way towards the front door of the sprawling hacienda. He was dressed casually, but there was nothing casual about the meeting he was about to have with Ramon Salazaar. Salazaar was the head of the Culiacan Cartel, one of the largest and most violent cartels south of the U.S. border. Culiacan specialized in drug, human, weapons trafficking, kidnapping, extortion, and murder for hire, amongst other things. Their reach extended across North and South America, and they were steadily expanding into Europe.
Salazaar had been growing increasingly frustrated with America's war on drugs, costing him resources and money. Lots and lots of money. Entire shipments were lost or destroyed, including countless boats, planes, and even a submarine. These distractions also emboldened his competitors, who seized any opportunity to satisfy demand when Culiacan's shipments were intercepted. Salazaar could not tolerate these constant frustrations, and the Fulcrum project was his plan to change the tide in his favor for the long term. The first part was relatively easy, ply the corrupt politicians with money, drugs, women, boys, or whatever their cravings required. All the illicit interactions were recorded for leverage, and where the target was too pure to play, Salazaar was not beyond having family members beaten, kidnapped, raped, or even mutilated. One way or another, Salazaar was going to get what he wanted. The problem was that elected officials came and went, so he needed to infiltrate the deep state. He needed to get his hooks into the bureaucrats that actually made the government engines turn. He needed access to and a way to control the intelligence and law enforcement infrastructures to protect his interests and use those tools to force compliance with his will, while crushing his competition. It was a bold plan, but Salazaar saw himself as untouchable. No one in Mexico would dare move against him without immediate and outsized retribution, which generally extended well beyond the specific judge, elected official, military, or police officer who acted against his interests to include their family and friends.
Decker was a corrupt, murderous psychopath, but he was exceptionally good at his job, something Salazaar greatly valued. He had proven his skill, eliminating the Directors of the CIA and the NSA within a week of each other. And without raising suspicion of foul play. Salazaar had more senior people in his pocket, people like Langston Graham, but these people were dangerous snakes who would not hesitate to turn under the right circumstances. He kept people like Decker to keep an eye on the ambitious and untrustworthy assets he was accumulating.
Before he was permitted to get near the Boss, Decker was thoroughly frisked by Salazaar's personal security detail. After all, while Decker was valued, even esteemed, trusting him was an entirely different matter.
Salazaar was sitting on a couch in his office, smoking a rare pre-revolution Costa Gravas double corona and appraising Decker as he approached.
"Senor Salazaar," Decker said deferentially.
"Sit down, Decker," Salazaar said with a flat expression in his thick Latin American accent. "Let me tell you why you are here…..I am pleased with how you eliminated those two troublesome individuals last November. And while we were successful in positioning Graham as Director of the CIA, things did not go as we wanted with the NSA. So I see an opportunity to remedy the situation with additional benefits. This is what I want, Decker." He paused to consider the orders he was about to give Decker and then committed himself to move the Fulcrum project ahead.
"One…I want that red-headed bitch running the NSA removed. I don't care what you do, but I want her gone. She's only been in the chair for a short time, but she is already a bigger pain in the ass than her old Boss."
"Two, you will speak with that idiotic Senator Byrne about positioning General Stanfield for the role at the NSA. Stanfield has been resistant to our softer approaches, but we will do something more decisive to make sure he plays ball."
"Three, I want the damned Orion security system cracked so we can get into the NSA, the FBI, and those fuckers at the DEA, and if you can't get it cracked, then you get me the guy who invented the fucking thing. I don't care how you do it."
"All three steps must be discrete. There will soon come the point where even with your skill, people will start to see these events as related. We need to be in a position to handle the fallout from inside before anyone connects the dots."
Decker sat quietly, letting Salazaar outline his vision, digesting the magnitude of the orders he had just been given. Decker was a pragmatic person, and he knew that working for the likes of Salazaar came with many risks, but he was being well-compensated, and with his knowledge and skills, if he needed to disappear, he would be very hard to find. Salazar did not know that Decker had been lining his pockets with cash from some of Salazaar's competitors by leaking information on shipments that were being intercepted. And he had prepared a comprehensive backstory pointing the finger at Augusto Milan, Salazaar's point person in the U.S. If it all went wrong, Decker would disappear from the radar of U.S. intelligence and law enforcement organizations. At the same time, Salazaar would focus his anger on Milan.
"Senior Salazaar, taking care of Beckman is difficult, but not impossible. However, to avoid repeating what already happened, we need Stanfield to have the full support of certain key Senators, not just our own, and that will take some time to prepare. I will speak to Senator Byrne as soon as I am back in Washington." Decker paused for dramatic effect. "As for the Orion system, I knew through Langston Graham that Beckman was working with Mossad to find and kill the Piranha, but since no one knew who the Piranha really was, I had Graham tell the Mossad that the Piranha was caught up in their raid in Germany, and planted Laszlo Mahnovfki's name as a CIA top computer expert who had gone rogue. As you know, Shaw has set him up in one of our sites in Virginia, and he has been preparing to breach Orion's network to get what we need. With Manhovski 'officially dead,' we have more room to maneuver. If that plan fails, I'll instruct Shaw to have Mahnovski leave a digital trail that leads to Chuck Bartowski, the CEO of Orion, incriminating him as the Piranha. My team will take him into custody. During his apprehension, the reports will say he was killed attempting to avoid capture, while we actually put him in the same site as Mahnovski and force him to work for us." Decker stopped to appreciate the sinister grin appearing on Salazaar's face, but of course, neither man had any idea that Chuck Bartowski was actually the Piranha.
"You, Mr. Decker, are a thoughtful and creative bastard…..my compliments to you and your devious mind. What do you need to make this happen?" asked Salazaar, who had a twinkle in his eye as he could see the plan unfolding.
"For Beckman, I want to use the same party I used on Merriweather and Brennan to ensure that this does not come back to either of us. A third hit of this magnitude will cost substantially more. I think US$ 5 million should do it. As for pushing Byrne and getting Mahnovski to implicate Bartowski, we have all we need to make that happen, but for all three, the timing needs to be just right, or it will be impossible to avoid raising flags."
"Excellent, Mr. Decker…Augusto will have the funds you require in Miami." Salazaar gave Decker a grin, then pushed a button on the phone next to him. He was putting his cigar out to signal the end of the meeting when the doors opened, and two girls in bikinis and high heels entered the office. "You will excuse me now, as I have other business to attend to. Felix will take you back to the jet." Decker nodded and got up to leave as the two girls sat on each side of Senor Salazaar.
45 minutes later, Salazaar's SUV was waived through the airport security gate and drove across the tarmac to his gleaming Gulfstream G-5. Decker had arrangements to make, but those would need to wait until he could speak freely, and Senor Salazaar's car or his plane would not give him the privacy he needed. Decker exited the vehicle, but he gave the pilot a hand signal that he would be a minute before boarding. He pulled out his phone and walked towards the Auxiliary Power Unit, providing electrical power to the aircraft before its engines were turned on. The APU was a small turbine engine that powered a generator as an external power source. It was plenty loud, so any eavesdropping would be impossible. He dialed a number in Germany to secure the services of the most prolific freelance assassin for hire.
"I'm listening," Rafe Gruber answered the phone in his thick German accent.
"Fulcrum project," replied Decker, and he cut the line.
Decker had a well-established arrangement with Gruber driven by code words by this time. Fulcrum project meant that he would need to be at Decker's safe house in Bethesda, Maryland, in 72 hours, and the contract was for a pre-agreed price of US$ 2.5 million.
Decker then boarded the jet and called Augusto Milan, expecting the call to be monitored by Salazaar.
"Who the hell is calling me on this number?" Augusto Milan answered brusquely.
"Augusto, this is your friend from Washington. I'm sure the Boss called you about getting me some cash to cover some consulting expenses. I will be landing in Miami at about 19:00 local time and will need to pick up the cash before heading north," Decker responded.
"I'll be there," Milan said gruffly as he hung up the call and pushed one of his bimbos off of him so he could get to the bank and arrange the withdrawal.
Ten minutes later, Decker heard the landing gear folding up into their recesses as the plane rocketed towards its 39,000-foot cruising altitude on its way to Miami.
= ! =
Tuesday, 21 February 2012 – 14:00 Eastern Standard Time
Miami, Florida – Miami Branch of the International Development Bank
"Senor Milan, so good to see you again, sir. How can we be of service?" gushed the oily branch manager, with his slicked-back hair, $3,000 suit, and gold Rolex on his wrist.
"I'm here to make a cash withdrawal," responded Milan without any pleasantness in his voice. He then handed the branch manager a slip of paper with the account number, the amount required. "I also need the cash to be put onto some luggage for transport….How long will this take?"
"Senior Milan, the amount is quite large and….." the branch manager was interrupted by Milan.
"I will be back in two hours….make sure it's ready for me. Milan shot back as he turned and left, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
"Jefe….the money is being prepared, but I want you to know that I don't trust that fucking gringo. $5 million for a fucking hit? I can get my guys to do it for free, particularly if it's a public figure. I think he is fucking us, Jefe." Milan spoke quietly.
"Augusto, my friend, two things for you to understand. One….I don't trust the gringo either, but he is very good at what he does, so as long as he adds value, he stays alive. The day that stops, you can kill him. And, two….we are not paying $5 million for a hit. We are paying $5 million to keep it completely away from us. Things are going to start moving more quickly, so just get it done." Salazaar hung up.
XXX
"Mr. Decker, what can I do for the CIA today," said Senator Byrne on his burner phone.
"2:00 pm tomorrow, the usual spot," and Decker clicked off the line. He closed his eyes and allowed himself a few hours of shut-eye before arriving in Miami.
= ! =
Wednesday, 22 February 2012 – 06:00 Eastern Standard Time
Villages of Dorchester, Maryland - The Hotel at Arundel Preserve
Carina Miller was awakened by the trill of her secure communicator. She cursed the hour, rolling over to respond.
"Miller secure"
"Beckman secure…..we have a potential problem. Casey will be there to pick you up in 20 minutes. Pack heavy, and grab Grimes. Do not explain anything to him beyond a possible threat against Orion," and she cut the line.
Carina scrambled to get her clothes on, grabbed her black duffel bag, and made her way up to Morgan's room on the floor above her. She was dressed, loaded for bear, and knocking on his door in less than five minutes.
"Morgan, it's Carina. Let me in. It's important…" no answer. Again, she banged once more, a little louder this time, again with no response.
'Fuck, I don't have time for this,' she thought as she reached into her pocket and pulled out her lock picking tools. Within 60 seconds, the door was opened, and Carina slipped inside with her duffle bag slung over her shoulder. The suite was dark, but a strange moaning sound came from the bedroom. She drew her Glock and carefully approached Morgan's bedroom, opening the door carefully, listening to the sound….it wasn't moaning, it was the sound whales make….a white noise generator was playing whale-song She snapped on the lights, and was not quite prepared for what she saw.
"Morgan….get up, something has happened, and we need to move right now," Carina urged while shaking him awake.
"Carina….what are you doing here? You are a beautiful woman, but we work together and….wait…how did you get in here…and why do you have a gun…?" Morgan stammered, trying to understand why the red-headed stunner was standing over him, in his room, at this crazy hour, with a gun in her hand.
"No time to talk, Morgan, there has been a credible threat made against you and Chuck, and Casey is on his way to get us in"…..she looked at her watch….. "12 minutes. Get dressed. We have to move…now…." She spoke with a commanding voice and a posture that screamed authority, yet there was something in her eyes he could not quite understand. He was terrified of her and yet wildly attracted to her.
"Now, Morgan….!" She barked as she turned and let him have a moment to get dressed in private.
With Morgan dressed and ready to go, she gave him some instructions. "Morgan, when we leave this room, you stay right behind me. If I tell you to do something, you do what I say…immediately. Do you understand?" She was calm but firm in her tone. "We will head to the lobby but will not exit the building until I say so…Clear?"
"Yes," Morgan replied, and they were out the door and heading for the elevators as Casey was rapidly approaching the hotel.
= ! =
Wednesday, 22 February 2012 – 06:00 Eastern Standard Time
Linthicum Heights, Maryland – Chuck Bartowski Residence
Sarah and Chuck were snuggled in bed, luxuriating in the warmth the comforter gave their naked bodies. They arrived from New York late the night before and collapsed into bed well past midnight, too tired to make love. Sarah had just awakened and found herself in her favorite position with her head on Chuck's shoulder, her body tucked under Chuck's arm, and her left leg thrown over his.
"Chuu-uuk," she spoke softly with a pouty voice as her she ran her hand across Chuck's chest lightly. "Are you awake?"
Chuck stirred and gave a slight grumble.
"Chuu-uuk…don't you love me anymore?...Don't you want me?" she cooed into his ear as she moved her hand further down his torso to his abdomen.
"Sarah, I love you, and I want you….in 15 minutes…please," he pleaded.
Sarah bounced up on her knees and spun herself around so she could shake her behind at Chuck. "Chuu-uuk…in 15 minutes, this ass will be out of bed, and you will have missed it." She smiled over her shoulder seductively.
Chuck's eyes opened to see this blonde goddess wiggling her ass at him and begging him to take her. He was so tired, but he also knew she was his absolute kryptonite, and while he should put up some respectable resistance, his fate was already sealed.
"Woman!" he said in a mock angry voice as he gave her left butt cheek a spank. "I need sleep."
"Ooohhh," Sarah exclaimed softly as she spun back around to face Chuck and straddled him, nuzzling up to his ear.
"Was I being a naughty girl….Chuck?" She popped the "k" as her warm breath caused Chuck's skin to raise some goosebumps as well as other parts of his anatomy. "Do you like it when I am naughty, Chuck?" Sarah started to lick and nibble her way from his earlobe, down his neck, and across his chest, pausing momentarily to look up at him through her eyelashes. "Are you going to spank me if I'm a naughty girl?" she asked with a devilish spark in her eye.
At this point, Chuck was unable to speak. Sarah was always beautiful and sexy, but her naughty playfulness was new and signaled their relationship entered a new level of intimacy and trust. He thanked the Gods for his impossibly good fortune, closed his eyes, and let go a soft moan that signaled his complete surrender to Sarah's desires.
She read his surrender and smiled seductively before she slowly lowered her body down his torso, pulling down the comforter, while her tongue and lips continued to tease him on their way down. The cool air on his exposed skin, in contrast to the warmth of her breath and her hands on his body, caused him to shiver as she moved closer and closer to his arousal. Chuck's breath hitched, and his body tensed in anticipation….then the soft electronic trill of his communicator sounded.
"Son of a bitch!" Sarah cursed as she glared at the device that interrupted her morning plans. This better be fucking important, or I am going to kill somebody. "Chuck….Chuck…it's your fucking Bat-phone…Chuck!"
Chuck's eyes opened, the disappointment on his face clearly visible as he looked at Sarah, who was still straddling his legs but had stopped teasing him.
He gathered his wits and reached for the device.
"Bartowski secure," he huffed into the device.
"Beckman secure. Chuck, we have a situation. Casey is collecting Carina and Grimes and will be picking you up in one of our SUVs in approximately 30 minutes. Tell Agent Walker to pack heavy for the transit," and Beckman cut the line.
Chuck threw the device over to the unoccupied part of the bed, then reached down to Sarah to pull her up to him.
"Sarah, something is up, and we are being picked up by Casey and Carina in approximately 30 minutes. I am so sorry. I promise I will make this up to you," he said as he looked lovingly into her eyes. "And Beckman said for you to pack heavy for the transit."
As Sarah heard Chuck's words, she instantly snapped into agent mode…..The call at the early hour was obviously troubling, but being instructed to wait for pick up instead of driving themselves and traveling heavily armed had her completely re-focused. Chuck grabbed her as she started to move, pulled her to him, and rolled her over so that he pinned her under him. He stared into impossibly blue eyes.
"Sarah, words cannot adequately convey how much I love you and how badly I want you right now. I am the luckiest man in the world." He very slowly and gently moved his lips to hers and kissed her with as much pure emotion as he was capable of. Sarah wrapped her arms and legs around him, pulling him into a tight and passionate embrace.
"Don't stop, Chuck….don't you ever stop, because I won't," she whispered in his ear when they broke the kiss, savoring the intensely intimate and emotional connection for a just moment.
"But right now, we gotta move, Chuck. Beckman does not scare easy, so for her to reach out like this means something is seriously wrong." Sarah put her game face on and was happy to see that Chuck was also transforming himself and preparing for whatever might be coming their way.
XXX
"Casey, Carina…..do you guys know what's up?" Chuck asked as he climbed into the Suburban with Sarah pushing him from behind. He then noticed that both Casey and Carina had their H&K MP5's on their laps, with the muzzles pointing towards the outside, each with 30 round clips attached. Sarah also has her MP-5 concealed under her coat, making Chuck feel under-armed with his Sig Sauer P229 named Sarah, holstered in the small of his back. "Where is Morgan? We can't leave…."
"I'm here, Chuck," Morgan answered from the third-row seats of the SUV with a worried look on his face.
"Hey, partner, I'm so glad to see you," Chuck replied. "Casey, what do we know?"
"Apparently, Echelon picked up some noise on Fulcrum, and Beckman has raised the threat level. I'm guessing there is more to it, but we will need to wait until we get to Fort Meade," Casey responded.
"Chuck…..please tell me what is happening….I was sleeping comfortably; the next thing I know is that our senior investigator has somehow gotten into my room and is standing over me with a gun in her hand telling me to get dressed, and I'm a little freaked out now…."
"Oh no…." Chuck had intended to keep that comment to himself, but it just slipped out in the moment. Morgan was notorious for always sleeping naked, and Chuck wondered what exactly Carina saw.
Morgan understood Chuck's slip. "…No, no, no, it's all good Chuck, I was covered up in my sheet so…."
In the front of the SUV, Carina grinned while Sarah gave Chuck an inquisitive look. He leaned onto Sarah to give her a kiss on the cheek and whispered, "Morgan has this thing where he always sleeps naked, no matter where he is, so I was hoping Carina did not get an eyeful."
Sarah smiled to herself. She was going to have to give Carina some shit about this later….
= ! =
Wednesday, 22 February 2012 – 07:00 Eastern Standard Time
Fort Meade Maryland – NSA HQ
The suburban was waved through the security gate, and Chuck's I.D. card gave them access to the secure parking and the secure elevator. At this point, Morgan was completely freaked out. Whenever he visited his client, the NSA, he went to reception, went through the I.D. and security checks, and was escorted to a meeting on the ground floor. Now, his partner Chuck seemed to have the keys to the whole building.
"Breathe, Morgan." Chuck smiled at his partner. "Everything is fine, and I will explain everything, ok? You just need to breathe…..and trust me."
The elevator doors opened on the secure floor, and without anyone speaking, they followed Chuck into his office and took a seat, waiting to be called.
"Chuck…is this your office? Why do you have an office here, Chuck?" asked Morgan nervously. "You never mentioned that you have…."
The phone on Chuck's desk buzzed. "Good morning Mr. Bartowski. The Director would like to speak with you alone for a moment before the rest of the team is brought in."
"Thank you, Mary…I'll be right there."
Chuck stood up, gave his friend a warm smile, and walked out of his office, closing the door behind him.
Morgan looked at Carina, Sarah and Casey. "Who is that guy, and what have you guys done with my partner?"