Fear hangs in a plane of gun smoke

Drifting in our room

So easy to disturb, with a thought, with a whisper

With a careless memory, with a careless memory

"Careless Memories"

Duran Duran

October 5, 2021

Undisclosed Location, Los Angeles, California

General Diane Beckman made her way slowly down the corridor in the bunker. It was a secret NSA bunker, a sort of way station in the Los Angeles area, routinely used for securing prisoners in transit. She hadn't utilized it during this mission, believing the security she had put in place at everyone's homes had been sufficient. Her shoulders were slumped, her gait weary as she moved.

She hated second guessing herself. The threat at the time had seemed manageable. She also knew Chuck and Sarah would have never consented to being bunkered, fearing what it would do to their children's lives. Now, Sarah's 14 year old sister had been kidnapped, Sarah's mother critically injured, Chuck and Sarah's home nearly destroyed…and Chuck was dead.

Beckman was tough, made harder each year she had chosen to continue her work with the NSA. She was a soldier first, a friend later. But Chuck had changed that, hadn't he? He had slowly worked his way under her armor and dissolved it from the inside out. Standing in her office nine years ago, she had accused Casey of going soft in one breath, then fretting about the possibility of him getting himself killed in the next. She had grown to care about them, all of them, more than she had ever wanted to…more than she had ever thought possible.

She tried to suck in her breath and draw back her shoulders, but found it physically painful. It hurt to breathe. Absently, she wondered if it could be the beginning of a heart attack. Chest pain, right? Only this, she was suddenly certain, was not that. This was the jagged pain of her broken heart.

She paused at the door, her hand frozen on the doorknob. Walking into the room suddenly seemed the hardest thing she had ever had to do. Her long career in the military had given her the opportunity plenty of times to deliver bad news. Killed in action, missing in action…a thousand letters, conversations, and sentiments. The difference here? Those deaths had been part of their offer to serve. Never acceptable, but accepted, as part of the service.

Now, she had to walk through this door and tell a nine year old boy whom she cared about like a grandson that his father was dead, because she ultimately had failed to protect them both. What gave her the strength to turn the doorknob…was the deep affection she had for the boy and his family. His father had once saved her life, at potentially catastrophic cost to himself. The very least she owed Chuck's son was compassion in his darkest hour.

She turned the knob and pushed the door open slowly, hearing it creak ever so slightly. She saw Stephen flail on the small cot, startled by the noise.

"It's alright," she soothed as she stepped into the room and shut the door behind her.

The room was stark, hospital-like and unadorned. There were all white cement walls and a pale gray tile floor, with the simple cot slid up against the wall. This was the safest place he could be, but it wasn't comforting in the slightest.

She watched him shift, calming as he realized it was only her. She watched him deflate, the sadness and worry taking over his features. He curled himself tighter into a ball beneath the stiff wool army blanket on top of him. He fixed his gaze on her shoes, blinking rapidly.

God, he looks so much like his father it's unsettling, she thought suddenly, then swallowed down the sadness that rose at the thought.

"Stephen," she said, moving towards the cot.

"What is this place?" he asked, his voice small and meek.

"How much do you remember, Stephen?" she asked gently, sitting at the end of the cot.

He waited a long time before he answered. "People shooting at my house. Mr. Barker and my Dad…asked me to use my arrows…to help them."

"You did, Stephen," she said, allowing her pride in him to shine. "You were amazing."

"Mr. Barker wanted to get us away…I think we were in the car. All three of us," he said hesitantly.

"Stephen," she started again, her voice hushed with emotion.

"My father," Stephen cried. He gulped painfully, whimpering. "Cozette's mother told you he was dead," he choked, confused, not certain why he knew that considering she wasn't part of his explained memories.

"She made sure you were safe. You were unconscious, but you must have heard her just the same," Beckman explained.

Beckman felt the thin cot mattress beneath her start to shake, as she looked quickly to see the boy, trembling violently. She could hear him wheezing, struggling to breathe, as she saw his face contorted with pain, silent tears wetting his cheeks. She wished at that moment that she knew how to comfort him, but she had no experience with children, and no ability to push her own pain aside to be strong for him. The noises he was making sounded to her like what it would sound like inside her chest if she could somehow hear inside it.

She stayed silent, but Stephen sat upright quickly, lunging at her, squeezing her around her body with her arms pinned to her sides. His pain ground at her insides like sandpaper. Shifting, she pulled her arms out, and reached around him, hugging him awkwardly against her. "I'm so sorry, Stephen," she whispered, amazed at the tenderness in her own voice.

"My mother!" Stephen shrieked, twisting in her arms. "She…she…" He wheezed again, unable to speak as he struggled to breathe.

Firmly, trying to reassure him, Beckman answered, "Your Uncle John is on his way to her right now. He'll keep her safe, and get her back to you and your sisters."

"What if he can't?" Stephen wailed.

He'll die trying, she thought, but knew she couldn't say. A thousand horrible scenarios played across her mind, but she pushed them aside. "He'll do whatever he has to do. I promise you that." She wished she could promise his mother's safety, but she also knew all she could truly promise was John Casey's dedication and determination. Whether Sarah lived or died, and what condition she would be in if she did live, was completely out of her hands.

Promises were one thing, spoken carefully, with every attempt to be truthful. All she definitely knew for certain…Sarah knew Chuck was dead. The most frightening place Casey could end up was between Sarah and the men responsible for her husband's death.

October 5, 2021

London, England, United Kingdom

Carina and Sarah, with Jacques in tow, met Colin and Nigel at the spy base. The two MI6 agents had already been contacted by General Casey, and they were awaiting his arrival within the hour. Both men had been briefed about the kidnapping and the ransom demands, with time and location. Carina explained everything to them about the implant and the schematics they had recovered in France and Hungary respectively. Jacques explained his part in all of it.

While Sarah and Carina had been gathering intelligence, Nigel and Colin had tracked Kovacs and had a very good idea of where and when he had entered the country again, and where he had taken Molly while they were waiting for the scheduled rendezvous.

"He knows we would have the ability to track him," Sarah interjected, the first words she had spoken during the entire interaction since they had returned. "What's his plan?"

"He's demanding the device and the schematics. Using the girl as leverage," Colin explained, a hint of impatience in his voice for feeling like he needed to explain the obvious.

"But he needs her," Sarah shouted, gesturing to Jacques, daring him to contradict her. "And he knows we know that he does. He needs her DNA. Which doesn't require her to be alive when he uses it, right?"

"No," Jacques said tightly, fearing he was fueling some unseen fire inside her with his words. "But they needed…the boy's brain as well," he added, stopping himself from saying her son. The effect was the same, but somehow, acknowledging it out loud was too tenuous.

"There is no evidence that they have custody of anyone else, alive or dead," Nigel told them, flattening his tone to keep it neutral, fully aware that the meaning behind his words was wreaking more havoc.

"They could run it without him," Jacques offered. "It isn't ideal, but if they're desperate, they'll do it while they have at least one."

"Why are they so desperate?" Sarah asked, almost shrilly. "They've had the upper hand for years and we never even knew they were a danger to us."

"That's just it, Sarah. They've been plotting along for over ten years, waiting for all the planets to align. They are as close as they are ever going to be…right now," Jacques reasoned with her.

"So then his plan is what, exactly? Kill us all and take what he wants…that seems highly probable. But he has to know we won't just show up and try and make the exchange, right?" Sarah asked.

"Maybe he thinks we're desperate enough that we would," Carina finally cut in.

"So then that's exactly what we do," Sarah hissed. "We force him to show his hand. We do everything that he asked us to do."

"Ok," Colin countered. "But how do we just do that, and not get everyone killed?"

Sarah turned to Jacques. "None of them know you're here…and that you're helping us. That's what I'm counting on, to add the only element of surprise we have."

"He's one man," Colin argued. "No offense, Robert," he muttered under his breath, turning to Jacques. Jacques merely shrugged in agreement.

"Yes, he is," Sarah said crisply. "And I'm just one woman." She crossed her arms, jutting out her chin defiantly at him. "With a debt to extract…from every single one of them."

The air in the room felt like winter as her words fell like ice crystals. Sarah plowed past them all as they stood in a semi-circle. She missed the looks Carina and Jacques exchanged, which eventually ricocheted off the other two men as well.

XXX

When Casey arrived, they were just waiting. The time to the scheduled rendezvous was one hour. Nigel and Colin briefed them on the plan, but Casey was distracted, wondering at Sarah's obvious absence from the room. Carina and Jacques were here as well, which made Sarah's location more curious. He had been dreading seeing her, wondering what he could possibly say in this circumstance, the blackest moment in her life. He was coarse and stoic with almost everything, but the pain running through him was real, and unsquashable, something utterly foreign to him.

The quiet murmur of overlapping conversations was suddenly disturbed by Sarah's screeching. "You were in charge of protecting them!" she screamed, wild-eyed and crazed like a rabid animal. She charged at him, pummeling his chest with her fists in a desperate fury. "How could you let that happen? How?" she continued to scream, while the others stood in mute shock at her outburst.

Casey grabbed her wrists, wrestling with her significant strength. He was huffing and panting by the time he had exerted enough force to stop her. "Sarah," he said, calmly and softly in the face of her rage. She was red faced and incoherent as she flailed lamely. He was afraid of bruising her, but she fought with a strength that took equal effort to contain. He dragged her backward, holding her by her arms, trying to get her to a private place instead of in front of all the agents who were trusting her to be calm and collected.

Through the door that Casey shut, she continued to struggle, but she went limp as she realized it was futile to continue twisting in his grasp. She choked, the scream turning to a sob, as she crumpled against him. The hands he had used to restrain her now were her only support as her knees gave out and she sagged to the floor. Awkwardly, he pulled her into his arms, holding her as she struggled. All of the strength fled her body, and Casey just held her, offering the only comfort he could, which was next to nothing. "I'm sorry, Sarah," he whispered.

She was screaming and crying at the same time, burying her face against his chest to muffle the sound. Casey would have stayed there holding her for eternity, if he could have, but time was running out. He was damned if he let anything happen to Sarah's sister. "I make the exchange. He contacted me."

"No, no, Casey–" she gasped, struggling to her feet as she argued with him.

"You're emotionally overwrought and you know it, Walker," he added, throwing in his old name for her as a way to try and ground her.

"I'm not sitting this out, Casey," she growled. "Those people destroyed my entire life…and one way or another, they are going to pay for it."

"Abigail and Alison need you, Sarah," Casey interjected softly. You're all they have, he thought but didn't say.

She replied like he had said nothing. "If Keller had already killed Kathleen… and Alex…would you have needed my help?" she demanded, her eyes narrowed to thin slits. "You would have killed all six of them with your bare hands. I know it…and so do you."

Casey knew she was right. It was frightening to acknowledge, but truthful just the same. "You stay with Jacques, then. Surprise them…and then send them straight to hell, where they belong."

XXX

The only thing holding Chuck together was adrenaline and caffeine. He hadn't eaten or slept in almost 48 hours. His nerves were frayed, his patience had evaporated, and his heart was broken. His muscles ached, delayed from the confrontation at his home, and now made worse by hours spent cramped into the car and then the airplane. He was tense and anxious, wound tight like a coil.

"Casey is here, Chuck," Cole told him. "He landed about an hour ago, according to my estimates."

"They're at the base that Carina and Zondra were using, right?" Chuck asked him, nervously glancing at the clock on the dashboard. They were running out of time. Cole drove as fast as he could, but there was a real possibility now the team would already have moved into location.

"They are," Cole answered. "According to Casey's report, the exchange is supposed to take place at the flat where they had the first confrontation with Kovacs. Apparently, the flat that Jacques Robert was renting."

"They can't just be showing up with the intel…and no plan, right?" Chuck asked rhetorically.

"Absolutely not," Cole asserted. "They're prepared to attack. Of that, I'm certain. I do know they had to have contingencies in place, in case Kovacs doesn't bring the girl. That is a very real possibility, considering he needs her for his plan to work."

"If that's the case, then it's us. We're the contingency plan," Chuck offered. "We find them and observe. Then we get Molly away from them."

"You're probably right, Chuck. But we'll have to time it perfectly. Are you ready for this, Chuck?" Cole asked warily.

"The Intersect is. And so am I," Chuck told him confidently. Both men absorbed it, knowing exactly what Chuck was talking about. He was prepared to use the weapon still in his possession, if he had no other choice. Chuck was no killer, but to protect the people he loved, he would do what was necessary.

"Now we just need to get to the right location," Cole mumbled under his breath.

The car sped through an intersection, a multitude of street signs visible. They were colorful and assorted shapes, different from the street signs in America. One name held Chuck's attention briefly, and he flashed. A street name, numbers, and a name, along with classified documents, all hidden in the photograph of a bird's nest. Cole heard his gasp when he caught his breath.

"Chuck?" Cole asked expectantly.

"Portobello Road," Chuck told him. "I know where it is."

Cole was amazed and distressed at the same time. "How is that in the Intersect?" he asked, almost to himself, not expecting Chuck to reply. "We have been looking for him off and on for almost a decade…and it's just there, like that?"

"The Intersect works differently than that. Sometimes it's a name, a voice…a face. Like, in the very beginning, there was nothing about Sarah in the Intersect, but I flashed on a ring she was wearing. And then Casey found info on her in the NSA database under a cover name. It's not precise, but that's why it works. My brain makes the connections," Chuck explained.

Cole huffed out his breath. "I understand now why you were so worried about your son. When he's older–"

"Yeah, I know," Chuck said heavily. He pondered that for a moment, then shook his head as he went back to the point at hand. "Molly's real name was in the Intersect, probably for the same reason. This portion of intel at least was known by someone, and it was added to the download." Chuck pointed out the window. "There!" he shouted. "Go!"

Cole complied, following Chuck's direction.

XXX

Cole killed the headlights and turned off the car. They waited in silence, parked along the sidewalk, with a full view of the flat. Cole pulled a pair of infrared glasses from his pocket and held them against his eyes. He peered upward at the window on the second floor. There was a dim light in the room visible from the street. "I don't have a clear view," Cole told him. All he could see were shadows moving behind the shade.

"There," Chuck said urgently, pointing as a group of men emerged from the door abutting the alleyway.

"That's Kovacs," Cole confirmed. He was accompanied by three other men. They crossed the street, entered a vehicle, and drove away. Cole motioned for Chuck to duck as the headlights passed them. "No Molly," Cole confirmed.

"So she's either inside…" Chuck stopped talking, unable to finish the sentence. He couldn't face the idea that Molly could already be dead. He tamped it down, blinking hard to clear the awful picture it painted in his head.

"Someone is still up there," Cole told him, glancing with his glasses again. "If she's not and they've moved her, we'll figure it out." Chuck appreciated Cole not saying out loud Chuck's worst fear.

"Let's go," Chuck said firmly, nodding to Cole the moment before he jumped out of the car.

The two men moved silently across the street, weapons drawn. Cole attached the device to the keypad that opened the door. They waited on either side of the door, holding it so it closed silently. The stairway was pitch black and smelled stale like dirt and garbage. The grit on the stairs scuffed as they moved. In total darkness, the going was slow, feeling for the edges of each step and the corresponding turns as they ascended.

At the landing for the second floor, they saw the light from under the closed door of the flat. There was one guard standing in the near darkness. Cole made eye contact with Chuck, nodding as a way to indicate, if the room was being guarded, there was a good chance Molly was inside. Silently, Cole motioned for Chuck to advance to the edge of the darkness, just out of the guards sight. Using his tranq pistol, even from the distance away that they were, Chuck dropped him instantly.

The sound the man's body made hitting the floor was loud enough to alert anyone inside. Cole and Chuck, moving in synchrony, ran down the corridor, reaching the door just in time for it to open. Cole's foot made contact with the center of the man's chest, sending him sprawling. One more guard was inside the flat, Chuck realized, as he saw the blur of motion as the first man went down.

He heard the muffled sound of screaming…Molly, her mouth obviously gagged. Chuck could flash on demand, when he needed the physical skills in the Intersect. However, hearing the girl screaming triggered the flash without him even needing to think about it. Chuck raced into the doorway and engaged both men at the same time. All Cole saw was a blur of arms and legs, karate chops to the neck, a roundhouse kick and both men were disarmed. Chuck ducked, then dived, grabbing one man around the waist and swinging him down and across, effectively knocking both men off their feet. A few more punches and elbows to the face, and the fight was over.

Cole moved past him towards the chair where Molly was bound. Chuck sucked in his breath hard, mentally disengaging the emotional dampers this version of the Intersect employed for effectiveness. The amount and intensity of emotion the Intersect had been allowing him to hold at bay was nearly debilitating when it returned. He gasped audibly, stifling a cry, once he saw the young girl's face.

Both of her wrists were tied to the arms of the wooden kitchen chair. She was blindfolded and gagged. Her long blonde hair was tangled and matted. She was dressed in her blue and green plaid pajamas, what she had been wearing when she had been taken from her bedroom in her mother's house. Her screams of abject terror and horror cut to the center of him.

"Molly! Molly, it's Chuck," he shouted to be heard over her screeching.

She recognized his voice, and the timber of her noises changed from terrified to confused and anxious. Cole reached her first, pulling at her blindfold so she could see them. The moment her eyes were liberated, they searched the room frantically. Her face was dirty, streaked with tears, and her eyes were red and swollen from crying. The whimper of relief when she saw him fortified him, calmed him. "It's alright," Cole mumbled as he started to untie her arms.

Chuck stepped forward and as gently as he could pulled the duct tape off her mouth. She was incoherent and hysterical. Chuck helped free her, then fell backward on his haunches when she dived into his arms, squeezing him so hard he had trouble taking a deep breath. "It's alright," he soothed, struggling to keep his voice from breaking. "You're safe. You're safe," he kept repeating, trying to calm her.

Chuck wished there was more time, because she was far beyond her ability to cope, but they had to get moving. He tucked his hands under her legs and lifted her into his arms, gratified when she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face into his shoulder. "We have to go," he told her quietly.

"Who is that?" she mumbled, not lifting her face from his shoulder.

"This is Cole. He's a friend of mine and Sarah's," Chuck explained as they began moving into the hallway.

"Chuck…how…" Molly stammered, obviously confused about so many things.

"It's a long story, believe me. One I'm going to have to sit down with you and Stephen and explain, but for now, just trust me, ok?" Chuck instructed as they moved to the stairs.

She sobbed out loud against his chest. "That man said…Stephen is dead," she wailed.

"He's safe, Molly. I promise," Chuck assured her.

"Did you hear anything else that they said?" Cole asked crisply as he walked beside them.

Chuck gave him a cautious look, both hating and understanding the need to grill her while she was still so distressed.

"Just…just that they were on the way to the…rendez…rendezvous. They called someone else to tell them that," she said.

"That's their plan, then," Cole said sharply. "Completely overrun them and take what they want."

"Well, then, we'll just have to stop them," Chuck asserted as they walked from the light back into the darkness of the stairwell.