A/N: Thanks for those that reviewed the last chapter. A noticeable drop. Never mind, I love this story, so it'll continue.
Thanks to MarkeyDeSad for the beta, once again.
So, now Sarah is happy that Chuck wants to be with her and not his partner, but is still worried about his safety before he returned to LA. Let's see what unfolds for each of them next…
The Novelist
Chapter 5: Mission
Sarah had had a great night's sleep and woke refreshed.
The Hyatt Regency was a nice hotel by the Chicago River. She spent some time in the morning just looking out her room's window at the boats travelling that river before going for breakfast with Ellie. Once they finished, they went in different directions. Ellie went walking the Magnificent Mile, shopping, whereas Sarah had decided to go up the Willis Tower to the Skydeck. The viewing platform did indeed provide impressive views of the Windy City.
It wasn't just the impressive nature of the views, but also Sarah's mind started to imagine the activities going on down below and to consider how that could be incorporated into her novels.
Sarah could look out at that vista for as long as Ellie could shop. Unfortunately, the timed visit was over far too quickly, so she went to a local coffee shop to observe the people of Chicago.
She met up with her editor for lunch, back near their hotel in a small place on the banks of the river on the opposite side from the hotel. Then, they headed to that day's bookstore for her first session of the day.
Between talks, Sarah went back to the hotel and tapped away on her iPad in her room for a good hour, her thoughts swirling, thinking about Chicago. Once the ideas dried up, something else captured her thoughts. Or rather, someone.
Sarah didn't understand how someone could capture a place in her thoughts so quickly, so easily, but he had. The big problem was that she had no photographs of him. She hadn't thought to take a photo while he was with her. However, she knew how to fix that and reached for her phone and sent a text.
Do you have a recent photo of Chuck?
She didn't have long to wait for the reply.
Pining?
She huffed. That was right, but she wasn't going to admit it to his sister.
He can get a photo of me from a book cover. I have nothing.
She waited a bit longer, but was then surprised when a photo came through. She beamed and sent a final text.
Thx
Other than reading one more text from his sister, she just gazed at the photo for the next hour. That additional text made her smile, though.
Sent one of your cover photos to him x
Sarah finally decided to take another shower and get ready for the evening. This morning's reading had been quite a letdown after the last one in Washington, as would this evening's one. She would just hope for a call from him later, when he got up the following morning.
She was tired from the week, when she got back to her home on Friday night, but relieved as well. Of course, she'd slept there the night before as well, but now the book tour was officially over, she could now get back to her normal routine.
That also meant she had nothing to distract her from her writing. That should be a good thing but she knew concentrating was going to be difficult. Her thoughts were across the Pacific.
Chuck had managed to call her each day. Ellie had teased her that it was as if they were already dating, but she brushed that off. However, she had loved hearing his voice all week and it kept her going through each stop on the tour.
She couldn't complain about the tour, though. After all. if she hadn't gone to Washington, she would never have met Chuck Bartowski.
Of course, now her thoughts of him were homing in on her worry about what he was doing over there in Tokyo. Those worries had been in the back of her mind since he'd left for Japan, but would now take center stage, unimpeded by the activities of the week. She just knew it. She was an obsessive person and she was going to obsess like hell over his safety.
She really needed to know the dangers he faced when he was with Zondra and this Casey guy. She reasoned that if she knew more about the operations and Chuck's abilities she might have less to worry about. For instance, could he handle himself in a fight? She didn't even know that. From those amazingly wide shoulders, she was sure he could swim if he got thrown off a boat or something, but did that sort of thing happen to him? To them?
She thought about the dangers she put her character in and spiraled off in that direction. Chuck running through a hail of bullets! Oh God, please not that!
She now sat, at nine in the evening on a Friday night, staring at her phone and wishing she had been back two hours earlier. Chuck had known she would be at the bookstore in the city, fielding questions and signing books, so he just texted her.
Sarah knew he was busy and wouldn't have a chance to call until he had finished for the day. If he called at ten in the evening, his time, it would be six in the morning here. She had told him that was ok, but he said it was too early for her and offered an hour later. So, tomorrow morning, she'd be awake at 6:55, sipping coffee to fully wake up and awaiting his call.
Maybe now, he'd be able to call her in the evenings too, when he woke up. That would be good too.
However, that worry would still hang over her until he was back in Los Angeles.
Chuck had started to wish he had never agreed to work with the NSA.
He hated that Sarah was worried about him. He also hated that Sarah was having to lie to his sister, just like he did. Call it National Security, call it the Greater Good, it all sucked.
He ignored the fact that it was his working with the NSA that had taken him to DC where he met that amazing woman.
Instead, he thought back the day he had been 'recruited.'
= ! =
Chuck was sweating through his dark crimson Stanford T-Shirt. He had no idea why he was handcuffed to a metal chair in front of a metal table. He was wracking his brain to come up with a reason for his predicament. He was only a junior and had a full year left before his graduation with a computer engineering degree. He was sure they wouldn't have detected his hacking; he was too good for that.
He was scared out of his mind and started to hyperventilate at the thought of being arrested. He just knew this was the end of the line, all his sister's and his hard work had come to naught. He started to turn green as a wave of nausea hit him when the door to the small room opened.
A diminutive woman in a blue uniform with silver-colored birds on the epaulets on her shoulders, strode into the room. Her auburn hair was pulled back into a tight and rather severe bun, giving her face a bit of a pinched expression. An air of authority emanated from her and despite her petite stature, her presence filled the room. She carried a black leather attaché case in her right hand.
She was followed into the room by a large, rather rough looking, man in a black suit with a white shirt and black tie. To Chuck, he looked just like one of the men in black, or MIB. As he closed the door with a loud and very final sounding clang, Chuck's nerves gave out and he leaned over and vomited on the floor.
"Good Lord, Colonel, this can't be the kid who hacked our trap server. He doesn't seem to have the stomach for it," the large MIB quipped as he pulled out the metal chair for the woman to sit facing Chuck. She stared him down her gaze razor sharp and a twinkle in her eye. She winked at Chuck as she spoke with authority to her hulking subordinate.
"Less lip from you, Captain Casey. Go find a mop and bucket so you can clean up after our young recruit. Oh, and bring back some ginger ale and soda crackers, we need to settle his stomach before we discuss his possible futures." She turned her gaze to her companion when she heard his sarcastic muttering and grunts. Motioning dismissively with her hand toward the door her voice loud and commanding as she emphasized the man's rank. "That's an order, Captain!"
Chuck watched as the large MIB snapped to attention, saluted, turned on his heal and left at double time. Chuck wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and his gaze settled on the woman across from him. He read the tag above the breast pocket of her uniform jacket: Beckman. Little did he know that day was the day his life would change forever.
Colonel Beckman smiled at the young man sitting across from her, he was tall and a bit lanky but with a swimmer's build. She knew he was at Stanford on a full ride athletic scholarship, part of the varsity swim team. She also knew that he'd also earned a full academic scholarship, but chosen the athletic scholarship as it was much larger than the academic one. That didn't change the fact that his IQ test had shown he had a genius level intellect, just like his older sister. Of course, that came as no surprise to the Colonel as she'd know their parents. Mary and Stephen Bartowski had been very good friends and what had happened to them was still one of the things that kept her up at night.
Chuck didn't know why but there was something familiar about the military lady who was smiling very kindly at him. He could see a warmth and affection in her eyes that he just couldn't place. It was like he knew her and that knowledge went a long way toward calming his badly shaken nerves. Normally he'd have been rambling and spitting out a meaningless word salad trying to talk his way out of the situation he found himself in but the kind eyes of the woman across the table stilled his tongue and subdued his normal nervous habits.
Colonel Beckman cleared her throat, "Charles, you might not remember me but I met you a long time ago, when you were a little boy. I was a friend of your parents." She smiled at him and a memory clicked in his head. It played like a movie clip in his brain. It featured a very kind lady in a blue uniform giving him a lollypop, ruffling his hair before his mother told him to go out in the back yard and play.
He came back to the present when Colonel Beckman snapped her fingers to get his attention. Her face had turned very serious as she held his attention with her hypnotic gaze as she withdrew a manila file folder from her attaché case. He harkened back to when he watched Jungle Book and Kaa had Mowgli in his coils. He hoped that wasn't the case here. She placed the folder on the table, opened it and turned it so that Chuck could see its content. There were type written documents with his name on them, and pictures of him. All of the items in the folder had 'Top Secret' stamped on them in red.
"I see you seem to have inherited your father's love of and gift with computers, Charles. We've noted no less than two dozen incursions you've made into government servers belonging to the DIA, DOD, CIA and my branch the NSA. I can only assume that you're looking for information relating to your parents' deaths."
She was absolutely right. He was convinced that it wasn't just an accident that plunged their car off that cliff. Dad was a very cautious driver. His mom wasn't, but when they were together, Dad always insisted he drive. Something about being fearful for their lives when she was behind the wheel; she always deferred. So, when they were discovered in the wreckage and Mom was in the driver's seat, alarm bells went off in their young son's head. His sister had refused to believe it was anything but a tragedy, but Chuck held onto those thoughts until he knew enough to seek answers. Unfortunately, he obviously wasn't as good as he thought.
= ! =
Chuck hadn't thought about that time in quite a while. He realized that what he was now doing, along with meeting someone like Sarah, was reminding him about the multiple worlds that existed on this planet. The civilian one, overlaid with the criminal one, overlaid with the one with terrorists and drug cartels, as they were worse that just criminals, all overlaid with the law enforcement and then the one occupied with spies and associated scientists.
He had found out that his parents existed in the later one, along with their friend, Colonel Beckman, now a General. That was the world he now occupied, although he still had a foot in the civilian one, as well. Ironically, because of her writing, Sarah was similar only in reverse.
Could two people spanning the two worlds in that way be together? It was a thought that occupied his mind, when there was time.
So, here he was, wondering how he could change things for the better.
Chuck was now in full mission-mode. He needed to be to do what the whole team needed.
He so rarely participated that he felt he needed to dredge up all he had been taught. His brain was fine, as that always remembered, but his body took longer. People said your body did it better than your brain, but for him, that was not the case at all.
Of course, he wouldn't need that muscle training if they didn't get into fights or gun battles. He really hoped it wouldn't be gun battles. He really didn't want to shoot anyone. It wasn't that he'd miss; in the tests, he'd proven to be one of the most accurate. It was more that he hated hurting people and knew that the first time he killed anyone would be overwhelming.
He had previously argued that he could carry a tranquilizer gun, so there would be little chance of killing anyone, unless the dart accidentally pierced someone's eye and entered the brain. However, Casey told him, and the weapon supplying team backed him up, the darts took time to work and in that time, the target could shoot and kill several people, including Chuck. So, he carried a Glock 19. He hated it, but he found it to be the best for him.
Casey scoffed at his choice, preferring his customized Sig-Sauer P229. Although he scoffed even more at Zondra's choice, the Beretta 8040 Mini Cougar F.
After the conversation at breakfast last week, Chuck knew for sure that Casey was going to make comments about his unwillingness to kill enemies of the US government, so, in a way, it was good that he didn't swap his Glock for the tranquilizer gun he'd considered on the flight over.
Anyway, with his gun in a holster, tucked in the back of his waistband, he was following Casey and Zondra as they made their way to their target location.
It had taken them seven days to track down the place where they had been building this device and where it was now apparently awaiting testing.
The NSA had been the ones who'd located the blueprints for it and to eliminate the threat of more being produced. Chuck had wondered why the CIA weren't involved, but Zondra had explained that this being a device that would disrupt the IT networks of the United States, as well as other countries around the world, it was deemed an NSA target.
Now, they had the location of the testing site where, apparently, their enemies would start tomorrow. They were cutting it fine going tonight, but tomorrow night may be too late. Chuck believed the test planned would actually be the real thing. After all, how would you test something that attacked the full global network of servers? You wouldn't. Once activated, BOOM! No more Internet, no more global networks of any sort.
So, here he was, the world's last chance! Great! No pressure!
He wondered why the NSA were tackling this on their own. He understood the rivalry between the NSA and the CIA, but faced with something like this threat, surely they could have put those differences to one side.
Likewise, differences between governments. Wouldn't the British, European or Australian governments send their intelligence teams to support them?
He just didn't understand all this, so shook his head and focused on what was about to happen.
Casey was at the front and held up a hand as he reached the closed door at the end of the corridor. Casey listened to sounds from beyond the door.
Chuck was surprised that the place wasn't heaving with security or, at least, cameras. This felt wrong and, a quick glance at Zondra confirmed she thought the same.
However, from the floor layout that Chuck had secured for them, beyond this door was the device.
If it was, this was Chuck's moment to shine. At least that was what they all hoped. If he didn't, they'd all be dead before they knew it.
It was now seven days since Chuck had left her at the bookstore in DC. If he hadn't been calling her, it would have felt like he walked out of her life, period.
Those calls had started to feel like her lifeline to existence. Sure, she wrote in between and the book was developing, but she no longer just lived to write; she lived for those all too brief calls.
Sarah found that having him in her life, even remotely, made her happier than she could remember. It was a surprise. She hadn't thought she was lonely before and was, she thought, happy with her life. Now, however, she realized what she had been missing; someone to care about other than herself. And she did care about Chuck, maybe too much, hence all her worry about him over in Tokyo.
She tried to forget those worries, but only managed to push them back aways in her mind. They didn't go away.
Stay safe, Chuck.
Chuck came to, covered in rubble and dust. His memory coming back to him suddenly. He knew exactly where he was, but what about his partners?
Casey had told him and Zondra to step back into the shadows in case there was someone with a gun the other side of the door when he opened it. They had done so, but Zondra had pushed him behind her as they both knelt with their guns out.
Casey had turned the door handle slowly, quietly and then everything had turned to shit.
Not only had the door blasted forward, but explosives must have been built into the stone roof of the corridor, which set off at the same time.
Chuck had been far enough back for the falling ceiling to only partly hit him, but one rock had caught his temple, knocking him out.
He was amazed to find that no one had searched for or moved him. His Glock was still clutched in his hand.
He pushed the other rubble off of him and scanned the area, frantically searching for his partners.
Zondra was two feet in front of him with a large flat piece of the roof covering her head. Blood was trickling out from under that.
Instinctively, Chuck felt his own head. Yes, there was blood trickling down there, but nowhere near as much as he was seeing by her head.
He moved forward to get to her, noticing a pain in his leg in the process, blood, still only a trickle coming from a wound in his thigh where a piece of glass was embedded. He ignored it and got to the rock over Zondra as fast as he could.
He reached for her neck, checking for a pulse. There would be no point struggling if she was dead, at least not initially; he still needed to find Casey. However, there was a pulse. There was also a voice, albeit a weak one. "Still here, just can't move," Zondra managed to say.
Chuck examined the rock and her position, trying to decide the best way to get her out.
"Take your time," Zondra muttered. He guessed that was her being sarcastic, but he had to get this right or it could drop on her again. He lowered and looked underneath to assess where she was.
It was clear that she was closest to the right-hand side. She was also facing that way, her eyes on him. "Hi, Beautiful," he whispered.
He could see her lips curl slightly. She didn't say anything, though.
"Can you reach out to me on this side?" he asked.
"Nope," she replied. "Hands both stuck under my body. Pull one out," she instructed.
He looked to his left and could see her right elbow sticking out, but her hand was under her waist, just as she had mentioned. "Ok. Going to do that."
He reached for her forearm and started pulling slowly. She winced, but didn't make a sound. He stopped and was going to ask whether he should continue, but she spoke first, "Keep going." He did and after a couple of minutes her hand was out. He could see blood pouring out from one long slice along the back. He realized there must have been a stone of some sort digging in there as he pulled.
He then lifted all the rocks off of her back and legs. All that remained was the one covering her head and neck. It still pinned her down, though.
"Move the damn rock," she instructed him.
He had lifted a rope from his back pack. He saw nothing to tie it around, so wound it around his own waist and created a loop to project just beyond.
He then undid his belt and Zondra snorted. He ignored her and looped that over the rope and did it back up to a looser hole than normal. "Just to keep the rope secure,", he stated.
"Not taking advantage of my position, then?" she commented.
He smiled, loving that she'd not lost her sense of humor. He pointed at the loop in the rope and she grasped it tightly.
"Pull when I lift," he told her.
"'k."
He moved in front of her, grasped the rock and pulled with all his strength. He was glad his swimming kept his upper arm muscles strong. The rock rose very slightly, then a bit more. He felt a tug on his waist and knew Zondra was trying to pull herself out.
He strained and lifted it higher, raising his thighs from his calves to achieve this. By this point the rock must have been sufficiently off her head for her to move easier, he thought.
Unfortunately, she was pulling herself toward his legs which would soon be in the way of further progress. Her forehead bumped his left thigh, but he realized she wasn't pulling on the rope anymore and she slid to the left of that thigh, saying, "Out. You can lower it."
He did so slowly, which strained his muscles further. He had to let go before he got it all the way down and it dropped suddenly, crashing to the ground.
He looked at his partner. Her face was badly scratched and she had a deep gash just beneath her hairline, but she was alive.
Zondra was now lying on her back, amazed that he'd managed to get her out. She opened her eyes and looked into his concerned hazel orbs inches above. She cast her hand behind his neck and pulled him down, giving him a kiss before saying, "Thanks, Chuck." Then she smirked. "You'll get away with that one because I did it." Then, she made a face at him. "Only one you'll get though."
He chuckled, but then thought about who would judge them for kissing. "Casey!" he gasped, pulling away from her.
He climbed towards where Casey would be, but there was no sign of him. Then, he saw a pile of rubble with part of the door jutting out underneath. That door was raised off of the floor.
He turned to Zondra. "He's under the door. He might still be alive."
She struggled up and the two of them made their way over.
A familiar grumpy voice said, "Yes, I'm buried. Get me out of here."
It took the them nearly twenty minutes to clear the rocks off of the door. Some needed both to lift and move them.
Then, they tried to lift the door off Casey, but it was too heavy and they had to slide it off of him. Chuck heard him wince as they did that.
Once uncovered, Casey looked in relatively good condition, but didn't move. "You're gonna have to help me up. Think I have several broken ribs." He gritted his teeth as they did so.
Now they were all standing, albeit with Casey's arm across Zondra's shoulders, Chuck thought about their predicament and went exploring. It didn't take him long to find that the way to the stairs down to this level, just around the corner from where he and Zondra had been, was also blocked.
Finding that the testing was to be done in a bunker had seemed fortuitous, but now it seemed less so. Thankfully, the bunker had two levels and they were in the bottom one. Had it been one level, it wouldn't have just been the floor above that had dropped on them, but all the soil above too. They would definitely have been buried. Now, they needed to get out of this corridor and hope that the stairs were still intact.
He went back and explained what he had found to his partners who were now standing apart.
He opened his backpack and pulled out his water and some energy bars. Casey grunted. "Wondered what you had in there."
Zondra responded, "Hey, don't make fun of him. He also had his rope which he used to help free me."
"We should get started on digging our way out," Chuck observed.
"Let's eat to get our strength up and take a small amount of this water first," Zondra replied. She looked over at Casey. "Maybe rest a bit too."
Chuck wasn't sure how much they had to do to get out and therefore how long the food and drinks would need to last, but seeing the state both of the others were in, he said nothing and sat to rest.
It was weird that his thoughts drifted across the Pacific. Sarah would worry that he didn't contact her. That made him worry about her and reinforced his desire to get out; out of the NSA as well as this bunker.
After twenty-four hours of silence, Sarah's worries felt like they were being realized.
When she heard nothing from him that morning, she'd been disappointed, but some days he'd only called once, so she didn't worry, at least no more than normal. However, now, it was nine in the evening and he still hadn't called. She knew something was wrong.
Her spy-oriented brain kicked in as she tried to decide what she could do.
She couldn't risk calling him, or Zondra. If they were hiding from some enemies, her call could make their presence known, wherever they were. If they had been captured, it might alert the enemy to the presence of their phones that they may have hidden.
No, she couldn't call, or text for that matter. All she could do was worry and she was already doing that. Shit!
She really needed to know who to contact in such a situation. When he got back, and she had to think that he would, she'd have to get that information from him.
Come back to me, Chuck!
Chuck felt like he'd been lifting rubble for days, but, looking at his watch, he could see it was only three and a half hours.
They had, at least managed to clear a hole in the top of the pile and see some lights beyond. When he got close to that hole, Chuck had seen the stairs, still intact. So, they now had hope.
As he sat with the other two, drinking water again, he shared his thoughts. "This was a set up from the start. They'd rigged this to blow. They probably expected the whole floor to come crashing down on us, but we were fortunate that it didn't."
Casey grunted. "No shit, Sherlock."
Chuck looked at the guy. He wasn't in good shape. His arms and legs were fine and he was helping as much as he could, but everything he did was obviously causing him pain. He'd persuaded Chuck to help him remove his shirt and tear it into strips which Zondra had then wrapped around his chest, as bandages. The bruising was bad. Chuck suspected the older guy was right, several broken ribs. However, Casey chipped in as much as his partners in clearing the way.
Chuck estimated they would be able to get through in another two hours at the rate they'd been going, as long as they could manage that pace.
Then, of course, they still needed to get away from this place.
Unlike earlier, when he'd worried about Sarah and how she would take his silence, now thoughts of her were what kept him going. Once back at his hotel room, he'd call her, no matter what the time was. Her voice would ease any discomfort.
He was also determined to get back to Los Angeles and, more importantly, to Sarah Walker. She was his lifeline.
A/N: Sorry to stop there. Well, no I'm not. The three are still alive, though, so at least I've included enough for you to see that.
Let me know your thoughts on this chapter.
