AN- Obsessive Sarah kicks it up to 11. Their interpersonal issues will get some 'airtime' later. Then some more flashback, stopping on a cliffhanger.
Present, Carmichael Industries G550.
"So…"
"So, I love you. Chuck Bartowski, Charles Carmichael… whatever name you're using. And we made a promise about college and what we'd do after. I've been holding onto that these past years. It sort of, well it saved me from going down a dark path. Without it, I might have become the 'Enforcer' people called me. We missed some of the things we wanted to do." Sarah said quickly. "We've both obviously graduated, we have world affecting jobs, and you mister are waaaaay late with a ring."
"Sarah…" Chuck started to say and was interrupted when she let him go and pulled back.
"Nope. Missed your chance." She took in his startled expression and poked him, grinning. "Not like that. I mean, it's my turn now and I'm not letting this slip past us." Sarah said. "So, whatever your name is now… After a decade without you, it took me about thirty seconds with you to realize that you still own my entire heart. Will you marry me?"
Chuck grabbed her and kissed her as if his life depended on it. Things again became a bit a blur of activity, but an hour later, an out of breath and sweaty Sarah collapsed back on the bed and giggled. "That was either a yes, or the absolute best rejection in the history of relationships. We totally should have stretched before that."
"Goof." Chuck said and poked her in the side. "Of course yes. I've loved you since the day we met and you let me babble on about comics at you. Since before I knew what the word even meant. Every day away hurt like you wouldn't believe. Sarah or Jenny or whatever name you end up with. We just need to figure out…"
"No. No we don't, Chuck. This is what's important." Sarah interrupted gesturing at the two of them. "The spy world invaded our lives and separated us once, I won't let it happen again. We're back. Names may have changed, but here we are. Chuck and Sarah now, joined at the hip. I won't be separated from you again. Period. I'll plow through anything, and anyone, in our way."
"You've gotten even bossier." Chuck chided her gently. "And a little scary. I was going to say 'We just need to figure out our next steps, contact Graham safely and report in.'."
"Oh…" Sarah said a bit sheepishly. "Sorry, I kind of spiraled there didn't I."
"Warranted, I wanna lock this down too. I'm with you, we won't be split up now that I've managed to get back here. We've got ten years to catch up on and the rest of our lives to plan. I am going to suggest a somewhat lengthy engagement period over my urge to tell the cockpit to divert to Vegas. It was a long time and we need work that out. I think its best said that the two of us have… issues to resolve." He squeezed her against him. "Also, we need to destroy Fulcrum and their bosses to be safe. We really don't want to try to start a life in the world they want."
Sarah opened her mouth then closed it. What she wanted to ask was important, but she was unsure if it would sound like an accusation. "So for all this time, after you went under…" she trailed off wincing.
"Why didn't I contact you? Using any one of a number of secure ways?" Chuck sighed. "Misguided protective sense? Stupidity? Fear about how you'd react that got worse the longer I waited? It was about seven months back when I realized I had enough of the Fulcrum structure mapped out and I ran out of excuses. By that time you were embedded with the Secret Service and I didn't know how the details of that op. Couldn't risk jogging your elbow. I'd have waited for a bit longer and tried to catch you on vacation or something, but Andric brought things to a head." He chuckled. "You look adorable with that little earpiece and a pantsuit by the way."
"I do have that outfit in my bag." Sarah said. "You know, if you want…"
"Actually, I do. And it has less to do with wanting to peel you out of it afterwards than practical considerations." Chuck said, sitting up. "Its going to play a part in the overall mission so we can give my giant 'fuck you I'm retiring' message to the NCS and Graham."
"A little bitter?" Sarah asked, putting a hand on his knee.
Chuck's snort of laughter had a brittle edge. "Years under. Playing a role that… it isn't me Sarah. I've been fighting losing myself the whole time. I think I only made it though with the hope of… well this."
"You weren't totally alone though. You had, have some kind of a team right?" she replied, rising from the bed to begin pulling her clothes back from where they'd been flung, again.
"Only a few of them that know anything about who I was before. I had to maintain a fairly strict regimen to keep anyone else from guessing what was going on." Chuck replied, also rising and beginning to dress.
Sarah got dressed in silence and walked over to Chuck, pulling him into a hug. "Well, I've got your back now. You can ease off on the act a bit." she whispered in his ear.
He relaxed in her embrace and sighed. "I know, and I can't say how much that means to me."
"I've done undercover, even deep, but never as long as this." Sarah began delicately and leaned back.
Chuck looked at her a bit oddly and nodded. "I've read the files."
"Technically, I was assigned this as a potential 'deep cover' op. I mentioned to Graham that I would need some latitude." Sarah continued and took his hand. "I was saying it for his benefit, but I know that even short stints… I've had to do things. You've been under for years, Chuck." She paused again. "When I came back from operations, I had mandatory sessions with…"
He sighed, interrupting. "I know. Can we talk about that later?"
She nodded, released him and rose. She wouldn't press him, but the look in his eyes told her that he'd need some serious support to get over this mission. Squaring her shoulders she put that aside, she'd be there for him when he was ready. Then she pulled her boots on, rearranging her knife holsters and her S&W before sliding her somewhat rumpled jacket on to complete the ensemble. She touched up her hair in the mirror above the small dresser, then turned to survey the room. "I feel bad for the guy that loaned you this jet, this is going to take a bit to clean up." Sarah said, her tone deliberately light.
"Well, I'll try not to hold it against you if you help me make the bed later." Chuck said, grinning. He was tying his shoes and looked up at her. It was then that she'd noticed he had dumped the suit into hamper and changed into a light green button down over a tshirt, and jeans. He had been moving from closet to drawers with familiarity and she put it together just then.
"You own this plane?" Shock colored her voice. "Just how much money have you made?"
"I'd have to ask Morgan. He keeps the books, but its a lot. This plane was practical. I live onboard most of the time and can move around without staying in one play long enough for people to localize me." Chuck shrugged. "I think we got a good deal from a Saudi who was trading up." He grinned at her. "Technically, you own half this plane. Or you will since I'm not planning on a pre-nup."
"Wait, Morgan ?" Sarah grinned, ignoring his comment about the plane. "The Beard is part of this? I never saw him after you went away. I looked for him too."
"That's because he came with me shortly after." Chuck said, making his way out in to the main cabin. "He's actually up in the cockpit with the pilot. They're my core team, once we get back to Ellie, they know about…"
"They know about the mission. And me." she replied, nodding and realizing why the flight crewman had seemed familiar. "You trust them then."
"With our lives." Chuck said firmly.
"OK." Sarah said. She absolutely trusted Chuck, so she had to trust his assessment of his team. Nodding soberly, she considered what he hadn't said. Anyone else who worked for him, by definition, should not be trusted. She moved to sit at one of the chairs near a low table. "What's your plan?"
Chuck sat opposite her and tapped a hidden control. The table flipped over to show a large touch screen display. He pressed his finger to a sensor and tapped out a code rapidly. A number of folders appeared on the screen. He selected the one labeled Andric and opened it. "First we collect Andric, stopping this bomb plot, and stash him in Castle. We do it quick and quiet so its a bit before someone realizes he's gone. They'll assume he's gone to ground from the blown op in Burbank so we might need Casey to make at least a little noise. Anonymous tips, so frustrating for terrorists." Tapping on various icons he opened files displaying the vital stats and habits of the target. "Hopefully CIA or NSA has picked up something current on Andric, but if not there are a few people we can lean on in Burbank."
"After this one? What's the overall plan for Fulcrum and… what did you call it the Ring?" Sarah paused. "Like the horror film?"
"Its kind of a horror film. However its more for the council nature of the organization. I've been unable to identify all of their members, but I've got enough mapped out that once we start we should be able to find the others. That or they'll be too busy running from the wreckage to bother anyone." Chuck shrugged. "We take what we can."
Sarah looked at him, seeing his discomfort. "Spill it, Chuck. You're smart and you've managed to run a private intel empire and evade the entirely real efforts of the CIA and NSA to shut you down. I've got a part to play beyond fiance and next level sexual partner, don't I." She made the last part a statement rather than question and included a bit of a leer at him for good measure. He looked like he really needed a vacation.
"We've got a choice. We go after people we can just go all Rambo and take them down hard. Some will run, but we'll get most of them." Chuck said, holding up his left hand. Then he held up his right hand. "Or we can try to convince everyone its a power play in the… private intelligence industry. You would have a bit of a tightrope to walk in that scenario. However I think we can conceal enough the takedowns to get ALL of them if we play it right."
"You want be to play a double… maybe triple game depending on who's looking? Of course. I'd 'report back' on your organization. To convince some people that I'm working my way in. At the same time I'd use my access to give you things you need to show the rest of the world that you're securing your power base. Some of, even most, of the captures will have to look like deaths. We might even have to simply kill some of them… publicly." Sarah nodded as she spoke. "If I get found out I'd have to run with you or go to jail. Until or unless we win, and clear ourselves."
"Essentially, yeah."
"OK. Well, I'm in." She smiled as she looked at him. "I trust you. I'm not sure I trust Graham anymore… but I trust you."
"Beatrice." Chuck said, raising his voice slightly in a tone of command.
"Online." a female, but emotionless voice replied from speakers around the room.
"Create a profile for Agent Walker's use and add current biometrics from CIA records to the system. Replicate my permissions." Chuck said. "Confirmation code and voice verification:" He paused and looked a bit embarrassed. "Jenny. 1998."
"Confirmed. New user, Agent Sarah Walker. Welcome to Carmichael Industries." the voice, Beatrice she supposed, replied.
"I see someone's kept up their programming skills." Sarah said after a moment. "Carmichael Industries? Got a bit of an ego, Chuck?"
Chuck grinned. "I dabble. And some of our dealings are legitimate, cybersecurity is lucrative. Hence the front company. Incorporated in a non-extradition country, of course. The name was a bit of a poke at the NSA teams that try to track my hacks." Then he looked at her with the same sort of expression she was used to giving people during mission briefings. "Take a look at anything. Ask any questions you have. Tear apart my ops plans. If anything looks wrong… we either fix it or we abort and get you out." His face took on a look of concern. "I more or less volunteered to go into the cold. If this doesn't work, I don't want you stuck out here with me."
Annoyance flared, flamed into anger. If she had to be honest, the last ten years played into it. He was right that they had issues to resolve still. She rose and walked around the table, then poked him in the shoulder whenever she paused in speaking. "Not your decision, Chuck. I said I'm in this. We're back together. Engaged, and you better find me a nice ring if you can afford a plane like this. Understand me. I. AM. NOT. LEAVING. YOU." Her voice had risen to the level of a near hysterical shout. She felt a stab of panic at the thought of him leaving her sight for any length of time.
"OK, OK…" Chuck said, raising both hands. "Violent."
Sarah snorted, putting her hands on her hips and looming over him. "Only when people get stupid around me. Or abandon me for a decade."
"Right, toning down the stupid, check. Never leaving again, check." Chuck replied, smiling. "My pilot slash bodyguard will be thrilled to hear it."
The cockpit door opened and Chuck snorted. "Speak of the devil and she appears…" He waved his hands in a sort of mystical way. "Spoooooky."
Sarah heard a voice from behind her. "Everything alright back here, Boss?" It was a woman's voice. A voice that couldn't be. Sarah spun in place and saw a person she had known was dead. She'd seen the explosion herself. "Zondra?"
The tall, raven haired woman, grinned at her. "Hey, Blondie."
"But… I saw…" Sarah rushed forward and seized the woman she considered one of her best friends in a fierce hug. "Carina and I thought it was you and by the time we figured it out Amy had…"
"I know." Zondra hugged her back. "I'd have thought it was me based on what she faked."
Sarah pulled back and held Zondra's hands. "How? We saw the building go up. There were no bodies… everything burned to ash."
Zondra pulled her hands free and pointed at her seat, then took the middle chair on the other side of the table. When Sarah had taken her seat again, Zondra shrugged. "I'd tried to run down what had happened, clear my name. Got into a bit of a pickle in the warehouse the cartel had been using. And then the explosion happened. I woke up thousands of miles away and your boyfriend here was there. Offered me a job."
2003 – Bogota, Columbia
Zondra Rizzo, soon to be ex-CIA agent she supposed, wandered the back alleys of Bogota. It wasn't smart, but she had nowhere to go after that traitor Amy had sandbagged her. She'd found the proof that Amy, someone she'd considered a friend, was sending intel the cartels the team was after. Doing it for cash, not even something like love or blackmail. Just fucking greed. When she'd been ready to present it to the others, the sneaky bitch had shown up with her own forged duplicate that showed it was Zondra getting the payments. Given how the situation looked and the anger on Walker's face, Zondra had run. She hoped she could find enough proof to clear herself and go home, but right now it wasn't looking good. If she didn't move fast she'd be burned for sure. No ID, no money, and one dinky backup .380 with six rounds. If we'd been in the US, or Europe… I have contacts. Backup caches.
"FUCK!" she half-shouted, punching the wall as she walked. She was distracted couldn't afford to be, but she was also pretty well screwed and she knew it. Which is why she didn't notice the four men closing in from behind her until she smelled the cheap body spray. She stopped and without turning around said, "Boys, I've had a shitty night. I'll give you a chance to rethink this and walk away."
Zondra spoke Spanish pretty much enough only to order a beer, so she wasn't sure about all of the sneering words being used behind her. She was pretty sure they'd declined to take her up on her offer to part company peacefully. OK. My night might be looking up. When she felt the first hand roughly grab her left shoulder, she moved. Ducking under the swing she could ear from her right, she reached up and grabbed the man on the left by the wrist. With a flashing motion, she bent his arm around and brought her other hand up in a palm strike. Elbow shattered, the first screaming man collapsed to his knees. Walker would have been able to interpret the thugs surprised words to each other, being the language geek. Zondra was a close combat specialist, so she didn't bother trying.
Thug number two had recovered from his missed swing and was moving in. His buddies were close behind him, both with knives. Hmm, that complicates things. Guess they wanted to die tonight. She obliged the closest man and stepped inside his reach, surprising him. Spinning around, she hit him with a combination of strikes that left him choking for breath from a shattered larynx and staggering in the path of his buddies. He'd die from the larynx before the other injuries would cause him any issues. Thugs three and four nearly tripped on their dying comrade, with one of them managing to jump over the falling form.
He slashed wildly at her with an absurd and cheap looking bowie knock off. She deflected his arm and grabbed his wrist to control the blade. By this time, his fellow mall knife shop aficionado had caught up. So she used the leverage she had on the man she held to make him into a human shield has the last thug lunged. He managed to sink the blade to the hilt in his friends belly, said friend started to scream and collapse around the blade. Zondra held him up by the collar and shifted her grip to the hand that still loosely held his knife. Before the last uninjured thug could react, she pushed her shield forward and drove the hand, and the knife it held, into his side. Textbook. Just between the ribs. Lung and probably clipped the pericardium. Night night.
She dropped the bleeding man on his friend to let them finish dying together, then picked up a crumpled newspaper from the ground to wipe her hands on. The man with the shattered elbow seemed to be recovering slightly from the shock and was attempting to reach for something in his waistband. She dropped the bloody paper and pulled her dinky little .380. She stepped up and put it to his forehead. "Bad idea. You speak English?" she asked, her voice cold.
"Si. Yes." the thug gasped out and moved his hand away from what looked like a shitty revolver in his waistband. Zondra grabbed it and tossed it in the trash at least twenty feet away.
"I've had a shitty night, like I said. I gave you a chance to walk away." Zondra growled. "Give me a reason not to pull this trigger right now and then go for a drink."
"Others, they come." the man panted as he spoke, pain and fear in his harsh voice. "Gaez, he offered a bounty for you."
Shit, lets see if we can thin that out a bit. "OK. You just saved yourself from a bullet." Zondra said, putting the backup piece away. She quickly frisked him and took his wallet and phone. Doing the same to the others, she shoved it all in her jacket pockets and then turned back to the one she'd left alive. "Spread the word, I just want to be left alone to get out of this shithole and go home. People leave me be, and we're cool." She stared at him until he nodded. "Fuck with me, I'll come back and kill you and your family. Understood?" The nods from the man were nearly convulsive. "Peachy. Now beat it." She picked him up by the collar and set him back on his feet. Then she gave him a little tap on the rear with her booted foot.
Gaez put a bounty on me. Interesting, he must be Amy's contact. And if killing me is on the agenda… the proof that would clear me must still be here. Zondra thought quickly and remembered that Gaez had a warehouse in town. He used it to transship product right out in public more or less, trusting his power and his bought and paid for officials to keep him safe. Fine. I'll go there. Better to die taking them on than let that bitch win.
"Carina, she's out there alone because we let Amy fool us." Sarah said, pacing the room angrily. She held up her phone with its text. 'I'm sorry it worked out this way. I didn't do it. Going after Gaez. Track this phone.' "If she'd have just waited, if we'd have gotten that analyst's report a bit sooner…"
"I know! I know, Walker." Carina replied from the chair she perched on. Both were in black mission gear. Both were full of pent up anger, and worry. "We've got to wait for the track and backup. If Amy's working with Gaez, we're going to need help."
"Look, I know we need the backup, but do we need the trace?" Sarah said, thinking hard. "Gaez only has one warehouse in the city. Zondra didn't have anything when she left – if she went anywhere its close by. We could at least go take a look."
"We got orders to wait. You know that." Carina said, pointing at the laptop on the table. Both of them looked at the screen and the open email with the curt message from Graham to hold position. There was a beeping that jerked them out of their reverie. Someone had initiated a remote connection. Four video windows blinked into existence, one after the other, at intervals. It appeared like someone was setting up feeds, splicing cameras over a low speed connection. When the last feed came online, they saw a figure in black. A woman with long hair…
"That's Zondra!" Sarah exclaimed. "She tapped their cameras for us. We have to fucking go, right now!" She turned, grabbed an MP-5 and the laptop, then bolted for the door without looking back.
Carina jumped up and ran after her. "Wait, dammit! Wait for me!"
Chuck and Morgan careened through the streets, headed towards a warehouse that had popped up in one of the CIA feeds. They'd originally been heading to a hotel where the CATS team had been ordered to wait, but this tapped surveillance signal indicated someone was making an entry. And they were doing it alone. Chuck knew he still had a bit of a, perhaps outdated, sense of chivalry but he wasn't going to leave a fellow agent in the lurch like that. Especially one who thought she was on her own because of a traitor. They screamed around a corner in the 'borrowed' Land Cruiser, brushing up against a wall. "Morgan, we can't help them if we die."
"Chuck, who beats you nine times out of ten in Mario Kart?" Morgan said absently as he worked the gears.
"That's not the same thing!" Chuck shouted and winced. Then he glanced at his laptop. "Next left then straight on, three miles. Then we'll be in the warehouse district. We'll go in on foot from there."
Morgan, he could see, was pouting. "I still say I could have gotten us there faster in a chopper."
Chuck sighed, then yelped as they made the left turn. Barely. "Buddy, you've got maybe ten hours in total and the only bird at the airstrip was an ancient Huey. I didn't trust either of those things." There was a snort, but no other answer from his friend. Chuck looked ahead and decided things would be stable enough for a minute. Time to get his game face on. "I'm going to suit up. Keep it steady." Chuck said, then dropped his seat and slid into the back. He started putting on his gear and tried not to think about what might happen to the agent if they didn't get there in time.
Unbeknownst to either of them, Sarah and Carina were also careening through the streets, approaching from the opposite direction. She was at the wheel of their Jeep and Carina was shouting at her to slow down.
"Can't." Sarah said curtly. "We might already be too late, she was going in when we left."
"I can't get the feed back, it could have gone or we might just not have a good signal while we're moving." Carina said, her tone worried.
Sarah's jaw clenched. "Nothing we can do about that. We'll be there in a few more minutes, we'll take the Jeep right through the front door."
"Uh…" Carina started, then cleared her throat. "What?"
"We need a distraction to make an entrance. We can bail right before it hits, when it goes through they'll be shooting at the Jeep. Then we can go in." Sarah said as if it were no big deal.
Carina laughed uncomfortably. "Right. So we're going to die?"
"There's a chance of that, yes." Sarah replied. As plans went, it wasn't her finest but she'd been pressed for time.
The two men ghosted through the darkened warehouse district. Well, they tried to be 'ghosts'. Chuck had to admit, they were not as good as the people normally sent for this kind of work. Neither one had been on a track for fieldwork, but both had taken the extra training and done well hoping to be out in the world helping the field agents. Not stuck in a hole in Langley. They hadn't done as well as those same field agents, but well enough that they felt confident in their ability to remain unseen and to fight their way out of some cartel thugs if they got caught.
"Chuck." Morgan said, quietly as they approached the target building. "You know Graham said to stay away."
"Graham is telling me to go rogue in an off books operation where the only proof I'm still a white hat is his word." Chuck said, anger coloring his tone. "And he has the gall to tell me to stay away from Jenny. Fuck him. If he wants a rogue, he'll get one."
"You know how cool that sounds?" Morgan said excitedly. "The only thing we were missing is the self destructing message giving us the mission!"
Chuck laughed softly, the tension broken. "Yeah… it does sound pretty cool." His tone became serious as the rear of the warehouse came into sight. "OK, head around to that corner on the right. Keep an eye out. If you hear anything, pull back and find us a ride. Quiet won't matter anymore. I'll sneak in, see if I can find Rizzo and convince her wait for her team or some backup. If she's in a pickle, I'll try to give her an opening to get out." He looked at his friend and took a breath. "I know you're not a fan, but live rounds Morgs. We can't take any chances tonight."
Nodding and grimacing slightly, Morgan swapped his tranq pistol for his HK .45. He screwed a suppressor on and then smiled in dark humor. "Well at least the bang won't make me drop it this time." he said, and poked Chuck with his free hand.
Both of them shook their heads at the memory. Neither of them had been all that great with weapons and fighting at the start. It had taken quite a bit of patience on the part of the instructors. Morgan had, as he joked about, actually dropped the first gun he fired in training.
Chuck slapped his friend on the shoulder and took off in a crouching run, towards the warehouse's back door. He'd managed to clean up the feeds and had been surprised to notice that the cartel hadn't posted any guards outside. It seemed odd, but he'd take their lax procedures as a win.
Zondra should have known that Amy would set a trap for her. She'd seemed like a ditzy whore, but she'd been playing them all for months so she had to be at least competent. In hindsight, Zondra's reaction had been predictable. Of course she'd go after the nearest target and try to take some kind of action. So the entire warehouse had been a setup. The lack of external guards hadn't seemed too odd. Its not like it was some kind of military organization. So she'd not given it any thought as she tapped the cameras, sent the text to Walker, and made her way inside through a window she'd gently opened.
And once she'd gotten both feet firmly on the ground, she'd felt the twin impacts of a set of tazer prongs. When she came around, she found herself bound to a chair, in a back room where Amy and Gaez stood side by side. They were watching a set of monitors that had what looked to be overhead thermal imaging of the area. She could see the approaching pair from the rear of the building. The pattern didn't seem like her… well her former team. It looked more military, stiff and by the book. Without making any sound, and trying to keep her breathing slow and even, Zondra looked at the rest of the room. There were canisters of fuel stacked somewhat haphazardly around. Several of them appeared to have bursting charges attached. That… is not good. The full scale of the trap became clear. Amy intended on a clean sweep of the team and Gaez's operation. If Zondra hadn't texted Walker, she was certain Amy would have done something to attract attention.
The wildcard in this was the pair approaching the building. Who were they? Amy and Gaez seemed to be engaged in a low voiced discussion of that topic, trying to see if it changed anything. One of Gaez's men entered from a side door. Zondra glimpsed the warehouse outside the room. It was filled with a mix of crates and she could spot some bundles that seemed like drugs. So they're going to make it look as authentic as they can. Zondra listened, but the thug's Spanish was too fast for her so she concentrated on seeming like she was still out, and working on the tie binding her left hand to the chair behind her. It seemed to be loosening slightly, even if it was cutting her. That stings a bit. Worst case the blood will help me slip out.
It was right about then that she saw the large front doors of the warehouse burst open as an out of control Jeep Cherokee came flying through them in a thunderous crash. On the monitor she could see three men get crushed by the hurtling vehicle. It stopped, engine still screaming, in a pile of crates. An unfortunately flammable pile, as it ignited.
Amy cursed and grabbed Gaez by the upper arm. She dragged him to the other small door in the room and headed up a flight of stairs. She didn't look back at Zondra at all.
Zondra saw no need for subtlety as the guard had also fled. She began to wrench at her bonds and managed to snap the one on her left. The rest went quickly now that she had a free hand, and she got up and hesitated. She didn't have a phone anymore and she couldn't warn Walker and Miller. Plus they might still think she'd gone bad. So get out then and contact them later. Fire plus fuel plus explosives equals run, dumbass. She turned and ran to the rear entrance and was reaching for the door when it opened. She heard a distinctive tink noise and the world went white as she managed to get out two words. "Fuck me."
Chuck had been all about the silent entry, recon, find this agent, then get out. All of those thoughts went out of his head when he heard the great roaring crash from the front of the building. It seemed like someone was making an entrance, which was the CATS style. He didn't bother to look towards Morgan's position or say anything over the radio. Morgan would move now and try to grab them a ride. This meant he had to change up on the fly to see if he could take some of the pressure of the folks in the front. He pulled a flashbang from his vest and opened the door just a crack. Pulling the pin, he tossed it into the room and took cover in the door's shadow.
Then the world blew up.