A/N: Welcome back. We pick up here right where we left off in the last chapter. Some of you will be happy to hear that this is a very PG chapter.
There's a little homage to "Matchmaker" in this chapter, which is perhaps one of the most beloved fics in all of Chuckdom. I don't know if jwatkins was the first to use the line in Chuck FF, but he's the one I'm stealing it from, so attribution is required. If you catch it, drop me a line and let me know.
PIC = Pilot-in-Command
PIT = Pilot Instructor Training
Sarah leaned back in the chair, tilted her head back and closed her eyes. "Fuckfuckfuckfuck," she whispered.
She felt herself clenching and unclenching her fists as the Captain's resolution to her dilemma echoed in her head. This was not a solution she'd come close to considering, and it was absolutely not one she wanted to even think about, much less follow through with.
But the Captain was right. It would resolve their issue quite effectively, at least as it pertained to her authority over his group and other military resources she might need. Using them in live-fire situations on US soil was another matter, but theoretically her EO would cover that. Theoretically.
She heard his chair squeak and sighed as she glanced back at the Captain, who looked both amused and concerned.
"I take it that option never occurred to you?" the Captain asked.
"It did not," she replied. "Honestly, I feel kind of stupid. I'd sort of forgotten that direct commissions were a thing. It's not something I've encountered firsthand. Isn't it mostly used for inducting doctors or chaplains?"
"Yeah, but it's not limited to that," he explained. "It sounds like it's not an idea you're particularly keen on."
Sarah thought about it for a few more moments as she let her mind and body relax a little. Eventually she answered with a shrug and said, "Ultimately, it doesn't really matter if I'm keen on it or not. It's not about me. This is bigger than me. If this is what it will take to make my command of this Flight legitimate, then that's what I'll do. I'll do that before I do something that could affect the lives and careers of the airmen you've assembled here."
The Captain nodded approvingly. "I appreciate that. Speaking on behalf of the airmen downstairs, I'm sure they would appreciate it as well."
Sarah nodded and said, with a humorless smile, "You know, your timing on this is fucking sublime,"
"How so?"
"Director Graham and General Beckman aren't the only ones that I'm meeting with tomorrow. They are catching a ride with their boss's boss."
It took the Captain a couple seconds to do the math. He stood up so quickly, his chair fell over backwards and folded itself flat with a metallic clank.
"Holy shit!" he exclaimed. "Seriously?!"
It was Sarah's turn to be concerned and amused by the Captain's behavior. "Yep. I just found out myself about an hour ago. He wants to meet with me, I suppose so he can get a better handle on how we're going to deal with this threat we're facing."
The Captain started pacing again. "Jesus, I need to let everyone know to wear clean and freshly pressed ABUs tomorrow. A couple of guys will need to get haircuts. Hell, I need a haircut." He stopped and looked at her. "Is he going to press the flesh? Meet with some of the various units here?"
Sarah couldn't help but chuckle. "I honestly don't know, but I can't imagine that he wouldn't. From what I hear, he loves meeting with the troops when he can."
"Jesus, we just got here. This place is a mess," he gestured around the room and out the office window overlooking the hangar bay.
"Captain, it's fine. He's not going to care, hell I doubt he'll come all the way out here to this hangar. If he does meet with any of the various groups stationed here, I'm sure they'll have to come to wherever we are meeting."
The Captain gave her an almost pleading look and asked, "You're not kidding? The President is coming here, to Edwards?" Sarah nodded. "Do you know how nuts that is? How are you so freaking calm?"
Sarah had long since stopped being impressed by elected officials. She'd met more than a few in her career and with some exceptions, she found them to be arrogant, morally bankrupt blowhards, concerned only with the acquisition of power, with no real desire to understand or help the people they represented. It seemed to her that the higher the office, the more this held true.
She'd met the current President briefly a few years earlier when she'd been seconded to the Secret Service for a period of time. Back when the mystique of great power still held some minor fascination for her. She'd left the encounter deeply disappointed.
It became clear in just a few minutes that the man was a buffoon who had risen to power through the combination of a politically connected family dynasty, and a lot of pure unadulterated luck. She took solace from the fact that the President was not nearly as powerful a figure as most people believed. She left the room grateful in the knowledge that she couldn't be assigned to his detail. If it came down to it, she'd take a bullet for the office, but she wouldn't cross the street for the man who held it.
And now she'd have to stand in front of him while he read the commission statement and made her an officer of the United States Air Force. Chuck might just have an aneurism when he found out.
She shrugged at the Captain again. "I've met a lot of people in high political office during my career. It no longer impresses me."
That Captain was obviously not satisfied with her response. "This isn't just any political office though! This is the President of the United States! This is a big deal!"
She simply shrugged at him once more. She was honestly not at all concerned about meeting with the President. She was very concerned about meeting with the General.
The Captain was obviously in a minor state of distress so she interrupted him before he could spiral further into his anxiety regarding the impending visit of the commander-in-chief.
"Hey, I looked at your jacket and it said you completed PIT last year?" she said as she stood up. She picked up her chair, folded it and put it back against the wall.
It took the Captain a moment to switch gears from their previous topic. "Uh, yeah, why?"
"My certification for the UH-60 expired last year. I was hoping you could recertify me."
"Wait, what? You have flight training?" The Captain was obviously very surprised.
"Yes, and don't ask," she said. "Because I guarantee you, the answer is, 'it's classified'."
"Ah, shit," the Captain groaned as he picked up his chair and set it against the wall. "I'm an idiot. I should have realized it when you mentioned Director Graham but I was distracted by what you said about General Beckman. You're not FBI. You're a damn spook!"
Sarah looked sternly at the Captain and said, "I can assure you, Captain. I am absolutely an FBI agent. The SAIC of the LA office will confirm it for you."
"How long have you been an FBI agent?"
"About a week and a half," she answered.
"What were you two weeks ago?"
They both said, "It's classified," at the same time and Sarah gave him another shrug.
The Captain shook his head and sighed but didn't really seem too concerned about her career history.
"Yeah, I can recertify you. We'll have to schedule it, but we can go up for a bit today if you have the time. Do a quick refresher."
"I'd like that," Sarah admitted.
"Ok. But first I want some damn tacos."
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Sarah had sent a message to General Wallace's aide that morning, informing him of when the food trucks would be arriving and asking for appropriate tables and chairs to be sent over. She also inquired as to the General's offer to stop by and was informed that he would be there to meet with her group during their lunch.
As the two of them left the office, Sarah noticed that the quartermaster's office had delivered a number of folding tables and chairs so the crew would have a place to sit and eat.
After the Captain introduced her to the other officers, Sarah let herself fade into the background a little and simply enjoyed observing the camaraderie between the more than thirty enlisted men and women among the group. Most of them were in their early twenties, though there were a few that she wondered if they were even old enough to drink. At the other end of the spectrum, some of the more senior enlisted weren't all that much younger than her, but she knew there was more that separated them than just time. There was a distance beyond the measure of mere weeks or months.
When they'd been learning long division in elementary school, she'd been learning to pick pockets and appraise the items she absconded with. When they'd been passing notes in junior high, she'd been running three-card monte and fake lottery ticket scams. When they were trying out for the high school production of Hamlet, she was already an experienced grifter, running complex cons and playing multiple roles, changing names and personalities like they changed clothes.
When they were maybe looking at a choice between college or the military to map out their future, she was a CIA NOC, a field agent with blood already in her file and more yet to come.
She wasn't really saddened or upset by the disparity in their lives, but it did highlight the gulf that separated them from her, beyond the sometimes negligible difference in age.
After a few minutes, everyone was seated and eating. Mostly young men, but also a few young women, talking amiably, some groups even a little boisterously, enjoying their free lunch and a moment to unwind from the hectic process of relocating to a new base.
Everyone noticed when a dusty Humvee pulled up near the hangar doors, just inside the flight line. General Wallace got out of the passenger side and his aide de camp got out of the driver's side.
Captain Dunham stood up quickly and shouted, "Attention!"
The conversation immediately stopped as everyone jumped up from their seats and quickly came to attention. Sarah stood up with them but stood more at ease than at attention.
"As you were everyone," the General said as he walked into the hangar, motioning with his hands for everyone to be seated. "I heard Emilio's Taco trucks were going to be here and I couldn't resist."
There were a few polite chuckles at his comment, but everyone knew he was there to meet with the officers and their mysterious new civilian commander. True to his word, he and his aide went out to the taco trucks and ordered meals the same as everyone else, then came back and sat with Sarah and the other officers, whose table had been situated a noticeable distance from the others. The general sat at the head of the table, while his aide took up a position at the other end and didn't seem overly concerned with the conversation as he focused on his lunch. His inattentiveness struck Sarah as a little odd.
As he ate, the General talked to the group, his voice low but firm. "I wanted to let you men and women know that I got a call from an old friend of mine this morning," he said as he took a moment to look around at each of the eight officers at the table. "He's an old friend, but he's also all our bosses."
It didn't take long for the officers to understand what he meant and everyone froze in their seats for several moments. The General gave them a minute before he continued, taking a few bites as he let the seriousness of the conversation settle over the officers.
"He told me a couple of interesting things. The first thing he said was that he couldn't get into much detail about what's going on, but he told me that it was important. Vitally important. We're all familiar with how that works and while it can be frustrating to be kept in the dark, rest assured they keep these secrets to save lives. I know all of you understand that." There were nods and quiet voices expressing agreement.
"He also told me that after meeting with the people at the very top of the food chain about what's going on, he believes there is no one more qualified than Agent Walker here to be leading the group that's working to resolve this problem we're facing. I expect you all to consider her a senior officer in your chain of command."
Sarah kept her game face on and ignored her discomfort at the overawed looks some of the officers started casting at her. She knew it was important that they trust in her leadership and now was not the time for misplaced humility. She needed that aura of quiet confidence that had so impressed Detective Garcia. She was the reason they were all there so she quietly nodded her acceptance to the looks she was getting. After a few moments, everyone continued with their meals in mostly silent contemplation.
As they were wrapping up their meal, the General spoke up again. "And keep this all amongst the officers here, but that friend I mentioned will be here tomorrow. I know you officers take your readiness seriously, but tomorrow is not the day to wear your old ABUs. Look sharp and be on your game. Don't tell them why but pass the word among the enlisted as well."
The Captain nodded his assent. "Of course, General. We'll make sure everyone is prepared. I know you've probably got a busy day, but before you leave, do you have a quick minute? Agent Walker and I had a conversation earlier and I wanted to run something by you."
"Why don't the two of you walk me out," the General offered.
The three of them stood up, along with the General's aide, and after discarding the remnants of their lunch, made their way towards the General's Humvee. He told his aide to wait in the vehicle as the three of them stepped off to the side and continued their conversation in hushed voices.
"What's on your mind, Captain?" the General asked.
The Captain gave Sarah a questioning look and after a brief hesitation, she nodded resignedly.
"Sir, as I'm sure you're aware, Agent Walker's civilian status has implications for us that are hard to ignore. I know some of the men have concerns, as do I."
"Captain, Agent Walker is operating under the highest authority-"
"She showed me the EO, sir. I understand her authority," the Captain risked being chastised for interrupting the General, but pushed ahead. "But that EO doesn't change the fact that she's still a civilian."
The General nodded and said, "I know, Captain. It's an unusual situation, but I'm sure we'll figure out a way to legitimize her command of your Flight."
Sarah felt it was time to back the Captain up. "The Captain already had an idea to do just that, General."
"Is that so?" The General gave the Captain a questioning look and Sarah motioned for him to share his idea.
"Sir, with the President coming here tomorrow, it just makes sense. He could offer Agent Walker a direct commission. It's an unusual, maybe even an extraordinary step, but from what I understand, we're facing an extraordinary threat."
The General seemed a little taken aback by the idea but after a few moments he looked at each of them in turn. "It's an interesting proposal, Captain. What are your thoughts on this, Agent Walker?"
The truth was that Sarah was struggling to come to terms with the idea. The more she thought about it, the less she wanted it. At that moment, she was actually feeling a little overwhelmed and found her thoughts going to Chuck. Even being physically separated from him, she could feel his support, his belief in her. She knew, with his help, she could handle this.
"Honestly, sir, while I understand the reasoning, it's not something I want. At all," she admitted. "But if it means protecting the men and women in there, I'll do it. I'll accept the responsibility." She gestured to the enlisted airmen who were cleaning up after their lunch, putting away the chairs and tables and getting back to their work.
"Why don't you want it?" the General asked.
"Because I haven't earned it, Sir," Sarah admitted after a moment, surprising herself. "It's only necessary as a bureaucratic loop-hole; an end-run around a hundred-thirty year old law. It feels like it diminishes the sacrifices that each of you have had to make to earn your rank."
The General nodded thoughtfully while the Captain gave her an appraising look she wasn't sure how to interpret. "Ok, Captain. I think your idea has merit. Well done, thinking outside the box."
"Thank you, Sir," the Captain said.
"Give Agent Walker and I a moment, please, Captain."
"Of course, Sir." The Captain stepped back and gave the General a crisp salute before he left, which the General returned. Sarah realized that she might soon be in a position to salute as well and the idea made her want to laugh at the utter lunacy that was her life.
"I appreciate your concerns regarding the need to earn the authority that comes with rank, Agent Walker, but just so you know, direct commissioning of officers is actually not that uncommon."
"I didn't even remember it existed until after the Captain mentioned it to me this morning, Sir. I have no idea how or when it's utilized as a function of military process."
"We often find we have knowledge shortfalls, new areas of expertise where we have to actively recruit or just areas where it's hard to compete with the private sector. When this happens, a direct commission is usually necessary to entice civilian workers to join our ranks."
Sarah nodded her understanding. "Of course."
"I'm telling you this because I also acknowledge your concern for the sacrifices that officers have to make in order to advance in the military. As it pertains to your career, I'm sure you've had to make any number of sacrifices in your own life. Am I wrong in that assumption?"
"No, Sir."
"So tomorrow I'm going to talk to the President about this. Given that he's already imbued you with more authority than I've ever before encountered, I don't think it's a stretch to imagine he'll agree. So, just be prepared."
Sarah nodded and gave the General a weak smile. "Yes, Sir."
"Have a good afternoon, Agent Walker. I'll see you tomorrow morning."
"Thank you, Sir."
The General walked back to his Humvee as Sarah went back into the hangar to find Captain Dunham. She was hoping they could take a quick flight before she had to head back to LA.
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After finding Sarah an appropriately sized flight suit, she and Captain Dunham walked out to the flight line towards the same helicopter she'd seen him arrive in.
"This is primarily my bird, but we do switch off occasionally just to keep things interesting. I'll have you start with a basic DI," the Captain said, indicating he wanted her to do a baseline daily inspection.
Sarah nodded. "So, first things first, it looks like your ground crew has already cleaned all the bugs off the windscreen. It's not yet set up for overnight storage so I don't have to worry about the blade tie-downs or intake and exhaust covers, so I'll jump right into it."
She opened the cover to a side storage hatch and found what she expected, which was some cleaning supplies in a bag. She pulled a few paper towels off a roll, and started the inspection. It was primarily a visual inspection, starting with the wheels and landing gear, but she also used a ladder to climb up on the aircraft, opened various access panels to check various flight controls, checking bolts on mechanical components to make sure all the split-pins were intact, verifying witness marks, grasping and shaking various control rods to make sure there wasn't too much play, looking for leaks and checking various fluid levels, looking for frayed wires or loose electrical connections, looking for cracks in welds. As she went, she would use the paper towel to wipe things down but it proved unnecessary, as except for a little dust, everything was spotlessly clean.
She explained what she was doing as she went, almost as if she were teaching someone else how to do an inspection. By the time she finished, the paper towels she'd used were barely dirty.
After the inspection was complete, the Captain simply nodded at her and said, "Well done. Very thorough. Jump in and we'll go through a blind startup procedure.
"Roger that," she replied. It had been a while since she'd flown a black hawk, but she was certain she remembered all the steps. She knew the avionics had an actual step-by-step startup guide, but the Captain indicated he wanted to do a blind startup which meant she'd have to walk through the process without the benefit of the guide.
After they climbed into the cockpit, Sarah did a quick inspection to make sure that the layout for everything matched the version of the Black Hawk she'd trained on, and was happy to see that everything was where she remembered.
"Ok, generator 1 on, generator 2 on, battery 1 on, battery 2 on." She mimed flicking the appropriate switches but didn't actually turn them on. If she had, it would have powered up a display near her left knee that had a startup checklist. She next needed to engage the Auxiliary Power Unit which would power up all the electronics and avionics in the aircraft, as well as provide the power necessary to start the engines.
"Fuel pump to APU, APU control to on, APU gen to on, standby instrument to on," she mimed flipping the appropriate switches, all of which to this point had been on the ceiling above her left shoulder.
"Confirmation of standby instrument power, confirm equilibrium of fuel tanks," she tapped the appropriate screens to indicate she knew where to look for those items, though the screens were still dark.
"Now moving to engine startup. Set ignition switch to on." She mimed turning an actual ignition key in the center of the console, similar to a car ignition.
"Set air source HT-start to APU." The Auxiliary Power Unit would provide the initial blast of air necessary for the jet engines to begin the fuel combustion process.
She moved her hand up to a grouping of four levers located at the top of the windscreen directly between the two seats. These levers controlled the fuel delivery and engine modes, along with two buttons to actually power up each of the General Electric T700 jet engines.
"Engine one fuel to direct, engage engine start and confirm, on confirm set engine one to idle, wait for idle spool, then set engine one to fly. Engine 2 fuel to direct, push engine start and confirm, set engine one to idle, wait for idle spool then set engine to fly." Once the engines were actually running, the APU would no longer be needed.
"Set APU control to off, Air source to fly. Wait for RPM to reach target. Clear to fly." She looked at the Captain expectantly and he nodded at her.
"Again, well done. It does, in fact, seem like you've done this before."
"Like I mentioned to Sergeant Domingo, I've got just under 400 hours PIC on the UH-60. I actually like flying Eggs better but I missed my certification exam on that one and never had the opportunity to reschedule. That's why I have so many hours on Black Hawks. That's what I would fly when the need arose. From there my flight training focused on fixed wing and instrument."
"Well, depending on how long this assignment lasts, I can get you certified on the MH-6 as well. Can't hurt to have another pilot available in a pinch. And pretty much everyone likes flying the Eggs better. It's like driving a Ferrari compared to driving a damn bus."
Sarah chuckled at his comment, which wasn't wrong. The black hawk weighed as much as two Humvees whereas the MH-6 weighed less than a compact car. "I'd love to get certified on the MH-6 if I can find the time. I kind of have a lot on my plate at the moment," She smiled wryly at the understatement.
"I hear that," he replied. "Ok, so go ahead and run through the startup procedure for real this time and we'll go for a quick spin." They both donned the helmets with integrated radios that were hanging next to each seat and Sarah completed the startup.
Once the RPMs got up to speed, the Captain thumbed his microphone and said, "Edwards tower, Paladin flight alpha-zero-niner-seven."
After a moment they heard, "Go Paladin flight."
"Clearance for training run, departure 6-delta north, ceiling five-zero, radius five-miles north by northwest, VFR."
A few seconds later the tower responded, "Paladin flight, you are clear for training run, 6-delta north, ceiling five-zero, radius five-miles north by northwest, VFR. Good luck."
"Roger tower."
Sarah glared at the Captain but there was no heat in it. "Training run? Really?"
The Captain laughed, "Hey, I have no idea what your skill set is. We're in a ten-million-dollar Cuisinart. For all I know, these are my last moments on earth."
"Yeah, they might be, but it won't be because of my flight skills," Sarah retorted, getting a genuine laugh in return. She realized that she liked the Captain, but it was a completely a-sexual feeling, totally platonic. She realized she had similar feelings of purely friendly affection for Awesome. She wondered if she could afford to have Captain Dunham as a friend seeing as she might need to order him into dangerous situations. She pushed the thought aside as she focused on the flight controls.
She remembered when they had dropped Ellie and Awesome off at the airport, they'd been watching them leave in the helicopter. She had admitted that she could fly it, but it would probably take her a few minutes to get back into the groove. She knew that would not be true in this particular helicopter.
There had been a moment in her flight training where the controls just seemed to click in her mind. Up to that point it felt like she had been a step behind in how the aircraft responded to her input. With helicopters, any adjustment to one control input would often have secondary effects that would need to be countered with a different control.
For example, increasing the pitch of the main blades resulted in increased torque pressure on the frame of the aircraft, causing it to rotate. This tendency to rotate needed to be countered with the tail rotor which was controlled with the foot pedals. It was about anticipating those necessary adjustments and performing them a split second before they were needed. Almost as soon as she climbed into the cockpit, she once again felt that click in her mind and instinctively knew she wouldn't have any trouble.
She pulled up on the collective lever with her left hand, which increased the pitch of the main blades. She simultaneously twisted the throttle on the collective to maintain blade RPM, which would naturally slow down due to the increased drag. The increase in blade pitch increased the downforce and the helicopter responded by lifting off the ground. As they lifted, she used the foot pedals to control the rotation of the aircraft, keeping it dead on center. She used the cyclic stick to keep a neutral attitude, maintaining an almost perfect hover as they quickly lifted higher off the ground.
When they got to about one hundred feet directly above the flight line, she adjusted the collective and throttle to level off, maintaining altitude and RPM. She then went through a series of training drills where she rotated the craft a full circle in precise 90-degree increments, first clockwise, then counterclockwise, all while maintaining a stable hover. She then flew the aircraft perfectly sideways for about one hundred feet, rotated and repeated the process again.
The Captain nodded, obviously impressed. It was a drill that even experienced pilots sometimes had trouble with. Of course, she apparently was an experienced pilot. "Impressive, Agent Walker."
Sarah grinned, not so much at his compliment, but just at the sheer joy she felt flying. She couldn't wait for an opportunity to bring Chuck up with her.
"Thanks," she replied. "By the way, my call sign is Wildcard."
He chuckled and said. "Ok, Wildcard, enough with the drills. Stay under five-zero feet and show me what you've got."
Sarah managed not to squeal with delight, but her grin got even wider as she pulled up firmly on the collective, twisted the throttle, pushed the cyclic forward, and adjusted the tail rotor to point the aircraft northwest.
"Jesus!" the Captain barked, grabbing his oh-shit handle as the chopper tilted sideways then shot forwards and upwards while tail end swung around to the new heading. Moving rapidly in all three X-Y-Z axis at the same time tended to mess with the middle-ear, not to mention toss the stomach around. And he had just eaten after all.
They were in the air less than an hour, but Sarah took full advantage, putting the helicopter through its paces and skirting the limits of what it was capable of. It was not something she'd often had the opportunity to do in the past. Before she had met Chuck, she would have said it was better than sex.
While she was flying, the Captain quizzed her on various emergency scenarios, which she answered quickly and skillfully, having actually had to deal with more than a couple of them on past missions. She was a little disappointed she couldn't share any of those stories with him as they were all classified.
As they were winding down and heading back to base, she asked, "How did you come to choose the name 'Paladin' for the Flight group?"
He gave her what she thought was a bit of a self-conscious look and said, "Well, I could tell you that I'm a history buff and that I liked what I learned about them in college. That I was fascinated with the story of the twelve knights of Charlemagne's court, and their links to Arthurian legend."
"The death of Roland? The Battle of Roncevaux Pass?" Sarah asked with a smile. She'd enjoyed that part of a Medieval History class as well.
The Captain laughed and nodded. "Yeah, but the truth is that I didn't know any of that shit until later. I was into Paladins before college." He paused for a moment and she could tell he was a little embarrassed.
"Spit it out, Captain," she insisted.
"Damn, OK! If you must know, I was a total D and D nerd in high school, and I always liked playing a Paladin. I liked the idea of being a 'Crusader for Justice'. When I later learned that Paladins were actually a thing from twelfth century medieval Europe, I was fascinated. The stories are highly romanticized, but I still loved it."
Sarah couldn't help but chuckle. She wasn't sure what he meant by D and D or how you could 'play' a Paladin, but the nerd part she understood. "I think you'd get along famously with my boyfriend," she admitted.
"Yeah? He was a big nerd in high school too?"
Sarah burst out laughing. "Oh, I'm sure he was, but he's still a giant nerd even now. Comic book nerd, science fiction nerd, computer nerd. You name it, if it's nerdy, he's involved." She gave him a pointed look. "He's got me watching Firefly."
"No shit? I fucking love that show!" he exclaimed as he clapped his leg with excitement. "Good for you, Agent Walker!"
She gave him a questioning look. "Good for me?" she inquired.
"Yeah, for being the girl who got the nerd." He gave her a big smile and held his hand up as he thumbed his wedding band. "It's what my wife often says when I ask her why she's with a lowly stick-monkey like me. I'll never be rich and I'll never be famous, but I love what I do."
Sarah smiled and thought it was perfectly appropriate. The girl who got the nerd. "I think I'd get along pretty well with your wife, Captain Dunham."
For the landing, she brought it in slow and easy, having no desire to embarrass herself with the ground crew, or have it look like she was trying to show off.
"Yeah, I don't think you have anything to worry about in regards to your recertification, Wildcard," the Captain said with a chuckle as she started the shut-down procedures.
Sarah grinned at him in response. "I can't tell you how much I've missed that," she confessed. "Thank you for letting me do this."
He pulled his helmet off and nodded. "It was my pleasure. Honestly, Agent Walker, I think you missed your calling. You're as natural at this as anyone I've ever seen."
"Thanks Captain. I appreciate that. Now you and I need to go over what I need from the group tomorrow. Let's head up to that office. I've only got about an hour or so before I need to head back to LA so we need to do some quick and dirty planning."
"Sounds good," the Captain replied.
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Sarah arrived home a few minutes after Chuck. No matter what speed her vehicle was capable of, she was as subject to the flow of traffic - or lack thereof - as anyone. After her planning session with the Captain, an idea occurred to her which required a call to the Major in charge of all the security forces personnel on the base, which took up more of her time.
As she walked into their apartment, she saw Chuck sitting out on the deck and wandered out to join him.
"Hey, sweetie," he said with a smile when he saw her.
"Hey, baby," she replied.
There was a cool breeze blowing in from the northwest, so rather than sit in her own chair, she decided to sit in the chaise lounge chair that Chuck was already occupying. He put his feet down and she slid between his legs, leaning back into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her as she settled back with a sigh. They had about an hour before they had to meet the full team along with Coburn at the restaurant.
"Did you have a good day out at Edwards with your chopper-jockeys?"
"It was a great day," she admitted. "I wish you could have been there, Chuck. Captain Dunham, the one in charge of the unit, took me up in a Black Hawk today for about an hour. It was so much fun!"
"Oh my god, that would have been so insanely cool. Did you get to fly?"
She nodded enthusiastically. "Yep, I was pilot-in-command the whole time. I had almost forgotten how much I love it."
"I still don't know if I can wrap my head around the fact that you can fly a helicopter. You're seriously on a whole other level, you know that?"
She slapped his leg and said, "Yeah, says the guy who casually hacked the CIA from the storage area of a Buy More. Chuck, the government spent literally millions of dollars training me, teaching me all these things for months on end. Lots of people could do the things I can do if they had those kinds of resources to prop them up. But you taught yourself how to do the things you can do. If anyone is on another level here, it's you."
"Ok, fine, we're both on another level. I don't care as long as those levels are close enough for me to keep holding you like this." He gave her a squeeze to emphasize his point.
She grinned as she took one of his hands, pulled her sweater up and tucked his hand under it, placing it over her bra, on top of her breast. She pulled the sweater back down to cover his arm as he chuckled.
"As much as I hate to say it, I don't think we have time to fool around right now, Sarah."
"I know. I just want your hand closer to my skin." She was shocked when he deftly unclasped her bra and pushed it aside, sliding his hand up to fully cup her breast, with no obstruction.
"Pretty dexterous hands you've got there Mr. Bartowski. I had forgotten it was a front clasp," she purred softly.
"I make it my business to know how to get your underwear off you as quickly as possible," he observed, earning a throaty laugh.
She sighed deeply and snuggled into him even further, enjoying the warmth of his hand on her and the feeling of being close to him. She would have been perfectly content staying there with him for hours. After a long comfortable silence spent just holding each other, she remembered what Captain Dunham had said about being a nerd.
"Chuck, what's D and D?"
"Um, well, I have no idea what context you're asking from, but the first thing that comes to mind is Dungeons and Dragons."
She tilted her head back a little so she could look at him. "What the hell is Dungeons and Dragons?"
He chuckled softly and said, "It's a role-playing game where people can play different types of characters, like wizards or fighters. There's one person in the game who acts as the sort of storyteller and referee, called the game master or dungeon master; he directs the story, the adventure that the characters go on. He has to figure out who the characters are going to interact with, who they're going to fight and manage all the encounters that the players have in the game."
"Is it a video game?"
"No, no, it's a tabletop game. You mostly play with just a pencil, paper and a range of different sided dice. And some kind of map to keep track of where the players are."
"Huh," she replied. "And would a Paladin be one of the characters that somebody could play?"
"Sure. A pretty popular one actually. They are like the Holy Warriors of the game. They start out basically like fighters using just a sword, but as they level up they start to be able to use magic that's given to them from whatever deity they happen to follow."
"Did you play Dungeons and Dragons?" she asked with a grin.
Chuck laughed. "Hopefully it's not a nerd bridge too far to admit this, but yes. I actually played a lot of D and D in high school and at Stanford as well. Our frat had a game that would play every couple of weeks. Bryce played too. He even Dungeon Mastered a few times."
Sarah settled back into Chuck's arms and said, "Sometimes I feel like there's a whole world of things I missed out on. This Dungeons and Dragons thing sounds a little silly to me right now, but I think it might have been fun to do something like that when I was a kid."
"It's not just for kids. It's gone through a lot of revisions, but it's been around since the mid-seventies. All the kids who played it then have grown up, and a lot of them still like to play. I could see myself playing it now if I had the time. It is a lot of fun, but there was also a pretty serious stigma associated with it in high school. Only the really serious nerds ever admitted to playing and we were often ridiculed for it."
Sarah scoffed. "That's just plain dumb. It's a game like any other. How is it different from fantasy football?"
She felt Chuck squeeze her a little harder and kiss the side of her head. "I'm feeling peak love for you right now Sarah Walker, and it has nothing to do with my hand on your boob. Your awesomeness is eclipsing even Captain Awesome at this moment, I'll have you know."
She chuckled and patted his arm. "I love you too, nerd-boy."
"But I have to ask, where did this question come from?"
Sarah smiled and said, "Captain Dunham named the unit 'Paladin' and I asked where he came up with it. He admitted to me that he was a D&D nerd in high school. I guess he would play a Paladin when he played D and D."
"So he's a bad-ass Air Force chopper pilot and he's also a D&D nerd as well. I'm betting he's probably also a bit of a science nerd because there's lots of cool science around helicopters. How could he not be, right?" Chuck observed.
"Sure," Sarah admitted. "And he's got pretty well developed problem-solving skills as well. He came up with a solution to my concern about actually having the authority to command the flight."
"Yeah? What was his idea?"
She twisted her head to look at him and asked, "To borrow a phrase you seem to be fond of, can we put a pin in that? As comfortable as I am right now, we should probably head to the restaurant. We don't want to be late. We can talk about it tonight after dinner, OK?"
"Sure," he agreed. "But can you just tell me if it's a good thing? This solution the Captain came up with?"
Sarah chuckled as she sat up and reluctantly pulled his arm out of her sweater, then clasped her bra. "I'm sure you'll think it's the coolest thing ever, but I'm still on the fence about it."
Chuck grinned. "Well, if I will think it's the coolest thing ever, then it can't be bad."
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On their way to the restaurant, Sarah received a text from Coburn indicating he would be a few minutes late. When they arrived, they found that Carina had booked them a private dining room for the evening and she was already there with Bryce and their two new additions to the team.
Sarah was impressed with the room, which was a decent size and had a long table with room for about twenty people. The walls were covered in dark oak paneling and had several large prints of random historical figures and rustic landscapes. There were two heavy doors into the room that when closed, blocked out the vast majority of sounds from the main dining area of the restaurant. She knew that Carina had scanned the room for listening devices so she felt safe to go into a little detail, but not too much.
She closed the door behind her and said, "Good evening, everyone."
"Hey Sarah. Nice outfit," Carina observed with a smile. "Very assassin chic."
Sarah scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Shut up, Carina," she said, but with a grin.
She looked at Detective Garcia, or rather now Special Agent Garcia who was sitting on the far side of the long table. She had her hair down and it shimmered in the light, soft black waves cascading over her shoulders. She had very understated makeup on and Sarah thought she looked stunning.
"Veronica, it's great to see you again." Sarah held out her hand and the other woman shook it firmly, a friendly smile on her features.
"Now that I'm officially on the team, I can tell you that everyone calls me Ronnie. And it's good to see you as well, Agent Walker," she replied.
"When it's just the team together, feel free to call me Sarah. I want to keep things less formal when it's just us."
Her smile widened slightly. "Ok.. Sarah."
Sarah focused her attention on the man sitting next to Veronica and held her hand out to him as well.
"You must be Michael Washington."
"Mike. Yes, ma'am. It's a pleasure to meet you face-to-face," he replied. His voice was a smooth baritone, and he was strikingly handsome with green eyes, a dark complexion and his hair styled in rows of very tight braids running back across his scalp. It occurred to her the group she had assembled was entirely too pretty. From a covert surveillance standpoint, they all stood out in one way or another and would be easy to remember if they were spotted. All the more reason to not be spotted.
She pulled her bag off her shoulder, took off her jacket and sat down at the head of the long table. Carina and Bryce were on her right with the two new additions sitting across from them on her left. Chuck took a seat next to Bryce and the two exchanged fist bumps. He extended his hand across the table and introduced himself to the new members.
"I'm Chuck," he said with one of his brilliant smiles. "I'm the technical support and analyst for the team."
Sarah noticed that Ronnie's smile ratcheted up a few watts as she shook Chuck's hand and she had to suppress a frown. Though she had to admit that he looked particularly good in his black jeans and yellow button down shirt picking up the gold flecks in his eyes.
"Ronnie. Nice to meet you, Chuck," she replied. "So you're the guy in the van that we never got to meet at the SSMC takedown?"
Chuck's grin got a fraction wider as he said, "I can neither confirm nor deny my presence in any van at that time."
Everyone chuckled at Chuck's joke and it served to lighten things up a little.
"Good to meet you, Chuck," Mike said as they shook hands.
Sarah gave them a moment to get settled as she pulled a couple of folders out of her bag. She handed them down to the detectives as she spoke.
"We need to get this part out of the way first. Inside those folders are some documents you need to read and sign before we proceed. National security documents, non-disclosure documents, security clearance forms and the like. There are two copies of everything so you can keep one for your records. I need the signed copies back before we can start with the discussions we need to have." She held up a couple of pens, one of which Ronnie took, but Mike pulled his own out of his inside jacket pocket. Sarah noticed it was a very thick metal tactical pen, of the type that could be used to break windows, or as a pretty effective jabbing weapon.
While they were filling out and signing the forms, Coburn walked in.
"Hey, Coburn, glad you could make time to join us tonight," Sarah said.
"No problem," he replied. "Sorry I'm late. There was a delay getting the ID's ready for the new guys here." He motioned to the two detectives, who both looked a little surprised. He handed a large manila envelope to Sarah.
"We're getting FBI credentials?" Mike asked.
"Of course," Coburn said. "It's an FBI task force."
Veronica looked up at Coburn and Sarah saw recognition dawn on her.
"Wait, you're the SAIC of the LA FBI field office!" she exclaimed, obviously surprised. "You gave a lecture on preventing recidivism of non-violent offenders at the Chiefs of Police annual conference earlier this year."
Coburn gave her polite nod. "Yeah. Since it was being held in LA, the conference committee asked me to speak."
"That was a good speech. I've heard rumors that LAPD might be instituting a pilot program soon."
Coburn just grunted and nodded.
Mike looked back and forth between Sarah and Coburn and held his pen up to get their attention.
"You have a question, Mike?" Sarah asked.
"Yeah, I guess I just want to get the lay of the land here a little. Who's actually in charge of this group?"
Coburn took it upon himself to answer. "Agent Walker is the leader of the task force and she does not report to me. The task force is a stand-alone entity formed within the FBI to give it federal investigative authority. I am not assigned to the task force, though I'm read-in on the project and I understand what the directives are. I'm here as a resource. That's it. You likely won't see me very often."
Mike nodded. "Ok, thanks, that clears that up."
The group talked quietly while Ronnie and Mike continued filling out forms until Ronnie spoke up.
"Wait, is this right? It says here I'm actually going on the payroll at the GS-12, step five level?"
Sarah nodded. "Yes, that's correct. Putting you guys on the payroll was really just the easiest way to compensate you for all the overtime you're going to be working."
Ronnie looked shocked. "So, in addition to our LAPD salary, we're also going to be making like another sixty-five-hundred per month?"
"Well, you are because you're coming in as a Detective 2. Mike, as a Detective 1, will be at GS-11, step five."
While looking at the document that outlined his payroll, Mike said, "Damn. That's still more than two-thirds of my existing salary."
Sarah wanted to clarify her position on their pay. "I don't know if you remember Carina's spiel last Monday, but we specifically didn't want to talk about earning potential here. We needed people who genuinely want to do the work. Certainly, you're going to get paid for your time, but no one's first thought about going into law enforcement is how lucrative it is."
"And guys, just like I told you in your interviews, you're going to earn it," Carina added.
Ronnie looked at Mike with a smile and asked, "How many times did she ask you if you were up for the time commitment?"
"I lost count," he admitted with a grin.
Carina gave a grunt Coburn would be proud of and said, "Shut up and finish filling out your forms so we can eat." Her voice was gruff but her amused expression gave away her intent.
Everyone laughed as the two of them returned to their respective paperwork. Before too much longer they both handed the signed documents back to Sarah and Carina called the waitstaff in so they could place their orders. They moved through their meals quickly so they could get to the important conversations as the two detectives were obviously excited to learn about their new roles. Before she started speaking, Sarah gave the two of them very intent looks to make sure she had their undivided attention.
"My goal for tonight was not only to have you complete that paperwork but also give the two of you an opportunity to meet the full team at once. I'm going to give you some broad strokes to start with, but I don't want to go into too much detail or we'll be here all night. But before we get into that, do you guys have any questions for me or for any of us?"
The two detectives shared a look and then laughed. Mike was the first one who spoke up. "We have about a thousand questions," he confessed with a chuckle. "You guys created quite an uproar in Vice this past week."
She shared a look with Carina who just shrugged.
"I can imagine," Sarah admitted.
Mike chuckled and nodded at Coburn. "No offense meant to your organization, Agent Coburn, but I'm sure you can admit that LAPD's relationship with the feds can often be described as less than cordial. But then you guys came out of nowhere Saturday morning with the SSMC takedown and instead of a lot of posturing about federal jurisdiction, you just handed it to us wrapped in a pretty bow. That alone would have had tongues wagging for weeks. Then the two of you come into our roll-call on Monday morning and tell us you're looking for people to join that team? I can tell you, I got a lot of green-eyed monster looks from some of the guys when I told them I was selected. I immediately called Ronnie to tell her."
Carina asked, "How did you know Ronnie had been selected?"
Mike glanced at Ronnie and smiled at her slightly embarrassed look. "Everyone knew she was a shoe-in. She's by far the best detective in Vice. We all knew she would apply and we all knew she'd be selected, no question. If you hadn't selected her, your stock would have dropped significantly within the department."
Ronnie seemed like she'd had enough. "Ok, stop with the Detective Garcia fan club," she grumbled, punching him in the arm. "Yeah, he called me and the two of us basically just gossiped for a while and tried to guess at what this task force is all about. I asked Captain Bell if she'd ever heard about anything like this in the past and she said no. And that woman has been there and done that."
Sarah shared another look with Carina, who grinned back at her.
"Yeah, we met with Captain Bell Monday morning right before roll-call. Let's just say we're not going on her Christmas card list anytime soon." Sarah observed wryly. "So, now that we're here, Ronnie, I can tell you that you had it right in your interview. This is a national security issue. This task force was formed by Executive Order and has a very specific mandate. Like I mentioned before, I don't want to get too deep into the weeds tonight. I'm going to ask you to be patient with getting answers to some of your questions." The two detectives didn't look particularly happy, but they both nodded their agreement to be patient.
"Can you tell us what our focus will be to start?" Ronnie asked.
"Yes, that I can tell you. The two of you will run point on investigating two NSA cryptographers working out of an LA field office. We have reason to believe that these two individuals are working with a rogue organization operating in the US, whose ultimate plans we have not yet been able to discern."
"Can you give us more information regarding this rogue organization?" Ronnie asked.
"Eventually, yes but not tonight. We'll get into some of those details over the next few days." Sarah explained. "Starting this weekend, I'm going to want you to work with Bryce and build a detailed workup on the two targets. When we're ready we'll start passive surveillance and eventually we'll move into aggressive surveillance. Our goal is to see if they can lead us to others in their organization and learn as much as we can about that organization along the way."
"You don't want us to get started tomorrow?" Mike asked.
Sarah smiled and said, "You are getting started tomorrow, but not on that. We have a meeting at Edwards Air Force base tomorrow and I'd like for both of you to be there. There's going to be some very high-level people from DC there, so look sharp. You won't be included in all the meetings so prepare to be a little bored."
Mike looked a little confused. "So our very first day on the job and you want us there while you meet with high-level people from Washington DC?"
Sarah nodded. "I do, yes. I know it's throwing both of you into the deep end of the pool, so to speak, but it's important to show that we're making headway with the task force." She looked at Mike and Ronnie in turn to see if they had any additional concerns.
Mike seemed a little dubious, but Ronnie simply shrugged and said, "I'm good. Wherever you need us. That's kind of what we signed up for."
Sarah smiled, already impressed with Ronnie's attitude. She turned her attention to the rest of the group. "Ok, with that in mind, it's getting late and we've got a two-hour drive ahead of us in the morning. We'll meet at FBI headquarters downtown tomorrow morning at seven am and leave from there as a group."
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When they met in the lobby of the federal building, Sarah recognized the rookie Agent Clarkson and his partner, Agent Williams from a couple of weeks earlier. She'd ridden the elevator with them when she'd been there for her meeting with Coburn, where he'd blindsided her with the task force.
She kept her face even, but grimaced internally at the younger agent's presence. He'd waited all of about ninety seconds to obliquely ask her out that day and she didn't have the patience to deal with any come-ons at this point. She made it a point to pretend she didn't remember either of them during their introductions and was glad when they didn't bring it up.
In addition to those two and Coburn, there were also three additional agents she'd never met before. They left in a convoy of four FBI Crown Vics. Carina, Sarah and Ronnie rode together in the car Carina had been assigned, while Bryce, Chuck and Mike took Bryce's. Coburn and his additional five agents were split among two additional cars, with Coburn's taking the lead and the other bringing up the rear.
To make the trip as quickly as possible, they ran with red and blue lights flashing, but no sirens. Sarah was amused to note that they still traveled at a lower rate of speed than she did in her car. Even so, the group made better time as traffic made way for them, and they could use the sirens to bull their way through stop lights when necessary. They kept a tight grouping on each other for the duration of the trip, and Sarah wondered how Chuck was faring. They were traveling at a fairly high rate of speed with only a couple car lengths between each vehicle. It could be intimidating to someone not trained in the technique.
At one point, while Sarah was going through some of her notes and mentally preparing for the meetings to come, Ronnie surprised her with a question. She turned a little in her seat so she could look at Sarah who was sitting in the back behind Carina.
"So Sarah, if this is none of my business, or not my place, just say so, but I gotta ask…" she trailed off tentatively. Sarah gave her an inquisitive look and nodded for her to continue.
"You and Chuck…?"
Carina snorted which earned her a dirty look from Sarah via the rearview mirror. But with Chuck so fully in her thoughts, she couldn't hold the expression for long. She eventually just smiled.
"How did you know?" Sarah asked.
Ronnie grinned as she pointed at herself and said, "Detective," which earned a snicker from the other two women.
Sarah couldn't help herself as she remembered Chuck basically attacking her when they'd gotten home after the meeting at the restaurant. She'd never liked aggressive men in the past, and she'd sent more than one on his way, wounded both in body and spirit. But aggressive Chuck was a different story altogether. A very sexy story.
"Yeah, me and Chuck," she admitted dreamily.
Carina made a dry-heaving noise and Sarah barked, "Fuck you, Miller!" She tried to make it sound furious but wasn't able to completely hide the humor in her voice.
"Ooooh, she's last-naming me. You know I'm in trouble now," Carina intoned sarcastically, getting a one-finger salute from Sarah as Ronnie giggled.
After a few moments, Ronnie continued. "I was paying attention last night. He didn't talk much, but damn, some of the looks he gave you?" She gave a low whistle. "It's every girls' dream to have someone look at her like that. And while you have a better handle on your expressions than he does, you gave him a couple of looks too. Plus you arrived together and left together. From where I'm sitting, that's pretty basic math."
Sarah nodded and said, "No, you're right. It's not like I'm trying to hide anything, but at the same time I don't want to broadcast it either. Chuck and I were together before I was tapped for this task force. He isn't just a run-of-the-mill tech guy. He's genuinely one of the best there is, with a degree from Stanford on a full-ride academic scholarship to back it up. I asked him to come on board because I needed someone I could trust to take on that role."
"That is impressive," Ronnie conceded. "And I'm beginning to understand your concerns regarding trust. Recruiting Vice cops instead of FBI agents is very telling when combined with what you told us last night about a rogue organization. It's not hard to connect the dots and conclude that they've been infiltrated by this organization. And you've already told us that the NSA is compromised. Put all this information together and it starts to paint a pretty bleak picture."
"You're on the right track, Ronnie. Like I said last night, we'll get more into this in the coming days and weeks, but just as a heads up, it's worse than you realize," Sarah admitted with a grimace.
Ronnie was obviously disturbed by that information as she looked back and forth between the two other women.
"Seriously?"
Both Sarah and Carina just nodded grimly as reply. The ride was quiet after that, each of them focused on their own thoughts regarding the battle they faced.
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A/N: I'm not a pilot. I don't even play flight simulator games. For all I know, my start-up procedure will turn a black hawk into a fireball of death and destruction. The video I watched looked cool tho, so I went with it.
Also, I know dick-all about flying. I apologize to any real pilots out there if my descriptions made you cringe. Everything I wrote in regards to inspecting and flying helicopters I found/learned on the internet, so I figured it must be true.
If you thought it sounded as cool as I did, drop me a line and let me know.
If you're a D and D nerd like me, drop a line and let me know I'm not alone in my nerdom. I like Monks better than Paladins and I love Fighters with a focus on archery. I once decapitated an enemy on a critical hit with a longbow. Gotta love X3 damage on Crit!
I need to give a shout out to atcDave for his invaluable information regarding air traffic rules and regs. I haven't gotten into that much yet, and only had one brief exchange in this chapter. If I mucked it up, it's all on me.
And also to WillieGarvin for his pre-read assistance. I'm convinced the man has some kind of time manipulation device he uses for all his Chuck related activities.
A/RANT: Something else I realized recently, mostly because I'm not very smart; really long chapters mean the author doesn't get as many reviews as someone who posts shorter chapters. A 100K word story with 20 chapters will have twice as many reviews as the same story with 10 chapters (duh). So we're getting less of that feedback even though we're offering up meaty reading material.
So for those of you who don't usually leave reviews (you know who you are), take a few seconds and let me know you're there. Even something as simple as, "Good work." or "Thanks!" or "Get Fucked, Cunt" (yes, I'm a Jake Barr fanboy. But I digress). Just say something. Your opinion matters and FF writers fucking thrive on reviews. It is literally the currency that keeps us writing. So pay me, bitches.
Thus endeth rant.
: : :looks down repentantly: : :
And sorry I called you bitches.