Ch. 5 Countersurveillance

A/N: So, Chuck has decided to draw Sarah out by having her use her spy skills to track him down. He may have already gotten the idea that this plan wasn't thought through as much as it could have been.

As an advanced warning, I will be on the road on Saturday and Sunday, so there probably won't be posts on those days. We'll get Ch. 6 up on Friday, but Ch. 7 probably won't drop until Monday. While I trust David with my account, he hangs out with EDC and ChuckQuinn who are not to be trusted.

Roan stared at the phone that was ringing. It wasn't so much that the phone was ringing, but who it was calling him. It seemed like just yesterday Sarah had left DC and headed to Stanford, and now, here she was, calling him. Part of him wondered, had Stephen told her about Charles?

"Roan, secure," he answered, bracing himself for the chewing he might receive. The problem with having a protege like Sarah Walker was she had NO problem telling him EXACTLY how she felt about things.

"Walker, secure," she responded. There was no chewing out, but there was something in her voice. Something he didn't know if he had ever heard before. Was Sarah Walker rattled? What had Charles done? And then, that's when he heard the background noises.

"Sarah…where are you?"

"At a beach," Sarah replied, exasperation in her voice. "It's the only place I know of that doesn't have cameras. Did you know about this?"

"I'm sorry," Roan replied. "Know about what, and what do you mean, cameras?"

"Someone texted me, Roan," Sarah told him. Roan waited, to hear the rest of it, but after a second, nothing else came.

"Sarah, dear, I'm not understanding what the problem is. Perhaps if you were to give me a tad bit more information I could better understand what is troubling you."

"Roan, someone texted me. And not on my burner phone. On the phone that only a select number of people have. Someone knows I'm here," Sarah explained.

He could feel her looking around. He could feel her, on high alert. "So, you think you're in danger," Roan surmised.

"What?! No," Sarah replied, dismissively.

Roan didn't say anything, but he couldn't help the smile that was growing on his face. Those Bartowskis. Now he was nearly certain that he knew what had happened. He thought for a second, came up with a course of action, and gently, put it all into play.

"Well, let's start with who has access to that phone number." Calm, cool, logical. The exact opposite of what Sarah was feeling right now. And her response showed it. "No one who would be foolish enough to send a text like that to me!"

Roan straightened up in his chair, wondering if he had guessed wrong over what this was all about. Sarah was still fuming. "And the number it came from was a total dead end," she continued. "Pay by use burner with an account pre-paid for with cash. No hits on any cell towers near campus."

Interesting. If this was Charles, either he's far more savvy than I had expected, or he got some help in playing this game with Sarah. "You've been busy." Just a hint of judgment in his tone. Sarah was supposed to be staying under the radar, but there was no way that she developed that much information that quickly without some Company resources.

Suddenly an idea came to him. If this was Charles, it could help the cause. "Listen Sarah, I know that this whole situation has been quite the shock to your system. The ink wasn't even dry on whichever passport you had used before you learned that Graham was in custody and you needed to fly under the radar. And we still need to keep you off of the radar of any Congressional oversight committee. Graham stepped on a lot of people on his rise to power, including many an elected official. They wouldn't bat an eye at burning you at the stake in order to get back at Graham."

Roan paused for a moment to let Sarah wonder where he was heading. "I'm not sure that the new Director made the right call in stashing you on some west coast college campus."

Sarah was completely silent. Roan did a happy dance, on the inside at least. If she was really unhappy she would have jumped at anything. As it was, Roan was absolutely convinced that Director Sommers had made the right decision, considering that he had been the one to suggest it to her.

"I've heard of a posting that has come open. It's head of security for a domestic black site." Does she go for it, or has Charles got her hooked already?

"Umm," Sarah stalled, causing a wicked grin to burst across Roan's face. "You know that I'm not really big on being part of a team. Not even as team leader. You remember the CATS debacle."

"Yes, of course I do. But not to worry. This is a small underground bunker. The team would only be you and one other guard." Roan let that filter through. "In Idaho. Out in the middle of nowhere. You wouldn't need to do much. They haven't even had an asset there in over a year. Basically, as long as the lights stay on, your work is done."

Roan was struggling to keep from laughing as he pictured the look on Sarah's face. Play cat and mouse with Charles, or take a post with nothing to do and nowhere to go.

"We've got a security breach here," Sarah quickly rationalized. "Well, not here at the beach here. I mean here as in school." Roan could hear Sarah exhale loudly as she struggled to regain self-control. "At Stanford. And, it's not like Fleming would be able to run this one down. I should really stick around to capture whoever is behind the text. Whoever sent the text could be a threat to the students, not just me."

Roan modulated his voice to sound solemn. "Very well." He was almost certain he heard "oh, thank god" whispered quietly on the other end of the phone. "I agree that such an investigation would be well outside of George's skillset. But if you become compromised…your identity that is, we can revisit the bunker in Idaho."

Hmm, maybe I can have a bit of fun at Charles's expense as well. "You need to be careful, Sarah. There are rumors of a splinter faction within the CIA that is actively recruiting current and former agents." Roan scoffed at the concern some held for this Fulcrum group. The intelligence community boogeyman. A few malcontents teamed up with some bad apples, full of sound and fury signifying nothing.

"As Graham's top enforcer, getting you to join would be quite the coup for them." Now that she's staying, Charles will just work that Bartowski magic. I wonder whether the nerd will get the girl…again.

"Wait," Sarah interjected, stopping him. "I don't think I'm in danger."

"What did the text say, Sarah?"

"Catch me if you can," Sarah growled out. It took everything in Roan's power, not to say, "Charles, Charles, Charles, you sly dog, you." With a mere five words, Charles Bartowski had done what Roan thought impossible. Charles had gotten Sarah to forget about the spy life by giving her a mystery. It used all her skills, but without any of the normal danger, both physical and especially mental, that she normally had to endure.

"Hmm," Roan replied, giving Sarah the time that she needed to come to the decision he was certain she would.

"Is pulling me from this, necessary?" Sarah asked. "I would think that the important thing is to figure out who is doing this."

"Well," Roan replied. "You are supposed to keep a low profile, which means, you are going to have to handle this investigation with no bloodshed."

"Not a drop," Sarah promised.

"Put together an action plan, Agent Walker," Roan told her. "Let me know how you plan to handle this matter."

"Understood," Sarah replied. "I'll have something ready in an hour."

"Good, talk to you then," Roan said, and disconnected the phone. Roan let out a laugh while toasting himself with a large snifter of brandy.

}o{

A few minutes later, Roan had composed himself enough to make another phone call. He waited patiently for his old friend to answer. "Roan," came the voice of Stephen. "Don't tell me he's already messed up."

"Oh, he has not," Roan replied. "Is Mary there? I feel this needs to be a conversation between all three of us."

Stephen asked him to wait a second, and a minute later, he heard the phone go to the speaker setting. "Roan, what's wrong?" Mary asked.

"Wrong?" Roan replied, amusement flowing through his voice. "Why would anything be wrong, Mary? A civilian has sent a spy a text using a burner phone, saying, 'Catch me if you can.' Why would such a thing cause anyone to suspect something is wrong?"

Mary burst out into laughter. "I am not following," Stephen admitted. "What is going on? It sounds like a brilliant plan to me. Give a spy something to do, to still use her mind and instincts, all while keeping her away from the dark path she was on as a CIA killing machine."

"Of course you think it's a brilliant plan," Roan heard Mary say. He heard the affection in Mary's voice for Stephen. "She's checked in I take it?"

"She has," Roan confirmed. "Any way to confirm that Charles is the one behind this?"

"I'm nearly certain, Roan," Mary admitted. "He ran the general plan by me, I knew it would do one of two things. She would either flee Stanford, or be intrigued, and I was nearly certain it would be intrigue." There was a pause, and Roan heard the weight of it. "I've seen her, Roan. She needs this. She has no one. I'm not trying to match-make for my son, please know that, but I know that having a Bartowski as a friend…it can change your life, for the better."

"The greater good," Roan said almost reverently.

"I mean I knew I was good, but gosh, do you two have to fawn over me," Stephen added, trying to bring some levity to the situation.

"May I ask you keep…overwatch on this?" Roan asked, happy with everything that was happening.

"I would be glad to," Mary told him. "Wait, are you making her put together an action plan?" Roan didn't answer, he just grinned. "You are incorrigible. Incorrigible. Roan, thank you." Roan was a little surprised by that. "You've not only gave Sarah something to do to get her mind off of that life, you have given my son something to do, to get his head out of that-"

"Dear," Stephen cut in.

"He's thinking about someone else other than his ex," Mary finished. "That's all I was going to say."

"That is never all you are going to say about her," Stephen muttered. "But Mary is right. It is nice to see him involved in a project that is people based."

"That's rich, coming from you," Mary teased.

"I'm going to go, before I become infected with this domesticity," Roan told them, laughing. "Oh, and to add a little spice to the mix, I cautioned Sarah that this might be Fulcrum making a play to recruit her."

Mary cut in, sounding cross. "I know that you and others don't take this Fulcrum threat seriously. But they are real, and they're not just in the CIA."

Roan felt a little conflicted. It usually wasn't wise to second guess Frost's instincts. "You really believe that there is a secret cabal festering within the government, set on seizing power?"

"I do." Roan deflated a little in his chair. This didn't sound like only Frost's instincts. She sounded convinced. Stephen decided to add his ten cents. "Just for the record, I agree with my wife. Then again, I always do."

Roan heard Mary scoff. "If you always agree with me, then why did you ignore me when I told you not to wire the house to make it a 'smart house'? A 'smart' house that kept locking me out?"

"But Mary, if you would just follow the protocols…"

"I'm not following some damned computer protocols to enter my own damned house!"

Roan grinned at their antics. That Bartowski charm had worked its magic on Frost. Could it do the same to the Ice Queen?

"I'll check in with you in a few days, Mary. If something happens, please let me know."

"We will, good-bye, Roan," Mary told him, and disconnected the call. Roan hung up, grinning. This was working out much better than he ever hoped. His smiled dimmed as he thought about Mary's concerns. Could the boogeyman be real?

}o{

Sarah looked at her notes. She had cataloged the locations of all of the University operated security cameras that were anywhere near her classes. She had decided to also do the same for all the cameras on her routes to and from campus. Someone was obviously monitoring her location and after what had happened at the student union, she was going to go with that theory.

She knew that Professor Fleming was the primary CIA on campus recruiter. Because he knew of her actual identity, he was to be her contact person on campus. The mystery texter was likely some in the school administration knew that she was affiliated with the government in some secret way, given her rapid enrollment in grad school without having actually applied or taken the GRE test required of applicants. However, she didn't know anyone else, so Fleming made the most sense. Even if Roan was convinced the man would be useless running the op.

Sarah also had plans to reach out to an Agency Tech Support officer back at headquarters who Sarah often requested for her missions. The woman had proven to be effective and timely, which hadn't always been the case when Sarah had reached out to headquarters with an emergency request while in the field. Her contact could discretely search the campus police's system. Technically, the search shouldn't be done without a warrant, but there were no grounds for a warrant even if Sarah had reported the unusual contact.

She was glad she had reported in, and not just because there were protocols to follow. When she had been in the field for Graham, she had often gotten away with not sticking to the rules. But Graham was gone, and the new regime was wary of putting a toe out of line when the Senate IC and the CIA IG were still conducting investigations into the Agency. Rules were meant to be followed, until they weren't. But for now they were definitely supposed to be followed by her. And, for now, she needed to not do anything to mess this up.

She blew out a breath. Contact person at Stanford, Fleming, check. Contact person in CIA, Roan, check. Now, she needed to figure out her next step. It had been three days since the anonymous text. She still had no leads on who had contacted her, and no new contact had occurred. The logical part of her brain told her that it was likely just a random text to a wrong number. Those happened from time to time.

However, her gut told her that the message was deliberately sent to her. Her gut had gotten her out of more trouble than she cared to admit. She trusted her gut, more anyone back at headquarters….except Roan or Gayle. Her phone rang, and she took a deep breath. She hit accept, put the phone to her ear, and spoke. "Walker, secure."

}0{

Roan shook his silver mane in vexation. He had been the one to steer Sarah towards Gayle when Sarah started doing Graham's dirtiest of dirty work. When he had implemented the plan to ship Sarah off to Stanford, Roan had a discrete word with Gayle-any request from Sarah while she was stateside should go through him before Gayle carried it out, especially any off of the books request.

"Sarah, I am fine with Gayle searching police records, but retasking an NSA satellite?" During their talks, Sarah had brought up using an NSA satellite for real time tracing. When he had told Mary of Sarah's request, she had thought it was just good planning. Stephen had offered to lend Sarah a hand in getting satellite access without the NSA being any the wiser.

"But, Roan…," she started to argue.

"What in the hell are you doing Sarah? How is this keeping off of the radar, or keeping a low profile?" He stopped for a moment and heard her sigh, confirmation that he was right. He shook his head and thought to himself. "Charles, my boy, what have you done that has the fetching Ms. Walker so spooked?" It was obvious that Mary had taught him nothing of seduction, and Roan was glad. While teaching Charles "The Montgomery," might do Charles a world of good, it was obvious that this was exactly what Sarah needed right now. Roan would love nothing more than to take credit for this, but it was nothing more than a fortunate stumble on his part. It was contingency planning that when Sarah was sent to Stanford, and Chuck was teaching there. It was purely happenstance all of the events that were leading to this…chase. Knowing the nerd his father was, Charles would probably call it a quest.

"Fine, no satellite," Sarah grumbled. "How often should I check in with you?"

"I think a simple text every twenty-four hours to prove nothing nefarious has happened to you would be sufficient," Roan told her. "So, to sum, what is your action plan that doesn't involve retasking billion dollar satellites?"

"To find out who has contacted me, and why," Sarah told him.

"And if it's a young man who is looking for some companionship?" Roan asked.

Sarah snorted. "If I were to tell him about my actual life, he'd run for the hill," Sarah told him. "I'll check in soon," and with that she was gone.

Roan chuckled as he hung up the phone. "She's yet to meet a Bartowski. They never have the good sense to run away." He paused and grinned. "Run toward, yes. Away…" Roan shook his head.

A/N 2: In the words of the incomparable Joe Watkins, Sarah doesn't have a fight or flight instinct, she has a fight or fight instinct. Hide in a bunker in Idaho, or catch who's messing with her? Not a hard choice for Agent Walker. Up next, the Intersect pulls them apart. But not in the way you think.