A/N A lot to do here.

"I'm tired of being a cannibal."

"I smell like asparagus!"

"Still got it."

"Wherever John Casey is."

The traitor hid himself in plain sight, as traitors are wont to do. Why not? As far as their victims were concerned, they were where they belonged. It was their great strength.

It wasn't a betrayal, not really. That's what he told himself. The person he was betraying had betrayed him first. They wore the same uniform, went to the same places, ate the same food, but still the man he would have and had called his brother had moved against him. Denied him. Turned his homeland into a mockery of its former self.

This would not stand.

All things considered, John Casey would rather have been in Philadelphia. Not only did the city figure in one of Ronald Reagan's greatest pieces of wit (and Casey always appreciated good wit), Casey had been born there, while this fat clown who insisted on talking to him hadn't.

More to the point, it wasn't Riverside, a scenic and otherwise pleasant locale, currently overrun with Buy More employees. Employees of the year. The cream of the crap. Some of them were even wearing their green shirts. Did they live in the damn things? From the smell of it, maybe.

He'd given up a wife and a daughter for this? Casey didn't mind sacrificing so others could live their dreams, but really, some people, these people in particular, needed a better class of dreams. Isn't that what dreams were supposed to be, better lives, not just more-of-the-same lives? As it was, Casey could only hope Fat Clown lived and died in Champagne-Urbana, which seemed to be his life's ambition. Keep the infection from spreading.

Then, unimaginably, it got worse. "John Casey," said a rough, accented voice from behind him. "El Angel de la Vida, my old friend, we meet again."

Casey turned. His ears had not been playing tricks on him, or his nose. Generalissimo Goya's cigar overwhelmed whatever pungency might have existed in the greenshirt outfit he wore, an attempt at camouflage that wasn't entirely successful. His entire guard cadre wore similar outfits and it wasn't successful on them either. Only an idiot wouldn't see these guys for what they were.

"Hey, what store are you from, man?" asked Fat Clown, reaching out a hand.

"Costa Gravas," said Goya, holding up a hand so his men would stay back. They were in disguise, supposed to blend in.

"I didn't know we had a branch there," said the clown, hand still extended.

"The world is full of surprises," said Goya.

"I wouldn't know," said the clown, moving in. "I was born in Champagne-Urbana and by the grace of God that's where-"

Goya's guards moved, and the man went stumbling back into the pool. "Cannonball!" yelled somebody, and another greenshirted buffoon grabbed Goya and leapt into the pool with him.

"Stand down!" barked Casey to Goya's men, before jumping into the pool himself, good suit and all, to rescue their master. Everyone else cheered and threw themselves into the water, as Casey surfaced with the Premier in hand. Goya was mainly interested in his ruined cigar. "I trust you have a new one nearby," he said, as Casey towed him to the edge and his men took hold. The Buy Morons were too busy splashing and dunking each other to notice.

Casey looked around as he hauled himself out of the water. Alone on the skirt, they were far too exposed for his liking. Too much collateral damage, if things went south, and Costa Gravas was a tropical nation. "Let's go elsewhere, Excellency. We can dry off and you can give me a sitrep on what's happening back home."

Back home...

Ellie opened the door to Sarah's knock and let her future sister-in-law inside. "Where's Chuck?" He'd taken the week off from the Buy More, but he never took time off from Sarah.

"He's in our secret spy base-"

"The one under the Buy More?" asked Ellie, leading her guest back to her breakfast table.

"You figured it out?" asked Sarah.

"It was pretty obvious," said Ellie, pouring coffee for Sarah. "I figure he's over there right now, analyzing the secret spy photos you probably took with your secret spy spy gear of that control room Goya dragged us through." She hadn't seen Sarah do it but she knew her too well.

"You're good," said Sarah, taking her cup. "I guess it's true what they say, women don't need a Lens."

Ellie laughed. "He's nerdified you."

Sarah shook her head. "That's not even a word."

"It is now." Ellie patted her tummy. "If I can create this I can certainly create a new word."

Sarah his her smile behind the coffee cup as she took a sip. So nice to have a normal friend, part of a normal life. Too bad it couldn't be like this forever. "Well, that answers my question. We were wondering how you were doing after last night."

"Oh, I'm fine," said Ellie. "Poor Devon was a little upset seeing his head blown off, I had to make it up him." She leaned in close. "Let me tell you, deadly danger, not fun, but post-deadly danger..." She sighed happily.

"Oh, yeah," said Sarah. She sighed happily.

"I'm not listeninnnggg," sang Ellie, her hands too busy to slap over her ears, and she didn't want to get butter in her hair anyway. "How's the book?"

Fourteen and counting. "I told you, it's Morgan's."

"Yeah, right. Morgan probably has his own, and he'd be telling Casey it's Chuck's." Ellie shook her head. "Hopeless."

"Ellie, believe me, Chuck doesn't need to take lessons." Sarah's phone rang, and she checked the screen. She put it on the table and put the call on speaker. "Hey, sweetie, I'm with Ellie. We were just talking about you."

"Nothing bad, I hope," said Chuck.

"Hey, Ellie said 'hopeless', I didn't." Ellie frowned and threw an olive at her.

"Well, that's all right then."

Sarah and Ellie smiled at each other. "So why are you calling me on our secret spy phone?"

"Secret spy bad news," said Chuck, playing along. "Costa Gravas is nuclear."

General Beckman's office...

"Costa Gravas is what?"

Riverside...

"Since when has Costa Gravas been a nuclear nation?" asked Casey, his voice dangerously low.

"Since Havana," said Goya, looking mildly out of sorts. It was, after all, Casey's cigar he was smoking, even if he'd given it to Casey in the first place. "The entire time you were in my palace walls waiting to kill me, I was in Havana, arranging the purchase with Volkoff's top man. It was funnier then than it is now, believe me."

"Why is that, Excellency?"

"Because my wife has the other key," said Goya, pulling a necklace out from under his shirt. "It takes two, and at the time I thought we would be together forever. I guess she didn't appreciate the symbolism." He started to put the key back.

"Don't bother," said Casey. "You know they're just going to order me to confiscate that." He held out his hand.

Goya's men all aimed their weapons, a swarm of fireflies on Casey's chest. "You know we cannot let you do that, Colonel."

Goya looked at his aide. "Are you crazy? I owe him my life. His blood flows in my veins. "

Turrini sneered, "Hortencia will need it."

"Now this is the betrayal I expected," said Casey. He stepped in front of Goya, the fireflies following. "You know you didn't bring enough men, Major."

Turrini put his pistol in Casey's face. "I don't want to kill an unarmed man."

"Excellency, give me your gun," said Casey, holding out a hand behind him. As he heard Goya draw his weapon, Casey said, "You've seen the people here, you'll be doing me a favor."

Goya hit Casey over the head with his pistol, dropping him to the floor. He held out the gun to Turrini. "No harm comes to this man. I go with you."

Turrini took the gun and nodded. He had nothing against Casey personally, and professionally they needed to maintain a low profile. "Vamanos."

At Verbanski Corp...

Gertrude's phone buzzed. "Corporal Swan to see you."

"Send her in." She looked up as a petite female entered, attractive according to Grimes' profile. "How'd it go, Swan?"

"Total failure, ma'am," said Swan, her top seduction expert. "The door stayed open, the table stayed between us, he told me about his girlfriend in Basic right away." Denying her the chance to use her most basic stratagems.

"So he was interested?"

"Hell, yes, he was interested," said Swan, pleased about that much at least. "But he's not a fool. I can step things up if you wish."

"Yes," said Gertrude. "Step it up as you need to. Make sure you've got an out at all times. If you succeed, break off immediately."

"Yes, ma'am." Swan turned and left, a slight smile on her face. She hated to fail in any assignment, especially not a high-profile target like Grimes. She'd have to do this one slow and steady, like poison. Her favorite technique.

They didn't call her the Viper for nothing.

Costa Gravas, somewhere inside the walls of the palace...

Chuck was trying not to think about the things he was probably crawling over. "You actually volunteered to come with us, rather than stay at a cushy resort, Casey?"

"A cushy resort full of greenshirts, Bartowski. What's a little slime compared to that?" Not that Casey was sure that there was a difference. "Not to mention that they took Goya on my watch. I'd love to watch the little troll fry but it's going to be on my terms or not at all, get me?"

"We get you," said Sarah. "How do you know where we're going?"

"Two ways. First, this is the only way they could have gotten those control panels into the palace without us seeing them. Second, listen for the sound of them making pompous speeches. You'd have to be quiet to hear that, which is probably how you keep missing it."

"-exactly the problem!" Hortencia's voice echoed through the spaces. "You have to do everything your way!"

"Found him," muttered Casey.

"Found her," said Chuck.

"Found them both," said Sarah, speeding up. "He's the key to her."

"Isn't it usually the other way around?" asked Chuck, trying to keep up. "The woman is the key to the man?"

"In a healthy relationship it's both," said Sarah, getting quieter as they got closer. "I've been reading that 'I Do' book even if you haven't."

"I've been reading," whined Chuck.

"Did you read the preface?" asked Sarah. "I doubt the guy had this exact scenario in mind, though. If Goya wasn't important to Hortencia even now, she would have already killed him."

"So you're saying this whole revolution is a relationship power struggle?" asked Casey.

"Yep," breathed Sarah. "With nuclear weapons, and she's got both of those keys."

"Is it too late for me to go back to Riverside?"

Suddenly the room echoed with the sound of multiple weapons being drawn and cocked, men moving out of the lines of fire. Hortencia yelling, "I'll shoot you in the head the way you shot me in the heart!"

"Too late," said Sarah, and she kicked the wall down. "While the dust settled, she shouted, "You're making a mistake, Hortencia."

"Who are you?" shouted Mme. Goya back. "Come out of there."

Sarah came out of the wall, hands in the air. Chuck followed, while Casey hung back. Goya and his wife were pointing guns at each other, while Turrini smirked to the side. "My name is Sarah Walker, although that will be changing soon." She curled her fingers around Chuck's.

"Do yourself a favor," said Mme. Goya. "Spare yourself the misery."

"We will give them nice peaceful executions instead," said Turrini. "Guards."

"I'm doing you the favor, Hortencia," said Sarah, and Mme Goya held up a hand. The guards stopped and backed off. "Clearly you've forgotten how much you love your husband. I understand, it's easy enough to do, when that love is the foundation of everything else. You get so caught up in the roles and the politics, that you forget the floor you walk across every day."

"It was so much easier in the beginning," said Hortencia. "All we had was a cave, and each other."

"I know that cave," said Sarah. "It's a terrible place to be alone in. I'm just beginning to build the palace that you've lived in so long, and I would never want to walk though it alone either." Chuck wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "You won your war, madame, don't lose the peace."

"What peace?" said Hortencia. "Smiling diplomatically while my husband slobbers all over that brunette-"

"Sister of mine?" asked Sarah, with a frown.

Hortencia backed away from that one. "The peace of these empty palace halls, as my husband cavorts in Havana and calls it negotiations?"

"They were negotiations," said Goya, almost forgotten in the background.

"Still you lie?" shouted Turrini. "Shoot him, Hortencia. Lead your people."

Hortencia glared at him, and he backed off. "Turrini sent me pictures, you and some brunette whore."

"That 'whore' is Alexei Volkoff's top man," said Goya, looking around nervously. "A woman in form only. Her coldness chilled my Latin blood, made me desperate for your touch, mi amor."

Turrini pulled out his gun. "I'll give you her touch, you undeserving swi-"

Chuck's arm left Sarah's shoulder and slammed against Turrini's chest, knocking him backward. Casey stepped out behind him and wrapped an arm around his neck, grabbing his gun.

"Now, now," he whispered in Turrini's ear. "Let's let the two lovebirds have their moment." He looked over at the lovebirds. "You know he used to watch you while you were sleeping?"

Hortencia's face twisted in disgust.

"Please, my love, I have wronged you, I see that now," said Goya. He lowered his weapon as his wife looked upon him again. "I will do anything, even see that marriage counselor like you wanted, although we'll have to find a new way to smuggle him into the palace since the Americans clearly know about this one." He pointed at the hole in the wall.

"You would do that for me?" asked his wife, well aware of how much he despised any appearance of weakness. She lowered her gun too.

Goya put away his weapon. "Anything. Let my love be your armor, your shield against vipers like these..." He gestured contemptuously at his former aide.

Hortencia moved into his empty arms. "Let my love keep your sword keen and sharp, against any foe..."

"Challenge me," begged Goya. "Feed my soul."

"I want a role in the new government."

"Secretary of State."

"I will deal with the Americans," said Hortencia, pressing her body firmly against his. "Get those filthy missiles out of our jungle."

Goya smiled. "The People's jungle."

Hortencia smiled. "I love it when you talk politics." They lost themselves in a passionate embrace.

Casey couldn't take anymore, so he distracted himself making Turrini unconscious.

"You got it," said Chuck, in Sarah's ear.

She walked over and took the two keys from the control panel. "Now I do."

A/N2 I loved Casey's wheelchair moment, but I didn't have a wheelchair. Let me know what you think of it.