A/N (1) Now that we know that Sarah, Chuck, Casey, Bryce, and Carina will be on board for the mission, we should finally learn what it is all about. I don't guarantee that everything will be run as expected because the best-laid mission plans of CIA and NSA tend to go awry. At least we know that both Sarah and Chuck toy with the idea of romance - and doing so, neither of them is thinking about Bryce or Lou. That, at least, is a silver lining we have to hold on to for one or two chapters more. And, yes, since you asked, this story is as Charah as it can get, but I can not begin at their diamond anniversary...

A/N (2) If I owned Chuck, this world would be a better place. Alas, I don't, but still don't hold me responsible for all that's going in in the world and in the story.

•••••••••••••••••••

I'm sick and tired of you setting me up,
Setting me up just to knock-a knock-a knock-a me down, down, down.
I'm goin' down, down, down,
I'm goin' down, down down.
"I'm Goin' Down" (Bruce Springsteen)

Chapter 5: Chuck vs. Team Larkin

Casey sat very close to his custom-made SIG-Sauer P229. Just in case.

Bryce sat next to Sarah. While she gave no facial expression of her thoughts, she was staring at the tabletop in front of her. Her arms were firmly crossed in front of her chest. Bartowski, now in his Armani, seemed not precisely comfortable with Carina leaning very close. Casey could see how Chuck's look ever so often darted to Sarah, trying to catch her eyes, but she ignored him.

Morons! How should we pull off the mission with such a kindergarten!

To Casey's mild surprise, Larkin's behavior struck him as unprofessional. The possessive arm around Walker's shoulder was unnecessary at this stage of the mission. He fathomed that Larkin wanted to be the alpha-male. The slick and seemingly jovial exterior was a façade.

The tension in the conference room was thick enough to cut double-decker sandwiches out of it. For minutes, nobody had muttered a single word. Casey evaluated the faces. Bartowski certainly was the weakest link in the chain. He was apparently drifting between pain and anger. Sadness that he thought he lost the girl, and umbrage that he lost out to his old nemesis.

Moronski, you idiot. Haven't you learned your lesson by now not to fall in love with a CIA skirt? Casey thought with a touch of commiseration for Chuck. Walker is such a piece of work. She'll never get her personal stuff together. Walker is a spy, 200%. That's why she's the best - spy. As a human being, she's a total failure. How these two could fall in love, especially Sarah for Chuck - and Casey had no doubt about that either - was beyond him.

The huge screen finally came alive.

Thank God, General, tell me to throw all these idiots in the brig, and let's storm the party with a tight Marine squad.

Larkin's arm disappeared from Sarah's shoulders immediately, but Beckman noticed anyway. She did not comment on it, but astoundingly, featured a hint of interest flitting across her face. As was her custom, the General did not waste a moment.

"We have a major operation," she began as her usual stern look turned even more severe. "A Russian mini-nuke was stolen."

"Dozens were stolen when the Soviet Union collapsed," Casey inserted proudly.

"Why's Casey looking like he just wiped out an insurgent camp in Helmand?" Chuck whispered to Carina.

She took the opportunity to put a hand on his shoulder and to lean even closer to him. "That's why he credits Ronald Reagan with sounding the death knell of the USSR."

"I see some are already acting in cover," Beckman remarked snidely, "But if you could lend me your ears for a few moments to explain to you about one of the most severe threats the nation ever faced, I assume you will understand my urgency."

"Sorry, General," Chuck began, disillusion spreading across his face as Beckman's words could only mean that, as he feared already, he was teamed up with Carina and not with Sarah, but he was interrupted.

"Don't be sorry, be quiet!" Beckman cut him off. "As I said, a Russian mini-nuke was stolen."

"What's a mini-nuke?" Chuck whispered. Still leaning close, Carina kissed him quickly but firmly on the mouth, which shut him up immediately. Sarah narrowed her eyes before closing them, heaving a silent sigh. The true bomb on this mission is Carina, she thought.

"Thank you, Agent Miller," the General remarked dryly. "You have full authority to use that method to silence the Intersect anytime it is deemed necessary."

As everyone's eyes widened, Carina smirked gleefully. "I'm fully read into that big brain of Chuck's."

Beckman nodded and continued. "A mini-nuke is an atomic bomb that is reduced in explosive power to inflict only limited and predictable damage. We and the Russians developed those because both sides anticipated that the extreme power of the atomic armory was usable only in an all-out war. The thought was that mini-nukes could be brought out to the battlefield without risking an atomic world war."

"What is the power of such a bomb?" Chuck asked concernedly.

"Roughly, a mini-nuke has the explosive power somewhere between Little Boy and Fat Man."

Everybody could see that Chuck flashed at these words, and then he gasped. "Hiroshima and Nagasaki! 13 kilotons and 21 kilotons! And you call that mini?"

Beckman ignored his question and calmly said: "This bomb is now in the United States."

The silence that followed her words was only disturbed by a – there is no other description – explosive grunt. The General had the undivided attention of the team.

"All agencies failed to prevent the transfer of the bomb. It is somewhere in the continental US. We are not even aware through which channels it was smuggled in."

Chuck raised his hand but spoke nonetheless immediately. "What.. what… what would happen if it was used in, say, Burbank?"

Beckman regarded him for a couple of seconds. His constant interruptions made her consider having him removed from the briefing, but she needed him on the mission and preferred to have no second-hand information inside the team.

"We already did some calculations, based on the smallest size of bomb we expect, which is 15 kilotons. I don't have figures for Burbank at hand, but, among others, we estimated the loss for Los Angeles. That would result in roughly 60,000 fatalities and 80,000 injuries, and at least 250,000 citizens would be exposed to the fallout, in varying depth of impact. These figures are based on the assumption that the bomb would be exploded on the surface. An airburst would cause more casualties."

It became considerably colder in Castle. Chuck appeared to be shell-shocked while Casey sat upright like he was preparing for the bomb blast. Sarah's features were hard, and even Carina's eyes had lost their luster. Only Bryce remained relaxed as he obviously had been briefed before. Beckman gave them a few moments. When she saw Sarah taking a cleansing breath, she continued.

"The people who stole the bomb do not have intentions of using it but are offering it to the highest bidder. At least, we know that this auction will take place at the Palacio del Mar Hotel in Santa Monica, sometime from today, Thursday, to Sunday. Actually, what will change hands this weekend is the suitcase, or as we call it, football, controlling the bomb and allowing the user to set a timer or to detonate it immediately."

Chuck was still trying to comprehend everything and stated the obvious. "So the bomb was smuggled into the country first, which certainly wasn't easy, and that means that it is not simply being sold, but especially sold to someone who will use it somewhere here."

"Exactly." The General looked inquiringly at him.

Chuck waved negatively, almost looking exhausted as he understood the gravity of the situation. "Ah… no, no. I did not flash on anything you told us. But can we not bust the whole hotel?"

"Mr. Bartowski, we need absolute certitude about the location of the bomb," Beckman replied patiently. "That task has top priority. While I do not even want to imagine the repercussions I would face and the calls I would have to answer if we search some of the richest people in California and their rooms, I still would risk it if that would guarantee success."

Chuck squinted his eyes in concentration. "Can't we somehow block the signal, set up a jammer, whatever suitable you guys got in your armory, to prevent the usage of this suitcase?"

He's thinking, Beckman admitted and took the time to explain. "To be honest, we do not really know how Russian nuke suitcases work, which is another reason we would like to get our hands on one. When the Soviet Union collapsed, we discreetly helped to secure quite a few, but they never let us examine one. Given we can jam the signal, it would not help us in the long run. If we do not get hold of it and it would be moved, it will be out of reach. We need to know where it is in the first place and secure it."

She pointed at no one in particular. "Your mission will be even more complicated as there is a huge four-day convention at the hotel. California tries to bring in international investors and companies. The governor invited many of them to the Palacio del Mar for discussions, talks, and presentations, along with guest speakers, banquets, entertainment, and everything you can imagine. So we will have guests from around the globe at the hotel, which makes it even harder to distinguish who our targets are. Certainly, the venue was selected for that very reason as every nationality can blend in effortlessly into this political cattle drive."

"Wonderful," Larkin said, "A house full of suspects."

Sarah's body language expressed doubt. "General, I can't pinpoint it, but this is a very unconventional way to handle such a deal. I haven't seen it managed that way ever before."

The affirmative grunt coming from Casey went not unnoticed by Beckman. She leaned slightly forward.

"I agree with both of you. But the threat is so intense that we cannot take any risks. We need that bomb. Concentrate only on the people you identify as essential. We can expect all major enemies of the US to participate."

"I understand, General!" Chuck chimed in. "So, where does Team Bartowski come in? Though, honestly, I think you need the NSA, the Marine Corps, the Jedi, and Chuck Norris to deal with this problem."

"It's Team Larkin this time. He is the Agent-In-Charge!" Beckman corrected him coldly. "But first to you, Major. Room 203 is booked for you. Your equipment and everybody else's of Team Larkin will be transported there. So travel lightly! A surveillance unit is being set up as we talk."

She looked earnestly worried. "This is an existential crisis. An atom bomb explosion would cause undeterminable loss of death and social, economic, and political consequences. Remember the consequences of 9-11. We marched into Afghanistan to overthrow the Taliban and Al-Qaeda, and we still haven't found Bin Laden. In 2003, we entered Iraq in our war against terror, and we're still there. The dynamics initiated by an atom-bomb exploding on American soil is something that makes even our think tanks shudder."

She held up a hand, an understanding expression on her face. "I know, Major Casey, this is very personal for you, you've been there, and I might not have given a proper summary. But I only wanted to remind everyone to imagine what an a-bomb explosion would trigger in addition to the immediate loss of life."

Casey still had something to say. "Wasn't it rumored that Bin Laden had several of those backpack nukes?"

Beckman nodded. "That's correct, Major. But (a) we still have to prove Al-Qaeda has some, and (b) if he had and the one we're talking about is one of his, he would not sell it – but use it himself. Our biggest obstacle is that we have no idea about any individuals involved on neither side. That's where we will bring you in."

Chuck braced himself for the inevitable bad news, which arrived promptly.

"Agents Larkin and Walker will once more act as the Andersons, newlyweds on their honeymoon. The honeymoon suite, room 101, is booked."

Larkin took Sarah's right hand in his left. "Welcome back, Mrs. Anderson," he purred. She bestowed that tentative half-smile on him, that didn't give away if she was shyly pleased or embarrassed.

"Agent Miller and Mr. Bartowski will also go in as another newly married couple, Mr. Charles Carmichael and Mrs. Samantha Lisa Carmichael."

Sarah's face froze. She drew in a sharp breath and gulped audibly. Carina misunderstood the reason for her reaction, smiled a hardly reassuring smile, and quipped: "Don't worry, I won't break him, only whip him into shape."

Sarah did not listen to her. What a cruel joke of fate! She was lost in thought for a moment before conjuring the calm, slightly aloof agent mask back on her face. Ever-attentive Chuck was about to ask her if anything was wrong, but Beckman, ignoring Carina, already continued.

"Larkin and Walker will be seated at Governor Kowalski's table. Miller, Bartowski, you will be placed on a table next to the governor. That way, you can check out the people approaching the Governor. Everyone sooner or later will pay a courtesy call to him, even the people we are looking for. It would be suspicious to attend the convention and then not show up to greet him. And those who don't will be on the top of our list. We hope the Intersect can flash on as many people as possible and allow us that way to put together the puzzle that will lead us to the bomb. Last but not least, the name Kowalski showed up in our research, so we can not rule out that the governor is involved."

Casey displayed a painful expression - Governor Kowalski was Republican.

"Should I not sit with Agent Walker then?" Chuck asked eagerly. "She knows me better than Miller, and there certainly will be a way to let her know of imminent danger, better than sitting at another table and pretending not to know her."

Beckman shook her head.

"No, Mr. Bartowski. Larkin and Walker are our best agents. If anyone can act properly in the face of a crisis of such magnitude, it's those two. You're not a trained agent and lack all the skills that are required for such a job. We solely need the Intersect to observe."

A wry smile appeared around her lips. "Besides, we are sure you will flash on so many residential tax fraudsters that you will have a splitting headache by the end of the evening. Agent Miller will help you cover the flashes by being all over her young husband whenever the need arises."

Carina grinned. I am going to enjoy this!

"Why Agent Miller, General?" Chuck insisted, and Beckman once more showed unusual patience.

"It is none of your business, Mr. Bartowski, but Walker and Miller worked together before, in a unit named the CAT squad. They know each other very well. Inconspicuous communication will be no problem for them."

Beckman leaned forward to the camera so that her eyes stared down from the screen big and worried, her face suddenly showing her age.

"You surely have more questions, but I don't have the answers for you. Team Larkin, your mission starts immediately. I know you all – well, almost all - are trained to serve the greater good, but this time there is no implicit meaning to it. You are on a mission to save tens-of-thousands, if not more, fellow citizens."

Hardly the screen went blank when Casey, who had been doing standard preparations before, threw some items on the table.

"These are your watches, your cufflinks, and your earrings. The earrings are not for you, moron. All of the items carry microphones, so you can alternate between these to talk to me or each other. Like you guys can do your cover lovey-dovey and whisper in your wifey's ears and actually talk to the mic. It's an encrypted closed circuit for all of us, so I expect radio discipline. Keep your gibberings to a minimum and just give as the hard facts, Bartowski."

"That's it?" Larkin asked. "That's all the equipment we have when we go in?"

Casey stared at him like he would have stared down a half-witted boot at Camp Lejeune.

"What did you expect, Larkin? A bazooka? Your first task is to walk your young wife to your table. I hope you can manage that. And you, Miller, take care that the moron does not get lost. Now you know how important he is."

"Sure, Casey," she replied nonchalantly. "I'll bring handcuffs."

Casey froze for a moment and continued. "Here are your room cards, reprogrammed to open any door in the hotel. Don't take any IDs with you. Oh, and here are your wedding rings," he said as he carelessly threw four rings on the table.

"They look all the same!" Chuck gasped.

"Standard CIA jeweler, moron!" Casey grinned. "Do you think we shop at Tiffany's for you?"

"Orson," Chuck reflectively said. "Yeah, Orson." Noticing the looks of everyone, he elucidated: "I'm going to discard Charles Carmichael and will use Orson as my agent name."

"Orson? Just Orson, silly? Who do you think you are, Elvis or something?" Carina asked.

Chuck gave her a look questioning her wits.

"According to Casey, my second name is Moron anyway. Orson Moron, Orson Moron, Orson Moron; that has at least some appeal to it, wouldn't you say, silly?" he spoke on as he booped Carina on the nose. She blinked.

"You just didn't boop the most dangerous DEA agent on the planet on the nose, did ya?" Sarah asked incredulously from the other side of the table.

"You're lucky I pretend you're in your cover character, Orson, or you already would text on your phone with only nine fingers," Carina declared with a clear warning in her voice.

Larkin stood up.

"OK, folks. Here's how we run it. Casey will bring us up to the rear entrance of the hotel in the van. We can take one of the smaller elevators up and then the main elevator down, so it looks like we came from our rooms. Don't worry, check-in will be taken care of, all our luggage as well. We will step out opposite of the banquet hall. Casey will stay in the van until we're in and only then move to room 203. Remember, we don't know each other. Let's move. I want Chuck to have a look at the surveillance we'll be running."

He turned to Sarah and grabbed her hand with an exaggerated smile. "Let's go, darling. Let me escort you to our limousine."

Chuck stood up and turned around to watch Sarah gracefully step up the stairs. Carina smacked him on his ass.

"You better watch where you're looking, hubby!" she snarled. He sadly looked down at her and offered her his hand as well. "That's better," she said. "You need to keep in cover, Chuck. Do you understand how important that is?"

"Yes, Carina..." he trailed off and wondered aloud, shaking his head disbelievingly, "CAT squad?"

•••••••••••••••••••

A/N (3) There is a reference to another story as a bow to the great David Carner. If you didn't notice it, you have to read all of his stories from start to end. Fluff luck.

A/N (4) Some of you do, some don't. Don't be afraid. Tell your opinion, leave a review. Especially meaningful for a first-time writer like yours truly. And I hope you are aware that I can't express my gratitude for reading and reviewing if you chip in your two cents anonymously - as a guest. Sign up for FanFiction.