Chapter 24: The Family Trouble

California, Los Angeles, January 16th, 2008

"I've picked a suitable mark," Orion explained in the small motel room on the south side of the city. "Marco Gonzàlez." He hit a key, and a picture of a middle-aged man with a moustache appeared on his laptop's screen. "He's an independent drug smuggler with contacts to various cartels in Mexico."

Sarah nodded. "That means there will be plenty of suspects for his murder."

He didn't flinch at her wording, though she saw that Chuck did.

"Indeed. And since he has been laundering money and investing into legal businesses for some time, it would look quite convincing that he would have wanted to secure the services of Chuck. I already inserted a few inadequately hidden tech support calls from a business he indirectly controls," Orion went on.

"We've been tracking Chuck's Nerd Herd calls for a while," she pointed out.

"You have?" Chuck said. "I mean, of course you have. But… only since I received the Intersect, right?"

"Yes," she told Chuck with a smile. Sometimes, his lack of cynicism was very endearing.

"I've already taken care of the CIA's records as well," Orion told her.

She managed not to frown. Even though Orion was Chuck's father and an ally, it was still vexing to be reminded of how easily he could hack the Agency's systems.

"Uh… Gonzàlez is a drug smuggler?" Chuck asked.

"With all that entails," Orion replied. "Including the murder of competitors, witnesses, subordinates that might become a problem or decide to quit, and, of course, police officers who won't accept bribes."

"In Los Angeles?"

"Both here and in Mexico. The Los Angeles Police Department is not quite as riddled with corruption as the often underpaid Mexican police forces, but the local cops are by no means immune to bribes and blackmail." Orion shrugged. "No one will miss him."

Sarah wasn't quite sure about that claim - many successful drug lords had a loving family, and often a large number of dependents who would definitely miss them and their support. That wasn't altruism on the part of the drug lords, of course, but pragmatism to foster loyalty among their subordinates. But telling Chuck that would be counter-productive. They needed to lay this affair to rest, after all.

"Ah." Chuck didn't sound too convinced, but he looked less disturbed.

"And his death will disrupt one of the established supply channels for cocaine in Los Angeles and Southern California," Orion went on. "It won't stop the drug trade, of course - though I can't think of anything that would. Nothing which would be politically feasible, in any case."

"So… what exactly do we need to do to frame Gonzàlez?" Chuck asked. "If you've already hacked his system."

"I haven't, actually." Orion frowned. "Gonzàlez is practising better computer security than most CIA operatives I know, and keeps his key computer systems offline."

"That isn't exactly an option for the CIA," Sarah felt forced to point out. "Information has to be distributed and often as quickly as possible for operations." With the exception of a few top secrets, of course. And some missions that never had a paper or electronic data trail to begin with.

"Point," Orion admitted with a grin that looked far too similar to Chuck's for Sarah's comfort. "But it still means that we need to access Gonzàlez's files to convincingly frame him. And that means physically entering his home."

"Provided he has his files there," Sarah said.

"He will have a way to access his files - in his business, a significant delay for such a task could spell his ruin," Orion countered.

It was true, but Sarah couldn't help wondering just why Orion was so familiar with the drug trade.

"So… where is his home?" Chuck asked.

Another picture appeared on the screen. A high-rise, all glass and steel.

"That's the new apartment tower in Downtown!" Chuck exclaimed. "We've had a few calls there when new tenants had trouble with their overpriced home entertainment systems."

"Exactly," Orion said. "You'll be familiar with the layout of an apartment there."

"It also has one of the most advanced security systems on the civilian market," Chuck added. "And that's just the building, not the different apartments."

"Yes," Orion admitted. "On the other hand, we won't have to contest with a private army guarding a villa."

That was a small consolation, in Sarah's opinion. Although… "Some of those apartments will be available for rent. If you can secure one, we'd have a base of operation."

"Yes. Although I fear I'll need some help arranging the cover identities for that. I could do it, and I've done that before, but in this case, I think we need to minimise the risk that this might end up connected to me or the CIA."

"That doesn't leave us with many choices, does it?" Chuck said.

Orion nodded. "I was thinking of asking your friends for a little help."

"Our friends? Do… oh. The Council?" Chuck asked.

"Yes."

Sarah didn't like that. It would make them even more dependent on the Council and create leverage against them. On the other hand, it would let her see how good the Council was at this sort of work.

California, Los Angeles, Echo Park, January 16th, 2008

"So… do we tell Bane about this?" Chuck asked as Sarah took the second-to-last turn before their home.

"About Orion? No," she answered without hesitation.

"Uh…"

She suppressed a sigh. "We've told her about vampires and magic, but we don't know yet if she can be trusted."

"Ah." He didn't sound convinced. She could tell. And she knew that he wanted to come clean to Bane - he didn't like hiding things from a team mate.

"This is too important to risk. Remember what we discussed about Casey?" she reminded him.

"He realised the truth himself, or would have," Chuck retorted.

"Bane won't," Sarah said. The other spy was still dealing with the revelation that the things that go bump in the night were real.

"Won't she notice that we're up to something?"

That was a potential problem, yes. But there was a solution, too. "Morgan will have to keep her busy," she told him.

Chuck stared at her.

She reined in her annoyance. "He can ask Phil for help. She'll want to know as much about magic as possible."

"I'll tell him, then. Once I can catch him alone. And after checking for bugs," Chuck added with a smile before she could remind him.

She smiled in return as she parked her car. He'd make a fine spy.

"Now we'll have to tell Casey," she told him after getting out of the car.

"Ah… alright." He grimaced a little, she noticed. But they couldn't leave Casey out of this - they needed his help.

And so, instead of returning home, they went straight to the other agent's apartment.

He had a small pair of cutters in hand when he opened the door, Sarah noticed. Preening his bonsai? Or fiddling with a bomb, perhaps? With Casey, it was hard to say.

He didn't ask what they wanted, nor did he invite them inside - he merely stepped aside with a grunt and let them enter.

"Good evening," Chuck said. "Oh… is that a bonsai?"

"Don't touch it!" Casey snapped.

Chuck jerked back. "I was just taking a closer look!" he complained.

Sarah cleared her throat. They weren't here to discuss Casey's hobby. Or his hangups and insecurities. "We've met with Orion," she said.

"What did he say about Bartowski's brain? Is it going to melt?"

"What? No, it's not going to melt!" Chuck said, raising his voice. "It's too early to tell what exactly is happening," he added.

"So, your brain could still melt," Casey replied.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "That's unlikely," she said. "Orion estimates that it'll keep activating in lethal danger, or other, similarly stressful situations."

"Like sex?"

Sarah refused to take the bait. Casey was deliberately being crude, she realised.

"What? No, sex doesn't trigger the Intersect!" Chuck hadn't realised that, alas.

"He's trying to get a rise out of you, Chuck."

"What? Uh, I mean… oh." Chuck trailed off.

He looked cute when blushing, she noted, not for the first time. "We're not here to talk about that."

"Especially since there are no results, yet," Casey replied. "So, did he pick a target, then?"

Chuck looked surprised - he shouldn't underestimate Casey. The man was a spy, not the simple soldier he often played.

"Yes, he did. Marco Gonzàlez," she told Casey.

"Ah."

"You know him?" Chuck asked.

"I know of him. Never got the chance to plug him, but it seems my luck just changed," Casey said with a feral grin. "So, what's the plan?"

"We know where he lives, and we have a rough plan to infiltrate the building, but we'll need support from the Council for our cover," Sarah summed up.

Casey nodded. "He doesn't want us to use CIA resources. Smart."

Sarah nodded. "And he'll get to judge the Council's capabilities."

Chuck blinked, then slowly nodded.

Yes, Chuck, your Dad's a spy as well, and playing spy games, she thought. Out loud, she said: "This is his address according to Orion."

Casey glanced at the picture and the map. "That's going to a bitch to withdraw from, should things go pear-shaped."

"We could base jump if we're in a hurry?" Chuck said with a shy smile.

"Really? How many base jumps did you do so far?" Casey snarled.

"Well… none?"

Then why was he… oh. "Do you really want to bet your life on the Intersect being programmed to base jump?" Sarah asked. "Spies aren't usually trained for that."

"It's not exactly the same as parachuting," Casey said. "Close, but not the same."

"Uh… that's a good point." Chuck grimaced. "So… stairs or lift?"

"Lift shaft," Casey replied with a grin. "Stop the car above you, then rappel down quickly."

Sarah saw Chuck's expression and said: "Spies generally are trained in that technique."

"I hope that was included it in the Intersect," Chuck said.

"Didn't your dad give you a list?" Casey asked.

"Ah…" Chuck winced. "He didn't do my version. There were some changes, some self-selecting algorithm, probably some tinkering with the database... He doesn't know exactly what I can do and can't do when it triggers. And without knowing how to trigger it safely, we can't test it."

Casey shook his head as if that was Chuck's fault.

It wasn't, and Sarah would make sure to tell Chuck that.

After they finished some more preliminary planning.

California, Burbank, Buy More, January 17th, 2008

"A spy mission you can't tell Kirsten about?" Morgan asked, a little too loudly for Chuck's comfort - the Buy More's Entertainment Display Room wasn't really sound-proof.

"Not so loud," he whispered in response. "Yes. It involves my dad."

"Oh." Morgan blinked for a moment. "And you don't trust her?"

Chuck tilted his head slightly - like he had seen the general do. "Do you trust her with that?" It was his dad, after all.

"Err…" Morgan frowned as he seemed to mull it over. "Well…".

"You don't, do you?"

"I don't distrust her," Morgan protested.

"But you don't know if she can be trusted," Chuck said. It was obvious, really.

"I'm working on that," his friend said.

"Good. Please keep at it. Keep her busy," Chuck told him.

"Another distraction?"

"Yes."

"Oh." He nodded. "I can do that."

"Ask Phil for help if you need to. This cannot get back to the CIA, Morgan. This is big."

"I know, I know. You can count on me." His friend nodded. "Err… Are you going to test her? You know, feed her fake information and see if she betrays us? Because if you do, she probably expects it. Well, not probably - she does. She told me about this sort of stuff," Morgan went on.

"Ah." It seemed that the exchange of information hadn't been as one-sided as Chuck and the others had assumed - but what if Bane had an ulterior motive for telling Morgan about spy tactics? Chuck still wasn't very comfortable with this kind of spy mind games. He doubted he'd ever be, too. And he didn't want to become like Casey, whose only reason for not proposing to kill Bane was that the CIA would blame them.

*Yeah." Morgan nodded with a serious expression. "That's the really annoying thing about all of this, you know? That I don't know what to believe."

Chuck nodded with a wince - that was a very familiar feeling.

"How did you know you could trust Sarah?"

Chuck winced even more. "Uh… I just did, you know? Sort of."

"You trusted your heart?"

That sounded too sappy. Like in one of the series Ellie watched when her and Devon's shifts didn't align with each other. "It was a calculated risk," he lied.

"Ah." Morgan nodded, and Chuck couldn't help feeling as if his friend had heard a lot more - or something different - than what Chuck had intended to say.

California, Los Angeles, Echo Park, January 17th, 2008

The bonsai had been placed back on a shelf, Chuck noted as he took a seat in Casey's living room, next to Sarah. Next to an autographed picture of Ronald Reagan. Chuck still didn't know if that was just part of Casey's cover or his real life. As far as the man had a real life - even his Intersect file was redacted, after all.

And yet, they trusted him. Far more than Bane, whose file was more or less complete, as Dad had confirmed.

"Earth to Bartowski. Wake up," Casey said.

Huh? "I wasn't asleep!" Chuck protested. "I was gathering my thoughts!"

"You must be a real scatterbrain if that took you so long," the agent replied.

Was that a dig at the Intersect in his brain? Chuck wondered. Or just a biting comment?

"I've arranged for a set of fake IDs from the Council," Sarah said. "They should arrive within a week, or so he claims."

"Did he request our biometric data?" Casey asked.

"No."

"Willow probably already has access to our CIA files, so she could take the data from there," Chuck pointed out. He didn't think she had used magic to scan them, or something. "So, the IDs should be solid."

Casey scoffed but didn't comment. He probably was jealous. "What about Bane?" he asked, staring at Chuck.

"Uh…" Chuck coughed. "I talked to Morgan. He'll keep her distracted during our mission." After a moment, he added: "He, uh, also told me that she probably expects a test, or a trap, to see if she's loyal."

"Of course she would," he heard Sarah mutter.

"She won't risk her cover for minor secrets. It's either Orion's identity or magic," Casey said.

"And should she find out about Orion, she won't pass on that information through electronic channels," Sarah added.

"If she decides to pass on that intel," Chuck pointed out. They didn't know if Bane would do it, did they?

"If she does, she's dead," Casey said. "And she knows that."

Chuck was tempted to quote Moff Tarkin in response. But Tarkin had been wrong, hadn't he?

"So, if she wants to betray us, she will probably try to take us out, first," Sarah said.

"Uh."

"Don't fret, Bartowski," Casey said with a sneer. "We're prepared for that, And she knows that as well."

That wasn't really as reassuring as Casey probably thought it was. All those mind games… Perhaps Chuck had to check with the Scoobies how they handled working with Spike. Before the vampire got a soul, of course.

Because if you couldn't trust your allies, then that was of the bad, as Xander and the other Scoobies would say.

California, Burbank, Wienerlicious, January 20th, 2008

As she glanced at the spy flirting with Grimes, Sarah wished, not for the first time, that Bane had a different cover story than 'employee of Wienerlicious'. She knew that it made it easier to keep an eye on the spy, but it also made it easier for Bane to keep an eye on them - not that a trained spy would have trouble avoiding surveillance anyway.

But she really didn't like how Bane's presence intruded on her morning break with Chuck. This was supposed to be their time to relax and enjoy each other's presence, not spend it watching Bane and Grimes.

"Is something wrong?" Chuck asked.

She blinked. Had she let her thoughts show on her face? No. But Chuck had still picked up on her mood. "No," she said, then glanced over at Bane again.

"Oh." He looked surprised, then pensive. Did he understand why she was annoyed? "I didn't notice anything," he said in a low voice.

He didn't. She smiled. "Me neither," she replied. "It just feels a little crowded here."

"Oh!" Now he got it and started to smile as well. "We, uh could have our break somewhere else. Like… Uh."

She chuckled. There weren't many places that would be called romantic near the Buy More. Well, not unless you were a teenage mall rat. "Dinner tonight?"

"Ah, sure!" He beamed at her. "The usual table?"

"Yes." She took a sip from her soda to hide another glance at Bane and Grimes. They looked like a typical couple still in the honeymoon phase. But that didn't mean anything. Bane was good enough to fake it, and Grimes could have fallen for her despite knowing that she was a spy - he was naive enough to be fooled easily by Bane.

They still didn't know if they could trust the spy.

Well, Bane wouldn't try to do anything incriminating here, under Sarah's eyes. So she might as well enjoy the rest of her break with Chuck. She set her glass down and smiled. "And perhaps a little dancing, afterwards?"

"Sure! I'd love…" He was interrupted by his phone ringing. "It's Ellie," he told her after a glance, wincing. "Sorry."

"It's OK," she replied, watching him take the call.

"Hi, Sis!"

"As a matter of fact, yes."

"No, I was about to…"

"Tonight?"

"No… I mean… yes… Look… I have to ask Sarah."

What? She frowned. That didn't sound good.

"Ellie wants to have another 'wedding preparation dinner' this evening," Chuck told her as he handed her the phone.

There went their romantic evening.

California, Los Angeles, Echo Park, January 20th, 2008

"You know, you could have told her that we had plans."

Standing in front of her dresser, Sarah rolled her eyes before turning to frown at Chuck, who was standing in the door to their bedroom. "After you didn't?" That would have made Ellie blame her.

"Uh…" He winced. "You know how Ellie is when she has something on her mind."

"Yes, exactly." And Ellie was Chuck's sister - he could handle her. Should, at least.

He sighed. "Sorry, but…" He shrugged.

"Yes." She nodded and went back to dressing.

"We could still go dancing afterwards," Chuck said.

She glanced over her shoulder at him. "You remember the last such dinner?"

"Uh… I had successfully suppressed the memories," he said with a lopsided grin.

She had to laugh at that. "It shouldn't be as bad today," she said. "I think we went over the most controversial points already." Or so she hoped.

"...and Devon thinks we should take the white napkins while I think the turquoise ones will fit the colour on the walls better."

"All I said was that white usually goes with everything. I'm not set on it."

"Then we'll take turquoise ones. And the matching plates."

"But white plates look better."

Sarah had been wrong. The devil was, as the saying went, in the details. She forced herself to keep smiling as Ellie turned towards her. "What do you think, Sarah?"

"White is a classic," she said, "but a little colour doesn't hurt."

"See?" Ellie nodded at Devon. "She agrees."

"That didn't sound like agreement to me," Devon retorted. "Chuck?"

"Uh, what?"

"What do you think?" Devon cocked his head, looking at Chuck.

"Uh… I think both will look nice?"

"See, he agrees!" Devon said, smiling at the scowling Ellie.

Sarah closed her eyes for a moment - not that either of the two would notice - and sighed as the argument she had expected started in earnest. If this continued, then she doubted that there would be a wedding at all.

"Guys! Guys!" Chuck almost waved his arms, trying to interrupt Ellie and Devon's argument. "Guys!" He had to stop them.

"What?" Ellie snapped, turning to glare at him.

"Uh…" He swallowed, then smiled. "How about we take a break from all the planning?" Before they broke up over napkins and plates. She huffed, but his smile didn't waver. Much. "Please?"

"Yes," Sarah chimed in. "I think we've talked enough about the banquet."

Well, Chuck hadn't talked much about it, or at all. Neither had Sarah, now that he thought about it. "Alright!" He stood and started collecting the plates and cutlery, with Sarah quickly joining him, and waving off Ellie when she wanted to help as well.

"Perhaps we should have hired a wedding planner," he whispered as he started filling the dishwasher.

"They'd still have the last word on the decor," Sara replied on a low voice.

"But they'd sort it out with the planner, not with us," Chuck pointed out.

Judging by Sarah's expression, she disagreed. Drat. "Look," he said, glancing towards the living room, to check if Ellie and Devon were still frowning - glaring - at each other, "we have to do something before they plan this wedding into ruin or something."

"And how do you propose to do that?" she retorted with a toothy smile. "Without dragging us even more into this?"

"Uh…" He blinked. He hadn't actually thought that far. But there had to be something. He gasped. "Yes!" He turned around and marched into the living room. "Ellie! Devon! As an early wedding gift, we're giving you a weekend in Malibu!"

"What?" They were staring at him, obviously surprised. So was Sarah, he noticed. "Uh. There's this great resort there, the Malibu Beach Inn." Which he had seen in an ad earlier today for the first time, but no one had to know that. "So, you spend a weekend there, and if you like it, you can spend two weeks there during your honeymoon, hm?" He did his best to smile at them.

Devon grinned. "That's very generous of you! Thank you."

Ellie, on the other hand, frowned at him. "This isn't a plan to get us out of town because there's another apocalypse threatening the city, is it?"

He blinked, then shook his head. "No, no. I swear, Ellie, this isn't a plan to get you out of the city. We just want to be sure that you'll like your wedding gift, you know?"

"Yes," Sarah said, stepping up him and wrapping her arm around his waist, "it would be a shame if we'd pay you two weeks in a hotel you don't like."

Chuck had to struggle not to wince when he felt her pinch his side. Apparently, Sarah wasn't fond of his plan.

Ellie, though, was smiling now. "That is so thoughtful of you!"

"Of course." Chuck hoped that she wouldn't bring up Christmas gift he had bought for her in fifth grade. He hadn't known that Ellie hadn't been serious when she said she wanted a kitten. And he hadn't known that most demons considered kittens a delicacy.

But the argument had been dealt with, and that was worth whatever two weeks and a weekend in the inn cost.

"Did you check the prices before you picked the hotel?" Sarah, back in their apartment, asked after a quick search on her laptop.

"Uh…" Chuck stopped pulling his shirt off. "It was a spur of the moment thing."

"So, you didn't."

That didn't sound good. Not at all. "Uh. How much will this cost us? Me, I mean. It was my idea, and I didn't ask you, so I'll pay for it," he blurted out.

Without a word, she turned the laptop so the screen was facing him.

He blinked. That was… "Uh…" That was a lot of money.

"Well, it's a good thing you didn't spend much of your CIA salary so far," Sarah replied.

Chuck didn't quite whimper as he nodded, but he came close. "Well, it's not too expensive if it counts as couples therapy, right?"

She snorted, shaking her head.

He pouted. She could at least admit that he had saved them from being dragged into another row.

California, Burbank, The Castle, January 23rd, 2008

"Agents, Mr Bartowski, you've got a new mission," Beckman said in her usual no-nonsense manner. "We've discovered that the schematics for a new prototype scanner have been stolen from a CIA laboratory and the copies have been deleted. The thief has been apprehended, but he had already handed over the stolen data to a courier. Fortunately, we've had surveillance on the courier due to an unrelated case and so we've managed to track him to the apparent location where he's supposed to make the drop."

She tapped a key, and a new picture appeared on the screen next to her head. A very familiar picture, Chuck realised with a sinking feeling.

"The courier, Keith Adams, a former race car driver, is staying in the Malibu Beach Inn this weekend," Beckman continued. "He's booked Thursday to Sunday."

Chuck closed his eyes. No.

"Your mission is to apprehend whoever is coming to pick up the stolen schematics and secure the data."

No.

"Shouldn't we secure the data as soon as possible to minimise the risk of losing it?" Casey asked.

"No, it was deemed too much of a risk. We need to catch the courier's contact without them growing suspicious. We suspect this is a ploy of Fulcrum, so this is of crucial importance," the general explained.

Damn.

"Mr Bartowski, is there a problem?"

"Uh…" Chuck winced. "My sister and her fiancé are spending the weekend in the hotel there."

"Really."

It was remarkable how much annoyance the general managed to pack into a single word, Chuck noted.

California, Los Angeles, Echo Park, January 23rd, 2008

"Well… that could've gone better," Chuck said after they had returned home. Beckman had torn a strip off his hide. So to speak. The woman could be nastier than… no, Snyder had still been nastier when he got going.

"It could've gone worse, too," Sarah replied. "We're still on the mission."

"And Ellie and Devon's weekend hasn't been cancelled," Chuck pointed out. It might be a little petty, but he'd have hated to have to cancel the weekend and spend all that money for nothing. And explaining the reasons to Ellie...

"Because the general thinks we'll be finished with the mission before they arrive," Sarah retorted.

"Uh…" Chuck blinked. "You don't seem to share that view?" It had sounded logical to him that the bad guys would get the transfer done as soon as possible. Thursday evening. Friday at the latest.

"There's always the possibility of delays. Flights get missed or cancelled, accidents happen, mistakes are made…" Sarah shrugged as she sat down on the couch. "Good spies will plan for that."

The general wasn't a good spy? Chuck frowned.

She must have noticed his reaction since she added: "That's why we've got the whole weekend booked ourselves."

"Ah. And that's why we didn't simply replace Ellie and Devon," Chuck said. The general had explained that Fulcrum was probably monitoring the hotel already.

"That's one explanation," Sarah said.

"One explanation?" he echoed her. She was pressing her lips together in that manner of hers she did when she had bad news, he noticed.

"She should have made us cancel their reservations," Sarah said. "The risk of that drawing attention from Fulcrum is minimal. Certainly less than the risk of them breaking our cover, and Fulcrum's operatives catching on."

"What?" He gasped. "But why would the general…" he trailed off. "Oh."

"Yes. If they get involved, she might try to push for protective measures involving them," Sarah told him.

"And I'd owe them." Or worse.

"Yes."

He sighed. "I don't like these sort of games." He really didn't.

"That's part of a spy's life," she told him. "Wheels within wheels."

"Well, at least we won't have to deal with that once we're working for the Council," he said.

She pressed her lips together once more.

"What?" He knew the Scoobies. He trusted them.

"We still haven't gotten the cover IDs," she said.

"Because Willow's, uh, in need of rest after an incident in Marseille," he pointed out. "And she's their best hacker." Probably their only decent one, too.

"Do you think they haven't already been preparing fake IDs for us, ever since we got in contact with them about working for the Council?" she retorted. "With the means at their disposal?"

"Uh…" That would have been logical.

"They either are stalling for some reason, or they need Willow to do something before they hand the IDs over," Sarah explained.

"Oh." That sounded a little paranoid to Chuck. But pointing out that this could've been an honest mishap was probably not a good idea, Chuck decided. That might make the Council look unprofessional in her eyes.

On the other hand, the Scoobies had been at that for years. Wouldn't they have planned ahead?

Drat. Chuck was turning paranoid himself.

California, Malibu, Malibu Beach Inn, January 24th, 2008

"So… this looks pretty nice for a Buy More training event," Chuck joked as they got out of their car in front of the hotel.

"Play your role, nerd," Casey's voice sounded in his ear.

Chuck frowned. The CIA had arranged for their cover at the Buy More - his and Casey's, Sarah and bane were supposed to be sick - after all, so that had been an obvious joke. Perhaps too obvious? It wasn't as if anyone could overhear them. "I'm Charles Carmichael, got it." He could do that role in his sleep by now. Mostly.

Sarah smiled as she hooked her arm into his, and they entered the lobby while one valet parked their sports car and another fetched their luggage.

He pretended not to notice them - he was a rich software entrepreneur, after all, and used to this sort of treatment. And he didn't blink at paying the hotel's exorbitant rates. Even if Chuck did, in private. He might have earned a lot of working for the CIA, but money had been a little tight for most of his life after his parents had disappeared. Spending so much on a few days still felt wrong.

He cleared his throat. He was Charles Carmichael. And he was on a mission. Time to check in. And then start the surveillance. The parts Bane, working as a temporary waitress in the pool area, and Casey from the outside, couldn't do, at least.

And hope that Fulcrum was doing the transfer tonight. Or tomorrow before the evening, at least. Because that was when Ellie and Devon would arrive.

Half an hour later, they were strolling through the hotel - 'doing recon', as Casey called it over the radio. Chuck still wasn't sure if the hotel's amenities were worth the price, but it certainly was a very nice hotel. Better than the resort in Jamaica, he decided after a trip through the lobby and a peek at the pool area.

"Did you flash on anything?" Sarah asked in a low voice as they headed to the bar.

"No," he replied. He would have told her, of course - if she had missed it. Although... she might be asking for the benefit of Casey and Bane.

"The courier hasn't left his room yet," Casey announced over the radio in Chuck's ear.

"Hasn't ordered room service either," Bane added over the same channel. "He'll probably dine in the restaurant. Easier to make contact with the agent that way."

Yes, having your contact walk up to your room and knock wouldn't be very subtle. Even Chuck could see that. "Well, we've got the main stairs and lifts covered - we'll spot him once he appears," he said, lips hidden behind the rim of his cocktail glass.

"You better." Casey was, as usual, very encouraging.

"So… what do you think?" Chuck asked, leaning against the bar in a relaxed pose. Well, as close to relaxed that he could manage on a mission.

"About?" Sarah replied. She glanced at him but then returned to watching the lobby.

"The hotel," he said. "For Ellie and Devon, I mean." They couldn't just wait without talking, could they? That would endanger their cover, wouldn't it?

"I think she'll be impressed by the amount of money you're willing to spend."

"Really?" he perked up.

"Not favourably, though," Sarah added, tilting her head to look at him with a rather sardonic expression.

"Oh." Of course - Ellie was a practical woman, after all. Still, this was related to her honeymoon, so perhaps that would sway her. And she might also appreciate that he could spend so much money on her thanks to his new job.

Which, he realised with a sinking feeling in his stomach, would mean that she would be even less happy about their eventual employment by the Council.

A swallow of his cocktail - worth the price, at least - dealt with his stomach. He wasn't a teenager any more; Ellie would have to accept that he made his own choices in his life nowadays.

"There." Sarah's hissed announcement interrupted his thoughts.

He turned his head and saw Adams walking down the stairs. The former race car driver looked very fit for his fifty years, though Chuck thought that the man's tan looked a little overdone. And sunglasses in the evening? Indoors? That was just tacky. Almost as tacky as the golden lighter Adams was toying with while… Chuck blinked. And flashed. He saw a laboratory. Schematics. Technical data. And explosions.

"The lighter," he whispered as soon as he recovered.

"What?"

"It's a custom-made CIA device, with a solid-state drive built into it. And a self-destruction function based on an NSA incinerator tied to a biometric scanner!" he added with more than a little concern. Those things were nasty.

"What? Are you sure?" Casey asked.

"Yes. Well, I flashed on the lighter's model, but they might've disabled the self-destruct," Chuck replied.

"I doubt that," Casey said with a scoff.

So did Chuck, but he'd had to mention it.

"That will make retrieving the data more difficult," Sarah commented as they watched Adams enter the restaurant. "Can you disarm it?"

"Uh…" Could he? He closed his eyes for a moment, going over the data in his head. "Yes," he said, with more confidence than he felt. He could do it - he had the tools, the knowledge and the skills. It was like bypassing the security of a sophisticated phone that the owner had accidentally locked.

Only that phones generally didn't explode with enough force to completely destroy a car if you made a mistake.

Sarah looked at him for a moment, then nodded. "Good. We won't make a move until we've identified his contact, though."

"Of course," he agreed. He had been briefed, after all.

"He's sitting alone at a table," Bane reported. Apparently, she had transferred to the restaurant staff.

"Good, keep him covered," Casey said.

"Won't be too hard - he's staring down my cleavage."

Chuck almost snorted at the comment before he saw Sarah's expression. She wasn't amused. "So… let's go eat dinner?" he asked with his best smile.

"Yes," she agreed, relaxing. "Let's."

Chuck put his now empty glass down on the bar counter, nodding. "Good. I'm feeling a little…"

"Bartowski? Chuck Bartowski?"

He blinked. A woman was headed straight towards him, trailed by an amused-looking man. Both well-dressed, but that was a given in this hotel.

She was beaming at him. "It is you! Wow, I would never have expected to meet you here!" She turned to address the man with her. "Ralph, this is Chuck Bartowski, we went to high school together!"

He finally recognised her. Aphrodesia Walker - a member of Cordelia's clique in Sunnydale who he hadn't seen since graduation. Apparently, she had a better memory for people than he had. And she had just blown his cover.

This was bad. Very bad.