Chapter 27: The Game Night Part 2
California, Burbank, The Castle, January 29th, 2008
Chuck cringed at Sarah's glare but stood his ground. It hadn't been his idea to send the two Slayers to the training room, after all. Granted, he hadn't had any idea how to keep them from wrecking the briefing room with all the electronics, either, but still… "We could bill the Council?"
"NO!" two people yelled out in unison from the infirmary of the base.
Right, Slayer hearing.
"We should, yes, "Sarah, somewhat predictably, agreed.
"No!" A heavily bandaged Caridad, still wearing the tattered remains of her Wienerlicious uniform, appeared in the door to the infirmary. "You sent us there, and you knew this would happen! This is entrapment!"
A moment later, she was pushed aside by an equally bandaged Vi. "And how would you explain what we did, anyway?" She shook her head, seemingly unconcerned about her black eye and bandaged temple, until Caridad elbowed her away again. "Hey!"
"Yeah! That's classified information!"
"And how do you propose to explain the damage done to the base?" Sarah asked.
"Uh… shoddy workmanship?"
"A grenade explosion?"
"A short-circuit started a fire?"
"The base was built by a trusted contractor," Sarah replied. "And the damage doesn't show any sign of either a blast or a fire."
"We can change that!" Vi retorted with a bright smile. "Fire pretty!"
"Or we can say Chuck or Morgan had a mishap with a flamethrower," Caridad added.
"What? Why should I take the blame for this?" Chuck protested. Morgan, maybe - but he hadn't done anything wrong.
"Because you're the crucial intersect, so they can't punish you?" Caridad beamed at him.
"No," Chuck replied in his best flat voice.
"Did you just suggest setting fire to the base?" Sarah asked with a flabbergasted expression that Chuck had rarely seen on her face.
"Only to the broken parts," Caridad replied.
"We do that all the time if something breaks in a fight so the owners can claim their insurance," Vi added.
"We're talking about the CIA, not some private citizen," Chuck pointed out. "Part of the US government."
"That means they'll know how to pull off a scam to get money, right?" Vi beamed at him despite her swollen cheek.
Chuck closed his eyes. "Let's call Phil."
"No!"
"No!"
"Well… that's a lot of damage," Brown-Smythe said, looking around. "I thought this was supposed to be a sparring match." He glanced at the two Slayers who, Sarah noticed, didn't meet his eyes.
"It was an enthusiastic sparring match?" Vi said, cocking her head.
"We got a little over-enthusiastic?" Caridad added.
That was an understatement. Watching two Slayers go at each other had been very impressive. Terrifying, if Sarah was honest. They had literally torn up the room with their bare hands and feet. And, in Caridad's case, at least once with their forehead.
And they were still - or again - up and moving with hardly any sign of being handicapped by the damage they had suffered. If Sarah had been hurt in a similar way, she'd been unable to fight for a week. Hell, if she had taken one of the blows the two Slayers had exchanged, she'd be dead.
It really wasn't fair. Spies risked their lives as well, but without any supernatural advantage. And Sarah would soon be fighting demons more than enemy spies.
"So, Phil… what do you think we should do?" Chuck asked. "We can't exactly explain this on a damage report."
"Make something up. Perhaps an accident," the Watcher said. Caridad perked up, and Vi smiled, Sarah noticed. Until he continued: "Caused by Caridad and Miss O'Malley, of course." Both Slayers gasped.
"The damage is a bit too specific for that," Sarah pointed out.
"That can be solved," Brown-Smythe retorted. "Water damage, or a small fire with smoke damage - provided you remove the more telling parts before the workers arrive to restore the room."
That would be a lot of work. The room had been quite sturdy.
"I'm sure the two girls will be happy to help move the broken parts. Right?"
"Yes…"
"There goes my evening…"
Brown-Smythe tsked at them. "If you had behaved in a manner befitting responsible adults, this wouldn't have happened in the first place."
"But we're still hurt!" Caridad exclaimed.
"Then you'd have to stay at home anyway," the Watcher replied. "And this is light duty compared to combat."
"That's all your fault!"
"What? You started it!"
"Children…"
Sarah shook her head. All the Slayers she'd seen so far had acted in a rather immature manner. So had the Scoobies, though.
At least Casey wasn't around. That would have probably spelt disaster.
California, Los Angeles, Echo Park, January 30th, 2008
Sarah was ready for bed - for sleep - when they finally got home. Between setting up a lease for the apartment Downtown and making sure the Slayers didn't demolish more of the base by tearing out structural support beams while 'cleaning up', it was shortly before midnight when Sarah and Chuck managed to leave.
And supervising grumpy Slayers, even when they were slowed down by their wounds, was surprisingly hard. Those women seemed to have a natural gift for wrecking things. And people, Sarah reminded herself.
But now they were home, and she could finally rest.
"Say, Sarah…"
She closed her eyes - with her back to Chuck - and suppressed a sigh. "Yes?"
"Do you think Bane will grow suspicious when we start sleeping in the new apartment?"
She turned and saw that Chuck hadn't started to change into his pyjamas. He wasn't idly wondering, but honestly worried, then. She flashed him a smile. "Casey and Morgan will run interference."
"Ah." He slowly nodded, then licked his lips, once. "Uh, do you think that will be enough?"
"It should." Casey wouldn't let them down. Grimes… Chuck's friend had better come through for them.
"That's not really reassuring," he said.
She shrugged. "Do you want me to lie to you?"
"What? No, never!" He smiled at her. "I'm just a little nervous."
"Well, we've got a good chance to pull this off," she told him. "But nothing is ever a hundred per cent sure."
"Apart from death and taxes?" His smile turned into a grin.
She nodded, chuckling. Even though she wasn't sure about death any more. The things she had heard and overheard, but never wanted to ask about… "Let's head to bed," she told Chuck. "You've got your event preparations tomorrow, and we've got a mission starting in two days."
The lease would start per on February 1st. A day before the game night. Wonderful timing.
California, Burbank, Buy More, January 30th, 2008
There were more customers in the store than usual, Chuck noticed when he arrived in the morning. At this time of the day, on a Thursday, the store was usually almost empty. The store was almost empty, he noticed with narrowed eyes. Empty of staff. Well, almost empty - one register was staffed by a new hiree, Mark, Kim was at the helpdesk, and Casey was occupied trying to help an old lady pick a tv.
He quickly scanned the rest of the store. Scattered green shirts. No Nerd Herders there either.
Pressing his lips together, he made a beeline towards the home entertainment display room, ducking behind the 'games shelves' to avoid getting dragged off to help with a customer.
He heard the sounds of heavy gaming before he reached the door. Yelling, cheering, heckling. Shaking his head, he entered and quickly went to stand in front of the main TV screen. "Alright, the party's over," he told the assembled staff - the usual suspects, led by Jeff and Lester, no doubt, but missing Morgan it seemed. "Back to work, everyone!"
"What?" Lester, holding a controller, jumped up. "You want us to work in the middle of the night! It's true, then - management is full of slave drivers! No more, I say!"
'In the middle of the night'? What the… Chuck blinked as more of the crowd got up and joined what was rapidly shaping up to become an impromptu strike committee. He looked around and saw that everyone was up in arms, brandishing game controllers and junk food packages. "Guys… guys…" No one was listening. "GUYS!" he yelled, channelling Casey, "STOP THIS AT ONCE!"
To his own surprise, it worked - everyone seemed to freeze for a moment, gaping at him.
He seized the moment. "It's nine in the morning, guys!" he snapped. "The store's already open."
"What? That's impossible!"
"It was barely midnight last I checked!"
"Can't be!"
"Are you joking?"
Chuck crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at them. "Do I look like I'm joking? Check your damn phones!"
"Oh my God! It's morning!"
"Damn!"
"Oh, no!"
"Does this count as overtime?"
"No, it doesn't," Chuck snarled at Jeff. "How on earth did you manage to game all night without even noticing the time?" The last time Chuck had done that had been in his teenage years. And none of the people facing him was a teenager anymore. So how… He blinked as he saw the stack of energy drink cases in the back, behind a sleeping Anna. Empty cases.
He turned to stare at Lester, who cringed. "Uh… we're checking who gets to sponsor the game night. Those were free samples."
Chuck closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. His staff had spent the night playing video games and overdosing on caffeine. If he remembered his teenage years, they'd be crashing around noon. Probably - he and Moran usually had drunk cheap soda, not expensive energy drinks. "Get back to work before I send Casey in," he said.
The room emptied out in record time, leaving him and Anna, who, apparently, had fallen asleep and hadn't woken up yet. He suddenly tensed. Had she actually overdosed? Did she need medical attention?
He quickly went to check, then relaxed when he realised that she was merely asleep with her ears plugged.
Well, that meant he'd have at least one decent worker in the afternoon. Big Mike would still kill him. Not literally, of course.
And why hadn't Morgan been here? Chuck's friend hadn't been at the base, either, now that he thought about it…
And Morgan wasn't in the store, either, Chuck saw once he had herded Anna back to work. He pulled out his phone and texted him.
Where are you?
He looked at the message. Perhaps that was a little too direct. Not quite rude, but if Morgan was hurt, it would look rather…
"Hi, Chuck!"
There he was! Morgan came towards him, and he seemed fine. Not hurt or stressed. Chuck felt relieved - and a little envious. "Sorry, overslept a little," his friend said, looking around. "But no harm done."
Chuck didn't quite scowl, but he didn't smile, either. "I had to break up an early game night," he told him.
"Oh?" Morgan blinked. "Wow, they take training very seriously - staying late yesterday, and starting early today just to train is impressive."
"They didn't stop in between. Or went home," Chuck explained.
"Oh."
"Yes," Chuck agreed. "And they're hopped up on energy drinks."
Morgan winced. "Enough to play through the night? They'll crash hard."
"Yes. Speaking of playing through the night…" Chuck raised his eyebrows at him. If Morgan hadn't been at the 'training session', and not in the base…
"Ah." Morgan's smile looked a little forced as he glanced around. "I was with Kirsten."
"You usually are, aren't you?" Chuck replied. They weren't living together, not officially, at least, but Morgan probably spent more time at her apartment than at his home. Well, Chuck would do the same if he were living with his mother and she were dating Big Mike.
"Well, yes." His friend grinned widely. "But we had a romantic outing, and then, well…"
Chuck could connect the dots. He nodded. "I see."
"Yeah!" Morgan got enthusiastic. "We first went to that Mexican restaurant Ellie liked before they fired the cook, and then we went clubbing."
The way his friend blushed at the clubbing, Chuck really needed any further details. "I see", he said quickly. "So, I need to check on the preparations for Saturday. You're in charge of wrangling the greenshirts."
His friend gaped at him. "What?"
"You're the only one with enough experience currently not hyper from caffeine," Chuck explained before adding: "Welcome to being the responsible adult in the room." Delegating was a key part of management, after all, and this was mainly Morgan's fault, anyway.
His grin didn't fade until he opened his mail folder and discovered that the press would be attending the event as well.
California, Burbank, Wienerlicious, January 30th, 2008
"So you left Morgan in charge?"
Sarah's comment made it sound worse than it was, in Chuck's opinion. "He's got the experience," he replied. "And he's not drunk on caffeine. Besides, he's used to handling Caridad." And even the misfits of the Buy More had nothing on a Slayer when it came to causing trouble.
She frowned at that. "He wasn't around when we needed him last night."
"Ah, he was, uh, keeping Bane busy," Chuck said, glancing at the woman in question, who was currently flirting with a regular customer.
"Ah."
Sarah didn't look like she appreciated that as much as she probably should, given their need for exactly such distractions for their upcoming off-the-book mission. Speaking of the mission... "Uh, there's bad news as well," he said.
"What?"
He squirmed a little under her sudden, sharp focus. "There'll be a newspaper and a TV crew at the game night. Local TV," he clarified.
"There's still a not-insignificant chance that someone we've met or will meet during the operation will watch the broadcast," she said.
"I know." He had hoped she would tell him differently. "So, what can we do? Sabotage their records?"
"As a last resort," she replied. "Try to keep out of sight and away from the press."
He grimaced. "That might be a little difficult." Big Mike wouldn't mind being praised for the idea, but he would leave all technical questions - and any questions related to actual gaming - to Chuck.
"Make yourself scarce. Be busy backstage and stay away from the reporters." Sarah snorted. "I think the contestants will be fascinating enough for a report."
Chuck sighed. That was what he feared. Big Mike would be happy to take the praise, but if things didn't turn out perfectly, Chuck already knew who'd get the blame.
At least he wasn't relying on the job any more. Just in case things went really wrong. "Speaking of, how goes the catering?"
Sarah immediately scowled. "Based on the expected number of participants and visitors, we'll be busy all night making hot dogs."
"Even with Caridad helping?" Chuck asked.
"Especially with her helping," she replied.
What would… Oh. The Slayer would be helping herself to food, first. "Sorry," he said.
She nodded in acknowledgement, which didn't make him feel any better.
And he still hadn't solved all logistical problems with the event. Jeff and Lester still had to deliver enough consoles for everyone, for example. Chuck could only hope that they'd manage not to mess up before they crashed from their caffeine high.
Mess up too much, he amended his thought - he was familiar with the duo, after all. More than he wanted to be.
California, Burbank, Buy More, January 30th, 2008
At noon, the staff break room looked like it had been taken over by zombies. Employees were sitting or lying on all suitable and a few unsuitable surfaces, sleeping or mumbling incoherently. Chuck had to pull Kurt's face out of his lunch before the man accidentally drowned, and the smeared pasta sauce on his skin made him even look like an undead.
"Uh… Caridad's not coming over, right?" he asked Morgan. It as unlikely, what with Casey manning the store, but you never knew with Slayers. They were rather impulsive.
His friend looked up from where he had recovered the microwave from being used as a pillow by Al. "What? Not that I'd know, but I don't know her plans, you know? Why?"
"Because she might start slaying the staff here by mistake," Chuck answered.
Morgan blinked, then laughed in response. "It might be a mercy killing," he said. "Poor guys. Can't handle their caffeine, I guess."
"And you could?" Chuck asked. He remembered their teenage years.
"Oh, sure," Morgan told him, pushing another employee back from the table. "Working through the night without wrecking yourself is an unofficial Watcher skill. Phil does it with tea, Dawn's into coffee, but there's a handbook about picking the right dose."
Chuck blinked. The more you knew… "That sounds useful."
"Oh, yes! Saved my bacon lots of times," Morgan agreed, unwrapping his sub.
Chuck rolled his eyes. "That was polite code for 'share'."
"Oh!" Morgan laughed. "I'm a little slow today, sorry. I'll get you a copy later."
"Thanks."
"Aren't you going to eat your own lunch?" Morgan asked between two bites.
"Once I found Jeff and Lester," Chuck replied. "I thought they'd be here. They're not in the home entertainment display room, either." They were his employees, so he was responsible for them, so leaving them collapsed somewhere wouldn't do. And it wouldn't look good for the store, either. It was bad enough that they were reduced to a skeleton crew for the afternoon - he was still wondering if he should blame the flu or food poisoning.
"Ah, they went to fetch more consoles," Morgan told him.
"What?" Chuck froze for a moment. "They went driving in their state?" Jeff and Lester were dead. Either in traffic or when he got them.
"Huh? Oh, don't worry, they took another case of energy drinks. They'll last until they're back; I checked the dose." His friend gave him a thumb's up.
Chuck wasn't so sure about using the Watcher's caffeine intake guide any more. "And where did they go to get the consoles?" He hadn't received any requisition forms from them, or requests for a budget.
"Lester had an idea about saving money," Morgan said.
Chuck suddenly wasn't hungry any more. Not with his stomach sinking to the floor.
Jeff and Lester arrived two hours past noon with a van. A Buy More van, Chuck noticed when he went to meet them, which he didn't remember signing out. At least it didn't look damaged.
"Chuck!" Lester waved at him. "Come, look at that! It's great!"
Chuck pasted a weak smile on his face. "What did you do?"
"Got us the consoles we needed!" Lester declared, nodding like a bobblehead as he opened the back of the van. "See? See? Three dozen consoles!"
The back was packed with consoles, indeed. And a sleeping Jeff. But… "Where did you get them? And how much did they cost?" And where did they get the money to pay for them?
"Oh, we had a great idea!" Lester declared, beaming at Chuck. That made him look far more deranged than friendly, Chuck noticed. "Christmas was last month, right?"
"Yes?"
"So, we knew that there's bound to be tons of returns. Grandparents buy the wrong console, kids break stuff or get bored, parents listen to the voice channels and getting worked up over the language… you know it."
Chuck nodded. The typical trash-talk during a deathmatch made sailors blush. And parents froth at the mouth. "So, you raided the return bins?"
"We raided the return bins!" Lester nodded rapidly. "And we didn't even have to pay anything - officially, we're repairing and testing the entire stack before we resell them!"
That was… well, Chuck wouldn't call it genius. But it was a decent idea. Certainly creative. And in the spirit of the event fostering cooperation. It had just one drawback. "You're aware that you need to actually repair and test them before the event, right?" He narrowed his eyes. "We wouldn't want to provide the contestants with broken consoles, would we?"
Lester blinked at him but didn't answer.
"That would be cheating," Chuck went on. "Anyway - you've got two days to do it, so I suggest you get to work…" He trailed off when he realised that Lester was asleep on his feet, slowly sliding down the side of the van against which he had been leaning.
Chuck closed his eyes and muttered a curse under his breath that Casey was fond of using. Great. Just great.
California, Burbank, Buy More, January 31st, 2008
Chuck finished replacing the loose sensor and shook his head. What had the customer done to the controller? Thrown it around the room a few dozen times? Well, Chuck would be lying if he claimed that he'd never done something similar. As a teenager. Young teenager. But he wouldn't have returned the entire console for a 'broken' controller.
He sighed and checked the time. Uh-oh. His shift was almost over. Sarah wouldn't be happy if he were to pull overtime. Not when they had to check on their 'new apartment' tonight. And it really wasn't his job to fix all the consoles Jeff and Lester had brought. Even if fixing one or two had been a nice way to keep his skills up.
He stood and checked on the duo behind the wall formed by stacked boxes. They had fallen asleep again, which he had expected. But they had managed to fix at least two consoles each, which was a pleasant surprise. That didn't change the fact that they were still sleeping instead of working, though. So he shook their shoulders, waking them up. "Hey! No sleeping on company time!"
"Huh? What? I wasn't sleeping! I was merely… Chuck! Don't scare me!" Lester complained.
Jeff merely grunted and glared.
"I mean it, guys. Don't sleep here. You've had the whole last night to catch up on the sleep you missed yesterday."
"Err…" Lester looked away.
"You did go home, as I told you, and rest, didn't you?" Chuck said, narrowing his eyes.
"Yes, yes! We went home and rested!" Lester blurted out.
"Playing games counts as rest, yes?" Jeff said at the same time.
Chuck closed his eyes and groaned. "Guys… Why did you do this? You were barely able to walk yesterday evening."
"We had to train!" Lester replied. "The honour of our store is at stake!"
"Yes," Jeff nodded.
"If we don't completely destroy the other stores, we'll be the laughingstock of the whole chain!" Lester shook his head. "We wanted to sleep and take it easy, but sometimes, a man has to do what a man has to do. For the Buy More!"
"Really." Chuck shook his head. "Now finish your work here, and then go home. And don't game. You won't be saving anyone's honour if you fall asleep at the event."
"Oh, don't worry, we can sleep on Saturday afternoon!" Lester said with a bright smile.
Chuck glared at him. "No, you can't. We need everyone to handle the store and set things up." To forestall any further discussion, he added: "Casey will be supervising you."
Both paled quite noticeably, so Chuck hoped that they'd heed his warning.
Sighing again, he left the repair room, as Morgan had dubbed the repurposed storage room, and went back to the store - and ran right into an argument at the helpdesk.
"I want to see the manager! This is outrageous!"
Chuck winced. Not at the volume of the red-faced customer's complaint, but at Anna's scowl. The woman was one of the best employees of the store - not that that was a high bar to clear - but she had a temper and a violent side. Not even close to a Slayer, of course, but still… another assault charge wouldn't look good for either her or the management. Which meant Chuck.
So he pasted a smile on his face and quickly approached the desk. "Hi! I'm the manager. What seems to be the problem, sir?" he asked in his best 'helpful store clerk' voice.
"The problem is that this woman won't give me back my console! She's trying to foist a new one on me!"
That was a new complaint. Usually, customers tried to exchange their old and broken consoles for a new one. Chuck cocked his head and looked at Anna.
"He wants his specific console back. He returned it and got a new one at another store," she explained.
"And I'm giving it back! Good as new!" the customer interrupted her.
"That's the oldest trick in the book!" Anna retorted with a snarl. "I've used it myself as a kid!"
That wasn't a surprise to Chuck, but something that shouldn't be said aloud, in his opinion. He cleared his throat.
"You can check it! Hell, I'll pay for it, but I need my original console back!"
Chuck coughed loudly. "Sir… that seems a little excessive." And fishy.
The man glanced from Chuck to Anna and back, then leaned forward. "Please… it's embarrassing…"
"Embarrassing?" Chuck blinked, then nodded. "Ah." He lowered his voice. "Porn?" Well, not porn, but perhaps some embarrassing game saves? Chuck wasn't up to date about the latest adult import games, but there was a grey market for original Japanese games for a reason.
The other man nodded.
"Don't worry. We wipe the memory of all our consoles before we resell them," Chuck told him with a smile before glaring at the smirking Anna.
"But I need my console back."
"Sorry, sir, but odds are it has already been memory wiped. We're very efficient," Chuck lied.
The man stared at him as if Chuck had told him that he had mailed the content to the man's wife. Shaking his head, the customer turned away, muttering something Chuck didn't catch.
"Some people!" Anna exclaimed as soon as the man was out of sight. "Why can't they use a PC, like normal people?"
Chuck shrugged. "Perhaps because their wife is less likely to snoop around in a console?"
Anna giggled. "Hey… I've got the man's order number. Wanna see what kind of embarrassing secret he had?" She raised the card she had been filling out.
"What? No!" Chuck told her. "Gimme the report!" he took the card and pocketed it.
The last thing he needed was for the repair crew to go porn hunting instead of fixing the consoles.
California, Los Angeles, Downtown Los Angeles, February 1st, 2008
"...and the bed goes there, opposite the dresser." Sarah pointed at the two spots in the designated bedroom so the two movers standing in the entrance hall of the apartment wouldn't mix them up, as had happened before.
Working with a civilian company was good for their cover, but she would have preferred slightly more competent people to direct. The dresser and bed wouldn't be housing surveillance gear, so their precise placement wasn't as critical as the sideboard for the home entertainment system. Still, if she had to live here for a few weeks, in the worst case, then Sarah preferred to have the apartment laid out according to her - and Chuck's - preferences.
Speaking of Chuck… She gave the two movers another look, then went back to the living room. Ah. As expected, he was already setting up the TV. "I'd have thought you were sick of doing that stuff," she said with a teasing smile.
He chuckled in that slightly embarrassed way of his that she found charming. "Uh…" he looked around to check for witnesses. "It's not quite the same as dealing with broken electronics." He pointed at the flatscreen. "That's a high-end piece, too. Latest technology."
"A challenge, then?"
He snorted. "Not quite a challenge. But it's a very good TV."
Which probably meant he wanted one for their apartment after this mission. Well, they could afford it. Even after Chuck's gift to Ellie and Devon. "Let's go and get the devices you really want to install?" she asked.
He blinked and looked a little confused. "Aren't we waiting with them until we're set up?"
As expected - he knew that they couldn't exactly install surveillance gear while the movers were still around. "The gaming console and DVD player," she told him with a smirk. "The things you didn't want others to touch."
He glared at her in return, but it was more of a pout, in her opinion, and she gave him a peck on the cheek before they left the apartment.
That mollified him. "The apartment is set up great, with regards to the electrical systems, though. Lots of outlets everywhere. Installing things in older houses is a pain - and some people don't want to accept that their setup can't handle the new electronics," he told her once they were inside the lift.
"It's expensive enough to easily cover that," she reminded him. They could afford a new TV, but rebuilding the house was stretching the limits a little. Unless the Council had a generous housing budget.
"Oh, yes. Still…" He trailed off as the lift arrived on the first floor of the garage.
"So, console and player… and the speakers in the green box?" Sarah said, to keep up appearances as the door opened. They hadn't yet surveillance on these areas of the building, after all.
"Yes, I think that…" Chuck trailed off again, staring at the young woman in a maid's uniform facing them with two bags of groceries. No, he was flashing, Sarah realised.
"Ah, hello," she spoke up to divert the girl's attention from him to her. A maid's uniform? Really? At least it wasn't a French maid's uniform. On the other hand, you could hide a lot under that. "We're moving into the apartment on the seventh floor. I'm Sarah Black," she added with a smile.
"Uh, hello," Chuck managed to say. "Charles. Chalres Black."
"Juanita Gomez," the woman replied with a polite smile. "I work for Mr Gonzàlez. Good evening."
"Good evening."
Gomez kept smiling as she walked past them into the lift. As soon as the lift had left the floor, Sarah turned to look at Chuck.
"She's Margarita Lopez. Suspect in a dozen cartel killings in Mexico," Chuck whispered, looking around.
Ah. "His bodyguard, then." Sarah nodded as they walked to their car. The woman might need to be dealt with as well. Perhaps they could frame her for the murder - arrange some domestic drama resulting in a murder-suicide?
They'd need more information about the woman, though, to successfully set up something like that. And check with Casey.
"Margarita Lopez? I've heard of her, yes," Casey said a few hours later, inside their new, if temporary, apartment. "Stone-cold killer. Likes to drag it out, too, or so I've heard."
Definitely a good choice to frame for the killing, Sarah thought.
"Uh… how does that work together?" Chuck asked. "Stone-cold and sadistic? Aren't they kind of mutually exclusive?"
Casey gave her a look as if he expected her to educate Chuck about the finer points of assassins' psychology before he addressed Chuck. "It means she's a professional killer who'll murder you without a qualm if she's told to, but that she'll take her time and enjoy it if she can afford it."
"Or is told to," Sarah added. "The cartels like to make examples out of their victims." Torture them to death, often.
"Ah." Chuck winced, and Casey grinned.
"Don't let the cute uniform fool you. She's an assassin. We need to take her out quickly, once we make our move."
"Uh, sure."
"We'll handle her," Sarah told him. "You're handling the electronics."
"Right. Computer guy, that's me."
"Unless your Intersect kicks in," Casey pointed out with a sneer. He looked around in the apartment. "So, let's get to work. You can try out the bed once we're done here. Don't stay up too late - we've got a long day tomorrow thanks to the stupid idea of Bartowski and his idiot friend."
"Hey! It's not my fault!" Chuck protested.
In vain, of course - Casey was correct about this, Sarah knew.
There was no time to argue it, anyway. They had to start bugging the place. And hacking the system.
California, Burbank, Buy More, February 2nd, 2008
"Alright, everyone, good work - so far. Now check the power lines before you switch the screens and consoles on!"
Chuck suppressed a yawn as he watched the staff members finish the preparations in the food court. Or start to finish. After reading Jeff and Lester the riot act before, he couldn't afford to look as if he had spent the whole night playing video games himself. Not that he had, anyway - he had spent half the night placing bugs and hacking the security system of Gonzàlez. Which he hadn't managed - the drug lord practised excellent computer security. At least they had access to the buildings security system, but that had cost him a few hours of sleep which would really come in handy right now.
Shaking his head, he wandered over to the Wienerlicious food stand - which was quite a bit bigger than a normal food stand. "Hey!"
Sarah, of course, didn't look tired in the least. Well, not from the night spent crawling through air ducts and placing electronic surveillance devices. She looked a little stressed from setting up the stand. Annoyed as well; he could tell.
But she greeted him with a smile. "Hi, Chuck." And handed him a coke before he could ask.
"Thanks." He smiled, a little embarrassed. "I guess I look like I need some caffeine, huh?" he added in a low voice.
"A whole case!" Caridad, working five yards away to set up a condiment dispenser, called out. Slayer hearing.
"Thank you, Caridad." Chuck put as much sarcasm into his words as possible, but it didn't even faze the Slayer.
"No problem!"
"Speaking of problems…" Sarah spoke up. "Is that Vi with Morgan?"
"What?" Caridad growled. "He's my Watcher in training! She can get her own!"
Chuck checked. Indeed, there were Morgan and Vi, walking towards Big Mike. What was his friend doing? "I'll be right back," he muttered.
"...yes, Big Mike, she's a professional video player. Competed in Korea, and she's in Los Angeles to visit a few friends. If we hire her as a temp, she can compete and ensure our victory!"
Great. Morgan was trying to use Vi as a ringer in the tournament. Chuck pressed his lips together. What were they thinking? Wait, dumb question. Both wanted to win. Slayers were insanely competitive, and Morgan had been bragging to the other Buy More teams.
He shook his head. He had to stop it. Then he grinned. He knew just how to do that. "Hey, Big Mike! We're on schedule for the event - everything's going fine."
"Chuck! That's what I want to hear. This is our chance to shine, after all. Outdo the other stores!" Big Mike told him.
"Sure thing, boss, " Chuck said. "Oh, Vi, Caridad is still busy, so she has to delay her break for ten more minutes."
"What?" Big Mike snapped. Chuck saw the man's eyes narrow as he looked around, then even more when he spotted the Slayer at the food stand. "Caridad? What's she doing here? If she wrecks this event like she wrecked the store…"
"Oh, she works for Wienerlicious," Chuck said. "That's why Vi's here, too; she visiting her friend."
"Her friend?"
"Uh…" Vi started, followed by organs "Err…"
Chuck spoke over both of them. "Oh, yeah. Best friends. They met in Sunnydale."
Big Mike scowled. "Best friends?" He huffed and walked away.
"Chuck!" Morgan hissed. "What are you doing?"
"Why did you do this? I would have wrecked the others!" Vi complained.
Chuck rolled his eyes. "Think for a moment! Vi, showing off in front of a TV crew?"
"Oh." Morgan blinked, then winced. "She can sandbag! Play just good enough to win!"
"Yeah!"
Chuck glared at them. He wasn't a Scoobie, but he knew Slayers. Holding back? Yeah, right. "You want to explain this to Giles? And Phil?"
"Err… no need."
Both made themselves scarce with forced smiles.
Chuck sighed and headed back to Sarah. Sometimes…
Caridad was grinning broadly. "Well done!"
"Someone had to." Chuck didn't bother to explain that he hadn't done this to keep Vi from upstaging Caridad and grabbed his half-empty bottle. He needed more caffeine.
With another sigh, he leaned against the counter and looked around. The TV screens were up, but the consoles hadn't yet been brought online, so the big screen which would show the best fights later was still running Day TV. The news, at this moment. A reporter was standing in front of the harbour, talking about an unidentified body they had dragged out of the sea, talking about gang wars.
Then they showed a picture and Chuck gasped. He knew the man! That was the customer who had been so annoyingly insistent on getting his console back!