Chapter 38: The Traitor Part 1
California, Burbank, Buy More, March 5th, 2008
Shaw's recent friendliness must have been an act, Chuck realised. Sarah had killed his girlfriend so there was no way that the spy would be friendly towards her. Hell, if someone killed Sarah, Chuck would… He gasped. "Oh my God! I have to warn Sarah!" And without tipping off Shaw that Chuck knew that he knew. "I'll call you back, Dad!"
He hung up and hesitated. Use the radio? No. Shaw would overhear them; he was on the network himself. Call her? Not a good idea, either. If Shaw managed to overhear them… He could've bugged the decoy base so thoroughly, he might be able to pick up someone on the phone. Texting. He'd text her. That was safer. She wouldn't let Shaw see her screen.
F told S that you killed his gf. Cannot trust him.
That should do it. Chuck hit 'send' and took a deep breath. Everything would be alright. Sarah would claim he had sent her some flirty text. Or an invitation to dinner. And once she was back, they could plan how to deal with Shaw.
A minute passed, and no text from Sarah arrived.
Perhaps she was busy. Nothing critical, not like an attack, or she would've alerted them. And she might not expect an alert through a text message. Although Chuck would have expected her to expect any kind of alert.
They needed a priority alert on their phones. Something to signal a piece of urgent information. Damn. Hindsight was always 20/20.
Another minute passed. Still no message from Sarah. Chuck pressed his lips together and texted her again.
Chinese tonight?
If she had missed his earlier text, then this would make her check.
But another minute passed without an answer.
Damn it, he'd call her! He almost misdialed when his thumb slipped on the speed-dial but he managed to correct himself in time. Then he listened to the ringing tone… but he got the 'not connected' message instead.
Oh no!
He dialled Dad. "Dad! I can't reach Sarah! Her phone is not connected!"
"Checking," Dad replied. Chuck heard keys click. "Lost connection half an hour ago. Last cell was the one at the decoy base."
"We're too late," Chuck said. "Shaw's got her already. No! No!"
He got up, stumbling as he tried to walk on his cast, then grabbed the crutches. He had to check. She couldn't be…
"Chuck?"
Morgan! "Morgan! I can't reach Sarah - and Shaw's turned traitor!"
"What? The guy who hated Fulcrum so much, he wanted to sacrifice us to get them? That was an act?"
"Probably," Chuck said. "I need to check the decoy base. Her phone was last connected there."
"Chuck, you shouldn't…"
Chuck glared at him.
"... never mind!" Morgan pulled his phone out. "Caridad! We need you!"
Chuck, meanwhile, did his best to rush to the parking lot where his car was. It wasn't far, but with a broken leg, he'd be faster in a car.
"Chuck, wait!" Morgan easily caught up with him.
"I can't! Sarah needs me!" He was panting as he forced himself to hop towards his car.
"Yes, but you need us."
"Yeah, Chuck."
Caridad. Chuck hadn't even noticed her arriving. "Look, guys…"
The Slayer swept him off his feet and carried him off.
"Hey! My car's that way!" Chuck almost lost his crutches.
But Caridad wasn't listening. And Chuck had no chance to escape her grasp.
Then a dark SUV shot around the corner and came to a stop with screeching tyres next to them. "Get the nerd inside," Casey, the driver, growled. "We're wasting time."
Caridad all but threw Chuck on the backbench, then claimed shotgun. Morgan joined Chuck, and Casey drove away before they closed the door.
"Orion informed me," the NSA agent snapped. "Looks like Shaw couldn't handle that his squeeze turned traitor. Or he was a traitor all along."
"But wouldn't he have gone after me in that case? Fulcrum wants me," Chuck said as he shifted around so he could buckle in - Casey was driving like a maniac, and he didn't have Slayer reflexes.
"He might be doing that and using her as bait."
Oh. Oh no. "I don't want to get her ear in the mail." Or her fingers, Or any body part of her. Chuck clenched his teeth. If Shaw hurt her, then he'd…
Casey stopped at the next corner and cut the engine. Chuck gasped. He wouldn't... "Hey! No!"
The NSA agent turned and glowered at Chuck. And at Morgan. "Stay. In. The. Car."
Chuck swallowed and nodded.
Casey turned to Caridad. "Guard them. This might be a trap. I will check the base." He got out of the car without waiting for an answer.
For once, Caridad hadn't protested. She was probably still feeling guilty about Chuck being kidnapped 'on her watch', as Vi put it.
"Do you see anyone?" Morgan asked.
"No," Caridad replied.
Chuck didn't even bother looking. He was too worried about Sarah. She couldn't be dead. Shaw would want her as a hostage, wouldn't he? Or he would want to make her suffer before she died.
Hell, Chuck thought with a horrified chuckle, I'm hoping that the bad guy is a psycho.
Then Casey's voice came through the radio. "I've checked the base. Walker and Shaw are both gone. Her phone's destroyed."
Chuck gasped. No. Shaw had… Wait - if Shaw had wanted to kill Sarah, he could've done so. If he had destroyed her phone, then that meant that he had kidnapped her. She was still alive! They could still save her!
Chuck turned to Morgan. "We need a locator spell. Now." Shaw didn't know about magic. Neither did Fulcrum. They wouldn't expect this.
"Err… you want Phil for that. He's the expert."
Chuck shook his head. "We don't have time to wait for him. Morgan, you need to do it. Now!"
"Oh… OK. I'll do my best."
Chuck suppressed a 'you better'. Morgan would do his best - and adding more pressure wouldn't help.
"Should we go to The Castle?" his friend asked.
"Shaw might've trapped it," Chuck pointed out.
"Not on my watch," Casey grumbled - he had been listening in through the radio, Chuck realised. "I tracked him whenever he was there. Go back, I'll join you on foot."
For once, Chuck healthily approved of Casey's attitude. "To The Castle, then!"
This time, Caridad drove, and it still wasn't fast enough for Chuck.
A few minutes later, they were in the spy base, and Morgan went to get the emergency supply bag they had stashed there. With the ritual samples taken for just such a case.
"Vi wants to come," Caridad said as Morgan started setting up the spell.
"No! If Morris and Flores are in on this, that would leave Ellie and Devon unguarded," Chuck told her.
"I told her that already, but she didn't want to believe me," the Slayer complained. "Did you hear him, Vi? I know you did, or have you gone deaf from all the stupid pop music you listen to? Really? Just stay there. Someone has to do it, and you're the only one who can take out two spies easily."
She closed the call and shook her head. "I lied, of course, but we need her there."
"Yes," Morgan agreed without looking up from his work. "Did you call Phil?"
"I sent a text…"
"He never checks his texts often enough," Morgan told her. "Call him."
"Alright, alright." Chuck heard her grumble something he didn't catch. "Phil? Did you read the text? Yes. We're at the Castle, Morgan's doing a locator spell. Can't you make it sooner? Alright." She sighed. "He'll be here in an hour - I told him to buy a better car."
"He would have to be able to drive it, too." Casey had returned. With Bane.
"I closed the shop above. If Shaw turned traitor, then our cover's already blown."
Damn, Chuck hadn't even considered that. But there was nothing they could do about this. Saving Sarah took priority - they could sort out the rest afterwards.
"I'll check the weapons for tampering," Casey said, stepping into the armoury.
Chuck frowned - hadn't he said that he had kept Shaw under observation every time the agent had been in The Castle? But then Morgan started to cast the spell, and Chuck focused on the bowl of water in front of them - even though he wouldn't be able to see Sarah in it.
He bit his lower lip. He knew Morgan couldn't rush this - magic going wrong tended to have awful consequences. And Morgan wasn't the most accomplished mage.
But Chuck still wanted his friend to hurry up.
Finally, after what felt like hours, Morgan stopped chanting and took a deep breath. And blinked. And blinked again as he stared at the bowl. "It's… it's grey…"
"Did you mess up?" Caridad asked.
"No… I'm sure I did the spell correctly," Morgan protested. "Fairly sure. And nothing bad happened, anyway. And the water changed. But it's grey and doesn't show me anything. That shouldn't be happening, not even if she were, uh..." He gasped again, his eyes widening. "Something must be blocking the spell!"
"No! Cast it again!" Chuck protested. "You must have made a mistake!"
"There's no mistake," Phil said an hour later, shaking his head. "Something is blocking the spell."
"See? I didn't make a mistake!" Morgan sounded aggrieved.
"Sorry," Chuck mumbled.
"It's OK. With Sarah…" Morgan trailed off, shrugging.
"But that means…" Chuck swallowed. "If Fulcrum is blocking the spell, then they are working with a mage. Or a demon. They know about Slayers."
"They might not be aware of whoever - or whatever - is blocking the spell," Phil pointed out. "They did not block the spell we used to track you, after all. Alternatively, they either were aware before and sacrificed a base merely to spread disinformation, or they only recently became aware of the supernatural world."
"Or only a few of them are aware of magic," Bane added.
"Precisely," Phil agreed.
"And if they know about Slayers, they'd know about Willow. And I don't know of any mage willing to make her mad for a bunch of spies," Caridad said.
"Many practitioners are, shall we say, slightly bereft of common sense, vastly overestimate their prowess, or both," Phil retorted. "But as I said, we have to keep several possibilities in mind."
Chuck blinked. If Fulcrum wasn't aware of someone, or something, blocking locator spells…
"I need to do a search!" he exclaimed, pushing his chair towards the base's computer.
As soon as he had reached the keyboard - banging his leg against the desk in the process - he hurriedly switched the map of Los Angeles and the surrounding area on, then pulled out his phone and connected it to the main computer.
"What are you doing?" Bane asked.
"Shhh," Morgan whispered, "he's in the zone."
"Shaw couldn't have had much time to move Sarah. Even if he got her into a car without delay, the window between the phone getting destroyed and Morgan's spell is too short to get very far. Especially if he can't speed in order to avoid catching the attention of the cops. And there aren't too many warded places in the area that he could be using," Chuck explained as he ran the road planner.
"That's a lot of 'if's," Caridad commented.
Chuck ignored her. It was their best chance to find Sarah. And get Shaw.
"Do you assume that he's using a known 'warded location'?" Bane asked.
"I'm assuming that he lucked out and found a location that was already warded without knowing or realising it," Chuck replied as a red-highlighted area appeared on the map. "That's the furthest he could've reached if everything went perfectly. Now we overlay a map of the warded spots."
"What are those?" Bane sounded surprised at the number of locations that popped up.
"Some leftovers from Wolfram & Hart, a few demon lairs we cleared but didn't bother completely wrecking," Morgan explained, "and some buildings where witches live or do their business."
"Ah."
Six locations were in the highlighted area. Chuck tapped the screen and marked them, "Alright. These two are former Wolfram and Hart warehouses - actual warehouses, not monster lairs." The latter hadn't survived the clean-up after the battle in Los Angeles.
"If they are renting their space, then it wouldn't have been too hard to get a container and place it there," Bane said. "Plenty of space to keep a prisoner."
Was she speaking from experience? But they could check the warehouses' client list. Dad could - but Chuck would have to inform him without Bane catching on.
"That manor there?" Caridad tapped the screen. "That's a vampire lair. Stupid bloodsucker thought warding it would protect him - and then he doubled down on the idiocy by eating the witch who warded it for him, probably to skimp on paying her. Her elder sister told us the address when she didn't come home." She grinned. "Easy kill."
"And a possible location." Chuck added another address to the message he'd have to send to Dad to check for new tenants or clients.
"That bungalow here is the home of a reclusive witch," Phil said. "It's unlikely that she would let others on the premises if her reaction to my visit is any indication."
There was a story there, but they didn't have time to get distracted. "Unlikely then," Chuck stated.
"But not impossible," Morgan said.
"Oh, I remember that spot," Caridad announced, tapping on the screen again. For a moment, Chuck had a horrible vision of the Slayer accidentally breaking the screen by tapping too hard. "That was the lair of a hive of bug demons I cleaned out six months ago."
"Formicidae Demons", Phil corrected her. "Not 'bug demons', dear."
"Ants are bugs," Caridad replied, pouting. "Anyway, they had dug a maze of tunnels underground and lined it with some demony stuff that blocked spells."
"Their urine, actually," Phil said.
"Ew! I was stalking through tunnels soaked in demon piss?"
"Focus, guys." Chuck restrained from yelling. "Low probability of Shaw or Fulcrum using that spot."
"Yeah, just some rough, winding tunnels. Stinking like an anthill."
"This is the Coral Hotel," Chuck said, a little loudly, before Caridad could complain about the ants again. "They really value their guests' privacy and demand a premium for their discretion. One of the managers was the son of a practitioner and had it warded."
"And then he got eaten by a demon when Wolfram & Hart were hired to handle a hostile takeover of the hotel," Morgan said.
"They went all-out on the hostile part," Chuck said. "It's been repurchased since. But it would be hard to smuggle a kidnapping victim into a room."
"Not as hard as you think," Casey said. "They won't check luggage."
Oh. "So…" Chuck took a deep breath. "Let's split up. I'll check the warehouses; I can do that by hacking their client lists."
"That might not reveal Fulcrum," Bane said.
"But it's a start," Chuck retorted. "I'll do the manor as well. Meanwhile, you go and sniff around the hotel." He nodded at Caridad. Shaw wouldn't have known to mask Sarah's scent, and the Slayer could track her that way.
"She'll need backup. If this is a Fulcrum operation, Shaw won't be alone," Casey said.
"OK," Chuck said. "You, Caridad, Kirsten and Morgan go there." That team should be able to handle a Fulcrum base. And Chuck would be able to contact Dad without Bane noticing. "Phil and I do more research here." It was all he could do, with his broken leg, anyway. And Dad would do most of it.
But all that mattered was saving Sarah.
"Alright," Chuck said ten minutes later - mostly to himself; Phil was on the phone speaking to Vi, and Dad was busy hacking the hotel. "Let's see what kind of clients rented space in those warehouses."
About a dozen firms showed up, and any of them could be a front for Fulcrum. Even those Chuck recognised as real firms could've been fakes just using the names. But thanks to liability cases and insurance, the warehouse owners kept track of what was stored on their property. Detailed enough, at least, for Chuck to discard most clients as not suspicious. That still left two clients who had rented enough space to hide a kidnapping victim or three - and which were listed as import/export firms with entries and web pages so bland and bare, any cop would have grown suspicious.
Though that didn't mean they were Fulcrum fronts - they could be drug cartel fronts. Or fences. Or even demons trying to be clever. Chuck would have to hack the websites, see how old they were, and what kind of traffic and business they actually did. Of course, odds were that Caridad would be passing by the warehouses before he would make any headway. But he would be doing something instead of just waiting with a broken leg for the others to save Sarah.
But before he could even get started, an alert went off inside the base. "Perimeter alert?" He quickly switched the main screen to the security cameras covering the base's entrances. The main cameras didn't show anything off. But the backup ones showed a different picture: Half a dozen black-clad spies had broken into the Wienerlicious and were already at the concealed door to the base itself!
"It seems we're in a bit of pickle," Phil commented.
"Shaw must have told Fulcrum about the base," Chuck said, clenching his teeth. As they had feared. "At least he didn't know about the secondary defences, or they'd already broken in without us noticing anything." But he had likely compromised the radio network so they couldn't use their comms.
Chuck tapped out a text to the others - in case Casey hadn't been alerted already by the security system: Base under attack. 6 spies.
It was answered immediately: Hold out, OTW.
'Hold out'- that was easier said than done. Chuck pushed off the desk and rolled his chair into the armour. "We'll have to keep them off for ten minutes." Less if Casey let Caridad drive.
"Should I call Vi?" Phil asked, almost conversationally, as he grabbed a modern crossbow from the rack - CIA issue; apparently, even spies could use crossbows from time to time.
"No. This could be a distraction to get Ellie and Devon," Chuck replied. He grabbed an SMG and a pistol with a couple spare magazines. Then he eyed the flamethrower. Nothing said 'stay away' like a stream of fire coming at you.
He grabbed the flamethrower as well. At least he could use it easily while sitting on his chair. After taking a gas mask, too, and handing one to Phil, he wheeled himself over to the stairs, stopping at the table to pick up the remote for the claymores in the ceiling.
Phil didn't comment about Chuck's choice of weapons - but he had grabbed a shotgun as well as the crossbow. "I did some hunting in my youth."
Chuck nodded and checked the back entrance - which also served as an emergency exit - was still clear on both cameras. "I would have expected a pincer attack," he commented.
"Perhaps they lack the men for such a stratagem?"
"But they could force us to split up and would be able to use twice their numbers in chokepoints," Chuck pointed out. Shaw knew about the backdoor. So what was Fulcrum's angle? "Maybe they want to drive us out and are lying in ambush at the backdoor," he speculated.
"That seems plausible. They must be aware of the charges placed inside the base." Phil took cover behind a console and aimed his crossbow at the top of the stairs.
"That means they either hope to surprise us completely - or they don't plan to enter at all!" Chuck said. Talking like this was a good way to keep calm, he realised. Especially with Phil not even being ruffled by the imminent attack.
Phil nodded. "I concur. They will try to, as the saying goes, 'smoke us out'."
"Masks up, then." Chuck hastily donned his gas mask, then stared at the screen. The spies had finished picking the locks on the door now. He swallowed and flicked the cap off the triggers for the mine. Red was the one on the stairs to Wienerlicious. God, this would be messy!
The door was opened silently - Fulcrum was still trying to sneak inside, Chuck realised. Taking a deep breath, he put his thumb on the trigger. He had to wait until all of them were on the stairs.
But they didn't enter - they grabbed cylinders from their pockets. Gas grenades! Or worse!
He pushed the button.
Nothing happened.
He pushed it a second time. And a third. Still nothing. It must have been Shaw!
Several cylinders bounced down the staircase, already spewing smoke - tear gas, most likely.
Chuck dropped the remote and grabbed his flamethrower. Then he whirled, and kicked out against the wall, sending him rolling backwards, towards the stairs, on his chair.
And as soon as he had his flamethrower pointed up the stairs, he pulled the trigger.
The flames cut through the growing cloud of tear gas and reached the door above - and the gap there. Due to the cloud of tear gas, Chuck couldn't see if he had hit anyone - but he heard screaming.
He glanced at the big screen behind him - the gas hadn't spread so far - and winced. Two spies were on the ground, burning and thrashing. Vampires would have been dusted already, but humans… He shook his head. They wanted to kill him and his friends. And Sarah.
He still felt sick.
And the tear gas was still spreading.
"They've closed the door," Phil told him, and Chuck pushed off and rolled over to the main console before he got lost in the expanding cloud. If he turned the ventilation up a notch, the tear gas should be dealt with… eventually.
"What about the backdoor?" he asked as he fiddled with the controls.
"I don't see any change there," the Watcher replied.
Did that mean that Fulcrum's spies were sticking to their plan? Chuck grabbed his smartphone and called Morgan.
"Yes? We're almost… Watch out for the truck! … we're almost there."
"We repelled one attack, but they should have an ambush force ready at the backdoor. Two enemies down, four left inside Wienerlicious," Chuck told him - and, so he hoped, the others. Morgan should have his phone on speakers. "How long until you're here?"
"Five more minutes. Hold… Watch the lane, Caridad!"
Probably one more attack, at least, Chuck thought.
"They're moving," Phil said. "And there is the second group."
Chuck checked the screen. The four surviving spies were approaching the door again. And half a dozen more were already at the backdoor, working on the locks… no, placing charges!
"We need to take cover!" he yelled, looking around. "The armoury!"
Before Chuck could wheel himself over, Phil grabbed the backrest of his chair and pushed him.
A moment later, the charges on the backdoor went off, blowing a cloud of dust into the base. Shots rang out - automatic fire, long bursts - and Chuck saw bullets hit the wall opposite the exit. More shots from above followed - they seemed to be firing blindly. Suppressive fire - or something.
"We should've trapped the room," he muttered as he slid off the chair and took up a position at the armoury door. He glanced at his smartphone, which showed the feeds from the interior cameras. Even with the smoke and dust, he could make out movement.
"I'll take a note for the next time we're under siege," Phil said, pressing himself against the wall on the other side of the doorframe, across from Chuck.
Chuck had time to snort. Then the enemy spies entered the base proper, and he leaned around the corner and fired the flamethrower again.
More screams. He ducked around the corner again. Phil fired his shotgun once, twice, then took cover as well as Fulcrum returned fire.
A few more minutes, Chuck told himself. Help was on the way. They only had to hold out a little longer. But they were trapped - there was no way out. And the enemies would be moving closer while they kept shooting. Close enough to aim a grenade, probably. Flashbang if they wanted them alive, frag if they wanted them dead.
Damn. Chuck could even see them moving out of the thinning cloud of smoke and dust, now. Time to close the door and hope the others arrived before they cracked the door - or blew it up. Or… Yes.
He clenched his teeth and reached out for the door controls with his free hand, the other holding his smartphone. There was a spy approaching, grenade already in hand. He was almost there. Almost at the door… his arm cocked back…
Chuck hit the 'close' button, his fingerprint releasing the door, and it started to close just when the spy let the grenade fly.
He held his breath, but the door closed in time to stop the grenade - it bounced off it, as Chuck saw on the phone.
And exploded in the middle of the main room.
More screams followed.
Chuck hit the door controls a second time, then grabbed his flame thrower and stuck it around the corner once more, blindly shooting fire at the enemy. Phil did the same with his shotgun before Chuck closed the door again.
They hadn't hit many, as far as Chuck could see - it was hard, with more smoke filling the room - the furniture was supposed to be fireproof, but with the flamethrower fuel sticking to it...
The others better hurry, Chuck thought, or we'll end up burning to death here.
At least they wouldn't suffocate - the ventilation system was working fine and designed to handle gases. It was a mixed blessing, however - it would also fuel any fire with more oxygen. And there were quite a few fires burning already. "I guess the CIA doesn't quite follow building codes," Chuck muttered.
"I doubt that any building code is rated against flamethrowers," Phil replied. "I gather, though, that this chamber is quite fireproof?"
"Yes. It should be, at least," Chuck said. Well, if the room wasn't fireproof, it would be over quickly. Even if the explosives didn't go off from the heat, the ammunition would. And there was a lot of ammunition in the armoury.
Phil nodded. "Then let us hope the building doesn't collapse onto us."
Chuck froze. He hadn't considered that. If the whole building came down… that would kill the ventilation system. They would be buried alive. And suffocate. Damn. He grabbed his phone again. "Morgan? We're holed up in the armoury. The base is starting to burn."
"We're here. Engaging the enemy," his friend replied.
It would have sounded professional and reassuring - if Chuck hadn't heard the same sentence so often during Call of Duty matches. And those could fail quite spectacularly.
"They're here," he told Phil.
"Good. What's the situation in the base?"
Chuck switched apps. "Uh… smoky."
"Ah." Chuck could almost see the older man's eyebrows rise despite the gas mask.
"I can't see anything any more," he defended himself.
"The enemy will be similarly hampered, then. As will our relief forces."
"Yes." Chuck could only hope that his friends would be able to deal with the situation. He focused on the smartphone's screen again. The room was full of smoke, but with a little luck, he might catch a glimpse of Fulcrum's agents anyway. Of course, the same trick wouldn't work twice on them, but… it was all he had left. That and waiting. While Sarah was in danger.
Suddenly, there was movement on the screen - something cut through the smoke, sending bodies flying. A tentacle? No! It was water, Chuck realised with relief. A stream of water powerful enough to bowl over trained agents.
"Our friends brought fire hoses," he said, blinking.
"An obvious tactic in hindsight," Phil commented.
"Quite," Chuck said, as dryly as he could.
Less than a minute later, the enemy spies had been taken down - or out, Chuck couldn't tell from his phone - and the hoses were turned on the remaining fires.
"It's safe to come out now," Morgan told him over the phone.
After a last check - it did look safe - Chuck hit the door controls again, relieved to see it working, and pushed himself to his feet. Or foot, singular.
"Chuck! Phil!" Caridad rushed over. "Are you alright?"
"We're not any worse than we were before, my dear," Phil replied. "Thank you for the timely rescue."
Chuck nodded in agreement. "Yes, thank you."
Casey appeared, wielding a hose. "Get a move on and leave through the backdoor - we're setting the kitchen on fire upstairs; someone is bound to have called 911."
That would keep the base from getting discovered - Fulcrum hadn't blown up the door above, after all.
Morgan handed him his crutches - they had survived with a few scratches - and Chuck limped out of the armoury. The sight of burned bodies made him wince. He had burned them. He had killed three or four people with his flamethrower. If he closed his eyes, he could still hear their screams. And if he removed his gas mask, he'd smell the stench. Such a… he blinked.
"Shaw didn't tell them about the flamethrowers," he blurted out. "They hadn't been prepared for the flamethrowers - they had worn body armour, and that was useless against it."
"Bastard might be playing games, Casey growled.
"It's also possible that our assailants dismissed the claim - or decided to risk it," Phil replied.
"They could've come wearing flameproof suits," Chuck retorted. "Pretend to be the fire brigade."
"That would have been a good cover," Bane added - she was changing into her Wienerlicious uniform, Chuck noted. Probably going to handle the emergency services which would be arriving any minute.
"Let's get a move on," Casey repeated himself. "We need to go."
"What about the prisoners?" Chuck asked while he started to move towards the exit.
"We'll take them with us," Casey said.
"All of them?" Chuck had killed three or four, so that would leave… He took another look at the room. Oh. There were four spies on the ground with their limbs bound. The others… Chuck's friends hadn't stuck to using hoses in the fighting.
At least, he thought, snorting against his will, with Caridad busy carrying the prisoners, I won't be carried outside again.
Then his phone vibrated. But who would call him… He balanced on one leg and one crutch and pulled it out of his pocket.
It was Shaw.
"Shaw," Chuck said through clenched teeth after accepting the call and putting it on speaker. He glanced at Morgan, pointing at his friend's phone and mouthing 'call Dad'. Bane was upstairs, so this should be safe enough.
"Hi, Chuck. Had some excitement in The Castle?"
Was the agent watching? Chuck looked around. If Shaw was tapped into the main surveillance system… but then, Fulcrum would have known what they had been planning. "You could say that," he replied.
"Could be watching from afar," Casey mumbled.
"Or just keeping track of the police and fire brigade calls," Morgan added, holding up his phone. Dad was listening, then. Good.
"Heh, using British understatement, are you? Taking out a dozen trained spies is no small feat. Especially for a new spy. Though you aren't so new any more, are you?"
Chuck gritted his teeth at Shaw's tone. "Oh, you know - I'm a proponent of the castle doctrine."
Shaw actually laughed. Well, Casey snorted. Once. "You're definitely not a rookie - joking after such a fight?"
The alternative would be worse. "You didn't warn your new friends. They walked straight into our trap."
Caridad returned. "Hurry up," she said - and picked up Chuck.
He barely managed to avoid gasping when he was, once more, carried around in a rather undignified manner. But if Shaw commented on that, they'd know he was watching…
He didn't, though. "I did warn them, but they decided to dismiss my warnings - although I might not have been sufficiently detailed. You used the flamethrowers, didn't you?"
Was he fishing for information? Or trying to make them think he didn't know? "We used a lot, but mainly we used Fulcrum's own stupidity against them. They're not exactly the best kind of employer, you know," he said as Caridad put him down in a van. Next to the prisoners.
"Oh, I'm not working for them. Our goals merely align. Temporarily." Shaw sounded smug.
"And what do you want?" Chuck asked as the others got into the van, Casey taking the wheel.
"Many things. But I'll settle for you."
"Me?" Chuck's eyebrows rose. Why him? Dumb question, he realised a moment later. Sarah had killed the man's girlfriend. And Chuck was Sarah' boyfriend.
"Yes. We'll meet. Just you and me. If anyone else shows up, Walker dies." Shaw's tone had lost all fake levity.
Chuck's stomach dropped. There was the threat he had been dreading. At least that meant that Sarah was still alive. Probably. It was a trap, of course. Shaw wanted his revenge. On Sarah. Chuck would only be a means to an end. A bloody end. There was only one answer to that.
"Alright. Where?"
"Watch this channel. See you soon." And the fake levity was back.
The call ended. Chuck turned to Morgan. Or rather, to his friend's phone. "Where is he?"
"Here." A message with coordinates appeared on Chuck's phone a moment later. Dad had come through.
"He won't be there any more," Casey growled. "Burner phone, dropped as soon as the call ended. Might have even used a relay to make the call."
"Yes," Dad's voice sounded from the phone. "But I'm refining my search parameters. If he's using standard CIA procedures, I'll have him soon."
"So, you'll need to stall him," Caridad told Chuck, "until we have Sarah back."
"He won't take her with him to the meeting," Casey said. "He'll stash her somewhere. Dead or alive. Dead, probably - no chance of escape."
Chuck pressed his lips together. "No. This is about her. He wants me to hurt her. She killed his girlfriend, he wants to kill me. While she lives. Killing her first would ruin his vengeance. Or something."
"He sounded like a psycho," Caridad commented.
"Yes," Morgan agreed. "Lacking the cackling and the death threats, but otherwise... psycho villain 101."
"Which means," Phil chimed in, "that he isn't acting rationally."
"But still predictably," Chuck insisted. "He wants to avenge his girlfriend. And for that, he needs Sarah and me. Alive."
"He could kill you and show her your corpse, then kill her," Casey said.
That was possible, but… "No," Chuck said. "That would be too simple. He wants to kill me in front of her."
"Are you willing to bet your life on it?" the agent asked.
"Yes."
Los Angeles, March 5th, 2008
The light hurt as soon as Sarah opened her eyes. She felt nauseous as well. Drugged, she realised. She had been drugged. And the last thing she remembered…
"Finally awake again, Agent Walker?"
She knew that smug voice. "Shaw. So Fulcrum turned you." She took in her surroundings. Hotel room. Luxury hotel. Curtains were drawn so she could see out the windows to find out where they were. She was on a queen-sized bed. Her wrists and ankles were tied. And the traitor was sitting on the armchair in the corner. And smiling at her.
He inclined his head, tilted to the side. "Not really. I didn't join them - but my and their goals align, as far as you and your team are concerned. Mostly, at least."
What? She frowned. That didn't make any sense. Unless… "So you sold your soul?" If he wasn't working for Fulcrum, then he probably was working for a demon or another supernatural threat.
He chuckled. "How poetic. I wouldn't have you taken for such a patriot."
What?
"You think I was suborned by a foreign power?" He laughed, shaking his head.
That was the third possibility. She didn't answer him, though. It was obvious that he wanted to talk. To gloat. And a good spy let his enemy talk. Even disinformation was intel.
"No, this is personal." His smile vanished, replaced by a glare as he bared his teeth at her. "You don't even know, do you? You killed her, and you don't even know what you did."
Oh. That kind of personal. Sarah understood. "Who was she?"
"Evelyn. Evelyn Miller. The woman I wanted to marry."
Sarah knew that name. Miller had been a traitor Sarah had killed for her red test.
"Ah, you remember." Shaw was smiling again. Unless he was a superb actor, he had gone mad.
Sarah suppressed a shiver. This was worse than she had thought. The odds of her surviving this were low. "So, you want to avenge a traitor."
He struck her, his palm hitting her cheek, hard.
"I will avenge the love of my life, Agent Walker." He leaned forward, sneering at her. "And you will get to watch."
Sarah felt her heart skip a beat. No! Not Chuck!
"Oh, yes. I'll kill your love. An eye for an eye."
"You won't get to him," she spat. Chuck was with the others. And Shaw didn't know about the Slayers.
"I won't have to. He'll come to me. Of course, he'll try to trick me. Ambush me. But thanks to Fulcrum's local team, I've got his number."