Chapter 39: The Traitor Part 2
California, Los Angeles, March 5th, 2008
"You think you know him?" Sarah asked, putting a little scorn into her question. Shaw wouldn't know about magic, and about Chuck's real history - Fulcrum thought he was a cyborg.
"I don't think - I do." Shaw grinned. "Fulcrum sent me their data on him and his friends. And I have been studying him, of course."
"You think you 'got Chuck's number' in a few days?" She scoffed. The longer she kept the spy talking, the better. The others would be tracking her - with a spell.
"Of course I did. Did he fool you?" Shaw chuckled. "He almost fooled me. But I'm not in love with him."
"What?"
"Oh, please - it's obvious that you've fallen for him. Fallen for his act." Shaw shook his head with a pitying expression. "With your experience, you should've known better. He's good, but not that good. But I guess emotions screw up everyone - I certainly didn't even suspect Evelyn had been a member of Fulcrum until I read her real files."
She didn't need the madman's pity or fake sympathy. He was wrong, anyway. "You think he manipulated me?" She didn't have to fake her scorn.
"You still deny it? Do you really think that he's just a civilian who got caught up in a CIA affair? Accidentally got the Intersect in his head?" He snorted. "The CIA tried to implant the Intersect into several spies - none of them survived."
She hadn't known that.
He noticed her reaction - his grin widened. "Indeed. Data being encrypted in a series of images, delivered through a neural-optical interface - and that happening accidentally? It never worked deliberately so far. Chuck was the only one to survive the experiment because he's got an actual computer in his head already."
Oh. "The Initiative," she said.
"Exactly! The project focused on cybernetic augmentation. 'Better. Stronger. Faster.' And so on. That's what you get when the army gets to direct the research. But we're spies - we know that information and analysis are the key to victory. That's what the Intersect is all about, after all. And the Initiative managed to put computer chips into brains - exactly what the Intersect needed to be used in the field."
That was an impressive deduction. Completely wrong, of course - she had to keep him on that path. "And you think having a computer chip in his brain turned Chuck into a superspy who seduced me?"
"Oh, no - the Initiative did that. Chuck's been working for them for years - after the project had supposedly been shut down." Shaw shook his head once more. "And with such a flimsy cover story - as if anyone would believe that the Agency would allow the Limeys to run an operation on our soil!"
"London would be amused that you think so," she retorted.
"London does nothing that's not cleared by Washington," he said, sneering at her. "The old man's not even British but a retired spy who must have lived in England for a few years. Almost gone native, probably."
"So you think that Chuck's a cybernetic superspy working for a rogue CIA operation."
"It fits the data. The way he killed Fulcrum's teams - burned the lot of them alive - confirms it. No civilian would use a flamethrower. Hell, no spy would. But someone trained by a secret, originally army, research project? A project where you might have to dispose of a cyborg?" He grinned again. "He's been trained as a handler for the other augmented operatives - all girls. And that's how he learned to handle you." He laughed.
The man was delusional. But that would work to her advantage. Chuck wasn't like that at all. Sarah knew that better than anyone else. "And how will that allow you to kill him? If he's been manipulating me all this time, he won't risk himself for me." But the fool would. Even with a broken leg.
"Oh, but he doesn't know that I know, so he'll be planning to exploit my supposed ignorance to kill me. But since I know that, I'll use his own trap against him."
"You're wrong."
"Am I? Or are you just unwilling to admit that you've been thoroughly played? That you're not a spy, but a mark?" He stood. "Don't worry. You'll get to see the proof that I'm right. Before you die."
She clenched her teeth and glared at him as he approached her. If he moved a little closer, she could kick him, even with her hands and feet bound like this.
But the man was ready for her move and blocked her kick, then hit her in the stomach.
"Predictable." He scoffed again as he picked up his phone. "Like Chuck."
California, Los Angeles, East Side, March 5th, 2008
"It's a trap," Casey said as he drove through traffic with an almost Slayer-like attitude.
"Of course it's a trap," Chuck told him, resisting to imitate Admiral Ackbar. "But by playing along, we'll have the best chance to save Sarah."
"We'll be playing into Shaw's hands," the NSA agent retorted. "He wants to kill you."
"But he wants to kill me to hurt Sarah," Chuck pointed out. "And knowing that, we can turn the tables on him."
"He ordered you to an abandoned construction site - with wide-open spaces so we can't sneak up on him," Morgan said.
"Or so he can snipe him from afar," Casey grunted.
That was a possibility as well, of course. Chuck tried not to wince. If all Shaw wanted was to kill him, then that would be one of the easiest ways to achieve that. But there were even easier ones. Like bombs. No, this was personal for Shaw. That meant he would want to show off. "That's why I'm wearing a vest," he said.
"That's why he'll aim for your head," Casey retorted. "He's a traitor, but a top spy. And on crutches, you'll be an easy target."
"We're not going to underestimate him," Chuck said. "But the priority is saving Sarah. And we've got an ace in the hole - magic."
Casey scoffed. "The locator spell is still being blocked."
"Well, yes," Chuck admitted. Phil had informed them a few minutes ago. "But that means Sarah isn't moving."
"And Caridad should have arrived at the hotel by now," Morgan said, fiddling with his phone. "I'll call her. Caridad?"
They heard her through the speakers. "I've picked up her scent here, but it's faint."
So she was in the hotel. Just as they had assumed. Now all they had to do was to stall Shaw until Caridad had saved Sarah. Chuck smiled, relieved.
Until his phone vibrated. It was Phil.
"Sarah's in a car, moving," the Watcher told him.
No. Chuck hissed. So close…
"He's coming here," Casey said.
"I can intercept him!" Caridad all but yelled - of course she would have heard Phil's voice through two phones.
"No. He'll spot you and shoot Walker," Casey grunted.
"Head towards us," Chuck told her. "We'll need you here."
"On my way!" Caridad yelled, followed by: "Outta my way!"
Morgan winced at something only he could hear. Probably the sound of stumbling or bowled-over pedestrians.
Well, she was prioritising saving Sarah. Chuck couldn't fault her for that. "We'll continue with the plan," he told Casey. "Drop me off at the entrance to the area and be ready to intervene as soon as you get an opportunity."
"That's suicide."
They had gone over this before. "Someone has to play bait, and I'm good at it. And I've got the Intersect."
"Walker wouldn't want you to sacrifice yourself for her."
"And I don't want to sacrifice her."
Casey grunted but kept driving towards the construction area. A few more minutes, Chuck estimated.
"Uh." Morgan suddenly spoke up.
Chuck knew that tone. Something had gone wrong. "Morgan?"
"Kirsten sent me a text. 'Trouble. Police.'" He looked up. "I can't reach her."
"Police?" Had something gone wrong at the Wienerlicious? Last Chuck had heard, Bane had been handling the police and the fire brigade.
"Trouble," Casey spat. "We're being tailed by a chopper."
Chuck leaned out of the window and looked up. "It's the police." Police trouble. Trouble with the police. "Shaw must have framed us. This is the trap!"
Then he heard the sirens behind them.
California, Los Angeles, March 5th, 2008
Sarah wriggled and struggled, but Shaw was a pro - she couldn't get loose. She was stuck in the back of his SUV as they drove through Los Angeles.
"Oh, look - the LAPD is closing in on your friends." Shaw sounded amused. "I think I saw Chuck's head for a moment. The quality of the cameras onboard the chopper are, unfortunately, not up to CIA standard."
She wanted to bash his head in. Wipe that smug grin from his face and kill him with her bare hands. "It could be anyone," she retorted. She knew better, of course - this was Casey's SUV.
He laughed. "You don't believe that."
She didn't deign to answer that. "Do you really think the LAPD will kill Chuck for you?"
"What? Oh, you don't understand." He chuckled again. "A few cops against your friends? The LAPD won't stand a chance."
So they would be a distraction. Keep the group busy while Shaw made his move.
"But they'll be enough of a nuisance so Chuck will have to show his true colours. I'm looking forward to seeing how he'll get rid of them. They won't give up otherwise - can't let dangerous terrorists escape, can we?" The traitor chuckled once more.
California, Los Angeles, East Side, March 5th, 2008
"Alright. Don't panic. This isn't a catastrophe. We're just being hunted by the LAPD. And they have a helicopter. And that sounds like half a dozen patrol cars," Chuck mumbled. "Oh my gosh! They'll send the SWAT as well!" Perhaps panicking was the logical response?
"We're in Counterstrike, and they see us as the terrorists!" Morgan at least sounded as if he were panicking.
"We'll have to get rid of the chopper," Casey said. "Grab the machine gun and shoot it down."
"What? No!" Chuck blurted out. "We can't kill cops! Shouldn't kill cops, I mean!"
"They will be trying to kill us, Bartowski," Casey snapped as he took a sharp turn. "And we can't get away while the chopper is tracking us. They'll herd us into an ambush."
"Uh…" That was correct. Probably. The LAPD was useless when it came to dealing with demons - in the 'behead and burn them' way, not the other kind of dealing - but they weren't quite as useless when dealing with criminals. Not the best there, either, though, but… "Casey!" Chuck yelled. "Stick to the smaller roads! Avoid the highways! And make your way to the Badlands!"
"What are you planning?"
"We have to lose the cops, and I know where!" Chuck yelled. The cops didn't go to the Badlands. Gunn had said so often enough during the Wolfram & Hart crisis.
"You better know what you're doing," Casey grunted as he took another tight turn and accelerated.
"Of course I do," Chuck retorted. "I think."
Casey gave him a side-glance, but the man had to keep his attention on the road.
"Caridad says she's coming as well!" Morgan told them.
"Uh… no, no! You have to get Sarah," Chuck said.
"I don't know where she is!" he heard Caridad yell through Morgan's speakerphone.
"You will soon!" Chuck replied - and dialled Dad. "Dad?"
"Chuck, this is a mess. Shaw framed you and your friends for terrorism. They sent the whole SWAT after you."
"I know." Well, he had deduced that. "But you need to frame him for kidnapping. Set the LAPD on him - Phil can give you the car's description. If you hack the LAPD, you can send cops after him!"
"I can do that. Divert some of them from hunting you."
"Yes!" That was even better. Chuck nodded, though Dad couldn't see him.
"Shaw will massacre the cops," Casey said through clenched teeth.
"They just have to find him - Caridad can deal with him," Chuck replied. Although… this was the LAPD they were dealing with. "Tell them to stay back and wait for SWAT once they found him, Dad!"
"Got it, son."
Good. Now they just had to…
Casey cursed and drove the SUV on the sidewalk, sending a dumpster flying as the car left the road. Another bump and a crash followed. Chuck felt his heart miss a beat, but it was just a fire hydrant sharing the dumpster's fate. And then they were past the two patrol cars.
"Oh crap oh crap oh crap!" Morgan muttered behind them.
"The chopper's still tracking us," Casey snarled. "They won't make the same mistake again."
"I'm working on that," Chuck said. If only he knew how!
"Work faster!"
Wait! They could switch cars in a parking garage! No - not while being chased. The cops would surround the garage and stop every car. Damn. And they were still sticking out like a sore thumb… Oh! "I'll call you back, Dad!" he ended the call and hit a quick search on his laptop - he needed every damn limousine service in the city!
He was just starting to order a dozen black SUVs to come fetch a 'wedding party' right now when Casey interrupted him.
"Time's running out, Bartowski!"
Chuck looked up, and his eyes widened. There was another roadblock - and this time, they had blocked the sidewalks, too!
"Hold on tight!" Casey yelled - the man sounded almost joyful, Chuck realised as he grabbed for the handholds.
Then they crashed into the cop cars - and broke through. Both cars in the centre spun around and crashed into other cars as they passed. But they were through!
Though the helicopter was still tracking them!
Chuck ended the order and called Dad again. "Dad! Did you get Shaw framed?"
"They're hunting his car now. As soon as they find him, I'll inform you."
"Inform Caridad. We're a little busy here. You wouldn't be able to hack a helicopter in flight, would you?"
"Sorry, son, you're on your own there. I tried to have it diverted, but the pilot checked with the chief, and the order was countermanded."
Damn. And his plan of ordering decoy SUVs would take too long And, he, belatedly, realised, would endanger civilians - the LAPD wasn't exactly shy about shooting first.
Damn and damn again.
Then his phone rang once more. Shaw again. Chuck took the call. "Shaw? We're going to be delayed a little bit. Traffic is murder."
He heard the spy snort. "You can deal with murder, can you?"
Chuck frowned but forced himself to keep the levity. "Physics is a bitch, and I'm currently slightly handicapped, as you know, so I can't just walk."
"'Physics is a bitch'?" Shaw sounded confused.
The longer he kept the man talking, the better. Dad would be tracking Shaw already - and even daisy chain setups could be traced if you could sort out the calls. "You know, the thing about mass and Newton - I can't exactly drive through walls or cars, and pushing them to the side doesn't always work. Physics."
He had to clench his teeth as Casey demonstrated the truth of what Chuck had just said by playing bumper car with a patrol car that had managed to catch up to them - must have cut them off somehow. Chuck really hoped that the cops had used seat belts - the way that parked van had stopped them...
"Funny," Shaw replied in a tone that clearly showed he didn't think it actually was. "We both know you can go through these obstacles."
What? What did Shaw mean? He couldn't… Chuck swallowed. "On crutches?"
The other spy snorted. "Don't try to play games, Chuck. Kill the cops and come to the meeting spot, or Walker dies."
"Don't, Chuck!"
That was Sarah! She was still alive! Chuck smiled despite the situation.
"Shut up, Walker."
"Don't do it, ChuckAHHH!"
"Shaw!" Chuck snarled.
"Sounded like a taser," Casey snapped.
A taser. That wasn't too bad. Chuck was about to comment, but then gasped - there was a police van blocking the street in front of them! An armoured one! Casey cursed and pulled a u-turn, but now they were driving towards the pursuing patrol cars. And Casey wasn't slowing down - he was speeding up. As if he were playing chicken! Chuck's eyes widened. Casey was playing chicken!
And the cops veered away in the last second.
"Here's the deal, Chuck;" Shaw said as Casey turned into a side alley - had the spy waited until they were clear? He was watching through the cop cameras, wasn't he? "You kill those cops after you, and anyone between you and the meeting spot, or I'll kill Walker. Show me what you can do. What you will do for her."
Chuck drew a hissing breath - not quite a gasp. Shaw wanted him to kill cops? Civilians? He could do it. And he wouldn't have to kill many cops. Just downing the helicopter would allow them to lose the rest of the cops. And the helicopter wasn't a military model - they could shoot it down. Especially with the Intersect. How many cops were in the chopper, anyway? Two? Three? For Sarah? He could do it.
He shook his head, clenching his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut. No. He couldn't. "No."
"No?" Shaw snarled. "You'd let Walker die? Sarah?"
"I'm… I'm not going to murder people for you," Chuck retorted, blinking to clear his eyes.
"You're a spy, Chuck. Killing people is what we do."
"Killing enemy spies. Not murdering innocents," Chuck corrected him.
"Hah! You know better than that. All of us have killed innocents for a mission. Sarah murdered Evelyn!"
"She was working for Fulcrum," Chuck snapped back.
"You know how it works - you're never certain. Someone makes a call, and people die. Some of them are innocent. You know that."
"I'm not going to murder innocents." Chuck shook his head. This was going badly, but he couldn't give in. He gasped. He could fool Shaw. Make it appear as if he killed cops… No. They had no time to set up something, and Shaw was watching. If they hacked the cops' cameras, he'd know...
"So all your claims that you'd choose your friends over the mission was a lie?" Shaw spat.
What? "That was about not sacrificing your friends," Chuck told him. "You know, the opposite of killing."
"Really? What about the needs of the many outweighing the needs of the few?"
Chuck blinked. Shaw was a Trekkie? "That was about sacrificing yourself, not others."
"What?"
What? Oh. "Wrath of Khan, the movie," Chuck explained.
"We're not talking about fucking movies here! You go and kill those damned cops, or I will fucking cut Walker into pieces and mail you the recording!" Shaw snapped in a staccato. "Do you understand, Chuck?"
Chuck froze. Yes, he did. His lips trembled. Sarah… Damn it. He had to… he couldn't. He drew a short, gasping breath. Not a sob. He blinked, then wiped his eyes. No. No. No.
"No, I won't."
Sarah hurt - Shaw had tased her to shut her up. Her whole body hurt. But she could deal with pain. Had dealt with worse. But she didn't want to die. Not now. Not by getting tortured to death while she was helplessly bound in the back of an SUV. At least Chuck would be safe. She could only hear one half of the conversation, but Shaw's increasingly angry words were enough to know that Chuck wasn't giving in to the traitor. That meant Chuck wouldn't get killed, either.
She tried to focus on that. She might die, but Chuck would live. Wouldn't be broken by a madman, That would have to be enough. It wasn't, though - she didn't want to die. If Chuck played along…. No. That was what Shaw wanted. And he'd kill them both anyway.
Turning her head, she could see Shaw's expression twist into a sneer. "You will murder me? Hah!"
Of course, Chuck would murder Shaw, she realised. Her death would push Chuck over the line. Shaw would deeply but briefly regret what he was doing. But so would Chuck - and probably for a much longer time.
Once more, she tried to get out of her bounds, even though she knew it wouldn't work.
"Really? I'll show you. You can watch! Right now!"
No. She struggled harder, the plastic bands cutting into her skin. Shaw was climbing over the seats now - they had stopped for his call some time ago. If only she were able to move; unbalanced as he was, there was an opening…
She faintly heard Chuck yelling at Shaw through the phone. Threatening him some more. But the man wasn't listening any more. He was glaring at her, his teeth bared. "You'll hear her scream, Chuck!"
Then something crashed into the car and sent it spinning. Sarah felt the zip ties cut into her wrists and ankles even more as they stopped her from being thrown across the vehicle.
Shaw had nothing to stop him. She saw how he hit the side of the car, his phone flying out of his hand, before he fell down next to her, his flailing leg hitting her head with a glancing blow.
She bit him.
A screech of metal drowned out his scream - the backdoor had been ripped open. Shaw was still moving, cursing. Probably going for a weapon, she realised.
Then he wasn't moving any more. And she heard Caridad. "Stay down, fucker!" A moment later, she felt the ties that held her in place snap. "Are you OK, Sarah? Sarah?"
Sarah almost cried with relief. "I'm OK," she replied. "Just hurting."
"Alright." The Slayer quickly ripped the remaining zip ties away. "Ugh. Those cuts need to be treated, or they'll scar."
That was the least of Sarah's worries right now. "Secure Shaw!" The traitor couldn't be allowed to escape.
"Right."
As Sarah slowly sat up, hissing at the pain in her hands and feet, both from the cuts and the restored blood circulation, she watched the Slayer frisk Shaw, then tie him up.
Sarah was safe. Saved in the last second.
"I've got her, Chuck. Shaw's down."
She gasped. The phone - Chuck was still listening. "Chuck!" Where was the damn phone?
"Under the front seat," Caridad said, "I can hear Chuck yell."
Oh. Sarah got down on the floor. Yes, there it was. She reached under the seat and grabbed it. "Chuck?"
"Sarah? Sarah? Are you alright?"
"Yes." She was. Hurt, but alive.
"Thank God!" He was sobbing, she realised. "He threatened to… to..."
"I heard," she told him. "Caridad got him. Captured," she clarified.
"Oh." She heard him breathe deeply. "I'm sorry. He wanted me to kill cops, and if he didn't, he would… I'm sorry…"
"It was the right thing," she told him.
"Come on, Sarah, we need to scram before the cops arrive," Caridad yelled. "Chuck's Dad's diverting them, but that won't work forever!"
Sarah climbed out of the SUV. It had been smashed into the side of another car, she noticed. And while they weren't in the middle of Hollywood, they weren't in a particularly desert alley, either. If she had screamed, someone might have heard her.
But, she thought as she stumbled towards Caridad's banged-up car, in this area, the odds that anyone would have cared to help would have been low.
Caridad helped her into the car. "I stashed Shaw in the trunk. Serves him right." She pointed at the backseat. "His stuff is there."
Sarah glanced at it. Two pistols, two knives, two phones. Wallet. Keys. A radio and assorted other gadgets. And his ripped clothes.
"He might have hidden something in the fabric," Caridad explained.
"Ah." Sarah glanced at the SUV. Her blood would be on the floor. "We need to torch it."
"Alright."
And then they'd have to save Chuck from being killed by the LAPD. Without killing the LAPD.
She was alive! Sarah was alive! Alive! And they caught Shaw! Chuck blinked, trying to clear his eyes from the sudden tears. Sarah was alive! Everything was fine! They could…
He was thrown to the side, the seat belt digging into his chest, as the car lurched and took a corner with squealing tyres. "Dammit, Bartowski! Don't space out!"
Right. They were still being chased by what looked like half the LAPD. Save yourself now, celebrate Saah's rescue later. "Right," he said. He needed a plan. And quickly - the cops were herding them, boxing them in. Dad could only do so much with hacking and misdirection. But what could they do… oh. "We need to swap cars," he said.
"No shit," Casey snapped. "But that's kind of hard with so many tails."
"Right," Chuck repeated himself. They needed a car. And a distraction. Oh. "Alright. I've got it. Almost. I just need a map." He opened the tracking program on his laptop. "Alright," he muttered again, trying to ignore how he almost lost the laptop when Casey had to take a small detour over the next sidewalk to avoid crashing into some slow-driving limousine - probably a lost tourist in a rental.
"What are you planning?" Morgan said. "Can I help?"
"Yes. Call Dad and tell him to send me the locations of the cars chasing us. If he can." Chuck really needed an uncompromised communication network. Even with Shaw down, they couldn't trust their radios, though. He picked up his phone, using one hand to keep the laptop in place. "Sarah?"
"Chuck."
"We need to swap cars," he told her. "Where exactly are you right now? We'll take your car, and Caridad will drive ours as a distraction until she can ditch it." A slayer could easily evade the cops on foot. Or jump into the sea and swim away underwater.
"Hell yeah!" Caridad said. "Good plan!"
The cops were shooting at them. It had taken them longer to start shooting than Chuck had expected, given the LAPD's reputation, but they were now trying to make up for the time lost, or so it seemed - as soon as any patrol car had a clear shot, they took it. Repeatedly.
Chuck ducked as another bullet hit the car's backside with a by now familiar sound, and Morgan gasped.
"It's an armoured car, dolt," Casey snarled. "Don't freak out."
Chuck knew that, but he couldn't help it. Golden bullets were a thing. Just because something was very improbable didn't mean it was impossible. And it wasn't as if he had anything else to do, other than keeping track of cars. Theirs and the cops'.
Speaking off… "Uh, take the next left; right's going to be blocked."
"That'll take us off course," Casey replied.
"Can't be helped," Chuck said, grabbing his laptop with both hands as the car turned even tighter and barrelled down a side alley, trash flying left and right.
"We can't make it to the garage with the damn chopper hounding us," Casey spat.
"We can't shoot it down," Chuck retorted - not for the first time.
"We could use a crossbow to shoot a grappling line into the rotor," Morgan proposed.
"I meant that we shouldn't kill cops," Chuck said.
"They're trying to kill us," his friend replied.
"Because they think we're terrorists. They were tricked," Chuck explained.
"Tricked or not won't change that they're trying to kill us," Casey snapped. "Bloody Shaw framed us good. We need to get rid of the chopper, or we're dead - we won't reach the garage in time."
Chuck pressed his lips together so he didn't blurt out his first response. As much as he hated to admit it, the NSA agent was correct - they were getting boxed in and hadn't been able to get closer to Sarah and Caridad in the last few minutes - quite the contrary, actually. Unless a miracle happened, they wouldn't last much longer. Perhaps they could meet with Sarah's car somewhere else… but they needed cover for the swap, and they couldn't get away on foot.
Damn. This was hopeless. They might as well give up… Chuck blinked. Of course! "Sarah, listen up - you too, Dad!" he added, yelling so his father would hear him. "I've got it!"
"This is a stupid plan," Casey growled. "A really stupid plan. We're talking about the LAPD here."
"It'll work," Chuck said. It had to.
"They're still shooting at us," Morgan stated the obvious. "Shouldn't Sarah have reached them now?"
"Any minute," Chuck said.
"We don't have a minute!" Casey snarled. "Both roads ahead are blocked, and the ones behind us are filled with cars."
Chuck glanced back. It did look a lot like The Blues Brothers' climax. Just with everyone shooting at them. "It'll work," he repeated himself. It had to.
His phone rang. Yes!
He grabbed it. "Yes?"
"Chuck? It's me, Sarah!"
"Sarah!" He didn't have to fake his relief.
"I managed to escape! You don't have to run from the police any more! I'm safe!"
"What?"
"Tell him to stop the car and surrender, Miss," Chuck heard someone say in the background.
"Stop the car and surrender to the police, Chuck."
"But they're shooting at us!" He didn't have to fake his anxiety either, here. Not completely.
"We're telling them to stop shooting, But they have to stop the car," the man told Sarah.
"Stop the car, Chuck."
"Alright, stopping the car," he said, glancing at Casey.
With a growl, the man brought the car to a halt - about twenty yards from the roadblock. "You better hope this works, or we'll be dead."
"It's working, isn't it?" Chuck retorted. The cops had stopped shooting, finally.
"We won't know if it worked until the general gets the news."
Chuck winced. He hadn't quite considered that. But the die had been cast.
He checked if the laptop had been wiped, took a deep breath, and climbed out of the car, hands above his head. "Don't shoot! Don't shoot! We surrender! We were forced to do this by the real terrorist! Don't shoot! We didn't do anything!"
Then he had to stand there, on his good leg, while a small army of cops approached them with their guns out.
Just like in 'The Blues Brothers'.
California, Burbank, The Castle, March 7th, 2008
"It took quite some effort on our part, but the official LAPD investigation will note that a yet unknown assailant tried to force you to commit a terrorist attack by kidnapping your girlfriend. You've been cleared." General Beckman didn't sound as if she was happy, and Chuck was sure that the reason for her bad mood wasn't the fact that The Castle still sported a lot of damage.
"Thank you, ma'am," he said. They already were aware of most of it - they had been released from custody after a day in jail, after all, and the LAPD wouldn't have one that if they had still been under suspicion - but it was nice to have official confirmation. It was too bad that they had needed the help, but even with Dad clearing up the electronic data trails, especially the phone calls, they would still be behind bars without the CIA applying pressure.
"Don't thank me, Mr Bartowski," the general bit out. "You've forced my hand with your stunt."
"Sorry, ma'am," he replied with a wince. He wasn't sorry, though. Not really. This had been the best way to protect his family. And he couldn't shake the feeling that the CIA might have been happier if they had still been wanted terrorists in need of protection from the law. Although that was probably just his pop culture influence talking. "But it was the best we could do without murdering innocent police officers."
She frowned some more, but - to her credit - she didn't contest that murdering cops would have been the worse outcome. Otherwise, things would have become awkward.
"It was an unconventional but working solution to the crisis caused by Agent Shaw, ma'am," Sarah added.
It was obvious that the general liked the reminder that the agent she had sent had turned out to be a traitor even less, but Beckman nodded anyway. "Shaw's been transferred and his interrogation, as well as the investigation of the captured Fulcrum agents, has already started. The rest of his team has been called back for a thorough investigation as well."
"Uh." Chuck cleared his throat. "He was rather delusional, ma'am. And very irrational. I don't think his intel can be trusted."
"This will be taken into account when analysing the results," the general replied with a quite tight smile.
Chuck nodded. That probably meant that they would believe Shaw's theory about bionic assassins. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing, but it was better than the CIA knowing the truth. Probably.
"We've also adjusted Agent Casey's cover story to include service in the Marine Corps. It was needed to explain how a handful of supposed mall employees managed to evade a substantial part of the LAPD for so long."
Casey nodded. The man seemed to be pleased about that, Chuck noticed. Oh. That meant he could scare their coworkers even better without breaking cover…
"Agent Bane, on the other hand, managed to preserve her and Agent Walker's cover without necessitating additional steps," the general went on. "Good thinking on your feet there."
"Thank you, ma'am," the spy replied with a pleased smile as if she hadn't been informed by Dad about the plan while she had been in custody. Although, Chuck thought, that wouldn't have been possible if Bane hadn't managed to conceal a communicator from the cops, so perhaps she did deserve some of that recognition.
Not that it mattered much, anyway.
"That doesn't change the fact that you've been compromised," Beckman said, interrupting Chuck's thoughts. "Fulcrum is aware that Mr Bartowski isn't a mere IT support employee."
"Uh, assistant manager, ma'am," Chuck corrected her, then flinched at her expression. "Just to be precise, ma'am…"
Sarah gently squeezed his shoulder. He smiled at her, grateful for her support.
"The Castle has been compromised as well." The general made a point of glancing around the room - as much as it was possible for her, not actually being present, of course. "And damaged," she added with a frown.
Chuck was about to say that that was entirely the fault of Fulcrum, but Sarah squeezed his shoulder a little harder just as he opened his mouth.
"Normally, that would mean a relocation for the entire team," Beckman continued. "However, given the losses Fulcrum took - preliminary analysis came to the conclusion that a majority of their available agents have been killed or captured - and the efforts made to preserve your cover identities, it has been decided to keep your current mission going. Also, maintain your cover - we cannot rule out the possibility that some elements of the LAPD might keep an eye on you despite you being officially cleared."
What? Chuck blinked. He hadn't expected that. They had been exposed, their cover identities revealed to Fulcrum, their base sabotaged, and they wanted to just keep going? Why would they…? Oh. Their current mission.
Chuck would continue to be bait. Great.
"Dismissed, Agents, Mr Barowski."
Chuck sighed as soon as the screen - which had miraculously survived the fighting apart from some scratches - turned black.
"That's a surprise," Bane commented. "I would have expected to be relocated. Although we did hurt Fulcrum significantly. They've lost a base and two strike teams coming after us, at least."
Casey snorted. "They believe Shaw's theory about cybernetically augmented spies. That's why they want to keep us here - they hope that Fulcrum will lose more assets and that our 'mysterious allies' will be exposed as well."
Chuck looked at Sarah, who had taken the seat next to him. She nodded. "I agree."
And odds were, the CIA wouldn't stop looking for a black research project that didn't exist. Not any more.
Great.
California, Los Angeles, Echo Park, March 7th, 2008
Chuck closed his eyes and sighed as he sat down on the couch in their living room.
"Is your leg giving you trouble?" Sarah asked from the kitchen.
"No more than usual," he replied. Having a broken leg was really annoying. And tiring. But all things considered, it was a minor problem. Unless he was getting shot at. Which was the real problem. He sighed again.
"What's wrong?" Sarah handed him a soda.
"What isn't wrong?" He snorted. "Thanks." After a moment, he went on: "Fulcrum knows all about us - we're still in danger. And the CIA is using us as stalking horses to find out more about a secret research project that only exists in Fulcrum and Shaw's minds." And it was his fault. If he had managed to think of a better plan...
"But we're all alive. Our cover's intact as far as the rest of the world is concerned. Shaw's been dealt with. And Fulcrum lost a lot of people - thanks to you."
"Thanks to me?" He shook his head. "I didn't do anything."
"You defeated two strike teams and defended the base."
"I only helped to stall them until the others arrived," he retorted.
"And you took out a third of them by yourself," she told him.
By burning them to death. He winced at the reminder, and she flinched.
"Sorry."
He shook his head. "It's OK." It wasn't, but that wasn't important right now.
"But you also found a way out of Shaw's trap without killing innocents. And you saved me without giving in to his demands."
"That was just luck. If Caridad had been a little slower…" He shook his head again. "And I was too slow to warn you."
"Shaw got lucky, too." She put a hand on his cheek as she stared into his eyes. "It came down to him against you. His plans against yours. And he had the time to prepare - he had the initiative and the surprise on his side, and Fulcrum's help. And you had a broken leg. But you beat him anyway. You beat a top spy, Chuck. At spying."
Put it like that… He started to smile. "I guess I did." He had been lucky, he couldn't deny that. But he had beaten Shaw. And without using the Intersect.
"I guess I'm a spy," he said. He was a spy. A real spy. Not a fluke or a walking computer. A spy. He was pulling his weight.
And that felt damn good.
She nodded. "You are. And a damn good one."
Then she leaned forward and kissed him.
That felt even better, though. Sarah was more important than being a spy.
Much more important than anything else, he thought as he wrapped his arms around her.
...to be continued in 'The Burbank Team'