A/N1 More story. More comes into focus.

Don't own Chuck. (I write this so often it starts to seem suspicious, even to me, like maybe I do. But I don't. - There, I did it again.)

Chutes and Ladders

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Checkers

They were ready. Chuck was holding Sarah's hand, seated on the floor of the truck beside her. Casey's arm was around Rhonda's shoulders, holding her close. They were quiet and tense. They knew that when the truck stopped they would be in a fight for their lives.

Casey snorted with laughter, killing the quiet. Three heads turned toward him. "Just thinking. One hell of a double date, Bartowski."

Chuck gave a resigned snicker and glanced at Sarah. "Never say I don't show my best girl a good time…"

Sarah gave him one of those smiles of hers, and it was visible in the dark, palpable in his whole body. She leaned into him, pressing her chest against his arm and shoulder. She put her lips next to his ear and she whispered, only just audibly: "I love you, Chuck Bartowski. I would not want to be anywhere else with anyone else. You're my guy."

Chuck pulled back and stared into her eyes, his movement a question. She nodded, her smile now containing an admission of vulnerability and exposure. Chuck leaned into her and kissed her smile gently, feeling her kiss him back just as gently. Then he moved his lips to her ear. "I love you too, Sarah. Absolutely." She put her arms around him, hugged him and he hugged her back.

ooOoo

Sarah hugged Chuck with her eyes closed. When she opened them, still hugging him, she saw Rhonda grinning at her. Rhonda whispered hoarsely, "Truck's slowing down. So, if you two are done playing Password, we should get ready."

Casey caught Sarah's eyes and actually smiled at her too. He gave her a herky-jerky thumbs up - obviously not a familiar gesture. Then he grunted approvingly. That seemed more familiar and comfortable. She smiled at him and felt a spike of pleasure despite their situation, despite her fears for Sasha and her parents. She prayed she was wrong in thinking that the Monroes were the victims Perry referred to, but she feared it was so. They needed to get free, get to the Monroes' place, see if they could find Sasha.

Although it had taken them some time, they had not crossed that much desert. Shaw, or whatever his name was, did not seem to be in a hurry. They were going fast enough that jumping from the truck would have been dangerous, but not so fast that they were many miles from their cars.

The truck slowed, slowed, bounced, and stopped. Casey and Rhonda stretched out on the floor, resuming their earlier posture, the one Chuck and Sarah first saw when Shaw opened the truck. Chuck knelt on both knees near the gate of the truck. Sarah sat down, her legs in front of her, one arm around her knees, her head hanging down. One hand was near the holster of knives; the other fisted the fabric of her jeans, ready to pull up the leg of her jeans to give her access.

Sarah was chanting "Perry" to herself. He seemed to be the brains of the twosome. He was also the one who had (so far) brandished a gun. Sarah's hope was that he would come to the gate, either by himself or with Shaw.

She heard a door slam. Another followed. The passenger side first: Perry. She heard his steps in the sand. Shaw seemed to be standing by the driver's side door; she heard no movement. Then Perry was at the gate, gun in one hand, flashlight in the other, motioning for them to get out. Shaw came into view. He was carrying something...a shovel. He had it in one hand, hanging at his side. Perry pivoted just a bit to look at Shaw. It was time.

In one concerted motion, Sarah pulled up her pants leg with one hand, grabbed and threw a knife with the other. Her aim was true. Perry gasped. She had impaled the knife deep into the forearm of his gun hand. The gun hit the sand. As it did, Chuck got to his feet and leaped out of the truck, stretching out to his full length as he sailed across the sand. He cleared the truck bed and got all the way to Shaw.

Shaw registered the threat too late to do anything more than put the shovel's handle between himself and Chuck. Sarah lost track at that point, as she threw herself to the side, then to her feet and jumped out toward Perry. She landed and threw a kick The sand slowed her rate of rotation, and so the blow was not as heavy as she intended. Still, she contacted Perry's head. It snapped back and the flashlight fell and rolled, its light cutting across the combat.

ooOoo

Chuck managed to grab the shovel handle and to carry his momentum into Shaw. They went down with a sandy splash, the shovel's handle burying itself in Shaw's chest and knocking some of the wind out of him. Chuck punched Shaw's face a couple of times before Shaw was able to use the shovel handle to strike at Chuck, the non-blade end hitting Chuck hard over the head. But the pain only increased Chuck's anger. He hit Shaw in the face again, savagely. Shaw hit Chuck again, dazing him. Chuck felt dizzy himself.

"Stop! I have the gun!" Casey's voice. Shaw stopped. Chuck had already begun another swing and he connected hard with Shaw's mouth. Blood flowed freely from it.

"Kid! Stop!"

Chuck looked around to see Sarah (she's fine!) standing over Perry. Perry was moaning, rolling from side to side in the sand, holding his arm, a knife sticking out of it. Rhonda had the flashlight. Casey was standing with Perry's gun.

Chuck shook his head, trying to clear it of rage and cobwebs. For a moment, he felt like Sasha's red-eyed frog, pissed to high heaven, ready to do serious damage to the Shaw guy. Chuck realized his leap from the truck had been frog-like itself. He heard Casey say: "Rhonda. Check out the cab for a first aid kit. See if our weapons and cuffs are in there. Phones too. Sarah, are you okay?" Chuck breathed in greater relief when he heard her calm yes.

And then she was in front of him, looking into his face.

"Chuck, Chuck?" Chuck looked at her, her blue eyes flashing in the light from the flashlight. He grabbed her and kissed her in relief. He heard Casey grunt, and then punctuate the grunt with "Hell, he's fine."

Sarah ran her hands through Chuck's curls, but then pulled her lips from his. She had her hand on a spot on his head.

"Wow, that's quite a lump, Chuck. I guess you get to join the club with Casey and Rhonda."

ooOoo

As if summoned, Rhonda came running back with her hands full. She stopped at Casey's side. He took his gun and cuffs and phone from her. She handed him a small blue first aid kit. He went to Perry, whose moaning had grown less loud.

"Shut up. I'll fix you. You're lucky she's no killer. That girl can handle a knife." Casey looked toward Chuck and Sarah, a question on his face, but then looked back at Perry.

He grabbed Perry's arm and Perry screamed as Casey pulled the knife free. Rhonda cuffed Shaw and wiped the blood from his face. She went to Casey and got some gauze from the first aid kit. She handed Shaw the gauze to put against his lip. Chuck burst Shaw's lip in several places. The gauze began quickly to redden. Shaw shot Chuck a threatening look but could do nothing about it.

Casey finished with Perry and cuffed him too. Perry was still moaning, and Casey was getting more annoyed. "I hate it when the bad guys are babies."

Chuck and Sarah got their phones from the pile of stuff on the ground beside Rhonda. Chuck checked: no signal.

They put Perry and Shaw in the back of the truck and used a heavy rope from the floor of the cab to bind their hands and feet. Rhonda asked about Perry. Casey rolled his eyes. "He'll keep bleeding, but not to death, dammit." Rhonda picked up Chuck's gun and gave it to him. He put it in the empty shoulder holster.

Casey stationed Rhonda as a guard at the back of the truck, gun in hand, and he motioned for Sarah and Chuck to join him. They walked to the front of the truck.

About ten yards in front of the truck was a huge, irregular and shallow hole in the desert floor. Above it, anchored to heavy metal poles in each corner and once along each side (they could see it as Casey swept the flashlight around), was camouflage netting. Casey shot the beam of the flashlight down into the hole as they got to its edge. There were many, many steel drums, large, sealed, standing in close formation.

"Oh, shit. Glow-in-the-dark FARMA crap, I bet," Casey growled. He started down the steep side of the hole, slipping and sliding in the loose dirt and sand. Chuck and Sarah followed him, slipping and sliding themselves. Casey got to the first of the drums. It was tall, reaching well past Casey's waist, and wide in diameter. It was sealed with a handled, metal ring. The seal was tight, probably airtight.

Casey handed Chuck the flashlight and grabbed the handle. He pulled it toward him with a mighty heave. It began to open, pulling away from the mouth of the drum. It took a couple of similar heaves for Casey to get the ring handle all the way back and then to remove the ring from the mouth of the drum. Sarah retrieved one of her knives and handed it to Casey. He used it to pry at the mouth of the drum.

The air seal broke with a strange, almost human sigh. Casey pulled the lid off and the stench smacked all three of them like a warm, greasy palm. Chuck shone the flashlight into the drum and there, in a pool of thick, greenish liquid, was the decomposing face of a corpse. The smell was foul past bearing - chemical and organic, sweet and putrid and poisonous all at once. Chuck gagged and heard Sarah and Casey gagging too. They all backed away from the drum.

"Sweet Jesus! I did not expect that. Lord!" Casey stomped his feet, shaking his head, trying to loosen the grip of the horror he'd just seen. "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus…"

After a moment, he pulled himself together. "Okay, we need a team here. I ain't prying another of these chem Spam drums open. Someone else can be the checker. What I just saw is gonna leave a damn scar." Casey scrambled up the side of the hole. Chuck and Sarah followed.

"You two drive. I'll get in the back with these two assholes - and Rhonda!" Casey half-ran to the back of the truck. Chuck jumped up into the driver's seat. Sarah had her phone out.

"Shit, Chuck. No reception. Too far into the desert, I guess." Chuck nodded, started the truck. Casey slapped the back of the cab. He and Rhonda were ready. Chuck swung the truck around and started back toward their cars. Sarah slid over the seat to him and put her arms around him. Neither spoke. She kissed his ear and put her head on his shoulder. He pushed the accelerator down and the truck lurched into motion.

ooOoo

Sarah's phone finally had a signal. She checked a site for local news. She flinched. Chuck, fearing the worst, asked: "What is it, Sarah? Sasha? The Monroes?"

"No, Chuck. Nothing about them here. It's a story about Police Captain Larkin and his guest, Jill Roberts. They were shot in his house earlier today. Bryce is dead. Jill is in the ICU. They aren't sure she's going to make it."

She looked up, her eyes huge. "And, Chuck, you are wanted for questioning, as a Person of Interest…"

A/N2 Ummm...so...yeah. Twisting Cobra Style. More next time, Chapter 20, "I Spy".