The neon lights and bars

And headlights from the cars

Started a symphony surrounding me

The things I left behind

Have melted in my mind

And now there's a purity inside of me

"This Time"

Jonathan Rhys Meyers

October 13, 2021

Burbank, California

"Get dressed, kiddo," Chuck called into his son's room. "You're coming to work with your mom and me."

Stephen wasn't really sick, not the type of sick that his parents usually let him stay home for. After the morning talk with his parents, the anxious worry that had been making him feel sick was gone. His mind was still trying to wrap around everything they had told him…but at least, it had now started to make sense, all those jumbled pictures and images, both from the Intersect and outside of it.

Contrary to what a lot of his friends thought, Stephen had always thought his parents were cool, or at least cooler than anyone else's parents. Now he had the proof, even though he could never tell anyone about it.

"What am I going to do all day at your work?" Stephen asked as he slid across the bed to climb out.

"Not all day, just for a little while. Your mom will bring you back. Partly because you can't stay home alone and partly because no one can stay here with you," Chuck explained.

Carter had called the moment Morgan had departed. He had suggested bringing Stephen in case he could flash about any of the things he and Vivian had dug up concerning the U.S. corporation that had been funding the Sentries in Europe for the past eleven years. Chuck had reluctantly agreed, feeling his father's words again about allowing Stephen to be who he was meant to be. He could still help them and maintain his childhood. Chuck knew where to draw the line, and he was sticking to it fiercely.

Chuck also knew Stephen wouldn't be in the way there, especially considering Hannah and her husband, with her twins, were there for a meeting with General Beckman, Casey and Cole Barker. They all had a lot of work to do, and the children could help keep each other occupied.

October 13, 2021

Carmichael Industries, Los Angeles, California

"Hi, Stephen," Cozette said as she sat beside him at the table in the break room. The young girl tugged on her braid, looking shyly at the table top. No one else was in the room with them.

"Hey," Stephen replied. "Where's your brother?" he asked, surprised that she was alone, as he couldn't remember seeing them not in each other's company.

"With my father," she answered. She puffed out her breath, making her dark brown bangs flutter against her forehead. "That still sounds weird to me. My father," she added, like she was talking to herself. "I can't believe it," she gushed.

"Thinking someone is dead…and then finding out that they aren't…that feels like a miracle, don't you think? Like you found out angels are real…or Santa Claus…something you never thought could ever happen…and it just did…" Stephen rambled. "Oh! Wait…you knew about Santa, didn't you? Did I just ruin it? I'm glad Pierre–"

Cozette giggled at him, completely unaware of how much of Stephen's father was there in the way he was talking to her. He had not only his father's hair and his height, but a lot of his mannerisms, including the tendency to ramble when he was nervous. "Don't worry. My mother told us about Pere Noel when we were nine. My brother asked…asked…for my father to not be dead. She had to explain to both of us then…although…" She sighed and opened her eyes wider. "I guess he got his wish, though, didn't he?"

Stephen was listening, realizing he was fascinated by the way Cozette spoke. Her English was perfect and unaccented, as clear as his own. Just those two words…Pere Noel…interspersed, spoken in perfect, rapid French…was what he focused on. "It's so cool…that you speak two languages and you're only 11."

"My mom was American and my dad was French. We learned French first…but to talk to my grandparents, we had to speak English. My mom learned French for her work, before she ever met my dad," Cozette explained. She shrugged and sighed. "Although, I guess, all of that story that we know isn't really true. My dad was really a spy."

"I know exactly what you mean. About both things…although I only thought my dad was dead for a day, not two years," Stephen commiserated.

"I don't know what's going to happen now," Cozette added worriedly. "Do we move back to France? Back to Santa Barbara? Somewhere else if my dad has to still hide from the government or whatever…"

"That really sucks," Stephen sighed, just getting used to using different words with his peers than his parents. The word "sucks" was no big deal, but his mother would still roll her eyes and glare if he used it.

"I hated leaving France. It took such a long time to get used to things over here. Everything was so different. But we finally started to fit in. I have friends now. And it was really nice being so close to my grandparents. I don't want to go back to France…or anywhere other than Santa Barbara now," she complained.

"I'm your friend, right?" Stephen questioned.

Cozette smiled, a beautiful beaming smile. "Yes," she admitted, feeling a delicate warmth in her cheeks when she said it. "Another reason why I don't want to go back to France."

"Maybe you won't have to. Santa Barbara isn't that far away. And we can FaceTime or call or whatever…you know, if you want. I know I'm only in fifth grade and you're in middle school…but that's not weird, right?" Stephen rambled.

"To be just friends? No, not weird. Not weird at all." She smiled again. "Did you bring your Switch?" she asked excitedly, changing the subject. "We can pick up where we left off with Super Mario Brothers…"

He bent down and pulled it from his backpack. "I always come prepared," he teased.

XXX

"GLF Industries," Carter explained as he hit the button on his computer. "Completely above boards, legitimate tax ID number, the entire thing…nothing untowards. But GLF is a shell corporation, investment partners and venture capitalists almost all are shady at best, down right criminals at worst. Lots of black market funds are changing hands, some of which can be linked to the Sentries in Europe for years, in different businesses. Stephen's initial flash was spot on. We followed from there."

"Let me guess," Chuck interrupted. "Graphitech?" he asked, still amazed that years before he had ever known Sarah or anything related to the Intersect, the baby Sarah had saved from Kieran Ryker had been orphaned because her parents' company's invention had been usurped from helping the deaf…to a way to implant intelligence directly into the brains of field operatives.

"GLF bought out Graphitech in 2011. They own the controlling interest, but left the name intact. In the legal document, they said they were purchasing their good name, something that happens a lot when companies merge or whatever. But that was the sheen. They kept the name to cover their tracks and hide the illegal workings behind the scenes," Carter explained. He was animated and very clear-spoken, no trace of his stuttering nerves now that he was in his element.

"Who owns GLF?" Sarah asked.

Carter sighed and ran his hands through his hair as he bowed his head over the table. "That's what we've been working on," he explained.

"There are a lot of documents, some in foreign languages, not all of which I speak. I've been translating for him as best as I can, but it's taking some time," Vivian explained.

"Google translate doesn't work?" Casey argued impatiently.

"It's not that simple, General," Vivian explained. "It's not a simple conversation, or even a cohesive document. It's random pieces of information all over the internet that we're pulling together."

"GLF is a private company, which makes it more difficult," Carter added. "From what we can figure out, the CEO is a woman named Juliska Lorcan. No photo, no publicity stills…nothing like that exists. We looked everywhere we could online…and it's like she never existed before she became the CEO, and has no existence outside of that role. Very strange…but we'll keep checking. GLF's headquarters are in New York…but it seems very loosely staged all over the U.S. They are working out of L.A….we just don't know in what capacity."

"It pains me to say this, but we don't have anyone in the NSA who could track this better than your people, Chuck," Beckman sighed, covering her eyes with her palm. She was old and tired and ready to be done with this craziness. She had been taking it easy these past few years, working closely with Chuck's company solely to combat cyberterrorism…none of this stressful, life threatening danger that wouldn't seem to leave them alone. That kind of work was for the young…something she most certainly was not.

"It pains her because that shouldn't be the case…but it is," Casey interjected.

"All of our agencies in Europe have reported that the Sentries have ceased operations now that their lifeline has been disconnected and their organizational structure has been decimated. Whatever is left in the U.S. is in shambles. If you can figure it out, we have the opportunity now to deal the deathblow," Beckman added. "I know these past few weeks have taken…so much from you, but…" Her voice trailed off, realizing in mid-sentence that she couldn't ask any more than she already had of these civilians.

"Kovacs said the Director was dying…right before I…shot him," Sarah reminded them.

"There were…rumors over the years, you know…concerning the director. That she never interacted with people…gave orders from the darkness. Almost no one has ever seen her face," Jacques explained.

"Could she be this…Lorcan person?" Chuck asked.

"I suppose it's a possibility. At least the best lead we have. If there is almost no online presence for her…and this strange description…I mean, I wouldn't rule it out, right?" Cole offered.

"But if they're in New York…" Sarah started.

"They were after your son. All of the strike against the NSA…all of that firepower…all of that was local. I would surmise both the Director and the Assistant are in California, most likely in L.A. as we speak," Jacques said.

"Carter, can you track the last known transaction location for any of the transfers from GLF?" Chuck asked him.

Carter knew his boss, his friend, very well. "Chuck, you're thinking if I can pinpoint that, then you can track them online, right?"

"You're damn right," Chuck piped back. "These people have done enough damage to the people that I care about. This ends now…and I promise you, if you help me, I can end it."

Sarah looked at him, watching the grim determination radiate from his eyes as he looked around the table. It was as if she could feel it, like a wave passing through her. Chuck was sweet and loving, but could be just as fierce as she was…when the people he loved were in danger.

"Mr. Robert," Beckman added, with a tired sigh. "General Casey put through the formal request to your government. The DGSE releases you unconditionally. You are free to go, no questions asked, to live your life again."

Jacques looked up inquisitively at Casey. "An…old friend of mine was repaying an old debt," Casey offered with a smirk.

XXX

"What are your plans for the future?" Chuck asked Jacques as they emerged from the conference room together.

Right outside the door, Hannah and her twins were standing around the water cooler. She smiled brightly at her husband, tilting her head gently to the side. "They released me," he told his wife. She dashed forward and hugged him.

"I know this might sound a little…crazy," Chuck started. "But, you both are perfectly qualified to work here with us. I understand it's…weird. But it's not uncomfortable any more, is it?" he asked, looking at them, considering the past as well as the future.

"It was awful when it happened, but if things hadn't happened the way they did with you two in the past, I would never have met my Hannah. It was the best thing that ever happened to me," Jacques said, staring dreamily into Hannah's eyes.

From behind Chuck, in the doorway to the conference room, Vivian added softly, "By far, that's not even the weirdest thing you'll find here. Charles and I go…way back. And it was even worse…on the surface…than your past history."

Chuck heard the veiled humor in her tone, amazed still at how true her words were, how much had changed. Ten years ago, Vivian had almost killed his wife, and now she worked with him and was a part of their family. Adding in Hannah and her ex-spy husband seemed like the right thing to do.

"We'd have to move to L.A…" Hannah muttered. "The children have had so many changes in the past few years."

"This would be the last, Cheri," Jacques told her. "Cozette and Stephen have become fast friends, you know."

Chuck opened his eyes wide and regarded Sarah as well as Jacques and Hannah. "Is that so?"

"Starting like that, how could we say no?" Hannah laughed.

Sarah excused herself to take Stephen home. Chuck promised only a few more hours of work here with Vivian and Carter, and he would follow.

XXX

Vivian stretched herself across her boyfriend's lap, pushing herself between him and his computer. She circled her arms around his neck and kissed him softly. "You have been at this for far too long without a break, my love," she murmured against his lips.

He hummed softly as he kissed her back. "A break like a food break? Or a break like stretching you on my desk and ravaging you break?"

"Can we do both?" she teased. He huffed, then giggled. "Not at the same time, mind you," she added with a smile.

"Ten minutes won't hurt the cause, you think?" he asked as he pulled her tighter into his arms.

"Ten minutes? Are you kidding?" she laughed, sinking into his arms and kissing him deeper.

In actuality, a little more than ten minutes had gone by when the silence, created by the two of them being alone in the office, was shattered. Literally…by the sound of breaking glass.

October 13, 2021

Burbank, California

"Sarah!"

Standing on the sidelines at her son's karate practice, Sarah was startled when she heard the exclamation. Andrea Tisdale's, Griffin's mother's voice, elevated with joyful surprise. Sarah turned quickly, shifting her attention away from her son and his movements to see the other woman rushing up.

"It's so nice to see you. I feel like it's been ages," Andrea beamed politely. "How've you been?"

The separation between the two women seemed extreme in Sarah's mind at that moment. Andrea was her friend. Not like Vivian, or anyone else in the group that knew everything about Chuck and Sarah in the past, as well as the strange present. But they were friends, always talking about their sons, their daughters, and their husbands, up to a point, Sarah added in her mind, remembering the silence she always maintained when they talked about things she didn't feel comfortable discussing.

How had Sarah been? She had been on a covert mission–in England, then France, where she had dangled off a gargoyle on the cathedral of Notre Dame, then Hungary, then back to England. She had killed international terrorists hell bent on creating robotic soldiers with implantable intelligence modules in their brains. She had endured an existential crisis–searching for her true self, her true worth…to have finally found it again, when she looked into her husband's eyes and realized just how much, how profoundly, he truly did love her, and always had.

"Fine. Busy," Sarah replied, her lips twisting to the side as she heard how incongruous those words were to what was in her head. But, at least at this moment, that was ok. Normal was relative, and not a way to gauge their happiness in any way, shape, or form. She felt like she understood that better than she ever had before. It was liberating.

Things shifted in her mind then, as she recalled what her son had told her early this morning. Maybe the separation was extreme, but there were things, even profound things, they had in common. Things she had never known…but something that had the potential to bind them. Someone else who understood that same trauma she and Chuck had lived with for all this time. Sarah was sure if Chuck was here, he would have known how to start the conversation. Sarah was still lacking in that fluid tongue her husband excelled with. But she had to try…even if Andrea just told her politely she didn't want to discuss it. She channeled her inner Chuck, took a deep breath, and began.

"Andrea, I don't mean to be…nosy…or…you know, like Tammy," Sarah started.

"You could never be like Tammy, Sarah," Andrea added quickly with a wide smile. "You're too nice. And happily married," she added with a smirk. At Sarah's confused face, Andrea added, "She's just jealous. Every single woman here has seen the way Chuck looks at you." She sounded wistful.

"Jim loves you, Andrea. I've seen the way he looks at you," Sarah offered.

Andrea beamed. "I know he does," she said whispering like she was telling Sarah a secret. "He annoys me, don't get me wrong, but sometimes, when he's sitting on the couch and watching baseball with Griffin, I forget that he's getting crumbs in the cushions…I just watch him…interacting with Griff…and I get all misty-eyed. Stupid, right?" she added, getting a little misty here as well it seemed.

"Not stupid," Sarah challenged. She dove in after that exchange. "Andrea…Chuck and I just found out from Stephen…about Brian." Andrea blinked rapidly, trying to mitigate her already misty eyes.

"I…don't want to upset you, I just–" Sarah started.

"No, it's ok, Sarah. Stephen knows because Griffin told him. It's part of our family's history. Part of who we are. It's hard, but we can't just…pretend it didn't happen, you know?" she explained.

"That's why I…I feel like there's something I should tell you. Something I never, ever talked about before. Something that Stephen and his sisters never knew. Stephen just found out about it," Sarah said. Andrea looked on, her eyes wide in anticipation. "In between Stephen and the twins, I had a miscarriage at 19 weeks. And then I almost died from DIC."

Andrea gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. "Oh, Sarah, I'm so sorry," she gushed. The shorter woman grabbed Sarah in a hug. Sarah leaned into it, surprised at how much better she felt, having told someone else, someone who understood, even a little bit, what no one in her own life, even her own mother, ever could. The embrace lasted a long time. "That was when Stephen was in the play group, right?" Andrea asked.

Her sons had been friends since they were very small, getting a head start on kindergarten, as they had been in the same play groups when they were babies. They had attended preschool together, as close as brothers in every way except that they didn't live in the same house. The brother Stephen had never had… the brother he would have had, Sarah thought. Sarah felt the emotion rumbling inside her. Tragedies happened…they were normal, it seemed. And then there were miracles…like finding a brother when one had been lost…that were normal as well.

Sarah nodded, still grappling with her emotions. Andrea continued. "Chuck was a mess back then. We all saw it. We just had no idea what was really going on…only that you were…not there like you used to be. We would send him home with dinner all the time."

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Sarah had known they had done that during that time. "I think we still have your casserole dish," Sarah said, laughing, easing the tension and the intensity of the moment.

Andrea smiled in return, connecting with her friend like she never had before. They stayed that way for the rest of practice, basking in the newly discovered warmth.

A phone call from Chuck, while practice was still ongoing, broke the spell. Sarah grabbed her vibrating phone and moved away from the group. "What's up, Chuck?" she asked.

He cut away formalities, his voice urgent and clipped when he replied. "Someone tripped the panic alarm at CI. I couldn't get through to confirm if it was real or an accident. Carter and Vivian were there alone."

"I'll meet you there," she replied crisply.

"Beckman called in tactical as a precaution…but they're 15 minutes away. We're both closer," he added in a rush, all the words running together.

"Please be careful," she implored, hearing the line click, hoping he hadn't hung up before he heard her.

One look at her frantic face, and Andrea offered before Sarah could speak. "I'll take him home, Sarah. Who's with your girls?"

Sarah didn't know. He hadn't explained. There were literally a handful of people Chuck could have asked for help. She simplified, "Family. I can't thank you enough, Andrea."

Then she took off running into the parking lot.