A/N: Right. I still don't own Chuck. You'd think that would be obvious by this point.
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A protected compound, Gozo, an island in the Maltese Archipelago, Mediterranean Sea
Lau Wang did a flip turn and started back in the other direction. She loved swimming every day in the summer. The rhythm of the strokes and swooshing sound of the water took her mind away from her day-to-day concerns and moved her thoughts into that zen state people raved about. Over and over and over and over. It calmed her.
She heard a shout from the edge of the pool, her brother Jason. Pulling herself upright and taking the goggles off her eyes she said, "What's up?"
"Beck is on the line from Lichtenstein. Wants to talk to us about a new job," he said.
"Did you tell him we'd taken the summer off?" she asked, with a pout.
"Yeah. He told me that it's September and the summer's over. Anyway, it sounds important and urgent. Let's hear what he has to say." He reached down and took his sister's hand, pulling her up from the water. He handed her a towel and they began to walk to the side of the pool where some outdoor couches and chairs had been arranged. There was a speaker phone on a wicker table.
"Ok, Beck, Lau is with me. What do you have for us?"
"Your last job, if you want it," the man said.
"Why last?" asked Jason.
"Because if you pull off this job you will both be red-hot for the next two generations," Beck answered dryly.
"Shit," said Jason.
"Who's the target?" asked Lau.
"Yes," said Beck with a chuckle.
"No, Beck, who's the target?" repeated Lau.
"He certainly is."
"You're not making any sense," she said, getting annoyed.
"Hu is the target. Hu Jintao, the President of China. And...George W. Bush, the President of the United States. At a summit in a few days in Washington, DC."
Jason let out a bark of laughter and said, "Stop messing around, Beck. What's really going on?"
"I'm serious. The White Dragon Triad wants them dead. They are prepared to pay a premium. It's why I said your last job."
"How much of a premium?" asked Lau, intrigued.
"Fifty million dollars," said Beck.
"No, no, no," said Jason, shaking his head at his sister. "This is insane. Even if we could do it, to have both the Americans and the Chinese after us for the rest of our lives? It's not worth it, Lau. Neither of those nations ever, ever forgets. We'd never get a good night's sleep ever again. It's not worth it."
"Jase," said Lau, "think about it, though. That's only if they know it was an assassination. We could make it look like an accident. We are the best of the best. It's why we command a premium. This would be our masterpiece. The one hit that no one else would dare to try. And if we pull it off, that's it. We're done. Retired. Sitting in the sun in comfort forever. Basking in the knowledge that we could pull something off that every other assassin on the planet would be afraid to try."
"I know how competitive you are, but this can't possibly be worth it. So, we get bragging rights? So what? What can we do with those while hiding in a hole someplace with spec ops teams closing in? And not just one nation. Two of them. They don't even fucking like each other, but hunting us will make for a tight alliance there. I wouldn't do it for twice the money," said Jason, shaking his head.
"Beck, I think my brother and I are going to have to talk about this, but in the meantime, tell the White Dragons we want twice the money. One hundred million. No negotiation. Take it or leave it," she said.
"I'll pass along the message, Lau, but you are pushing your reputation to the extreme here. They probably wouldn't bite," he said.
"I understand. It will be what it will be. As you said, this would be our last job, so they have to pay for our retirement. My brother and I have to discuss it. And, anyway, I still think it's summer here," she said.
"OK. I'll let you know what they say," he said with a sigh, breaking the connection.
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Bel-Air, Los Angeles, California
Assistant United States Attorney Belinda Jackson closed the door to her daughter's room softly and moved silently down the hall. The last thing she wanted was for the baby to wake up and prolong the night-time ritual for another half hour. She was tired herself and just wanted to have her husband rub her feet while she talked to him about their respective days. Maybe with a glass of wine.
In her hand her cell phone buzzed. The name shown on the screen was Allen Russell, a lawyer she'd dealt with a few times over the years. He was decent defense lawyer, now representing one of the more junior White Dragon Triad members facing a long sentence in the human trafficking case she was prosecuting.
She glanced at the time on the phone. It was after nine o'clock. Late for a call.
"Hi, Allen. Little late for you, isn't it?"
"Hi, Belinda. I know it's late, but I need to talk to you. Immediately and in person."
"OK. I'm good in the morning after ten. But I've only got about fifteen..."
"No. I'm sorry, Belinda. Immediately. As in right now."
"Allen, you're scaring me. Right now I'm at home," she said.
"And I'm parked across the street. Please."
"What the hell?"
"I'm not overreacting," he said, sounding desperate.
It didn't take her long. She'd known him for a few years. He was a tough lawyer and a strong advocate for his clients, and was a good ethical man and seemed to have sound judgement. "Ok. Come on up."
She told her husband what was about to happen and he immediately went to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee.
Russell knocked on the door and she opened it to admit him. He was still in his business suit, but had loosened his tie. She, on the other hand, had changed into yoga pants and a tee-shirt. Russell looked stressed.
She sat him in the living room on the sofa and took the adjacent easy chair, curling her legs under her.
"I'd be understating it to tell you I'm intrigued. What the hell is going on?" she asked.
"My client Chen told me something late this afternoon. He wants to trade his information for a pardon and Witsec," said Russell, referring to witness protection from the US Marshals Service.
Jackson bit back a laugh. Russell's client was asking for the holy grail of trades. A free walk and a new life. She read Russell's body language and saw a tension she'd never seen in him before. He was deadly serious. She had never thought of him as prone to hyperbole. Whatever Chen had given him to trade had shaken him badly.
"If I judge it worthy of that, you can tell him he's got it."
"Fair enough. I trust you to do the right thing. The White Dragons, at the direction of Lo Pan, are hiring the Yama Twins to assassinate both Presidents at the summit in DC next week."
Jackson suddenly felt lightheaded. "Holy fuck," she breathed. In an instant, she wasn't tired any more.
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Metropolitan Detention Center, Los Angeles, California (Federal Custody)
Chen's cellmate was taken from their shared cell at about ten PM and moved to a temporary holding cell elsewhere. Once he was out of the way, six prison guards dressed in armor and riot gear moved to Chen and told him to pack all his belongings. He did so while they watched the rest of the prison over their shoulders.
Chen was marched through the building to the garage where he was put into a black SUV with tinted windows with a huge prison guard sitting on each side of him.
The garage doors opened and the black car sped out and onto North Alemeda. Once clear of the building, the lights and siren were activated and the vehicle began to speed through darkness of the late summer night.
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Los Angeles Office of the United States Secret Service, South Figueroa
John Chen sat at the metal table with a cup of tea in front of him, both hands wrapped around it. He didn't need to hold it for warmth, but to hide the fact that, without it, his hands would be shaking pretty uncontrollably.
His lawyer, Russell, sat next to him. The woman prosecutor, Jackson, sat across, next to a man from the Secret Service.
The man said, "Ok, one more time from the top, please, Mr. Chen."
"Lo Pan told us that he had instructed his lawyer..."
"Lin Zang," said the man.
"Yes. Lo Pan told him to contact the leaders of the White Dragons...
"Ren Hai and Han Lin," said the man.
"Yes," agreed Chen. "And order them to hire the Yama Twins to kill the Presidents. Spare no expense. He was very proud of himself. He told us that even if you manage to stop him, there's nothing further you can do to him."
"What do you know about the Yama Twins?"
Chen visibly shivered. "Just what I've heard...you know, heard around, they are deadly and scary. If they are hired, the targets are dead. Like a ghost killed them. Some say they are actual yaogui..
"What's that?"
"Ghosts. Weird ghosts. They can transform into any object to hide themselves. I don't really believe it...well, I mean I don't think so, but some of the other men in the Triad...not as educated as I am, they believe it, you know?" asked Chen.
"Of course. How would they go about hiring the Twins?"
"I don't know. But I know that they can. The Twins killed a man in Macao for them last year."
"Are they really twins?"
"I don't know."
"Do you have anything else to tell us?" the man asked.
"I do not." Chen looked to Russell sitting next to him.
Russell, in turn, looked at Jackson, who said, "Let us check out what he's told us, to the extent we can. In the meantime, he can stay here under guard. If it comes out right, he'll get the pardon and a new life."
"Thank you, Belinda."
"Wait here, please, guys," she said, following the Secret Service agent out of the room.
They stepped into the adjacent room, with the one-way mirror observing the interrogation of Chen. Inside the room were another man from Jackson's office, a senior man from the Secret Service, an officer of the Diplomatic Security Service, and a security officer from the Chinese Consulate in Los Angeles. The men had turned off the speaker from the other room, so as not to listen to Chen and his lawyer.
"What do you think?" asked Jackson.
"I think we have a huge problem," said the senior Secret Service man.
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Castle Studios, Los Angeles, California, the next morning
The five members of Team B were meeting for breakfast in the commissary of Castle Studios.
As Bryce sat down next to him with his breakfast tray, Chuck said, "Late night?"
Bryce gave one of his insouciant grins and said, "I was in bed early, but got very little sleep."
"Ah. I got it. Another actress?"
"I think so. I'm not too sure what she does for a living, to be honest. Didn't come up in conversation," he said, digging into his omelet.
"Did you even bother to learn her name this time?" asked Zondra, with an exasperated roll of her eyes.
"Of course," said Bryce, taking a sip of his cappuccino. "Her name was Julia...I think..."
"You disgust me," said Zondra, but without the conviction of any real anger.
"What can I tell you? Los Angeles is a target rich environment for a single straight guy," shrugged Bryce. "I'm just killing time until Ms. Right appears in my life."
Sarah was uncharacteristically quiet, sipping her coffee and having only toast for breakfast. She looked like she didn't feel too well at the moment. Chuck rubbed her back and she gave him a half-hearted smile.
Casey didn't seem to notice as he tucked into a large stack of pancakes.
In the early days of the team they would meet for breakfast in Echo Park to run through intelligence packets sent from DC to see if Chuck would flash. As his downloaded Intersect was almost a year old at this point, Chuck was flashing less and less. What had been an everyday occurrence was down to once or twice a month. And rarely were his flashes productive of useful intelligence. As a result, they didn't bother with a meeting for them all to watch Chuck skim the contents of the packets. He would do that on his own in Castle when they went downstairs.
The routine had developed that they would all head down to their headquarters and check in with the administrative duties they had for their real jobs. Maybe they would be assigned a mission or task to handle. If there was nothing else going on, then Chuck, Sarah and Casey would head up to Carmichael Industries. Zondra would head up to the executive floor of the Studio for her cover job with Lisa Mattock. Bryce would head out to the lot for whatever stunt work he'd been booked for that day.
They were almost finished their breakfast together when Chuck's phone buzzed. He looked at the message and said, "Finish up, guys. Malone wants a video conference soonest. Something's up."
Within minutes, they were in Castle and pulling up the conference. Malone, Beckman, and Graham were all there on split screen.
Malone began the briefing. "Morning, Team. We have a new one for you. Command performance this time around. Your old friend Lo Pan is causing trouble from inside his prison cell. President Hu Jintao of China spoke with President Bush this morning and requested that your team be assigned to help handle it. Seems he remembers your take-down of the White Dragons with some satisfaction. He's assigning one of their agents to work with you. A woman named Agent Cho. You worked with her on the operation that put Lo Pan behind bars."
Casey made a noise of some kind that Beckman took to mean a level of disapproval.
"Problem, Colonel?" asked Beckman.
"No, Ma'am," said Casey. "Looking forward to working with her again. She's a good spy."
Sarah spoke up, "No problem at all, General. She's a friend. She's going to be one of my bridesmaids."
"Ok. Great then," said Beckman.
"What's the mission, Director Malone? Got to be a pretty serious problem for the Presidents to confer directly," said Chuck.
"It is. The White Dragons seemed to have hired a couple of legendary...almost mythical, assassins to kill both Presidents at the summit in a few days."
"Call off the summit," said Sarah immediately.
"The Secret Service said the same thing. Call it off. Postpone it. Move it. Neither President will agree to that. For ours at least, it's the last opportunity in his administration. He wants to achieve a breakthrough on trade before he leaves office in January. The summit goes ahead as planned. But with your team, augmented by Agent Cho, trying to track down a couple of ghosts before they can get past the tightest security on the planet."
"Yes, Sir," said Chuck.
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A/N2: How'd I do, guys?