A/N: For the record, we never planned for this to happen at Chapter 50, but we're kinda glad it did. *Smirks for good measure*. SC...why are you glaring at me?
Disclaimer: We don't own CHUCK and we aren't making any money.
"Was it necessary to say it like that, Casey?" he vaguely heard Sarah snap over her shoulder, but he thought maybe his legs weren't working anymore. Or something, because he was starting to tip backwards and no part of his body was moving to catch his fall.
Suddenly a hand grabbed onto his arm and yanked at him to keep him from falling. "Easy there, kid." There was a pause. Then, "What? I thought that was pretty gentle."
"Hey… Chuck, you okay? Chuck…" Sarah was there, close, looking up into his face. "Chuck, speak to me. I think he's in shock or something," she muttered at Casey who was still holding onto his shirt sleeve.
"N-No, I'm...fine," he breathed, shaking his head. Even though he felt like throwing up. "I'm fine. I'm not...What-What do you mean a-a bunker?"
"That's exactly what we're trying to keep from happening, Chuck. Not just us, but all of these agents and analysts around you right now, everyone in the Buy More," Sarah explained. "We're looking for that receiver to keep you from...that."
She seemed unwilling to say they were going to throw him into a bunker. And for some reason, that suddenly made him angry. "That? What's that, Sarah? You're gonna Lazslo me? Nothing else we can do, I guess, so let's just get 'im out of our hair and lock 'im up in an underground bunker. Cool. That's great."
"Hey! Cool it, Bartowski. We're gonna find that damn fake fish and we're gonna get that receiver."
"Cool it?" He pushed Casey's hand off of his arm and clenched his jaw. "I might spend the rest of my life in a windowless room staring at bare, stone walls and you're telling me to cool it? I will not cool it! This is fucked!"
He was afraid. But anger felt better than abject fear, so he was just going to let himself lash out this time.
"I know it is, Chuck. We both know it's fucked. But we-we won't let it happen." She looked like she was trying to implore him with her eyes.
"Oh, really? And if we can't find Morgan or that fish in time?"
Neither of them said anything, but then Casey grabbed his shoulder again. "Guess we better make sure we find that bearded dumbass and that fish, then, huh? C'mon. Walker, you got things under control here?" he asked and she nodded, keeping her eyes on Chuck's. He didn't miss the reluctance in her face. "Good. Chuck and I are gonna look for Morgan. Let's go, Chuck."
Why was Sarah looking at him like that? As though she had something else to say to him but...wouldn't dare say it? Like she was hiding something from everyone else but wanted him to know...
He forced himself to turn away from her finally and followed Casey through the Buy More, back into the warehouse, and out through the loading dock door.
"Okay, look. I told you we can keep you safe, Bartowski, and I meant it. General Beckman means it." Casey hopped down off of the platform to land next to a Herder. "But if we're gonna do this, you gotta mean it, too."
Chuck stopped with his hand on the edge of the platform, ready to swing himself down to land next to Casey. After a few long moments, he realized what Casey meant, and he nodded in understanding, frowning as he hopped down. "How the hell is that gonna work when I'm in a bunker? What use is there in training a bunker prisoner to be an NSA agent?"
"You aren't gonna be in a bunker, Chuck."
"What? You and Sarah just said—"
"Not if you join with us. You agree to join the NSA and Graham can't touch you. No CIA agent can touch you. Well...except maybe Agent Walker, but that's up to you." Chuck didn't appreciate the way Casey's mouth turned up at the end all smug and whatnot. "You agree to this and you're under our jurisdiction. It takes you out of Graham's hands, and...out of his potential crosshairs."
"Is he the reason I might be going to a bunker? Is that his decision?"
Casey paused. "Yes." He looked uncomfortable saying it out loud, and Chuck wondered if there wasn't a thread of trust in the way the NSA agent had just admitted that out loud to his asset. "I'm pretty sure, at least. Walker had a barely restrained conniption once we signed off, so you can be sure she ain't in line with it. That's why the NSA is offering you this out."
Chuck frowned deeply and stuck his hands in his pockets as they walked towards Casey's SUV. He couldn't help asking, a sinking feeling in his chest. "Casey, is that...the only reason? To keep me out of a bunker?"
There was a long pause. "You need another reason, kid? Stuck underground for the rest of your life, no sunlight, no fresh air, no human contact...or training to be in the best intelligence agency in the world, becoming a real agent. Not to mention a perk I'm sure will sweeten the deal even more for ya…"
"What's that?" Chuck asked, his head in a fog.
"Walker won't be your handler anymore. You won't be her asset. She could tell you from her own experience that inter-dating between agents isn't quite as frowned upon by the brass as asset/handler is."
"See, it's that right there, Casey, that makes people think you're a giant jerk. That. I know you've got a mushy interior full of fluffers and all that nice stuff, but you say shit like that and I get why people think you're a big ol' asshole." Casey growled and narrowed his eyes as Chuck dropped it, everything the NSA agent said settling in his mind. He cleared his throat. "Look, this isn't an easy decision for me, Casey. Okay? This is...a big fuckin' deal."
He felt himself break into a cold sweat.
"It is. Yep. Know what else is a big fuckin' deal? The first time you drink something besides tang and vodka after years of only having tang and vodka to drink because you're in a fuckin' bunker, kid." Casey shrugged, and Chuck could see that in spite of the potential mockery that might exist in his words, the NSA agent was being serious.
And God, the thought of being in a bunker for the rest of his life left him feeling like… Did he even want to live that life if it consisted of nothing else but staring at a wall? "Casey, if I have to go in a bunker, is it gonna be like how Lazslo described it? He'd just sit around playing video games and inventing things for the government, making crazy 007 tools, designing our home theater room with all the spy gadgets. Except, like...the Intersect version." Casey gave him a questioning look. "I imagine some lady who looks like Nurse Ratched coming in with some folders, sitting down across the table from me, and making me look at pictures and files, flashing and flashing and more flashing until my head literally just, like, splits open."
Casey was silent for a while, long enough that they reached his SUV after a solid minute and a half of silence. Chuck swung into the passenger seat and shut the door, just sitting there and staring straight ahead.
"I don't want to be alone when I die." The interior of the car was silent for another long time, and he slowly shook his head. "That's one thing I've always...I've always thought about. You know? I-I think I could probably find some way to survive, to keep from going crazy, even if I did end up in a bunker. If I knew Ellie was happy, with Awesome and married and...you know, if I knew everyone was being taken care of. But I'm terrified of the idea that something could happen to me when I'm all alone in there...a heart attack or a stroke or some sort of...I dunno, some brain aneurysm. I don't wanna be alone when I go. It's scary." He shook his head and ran his hands up and down his pants, taking a deep breath. "I know this isn't safe, what you do. What Sarah does. Bein' a spy. And I know you guys are alone most of the time, but this has felt different, you know? This has felt like a team. The three of us."
Casey started the car and pulled out of the parking space, guiding them towards the exit and finally onto the street. "Yeah," he said quietly. "It'd be even more of a team if you joined up."
Chuck swallowed hard. "And if something happened, on a mission or whatever, if something happened to one of us, we wouldn't be alone."
"I guess not," Casey said with a shrug.
"What's gonna happen? I-I mean…" Chuck swallowed and pushed a hand through his hair. "If I join, what happens with my family, with my friends? Where am I gonna go? Where's this training gonna be? Do I—Do I go to some kind of boot camp? A school or something?"
Casey shook his head. "You're a special case, Bartowski. What with the Intersect an' all, we need to keep you under close eye. And it's important no one in your family knows anything has changed, that things are different."
"Right," he muttered softly. "Right, that makes sense. This is so crazy. Why-Why is Beckman doing this? Why is she okay with this? Me...joining the NSA? I mean, for all I know she thinks I'm a complete loser."
"She doesn't think that, kid." Casey glanced at him, then shrugged with a grunt. "Maybe she doesn't trust Graham's intentions, coupled with the fact that it don't sit right with her that someone who's done what you've done for his country might be tossed under a bus like this when you shouldn't be. And maybe after everything, you deserve a paycheck for it, too."
"A paycheck, huh? Is it a lot?"
Casey smirked. "Livable. But you don't seem the type to care much either way."
"Nah, I don't," Chuck confirmed, smiling a little. He was breathless, terrified even. But the choice wasn't all that hard, was it? A bunker or being trained as a secret agent for the NSA? But it was still so frightening, so… Well, it was a huge change. A massive change. And he didn't know if he even could do this. Was he ready to do this? Would he fail everyone? Embarrass himself? Cause Casey and Beckman shame? ...Cause Sarah shame? He was spiraling and it was nearing out of control levels.
"Look, kid. You think about it. But this is the best way for us to keep you outta Graham's claws, and...maybe it's high time we see what you got. You've got the brain power…"
"Right, the Intersect."
Casey scoffed. "Not just the Intersect. Your brain, the one you were born with. We just need to get meat on those bones, some muscle. And for God's sake, you need to know how to defend yourself."
"Will you guys stop telling me to stay in the car?"
"Probably not."
"Damn."
"But when you don't listen to us and get out to follow and play the hero, you'll actually have some tools to use besides just screeching like a toddler."
Chuck gave him a flat look. And then he sighed and tugged at his shirt, feeling how much he was sweating underneath. "We're doing this, aren't we?"
"Yeah. We are. And I'm gonna make sure we do it right." Chuck nodded at that. "But you gotta make sure we do it right, too, kid, and that means you actually tell Walker about this. She needs to know. She's in the dark and I don't like keepin' my partner in the dark. You shouldn't, either."
"She doesn't know you're offering me this chance to join the NSA? Not at all?"
Casey shook his head. "You told me not to mention it, kid. This is your big move. You control the narrative. So to speak. I'm not tellin' your mommy your business, that's on you."
"Cool. Okay. But also never call Sarah my 'mommy' ever again, even as a metaphor. Thanks."
Casey smirked. But Chuck was too lost in his thoughts to notice.
Tell Sarah? There were so many reasons why he needed to tell her, why he needed to be up front.
And he wanted her to know why he was going to do this. He wanted her to know that she was part of the reason. Maybe she was actually a large part of the reason. Yes, he wanted to help people and stop bad guys, but the thought of getting to do it at Sarah's side currently felt more important than anything else.
This might be his chance to look her in the eye and they'd know how one another felt.
He'd be in the NSA, not an asset. He'd be an agent, just like her. And if he worked hard enough, he'd be allowed to work alongside her instead of crouching behind boxes while she took all the fire.
She—and maybe Casey to a lesser degree—had shown him what it meant to be a spy.
At least, he had a good idea of what being a spy meant to her.
She'd had the chance to walk away from him multiple times now. She could've left him behind by now, letting him just deal with the consequences of whatever had happened on a mission or with his sister or his best friend all alone. But every single time, she chose not to do that. And in fact, she chose to go above and beyond what her role as his handler consisted of. It was her job to keep him alive, but she didn't stop there. She never forced him to handle the hardest bits by himself, or to have his panic attacks alone, suffer alone. She went out of her way to leave her door open to him. She stayed with him. She let him talk, even though one of the first things he learned about her was that she wasn't a talker at all. He could see how uncomfortable it made her, how raw and vulnerable she felt if she ever let him in, in even the smallest ways. And she did it. Because she wasn't just a good handler, she was a good person.
Maybe that was what being a spy would be for him. He'd infuse the job with his own life motto, his own moral compass.
But this was bigger than him. He was choosing something bigger than him, the way Casey had, and the way Sarah had.
General Beckman—someone he'd thought hated his guts, looked down on him, thought he was useless, a loser, a mistake—was taking a huge chance on him. And whether she really thought he was worthy, or if she was doing this because she was also a good person and couldn't justify letting him be tossed in a bunker after everything he'd done, she was giving him a choice. He didn't think he'd mind working for someone like her.
"So-So would you be, like, my...mentor? Will you be my mentor?" he rephrased. Since I'm...holy fuckshitfuck...I'm doing this. I'm really doing this." He let out a breath in disbelief and pushed both of his hands through his hair.
"Sorta. I guess. The most important thing is that you actually listen to me this time, and do what I tell you."
"Right, right. Of course. Yes. Sensei."
"First thing. Don't fuckin' call me that."
Chuck cleared his throat. "Right. Uh, noted."
"Let's start now." Chuck looked over at him. "Think of it as a trial run." Chuck nodded. "We need to find the marlin and that receiver."
"See, I knew it was a marlin." Casey glared at him. "Right, I have an idea where to start. Let's go to your place." Casey gave him a look, nodded, and hit the gas.
}o{
"Agent Walker, every last inch, nook, and cranny has been inspected. We think we've found all of the devices."
She turned from where she'd been staring thoughtfully off to the side, forcing her mind blank for just a moment of some damn peace, a sort of meditation tactic she'd learned early on in her career as an agent. "Thank you, Agent Farrell. Make sure everything is put back the way it belongs, as if we were never here. Oversee the rest of this operation and contact Director Graham about your findings when you're finished."
The other agent nodded and walked away. She checked her watch. She had almost half an hour before her shift at the Wienerlicious started and she needed to get some things done first.
She couldn't be here while she did that.
But before she could get started, her phone rang. Frowning in curiosity, she pulled it out of her pocket. It was an encrypted number, which made the hair stand up on the back of her neck as she answered it and brought it up to her ear. "Hello?" she asked, careful not to do her usual 'Walker, secure' routine she typically did.
"Agent Walker, I need an update on the scene at the Buy More."
It was General Beckman. But why was she using an encrypted number?
"Oh. General, y-yes. Um, of course. We found a total of twenty-nine bugs. The receiver…" She paused. She didn't want her superiors to know the receiver was currently still lost, and not even in the Buy More. And she must have paused too long because the general picked up on it.
"What is it, Agent Walker? Did something happen to the receiver?"
Damn, she was good.
"No, General Beckman. At least, I don't think so. It should be easy enough to pinpoint its location."
"It isn't in the Buy More, is it?"
Sarah silently cursed, clenching her jaw. "No, ma'am. It is not. But we've got some good agents who are on its trail as we speak."
"That isn't good enough, Agent Walker. The information on that receiver is incredibly dangerous. There is evidence of the Intersect's existence, highly secretive information the president of the United States doesn't even have. Whoever has access to that receiver will be privy to information that only Director Graham, myself, you, and Major Casey have access to. And Mr. Bartowski's identity is in grave danger. We need to get him to safety immediately."
"I-I agree, General Beckman. Without the receiver in our possession, Chuck's in grave danger, but—"
"But what, Agent Walker?"
"I believe Agent Casey and I are more than capable of keeping him safe. We'll have the location of the receiver soon enough and in the meantime—"
"No."
Sarah felt her blood run cold. "No?"
"Agent Walker, we think it might be time to extract Chuck."
Shit. No. Sarah froze mid step, a horrible feeling rocketing through her chest. "What?"
"There's a chance his identity has been compromised. We have to err on the side of caution."
"We don't actually know that he's in danger yet, General. You would take an innocent man and pull him away from his family, his life, everything he knows, to toss him in a bunker because—because we're erring on the side of caution?"
"To be blunt, Agent Walker…yes."
"This isn't sitting your top scorer on the bench the last few minutes of a semi-final so they don't end up injured for the final, ma'am. This is a man's life. This is about a human being's entire existence being...flipped on its head in the worst possible way. Simply because someone might hear his name on a receiver… And that isn't even to say they'd know what it even meant if they did hear his name." There was a long pause on the other side of the phone. Sarah didn't know what to make of that pause. Sarah continued. "You promised us we had forty-eight hours."
"You've made clear you aren't on board with Chuck being extracted, Agent Walker. That is noted. Director Graham has already put the order out for the asset to be found and brought back in where he'll be under twenty-four hour protective surveillance."
Sarah shut her eyes tightly and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I don't know where he is."
"He'll be easy enough to find. In the meantime, make sure we get that receiver."
Sarah pulled the phone away and hit end, just barely resisting the urge to slam it into the tile floor and stomp on it. There was a nearby standee of some Buy More employee who was modeling detergent. She calmly walked over to it, picked it up, and cracked it over her knee, snapping it in half.
She left the pieces on the ground and walked to the back, leaving a few agents gaping after her.
The CIA agent figured she still had some time. Chuck was with Casey at the moment, and Casey wasn't the type to roll over to follow an order if he didn't agree with it. She thought—she hoped—they were on the same page about Chuck not going into a bunker. Either way, his being there to protect Chuck while they searched for the marlin gave her some breathing room.
And that meant she could start to enact her plan.
She grabbed her bag out of the trunk of her Porsche, unzipping it and looking inside to make sure her Wienerlicious outfit was still there, and then she zipped it back up again, slammed the trunk shut, and walked to the employee entrance on the side of the building.
Her car was fast enough. Mexico was the best direction logically, and that was why Graham and Beckman would send agents to the border first thing to intercept the fugitive CIA agent and her asset. Driving north had less options as far as freeways. But if they went east, the possibilities were endless. Towards Utah, or towards Arizona? Somewhere in between? Could they get lost in the mountains of Colorado? She and Bryce had a mission in a town outside of Boulder once, and it had been a beautiful place—as much of it as she'd gotten to see around the actual job she'd had to do while she was there.
Once they hit one of the five billion national forests in Colorado, they could dye their hair, buy new clothes, and she could easily put together new identities. It could buy them some time until the threat of the receiver and Fulcrum was properly diminished.
This was supposed to be her last mission, wasn't it? And this would ensure it was her last mission. Once she knew it was safe to bring Chuck back, she'd either be arrested, or she'd be kicked out of the CIA. Most likely both.
And that was okay. Wasn't it? ...Shit. It had to be.
She pushed her way into the Wienerlicious break room and ducked into the bathroom to change. For now, she had to play like nothing was changed. Like she wasn't planning to kidnap a government asset, the carrier of the Intersect, the most important mind in the world at the moment, and take him into the mountains of Colorado to keep him out of a bunker.
She had to play like her insides weren't at risk of falling apart altogether.
There was no way she could let this happen to him. If she did, it would be the end of everything. Not just for him, but for everyone whose lives he touched. That included hers, but she was the least of her worries. Ellie, Awesome, Morgan… God, even the Buy More would just...fall apart, wouldn't it? The world needed Chuck Bartowski in it. It needed his light, his mind...his kindness. The faith he had in people, in everything. The last thing this crap world needed was for someone like him to be locked up in a God damn cave somewhere, cameras pointed at him at every moment of every day, his entire existence dwindled down to the Intersect and what he could do with it.
Fuck, she was scared. But she was determined, too. He wasn't ending up in a damn bunker. Over her dead body.
}o{
"Have you got facial technology on your computer?" Chuck asked, entering Casey's apartment. He gave a grunt. "Right, stupid question. So there's twenty-nine bugs, and that tells me they weren't all planted in one day." He began to type as he talked. "So, I can run the Buy More employees into the program to eliminate them, and then I have the program analyze the footage looking for someone who was in the Buy More on multiple days."
"What footage, moron?"
Chuck turned to him grinning. "Isn't that agent-in-training moron?" Casey glared at him. "So I've been thinking."
"Oh, God," Casey replied, looking up at the ceiling.
"Stop, just for a second, stop and hear me out." Casey nodded for him to go on. "I don't want to tell Sarah until we're sure this works." Casey's brow furrowed. "She's...she's Sarah, you know? If this doesn't work out...I don't want to start something that may get shut down, or, you know, if I fail as an agent."
"What's that gotta do with Walker?"
Chuck gave him a look. "Failure is bad enough. Failure in front of…" He huffed, not sure he knew how to finish that.
Casey rolled his eyes. "Kid, it's Walker. Anyway, I don't let my mentees fail."
"How many mentees have you had?" Casey looked like he hadn't expected the question. "Yeah. Uh huh. I thought so. Look, please, Casey. Please just for a little while, keep it under your hat. Please."
Casey looked at him for a minute, took a deep breath, and placed a hand on Chuck's shoulder. Chuck's eyes widened. "I guess I get it. I don't like it. I doesn't sit right with me and I think you owe it to her to tell her...but I get it. You aren't going to fail, Bartowski. You join the NSA, you start your training, and you and Walker...start...something," a pain look came over his face then, "God, this sucks." He shivered. "You and Walker start something… Well, kid, I hate to do this to ya, but you've failed more than a couple times since I was forced onto this mission, and she's still here."
Chuck glowered at him. "This would be a little bit bigger of a fail than the time we came back at three in the morning and I accidentally fell into the fountain I was so exhausted and wasn't looking where I was going."
The NSA agent full-on laughed, snorting. "Thanks for bringing that image back to me, moron. I'd almost forgotten. But yeah, if you think a big fail would scare 'er off… Well, obviously you haven't been payin' any attention. When Walker wants something, she gets it." He made a disgusted grunt then, shivering for the second time.
"That was a lot of lady feelings." The hand on Chuck's shoulder tightened and he grimaced. "Ah! Ah ah ah! Hurting the agent-in-training."
Casey removed his hand and Chuck turned back around to the screen. "It's simple really. The Buy More company policy is to keep security footage for ninety days. I'll hack in, get the footage, load it onto the facial recognition system, highlight the Buy More employees to be ignored, and we'll find your agent."
"How long will all that take?" Casey asked, with what Chuck swore was a bit of respect in his voice.
"It's done," Chuck said, glancing at him over his shoulder. "The computer has to do its thing now." He shrugged. "Don't know how long that will take, but the hard work's done."
Casey narrowed his eyes. Chuck swore he was trying to trip him up now. "What about the bearded gnome?"
Chuck grinned at him. "Sarah has taught me many things," he began. Casey had an amused smile on his face as Chuck narrowed his eyes at him. "One of the things is that if you can get someone else to do your work for you, do it." He pulled up his phone. "Watch this."
Casey leaned over his shoulder as he typed, "Hey, Morgs, I've got a huge problem. Awesome needs the ring for Ellie and he's really upset. I feel like I've let him down." Chuck hit send.
"You really don't think—" Casey began but Morgan's reply came back almost immediately.
"I might be able to help, but you can't get mad."
"I'll be damned," Casey grunted.
Chuck typed back. "Buddy, why would I get mad if you helped me?"
"Surely he won't—" Casey began but stopped again when Chuck's phone binged.
"It's in the Wienerlicious, in Big Mike's marlin."
"How the hell did he get it into the Wie—?" Casey began, but Chuck's phone binged again.
"Told Scooter I'd let him play the new Call of Duty if he helped me hide it in the freezer."
Chuck looked up at Casey. "Know your target. I know my target." Casey nodded. "I'll go get the ring and receiver. Bring it back here, or keep it with Sarah until this finishes running?" He nodded toward the computer. Casey had a speculative look on his face. "Agent-in-training, remember?"
"Go, before I change my damn mind," Casey grunted.
Chuck ran off. He had to get the receiver and the ring, and then...then there was a chance. A real chance. He wasn't sure he had ever been more hopeful.
}o{
Chuck walked into the Wienerlicious and froze. There, on the floor, broken, was the Marlin.
"No," he whispered.
They had to get the ring back, and the receiver. Chuck wasn't sure he would be allowed to stay in Burbank, NSA agent or not, if his identity was compromised. He started checking the remaining parts in case the ring and receiver were left behind by the vandal when he heard a distant call for help. He stood and ran toward the back, spotting Sarah trapped behind the fogged window of the freezer.
"Sarah?"
"Chuck, Lizzie's the mole!" she yelled through the glass. "She got the receiver!"
"It's over," he said softly. All of it was over. They would have his identity. Joining the NSA, his pipedream of working alongside Sarah as an agent. Or at least, that was what he'd have to make her think now. He couldn't tell her the truth just yet. And part of him hated himself for doing this, really hated himself. "They're gonna stick me in some tiny cell with no windows."
"Okay, Chuck, I need you to focus." He looked up at her. He needed to tell her. "We can stop Lizzie if you get me out of here," she continued.
"How? You're in the freezer, which is a special kind of hell for you because I know how much you don't like being cold."
"I keep a backup piece in the jar of horseradish sauce," Sarah explained.
"Horseradish?" He furrowed his brow, trying to understand that logic...that spy logic, also… "Who puts horseradish on hot dogs?"
"Chuck!" she snapped. His eyes widened. Sarah was cold. Screw him going to the bunker, she hated being cold.
"Got it. Right." It hit him as he rushed to find the horseradish. "Oooh, hide it someplace nobody would look—Good. Great. Okay." He opened the lid, and dumped it on the ground. He picked up the gun. "Oh! Whoa. I got it. Okay."
"Okay," Sarah began, "now shoot the lock."
Shoot the lock, right...wait… That was a very un-Chuck-like move. He had to be more…him.
"Um, look, Sarah, I've never really fired a gun before, okay?" He needed to spiral. He gulped, hoping it added to the cover he was trying to play. "And I've actually done this on purpose to avoid any unpleasant side effects like shooting myself or others."
Sarah stared at him threateningly, frightening him even though there was a lock door between them. "Just shoot the lock or I will shoot you when I get out of here!"
He knew she cared for him, but she really hated being cold. "Okay. Get back. Ready? Ready? Get back. One... Two…" He pulled the trigger and it clicked.
Her face appeared in the window again. "Take the safety off first," she nearly begged. She had to be so cold.
"One, one sec…" he said as he hit the button and watched the clip drop out of the gun. "Just a little problem." Chuck dropped down to grab the clip.
"Bartowski! I knew I'd find you here," Chuck heard behind him. Chuck turned and one of the earlier agents from inside the Buy More had a gun pointed at him. "Drop the gun, Bartowski! Now!"
Chuck dropped the gun. "No, no, no, no need to shoot. It's not my gun, it's not my gun." The agent bent down to get the gun. He almost told him about Sarah, that his cover girlfriend was in the freezer, but if he had a gun pulled on him, that meant he had to be FULCRUM. Chuck kept his mouth shut.
"Okay, let's go," the agent said, moving him out the door. "Come on, move."
"Okay, okay," Chuck said. He walked slowly out, trying to raise his voice so Sarah could hear. "You're taking this thing a little seriously. What kind of agent are you...FULCRUM?"
The agent never said a word. He walked Chuck outside and loaded him into the car before taking off.
Chuck sat quietly in the back and watched as the agent make a phone call. "I have the package, HQ, this is Longshore."
The flash started at the name. Chuck watched as Longshore's entire file filled his mind. Longshore was an extraction specialist. He always got his mark. Always.
"Well, you're not FULCRUM."
Longshore was silent for a moment, but he glanced in the rearview mirror and Chuck knew. Chuck knew Sarah and Casey would take care of Lizzie. If he didn't report in after a certain amount of time, Casey would try and contact him and Sarah. For now, he had to do what Freaked Out Chuck would do. Not that it would be hard, because he was freaked out. He had to trust Sarah and Casey in a way that made him…uncomfortable. The only people who didn't abandon him were family...and not necessarily blood family, but...family. He thought Sarah was part of that, but did she? He couldn't hold it against her if she didn't because he wasn't sure if she had ever experienced anything like his family. "So... this is it, huh? Going to get my own padded cell. Do I get a bed, or is my whole room kind of like a bed?"
Longshore looked uncomfortable for just a split second. "It's not as bad as it sounds. The underground complex where you will be living has state-of-the-art security and amenities. You'll even be allowed outside to visit controlled locations."
Chuck knew that body language. He had seen it a hundred times when Sarah was trying to hide something from him, when her mask slid up into place. It was as bad as it sounded, and Chuck knew his only hope came down to Sarah and Casey. That freaked him out. And then something struck him hard, right between the eyes. "Hold on. I-I... I can't leave without telling Ellie something, a reason for going. What should I say?"
He saw the mask slide on even tighter this time. Longshore knew he was never seeing sunlight again. This guy was CIA, which meant this had been Graham's order. Longshore finally spoke up. "Nothing. It's safer for them if you just... disappear."
Chuck sat back. He had to trust Casey and Sarah. At worst, Sarah would tell Ellie something that would protect all of them. God, he was going to miss his family.
}o{
Sarah was close to hypothermia when she finally heard a noise come from the front. "Help!" she yelled, hitting her ice cold fist against the door as best she could. Casey came around the corner, gun drawn. His eyes widened.
"Sarah! Stand back!" he barked. She jumped back and heard the report of the gun. She moved quickly, opening the door.
She walked out, fire running through her veins, warming her. It was time to kick someone's ass. "The delivery girl is the mole. And an agent took Chuck."
"Lizzie," Casey said, making Sarah turn to him. "Chuck figured it out," he said with a shrug. They were going to talk later. Something weird had been going on for a while now, and it felt like she was being left out. She punched a few buttons and Beckman and Graham rushed to get in place behind Beckman's desk.
"We've identified the enemy agent," Sarah said, taking charge. Casey stepped back. This was personal, and he had to know it. "She was posing as a Pita Parlor delivery girl. Code name Lizzie."
"So she escaped with the receiver?" Graham said. Sarah swore there was glee in his voice and something on Beckman's face flickered.
"Yes, but she made a phone call," Sarah informed them as calmly as she could. Her emotions were in turmoil. They were not taking Chuck. It was not up for discussion. "We're currently tracing the cell signature, and we can triangulate her location. We just need more time."
"As soon as you locate her, take her out," Graham replied.
"Uh, one of us needs to go and get Chuck away from a FULCRUM agent that was posing as part of the clean-up team at the Buy More."
"The Intersect is no longer your concern, Agent Walker," Graham explained. There was no doubt about the condescension in his voice.
"I... I don't understand," Sarah blurted out. What was going on? What were they doing? This was what she and Casey did. This was what the team did. It was the whole point of this operation.
"Agent Longshore is CIA," Graham replied with a barely restrained smirk. She heard Casey suck in his breath. They both knew Longshore was known as an extraction specialist. When someone had to get pulled out, he was the person that was sent. "Chuck is on his way to the extraction point right now." Sarah fought herself not to glare at Graham and for a second she swore she saw sympathy in Beckman's eyes. And then Sarah saw the NSA general and Casey lock eyes, and Beckman gave the tiniest of head nods. "Is there a problem?"
"Uh, no," Sarah replied, her head spinning. "No. I just thought I would handle his transfer."
"Forget about Chuck, Agent Walker. Focus on catching that FULCRUM agent," Graham ordered.
"We're on it," Casey said. The connection was terminated. "'We' meaning I go get Lizzie while you find Chuck." Sarah turned to him, confused beyond belief. "Walker, I don't have time to explain everything. Go, before I have to do all of it myself."
Sarah took off as fast as she could. She had to save Chuck. This wasn't for the CIA, or the NSA, or her. Even she didn't believe that last part.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review!
-SC and DC
