CHARMING'S AUTHORS NOTE #1: I'm back! Today is my 27th birthday, and in celebration of that, i'm going to share what might be my finest work. I guess you'll be the judge of that. Anyway, this story is a bold one from me, a new dedication to a darker, more serious tone. This is easily my most violent story that i've ever written, but it isn't' gratuitous. This story did not begin life as a character study when I began writing it in July. I finished the first draft of it months later, about two weeks ago to be exact. After that i've kept poking at it, revising it. All I know is that Nev enjoyed it, so i'm taking that as a vote of confidence!
CHARMING'S AUTHORS NOTE #2: This story was beta'd by nevr, who's just awesome. If you haven't read his story Linked, then you need to do that (after you finish here of course.) XD
The Enforcer
A Story by
CharmingCharles2896
Paris, France
April 6th, 2005
8:42 PM
Langston Graham was a cold and calculating man, hyper aware of the strengths and weaknesses of those around him. He went to great lengths to surround himself with fragile, broken people. Graham sought out people who were easy to manipulate, easy to bend to his will. Langston Graham plucked little Samantha Lisa Wilson out of a life of crime, given her a makeover, and molded her into the perfect spy, Agent Walker. Agent Walker was nothing like Sam Wilson, Where Sam was a positive and carefree girl, Agent Walker was cold, detached, laser-focused on the mission. Sam Wilson hated hurting people, feeling bad whenever she stole from people for her father. Agent Walker made a career out of hurting people. She was trained in the art of destruction; moral, physical, emotional destruction. Langston Graham had found the perfect weapon to advance his career and catapult himself into the top echelon of the American Intelligence Community.
For many years, Langston Graham used Agent Walker, agent of the CIA, as a tool to do what had to be done. He threw all manner of assignments at his latest pupil, all except red assignments. The insidious man knew that the time had to be right before such assignments could be undertaken. He waited until he thought she was ready, waited until enough of Sam Wilson was buried and destroyed before giving his latest pupil her Red Test, the gateway to the top tier of all CIA agents. Agent Walker, the coldest, most ruthless of Langston Graham's agents had reservations at first, unsure if she could go through with taking a life. He'd reminded her of the greater good, the only good left in her life.
It was cold and rainy that night, weather perfectly fitting the assignment at hand. Agent Walker, Langston Graham's star pupil, had been given a street, a time, and a photo of her target. She'd been given no explanation of why she was being ordered to snuff out this human's life, she was just expected to do so. With shaky hands, she'd arrived at the spot and waited. The wait felt like an eternity before her target arrived. As Agent Walker watched her target walk carefree down the street, she couldn't help but admire this woman's beauty. The ring on her finger was clear to see, evidence that this woman had people that loved her.
Agent Walker hesitated, unable to do it. In that moment, the last vestiges of Samantha Wilson fought to stay in the sun. In that moment, Samantha Wilson fought with every ounce of strength she could muster. Little Samantha fought to survive; fought to keep what little innocence she had left. A glint in a mirror; a one second glint was all it took to get Agent Walker's hackles up. Was her target going for a gun? Had she merely dropped something? With no time to think, Agent Walker spun and fired her weapon. With a thunderous crack, a life was extinguished. With one pull of the trigger, one turn on the trail, little Samantha Wilson was lost, destroyed, buried so deep inside Agent Walker that nobody would ever see her again. In that moment, as Agent Walker escaped into the night, the Enforcer was born.
~X~
Maison23, Room 832
Burbank, California
April 4th, 2009
12:30 PM
Much to her horror, Agent Walker had emotions. She knew she had emotions, in spite of what Graham wished. She'd felt more emotion in the last year than in her previous ten combined. Charles Irving "Chuck" Bartowski made her feel things, made her want things. The things that Agent Walker thought about these days were things that a hardened CIA agent couldn't afford to think about. She liked Chuck Bartowski, more than any other person she'd ever met. The curly-haired nerd from Burbank California made Agent Walker, the cold-hearted killer feel all gooey inside. The armor that Agent Walker had built up over the last four years, to shield her heart was quickly falling by the wayside as she spent more time around him. Agent Walker was known as a cold, calculating killer. The things that Agent Walker wanted these days were things that no CIA agent could ever really have. A part of Agent Walker secretly thought about having a house, a marriage, a few kids, maybe even a dog. Agent Walker was facing a crisis of conscience, if she stayed around Chuck Bartowski much longer, she'd cease to exist. If Agent Walker didn't get away from this man and his family, an untold number of horrible memories would come back to the surface to haunt the girl inside of her. If Agent Walker seized to exist, who would be there to keep little Samantha Wilson safe from the horrors inhabiting her memeory?
Agent Walker had welcomed the 49B, welcomed the chance to escape the clutches of Chuck Bartowski and return to her dark, shadowy world where she didn't have to feel. The thing is, if Agent Walker wanted the 49B so badly, why was a part of her so relieved when General Beckman had overturned the 49B's findings? Just yesterday, Agent Walker had been moments away from finally escaping Burbank. Then, a part of her buried so deep she'd almost forgotten about completely, came back to the surface shouting no! She'd gone by many names over the years; but now days, this other voice, this previously forgotten voice went by the name Sarah Walker.
Sarah Walker was a real live girl, with emotions, wants, and desires. Above all, Sarah Walker wanted a life with Chuck Bartowski. For years, she'd sat in an emotional prison deep inside Agent Walker's harsh stone walls, but over the last year, a shining beacon of goodness had bashed through those walls and carried that real girl back to the surface. Sarah had fought herself at first, the two parts of her warring over control of Sarah Walker. As time went on and Sarah spent more time with Chuck Bartowski, the pull of Agent Walker grew less and less. As time passed, the desire to return to the safe, comforting simplicity of Agent Walker faded away to nothing.
The 49B had been an extremely stressful ordeal for Sarah Walker. For a few days, Agent Walker had fought back to the surface, warring with Sarah for control. The battle was fierce, one last fight to turn the tide. Sarah was convinced that she'd never again have the chance to see someone she cared for deeply. In those lonely moments away from Chuck, Agent Walker fought the fight to regain control. The fact that Brigadier General Diane Beckman of the NSA, someone that Agent Walker had admired for years, had been the one to target her was very hurtful. Beckman had tried to take Chuck away from Sarah, something that Sarah would struggle to forgive. In the end, Sarah fought back the pull of Agent Walker and saved the man she cared for so strongly. Chuck had nearly died because of that incompetent slut, Alex Forrest. Beckman in her infinite wisdom, decided to replace the best CIA agent in the company's history, with an abusive, egotistical, bimbo.
As Sarah Walker had lain down to rest on that first night after the 49B, the entire ordeal now in the rearview mirror, the feelings she felt were stronger than ever. The events of the 49B had felt like the last stand of Langston Graham's Enforcer. As a few days passed and things settled down, Sarah would come to learn that the Enforcer was still there, waiting for her chance to return again.
Sarah had just sat down on her couch to unwind after a long, monotonous day serving frozen yogurt. She had reports to write from the previous week, so with laptop on her lap, Sarah had set about finishing her work. The knock on her door was unexpected and instantly had Sarah on guard. Setting her laptop down, Sarah grabbed her pistol, the weighty instrument of death familiar to her. She approached her front door, her sidearm in hand. Sarah looked through the peep hole and was surprised by who she saw. General Beckman was standing there in plain clothes; even her hair was down. Sarah stowed her pistol quickly and unlocked the door. General Beckman saw Sarah open the door and saw the expected scowl on the blonde's face.
"General, what brings you all the way out here?" Sarah said, unnerved that her superior was standing at her door. Sarah studied the General for a moment, she seemed unsettled, off, nervous even.
"Hello, Agent Walker, may I come in and speak to you for a moment?" Sarah was struck by the lack of force in her superior's tone. It was unusual for someone as powerful as General Beckman to travel across the country, especially on short notice. Realizing that the General was waiting for a reply, Sarah quickly stepped aside.
"Absolutely, please come in," Sarah said, prompting the short, red-headed General, to cautiously enter. "I'd be remiss if I didn't tell you how much of a surprise this is. I didn't think the brass like you ever left Washington, these days," Sarah said as she watched her boss enter her hotel room. The General merely nodded, silently looking at the room that Sarah had called home for a little over a year.
"Can I get you something to drink? I'm afraid I don't have much more than Vitamin Water and a coffee maker," Sarah said with a hint of embarrassment.
"No, no, that's okay, I'm fine," Beckman said as she sat down on one end of the couch and motioned for Sarah to sit. After Sarah nervously sat down on the opposite end of the couch. "I just want to begin by saying that I am not here on official business, so we can drop the decorum that we'd normally uphold." Sarah simply nodded, seeing the conflict and nerves in Beckman's features, a truly disturbing site. General Beckman's demeanor was usually like iron, strong no matter what. It was obvious that something was bothering her in a serious way.
"There is no easy way to say this, so I'm going to just come out and say it," the General began. Sarah tensed, sure that some other horrible thing was about to happen. "I was wrong about you, Sarah," Beckman said as she looked down at her hands, nervously fiddling with her fingers. Sarah was stunned, never in a million lifetimes, would Sarah have expected something like that to come from the General's mouth. "The 49B was a mistake on my part and almost cost me the Intersect, not to mention Mr. Bartowski's life."
Sarah didn't know what to say to that, part of her wanted to say thank you, another part of her wanted to gloat about being right. In the end, Sarah said nothing and simply sat there as Beckman continued. "It is obvious now, that the success of the team is based on the closeness of the three of you." Sarah was now sweating, trembling internally. This admission was more than Sarah had ever thought was possible. Was the General really admitting that her relationship with Chuck was an asset?
"Why are you saying this, General?" Sarah asked quietly, afraid to know the reason for the General's change in attitude. Beckman looked up into Sarah's eyes and for the first time ever, Sarah Walker saw a human being instead of a commanding officer with a spine made of steel.
"I am not here as a General, Sarah, please call me Diane." Sarah nodded mutedly.
"Then why are you here?" Sarah asked. Diane looked away, blinking back tears, much to Sarah concern. "Diane, what's wrong?" Sarah asked tenderly, leaning forward to close the distance with her boss. In that moment, Sarah's ability to pick up on Diane's emotions surprised the often-stoic General. It would appear that Mr. Bartowski had a greater effect on the blonde than originally thought.
"I'm here as a mother," Diane said quietly, much to the shock of Sarah. Sarah's mind raced; everyone knew that Diane Beckman wasn't a woman who'd ever dabbled in relationships outside of the job.
"I thought you didn't do those kinds of relationships?" Sarah asked quietly, suddenly extremely worried. Diane Beckman had told herself that she wasn't going to break down. She'd gone over this conversation over and over and over on the journey to Burbank. She'd been determined, but seeing the concern from Sarah Walker, a woman that she'd been so wrong about, was just too much. Between smothered cries, Diane shook her head no.
"I have a daughter named Patricia, Patricia Roark, no relation to the tech billionaire. She is fourteen years old and is the light of my life. She has almost no connection to me these days in order to protect her. Her father and I have seen each other on and off for almost thirty years. I got pregnant back when I was still in the CIA. I knew I had to hide my pregnancy in order to protect the man that I love, so I took a leave of absence. I stayed away from the CIA until she was born and I was back to myself. After that I limited myself to three covert visits a year. Since then, we've developed a way to communicate with each other in secret." Sarah was floored, how could Beckman have possibly kept a child hidden for all these years?
"Last month, I got a message from her. In it, she told me that some kids at her school were harassing girls and inviting the girls to parties that these kids were throwing." Sarah swallowed, unsure where this was going. "Two days ago, I got a call from her father, apparently my daughter is dating some thug at her school. Her work ethic is slipping, her grades are tanking, and he suspects that she's mixed up in this boy's gang." Sarah's blood ran cold, if this girl was mixed up in the gang culture, then things were likely very grim.
"Not to sound disrespectful, but why are you telling me this?" Sarah asked carefully, hoping to refrain from insulting Diane. Sarah saw Diane give her a desperate look.
"I need your help, Sarah," Diane began. "She sent me a text this morning, we developed a form of coded message so that nobody but us would understand what we were saying to each other. She's never, ever sent me a text in plain English." Diane pulled out her phone and opened it, handing it to Sarah. Now in agent mode, Sarah looked down at the screen and read the text thread.
7:31 AM - Patricia: Jay made me have sex with him.
7:33 AM - Diane: He made you?
7:40 AM - Patricia: He won't let me leave; I'm scared.
7:42 AM - Diane: Are you in danger?
8:00 AM - Diane: Patricia?
8:30 AM - Diane: Sweetie, answer me.
Sarah burned with anger; a little girl was in danger. Diane saw the change in Sarah; the Enforcer had come to the surface once more. Agent Walker looked up at Diane, fury in her eyes. "Where is she?" Diane had heard about this, but she'd never seen it in person. Diane Beckman had never actually met the Enforcer up close and personal. As she was now learning, the Enforcer was indeed as terrifying to be around as was rumored.
"Take it easy, Sarah," Diane began. "I need you to understand what I'm asking of you." Agent Walker didn't relax, but she stayed quiet so Diane could continue. "She lives with her father in Santa Rosa. Based on what I've been able to find out, I'm mostly sure that this Jay person that Patricia mentioned, is Jayson Ortega, the son of Juan Carlos Ortega, a mid-level drug pusher for the El Vato gang." Agent Walker nodded and spoke.
"I'm assuming that you want me to go extract her?" Agent Walker asked Diane, who tearfully nodded. "That makes this more dangerous, if Patricia is there, then I'd have to go in and get her, which likely means shooting it out." Diane nodded, obviously aware of this fact.
"I really can't ask this of you after this last week, but I need someone I can trust to go save my baby girl. I need nobody to ever know that she's mine, Fulcrum would just love to go after her to get to me. If anything ever happened to her, I'd never be able to go on." Agent Walker could see Diane's desperation in her eyes when she spoke next. "If you go get her, I'll look the other way where you and Mr. Bartowski are concerned." Agent Walker pulled back in shock, unsure what that meant. Diane smiled at her reaction; she'd expected it.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Sarah said quickly, the Enforcer slipping away briefly. Diane smiled a small smile to herself, having expected this reaction.
"Don't try and lie to me, Sarah; everyone knows that you love that man." Sarah gulped, scared to speak.
"I don't love him; how could you think that? I… I…" Sarah's frantic attempt to refute Diane, actually made the oft-stoic General smile. Diane reached out and gave Sarah's hand a steadying squeeze.
"It's okay, Sarah, we all have our wants and desires; lord knows I can't criticize you with my past." Sarah eyed Diane wearily, unsure if she wanted to trust her. Diane saw the unease, the skepticism, and spoke quickly.
"Go get my daughter and her father, bring them back to this room and call me. When you call, say the word Geronimo, that's the code phrase for all is well. If you have complications, say the word Banzai. When you succeed, you'll never have to worry about a 49B again," Diane offered Sarah, who got that determined look in her eyes. In that moment, the Enforcer took full control of Sarah Walker, but for a different reason. Agent Walker stood up with a steely determination.
"Consider it done." Diane stood up and turned to leave. Before leaving, Diane pulled a small envelope out of the back pocket of her jeans and handed it to Agent Walker.
"Here's everything you'll need to know, Names, addresses, a picture of Patricia and her father, as well as ten-thousand dollars. Think of it as both compensation for your work as well as money to spend in case of emergencies." Agent Walker nodded and walked Diane to the door. As Diane left, she turned back to Agent Walker.
"Obviously this conversation never happened." Agent Walker nodded. "This will be off the books, so if anything happens, I won't be able to help you." Diane paused and looked down briefly to collect herself. "When you find her, tell my baby girl that her mother loves her very much." Agent Walker gave Diane a determined nod.
"Your daughter is going to be fine; I never fail a mission."
Looking into the steely, determined eyes of Agent Walker, Diane Beckman knew exactly what made the Enforcer the best agent in the CIA. "That I believe," she said to the blonde softly.
~X~
Santa Rosa, California
April 5th, 2009
1:23 PM
It was a long drive from Burbank to Santa Rosa, but it had given Agent Walker time to get back into that mindset of the ice-cold killer that she used to be. If Patricia was to have any chance of survival, Agent Walker needed to be ice cold and locked in on the job at hand. It had been over two years since she'd last done a mission off the books, the last one having been for Graham. To avoid distractions, Agent Walker had texted her asset that she had to leave town and to stick to Casey like glue. Chuck had asked where she was going, Agent Walker replied that it wasn't his business and to refrain from contacting her until she texted him again. It hadn't taken long to find this home that was the official listed home of Juan Carlos Ortega. The house was big, not overly lavish, but nice. The first thing that Agent Walker had noticed when observing the house was the lack of activity around it. If Jayson, or Jay as Patricia apparently called him, was a student at her high school, then it was logical to check around the school as well. At this time of day, school would be getting out soon. If Agent Walker wanted to be there when Jay walked out, then she needed to get going.
Agent Walker arrived at the school with mere minutes to spare. She sat in her Toyota Camry, a CIA rental, and looked through the pair of binoculars that she had quickly grabbed from Castle along with a handful of other items that she'd hoped she wouldn't need. Chief among those items was the three syringes of Naloxone, known commercially as Narcan. Agent Walker couldn't begin to describe how much she really didn't want an excuse to use the Narcan. If Agent Walker needed to use Narcan, then Patricia may not have much of a chance of survival. As Agent Walker watched all the students leave the school, she never saw Patricia, nor Jay for that matter. Eventually Agent Walker spotted a pair of Mexican boys, both with matching El Vato tattoos on their necks. Agent Walker watched them walk to a clapped out 1997 Ford Mustang with massive chrome spinners on it. The sound of obnoxiously thumping bass told her these boys were the ones to follow. Slipping the car into drive, Agent Walker began tailing the two boys.
These boys were so obviously tied up in the gang culture. She watched them make six separate stops around Santa Rosa, all to either deal drugs or dap up one associate or another. Eventually, Agent Walker trailed the boys to a run-down neighborhood which was no place for a teenage girl to be hanging out. By now the sun had begun to go down, the street lights coming on, showering the neighborhood in an uncomfortable orange glow. The car stopped in front of a very run-down house, one with two heavies standing out on the porch. This place was obviously a gang house, if the loud music and occasional screams was any indication. As Agent Walker watched the place from down the street, she saw many gang members come and go from the place. Eventually, Jayson Ortega walked out onto the porch, a blunt in his left hand. As Agent Walker looked at the kid, she saw his numerous tattoos, nicer clothes than the other gang members, and tall stature, all the ingredients for a little girl seeking attention from her parents to become infatuated. Jayson puffed on the blunt for several minutes before flicking it into the yard and going back inside. Knowing this was the place, Agent Walker started her car and drove away, she had prep to finish.
~X~
Santa Rosa, California
April 6th, 2009
3:23 AM
The streets were clear, most of the houses lights off. At this time of night, most people would have gone to bed, but not the house she was after. It wasn't lost on Agent Walker that it was the fourth anniversary of that night in Paris. Four years of blood, four years as the best of the best. Her reputation in the time had gone from Langston Graham's star pupil to an ice-cold enforcer that the man used when an obstacle was in his way. Agent Walker had done numerous missions of questionable morality, all in the name of the greater good, as defined by Langston Graham. It had been a little over a year since Agent Walker had really been able to come out and stretch her legs, the assignment in Burbank never requiring the level of violence that often accompanied Agent Walker in the field. Civilians weren't often prepared for the kind of violence that this life could force a person to encounter. Agent Walker herself had tallied fifty-seven kills in the last four years, more than most agents her age. As far as she knew, John Casey had tallied over one hundred kills in his twenty-plus year career, though that number may be significantly higher if the rumors were to be believed.
Agent Walker had watched the house for hours, hiding in the shadows of an abandoned lot just three houses down the road. She'd spent her time counting the number of people she'd seen come and go. As far as she could guess, she expected there to be at a minimum, twelve people in the house. She had yet to see a single woman enter or exit, but she could hear them, so she knew at least one was inside the one-story house. Considering her options, Agent Walker had formulated the best plan of attack that she could. Since she'd driven to Santa Rosa, Agent Walker had been able to pack the require gear that she'd need for the job at hand. Decked out in all black, her golden blonde locks covered by a black balaclava, only her eyes were visible to the world. With a full complement of body armor, helmet, NVG's, silenced M4 with Mk 18 Close Combat Receiver, and enough ammo to orbit Arnold Schwarzenegger, Agent Walker was as ready as she'd ever be. It had been over eighteen months since she'd had to bring this much equipment into the field for one assignment.
She'd approached the house from the street side, having parked a second car a block over for her escape. She'd stollen it from a dark alley, so she was pretty sure nobody was going to miss it. That car would be used to go back to her Toyota, which was parked in a garage a few miles away. She'd never operated on U.S. soil in this capacity, so she wasn't taking many chances and was doing all she could to elude discovery. Agent Walker knew the chances of this plan working were slim, but it was the best hand she could play given her lack of resources and backup. Agent Walker had been in tighter, more precarious situations before, but seldom had she been in a situation with stakes this high. As Agent Walker approached the house, she looked down the infrared optic she's grabbed from Castle for her weapon and saw the two heavies outside guarding the front door. This gang was obviously small time, considering both were asleep in chairs. As she approached, she dropped her SBR, the rifle hanging loosely on its sling. Grabbing the tranq pistol taken from the Castle armory, Agent Walker quickly shot both heavies with a dart, ensuring they'd be out for the duration. With that done, she turned her attention to the left side of the house, where the electrical meter was located.
Arriving at the meter, Agent Walker reached into her bag and pulled out a golf ball sized amount of C4 and placed it on the large cable connected to the electrical box. As she placed the wireless detonator in the plastic explosive, she slowly and silently made her way to the back of the house. Peering around the back of the house, Agent Walker saw no guards, the windows all featuring closed shades. These guys were total amateurs compared to the guys she'd encountered with the CATS back in the day. Knowing an opportunity when she saw one, Agent Walker pulled off another piece of plastic explosive and approached the rear door. The fact that this house lacked a sliding rear door was interesting, but served her well in this case. After pressing the explosives to the door, she stuck a wireless detonator to it and stepped back. As she grabbed a flashbang with her left hand, she pulled her NVGs into place with her right. With NVGs in place, she grabbed the detonator with her right hand, closing her eyes to shield them from the flash of the explosives.
"I hope you're in there, Kid," she muttered quietly and hit the button on the detonator. The sound of the explosives was loud in her ears, but she ignored it. The lights went out inside the house and Agent Walker snapped into action. With a vicious kick, the door gave way with minimal effort, unleashing Agent Walker on the poor souls waiting inside. As she walked in, she pulled the pin on the flash bang grenade and threw it deeper into the house. She saw the grenade bounce off a wall and disappear around a corner, which was followed by a second of screaming. The thunderous crack of the grenade silenced all in the house; that was when Agent Walker moved in. Entering the house, her NVGs gave her a decided advantage over the disoriented and ill-prepared gang members. As soon as she entered the house, the Enforcer went to work. She saw she was in the kitchen; two black girls obviously having been making some kind of drugs on the stove. The girls were on the floor, screaming in terror. Agent Walker moved on, knowing she had bigger fish to fry. Agent Walker tossed her bag onto the kitchen table and moved into the house to do her work. As she rounded the corner to her left into a hallway, she spotted a group of five men, all of them on their knees from the flash bang grenade. Without a second thought, Agent Walker dispatched them all with minimal effort. One shot in the body, one in the head, two shots each is all it took to send all five of them to the afterlife. Swinging around to face the living room, which sat across the hallway from the kitchen, she saw another trio of guys, guns in hand. All of them were trying to shake off the effects of the flashbang's loud crack. In a flash, they were dead, one shot to the head for each of them all it took for the blonde-haired harbinger of death.
"Patricia Roark!" Agent Walker called as she scanned the room, seeing no further movement. The muffled call of a girl down the hall grabbed her attention. Turning around, she moved back towards the hallway she'd previously looked down and moved into it. Without a second look, Agent Walker stepping over the five corpses as she moved like a silent and deadly predator.
"Quiet!" came a different voice at the end of the hall. There were three rooms connected to this hallway, two on the right and one down at the end of the hall on the left. As she approached the first door on the right, she tapped it open with the end of her boot, making sure to stand clear of it. Sure enough, a shot rang out and the sound of a bullet impacting wood filled her ears. Dropping to the ground, Agent Walker moved away from the door, barely missing a trio of shots that blasted holes in the drywall. Quickly, Agent Walker returned fire, sending a dozen or more shots back towards the source of the incoming fire. With a tremendous thud, the shooting fell silent. Looking towards the door again, Agent Walker stood and trained her rifle on the door.
"Patricia Roark, if you're in there you better come out now," Agent Walker called.
"Go fuck yourself, Puta!" the man in the room called in reply. The voice sounded labored, signaling his being wounded. Not having the patience for this crap, Agent Walker pulled a frag grenade off of her belt and pulled the pin, tossing it into the room as she ran back towards the kitchen. The sound of a man screaming in spanish was quickly drowned out by an explosion as the walls bowed and eventually exploded out from the force of the blast, showering the hallway in fire.
As Agent Walker stood once more, looking back down the hall again, she saw that she'd just blown up the bathroom. As she moved closer, she saw that her grenade had also taken out the wall leading to the room at the end of the hall on the right. She could see inside it and could see a pile of mangled bodies, obviously having been caught by debris and shrapnel from the grenade.
"Oh Christ," she muttered, a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. Agent Walker moved down the hallway. Passing the bathroom, glanced inside finding nothing left of the man who'd shot at her, just a splatter of blood on the wall. Refocusing, Agent Walker walked to the end of the hallway. the door on the left was closed still, so she turned her attention to the right door and kicked in it. As the door opened, she saw two men and a woman on a large bed. The woman was on top of one of the men with the other on top of her. The state of undress of the three of them suggest amorous activity had taken place. Why they didn't care that there was explosions and gunfire outside, she didn't know. Maybe the three of them were high? Regardless, Agent Walker had to know who the woman was. She pushed one man off of the woman, seeing a dead black girl laying there, her body littered with wounds. The scars in her arms signaled that she was likely a hooker or junkie, someone looking for a fix to be sure. Beneath the woman was another man, his face largely gone from the shrapnel. The hint of guilt began to creep into the back of Agent Walker's mind as she observed the carnage before her.
She'd done a lot of killing over the years, but the death of an innocent was something she never accepted. Knowing she had a job to finish, Agent Walker flushed that out of her mind and turned her attention to the bleeding man she'd moved moments before. Apparently, he'd survived, unlike his two companions. The quiet thud of two shots filled the air as she fired one into his back and another into his head, killing him. With the room now secured, Agent Walker turned her attention to the last room left for her to search.
As she stepped out into the hallway, the sound of a girl's cries, soft and filled with terror, told Agent Walker that hope persisted. Quickly reloading her rifle, Agent Walker closed the distance with this final room. Maybe this wasn't a bust and she'd get a happyish ending out of this mess. Agent Walker pressed against the wall to the left of the final door, pausing to take a breath for a beat. Now ready, she knocked with the stock of her SBR.
"Patricia, are you in there?" Agent Walker called softly. All she heard in reply was the terrified mutterings of a girl.
"Shut the fuck up!" came the quiet voice of a male, also filled with fear.
"If she's in there, you better let her come out here or I'm coming in to get her," Agent Walker called, checking her equipment.
"Fuck you, Pig!" came the voice, though the expected gunfire never followed. Agent Walker shook her head.
"They never take the easy path, always the one filled with blood and violence," she mused, grasping her SBR tight. Agent Walker stepped forward and turned to face the door. Never missing a beat, Agent Walker kicked the door in, the door breaking off its hinges. A girl screamed as Agent Walker entered the room. As the Enforcer looked around, she saw a scared teenage girl, cowering in the corner. Looking to her left, Agent Walker saw a tall, teenage boy hiding in the tiny closet. He wasn't doing a good job of hiding since she could plainly see him. She pointed her gun at the boy and spoke with a commanding voice.
"Come out here with your hands up." The boy did as she ordered, the fear in his eyes so clearly apparent. As Agent Walker finally laid eyes on the boy before her, she saw that it was none other than Jayson Ortega, the wannabe tough guy. Agent Walker looked at the girl and spoke. "Patricia, look at me." The teenage girl looked up at her and even through her NVGs, Agent Walker could see that it was Patricia. Her makeup was rather trashy looking as was her trashy clothing. Patricia was wearing a lewdly short pair of booty shorts and a crop top, stuff that no fourteen-year-old girl should wear.
"Did this man hurt you in any way?" Agent Walker asked the Patricia who nodded quickly. "Just look away," Agent Walker said to Patricia calmly before she turned her attention back to Jayson. She could see the fear in the boy's eyes, the fear of death.
"So, you think it's fun to hold little girls here against their will, huh? You find raping little girls to be fun? Does it make you feel like a big, strong man?" Agent Walker asked intensely to the scared little boy. She flipped the flashlight on her rifle and grabbed Jayson, dragging him by his shirt from the room. "You act like a tough guy because your daddy is a big-time gangster. You want to be just like him, want to be a killer like him, don't you?" The blonde assassin growled as she dragged Jayson into the hallway. AS Agent Walker's flashlight illuminated the hallway, the trail of destruction became clear. Jayson at long last saw the carnage and death that Agent Walker had rained down upon his life. In that moment, Jayson began to shake, fear consuming him.
Agent Walker spun Jayson around and threw him against a wall, the barrel of her rifle now pressed into his chest as her left hand pushed up her NVGs. As Jayson saw the fire in this woman's blue eyes, he regretted every decision he'd ever made in life.
"You act like being a killer is so cool. People like you act like this life is all that. You don't know what death is. You don't know what taking a life means! You may rule this little world of yours's but there is always a bigger fish out there who will burn your world down in a heartbeat. Tonight, you just met the biggest fucking fish there ever was, and that fish decided to let you live." Jayson was practically hyper ventilating as Agent Walker continued to scream at him. "Now, are you going to change your ways?" Jayson nodded frantically. "Good, because if you so much as breathe a word about this, I will kill you and everyone you care about. Now look me in the eyes and tell me if you believe me?" Once again, the scared boy nodded.
"I was never here; you never saw me. If I feel any heat on me, or Patricia for that matter, I'll come back and fuck your life up, understand!?" she screamed at him. As he nodded, she saw the growing wet spot on the front of his pants. Agent Walker smirked under her balaclava as she saw the fear in this punk. Agent Walker dropped her SBR and grabbed her tranq pistol, aiming it at Jayson's chest.
"Say goodbye, Jay," she said mockingly.
His head shook frantically as he spoke, "Please, have mercy!" The hiss of the tranq pistol rang out and the boy collapsed onto the ground.
"Sleep tight, you pussy," she growled as she holstered her tranq pistol, flipped her NVG's back down over her eyes, and returned to the room. Agent Walker quickly spotted the trembling little girl, once again cowering on the floor against the wall, the bed separating her from the door.
"Come on, let's get you out of here," Agent Walker said as she extended her hand towards Patricia, who merely shook her head no and tried to back further from the imposing figure towering over her. The blonde CIA agent shook her head, knowing that she'd scared the girl to death.
As Agent Walker bent down, she took her helmet and balaclava off and let her blonde hair fall around her face flatteringly. Detaching her flashlight from her SBR, she shined it at the ceiling, illuminating the room. "It's going to be okay, Patricia, your mother sent me here to extract you." At the mention of her mother, Patricia looked up at Agent Walker, which was the moment where the spy saw the similarities between Patricia and her mother. The intense brown eyes, the intelligence, it was all there. Agent Walker nodded and spoke. "Your mother has powerful friends. When she knew that you were in trouble, she called the best person she knew of, to go get her little girl." Patricia pointed at Agent Walker, who nodded. Standing up, she extended her hand, which Patricia took, standing up on unsteady legs. As they got to the doorway, Agent Walker reattached her flashlight to her weapon, put her helmet and balaclava back on, and turned to Patricia stopping her from leaving the room. Agent Walker knew what Patricia was about to see was too much for even the hardest of agents, let alone a fourteen-year-old girl, so she spoke.
"Before we step out there, I need you to promise me to close your eyes and keep them closed until I tell you," Agent Walker said with as calmly insistent a voice as she could muster. Patricia nodded quickly, making the blonde smile. "Okay, just hold onto the back of my vest and keep those eyes closed, okay?" Agent Walker commanded as she spun around to face the doorway. Patricia grabbed onto her vest, holding tightly onto the edges of the arm holes.
"I'm ready," Patricia said, the first time Agent Walker had heard Patricia's voice. With that confirmation, Agent Walker flipped her NVG's down over her eyes and led the two of them out of the bedroom and down the hall, Patricia only stumbling once. As they stepped into the kitchen, the sound of sirens could be heard in the distance. The two girls who'd been in the kitchen previously had by now fled. Agent Walker removed her rifle, setting it on the table and grabbed the bag she'd thrown onto the table. The flashlight on the end of her rifle illuminated the kitchen enough for her to see without her NVG's so she once again removed them. Moving quickly, Agent Walker unzipped it and pulled out a blue coat and a red baseball cap.
"You can open your eyes, just look at me," Agent Walker said to Patricia who did as instructed. Agent Walker handed Patricia the items that she'd pulled from the bag and spoke. "Put these on and don't take them off til' I tell you," she said to Patricia who took the items and put it on without question. Agent Walker removed her helmet and balaclava placing both in the bag. Next, she stashed her rifle in the large duffle bag, along with the belt holding her extra ammo, and her vest. Reaching into the duffle bag, Agent Walker pulled out a long trench coat, slinging it onto her body quickly, in a flurry of motion. After the coat was in place, Agent Walker grabbed a blue ball cap and did her best to wrangle her wild, blonde hair. With her disguise in place, Agent Walker made sure her tranq pistol and normal pistol were still in their respective holsters on each leg and turned to Patricia. She gave Patricia a reassuring smile and zipped the bag closed, slinging the heavy duffle over her left shoulder. Reaching out, Agent Walker grabbed Patricia's hand and spoke confidently.
"It's going to be okay; I've had to escape tighter situations than this, we're going to be fine." Patricia nodded and followed Agent Walker out of the house and to the fence at the back of the yard. The CIA agent helped Patricia over the fence and then tossed the duffle over, following behind quickly. Agent Walker landed more gracefully than Patricia had, made sure the girl was alright and collected the bag. Now sure that Patricia was fine, Agent Walker and Patricia quietly snuck through the backyard of the house they'd just come upon. The lights were one, so Patricia followed all of her rescuer's instructions to the tee. Once they were on the street, the two of them made their way another block over and came upon Agent Walker's escape car. She still couldn't believe she'd pulled this farce off as well as she had so far. A mission with very little intelligence, minimal prep time, and zero support, talk about long odds!
As the two of them got to the road, Agent Walker looked over at Patricia. She could see the poor girl trembling, her body no doubt filled with adrenaline. Patricia was so scared, understandable considering what she'd been through. As the two of them settled into the drive out of Santa Rosa, Agent Walker focused her mind on the plan she'd devised over the last two days. The first thing to do was go and collect Patricia's father and get them both out of town before the Vatos sought out revenge. She knew that the tranq darts bought her at least five hours to get to Patricia's father and get them both the hell out of town. Looking over at Patricia, Agent Walker knew this was the time to get Patricia's mind off of what she'd been through.
"Be honest with me, what is your mother like? I know her from work, so I'm curious," Agent Walker asked the teenager.
"She's great, she wants to be with us more than anything, but she has to stay away to keep us safe. I don't see her nearly as much as I would like, but it's always great when we're all together like a real family," Patricia said, with affinity clear in her tone. Agent Walker merely huffed in surprise as Patricia Roark when on and on, regaling her with countless childhood stories.
~X~
Maison23
Burbank, California
Monday, April 6th, 2009
2:36 PM
Father and daughter had both been very quiet on the drive all the way back to Burbank. It had been a struggle at first to convince Mr. Roark to pack up his things and leave his house forever. Mr. Roark didn't grasp the situation he was in until Agent Walker removed the trench coat and Mr. Roark saw the blood spatters all over her pants and boots. When she'd calmly explained that his daughter had been mixed up in a local gang and she'd just killed twelve gangbangers to extract Patricia, he finally understood the world he was now living in. Agent Walker explained her exit strategy and told them exactly what to pack and what not to pack. Any medications they needed had to have the names removed. No I.D.'s could be taken with them, no electronics, nothing that could be tied to them. Patricia had been emotional at first, but some good parenting from Mr. Roark had quickly diffused the situation.
Several hours of driving later, Agent Walker was starting to sag in her seat. She'd been awake for some twenty-nine straight hours, so the day's events were beginning to catch up with her. Agent Walker pulled the Toyota into the Maison23 parking lot and parked in a guest spot. As the car pulled to a stop, Patricia roused from her long sleep in the back seat, the teenager looking around in confusion.
"Daddy, where are we?" Patricia said, her words belying the impression of maturity that her whorish clothes tried to give off the night before. Mr. Roark looked around, he himself unsure of exactly where he was. As Roark looked up at the tall building, his mind could only think of one thing.
"You're putting us in a hotel room? What city are we in?" Agent Walker turned the car off and opened the door, as she went to get out, she stopped and turned back to look at him.
"We're in Burbank, this is my personal residence at the moment. Now, let's get your stuff and get you two into my room before we say anything else." Mr. Roark nodded and the three of them exited the sedan. As the three of them grabbed the bags, none of them said a word. Agent Walker in black clothes, bloody combat boots, and a trench coat over it all was certainly a look, but nobody seemed to notice. As they rode the elevator to the 8th floor, Agent Walker noticed Patricia fidgeting where she stood. Roark looked down at Patricia, who was going to be taller than he was in a few years. Roark laid a comforting hand on the small of her back, the teenager calming quickly. Agent Walker gave the two of them a small smile as the elevator dinged. Agent Walker held up a hand and drew her pistol, peeking both ways out of the elevator.
Seeing that the coast was clear, the blonde waved them out of the elevator and the three of them silently moved down the hallways. "Take a right up ahead," she whispered as they moved down the hallway. As they all arrived at room 832, Agent Walker saw a small vase of gardenias and a note sitting there waiting for her. In that moment, Agent Walker began to slip into the background, the flowers bringing a genuine smile to Sarah's face as she picked up the note and flipped it open, smiling at the familiar handwriting.
I don't know where you had to go on your own, but I'll always be here to support you. - Chuck
Sarah smiled to herself, leave it to Chuck to be so sweet. Sarah picked up the vase of flowers and opened the door. After the door had opened, Agent Walker did a quick sweep for bugs and then sighed in relief, she'd made it, mission accomplished. "We're secure in here, so you can talk," Sarah said as she felt a tremendous weight lift from her shoulders. Noticing the boredom on Patricia's facial features, Sarah spoke. "If you want, Patricia, you can turn on the TV, I don't know what channels I have, but you're welcome to it." Patricia smiled gratefully and took off for the TV. Noticing the confusion and mild annoyance on Roark's face, Sarah spoke to him "What's on your mind, you look troubled?" she asked as she came up beside him, the two of them watching Patricia take over the couch.
"I noticed only the one bedroom; I was just wondering what happens now?" Sarah gave Roark an easy smile and clapped him on the back.
"Don't worry, Mr. Roark, all I've got to do is make a phone call and then my work here is done." Roark nodded, telling himself to relax internally.
"Call me, Robert." Sarah nodded, giving Robert a smile.
"Then no more Agent Walker, call me Sarah," the blonde replied as she pulled out her phone and dialed Beckman. The phone picked up quickly and General Beckman's voice filled the other end of the call.
"What's the word?" Beckman asked, her voice anxious.
With a bright smile, Sarah spoke into the phone. "Geronimo." The gasp and sigh of relief that Sarah heard from Beckman was shocking only because it came from Beckman, further proof that the General had a heart.
"I'm still in town, I'll be there in fifteen," Beckman said before hanging up. Sarah heard the call end and simply set her phone down on the counter top in her small kitchen area that actually wasn't much of a kitchen. With this all winding down, the weight of the last three days began to set in. Between the lack of sleep, the shootout she'd been in, and the need to be in agent mode nonstop for so long, Sarah was exhausted. With everything set and nothing else left for Sarah to deal with, she walked over to the couch and sat down with a huge huff. Patricia looked at her out of the corner of her vision, but Sarah paid her no mind as her entire form seemed to sink into the couch in one massive, exquisite catharsis. As Sarah's eyes drooped and closed, she heard the faint murmurs of the father and daughter that she'd extracted. She wasn't listening to them, their words fading into the background as she fell asleep at long last.
~X~
The sound of a quick knock at the door pulled Sarah from her slumber in a flash. Now sitting up as straight as an arrow, Sarah's sleepy mind scanned the room. Seeing the confused looks from Robert and Patricia, Sarah's sleepy mind struggled to understand what was happening. Robert stood up from his chair, obvious making for the door as a second urgent knock sounded through the room. As Robert reached for the door knob, Sarah's mind finally caught up.
"Wait!" Sarah said as she stood up, closing the distance in a flash. "Let me get it, I'm supposed to be keeping you safe." Robert nodded and stepped back as Sarah reached for the knob and grasped it. Looking over her shoulder at Robert, Sarah spoke in a tone that left no room for discussion. "Go sit with Patricia." Robert nodded and walked to his daughter, sitting with her. Now that her charges were away from the door, Sarah drew her pistol and opened the door, but only as far as the chain would allow. Sarah peered through the gap, quickly seeing General Beckman. Sarah quickly closed the door, unlocked the chain, and opened the door all the way.
"General," Sarah said, stowing her pistol in the holster still attached to her leg. She'd yet to change her clothes, not wanting to do so until she knew that they were truly out of the woods.
"It's Diane, Sarah, this isn't official business," Diane said with a small smile, seeing the nod in recognition from Sarah.
"They're here, safe and sound, just as you asked. I recommend WITSEC be brought in on this. There is likely a lot of heat on them right now," Sarah said quietly as she looked over her shoulder at the family in her hotel room.
"Yeah, your little raid is all over the news," Diane said quietly, her body language nervous, her eyes continually darting to the glimpses of the people she loved. Sarah noticed Diane urgent eyes and quickly stepped aside, allowing the imposing General to briskly walk into the room and go to her loved ones. Patricia was the first one to see Diane, rising to her feet in a flash.
"Mom!" Patricia said as she ran to her mother and hugged her. As the reunion too place, Sarah walked off to her bedroom to change, finally able to do so.
"Oh, my baby; are you okay? You scared me to death," Diane asked as she looked her daughter over. Patricia nodded quickly, her eyes looking towards Sarah's bedroom, the door of which was closed as Sarah no doubt changed her clothes.
"She saved me, it was so scary," Patricia said quietly, remembering the maelstrom of chaos and noise that she'd been in the middle of the night before.
Diane gave her daughter a loving smile and nodded as she spoke, "When you texted me, I knew I needed the best of the best to help you. So, I got on a plane and flew all the way across the country to ask for her help."
Sarah exited her bedroom, now changed into some fresh clothes, her pistol returned to its normal resting place in the small of her back. As she exited her room, she heard the words of Diane.
"She's really the best?" Patricia asked, her eyes darting to Sarah. Diane looked over her shoulder at Sarah and spoke.
"There is nobody on this planet I'd trust to keep my family safe, more that her." The appreciative smile on Diane's face touched Sarah, who silently nodded as she leaned on the doorframe leading to her bedroom. Knowing this was a family moment, Sarah slipped on some shoes, gathered up the keys to her Porsche, grabbed her purse, and made for the door.
"Where are you going?" Diane asked. Sarah paused, thinking how best to answer that question.
"While you see to your family, I'm going to go see to mine," Sarah said with a wink as she left her hotel room. As Sarah turned to leave, she heard Diane's voice.
"Off the record, it's about damn time!" Sarah just smiled, her head shaking from side to side in amusement. Sarah walked down the hallway, exhausted mentally and physically, but at the same time tremendously fulfilled. In all of Sarah Walker's years, this may have been the one thing she'd done that rose above all the rest as a testament to humanity. A woman Sarah had always known as tough and by the book had come to her in her hour of need. That woman, more mother than General, had offered Sarah a deal that would have otherwise been unthinkable, impossible even. In that moment, a mother reached out and asked for help, to which Sarah answered the call. In that moment, Sarah had called upon the Enforcer to do something righteous and good for once. In a rare moment, Sarah Walker and Agent Walker were in lock step, both knowing what had to be done to make right what was so wrong.
In this moment, after the storm had passed, Sarah Walker and the many facets of her personality, were all at peace. Maybe for the first time ever; Agent Walker, Langston Graham's Enforcer, was at peace. For once, there was no reason for the Enforcer to exist. Sarah Walker, for all of her complexity, was whole again. This truly was the last hurrah for the Enforcer, the blonde harbinger of death, a relic of the past, a past Sarah no longer wanted. Now, Sarah was on her way to the Buy More, to see her one true love. When she got there all would be real at last, all that had been left outstanding would at last be settled. For the first time in Sarah Walker's life, she was whole. For the first time in so many years, Sarah was home. For the first time in her life, she was free to love whom she wanted, in any way she saw fit.
Sarah knew that Robert and Patricia would be okay, Beckman would stick them in witness protection with a way to contact her. From then on, her family would truly be hidden, able to live their lives in peace. Tomorrow, things would be back to normal, Beckman back in Washington; Sarah, Casey, and Chuck working for her in the fight against Fulcrum. Tomorrow was a new day, the first day of the rest of Sarah Walker's life. Hopefully this would be the last time the Enforcer was asked to take action. With any luck, the Enforcer would simply fade away into legend. Maybe one day, people at the CIA would tell the story of the four years where the Enforcer was the best of the best in all of the CIA. If the Enforcer was what was required to be the best of the best, then Sarah Walker no longer cared about being the best.
As she parked her car in a space in the Buy More parking lot, Sarah looked over towards the large electronics store, the man of her dreams residing somewhere within. In that store was the new reason for her to live. For four long years, Agent Walker had stood vigilant to keep the horrors at bay, to protect that little girl that was seemingly lost so long ago. But now, as Sarah Walker approached the Buy More, she understood that she had another person in her life to help keep the horrors away in the night. It was time for Agent Walker to leave and let little Samantha Wilson run free once more. No longer would Agent Walker live for the next mission, never stopping, never giving her mind time to reflect on what she'd done. No more. From now on, Samantha Wilson, the little girl from San Diego California, was going to live her life to the fullest, unafraid of the things the Enforcer had done. She may have a new name and a different look, but as Sarah Walker passed through the front doors, she knew that little Samantha was going to be just fine in the loving, life giving presence of Chuck Bartowski.
She saw him instantly, in all his splendor and wonder. There was the man she loved more than life itself; curls everywhere, welcoming smile on his face. She could see him laughing and joking with his friends, so purely human. As she walked into the store, his eyes found her, the toothy smile reserved only for her appearing on his handsome face. Every step she took towards Chuck Bartowski felt like one step farther away from her past. Every step felt like one more foot of dirt burying the Enforcer for good. As her lips met his, the burial of Agent Walker was now complete. As the feeling of his loving embrace pulled her in close, Sarah Walker had one final thought pass through her head.
"Free at last, free at last, thank God almighty, we are free at last."
The End
CHARMING'S AUTHORS NOTE #3: Considering it's my birthday, i've been giving a lot of thought to what I want for my birthday and I think I've come up with the perfect birthday present! For my birthday, I want to come home to a very naked Yvonne Strahovski, eagerly waiting for me in my bed. What? So that's a firm no on the night with Yvonne? Well then I guess if all of you could leave me a review, that would be cool too. More seriously, whether good or bad, hearing from all of you is always a highlight for me.
Until Next Time :D