A/N: I know it's a couple of hours late compared to the usual posting schedule, but I was helping a friend with a project of his and it took a bit of time. Hopefully, what you're about to read was worth the wait.
As always, I'm floored by your reception of new chapters. Thank you all. You're awesome and it never gets old to say it.
Earlier the same morning, around dawn…
The team deployed in textbook formation as they approached the perimeter of the terrorists' camp through the jungle. They were making no noise that was discernible above nature's own background sounds. A signal from one of the scouts made them all pause. The team leader followed the scout's pointing hand and saw someone sitting on a rock outcropping at their eleven o'clock. A look through the state of the art night vision goggles confirmed it was a guard, who was apparently bored and trying to light a cigarette with a lighter that wasn't cooperating, his M16A1 assault rifle carelessly left on the ground at his side. The team leader turned to one of his people and gave instructions using hand signals. A figure, almost invisible in the camouflage uniform and face paint, like the rest of them, stealthily detached from the unit and a little later appeared behind the bored guard, having previously paused to scan the area and make sure there was no one else lurking behind the guard. The flat black paint on a knife's blade gleamed dully in what little moonlight filtered through the foliage towards the jungle floor before it was swiftly plunged into the man's throat. The guard died without even realizing it. The figure then signaled the rest of the team to move in on their objective.
Sarah shot upright, blinking rapidly to clear her vision of the cobwebs of sleep.
"Sarah? What's going on?" Chuck's raspy voice came from beside her.
"Nothing," she said, laying her head down on her boyfriend's chest.
"I can feel your heart beating like a death metal drummer, so it's probably not nothing. Spill."
"We're never watching war movies before going to bed again. Ever. I had a dream that could have only come from a movie." She proceeded to describe it to him, including the last few moments before waking up, when she'd glimpsed a reflection on a puddle of water… a reflection of a face with heavy camouflage makeup on – her face.
He already had an arm around her waist, so he ran his hand comfortingly up and down her back. "I sometimes have similar dreams after playing first person shooter games. Ellie says it's because I've fried my brain beyond repair."
She laughed. "Ellie is a smart woman and she loves you more than you can imagine. As another person who loves you, I can only side with her."
This actually registered with Chuck, who cocked his head to the side and gave her a pointed look. "You're not…?"
"Start pestering you about Stanford? I'm in total agreement with Ellie on this," she said. You need to get your firm, mouthwatering ass in gear and get the damn degree. You could have finished it already, but I get the feeling you like procrastinating too fucking much."
"Huh…"
"Huh what?"
"It's just… when we first met, you were all like 'oh man, I burned the darn muffins'. Now, you walk into a bar and ten minutes later sailors come running out."
"Really? I never noticed."
"It's true. You never used foul language before the incident with the escaped convict. After that… well, ask anyone. Ellie thinks it may be a coping mechanism."
She was about to reply, but yawned widely instead. A look at the clock on the nightstand confirmed it was too early. "I don't care what it is. I'm going back to sleep and I suggest you do the same. We stayed up late, plus we have a long drive and a busy day ahead of us." She pulled the covers over them both, found a comfortable position and promptly fell back asleep. Chuck followed suit moments later.
-o-
Back in a secure office at the DNI building…
Predictably, Graham's declaration surprised General Beckman. "You know her?"
"I do. She's one of my finest students and one of the stars of the Unit."
The General had not been much involved with the selection process for staffing the unit, being primarily concerned with maintaining its cloak of secrecy and also helping with the technical aspects of its establishment and function. "Then what is she doing in Burbank?"
"Beats me," replied Graham. "I thought she'd died in the plane crash.
"The missing agent," said Beckman, managing to put two and two together.
"The missing agent," he confirmed. "It's a miracle she survived."
"You and I can wonder about it later. What concerns me is why she never attempted to contact us after the accident."
"I don't know, but I sure want to find out. Tell Major Casey to look into the matter."
"Shall I include a termination order?"
"No!" Graham said harshly. "She must have had a very good reason for not contacting the Agency. She would never betray us, General."
"If you say so," shrugged Beckman. "Casey said she's romantically involved with the young Mr. Bartowski."
"She was completely unaware of his father's involvement in the Omaha Project, if that's what you're hinting at," he informed Beckman. "It must be a coincidence. I know, in our business there are no such things as coincidences and any appearing as such are suspicious 99% of the time, but this is the exception that proves the rule. I can feel it in my gut."
Beckman smiled. Graham was kind of famous throughout the intelligence community for his gut feelings, which were rarely off.
"There's a story here, a deeper and intriguing story and I want to learn it," he added.
"We'll do it your way. I'll contact Casey and ask him to look into the matter. How do you want it handled? Should he take a discreet or a more direct approach?"
"He should confront her directly. By now, according to his report, she knows he's an agent, so there's no need to beat around the bush." Secretly, Graham was very happy. True, he was curious as to what had happened between the plane crash and Casey's report, but the news of Sarah's survival, miraculous as it appeared, lifted his spirits considerably. He thought about Jack Walker for a moment, trying to picture the other man's reaction to the news. But that would have to wait until a clear picture had formed. Right now, the priority was letting Casey know.
"Casey."
"Major, this is General Beckman. Where are you right now?"
"I've just wrapped up a meeting with Stephen Bartowski and his wife and I'm almost back at my temporary base of operations, ma'am. They both agreed to install panic button apps in their phones as well, by the way."
"This is good news, but I need you to track down Chuck Bartowski. It's about his girlfriend."
"What of her?" Casey asked.
"I think it's best if Director Graham explained the situation to you."
"I'm listening."
"Major, there is something you need to know about Ms. Walker. She's one of us."
"She's an agent? Why wasn't I told?"
"Because we were unaware of her whereabouts," replied Graham. "Before you start worrying, let me tell you she's one of the best and I trust her with my life. I don't know how she ended up in Burbank, but until this morning she was missing and presumed dead. Maybe she failed to report she was alive and well because she came across something she needed to investigate… Hell, I don't know. Find her and have her report directly to me, understand, Major?"
"Yes sir."
"Be discreet about it. Don't involve anyone from either agency unless you absolutely have to."
"Understood," said Casey. "I'll contact you the moment I have news."
Graham was still thoughtful after hanging up. "You know, this puts the incident with Delgado in a whole new light," he said finally. "Sarah and not Chuck may have been the target."
"How so?" Beckman asked. She didn't question her CIA counterpart's judgment, but she was curious about how he'd reached the conclusion.
"Sarah was the one who gave Delgado his scar and sent him to prison. I'm going to have to ask for the full police reports on the incident as well as everything that happened in the prison before Delgado escaped."
"You're worried we might have sent Major Casey on a wild goose chase," stated the General. "Still, until we have the full story, it's better to err on the side of caution."
-o-
After getting his new orders Casey drove to Echo Park, taking a slight detour first, and knocked on Chuck's door.
"He's not here," said Devon from behind him, causing him to whirl around. Devon wasn't alone either. He and Ellie were returning from a night shift at the hospital.
"Do you know where he is? I dropped by his office and he wasn't there either."
"Why? Is something wrong? Is Chuck safe?" Ellie asked, going in full-on worried big sister mode.
Casey grunted noncommittally in reply. "I just need to talk to him, that's all," he said finally.
"He spent the night at Sarah's," Ellie informed him.
"I see. What can you tell me about her? I'm sorry I'm keeping you from having your rest, but it could very well be a national security matter."
"Then it's best we don't discuss such matters in the open. Come on in," said Devon, unlocking the door to his and Ellie's apartment.
Once they were all settled in the living room, Casey began asking questions. "How did he meet Sarah Walker?"
"He saved her life," replied Devon. "I was there." He went on to recount the events of that day in Palos Verdes.
Ellie decided to throw her own two cents in. "Sarah wasn't in too bad a shape, physically, but she'd suffered head trauma which led to amnesia. She had no recollection whatsoever of her life up to the moment she woke up in a hospital bed. The LAPD proved unable to help in establishing her identity, although she managed to sign her name on a delivery log." Seeing Casey's bafflement at the last part of her statement, she went on to explain the workings of muscle memory and the distinction between different types of memory: episodic, procedural and muscle. "In the end, it was clear that only her episodic memory was affected. So, when she was discharged from the hospital, she set about trying to live a normal life. Everyone helped her: Chuck, a social worker, the police detective who was originally assigned her case… In the end she went to a judge and managed to secure provisional identification documents, which she used to get a job. She also hired a couple of PI's, who helped immeasurably discover facts about her past."
*grunt* (Fuck me sideways) "So you're telling me… Shit!"
"What?"
Casey hesitated, but decided to tell the truth. After all, Ellie and Devon now knew about Stephen Bartowski's involvement with the intelligence community. "What those investigators uncovered was just her cover."
"Cover?" Ellie and Devon asked simultaneously.
"Sarah Walker is an agent of the CIA. I only learned about it this morning myself."
"Sarah is a spy?" Devon squeaked. "This is so cool!"
"Well, this may be of importance. I'll contact my superiors and relay what you've just told me. Back to the reason I came here, can you tell me her address and the name of the private investigations agency she used?"
"I'll write everything down for you," Devon volunteered.
"Thank you, I appreciate it."
-o-
In the meantime, Chuck and Sarah were in her car, driving east towards Big Bear Lake. She had turned the radio on, not loud enough to prevent any conversation, but only to make for a cheerful atmosphere. She noticed her boyfriend squirming a bit in the passenger seat.
"Something wrong, Chuck?"
"Not exactly, but I need to take a leak," he replied. "Too much coffee," he added.
"Well, at least it wasn't your regular thinking juice, so you're not drunk," she laughed. He'd claimed it was too early in the day for chardonnay, so he'd gone with coffee instead – lots and lots of coffee, meaning a few bathroom breaks as he worked. And now he was feeling some of the aftereffects.
He gave her a mock glare as he checked her nav system. "There's a gas station coming up in a couple of miles or so. Can we stop there, please?"
"Sure, a pit stop can't hurt." She smiled and changed the subject. "I still can't believe how easily you did it. And you never told me where and how you learned to do it."
"I was always a pretty good hacker," he told her. "Of course, I was careful never to break any laws, but it came in handy on occasion, like when customers asked me to check their network security back when I was working at the Buy More. They used to pay me extra for my trouble, too. By the way, your laptop was one of the hardest jobs I've ever done. You had some pretty good security software in it. If I didn't know any better, I'd say it was government grade."
"Yet you broke it in no time at all. I'll have to properly reward you for it," she purred. "Ah, there it is." She pointed towards the gas station.
"Finally. My bladder feels like it's about to burst."
"Gross," said Sarah, scrunching her nose in disgust, but proceeded to park her Porsche. Chuck was out the moment she stopped and was running towards the men's room. Sarah shook her head, got leisurely out of her car and went to answer her own call of nature in the ladies' room.
Among all the excitement generated by the process of trying to break the encryption on her laptop, which was among the stuff she'd left in her PO Box for safekeeping, plus the pure joy when Chuck succeeded and of course the planning for their road trip, they'd forgotten to have anything more substantial than some of Ellie's cookies for breakfast and now they were both hungry.
Fortunately, there was a diner next to the gas station, so they found a booth by the window and ordered a generous breakfast, which they took their time to thoroughly enjoy. Throughout the meal, they consciously avoided discussing the purpose of their road trip and especially Sarah's hopes for its outcome.
-o-
The Maison 23 had been a bust, as Sarah and Chuck weren't there. Casey could have checked with the doorman, but refrained from doing so in order to avoid calling attention to both himself and Sarah, as Graham had been adamant to keep things as low key as humanly possible. This left him with one remaining avenue of investigation: The private investigation business run by Cole Barker and his partner, whom Devon and Ellie had mentioned in passing, without providing a name. He had, however, their office address and so he set off for there, hoping to find at least one of them there.
Finding a place to park took some time, but eventually found a spot not far from his intended destination. Getting out of his beloved Limited Edition 1985 Ford Crown Victoria, he straightened his tie and picked up his briefcase before locking the car and activating the alarm.
"Come in," called a feminine voice from inside the office when he knocked. Luck was with him that morning. He was going to be able to talk to someone.
He opened the door and entered. "Good morning ma'am," he told the blonde sitting behind a desk in what obviously doubled as a reception area in the office. "I'm…"
"Major Coburn?"
His eyes widened in surprise as he finally recognized the woman. The last time he'd seen her she had been wearing an Army uniform and combat gear, with her hair in a regulation bun instead of the practical pantsuit she was currently sporting. He also remembered her name. "Captain Forrest, what a surprise," he said. "To be honest, you're the last person I'd expect to see here."
"Well, things change, so I decided not to renew my contract with the Army and opened this business with a buddy."
"Mr. Barker," nodded Casey.
"We worked well together in A-Stan, so it made sense to go into business together," she shrugged. "What can we do for the Corps?"
"I need information on one of your clients," said Casey without preamble.
"I'm afraid I can't help you. Client privilege and all that," she replied.
The door to the inner office opened and Cole Barker came out. "I thought I heard voices," he said. "Good morning sir," he greeted Casey. "I'm Cole Barker." The two men shook hands.
"Cole, this is Major Alexander Coburn, USMC. Major, meet Captain Cole Barker, of the British Army… retired, of course."
"You two know each other?" Cole asked.
"From Afghanistan," confirmed Alex. "Major Coburn here requested information on one of our clients."
"Really? Which one?"
"I don't know, but we're not in the habit of releasing client information," Alex stated flatly, getting a nod from Cole.
"Personally, I find your work ethic commendable, but this is potentially a national security matter," said Casey. "Also, in the interest of establishing a bit more mutual confidence and considering that both of you are beyond reproach (which was true. He'd already checked Cole's background and he knew about Forrest and her exemplary service record from his time in Afghanistan), I can tell you that my name is not really Coburn."
"Makes sense, considering the hush-hush nature of the business you and your unit had been up to when we met," said Alex. "So, what's your real name?"
"John Casey," he replied. "I'm currently with the NSA." He showed them both his badge for good measure. "It's imperative that I find Sarah Walker, who is a client of yours, and since no one else could help, I was hoping you might point me in the right direction."
"Oh man, I hope she's not in any sort of trouble," groaned Alex. "I like the kid."
"She's not, or at least she doesn't appear to be," Casey reassured her.
"Then take a seat, Major Cob- Casey," said Cole. "Sarah came to us for help. She has amnesia and we were fortunately able to discover things about her past, including her real identity."
"Her boyfriend's sister told me as much. The question is where she is right now."
Cole took the cue. "We managed to recover her laptop, among other things. She called us this morning and told us that she and her boyfriend managed to figure out her password and access her email account. They decided to visit the person the most recent chain of emails concerned. They let us know to avoid any duplication of effort I case we came by any reference to him. They're on their way there now."
"I'm going to need a name and an address," insisted Casey.
Cole nodded at Alex. "The name is Clyde Decker and he has a cabin over at Big Bear Lake," she said. "Sarah also said she was going to let us know how the meeting will turn out, in case she needs us to look into any more leads."
"Clyde Decker, Big Bear Lake," Casey repeated. "Thank you. I'll take it from here. Oh, and remember: this conversation never took place."
"Our lips are sealed," Alex promised.
"What she said," agreed Cole.
"Again, thank you."
-o-
"CLYDE DECKER? ARE YOU ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN, MAJOR?" Graham roared when Casey gave him and Beckman his report.
"Yes sir. According to the PI's, Agent Walker appeared to have had some sort of business transaction with him."
"Was it about renting a cabin by the lake?"
Casey checked the copy of the notes Alex and Cole had given him. "Yes sir."
"And you say she's lost her memory? Damn, this is turning into a disaster of epic proportions!"
"What do you want me to do, sir?"
"Major, find her before it's too late. I'll email you details, but her life is in danger."
"He can't go in alone," General Beckman cut in. "You'll need help, Major and we can't provide you with a team in such a short notice. However, we've read the police report on the Delgado case. Mr. Barker was instrumental in its conclusion. Ask him to help and take him along as a contractor. He'll be paid accordingly."
"Yes ma'am," said Casey and got out of the car, going back to the PIs' office at a fast pace.
TO BE CONTINUED