Scene VIII – Buy More

January 2nd was a slow day at the Buy More. With most people heading back to work, only the occasional corporate IT guy wandered into the store, usually just to pick up some miscellaneous parts. Because of this, the store was staffed down, with only a pair of green shirts and the Nerd Herd on staff. Even Big Mike didn't bother to show up.

Chuck decided to hit the ground running on his resolution to get better at his Buy More job. Taking advantage of the quiet store, he gathered the Herders for a morning meeting at the central desk. There were a couple of standard briefing items, and then he planned on giving a pep talk to the troops.

Jeff lounged in one of the office chairs, feet up on the desk. Anna sat on the counter, filing her nails. Lester finally wandered up and leaned against the Buy More desk, completing the crew.

"OK, guys – and Anna." Not looking up from her nails, Anna gave a sardonic smile in acknowledgment. "Today should be reasonably calm. We'll probably have some basic IT calls from small businesses during the day, and that's about it. Things should be pretty dead."

Lester's face lit up. "All right!" He looked around at the others. "I'm thinking Unreal Tournament 3, Capture-the-Flag style, Buy More #73 versus the world. Who's with me?"

The others chimed in excitedly; Chuck tried to head off the ensuing chaos. "Well, actually I was hoping we can use today to make up some ground on the repair jobs in the queue. We're pretty behind." He held up the clipboard of jobs to emphasize his point.

Jeff just laughed. "Yeah, that might happen." Anna grinned in agreement, focused on filing her nails. Lester simply shook his head at Chuck's naiveté.

Chuck was about to call Jeff on his comment when he noticed Morgan walking up, looking haggard and pale. Morgan stumbled slowly to the desk, his face highlighted by a flat expression and tired eyes. "Morgan, buddy, you feeling OK?"

Morgan shook himself, gamely trying to wave it off. "Yeah, I'm fine. You know, the first couple days of a new resolution are always toughest, right?"

Chuck had no idea what Morgan was talking about. Hugging his clipboard, he asked, "What, are you finally giving up energy drinks?"

"Nope; cigarettes."

Chuck's eyes narrowed with disbelief. "Morgan, you don't smoke."

Morgan shrugged as if his smoking habit was common knowledge. "Sure I do."

"Since when?"

"I had a few at the New Year's Eve party."

Lester rolled his eyes. "Please. You bummed one drag off of one of Jeff's, and you immediately had a five-minute coughing fit." Turning to Chuck, he said with a malicious grin, "We thought he was going to cough up a lung."

Morgan wasn't fazed. "Yeah, but there was something about that one. Now they haunt my dreams, Chuck. They call my name." His energy level seemed to have miraculously returned to normal in the previous few moments.

Chuck really didn't know what to say, other then, "Well, good luck with that."

Jeff, in one of his rare moments of wanting to be included, offered, "I made a resolution, too. Bet you can't guess what it is."

Everyone started speaking at once.

Chuck: "Giving up drinking?"

Morgan: "I'll go with 'no more porn in the break room'?"

Lester: "Cut back on the prostitutes?"

Anna: "Stop picking your nose in front of customers?"

The suggestions kept coming fast and furious from all sides, with only Chuck refusing to offer any more.

"Get a date?"

"Quit smoking?"

"Oh, stop selling pirated video games on eBay?"

"Actually do some work?"

"Is it 'Get a new hairstyle'?"

"Nah, I like his hair the way it is."

"Lose some weight?"

Jeff was a little shell-shocked. In a timid voice, he said, "No, I was going to pay off my student loans." He stared at each of them in turn, a hurt expression on his face, before spinning around in his chair and slinking away.

Morgan and the remaining Herders just stared after him for a moment. Finally, Morgan broke the silence. "I still would have gone with 'no more porn'." The Herders' debate started up again.

Chuck set his clipboard down with a frustrated expression on his face; it looked like his pep talk would have to wait.

Scene IX – CIA Facility, Main Interrogation Room

Sarah peered through the one-way mirror at the first suspect. His brown curly hair and faint skin tone added the only color to the small white room, aside from the three simple aluminum chairs and the matching table he sat behind. More than anything, he looked bored, which was a bit surprising for a programmer who had been swept from his office and spent the night in a spartan CIA holding cell.

She had not been back to the facility since the day they tried to interview Bryce Larkin. The memory tugged at her more than she thought it would; even the white linen suits that the detainees wore reminded her of Bryce. Heck, in a different time it would be Bryce helping her interrogate the suspects; she still found herself missing how well the pair meshed on assignments from time to time. Still, she was relieved that his pull on her seemed to be fading.

Glancing down at one of the file folders, she continued to try to familiarize herself with the suspects. She was currently observing Brent Davis, owner and namesake of BD Security Consulting.

There wasn't much of file on Brent: he had both undergraduate and graduate degrees from USC, spending some time working for a local technology company in between stints at the university. After getting his MBA, he joined up with a couple of classmates to form a consulting company, but the trio had an acrimonious split which included an out-of-court settlement to a lawsuit brought by Davis. His next step was to start BD Security Consulting.

The company had been founded a little over a year ago, registered in Delaware like many businesses did to take advantage of the lenient tax laws. The agents had little information on the company other than what anyone could have gathered from their web site: a list of a few client companies, some testimonials, and a list of services they provided.

BD Security Consulting specialized in hacking into corporate computer networks to expose security flaws. Depending on the client need, they provided everything from security assessments to vulnerability testing to responses to specific incidents. In other words, they broke into systems for a living. The question became: why would the company go after a CIA server?

Sarah closed the folder and walked across the long side of the whitewashed room. There were three interrogation rooms accessed from the main room, each with its own one-way mirror and door. Brent Davis was in the first room, while the other suspect sat in the third. Well, that wasn't entirely accurate.

Jeremy Cushman lay prone on top of the table, one arm shielding his head from the cold, hard metal. Dressed in another white linen suit, all that was really visible of Jeremy were his arms and his matted, slightly oily brown hair. Every so often, Cushman started shaking, the only obvious indication that he was even breathing.

Cushman had started out a lot more nervous about the incarceration than his boss, but the nervousness had faded fast in favor of headaches, low energy and occasional bouts of shaking. The symptoms suggested Cushman was suffering severe withdrawal to something. Sarah neither knew nor cared what drug he craved; she just hoped the withdrawal made him more willing to talk.

Many of the classic interrogation techniques that they would normally use were out of bounds on this case. There was a decent chance they would be turning both of the suspects over to the police at some point, and while breaking into a CIA server gave her team a little bit of leeway in how they could handle the two men, right now there was really little they could do if they couldn't get the subjects to open up.

The agents decided to start by isolating the two suspects overnight, providing minimal accommodations, food and human contact. Hopefully that unnerved at least one of them enough to start talking.

Sarah decided to focus on Davis first. That would allow Cushman to suffer a little more withdrawal before she started asking him questions.

Walking back to the first room, she took a deep breath at the door. Interrogation wasn't her strong suit; Sarah much preferred being in the field. However, Director Graham claimed their resources were strapped, so she and Casey were going to need to do the bulk of the legwork. Sarah suspected the decision was at least partly based on punishing the agents for letting the third suspect escape. There were few greater punishments for a field agent than essentially getting stuck behind a desk for a while.

Nodding to the technician at the instrumentation desk, she indicated that she was ready to begin. The technician nodded back and began working the monitoring equipment that could record the activity in Davis' room. Casey was stuck working his other job this morning, and until he arrived, the technician would need to run the equipment and provide back-up in case a suspect got violent. That seemed unlikely with these two, but just in case, both suspects wore a cuff around their ankle that was attached by a cord to a metal ring embedded in the floor. As Bryce had shown, the most rigid security could be broken, so there was no need to take chances.

Assuming a blank expression, Sarah entered the room, shutting the door behind her. Rather than looking intimidated, Davis coolly looked her in the eye. "So, are we starting with the 'good cop' or the 'bad cop'?" Sarah gave him credit for the look, but he obviously had been waiting hours to use the line.

She slowly walked over to the table, the sound of her heels on the concrete floor echoing in the small room. Davis looked a little less sure of himself as she crossed the room without responding. Setting her folders and her notebook on her side of the table, Sarah slowly walked around to his side. She gently seated herself on the table next to him, her high-cut black skirt giving Davis a good look at her legs as she crossed them. He swallowed hard.

Leaning over slightly so her torso was supported by one arm, she finally answered his question with a sultry smile and a husky voice. "Which one would you like me to be? 'Good cop'?" She leaned closer towards him, causing her white blouse to part slightly. "Or 'bad cop'?"

Scene X – Buy More

Chuck walked nervously into the store, toting a Large Mart bag. He quickly looked around; sensing the coast was reasonably clear, he made a break for the employee lounge.

The bag contained a white aikido robe and matching white belt. He had taken his lunch break to sign up for a class at the studio that Awesome had recommended, and then slipped over to the Large Mart to pick up the necessary gear. The last thing Chuck wanted was for his co-workers to find out about his new hobby, so he wanted to get the bag into his break-room locker as quickly as possible.

Chuck had almost made it as far as the Nerd Herd desk when Morgan intercepted him. "Whatcha doing, man?"

Chuck quickly looked at him, shielding the bag a bit defensively with his body as he kept walking. "Nothing," he managed to push out. "Doing nothing. You?"

Morgan looked over curiously. "What's in the bag? Did you remember my birthday?"

Chuck's jaw dropped a little as he walked around the back of the Nerd Herd desk, setting the bag on the floor, tightly rolled shut. "You do realize your birthday isn't for two more months."

"And I'm touched that you're planning so far in advance. I am." Morgan tried to peek over the desk. "Um, so, what is it?"

"Morgan, it's not a birthday present."

"Ok, ok, don't tell me. I just want you to know: I appreciate the trouble you go through for me."

"Not really," Chuck muttered under his breath as he leaned down to push the bag under the desk. Morgan looked curiously at him, not quite able to make out what he had said. Chuck changed the subject, "So, it looks like the fight against nicotine withdrawal is going a little better."

Morgan beamed. "Yep, these patches are a life saver." He pulled up the sleeve on his green polo, showing three patches on his upper arm. "Didn't think I was going to make it until I slapped these on."

Chuck gaped. "You do know you're only supposed to use one of those at a time, right?"

"I know, Chuck, but I was really hurting. One wasn't doing it. Before the patches, I was going to break down and have a cigarette. Now I really think I'll pull through."

Chuck had to fight to keep from rolling his eyes. He loved Morgan like a brother, but he was such a chore some times. However, he knew from experience that pushing back on Morgan would just make things worse. "Well, try to cut back on the number of patches, at least."

As he offered his advice, Anna walked up. "How's my brave little man?" She threw her arms around his neck and pulled his head to her chest. "Doing better?"

Morgan smiled, enjoying his soft pillow. "I am now."

This had disaster written all over it, but for the life of him, Chuck had no idea what to do. Instead, he started looking through the queue of jobs for the Herd. It came as no real surprise to him that none of the jobs had been completed. He had to figure out a way to get these guys under control.

After snuggling with Anna for a second, Morgan pulled back and turned to Chuck. "Hey, by the way, it looks like today's deliveries have come in already." Anna whispered something in Morgan's ear; he quickly turned back to her and asked, "Really?" When she nodded with an evil grin, he grabbed her by the hand and led her towards the home theater room.

Shaking his head, Chuck tucked the bag back under the desk where it was unlikely to be found and headed back to the storage area. No deliveries were supposed to come in until later that day, but with it being the day after a holiday, the schedules sometimes got screwy.

Entering the storage cage area, Chuck saw only two boxes near the delivery dock: one a washer, one a dryer. That's strange, Chuck thought to himself. He picked up the clipboard with the invoice manifests and walked over to the boxes, checking the tags on top of the washing machine box.

Suddenly, Lester and Jeff burst out of their respective boxes, scaring the living daylights out of Chuck. "What the hell?" he blurted.

Jeff stared Chuck dead in the eye, and said, "Dish is a revenge best served cold." Chuck squinted as his expression turned disbelieving.

Lester looked over at Jeff, shaking his head and throwing his hands in the air in disgust. "Dude, you had one line, and you mucked it up," he said. "Now we're just going to have to get Chuck all over again." Jeff hung his head in shame.

Chuck, looking back and forth between the two, found himself protesting in a hurry. "No-o, you got me good. That's more than sufficient revenge for, for, tricking you into doing your jobs." He really had to work to force the last words out.

He couldn't understand why Lester was so hung up on the lie he had told them before Christmas. Heck, the end result was that Lester and Jeff got their work done, redeeming themselves somewhat in Big Mike's eyes after the Santa Claus incident. But for whatever reason, Lester seemed determined to make Chuck pay.

Jeff kept hanging his head. Despondently, he said, "No, Lester's right. Half of the revenge was in the line." Lester gave Jeff another look; Jeff refused to meet his gaze.

"Hey, if you want, I can go back out," Chuck said, pointing the clipboard and his opposite index finger at the door. "You two can hop back into the boxes, and we'll knock this thing out right now. I'd do that for you guys."

Jeff looked at Lester hopefully, but his expression quickly became downtrodden when he saw Lester wasn't buying it.

"Sorry, Chuck, we'll just have to figure out another act of revenge. C'mon, Jeff."

The two clambered out of their boxes. Jeff managed to trip over the top of his, ripping the cardboard down one side, ruining the box. As they headed for the door, Chuck called after them, "Hey, guys?"

The two turned. Chuck indicated the two boxes, one damaged and lying on its side, sitting in the middle of the floor with a quizzical look.

Lester looked confused for a second, and then understanding seemed to dawn on him. "Oh, thanks man. We appreciate you taking care of that for us."

Jeff added, "We'll be in the home theater room playing Unreal Tournament. Later, dude."

The pair exited.

Chuck stared after them disbelievingly. He stood without moving for a moment, debating whether it was worth chasing the pair down. When the obvious answer came to him, he sighed, cursing under his breath again.

As he cleaned up the boxes, he wondered whether he preferred being so much better at his job than anyone else, or so much worse.

Scene XI – CIA Facility, Main Interrogation Room

Casey strolled into the interrogation room with two bags of take-out from Lou's deli. The CIA facility had a cafeteria, but Casey was smart enough to avoid it. Besides, the sandwiches were terrific, and bringing Walker a sandwich from Lou's never failed to provoke a reaction. It was a win all the way around.

He reluctantly set the bags on the long table in the center of the room, avoiding the urge to tear into his sandwich immediately. He was about to head over to ask the technician how the interrogation was going when Sarah came out of the first room, shutting the door behind her. Her face told him exactly how things were going.

"What, no luck?" he asked rhetorically.

"Two hours of nothing," she replied irritably, heading over and slapping her file folders onto the table. Noticing the bags, she asked, "Lou's again?"

"Two pastramis, with everything," Casey said with the subtlest of grins.

Unfortunately, she was too preoccupied with her questioning of Davis to be bothered by the choice of sandwich. "Good. I'm starving."

Feeling a bit cheated of his fun, Casey turned back to the interrogation. "So the guy wouldn't crack?"

"Nope. He's pretty comfortable in his knowledge of 'Law and Order' and the like. He kept asking for his lawyer and a phone call, and harped on how we were violating his rights."

"Did you happen to mention his company was caught breaking into a CIA server?"

"No, I was saving that for later."

Casey nodded his agreement; it made sense to see if they could get anything else out of him first. "So nothing worked? Did you play seductress at all?"

Sarah responded, a bit sharply, "Of course."

Raising an eyebrow at her reaction, he asked, "Really?"

"Yep. I went after him; he didn't bite." Her eyes were unfocused, her tone distant; it was obvious she was thinking about something else.

Casey's eyes narrowed. "I find that hard to believe, Agent Walker. Despite my personal lack of interest, I've seen you in action and doubt a computer programmer could resist your charms. Are you certain you weren't holding back for … some reason?"

Her eyes, suddenly intense and angry, focused on him. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I think I do. It's up to us to get the job done, no matter if our personal feelings make us dislike an aspect of the mission at hand." Casey's eyes were fiery as he delivered the rebuke. His implication was clear: Casey was suggesting she was holding herself back because of her feelings for Chuck, and both of them knew it.

With a sarcastically sweet smile, Sarah responded, "I'm so glad you feel that way, Agent Casey. Because it turns out Mr. Davis is gay." As he processed what she was saying, his gut clenched. He stared off into space with a disbelieving, and slightly pained, expression.

Sarah picked up Davis' folder, and slapped it into Casey's midsection, causing him to reflexively grab it. As she walked past Casey, she smacked him on the ass, causing him to jump slightly.

"Go get 'em, tiger."