Scene LXI – El Segundo, 729 Lairport Street, Warehouse
Agents Norris, Phillips, and Walker were parallel-parked in their black surveillance van on Maple Avenue, about a block and a half away from the suspected site of Gomes and his cell. Norris and Phillips were monitoring the various electronic devices. Sarah was continuing to familiarize herself with the intelligence gathered on both Gomes and the property in question, as well as meticulously documenting their activities and findings to that point.
729 Lairport Street had turned out to be a small, unmarked warehouse with yellow-green metal siding. Tucked amidst of sea of other warehouses, its location seemed ideal for a base of operations: two highways, the 105 and 405, were in close proximity, as was the airport.
What also made it a logical hideout was that there was no good place to set up surveillance. The front of the building was protected by a strip of greenery, including several trees that obscured every view of the front entrance.
Lairport Street was a two-lane road close to the front of the warehouse, which meant parking on the street outside was too obvious and would be noticed immediately. Several buildings surrounded the warehouse in close proximity, again limiting views of the building, and the blacktop area around the sides and back of the building was largely covered with junk and beaten-up shipping containers.
She had to admit that their adversaries had chosen well. However, as another adversary had once said, this wasn't the agents' first time.
Decked out in black action gear, Sarah broke into the warehouse across the street and mounted three cameras in windows facing the suspected hideout. The first pointed at the front entrance. The second covered the sole entrance to the parking lots, and would allow them to capture the license plates and vehicle types of anyone coming or going. The final camera, set in a vent near the roofline, was able to capture footage of the fenced blacktop area on the opposite side of the warehouse. The cameras were likely to escape notice for the time they needed them.
The plain black surveillance van performed a pair of drive-bys, suitably staggered as if the van had proceeded down the street for a delivery, and returned afterwards. On each pass, hidden cameras on the sides of the vans captured footage of the property.
The team parked and examined the infrared video after each drive-by to see if any security measures could be detected. Nothing was evident, but mercury lights on the four corners of the building may have prevented the night vision from capturing any fixtures mounted near them. Plus, there were far too many places where a well-defended sentry with a weapon could be posted.
They couldn't risk a breach at this time. The team would need to monitor the site using the cameras to see if they could locate any sentries changing shifts. They would also need to wait until daylight to perform another pair of sweeps with the van, and an additional one using cameras mounted on an agent's clothes as he walked by.
Sarah sighed impatiently and checked her watch. It was just after 5:00 am, but the streets were as dark as they were several hours before. There would be enough daylight to make the next van passes around 8:00. However, unless there was a lot of pedestrian foot traffic, the pass with an agent couldn't happen until 9:00 at the earliest. There was too much risk a pedestrian would stand out if it was done too early. 9:00 am was a long way away.
She idly wondered why she hadn't heard back from Chuck; she expected he would call her with either a positive or negative report. Not wanting to wake him, she had two options: call Casey, whom she didn't mind waking, or call the front desk at the CIA facility. Given her confrontation with Casey the previous night, it was an easy decision.
A guard picked up after two rings. "Security."
"Agent Walker here. Was badge #1528 escorted out last night?"
There was a pause and a rustling of papers. "Negative. Badge #1528 was not escorted out, nor was the badge returned to the desk."
Sarah gave a worried frown. "OK, I'm en route. Please confirm visitor is still present in Interrogation Suite 3-Bravo; call me back on this number." She hung up.
That didn't make any sense. Why wouldn't he leave? It was easy to tell he was exhausted all the previous day; she would have expected him to be home in bed hours ago.
She quickly gave Norris and Phillips some basic orders about maintaining their watch and, after a quick scan of the street, hopped out of the van and into her Porsche. She used her trip as an opportunity to find the quickest route back to the 405; one never knew when knowing an escape route would come in handy.
Opening up the engine on the on-ramp, a small smile escaped her lips as the acceleration pushed her deeper into the seat. Reluctantly, she let off the gas as she merged onto the freeway; no point in attracting the attention of a bored traffic cop.
Her phone rang. "Walker here."
"Security. Visitor is still in Interrogation Suite 3-Bravo."
"What was he doing?"
"He's sleeping, ma'am."
Sarah gave a bit of a sigh. She hadn't realized just how tense she had become while worrying about him.
"Roger that. Thanks for the assistance." She hung up.
Scene LXII – CIA Facility, Main Interrogation Room
Sarah unlocked the door from the hallway, rationally knowing that Chuck was safe inside. Despite having assurances he was just napping, she was still unable to shake the thought that something might have happened. She opened the door.
Sure enough, Chuck reclined in one of the leather chairs, his feet extended to another chair across from him. He had switched off several banks of lights, leaving only the one at the opposite end of the room on. He looked peaceful; she really didn't want to disturb him.
She shut the door, locking it out of habit, and began to move across the room towards him. Why had he stayed here? All he had to do was call the front desk, and he had the number.
His cell phone lay on the table near him, the display blank. It didn't take an agent to solve this one; his battery must be dead.
Oh, Chuck, she thought. Some times it was hard to remember that he wasn't an agent. An agent knew that a dead cell phone battery could mean, well, a dead agent.
At the same time, Sarah felt a little guilty for not taking better care of her asset. She had rushed out of the agency so quickly for the other mission that she never took the time to ensure the team had him protected. There was no guarantee they would have caught the dead battery, but still.
Her eyes scanned his face as she knelt down next to his chair, slowly tracing its lines and curves. She was trained to memorize every last detail of another person's face in a glance, but something about his was … elusive, almost slippery. Rarely did she have the chance to observe him without giving him the wrong idea.
She frowned. Hadn't she been trying to find the right moment to show Chuck how she felt?
Poor Chuck, she thought to herself. If she didn't instinctively know what the right idea had been, he certainly couldn't have known. She wondered how often she had sent out mixed signals without even recognizing them.
Part agent. Part asset. Part wonderful, wonderful man. All three needed her protection. However, as yesterday had shown, she couldn't protect him if her feelings got in the way.
Stakeouts give an agent too much time to think. There is plenty of down-time for the mind to wander; she had revisited the time in the office suite.
When Gomes locked her in the dark room, she became helpless, frozen by the thought of what might be happening to Chuck. Her most valuable instincts as an agent were suddenly unavailable to her, and she found herself unable to act.
Maybe she could have helped, and maybe not, but she realized that she certainly wasn't protecting Chuck to the best of her abilities. He could have died because her emotions had paralyzed her. Her eyes glistened ever so slightly.
So, in the dark of the night, she had decided to switch directions yet again. This time, it was final. Nothing would happen with Chuck while they worked together; she was sworn to protect him, and couldn't do so if her emotions got in the way.
The only saving grace was that she realized what a mistake it would be before anything happened.
His words from the other night resonated in her head: "You protect me in your world, so I'll protect you in mine." She stared at him as she resolved to uphold her end of that bargain, no matter what the cost. She wiped her eyes dry, attempting to calm herself before awakening him.
Sarah allowed herself one last tour of his features before she put a hand on his leg and shook him gently. Hopefully he wouldn't feel as though she abandoned him earlier that night. "Chuck," she called softly. "Chuck."
He stirred sleepily, but didn't fully awaken. "Chuck," she called again, a little louder.
His eyes slowly opened, searching for the source of the voice. When he was finally able to focus on her, his face crinkled into a smile. Oh, no, she thought. Please don't smile at me so sweetly.
"Hi," he said, stretching.
The glistening in the bottom of her eyes was back, joined by an answering smile she couldn't stop. "Hi," she replied, a bit huskily.
His smile vanished. In a concerned tone, he asked, "Are you OK?"
She nodded, and forced her smile to stay in place. "Just a bit tired."
Standing up, she managed to steal an opportunity to clear a bit of the moisture from her eyes. She looked back at him. "Let's get you home."
Scene LXIII – Buy More
Chuck wandered into a world he didn't understand.
As soon as the automated doors shut behind him, he knew something wasn't right. Maybe it was the lack of laughter from the employees. Maybe it was that the home theater room was dark.
Or maybe it was that Morgan, Jeff and Lester were all hard at work.
Morgan was really working on a guy over by the refrigerators. Not his area of specialty, if Morgan managed to sell one, it would be his first.
Lester and Jeff were manning the Nerd Herd desk. Lester was on the phone with a customer, and seemed to be laughing politely rather than his usual sardonic self. Jeff looked, well, clean and sober. He was pleasantly interacting with a elderly woman who was clearly having trouble understanding the finer points of operating her iPod, such as turning it off or selecting a song.
He was baffled. What was next, Big Mike leaving his office before his lunch break?
"Chuck!" Big Mike called as he approached with a big smile and a bigger coffee mug.
OK, this is just getting weird.
"I don't know what you did, but you actually got these numbskulls to do their job. What's your secret?"
"Don't know. Know your employees, I guess."
"You know, that seems like a lot of effort. I think I'll let you take on that responsibility."
"Does that mean I get the assistant manager position?"
"God, no. I'm just letting you take on the responsibility. But keep it up and I might spring for a Fresca. Maybe even a 20-ouncer."
Chuck's brow furrowed. "Out of curiosity, how would you describe your management style? 'Carrot-or-the-stick'? 'Stick-or-the-stick'?"
"I'd have to say 'stick-or-my-foot-up-your-ass'."
"So you're an empathetic manager."
Big Mike's smile vanished in a hurry. "Watch it, Bartowski. You just got back on my good side."
"Yes, sir."
The smile was back as quickly as it had disappeared. "Keep up the good work!" Big Mike toasted Chuck with his coffee mug before heading off in the direction of his office, interacting genially with a pair of green shirts along the way. Chuck could only shake his head.
An excited Morgan intercepted Chuck on his way to the Nerd Herd desk. "Chuck, I just sold a top-of-the-line refrigerator. With full warranty." The pair kept moving, Morgan walking backwards, as they talked.
"That's great! First frig sale for you in forever, right?"
"Second. I sold another one earlier today."
Chuck was genuinely impressed. "Wow, you're on a roll. What inspired you?"
"You know, it's all thanks to those patches that Ellie scored from the hospital." He pulled up his sleeve to reveal a small, circular orange-brown patch. "I've been as clear-headed as I've been in forever, now that the nicotine is out of my system."
"Really."
"Sure. I've gotten my energy back, my creative juices have been flowing…"
"Your creative juices?"
The two arrived at the Nerd Herd desk just as Jeff finished up with his customer. Chuck noticed the old lady walked away with a smile on her face. This truly was a day for the books.
Morgan continued, "Yeah, I started writing music again. Me and my man Jeff here are thinking about forming a rap group."
"A what?"
Jeff smirked, "A rap group." He spread his hands out in front of him to highlight the name as he said it: "The Notorious JMG".
Chuck, puzzled, looked at the pair. "What does the 'JMG' stand for?"
Morgan answered, "'Jeff'. And 'Morgan Grimes'."
Lester leaned over. "Why does Jeff only get one initial?"
Jeff suddenly looked a little upset. "Yeah, why does Jeff only get one initial?"
Morgan rolled his eyes as if it were obvious. "Because his initial comes first. Only fair way to do it."
Jeff looked unconvinced.
Morgan said, "C'mon, you have to admit it sounds better than 'The Notorious MJ'. Look, the name isn't important. We can call ourselves 'Terrifyin' Monkey' for all I care. At the end of the day, it's about the music."
Chuck gave a low chuckle. Morgan was already acting like a prima donna, and they hadn't even decided on a name. All in all, he was too amused by the whole thing to let it go. "Since when do you two rap?"
Morgan replied, "I've got the soul of a rapper."
Lester interjected, "Trapped in the body of a leprechaun. All that's missing is a tam'o'shanter and a box of Lucky Charms. Can't figure out the pot of gold though..."
Morgan said, "Ha ha. Doubt all you want." Turning back to Chuck, he asked, "Want me to break off a little something for you?"
Chuck replied, "Oh, this I gotta see."
"Hit it, Jeff."
Jeff started an arrhythmic beat-box; Chuck was faintly disgusted by the amount of spit he cast into the air. Morgan kept waiting for the right moment to start, but either the off-cadence of the beat box or his lack of timing kept him from jumping in right away. Finally, he made his move.
"Chuck Bartowski
Should be on the TV
Kicked out of Stanford
Moved back in with El-lie
Works at the Buy More
'leven buck an hour
Didn't think he'd end up there,
Dontcha know that
In walks Sarah
Way beyond compare-a
Brought there by fate
they go on a date…"
Chuck cut them off. "Wow, that's not entirely terrible. You guys practicing at all?"
Jeff responded, "Not really. We expect to get by on our talent and our looks."
"Yeah, that might work." Desperately searching for a way out, he picked up the Nerd Herd job clipboard. He became confused as he looked at the board, flipping through the first few pages. "Does one of you guys have the first page to the job list? I can't seem to find it."
Lester, not looking up from his computer, said, "That's a new one I printed out this morning; that one's up-to-date."
Chuck flipped the first page up and down as he tried to reconcile what he remembered being on the list yesterday with what was there today. A thought slowly dawned on him. "You two knocked out all those jobs?! Nice work, guys!"
"With help from me," Anna said. She stood behind Morgan, arms folded, directing an annoyed stare at Chuck. She walked up, her cross expression replaced with a smile when Morgan turned to look at her. "Hi, sweetie," she said.
She planted a kiss on Morgan's cheek and then kept walking, the same cross expression returning when she turned away from Morgan to face Chuck. She strutted right past him.
Chuck's brow furrowed; he never did figure out what exactly got her ticked off. He handed the clip board to Morgan and said, "Excuse me a minute." He took off after Anna.
Scene LXIV – Buy More
Chuck caught up to Anna as she headed towards the back of the store. "Anna. Hey, wait up."
She stopped, and turned back to face Chuck, arms crossed. Her expression hadn't gotten any friendlier.
Chuck asked, "You got a sec?"
Anna looked as though she sorted through a few more flippant responses before settling on a slightly aggressive, "Sure."
Chuck led her into the dark home theater room, flipping on the lights and shutting the doors. Anna waited, not-so-patiently, in the center of the room.
Satisfied nobody could overhear, Chuck walked up to her and asked, "OK, so what is this all about?"
"What is what all about?"
"The cold shoulder. The icy attitude. I never thought of us as best buds, but this seems a bit extreme."
"Is it? Is it extreme for somebody who's trying to steal away my boyfriend?"
Chuck's brow furrowed; he babbled in disbelief. "Who's trying to do what now?"
"Don't play dumb. You're trying to get Morgan back together with Ellie."
Chuck felt a little relief, but was still baffled. "What in the world would I do that for?"
"I don't know. Maybe so you two could see even more of each other at the holidays. Maybe you don't like Devon. But I'm tired of see you push him into Ellie's arms."
"First of all, Morgan already sees all of me he wants to. He shows up at my place uninvited half the time. And Devon? I love him like a frat brother." He paused. "That overly talkative, cocky frat brother whose passion for extreme sports is only matched by his passion for domestic chores, but still."
Anna wasn't the least bit convinced.
Chuck said, "Let's back up a step. When did I push Morgan towards Ellie?"
"When you had her get those special nicotine patches that only a doctor can obtain. She'd have to break the law to give those to Morgan. Are you really going to sit here and tell me she'd do that for a guy unless she had strong feelings for him?"
Of course. Now it was starting to come into focus. "Anna, the 'patches' that Ellie gave Morgan? They're just Band-aids. Morgan was taking the whole cigarette addiction thing so seriously that he kept making it worse: ODing on nicotine patches, chewing nicotine gum. She helped give him a placebo, and only because I asked her to."
A faint bit of hope shone in Anna's eyes. "The patches are … fakes?"
"Completely. And so you know, Ellie's eyes nearly rolled all the way to the back of her head when I asked her to do me the favor. We're talking exorcist-style roll-back; all that was missing was the head spinning around."
The scowl faded, replaced by a hopeful smile. "So you were just taking care of him."
Chuck shrugged. "Of course. That's what friends do for each other."
She crooked a finger at Chuck. He leaned forward, and she gave him a peck on the cheek. "Thank you," she said.
"Tsk tsk tsk," came Casey's voice. He stood by the now-open door to the room, wearing his customary green Buy More shirt and khakis. "What would Sarah say?"
Anna, knowing Casey would be there for Chuck and not for her, headed for the door. "Probably 'Can't blame you. I can't keep my hands off him either.'" She flashed a smile back at Chuck before she exited the room.
Casey shook his head as he let the door shut behind her. "I'm thinking more like, 'I can't keep my lunch down at the thought either.'"
Chuck was in too good a mood to banter. "So, what's going on with the mission?"
Casey shrugged, "I have no idea. I was going to ask you."
"What?! How can you have no idea?"
Casey managed to look a bit sheepish. It wasn't a good look for him.
"C'mon, Casey, what's up?"
"Well, you remember around Christmas, when I laid into you for no good reason?"
"Yeah, it's pretty much seared into my brain. Why?"
Casey held his arms out like his point was obvious.
Chuck's eyes narrowed. "You laid into Sarah for no good reason?"
"I thought I had good reason. Turns out I was just paranoid."
"You know, at some point you might find that extending a little trust goes a long way."
"People who extend trust in my line of work tend to end up very dead."
"Even between partners?"
Casey looked like a man in unfamiliar territory.
Chuck processed everything for a minute. "Well, I wouldn't worry about it."
"Sure. Why worry while I'm sitting here on the bench while she's off getting all the glory."
"I've been on Sarah's wrong side on things like this before. When it's time for action, she'll call you in."
"I'm not so sure about that. I went pretty overboard."
"Yeah, well, Sarah's a pretty forgiving sort. Trust me; she'll call."
Right on cue, Casey's phone rang. Chuck's grin grew bigger; that kind of timing was something one dreamed about. The way things were going, he might even end up with Sarah by the end of the day.
Casey looked at the caller ID as if he couldn't believe it. He answered, "Casey here."
Sarah was sitting in the security van, looking at the surveillance cameras. "I'm watching a mutual friend of ours enter a warehouse over by the airport."
Casey's eyes lit up. "Greasy hair? Weaselly little grin?"
Sarah's grin turned a little evil. "And he was walking with a man with bright green eyes."
Casey looked like he might actually start drooling.
Sarah continued, "I think it's high time we paid these two a visit, don't you?"
"Wouldn't miss it."
"Well, get here quick. The action's about to begin. Chuck can give you the address." She hung up.
An invigorated Casey ordered, "C'mon, Chuck," as he dashed from the room. Chuck quickly followed, racing past surprised store patrons as he tried to catch up to Casey.