For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.
Here's a couple things you might need to know, or maybe you just forgot: It's Girl's Night Out at Club Azure, where Team Bartowski is trying to rescue a US nuclear physicist. The evening is complicated by Finch including other potential buyers, including Mr. Yi, one of terrorism's most-wanted, not to mention Ellie's gal pals from the hospital in for drinks. While Ellie gets the rest of her pals to go, she's left behind to be used for leverage in the negotiations.
Yi seemed so smug as Ellie was led to their table. "She means something to you?"
Finch looked back and forth between Chuck and Yi, completely confused by the new turn of events.
"Beautiful girl," he said as Ellie was nudged to stand with them.
Chuck didn't appreciate her new "friend" standing so close behind her, or of Yi reaching out to touch her hair. "There's no need for this," he sneered, his voice harsher than it had been all night. "You want the physicist? Fine. Take him."
Ellie realized Chuck was about to throw away whatever his mission had been, for her. While she'd lost a lot because of the spy life, she realized that her safety was not more important than that of the nation, the safety that Chuck, Sarah, and Casey all defended so hard. "Whatever it is, I'm not worth it."
Chuck glanced down quickly. The reaction in his earpiece had been so visceral, so gut-wrenching, so loud. He regretted ever doubting the big guy's love for his sister.
The word was ripped from his lips before he ever had a chance to try to stop it, before he had a chance to try to filter it, before he had a chance to do more than just react.
It sounded like anguish, like heart-shattering pain. It sounded like it came from someone else, from somewhere else.
"Bullshit."
Hearing her say those words, something had come over him, something he couldn't control. And he'd built his life around control. It was a new place for him, a scary place, one he couldn't afford to stay in long.
Sarah wasn't sure which was more interesting, the fact that Chuck was channeling Casey with the facial expressions or the emotional outburst Casey'd had to Ellie's nearly whispered statement.
What she was sure of, though, was that Yi brought more than just one extra to the party.
"One at the bar, four at the door, two at tables... We're quickly getting surrounded," Sarah radioed, mentally trying to figure out who could take out what, working on choreographing the fight.
"Yi has exterior muscle for a reason," Casey said, his voice still tense but he sounded somewhat calmer. "We focus on them, but anybody gets a clear shot at Yi, take it. It won't take much. Bartowski..."
Sarah watched as Chuck flicked his eyes towards Casey then back at Yi.
"Your sister's got to move."
"Oh-okay, l-listen," Finch stuttered. "These... whoever these people are, they're not with me. They're... They were supposed to be... This was supposed to be honest business-dealings! There wasn't supposed to be death or destruction or maiming or... disfigurement or... whatever, all right? So, let's walk out of here, Mr. Yi, you and me, and I'll take you to the physicist. We'll just go and we'll... we'll let these guys be... be cannon-fodder for your... clearly badass team of... people," he said, eying Yi's muscle nervously.
"Where is my physicist?" Yi asked.
"He's... close," Finch said, taking a shuffling half-step backwards.
The guy behind Ellie moved his hand, and, for the first time, Chuck saw the knife that had been held against his sister. His eyes unfocused again. When his vision cleared, he kicked a chair at Yi and rolled the table out of the way, hitting Finch in the knees.
The man behind Ellie tried to grab her, but Chuck's lightning-quick moves from the Intersect 2.0 prevented that from happening. Freeing his sister with one arm, he then shoved her clear of the melee.
Ellie, nearly falling on her wobbly high-heels, watched as Chuck performed moves she'd only seen in those kung-fu movies she'd reluctantly sat through with Devon and his frat brothers back at UCLA. She knew, for a certain, definite fact, that the closest her brother had ever gotten to martial arts had been watching Karate Kid repeatedly as a child.
The things he was doing would've required years of practice. He was performing them like they were nothing, like he'd been doing this his whole life...
Which he had not been doing.
Chuck's kicks and punches and grappling throws were amazing and scary to watch.
Hearing the hi-yahs from another part of the club, Ellie saw Sarah was engaged in a fight with two of the bodyguards herself. As a chair broke, she saw Casey, who had ditched the glasses and jacket, was using the broken pieces to prevent himself from being attacked.
It was all surreal, like watching a movie.
All the rest of the patrons, after the stunned silence wore off, rushed for the exits.
As did Finch.
While Ellie wasn't entirely sure what was going on, she knew that the guy trying to flee the scene was somehow important, and that none of the rest of the team seemed to be paying him any mind.
Leaving her shoes in the club, she chased after him.
She guessed it was the adrenaline that allowed her to keep up with him, to push past the pain of running on the sidewalk in her stockinged feet.
She had a stray thought about her pretty silk dress but let it go just as quickly as it entered her head.
Just ahead of her, Finch took a sharp left, ducking down an alley. He put on extra speed, ensuring more space between them. As she struggled to catch up, he tripped over a fallen garbage can, landing face-first on the pavement.
"Wait!" she yelled as he struggled to push himself to his feet.
He fell back down before ever reaching his full height.
"I said stop!" she said.
But, then she realized she didn't have any weapon, any training, any way to contact Casey to tell him where she was because she'd left her purse at her table when the guy with the knife escorted her to Chuck. She swallowed hard.
"All right, all right," he said, holding his hands up in surrender, cowering from her, his eyes on the ground between them. "It... I... Just don't shoot me, okay?"
Ellie nodded slowly. "If you take me to the physicist, I won't shoot you." She guessed he didn't have to know that she had absolutely no way of shooting him. He must've thought she did, though. Maybe it was the darkness. Maybe it was the power of suggestion. Maybe she should've said 'freeze' instead. Did spies use the word freeze? She inhaled slowly, thinking about... cooling racks on her kitchen counter with something deliciously fresh baked resting on them.
"All right," he said, finally chancing a look at her.
Ellie rested her right hand at her side, hoping it looked like maybe she had been holding some kind of weapon.
"This way," he said, leading her further down the alley.
Casey surveyed their surroundings, nodding. It was on-par damage-wise. A crack clean-up unit could have the club back to normal in no time.
But, there were sirens fast approaching in the distance.
"I've got damage control with the LAPD," Sarah said, brushing off the sleeve of her shirt.
"Chuck, get Ellie out of here. I'll wait with Yi until we've got a containment team," Casey said, wiping the blood from his knuckles on the backs of his slacks.
"Good idea," Chuck said. But, there was just one problem with that. "Uh... Where is she?"
Casey's eyes went immediately to the walls, to the corners, to the overturned tables, where she might've taken cover. He didn't see her.
"Finch isn't here either," Chuck noted.
Casey felt his stomach hit his knees. "The van..."
"What?"
"We can activate Ellie's watch from the van, provided Finch wasn't smart enough to take it off her," Casey said, already halfway across the floor.
"But, what about Yi?" Chuck called out after him, torn between running with Casey and leaving a highly-dangerous nuclear terrorist by himself.
Granted, he was knocked out, but still.
Casey didn't stop until he reached the back of the van, nearly yanking the door off its track as he slid the side door open. His fingers felt heavy, clumsy as he typed in the security codes and appropriate commands to activate the GPS locator in Ellie's watch.
He wasn't sure if the fact that she was close was comforting or not.
Grabbing the laptop from the counter, he set it in the passenger seat and got behind the wheel, cranking the engine.
The tires squealed as he laid rubber around the club, zipping past the approaching police cruisers and heading for a nearby parking structure.
He almost didn't hear the questioning voice in his ear over the deafening sound of his troublesome thoughts.
"Casey?"
He swallowed hard. "Walker, I think Finch has Ellie. In pursuit."
"Chuck with you?"
"No."
"You should've waited for one of us-"
"No time," he interrupted. "Finch nabbed the physicist in a matter of seconds. You've seen the security tapes. If he knows we're onto him, I'm sure he's got the resources to vanish and I will not let that happ..." He drifted off.
"Casey?"
He didn't respond. He just slammed the breaks, stopping the van. Throwing the vehicle into park, he jumped out.
"Casey!" she said more forcefully.
Ellie didn't gasp when Finch popped the trunk of his silver Mercedes to reveal a gaunt-looking man within. The man looked like he'd been through hell and back. She didn't imagine it was so luxurious in a luxury car's trunk.
She moved forward, her fingers finding his pulse in his wrist. "My name is Ellie and I'm a doctor. Can you tell me your name?"
He tried to get his mouth to move, but his lips stuck together at first. "Nathan," he said finally. "Nathan Y-York."
His pulse was elevated. "Nathan, do you know how long you've been in the car?"
He shook his head slowly as Ellie turned his hand over.
She lightly pinched the skin on the back of his hand, trying to determine the exact extent of his dehydration. She only nodded a little at the results. He was going to need an IV, get some fluids back in him. But, she didn't want to get him out of the car, not without having somewhere to put him, preferably on an ambulance gurney. He was going to need immediate treatment. "You're going to be okay," she promised. "Just lie still until more help arrives, all right?"
Finch, who was pacing back and forth beside the car, running his fingers repeatedly through his hair, suddenly stopped walking. "Wait a second..."
Ellie glanced at him.
"You said... You just said you're a doctor?"
"That's right," Ellie said slowly, not sure why that was such a big revelation.
"You're not... You're not some fed?"
Ellie tried not to let the fear reach her face. Her fast-and-loose agreement in the alley was about to become not so agreeable. "Stay where you are," she said, hoping she still had that authoritative edge to her voice.
"You're... who are you, lady? Huh?" he said, advancing on her.
She started backing up slowly. "Listen, if you would just-"
"No, you listen!" he said. "You aren't some cop, you aren't some agent... you aren't going to arrest me, you're some freakin' nurse?"
"Doctor," Ellie corrected.
"You-"
Before he could finish, Ellie saw headlights reflecting off the other cars in the lot. She saw them reflecting quickly off one car and then another, all the way down the line. And then she heard the screeching of the tires as the breaks were hit.
Both she and Finch looked at the nondescript black van, watching as Casey emerged from the driver's side.
"On your knees," he said, his gun aimed squarely at Finch.
Finch just shook his head, scoffing.
Casey wasn't playing. "Right now," he said, cocking the weapon. Casey knew, from the events at the club, that he was no soldier, no hero. He was just an empty suit, a guy with a so-called brilliant idea.
Finch hit his knees.
Casey set about handcuffing him. "You okay, Doc?"
She nodded.
Casey lifted his watch to his lips. "Got Finch. Ellie, too."
"And Nathan York," Ellie said, moving towards the trunk.
Casey yanked Finch off the ground with more force than was necessary, glancing over at the physicist in the car.
"He's seriously dehydrated. He needs to get to a hospital."
Casey reached into the pocket of his slacks, pulling out his phone and tossing it to her. "Westside is the closest hospital. There's rudimentary medical equipment in the back of the van if you need it."
Ellie smiled a little, opening the phone and dialing her ER.
General Diane Beckman removed her glasses slowly after having read the mission report. She glanced at her computer screen, seeing the faces of her crack-shot team within the protective confines of the Castle. "This mission was designed to rescue a kidnapped scientist, taking one broker and one mid-level buyer... and that wasn't enough for you three. You throw in one of our most wanted for good measure."
"Well, y'know... clearly, Casey's good for Team Bartowski," Chuck said with a grin.
Beckman nodded. "And to be your first mission back since your incident, Colonel. I am most impressed."
"It wasn't just the three of us, General," Casey said. "We might've missed out on rescuing Dr. York and apprehending Finch if it wasn't for Chuck's sister, Ellie Bartowski."
Beckman slid her glasses back on, looking again at the report in her hands. "I am well aware of her contributions, Colonel. Your report was very thorough about her assistance. I'd like an opportunity to thank her personally."
"Given that she's aware of our situation, I'm sure we can arrange a debriefing for her," Sarah said, "while keeping the sanctity of Castle for intelligence officers only."
Ellie sat on the couch in Casey's apartment, looking at the black screen with the logo for the Directorate of National Intelligence. She'd just spoken with their boss, with their commanding officer. She'd been given the thanks of a grateful nation.
The whole thing had been overwhelming.
All she'd done was her job. And something potentially stupid and reckless, but mostly just her job. Dr. York was on his way to recovery, and the world could go back to sleeping a little easier at night.
Except, no one else in the world knew that they'd thwarted a potential nuclear danger. And no one ever would.
Casey lingered in the kitchen, watching her. "Ellie...?"
She glanced up at him. "Can I ask you something?"
He nodded.
"I saw Chuck do things... things he shouldn't have been able to do."
"It's classified."
"Just... there's no way he had the training necessary to do what he did. That kind of thing takes years and years and... decades, really."
"I can't tell you why or how or... anything about it. It'd be best if you just forgot that you saw that."
"My brother turned into Ryu from Street Fighter. How am I supposed to forget that?"
He shrugged a little.
She chewed on her lower lip as he slowly crossed towards her, sitting down on the opposite end of the couch. "Whatever it is, that's why you're here, isn't it? Why you've been here, why you've... been assigned here...?"
He dodged the question. "You handled yourself well."
"Oh, yeah," she said with a laugh. "I'm getting really good at being held hostage. What is it, twice, now? I must be reaching the high score."
Casey smiled but shook his head. "There was only one thing that... that wasn't right."
Ellie put on her best "Casey" voice. "'Don't run off like that, not where I can't protect you...'"
He shook his head. Hesitantly, he reached out, taking her hand. It looked small compared to his, delicate. "You're worth a great deal to Chuck. To me. Don't forget that," he said, looking up at her again.
She was shocked at the wealth of emotion in his eyes, at the fear, at the concern, at the love that was all wrapped up into one tangled expression. "John..." She was even more shocked at how quickly he shoved it all aside.
"And, next time, when I tell you to leave, please leave."
"Now, hold on," she said, turning on the couch, to sit facing him straight-on. "I did exactly what you asked, which was convince the girls to leave. It was just... they decided I should stay."
"Why?"
"They think that you have the potential to make me happy. And they want me to be happy."
"What do you want?" he asked.
There was an undercurrent of hesitance in his voice, the very edges of that tangled, emotional mess was trying to tumble back into his eyes.
"I..." She swallowed hard. "I want you..." She cleared her throat. "I want you to tell your daughter someday-sooner rather than later-who you are. Who you really are. Not the spy stuff, but the important stuff. The father stuff."
He nodded slowly. "I will."
"And... I want to know where I can get self-defense classes. Because, it's more than clear that being around you and Chuck is rather dangerous to my health and I'm going to need some more of my own skills, just in case."
"I can help there, if you'd like."
"I would like that. Very much." She flipped his hand over in hers, letting her fingertips graze over his skin lightly. "It's just... This has been a lot to process. Nothing is quite... the same... anymore. No matter how much I want it to be like it was, it can't be. There's this new threshold for 'normal' and I just... I just have to get used to it. And it may take time," she said, glancing up at him.
He nodded.
"But... y'know, this new normal thing..." She laced her fingers with his. "Doesn't change how I feel about you."
He smiled broadly.
One thing he hated was this kind of a detail. The hurry-up-and-wait aspects of the job were terrible. He'd give anything just to be done with it. As he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, he realized he just didn't have the patience for a stakeout.
The parking lot of Westside Medical Center remained fairly busy on a Friday night. There were a couple smokers sitting on the curb. An anxious family milled about on the sidewalk. Logistically, it was a nightmare.
But, again, with the hurry-up-and-wait aspects, this was just a preliminary step. He'd love to just jump in and be done with it. He knew, however, that his boss would be less than pleased if he tipped their hand too early. There was a purpose, a plan, one that had to be executed with surgical precision.
So, as much as he hated to wait, he would do exactly that.
He chuckled as he spotted a late-model black four-door sedan pull into the parking lot, taking an empty spot near the door. It was practically a boat of a car. Idly, he wondered how something like that gas hog could still be roaming California's blacktops. Didn't that pose a threat to the environment?
Because curiosity got the better of him, he lifted his binoculars and watched as the occupant of the car emerged. The man was tall, with black slacks and a pale green oxford.
He lowered the specs immediately, recognizing the man. "Son of a bitch," he muttered under his breath.
John Casey reached back into his car, pulling out a bouquet of brightly colored lilies, hued in brilliant yellows and oranges. Closing his door, he headed for the hospital.
He never would've figured the hard-ass Marine would be much of one for bringing flowers to a fallen colleague. And he'd have known if someone from his team was hurt. Sarah Walker was working a late-shift at the "yogurt shop" and Chuck Bartowski was home.
As soon as he disappeared into the hospital, he glanced at his watch, making note of the time. His mark should be showing up any time now.
He glanced at the file folder in the empty seat next to him. A recent divorcee, the doctor was stunningly beautiful. How she could be of any relation to Chuck was beyond him.
He watched as the smokers finally put out their butts before heading back inside, as the family made another round of phone calls and exchanged hugs and supportive pats on the back. He wasn't too happy when an ambulance pulled up, partially blocking his view of the exit.
But, it was ten minutes later when he saw John Casey emerge from the ER again. He was no longer carrying the flowers. The woman on his arm was. She wore a purple jewel-tone cocktail dress and sensible heels, her long dark hair down around her shoulders.
"I'll be damned," he muttered.
John Casey had brought flowers to his mark.
Pulling out his cell phone, he called a number on his speed dial. He didn't have to wait long for the person to answer. "It's Sullivan. We have a problem."
The voice on the other end sighed. "And what problem is that, Justin?"
"Our original plan to use Ellie isn't going to work. Apparently, she wasn't lonely long."
Stay tuned...
Lines from the next story, Chuck versus the Second Chance:
As he descended the stairs, he slowed down, spotting Beckman in the center of the room. "General?"
"Colonel Casey..."
He glanced at Sarah and Chuck, who were both leaning against the wall, their arms crossed over their chests. "What's going on?"
"Colonel Casey, you are under arrest," said one of Beckman's detail, approaching the larger man with a set of handcuffs.
"On what charge?" he demanded. He didn't back up the stairs. He remained still, but he wanted to know what the hell he was being arrested for.
The large screen at the front of the room filled with the evidence photos Sarah had been trying to sort out before Beckman arrived. The photos rotated. A broken window. Clear signs of struggle, overturned furniture. Bloodstained carpeting. The glass smashed in a framed photograph of a teenage girl and her mother.
Casey's fear was all-consuming as he recognized the girl in the photo. "Alex?" He looked at Sarah. "Something happened to Alex? Where is she!"
"That's what we're hoping you can tell us, Colonel. Since the CIA is reporting that you took her," Beckman said coldly.