Chapter 3 – Under Pressure

"Willem Dafoe, eat your heart out," Laszlo smirked as he started to run, just before a bullet clipped his leg and he stumbled.

"You're no Osborn, and I ain't Spider-Man. So I got no problem with putting a bullet through your brain. In fact, I'm gettin' a little twitchy seeing as how I ain't shot anybody in awhile. Tell me where the other bomb is, egghead, or I might just go Punisher on you," Casey snarled, pressing the hot barrel to the back of Laszlo's head.

"Chuck, you get anything," Sarah questioned as her asset stood in front of Morgan, trying to figure out the C4 strapped to his chest.

"No," Chuck gritted out, looking at the wires and trying to ignore the quickly decreasing time limit. Looking to the side of the display, he noticed a serial number, SD6.

A red-tinted image of the American flag.

Schematics for the dismantling of an SD6-series bomb.

The American flag.

"Casey! Toss me the trigger!"

Casey looked at Chuck for a moment like he'd lost his mind, shoving Laszlo down on the wooden slats of the boardwalk.

"Now, Casey," Chuck shouted, trying to put as much urgency and command into his voice as he could muster. Without a second thought, Casey grabbed the remote detonator from where Laszlo dropped it and tossed an underhanded throw, landing the device right in Chuck's hands. Chuck dropped to the ground and cracked the housing open. Glancing at the timer, he opened the remote and found the microprocessor inside. Pulling the miniature screwdriver from his shirt pocket, Chuck loosened the wires attached to the signal relay and then crossed them. Pushing the button, he let go of the breath he'd been holding as the counter stopped at two seconds.

"You flashed," Sarah asked with an amazed smile, helping Morgan out of the vest.

"Yeah," Chuck panted, his brow furrowed. "I think so."

Casey glanced over to where Sarah and Chuck were huddled close together, no doubt discussing their lady feelings. The Major had spent the better part of two years protecting the moron and listening to his nattering on to anyone that would pay attention, which didn't include Casey.

As he glanced over at Morgan, he had to admit that Bartowski did good work. He'd saved the mini-geek's life. With quick thinking, and no doubt more than a little help from the Intersect, Chuck had managed to defuse two bombs. At this point, the geek was racking up a better tally for bomb disposal than he was.

"I hate this assignment," Casey groused as he oversaw the cleanup crew.

People on streets - ee da de da de da de da
It's the terror of knowing
What this world is about

"Are you going to go talk to Morgan," Sarah asked as she leaned against the rail next to Chuck. He paused from listening to the music to look over at her wearily.

"And tell him what? Sorry for almost getting you killed?"

Watching some good friends
Screaming 'Let me out'
Pray tomorrow - gets me higher high high
Pressure on people - people on streets

"It's not your fault, Chuck," Sarah said, laying a hand on his arm.

Turned away from it all like a blind man
Sat on a fence but it don't work
Keep coming up with love
but it's so slashed and torn

"Actually, it is. Laszlo wanted to hurt me because I betrayed him. So he tried to kill my best friend. How exactly is that not my fault?"

"You didn't turn Laszlo into a monster and you didn't put a bomb on Morgan. You saved his life," she replied, strongly emphasizing his heroism. "You're a hero, Chuck, and I think Morgan, of all people, will recognize that."

Why - why - why ?
Love love love love love
Insanity laughs under pressure we're cracking

"Even if you can't," she finished with a soft smile, her eyes looking on him kindly as his gaze was fixed on his shaken friend.

Can't we give ourselves one more chance

With his hands in his pockets and his head bowed slightly, Chuck stepped over to where Casey was debriefing Morgan.

"… and you know what that means if this gets out, right?"

"No more grape soda?"

"That's right," Casey growled and glared at Chuck. "He's all yours, Bartowski. Beat some sense into him. Please."

"You okay," Chuck asked after a long, awkward pause.

"Yeah. Nearly getting blown up, not exactly on my to-do list for today…."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Chuck replied, scuffing his shoe on the wooden plank beneath his foot. "Nearly getting you killed wasn't on mine either."

Morgan looked up and for the first time saw the weight that had rested on his friend's shoulders for the last year and a half, for the first time realizing what it was.

"So do you have a codename?"

Chuck looked up at him, befuddled.

"What?"

"You know, like Snake-Eyes? Duke? Ooh, or a number? Oh one oh?"

Sarah smiled as she watched Chuck and Morgan talking at the end of the boardwalk. Morgan was gesticulating wildly, enthused about something and Chuck was just beaming. Sarah couldn't say much about Morgan, but one thing he definitely could be called was resilient. She looked down as her phone rang and saw the General calling.

"Walker, secure."

"I understand the Laszlo situation has been resolved."

"Yes, Chuck was able to defuse the bomb. Morgan Grimes has been partially compromised, but I believe it's not a problem. We can handle it."

There was a pause that began to form a knot of worry in Sarah's stomach.

"How exactly did the asset defuse the bomb," the General asked guardedly, throwing up a warning signal in Sarah's mind.

"I believe he flashed on it, General. He was able to crack open the housing on the trigger and give it an override command."

"I wasn't aware that Mister Bartowski had knowledge of proper bomb disposal."

"He doesn't," Sarah answered, the knot in her stomach intensifying. "Is there a problem?"

The long pause didn't help to settle her worries.

"No. Keep an eye on the asset's friend. Make sure he doesn't talk."

Sarah frowned as she hung up the phone and watched Chuck's loquacious friend excitedly gesturing with his hands, pantomiming something exploding.

"Morgan, not talk? Yeah right," she murmured. When Chuck looked her way and gave her his most endearing smile, telling her everything was okay, all she could do was smile in return, and lie.

Vincent winced as the piece of shrapnel lodged in his cheek shifted and he looked back up at the leaders of the Ring shrouded in darkness.

"Manhovski will be dealt with," Svarog stated.

"Understood. As it turned out, Mister Manhovski made it very easy to find him again. After an ill-advised attempt to destroy a Los Angeles pier, he was apprehended by the CIA."

"Contact Manhovski again," Artemis ordered. "See what he knows about Carmichael, if anything. If he won't work with us, or deliver Agent Walker, kill him."

"I knew there was something off about that guy," Morgan exclaimed, causing Chuck to smile. They had left the pier for the safety of the Buy More where Morgan was working out his scheduled shift, following a scolding from Big Mike.

"I mean Casey is all sorts of creepy and totally obsessed with you. I always thought he was aiming for the best friend position, but never realized he was… double oh scary."

"Yeah, you should probably keep that down," Chuck said, glancing around to make sure no one was listening to their conversation.

"Sorry Chuck," Morgan replied, also glancing around but in a much less surreptitious manner. "This spy stuff is new to me."

"Well, it usually helps if you don't mention it every five minutes," Chuck replied with a furtive grin.

"Sorry," Morgan replied, and went back to leaning against the Nerd Herder desk, scanning the room with his tough guy look.

"What's wrong with him," Casey asked, walking up to the desk and looking at Morgan.

"I'm keeping an eye out," Morgan replied in a conspiratorial tone.

"You look constipated," Casey smirked and then looked at Chuck. "Come on, we got a debriefing."

Casey headed off to the Orange Orange with Chuck in tow, only to realize that Morgan had tagged along a moment later.

"Hey, where we going?"

"You're going back to work," Casey stated and gave him a shove back towards the store.

"C'mon! I'm part of the team now, right?"

Chuck looked at Casey with a bit of apprehension and hope. He wasn't sure what was going to happen with his little buddy now and neither Sarah nor Casey had given any indication.

"If we need someone to piss his pants and Chuckles isn't available, we'll let you know," Casey smirked and pointed back to the store. "Now, get lost."

Chuck frowned as Morgan turned and started walking back, bringing back memories of him being left out when the kids at school played sports at recess. He had that same look, the slumped shoulders, sad pout and doleful eyes. So Chuck did the only thing he could do, the same thing that he'd done since they were kids.

"Morgan?"

"Yeah, Chuck," Morgan replied, turning around, looking hopeful.

"Cry uncle?"

Morgan's grin wasn't as wide as it used to be, not as reassuring, but it was there.

"You're on."

"What was that about," Casey asked, narrowing his eyes at Chuck as they turned back to the Orange Orange.

"Oh, nothing," Chuck replied with an enigmatic smile. "Just spy talk."

Sarah sat at the table cleaning her gun. To Casey, she looked focused on what she was doing. To Chuck, she looked worried.

"Hey Sarah," Chuck beamed at her, sitting down across the table. "How 'bout Morgan, huh! I think he's doing fine with this whole spy thing."

"I'm sure," Sarah replied with a practiced smile, sliding the clip back into her gun. Chuck frowned slightly at her clipped response and trademark masked expression, always hiding something behind a gentle gaze and a sweet smile. He had grown accustomed to that look, the one he nicknamed 'the Sarah.' He associated it with her protecting him from things she thought he shouldn't know. The one that let him know that when she said things were going to be fine, she wasn't convinced they would be. As much as he disliked that look sometimes, it paled in comparison for how he loathed 'the Agent Walker.' That blank, emotionless mask she used whenever anything resembling true feelings might emerge. Because at least with the Sarah, it showed that she cared.

Chuck looked up as the monitor came on and showed General Beckman at her desk, eyes narrowed and looking over the group until her gaze came to rest on him.

"Mister Bartowski," she stated in that scolding tone that reminded him of his sixth-grade English teacher, Miss Cavendish. "I understand that you have yet again endangered yourself and the Intersect by attempting to disarm a bomb. This kind of reckless behavior will force me to put you in a bunker if you cannot control these impulses."

"With all due respect General, I didn't attempt to disarm a bomb. I did disarm it," Chuck replied indignantly. "Secondly, I saved the lives of everyone on that pier, including Sarah and Casey. I never ask for anything, General, but a thank you for once would be… nice."

"And how did you disarm the bomb," the General asked, ignoring his objection.

"I… I just flashed," he answered, looking over at Sarah and sighing when he saw the Agent Walker firmly in place.

"Which is not something that the Intersect was built to do," Beckman replied. "Raw data was programmed into that computer. Not a given skill-set."

Chuck managed to shrug, making it a lot more casual than he felt.

"I don't know what to tell you, General. I flashed and it showed me the schematics for the bomb and how to disarm it. I knew how to save my friends and so I took that chance. I'm sorry to risk your precious Intersect, but I can't just… stay in the car when the people I care about are threatened."

The General stared at him evenly for a long time before responding.

"Thank you, Mister Bartowski. That will be all."

"Is that a thank you for saving the day," Chuck asked, sounding a little cheekier and braver than he actually felt. The sound of a suppressed snort from Casey just helped ease the knot in his stomach.

"You are dismissed," the General gritted out, pushing back her frustration at the asset as Chuck rose. He glanced at his friends, encouraged by what he was pretty sure was pride on Casey's face, and disheartened by seeing the Agent Walker on Sarah's. Shoulders slumped, Chuck headed up the stairs and back to work.

"The asset is becoming a serious problem," the General stated to the two agents standing at attention now. "Now, can you keep him under control or not?"

"General, Chuck is very dedicated to his family and friends. I believe that it's not a lack of impulse control on his part. It's having… too many principles," Sarah explained, trying not to let the wistfulness be heard in her voice. "Chuck's a good man. He won't stop throwing himself into things whenever I'm…."

She paused and glanced at Casey.

"Whenever either of us are endangered."

"Then I see no option other than to put the asset into 24-hour custody. Major Casey, I want-"

"General, I apologize, but I don't think that's a viable option either," Sarah interjected. "Chuck is too… attached to his life here. If he were taken away from his friends and his sister, I don't think he'd be cooperative or receptive to aiding us like he has been the past year."

"Then what do you recommend, Agent Walker," Beckman asked with no small amount of irritation in her voice. "We cannot have the Intersect lost because of… a civilian's delusions of grandeur."

"I'm not exactly sure delusions of grandeur is…" Sarah began to object, but trailed off at the look the General was giving her. "My point is that Chuck is willing to risk his own life for ours. If he had something more to risk, then I think he wouldn't be so prone to jumping into conflicts."

"What do you propose," Beckman asked guardedly.

"Chuck has on more than one occasion pointed out that he's doing this for free. If he was brought on board, then he'd be risking his job by going into the field. Chuck is a very dedicated individual, he takes his work seriously."

"Are you recommending Chuck Bartowski for the CIA," Beckman asked with a little incredulity.

"No ma'am. FBI Cyber Division. I have a friend in the Bureau and I know that they're interested in the Intersect project. If Chuck could be placed in Cyber Division, he'd have a sense of being able to do some good. He could protect the country against hackers and viruses, things he's been doing for the last five years but for the general public."

"And it means we'd have access to the FBI databases as well," Beckman said thoughtfully. "I'll give it some consideration, Agent Walker. Very well, for the time being, Chuck remains there. Consider yourselves benched until I get an answer from the Bureau. I don't want the Intersect risking himself on another mission if we can avoid it."

"Yes ma'am," Sarah and Casey replied, the former gratefully, the latter resignedly.

Chuck closed the door behind him and smiled on seeing his sister and Captain Awesome reclining on the sofa.

"Hey Chuck. Good day at work?"

"Hey sis," Chuck sighed and dropped his satchel at the end of the sofa. "Stressful. Evil geniuses, bombs, friends in danger. The usual."

"Uh-huh. Speaking of, Morgan's in your room and if he keeps coming in through that window, he's going to be in danger."

"I'll talk to him," Chuck said with a smile, heading down the hall. Stepping inside, he saw Morgan loading the first disc of the Man from U.N.C.L.E. complete series.

"Chuck, we are on for the Double Affair."

"Ah yes. The notorious THRUSH agent replacing Solo through plastic surgery."

"Yep, gotta love a classic! Then, the Project Strigas Affair."

Chuck smiled and flopped onto his bed.

"With Shatner and Nimoy! God, I'd almost forgotten about that episode."

"I still say Next Gen is better than TOS."

"Don't make me hurt you," Chuck grumped and started up the U.N.C.L.E. marathon.

"Day day de mm hm… dad a dab ba ba… chippin' around- kick my brains around the floor," Laszlo hummed as he was led into the interrogation cell.

"These are the days it never rains but it pours," he finished with an umph as he was shoved into a chair. "Nice talkin' to ya!"

Laszlo smirked at his jailor before looking up briefly at his visitor. Scratching the red sore forming around his wrist from where the handcuffs were chaffing, he smiled with a slightly unhinged look to his bloodshot eyes.

"You ever had a song stuck in your head? Just tumbling around in there and no matter what you do you can't take a drill to it and release the bad humours? Did you bring one with you? Or a trephine? I'll settle for that. Is that how you're gonna bust me out this time? Drill through the walls?"

"That depends on you, Mister Manhovski," Vincent replied and slid a couple pictures across the table. "It depends on what you can tell me about this man."

Laszlo took one look at the picture taken of Chuck at the Meadow Branch subdivision and a picture taken at the pier. He looked back up at Vincent and smiled.