Do I really have to keep saying it? Still don't own either one.

By the way, I have been to Miami a grand total of once in my life, for about 24 hours, so I apologize for any errors of geography with regard to the Miami area.

Thanks again to Poa for proofreading Chapter 5.

Now on to…

CHUCK VERSUS THE BURN NOTICE

CHAPTER 6

Little Girls Lost

Chuck and Sarah had breakfast with Ellie and Awesome in the suite – some of Ellie's ham, cheese and mushroom omelets. "So what's the plan today?" Chuck asked.

"Well," Ellie said, "I thought that you boys could take your two favorite girls shopping."

Chuck looked over at Devon with a puzzled expression. "But won't we have to go to LA for that?"

"Going shopping?" Devon asked.

"Getting our two favorite girls," Chuck teased.

Sarah gave him a playful slap on the arm and Ellie gave him an exasperated look.

"Gonna be sleepin' on the couch, bro," Devon warned.

Sarah faked looking a little nervous. "Actually, Ellie, we can go shopping this morning, but I have a surprise for Chuck this evening, if you don't mind."

"Details, Sarah, details," Awesome asked.

"Well, you know we love spending time with you guys," she said. "But Chuck and I don't really get to spend all that much time alone…"

"Yeah?" Ellie asked, with rising excitement. She was very in favor of anything that sounded remotely like advancing Chuck and Sarah's relationship.

"I learned to sail when I was back in D.C. …" she turned and looked at Chuck. "I hope you don't mind but I rented us a little sailboat. I thought we could sail out this evening and spend the night on the water." She bit her bottom lip and looked as Chuck, just like a girlfriend would when springing a potentially unwanted surprise on her boyfriend.

Ellie squealed. "Oh, Sarah, that sounds so romantic!" Her expression suddenly turned serious as she looked at Chuck. "Make sure you take your Dramamine Chuck." Then she turned back to Sara and was giggly girl once again, "That is such a neat idea! You're going to have such a wonderful time."

Chuck looked a little confused, but he smiled at Sarah. "Sounds like fun, sweetie."

After finishing up the breakfast dishes, they repaired to their respective bedrooms to get ready for the shopping expedition.

Chuck turned to Sarah. "Did you really get a sailboat?"

Sarah gave him a look that said, 'use your head, Chuck.' "Of course not," she said. "But this operation with Michael Westen and Carina is going to take awhile and we'll be out at least one night. We needed a cover story so we could get away from Ellie and Devon and they wouldn't wonder where we were."

Chuck managed to look both relieved and a little disappointed. "Good," he said half-heartedly. "I get seasick."

After getting ready, they went down to South Beach where Ellie dragged Sarah through shop after shop, which Chuck and Devon trailed along behind, carrying the bags.

"Not a comic book or video game store anywhere in sight," Chuck whined to Awesome as they trudged through their two hundredth (or so it seemed to Chuck) clothing store. Inwardly, Chuck was having a hard time keeping up the charade of 'supportive boyfriend of shopper.' He couldn't stop thinking about the mission. About Sarah risking her life. Why did he ever agree to this Miami vacation? It had seemed like such a good idea at the time: a chance for him and Sarah to get away from all the spy stuff and just spend some time together like normal people. But Spy World had followed them, even all the way to the other side of the country.

Sarah, on the other hand, was more worried about the shopping trip than the mission. Every minute that she spent with Ellie doing "girl stuff" was harder for her than taking down a terrorist cell in Pakistan. She didn't have any experience doing the "girl stuff." She had never been in one place long enough growing up to have any really close friends; besides, her father discouraged her getting too close to anyone lest they be 'found out.' Keeping up her cover as a 'normal girl' was more exhausting than any other mission. Yet, it was also hard not to enjoy Ellie's company. Ellie was so energetic, so caring, and so obviously delighted at getting to spend time with Sarah that it was a little infectious. A part of her longed to make this kind of life permanent. To have, as she told Casey, 'a normal life, family, children.' Yet she knew that Chuck was right. She never had been normal and she never would be normal.

"Sarah," Ellie said, holding up a blouse. "This would look so cute on you." Sarah smiled and gushed, keeping up the deception that was becoming harder and harder to maintain.

They had lunch at a little outdoor café overlooking the beach, and afterwards, Sarah made a show of looking at her watch. "Chuck? We should probably get going. We have to pick up the boat by three and we have to get back to the condo and drop off these bags and pick up our overnight bags."

"We'll come with you," Ellie said.

"No. No. You keep shopping," Sarah said. "I don't want you to have to stop on our account."

"You know, I did see a lingerie shop down the street," Devon said with a smile.

Casey was waiting for them in the Suburban the next block over. "We need to drop off the bags at the condo, or Ellie will be suspicious," Sarah said.

"I'm on it," Casey said, pulling away from the curb.

They dropped the bags and quickly grabbed the overnight bags that Sarah had packed for them the night before, then headed over to meet with Michael, Fiona, Sam, and Carina. It was time to put Michael's plan into effect.

************************************************

Michael opened the door when Casey knocked. He was all business. "We have some solid intel from the bug. Enough, at least, to get started. Fortunately, Obregon conducts most of his business from his car."

"How's the GPS tracker working?" Chuck asked.

"Perfect," Michael said. "Good work on that, Charles."

"Call me Chuck," Chuck said with a smile.

Michael turned to Sarah. "Carina is already upstairs getting ready. Fiona is giving her a hand."

"On it," Sarah said, and brushed past him to head upstairs.

"Casey," Sam said, popping open a beer as he walked over from the refrigerator. "You ready?" Sam was dressed similar to Casey in typical 'G-man' attire of dark suit, dark tie, and well-shined shoes. "We should take your car. It looks more government issue than mine."

"Let's go," Casey said. He turned to Chuck before he walked out the door. "You, Carmichael. You stay here. You don't leave, you don't call anyone other than me, you don't answer the door. Got it?"

"Yes, Casey," Chuck said. "I think I'm familiar with the concept of 'stay in the car.'"

"Concept isn't the problem," Casey said. "It's execution where you fall down."

He and Sam turned and left. Once they were out the door and headed down the stairs, Sam turned to Casey. "You could have warned me about Carina, you know?"

Casey almost smiled. "They say experience is the best teacher, Sam. Besides, I still owed you for that 'girl' in Istanbul."

"I forgot about him," Sam said, slapping Casey on the back. "Wish I had pictures of that one."

Casey merely grunted.

Sarah went upstairs and started to change. She noticed that Carina and Fiona, who were a little frosty toward each other the day before, seemed to have bonded a bit over something. "You two are certainly getting along better."

"Oh, Carina did me a favor, yesterday," Fiona said. "She helped me get back at Sam for some of his… past indiscretions."

Sarah looked over at Carina and grinned. "You didn't," she said. "Prague?"

Carina nodded. "Prague."

While they continued to get ready, Michael was downstairs talking to Chuck. "I sewed the mini GPS transceiver in the hem of Sarah's shirt." He looked Chuck in the eye. "You know she's gonna be all right? Fi will take care of her."

"Yeah," Chuck said, looking up toward the loft. "Sarah's pretty good about taking care of herself, too." He looked back to Michael. "I just worry about her, you know?"

Michael clapped a hand on Chuck's shoulder. "I know exactly what you mean," Michael said. "Fiona's tougher than most guys I know, but I still worry about her, too." He spared a quick glance up at the loft himself, then turned back to Chuck. "Anyway, Chuck. You're going to be communications. Here's a cell with my, Fiona's and Sam's numbers programmed into it. You can call Casey on it, too. It's off-grid so your calls won't be traced. This one is connected to the cell in Obregon's car. I disconnected the microphone in it so Obregon won't hear anything on this end. This little mike on the side," he indicated a button mike attached to the phone, with a wire trailing down to the worktable," is connected to this recorder so we can get Carina her tapes. Make sure you change the tape when it's about to get full. Don't use the back side of the tape. Change it out when it gets close to the end."

"Change the tape. Don't use the back side. Got it," Chuck said.

"Call me or Sam…"

"Or Casey," Chuck added.

"Or Casey if you hear anything important," Michael said.

"We're ready, Michael," Fiona said, coming down the stairs. She was dressed in a severe business suit, but one which clung closely to her figure, and had her hair pulled back in a tight bun. Behind her, already in character, Sarah and Carina (now Stacey and Brittany) walked with hunched shoulders and darting, nervous expressions.

Chuck felt his chest constrict. He wanted to run over to Sarah and tell her not to go through with it. Or at least to tell her to be careful. Something warned him away, however. Somehow, he knew that she would go, whatever he said, and that whatever he said would just make her job, her mission harder.

Sarah tried not to look at Chuck, but she couldn't help stealing a glance at him. The pain in his eyes was almost unbearable. It was all she could do not to run over to him and throw her arms around her and have him hold her one last time, just in case it was the last time. She forced herself to look down, like a good prisoner would. It helped that, right then, she felt more like a prisoner that ever before in her life. As prisoner of what, however, she would be hard pressed to say.

"My brother Nate got us a panel truck," Michael told Fiona. "It's parked down the street. You can use that for… the girls."

"My meeting with Obregon is in thirty minutes," Fiona said. "Wish us luck, Michael."

"Good luck, Fi."

"Good luck, Sarah," Chuck whispered, his voice catching as he did.

Though she gave no indication, Sarah caught every word.

Once they were out the door, Chuck turned to Michael. "Promise me this is going to work."

Michael forced himself to sound much cheerier than he felt. "Relax, Chuck. We do this all the time. They're gonna be fine." But he couldn't help glancing back at the door.

Michael gathered up his gear and headed toward the door himself. "Lock the door behind me," Michael said to Chuck. "Don't open it for anyone."

"Got it," Chuck said.

Michael left and Chuck locked the door. The room suddenly seemed very, very empty. He walked over to the work table, pulled up a stool, and picked up the phone connected to the Obregon 'bug.'

**************************************

Enrique Obregon had plans. Big plans. The people running drugs in this town were idiots. Sure, all he had right now were a few girls acting as mules and a few disguised packages coming through customs, but he had ideas. Big ideas of how he was going to be on top. He saw the way that Carlos Menocal and Esteban Cespedes lived and he hungered for that lifestyle. More importantly, he hungered for that power.

If only the meeting with that Michael Westen hadn't gone sour. The man also had ideas. Ideas of how to bring in product in a way untraceable to Obregon. Lots of product. With product would come money. With money would come gunmen. And with gunmen would come power. Menocal and Cespedes may be on top for now, but Enrique knew that was only a temporary condition. Some day. Some day soon, he would be the King of Miami.

He looked at his watch. Vicente Martinez was a weasel, but he was good at moving product. And it was important to keep the underlings contented… at least as long as they were useful.

A panel van pulled into the parking lot where he waited in his car. The door opened and a striking, if severe-looking woman got out. She looked around carefully before tugging on her skirt and then walking over on her stiletto heels, steady despite the gravel parking lot. Obregon opened his door and got out, then leaned against the door of his car.

"Are you Enrique Obregon?" the woman asked.

"Who is asking?" he said.

"Candace Carson," the woman said. "Vicente Martinez sent me to meet with you. If you are Obregon, that is."

"What do you want?" Obregon asked. Martinez, of course, had told him, but it was best to let the other do most of the talking, at least at first.

"I am sure Vicente told you," Candace said. "My previous employer was… detained, and I am looking for a new business arrangement."

"What type of business arrangement, Candy?"

"Candace," the woman corrected him. "Let's say, I deal in livestock," she said. "Specifically, mules."

"So, I say again. What type of business arrangement are you looking for?"

"I recruit girls. Young, unattached women. The prettier ones I use for… entertainment. The ones who are not quite so pretty… Well, my previous employer convinced me that there was money to be made in using them to transport drugs. I make sure that they have passports, have no attachments, and are properly… conditioned. Vicente said that you might have use of such girls."

"I have my own recruiting methods," Obregon said. He was careful. So far he had said nothing that would prove he was a trafficker.

"Yes. So I've heard. The personal method. Yet that requires a significant investment in your time and, I have heard, sometimes you have run into… family troubles."

"Nothing I cannot handle."

"But you should not have to handle such things. That is where I can help."

"How do I know you're not a cop?" Obregon asked. "How do I know I can trust you?"

"I have a gift," Candace said. "A sign of my good faith." She walked over to the van and slid open the side door. Two young women, one brunette, the other auburn haired, huddled together. "Get out," Candace hissed.

The two girls got slowly out of the van and stood close together, facing Obregon. Obregon could see that they had the potential to be fairly pretty, but nothing that would command the high prices of the better escorts.

Obregon walked over and walked around the girls, looking them over. Despite the Florida heat, the two girls shivered. "A little skittish for this line of work," he said.

"They can be broken of that," Candace said. She held out two passports for Obregon. "So can we do business?"

"Perhaps," Obregon said. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. "Mano. Come to the parking lot. I have a pick up for you."

"If we are going to have an arrangement, I want certain assurances," Candace said. "I want to see where the girls are going to be kept."

"In due time," Enrique said. "I want to check you out, first."

Another van pulled up. Obviously, Obregon had backup standing by. "Take the girls to the safe house," Obregon told the beefy, bald driver that got out." The driver hustled the two girls into the van and slammed the door. The wheels of the van kicked up rocks as it pulled away.

"So you take my gift and spit in my face?" Candace asked, harshly.

Obregon covered the three steps between them rapidly and stuck his face close to hers. "If I spit in your face, bitch, you will know it. I said I was going to check you out and then I'd be in touch, and I will. For now, consider the girls insurance that you aren't trying to play me. Now get the hell out of here. I have other business."

It took every scrap of willpower Fiona had not to smash her knee into this troll's groin, but she steeled herself to play out her part. She turned abruptly, got in the van, and pulled out.

As soon as she was around the corner, she pulled out her cell phone. "Michael, we have a problem. He took Sarah and Carina."

*************************************

Another short chapter, but this seemed a like a good place to stop to add a little suspense. Okay, that and my kid just got home so no more writing for now.