Listen. Really. I'm willing to accept them, if they want to give them to me. They would make a nice birthday present. Or Christmas present. Or Groundhog's Day present. But until then, I still do not own Chuck or Burn Notice.

Great episode of Burn Notice last night (Thursday), by the way, which is why it's taken me longer to do this update. Just three more days until Chuck is back. I just have to go get my 3-D glasses. If I can find any. Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm a procrastinator.

Thanks again to my faithful proofreader Poa for more corrections for Chapter 7.

We now bring you…

CHUCK VERSUS THE BURN NOTICE

CHAPTER 8

Role Reversal

When Fiona called Michael to tell him the bad news - that they raided the safe house and found Sarah and Carina's clothes but nothing else - Michael immediately turned his car around and headed back to talk to Chuck. This was not the kind of news you deliver over the phone.

Michael pulled up outside the loft and got out. He pushed roughly past the people waiting in line for the club and slowly climbed the stairs. He was not looking forward to this. He banged on the door and Chuck opened it. Seeing the look on Michael's face, Chuck immediately asked, "What's wrong? Is Sarah okay?"

Michael led Chuck back in to the loft. "Chuck." He took a deep breath. "Sam, Fiona and Casey raided the house that Sarah's GPS locator led them to. They found Sarah and Carina's clothes, but no one was at the house."

Chuck staggered backward into the work table. "Chuck, listen. We don't know where they are, but we have no reason to think they're not all right. Obregon wouldn't have taken them just to hurt them. That would be bad business."

"Their clothes," Chuck whispered hoarsely.

"Chuck," Michael said. "Listen to me. One way to control a target is to take their clothes. People don't like running around in their underwear, so nine times out of ten they'll stay where you put them. This is probably just a way of controlling the girls so they don't try to get away."

"Sarah," Chuck whispered again.

Michael walked rapidly over to him and grabbed him by both arms. "Chuck! Sarah's going to need your help. This isn't helping her."

Chuck, who had been staring blankly at the floor, suddenly looked up at Michael. Michael involuntarily took a step back. There was a fire in the young man's eyes that surprised him.

Sarah would have recognized that look. The look was pure Charles Carmichael. "Do we have a plan?" Chuck asked.

Michael leaned on the workbench and put his head down. "I need to think. Obregon is a much harder character than I guessed." He slammed a hand against the table. "Dammit! I of all people shouldn't underestimate my opponent."

"Don't worry," Chuck said. "Obregon has underestimated Sarah and Carina, too. I trust Sarah. I trust her to get out of this in one piece." He looked over at the door, for what Michael couldn't guess. Then Chuck said, "But now... we need to talk."

###

Twenty minutes later, the door to the loft opened and Casey, Sam and Fiona walked in. Sam put a hand on Chuck's shoulder. "Sorry, kid. We'll get her back."

Fiona turned to Michael. "So Michael. What's the plan?"

"I have an idea," Chuck said. "We give Obregon a hostage."

"What?" Sam asked.

Chuck took a deep breath. "We need to know where Obregon has taken Sarah and Carina. We know he's not at the safe house you raided. How many safe houses can he have? I'm betting that he's only got one other. This isn't the CIA we're dealing with. He doesn't have safe houses scattered all over the city."

"Makes sense," Sam said. "But where does that get us?"

"I was listening in when Obregon asked Michael about his drug smuggling operation. Michael told him that he had the chief customs inspector at the Seaboard Marine terminal in his pocket. Obregon thinks Michael is blackmailing him, among others, to look the other way on shipments.

"What if the customs inspector was getting cold feet? He decided that he'd rather come clean about his affair or whatever rather than go to jail for aiding and abetting drug smugglers. So Michael needs more leverage. He has nabbed the inspector's son and the inspector goes along or Michael hurts the son. Once the inspector approves a few dirty shipments, he's implicated and will continue to play ball and Michael will give him the son back. In the meantime, Michael's from out of town. He doesn't have a safe place to keep the kid. He needs Obregon to stash the son for him for awhile. Obregon will go for it. Once he has the inspector's son, he has the leverage and can cut Michael out."

"Use Obregon's greed against him," Fiona said.

"And Obregon doesn't have anywhere to stash the kid except the safe house where he has the girls," Sam said. "It might work. Kinda risky for the kid, though. Who we gonna use?"

Chuck took a deep breath. The next word was one of the hardest he had ever uttered in his life. "Me," he said.

Casey stood up. "Are you out of your mind?"

"It has to be me," Chuck said. "I'm the only one Obregon hasn't seen."

"No," Casey said firmly.

"Casey. It's Sarah," Chuck said.

"Let me talk to you for a moment, Carmichael," Casey said. He grabbed Chuck by the back of the neck and led him over to the far corner of the loft. He backed Chuck into the corner. As they walked over, Michael whispered something to Sam.

"Look, Bartowski," Casey said. "That noggin's of yours is U.S. Government property and you have no right to risk the Intersect on some harebrained stunt."

"Sarah would do it for me," Chuck said.

"Yes, she would," Casey agreed. "So would I. It's our jobs. My job, Walker's job, is to protect you at all costs. That means that we risk ourselves for you, you don't risk yourself for us. If Walker were here, she'd tell you the same thing."

"I'm sorry, Casey," Chuck said. "This is something I have to do." He glanced behind Casey and gave a very slight nod to Sam.

Sam swung a black-jack and it connected with the back of Casey's head with a thud. Casey crumpled to the floor.

"He's gonna be mighty pissed when he wakes up," Sam said.

"He's gonna kill me," Chuck said mournfully.

"No. He can't kill you," he told Chuck. "He'll probably just break your legs. Me, he's gonna kill."

Chuck took a deep breath and looked over at Michael. "Make the call."

Michael dialed the phone. "Enrique? Michael. I need a favor."

After a brief conversation, Michael said, "He agreed. I'm supposed to bring Chuck to the parking lot where I met him earlier tonight. He looked at his watch. It was past midnight. "I guess by now, last night."

"I grabbed these from the house," Fiona said, holding up Sarah and Carina's clothes.

"Perfect, "Michael said. "I could kiss you, Fi."

Fiona smiled. "I wouldn't stop you."

So Michael did. Unfortunately, from Fiona's point of view, it was a quick, chaste kiss.

Michael grabbed Sarah's pants and ripped the hem out, retrieving the mini GPS transceiver. He handed it to Chuck. Chuck regarded it for a moment. It was about the diameter of a dime, but a little thicker. After all, it had once resided in his watch. Chuck shrugged, stuck it in his mouth, and swallowed it. He had to swallow several times to get it down and it still felt like it was stuck in his throat. He ran over to the sink and downed a large glass of water.

Fiona, Michael and Sam just stared at him. "I guess this too shall pass," Sam finally said. Fiona hit him.

Coughing a little, Chuck turned back to the Miami threesome. "Just do me a favor," he said. "Don't tell Casey I did that."

"He'd be mad that it might hurt you?" Michael asked.

"No," Chuck said with a shudder. "He'd make me eat one a day so he'd always know where I was."

"How long do you figure it will keep working in your stomach?" Michael asked. "It can't be the best environment for electronics."

"Hopefully long enough," Chuck said. "Just long enough."

Fiona looked at the computer. "Well, we are still getting a signal. And it looks like Obregon is on the move. He must be headed to the club."

"Okay," Michael said. "Just in case, once we make the transfer, we're going to run a three-way tail on Obregon for as long as he has Chuck. Sam, you take Casey's suburban. Fi, take your Saab. He hasn't seen that. I'll drive Chuck there in my car, then ditch it and pick up something else."

"What's a three-way tail?" Chuck asked.

"When you're tailing someone," Michael explained. "It's best to use at least three cars in contact with each other and rotate them out so the guy you're tailing doesn't always see the same car behind him and notice the tail."

Fiona walked over to Chuck and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "It's a very brave thing you're doing, Chuck. Don't worry. I promise we won't lose you."

Sam clapped him on the back. "I know how much Sarah means to you," he said. "We'll get her back."

"They both mean a lot to me," Chuck said. "Sarah and Carina."

Sam glanced over at Fiona, who had an enigmatic smile. She in turned glanced over at Michael. They all three knew exactly who Chuck was doing this for.

"Mikey, you got any zip ties?" Sam asked.

"Sure." He pulled open a drawer in the kitchen and pulled out a bag, then tossed it to Sam. Sam walked over to Casey and zip-tied his hands. "All right, Mike. Help he carry him down to the car."

"Are you sure that's such a good idea?" Michael asked.

"It'd be a worse idea to leave him behind," Sam said. "He's gonna want to be there for the takedown."

"Okay," Michael said. He grabbed Casey's feet while Sam grabbed him under the shoulders.

"My God," Sam groaned. "Go on a diet, Casey."

While they carried Casey down the car, Fiona spoke to Chuck. "Better leave your wallet, cell phone and any other valuables," she told him. "They'll take it all away from you." She resisted the urge to reach up and brush a stray curl away from his forehead. "When you're a prisoner, a lot of people think they need to act macho. To show they're not afraid." She shook her head. "The best thing you can do is act meek and frightened. That way they won't feel compelled to beat the resistance out of you. Make them think that you've already given up."

Chuck looked at her. This woman, a hardened IRA fighter, gunrunner and bank robber, reminded him for just a moment of his mother in her tender ministrations. "Thank you, Fiona," Chuck said. "For everything."

Fiona darted forward and threw her arms around Chuck's neck and held tight to him for a moment. Awkwardly, Chuck returned the hug.

When she heard the door open, Fiona slowly released her grip and backed away from Chuck. She turned to look at Michael and gave a heavy sigh. Michael thought he saw the glint of a tear in her eye.

"What are we standing around here for?" Fiona suddenly said in a harsh voice. "You men. Always standing around when there's work to be done." She turned and strode out the door and Michael pretended that he didn't see her angrily rub her eye with the heel of her hand.

Michael waited while Chuck emptied his pockets and laid his possessions on the work table. Then he turned back to Michael. His face was a mask of fear and pain.

"We don't have to do this," Michael said. "We can come up with another plan."

"No," Chuck said. "There's no time. The longer we wait the greater the chance they'll hurt Sarah… and Carina." He turned and headed out the door. Michael followed behind him, impressed at the young man's courage. Michael had been in the business long enough to know that the brave man was not the one who didn't know fear. Only an idiot or a fool wouldn't be afraid. The brave man was the one who moved ahead despite his twisted gut and shaking knees. It had been a long time since Michael had known fear like that. He had gotten inured to the fear. But he remembered what it was like. Remembered hearing his drunken father stumble up the stairs angrily yelling his name. And because Michael remembered his fear, he appreciated Chuck's courage all the more.

Michael locked the door to the loft and headed down the stairs to the car where Chuck was waiting.

###

After being picked up by Obregon's henchman, a thug who went by 'Mano,' Sarah and Carina were driven to a small frame house in a rundown neighborhood. Mano parked the van in the garage and ordered the 'girls' to get out. Sarah and Carina complied. Instead of huddling together, like they had in the van in order to appear cowed and frightened, they moved slightly apart in order to have freedom of movement if they needed to fight.

When Sarah slowed slightly, Mano gave her a shove. While that often caused the other girls that he pushed around to trip and fall, Sarah kept her feet. Mano didn't notice that her excellent balance allowed her to roll with the push and dance easily with it so that she didn't even stumble.

As the approached the back door of the house, it opened and a small, weasel-faced man with stringy black hair stepped out. "What you got?" he called to Mano in Spanish.

"Fresh meat," Mano called back in Spanish. "We're supposed to put them with the other girls."

As Sarah and Carina passed him on the way into the house, Weasel-face gave each a pat on the bottom. "Not bad looking," he said to Mano. "Maybe we should have a taste before we take them over to the house."

"Sure," Mano said. "If you want Obregon to cut your balls off and stuff them down your throat. You know no one touches the girls before him. He likes them fresh."

Weasel-face shrugged. "If we didn't tell him…"

A third man stepped out of the front room where he had evidently been watching a telenovela. He was thin and his face was pocked marked with scars. His arms were covered with needle-marks. "Shut up," he told Weasel-face. "You're always talking big, but Obregon already carries your balls in his pocket."

Weasel-face took a step toward Needle-tracks, but Mano put a beefy hand on his shoulder. "We got a job to do." He gave Sarah and Carina a shove toward a room at the back of the house.

"Take off your clothes," he told them, speaking now in heavily accented English.

"Why?" Sarah asked meekly. "What are you going to do to us?"

The men did not realize that both she and Carina had understood every word of their conversation. But Sarah had to continue her ruse of being a scared young girl from the Mid-West. One who would be afraid to take off her clothes in front of three strange men.

Mano stepped forward and grabbed the back of Sarah's shirt and ripped it off. Carina screamed and ran toward the corner of the room. Weasel-face strode over to her and smiled. His teeth were stained and rotting. "Take off your clothes," he said, raising a hand as if to strike her. Meekly, Carina began to respond. While the three men were looking at Carina, Sarah palmed the knife hidden in the waistband of her pants and slipped it unto her bra's back strap, and then began to take off her clothes.

Soon, both women were standing there in just their underwear, shivering despite the heat. All three men looked at them appreciatively. The frumpy clothes had hidden some very interesting and delightful curves.

All three men stood staring for awhile before finally Mano motioned to Needle-tracks and he picked up the clothes. He rifled through them looking for any valuables before throwing them on the bed.

"Bring them, Mano said to Weasel-face and Needle-tracks. The men readily complied, taking the opportunity to fondle the girls as they led them back out to the van.

"You drive," Mano told Weasel-face, throwing him the keys.

"You drive," Weasel-face said, throwing them back. "I'll watch the girls."

"Like Hell you will," Mano growled. "I don't trust either one of you and Obregon entrusted the girls to me." He threw the keys back to Weasel-face, who promptly dropped them and had to fumble in the dark to find them again.

Weasel-face climbed into the driver's seat and Mano motioned Needle-tracks to sit up front with him. Mano shoved the girls into the van, then climbed in and sat between them, putting an arm around each one. "Now this," he said, "is riding in style."

Sarah never felt as dirty in her life as she did when the van finally reached its destination and she got out. She looked around. They were at a large, two-story house surrounded by a chain link fence and with burglar bars on the windows and doors. A tall, unkempt hedge just inside the chain-link fence hid the house from view from the street.

Mano shoved the girls forward toward the house. As they walked up the front porch, the front door opened and a hard-looking Cuban woman stepped out. She had that worn look Sarah recognized as common to former prostitutes.

"Who are these two?" she asked Mano in Spanish.

"Obregon told me to pick them up and bring them here. That's all I know," Mano answered.

The woman looked over the two girls. Sarah's thoughts turned to the knife that was hidden in the back strap of her bra, but she willed her hand not to move toward it.

"Bring them inside," the woman told Mano, then walked back into the house.

Once they were inside, the woman turned back to Sarah and Carina. "What are your names?" she asked.

"Stacey," Sarah said meekly. "Stacey Brannigan."

"Brittany Collier," Carina answered, her voice shaking with apparent fear.

"I am Lupe," the woman said. "This is my house. You will do what I say and do exactly what I say or you will be punished. Do you understand?"

The girls both nodded.

"Answer me when I speak to you!" she shouted.

"Yes," Sarah said, a moment before Carina echoed her.

Lupe's hand shot out and she slapped Sarah. "Yes, Ma'am," she shouted. "This is my house. You will treat me with respect!"

Sarah rubbed her cheek. "Yes, ma'am," she said.

"Yes, ma'am," Carina echoed.

That appeared to appease her for now. "Follow me," Lupe ordered. She led Sarah and Carina up the stairs. There were five doors. One, the door to a bathroom, was open. The other four doors were closed. "There are eight other girls in the house right now." She took out a key and unlocked a door, then pushed it open. "This will be your room for now."

Sarah and Carina stepped into the room. Three mattresses on the floor were the only furnishing in the room. There were bars on the windows. "You better get some sleep," Lupe told them. "Obregon will no doubt be here to see you before long." She stepped out and Sarah clearly heard the sound of the door being locked.

The moment the door was locked, Sarah and Carina's demeanor changed. Gone were the two frightened girls. In their place were two trained, deadly agents. The first thing they did was to scour every inch of the room looking for bugs. Finding none, they sat down on the mattresses and leaned close to whisper to each other. Just in case, they spoke to each other in German.

"I counted five guards, plus the house mother," Sarah said.

"I heard snoring from the back of the first floor," Carina said. "Two distinct tones, so figure two more."

"I didn't see any surveillance or alarms," Sarah said. "You?"

Carina shook her head. "The guard watching the front room had a Smith and Wesson M&P40. 15 shot magazine. None of the others were armed but they may have weapons elsewhere in the house. It's a good bet."

"Agreed," Sarah said, nodding her head.

Carina stood up. "So let's bust out of here and take them down," she said. "Piece of cake."

"Remember," Sarah said, getting to her feet, "the primary mission is to get all the girls out safely. We don't move until we get more intel. You always go in guns blazing."

"Not much chance of that this time," Carina said. "I left my gun in my other underwear."

###

Author's Note: Well, it's late so that's enough for tonight. I thought you'd want to see what Sarah and Carina have been up to.