A/N: As I'm writing this, it's getting so late that the birds are starting to sing. I find that very weird for winter. Eh, stupid birds. But the moon is pretty bright, so I am a little worried about all the werewolves, vampires and Shaws etc of the night.
Anywho, chapter 8 has arrived. Möbius, it is called. Divisive, it will be. Review it, you will. Hehe. Nothing like a bit of nightime Yoda'ing up of things, right? The usual thanks go out to Dana for the beta work. Seriously, she powered through this. And I feel I should mention again, for those of you who haven't already, check out her new story, Mary and Chuck vs the Ties That Bind.
And as far as I'm aware of, there are no references to 24 in the following chapter.
Chapter 8
Möbius
"The best laid plans of mice and men often go astray." - Robert Burns.
UNKNOWN LOCATION
Her head was spinning.
In a strange way, it seemed to be giving a sense of order to the ever present nausea. Balancing it.
But that was probably just bullshit.
Her mind clutching at straws.
She couldn't quite tell whether she was conscious or not – she'd been drifting in and out of it for a while now and lucidity was something that had been lost along the way.
There was only one thing that she was completely aware of.
Everything hurt.
Almost every part of her was hurting
And the rest that didn't simply ached.
Wrists, which should have been numb by now, were just raw.
Her tongue was swollen against a parched throat.
Bruises were peppered around her torso and though only superficial, they were bringing pain to parts of her which she didn't know existed.
And her arms.
Her arms felt as if they could pop out of their sockets at any moment.
Her feet were only just scratching the floor, not quite enough to stand, keeping her in a constant state of limbo trying to balance her weight in the way that caused the least amount of pain. It wasn't working.
She didn't bother trying to open her eyes.
Well, her one good eye. The other one was just too swollen and heavy to even attempt at opening.
Though the blindfold had been removed, the room she had been in for the last – however long – was almost entirely pitch black. There would have been nothing to look at besides that stupid red dot in the corner.
Besides, opening her eye would have made everything real.
It was much easier to just keep them closed. Closed in the hope that it would bring her closer to unconsciousness, where the pain would be absent, where she wished she could stay. Where none of this was real.
It hadn't been like this to begin with.
Not at all.
When she'd finally woken up from whatever drug the man called Cooper had tranq'd her with, she hadn't been hanging from rafters. She hadn't been in any pain. She hadn't even been blindfolded. In fact, she'd been sitting upright in a chair. Albeit, handcuffed to the chair, but sitting comfortably all the same.
The room had been small, square and concrete. It had clearly been designed for interrogations, as the chair she was in was bolted to the floor, right in the centre of the room. There was also a heavy smell of bleach and other disinfectants, which she assumed were supposed to be intimidating and remind her that the room's previous occupants probably hadn't had happy endings.
Cooper had been there when she woke up, watching her. Chuck wasn't.
He'd smiled and produced a bottle of water, which he'd offered to her. Whatever drug had been in her system had left her incredibly dehydrated and she was thirsty as hell. Still, she'd refused the water until Cooper himself had tried it.
The questions had been simple at first. Name, today's date, agency affiliation – all stuff which he already knew. Questions that were designed to get her talking. His tone was flat and perfectly unrevealing. Then it had turned more serious: What did she know about the car bombing? Why was she in California? What were her Agency clearance codes? How was the investigation into Graham's murder progressing?
Cooper had gotten the same answer to every question.
Silence.
And at first, that didn't seem to bother him. He would just smile politely and ask another question. Only to get the same answer.
This went on for hours. At least it seemed like hours – there were no windows in the room, and thus, gone was the perception of time.
She'd refused to even acknowledge him when he spoke to her. The man had clearly been doing this sort of thing for a long time and from all her anti-interrogation training back at the Farm, she knew that trained interrogators could sometimes get answers from even the slightest bit of body language. Besides, this wasn't her first gig; she knew what she was doing.
She'd tried to occupy her mind by counting the number of questions he'd asked in an effort to keep some semblance of how much time had past. But it had been a feeble attempt and she'd quickly given up – the room's bright lights and Cooper's ridiculous pacing were just too much of a distraction.
Then he'd asked a question that had got her attention. A question that she'd not been expecting. One that had caused her jaw to twitch ever so slightly.
What was Bryce Larkin doing in Los Angeles?
If Cooper had picked up on this involuntary tell, he hadn't let on, for after her standard period of silence he'd asked another question. Maybe he wasn't that good.
Bryce was in L.A? That was news to her. Maybe he could save her. Still, right now that was not important. She couldn't afford to be Sarah the partner, Sarah the friend, Sarah the girlfriend, ex or not, it didn't really matter.
No.
She wasn't Sarah the anything.
She was Agent Walker.
She was the Agent Walker who didn't divulge information to terrorists. She was the Agent Walker who understood the risks and consequences of what she did. She was the Agent Walker who was bound by duty to protect her country and to die for it if necessary.
That was why she was the best.
The only answer Cooper ever got was silence.
Eventually though, he'd realised that this method wasn't working and after giving her one last chance to answer his questions, calmly exited the room. About a minute later the door opened again and...
Oh shit.
Captain Wrestler had walked in, smiling.
There was an ugly looking bruise on his face.
The smile had turned into a predatory grin as he polished his knuckles, cradling them gently like one would stroke a cat.
Then, like a trebuchet slowly being reclined, he'd raised his large arm.
When she'd next awoke, she was blindfolded. The chair was gone and so were the lights. From what she could tell, she was still in the same room, only now her wrists were chained. Chains which drew up to rafters, from which she was hanging. And God -
Her shoulders.
The shearing pain running through them made them feel as if they were on fire. How long had she been there? The pain in her shoulders was almost enough to distract her from the large bruise that had appeared on her face where Captain Wrestler had hit her.
Her jacket had been removed, as had her belt. Someone had dropped the temperature a couple of degrees and she was starting to feel it against her outstretched limbs and exposed torso. There was concrete below, scrapping against her now bare feet. She'd realised that even though there were no bindings holding her feet together, her legs were just too heavy to move. There was no way she'd be able to put any weight on them – not without dislocating her shoulders, and she wasn't prepared to do that. Not yet, anyway. The way the shackles were bound to her wrist meant that there was no way that she could get a grip on the chains, either.
When the door had next opened, Cooper had reappeared through it. Aside from removing her blindfold, he didn't touch her. He just let her hang there. Let her know he was in control.
When the questions finally started again, they were more spaced out, sporadic even, and seemed slightly random in nature. That may have just been the dehydration induced delirium that had once again started to creep up on her.
She didn't answer any of his questions.
Realising that she still wasn't talking, he'd reattached the blindfold and left the room, leaving her alone with the rafters.
By now, the disinfected smell of the room started to fade, only to be replaced by the smell of her own body. She hadn't been allowed to use any wash facilities and by now, she realised, she must reek. Oh well, hopefully her interrogator would notice.
The little sessions of him entering, asking questions and leaving continued for some time. Occasionally, he'd bring her some water or perhaps a slice of bread, just enough to keep her alive. Sometimes the sessions would feel longer, but more often than not they were the same length. The gaps between them, however, were a completely different matter. They felt as if they varied from minutes to hours; she couldn't exactly tell. One thing was for sure about them, though. The whole point appeared to be to prevent her from sleeping.
At least that part of the interrogation was working.
Even before she'd been captured, she'd only had five hours of sleep in a forty-eight hour period.
She still didn't answer any of his questions.
Then the beatings had started.
Sarah had been somewhat surprised that it hadn't been Captain Wrestler administering them, as Cooper seemed a little too detached from everything to want to get his hands dirty. She couldn't have been more wrong.
The man was clearly a sadist and got off on what he was doing. A typical session would begin by him undoing her chains, causing her to crash to the ground in pain. But before she'd be able to muster the strength to react, two guards would haul her back up and reattach her.
Then Cooper would hit her. Hard.
He knew exactly where to hurt her.
Initially, she'd tried to remain silent and not give him the satisfaction of hearing her scream.
That didn't last for long.
Still, silence was the only answer he ever got to any question.
# # #
As soon as she heard the lights snap on, she knew she was awake and braced herself. Braced herself to be suddenly dropped to the floor, bringing her shoulders some momentary relief. She heard the door scrape open a couple of meters in front of her and for some reason unknown to her, she pried her good eye open to see what was there. The light was almost too bright and she nearly closed it straight away. But she didn't.
Sure enough, standing in the doorway with a grin on his face, was Cooper. He was flanked by his two grunts, ready to carry out his orders. He just stood for a minute, staring. Taunting. Enjoying the moment. She knew what was coming. He knew what was coming. Grunt A and Grunt B both knew what was coming. Why prolong what was inevitable?
Bring it, you sick motherfu-
"Cooper!" cried a voice from behind him.
On hearing the voice, Cooper turned his back to her to reveal –
Traitor.
From along the long corridor that extended past her cell, Chuck Bartowski came running into view, looking very out of breath. He came to a stop next to Cooper and after giving Sarah a fleeting glance, turned to face him.
"Ah, you've arrived," Cooper said casually. "Traffic was good then, I take it?"
Chuck gave Cooper a puzzled look, before ignoring the question. "I want to talk to her."
"What makes you think you'll get anything out of her?" he asked in the same casual tone.
Chuck looked at him thoughtfully before swallowing. "You've been at this for three days and from what you've told me on the phone, haven't gotten anywhere. Let me try. I know her. I can get answers."
Three days? Was that how long it had been? It had been seemed like weeks...
Cooper took a deep breath, then sounding a little disappointed said, "Fine. You try. But don't go easy on her."
"Turn the cameras off," Chuck ordered as Cooper started to head off back down the corridor. "I don't want this to be recorded."
"Have fun," Cooper called back, chuckling a little.
Manoeuvring past the two guards, who were both much thicker than his lanky build, Chuck stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.
He just looked at her, hands buried deep into the pockets of his black jacket. Staring.
And she just stared right back.
Sarah started to feel a rage build up within her. A deep seated rage that she hadn't felt in years. It was the first real thing that she'd felt in days besides pain – powerful enough to give her something to focus on. Chuck Bartowski, her former partner, was now a Ring agent. How dare he have the audacity to just stand there and stare at her? Judging.
She knew she should break the stare, but she couldn't. He would break first. She just kept gazing into the eyes of the traitor in front of her, trying to understand. At least Cooper had the decency to be loyal to his cause. Someone had told her once that the eyes could communicate worlds and that's what she was trying to do to Chuck, which was unleash all of her built up rage through that one stare.
Chuck Bartowski, you bastard.
If he was sensing the tension within her, he gave no indication of it. He just continued to stand there. Waiting.
Then his eyes flickered, darting towards the camera in the corner of the room. Ah, she remembered, that's what the red light was from. Only, now it was gone. The camera had been turned off.
Chuck let out a long breath – was that relief? Then he started to unzip his jacket and stepping towards her, pulled out a bottle of water. He unscrewed the cap and while gently cradling her chin, lifted the bottle to her mouth. God, she was thirsty, that water felt so good and – NO!
With some unknown strength that she had abruptly found, she spat the water back into his face. Go to hell.
Chuck blinked.
He didn't wipe his face. He didn't even look shocked at what she had done. He just hung the bottle loosely at his side, unsure of what now to do with it.
"Sarah-" he started to say.
"I have absolutely nothing to say to you."
Where had that come from? That was the first time she had said anything real in days. It was barely more than a whisper, but given how dry her throat was, she was surprised she'd managed to speak at all. But, she had said it. She needed to say it. Whatever crappy excuse he was going to try and reason her with, she didn't want hear it. He had betrayed her, and was a traitor, pure and -
"Sarah, I'm undercover," Chuck suddenly blurted.
"You're – what? But that's – how?" she tried to say, but nothing proper came out. A million questions had flooded her mind all at once. He just said what? How could...
Ah, she realised, it's a ploy. The grim realisation hit home before the tiny bit of hope that had emerged within her could fully settle.
She cleared her throat before defiantly saying,"Don't believe you."
Chuck gave an almost imperceptible nod. "Sarah, I'm not lying. I'm so so sorry for what's happened and I know you have absolutely no reason to believe me, but I promise you, it's the truth."
Bullshit.
There was just no way.
Sarah dragged her heavy head up to look once again into those eyes. Those eyes that had fascinated her all those months ago when Bryce had first introduced her. Those eyes that she'd defiantly refused to think about. Those eyes that had then gone and joined The Ring. What she saw in them, however, was not the look of a traitor, but a genuine look of affliction. They really did look sad. Older, too. Now she could see him more closely, he looked a lot more pale than the last time she'd seen him. Maybe he was telling the truth.
"Truth?" she asked, still not sure what to believe.
Chuck, however, looked relieved. He nodded more confidently this time. "Look, I can't explain everything right now, but I promise I'm gonna get you out of here. Just drink, okay?"
He didn't give her a choice.
Before she could protest, the water was gently trickling to the back of her throat. She didn't spit it back this time. Initially, she had trouble swallowing and Chuck seemed to recognise that, not letting too much water flow into her mouth. Then, before she knew it, she was lapping greedily at the bottle, the cool liquid doing wonders for her parched throat.
Chuck tucked the empty bottle back into his jacket and pulled something else out of another pocket, then started to remove a wrapper.
"If you're undercover, then how-"
She was interrupted as he popped a couple of pieces of candy into her mouth, shooting her an apologetic look as he did. He clearly felt awkward at feeding her. She didn't care. She just sucked on the candy, already starting to feel the effect of the sugar. She couldn't place the taste, all she knew was that it was the best thing she'd ever tasted. Ever.
"I'm sorry," Chuck blurted again. "At the hotel, I forgot Cooper was behind me – I didn't know. I couldn't stop him. And then it took forever for them to tell me where you were and..." He trailed off.
"S'Okay," she mumbled quietly, before letting out a heavy sigh. She'd now swallowed the candy and her
rage, having slowly dissipated, meant that her pain was once again starting to become noticeable.
Chuck's eyes upon seeing this, widened and he appeared to remember the situation.
"Oh crap," he said. "I'm sorry I don't have the..." He gestured to the chains above her and shook his head.
The combined effect of the water and sugar was starting to wake her up and her mind once again felt like it could process complex thought. She still wasn't sure whether or not to believe him. He had offered her no proof of his being undercover, other than his word and a look in those damn eyes. But what choice did she have, really?
"If you're really undercover, then who's your handler?" she asked.
Chuck didn't appear to have heard the question, as he had stepped back and was looking thoughtfully at the chains. But then having settled on something, he stepped forward and wrapping an arm around her legs, gently lifted her up. The other arm settled on her back, supporting her. "Sorry, what was the question?" he asked, an awkwardness having filled his voice because of the new found closeness of their position.
But it was Sarah's turn not to answer as the burden on her shoulders was suddenly lifted. The chains slackened and her numb arms fell to a more natural position by her chest. She closed her eye for a second, enjoying this temporary bliss. Chuck didn't have to do this, even if he was undercover. He shouldn't be doing this. It was a risk to both his cover and his person to do so.
Then she felt something change.
Gone was the CIA agent, who was the best of the best. Gone was the CIA agent who hadn't said a word for days. Gone was the unbreakable agent shell that had protected her.
Gone was Agent Walker.
She was just Sarah again.
It felt nice under Chuck's grip.
Sarah tried to blink away the tiniest bit of moisture in her eye.
She cleared her throat again, for even with the water that Chuck had given her, it was still difficult to speak. "Thank you," she whispered. "I was asking who your handler was?"
Because of the position he was in, Sarah couldn't see Chuck's face clearly. But she thought she felt his arms tightening around her. "My handler? I don't – Not any... Um, Bryce."
Sarah's sudden movement nearly caused Chuck to drop her.
"Bryce is your handler?"
Chuck quiet voice was slightly muffled. "Yes. But it's complicated – I can't explain right now. I will later, I promise. Right now, we need to figure out how to get you out of here."
That was the second time she'd heard Brye's name mentioned. But right now, there was something more pressing.
"Chuck, you're still undercover, right?"
He looked up at her. From this angle she could see that there was a small bruise a few days old on his right cheek. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, you haven't broken cover, have you?"
"No," he answered. "But what's that got to do with anything?" A frown was starting to form on his face.
Dammit, he wasn't getting it. "Chuck," she said gently. "You can't break me out of here and maintain your cover. Greater good, remember?"
"No," he said simply, clinging on to her more tightly.
"Yes," she replied, forcing a swallow. He wasn't making this easy. "If you managed to infiltrate The Ring this deeply, then you can't destroy all that just to get me out."
"What do you mean just to get you out?" he said, a little more fiercely.
"Didn't Cooper send you in here to interrogate me?"
Chuck appeared to think about it for a second, then the realisation hit and he gave her another apologetic look. "I'm gonna lower you back down, okay?"
Sarah slowly nodded, readying herself for what she knew was coming. "It has to sound convincing."
As gently as he had picked up her, Chuck slowly began to lower her back down. Back down until -
The chains tightened and she once again sighed back into the pain. She could almost see it mirrored in the look on Chuck's face as he took a step back from her.
"I'm so sorry," he said again. With that, he formed his right hand into a fist.
She closed her eye and tensed up, ready for the -
Smack.
Her eye shot back open.
Chuck had smashed his right fist into his left palm. It wasn't a light punch, either. He had hit it hard.
Loud enough for the guards outside to hear.
A couple of seconds break.
Then he did it again. And again. And again.
His face was barely even contorting with every time that he did it.
Then he stopped and turned his gaze back to Sarah, pursing his lips slightly. "I think that sounded convincing."
"Yeah," she said, unsure of what else to say.
He raised his arms in the air and after thinking about it, let them drop back down. He cleared his throat. "I get what you said, I do. And I don't care. So much has happened that – I just can't..." He paused to briefly pinch the bridge of his nose. "... I just can't do this any more. I'm not going to let them hurt you more, Sarah. I'm not, I swear it."
Her mind started to object, but her worn out body welcomed just what he said. "Chuck...You can't..."
Chuck shook his head defiantly. "I'm gonna get you out of here, I promise. Just hold on a little longer."
"Chuck-" she started to say.
But before she could object any more to whatever he was planning, Chuck had already walked over to the door and banged on it twice. The door promptly swung open and he stepped back out into the corridor. Just before the door closed, he glanced back at her and with a new found determination in his eyes, he mouthed something.
Hang on.
# # #
13th October 2007 [THREE DAYS EARLIER]
Daniel Marks' Hotel Room, Los Angeles CA
10:17 PST
"Dammit, Cooper, just tell me where she is!"
Chuck was losing his patience. Since he'd left with Sarah nearly two hours ago, Cooper had been unreachable. During that time, Chuck estimated that his pacing had probably worn a good half-inch off the carpet in his hotel room. Now having finally decided to answer his phone, Cooper was being difficult.
His response was halfway between a grunt and a growl. "You know I can't do that. She's a top level CIA agent; the Director has to personally clear access for anyone to even get near her."
Chuck threw his hand up in the air. "So get me the damn clearance then!"
"Why is this so important? After Mexico, we both know that interrogations aren't your thing."
Crap.
He hadn't thought of that. He'd been so adamant to find out where Sarah was that he'd forgotten how it might sound. Despite everything that had happened with the bombing, he was still undercover. And didn't he know the price for that...
"It's just..." he said, having finally lowered his voice to a more reasonable level, "That I used to work with Walker. I can help things along."
He hated calling Sarah that.
Cooper laughed. "Even with what happened between her and Larkin?"
Chuck swallowed and for the nth time today began to feel very angry. "Yeah," he replied as calmly as he could, the words only just gritting through his teeth.
Cooper considered it for a moment. "Fine, whatever. I'll check with the Director. Might be a while though, as things are a lot tighter at the moment."
"Fine." Tighter was the freaking understatement of the century. He'd barely avoided having the leak for what happened with the bombing pinned on him...
"Which reminds me, what the hell are you still doing in that hotel room? It's been compromised; get out of there."
"Yeah," Chuck said again, not bothering to argue. He just hung up.
Screw you, Cooper.
Chuck threw the phone down on the bed. All he could do now was wait. Cooper was his one life line to finding Sarah, to keeping his promise. Still, it would all be his fault if she died...
He settled down on the bed and stared down at the spot where Sarah had fallen. He should have just blown his cover there and then, before Cooper had had the chance to tranq her. But he'd just been so shocked to see her standing there in his hotel room. He'd barely even thought about her over the past few months, having promised himself that he couldn't. That he shouldn't.
When Bryce had first introduced her, he actually thought he was dreaming. She was, hands down, probably the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Those eyes just seemed to go on forever... He didn't think women like that actually existed. Yet, there she was. And then she'd spoken to him. She hadn't laughed in his face at the idea that a guy like him was a field agent, unlike so many others who had. She'd been surprised, sure, but who wasn't. She hadn't even made fun of his stupid babbling. She had just talked to him. Barely anyone at the CIA, let alone any women, ever did that. In a word, she was perfect. In the few days that he was around her and on the Colombia mission, he had started to develop feelings that he hadn't felt, or even thought he'd be able to feel, since Jill had-
But she was Bryce's girlfriend.
And that made sense. Because amazing girls like Sarah Walker belonged with people like Bryce. Besides, Bryce was his friend and Chuck didn't do that sort of thing. Even if she hadn't been with Bryce, he himself was about to go undercover. It just wouldn't have been fair. And what reason would she ever have to be interested in him, anyway? He was, well, him. That was why he couldn't think about her.
But then he had made his promise to – No, he wasn't going to think about that, either. Not now, not with Sarah in so much danger. He needed to stay calm.
But then, dammit, there she had been. There she had fallen, in that very spot. All traces of her previous cat-like grace gone. She had just fell.
Even if he had managed to come to his senses after Cooper had shot her, he wouldn't have been able to save her. Two more Ring agents had appeared out of nowhere to cart Sarah off, and he could have hardly taken the two of them and Cooper on. Not any more. Not since Perry, anyway.
Everything lay with Cooper now and whether he could get clearance with the Director. But no-one even knew where the Director was. After the leak, the Downtown tower block had been evacuated. Chuck had already tried to find out where Sarah was being held himself to no avail. Her triggering of the self-destruct mechanism at the data storage facility near the docks meant the intranet The Ring used was temporarily down. How the hell had she even found that place? Bryce had told him she was good, nut this was just...
Chuck let out a sigh and threw himself back onto the bed. Cooper had been right – It was time for him to leave this place and for Daniel Marks to go back to New York. He didn't exactly know where The Ring would send him next.
One thing was for sure though.
He was going to keep his promise.
He was going to save Sarah.
# # #
16th October 2007
Mojave Desert, San Bernardino County CA
12:47 PST
Three days later and the Director had finally given him clearance. However, Chuck was starting to question the address that Cooper had given him, as he really did seem to be in the absolute middle of nowhere.
Since he'd gotten off the I-15, he'd been driving along narrow deserted roads, which really weren't much more than dirt tracks, to be honest. The quality of the roads meant that he was limited to staying below forty and that, even for a driver as cautious as Chuck, could be incredibly frustrating. The signs of civilisation had been getting more and more sparse as the roads went on. In fact, he hadn't seen a house or even another car for at least fifteen minutes. That probably didn't bode well for Sarah. But at least she was alive. Cooper had told him that she alive.
He clung to that.
Outside, the sun was blazing down on the desolate landscape. The thermostat on the dashboard said that it was pushing 80OF, which even for the desert was hot for this time of year. Inside the car, the air conditioning had pushed the temperature down to a much more agreeable 68OF. But that didn't stop him from sweating.
He'd been sweating pretty much non-stop for the past three days, waiting for Cooper's call. He didn't know what else to do. Should he have called the CIA to let them know Sarah was missing? Part of him had wanted to, but he'd been too worried about alerting the wrong people. Now with Graham gone, who was he to trust? Not that he ever really trusted Graham. He'd decided his best bet was to maintain his cover and let Cooper tell him where Sarah was.
His GPS began to beep, indicating he was approaching his destination and -
Nothing.
Rock and sand.
Great. Where are you, Sarah?
Despite the voice telling him that he'd been fed the wrong destination and that Sarah was gone, he kept driving.
There had to be something out here. There had to.
The road began to curve around a large outcrop of rock.
Then he saw the house.
The sigh of relief that passed through him was so strong that he thought he might lose control of the vehicle.
Sarah.
Chuck increased the pressure on the gas slightly.
As he got closer, he could see that house was hardly a fitting description. It was more of a hut, to be fair. The building was entirely wooden and looked to only have one room. It was a little off the road and partially concealed by dried vegetation. There was a single black Range Rover parked outside and a man guarding the entrance. He was smoking.
Something was disturbingly familiar about this place.
He pulled off the road and parked his own vehicle next to the Range Rover. Chuck took a deep breath to calm his nerves and putting on his sunglasses, got out of the car.
Here goes nothing.
The fully loaded Walther was concealed beneath his jacket, ready. He'd actually gotten pretty good at using the thing on his own, as much as he hated it. But there was a much bigger picture now and he hardly had any right to cling onto morality any more. Not here.
Not now.
The guard waved to him as he saw him get out. He was bald and had a goatee around his chin and mouth. There was an assault rifle resting against the wall. Chuck recognised him. His name was Panzer.
"Carmichael," he grunted. "Cooper's been expecting you."
"He's inside?" Chuck asked, not bothering to look at him, keeping his eyes on the building.
Panzer gave a very gorilla-like smile. "Downstairs. With the bitch."
Chuck eyes shot towards him and he felt his jaw clench – It was all he could do to repress the urge to charge the much larger man.
Just think of Sarah.
Suppressing a thousand curses, he calmly managed to ask, "Downstairs?"
Panzer took a heavy drag from his cigarette. "See for yourself. Everything is on the monitors."
Chuck just nodded and moved onto the little decking adjacent to the building, past Panzer.
He pulled his sunglasses off as he moved inside through the creaky wooden door. The house was indeed made up of one room and dusty windows weren't letting much light in. Most of the original furniture had been removed and there were scratches on the floor leading to where the rest had been pushed aside against the walls. At the rear of the room, part of flooring had been removed and there were some stairs leading downwards in its place.
Towards Sarah.
Just as Panzer had mentioned, there were several monitors on a desk in the centre of the room, showing multiple camera angles of what Chuck presumed to be downstairs. He nervously moved over to the desk and let his gaze fall on the centre monitor.
What he saw caused his heart to sink and his vision to turn red.
The figure on the screen was hanging from the ceiling, her arms chained. Her body was bruised and battered, the dirty clothes torn and hanging loosely from her noticeably thinner figure. Strands of blonde hair were partially obscuring her face, but that didn't stop him from seeing the bruises on it and her swollen right eye.
Chuck wanted to scream, but he didn't. He just watched the frail figure that was once Sarah Walker.
The sound of footsteps drew his attention back to the other monitor. Cooper and two guards were moving along a corridor downstairs towards a cell. Sarah's cell.
Pushing himself away from the desk, Chuck sprinted towards the stairs.
# # #
[About Ten Minutes Later]
Hang on, he mouthed as the guard slammed the door to Sarah's cell shut behind him, closing off her link with the rest of the world.
He couldn't let her stay in there, not any longer. She'd been there too long already. He desperately needed a plan.
He felt sick, sicker than he'd ever felt in his entire life. Somehow, he'd managed to hold it together inside the cell. He tried to be strong. Sarah was depending on him and he didn't want her to see how truly weak he felt.
He hadn't been prepared for what he had seen. Seeing her on the monitors had been bad enough. But being in the room with her, listening to her uneven breathing – she'd seemed so weak. So powerless. And yet, she'd somehow managed to hold out for three days.
Three freaking days while he'd been sitting on his ass.
She was so much stronger than he knew he could ever be.
He hadn't expected her to believe him at first. The evidence against him was good. For all intents and purposes, he was a member of The Ring. But for some strange reason, she'd eventually realised he was telling the truth.
The water and candy were all he'd been able to smuggle in and whilst they weren't enough, he hoped they'd be enough to sustain her until he figured out a plan to get her out of here. Compared to seeing Sarah in the state she was in, that was going to be the easy part.
After ignoring the guards, Chuck started to traipse back up the refurbished stairs where he assumed Cooper was waiting for him.
He wanted to kill Cooper for what he had done to Sarah.
How could someone actually do that? It was amazing that Sarah hadn't said anything by now. Ellie didn't even have that much will power.
But whatever strength that had been holding her together aside, he still hadn't had the heart to tell her about the car bombing, about why he was still alive and -
"Well, did you get anything?" Cooper asked as he reached the top of the stairs.
Chuck didn't make eye contact with the man. "No, not yet. But I think I made some progress."
"Well, I guess that wasn't entirely unexpected," Cooper said sounding disappointed, as he pushed past Chuck to head back down the stairs. "This calls for a new approach."
Shit.
Chuck froze.
This was it.
Plan or not, he needed to act.
He needed to get Sarah out now.
Everything else could go to hell.