Fate's Design
Chapter 3
Groaning as the alarm clock goes off, the person lying on the bed pulls the covers over her head in an attempt to block out the ringing and the sunlight filtering into the room. In one deft motion, she flicks her wrist and sends a knife flying towards the offending clock, impaling it against the wall. It gives off one last mournful wailing ring before going quiet.
Ten minutes later, the door slowly opens and a man enters, moving slowly towards the prone figure. As he is about to tap her on the shoulder, he is knocked over onto his back and a knife is pressed against his throat.
"Please don't kill me, I'll give you anything," squeaks out Chuck, wheezing after being winded by the unexpected blow. Sarah's hardened expression changes and she quickly gets off him, looking incredibly mortified and embarrassed.
"I am so sorry, Chuck," she apologises. "Did I hurt you?"
"No, I should be," he cringes as he rubs his sore ribs which Sarah landed on, "okay."
"Chuck, I really am sorry. It's kinda like a reflex for me."
"Well, it's a very scary reflex." He eyes the dead alarm clock warily. "Much like many other of your reflexes." Walking over to the small cupboard in the corner, he tugs out the remains of the clock. "It went straight through. I suppose it's kinda cool, but a little disturbing as well."
Sarah yawns sleepily and offers him a small smile. Chuck grins goofily back and then turns around suddenly, his face turning as red as a beetroot.
"What?" she asks, suddenly very self-conscious.
"Your, ah, um, err, top is a little, shall I say, askew," he replies nervously. She looks down and, seeing what he means, readjusts her tank top whilst fighting the blush trying to show itself.
"Um, thanks," she says sheepishly. "Why are you here anyways?" Seeing his reluctance to turn around, she drapes the covers around herself. "You can turn around now."
Finally facing her, he mentally sighs with relief when he sees that she decided to cover herself. It took quite a bit of his self control and his undying respect for women to keep his eyes off her shapely curves, and the fact that he wanted to do it was another problem in itself. She's a friend, Chuck, remember that, and not to mention she's not interested. At least I think she isn't.
"Oh right, I came over to say that Casey has some news about the you-know-what in my head. Also, Ellie made breakfast." The last part causes Sarah's ears to perk up and she guides Chuck into the hallway, shutting the door. A brief moment later, she exits fully dressed and walks into the living room with a smile on her face. She had been to Chuck's place before and absolutely adored the elder Bartowski's cooking.
"Hello, Sarah, Chuck," greets Ellie as she transfers a pancake from the frying pan to the top of large stack of them. "Help yourself to some food. The maple syrup's in the cupboard." As the two start wolfing down the pancakes with generous helpings of syrup, Ellie grins conspirationally at them. "So..." she asks innocently, "how was last night?"
"We had dinner, some drinks and then..." Chuck's voice trails off as he tries to formulate an adequate and believable story for the remainder of the night. His sister's smile gets bigger.
"Well, good for you two. I've got to get to work now, so you two have fun!" Ellie says as she leaves with her boyfriend in tow. Devon shoots him a thumbs up and Chuck responds with a shooing motion.
"So where are we meeting Casey?" asks the blonde as she places another mouthful of pancake into her mouth and, taking the syrup bottle, drizzles her remaining pancakes with more of the golden liquid.
"At the BuyMore. He told me to get there around nine, but I need to head in early to fix some computers for a client and, seeing that my car's still outside the club, would you mind driving me?"
"No problem," replies Sarah. She places her plate into the sink and turns on the tap, rinsing off the crumbs and syrup stuck on it. After returning quickly to her room to retrieve her jacket and gun, which she secures behind her back, she follows Chuck out.
Around fifteen minutes later, they enter the BuyMore. As usual, the employees are deliberately avoiding work as much as possible except for one greenshirt standing with his back to them. He grunts, annoyed by two Nerds running past him, and easily lifts up a particularly large and heavy box with one hand, placing on the shelf. The greenshirt turns around and motions Chuck and Sarah over.
"Walker, Bartowski," he says, "General Beckman has informed me that there is a scientist who may be able to remove the Intersect database permanently and so we're bringing him over to have a look tonight. His name is Dr. Jonas Zarnow." The mention of his name triggers a flash of images to zip into Chuck's head.
"Uh, that may not be such a good idea, Casey. Our good doctor has been, for the last ten years, stealing top-secret weapon designs and selling them to a North Korean agent, who is currently here in Burbank to meet him."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm pretty sure this thing in my noggin doesn't lie."
Both Sarah and Casey pull out their phones and start conversing with their superiors. Chuck waits patiently for their discussions to end.
"Good job, Chuck," says Sarah, ending her call to Langston Graham. "Agents have been sent to apprehend Zarnow and bring him in for questioning."
"What about the Korean guy? We can bring him in as well, right?"
"That's the thing, moron," grunts the Major. "Relations with North Korea have always been and still are far from rosy. There is a chance that if this guy just disappears, there may be some major backlash." Casey lifts up another box onto the shelf. "For now, we are to do nothing until told by the General or the CIA Director."
"Then what about the thing in my head? How long is it going to be before you can find another person to get it out?"
The Major grunts. "If I were you, I would get my hopes up."
"Right. So back to normal?"
"If you call working a degrading job with a bunch of idiots normal, then yes." Another greenshirt bumps into Casey's back and runs away after Casey growls at him like a hungry bear. He turns back to the pair with a look of disdain on his face. "Anyways, Walker, your cover job starts now." He dangles a badge in front of her.
"Sarah, BuyMore Assistant Manager?" she reads in disbelief. Chuck sighs. He was about to submit his own application to Big Mike.
"The fat man running this place said that he was looking for someone with good PR skills." He hoists another box onto the shelf.
"Hey, I have PR skills too, you know," says Chuck indignantly.
The Major smirks. "The instant he saw her photo, he said that, and I quote, "with a figure like that, Corporate will never take a look at the sales figures ever again". Good luck, Walker." With that, he walks off, his smirk still clearly present.
"Well, looks like you're the boss," says Chuck resignedly. He plops himself down behind the Nerd Herd desk and scrunches up his application form, which he then tosses into a wastepaper bin. "I'll just be here if you need me."
"Oh. Okay." Sarah heads to the employee lounge with her new uniform and she gets changed very quickly. On her way out, she bumps into two Nerd Herd members, one of which is dark skinned (Indian, she thinks) and the other looks like he is drunk.
"Oh-ho-ho, what have we here?" chuckles the Indian. "I'm sorry, miss, only employees back here."
"Well then, it's fine for me." Sarah clips on her badge. "I'm the new assistant manager." The slobbering older Nerd stares at her with a predatory gleam in his eye, which she responds with a clear look of disgust.
"So, Sarah," drawls out the Indian, "you're new here, right? How would you like a quick tour of the trenches courtesy of Lester?"
"And Jeff," mumbles the drunken one.
Without waiting for her to reply, they start to guide her towards the door, when suddenly Chuck enters the lounge with an annoyed expression.
"Jeff, Lester, stop harassing Sarah and let her get started already. You two have a lot of service calls."
"Charles, my dear fellow, we don't do Windows. We are Apple artists."
"Good. A lot of other artists need your help." He drops a large stack of addresses on the table. "Get started." The two Nerds sidle away whilst shooting angry glances at him and shut the door behind them with a slam.
"Thanks," she says gratefully. "Those two are creepy."
"No problem. They're mostly harmless, but you have to watch out for their tricks. One time I nearly got drugged by Jeff after I stopped him from drinking during his shifts." Sarah looks at him with mock disbelief. "Hey," Chuck insists, "it's true! My head did not feel right after that odd tasting latte."
The blonde laughs. "So, how do I look in my new uniform?" She does a little twirl and Chuck's breath catches in his throat as he takes in her figure. The clothes themselves are distinctly average as they have to be (it is only a BuyMore job, after all), but now, when Sarah is wearing them, well, he is using a lot of effort to steer his thoughts away from what he wants to do, and specifically what he wants to do to her.
"You look… good," he replies a little too quickly. He quickly gathers himself and coughs loudly. "Um, yeah, I'm going to get back to those computers now, so if Jeff and Lester or anyone else tries harassing you, just tell me, okay?" Sarah nods in confirmation. She can hold her own against pretty much anybody so she doesn't actually need him to do anything. But she still appreciates the gesture.
A few hours later, the new Assistant Manager is aimlessly flicking paper balls into a bin in the corner of her makeshift office, which in fact had been a supply closet ever since the opening of the BuyMore. The dust and the smell is a testament to that.
She sighs deeply and allows herself to relax. Her thoughts wander off and she finds herself thinking about her own situation. And her intentions toward the loveable nerd. Sure, they are great friends and they like each other a lot, but they are still just friends.
She, Agent Sarah Walker, has to admit that she is feeling decidedly nervous. Damn you, Chuck Bartowski, making me feel so worked up. At that exact moment, the object of her frustrations knocks on the door. Gathering her thoughts, she clears her throat and says, "Come in."
"Hi," he says. Noticing her slouched over her desk and the bin filled with paper balls, he grins. "Bored out of your mind, eh? You know you can take a breather outside."
"Yeah, but every time I go outside, Jeff and Lester are there gawking at me. It's kinda uncomfortable."
Chuck's eyes light up. "How about we sneak out the back and do a runner? I'm pretty much finished here, and I'm sure Big Mike won't mind if you clock off early." Sarah hesitates. "Aww, come on, I know you want to."
Finally, she concedes. "Okay, Chuck. You got any plans?"
"Well," he starts as they walk out the back exit, "seeing that our da- I mean, dinner was interrupted last night, I'm wondering whether you would like to come with me to lunch."
"I'd like that," she replies with a smile. Chuck hops down off the platform and helps her down. Her smile gets larger.
"Hey, my Nerd Herder's back! And it's fixed!"
Sometime later, they pull up outside arrive an Italian pizzeria and after entering, a portly waiter waddles up to them with a huge smile on his face.
"Chuck, my dear boy," booms out the waiter, "how are you?"
"I'm great, Marlo, and you?"
"Good, good. How's your sister Ellie? She and Devon getting on well?"
"Yeah," Chuck replies, wincing a little at the memory of his sister in an intense makeout session. "She's really happy with him - after all, he is awesome."
Marlo's smile broadens as he notices Sarah standing next to him. He looks between the both of them. "So who is this beautiful lady, Chuck?"
"Oh right, Marlo, this is Sarah, Sarah, this is Marlo, an old family friend. He runs this restaurant." The waiter pulls her into a bear hug and she smiles nervously at the nerd, who just grins.
After releasing her, Marlo leads them over to a nice quiet table and hands them the menus. He grins happily at Chuck.
"What?"
"I'm glad that you're moving on from that Jill. You were moping around all day long after what happened."
"Hey! I was not moping around all day long!"
"You should've seen him," says Marlo to the blonde. "In and out of here everyday, with no purpose at all." Pausing a little, he continues. "I have to say this, so forgive me for sounding a little cheesy. Thank you, Miss Sarah, for helping Chuck here find happiness again."
Chuck clears his throat as his face starts to redden. "Thanks for that, Marlo, great speech. Um, shall we order?"
The two spend some time looking at the menu when Chuck snaps his fingers. "Hey, do you still do the Chuck Special?"
"For you, of course."
"A Chuck Special then, but just with the vegetables. And no olives either." Sarah beams as she realises that he has remembered a key point about her likes and dislikes. The waiter finishes jotting down the order and waddles off, shooting them winks and grins as he does so. He disappears into the kitchens.
The nerd glances around the restaurant and sees a man in a crisp black suit and a pair of dark sunglasses perching on the bridge of his nose. The guy places himself in the middle of a crowded area and flexes his arms, revealing a white scar running down his forearm.
A stethoscope
A kingfisher in a tree
Service records of an Agent Hong Chong-Hyeon
A frontal photo of Hong
A kingfisher in a tree
A stethoscope
"Sarah," he hisses under his breath, "The guy who just came in is Hong Chong-Hyeon, the North Korean agent Zarnow was dealing with." Sarah looks discreetly over his shoulder at the agent, who ignores a waiter trying to get him to order a drink and checks his watch.
"What do we do now?" asks Chuck.
"Like Casey said, nothing. We can't afford to take the risk."
"No! We can't just sit by whilst he walks away! Can't we do anything?"
The blonde sighs and shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Chuck, but sometimes... we can't get everyone."
Chuck shoots one last glance at the Korean and sighs in frustration as he sees him leave. Taking a slice of the pizza which Marlo had brought, he wolfs it down. "It just feels wrong to let him go."
"I know that feeling."
Later on in the afternoon, they return to the apartment block and bump into Casey, who grunts in annoyance. "We have a briefing with the General in five. There's been a development in the situation with Hong."
The Major turns around and heads through one of the apartment doors.
"Hey, you can't go in there, it's been rented out already," insists Chuck. Casey sticks his head out.
"Yeah. To me, moron. Now get in already." The nerd rolls his eyes and follows him into his apartment. Casey locks the door behind them and taps on a keyboard, switching on the television screen and revealing the face of the NSA director.
"Major Casey, Agent Walker, Mr. Bartowski," she says in a formal tone, "as you know, Dr. Zarnow is now in our custody and from him, we have managed to ascertain the location of Hong's safehouse. Your mission is to capture him and bring him back alive." She stares pointedly at Casey, whose face falls a little.
"Excuse me, General," says Sarah. "I thought that you told us not to act against Hong in any way."
"I have consulted the President himself on the issue, and it has been agreed that we cannot afford to have an enemy agent running around in the country - the risk of retaliation is one we are willing to take. Also, if we catch Hong, we will be able to extract valuable peices of information from him." Her attention is diverted momentarily as she glances at and flicks through a report placed on her desk. "If there are no problems, then proceed with your assignment." Her image blinks out, replaced by the NSA emblem.
Casey inspects his SIG carefully before sliding a new clip into it and loading it with a satisfying click. "So this is how it's going to go," he begins, drawing up the floor plan of a warehouse downtown. "I'll infiltrate the east wing. Walker, you'll enter through this door here," he points at the other side of the building, "and wait on my signal. When I get eyes on the target, we'll move to grab him."
"Wait, so what do I do?" asks the nerd.
"Nothing, numb nut," replies Casey as he starts to pack his gear. "First and foremost, you're the Intersect, which means we can't have you getting into trouble." He hoists the bag up and slings it over his shoulder. "You're also just a civilian. You wouldn't last five seconds on the field."
"Casey's right, Chuck," says Sarah. "Things can go seriously wrong, even on a mission which sounds as simple as this one. You might get killed."
Chuck looks as if he wants to continue arguing, but reluctantly stops, sighing. "I get it. I'll be here when you guys get back."
"When I said you're not going to anything, I didn't mean 'stay at home with your geek friends all day'. We still have to keep our eye on you, so you'll stay in the back of the van."
"Aww, come on Casey, do I have to sit back here?" whines Chuck as he shifts uncomfortably in the back, surrounded by bags of equipment. "It's so cramped! Did it not occur to you that you could've dropped these off at your apartment?"
"Meh," comes the nonchalant reply. "It's fun watching you squirm."
Sarah glares at the Major, who merely grunts in amusement. Dropping her stare, she checks her weapon, making sure that it is in working order. "I'm good to go. Casey, you ready?"
"No need to ask, Walker." He slides open the side door and slips away into the darkness. Sarah hops out but turns around quickly.
"Remember, Chuck. Under no circumstances are you to-"
"Leave the van and if I do, as our ever-friendly Major says, I will be singing soprano for the rest of my life."
This remark makes the CIA agent smile. "Well, personally, I think you are a great singer, soprano or not." Snapping back into agent mode, she continues. "Anyways, just stay in the van until we get back, okay?"
"No problem," Chuck replies. The blonde nods and heads off. He watches her disappear and sighs. "Stay safe."
Sneaking around was always the hard part. You could be the best sharpshooter in the world, but if you get noticed and surrounded, no amount of headshots will prevent from getting overwhelmed and killed, or even worse, captured and tortured for information.
"Move, dammit, before I decide to put a bullet in your skull, miserable fool," Casey growls under his breath as he impatiently waits for a guard to look in a different direction. He breathes in with relief and darts forward as the guard turns around. In one move he grabs the man's neck and twists hard, snapping a few vertebrae and severing the spinal cord.
Stashing the limp corpse in a nearby dumpster, Casey swipes his newly acquired security pass into a scanner and quickly goes in, shutting the door quietly behind him. Looking around, he sees the ladder to the overhanging walkway and scales it rapidly. He hides behind a crate and waits for Sarah to arrive.
Two minutes later, two men walk in underneath him talking heatedly between each other. Casey recognises the one on the right as Hong and snarls as he realises who the other man is. "Damn you, Mitchell, selling us out to the North Koreans," he mutters angrily. "You'll be lucky if you get spend the rest of your pathetic life in a two-by-four cell."
A brief flash of blonde catches his eye and he focuses, finding the CIA agent hiding behind stack of wooden crates. She looks up at him, waiting in anticipation for his Major nods and springs up, firing off two shots. Both hit the North Korean agent's knees and he topples over, shouting in pain.
The traitor, Mitchell, reaches for his holster but stops when he finds himself staring into the barrel of Sarah's gun. "Good boy," she says mockingly. "I would hate to have to waste a bullet killing you."
"You have no idea what you've walked into, Major," replies Mitchell with a definite sneer in his voice. Casey snorts with disgust and jumps down from his position, landing perfectly on the floor below. He walks over to the struggling Hong and draws his fist back. With one powerful swing knocks the enemy agent out stone cold.
"So, Mitchell, why did you sell your country out?" barks Casey, approaching with his gun trained on his head. "Money? Drugs?"
Mitchell responds with a dry laugh. "You really have no idea, do you? And to think that our country is being "protected" by people like you."
"You might want to start talking before I decide to recolour the ground with your brain," threatens the CIA agent, pressing the barrel of her pistol hard against the base of the man's skull to emphasise her point. "You've got five seconds."
"Four." Nothing.
"Three." Still nothing.
"Two." Silence.
"One." Just as Sarah lowers her aim to his knees, Mitchell whirls around and rams his shoulder into her face, knocking her over and sending the gun skittering away on the concrete floor. Casey immediately pops off a few shots, which find nothing but thin air. Mitchell has disappeared.
"Damn, I knew I should've shot that bastard the instant I had a chance." He helps Sarah up. "I'll go after the traitor. You stay here and guard Hong." Taking off, he speeds out of the warehouse, hot on Mitchell's heels.
Meanwhilst, back on the van, Chuck is idly playing with his phone when he catches sight of a man slipping silently closer to a nearby car. The moonlight reveals the face of the man and Chuck's roll back.
A pizza box
A rusty green dumpster
Files of an Agent Joshua Mitchell
A hierarchical map linking him to several other individuals
A strange badge with a bonsai tree
A rusty green dumpster
A pizza box
"Oh no! Oh-ho-ho no! Sarah! Casey! There's a really bad guy trying to get away!"
"I'm already on it, moron!"
Mitchell drops to the floor and turns, firing several rounds at Casey's position. Reloading, he continues to shoot whilst moving closer to the car and gets in. The Major dives out from his cover and empties an entire clip, but they impact harmlessly on the bulletproof windscreen. He swears as the car takes off, with Mitchell giving him a mock salute.
All of a sudden, a loud engine roars and a black van ploughs into the escaping vehicle and slams into the side of the building. The engine splutters and cuts out.
Casey rushes over and checks on Chuck. "Bartowski! You okay? What the hell were you thinking?"
The nerd doesn't respond and continues staring ahead with a terrified expression on his face and his hands glued to the steering wheel. Slowly turning his head to face Casey, he stutters, "Di-di-did I ge-ge-get him?"
Responding with a exasperated sigh, Casey nods. "You nailed him real good, moron."
"Are you telling me that it was the Intersect who prevented Mitchell's getaway attempt and not the two trained agents who were supposed to be guarding him?" asks General Beckman. Sarah curtly nods and Casey makes a apologetic grunt.
Beckman raises one eyebrow. "Well," she says with a hint of annoyance, "don't let it happen again. In other matters, Mitchell and Hong have been successfully taken back to a secure facility, where they are undergoing interrogation for any information they might have. In regard to the "flash" which Chuck had, the other individuals he saw are being apprehended as we speak." She pauses and takes off her glasses, slowly folding them up. "From what we've gathered so far, the badge is a symbol of the organisation he was working for and we have learnt that they have moles in the CIA and NSA. But as of right now, details are sketchy. You'll be apprised of any new developments."
"Has there been any sort of response from the North Koreans, ma'am?"
"Negative, Agent Walker, and let's hope it stays that way. Beckman out."
As soon as the briefing finishes, Sarah grabs her coat and her bag.
"Going to check on the asset, huh?" asks Casey. "Or more appropriately, going to check out the asset?"
Sarah fixes her eyes on him. "Back off with the jokes, Casey. They're not even funny."
"I beg to differ." The Major pauses. "I read up on your files and it looks like you have quite the history with the asset. Should I be worried about anything going on between the two of you?"
"No! And what kind of question is that, anyways?"
With a huff, she storms out of Casey's apartment and moments later, the "Morgan Door" swings open. She climbs in, finding Chuck lying on his bed.
"Hey Chuck," she whispers. "Are you asleep?" He snores loudly in response. "Good. I've been meaning to say this to you for a long time."
Activating a bug jamming device and sitting herself down next to him, she continues. "I like you, Chuck, I like you a lot. Probably more than a friend should and definitely more than a handler should. But I just really needed to tell you that."
The blonde sighs and draws a sharp breath in when Chuck rolls over onto her lap. The mere feeling of his warmth sends electric tingles down her spine and with a slightly shaking hand, she brushes a loose curl of his hair back into place.
"You are the best guy I've ever met in my life, Chuck Bartowski."