A/N: Thanks to Zettel for a suggestion. It was a small change but made it even better. Find something to hold on to, things begin to unfold. Walker, PI, Ch 7, The Confrontation
A/N 2: Also, if you aren't reading May Your Walls Know Joy by Halfachance, go do so right now. As a writer of single parent Chuck fics, that one had me smiling up a storm. Enough fluff! Back to the Noir
Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck.
(Italics indicate a voiceover)
We went to the hotel as my senses screamed at me. I didn't listen, I was in his trall. We told Roark's people that we needed to talk to him and Volkoff about a very serious incident. We were almost pushed away, when Chuck added in that it was about the Maltese Tiger. The Tiger's disappearance apparently wasn't public knowledge, but Roark apparently knew about. I guess that made sense given he was the Governor, and he had supported the museum over the years. We were ushered quickly to Roark's penthouse, so quickly they didn't even check us for weapons. As we were escorted I saw the change come over Chuck. Gone was the adorable, blushing man that made my heart race. The man with me was hard, had an edge, and wanted revenge. It was almost like someone had flipped a switch. His eyes gleamed in anticipation and I knew then, deep, deep down, I knew, but I couldn't believe. I didn't want to believe. It was the beginning of my downfall.
"How do the two of you know about the Maltese Tiger?" Roark asked us as we entered his office. No introduction, no pleasantries, just down to business. "I acquired that piece for the museum." I turned to Chuck. Did he know? He tried to look surprised. In the past 24 hours I'd seen a look of looks, and I knew his surprised look. That was no surprised look. That was a fake surprised look.
"There's a chance one of your own stole it," Chuck said. Roark stood. "Volkoff," Chuck said simply. Roark stared at Chuck. "See for yourself, it's in his safe. If we're wrong, we'll apologize and leave." I stared at Chuck. He had taken the back seat this entire time, and now, now he was in control. I thought about that, and the last time he was in control, a smile ghosted my lips but I had to steel my emotions. Roark picked up the phone, made a call, and told us to follow him. He led us to the mysterious vault, flanked by two security guards, and I saw a grin on Chuck Bartowski's face. Not of joy, but one that spoke of satisfaction. My mind was spinning. It kept coming back to one conclusion, but that wasn't possible. Volkoff met us, and Chuck gave him a hard look.
"Something you want to say?" Volkoff said to Chuck. Chuck just stared at him.
"No, more like something you ought to say to Mr. Roark." Chuck was certain, very certain. Too certain. His hand seemed to flinch toward something but he steadied it. Volkoff didn't notice.
"If there's a Maltese Tiger in here, it's because he stole it to sell off for superpac money." Volkoff looked very pleased with himself, like he had done no wrong. He opened the safe, and that's when all hell broke loose. Volkoff's and Roark's mouths both fell open seeing the statue. They both turned toward each other. You could see on their faces that both were shocked, but neither trusted the other. I caught Chuck's face out of the corner of my eye, and saw a flash of a smirk. I'm not a reader of emotions, but something about that look made me wonder, really wonder, not for the first time, was this all too good to be true?
"I knew I could never trust you," Volkoff screamed, grabbed a gun from one of the stunned bodyguards, and shot Roark. Roark was dead before he hit the floor. The entire room was in shock except for one person, Chuck. Chuck drew his weapon that I didn't even know he was carrying, and Volkoff turned toward him. Volkoff lifted his gun as to shoot Chuck, when Chuck's gun went off. Volkoff began to fall, as Chuck stepped in front of me, protecting me from any gunshots. As he fell, Volkoff, squeezed off a round that buried itself in the wall above Chuck's head. Chuck fired twice more, center-mass, and Volkoff was dead. Chuck lowered his weapon, looking satisfied.
For a moment I wondered how we got here. It was almost too convenient. It made little sense, but as we were taught in the academy, trying to make sense out of nonsense will drive you crazy. Chuck handed his weapon over to Captain Casey when he arrived, ending this nightmare…or so I thought.
It took a while to sort everything out, but Chuck was quickly cleared. Captain Casey told him he was free to go, and all but told him to leave. Chuck started to speak to me, but I simply told him I had a lot to do, and would call him as soon as I could. Part of me couldn't wait, and part of me….I don't know. The museum experts arrived soon to verify the artifact. When they arrived and looked at the piece, you could almost immediately see their incredulous looks. The tiger was a fake.
"All of this for a fake, seems kinda serendipitous, doesn't it Walker?" Casey asked me. I looked at him. The question made no sense and I was confused. "You know, that the two men who had Chuck's girlfriend killed had a fake statue that led to one shooting the other, and then Chuck killing Volkoff?"
"They had Chuck's girlfriend killed?"
"Best we can tell. Jill saw something she shouldn't have."
"Did Chuck know about this?" Casey looked at me. He didn't say anything for a few seconds, and when he did, he lowered his head like he couldn't look me in the eye.
"He won't be charged with anything. A politician and a mobster that were as dirty as the day is long are gone now thanks to the work you two did."
"What about the mask?" Casey shrugged.
"There was no mask reported stolen." I stood there, using all my training not to have my mouth open in shock. "Good work Walker," he said, putting on his cap and heading out the door. "Anyone needs a detective I'll send them your way." With that he was gone. I had so many questions. Where was the real tiger, who had it? Was there ever a mask? I don't know who had the real Maltese Tiger, but it didn't matter, because I had done the job I was hired for…right?
A/N: Reviews and PMs are always welcomed!
DC
