A/N 7/18/2013 - Hello everyone, welcome back to the Farm, after way, way too long. So much for getting back into a comfortable writing pattern. Chuck Versus the Lost Years really burned me to a cinder completing it, and I needed a break. Spent the last month and a half recuperating and working on other projects and real life stuff - it's that time of the year. Now I'm back at it (I hope), and it's time to move this story forward.
Thanks to my wife and somedeepmystery for providing beta on this again. I'm very fortunate, and I want them to know how much I appreciate their help. Thanks Mystery, for pointing out a pretty big problem in this chapter. You saved me from myself again!
Chuck belongs to those other guys, not me.
Sarah Versus the Farm
Chapter 9 - New Discoveries
"Let me get this straight. You're watching the guy you're supposed to be protecting, crop dusting a field right now? At night?"
Parked on the corner of a large lettuce field, Sarah Walker sat in the dark Ford pickup watching the bright lights wheel overhead accompanied by the soft whine of the turbine engine and the large three bladed prop beating the air with a thrumming sound. The waning, gibbous moon was casting a blue glow on the scene, making the outline of the big ag plane barely visible in the dark sky, the only easy way to see it being the beams from the powerful retractable lights mounted under the wings.
Sarah watched as her charge, and new secret boyfriend, Chuck Bartowski, flew in and out of the dark field, and then answered into her phone a little sheepishly, "Yeah, that about sums it up." She took a deep breath, shifting in the seat, and strumming her fingers restlessly on the steering wheel. "Can we just keep this between you and me right now, Lilly? I'm still trying to figure all of this out."
Lillian Graham laughed exuberantly, "Well, darlin', you better figure it out pretty damn quick, otherwise my husband is going to put the screws to you." The woman on the other end of the call chuckled again, "At night, good Lord. I assume because you're parked by some farm field that you're alone."
"Believe me, I had no idea they did this at night." As she almost always did, Sarah smiled when Lilly used the term of endearment she had always heard from her father. Lillian had used it shortly after meeting Sarah when she was just beginning college at Harvard and training at the Farm. At first it had freaked Sarah out, made her wonder if Lilly knew that much about her past, but a candid conversation had revealed that it had been totally spontaneous. Her boss' wife explained that she'd continued to use it after seeing Sarah's stunned reaction the first time she'd said it, saying it just seemed to fit her; and she continued to use it even after Sarah told her the reason for her surprise. "Yes, Lilly, I'm alone, and this vehicle has been swept. Do you have any ideas how I should handle this?" she asked, wincing at her own choice of words.
"You really want my opinion?"
"Yes," Sarah's fingers started to strum harder on the wheel. "Come on, Lil, what do I do with this? I don't want to ruin the guy's life more, it's already messed up enough by all of this as it is. You've seen his file."
"Well, I was about to tell you to lock him up in the basement, if he's got one."
"Lilly... dammit..."
"Relax, Sarah, I wasn't serious." There was a pregnant pause, and then Lilly said guardedly, "You know, there were a couple of people here at the ODNI who wanted to make him disappear, shove him in WITSEC. But someone put the kibosh on that, with frightening speed by Washington standards. This new job of yours is... unusual. I hope you know that."
"Tell me about it," Sarah breathed with exasperation, "Somehow I have to protect Chuck, act on any actionable intel he finds, along with that NSA burnout, Casey, and still try to keep his life reasonably intact."
"I don't think you understand, Sarah. There's even more to it. Someone very powerful is calling the shots here, and has a very strong interest in Chuck. You have to assume that whoever that someone is, they're going try to pull Mr. Bartowski into something larger at some point."
"I know that, Lilly, someone scrubbed his file. There was all sorts of important information removed or left out."
"And you know this how?"
"Lilly... " Sarah paused, trying to collect herself. She knew they were on an encrypted circuit, but had suspicions about how private the conversation really was.
Like she was reading Sarah's mind from 2600 miles away, Lillian answered, "Sarah, this call is logged, but it's not being recorded, and there's a reason for that. You can speak freely. How do you know?"
Sarah sighed, "Because it's my job to find out." Then after several seconds of silence. "And because Chuck told me. He literally comes from a family of spies, but he wants no part of it. Look, Mom, Chuck trusts me... and he's real...so real it's scary, and I trust him. How many times have you heard that from a field officer in your lifetime?"
Sarah couldn't see it, but the woman on the other end of the call raised an eyebrow, and not just for her use of the endearment 'mom'. She'd never heard Sarah utter the word trust so quickly or easily about anyone before, even her. And Lillian knew how sharp her 'daughter' was at reading people. She could tell there was something more here, and she'd seen that faraway look in her husband's eyes as he sat at his desk that morning after Sarah's call. Sarah had found someone, and it was a startling revelation given her history. It gave her a new sense of hope for her 'adopted' daughter, in spite of the complicated nature of her mission... and the rules. Rules she herself was intimately familiar with, and familiar with breaking. But the nature of Charles Bartowski's predicament worried her, and made her worry for Sarah. "This Chuck, he sounds pretty special."
Sarah took a long audible breath, "He is. And there are a lot of people depending on him. Pulling him away from here would affect many lives, not just his. I can't let that happen. I won't let that happen."
"So, Chuck wants nothing to do with the Company? You know, he sounds very naive considering his family background, Sarah. According to some files that have been dropped in our lap, he was being groomed for Project Omaha. He was on a recruitment track, but all of that came to an end when he was kicked out of the Naval Academy. Do you think he even knew that?"
"Project Omaha?" Sarah asked, shaking her head in disbelief, even as she thought of Bryce's note, "But that's... no, I don't believe he knew. Chuck wanted to be a fighter pilot, like his dad."
"Sarah, Chuck's dad was much more than just a fighter pilot."
"Just a fighter pilot?" For a Naval Aviator, calling him 'just a fighter pilot' was like saying a F-18 was just another carnival ride. It was practically an insult. "Lilly, I know he was an engineer, Chuck told me as much. But if there is more important information that you think will help me protect Chuck, I want to hear it. I need to know it." This time it was her turn to hear Lillian sigh on the other end of the line. Then Sarah heard muffled sounds and hushed conversation over the circuit that made the hair on her neck stand up. It sounded like Lilly was talking with her husband, her boss.
"Sarah, keep this to yourself. Don't share it with either Major Casey or General Beckman," Lilly finally said, "but, for many years Commander Stephen Bartowski was Project Omaha. It's one of the reasons he was pulled off of carrier duty. Langston doesn't think it was a coincidence that he ended up with this file. It showed up rather mysteriously by courier yesterday afternoon, and we don't know where it came from. And no one else seems to have it or has seen it either, not even my boss."
"What? Then how do you know it's real, Lilly? Wouldn't the DNI be privy to something like that?" Sarah's mind was reeling from this revelation, she could only imagine what Lilly and Langston were thinking.
"You'd think. But if this is true, I'm not sure yet who we can trust to tell about it. The file is codeword, and so compartmented not even we're cleared for it. Langston didn't even want to open it. I convinced him he should after he told me the codeword. It's an orphan, referenced in the current Project Omaha and Intersect project files, but until now non-existent."
Sarah's eyebrows shot up when she suddenly connected the dots. "Wait a minute. Are you telling me both Chuck and his father are mentioned in that file? The same file?"
"Not just them, darlin'. Sarah, one second, I'm putting you on speaker." Sarah could hear Lilly talking in a quiet voice to her husband, Langston Graham, apparently filling in the blanks of the one-sided conversation. She had no idea how long he'd been listening. Then suddenly, accompanied by a soft beep, their voices got louder.
"Okay, Sarah, against my better judgment, Lilly has convinced me you should know more, so I'm going to tell you," the calm, deep, but slightly distorted voice of Langston Graham, said over the encrypted circuit.
"Go on, tell her, Langston," Lilly urged, after a few seconds of silence.
When Sarah heard her boss sigh she almost blanched. In the ten years since he'd recruited her right after her seventeenth birthday, she'd never heard him utter that sound. It sounded very weird over the encrypted circuit. She suspected he and Lilly had been arguing about what to say to her and that Lilly had called her to force the issue. "Sarah, there's a whole lot more in that file than just Chuck and his dad," Graham said, with a distinct edge to his deep voice. "It's in essence the original project Omaha file, the origin of the Intersect Project and the first twenty years of R & D. Chuck's father developed it, originally for the DOD as a project to allow pilots and soldiers to be able to download mission specific briefing information and be able to access it easily during an op. He also did a couple of specialized projects for the CIA. It grew from there after the NSA got involved. They saw a potential to use it to analyze signals intel. After 911 the CIA also got more involved and it fell under a DOD/DNI jacket."
"So what does Chuck have to do with this? Why did they want him?" Sarah asked, fearing she already knew the answer.
"As the project grew, and along with it the amount of information being stored, it became obvious that only people with a very specific brain physiology could handle a download. They were trying to download virtually every piece of intelligence data the community was gathering into someone's brain. The idea was that an organic computer would be more intuitively capable of cross-correlating and finding patterns in the data. That's how it grew from a project originally using super-computers into the human Intersect Project using Commander Bartowski's image encoding techniques. The only traditional method that comes close is a distributed computing model, but the security risks using that method are too great."
"Sarah," Lilly interjected, "several volunteers died or were rendered vegetables during the initial Omaha experiments because of the massive amounts of data involved. A couple of volunteer operatives disappeared on missions without a trace, presumably because the program went haywire. So they began to carefully screen candidates for the project about ten years ago. The initial testing was started in the military academies and grew from there." The very careful way Lilly controlled and modulated her voice didn't go unnoticed by Sarah. She felt the hair start to stand up on her neck again, then she thought of Bryce's message, and her heart did a flip in her chest.
"Chuck Bartowski was on the top of that list of candidates," Langston continued, "He scored the highest of anyone tested using Stephen Bartowski's encoded image data storage and compression techniques. Bryce Larkin was on the list too, though he didn't score nearly as well as Mr. Bartowski. As more and more candidates were tested it became clear that the ideal recruit would be a one in several million occurrence, and on top of that they determined there was a genetic connection, so potentially entire families could be involved. There was a eugenic potential."
"And that's only a small part of it," Lilly said cryptically.
"What's the codeword?" After a long silence, "Please, tell me, I need to know."
"Orion," said the reluctant voices of both Lillian and Langston Graham.
Orion! Where have I seen that? Sarah thought back to earlier that very afternoon she'd spent with Chuck and the two NSA and CIA Agency analysts in Chuck's den, Nikki and Auggie. She'd seen something in there while she watched the two analysts working, after Chuck had gone to take a nap for the work he was doing now. What? A photo on the wall? Damn, think, Walker, what was it!
"Sarah, darlin', are you still there?" she heard Lilly ask curiously over the line.
"Huh? Oh, I'm sorry. Yes, I'm still here. Um, Boss, Lilly? Can we continue this later? I might have some additional information, but I need to check something out first."
"Very well, Agent Walker, this call has gone on too long as it is. There's more to this, and we'll discuss it at your briefing tomorrow," said Langston Graham, slipping back into his role as her superior officer. "I must reiterate how important it is that you not repeat any of this to anyone. For the time being this information is to stay between the three of us, is that clear?"
"Even Mr. Bartowski, sir? This directly affects him." And me too, if I withhold this from him!
"No, you'll have to keep-"
The line suddenly went quiet for several seconds and Sarah began to wonder if the call had dropped. "Let her tell him, Langston. I think he can be trusted, and he deserves to know... all of it," said Lilly, with a low steely voice.
- II -
Sarah sat in the pickup truck, her mind a jumbled mess. The information that her surrogate parents had just shared with her was blending together with all the other things she'd seen and heard today since she and Chuck had returned to his house from her first morning working for him.
The briefing that afternoon with General Beckman had been more about questions than it was about assignments or answers. Diane Beckman had spent most of the time asking probing questions about Chuck and his family, clearly curious about Chuck's back-story and the gaps in his dossier. Sarah had been evasive then, and was obviously going to have to be even more evasive in the future, given all that she knew now. She wondered how she was going to keep it all from Major Casey. The man was no dummy. No one rose to his position in the Special Activities Division without the careful application of a brilliant mind.
Casey was an enigma, because he was NSA, but he was also a member of CIA's SAD, so Sarah really didn't know where his loyalties lay. His boss was a brigadier general in the NSA, but most of his assignments were done under the auspices of SAD. However, he clearly didn't like the CIA. His orders to capture or sanction Chuck had come from the NSA, so they had an interest of their own in him, and after talking to her boss she now understood why. It was a confusing situation; one she didn't quite know how to approach yet. Still, she had started to build an uneasy rapport with the Major over the last couple of days. They had a delicate job to do, and needed to function as a team. That came to the forefront when the General finally got into the meat of why she'd called the briefing, and stated that Bryce Larkin had been spotted in Las Vegas a few days ago. That could only spell trouble, for any number of reasons. He was close to them, too close, and the question was, why?
Sarah was pulled from her thoughts abruptly when Chuck's voice came over the radio. "That's the last of this load, Sarah, I'm headed back. Only two more to go. You've been awful quiet down there."
"I didn't want to disrupt your concentration, Chuck," she deflected, with a small frown. It wasn't a very good excuse, because they'd been chatting over the radio before Lilly had called. "I'll be waiting here for you, give me a call when you get to the pad and when you're on your way back, okay?"
"Roger, Wilco. I will make it so," Chuck answered cheerily, "We should be done here in about an hour and a half. Hope you're not getting bored with this, sittin' around in the dark, and all."
Sarah snorted a short laugh. Far from bored right now, Chuck. If only you knew. "Somehow boring isn't the word that comes to mind watching you do this...or trying to watch you do this, I should say."
"Right. I think I get it. Don't worry about it, Sarah, I've been working at night for a while now. It's no big deal."
Thanks, but that's not what I'm worried the most about. "I'm fine, Chuck, don't you worry about me, just concentrate on what you're doing." Chuck's response was a double-click on his microphone switch in acknowledgement, and with that, Sarah returned to her turbulent thoughts and strumming her fingers on the steering wheel.
The sound of Chuck's plane faded away, and the night became very quiet again. A cool spring breeze blew through the open windows prompting Sarah to pull the zipper higher on her fleece vest. She froze with her fingers on the zipper pull when she heard what sounded like gravel crunching under the sole of a shoe.
"Hi Sarah."
Sarah looked up to the driver's side window with a start to see a man standing next to her, half his face cast in the cool glow of the moonlight, a green John Deere ball-cap pulled low on his head. Her hand became a blur moving for the door handle, and the door shot forcefully open, propelled by her foot on the kick panel. The edge of the door struck the man on one of his knees with a crack, before the window frame came in solid contact with the side of his face and he flew onto his back in a cloud of blue-gray moonlit dust. A brief strangled howl came from him, cut off abruptly by Sarah's forearm on his throat, her foot on his damaged knee, and a very scary double-edged fighting knife, scant inches from his face.
"Goddammit, Sarah, I think you cracked my kneecap!"
"Be thankful I didn't do more, Bryce," she growled back, pressing her arm into his throat. Sarah flicked the cap off of his head with the knife blade, murder showing in her eyes. "Lace your fingers together on top of your head, NOW!" As he complied with her order, she couldn't help but notice that even in the dark Bryce looked a little rough when she got in his face and brought the blade of the knife closer. "What the hell do you think you're doing sneaking up on me like that?!"
"Obviously, not getting on your better side," he said with a shrill wheeze, from the weight of her arm on his throat and the pain from the blows he'd received. He started to move, but stopped with a sharp gasp when Sarah shifted her weight onto the foot pressing on his knee. "Jesus, Sarah, I'm sorry, all right? Next time I'll call first! That would go over real well with Casey's buddies at Echelon."
Sarah's growl was deep and guttural, "What have you gotten yourself into, Bryce, and why have you pulled Chuck into this? Wasn't trying to ruin his life one time enough?"
"Oh, is that what this is really about? Me ruining Chuck's life? I didn't have much of a choice in the matter. Listen, Sarah, Chuck is my friend. Fulcrum was on to me and ACK-"
"Who, or what is Fulcrum?" Sarah didn't ask the question nicely, bringing the dagger point of the knife blade to his throat. "And tell me why I shouldn't end you right here?"
"Damn Sarah, I gave you that knife! If you're going to kill me, please, at least use something else."
"Answers, Bryce. NOW."
"Will you at least let me up?"
She put more weight on his knee, smirking at his sudden grimace, "NO."
"All right, all right," Bryce hissed, through his clenched teeth, "I get it. You're upset with me. Jeez. Fulcrum is the reason I destroyed the Intersect lab and sent it to Chuck's servers. They're a rogue CIA faction aligned with some very powerful technology and industrial interests. They were going to steal it. In fact, I was posing as a double and they sent me to do the job. I did all this to keep it out of their hands."
"Continue." A drop of Bryce's blood trickled onto the razor sharp tip of the knife.
"That's really about it! Ask your dad and mom for more details," he said snidely, "I'm sure they'll be happy to provide them. I went off-grid because everyone was chasing me, including you and your 'parents'. Chuck was the safest place to send it in the time I had. I knew the IP address of his servers so I sent it to them for safe keeping-"
"I read your damn note, Bryce. You set Chuck up! You intentionally set it up so he would download it! You shouldn't have done that to him. You say you're his friend, but you took away his choice. Why? God, I want to off you for that," she said, her voice getting lower and more menacing as she spoke.
"Sarah, please, Chuck was the last place they would look. Nobody believes the human Intersect is viable, at least not yet. No one would think to look for it in his head."
"Then why not download it yourself? You were a candidate too, why involve Chuck in this? How could you do this to him? Why would you do that to Chuck?" Sarah was a little surprised by how much emotion came from her when she uttered his name.
Bryce cocked his head to the side with a jerk, looking at her curiously. "How did you know I was a candi-"
"Isn't it enough that I know?" she asked icily, pressing the edge of the blade into his throat. Dammit! DAMMIT!
Bryce gulped. Sarah could see a hint of fear hiding in the back of his eyes, but it wasn't completely from being threatened by her. When he finally spoke it was the last thing she expected to hear, but it was typical cocky Bryce. "Wow, you and Chuck are moving fast. You really do care about him."
"You son-of-a-bitch. You were afraid to do it."
Bryce nodded his head as much as the blade to his throat would allow, swallowing thickly. "Yes, a little. Look, I'm a borderline candidate for this version of the Intersect, and I would have been captured anyway because the download would have incapacitated me for a while. Chuck is the best candidate for it, his retention scores are the highest ever seen. He is the best choice for this. He always was."
"But you shouldn't have tricked him into it! You knew the risks. You shouldn't have done this to your friend. You wouldn't do this to your friend," Sarah said, trailing off with an exasperated sigh. She couldn't reconcile this with the man she knew so intimately and had worked so well with in Spain. Bryce had always been all about the mission, but there was more to this.
"I know, it was rash," Bryce answered, in almost a whisper. "Like you said, you read the note. I was following orders when I got Chuck kicked out of the Academy, and I went along with it. They were going to dash his dream of being a carrier pilot anyway by pulling him into Omaha. I didn't want him in Omaha either, Chuck's not built to be a spy, but the way we did it to him was wrong. I took away his choice then, too. It was wrong."
"So was causing the breakup with his fiance."
Bryce frowned, his gaze falling from her as he looked blankly away. "Yeah, well that wasn't what everyone thought. I didn't really steal Jill from him, but I did trample on a lot of his dreams."
"He found a new dream, and you may have just taken that away from him, too. Damn you, Bryce."
"I'm really surprised they're still letting him fly crop dusters-" He clammed up when he saw the fury burning brightly in Sarah Walker's blue eyes.
Sarah practically stood on Bryce's knee as she rose up, and swiftly kicked him in the side of the face. The force of the blow sent him rolling away, and he quickly scrambled into a crouch, staring at her as he wiped some blood from the corner of his mouth.
"Okay, maybe that was the wrong thing to say."
"Ya think?! Why are you here, Bryce? So help me God, if you compromised our security, I will turn you into a eunuch if I don't kill you first!"
Bryce looked back at her wide-eyed. He knew better than to take a threat from his former partner idly. "I came here to warn you, Sarah. Fulcrum figured out where I sent the Intersect. They have some very talented people of their own working at Roark Instruments. They don't know exactly where it went, but they're damn close. Once they figure out who Chuck is, they're going to try to see if he's connected to all this. It's only a matter of time. I'm trying to help."
After a moment of very uneasy silence the blue fire in Sarah's eyes began to dim, and she bit her lower lip. "Why me, Bryce?"
"Isn't that obvious? I meant what I said in my note. I was hoping that you would take Chuck's protection a little more than professionally. I wanted someone who would maybe have a more personal stake in it. I see I was right. And there were other motives, too," he said cryptically.
Sarah narrowed her eyes as she stared him down in an effort to keep him from seeing the truth of his statement. The last thing she wanted her cocky former partner to see, was that he was a successful matchmaker as well. He had a big enough head as it was. "That doesn't sound like you, Bryce. You've always said personal entanglements will get people killed."
"Yeah, they sure drilled that into us at the Farm, didn't they? It didn't seem to hurt us much, though."
"That was different, we weren't emotionally attached that way." she said, probably a little too coldly judging by his reaction, which got her attention. She wasn't going to admit it, but she thought she did love Bryce, though it was different, nothing like... her breath caught in her throat.
"Maybe you weren't... though I'm not sure I believe you... Mrs. Anderson... " he said, letting his voice trail off as he held her gaze.
"Why are you doing this?" she asked, skeptical of his veiled proclamation.
"Lots of reasons, some I'm not at liberty to discuss, but mostly because I care about you and Chuck."
"Yeah, sure, actions, not words, Bryce. And you're still withholding, like you always have," Sarah huffed derisively. He surprised her again when he showed her a bare hint of a wince from her rebuff. "You can't stay here. For a lot of reasons we shouldn't have to rehash."
"I know. I need to disappear for a while. Got any ideas?"
"Besides burying you in a shallow grave? Yes, one. Just a second." Sarah walked back to the truck and pulled a note pad and pencil from the console, and jotted some numbers and some brief text on it before tearing the sheet off. "I'm guessing you have some decent transportation?" she asked, passing him the scrap of paper on the tip of her Harsey Applegate-Fairbairn knife blade.
"Yeah, I've got an old pickup truck parked about a half mile away," Bryce replied warily, watching the moonlight glint off the sharp edges of the blade, "I'm glad to see you're still carrying that, it's very rare, like you." She smiled thinly at him when he shuffled up to her with a limp, and carefully plucked the note from the blade.
"You have good taste in blades."
"And women, too."
"Keep it zipped, Bryce," Sarah said warningly, "Not now. Not after all of this."
"Understood," he said, with a wry smile and a curt nod, "Can't blame a guy for trying."
"In this case, yes, I can. Don't go there again. Ever." Sarah waved the tip of the blade to make her point clear. "Those are the coordinates to a place you can hole up for a while. Stay there, and wait for someone to contact you."
"That's it? This is all you're giving me? Where is this place?"
"Sarah, I'm airborne. I'll be back out there in about five minutes," said Chuck Bartowski, his voice cutting through their conversation from the radio speaker in the truck like the blade of Sarah's knife.
Sarah quickly strode to the cab and picked up the mic. "It's about time, I was beginning to wonder about you."
"Yeah, well, I got waylaid by Casey for a few minutes. He's making a point of seeing to it that I know he's around keeping an eye on me."
"That's not too surprising. Just humor him, if that's possible. See you in a few," Sarah said, tucking her knife back into the scabbard in her boot while she eye-balled Bryce askance.
"Roger Dodger. Prepare for another dazzling display of low level flying you can barely see," Chuck quipped.
"Don't get cocky, Chuck."
"Yes, ma'am," he replied contritely.
"You took the words right out of my mouth," mumbled Bryce.
"You're one to talk, Bryce." Sarah said, turning back to him with a smile. She gestured to the note he was still holding out questioningly, "Yes, that's all you get. You're a smart boy, I'm sure you'll figure out how to get there. Lay low until we can figure out how to bring you in. Now go, before Chuck gets here."
Bryce picked up his cap, shaking the dust out of it, then putting it back on his head. "Be careful with Casey."
"I think you should follow your own advice."
He grinned back at her, his teeth glowing in the moonlight "Don't worry, I will. And, Sarah, you're wrong about me not caring about you and Chuck." Then Bryce Larkin disappeared back into the night, with a limp.
- III -
"Major Casey, I assume you're getting the surveillance and security set up at both locations so we can keep a close eye on the Intersect?"
"Yes, General. I've had a crew out here at the house most of the day installing cameras. They'll be out at the airport doing the same tonight. The job will likely take a few days to complete. They didn't get as far today as I would have liked. Too many prying eyes around here."
"Good. The delays are understandable, push the work through as fast as you can. I want you to pay particular attention to anything the Intersect says, any clues that may help us determine where we may find more information about his family's past. The dossier we have on Mr. Bartowski is sorely lacking, it's been scrubbed by someone, and I want to find out who that someone is. I think the Intersect may provide us some clues."
John Casey sat at the desk in his motor coach, regarding the auburn haired woman on the monitor carefully, trying to see anything that might point to what she was thinking, but she kept her thoughts hidden well, behind her stern facade and penetrating gaze. There was no doubt in his mind she had her own agenda, and he'd allowed himself to be pulled into it when the hunt for Bryce Larkin began. The fact that he'd been ordered to terminate Larkin wasn't too surprising to him, given that the fellow NSA officer had gone rogue, but when he'd been ordered to sterilize the entire operation, including possibly terminating a civilian and a CIA field officer in good standing, it had become disturbing.
Something was terribly amiss with all this, and he knew he needed to get to the bottom of it. It bothered him greatly that the harsh words of a civilian - but admittedly, almost a Naval officer - were what it took to make him finally think about it. John Casey followed orders, but he was no drone. "I'll keep my eyes and ears open ma'am. If I discover anything of value you'll be the first to know."
"Major Casey, I know what you're thinking. We were pushed into taking some drastic measures because of all of this. The subject's incomplete briefing jacket was the cause of some of it, and it appears that this agency was manipulated. Even if you see something you don't think is of value, I want to know about it, from any source," General Beckman said rather pointedly, "Someone is withholding information, trying to use us, and I want to know who it is."
"Are you telling me you want me to include Agent Walker in my surveillance, General?"
"Yes, within reason. You're not to eavesdrop on her when she's alone, and her communications with Langley are off limits, but she's fair game if she's with the subject."
"Do you think she or someone else in the CIA is involved?"
"At this point I can't say. I see Fulcrum's hand in this. The question is, how far have they penetrated our organizations? Until we find out if Larkin was actually turned we're shooting in the dark. Walker's past association with him raises red flags. So, for the time being, no sources are off the table."
"Yes, ma'am, understood." The Major suppressed a scowl. What he was being asked to do here wasn't the best way to build trust or a cohesive team. If he was discovered, and Walker was a savvy operative, so that was a definite risk, there would be repercussions, possibly big ones. Given the information they had, ninety-nine percent of the time he wouldn't have cared about spying on a colleague, but he sensed he was in that one percent territory with this one.
"Then that is all Major Casey, I'll expect answers along with the dailies." The General severed the connection, and Casey sat staring at the blank screen, this time with a scowl.
- IV -
"Is everything okay? You seem to be a little preoccupied."
When they'd driven off the airport property Sarah had seen the Company trucks waiting to drive in to begin their work. Her mind was racing a million miles a minute, trying to process all the things she'd learned in the last few hours. Chuck had been working the whole time and was completely in the dark to all of it. She could see he was still mentally debriefing from his day in the cockpit, but there was no doubt he could also still see she was preoccupied by something. Did he just say something to me? She turned to see him gazing at her with a funny look on his face. "I'm sorry Chuck, did you say something to me?"
"Uh, huh," he chuckled, "I asked if you were okay, but I can tell you're not. What's up?"
"We need to talk," she gave him a wisp of a smile and laid her hand on his shoulder, "In private. I need to show you that note."
"Note?"
"The message from Bryce, Chuck. You need to see it, and we need to talk about some other things, too, but not at the house."
He looked at her confused, "Oh, that note. Okay. It's late, and I've had a long day. Forgive me if my brain isn't moving as fast as it should, but, what are you talking about? Are you saying there isn't anywhere in my house we can talk privately?"
Sarah rolled her eyes, and sighed. "Yes. C'mon Chuck, didn't I make it clear by my actions last night? Your house is probably bugged now. It is bugged," she said with obvious frustration.
Chuck stared at her in shock, like it was now all finally sinking in. "Sarah, it's my home! We can't talk in my own home now without it becoming the property of the national security apparatus, or maybe a weapon to be used against us? Sarah, I never wanted this, I didn't sign on for this! It's wrong. What Bryce did to me was wrong, what the Agency is doing to me is wrong. I'm not a tool for the CIA to use and throw away, I can't, I won't, I am so done with this! I want out! I want this damn thing out of my head right this-"
"Not now, Chuck!" Sarah sighed deeply, letting her hand travel up to rub his neck. "Don't go there, not now." As she stroked his jaw with her thumb, she watched the distress and confusion flooding his face, and knew right away that the next few days were not going to be easy. "You can, Chuck. You can do this. You have to. And I'll help you."
"It's not right, Sarah," Chuck said weakly, "I shouldn't be constantly watched, or afraid to talk in my own home. I can understand having security, but monitoring my every move... isn't that why you and Casey are here?"
"Yes, it is. But the surveillance is an extra layer. It's there for your protection, Chuck... mostly." She smiled a little guardedly at him, a smile that never made it into her eyes. "I need time to find out where all the devices are located, and I'll see what I can do to minimize the ones inside the house, okay? Until then we have to assume every room has cameras and listening devices." When he nodded grimly, keeping his eyes on the road, Sarah reached for his hand. "Are you hungry? It's been a while since we've had anything to eat. Maybe we could talk over a midnight snack somewhere?"
"Sure. I know just the place," he replied, looking over at her with a forced, thin and crooked smile. "How does breakfast sound?"
Sarah lowered her visor, ostensibly to look at her lip gloss in the mirror on the back of it, but was really looking at the road behind them. "Breakfast sounds good," she said, satisfied they didn't have a tail.
They sat next to each other in one of the corner booths of Milt's Coffee Shop, off of highway 99. Chuck pushed the screen closed on his Dell notebook, and looked over at her. The confusion on his face was stronger than ever, but it was now blended with a lot of other emotions Sarah didn't quite know how to decipher. After a brief look around the quiet diner, occupied by mostly truck drivers and younger people at this time of night, he said in a whisper, "I remember that testing. No wonder I got an 'A' in that class. I guess that explains 'why me' some."
Sarah gave him a pursed lipped nod of agreement.
"So, you know Bryce?" Chuck's words sounded more like a statement than a question.
Sarah studied his eyes, wondering where this line of questioning could go. "Yes, I do."
"How well?"
Damn. "We were partnered on a few missions overseas; Spain, and other places around the Mediterranean mostly. He knows me pretty well."
Chuck gestured to his notebook, "That well?"
"Yes." Sarah took his hand, when he looked down into his lap a little crestfallen. "Hey, apparently he knows you fairly well, too." She squeezed Chuck's hand firmly to get him look back up at her. "He set us up pretty good, didn't he?"
"Yeah," Chuck replied, the corner of his mouth turning up in that crooked cartoon grin she was starting to find herself defenseless against, "I'm not sure what to make of that."
Sarah looked briefly around the restaurant, then smiling a little demurely, leaned in to give him a soft kiss. "For some reason I find it incredibly irritating... that he was right, again. I'm not complaining though. Like he said, I think he was trying make up for some past transgressions."
"Jill."
She gave his hand another squeeze, "Yeah, Jill. He probably feels pretty bad about that. You never mentioned being engaged to someone. That was some bomb you dropped in the hangar the other day."
"It didn't seem relevant at the time. It slipped out in the hangar. Sorry to drop it on you that way."
"It's okay. Do you want to talk about it?"
"Nothin' to say really," he said, staring at their clasped hands in his lap. "When I got drummed out, it all sort of just fell apart for Jill and me. We were both on the career track. It would have been hard on us from the get go, what with the likelihood of different postings and deployments, and all. Maybe it was all for the better."
That felt almost like a punch in the gut to Sarah. What they were doing could potentially be much harder, and the thought was sobering. She felt like she had to say something. "You know, Chuck, it isn't going to be any easier for us. Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Having second thoughts, Agent Walker?" he asked, with a wan smile. "I kind of put my foot in it again there, didn't I? I may start wearing my old Chuck Taylor basketball shoes again. See if they taste any better than these boots."
Sarah smiled, fidgeting in her seat for a second, then turned to him scooting a little closer. "No. No second thoughts. It was a huge decision for me, but once it was made... no, I'm not backing away from it." She leaned in, and this time Chuck met her half way. The kiss was soft, but this time it lingered, as they both seemed to be trying to make a point with it.
The sound of a young woman clearing her throat pulled them back from the brink, and they looked at their waitress with a little embarrassment. "Sorry to interrupt your obvious fun," she said, clearing their plates from the table, "but I thought maybe I should take care of this before it became impossible. Can I get anything more for you?"
Chuck read the name tag on the pretty young lady's uniform, and returned her smile sheepishly, "How about a warm up of the coffee, Alex, and maybe a slice of that wonderful apple pie, with a slice of melted cheddar cheese on top."
He looked at Sarah questioningly from the corner of his eye, like he was being a bad influence on her. "With cheese on top?" She started to pull a face.
"Hey, don't knock it 'til you've tried it," Chuck said a little defensively.
"It's really very, very good," Alex said, with a vigorous nod of encouragement, "especially with Mark's recipe. He's the owner, and he's a wizard with pies."
"Okay," Sarah acquiesced with a slight tilt of her head and a grin, "When in Rome. Make it two."
"Gotcha. Two slices of pie and more coffee coming up." Alex started to turn back towards the kitchen and stopped short to look at them again with a sly grin. "For what it's worth, you look really cute together. Back in a minute," she said with a wink.
Chuck and Sarah watched her walk away a little stunned. "I'll take that as a ringing endorsement," he said, somewhat deadpan.
"Yeah it did sound like one, didn't it?" Sarah coyly giggled. She turned to him again and gave him a quick peck, bringing her hand to his cheek, then her smile turned a little more serious. "Chuck, there's a couple more things we need to talk about. I had a talk with my boss and his wife tonight. They gave me some additional information, and I've been allowed to share it with you, but you can't share it with anyone else."
"Both your boss and his wife work for the Agency?"
"No, not exactly. Lilly works for the Director of National Intelligence, and he's my boss'... boss. It's complicated."
"Sounds like it."
"You don't know the half of it," she replied, with a wry grin. "It's a long story, but the abridged version is that Langston and Lilly have been like surrogate parents to me since I was recruited right out of high school."
"Yer kidding." Chuck gave her an incredulous crosswise look, "Right out of high school?"
"Nope. Not kidding. Like I said, it's a long story. One for later." If ever. "Chuck... about your dad..."
- V -
The drive home had been very quiet. Sarah had volunteered to drive them since Chuck was so unquestionably lost in his own thoughts. He had a lot to absorb, and many things to think about. The only thing he'd said all the way back was, "I can't believe my dad designed this thing I have in my head."
To be perfectly honest, she was having trouble with that too. But something she had seen today in Chuck's den was setting all kinds of alarm bells off in her own head. Sarah just couldn't remember or make the connection to what it was, and it was driving her nuts. As a result, their usual easy banter had been squashed under the weight of their own thoughts. When they turned onto the access road to the house, she looked at him again and reminded him what she'd told him in the restaurant before they got in the truck. "Remember, Chuck, don't talk to anyone about what I told you. It stays between us."
"Roger Wilco," he said with a curt nod, "Lock it down. I understand."
"I better not even hear you talking about it in your sleep," she said, with a smile that mixed oddly with her tone of voice.
"That sounds... promising... in a threatening kind of way," he replied with that crooked grin that caused her smile to grow.
When they pulled into the driveway in front of the house and got out of the truck, the door on Casey's motor coach swung open and he glared at her and Chuck, tapping his watch. It was late, and she was sure the big NSA agent had been wondering where they'd gotten off to. "Chuck, I'll be in, in a minute. I have to talk to Major Casey."
"Thas' fine," he said waving his hand absently, still conspicuously lost in his thoughts. "I'm getting ready for bed. Gonna get up late in the morning, though," he warned, "Kyle's got the early shift, and I'm taking the night shift for the next couple of days. I may take a load or two out in the afternoon if the wind cooperates. Figured you'd want to know, so you don't expect me to roust you at zero-dark-thirty again." He smiled shyly at her, his eyes a little vacant. "I'll leave the lights on for you."
"Okay. Thank you. I'll be taking advantage of that." She watched him walk a bit sluggishly up the porch steps, suddenly wishing she could be climbing into bed with him. "Good night, Chuck."
"Night," he waved over his shoulder turning just far enough for her to see his tired smile. "Night, Casey."
"Hnmg."
Sarah turned to see Casey studying the entire exchange with a casualness that was anything but casual. "So where'd you get off to?" he asked, a little gruffly.
"Like you didn't already know. I assumed since we weren't tailed you had a tracker activated. Chuck's phone?"
Casey answered with an almost non-existent smirk, "And your watch, of course. Not that I don't trust you Walker. Well, I don't really trust you... not yet. Guess you and the flyboy had breakfast, huh?"
"Yeah. Neither of us had eaten since this afternoon. It seemed like a good idea." Although my stomach is saying otherwise at the moment.
Casey answered with another grunt. It sounded like one of simple agreement. Apparently even former Recon Marine NSA agents ate occasionally. "Just so you know, security is being installed, Walker. You'll have an encrypted feed to your laptop and the small all-in-one workstation in your room."
"I figured as much," Sarah answered, fixing her eyes on his, "Just so you know, Major, I'll be conducting careful daily sweeps, and I better not find anything not already on my surveillance feed. And certain areas will be off limits, or at least curtailed. We'll discuss that more at our morning briefing."
"I figured as much," Casey said quickly, throwing it back at her steely eyed, "How far are you carrying this cover relationship with Bartowski anyway? How far are you willing to take it to keep him compliant? Or is that what it's really about?"
Sarah looked back at him warily dropping her eyebrows. "I'm going to sell it, Casey, and my methods are none of your damn business. But I will tell you this, if sleeping with Chuck is what it's going to take to keep surveillance out of his bedroom, then I'll probably do it. Watching him in his own bedroom is a rotten way to treat him. If he finds out he's being monitored that closely, it could cost us dearly. He's already freaking out about the level of our presence in his home. He didn't want or ask for any of this."
"Doesn't matter what he wants, he's government property now." That caused Sarah to square off with him, and her stare became instantly menacing. "I'm not trying to pick a fight with you, CIA," Casey said, dryly, "I'm only pointing out the obvious, whether either of us likes it or not. Seems like you're going a little soft, Walker."
"Seems to me you are looking for a fight, Major," Sarah growled, stepping into his personal space, "Be careful what you wish for, you'll find out I'm a lot harder than I look. I really don't think you have a clear picture of the situation, so let me spell it out. Chuck will be considered a member of this team, and he'll be treated like one. If you try to make him forcibly compliant, there will be hell to pay, and probably not just from me. It seems he has friends in high places. Our superiors may be calling him an asset, but I'm not sure that's going to fly in the long run."
The NSA officer raised an eyebrow, "What do you know about this guy, Walker? If I find that you're withholding, or you've been compromised in a way that jeopardizes this mission I will recommend you be yanked off this detail, faster than you can say flyboy."
"The mission is my priority, Casey. There won't be one without Chuck, and if I find that your priorities or loyalties aren't in the right place," Sarah said, poking him in the chest with her finger, and returning his glare, "I'll make your life much more difficult than you can ever imagine." We'll see whose boss has more pull with the DNI.
"Hnmg." The corner of the Major's mouth turned up ever so slightly,"Still haven't answered my question, but I do like your style, Walker. You've got spunk. This might even turn out to be fun."
"I guess we'll have to wait and see about that, won't we?" Sarah's demeanor softened a bit, and she took a half step back out of his space, giving him a hint of a smile, "I'm hitting the rack, Major. I'll see you in the morning." She turned, and then walked toward the house.
"It'll be early, Walker, as a matter of fact about two hours from now. I'm expected at the airport this morning. Have to keep up appearances, you know, and do some maintenance on your airplane."
Sarah groaned loudly as she walked up the steps. "Oh, that's comforting."
- VI -
Sarah opened the unlocked front door and paused a moment to look at the very old lock. Great. Just swell. How am I going to convince him to change this? She latched the very marginal lock and walked silently through the living room turning off the lights as she went. Pausing in the passageway to the hall, she looked at the rustic and eclectic room before turning off the last light. The place astounded her. It held a charm that was the work of generations, and seeing it only strengthened her resolve. Somehow she was going to find a way to make all this work, for Chuck, she told herself, but maybe for her too. There was something strangely appealing about this house, to even her restless, traveler's spirit. It felt like home, a place to rest her weary feet after a long journey.
She looked down the hall toward Chuck's room. Curiously, the light was still on. She vacillated for a moment in the hallway, wondering if she should go in, and then paced down the passage to her own room. Chuck had turned the light on for her. Her eyes swept the room, first seeing the small modular PC sitting on a 'new' antique looking desk near the window. Something else caught her eye, and when the scent hit her she broke into a watery smile. Resting on her pillow was a stem of gardenias from the bush by the front door. She thought she had hidden it, her attraction for the flowers the first time she'd seen them, but he'd noticed. It was so strange to her how Chuck could see the most esoteric of details, and yet sometimes completely miss the most overt things when they were right there in front of him.
Picking up the branch with shiny leaves and delicate vanilla colored flowers, she brought them to her nose. This man was so sweet. How did he find himself here, with a hardened operative in his house, pulled into this world of which he wanted no part? Sarah felt terrible for him, and yet fortunate at the same time; because she knew they would never have met under any other circumstances. What a strange twist in the road fate had thrown in front of them. All she wanted to do right now was run down that road and see where it led. Setting the flowers back on the bed she went to her wardrobe and changed into a tank top. For a moment she pondered the merits of a pair of flannel lounge pants she'd brought. Even though it was the month of May the house had still cooled off at this early hour of the morning so she pulled them on and went to her bathroom to get ready for bed.
A few minutes later, her face washed, and her hair now loose, flowing over her shoulders, she went to her door to turn off the overhead light. Light was still spilling down the hallway from Chuck's room. Huh, that's odd. Figured he'd be out by now.
Padding down the hallway, she paused at the doorway to the den, staring into the darkness of the windowless room. She smiled when she reached for the switch by the door and turned the wall sconces on, suddenly engulfed in the memory of what she and Chuck had done in here last night. The way her heart did a little flip when she looked in stunned her. She'd been right. There was simply no way she was ever going to be able to look at this room the same way again. She walked into the den and stood in the middle of it for a moment, letting the memories wash over her. Sarah wasn't one to normally be sentimental, but something about last night had hit a spot deep down inside. It was firmly ensconced in a place she'd rarely accessed in her life, a place she'd placed barriers around, and the feeling thrilled her and frightened her at the same time.
Last night had been filled with wild passion, and something else she'd never experienced before. It had been a connection much more intimate than just the physical joining of two people. That strange and wonderful connection had filled a void she had almost forgotten was even in her. It left her wanting more. Thinking about it again made her realize she'd made the right decision when she'd decided to jump into the deep end with Chuck. This wasn't going to be easy, but somehow she was going to make it work. She wanted to hold onto this feeling, nurture it, feel it grow.
As she looked around the room with a silly grin on her face her eyes fell on a picture on the wall near the desk. It was a photograph of the night sky presumably taken through one of the telescopes at Chuck's observatory up at the cabin. It was surrounded by a grouping of similar pictures, but something about this one stood out. It was the small brass plate on the bottom of the frame. All the rest of the pictures had little captions printed in gold leaf in crisp engineer's script on the corners of them, but this one larger picture had that little plaque.
Then it hit her, the thing she'd been trying to remember seeing in this room that had been driving her crazy all evening trying to recall it. Sarah walked up to the picture and read the inscription already knowing what it would say. M42 The Orion Nebula. Orion! On the bottom of the plaque was a symbol. It was three of the Greek letters - omicron - connected by two horizontal bars. She stood there studying it and the picture for a few seconds. This must be where Stephen got his codename. I have to show this to Chuck.
After a moment it occurred to her that she was lingering, and she looked around the room, trying to make it look casual, but still taking in every detail. If there wasn't at least one camera already in here, there soon would be. This room was important, and it would soon be even more important, when Chuck started to do the reports for his dailies from this workstation.
The analysts who'd been here this afternoon would be back tomorrow to set his computers up for that, providing them with a secure link to Fort Meade and Langley. They hadn't found a scrap of anything related to the Intersect, Bryce had done his job well, but they had determined that Chuck's computers would be perfect for the work they had planned for him. All it would require was another processor blade and another hard drive bay in the server rack. But because of that, the room would now have to be made more secure and kept under surveillance. Sarah turned off the lights and walked out of the den knowing Chuck would hate this, the blatant invasion of his private space, but there was little they could do about it. His den was going to be commandeered for use by Project Intersect.
The lights in Chuck's bedroom were still on, so Sarah strode silently down the hallway, pausing at the doorway to peek in. A big smile lit her face when she saw him sprawled across his bed, stripped down to his t-shirt and stocking feet, but still wearing his Wrangler jeans. God, that cute Wrangler butt. He was out like a light, his breathing slow and even, as he lay on his stomach atop the quilt bedspread with his arms wrapped around the pillow he'd pulled under his head.
Sarah had to suppress a laugh when she recognized the wedding ring pattern on the quilt under him. It seemed strangely out of place in a bachelor's bedroom, but endearing at the same time. The sight of him laying on it sent her mind to a place she never expected it might go. He looked so peaceful, and he looked so adorable, and he was eligible, so eligible. She shook the thought from her head. No way, girl, not you, she thought, exhaling sharply. But, I can't leave him like this. He's going to get chilled if I don't at least cover him up. God, listen to me rationalize, I only want to touch him.
Standing over him at the edge of the bed for a moment, she considered the problem. Her eyes traveled to a large colorful afghan draped across the back of one of the armchairs next to the Franklin stove. No, do this right. He should be under the covers. She gently sat on the edge of the bed and laid her hand on his back. He stirred immediately, looking up at her from under hooded eyelids, "Uhm, hey," he said sleepily, "Was waitin' up fer you. Wanted to say g'night. Must'a dozed off."
"Hi, Chuck. You didn't have to wait up, but thank you. Let's get you to bed okay? Let me help you." After a second of hesitation Sarah rolled him over and pulled his pants off of him. She smirked when his eyes went wide for a second when she unbuttoned his pants and pulled down the zipper, and he quickly reached for his boxers as they slid down a bit when she pulled the pants out from under his butt. He recovered quickly though, and gave her a sleepy knowing grin. "You had me wondering if you'd forgotten I'd already seen you like that," she teased, then bit her lip hard. Dammit, I hate this!
"Nah, I hadn't forgotte-"
Two of Sarah's fingers pressed to his lips cut him short, an apology clearly written on her face. She sighed when he first looked at her confused, but then frowned under her fingertips. "I'm sorry," she whispered, shaking her head subtly. Leaning over him to get close to his ear, she grasped the edge of the quilt to pull it down, "I need to check this room to see if it's clear. Right now, we just don't know."
Chuck nodded almost imperceptibly back to her with a quiet, exasperated sigh. "I hate this," he breathed.
"I know," Sarah replied, comforted by the way her thoughts and his words had matched. With a wan smile, she pulled the covers down, helping him slide tiredly onto the sheets. She pulled the socks from his feet, and then drew the bedding over him, watching the pained expression in his eyes when he pulled the covers the rest of the way up under his chin. "Good night, Chuck."
"Night, Sarah," he said somberly, "sleep tight."
"You, too." Sarah turned off the bedside lamp and walked from the room.
Staring at the gardenias on her bed, she blew out a deep and very frustrated breath. But instead of pulling the quilt down to climb into bed, she sat down at her new workstation and booted it up. After logging in, noting with a quick look what software was installed and the programs that were already running on startup, she opened up the security program, and began to review what had been installed by the crew that day. So far the system showed cameras at each end of the hallway, two in the den watching the desk and entertainment areas, and several in Chuck's bedroom, pointed at the windows, the bedroom and bathroom doorways, and one that was overlooking his bed and the sitting area beyond it. She took careful note of the angles of each of them. Several other cameras showed as active in other parts of the house watching various rooms, doors, windows and the entry main doors, however it appeared that some of the cameras weren't active yet and only a couple of audio bugs in the living area were activated so far. That surprised her a bit.
Sarah reached under her bed and pulled a small device from her duffel bag about the size of a pocket calculator with a small LCD screen on it. Screw this! No better time than the present, and I need to know before I see Casey. She turned it on and started to scan the room. It was clear. That's a good start. Thank you, Casey. Maybe there's hope for you yet. Tucking the scanner into the back of the waistband of her lounge pants she walked into the den and stood in the center of it out of the two camera's views. Taking a deep breath she pulled out the detector and swept it over the room, nodding when only the cameras she'd already seen on the computer showed. Bolstered by what she saw, she stowed the device again and walked casually into Chuck's room. Standing in a carefully selected spot she pulled the scanner out and quickly swept the room, verifying the camera locations, the infrared LED lights on them being a dead giveaway. Fortunately there were no other cameras or any active microphones... yet, and she breathed a quiet sigh of relief. She could feel his eyes on her as she was scanning the room, and after stowing the detector back in her waistband, Sarah shuffled over to the bed and sat on the edge of it. "Hey," she said quietly, turning away from the camera and showing him the frown on her face.
"Hey."
"Bad news. There are cameras in here, but lucky for us, no microphones yet." Chuck groaned and pulled the covers over his head. Smart move, Chuck.
"This isn't right, Sarah," he said, his voice muffled and openly distressed.
"I know, Chuck, but it was done for your protection. There may be a way around it, to at least get the camera off your bed, but for now it will have to wait." Sarah twisted around on the bed scooting closer to him and laid her hand on his hip. When Chuck started to lower the covers, she said, "Don't, keep them up," and he froze.
"Oh, Jesus, I can't believe you're watching me sleep."
"I'm sorry," Sarah sighed. "I really am. I wish I could crawl in there with you."
"But you can't," he finished for her.
"No. At least not yet." She glanced down at her hand laying on him, and her frown grew. "I told Casey I would sleep in here if that's what it took to get the cameras out, or at least turned off some of the time."
"Isn't that risky?"
"Yes... and no. Controlling an asset in this manner isn't unheard of, but it's not the norm. He's no doubt going to have questions about me being in here right now. So I'll probably have to tell him I'm working you to keep you compliant. I think Casey suspects there's more to it. He's not stupid. If he thinks I'm compromised... it's a delicate situation."
"Are you 'compromised'?" Chuck asked, emphasizing the word. Sarah couldn't contain the small smile, when she saw him making rabbit ears under the covers.
"No. Well, technically yes, but not in the way he's thinking. I can still do my job, maybe even do it better, it's... personal," she whispered, thinking about what Bryce had said to her that seemed so out of character for him.
"Sarah I will not accept having you perceived by your coworkers as being willing to go that far to control me. It's too much."
"I had a feeling you'd say that. Thank you, Chuck. Just so you know, I've done some things I'm not very proud of to do this job, but never anything like that."
"And you're not going to start now, even if it's a ruse."
Sarah felt her insides melt at his words, and broke into a sad smile. "God, I want to kiss you so much right now."
"Ditto. A lot. So what are we going to do?"
"I'm not sure." She looked over at the covers, and pulled them down so they could see each other's eyes. She made a show of the gesture, like she was making him look at her. "When I told Casey I would be willing to sleep here, I said to him it was to keep you from rebelling about the surveillance. I told him you wouldn't accept it when you found out about it."
"Well, you were damn right about that," he said softly with a frown on his face.
Wow, he's playing it. Good for you, Chuck. Sarah stealthily slipped her other hand under the covers and took his hand. "If I was staying in here as your bodyguard, would that be a premise that was acceptable to you?"
"You can guard my body any time, Agent Walker," Chuck said deadpan, barely keeping a straight face.
Sarah hid her grin from the camera, then squelched it, looking at him more seriously. "Then that's how we should approach it. Sometime in the next few days you need to pitch a fit, really get pissed. Can you do that?"
A smile tugging at his lips, Chuck said, "Oh, I'm more than capable of that. I'm already there. Forgotten about my tirade in the truck already?"
"No." Sarah smiled back at his toothy grin visible even the darkness, "I'm sure Casey's going to wonder what that smile was about."
"Let him."
"Get some sleep, Chuck." Sarah laced her fingers through his under the covers, giving them a firm squeeze. "Consider that a goodnight kiss."
"Same to you," he said, returning her grip. "Goodnight, Sarah."
"Night."
Sarah looked at her watch as she strode more confidently from Chuck's room this time. She was meeting with Major Casey in a little more than an hour for their morning briefing. She still had a lot to think about, but the seeds of a plan were now sown in her mind. She'd only have to wait for the right opportunity to say the proper words to Casey; then she would unleash the mercurial 'flyboy' on him.
Deciding to avoid her bed until they were done with the briefing, she grabbed a blanket from the hall linen closet and went into the living room to take a short nap in one of the chairs next to the fireplace. Settling in to the startlingly cozy chair she set the alarm on her watch, not really expecting any sleep to come to her, as her mind was still racing, trying to make sense all the information that had been thrown at her today. Something that Lilly had said was really bothering her, and she didn't know why. Then Mongo settled into her lap, demanding her attention, and lulled her to sleep with his purr.