Disclaimer: I do not own Chuck or any name brands listed below.
General Diane Beckman slammed her phone back into its rest and rubbed the bridge of her nose in frustration. On a scale of one to ten, her disposition was currently somewhere around twenty two. The Human Intersect, the most important piece of intelligence in the free world, had been taken.
And recovered.
And was now in recovery.
Alive, but damaged. Damaged irreparably.
She pushed a button on her intercom.
"Yes General?" the voice of her adjutant sprang forth.
"Colonel, get on the horn with Andrews. I need transport to Los Angeles ASAP. We're in the air in an hour."
"Yes ma'am!" her subordinate replied crisply.
The General sighed. This was going to be a long day.
XXXX
Four hours and three time zones later, by now the dead of night, a black SUV pulled into a parking space in front of the Orange Orange. Downstairs, inside the secret spy base known as Castle, Agent Alexandra Forrest paced with an atypical nervousness.
Operation Bartowski was an assignment she never expected to receive, and after joining it, one she enjoyed even less. But now, here, with everything falling apart all around her, Forrest found herself waxing nostalgic for what were officially now better times.
The main entry door hissed and the agent froze, snapping to attention. Beckman wasted no time with pleasantries.
"Report!" she barked.
"At 1325 yesterday, the asset departed on a service call for the Buy More. According to the pre-existing protocol, he made the first required check-in at 1340 to confirm arrival at the location, then again at 1410 for the first of the mandatory thirty minute check-ins." Forrest remained at attention, eyes fixed to the wall in front of her. From her peripherals, she could only catch glimpses of her commanding officer stomping down the metal staircase and into the facility.
"When the asset failed to report in," she continued, "for his second thirty minute check-in, Major Casey tracked Mr. Bartowski's location via the GPS transponder in his watch and vehicle and confirmed he was the location of the service call. While en route, the Major contacted me and asked I rendezvous with him at Mr. Bartowski's location. At 1451, Major Casey received a text message from the asset's phone containing only one word: 'help.' Major Casey immediately informed me and asked for my ETA. I was still ten minutes out and the Major informed me he was entering the premises."
General Beckman, nostrils flaring with barely contained fury, was now standing five feet directly in front of Forrest, flanked by her adjutant and a pair of guards. Forrest briefly locked eyes with the diminutive soldier before her gaze settled on the large field of ribbons and commendations on Beckman's uniform. It was no less intimidating.
"I arrived at the asset and Major Casey's location at exactly 1500 hours. Both of their vehicles were on-site and unattended. The front door to the house the Major apprised me of had been forced open and as I made my way towards it, I heard several gunshots inside the house. Approaching cautiously, I could see a body down just inside the doorway."
An itch suddenly appeared between her shoulders that she desperately wanted to reach. The thought did occur to her that its source was from the withering look she was receiving from the General.
"At the time I didn't know but the deceased was a Fulcrum agent. Searching carefully through the house, I encountered a second body in the hallway - again, it was neither Casey nor the asset but another Fulcrum agent. When I reached a doorway that led down to a cellar, I could hear the Major's voice. Descending, I discovered Major Casey rendering aid to Mr. Bartowski." Beckman couldn't hide her grimace at this detail. "Also in the room was the body of a third Fulcrum agent, this one I recognized. It was Vincent - I'd worked with him many years ago, and Casey briefed me of the team's recent run-in with him just prior to my assignment here. He was shocked, as he had been presumed killed in action."
Beckman's face contorted into a full snarl. "It was too much to hope he was dead," she said, breaking her silence. "Instead we assumed, and now here we are. Continue."
"Ma'am," Forrest replied. "After confirming there were no other Fulcrum agents on station, I called in medical and cleaner teams. Major Casey remained from the moment I arrived and is still with him now, while I oversaw the cleaning up of the scene. I coordinated with local law enforcement and the neighbors believe it was the FBI raiding a meth lab. The details of the cleaner operation are in the full report I submitted."
She finally allowed herself a brief working of her shoulders, soothing the itch.
"Major Casey has surprisingly given me little information regarding the asset's status. He's informed me that he's worked out the cover story with the asset's family, and his remaining on station at the hospital is to help reinforce it. My last contact with him was at 0130 hours, ma'am."
"At ease, Agent," the General said, letting her annoyance fade for a moment. Forrest gratefully relaxed her stance, slackening her legs and clasping her hands behind her back.
"I want you to relieve Major Casey in two hours and keep up observation and security on Mr. Bartowski. We've got a long couple of days ahead of us, and they will be very taxing. Get some rest while you can, Forrest. Dismissed."
Forrest snapped back to attention, saluting the General. Beckman returned it and then stalked away.
XXXX
John Casey stood nervously at the head of the conference table in Castle, with General Beckman seated at the opposite end. Small in size, she never failed to project a mighty visage.
He was nervous because he had to face down his boss and tell her how he failed. Failed his mission, his duty, his charge, his country. It wasn't the first time Casey had an unsuccessful mission, but never before had his failure cost so much.
"Have a seat, John."
She rarely used his first name. It was another indicator of his failure. She was trying to soften the blow.
"How is he?" she asked after the agent had taken his seat.
"Stable, ma'am."
"And how are you?"
"Stable, ma'am."
Beckman chuckled and sighed all at once, and leaned back in her seat. She pulled off her glasses and fruitlessly massaged her temples.
"It occurred to me only just now Major," she said, "how lucky we've been with this mission."
"Ma'am?" Casey inquired.
"Using an untrained civilian in these circumstances, even if he's far from any warzone. The fact that your team was able to do so much with so little..." She sighed again. "I've had a lot of sleepless nights since the night that idiot Larkin stole the Intersect. Bartowski has taken more years from me than two Iraq wars have. I'm surprised he hasn't given me an aneurysm yet."
She took a drink from a glass on the table. At Casey's quirked eyebrow she said ruefully, "It's just water, Major. I'm afraid I left the good stuff in D.C. This trip was rather short-notice, if you'll recall."
"Understood, ma'am."
"Now where was I? Oh right. Luck. Against all odds, Major, you and your team were able to produce results beyond our admittedly low expectations. Neither Graham nor I ever had any great faith in Mr. Bartowski's abilities in the beginning. His stopping that bomb and saving those people could have been a fluke. Beginner's luck, as it were." She tilted her head and glanced off thoughtfully.
"And yet, his luck persisted. Bumps along the road, certainly, but it persisted. Even with the revelation of traitors within our very ranks, or the death of Graham and the loss of Orion. But this mission was built on a foundation made of playing cards, and a strong enough breeze has finally come and blown it all down."
Beckman sat back up straight in her chair and the sheen of authority instantly coated her. "As of now, Operation Bartowski is concluded." Casey's eyes widened in surprise. "You and Forrest will stay in place for the time being, with the same security protocols in place. Pending a medical review, we'll see where we go forward. If the damage is not too great and the Intersect is in good working order, I will see that Mr. Bartowski is placed into a secure facility. We cannot allow something like this to happen to the most valuable intelligence resource in the country again."
A pit began to form in Casey's stomach. Over the last two years, John Casey had pictured the myriad of ways this mission would end. They were always violent ends; petty in the beginning, usually visions of wringing Bartowski's neck until he could never annoy him with his inane babbling and incompetence again, or from the damn fool's refusal to stay in the car.
But his emotions had tempered with time and the team's successful track record. He'd learned to tolerate Bartowski, even respect the kid. With no training, he was not only surviving in a brutal world, but he was thriving. It made Casey feel bulletproof. The only way harm would ever come to his asset, he'd come to assure himself, was from his own hands, in service to the greater good. It was a disgusting possibility, yes, discarding someone so useful so callously, but he couldn't trust anyone else to do it right in his place.
Never though, did he think it would end like this.
"However, should the damage be too great, I will concede to release Mr. Bartowski from his service and he may return to his civilian life. Either way, you and Agent Forrest will be moving on to new assignments." Her expression softened. "I know this is sudden, John, and difficult to hear given your last twenty four hours. But I want you to be aware of the changes coming."
Casey's jaw tightened. "Understood, ma'am," he choked.
She looked at him, the stoic killer, eyes thick with emotion he couldn't hide. It was obvious her news had affected him, but for what reason? Over the mission ending the way it had, or had Bartowski compromised him the way he had Walker?
"Go get some rest, Major. I want you to relieve Forrest at 0900. You're dismissed."
Beckman stood; returning Casey's salute and waited until she heard him exit Castle. At the hiss of the door, she sagged, leaning on the conference table for support, wishing she truly had brought a drink with her from her office.
It had been a long day.
Author's Note: First thanks to Zerectica for giving this a once-over and giving it a publishable polish.
And thank you to everyone who has reviewed or dropped me a little line of encouragement. I appreciate it more than you know. Now with this chapter, we're peeling back a few more layers as to what happened to Chuck, and who and how. For you who love Sarah (which is us all, really), I've got a couple chapters centered on her in the works.
Enjoy!