A/N A little late, I've been putting together the files for my latest novel, so progress on this was delayed a little. Fortunately PJ Murphy stepped into the gap with another chapter of Jen Burton: Spy Girl.

I'm gonna let Chuck take it from here.

"I don't want to go to spy-land."

"Her file is red-flagged."

"Keep it simple."

"Exactly what he told me to."

The next night, in Castle…

"Agents, allow me to introduce CIA Special Agent Daniel Shaw," said Beckman formally.

"We've met, General," said Chuck, less formally, "If you can count someone sticking a gun in your hand and telling you to shoot him as a meeting."

Sarah touched her foot to his, under the table.

"Pretty much the only meetings I get," said Casey. "Except I bring my own gun, and they aren't asking."

"Moving on," said Beckman, "Agent Shaw has spent the last five years working to take out the Ring, but that's essentially a bonus. While he has command authority on all missions pertaining to the Ring, his primary role will be to function as Chuck's trainer for the Intersect."

Sarah, already on her best behavior, began to pay even more attention to this…guy.

"I'm fully briefed," said Shaw, coming around to the front of the table, giving her a slight smile. "I know everything."

"That makes one of us," said Chuck, trying not to sound hostile. "I don't think the guy who invented it knows everything."

"About the failure of your training," Shaw clarified, apparently unaware of the General pursing her lips on the monitor behind him, "And your recent successes in the field. I plan to build on those successes." He turned back to the monitor. "Thank you, General. I'll take it from here."

"Very good, Agent Shaw. Bartowski, Walker. Colonel. You're in good hands. Good luck." Beckman killed the monitor but continued to watch the meeting, surveilling her team for her own purposes this time. Her team was in good hands. Hers.

"My successes are due as much to my team as they are to the Intersect." Chuck waved a hand at his partners, winning a smile from Sarah (and the General) and a pleased grunt from Casey. "It gets me into trouble and they get me out."

Shaw shook his head. "You were working alone last night."

"Because you locked them in the van," said Chuck. "Anyway, I wasn't flashing last night. I play a lot of Duck Hunt and Call of Duty. More than enough."

"You put a bullet through my shoulder, Chuck," said Shaw. "You missed every major blood vessel, bones, muscle mass. The doctor said it couldn't have done less real damage if it had been laser-guided. Was that Duck Hunt, too?"

"No," said Chuck, "That was a flash, after I thought about all the crap my sister would have given me if I'd let you do it yourself. The way you were pointing that pistol, you would probably have punctured a lung, severed an artery, shattered a bone, done some nerve damage, and destroyed your entire shoulder joint. Instead here you are, with an ace bandage wrapped around you, using that arm as if nothing was wrong. Speaking about the medical knowledge that saved your life and career, last night, what about Devon?"

Shaw gathered up some thick binders and handed them out. "An overview of Ring procedures," he said. "They operate through a network of decentralized cells. We capture Sydney, we can contain the knowledge of Devon's identity."

Chuck ignored his binder, much as he loved reading operating manuals. "Then why not capture her last night? She was right there."

"Without her team, Chuck," said Sarah.

"Correct," said Shaw. "Had she brought her team along we would have implemented a different branch of my decision tree. If we'd taken her on her own, her men would have scattered, and they knew Devon's name at least. Her kill order on me was actually my plan B. We're all off her radar now."

"Devon's not."

"Exactly," said Shaw. "She thinks she's got him, now. He's our mole."

Chuck frowned. "He's my brother-in-law, not a mole."

"Chuck, none of us want this," said Sarah. "As long as Sydney's out there, he's her target."

"It'll take more than a bullet in her shoulder to make her let him go, too," added Casey.

"So the real question is, Chuck," said Shaw, "Do you have a better plan?"

"Do I have a better plan?" said Chuck. "A trained monkey would have a better plan! A CIA janitor with a bag of newspaper clippings and a pair of scissors would have a better plan."

Casey coughed. Sarah suddenly found the material of the table-top fascinating, her lips pressed tightly together. Shaw spared them a glance, but nothing more. "Okay, Agent Bartowski. I'm waiting."

Morgan walked slowly around the back room of the Buy More, setting it to rights. Technically that was a job for the greenshirts, but since they were the ones who set it to wrongs in the first place, he decided to do it himself. The first thing to go was that battery-charger-arc-welder thingie, probably can't get their money back from Large Mart for that. Not only was it a Buy More purchase, and they never got their money back on those, but either Jeff or Lester had wired it directly into the store's electrical system. A lot of crap, including a green shirt that smelled as if Jeff had wiped under his arms with it, he simply shoved into a corner with a broom.

Last but not least, a teddy bear, positioned as best he could on the shelves full of stuff they either weren't trying hard enough to sell or working hard enough to repair. When Morgan flipped the switch in the back, the first thing the nanny-cam inside recorded was the image of the floor getting rapidly closer. He picked it up and put it back, aimed at Chuck's repair station. His boy had done a lot of disappearing into and reappearing from thin air lately, and Morgan wanted to see it when it happened. He had cameras all over the store. Whatever was happening in his store–he stroked his assistant manager's vest proudly–he'd get to the bottom of it.

Someone knocked on the door, and Ellie picked up her favorite frying pan as Devon went to answer it. One of them, those guys with the black suits and the hoods, was outside. He looked at her and gave her a thumbs-up, which made her feel a bit better, and he held out a white box. Her husband fumbled in his pocket for that evil phone and put it in the box. The masked man shook Devon's hand and that was that. Devon shut the door. "We're done," he said. "I'm out."

She put down the frying pan and opened her arms, and he walked right into them. "Oh no, you're not, mister," she said with a smile. "You're just getting started. Or you will be soon, if you know what's good for you."

"You know, babe, you're a pretty scary lady too," said Devon, pulling her close. "It looks better on you."

Chuck left the gear in Castle, and took the block box to his station up in the Buy More. It had most of the gear he had downstairs but it was open to transmission, as well as tracking. Sydney had to come to him, so she needed to know where he was. But he'd barely gotten the first screw loosened before his eyes were watering. What was that smell?

A stinking green shirt, buried in a pile of trash and boxes, shoved into the space behind his table. He took the nearby broom and pulled the offending pile out of there, so he could push it across the floor. He hit the shelf and knocked off a…teddy bear? Whatever. Too many things to worry about right now. He put it back on the shelf and cleared his space.

Time to bait his trap.

Sydney Prince stalked into the signals room of her little organization, soon, with the help of Devon Woodcombe, however unenthusiastic he might be, to be much larger. "Where did you say it's coming from?"

"The Burbank Buy More," said Glen, her signals guy.

"Add it to the file," she said to her SIC, Ian. When the Woodcombe guy had gone there before, they'd hashed possible explanations, before concluding that they needed more data. This data point moved the location out of the 'coincidence' category. "Let me know the sec–"

Her phone started to ring. For a second Sydney wondered what the sound was, since no one ever called in on that device, the handle of a leash that only she held. She didn't like being handled, it made her angry. She stabbed a finger at the board and her man started a trace as she answered the call. "Who opened this channel?" she demanded harshly. "Who are you?"

"I'm the spy that shot and killed Agent Shaw last night."

The wrong voice. "You're not Devon Woodcombe."

"No, I'm not." The voice dripped sarcasm. "He was just a decoy."

A decoy? Had she been played?

"I'm the one who put a bullet through Agent Shaw's chest last night, and I am the one that's in charge of this little operation."

In charge? Someone moving in on her territory, the way she'd moved in on Artman's? And then called her to brag about it. Clearly this idiot had no idea how the Ring operated, she'd be better off putting a bullet in her own chest, rather than just let some nobody walk in and take her position. She specialized in control. Once she lost that she would be of no further value to the organization. If they ever found out.

She had to respond, he had to know that, but he'd only ever seen her. She killed the connection, and looked at Glen. He waved at the board, the signal had come from the Buy More. "Get the others," she said.

A little later, in the Buy More…

Chuck waited at the Nerd Herd desk, watching the door. When he saw Sydney and her team approach the doors, he made the call. "Sarah, they're here."

He was answered with static.

Down in Castle…

Sarah puffed out a breath, anxiously waiting for Chuck's call. If he was right, Sydney had to bring everyone she had, and they didn't know how many that would be. Once they arrived, she and Casey were waiting to flank them from the Orange Orange, but Shaw recommended they not go up there until after Chuck made the call. Just in case.

She stared at the screen, waiting for that call. Waiting. Waiting. Chuck was still looking out the window.

The screen flickered. Chuck was still looking out the window.

"Casey! The feed's been looped!" She changed the source for the big screen and saw Sydney by the desk and Chuck nowhere in sight.

Casey tried his phone. "No signal."

"They must have a jammer," said Shaw, but they were already up the direct stairs to the Buy More. The wounded agent stood by to watch the show.

Casey and Sarah came out of the break room, guns drawn. They saw the team that Sydney had sent to look for alternative entrances. Casey shot one but the other ducked behind the washing machines. "Go," he said, and Sarah threw herself into the Home Theater room and out the other side.

Sydney followed her first team through the main entrance to the back room, because that's what they expected. While they looked at shadows she looked at the lighted area in the cage and saw the phone they'd given Devon, bait for an obvious trap. She sprang it. "Check the cage," she said, and Glen moved to comply.

He grabbed the knob and stiffened, firing his gun as he twitched spasmodically. One of his shots took out Ian, and she took the opportunity to shoot Glen before he might accidentally shoot her too. This spy, whoever he was, had initiated that call, Glen and Ian had known that much. Good work, whoever you are! Two down with one trap. He'd have been a useful addition to her stable, but not now.

Now all she had to do was kill this mystery agent and she could tell whatever story she wanted to her bosses in the Ring.

The door behind her slammed open, but before she could turn Sarah was kicking the gun from her hand. Mystery Agent had a team, even better. After a few exchanges, though, Sydney began to doubt her clever plan, this woman fought like a she-devil, a whirlwind, and she was hard pressed to keep up.

Until a toy, a…teddy bear, of all things, fell off a shelf, and the blonde agent slipped on it. Sydney grabbed a flailing arm and threw her attacker across the room, into a pile of trash. Now she could see about her own miraculous escape. Not the best plan, but she'd at least break even. She made it as far as the loading dock.

"Stop!" shouted Mr. Buy More. "Do not move."

She moved, raising her arms and turning around. He had a gun, her gun, pointed at her. Strange that he hadn't shot her already. She would have. "Or what, you'll shoot me?" His features firmed up remarkably, and she realized she'd made a deadly error. His mask of innocence was the best she'd ever seen, but he was something much harder underneath.

"Don't make me," said Agent Carmichael. "Please."

He would, she knew. He'd said 'please'. No spy said 'please', unless he was prepared to back it up.

Chuck flashed.

In the back room…

Sarah smelled something utterly foul, and got up from the pile of boxes and trash she'd fallen into. "Chuck?"

Her gun, in his hands, moved away from its line with her chest, and Sydney moved. Two shots rang out, and Sydney fell, dropping a knife. Daniel Shaw walked up from where he'd been standing behind her.

"What the hell did you do that for?" shouted Chuck. "I shot her in the foot, she was no threat to anyone."

"Look again, Chuck," said Shaw. He nudged something out from behind Sydney's body into the yellow light. A Ring phone, its screen cracked and useless. "She could have pressed a button and gotten fifty agents down here."

"From where, central casting?" said Chuck. "If she could have called for more guys she'd have done it the second I got away from her."

Shaw put his gun away calmly. "I guess we'll never know."

A/N2 I hope you'll drop me a line and tell me what you think of this rewrite so far.