A/N Okay, the number on the case is 70453. I can't help but think that's a meaningful number, maybe someone's birthday.
I just love the way Shaw says "I do everything I can to protect my people" one episode after he left Chuck to twist in the wind against Sydney. It's really a bit of a struggle to make this stuff make sense.
"I'll show you some respect."
"I hate insurgents."
"I want the key."
"Bring it."
Sarah stood and Shaw sat, listening in on the fight, since no one on Chuck's end had ended the call. "He must have gotten the antidote," said Shaw. Otherwise they'd just wait him out.
Sarah wished he'd shut up. She understood the logistics, but she couldn't hear very well. A lot of grunting and shouting came through, but if anyone was saying anything the phone wasn't picking it up. Then she heard Chuck yell, "Don't!" but without context. Don't what? Destroy the plane? They weren't home-free yet.
Moments later they heard his voice clearly. "All clear, guys. Nunchuks one, bad guys zero. You're gonna have to tell me sometime what you did to make the plane lurch like that. I'd probably be dead if not for you."
Shaw started to say something but Sarah spoke right over him. "Chuck, are you all right? You said 'don't'. Don't what?"
"Serena poisoned herself," said Chuck, sounding sad. "Said she was wanted in France." He sighed into the microphone. "I've got to start doing better. Hopefully Gonzo here knows something but what if she was running the op? We got nothing."
"You have the key, though, right?" asked Shaw anxiously.
"Yeah, I have the damn key." He hung up on them.
"That's unprofessional," said Shaw, raising a brow.
"That's Chuck," said Sarah, standing straight. She adjusted her charm bracelet on her wrist. "She's the second Ring agent to die in front of him, and the first because of something he'd done."
"You're very protective of him," remarked Shaw, as she walked around the table.
"Of course," said Sarah, sitting down at last. "We were originally a protective detail, and that part of our mission hasn't changed. Our biggest problem back then was getting him to stay in the car."
He sounded doubtful. "Most spies push their assets to perform."
"Chuck never was a proper asset," said Sarah. "He insisted on performing. These skills just made that problem worse, although it looks like he's finally learning some control."
"You're welcome."
"I'm not thanking you, Agent Shaw," said Sarah blandly, "If your little ploy worked at all, and it looks like it did, congratulations, it's because Chuck was Chuck, not because you were you. You got lucky, and I will so specify in my report."
"It wasn't luck that built the pulse into Chuck's phone, was it?" said Shaw. "You may not like my training methods, Agent Walker, they may be a little too much 'tough love' for you, but I do everything I can to take care of my people."
The comment about 'tough love' burned, but Sarah wasn't called the Ice Queen for nothing. "Do you?" she said. Nunchuks, an electronic pulse, and a comm link to her seemed a little like bare bones.
"I do," said Shaw, standing up. "I lost one spy, it was my fault, and it will never happen again."
"Well, we agree on that, at least," said Sarah as he stalked away.
Serena's body went into the casket, because why not? No doubt her cover was genuine, so they would wonder where one of their flight attendants had gone, but he doubted they would look there.
He'd broken his nunchuks over Panzer's head, leaving him dazed long enough to flash on other techniques, the way Sarah had. It wasn't easy, and it gave him a bit of a headache. Eventually he wore Panzer down to the point where he could empty his tranq pen's contents directly into his mouth.
Much more effective that way.
He picked up the evidence–the pieces of his flail, Serena's gun, and the antidote bottle–and took them over to his case, putting them inside, on top of the sword and watch he'd left there the last time. Hopefully he wouldn't have to beat Panzer a third time, since there was nothing left to take off the big guy except his clothes. The room looked good to him, so now he could go back up and reestablish his cover.
The cabin was dark, everyone sleeping, including his overly-curious seatmate. There was a blanket on his chair, and he lost no time setting himself up to sleep a bit. They'd arrive at De Gaulle Airport soon enough. Hopefully they wouldn't need him to do too much else once they got there, having accomplished the whole thing in mid-air. Lying there in the semi-darkness, he held up his hand, and flashed. His hand became a weapon, but he put that weapon away and went to sleep.
Daniel Shaw was up early. The mission in Paris was over, all that remained was to contact Chuck once the plane landed and tell him to stay on it. The Paris bureau would take care of the details, working through and with the French authorities.
Motion on the monitors caught his attention.
Agent Jones walked into the Buy More, looking for the man she knew as Carmichael. She knew how tall he was, but saw no one of his stature in any part of the store. A man in a white shirt and black pants walked up to her, his nametag reading 'retseL' because it was on upside-down. "Good morning, madam, how may I …service you today?"
She gave the specified code name. "I'm looking for Chuck."
The skinny man's eyes became unfocused. "Charles Bartowski is the kindest, gentlest, most thoughtful man that I have ever known."
Agent Jones blinked at the praise. "I'm sure he is, but do you know where I can find him?"
"Patel, stop bothering the ladies," said a man with familiar gruff voice. Colonel Casey, wearing the same ugly green shirt many of the other…people in the store wore, shoved the shorter man aside. "Go talk to Grimes, he'll find something for you to do."
"Morgan Grimes is the kindest, gentlest, most thoughtful man that I have ever known," said retseL, moving off aimlessly.
"What's wrong with him?" asked Jones.
"Nothing three queens wouldn't cure," said Casey. "What have you got for me, Jones?"
Jones checked, but no one seemed to want to get too near Casey. Still, she kept her voice down. "I have a package for Agent Carmichael."
"Not here," said Casey. "He's coming back from a mission in Paris. Can you give the package to me? I'll get it to Chuck as soon as he gets back."
'Known by sight', the General had said, not 'known by name.' She wasn't about to wait until Goddamned Agent Goddamned Carmichael returned from Goddamned Paris to she could put it in his Goddamned hands. "General Beckman sent me because I would recognize the man I was supposed to give it to," said Jones. "You'll do." She reached into her bag and brought out a small box, which she placed in his hands. "Thank you."
"I'll get it to Chuck ASAP," said Casey.
Jones nodded, smiling. As long as it got her out LA sooner. "Very good."
As she left to go back to the airport, Casey turned to put the package in the most secure place he knew, his locker in the break room. From a couple of aisles over he heard Morgan say, "I don't know, go find out what Jeff is doing."
"Jeff Barnes is the kindest, gentlest, most thoughtful man that I have ever–"
"Casey!"
Many hours later, once Chuck returned…
The object on the table was familiar to all of them, a golden case retrieved some weeks back by Carina. It had been sent on long before and forgotten, in favor of more pressing concerns.
"Your key, sir," said Chuck, producing the glowing object with suitable flair.
Daniel Shaw smiled at him, taking the key. "Excellent work, Chuck. Your instructors would be proud. You've certainly impressed me."
"Thanks, Agent Shaw, but it's really Casey and Sarah who deserve the credit. They took a lot of abuse from me these last few weeks." He smiled apologetically at them. "Panzer never knew what hit him."
"Very true," said Shaw neutrally. "Well, shall we see if this key works?"
Casey pushed the case front and center, and Shaw opened it. Inside was the same circular object as before. Shaw lifted it out of the case, and Casey pushed the case away. Shaw put the disk on the table.
"They said that was some kind of weapon," said Chuck, unnerved by how casually Shaw seemed to be handling it.
"I lied," said Shaw. "Not a weapon, unless knowledge counts as a weapon. It's a lockbox. I didn't want anyone else trying to open it."
The disk had a slot on one side and Shaw inserted the key into it, causing the top of the disk to slide back. The bottom section had a rack of computer disks in it. When Shaw lifted out the rack, they saw an envelope under it.
"This box belonged to a spy we had placed in the Ring." Shaw handed the rack to Casey. "This is all the intel they had. With this we can take the war to the Ring, and ensure that one of our best didn't die in vain."
He picked up the envelope, taking it away with him. The other three looked at each other. "You two take care of that," said Sarah, pointing to the rack in Casey's hands. "I'll find out about the other thing."
She followed Shaw into the back room, where she saw him looking into the envelope. "What's in that, Agent Shaw?"
Shaw handed it to her, and she poured the contents into her hand. A wedding ring. She looked at Shaw's hand, where a matching band circled his finger.
Shaw looked down at it too. "My wife, Evelyn Shaw," he said, touching the band. "Eve." He reached up. "We both made the same mistake, Sarah, we fell in love with spies."
Sarah handed him back the envelope. "So let me get this straight," she said, her voice hard. "You sent my guy, alone, without backup, with inadequate intel, into an inescapable deathtrap, to bring you back your dead wife's wedding ring?" She gestured back at the room they'd just left, and the case they'd retrieved weeks ago. "Unless she died yesterday, what good is that intel going to do us?"
For a moment Shaw just stared at her, his face unreadable. "Your guy?"
She remained as still as if carved from a glacier. "Whatever my relationship with Chuck is, Agent Shaw, don't even pretend that you know anything about it, especially whether or not it's a mistake. So far the only mistake I'm seeing is you running an op with your wife in it. I've never heard of you, Shaw, but I'm pretty sure I would have heard about a spy stupid enough to do that."
Shaw stood up too. "Perhaps it happened while you were off grid, like you were in Lisbon a few weeks ago, even though you were supposed to remain in contact." He pulled a photo of her out of a file. "Chuck was in Prague. Why were you here?" He tapped the photo.
"You read my file?"
"I read everyone's files," said Shaw. "Chuck's not the only one who knows as much as he can about everything he can."
Sarah dismissed that with an idle wave of her hand. "Chuck never read my file, or even flashed on it. If he wanted to know something about me he would ask, he did ask, even though he knew I probably wouldn't be able to answer him."
"I'm asking."
"No, you're not, Agent Shaw, you're extorting," she corrected him. "Or trying to, at least. The answer is simple enough. I asked for, and received, permission to go to Lisbon while my partner was in training, in order to scatter my previous partner's ashes. It was the site of our first mission, but I'm sure you know that, having read my file."
Shaw sat down. "I do."
Sarah waved at the table and all the papers on it. "Then you also know that it'll take more to get me reassigned than this."
He seemed surprised. "I'm not trying to get you reassigned. I need you. Chuck needs you."
Sarah smiled. "More than that, Agent Shaw. More than that." She turned and left the room.
Daniel Shaw turned his attention to her file, and a curious half-day gap in her presence in Lisbon that he had not asked her about. "For now, Agent Walker."
A/N2 I hope you'll drop me a line and tell me what you think of this rewrite so far.