Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Chuck
Chapter 9 – We're Not in Kansas Anymore
A curse of frustration could be heard throughout the hallway, just as an instrument tray was thrown out the door. Casey stormed out of the operating room and stood in the hallway, his breath coming in ragged pulls. He had his fists jammed onto his waist, looking every bit a menacing bulldog. A few deep breaths later and he had his phone out and dialed General Beckman's number. As he walked back into the operating room with the phone to his ear, he saw that Sarah had recovered herself. Her phone was in her ear too as she was kneeling on the floor, her gloved hand placed next to a few stains of blood.
"The room's been empty for a while now I think, all the blood splatters have dried up." Sarah said on the phone, looking up as Casey walked in. She mouthed the word, "Graham" as Casey nodded his head in response.
"We'll get right on it." The both said in unison, closing their phones.
"I'm going to check the security tapes and see if anything was recorded." Casey volunteered, his eyes roaming the room.
"I've got forensics coming in here shortly and I'm going to wait them out, see if they can come up with anything. Graham wants us to debrief him and the General when we're done."
Casey nodded his head again, "Meet at my place when you're done here."
He stopped halfway out the door, and looked back at Sarah, "We'll find him."
She looked at him in surprise but a determination slowly set into her face, "I know."
As the door swung shut, Sarah closed her eyes. She took a deep breath of air and held it for a few seconds before slowly exhaling. Her eyes opened, they were clear and focused. She scanned the room with a critical eye, other than the people, she was sure there was something else missing. She slowly walked around the room, trying to determine what it was.
While she refocused on the center of the room it hit her. It wasn't just that the doctors, nurses, and Chuck were missing, but all the equipment minus the operating tools and lights were missing as well. The IV stand that held all the fluids, including replacement blood bags, was missing. The piping that connected into the wall for the anesthesia gas was removed and missing as well.
The tools that were strewn about consisted of scalpels, tweezers, clamps, trays, and blood soaked bandages. Sarah spotted an empty tray on the floor, there were dots of blood inside it. Most likely they had pulled out the bullets and dropped them into this tray during the operation. Looking around she didn't see any signs of the discarded bullets.
The trash was filled with blood soaked bandages and two bags of plasma. Sarah's face noted with worry as she saw the amount of blood that was soaked into the bandages before quickly looking away.
A knock sounded on the door causing Sarah to look up. The forensics team had arrived.
Sarah knocked on Casey's apartment door four hours later. "Find anything?" She asked as she sat down on a chair at the table, her head falling into her hands. Casey walked over to his monitoring equipment and swiveled the screen to allow her a better view.
"Yeh, but let's conference in the bosses first." Casey replied as he activated his computer and linked up to General Beckman and Director Graham. Sarah straightened herself out as the two directors came on screen. They looked more constipated than they usually did.
"Report." Came the terse command from General Beckman.
Casey stood up and primed a video on the monitoring equipment. "This is the surveillance video of the operating room hallway. We can see him being brought directly to operating room 3. There aren't any cameras inside the actual operating room."
Casey jumped ahead in the video, "This is approximately 1 hour after they've brought him in. You see the entire staff come out of the operating room, along with the gurney, and a slew of other equipment."
"Pause that, right there." Sarah said as she jumped up from her seat. "We confirmed at the hospital that whoever took Chuck also took enough equipment to keep him alive."
Sarah pointed to a canister that was attached to the side of the gurney. "That canister looks to be attached to the gas mask. I'm assuming it's for the anesthesia. This particular hospital uses a central gas delivery system where they deliver the required gas to each operating room through a piping system attached to the wall.
"Looks like this group was prepped early and ready for transport."
Casey nodded as he restarted the video, switching the feed to another camera. "That would coincide with this part. This is the docking area feed, a bit odd to be taking a gun shot patient here. Notice the black van that's already waiting and the not so friendly looking guards."
"The image is fuzzy," Sarah began, "but I think there's a few of what looks like gas canisters in that van. You can kind of make it out through the open rear door."
Casey nodded after he took a closer look, his eyes going wide. "They're prepping up for a long run."
"Do we know the name of the staff involved?" Director Graham asked.
Sarah nodded as she brought out a piece of paper, "The surgeon is a Dr. Phil Harris, the two attending nurses are Bob Clark and Linda Smith, and the anesthesiologist is Dr. Kathy Johnson. I did a quick check on them and found that they've had a large infusion of money in the past two days. Approximately five million per person."
Sarah looked back at the two directors, "What happened today?"
General Beckman gave a distasteful look, "Today's package was supposed to arrive with its security detail 45 minutes after it left the pier. They were checking in every 5 minutes to confirm the detail's status. We kept getting check-ins but the package never arrived.
"I sent a scouting party out through the predetermined route. We found Agent Kramer's body at the halfway point. He had a close range gunshot wound to the head. Vehicle tracks led to a dead end. We're assuming they switched to another transport.
"We then contacted the NSA secure facility but didn't get any response. By the time any agents were able to get to the facility the first package was gone and the security detail was eliminated."
"Woods..."Casey growled out the agent's name.
General Beckman could only nod her head, "It looks that way, along with a group of others that we have yet to identify."
"What the hell is going on here? Is the majority of NSA already in Fulcrum?" Sarah demanded.
"You best watch your tongue and mind who you're talking to agent." General Beckman threatened, her body sitting rigid still.
Sarah stood up from her chair, her palms flat on the table, staring directly at General Beckman, "My allegiance isn't to you General. I serve the United States government as an agent of deadly intent. I will talk to you as I need to until your allegiance is properly secured.
"As far as I'm concerned, short of Agent Casey, all of NSA is suspect."
General Beckman stood up and practically shouted, "I will not be spoken to..."
"What have you done about General O'Hare Junior since Chuck told you that he was a major leader for Fulcrum?" Sarah shouted above Beckman's voice, swiftly cutting her off.
Beckman's eyes went wide as she sat down heavily. Sarah's eyes narrowed, as did Director Graham's, "That's what I thought."
Sarah looked over at her boss, "We need to bring him into a CIA facility for interrogation."
"No!" Beckman shouted, rising to her feet again. "I will not have General O'Hare brought in to some CIA facility..."
"What? You want to bring him into a NSA facility only to have him walk right back out?" Casey sounded out, shocking General Beckman. His eyes were narrowed, "He needs to be heavily interrogated and then properly dealt with."
"No!" Beckman's voice was rising again, "He needs to be properly approached..."
General Beckman abruptly stopped speaking, her mouth slack as she was staring down the barrel of Director Graham's pistol.
"You have 30 seconds to explain your relationship with this Fulcrum agent." Graham growled out.
General Beckman was speechless, still staring at the CIA Director's weapon. "I've started counting, so unless you want me to repaint your office in NSA grey matter, you better start talking."
Beckman slumped down into her chair, a look of utter defeat on her face. "Patrick and I served during the Gulf War. We were providing intelligence and leadership for our agents. During a trip to one of our meetings, our convoy was ambushed. A few of the agents along with Patrick and I fought our way out of the ambush. I was pretty badly wounded, although I probably would be dead if Trick hadn't taken a bullet for me.
"Even though he was wounded, he carried me over 5 miles to safety."
Graham's gun lowered, just as Sarah spoke, "So, that means I won't automatically beat the life slowly out of him. His fate of a slow death or a quick death will depend on Chuck's condition when we find him." Her voice was heavy with sarcasm, but it was deadly serious as well.
"Agent Walker, I'll have a few agents pick up this mark for questioning. I'll send you information on which location he'll be held at for questioning." Director Graham stated as he holstered his weapon. Casey noted that he didn't take the safety off and he didn't snap close the strap that held his sidearm in its holster.
"I suggest picking up all his immediate family as well." Sarah stated venomously. Beckman's head snapped up. "We'll want all the leverage we can use."
Graham nodded his head as he placed a call.
"This all brings out another problem." Casey began as all the eyes refocused on him, "Why didn't Chuck flash on Woods. He's been able to accurately flash on other Fulcrum agents before."
His question was met with a few seconds of silence before Sarah eyes seemed to light up, "Chuck's Intersect data must be older than Woods' Fulcrum recruitment. Since he hasn't been uploaded with any new data he can't flash on any new agents or new information that's occurred since the Intersect was downloaded into his brain."
"That means that Woods must have switched in these past few months." Graham said as he paced slowly back and forth. He looked at Sarah briefly before continuing, "Did forensics find anything out?"
Sarah shook her head, the lack of leads frustrating her, "None. No particle residue or anything to help us. And the license plates in the videos that Casey reviewed isn't clear enough to make anything out."
"I went back to the alley where mobile command was hidden during this morning's operation." Casey began, "The van was hidden in the shadow of the building, as we had expected it to be. Its location was deep within the alley that it wasn't just sticking out. If you didn't know to look, you wouldn't have seen the van."
Casey brought up a map of the area and to the side of it, a photograph from mobile command's point of view, facing out of the alley.
"The second sniper was located at this window. As you can see, it's a direct line of sight to the van and not a very effective view of the area of actual operation."
"That second sniper was purposely set-up to shoot into the van." Sarah breathed out.
Casey nodded, "And you can bet that Woods was the one to tell Bartowski to take a nap in the front seat, knowing that he would be exhausted."
"And with the rest of us preoccupied with the first sniper on the ground team and thinking afterwards that the second sniper was targeting us as well, it gave plenty of time for Chuck to be seen and shot." A frustrated Sarah said.
Graham nodded his head, "Walker, Casey I'll inform you the moment we have the mark and his family in custody. I want the two of you to take the lead in his interrogation."
Director Graham walked back towards the silent and defeated General Beckman, "Report to us again tomorrow at 2pm your time. Dismissed."
The screen went blank, but not before both agents could see that Director Graham intended to have some private words with General Beckman.
Casey looked over at Sarah, "We better get what rest we can. We'll need all the energy if we're going to break a General."
Sarah nodded, "That's what his family will be there for. Potential collateral damage."
Five hours later and 400 some miles north of LA, three black vans slowly drove onto the back roads of a wine vineyard. The moon light helped in illuminating the dirt path as the caravan drove right into a large winery. One by one each van drove onto a platform that lowered itself down, seemingly right into the earth.
As the first van's doors opened to reveal approximately four surgical staffers and a still unconscious Chuck, they were approached by Colonel Richard Westing.
"How's the package?" Westing asked as he walked over to the gurney.
"Stable, but he's going to be in and out for at least another two days. After that, he'll need bed rest for another two weeks to ensure a full recovery." Dr. Harris hesitantly responded.
"I need him up and able to answer some questions in one day." Westing commanded as he stared at the Doctor.
"He can't be pushed!" Dr. Harris exclaimed, "He's not critical anymore but he's still very weak."
"If you don't have him ready to speak in two days, you will be disposed." Westing stated loudly as he walked out of the room.
Dr. Harris looked at his surgical staff, all their eyes bulging out, fear written all over their faces. He looked down at his patient on the gurney, the man's eyes moving rapidly behind his closed eye lids.
Chuck was standing in what he could only call a white world that appeared to have no walls , no ceiling, no floors, and no horizons. Everywhere he looked there were piles of paper, binders, and file folders littered all over. Under each pile of paper was what he could only describe as some sort of spiraling portal.
Quickly looking down at his chest, Chuck felt all around, pulling at his shirt when he didn't feel any pain. There was no blood, no bullet holes.
"Morpheus?" Chuck asked softly, half smiling. No answer came, although he hadn't really expected any.
Chuck walked to the nearest pile of paper, hesitating as he approached the spiraling portal underneath. He bent down and carefully picked up a file folder. He noticed it was the top-secret dossier for Peyman Alahi, or Senor Wookie. Chuck slowly walked to various other piles, finding information about General Stanfield, Dr. Zarnow, and many others.
Chuck stopped after visiting a few piles, he realized where he was, "The Intersect." The words only came out as a whisper, almost as if he was afraid to say them.
"Yes, that is what I am." A voice came from behind him. Chuck spun around faster than he'd ever had, stumbling a few steps back after seeing who had spoken.
Standing in front of him, was Dr. Victor Stone, the man that had created the algorithm that was used in the machine Intersect and what he had "installed" into his own mind a few days before.
"You... you're, Dr. Stone." Chuck babbled.
The man shook his head in the negative. "I am the Intersect."
Chuck stared at the man, he was quite confused. "Huh?"
The Intersect gave a small gentle smile, his arms extending out, "Everything you see here is the Intersect, or should I say this is your concept of what the Intersect is like."
"My concept?" Chuck said, more to himself, "I always thought of it as a database, not a blank room with piles of information. And I definitely never thought there would be some scientist standing in the middle of it all."
"That would be what your conscious mind thinks of it. But this is what you really consider it as. A vast expanse of unknown with only information from the ideas that you've flashed on." The man stared at him for a few seconds before adding, "And I haven't always been here."
Chuck looked at him in confusion before a dawning realization occurred to him, "You're the algorithm! That's why you look like Dr. Stone."
The man nodded, "I am the device that your mind uses as the search and relational tool to identify information."
Chuck looked around the room again, scratching the back of his neck. "The Intersect is kind of empty. Where is all the information?"
"It's here." The man said as he began to slowly walk around. "It's all here. You just can't see it."
"You can?" Chuck asked him eagerly.
"Not quite," The man gave him another smile. "I only see what you see right now. A vast empty space with piles of information scattered around. When you flash, this room fills with piles upon piles of unreadable information. At least unreadable to you."
The man gave him a small but hearty laugh, "I go through all of the piles and when I find pertinent information I make them readable for you."
Chuck looked at him in surprise, "I thought you're a beam search algorithm, but it sounds like you do a brute force search every time? Isn't that slow and wasteful?"
"Not a brute force, I'm a heavily modified multi-beam search algorithm. This vast space you see only appears infinite. The information in the Intersect is limited and when you flash the boundaries of the room are visible."
Chuck looked thoughtful, "So a brute force search would have you just go up and down and search every single pile of information, uncovering as you go. And that's just too slow, especially with an unknown dataset."
Chuck started to pace around, "But as a modified beam search you start at a random stack but only go to piles of information that appear to be the most pertinent to what's being flashed on. You skip those that aren't important to the flash." Chuck looked at the man, "And as multi-beam you have multiple threads of search paths."
The man nodded, his smile widened slightly.
Chuck looked around, getting more confused by the second. "The Intersect is part of my memory, hidden somewhere. I'm assuming it's hidden since I can't see it or access it. But if this is the Intersect, where's all my regular memories?"
"This isn't a representation of your memory, this is the representation of the Intersect. Currently, as far as you understand yourself or don't understand yourself, the Intersect is a separate entity in your mind."
"If it's not part of my memory, how do I remember the things that I have flashed on?"
The man walked to a pile of paper and knelt down next to it. "This vortex you see underneath here is what your regular memory uses to gain access to this information."
Chuck sat down, a dreadful curiosity written all over his face, "As interesting as this is and as confused as I am about this, I just want to ask one question."
The man nodded his head.
"Am I dead?" Chuck asked. He only received a smile in reply.
Sarah sat down on her bed facing the large scenic windows on the one side of her room. Her shoulders were slumped, her face wearing a despondent look. Her room was dark, the ambient light from the moon and the clock giving out a soft, almost alien glow. Looking over she saw the clock showing 2:30am. She had been staring at the ceiling for the past 2 hours, trying to get to sleep.
Sarah stood up and walked over to the table by the door. Reaching in she grabbed a micro-disc that she had taken from Casey's apartment while he wasn't looking. Inserting it into her surveillance equipment she grabbed the remote and slipped back into bed. The moment she hit play, the sounds of Chuck and Morgan were heard in her room. Their conversation from the previous day repeating itself.
"Chuck..." Sarah whispered, falling asleep a few minutes later.
A/N: Sorry this took longer to come out than my previous updates. I got another project to crank on at work this past week and this upcoming week so all the spare time I have outside of my normal 8 hours is devoted to this second project.