A/N: Physical violence and torture used in this chapter. I don't think it's as graphic as I could write it and I didn't think that expounding on the graphical details at this point is beneficial to the story, but it definitely does state/hint what occurred. I don't think anything truly horrific or grotesque occurred, but then again that's just me.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Chuck
Chapter 10: I'll Huff and I'll Puff
Sarah and Casey stood on the observation side of a two-way mirror, looking through at the person occupying the stark silver interrogation room. There was a monitor showing their two directors in their control room. The directors were watching their monitors as they saw the video feed for two interrogation rooms and the control room. Sarah and Casey had been called in at 7am that morning to a CIA holding facility, General O'Hare Jr. had been taken while on the way to work, his wife and children as she was driving them to school, and the General's parents while lounging at their home.
Sarah looked at her watch, it was just past 8:20am. They had separated General O'Hare Jr. from the rest of his family and let them stew for a bit, neither group knowing the other was captive. She took a glance behind her at the other two-way mirror in the observation room. The General's wife, 17 year old son, 13 year old daughter, and his two aged parents were sitting scared beyond belief in the room. Her stern eyes returned to the General himself, looking supremely calm. No one had talked to him when he was brought in. Knowing the man was a former agent and high level NSA management, their plan was to physically exhaust him to ratchet up the physical pain first. They would then initiate conversation, attempting to ask him the questions, knowing he would still refuse. The psychological torture would be the next stage.
Taking one last look at her watch Sarah turned to the table at her left and grabbed two items and pocketed them.
"I'm going in." Sarah tossed over her shoulder as she left the observation room.
As Sarah walked into the General's interrogation room, she noticed his eyes rack over her body. He didn't say a word, his face angry but calm. She walked around his chair and checked on the handcuffs that trapped him to the chair. Both his arms and his legs were secured. She pushed the table away from the captive's chair and leaned against it, looking at the General with an impassive face.
While Sarah stared at him she pulled out a roll of hand tape and began to tape up her right hand and then her left. The General's demeanor never changed. She flexed her hands to test for flexibility after she had finished taping her hand up. She stood up and slowly walked in front of the man in the chair. Without saying a word Sarah's taped up right fist came crashing down onto the side of the man's jaw.
The General's head snapped harshly to the side, his breath leaving his body as a trickle of blood traced down his chin. The muscles in his neck strained from the force of her blow. Sarah pivoted her body and quickly pulled her torso and right arm back before unleashing it again to the now exposed area of the General's head, where the ear met the jaw and neck. He gave a loud grunt as spittle and blood flew out of his mouth.
Quickly, Sarah pulled her left arm back, bent low, and rammed it into the left side of her captive's abdomen. As the General's body bent forward, as far as the constraints allowed, Sarah's right elbow came smashing down to the upper side of the General's head. A howl of pain finally erupted from the captive's mouth. Her face was still as impassive as if there wasn't anything in the room that interested her. She slowly walked around the General and noticed the strain that the handcuffs were putting on the skin of his wrists.
As Sarah came to stand in front of O'Hare again she launched a vicious right kick that sent the General's head flying back. Blood sprayed out as a scream tore from his throat. If the chair hadn't been bolted to the floor he would have easily tipped back and fallen. Sarah stepped back, letting him catch his breath a little. She had 30 minutes with him in this initial phase before Casey would come in and have his turn. She looked at the clock, she would give him 5 minutes to rest.
Sarah hopped onto the table and sat on it's edge. She sat and stared at him. When the General finally looked her in the eye, she reached into her pocket and produced the other item she had brought.
"What the hell do you want? Who are you people?" O'Hare croaked out.
Sarah looped the fingers of her right hand through the brass knuckles and fiddled with it as she waited for the 5 minutes. She continued to stare at O'Hare, not bothering to say anything. After the 5 minutes she walked over to him and pulled her right arm back.
Sarah walked into the observation room 30 minutes later, after coming from the bathroom to wash up. She placed the brass knuckles and hand tape on the table where she had picked them up from. Her hands didn't show any of the blood that had soaked deeply into the tape she had worn. She stood next to Casey, "Your turn."
Casey looked at the clock, "I'll give him 5 minutes."
Sarah snuck a look at General Beckman. She noted Beckman's pale face, extremely rigid posture, and her hands tightly clasped together. If she wasn't part of the feed she would have sported a large grin. She and Casey had discussed how to go about working the information out of O'Hare. They both agreed that he would clam up if they had gone in and done the regular questioning routine. They were going to resort to drastic measures.
Casey took off his coat and moved to a cart. He pushed it out of the observation room and the moment he entered into O'Hare's interrogation room, the captive General's face expressed shock. That is, as much as it could express shock after the work over that Sarah had done.
"Agent Casey?" O'Hare questioned, his visible right eye hardened, "What is the meaning of this?"
Casey didn't say anything as he moved the cart right in front of the General, he noted the man's whimper. Casey took a good look at the captive man, taking in his appearance.
O'Hare's left eye had swollen shut, several massive cuts were still bleeding out from around the left side of the man's face. Casey realized that Sarah had left the right side of O'Hare's face mostly untouched, Casey almost smirked. He reached into his pockets and put on the black leather gloves that he produced from it. O'Hare's nose was definitely broken, blood poured from it, making a darkly sick crimson river that surged past his mouth and down his chin. His hands were bleeding from straining against the hand cuffs and forcing the metal to dig in. He was definitely sure that at least two fingers were broken when Sarah had kicked hard against the bound hands. He was pretty sure O'Hare had a few broken ribs and a broken arm. The cracks he heard while Sarah had worked him over couldn't have been anything else.
"As your superior Agent Casey, you will let me go!" The captive General growled out, his right eye trying to track Casey as the agent walked behind O'Hare's chair.
Casey's response was a savage right hook that landed on O'Hare's right temple. Casey immediately followed it with a brutal elbow to the back of the head.
"Casey! Let me go, that's an order!" O'Hare screamed after recovering from the two hits. His voice carried a hint of fear in it.
Casey's face sneered in distaste. The General was already weakening, how embarrassing. As Casey walked in front of the captive man, he kicked out into the man's abdomen, trying to get the same place he had seen Sarah work earlier. O'Hare didn't even scream, all the air had left his body, his face turning blue as he spit out blood and saliva. It didn't take more than a half a second before he slumped over unconscious.
"Disgusting." Casey growled lowly. He decided to give the man 5 minutes and began to setup for the rest of his session.
General O'Hare Jr. sputtered awake as a bucket of water was dumped over his head. He looked around, slightly frightened as he realized what was about to happen. Casey was standing to the side, leaning against the table. O'Hare looked down at his bare feet, now placed in a tub of water.
"I'll have your badge for this Casey! You and whoever that woman was, you'll both pay!" O'Hare spat out.
Casey picked up two long pointed rods that had wires attached to them. The other end of that wire was attached to a machine that had multiple dials on it. Casey looked O'Hare in the eyes and smirked just before he stabbed a rod deeply into each of the captive's leg.
General O'Hare screamed in pain, his eyes watering. Casey let O'Hare catch his breath before he turned the machine on and dialed in the level of electricity that now flowed up the wire, through the rods, and into O'Hare's body. Agonizing cries filled the room.
Close to 30 minutes later Casey pushed the cart back into the observation room, the two metal rods thickly coated in blood. Sarah glanced at him quickly before looking back into O'Hare's room. The man was a mess now, physically broken, puncture wounds throughout his body as Casey had alternated relocating the two rods as the session went on, and tears, snot, and blood covered him completely.
"How long do you want to wait till we start the next phase?" Casey asked.
Sarah gave a sideways glance at the two directors on the screen. General Beckman was visibly shaking. Director Graham looked bored. "30 minutes, let the pain start seeping in." Sarah replied, she looked over at Casey, "You want to question him or work the family?"
Casey looked at Sarah closely for a scant few seconds before responding, "You go ahead and use your charms on him, I'll take care of the family."
Sarah nodded, a whisper of relief crossed her features.
400 miles north of their location, Chuck's eyes attempted to flutter open. On the third try he was able to get a blurry view of a white ceiling with fluorescent lights. Lazily dragging his eyes to the left he saw the IV stand and realized he was in a hospital.
"How you doing Carmichael?" A concerned male voice came from his right side.
Slightly surprised that it wasn't any voice he immediately recognized Chuck slightly turned his head to the right. It took him a few seconds before he recognized the man sitting in the lone chair of the room.
"Agent Woods?" Chuck whispered out, his voice hoarse and dry.
Woods nodded in return as he slowly got up. "Let me let the doctor know that you're awake, we'll see about getting you some ice chips yeah?"
"Sarah? Casey?" Chuck asked, his voice drying up the more he used it and his eye lids slowly drooping as the pain medication and his weak body tried to drag him back down into sleep. In his current state he didn't notice the slight hesitation from Woods.
"They were here earlier but had to head to debrief General Beckman and Director Graham. Why don't you go ahead back to sleep, I'm sure they'll be here shortly." Woods supplied as he walked out the door. Exiting the hospital room, he walked right into a large warehouse like room. It was definitely not a hospital.
Woods walked into a make shift office and looked at the hospital staff that were sitting or lounging on the furniture. "He's awake Doc."
Dr. Harris nodded as he stood up and walked out the room. The nurse, Linda Smith, accompanied him. Woods left the room and continued up a ramp into what looked like a large conference room. Colonel Westing was sitting in the room at a computer.
"Sir, Carmichael's awake. The doc's going in to check him over now." Woods said.
Westing nodded, his focus still on the computer, "I'll be down to talk to the good doctor shortly. Carmichael thinks he's in a hospital?"
Woods nodded in response, "He's still pretty out of it but since he wasn't panicking I assume he thinks he's in a hospital."
"We'll start with you questioning him. Play up the friendly bit and the hospital charade to see if he bites. If not, we'll go at him with our normal means. We'll start tomorrow morning."
"What of Excalibur?" Woods asked, showing a good bit of curiosity.
Westing looked at Woods thoughtfully, staring right into his eyes. "Excalibur will be here tomorrow afternoon. I expect all the equipment to be in place and ready by then."
"It'll be done by the morning sir." Woods answered.
Sarah slammed the door to General O'Hare's interrogation room, immediately jolting the captive man awake. As she moved the table in front of O'Hare's chair, Sarah noted the foul stench in the room. It was musky from sweat and thick with the smell of copper from his blood. She sat down in front of him and watched as his eyes locked onto hers.
"This could go one of two ways General O'Hare. The first is you tell us what we need to know and the second is you don't, which would force us to find other means to extract the information from you." Sarah began, the General stayed quiet, his swollen face sealed of all emotions other than anger.
"Where did you take Charles Carmichael and the parts for the MLR2G?" The General's face scowled quickly and slightly before closing itself off again. Sarah had caught the flicker of change.
"I don't know what you're talking about." The warbling voice responded, a line of drool spilled out from the swollen and cut lips.
"We know you work with Fulcrum." Sarah began again, pausing to see his reaction. When she saw his shoulders tense ever so slightly she continued. "We also know that you're working directly with a Colonel Richard Westing and NSA Agent Woods, who have orchestrated the interception of the last two devices for the assembly of the MLR2G. So I ask again, where is Charles Carmichael and the parts?"
"You've got the wrong guy, I only over see the Western Division of European Strategic Command." The General slurred.
"Fine." Sarah said calmly as she stood up and walked out the room. A few seconds later she walked in, carting a mental stand that held a TV screen on it. She placed the TV to the side of the table and plugged it into the electrical socket as well as hooking it to a coaxial jack.
When Sarah sat back down and turned the TV on, the video feed from the other interrogation room came into view. Sitting in a line, each one tied to the chair was the General's wife, his daughter, his son, the General's father, and his mother.
"What the fuck is going on here?" The General raged, his lower lip flapping with effort as he strained against the handcuffs.
"I warned you to tell me the information or we'd find other means to extract it from you." Sarah calmly and coldly replied.
"I don't know anything that you're talking about! They have nothing to do with my work!" The strain to his voice was apparent as his face and throat turned red from his efforts to free himself. "Do you know who they are..."
"I know they're your family, other than that I don't care." Sarah replied as she took out a walkie talkie. Depressing the device she said, "Start on the father."
O'Hare's only visible eye widened as he saw a large man walk into the room, pushing a cart of equipment with him. His agitation increased as he realized he could hear the panicked fear that came from all his family members. The man didn't say a word as he put on a pair of black leather gloves. Sarah knew it was Casey in there, he was just currently wearing a black ski mask over his face to protect his identity.
"Who the fuck are you?" O'Hare screamed, his eye staring deeply into hers.
Sarah gave a cold smirk, "National security is a bitch isn't it?"
The General's head snapped back to the TV when he heard even louder screams and a heavy thud as the masked man slammed a fist into his father's face and body repeatedly.
"Your father's pretty old, I don't think he can last long." Sarah said in a bored tone. "Pity, I don't think your family signed up to serve the greater good and benefited from the excellent physical conditioning and training that we Federal agents received."
Casey stepped back from the father, the old man's face a bloody mess as his head hung low, his body in a coughing fit.
Sarah watched as desperate resolve curtained the O'Hare's face as he took a staggered breath. "I don't know anything." He said calmly.
Sarah picked up the walkie talkie, "Kill his mother."
"No!" O'Hare screamed as he watched Casey pick up a pistol from the cart and emptied three bullets into his mother's chest. "Fuck you! I'll make you pay for this!" He was screaming, his voice hoarse as he cursed her over and over, spittle flying in all directions. The family on the TV screen was hysterical, the screams and crying rampaging from the TV's speakers.
"Where is Charles Carmichael and the rail gun parts?" Sarah calmly replied. "You tell us, they go free."
O'Hare was shacking with rage, his eyes glued to the screen as tears cascaded down his face. Sarah continued talking, "You're a traitor to the United States of America. You deserve all the punishment you receive, but your family doesn't deserve this. You're the only one that can stop this."
She looked up at the TV screen as Casey placed the pistol back. "They'll never know it's the government, we'll just say it was some terrorist. They'll be branded local heroes having stood up to terrorists.
"Carmichael and the parts, where are they?"
O'Hare stared at her in hatred and spat out, "Fuck you!"
Sarah reactivated the walkie-talkie, "Kill the father."
O'Hare was straining against his bonds again, screaming profanities at her as he watched Casey put three bullets into the man's chest. The father didn't die immediately, his body coughing as blood bubbled from his mouth. Sarah noted that Casey purposely placed the bullets in locations that weren't immediately lethal. They listened as the family members' voices tore out of them. They watched as O'Hare's father slowly bled out.
"I'll leave them up there so you can watch them. Just so you know, we went easy on your parents. Wouldn't want them to die before we were done with them. Don't expect the same treatment with the rest of your family. They're healthy enough to suffer for a long time." Sarah stated as she walked to the door. "You can hear them, but they can't see or hear you. I'll be back in an hour."
When she returned to the control room she turned the temperature in O'Hare's interrogation room up by three degrees. She turned her head as Casey walked in and took his ski mask off.
"How are you doing?" She asked him softly.
Casey looked at her and then at the screen that held the unreadable looks of General Beckman and Director Graham. He looked directly at Beckman, "It'd be more fun if they could fight back." Casey said offhandedly.
Chuck looked around him and realized he was inside the Intersect again, the figment of his imagination that looked like Dr. Victor Stone standing in front of him. "This is the second time I've dreamed this. I've never done this before. How come it's happening now?"
The man just smiled and shrugged, "You tell me, what do you think?"
Chuck snorted, "You sound like Diana Troy."
Looking around Chuck put his hands in his pants pockets, standing and absently drinking everything in once again. He walked a few paces to a pile of papers in front of him, stopped, then slowly walked to another. He did this a few times before he stopped and turned to the man, "It's really boring here isn't it?"
The man laughed, "This is your mind my friend."
Chuck stared at him for a half second before he started to laugh as well, noticing as he did so that everything around him was slowly disappearing. As he opened his eyes he noticed he sterile white walls of his hospital room. Looking to his right he saw three chairs, two of which were empty, and Agent Woods was sitting in the third one, reading a magazine.
"Woods." Chuck whispered out, his mouth and throat still dry.
"Carmichael! Glad you've rejoined us." Woods said as he got up, bringing the glass of water that was at the bedside table. "You just missed Agent Walker," He lied.
Chuck took a few small sips of the water through the straw. "Where'd she go?" He asked, his voice sounding stronger than it had been.
Woods shrugged as he sat back down, "Dunno. Just told me she'd be back later." He grabbed the magazine and continued to read it, covertly watching the man in the bed.
Chuck stared at the ceiling, a question suddenly popping into his head, "Did we secure the second pulse generator?"
"Yup." Woods began, still looking at the magazine, "It's secure with the other one. General Beckman and Director Graham said to tell you what a great job you've been doing." He paused as he put the magazine down and looked at Chuck. "You're one hell of an analyst bud."
Chuck flushed in embarrassment, "Ah, lucky I guess." That earned a quiet stare from Woods before he went back to his magazine. "How come you got the short end of the straw to baby sit me?" Chuck asked again, looking at the other agent.
Woods gave a bark of laughter, "Logistics. The bad ass agents have already gone back to HQ, they're just the muscle. Agent Kramer isn't from around this area and since I am, I got lucky."
Agent Woods leaned forward with his elbows on his knees as he gave Chuck a friendly smile, "It kind of works in my favor though."
Chuck looked surprised, "How so?"
"Watching you work in that van was amazing. I've never seen anyone do what you did. It's like you're some freaking encyclopedia. I was wondering if you could give me pointers as to what it is or how you're able to do that."
Chuck began to fidget, his hands rubbing the bed sheets nervously. "I.. uhh, don't do anything special." Nervous laughter came out of him. "I just do a lot of reading... "
Agent Woods leaned back and gave him a large smile, "Got it. Trade secrets."
Chuck hesitantly said, "I was uhh, actually wondering if you could give me pointers, You and Agent Kramer worked the equipment and team like masters." Woods' cocked an eyebrow in curiosity.
"I mean, I'm always supposed to stay in the car you know," Chuck continued, "But I always feel so useless. But watching you two, it's was awesome."
Woods laughed heartily, "I'll share my secrets if you share yours!"
Woods stood up, "I'm going outside real quick to make a phone call. I'll be back. Get some rest buddy."
Chuck missed the calculating look that took over Woods' face as he walked out the door. Chuck was looking at the ceiling again, his mind wandering back to the two visits he had to the Intersect room that he had dreamed. Something was very odd because unlike his other dreams, where they would start to fade almost immediately, he remembered in vivid detail everything that had happened.
"This is your mind my friend." The last thing that the imaginary Stone had said was bothering him. It almost felt like there was a message behind that. Chuck looked at the door, wondering how he was going to explain all this to Ellie this time.
As Woods walked into Colonel Westing's office he noticed the man was on the phone. He sat down after he was signaled to enter.
"Don't worry, I'll deal with it." Westing finished on the phone as he hung up. He looked at Woods and said, "We think General O'Hare Junior has been compromised."
Sarah walked back into O'Hare's interrogation room, the stench she had smelled earlier was stronger now. She could feel the humid and musky essence of the room after the temperature had risen the three degrees. She looked at O'Hare as she sat down, he was sweating up a storm and his bruises and cuts looked angry and raw. He hadn't stopped looking at the TV set since she had left the room.
"You shot them with my gun." O'Hare's said in a dead voice.
Sarah nodded, "Crazy what happens when a man goes insane, kills his family and disappears."
The burning hatred that the General gave her would have chilled her, if she even cared an ounce about the man or any of the people she ever interrogated.
O'Hare's head snapped back to the TV when renewed screams and fearful cries sounded out as Casey silently walked back into the room, pushing the cart of tools in, the ski mask back over his head.
"Charles Carmichael and the parts for the rail gun." Sarah began as she put her hands on the desk, "Where are they?"
O'Hare remained defiantly silent. Sarah brought out the the walkie-talkie from her jacket and depressed the button, "Work the son."
The TV screen showed Casey picking up a syringe and walking towards the General's son.
"What.. what is that?" O'Hare said, sounding panicked.
"It's a solution we've concocted. You should know all about it. A small dose will cause discomfort, aches all over the body. The larger the dose the higher the pain threshold." Sarah stated, nodding her head in the direction of the TV. "The amount in that syringe should be excruciating, especially for someone unused to pain."
The General's one eye widened and whispered, "B-14a."
Sarah nodded, responding nonchalantly, "Experimental still, as you know, the pain caused can sometimes be a bit too much. Makes for an uncooperative prisoner if they're so busy screaming in agony."
A few seconds after Casey injected the boy with the chemical, moans of pain could be heard as O'Hare's son tried to fold into himself, his teeth bitting into his lower lip. It was one minute later that the moans ratcheted to ear piercing screams of pain.
"That dose should last about 15 minutes. We do have the antidote you know, it'll stop the pain as quickly as 2 minutes." Sarah said as she leaned back in the chair, making herself comfortable. "Wanna tell me where Carmichael and the parts are?"
Aside from the screams of pain from the boy, the pleading and cries from his wife and daughter were wearing on O'Hare's conscious. "Stop it, I'll tell you what I know."
"Go ahead." Sarah sat up quickly, leaning in.
"Tell him to give him the antidote." O'Hare demanded.
"Nope. He'll get the antidote after you talk. We don't want to waste that dose do we? We only have another 10 syringes left."
O'Hare stared at her angrily. "If the noise is bothersome right now..." Sarah kept talking as she lowered the volume on the TV, "So, talk."
"Westing contacted me last night, told me that he had acquired Carmichael. I don't know where they are right now." O'Hare rambled, his eyes glued to the TV. "He's supposed to contact me tomorrow to let me know their status."
"How?"
"Phone, he'll be calling me on my cell."
"How do you not know where they've taken Carmichael?"
"Location is only known by Westing and the on-site operatives."
"Why did you take Carmichael?"
"Agent Woods told us what Carmichael did during the mission. Stated that it was like watching a machine at work, the amount of information that he was serving up. What intrigued us was the actual information he knew. We needed to find out where he got that information from."
Sarah's eyes narrowed, "What do they intend to do to him?"
O'Hare stared hard into her eyes, "Probably the same that you're doing to me." His ravaged lips rising up into an ugly grin.
"And the components?" Sarah asked, her hand fisted tightly.
O'Hare just shook his head, "I only handled bringing them in. Where they went and what the time table is, I don't even know."
Sarah leaned back in the chair, "What time are you being contacted tomorrow?"
"1pm."
Sarah picked up the walkie-talkie, "Give him the antidote." She got up from the table and opened the door, revealing four armed agents. "You've got a reprieve until tomorrow."
O'Hare strained against his bonds, "My family, you said you'd free them."
A shark like grin was plastered across Sarah's face, "Oh no, they get to rest in our accommodations. We're not going to release them until we've received and confirmed the where abouts of Carmichael."
As Sarah walked into the control room, Casey was taking his mask off. She repeated the information she gained to him.
Casey's face scrunched up in disgust, "I don't believe he folded so fast." He watched the armed guards escort O'Hare out of the room.
"How long did you think he would last?" General Beckman bitterly asked.
Casey smiled evilly at her, "He should have sacrificed his whole family and himself for the greater good. But I guess that's why he's a traitor."
Later that night as Sarah sat in a chair in her room, looking out the large windows, she had replayed the day's events in her head but at the moment she was focused on the conversation that she and Casey had shared on the drive home.
"You enjoyed today didn't you CIA?" Casey had almost sounded happy.
Sarah looked at him in shock for a second before looking out the window, her features calm. She didn't answer him.
Casey snorted, "That's what I thought."
Sarah frowned, "I was doing my job, like you were."
"Probably," Casey began as he pulled up to her hotel, "But you can't lie to me and say you didn't enjoy it over a day at the Wiener."
Just as Sarah was about to close the door to the car Casey said, "I can't imagine why you would need to hear a day's worth of those two idiots talking about sandwiches and playing video games, but next time, just ask me for it."
As Sarah walked to her bed she looked at her surveillance equipment. She had used it yesterday to listen to Chuck's conversation with Morgan to help her sleep. She got into bed, falling asleep with a sad frown on her face. The room was quiet, the surveillance equipment turned off.