ChuckParis3
E/N: I'm posting this for him. He's gone for the week. NO, I don't know when he'll put up another chapter.
NikB
Chapter 4 – No Good Deed Goes
Hannah's Apartment
Paris 2pm Thursday
He watched her paint with deft movements of the tip of the brush, a flick here with a palette knife, a feathering brush stroke to enhance a shadow or blend a color. It was like watching a well-choreographed ballet. He could watch her all day and not get tired of it. There was something about the way she moved as she painted, as if she was stalking the canvas, looking for imperfections.
It was incredibly sexy and he caught himself looking more at her ass than the portrait, probably because she was concentrating on the breasts in the painting. Life had too many choices all of a sudden but all of them were beautiful.
"Chuck, you're really weirding me out. Please don't stare at me. You make me feel…"
"Beautiful. I want to make you feel as you are, Hannah. Beautiful. I have to go to the American Express office, will you give me directions?"
"Better than that, Chuck. I'll take you there. I'm done here for today. If I stay much longer I'll render a killing stroke and have to throw the canvas out."
"Killing stroke?"
"An artsy-fartsy term for when an artist overdoes it. Too much paint, too much shadow, just too much and it kills the painting."
"I'll just stare at it while you're getting ready. I could look at it all day if you weren't around."
She walked over and covered the canvas with a drop cloth. "But I am around."
"Yeah, so I'll stare at the original instead."
She popped him in the arm. "Flatterer."
American Express Office
Paris
"You have a check for Charles Bartowski?"
The clerk went to verify Chuck's claim information with the submitted form and returned with his check.
"Would you like this in dollars or Euros, Mr. Bartowski?"
"$2,000 in Euros and the balance in Euro travelers' checks, please." He didn't want to carry that much cash and travelers' checks were accepted almost everywhere.
He countersigned the checks and put them away and put the cash in his wallet, secured inside his coat pocket. He retained some things from spy school.
"What would you like to do now, Chuck?" She didn't want to hog his time but she did want to spend as much of it together as he'd allow. She felt drawn to him and that was not at all like her.
"It's spring, I'm in Paris with a mysterious and beautiful woman. Where else would I go but…souvenir shopping for my sister and friends? Know of any unique but cheeeeeeeep shops?" She laughed at his emphasis.
"You go on the cheap with your sister, Chuck?"
"I paid for her wedding, the reception and I paid for half the honeymoon. She knows not to expect a lot."
She looped her arm through his. "Wow, are you independently wealthy? Why are you working, my rich man?"
"It was a one-time government job that paid a lot. It came at just the right time. She and her husband are finishing up their residencies in California and then who knows? They've got student loans out the wazoo and so I sprung for the wedding. She's my sister and she's done a lot for me."
"That's sweet of you. Now, souvenirs? Let's see. Follow me, rich man."
Two hours and $500 later, he was done. They were walking past a 'dram shop' when he spotted something unique and immediately thought of Jeff at the Buy More.
"One more thing."
He emerged with a silvered titanium drinking flask that the clerk had asked a ridiculous amount for and Hannah had haggled him ragged. She told him he was a fool to pay the price on the tag. Everyone haggled in France. It was the national pastime.
He put the flask in his inside coat pocket because he had one hand full of shopping bags and the other was wrapped around Hannah.
Surveillance Van
"Well, Walker, looks like our boy is really enjoying his Parisian outing. He's spending money on souvenirs for the gang back in Burbank. Wonder what he got us?"
"I didn't see him buy a 'French to Grunt' dictionary, Colonel."
"I didn't see him buy a French broom for his favorite witch either, Walker."
"Let it go, Casey. He had his chance and opted to take the 2.0; now it's history. He failed spy training in spite of all the 'easys' Beckman threw his way. I should have known he'd blow it. He's too unstable and immature."
"Yeah, obviously. And that's why you're standing between him and Shaw on issues affecting the intersect? Well, watch your ass around Shaw, Agent Walker. It's obvious he's set his sights on you."
"He's…nice. Professional and predictable. I need that in my life, Casey."
"You forgot 'boring'. And self-centered, narcissistic, sociopathic. Yeah, exactly what you need in your life. Didn't you learn anything from the Larkin mess? Chuck's not going to wait around, Sarah. He's not blind, or deaf and he knows how you are. Remember Cole Barker? Chuck does. I'm not going to ever bring it up again. I've said my piece. If you ended it with the moron, fine. Just don't weep and wail and rend your garments when he hooks up with Carina or Lou or one or more of the others who've been interested in him. Hell, even Alex from the 49B thought he might be interesting."
"John, I'm glad you're not ever going to bring it up again. I'd hate to have your death on my conscience."
He grunted and smiled. 'Score one for Casey. She's thinking. That's a start at least.'
After dropping off the bags at her apartment, they walked around the square until nearly nine and Hannah suggested dinner even though it was early. "Early? It's nearly nine, Hannah."
"You're in Europe now, Chuck. People eat late here and sometimes eat again around midnight. We can grab a bite and then go find a club or someplace we can dance."
"What's wrong, Chuck? Why the long face?"
"I'm not a great dancer and the faster the music the worse I get."
"That's good because we're going to the Moose. It's a 60s theme with lots of slow hugging music. My favorite kind."
"The slower the better."
They ate dinner at a little bistro not far from the apartment. It had just started to rain when they walked out and Chuck went in search of an umbrella vendor. They'd been all over the place earlier in the afternoon.
'Figures they'd be gone when it rained'.
He was walking back towards the bistro when a car pulled up and two men shoved him into the backseat and drove off. His first thought was 'Fulcrum' followed quickly by 'Oh, shit. The Ring!'
The sleeper cell operative saw the snatch and notified Shaw as per protocol. He called Casey who answered with "We saw it, we're on it. We're 50 yards behind them and they're…shit, damn it, Walker, drive this hearse. They've got Chuck and we missed the damned turn!"
"It's these damned French and their damned weaving in and out of traffic. We almost got tagged by that damned taxi. There! There they are! Watch for turns, Casey, while I push this piece of shit up beside them!" She hated the van and its wimpy 2-cycle engine.
The goon in the front passenger seat turned around and said, "Do not worry, Mr. Bartowski. We are not going to harm you. Someone wishes to talk with you and ask a favor. You will be returned in moments but I would advise you to do as he asks."
"Does this 'someone' have a name?" He was stalling for time, trying to figure out how to escape from a moving vehicle. The only info provided by a flash was ineffective in his current situation. He didn't have a bullet proof vest to wrap around his head to prevent fatal injuries.
"That is for him to tell you. Now, here we are, safe and sound. The Café Lafayette. See the older gentleman sitting under the awning? That is him. Please, go join him. We will be waiting here to return you to your lovely companion."
Café Lafayette
Paris
"Good evening, Mr. Bartowski. Can I order something for you?" Jacques Dubois liked what he saw in Hannah's young man. He had an aura of danger about him. It was obvious he was angry.
"My friend is alone and probably thinks I dumped her. She's got issues, bad issues, with abandonment so let's cut the crap and get on with it. What do you want? I don't mean to seem surly or rude, but I'm worried about Hannah."
"Ah, good. I like that. So this Hannah, you've known her a long time?"
"No. Actually I met her on the plane coming over from the States. We just hit it off. We share a lot of the same interests and we do the same thing basically, except her job is a lot more exciting. But that's not the point. What do you want?"
"And you invited yourself into her bed, no?"
"NO! Absolutely not. She wanted to show me around Paris and I wanted a hotel, a cheap one, and she offered her sofa bed. IN THE NEXT BEDROOM YOU PERVERT!" He'd seen the smirk before on Casey.
"Control yourself, Mr. Bartowski. Please, I have a favor to ask and it might seem odd but I want you to give this package to Hannah. She's…she needs money since she lost her job. You know about that?"
"Yeah. The filthy pig she works for tried to make her have sex with him to keep her job. She was right to refuse. I'm paying for everything while I'm here. I'll be here only a week. I'll talk to my boss when I get back to L.A. and maybe they can use someone as bright and talented as she is. God, she loves this city so much…"
"Mr. Bartowski, what are your intentions towards my daughter?"
"Well, we just…daughter? You're the ass that wouldn't marry her mother! Hannah's had to live with that shame her whole life. What kind of man…" He stood and towered over the older man.
The surveillance van turned the corner and parked. Their 'lost' agent was sitting at a table with an older man and flanked by two obvious bodyguards.
"Hit the external cameras and the parabolic and let's listen in, Walker. Oh, shit!" They see Chuck suddenly leap to his feet and one of the guards reaches for a weapon but stops on a gesture from the older man.
"Sit down, Mr. Bartowski before my man seats you. Yes, what kind of man, indeed. I loved her and she loved me but I was in a position that carried great personal risk and I would not extend that risk to my beloved and our baby." He looked at Chuck strangely.
"Parabolics and camera up and recording, Casey. You have a sight picture on the old guy or his tough guy?"
"You were an agent, an operative, weren't you? Spies shouldn't fall in love. Spies don't have feelings. Spies can't forgive. Spies can't have feelings for an asset. Assets are disposable and replaceable. Spies are…but why am I telling you that. You know all that. So, what do you want from me?"
"I want to give you this, Agent Bartowski, and my guarantee of safe conduct so long as you behave and do no harm here. Perhaps we can have dinner and discuss other options…"
"Casey! They're trying to turn him. That guy's Fulcrum or the Ring." They'd missed the first portion of the conversation and had the man's comments out of context.
She heard what Chuck had said and it hurt. She could hear herself saying the very same thing to him and to herself countless times.
Shaw enters the van, shaking water from his coat and takes in the scene. "Casey, take the shot! That's the Ring Director General! If he's here then Bartowski's turned. Take the shot. Sanction authorized. Kill him, Colonel!"
Chuck takes the package that he knows is money. The wrapping bears one word. – 'Hannah'.
"Casey, NO! It's Chuck!" Sarah tries to get up and back to where Casey is sighted in on the café but Shaw holds her back.
"Colonel Casey, take – the – shot! First Bartowski and then take out the Ring Director, that's an ord…"
The shot sounds strangely muted since the muzzle of the weapon is outside the van. Sarah can't watch. She can't watch Chuck be murdered in cold blood. Instead she screams his name repeatedly as Shaw restrains her.
The shot catches Chuck in the left side and slams him out of his chair and against the building. The two bodyguards literally pick up the Director and hustle him around the corner to a waiting car and drive off. It is all over in less than 5 seconds.
Shaw has his hands full restraining a screaming Sarah Walker who is trying to get to her knives. He knows she'll gut him and the slash his throat in anger, vengeance, whatever label she chooses to apply to salve her conscience.
Casey fires the trank pistol and then glares at Shaw and leaves the van to check on Chuck. He's dead. Casey knows where he aimed and he knows he didn't miss at such a short range. He saw the tug on his coat as the bullet entered it and the ensuing grimace of shock and pain on his friend's face. It was like a slow motion replay. He'll never forget it.
He approaches the body of the intersect host. It's lying against the wall in a small pool of blood. He reaches for the pulse point on the throat but he hears the two-toned sirens of the police turning the corner and scurries away. He snatches the packet from the café table and returns to the van. Shaw has taken the wheel and is already moving when Casey slams the door. Shaw's bleeding and Walker is face down on the van floor, another trank dart in her neck.
The police and fire units pass the Café Lafayette continuing on to a fire and Dubois' two bodyguards return and pick up Chuck's body and take it to the limo. The Director has ordered that the young man be treated with respect and that his daughter be informed that he was shot and killed in the crossfire between drug dealers.
Hannah Nguyen walks to her apartment ignorant of the rain falling and soaking her. Chuck left her. Again. All the men in her life leave her. Her papa, her first and only lover and now Chuck.
What is so wrong with her that no one can stand to be around her for long?