Chapter 2: The Details

Once Sarah had helped Chuck to dry his face and he had calmed a bit, she explained that they needed to know right away what he had seen. Chuck nodded dumbly in her direction and made an effort to gather himself together as Casey turned on his recording equipment and placed a table mic close to Chuck, who was now lying on the sofa, exhausted. Pausing occasionally to take small sips from a glass of water that Sarah had brought for him, Chuck related, haltingly at first and then with increasing speed, the images that had poured into his conscious mind and the connections that his powerful insight had made among them.

"Slow down, slow down, Chuck," admonished Sarah when he began to work himself up to the edge of incomprehensibility. Chuck sighed, relaxed his spine and fell back into the sofa cushions, giving Sarah such a forlorn look that she could almost feel her heart swelling with compassion.

"Now, start that bit again," she instructed, her elbows on her knees as she sat on a high stool brought in from the kitchen and leaned forwards to catch everything that Chuck was saying.

"I said," began Chuck wearily, "that the information is on a disk hidden somewhere. It's heavily guarded."

Chuck paused to run his tongue over his lips before starting again.

"It's in that place," he finished, weakly.

"What place, Chuck?" prompted Sarah.

"That place where they did those terrible things to those poor people," replied Chuck, who closed his eyes and reached his hand out blindly in Sarah's direction, groping for hers.

Sarah took his hand but turned her head to look at Casey. She raised her eyebrows in a sign of inquiry and Casey nodded his assent.

Turning back to Chuck and still holding on to his hand, Sarah stood and then kneeled on the floor close to his side. His eyes opened again, the corners swimming with tears, and he looked at her face and waited patiently for whatever was going to happen next.

"I'll take you home now, Chuck," Sarah said, holding his hand with both of hers. "We'll tell Ellie you're sick or something. When you've had a chance to rest, we may need you to give us some more. Is that okay?"

Chuck nodded mutely and laboriously pulled himself up off of the sofa. He flinched and brought his free hand to his head as the pain hit him, and Sarah felt the jolt all the way down his other arm and into hers. Casey stepped in to pull the stool out of their path, and she turned and led him slowly out of the apartment and across the courtyard to the doorway of Chuck's place.

Pushing the door open, Sarah was relieved to find Ellie busy in the kitchen working on some recipe or other. Sarah explained to Ellie that Chuck had had a rough day and now had a headache, which wasn't exactly a lie. Ellie, feeling his forehead and suspecting an elevated temperature as well, hurried him off to bed, chasing Sarah out of Chuck's room when she tried to help. Sarah got the feeling that Ellie blamed her for Chuck's illness. She's probably right, thought Sarah, and she returned to Casey's apartment.

Sarah immediately recognized the change in Casey. He had hardened somehow and moved about the room checking equipment and supplies with a focused determination. He wasn't angry but icily calm, and he gave Sarah the impression of inner stillness even while in motion. Sarah, not knowing how to read this new person, attempted to engage him in conversation.

"So I guess we'd better put together a plan," she stated as she sat down on the sofa in the same spot Chuck had recently occupied.

This didn't even merit a grunt.

"Casey?"

"I'm listening."

"Well, for instance, did you send that audio to Headquarters to be analyzed?" Sarah asked.

"Affirmative."

"Perhaps we should contact them, then, and see if they have anything new," Sarah suggested.

"Hmmmph."

There was the grunt. Sarah stood and put herself in Casey's path. She grasped his upper arm, interrupting whatever it was he was doing. He turned his head sharply towards her, and Sarah looked into unfathomable dark eyes. It was as though he had pulled a veil over his soul.

"Casey, what's wrong?" Sarah asked.

"Nothing," he replied, breaking away from her hold.

"There is something wrong," said Sarah. "I need to know what it is. If we're going to work together on this one, I need to know what's on your mind."

There was no answer and, pausing for a moment to think, Sarah saw a possible connection that might explain the situation.

"It was the picture, wasn't it?" she asked. "It was after we saw that picture that you went all quiet. Please tell me why that picture bothers you so much, Casey."

Casey stopped in the middle of the room. He looked down at the floor for a moment and then up again and into Sarah's eyes. He had lifted the veil and she had never seen such a look from him before. His eyes were so full of pain and sorrow, it made her want to cry and brought forth all her maternal instincts in a rush that caused her stomach to jump. She felt a strong urge to protect Casey the way she had been trying to protect Chuck through their various missions over the past months.

Then it was over and Casey had slipped his guard up again, although not as strongly as before. He indicated that Sarah should sit down on the sofa while lowering himself onto the front edge of the big La-Z-Boy chair opposite her. He leaned forwards, placed his forearms on his thighs and clasped his hands in front of himself.

"Walker, I know you know a fair bit about me," he began. "I'm sure you've read whatever file they've got on me at the CIA."

When Sarah opened her mouth to protest, Casey raised his hand into the air between them. "No, no," he said. "It's not a problem. I read the NSA file on you. It's standard operating procedure so it's not a problem."

He paused and, eyes directed towards the floor, ran his tongue over his lips, taking a moment to collect his thoughts before he continued.

"Sarah, I know you think I'm a burnout – damaged goods. Sometimes I feel like I've done so much and seen so much that it could be true. But they can't put everything in a file. Sure, there were psych tests and all that but they're only analysts' statistics and probabilities. They can't actually get inside someone's brain and know everything that's in there."

He paused again, clearing his throat. His head dropped into his palm as he briefly rubbed his forehead. Sarah could see the moment when he made the decision to carry on.

"Sarah, when I was on my military tours, I saw things, awful things. I hoped I'd never have to see them again. Well, that picture..."

Sarah almost jumped up from the sofa to go to his side but repressed the urge. Casey had never been one for opening up and his innermost thoughts hadn't interested her before, but this time, she wanted to hear what he had to say. She wove her fingers together in her lap and waited patiently, intentionally not looking him in the face. Finally, after another couple of minutes' silence, he continued.

"That picture was all my nightmares rolled into one. I've been connected with the military since the ROTC in college. It's a complex culture, one that's hard to explain to an outsider."

"But you didn't know those people," said Sarah. "How is it you are so affected by what happened to them?"

"I don't know," Casey replied soberly. "But it's like seeing members of your family tortured and killed."

Casey stood and Sarah knew that was all she was going to get out of him at the moment. Maybe she could try another time. There was probably no rush, really. They'd been working together for months now and he had just told her more about himself – his personal self – than would ever be contained in any CIA file.

Just then, a light began to flash on the communications console and Casey reached over to pick up a remote, clicking on the large wall screen and turning on the audio and video pickups in the room that would connect them with Headquarters in Washington.

"Major, Agent Walker," said the uniformed woman sitting behind a desk.

"General," Casey responded.

Sarah said nothing.

"We have had Chuck's recording transcribed and both the transcription and the recording are with the analysts now. We should have something shortly. Do you think he will be giving us any more?" inquired the general. "It seemed a little incomplete."

"Yes, General," said Sarah, "I think there will be more. Chuck was severely affected both emotionally and physically by the data retrieval. He's at home resting for now. We'll see if he has something further for us later."

Casey cleared his throat, shifted his feet a bit and asked, "General, is there anything new you can tell us?"

"Just that this organization is quite a bit bigger than we feared even earlier today. Fresh intel is coming in quickly now that we know what we're looking for," the general replied.

A man in a dark suit moved into camera range behind the woman's chair and deposited a file folder onto the desk in front of her. Sarah caught a quick glimpse of the red stamp on the cover that read "Top Secret" over the CIA logo.

General Beckman, glancing up and over her shoulder, said, "Thank you, Director."

"This file, Agent Walker, Major Casey," Director Graham explained, "contains what we have so far, including Mr. Bartowski's data. As you can see, it's not very thick. We'll keep you updated as more comes in."

"What's our timeline, General?" Sarah inquired.

"I think we should proceed very carefully on this one," said the general, her brow furrowed in concentration. "It wouldn't do to make a move prematurely. As much as possible, we need to know the full extent of their operations and their strength. We've got to shut them down completely."

"I concur," added the director. "If we don't get the whole operation the first time, there's a possibility they will just go underground and re-form."

"So what we can tell you at the moment," picked up the general, "is that we have decided to put Walker in charge of the operation in your sector."

"Thank you, ma'am," said Sarah. She couldn't entirely keep an eager look of satisfaction from her face.

"Major, we have sent the contents of our file to you through an extremely high-security FTP system. Protect that information," said the general, making sure to fix Casey with her most serious look.

"Yes, ma'am," was all Casey said in reply.

"And we'll be in touch if anything urgent surfaces in the next little while," added the director just before the screen flickered to black.

Sarah and Casey began the painstaking job of collecting pertinent information right away. Sarah set up file folders and boxes to hold any concrete intel and Casey took charge of the computer files. Using spreadsheets and lists to cross-match new data as it came in and then feeding it back to Headquarters, they slowly built up a picture of the operation in their sector.

Chuck came back to the apartment regularly to look over what they had collected and they made more recordings of what the Intersect revealed. Although Chuck was no longer reacting violently to the retrievals, the frequent flashes were taking their toll on him. Ellie began to regard Sarah with a suspicious look when she escorted Chuck back to the apartment, drained and tired. Sarah was running out of explanations on his behalf but they couldn't stop now: Chuck's information was vital to the operation.

After about a week of analysis, Chuck, who had just finished another taping in Casey's living room, asked Sarah, "So when this part is done, what happens next?"

Sarah thought for a moment, not sure how much to tell him; then decided on the safe approach of not telling him much at all.

"Well, once we've gotten all this together, Headquarters will analyze it along with information they've gleaned from the other sectors and then somebody will tell us what we need to know to do our part," she explained.

"No, I mean what's your role specifically?" Chuck probed.

Sarah hesitated. Casey, who had been listening from the kitchen, came into the room and said, "Bartowski, if there's anything you need to know, we'll tell you. Otherwise, just do your job."

Chuck, instead of answering with a stinging remark the way he would have in the past, just seemed to deflate. Sarah noticed this and reacted quickly. She stood and said to Casey in an icy and controlled tone, "Agent Casey, could we have a moment alone, please."

Shrugging his shoulders and muttering under his breath, Casey turned away and went upstairs. Sarah turned back to Chuck, who was looking at her through weary eyes.

"Chuck, just ignore Mr. Manners there," she said quietly.

When Chuck smiled feebly at this, she continued.

"He's right, you know, we can't tell you everything that's happening. It's not proper field procedure and the less you know the less likely that knowledge could endanger you," she explained.

"For instance," she continued, "if somebody finds out you know something crucial about the operation, they may feel it necessary to use extreme measures to get it out of you."

"You're talking about Ellie and Devon, aren't you?" asked Chuck. "Okay, I can accept that, but isn't there something more I can do for the operation? Casey's good at smashing his way through things, you know, like 'Hulk smash!'; you're good at thinking on your feet and the undercover stuff. There must be something that requires a computer nerd with an overdeveloped Xbox joystick hand."

Sarah smiled at him and Chuck responded with his own smile. "I guarantee, Chuck, if there's any way we can use your special talents, I'll let you know. In the meantime, preserve your strength because right now we need the Intersect more than anything else."

Chuck nodded his head in acquiescence. "Okay," he said. "Take me home?"

"Sure," Sarah responded. "Just let me get my purse. I thought we could spend the evening together. Order a pizza, watch a movie. What do you think?"

"I think that would be great," said Chuck, perking up and looking a bit more like his old self.

They walked to the door together as Sarah activated her wristwatch and brought it to her lips. "Casey, I'm taking the night off," she said into it. "Going for a little R&R."

She put the watch to her ear and heard the single-word reply, "Roger."

The next morning, Sarah let herself into Casey's apartment, carefully overriding the alarm system with the codes he had given her.

"Casey?" she shouted up the stairs.

"I'll be down in a minute," came a faint male voice.

He must still be in the bathroom, she thought as she went into the kitchen. Well, one thing good she could say about working with Casey, a person never went hungry. He had made a fresh pot of coffee and laid out a platter of croissants and Danish pastries along with mugs and two smaller plates and napkins. Helping herself, Sarah calculated how many laps she would have to run per bite. She finally gave up when the number got really high and just enjoyed the fat filled treats.

Casey came down the stairs and into the living room, where Sarah had already started to pull out files with one hand while holding a cheese Danish with the other hand and chewing on a rather unladylike mouthful.

"Have fun last night?" Casey inquired casually. He sat down and fired up the computers, checking to make sure the firewalls were functioning before connecting with Headquarters in Washington.

"Yes, we did," Sarah mumbled around pastry. "Chuck looked like he could use a break and, frankly, I knew I could use one. We had a nice, quiet night at his place and –"

"Please spare me the details, Walker. I haven't had my coffee yet," Casey sniped, getting up to go into the kitchen and pour himself a cup.

"So what did you do last night, Casey?" asked Sarah. "Trim your toenails?"

"Not that it's any of your business," began Casey as he returned to the living room and sipped the hot beverage, "but I sifted through a lot more stuff that came in after you left, sewed a button back on my shirt, and watched an old episode of CSI: Poughkeepsie or whatever it is. Just so you know, they got a lot of stuff wrong."

Sarah smiled to herself. This was more like the old, familiar Casey and she felt on safe ground once again. Whatever the new information was they had received, it must have been something good to get him back into this kind of mood.

Taking the last bite of Danish and brushing crumbs from her mouth with her hand, Sarah reached out towards him and said, "Gimme."

"That's what I like about you, Walker, you're sharp. I don't have to explain every little thing," said Casey, handing her a new file that he had made up the evening before.

Sarah scanned the list that Casey had compiled of the file's contents and then flipped through the various documents and photographs. There was a series of pictures of different warehouses around the harbor showing dark, dirty walls and labyrinthine corridors with liberal amounts of trash and detritus lying about.

"Do we know which warehouse they're using?" she inquired, raising her eyebrows in Casey's direction.

"Not yet," he replied. "They seem to know how to hide."

"Casey," began Sarah, "we should take Chuck to this area. Maybe he can find something out –"

"You know how dangerous that would be, Walker," cut in Casey. "I don't think we should. The general –"

It was Sarah's turn to cut him off as she stated, "The general herself said this was my operation, Casey. I think it would be worth a try. It might move us forward a little more quickly."

Casey glared at her for a moment, his easy camaraderie apparently having vanished at being overruled. His years of taking orders, however, meant that he could suck it up when he needed to, and Sarah's reminder of the general's instructions was enough to bring his temper back on an even keel.

"I just want to say, Walker, that I don't think you should let your feelings for the Intersect get in the way of doing the job properly," he said, observing Sarah carefully for her reaction.

"Any feelings I have for Chuck have to do with the assignment and making sure the Intersect is functioning at optimal levels," she returned indignantly.

"And I think you're thinking about putting him in a dangerous situation to make him happy just because it would make you happy."

"And I think you're upset because your general gave me command of this sector. If I say Chuck goes in, then Chuck goes in. I know what I'm doing, Casey."

"We'll see," Casey grunted, getting up once again and going into the kitchen to pour himself another cup of coffee.