Hello, everyone! Sorry, it's been a while. I'm in serious need of a beta to help me out and remind me to work on this. Anyone interested? Yes, no, maybe so? PM me if you are. Random PMs of encouragement would be great as well.
In other news, I got accepted into the college of my choice so all is well. I just need to survive senior year. Ugh.
Also, I'm working on a ff involving Chuck and Sarah but back in Ancient Egypt. What do you think?
Well, enjoy the latest chapter!
Disclaimer: I do not own Chuck and I have been completely heartbroken since it ended.
Chuck Versus The Fortune
1 January 2006
1133 Hours
LEOS Inc.
Los Angeles, California
Relax and breathe, Chuck told himself, his eyes closed as he freed his mind of all distractions that had previously afflicted him.
Opening his eyes, he unleashed a succession of strikes onto the heavy bag in front of him; his assault unrestrained, his movements moderately fluid – the injury he had acquired on Hotel du Louvre's rooftop impeded him from being wholly at his best – and his mind clear. A vague tug on the corner of his lips exposed his ease as he released a breath contentedly and moved away from the subject of his assailment that currently swung fitfully from the abuse prior to resuming his onslaught.
The moment the plane had landed at LAX, Chuck had made it his goal to put as much distance as he could between him and Bryce Larkin; it had been rather easy to do so as Forrest had attended to the two operatives and left him with the address of their new base of operations, which he had gone straight to following a stop by Echo Park where he had spent the better half of the morning divulging the details of his fictional 'business trip' to his sister and her boyfriend before they left for work.
An hour or so into his workout, the hiss of the gym door interrupted the relatively still space and signaled a new arrival as someone called out into the room, "Chuck?"
"Agent Walker," He replied without even looking at the woman he considered undeniably attractive, maintaining his focus on his unbroken chain of attacks as he maneuvered around the heavy bag, instinctively avoiding its erratic swaying. "What are you doing here?"
"Just looking around." Sarah walked closer to the center of the gym where the operative was ably landing debilitating blows onto the punching bag without any sign of fatigue. Her concentration unintentionally became engrossed in viewing the brunet in front of her – he was leanly muscular, his sleeveless grey shirt bared his taut arm muscles as he circled around the heavy bag, his skin had a light sheen of sweat as his espresso brown curls stuck to his forehead. His hits are economical, she observed, enthralled by the man's flowing and steady offense as each strike was expeditiously followed by another.
Wait… She thought back to the agent's deflections to her torrential assault at the Hotel du Louvre and how it greatly contrasted with the present show of the man's hostility. He didn't show this level of aggression back in Paris. Was he holding back at the hotel? The notion caused her to frown inwardly.
Despite that, a pang of guilt struck her as she became aware of the faint limp the operative had as he moved, which she discerned was from the bullet wound she had inflicted upon him. "Are you okay?"
Chuck turned to Bryce's partner, pausing from wreaking any more damage onto the bag as he tilted his head at the question, "What do you mean? I'm fine."
Failing to keep in mind the spasmodic swinging of the heavy bag, he found himself knocked onto his back as a result of the battered bag enacting its retaliation. "Ow…"
Sarah crossed her arms as she looked down at the taller man's sprawled out form on the floor, "I can see that."
Softly chuckling at the blonde's straight-faced sarcasm, he propped himself up on his elbows and looked up to meet the woman's awaiting azure stare, admitting, "It hurts every now and then. It's healing. Nothing to worry about, really."
"Sorry about that," Her unyielding look eased as she nodded towards the brunet's wounded thigh and held her hand out to aid him in standing.
Chuck gave her an amiable smile, bringing himself up without Sarah's assistance. "Occupational hazard."
First-class operation. Bryce stepped out of the black Volvo S80 and whistled as he beheld the three story office building – its white brick front and tall windows contributed to its modern appeal and aided in its façade as a security company. What did Chuck do to get this set-up? He turned to the indifferent operative whom identified herself as his former friend's partner. I wonder if he's gotten with her? Doesn't seem like his type though.
Sensing that she had become the subject of the accompanying agent's scrutiny, Forrest arched her brow at Larkin whom, in response, flashed a charismatic smile at her. Cocky ass, she remarked as the man was observably attempting to exploit his well-endowed qualities to gain her favor, instigating her to consider him abhorrent as she wordlessly proceeded inside the building.
Everything seems new. Are there any more agents posted around here? It must be just Chuck and Forrest, Bryce regarded the company's lack of 'employees' whilst he kept pace with the woman unaffected by his charm as she led him down a hall and into a meeting room comparably vacant as the rest of the facility. "LEOS Inc."
"A private security company acting as a front for the CIA's newly funded base here in LA – codename Castle." Forrest closed the door behind them and moved towards the conference table, sliding her hand along its underside before an indistinct click sounded, closely followed by a hidden keypad revealing itself. "Walker arrived beforehand to view the facility herself."
"I slept in." Bryce confessed, watching as the dour operative swiftly inputted a sequence of numbers that amalgamated into the appropriate PIN, initiating the long table to escalate to some extent before it slid away from them to expose a previously concealed staircase. Hidden basement?
"After you." Forrest slightly motioned her head towards the stairs as Larkin promptly complied with her statement.
"Omaha Project… Weren't we a part of it?" Graham heard Agent Walker query whilst recognition appeared to have reached her partner as somberness overtook the man's expression.
No doubt he remembers the same operation he tried to prevent Bartowski from getting recruited into. Inwardly shaking his head, the CIA Director responded, "Indeed. Agent Bartowski as well, though his experience was rather… dissimilar to yours."
"How so?" Bryce questioned firmly, glancing at said operative sitting at the conference table with trained impassivity, anticipating the worst had happened to Chuck, Did they brainwash him? No, no. They couldn't have, could they? It'd be immoral. Even so…
"You two were merely candidates to become the Human Intersect."
"Intersect…" The blonde repeated the term, recalling the stories she had heard of an alleged government server that held an immeasurable amount of encoded data that connected to every intelligence agency in the United States – though she had always dismissed them as rumors. "You mean the supercomputer filled with government secrets?" At Graham's nod of confirmation, her brows furrowed somewhat as she processed the information.
Bryce, taking a step closer towards the monitor, glared at his superior, "What do you mean Human Intersect?" It can't… Chuck can't be…
He evoked the time he had confronted Flemming about Chuck's recruitment into the Omaha Project. "Keywords in his essay responses correlated with 98% of the subliminal images in the exam… The agency is not going to let go of a recruit this promising."
"Bartowski is the Human Intersect." Forrest forthrightly disclosed to the two other agents in the room, hands behind her back as she stood erect behind her partner's seat. "He's undergone the same training at Langley and more."
"Indeed." Graham acknowledged the spoken truth, noting that it had quieted Walker and Larkin into contemplation, prior to returning his attention to the job he planned to assign to the four operatives.
"Donovan Reynolds – this man has gone through more aliases than you all combined." With the CIA Director's statement, numerous false ID photos of a very tan, forty-something man popped onto the screen along with his profile. "Several months ago, he started up a successful drug cartel there in LA. Ordinarily, we would leave this investigation for the DEA since the man isn't exactly our target, but…
"Intelligence suggests that Reynolds has recently involved himself in the arms smuggling business as well – his first client: James Welling." A family photo of a middle-aged businessman with his wife and daughter appeared on the monitor, initiating imbedded data to surface from Chuck's unconscious.
A rack of clothing
James Welling
Founder and CEO of Welling Industries, a top Fortune 500 company
Spouse of Emi Welling, née Shinoda
Heavily tied to the Japanese mafia due to wife's background
A rack of clothing
Chuck visibly winced, breaking his inexpressive mien; his head throbbed uncomfortably more than usual as he felt another flash commence.
A rooftop greenhouse
Ava Welling
Born May 8th, 1983 to the illustrious couple James and Emi Welling
Graduated Yale University as valedictorian, majoring in International Relations, at age 20
Tabloids claiming the latest word of her love life
Under CIA surveillance for possible recruitment
A rooftop greenhouse
"I want you to find out what he's bringing in for Welling and act accordingly – James Welling runs in some very powerful circles. I want Reynolds apprehended, not killed; understand? He's needed for questioning." Unaware of Bartowski's flash, Graham casted a glare at Larkin before adding, "This will be your first mission as a team. Don't make me regret it."
"So…" Bryce looked to the seated Human Intersect, oblivious to the pained expression the man exhibited seconds earlier before he regained his composure, "What's the plan?"
Grunting, Forrest answered for her partner, "Searched for when Welling's next shipment comes in." A tap on the keyboard elicited the results of the hard-faced blonde's search to display on the computer monitor. "Port of Long Beach. 1800 hours. We can start there."
"We've got plenty of time till then." Bryce offhandedly stated, "What are we supposed to do when we get there?"
Forrest promptly retorted, "What else than to take him in and question him." Her gaze fell to the weapons room as she thought longingly, Hopefully, there'll be firefight.
1758 Hours
Port of Long Beach
Long Beach, California
"What do you mean 'stay in the car'?" Sarah frowned, arms crossed, as she spun her seat around to glower at the man in response to his suggestion.
Chuck raised his hands as an attempt to hastily mollify the blonde, "I didn't say that. Did I say that? I didn't say that." Met with the agent's icy stare augmented by her brilliant blue eyes, he continued, "We need cover from behind. And you can do that." He held the sniper rifle out to Sarah, remarking the contusions the woman had acquired from the torture she had endured back in Paris that stained her otherwise flawless skin. She'll be safer out of sight as well.
What is he thinking? She pushed the proffered sniper rifle away from her, snapping, "I'm capable of taking care of myself." Does he think I'm too fragile or something? I can do my job just fine.
"Sorry." Chuck acquiesced to her decision, inwardly chiding himself for voicing his concern over the blonde's well-being when the woman was an expertly trained agent who was more than capable of minding herself prior to hearing his partner in his earpiece, updating him, "Reynolds and his men are here. And they're packing some heavy guns. Let's do this."
He mentally sighed as Forrest's last statement sounded a little bit too eager for him as thoughts of his partner going trigger-happy on the smugglers came to mind. He turned to Sarah and shrugged, "Well, you heard Forrest."
The small paths in-between the long rows of cargo permitted Bryce to move throughout the freighter without detection, his Heckler & Koch USP semi-automatic pistol at hand as he spotted Donovan Reynolds angrily barking orders at his men to open one of the containers.
"Not that one, you idiots. Look where I'm pointing at. Yes! Finally, yes, that one!"
Perceiving the sound of a suppressed shot, he deduced the hit as Forrest's before he followed in suit, firing at several of Reynolds' distracted goons. Three down, he moved back to his cover just as the smugglers launched their reprisal, marked by several bullets whizzing through the space his head had previously occupied.
Sarah ran from one shipment container to the next, shooting at their adversaries whenever she came out into the open. Diving to her cover in time to evade the barrage of bullets, she warned the others, "They have back up!"
"Bartowski, where are you?" Forrest growled through the piercing clanging of heavy gunfire raining against metal in the background of her side of the communications link.
"On your six." Chuck replied, adroitly sedating a looming hostile with the rapid pull of his tranq gun's trigger, and moved to cover his partner's back.
"Reynolds is getting away!" Sarah announced as she dispatched a smuggler whom came too close for comfort, "I'm going after him."
Delivering a jab to one of the remaining smugglers' solar plexus, Chuck took advantage of the man's disorientation and shot him in the thigh with his tranq; he recognized Sarah's form in the darkness as the blonde operative moved across the deck of the cargo ship, skulking behind the shadows of the shipments, and he trailed after her, "I'm right behind you, Sarah."
"We'll finish of the rest. Make sure Reynolds doesn't get away." Forrest instructed, elbowing a smuggler, who made the foolish decision to sneak up behind her, in the face prior to kneeing him in the groin.
Aiming his pistol behind him, Donovan Reynolds gave off several warning shots, threatening his pursuers that he was ready and willing to shoot. He had the package and all he had left to do now was to escape, so he could later deliver the hefty metal container to his client.
Unfortunately for the smuggler, fate – in the form of a stunning blonde – had other plans as the operative shot at his own weapon, effortlessly disarming him as she approached.
"You're not going anywhere, Reynolds." Sarah said, brandishing a pair of plastic handcuffs from her pocket and applying them to the frightened smuggler.
Chuck proceeded to the woman's side, pleased that they had successfully arrested Reynolds. What the… Stricken by surprise, he stumbled back as his vision became impaired, images appearing behind his eyelids, information rising from his subconscious.
A bunch of fortune cookies
An emerald ring similar to the one Reynolds wore
A blueprint of the ring and its function as a disguised USB drive
A bunch of fortune cookies
Groaning, Chuck clutched his head tightly at the unbearable pressure he was experiencing that caused him to crumple to his knees. "Agh!"
The agonized moan from her colleague alerted Sarah; she spun around from handling the smuggler and ran to the brunet's side, "Chuck! Are you okay? What's wrong?"
Author's Note: Please do review, comment, etc.
I greatly appreciate all the support!