Sorry, I took so long! I'll try and update more frequently, but I'm not sure if that's possible with my present schedule.
Disclaimer: I do not own Chuck, otherwise they'd be making a movie
Chuck Versus The Purple Smoke
1 January 2006
1827 Hours
Port of Long Beach
Long Beach, California
Streams of images, each unrelated to its precursor, inundated the Human Intersect's consciousness, unrelenting as the protracted flash displayed no indication of its end. Mercifully, however, it did, leaving Chuck Bartowski on his knees as the inexorable compression he suffered mere seconds ago gradually dissipated.
"Chuck, what happened?" Sarah asked as she took the operative's well-being into careful consideration, minding after him as Chuck wearily stood to his full height, several inches taller than her.
Exhaling slowly, his eyes closed as afterimages played on the back of his eyelids, Chuck replied quietly enough for only the blonde agent to hear, "Just a flash. Grab Reynolds' ring – it's a USB."
The brunet said nothing more as he retrieved his tranq gun from where he had dropped it during his abnormally lengthy flash. What's going on? Why are my flashes becoming more and more painful? He clenched his jaw, willing himself to ignore the residual throbbing. The flash I had about Reynolds' ring was followed by more pictures but no data…
"We've got a nice cold cell waiting for you, Reynolds." Forrest acknowledged the apprehended smuggler with an indistinct trace of contentment playing on her features as she approached the agents who had caught him, "Walker, Carmichael, good job."
"Nice work, team." Bryce smiled pleasantly, looking to Chuck for an amiable response and obtaining none as the taller operative replied with silence as the man wordlessly followed after Sarah and Forrest.
1910 Hours
LEOS Inc.
Los Angeles, California
Upon their return to Castle, the team divided into two groups: Sarah and Bryce remained in the base's primary control center whilst Forrest and Chuck conducted their captive into one of the detention cells.
"Something wrong, Bartowski?" Forrest queried once Reynolds was appropriately situated in a holding cell and out-of-earshot. Standing beside the security lock console, the man she had addressed finalized applying security measures to ensure the smuggler stayed incarcerated. He's been quiet since the ride back.
"Nothing some aspirin can't fix," Chuck responded, downgrading his concern towards his increasingly discomforting flashes. It's probably nothing. I'll get better in a couple days or so. Maybe I'm sleep-deprived – that's it. I mean, I haven't really gotten the chance to relax since I returned home.
A few seconds of unconvinced scrutiny from his hard-faced partner were followed by the woman's doubtful reception to his reply as she proceeded to head back to the main part of Castle, "If you say so… I noticed you were acting rather cold towards Larkin."
Chuck frowned at the observation, walking in pace with Forrest, "You should know. You did read my file right?"
"What would have I gotten out of reading your file?"
"He got me kicked out of Stanford," Chuck's voice was bitter as he said it. "We didn't exactly leave on good terms."
Forrest quirked her brow as if she was unaware of the relationship between Bartowski and Larkin that had turned sour the same year her partner had been recruited into the Omaha Project. She had read Bartowski's file frequently enough during the period she had been assigned to train him that it was committed to her memory – it was rare for him to talk of it though. "Never thought you'd be one to hold a grudge."
"I'm not. I just can't find myself to trust him," the brunet retorted as the dull ache from earlier spiked enough for him to wince.
Discerning her partner's customary display of discomfort in the form of his clenched jaw, Forrest's attention was caught as she asked, "You alrig—"
A loud alarm rang throughout Castle as the lights dimmed slightly to allocate the necessary power where it was needed elsewhere, preventing the blonde operative from completing her query.
Without further thought, Chuck and Forrest ran down the hall towards the center of the base, weapons drawn and held at their side. They found themselves locked out by the bulletproof glass door, confining them to the hall as they viewed the other side of the door.
Forrest growled as she observed the purple smoke cloud the room, obscuring anyone inside. "Walker and Larkin, they're in there."
"Castle's defense system has already contained the area and it's venting the gas right now," Chuck stated as he impatiently waited for the all of the base's safety procedures to be dealt with. Come on, come on… They're going to be okay. Please let them be okay. The haze of heliotrope was progressively expelled by the ventilation system to finally reveal two coughing-but-very-much-alive agents.
The moment the glass door slid aside, sanctioning their entry into the previously contaminated space, Forrest advanced towards the source of the mauve smog, a bulky metal container that sat ajar atop the table in front of a seated, purple-faced Larkin. Why am I not surprised? "What the hell did you do?"
"Opened it." Bryce coughed, releasing sprays of violet as he did so.
"Clearly," Chuck remarked as he headed straight towards the nearest computer terminal. "It's obvious what happened here."
Standing several feet away from her partner, enough distance that she was not as affected and purple-coated as Bryce, Sarah sneezed and pinched the bridge of her nose, "I tried to stop him."
"Do you have any idea how rash that was?" Forrest snarled at the seated operative, "You could've gotten yourself and Walker killed."
"Keywords: Could have." Bryce gave an imprudent smile, running his fingers through his hair, which was stained from the colored smoke. "We're obviously fine."
"It was a non-toxic purple colorant," Chuck reiterated the results of the defense system's analysis on the foreign contaminant. "You're lucky."
Crossing her arms, Forrest nodded at the open package, "Find anything that was worth the risk?" Idiot.
Bryce searched the box, only to find a piece of paper with a strange, wide diamond-shaped emblem, and said more to himself than anyone else, "What is this?"
Recognizing the symbol, Sarah replied, "I've seen that insignia before." She moved towards the workstation Chuck had been using as the taller brunet stepped aside for her to elucidate them on her findings; with her fingers moving deftly across the keyboard, she directed several windows to appear on the monitors of the large-scale communications grid. "These are documented dealings between Reynolds and his clients."
The identities of the smuggler's numerous clients were all accumulated into a list, which swiftly scrolled up each screen in the room prior to halting abruptly as a single name was highlighted from the rest: Shinobu Tsukasa.
A scenic photo of Niagara Falls
Shinobu Tsukasa – born as Kenichi Shinoda
Early 1970s: Incarcerated for 13 years due to murdering a rival crime boss with a katana
Noted as possible successor to Yamaguchi-gumi, Japan's largest yakuza organization
Indirectly connected to various murders and crimes
A scenic photo of Niagara Falls
Placing a hand on his head as an attempt to palliate the throbbing headache that had accompanied his flash, Chuck disclosed the encoded data that emerged from his subconscious, "Shinobu Tsukasa. His real name is Kenichi Shinoda. He's part of the largest criminal organization, or yakuza, in all of Japan – the Yamaguchi-gumi."
"Not just part of the Yamaguchi-gumi," the blonde woman beside him tapped a key on the terminal, prompting several windows pertaining to Shinobu Tsukasa/Kenichi Shinoda to appear on the monitors. Sarah continued, "He took control of the organization last year on July. Last month, he was sentenced for six years in prison for gun possession."
"So, this emblem is the Yamaguchi-gumi's." Bryce thought aloud as he compared the symbol on the paper he held to the crest presently displayed on the screen along with the yakuza leader's profile. "Why would this be in the package for Welling?"
"I know one way to find out," Forrest stated as she observed the live video feed of Reynolds in his cell – the spray-tanned man was pacing in the small space. Let's see how fast this orange will talk.
Less than ten minutes had passed before Forrest formidably walked into the control center from the interrogation room, a hand held blow torch in her possession. "It's a bit ironic how much Reynolds was scared off by a little heat, considering how much time he spends at tanning salons."
"What'd he say?" asked Bryce who was now rid of the purple colorant for the most part, leaving only subdued remnants of the powder on the edges of his face.
Forrest replied, "From what he had found out, Tsukasa had managed to convince Welling to ship weapons to the Yamaguchi-gumi. Welling made a deal with Reynolds to do so. But this was couple months back though. Before Tsukasa's arrest.
"I think Welling heard that Tsukasa got arrested and assumed that their arrangement would be canceled because of it, or at least, delayed. The package with the colorant and the emblem was to remind Welling that their deal is still on."
"Well, we intercepted the package. Welling has no idea that Tsukasa is waiting for those weapons," Chuck joined the conversation, his headache subsiding after ingesting some aspirin.
"Tsukasa will think that Welling screwed him over," said Bryce as he stared intently at one of the monitors that displayed a candid black-and-white photo of the Yamaguchi-gumi leader walking out to an unknown destination. The man wore a trim suit with his hair cropped short; his most distinguishable features were his pencil-thin mustache and hardened facial expression. "What's the plan?"
"We need to set up a security measure – Tsukasa is sure to respond violently once he comes to think that he's been 'screwed over,'" Forrest stated, already working at a nearby terminal to locate Welling's whereabouts.
"How do you know he'll act to this?" Bryce queried.
"The man killed a rival crime boss with a sword," answered Chuck. "I really doubt he's calmed down since then."
4 January 2006
1815 Hours
Welling Industries – Corporate Headquarters
Los Angeles, California
The sun had already set, blanketing the sky with nightfall, only to be brightly illuminated by the city's active populace. Situated downtown and largely indistinguishable from its contiguous counterparts, one of the sleek high-rises is merely differentiated from the rest as the corporate building of Welling Industries.
Three days had passed since the night of the Heliotrope Haze – the same night Forrest had resolved that they were to keep watch on Welling and his family as a precaution to their vulnerability to whatever plan the Yamaguchi-gumi leader had devised as reprisal for the betrayal he believed had occurred.
"Hey," greeted Chuck as he entered the black Porsche Cayman S deliberately parked across the street from Welling Industries' company building.
Noting the large paper bag the man carried, Sarah asked, "Where have you been? You were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago." This is the first time we've paired up for a stakeout; usually, it's me and Bryce while he sticks with Forrest.
"Prepare for an unforgettable stakeout because I got us…" Chuck began as he reached into the brown bag to retrieve two white Chinese takeout boxes and handed one to his partner for the night, "Sizzling Shrimp! Ta-dah!"
Smiling at the brunet's presentation of their dinner, Sarah imitated the man whom eagerly began to consume the contents of his box as she opened hers and began to eat.
Chuck had paused, waiting as the striking woman beside him tasted sizzling shrimp for the first time, her response to the new experience clearly evident on her features as her eyes closed and a soft moan escaped her as an effect of what he and Morgan liked to call 'Sizzling Shrimp bliss.'
"This is delicious!" Sarah enthused as she ate with more fervor.
Grinning, Chuck agreed, "I know, right? But, wait, this is just part numero uno of tonight's stakeout agenda."
"What's number two?" asked Sarah, the corners of her lips quirking upward as a result of Chuck's infectious smile.
"Well," Chuck stated as he set down his sizzling shrimp to search his pockets for his iPod, "Do you like music?"
"Uh, I guess."
Raising a brow, Chuck repeated, "You guess?" He was met with a silent shrug from the blonde beside him, prompting him to shake his head in disbelief, "Oh, my gosh… oh, my gosh."
Sarah chuckled at the man's incredulity towards her musical deprivation, "I don't listen to music."
"We need to fix that," Chuck determined as he scanned the songs he had in his iPod before finally making his decision, "You'll like this. Trust me."
Watching as the brunet handed her an earbud headphone to pop in her ear as he placed the other in his, Sarah followed in suit.
Silence fell in the car as the gradual beating of drums initiated the song ever so slowly and brilliantly that by the time the vocals came on, Chuck had his eyes closed as he nodded his head along with the music, producing a smile from Sarah whom found his deep immersion to the song endearing.
Before long, the song came to its end. Opening his eyes to see how Sarah reacted to his choice of music, Chuck was surprised to find her looking at him, occasioning to him returning the smile she wore.
"I like it," affirmed Sarah, looking at the iPod that was placed between them for the name of the song. "Open Your Arms by Editors?"
"Yeah," responded Chuck. "I can make you a mix CD if you want."
Smiling once more, Sarah replied, "That'd be great."
Author's Note: As always, thank you for reading!
Criticisms, reviews, comments, etc. are welcome! And, thanks for being patient with me!