I had some free time, so here's another chapter!

Disclaimer: I do not own Chuck.

Chuck Versus The Ski Mask

4 January 2006

1900 Hours

LEOS Inc.

Los Angeles, California

"What's the status on your assignment?"

Forrest stood straight and looked onto the wide array of monitors in front of her – the main screen displayed her superior, CIA Director Langston Graham, awaiting her update regarding the mission. "Presently, Reynolds is under our custody here in Castle. We've got round-the-clock surveillance on Welling and his family as a preemptive measure. Bartowski and I took the first night's watch, Larkin and Walker were last night's, and Bartowski is with Walker for tonight's."

"Speaking of your squadmates," began Graham, his mien devoid of anything other than cool calculation. "I want an assessment on the interaction amongst the team. Tell me who works well with whom out in the field and your thoughts on each of them. Graham, out." With that concluding statement, the video conference ceased, returning the CIA emblem back onto the screen to indicate the dormant state of the monitor.

An assessment? Forrest contemplated the task she was had been instructed with, intrigued as to why the CIA Director required a review of her fellow operatives.

2120 Hours

Welling Industries – Corporate Headquarters

Los Angeles, California

Leaning forward a bit from her seat, arms high above her head, Sarah stretched to mollify her stiffening muscles. She had been in her car for far too long; hours of doing nothing but surveillance were always tedious and lengthy. It, unquestionably, was not one of the finer points of being a spy, but she was not one to complain as she sat there, staring at the laptop on her dashboard that displayed multiple security camera feeds of the Welling Industries' building across the street. At least she had company.

"How does the Intersect work?" said Sarah, promptly acquiring the attention of the brunet seated beside her.

"Well," Chuck took a second to respond, "First, something or someone will trigger it. Then, these pictures encoded with data flash through my mind, flooding my head with information on whatever initiated the flash before it stops and I snap back to consciousness."

Remembering how pained the Human Intersect had been during what she deduced as a flash at the Port of Long Beach, Sarah tilted her head inquisitively, "Are all your – flashes, right? – Are they typically uncomfortable?"

"Not until recently," responded Chuck before asking, "So, seen any good movies lately?"

Inwardly displeased at the sudden change of topic, Sarah replied, "I don't, uh, watch movies."

"Not even Star Wars?"

"Star what?"

"Dune?"

"There's a movie about sand dunes?"

"Back to the Future?"

"Uh, no."

"Great Scott! First, music – now, movies?" Chuck shook his head in mock disappointment, "Come on, Sarah. Work with me here!" An easy smile emerged on his face as he said, "Seriously, we should have a movie night. You've been deprived of so many great films!"

Amused, Sarah raised her brow, "A movie night?"

"Yeah. You, me, and Forrest," Chuck said before adding, "…And Bryce can come too. What do you think?"

The brunet's affable demeanor was uncommon in the clandestine business; it was even rarer to realize that the man was sincere about his friendship. Chuck had done nothing to earn her distrust – in fact, most of the things he did had proven that he was worthy of the opposite despite the short period of time they knew each other.

"Sarah?" Chuck tilted his head as he tried to gain the blonde's attention. "You there?"

With the beginnings of a smile on her lips, Sarah replied, "I'll think about it."

"Stop!" A lone security guard shouted intermittently as he requested for backup through his walkie-talkie.

Less than a few minutes earlier, he had been languidly making his customary rounds on the twenty-third of the thirty floors that comprised the Welling Industries' corporate headquarters. He had stopped to regard the view of the late downtown Los Angeles skyline when he heard a crash from one of the nearby offices – one he knew should have been unoccupied by that time of night. Driven by his duty to provide protection over the premises, the night watchman fumbled with his keys before he cautiously unlocked the room where the noise had originated from and opened it with vigilance.

The office space was relatively well-kept – but, that was prior to a figure whose identity was shrouded by a ski mask ramming him aside and leaving him befuddled on the floor as the intruder bolted out the door. As he got up, he became aware of the detached ventilation cover that rested on the floor directly below the opening where it should have been attached.

Shit, thought the guard before he dashed after the trespasser.

Presently, the security guard unrelented in his pursuit despite his arduous panting which was a consequence of his sedentary lifestyle and habitual consumption of junk food.

The intruder was several yards ahead of him, undoubtedly in better shape than he was as the individual clad entirely in black darted towards the fire escape, rushing down three steps at a time.

The night watchman repeated, "Stop!"

The trespasser responded with silence before leaving the stairs for the door that opened to the twentieth floor.

"Eckhart," said the guard into his walkie-talkie through labored breathing, "The intruder just went to your floor. Be on the lookout."

"Copy that. I think I see the gu—" The line stopped midsentence. Something happened to Eckhart.

Gun drawn and held at her side, Sarah had ran into the company building after sighting a strange figure running through the halls of the twenty-third floor on the security camera feeds. She had directed Chuck to stay in her car and keep her notified on the intruder's progress within the building through the ear comms.

She heard the brunet update her in her ear piece, "The guy just incapacitated a guard on the twentieth floor. It looks like he's going to one of the offices, looking for something."

"Chuck, can you make sure to erase any footage of me on the security cameras?" asked Sarah as she entered the elevator, hoping it would swiftly transport her to the floor the trespasser was currently on.

"On it. Oh, and another guard just got to the twentieth floor via the fire escape. He's the same one who was chasing our guy in black earlier on the twenty-third floor."

"All right."

"Mr. Ski Mask moved to another office, one on the far side of the floor. The guard is closing in on his location."

With a ding, the elevator doors slid apart, permitting Sarah to pass into the twentieth floor. The hall provided no cover as she snuck down it, alert and vigilant. She passed by an unconscious form of a security guard, most likely the one Chuck had updated her on.

"Put your hands up in the air!" She heard a man order from somewhere ahead of her; she was close. The man's anxiety towards wielding a weapon was palpable in his voice as he warned, "I w-will shoot!"

Chuck alerted her of the current situation, "The security guard is armed and has the guy cornered."

What sounded like a loud strike resounded from the office that Sarah had determined as the room that the security guard and the trespasser were in.

"Okay, forget what I said earlier. The masked burglar roundhouse kicked the guard in the face. Complete and total knockout."

The disguised intruder hurried out of the room, seemingly with nothing in their possession, oblivious to the blonde woman hidden in the dim hall behind him whom had her S&W pistol trained on the fleeing individual.

Without a word, Sarah pulled the trigger – her shot had grazed the trespasser on his left arm, ripping a gash onto the black turtleneck sweater the man wore. The man hissed an expletive whilst he clutched his injury and ran away from his unseen attacker prior to entering the elevator.

The elevator doors closed before Sarah could do anything to prevent it. Damn it, she thought. "Chuck, can y—"

"Already on it, Sarah," replied the agent on the other side of the comm link without missing a beat, "I got the elevator stopped on halfway down the nineteenth floor. You better hurry."

"Thanks, Chuck," she said as she dashed for the stairs, tearing down several steps at a time to make it to the level below.

The nineteenth floor had the same essential layout as the floor above it and most likely the rest of the corporate building as well, save for the bottom floor and possibly the CEO office. As Sarah found herself facing the elevator doors, she asked, "Chuck, can you open the doors somehow?"

For a brief second, there was a lack of response from her fellow operative before the elevator doors began to separate, revealing the elevator and how it had been able to progress halfway down to the floor below prior to Chuck's interference. There was, unfortunately, no sign of the masked intruder.

"He's not here."

"What? He's there. I can see him leaning against the wall," argued the brunet she imagined was sitting in her Porsche, very confused.

"He's gone, Chuck," repeated Sarah as she examined the open hatch on the elevator's ceiling, "He must've somehow managed to get the security feed to replay that recording of him while he escaped through hatch on the roof of the elevator."

5 January 2006

0150 Hours

LEOS Inc.

Los Angeles, California

Forrest said inquisitively, "What are you two doing back here? You need to keep watch on–"

"We made sure Welling got back home safe before coming here," answered Chuck before taking a seat beside his stern-faced partner, "There was a break-in at Welling Industries."

"What?" Forrest growled, her brows furrowing as her expression more than suggested her demand for more information on the topic.

Sarah folded her arms in front of her chest, "The LAPD is still investigating, and any findings right now are inconclusive. The man went nowhere near Welling for it to be an assassination attempt – it seemed like he was looking for something but he didn't appear to have taken anything when I shot at him."

"You shot him?" Forrest arched an eyebrow at the standing operative.

"It was just a graze," defended Sarah, instigating Chuck to shake his head.

"Like how it was just a graze when you shot at me on the Hotel Du Louvre rooftop," he remarked jokingly as he held no hard feelings over the incident.

Sarah frowned slightly, though a hint of a smile had begun to form on her face, "I said I was sorry."

"Yeah, yeah," replied the brunet, "Doesn't change the fact that you crippled me."

Rolling her eyes, Sarah smiled, "Don't be such a wimp, Carmichael."

"Hey," Bryce met the gathered team with a smile and well-rehearsed charm as he entered the space from out of nowhere, "Team meeting or something?"

"Bryce, what are you still doing here?" inquired Sarah, finding it strange for her partner to be at Castle so early in the morning – he had a tendency to sleep in whenever he could.

"Felt like paying Forrest a visit is all, babe."

The agent's response prompted Forrest to scowl in dismissal of the statement, "More like annoy me to death." She turned to Walker and Bartowski, "Larkin came an hour ago."

As Sarah relayed what had transpired at the corporate headquarters of Welling Industries to her partner, Forrest turned to the brunet seated beside her, "What do you think we should do?"

"I'm not sure," Chuck leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the table in front of him as he covered his face with his hands, blocking the light as he began to feel pressure budding in his head for some unknown reason – a start of another headache, no doubt.

"We need to get closer to the Wellings," stated Bryce once he had heard everything concerning the recent events, "Our chances of protecting them will get better if we're closer to them. It's obvious that the stakeouts aren't doing anything to help. Tonight is proof of that."

Chuck, gradually lowering his hands from his face, said, "What, then, do you suggest?"

"LEOS Inc. is a security company, and I'd have to say that the break-in is a great opportunity for us."

1224 Hours

Café Del Sol

Los Angeles, California

The wintry breeze from that morning had ceased, allowing the sun to exude its warmth which was happily received by the urbanites as a break from the protracted winter climate that the city of Los Angeles and its surrounding area had been experiencing for the past few weeks or so.

Situated on a corner lot in downtown Los Angeles and within reasonable distance of several major businesses in its vicinity as well as being famed for its tasteful menu and serene atmosphere, making it a sort of retreat from the bustling, fast-paced life in the city, it was unsurprising that Café Del Sol was regularly frequented by the founder of Welling Industries.

It was there at the café that Bryce had set up a meeting with the endangered CEO, under the guise of a representative for LEOS Inc. The plan was simple: he was to appeal to the expected concern that James Welling was experiencing subsequent the recent break-in and succeed in getting LEOS Inc. contracted to take charge in the fortification of the security at the Fortune 500 Company. From there, the team would be able to keep a close watch on the businessman and any suspicious activity he got himself in. This is going to be easy, reckoned Bryce as he reached for the glass of ice water that the waitress had placed on the table for him earlier, faintly wincing as his left arm stung when he extended it. Welling was all too willing to set up this meeting to discuss his company's security.

"Bruce Anderson?" A bespectacled middle-aged man with dark hair peppered with grey inquired, unsure whether the waitress had directed him to the wrong seat or the security company representative he scheduled to meet was indeed the young, aesthetically endowed young man whom sat before him.

Acknowledging the older businessman, Bryce stood and held his hand out to the CEO, shaking it firmly as he flashed his well-rehearsed plastic smile, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Welling."

"And you as well," said Welling before joining the younger man at the table. "Do tell me about your company. Your call was the first time I've ever heard of LEOS Inc."

"I see," Bryce said, understandingly, "LEOS Inc. is a private security firm that was founded in 2003. Despite our company's establishment being rather recent, your safety along with your company's is guaranteed. Each of our employees has gone through the company's specialized defense training, which rivals the complex regimen of the Navy SEALs," Bryce paused as he retrieved a large organized portfolio from his briefcase, "These are some of the company's previous clients – as you can see, LEOS Inc. has been reasonably busy since its founding."

The record was extensive as well as simultaneously being entirely fictional and believable; it also listed the contact information of the various clientele of the security company's past, all of which, if checked by the older of the two seated men, led to a secure line back at Castle that the rest of the team had been appointed to manage.

"Indeed," replied the man, his glasses balanced on the tip of his nose as he regarded the list, discernibly impressed by the contents of the file. "Do you mind giving me a copy of this so I can—"

Without hesitation, Bryce smiled at the predicted response, "Go right ahead."

1310 Hours

LEOS Inc.

Los Angeles, California

Setting down the phone she had been speaking into mere seconds ago with the CEO of Welling Industries, a man whom had bombarded her with questions about the service that LEOS Inc. had provided her faux computer company till he was thoroughly satisfied, Forrest marginally relaxed into her seat, thinking aloud, "Looks like Larkin is good for something after all."

Author's Note: Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter! Do review! I like hearing what everyone has to say.

Also, I've written three pages of the next chapter already, so hooray for being a bit ahead of schedule!

Have a good weekend.