I'm not sure if people are still interested in reading Carmichael, but here's a new chapter!
Disclaimer: I do not own the television show Chuck.
Chuck Versus The Defector
13 January 2006
2255 Hours
Figueroa Hotel – Terrace & Pool
Los Angeles, California
An intoxicatingly sweet aroma arose from the abundance of floral growth that encompassed the open terrace and tinged the late night air while an assortment of exotic lanterns were positioned throughout the space, altogether emitting a warm illumination that contrasted against the evening sky.
A live band provided an upbeat instrumental complement to the festivity's foreign ambience beside the pool, where vivid flower petals were strewn across its clear turquoise surface as lotus-patterned tiles adorned its floor, situated at the center of the ornamented terrace. Guests comprising of Welling Industries' personnel laughed and danced as they partook in the carousal, reveling in the successful launch of the company's latest technological breakthrough.
A little more than a week had elapsed since LEOS Inc. had been tasked to provide protection for Welling Industries and more importantly, its CEO and his family.
Three days after being commissioned, Forrest had received intelligence from Reynolds' communications network – which she had Chuck hack upon the smuggler's capture – of a 'defected' yakuza member expected to arrive in Los Angeles sometime that week, naturally putting the entire clandestine squad on alert.
Strangely enough, the week had gone by without any incident so far, affecting the team to feel all the more trepidation towards the present fête.
Amidst the gaiety, the hotel event team, each member dressed fittingly apropos the Figueroa Hotel's colorfully rich theme, worked efficiently as they waited on the off duty businessmen and women, appearing as figures clad in strikingly vibrant tunics that evoked a distant land.
Chuck mentally sighed and refilled the drink of a particularly boisterous guest, operating under his cover as a part of the wait staff. Two hours had passed since the party had begun without a hitch, and nothing had occurred to make the Human Intersect believe otherwise. Hopefully, it'll stay this way.
Tumultuous cheer erupted from the bacchanalians, occasioning the waitron to turn his head and view the crowd whilst he continued to pour liquor into a carouser's glass, he froze with his mouth agape as he beheld the sight before him.
A multitude of colors in the form of entertainers entered the festivity, dancing through the mass of revelers and enticing several of them to join them as the band increased the tempo of the song they had been playing to accompany the lively arrival.
Garbed in a fitted bra and skirt, both elaborately decorated with beads, sequins, and embroidery that coordinated well with the ruby red cloth, a mesmerizingly beauteous dancer moved towards him, her actions effortlessly seductive as her half-lidded cerulean blue gaze fixed on his whilst her hips swayed oh so alluringly.
Chuck unconsciously gulped as she appeared to approach him, the distance between them rapidly decreasing with each step she took. His thoughts were instantly muddled into incoherent nonsense, reminding him of their initial meeting as he became aware of the loud, erratic beating that emanated from his chest.
Sarah paused beside him, leaning in close enough that her warm breath tickled his ear when she spoke, "You're drooling, Chuck."
He moved his head to face her, only to realize that she had continued past him; her presence ephemeral as she interacted with the mirthful guests, acting out her role as one of the performers. She turned once to look at him, a playful grin on her face, prior to resuming her circulation through the throng of white-collar workers.
Shaking his head at her teasing, Chuck smiled to himself, pleased that the resplendent agent was comfortable enough around him that a sort of good-humored banter had developed between them. I'll get her back for that.
Forrest growled her frustration, earning her a frightened yelp from a nearby guest, as she patrolled the perimeter of the social event. She hated parties – the guests were always unknowns and the risk of hitting a civilian during a firefight was high. If only I can stuff Welling and his family in a bunker and wait it out, this'd be a lot simpler.
A firm believer of Murphy's Law, the straitlaced blonde tended to lessen her apprehension in regard to the amount of improbabilities becoming feasible by studying the minutiae of each and every mission she was to participate in, and usually, it would work in terms of reducing her unease.
Unfortunately, there was not enough information on the incoming yakuza to appease her about her current assignment, leaving her unsatisfied with her lack of knowledge.
She scanned the terrace, espying Larkin where he stood alongside Welling, appearing wholly bored with his post as the CEO's personal security escort, whilst his partner/girlfriend masqueraded as a belly dancer, being the opposite of inconspicuous in terms of her attire and producing a sigh from Forrest as she recalled the skimpy outfits she personally had to wear in the past and the others she'd most likely have to sport in the future.
As her regard fell upon Bartowski posing as one of the many servers working the event, her brows furrowed as she discerned the expression the man held – his jaw was marginally clenched, his nostrils were flared imperceptibly, and his eyes had faintly squinted. A flash?
Soon enough, she saw him move, talking into the microphone in his watch as he did so.
"I just flashed," stated her partner, confirming her suspicions as she heard him continue speaking in her earpiece, "Waruhito Usotsuki. Worked his way up the ranks of the Yamaguchi-gumi real fast. He joined around the same time as Shinobu Tsukasa, but their relationship is largely based on their rivalry."
"Rivalry, huh?" asked Larkin, the idle chatter of the gaiety's attendees sounded clearly in the background of his side of the communications link.
"Yeah, the kind of rivalry where Usotsuki would kill a member of a rival gang and Tsukasa would up that by murdering leader of that same gang with a sword."
"Shit."
Spotting a man she deemed as Usotsuki advancing towards the head of Welling Industries, Forrest watchfully queried, "What does he look like?"
"About 5'10" wearing a white dress shirt with the top buttons undone, showing a bit of his tattoos."
Sarah announced, distinguishing the yakuza member from her position, "Bryce, he's heading your way!"
A crack shot with her tranq gun, Forrest responded to the confirmation of Usotsuki's location before Larkin even had the chance, efficaciously hitting the man on the neck with a heavy dose of a fast-acting sedative. The yakuza had been in midstride when he harmlessly slumped forward, inciting Welling and the other revelers to ignorantly regard the man as the first of many to be utterly intoxicated.
Forrest nodded to Bartowski and Walker, signaling them to take the man back to Castle for interrogation. That was easy.
0000 Hours
LEOS Inc.
Los Angeles, California
"How do I know your intel is reliable?"
Usotsuki shrugged, showing no indication being shaken by the unsmiling blonde's hostility as his response was thickly laden with a Japanese accent, "You don't, which is why you'll have to act upon what I've just told you."
The man was on the receiving end of Forrest's infamous ice-cold glare before the agent abruptly stood from her seat and exited the room, a bulky metal door slid behind her, encasing the yakuza member inside.
"What are we going to do?" Chuck acknowledged his partner/mentor who had joined him and Sarah on the other side of the one-way glass; the woman was noticeably conflicted on trusting Usotsuki's information.
Having traded her 'belly dancer' costume for a less revealing black shirt and jeans, Sarah stated to the brunet operative beside her, "If it's something serious as Welling's assassination, we have no choice."
"I don't like how this is turning out," said Chuck, disquieted by the seemingly effortless capture of the Yamaguchi-gumi's 'defected' member.
Forrest rubbed her temple at the thought of their predicament. "I'm going to join Larkin in keeping watch over Welling. You two, stay here and take care of Usotsuki and Reynolds."
0046 Hours
Figueroa Hotel – Terrace & Pool
Los Angeles, California
Despite the late hour, the party was still in full-swing. Welling and his colleagues laughed and drank without care, persistent in their carousing. Bryce settled himself away from the riotous behavior of the inebriated guests at a reasonable distance that would allow him to act swiftly and accordingly when necessary as he kept a vigilant watch on the CEO.
"Larkin," said Forrest as she drew close, guardedly surveying the space once she positioned herself beside the agent. "You got my message?"
Baring no surprise to the unsmiling blonde's sudden arrival, Bryce replied, "Yeah. So Usotsuki is a good guy or what?"
"Not sure, but we should proceed as if he told us the truth."
"So, we shooting to kill?"
"Only if this 'assassin' proves to be hostile."
Bryce nodded, warily scrutinizing those around the software magnate. "What're your thoughts on all this?"
"I have this gut feeling," Forrest responded, repositioning her hand to hover over her concealed tranq gun, "That something doesn't add up…"
Not long after her statement, a scream pierced through the hum of insouciant conversation, promptly hushing the guests as they looked to each other, seeking out the source of the exclamation among them.
0046 Hours
LEOS Inc.
Los Angeles, California
What the—?
Sarah automatically stiffened; her fingers lingered above the keyboard for she had been in the midst of typing up her report when she perceived the mute thud seemingly from above her.
The man seated next to her appeared to have heard the dull sound as well, his reaction being one where he tilted his head back to locate its origin as he whispered, "Sarah…"
"I heard it, too." She turned to him, his gaze observably fixated on the ceiling.
"Something doesn't feel right." Noiselessly rising from his seat, Chuck moved towards the proximate console to check on the base's security camera feeds. "My Intersect senses are tingling."
The reference was lost on his blonde colleague as she looked at him questioningly, resulting in him shaking his head, "Never mind."
"Chuck," Sarah motioned her head towards the workstation, nonverbally directing him to focus on the computer he stood in front of.
Footage of various locations within the base interchanged on the screen prior to exhibiting a live video feed of the detention cells, most were unoccupied except for one.
"Usotsuki isn't there!" A crease formed in-between his brows as Chuck hastily left the terminal for the weapons room attached to Castle's primary control center.
Having left her seat to view the monitor, which revealed the smuggler listlessly reclining on his cot as he stared at the lone doorway that sanctioned entry and exit to the space he was detained in, Sarah realized that her teammate's alarm was justified – the cell in which she expected the yakuza member to spend his temporary incarceration at the base in was deserted, the only way into the room perceptibly unlocked.
The armory sealed itself as the man moved to her side, extending to Sarah her preferred sidearm while he held a tranq gun readily in his possession and checked the security camera feeds once more. Oh, no.
The locking mechanism to the smuggler's cell had been deactivated by an outside source as the door slid aside, granting the escaped yakuza member access to walk inside. Usotsuki maintained an air of impassivity as he strode towards a startled Reynolds prior to expeditiously snapping the man's neck. Devoid of any emotion, his attention shifted from the inert body to the hidden recording device that had captured the swift dispatch of the smuggler, gazing directly at the camera prior to the screen going static.
0047 Hours
Figueroa Hotel – Terrace & Pool
Los Angeles, California
"Shit," Bryce spoke aloud the sole expletive that currently echoed throughout his mind and summarily rushed to the man who had crumpled to the ground whilst he returned his Heckler & Koch USP semi-automatic pistol to the back of his waistband.
Late in his forties, the man was of Japanese descent; there was a jagged scar across his face and an amalgamation of countless tattoos was visible from its concealment underneath his suit as it rose visibly to his neck, hinting at the possibility that the majority of his body was marked with the permanent body art, a telltale sign of his affiliation with the yakuza. He clutched his right shoulder, the excruciation from his injury palpable as his breaths came out ragged and his skin grew insipid whilst the cloth encircling the bullet wound darkened with sanguine.
"What the hell?" cried a younger woman whom kneeled at the scathed man's side, scowling at the brunet operative standing before her, her hazel eyes piercing his.
Determining the raven-haired woman as James Welling's daughter, Ava, Bryce struggled to find an appropriate response, Shit. "I— Well, you screamed."
"And that validates what exactly? That you're a trigger-happy lunatic?" Ava remained at the man's side as she glowered at the agent acting as her father's bodyguard with unparalleled vehemence. "You shot my uncle!"
Her uncle? "But, you screamed…" Bryce restated inanely, catching sight of Forrest from his peripherals as the blonde operative diverted the guests from crowding around them.
"I haven't seen him in years, you—"
A pained cough escaped the older man's lips, effectively procuring his niece's attention as well as his assailant's before he spoke in his native tongue, his voice enervated as the ever-growing maroon splotch indicated the rate of his hemorrhage.
"What do you mean?" frowned Ava as she inclined her head closer to hear her uncle's words, knowledgeably applying pressure to his injury, her hands became coated in crimson as she did so.
Acquainted with the language to some extent, Bryce fathomed snippets of what the Japanese man muttered, "You and your parents in danger… Came to warn you… A revolt within the Yamaguchi-gumi… Usotsuki is a traitor… wants control of the Yamaguchi-gumi… struck a deal with… some organization… Assassin coming… Must leave…"
Ava had remained still even after her uncle finished divulging she and her family's present endangerment, her mind hurriedly processing the influx of information, consequently producing her bewilderment as to what she was supposed to do next.
As the paramedics arrived to treat her uncle, she looked to the senseless guard whom had caused her relative's impairment – the man had moved away from her and towards another of her father's hired protection, both appeared to be in a tense discussion as the blonde security escort looked more agitated than Ava had ever seen her afore.
"Larkin," hissed Forrest, staring daggers at her associate for his impetuosity. "I strongly advise you to exchange that firearm of yours for a tranq or you might find yourself back at Langley, going through basic more times than you can possibly count until you learn how to properly handle one with discretion you undoubtedly lack." She mentally snarled, Moron.
Paying no mind to the reproachful woman scowling at him, Bryce recapped what the wounded man had told his niece, "Usotsuki turned on the Yamaguchi-gumi… He joined up with some other organization to help him seize power over the gang… There's an assassin coming…"
Author's Note: I apologize for the prolonged hiatus. I've been quite busy with finalizing college nonsense and partaking in senior year activities. Prom is next weekend, so that's a bit exciting, I suppose.
Yay for the limo? I don't know.
Anyways, thank you for taking the time to read the chapter! Constructive criticism and reviews are appreciated and encouraged! After all, I don't get paid, so might as well just give me your thoughts on this. Thanks again!