Day 124

NSA HQ
FT Meade, MD

"Agent Walker, your note is identical to mine and to Major Casey's. It is written on a common yellow post-it available anywhere. The handwriting is different and the ink indicates each was written with a different pen. Any ideas?"

"It has to be someone who knows that Chuck was the intersect, who knows that Casey and I were involved with him and further, that someone knows that you're the control for the project. Why else leave notes for the three of us and not anyone else?"

"I asked around the Buy More and no one has received anything like it. I don't think they'd lie to me. It's a legitimate notification that Bartowski is alive as far as I'm concerned. Who wrote it is important only because they may know where he'd being held and by whom. I'm also interested in how they defeated the security around your building, General."

"You're assuming Bartowski's alive and not ash in a junk yard. That's a big assumption, Major Casey. I've had this building combed by experts and there is no evidence of tampering with alarms, glitches in the surveillance tapes or any other obvious signs. I've had the staff investigated and they're clean."

"Whoever it is knows I'm at the Farm and that you have an apartment in DC, General, and that Casey still lives and works in Burbank. Doesn't that provide any candidates?"

"There is one likely 'candidate' but I don't think the agent in question is involved. There would be too much risk of discovery and that would result in the agent's death either at the hands of Fulcrum or the CIA. This agent, well, this agent has been undercover for a long time and is finally in a position to influence events to our advantage. The CIA has issued a sanction order and I can't pull it without revealing the nature of the agent's assignment. I don't trust the CIA with this information, I just can't."

"OK, General, what do you suggest we do? You didn't call us here unless you had something in mind, right?" Casey had never seen Beckman so…unfocused.

She pointed to the large plasma monitor set in the wall in the conference room and said, " These security images are all that could be gleaned from the Tucson Intel operation. The facility was attacked 10 days ago. All personnel either killed or incapacitated. A virus was uploaded into the system corrupting the CIA's series of main frames that had been networked into it."

She clicked her mouse and an image fills the screen. The body of a security guard lies in front of the vault door leading to the computer center.

Another click.

The inside of the computer center. An analyst's body lies behind a wheeled office chair that is covered in blood.

Another click.

The inside of the vault door with two bloody palm prints impressed where the saboteur pushed on the door to open it and exit.

"We've received far better images of the prints from the CIA after waiting for their bureaucracy to finally remember we're in this together."

She turned and looked at Casey and Walker sitting on opposite sides of the conference table.

"Bartowski lives". She turned and pointed to the screen again.

Another click.

Charles Bartowski's NSA/CIA asset file, complete with prints and photographs fills the screen. Unlike the other images, the file is crisp and clean.

"The palm prints belong to Charles Bartowski. There is no doubt. I – we – the Director and I, feel that," again a hesitation.

"We believe that Fulcrum has Mr. Bartowski. He's either willingly participating or…"

She hesitated again and that caused both agents to look at each other for the first time since sitting at the conference table.

"We suspect that the Fulcrum download he absorbed twice during the cul-de-sac operation had side effects, perhaps overriding his will. We don't know where he is now but we certainly know where he was 10 days ago."

Another click and the screen blanked out.

"Now, agents, I want your gut opinions, not your professional ones couched in Agency bullshit. Did he defect? Was his participation in the Tucson raid a willing one or was he coerced somehow?"

Casey spoke with a firm resolve that Sarah wished Chuck could have heard. "Chuck Bartowski would never betray his country. Never."

Beckman nodded and then turned her expectant gaze on Sarah.

"And you, Agent Walker? You were the closest thing he had to a friend in this mess. What do you think? You spent the most time with him."

"I – I don't know. He hasn't been acting like himself lately. He seemed distracted and - I just don't know," she hesitated.

I was the damned distraction. I was everything he'd ever wanted when we'd been under cover in the cul-de-sac and he had the balls to ask if any of it had been real. His anger and disappointment had been palpable and she'd been given a taste of Bartowski Reality when he bluntly told her to stay out of his private life.

"I think if he were approached with the right enticement, yes, he might have defected. He wanted more and I wouldn't give him what he wanted. He was angry and told me to butt out of his private life since we were 'just friends'."

"Agent Walker, you're surely not saying that Bartowski would betray his country for sex, are you? That's…" She sputtered and looked at Casey as if asking for help.

Sarah was shocked and one glance at Casey showed she'd get zero support from him.

"He…he wanted more than a cover relationship, General Beckman, and that would have been disastrous. He's not like us. He doesn't fake emotions and he doesn't realize that…"

"Major Casey, please wait in the outer office. Agent Walker and I have a few things to settle. I'll buzz you when I want you to return."

Casey frowned and left. Walker was certainly a piece of work. Chuck had finally 'manned up' and she'd been forced into a corner and he'd called her bluff.

He'd listened to their conversations more than once on the 'prohibited' bugs he'd placed throughout her vehicle and her hotel suite. Rules didn't apply where the intersect host was concerned.

She was afraid of acknowledging what a blind and deaf man would have known in an instant. She'd deferred and deflected again and again until he finally demanded an answer. When she fed him the official Company line, he reacted in the only way he could. Casey had been almost proud of the moron.

While Casey stewed in the outer office Beckman called her aide for 'coffee service for two and hold my calls'. She leaned back in her chair and spent five seconds looking over the agent who sat stone-like across the desk from her.

"Agent Walker, the intersect host," she seemed to rethink her statement and then continued, "er, Chuck Bartowski, is a man. A regular, ordinary, civilian who has been thrust into our world that is full of lies, half-truths, deception, betrayal, intrigue and danger. He's struggling to adapt and survive."

The aide interrupted with a knock and slipped in and deposited the tray with the carafe full of coffee and cups and miscellaneous items on a small table and then slipped out just as quickly and quietly but not before giving Walker a look of…sympathy?

"Agent Walker, Sarah, assuming we can successfully extract Chuck Bartowski, he'll have to be either kept in protective custody or…"

"Wait, protective custody. That's your phrase for a bunker, isn't it, General? And what if we can't 'successfully extract' him? What? Kill him?"

Beckman ignored the interruption. She'd deal with it later. "As I was saying, protective custody or WitSec or deep cover assuming he can still function as the intersect. He'll need someone to watch over him, to watch out for him. He'll need someone…he'll need you, Sarah, if you're willing."

"I was doing that in L.A. and look what happened! I pushed him away just like I was supposed to and then I pulled him back in just like I was supposed to…back and forth until neither of us…"

"I see. All right. If he can be successfully extracted and can function, I'll assign someone else. I had assumed…but never mind. Ask Major Casey to join us."

"No! That's not what I meant at all. I want to be his 'watcher'…but I want more than is allowed. It's all or nothing. Those are my terms. You should know that up front, General."

Beckman's laugh shocked Sarah. "I've known about it for quite some time, Sarah. For a spy, you're not too creative in creating 'covers under the covers'. I agree to your terms. Now, get Major Casey for me. We have to investigate and search for our missing asset."

Day 141

Winter, Nevada
Conference Room

"Dr. Roberts, we are quite pleased with the mark's progress and I'm pleased to approve your plans to 'convert' young Bartowski to Fulcrum. I know that you've prepared a series of 'briefings' for his therapy sessions that will begin the process. Once he's fully conditioned, Prometheus can be overwritten and his ability to 'flash' will be restored. Excellent work, Doctor!"

"That's all I have time for. Submit your amended plans and we'll consider them."

The screen went blank and Jill wiped away the beads of sweat on her upper lip with a tissue. 'That was close. The bastards think I'm throwing Chuck away again. I'm not. He's mine. I earned this second chance and by God I'll have it…and him."

She still wasn't pregnant but it wasn't for lack of trying. She desperately wanted a child to bind him to her so that even if he somehow learned the truth he'd still stay by her side. She'd gone so far as to convince the doctor on the project to provide her with 'libido enhancing drugs' telling her that "the mark is beginning to bore me and I really need to maintain my interest and enthusiasm'. What do you have that can help?"

The weekly injections had relaxed her emotional control but had also turned her desire for sex with Chuck into an unquenchable thirst. He had whispered 'Sarah' when he climaxed their very first time together after his capture but now it was 'I love you, Jill'.

The next one of his 'therapy sessions' would make her very name a curse word for Chuck.

Day 145

'The Tank'
Fulcrum Medical Facility
Winter, Nevada

Jill whispered "Execute Achilles, I say again, execute Achilles."

His facial expressions solidified into a frozen mask and he kept his gaze fixed on the flickering displays. Thousands of images and snippets of 'recordings' poured into his brain that he would be told were 'recovered memories' from before his head wound.

Jill smiled, kissed him on the cheek and then left the darkened chamber. She removed her protective glasses and logged out. He'd be 'busy' for the next 24 hours and she wanted everything to be in place and ready for his next 'awakening'.

Day 147

He woke up with a nagging headache and slipped out of bed in search of some 'good drugs'. Chuck glanced at the clock beside the bed and shook his head. 6AM. He might as well go for a run before it got too hot and after a post-run shower he'd cook breakfast for them. Pancakes.

He got dressed for his run, gave his wife a lingering kiss on the lips and laughed when she murmured 'No, baby, I – wanna sleep'. He started the coffee and left. The sun was just peaking over the mountains and he nodded to the guard at the gate and set out for his morning 5 miles. It was good to be alone with his thoughts.

'Achilles is on his run. All stations be advised that Circe is still in residence. All stations continue monitoring.'

He was just hitting his stride when he had a flash of memory…Portland.

Bryce was down, his head almost gone and Sarah was crawling along on the floor, her back against the corridor wall. She looked back at Chuck and smiled and then shot him.

He staggered to a halt, bent over at the waist, fell to his knees and vomited.

Jill was pulled out of a deep sleep by the shrill alarm that echoed throughout the apartment. She hurried to dress while talking on the phone.

'Achilles is down, unconscious, after vomiting. His pupils are reactive but he's in some kind of a fugue state. He's being transported to Medical per your instructions.'

"I'll meet them there. He'll need another session. Set up the second series of tapes. He's primed and ready."