Sleepingwiththeenemy6
A/N: You bloody ungrateful bastuds can thank my Nik for this. If I had my way I'd have waited another month to update. Last time I gave you TWO...won't happen again. In fact THIS might be the last unappreciated chapter. I'd rather sleep at Heathrow than worry about this crap. And yes, I'm cranky. IT'S CHARAH TIME.
NOTE: STORY POV WILL SHIFT TO SARAH'S AS SHE TRIES TO MAKE SENSE OF WHAT'S BEEN DONE TO CHUCK AND HELP HIM FIND HIS WAY BACK TO REALITY. LOTS OF REALITY CHECKS. THE TEAM LIVES WITH KNOWING THAT CHUCK'S FUSE HAS BEEN LIT AND NOW IT'S A RACE TO RESTORE HIM TO SANITY OR PUT HIM DOWN LIKE A RABID DOG BEFORE HIS PROGRAM KICKS IN. PROMETHEUS, ACHILLES AND ICARUS. CAN SARAH FIGURE OUT WHAT EACH PROGRAM DID AND CAN STILL DO? WILL SHE SAVE HIM OR BE THE ONE TO END HIM? AND IS JILL REALLY DONE WITH HIM?
Day 166 (continued)
"Chuck, do you trust me?"
"Of course I do! Why ask such a stupid question? What's going on here, Jill?"
"Nothing I can't handle, beloved. Now, I want you to listen and do exactly what I tell you to do. There are things happening that you can't possibly understand but you have to trust me. I have our best interests at heart, baby, believe me."
Actually, she had her best interests at heart. She'd had a conversation with her immediate superior while Chuck had been unconscious and as a result of that conversation had made a huge decision.
"You're scaring me, Jill. This isn't like you to be so damned mysterious and obtuse. What's going on? You wanted to talk, so talk."
"Not yet. Not until we're someplace no prying ears can hear us. Trust me, Chuck. I haven't let you down yet, have I?"
"Fine. So where is this mysterious place that is…"
Jill led him down the hallway away from his room into a corridor of closed doors and stopped at one clearly marked, 'Storage'.
"We're here, almost. Follow me." She keyed in a combination on the lock and leaned in for a retina scan and the door clicked open with a 'clack' that rebounded down the hallway. Jill seemed to cringe at the sound but then pulled open the door and shoved him through it.
It was a storage closet – apparently for maintenance if the odor of Lysol and the sour smell of mops and buckets that filled the place was any indication of its purpose. She didn't turn on a light and just stepped in front of him, took him by the hand and pulled him through the maze until they reached the back wall made of painted cinder blocks.
"Jill…"
"Shhh! No talking. Not now."
She pressed a few of the blocks and the wall swung inward on gimbals revealing a control room and a medical operating room that could be seen through the glass window that separated the two rooms.
She pulled him through the opening and then slammed the 'wall' shut. From this side, it was obviously a secure door made of heavy metal plates. Jill started up a computer, hit the light bar controlling the ceiling lights in both rooms and then breathed a heavy sigh of relief.
"Come with me, Chuck. I'll explain everything to you but you just have to trust me." She pulled him into the operating room and pointed to the gurney. He noticed that one wall was a big mirror. He hopped up on the gurney, his feet swinging back and forth like a little kid.
"Jill, where are we? Why all the cloak and dagger?" He laughed. They were spies. Everything was cloak and dagger.
"OK, Chuck. Sit. Listen. Listen only to the sound of my voice. I love you, Chuck. Delete Prometheus."
Chuck's smile froze and his eyes rolled up into the back of his head and he began shaking slightly like he was shivering. Jill pushed him down on his back and quickly and efficiently stripped him of all his clothing. She extended two 'wings' from the gurney and secured each of his arms using restraints and inserted an IV drip into each arm. She used the remaining restraints to totally secure him to the gurney and then pushed a foot pedal that raised it so that he was almost standing, still affixed to the gurney.
Jill attached EEG sensors and ran more sensors from the EKG to his chest all the while keeping an eye on him for signs of severe distress.
"Chuck, listen only to the sound of my voice. I love you, Chuck. Remember Achilles."
He moaned and a small bit of blood trickled from one of his nostrils. She used a piece of gauze to clean it up and checked the EEG monitor for any dangerous spikes. So far, so good. She pulled a monitor and keyboard over to her and keyed up a series of programs.
Only one step remained and then they would be done with Chuck Bartowski. She pulled down what appeared to be a futuristic diver's helmet and placed it over his head, clamped it shut and dropped the visor. It wasn't air tight but did have a separate oxygen supply that kicked in automatically when the helmet cover clicked shut.
Everything was in order.
NSA Headquarters
Beckman's Operations Room
An analyst rushed in to the General's meeting, interrupting her and handing her a slip of paper. She glanced at it and her eyes widened. She looked up at the map and then down at the piece of paper. The coordinates were the same. The deep cover mole had initiated an extraction request for her and another agent. She was a medical doctor and was assigned to a Hive location in Central Mexico.
The room quieted when Beckman announced, "The mission timetable has been scrapped. All units are to be in position by 1800 hrs tonight. The Air Force will drop their package at 1900 hrs and the troop drop will commence at 1915 hours. We have two targets, a CIA deep cover agent and our Mr. Bartowski. Bring them both home alive. Move it, people!"
She called Casey and Walker who were onboard a military business jet en route to Laredo and advised them of the mission changes.
Aboard G3 Somewhere over Missouri
'There will be nothing between us this time. This time I'll tell you anything you want to know and I'll do it gladly. This time won't be like the last time. There'll be nothing between us but sweat. I'm coming, Chuck, hang on!'
Fulcrum Medical Facility
Winter, Nevada
1750 Hours
Jill spoke softly into a microphone that was connected to the helmet Chuck wore.
"Chuck. I love you. Remember that always. Remember…remember that I always loved you and that I never wanted to hurt you…remember that. Oh, and Chuck…we're pregnant!"
She fiddled with some last minute code entries before continuing.
"Chuck. I love you. Execute Icarus…I repeat, execute Icarus. She hit the 'enter key' and then left the room, turning out the lights and leaving her 'husband' and the father of their unborn child in his own private Hell.
She walked into the observation area to the muted applause of several of the Fulcrum leadership, including her 'sponsor'.
"Well done, Dr. Roberts. Our faith in you has not been misplaced. I see great things for you and Fulcrum in the future." He gestured towards to figure on the gurney. "What happens to your 'husband', Jill? A quick and very painful divorce, I hope!" he said quietly. He'd been without her special talents too many nights to be at all merciful to the CIA asset.
"When he's finished, a cleanup squad will take him into Nuevo Laredo and dump him off at the police station with a note saying the 'ransom was paid'. They'll contact someone on the US side and they'll take him home. A few days to reacclimate and he'll be back in harness. Given the right triggers, he'll turn into a killing machine starting with his team and ending with Beckman and Graham." They left the room and headed for the airstrip. The facility would be abandoned to the Cartel.
Lackland AFB
San Antonio, Texas
1800 hours
The strike team leader was an Air Commando colonel who would lead the ground forces who were tasked with surrounding the complex that the National Reconnaissance Office had provided satellite imagery of to the teams.
"We land 15 minutes after the Fizzle and take up positions on the roads into and out of the village. The Cartel is located in these villages," he pointed to built-up areas on the big board with a laser pointer, "about 5 klicks away. Anyone attempting to enter the village is to be detained. Anyone attempting to escape is to be identified and detained. Deadly force is authorized. Our spooks will be running the show inside the village compound. They all were UV-flashers and distinctive headgear. The challenge is 'Harbor' and the response is 'Cold'."
Fulcrum Medical Center
Winter, Nevada
It would all be over in eight hours or less. It couldn't be hurried. Every bit of information had to be tested, validated and then compiled into its proper position in the main download. It had taken quite a while to download and it would take as long or longer to 'unload' into Chuck's brain.
The main difference was that uploading was done with the survival of the recipient in mind. Jill's program cared only for the data and if the wrong information was extracted, say…a birthday memory or some piece of trivial data, it was tested and discarded.
Her programs were downloading all the files that comprised the Intersect into a special storage unit she'd designed. Chuck was her ticket to the upper ranks of Fulcrum and she'd spent him like loose change. When the download was completed the program would signal the cleanup crew and they'd handle sending him back to his doomed team. A few seconds later the entire file would be transmitted to a secure location and Fulcrum would have a copy of the Intersect!
Lackland AFB
San Antonio, TX
Walker watched as Casey listened to the briefing. He would have had a command of his own if he'd stayed active. He envied the Colonel his role and his place in things. Everything clean and clear-cut. No gray, no shadows.
"Makes you wonder sometimes if the choices we've made were the right ones, doesn't it, Major?"
"Yeah, Walker, but not now. We have a man to extract and get back home. Ellie's going to be over the moon with 'EllieJoy'. Hope Chuck's up to it."
"Carina said he had 'scars' on his face and head. From the extraction or something else?"
"We'll know in a few hours, Walker. All our questions will be answered in two hours."
Central Mexico
1900 hours
The Air Force B1 bomber approached the Fulcrum village complex from the north and abruptly climbed from its mission altitude of 100 feet to 6,000 feet and released a 'special munitions' package using a 'loft' technique that allowed the package to continue to gain altitude. The bomber dove back down to 100 feet and headed home to Missouri at max speed, undetected.
A parachute opened at 22,000 feet and the special package detonated at 1,000 feet just 250 feet from the optimum. Not that it mattered. The 'Fizzle' was an EMP device that fried everything electronic within 5 miles. No lights. No cars. No computers. No generators. Welcome to Bedrock, boys and girls.
Fulcrum Medical Facility
Winter, Nevada
The lights died, the computers died, everything electrical ceased to operate. The deep cover mole made her way to the 'treatment room' and into the special area set aside for intersect operations. Two members of the cleanup team lounged around waiting for their duties to commence and were standing beneath an emergency lamp smoking, not caring at all about recent events.
"That's definitely bad for your health, agents." The doctor smirked as she shot both of them with a silenced pistol and opened the door to where the intersect host was being reprogrammed.
Winter, Nevada
Restricted residential apartments
"Walker, this is Casey. I'm at grid 4333, 2nd floor apartment. You have to see this to believe it."
"On my way." She gathered her squad and piled into the hummer and gave the driver the coordinates. It only took a few minutes to make her way up to the 2nd floor and into the apartment clearly labeled 'C & J Bartowski'.
"Partner, check this out." He stepped aside and she got the full treatment of the wedding pictures, the photographs of her and Bryce and Chuck and a woman she didn't recognize in Ellie's apartment in Burbank, pictures of Casey…
"You made rank fast in this organization, Casey. Full bird." She picked up the photograph of Chuck, Casey and the woman…a wedding portrait. She handed it to one of the cleaner teams who was emptying out the apartment for transport. She wiped tears from her eyes and then hardened her heart for what was probably next: his body.
Casey pressed against his earbud and said, "Say again? You have who and she says she's a CIA agent? Wait, repeat that? On our way."
He pulled Walker by the shoulder and turned her toward the door. "The deep cover CIA agent has found Bartowski and is keeping him alive. I don't understand it but she says 'his wife drained his brain into a box'. Let's go."
APR