A/NHey all! Wow school is busy. I meant to update sooner, but between patho-phys and clinical skills I am swamped. On the plus side, they are teaching me things I can incorporate into future ouchies for our beloved characters :) It is my goal to get a new chapter up every month (or two) so if there are delays between posts, do not fear, this story shall not be abandoned! Thank you so much for the reviews, alerts, follows, and favorites. Special thanks go to phnxgrl, charahkids & garnetflint for their kind words. And without further ado, on with the story!
Recap: With Chuck no longer focusing on Sarah, he was able to notice his surroundings a little more. Suddenly his eyes made contact with an individual wearing all black by the steps of the stage.
Chuck flashed. A syringe. An alarm clock. A chicken. A sprinkler. A bar of soap.
"Holy crap, it's Jenn," he whispered, in shock. She sent a bone-chilling grin at him. Suddenly, the lights went out and the room was pitch black. Chuck distantly heard someone screaming his name, but all he could think about were the lyrics he had just heard Jeffster sing, "Help me get to the bottom of this, I've listened to all your excuses, it's the truth I miss."
"What is the truth?" Chuck thought to himself as pain erupted in the back of his skull. Then it all went black.
Sarah was drying her hands when the lights went out. She heard screams come from the other room, and she instantly turned into spy mode. She pulled her gun out of her boots and slowly re-entered the room, holding it down low enough that the security couldn't see it.
It was pandemonium when she entered the room. People were running towards the doors, the walls, and into each other. Someone needed to calm the audience down and turn the lights back on before someone got hurt.
Sarah couldn't see the front of the crowd where her friends had been. She had a flashlight on the tip of her gun, but it was dark enough in the room that if she turned it on she would become an instant target. Slowly, she started towards stage, hoping her gut instinct that this was targeted towards her friends was wrong.
She winced as she felt someone run into her shoulder, jarring her recent injury's scar tissue. As she turned the other direction, she saw a faint light from a corner, almost as though a door had been opened and shut. She would have missed it in the chaos had she not been bumped.
Quickly, but cautiously, she made her way to where the light had been. She was right, there was a door there. After trying to listen through the door, hearing nothing because of the panicked crowd, she decided to rush in and see who was smart enough to find a door in the dark.
"On the count of three," Sarah thought to herself. "One, two,.." and on three she burst the door open wide. A white van was seen speeding away, much like the van she had almost been pushed into the night at the Chinese restaurant.
Looking around, Sarah saw a motor bike. Deciding that Chuck and the rest of her friends had been trained to take care of themselves, she ran to the bike. Years of working with her dad kicked in and she had the bike hot-wired in seconds.
Jumping on the bike and giving one last look to the concert, she drove off, hoping that Chuck was safe inside the building and not in that van.
Minutes after Sarah sped away, the lights flew on in the concert hall. Devon and Morgan were holding each other in a tight bear hug. Casey was the only one to witness their awkward position, and made it known with a growl that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.
The boys quickly released each other, mumbling excuses. Casey rolled his eyes, smirking, and scanned the crowd for the rest of their group.
Lester was on stage, apparently in shock, but Jeff was still playing and singing along. Casey wasn't even sure if he had noticed the lights go out.
"Do you morons see my daughter, Chuck, or Sarah?" he murmured, panic building in his chest. The three scanned the rest of the room. For the most part, the crowd was less panicked and were seen in groups, talking amongst themselves to figure out how the lights had gone out.
"Maybe they're in the bathroom?" Morgan suggested.
Casey grunted his approval. "Right, let's split up and look for them. Meet back here when you find everyone."
Casey headed towards the restrooms and Devon headed towards the bar. Morgan looked up at the stage and saw Lester was still frozen. Deciding his friend needed him, he headed up the stairs.
"Lester, hey buddy, are you okay?" Morgan asked. There wasn't a response. Morgan tapped him on the shoulder. "Are you in there?" he tried again.
This time Lester spun around to look at him. "I'm ruined," he stated, dramatically. "That was our only chance at getting a gig for our band. They'll never take us now, since we made the power go out."
Morgan didn't know what to say when he saw tears glistening in Lester's eyes. He turned to comfort Jeff but then thought better of it when he saw him stick his drum-stick up his nose.
He was saved from replying to Lester when the head spokesman came up on stage. He shouted, very loudly, "Due to the power-outage, we will have to postpone the audition. The temporary black-out shorted the speakers and we don't have any sound. I apologize for any inconvenience." He looked at Jeffster and added, "Please give your applause to Jeffster." What was left of the crowd clapped their hands.
"Did you hear that Morgan?" Lester stated in awe. "They clapped for us!"
Morgan patted his friend on the back. "You did good, buddy." Looking at Jeff, he pulled Lester over to the drums and motioned for him to assist their other friend up. Taking the drum stick out of Jeff's nose, the two assisted him to stand and managed to get down the stairs.
"We're going to celebrate our successful evening," Lester proudly announced. "Do you want to join us?"
Morgan shook his head. "Thanks, but I'm going to look for Alex and probably go home." As an afterthought he added, "You did great tonight! I'm proud of you guys."
Jeffster, as one, beamed and started towards the backstage area to gather their belongings. Morgan, seeing he was the only one still standing, decided to help look for his three missing friends.
An hour after the crowds had left, Casey, Devon, and Morgan couldn't find anyone. Security hadn't seen anyone with that description, and they were getting impatient to close down the building for repairs. After calling repeatedly and having all their messages go straight to voicemail, the three decided they should check to make sure the missing people hadn't gone home in the panic.
It only added to their mounting dread when they discovered the missing persons' cars were not home.
"I'm going to call Parker," Casey stated at the door. Devon and Morgan nodded their heads, thinking they would check the house anyway. Neither one wanted to admit they were scared they wouldn't be able to find their friends.
After thoroughly investigating the house and deciding no one was there, they dejectedly sat on the couch in the living room. They looked up expectantly when Casey re-entered.
"Parker didn't answer his phone, either," Casey said, shaking his head. "I'm going to make another call."
"To Beckman?" Davon tentatively asked.
Casey gave him a shrewd look. "How do you know the General?"
"Uhh, Chuck told me," he stated, sheepishly.
"I don't even want to know why that idiot would breech security like that," Casey huffed. He nodded his head in Morgan's direction, "Does he know too?"
"Know what?" Morgan asked.
Casey didn't respond and headed back to his house. "Wait," Devon called. You have to include me on this too. You can't find them by yourself." Casey gave him a glance and nodded his head for him to follow.
"Me too!" Morgan declared, standing up to follow, but Casey harshly rebuked with a resounding, "No."
Morgan sat back down as the two left the house. "Over-protective, grumpy Dad," Morgan mumbled to himself.
After keying himself and Devon in, Casey walked towards his TV. He pressed a few buttons on his remote and sat down, motioning for Devon to do likewise. It wasn't too long before the General's head appeared on the screen.
"What's the emergency, Colonel?" Beckman asked, her hair more disheveled than usual.
"Alex, Chuck, and Sarah are missing. Agent Parker has also not shown up for work in several days, though I am unsure if he has anything to do with their disappearance or not," Casey bluntly stated. "We went to the Jeffster concert together but were unable to find them after the electricity mysteriously went out."
The General's eyebrows shot up. "Are you sure they're missing?"
"Yes," Devon replied. "It's been close to two hours, and none of them are answering their phones. If it were just Chuck and Sarah I wouldn't be too concerned, but Alex missing makes me think it might be something else."
The General gave Devon a calculating glance, as though daring him to answer why he was there. Devon stared right back at her, causing her to look away. It appeared he was accepted on the mission.
General Beckman took a deep breath, releasing it as a loud sigh. "Before I send you two to look for your friends and family, I have a few secrets I've been keeping. What I am about to reveal is not to be said to anyone else," she looked sharply at Devon, "and is extremely confidential. I only tell you because I believe it is pertinent to their disappearance."
"First, what do either of you know about the rogue group SPI?" Both Casey and Devon gave her blank stares. "The SPI agency was created, from what I can gather, as a direct defiance against the government's intersect program. It consists of those who were either unable to or were chosen not to become the intersect."
At Devon's confused glance, she said, "The Intersect is what your brother-in-law is, Devon. In essence, he has a computer in his brain. Alex, too, has a form of memory enhancement in the form of a photographic memory."
Devon nodded his head on auto-pilot, unsure how he should respond. Seeing he was taking the news well, the General continued, "Do either of you know what a lobotomy is?"
Casey looked confused, but Devon supplied, "You mean the neurosurgical procedure they used as a form of psychiatric treatment?" The General nodded her head, yes. Devon continued, "It's sad, over 20,000 operations were performed in the US from the 1940-50s, with most of the patients becoming severely mentally retarded after the operation*."
Beckman continued, "SPI used a form of lobotomy on its agents. Instead of having the intersect, the scientist cut away part of the amygdala, the fear conditioning portion of the brain. By doing this, the agency was able to create workers who were unafraid of performing tasks, with no fear of repercussions. In essence, they created agents who could become the perfect army."
Casey's eyes widened. "Sarah's sister, Jenn, did she have a lobotomy?" The General nodded her head yes.
"Yes, Jenn has a severed amygdala. As does her partner, Agent Shaw. The two spear-head the SPI program and are desperate to get their hands on the intersect. We believe they have the capabilities to recreate the system. If they were successful…"
"We would have an undefeatable army on our hands," Casey continued for her. "How many agents do they have, General?"
"At this point, we do not know. There are at least 25 agents who were turned down for the intersect program, but we are unsure if they joined Jenn and Shaw."
A rattling noise came from the back of the room as one of the windows broke through with a loud crash. Beckman, Casey, and Devon turned around quickly to see who the intruder was, Casey reaching for his knife in case it was a SPI agent.
Picking himself up off the ground and shaking off the glass, Morgan angrily stated, "When did it become ethical for the US government to tamper with their citizen's brains? Isn't that illegal?"
The General fixed Morgan with a hard stare. "How much of that did you overhear Mr. Grimes?"
"Enough to know that what you guys are involved in is illegal," Morgan huffed, wincing as his hand came across a piece of glass.
"Did you just break through that window?" Devon asked, astounded.
"Erm, no, I kind of fell into it while I was sitting on the ledge. I may have been leaning too heavily though…" Morgan started.
Devon interrupted, "Let me look you over, it looks like you have some glass in your skin."
Morgan huffily agreed, still unhappy that he had been left out of the big secret.
As Devon found a pair of tweezers and a washrag from Casey's bathroom to clean Morgan up with, Casey asked, "Where does Agent Parker fit into this?"
"Aaron is my son," Beckman stated, quietly. Casey and Devon exchanged glances as Morgan hissed when a piece of glass was removed.
"Unfortunately, if Sarah was indeed taken with the others, she may be in more trouble than previously realized. My step-daughter, Eve, was Shaw's first wife. Under orders, Sarah shot Eve. Both Aaron and Shaw were devastated. It wasn't until Jenn told them that it was Sarah who had murdered their family that they bonded. I..," she broke off, controlling a sob.
Quickly recomposing herself, she continued, "I tried to reason with Aaron. I am not sure if he joined SPI, but if you see him, do not think he is necessarily with the CIA anymore."
The three nodded their heads in agreement. "Mr. Grimes and Dr. Woodcomb, I do hope you know that this information cannot be repeated. It cannot be made into a comic book or video game," she glared at Morgan, "and your friends and family are not privileged to this information, and please, do consider that the government can lock you away if they believe you to be a national threat."
"I won't tell anyone," Morgan grumbled, wincing as Devon cleaned his remaining cuts.
"Your awesome secret is safe with me," Devon agreed. "And, you should be okay, Morgan," Devon said, admiring his work. "You only had a few shallow pieces pierce your skin, nothing needs stitches."
"How do we begin to locate them, General?" Casey asked, returning to the task at hand.
"I would start in the Castle and see if Aaron left any trails. Otherwise, try to track their cell signals. If nothing else, start going through the data base and see what you can find about SPI. They will have left clues somewhere," she replied.
"Let's get to it!" Morgan said, jumping up but then sitting again quickly as he felt the lump on his side from the fall.
"Easy there, buddy," Devon said. "You might be sore for a few days." Morgan responded with a head nod, admiring the feeling of pain in his body. One usually didn't come across such injuries when their life was spent on video-games.
"Thank you, General," Casey said. Beckman gave a slight nod of her head and signed off.
Elsewhere, Sarah was dismounting her bike. She wasn't sure where she was, only that she had been following them for some time now.
Cautiously looking around, she decided that it was time to call for backup. Her adrenaline had been on high alert, and she had completely forgotten to check in with Casey to see if they were alright from the concert.
She stared at her phone in disbelief. There wasn't any reception out here. Sarah weighed her options- she could hop back on the bike and drive until she could find a signal, or she could leave her phone on in hopes that Casey could track her location and join her.
Sarah wasn't entirely sure what was inside the building, or really, if there was anything in there. She was following a gut instinct with that white van.
Having come to a conclusion, she slipped her phone back into her pocket. Sarah hoped that Casey would be smart enough to follow her to wherever she had landed.
Sarah stayed back, far from the building, inspecting it for cameras. As her trained eye roamed the perimeter, she saw several. "Damn," she whispered, as she realized how difficult it would be to get into the building.
Short of storming the front door, the building appeared to be solid concrete with no windows. Crouching low and staying near the shrubs far from the building, she pondered how she could get in.
Chuck's head was pounding as he slowly became conscious. He was aware of someone shaking his arm and whispering his name, but it was hard to focus on anything but the dark at the base of his skull.
"Chuck, come on, I know you can wake up," a girl's voice pleaded with him. Chuck tried to open his eyes again, but gritted them together again quickly. The light was too bright.
"The light," he croaked.
"I'm sorry, but I don't know how to turn it down. Please, I really need your help so try to focus on me, okay?" the voice continued.
Groaning, Chuck slowly opened his eyes, forcing them to stay open this time. Taking in his surroundings, he found that he was in a very square room. There were two doors, one leading to what looked like a tiny bathroom and the other appeared to lead to the outside, no windows, but the room was furnished. There was a black leather sofa and chair, table and 3 chairs, microwave, and mini-refrigerator.
Looking down, Chuck realized he was on a twin-sized bed. Alex was sitting on the mattress next to him, holding what looked like a bloody towel in her hand.
"What happened?" Chuck asked, clearly disoriented.
"I was hoping you could tell me," Alex said, despondently. "One minute I was at the concert, drinking the beer some lady gave me, the next I wake up here."
"My head really hurts," Chuck moaned. Trying to sit up, he collapsed back onto the bed. Reaching a hand to the back of his head, he pulled it back again quickly, resolving not to touch it again as it seared pain through his skull with the slight touch.
Alex winced. "Yea, you hit your head somehow. You have a pretty big gash on the back." She held up the towel she had been sopping his blood with. "I've been trying to wake you for awhile now. You're not supposed to fall asleep with a concussion."
"That's why everything you say sounds like Darth Vader breathing in my ear," Chuck mumbled.
Alex, having heard what he said, looked at him concerned. Hoping to keep her from asking what he meant by that, Chuck asked, "So are we locked in here?"
She nodded. "Yea, I already checked the door. Whoever brought us here obviously wants us comfortable. The fridge has food and drinks in it, including some beer."
Suddenly, something clicked in his concussed head. "Alex, why didn't you drink the beer Morgan bought you?"
Alex shrugged. "Some obnoxious lady knocked it out of my hand. She gave me a new one, though, so it was okay. I just don't get where we are."
Chuck paled visibly. "Do you have a headache, too?" he asked.
"Umm yea, I guess you could call it that. More like disoriented than a headache, though." She tilted her head to think, realization flooding her too. "Were we drugged?" she asked, hesitantly.
Chuck tried to nod his head, wincing in pain at the movement. "I think so. I don't know why someone would go through that much effort get us here." He looked around, seeing a camera in the corner. "Hello?" he talked towards it. "Why are we here?"
A voice startled the two. "I can tell you that," a man stated as he walked out of the bathroom, nervously pushing his glasses up onto his face.
"Dad?" Chuck asked.
A/N *If any of you are interested in medical history, check out the book My Lobotomy by Howard Dull. While the lobotomy used in this story has never been done, I like to think that since SPI has access to the most advanced technology, something like this would be possible.
Thoughts? Let me know if there's something you'd like to see thrown in- my writing style is pretty flexible :)