See, I didn't lie. It didn't take a month for an update this time.

Poa is still off grid, so you're stuck with my poor typing and grammar.

So without further ado, we continue with…

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 5

How to Win Friends and Influence People

Ari Schwartz fought his way back to consciousness. This wasn't the first time he had been knocked unconscious. In fact, he had lost count of the number of times he had been beaten, bruised and battered into unconsciousness. As such things went this one wasn't quite so bad. It felt like he was lying on something fairly soft and he wasn't freezing or boiling. As he blinked his eyes to try and shake off the fog that enveloped his brain like cotton, he thought he heard his name. Not his cover name, but his real name.

He groaned a little. It never hurt to let your captors think you were in more distress than you actually were. His mouth was dry and pasty and he smacked his lips. "Here," a soft voice said and a hand gently cupped the back of his head to gently raised him up and put a cup to his lips. He blinked and shook his head. No telling what they were giving him.

"It's all right, Ari, it's water," the voice said, pressing the cup again to his lips. He mentally shrugged. If they were going to kill him or drug him, they could have done it easily while he was out. He took a sip. It was cold and refreshing, so he struggled up a little to drink greedily. The cup was pulled away. "Not too much all at once," the soft voice said.

Ari blinked again and his vision started to clear. He saw the hazy outline of a woman with blonde hair hovering over him. "Rachel?" he mumbled. "Rachel?"

"No, it's not Rachel," the voice said. "Ari, it's me. Rebecca. Rebecca Meyerson."

"Becca?" he asked, blinking. Slowly, the hazy face resolved into a very lovely young woman with blonde hair. He knew her. Rebecca 'Becca' Meyerson. Of course that was not her real name. That was the name she used while on an exchange with the Mossad training academy. He had never known her real name.

Ari struggled to sit up and his head started pounding. Rebecca put a hand on his chest and pressed him back down. "Here," she said, putting two tablets in his hand. "It's all right. It's aspirin."

Ari popped the tablets in his mouth and accepted more water from Rebecca. "My son Yitzhak is going to be disappointed that it was I who I saw you instead of him. He had a huge crush on you, you know."

Rebecca smiled. "I know. I tried to let him down easy. He was a little young for me."

"And I was too old," Ari said.

"No," Rebecca said. "If you would have tried anything, Rachel would have recircumcised you a little further up this time."

Ari laughed and again struggled up. His head throbbed but he was not about to show weakness in front of this little girl. He looked around at the glass wall behind her and the other cells lining a corridor. "Where am I?" he asked. "Where is Major Casey?"

"So you remember," Rebecca said. "You're still in Los Angeles, if that's what you're wondering. You are in a secure CIA facility."

"Am I a prisoner?" Ari asked.

"Let's say that for now you are a guest, until I can determine why one of Mossad's best agents and certainly their most competent demolitions expert is off grid and operating in L.A. without authorization."

"Becca. You know I can't tell you anything."

Rebecca shrugged. "Then you're going to have a long stay. I'll call Tel Aviv and tell them to dispatch a diplomatic team to escort you back to Israel. I imagine I can arrange transport in, oh, three or four days."

Ari smiled. "I always said that they should have kept you on as an instructor in interrogation," Ari said. He looked around. "What is to keep me from overpowering you and walking out of here?" he asked.

Rebecca stood and smiled down at him. "The fact that I was the best Krav Maga student at the Academy," she said. "And that even before Mossad trained me I could take down any two of your agents."

"Still modest, I see. But I am old and crafty."

"And the door is locked and you don't know the code."

Ari chuckled. "Checkmate. For now. I take it you are not going by Becca Meyerson these days?"

"Sarah Walker," Sarah a/k/a Rebecca said, holding out a hand. "Nice to meet you."

"David Cohen," Ari said, taking her hand. "Why are you wearing an apron that says 'Orange Orange'?"

"My cover," Sarah said. "I'm working at a yogurt shop."

"And Major John Casey, the NSA's top assassin, is working at a Buy More. I will never understand the American intelligence agencies. Please, sit. Do you have to hover over me like that?"

Sarah smiled and pulled up a chair. "So what brings you to L.A., Ari?"

"Please, David. Mossad worked very hard on that cover identity. I need to make the most of it."

"Fine, David, what brings you to L.A.?"

"The bombings at the area Buy Mores," Ari said. "Just as I told Major Casey. And just as I am sure my superiors informed your General Beckman."

"Mossad agents do not free lance… David. And you said Mossad provided your identity."

"Well, Mossad could not exactly have me traipsing around the U.S. as Ari Schwartz, Mossad Agent, could they?"

"You're avoiding the question, David."

"See," Ari said, wagging his finger at her. "A born interrogator. Since you are the good cop, I assume that Major Casey is the bad cop?" He rubbed the back of his head to emphasize his point.

Sarah shook her head. "Do you want me to be the bad cop?" she asked. "I can do that, too. Answers, Ari." She emphasized his name to show that she was tired of his dancing around the subject.

Ari shrugged. "I guess it cannot hurt to tell you. You might even be able to help. We received a report that the detonator used in the first bombing was a GB-43, manufactured by Goodville Burdette. The signature detonator of Red Jihad."

"So Mossad is worried that Red Jihad is behind these bombings," Sarah said. "Why would Red Jihad want to blow up a few Southern California electronics stores?"

Ari shrugged. "I was hoping you could tell me."

"Just because they used GB-43's, that's a pretty flimsy excuse for thinking that it was Red Jihad," Sarah said. "There's something else. Something you're not telling me."

Ari wagged his finger again. "A born interrogator, I tell you. You know, it reminds me of…"

"Ari," Sarah interrupted him. "What aren't you telling me?"

"You cannot blame an old man for trying to spend as long with a pretty girl as possible," Ari said.

"First, you're not an old man," Sarah said. "And second, you keep that up and I'll call Rachel."

"You wouldn't."

"I would."

Ari sighed. "You know, she would probably like to hear from you. It has been what? Three years?"

"Ari!" Sarah said sharply.

"Fine, fine," Ari said. "After Goodville Burdette went bankrupt, their inventory was purchased by Hancock Technologies. The entire run of GB-43's was destroyed."

"The ATF was checking into the remaining GB-43's," Sarah said. "But they didn't have anything yet."

"We already had the information," Ari said. "After Red Jihad started using the GB-43's as their signature detonator, we ran a worldwide trace and bought up and destroyed every one that we could find."

"Seems like a lot of trouble," Sarah said. "Didn't they just switch to another model detonator?"

"They seemed to have a particular penchant for the GB-43's. Besides, as it turned out they did not have to," Ari said. "Red Jihad stole a shipment of one hundred forty-four detonators. One hundred and two were used in terrorist attacks in Israel, Lebanon, Greece and Germany, leaving forty-two unaccounted for when Abdul Al Fayed, the head of the Palestinian wing of Red Jihad, was captured and jailed."

"So someone else got a hold of their remaining stockpile," Sarah said.

"Maybe," Ari responded. "But it seems like too much of a coincidence. You see, seven weeks ago, an Israeli patrol in Northern Israel along the border with Lebanon was attacked. Three men were killed and seven taken prisoner. Three weeks ago, Abdul Al Fayed was traded for those seven Israeli soldiers."

"I thought Israel didn't bargain with terrorists."

"One of the soldiers was the son of a Likud member. There was some pressure brought to effectuate the release."

"So you think that Abdul Al Fayed is blowing up California Buy Mores? That still doesn't make sense."

Ari shrugged. "That is why I am here. To see if I can determine if it is Al Fayed and, if it is, stop him."

"You mean kill him," Sarah said.

Ari spread his hands. "If it is him, I will stop him by any means necessary."

"Why didn't you come to us? Obtain clearance to operate in the U.S.?"

"Because the operation would have been turned over to the FBI or the ATF. I would have been frozen out or, at best, kept on as a 'consultant.' Becca, this man killed hundreds of innocent people. He never should have been let loose. We let him loose. We will stop him."

"Sarah," Sarah said. "Not Becca. You need to remember that." She stood. "I need to report this. I'm afraid you're going to be our 'guest' for a little longer."

"Would you at least call Rachel and tell her where I am?" Ari asked. "She tends to worry."

Sarah smiled. "And Rachel's first call would be to Meir Dagan to let him know where you are." She shook her head. "But I will have the CIA get word to Rachel that you are okay."

Ari shrugged. "Worth a shot," he said.

Sarah turned to the door and punched in the code to open the door. The panel scanned her retina and then opened the door. Ari noted that the only time her back was to him was to hide the code she punched into the keypad. And even then, her muscles were tensed just in case he decided to try to make a move. He shook his head. Too bad she hadn't accepted Mossad's offer to stay on as an agent.

Sarah walked to the communications terminal and contacted Beckman to update her on what Ari had said about the GB-43's, Red Jihad and Abdul Al Fayed. Beckman was not happy about having an unsanctioned Mossad operation on U.S. soil and told Sarah to hold Ari until she could get everything sorted out.

Sarah had just cut the connection when the door to Castle from the Orange Orange opened. The first thing she saw was a pair of Converse All Stars and she broke into an involuntary smile. Of course Chuck couldn't stay away.

Chuck trotted down the stairs holding three brown paper bags in one hand and a tray of drinks in the other. He broke into a grin when he saw Sarah. "Beware Geeks bearing gifts," he said.

"I thought you were a nerd?" Sarah asked. "Isn't that what you told me that first day when we met?"

Chuck gave a relaxed sigh and Sarah could see that he was remembering the day they met when she walked into the Buy More to 'get her phone fixed.'

"Well, the play on words doesn't work quite so well that way," he said. "Beware Nerds bearing gifts? Doesn't roll off the tongue or have quite the same panache."

"So what gifts is the nerd bringing?"

Chuck set his bags and tray of drinks down on the table. "Well, I figured if Ari was Mossad, he'd probably want kosher, so I sent Skip over to Lou's to get us dinner."

"So what did you get me?" Sarah said, unable to keep the smile on her face from growing.

"Turkey and Muenster cheese on egg bread, grilled," Chuck said.

Sarah laughed. "You got me a Chuck?"

"Well, to be honest, she doesn't call it that anymore," Chuck said. "Not since… anyway, I didn't think you'd ever had one and it's really good."

Sarah leaned over and kissed Chuck on the cheek. "Thank you, Chuck. This was very thoughtful."

Chuck blushed and tried hard not to grin, but failed miserably. "Shall I take Ari his sandwich?" Chuck asked.

Sarah shook her head. "Nice try, Chuck, but you're supposed to stay away from Ari."

"Come on, Sarah, I've never met a real Mossad agent," Chuck said.

Sarah gave him an enigmatic smile. "Yes you have."

"I have? What… Where… Who…"

Sarah just smiled and said, "Wait here." She took the bag and a drink and went back to the cell to give it to Ari. She returned a few moments later.

"He says 'thank you.'" Sarah said. "He said we run the nicest jail he's ever been in. With the best food."

"Do you think he's been in many jails?" Chuck rambled. "I mean, he's a Mossad agent. And what did you mean by 'yes you have.' I…"

Sarah laid a finger over Chuck's lips and he sputtered to a halt. "Why this fascination with Ari?" Sarah asked.

"Well, Mossad just seems really cool," Chuck said. "I mean, other than MI-6, which everybody knows thanks to James Bond, they're probably the most respected intelligence service in the world. Ever since I saw Spielberg's movie 'Munich' I have been kind of intrigued by them. They're the best of the best."

"Much better than the CIA," Sarah deadpanned.

"Yeah," Chuck said. "Did you know that…" He suddenly realized what he had just said and skidded to a verbal stop. "I mean…"

Sarah took a bite of her sandwich and cocked her head a little to the side and smiled as she chewed.

"I think I'll stop talking now," Chuck said.

Sarah swallowed and said, "That's probably best." Her grin told him she wasn't really offended.

They ate in contented silence, Chuck stealing the occasional besotted glance at Sarah and Sarah glancing over at Chuck and smiling. Sarah sighed contentedly as she finished her sandwich. The Bartowski magic really was remarkable. She had never been around anyone who could make her so comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time. Comfortable because they had settled into that relaxed compatibility where they were happy to simply be in each other's presence. Uncomfortable because of the undeniable attraction they each felt for the other, but which they were not allowed to act upon.

"Penny for your thoughts," Chuck said and Sarah realized she had been gazing off into the distance with a slight smile on her face.

Sarah blinked and looked at Chuck. "Oh, I was just thinking about what Casey's going to say when he finds out that Mossad is way cooler than the NSA."

Chuck's eyes went wide. "You… You wouldn't."

Sarah's smile slowly morphed into a smirk. "Well, that depends, Mr. Bartowski, on what it's worth to you."

"Blackmail, Agent Walker?" Chuck said. "Frankly, I thought you were above that sort of thing."

"Beneath me?" Sarah replied. "Why, it's a major tool of the trade."

Chuck sighed in mock resignation. "So what'll it cost me this time? Letting you pick the movie for Ellie's next movie night? Sweeping out the Orange Orange freezer?"

Sarah shook her head. Something most people did not know about Charles Bartowski was that he had incredibly strong fingers. Maybe it was a consequence of all that time manipulating video game controllers. In any event, Sarah had accidently discovered the strength of those fingers after her first back rub from Chuck. The man, it turned out, was a master. His strong hands with their long fingers could manipulate her tired muscles better than anything short of a professional masseur, and he might even beat the masseur.

Sarah gave an exaggerated roll of her shoulders. "I've been feeling a little tight lately," she said.

Chuck grinned and stepped around behind her. He stood so close Sarah could feel the warmth of his body. He gently gathered up her hair and laid it over her shoulder. Then he laid his hands on her shoulders and gave a gentle squeeze. Sarah sighed and Chuck began to work his thumbs into the knotted muscles in her shoulders. Sarah closed her eyes and took in a deep breath and then slowly let it out. God but he was good. She felt the tension slowly easing away as Chuck slowly worked his thumbs along either side of her spine. She gave a little contended groan and Chuck responded by deepening the massage.

Sarah sighed again. She knew she shouldn't be doing this. In many ways, this was the most dangerous thing she had done in weeks. Chuck's presence was intoxicating and his touch seemed to burn into her. As he began to work the muscles in the back of her neck, Sarah leaned back until she was leaning against him. It was such exquisite torture.

Chuck was in heaven. Chuck had given plenty of back rubs. Back when she was in med school, before she met Captain Awesome, Chuck used to give Ellie back rubs to help ease away the tension of class and studying. Jill had loved his back rubs and he had progressed with her to giving full body massages. But nothing compared to giving Sarah a massage.

The first time was at his apartment. Sarah had casually complained about a crick in her neck and Ellie had gushed about Chuck's wonderful back rubs. Sarah had been reluctant, but Ellie had insisted and it would have looked funny if a 'boyfriend' didn't give his 'girlfriend' a back rub. So he had. For days afterwards Morgan would catch him staring off into space and grinning as he contemplated the feel of her soft skin beneath his fingers and the way her stray wisps of blonde hair would tickle his knuckles.

After that, he kept a careful watch for a roll of her shoulders or a stretch of her neck indicating that she was sore or tense and he would come up behind her and gently lay his hands upon her shoulders, waiting for her to give him a slight nod indicating that he should continue. He was always careful to keep it strictly a massage. His hands never strayed too low or too far forward, although it took tremendous effort to keep from caressing her slender waist or sliding a hand ever so slightly forward to feel the swell of her breast. But he knew that as long as he kept it strictly platonic, she would allow him to continue. It was the most exquisite torture in the world.

The door from the Orange Orange banged open and Chuck jumped back. Sarah leapt to her feet and started to grab the bags and napkins from their impromptu dinner while Chuck scrambled to the other side of the table.

Casey leaned over the railing and looked down. "You mean you got dinner from Lou's Deli and you didn't get me any?"