Lucky number 13. You know, when I started this fic, I was figuring on about 8-10 chapters. Oh well. "The best laid plans of mice and men…"

Thanks again to Poa for editing my sloppy writing. And thanks to MySoapBox for letting me bounce a couple ideas off of her and for making a couple suggestions regarding Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More.

So are you ready for…

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 13

… He Can't Refuse

"First things first," Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small device about the size of a Dictaphone. He hit a button on top and suddenly Chuck's earwig exploded in a burst of static and painful feedback.

Chuck winced and pulled the earwig from his ear.

In a black van in the parking lot adjoining the Buy More corporate offices, Sarah and Casey simultaneously yanked off their headphones as feedback yowled painfully in their ears. "What was that?" Sarah asked.

Casey began to furiously stab at buttons, checking the equipment. "Equipment checks out," he said. "We're being jammed on Chuck's end." He pulled out his pistol and pulled the slide back.

Sarah laid a hand on his arm. "Casey, wait. We don't know what's happening. If we go in guns blazing, we'll blow Chuck's cover. Let me see if I can tap into their security feed first."

Casey gave an unsatisfied grunt. It had been awhile since he got to go in, guns blazing, and he was getting a little hungry.

In the office above, Moses Finkelstein (etc.)* smiled a predatory smile at Chuck and said, "So, Mr. Bartowski, how long have you been a spy?"

"I, um, I'm not sure what you're talking about, sir," Chuck stammered. "I, ah, is this some sort of test or something?"

Mr. Finkelstein shook his head sadly. "Please, Mr. Bartowski. I don't think that earwigs are standard issue for my Nerd Herders."

Chuck glanced down at the earwig sitting on the coffee table. "Um, hearing aid?" he said. "A little too much rock and roll, if you know what I mean. I, ah, stood a little too close to the speakers at a Tyler Martin concert…"

"Please, Mr. Bartowski… Charles. Can I call you Charles?"

Chuck glanced nervously back down at the earwig, and then back up at Mr. Finkelstein. "Charles is fine… Or Chuck… They usually call me 'Chuck'."

"Chuck, then," Mr. Finkelstein said, reaching down to pick up the earwig. He turned it over in his fingers. "GIG-12. CIA issue, if I am not mistaken."

"I'm not sure I follow you," Chuck said.

Mr. Finkelstein tossed the earwig back onto the coffee table where it bounced twice before coming to a stop at the far end. "Did the CIA recruit you before or after you started working at my store?"

"Sir, please. I'm just the supervisor of a Nerd Herd…"

Mr. Finkelstein said nothing, instead reaching down to pick up a large, multi-function remote that almost made Chuck drool with envy. He turned toward the wall of six large plasma TVs and hit some buttons on the remote. On each of the six, sixty-inch screens, the same image appeared: the amateur video of Chuck running into the burning Buy More.

Chuck winced and glanced down at his bandaged hands. Fortunately, Mr. Finkelstein and his assistant, Amelia, were looking at the screens. "Quite a brave thing," Mr. Finkelstein said, "running into a burning building like that." He paused the video and turned back to Chuck.

"I wanted to thank the FBI agents personally for their heroism. Imagine my surprise when I called the FBI office and they told me that they didn't have any agents in North Hollywood that day."

"Imagine that," Chuck said.

"Fortunately, Competition Securities had already set up the security cameras in the North Hollywood store to transmit their surveillance video to our local server. Some of the cameras were damaged, but because the blast was in the back of the store, the servers at the store survived the initial blast, as did some of the cameras."

Mr. Finkelstein turned around and hit another button on the remote. On the screens, a new series of images replaced the amateur video. It had the slightly grainy, black and white, jerky motion of a security camera. The first frame was of a parking lot. It was slightly obscured by smoke and one could just make out debris littering the ground. In the next frame, a figure appeared running toward the camera. The next few frames showed the figure getting closer.

When the figure was near the bottom of the frame and thus closest to the camera, Mr. Finkelstein paused the video.

"This is the FBI agent that ran into the building," Mr. Finkelstein said, turning back to Chuck. "Does he look familiar?"

Chuck was staring at the screen. He licked his lips and slowly shook his head. Then he blinked and turned to Mr. Finkelstein. "No. No, I don't recognize him. Should I?"

Moses Finkelstein (etc.) smiled. "I would hope so. I had one of my technicians enhance the image." Still watching Chuck, he pointed the remote toward the video wall and hit a button. Chuck's face, his expression frozen in shock and determination, filled the screen.

Sarah slammed a hand against the arm of her chair. "Dammit, I can't get in!" she complained. "It's one of the best security setups I've ever seen. They've got firewalls protecting their firewalls."

Casey stood, stuffed his pistol in the back of his pants and grabbed a pistol-grip shotgun and a bandolier with extra shells. "So I guess we do this the old fashioned way."

Sarah gave him an exasperated look. "Casey, the place is like Fort Knox. We wouldn't get past the lobby. We need some other way in. Have you got your Buy More uniform?"

Casey nodded. "Why?"

"I've got an idea."

Chuck took a deep breath and willed his heart to stop pounding so hard. Surely Mr. Finkelstein could hear the rapid 'thump, thump, thump' that seemed to drown out every other sound in the room. Chuck forced himself to look away from the screen and tried to plaster a pleasant smile on his face. "Imagine that," he said.

Instead of replying, Mr. Finkelstein hit another button on the remote. A new series of images appeared – these obviously from a camera inside the store. The image was skewed at a crazy angle, the camera no doubt having been knocked loose by the blast. A figure with dark, curly hair entered the frame. Even without enhancement, it was clearly Chuck Bartowski. The look of shock was gone, but the look of determination was even more evident. The next couple frames showed swirling smoke and debris, and then John Casey appeared and disappeared from the frame.

"Your partner," Mr. Finkelstein said. It was not a question. He let the video continue to run until Chuck staggered into the frame with Sarah in his arms, then out of the frame. Moments later, Casey appeared in the frame with Ari slung over his shoulder. Mr. Finkelstein hit a button and Chuck's face from the first camera reappeared on the screen. He set down the remote and turned back to Chuck.

"I am grateful," Mr. Finkelstein said. "You and your team saved a number of my employees, as well as David Cohen, my security consultant." He nodded down at Chuck's hands. "And you were injured in the process, apparently. Burns?"

Chuck nodded. He started to say something but Mr. Finkelstein held up a hand.

"You are, of course, not FBI, are you? There would be no reason for the FBI to deny that they had agents there when you were acting so openly."

"No," Chuck agreed. "I'm not with the FBI."

"You are a rare man, Chuck. I wonder if you even understand how rare. There are very few men who would have run into that building. Fewer still who could keep their wits about them and complete the mission."

Chuck couldn't help but swelling with pride just a little at Mr. Finkelstein's praise, but at the word 'mission' he was brought crashing back down. How much did Mr. Finkelstein know?

Mr. Finkelstein sensed his distress. "Don't worry. I don't intend to expose you or your team. I did, however, want to discuss a proposition with you."

Chuck glanced back up to the video wall and then over at the earwig. He desperately wished that Sarah could whisper in his ear, telling him what to do. But he was on his own. At least Moses Finkelstein (etc.) didn't seem to know about the Intersect or Sarah and Casey's real mission. There was only one thing to do – assume his standard fallback position.

"Carmichael," he said. "Special Agent Charles Carmichael, CIA. But you can call me Charles."

Mr. Finkelstein laughed. "No, Mr. Bartowski. Charles Carmichael may be your cover, but I know who you really are."

Chuck felt his stomach tighten.

Sarah, dressed in her provocative Nerd Herd uniform, and Casey, in his green shirt and khaki pants, entered the lobby of Buy More corporate headquarters. Every eye followed Sarah as she flounced toward the desk. "Hi. I'm Sarah Weaver, Buy More Nerd Herd, Beverly Hills branch. I was supposed to come down for some sort of training session today? This is my friend, John Casey. He works with me. He gave me a ride."

The guard at the desk checked his log. "There's a UNIX training session that started ten minutes ago, but I don't see any Sarah Weaver on the roster."

Sarah turned to Casey. "Ten minutes ago! We're late. I told you we shouldn't have taken the 505, but no! You said it would be faster. You said that we'd be here in plenty of time." She whacked Casey on the arm with each emphasized word.

"Mr. Barclay is going to fire me if I don't go to that training session," she wailed. "I'm going to have to go back to working at Hooters!" She was crying now, and Casey was awkwardly patting her back.

"So you know how degrading working at Hooters is?" she wailed at the guard. "All those men pinching your butt." She gave a shiver and then started crying again.

"Wait! Wait!" the guard said, pulling out two visitor badges. "I guess I can let you in. The training room is on the third floor, room 307. I'll need to see some…"

Sarah ran around the desk and gave the security guard a hug. "Oh, thank you," she said, kissing his cheek. "I don't know how I can ever… I mean it's just so nice… I mean…" She started crying again and Casey snatched the visitors badges and came around the counter to pry her off of the guard.

"Come on, Sarah. Let's get you up to the third floor." He hustled Sarah off to the elevator.

The security guard sat there, a little stunned, rubbing his cheek where Sarah had kissed it. He could think of several ways she could repay him. And since he had scanned her ID, he could… He looked down. Somehow in all the confusion he hadn't gotten their IDs. Oh well, he'd head on up to the training room once his partner got back and check her out.

Moses Finkelstein (etc.) held up a hand and Amelia Banks, his assistant/bodyguard, reached in her valise and pulled out a file which she placed in his hand. Mr. Finkelstein placed the file in his lap and opened it. "Charles Irving Bartowski. Born: September 24, 1980, Sherman Oaks, California. Son of Stephen Bartowski, engineer. One sister, Eleanor Faye Bartowski, Doctor, Westside Medical Center.

"Let's see. Graduated salutatorian from Johnny Mueller High School, Tarzana, California. You really were robbed, you know. They never should have given Deborah Whitfield the extra credit for that poetry slam. Attended Stanford University on an academic scholarship. Expelled for cheating his senior year when stolen exams were found hidden under his bed."

Chuck fidgeted in his chair. He glanced over at the doorway, hoping that Sarah and Casey would come bursting in any moment. Unfortunately, the door remained closed.

"Applied for and obtained a job at the Buy More in Burbank, California as a sales associate. After seven months, promoted to the Nerd Herd. Three years later, promoted to supervisor of the Nerd Herd. Applied for the position of Assistant Manager in 2007. Failed to show up at the interview, so the position was given to Harry Tiberias Tang. Tang then suddenly and mysteriously moved to Hawaii. Offered the position of Assistant Manager again. Turned it down. Curious."

He glanced up at Chuck who tried to meet his gaze with what he hoped was bored disinterest, but he suspected he was failing miserably. He glanced up at Amelia, who was staring straight ahead as if not listening to a word.

"And then, Stanford gave you a degree. Electrical Engineering…with honors. Odd for a man who was unceremoniously expelled."

"They discovered I was wrongly accused and allowed me to complete my degree through some online courses," Chuck replied.

"Please, Mr. Bartowski. I am being honest with you. Surely you can be honest with me. I know how the intelligence agencies operate. The CIA arranged for you to be falsely accused of cheating so that they could recruit you."

Chuck tried to maintain a passive, stoic silence. But he felt his stomach doing flip-flops.

"Then, when it suited them for you to obtain your degree, they smoothed over things with Stanford and obtained your degree for you. Unfortunately, that is undoubtedly because you have finished whatever your mission is here and they intend to move you out of your current cover as a Nerd Herd supervisor at my Burbank store. And frankly, you are probably the only person capable of holding that store together. So I must, as they say, strike while the iron is hot."

He glanced back down at Chuck's folder and shuffled through a few papers. "The CIA really did choose wisely in putting you in the Burbank store. Do you realize that if you had been in any other store you would have been promoted into upper management by now? Look at your record. Exemplary employee. The highest marks in each and every one of the technology training courses. Outstanding customer service comments. And the I.Q. test you took as part of your management application… Well, let's just say that you might be the only person in the company nearly as smart as I am."

Mr. Finkelstein handed the folder back to Amelia, who placed it back in her valise. He stood and walked over to stand in front of the video screens, on which Chuck's face was still frozen.

"It really was an incredibly brave thing you did, going into the store to rescue that woman. Who is she? One of your partners, I assume?"

Chuck looked at Mr. Finkelstein but didn't say anything. Where were Sarah and Casey? Surely once they lost the wire they would come barging in to save him.

Once on the elevator, Sarah quickly wiped the tears from her eyes and pulled a hand-held scanner from her bag. "It looks like he's on the top floor," she said. "He must be in Finkelstein's office."

"What do you supposed they're doing to him?" Casey asked. "Interrogation? Torture?"

Sarah shook her head. Leave it to Casey to always think the worst. "It could be nothing, Casey. Maybe Finkelstein is just fanatical about security. He is ex-Mossad, after all. The jammer could just be a standard precaution. That's why we have to be careful."

Casey grunted. He pulled his pistol from his waistband and checked the magazine again, chambered a round and held it down at his side. The elevator reached the top and the doors 'dinged' open. Sarah and Casey carefully peered out. The elevator opened onto an empty hallway. Sarah checked the scanner. "He's one more floor up. Finkelstein must use a separate elevator. We need to find a stairwell."

Chuck sat silently, waiting for Moses Finkelstein (etc.) to continue. Obviously he was going somewhere with all of this. He wasn't just outing a suspected CIA agent for the fun of it. At least Chuck didn't think so. Given the weird assortment of characters he had met the last two years, (not to mention the weird assortment of characters he worked with) anything was possible.

Mr. Finkelstein turned and looked at Chuck. "You know, I used to be a spy myself. Not CIA, of course. I was with Mossad. A damn good agent, too. Although I'm sure that Ari Schwartz has told you all about that."

Interesting, Chuck thought. Earlier, he had referred to Ari by his cover name, David Cohen. Now he was implicitly acknowledging Ari as an agent. Evidently Mr. Finkelstein was serious when he said that he was going to be honest with him.

Mr. Finkelstein walked over and stood in front of the windows, looking out, as if he was a million miles away, remembering that earlier life. The silence hung heavy in the room and Chuck stared at Mr. Finkelstein, wondering what was coming next.

"Here's the stairwell," Casey said, indicating a door at the end of the hallway. "It's locked." He pulled his gun and covered the hallway while Sarah pulled out a scanner and connected it to the electronic lock. She waited while the scanner ran through the possible permutations to find the proper code and then the door clicked open.

Casey grunted in satisfaction and pulled the door open. Sarah darted in and looked around, then ducked back around the corner. "Security camera, next landing. It's covering the stairs."

Casey nodded. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a device that looked like a small flashlight. He checked it, then nodded. Sarah yanked the door open and Casey flashed the device at the camera. An invisible beam of intense EM radiation shot out of the end of the device and fried the CCD's of the security camera.

"Somebody will be by to check on it soon," Casey said. "We need to move." He leapt into the stairwell and started up the stairs two at a time, gun at the ready.

Moses Finkelstein (etc.) continued to stare out the window. The silence was growing uncomfortable and Chuck started squirming in his seat. "You, ah, said you had a proposition, Mr. Finkelstein, sir," Chuck said.

Mr. Finkelstein turned around. "So I did. So I did. And please, Chuck, call me 'Moses'."

Chuck nodded. "Yes, sir."

Moses walked slowly back toward Chuck. "Chuck, the Buy More is only one part of my business empire. The most visible part, to be sure, but still only a part." He put his hands behind his back and began to pace the floor in front of Chuck. "I am not a young man, Chuck. I've made many enemies over my lifetime. One of them, Abdul al Fayed, is trying even now to destroy what I've built. He's the one planting the bombs in my stores. Part of some twisted revenge for capturing him some thirty years ago."

Chuck watched Moses pace the room, back and forth, back and forth, like a tiger taking the measure of his cage.

He suddenly stopped pacing and whirled to face Chuck. "He will not succeed!" He slammed his fist into his palm for emphasis. "I have friends. Very powerful, very ruthless friends." He smiled at that thought. "They will insure that al Fayed fails, and that he will pay dearly for what he has done. But even so, he has no idea what he is up against. He sees only Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More. He doesn't realize that he is seeing only the tip of the iceberg."

"What does all this have to do with me?" Chuck asked.

Moses turned back to Chuck. "The skills that I learned as a spy have served me well in my business dealings. The ruthlessness, the strategic thinking, the ability to improvise and to think one step ahead of my opponent. These are the skills I have used to build all this," he flung his hands up, indicating the vast empire he was describing.

Chuck looked at him dubiously. This was starting to sound more and more like the villain's speech from a Bond film.

Moses lowered his hands and smiled at Chuck almost tenderly. "al Fayed has, in a way, done me a favor. He has made me realize me my one, true weakness. The chink in my armor, if you will. I have built an empire, it's true." His voice started to rise again. "An empire that must be my legacy. That must survive me." He was pounding his fist again, emphasizing his words. "He has made me realize my Achilles' heel – the one way he truly can destroy all that I have built. He can blow up a few buildings, fine. But if he can get to me, if he can kill me, then it will be the end of my empire. The end of all I have built…"

He looked directly at Chuck and his voice softened again. "…unless there is someone, someone I can trust, someone I have groomed as my successor, my heir, to take my place. Someone with the skills, the intelligence, the courage to continue what I started."

He walked over and sat back down in the chair facing Chuck, but leaned forward and spoke in a voice barely above a whisper. "Alexander built the greatest empire the world has ever known, stretching from Greece to India. Yet when he died, his lieutenants dismantled his empire into squabbling little fiefdoms. He failed to plan for his own succession. I will not make the same mistake."

He looked at Chuck with a gaze so intense Chuck could almost feel the heat of it on his burned skin. "I have decided to train an heir apparent. An apprentice, if you will, who can manage my holdings when I am gone. Someone with the skills to continue, to expand the empire I have built. Someone I can train and nurture to take over my empire so that one day I can retire and enjoy the fruits of my labor. And so that my legacy will live on after me."

He reached over and clamped Chuck's knee in a vice-like grip. "I've chosen you to be that man. I want you, Charles Bartowski, to be my apprentice."

Author's Note: Some of you have noted that every time anyone uses Moses Finkelstein's full name, they always add "Founder and CEO of Buy More" (Emmett's line from Chuck versus the Sensei). It was a rather lame attempt at a running gag but it was getting a little old. I was considering dropping it altogether when WafflemanX suggested "Moses Finkelstein (etc.)" as a substitute. I thought that was funny (even if the running gag wasn't) so it has been added as an homage to reviewer extraordinaire and tasty breakfast treat WafflemanX. (Who was that masked breakfast food?)