Thanks, as usual, to my editor and proofreader, Poa.
CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER
Chapter 25
Seeing the Trees for the Forrest
Sarah looked up when Chuck stomped into the room. He was breathing hard and the little vein on the side of his neck was throbbing. She had heard a commotion out in the hall, but she couldn't make out the words. "What's going on?" she asked.
Chuck shook his head. His words were forced out between his clenched teeth. "I don't care what Beckman says, I'm not going to work with that woman."
"You mean Agent Forrest," Sarah said.
"More like Agent Cylon." Noticing Sarah's confused expression, Chuck said, "Battlestar Galactica? Skin jobs? Look human but aren't?"
Sarah shrugged.
"You watched it with Morgan and me a couple times," Chuck protested.
"To be honest, I wasn't really paying attention," Sarah admitted. "I was writing mission reports in my head."
Chuck raised his eyebrows and Sarah laughed. She patted the bed next to her. Grinning, Chuck came over and sat down on the bed. Sarah laid her hand over his. Her smile faded and she looked concerned. "Chuck, don't rock the boat on this one. I'm sure Agent Forrest is a good agent and she'll be able to protect you since I can't."
"Sarah, I…"
Sarah laid a finger over Chuck's lips. "For me?" she asked. "Please?"
All the fight went out of Chuck. His shoulders slumped and he gave her an expression that managed to be both a pout and a grin at the same time.
"Now, where were we?" she asked, slipping her hand behind his neck and pulling him closer.
Their lips had just touched when there was a knock at the door. They jerked apart. "Oh, for crying out loud," Sarah muttered softly. Chuck leapt to his feet and they both turned toward the door.
Before either could respond to the knock, the door was flung open. There was no mistaking the dark green suit, white shirt and yellow tie: Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More. He took a step into the room and paused, chin up and cocked slightly to the side, like an actor milking his entrance for applause.
After a suitable pause, he looked beneficently at Chuck and Sarah and smiled, baring his pearly white teeth. "Charles! Agent Walker! I am so pleased that you both survived your encounter with my nemesis."
He held up a hand and a huge flower arrangement with legs staggered into the room. Chuck couldn't help noticing that they were very shapely legs.
"Ah, Amelia, you can put it…" he paused and looked around the room, "… over there." Moses Finkelstein (etc.)'s personal assistant/bodyguard struggled over to where her employer had indicated and set down the flowers.
Moses walked over to the side of the bed opposite Chuck and lifted Sarah's hand to his lips. His lips were cold on her skin, quite the contrast to the warmth of Chuck's kiss. "I was so distressed to learn that you had been injured, my dear," Moses Finkelstein (etc.) said. "It is not serious, I trust? You will be back working with your partner, Agent Carmichael, soon?"
Sarah extricated her hand from his clammy grasp. "How did you get in here?" she asked. "This area is restricted. For that matter, how did you find out I was here?"
Moses Finkelstein (etc.) waved a hand, as if brushing off the query. "Oh, I have my ways. As to your injury, I watched the whole thing on the video feed from the Buy More." He turned to Chuck. "Brilliant, my boy, the way you pretended to cower in fear just before you pounced on that terrorist. Misdirection, that's the key. I must say, you do the bumbling Jerry Lewis routine to perfection. Why, I remember an agent I had working under me when I was in Mossad who…"
"Mr. Finkelstein," Sarah interrupted. "As much as I appreciate the visit… and the flowers… I am a little fatigued, so if you don't mind?"
"Oh, of course, of course," Moses Finkelstein (etc.) said. "I should have realized. My apologies." He gave her a slight bow, an enigmatic smile peeking through the façade of concern. He walked quickly around the bed and clamped a hand on Chuck's shoulder. "Come, Charles, let's allow Agent Walker her rest, shall we? There's something I want to discuss with you."
"But… I…" Chuck tried to protest, but Moses Finkelstein (etc.)'s grip was like iron and he used it to maneuver Chuck out the door.
Sarah frowned after them, and then noticed that Amelia was still standing over by the flowers. Sarah started. Moses Finkelstein (etc.) had so dominated the room, she had forgotten Amelia was there.
The personal assistant/bodyguard gave her a slight nod. But Sarah recognized that look. That slightly smug expression that said, 'If it had been me, I wouldn't have gotten shot.' "I am sorry for your injuries," Amelia said. She cocked her head slightly to one side. "Does this mean that you will be removed from Mister Bartowski's team?"
"No," Sarah answered, a little too quickly.
One corner of Amelia's mouth twitched up ever so slightly. Anyone but a trained agent might have missed it. A trained agent… or a jealous girlfriend? Sarah suppressed a slight shudder at this last thought.
"Take care, Miss Walker," Amelia said, and then turned and walked out of the room.
Sarah just managed to keep from throwing her water glass at the closing door.
***
Moses Finkelstein (etc.) led Chuck down the hallway.
"Um, sir?" Chuck said. "I was… ah hem… that is, I was tasked with keeping an eye on Agent Walker."
Moses Finkelstein (etc.)'s hand did not leave Chuck's shoulder. "She's in a secure facility, Charles. I'm sure she'll be fine for awhile. We have something to discuss, and I would feel more… comfortable discussing it in a secure location."
"But you just said this was a secure location," Chuck said.
Moses patted him twice on the shoulder, then gripped him again and continued to steer him toward the elevator. "There is secure, my boy, and secure. I would rather… Well, let's just say I want to have a private conversation."
Chuck looked nervously over at Moses, but swallowed and allowed himself to be led out.
Amelia Banks trailed along behind. Her normal bodyguard scowl replaced with a smirk.
***
Moses Finkelstein (etc.)'s limousine was parked on an empty floor of the parking garage. The driver Chuck recognized from his trip to Moses Finkelstein (etc.)'s office – the one Chuck had called 'Lurch' but who Chuck remembered was named Davis - was standing by the limo's back door. Lurch opened the door to the limousine and Moses Finkelstein (etc.) motioned for Chuck to climb in. Chuck looked around nervously, and then slipped inside. He slid over to the far side, all the way up against the other door. Moses Finkelstein (etc.) entered next and took the seat next to Chuck. Amelia entered last and took the front seat, with her back to the driver and facing Chuck and Moses. She slowly crossed her long, shapely legs and placed her hands primly in her lap.
Lurch shut the door and stood with his back to the car.
Chuck swallowed again.
Moses Finkelstein (etc.) leaned forward and opened a small mini-bar on the side of the large passenger compartment. "A drink?" he asked.
Chuck shook his head. With all that had been going on, he wasn't even sure what time it was. Awesome's frat bros might have the attitude that 'the sun was always over the yardarm somewhere,' Chuck didn't like to drink before noon, at the earlier. Besides, as wrung out as he was, alcohol might simply put him to sleep.
Moses Finkelstein (etc.) picked up a Waterford tumbler, looked it over, put it back, and selected another. Picking up a decanter, he poured himself a generous splash of an amber liquid Chuck assumed was scotch. And probably really, really good scotch at that. Casey would be jealous.
Moses Finkelstein (etc.) leaned back in the seat and turned to face Chuck. "Charles, I want to talk to you about my previous offer."
Chuck licked his lips. "Um, sir… I mean, Moses. I thought we, um, agreed that I needed to stay with my, uh, team… while we were in the middle of the al Fayed investigation?"
Moses Finkelstein (etc.) took a sip from the crystal tumbler and smiled. "Indeed we did. And now al Fayed is on the run."
Chuck straightened a little. "Sir, he might have suffered a minor setback, but this is a man who was willing to blow up your stores and kill dozens of innocent people just to get back at you after, what, thirty years? I don't think this mission is over by a long shot."
Moses Finkelstein (etc.) leaned forward and waved his hand around, sloshing the drink in the tumbler. "Nonsense, my boy. Terrorists are cowards. He'll hole up for awhile. Maybe for years. Let someone else run him to ground."
"But sir…"
"Charles. It's time. Time to embrace your destiny. This little set-to at the Burbank store should convince you of that." He leaned back into the leather seat. "You love her, don't you?"
"What?" Chuck asked, surprised.
"Agent Walker. You're in love with her. It doesn't take a former spy to see all the signs."
Amelia took in a sharp breath.
Chuck shook his head vigorously. "Sarah… Agent Walker is my partner. It would be… We're not… Two agents are not allowed to be involved in that way."
Moses Finkelstein (etc.) chuckled. "Charles," he said, shaking his head. "Charles. Anti-fraternization policies are impossible to enforce and so are universally ignored. Besides, when one reaches a certain level, the rules no longer apply. But, no matter. It is simply one more reason why you should accept my offer."
"Sir, I really…"
Moses Finkelstein (etc.) held up a hand. "Wait, Charles, hear me out. You are in love with Agent Walker. You want to be with her. More importantly, you want her to be safe." He took a sip of his drink. "Ours… well, yours… is a dangerous profession. If you had been just a little bit slower, or if Hassan's aim had been a little better…"
He shook his head.
"Think of it, Charles," he continued. "You can take her away from all that. If you work with me, if you agree to become my apprentice, my heir, there will be nothing keeping you apart. You can take her away from this dangerous life. You can protect her."
Chuck leaned forward just a little, listening.
"What can the CIA offer you, offer her? Danger. Death? Is that what you want for her? Do you want to some day cradle her lifeless body in your arms, her blood staining your hands? Is that what you want?"
"No," Chuck whispered, not meaning to say it out loud. A small shiver ran down his back. The ex-spy was describing one of his recurring nightmares.
Moses Finkelstein (etc.) drained his drink and set the empty tumbler back on the bar. Then he turned back to Chuck and smiled beneficently. "You are a patriot. I understand that. I do. You feel like you're making a difference. Like you're saving the world."
His smile faded and his eyes grew cold. "But in the end, what will it get you? A 'thank you', a pat on the back, and maybe, if you live long enough, a pension that is just enough to let you live in some dingy apartment all alone. All alone."
He wasn't even looking at Chuck anymore; he was just staring off into the distance.
"Because you have sacrificed everything… and everyone you loved… for your country. For some supposed higher calling. For something bigger than yourself." He practically spat the words.
Moses blinked several times and then turned back to Chuck. The 'kindly uncle' voice was back. "Charles, I need you, but more importantly, you need me. I can save you and, in turn, you can save her. Just like…"
He paused and took a deep breath.
"al Fayed is nothing. The loss of a few stores is nothing. But what I have built, this empire, is everything. And I am handing it all to you, my boy, on a silver platter. The CIA can't save her. But I can. You can. If you will let me help you. If you will help me."
Chuck looked down at the bandages on his hands. Then he looked out the window of the limo toward the elevator, toward the hospital bed where Sarah Walker lay wounded. Where yes, dammit, the woman that he loved lay wounded.
He looked back at Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More, former Mossad analyst and former Mossad agent. Chuck held out his hand. His voice was firm. "Moses… you've got a deal."
The burning sensation in his bandaged hand was terrific as Moses grasped the proffered hand firmly with his own.
