Hi everybody. I apologize for this chapter taking an extra day or two, but I've been putting in long hours at work with a new project. Say what you want about your workplace, but when the company relies on you for an important project, there's a little bit of pride that goes in it. Especially if it's something they've never done before. Hopefully it will work out.
For those of you wondering, this story will have 18 chapters. And so far, we've had five of the seven events in the title. We've had one wedding (Morgan and Anna), the birthday (Jimmy Slade), the funeral (Ilsa Trinchina), and now we've had the two retirements. (Casey and Ilsa) That leaves two weddings to go. Will it be Chuck and Sarah? Casey and Ilsa? Jimmy and Alex? Will Ma Bartowski reunite with Stephen? Will Jeff and Lester surprise all of us and defy Proposition 8? You'll only find out by reading.
Enjoy, and please review. Authors live by the reviews they get, whether they're good or bad. And although some very nice people have been reviewing this story so far (thanks PassionOverMind, Jimmy 144, Dwarfius, and Jinxed97), I am hoping for a lot more. A few kind words never hurt, right? I'll even take unkind words.
Pweaase? Pwetty pweease? :-D
Los Angeles, CA
May 23, 2011
11:30 PM PDT
Alex Forrest dragged herself upstairs to her hotel room near the airport. She had been here for a week, and every day had literally been the same. She would get up early, drive to the location where the signal from the tracking device in the flash drive Dana Browning stole originated, and wait. The signal never moved, and if Browning was at the hotel, she was doing a good job of taking different routes to enter and exit the lobby each day. Alex was staying on her virtually all hours and violating Agency procedure in the process. However, she couldn't be persuaded to let the two local agents assigned to assist her take more of the workload. They had given thought to having their boss talk to her, but the regional director of the CIA branch in Los Angeles knew better than to mess with a determined Alex Forrest. He gave her all the real estate to work with he could. That may not have been the wisest move.
She was starting to fall victim to every spy's kryptonite: boredom. It was something new to her…or at least new to her within the last three years. Being sent to investigate and assess other agents often led to long days and nights of tedious work. She took it as part of the job because she knew they needed agents to be free of emotional and personal conflicts on the job in order to operate effectively. But now she couldn't stand just sitting there and not doing anything. She had to wait for Browning to make her move, and it was driving her crazy.
She paused for a moment, and a small smile came to her face. She had all the classic symptoms of something almost every agent goes through…when they're rookies. They could feel that American flag flying behind them, the visions of honor and glory in defending the country against its enemies. It was quite an adrenaline rush to have. Police, firefighters, military personnel, all of them went through it when they first started. But she never did. Her first few years in the CIA were all about revenge for what happened to her on 9/11. She lost the love of her life, and she wanted to exert payback of the most menacing kind. In retrospect, she made the right move in transferring out of Quantico after John was killed. With the infinite number of rules and regulations the average FBI agent had to follow, she would have been terminated or even jailed within months. But the CIA put that anger and hatred in the tall, adroit blonde to good use. Her record of success for years was almost unheard of. However, it also served to insure the human being who used to occupy the body of Alex Forrest would remain dead and buried, leaving a cold-hearted machine in her place.
But she was starting to experience the life returning to her. She was feeling that sense of glory that she should have felt back in 2002 but took nine years to arrive. It wasn't hard to determine the source, either. The job felt tangible again. She felt like she had something to fight for. The people she once considered nemeses were now friends. And she would have a hand in protecting them. She owed them that after everything they did for her.
She fell on the bed in her hotel room, not even bothering to change out of her clothes. It took too much effort at this point. The bed felt way too spacious for her liking, but she knew that was because of who wasn't with her. Jimmy did take up quite a bit of real estate whenever they shared a bed, but getting to press her body against his large, muscular frame was certainly not unpleasant. He had a very shy smile, almost as if he was afraid to be happy, but she knew the few times he broke it out were moments when it was genuine. Alex always loathed men who were too arrogant, but Jimmy was almost equally annoying with his complete lack of it. He single-handedly freed her from a dozen captors, and his first instinct was to apologize for it? She shook her head in disbelief. She was starting to think she ran into the romantic equivalent of uncovering a Picasso hiding in her garage, only everything on Jimmy was right where it was supposed to be. And working quite well, thank you very much, she thought with a bit of a racy smirk.
She set the alarm on her phone for 4:30 AM and drifted off to sleep. She decided to give herself a little treat and allow herself an extra ninety minutes tonight. But she was determined to complete this mission successfully. She would take down Browning and the Ring facility. After that, she would wish Chuck and Sarah congratulations and then take Jimmy away and not let him go until she told him how she felt about him. She would handcuff him to the bed if that's what it took. He may even like that. Truthfully, she wouldn't mind him handcuffing her to the bed every once in a while. The man certainly knew which buttons of hers to push in the bedroom.
Echo Park
May 25, 2011
3:00 PM PDT
Casey had never been on a honeymoon in his life, although he had to interrupt the odd one here and there in the midst of doing his job as an NSA agent. Usually he would wait for a day or two before eliminating his mark, as that was typically the best time to do it. However, he sometimes conducted his assassinations when the mark just arrived, or if he was feeling particularly mean, while the mark was in the bedroom. However, the last five days with Ilsa certainly felt like it.
Following Beckman's dressing down of the agents for helping him rescue Ilsa, Jimmy returned to California to continue work on the new Intersect with Stephen Bartowski. Chuck, Sarah, Ilsa, and he remained in Washington through the weekend and then some. He wanted to visit his father's grave at Arlington while he was here, and there was a considerable amount of paperwork to be filled out to expedite his retirement from the government. But most of that time was spent reconnecting with Ilsa. He was actually amazed how much he didn't know about her, but a few little items started leaking out here and there. She certainly had exquisite tastes, having found several amazing restaurants in the D.C. area he never knew existed. She was delighted to take a horse carriage ride to see the monuments, allaying Casey's fears he was being too old-fashioned when taking her out on the town. Casey could actually feel himself having fun. It was a very odd feeling to have. Even being with Ilsa the first time was more about his cover than being with her, although he certainly found that one of the most enjoyable missions he had been on...up until she was allegedly killed. But now it was just about them: two people instead of agents on a mission. To just relax and have fun was an incredibly foreign concept to Casey. But this was what normal people did, and he certainly could get used to doing it with Ilsa.
However, the proverbial honeymoon was over, and now it was time for Ilsa to move in. Casey was dreading this moment for the last five days. He was meticulous when keeping his apartment clean, save the occasional piece of clothing on the floor, so he wasn't worried about that. Unfortunately, his apartment couldn't have screamed 'career bachelor' any louder if he hung a banner in the apartment announcing it. He was quite fearful of how the highly-sophisticated and cultured European agent would react to his almost caveman-like existence.
Casey and Ilsa walked through the courtyard to his apartment. Casey put down their suitcases and unlocked the apartment door. He held his breath slightly as he pushed the door open and allowed Ilsa to enter. She took a look around as he expected. She then turned to him with a smile on her face. It was a smile that could light up an entire room. Casey never saw her use that smile before, but he certainly hoped he'd see it again in the future.
"You can go back to breathing again, John."
"What makes you think I was holding my breath?"
She laughed. "You've been worried about how I'd react to your...what's the right term...bachelor pad." She took another look around. "Actually, this is what I was expecting. You always struck me as someone who would keep their apartment tidy, which is good. But there's not much in here."
Casey nodded in agreement. "I haven't lived with a girlfriend in over twenty years. Given what I've done since then, I'm not even sure if that counts anymore."
Ilsa ran her hands over Casey's face. "I'm sure you have more than a few little foibles I'll have to contend with, and I'm equally sure I have a few that will drive you nuts. As long as we work on it and not hide anything that bothers us from each other, we can easily make this work."
Casey smirked. "Two spies agreeing not to keep secrets from each other? Can it still be called irony if it's so blatantly obvious?"
Ilsa laughed and gave him a kiss. "I gather a girl can at least get a good drink in your bachelor pad?"
"If you don't mind scotch."
"Ah, some things never change. That will be fine. Where's your computer? I need to check if the email from the DGSE has arrived."
"Probably best to use my personal computer. It's in the bedroom. Chuck set it up for me so I could do research without the government keeping tabs on it."
Casey and Ilsa walked to the bedroom. Ilsa took in the Spartan-like decor.
"I think we have some shopping to do, John," Ilsa replied with a hint of frustration.
Casey shrugged in half-hearted agreement. "I'll get the drinks."
Casey departed the room, and Ilsa sat at the computer. She typed the URL for her private email and located the message from the DGSE. She looked for a number on her mobile phone, and typed the information into the computer. The information she needed appeared on the monitor. She stared at it in shock.
"John!"
Casey ran back to the bedroom with two scotches in his hand. "Everything OK?"
Ilsa turned to him brimming with exhilaration. "We have a LOT of shopping to do, John."
Casey was confused until he looked at the display on the monitor. "They gave you four million euros?" He shook his head in disbelief. "I've been working for the wrong government."
"This is what I call a severance package. Isn't that five million in American money?"
"Just about," Casey replied. "But then, the damage you helped prevent would be billions of dollars if you could put a monetary value on it."
"WE helped prevent, John," Ilsa replied as she took her drink from him. "Don't forget what you and your friends did for me."
Casey nodded his consent. "I guess Bartowski and Walker will be getting a really nice wedding gift from us. This is a lot of money. We could have lived quite comfortably on my retirement salary alone."
Ilsa smiled. "But with this, we can do anything we want."
Casey shook his head and gave a gentle growl. "I just wished I knew what that was."
Ilsa smiled and wrapped her arms around Casey's neck. "We have plenty of time to figure it out. For now, I just want to relax and enjoy myself."
"Mmmm, I have a few ideas on that," Casey replied in a low, smooth voice as they kissed. Ilsa pressed up against him as they stood there in each other's arms.
"Well, either you're still armed or we found at least one thing you like to do," she purred as her hands roamed his body. "Maybe I should frisk you to know for certain which one it is."
Casey looked into her eyes. "That sounds like the prudent thing to do, Agent Trinchina."
They kissed each other passionately as they ripped each other's clothes off.
Unknown Location, California
May 26, 2011
10:00 AM PDT
"Ready, Jimmy?"
"As ready as I'll ever be."
"In three...two...one..."
Stephen Bartowski checked to make sure Jimmy was secured in the chair and hit the RETURN key on his keyboard. A set of images flashed on the monitor in front of Jimmy. His eyes were transfixed on them. The series of images lasted for only a few seconds, but the result when it was over was all too familiar to Jimmy.
He shut his eyes as the pain hit him.
"Jimmy, are you OK?" Stephen unstrapped him from the chair to check his condition. Jimmy slowly opened his eyes and rubbed his head.
"I'm fine. It just takes a little getting used to again. I lived with it for twenty years, didn't I?"
"This isn't the old Intersect," Stephen replied angrily. "There is something wrong with the code in these images. I have to fix it before we insert it into the program. I'm not putting you through the same thing again and let history repeat itself."
"Look, Casey was right about what he said in Washington. The Intersect is an important asset to the security of our country, and I said I would do the job. I can't back out now. Chuck and Sarah are too valuable to everybody to risk anymore. I'm not. What other choice is there?"
"Could you at least stop thinking nobody gives a damn what happens to you? Being a spy is just as dangerous to you as it is to them. You have a lot of people who care about what happens to you."
Jimmy looked down. "But if I never became a spy, if I never ran into all of you, nobody would have cared about me in the first place. Especially me."
Jimmy sat silently in the chair. He never gave the first thought to what all of this really meant. He just thought he wanted to fix one piece of his past and give Chuck and Sarah a chance to do whatever they wanted instead of spending their entire lives in danger. He thought he was expendable. It never occurred to him he was the only one to think that way about himself. However, the wheels had already been set in motion, and Jimmy wasn't one to break promises.
His voice was soft and distant. "Unfortunately, you can't have it both ways. Put Chuck in danger or put me in danger. Beckman would never let Chuck and Sarah go if I didn't do this. I owe it to them."
Stephen sighed. Jimmy had a point. "Don't you think you've done enough for them already? And what about Alex? What will she think when she finds out you downloaded this? She's not out of the picture, is she?"
Jimmy sat back in the chair. "No, she's not out of the picture. Not by a longshot." He gave a little chuckle. "It's pretty disturbing almost everybody knows me better than I do. You, Chuck, Sarah...hell, even Casey seems to know me better than I do."
"And given that, you never considered all of us think more highly of you than you do? Maybe we're right and you're wrong."
Jimmy nodded. "Probably true. I have a hard time letting my past stay there. And I don't know how Alex will react. You were right. I can't stop thinking about her." Jimmy drifted into thought momentarily before snapping back to reality. "But I agreed to do this before I even knew I was in love with her. And if it wasn't for Chuck and Sarah, I wouldn't even be in a position to fall in love with anybody in the first place."
He paused. "Maybe it will all work out. I don't know, but Alex never struck me as the nine-to-five soccer mom type. She was hell-bent on going back to work when she found out what was going on. She was supposed to find out what happened to the Cipher. After she finds it, I...I don't know. I have no experience at all when it comes to things like this."
Stephen smiled. "You're actually talking about being in love. I'd say you are on the right track. You've come a long way. Maybe it will work out, like you said."
Stephen went back to the computer and loaded a different set of images into the queue. He gestured for Jimmy to watch the monitor again. The new set of images flashed, and the data in the original set was canceled out. This time, however, there was no headache.
"What was in those, anyway?" Jimmy asked.
"If all goes well, Beckman will get her money's worth," Stephen replied.
Los Angeles, CA
May 27, 2011
8:30 PM PDT
Dana Browning took a look at what she saw in the back of the van. All of it would be of considerable use to her. It took several days to arrange this meeting, and the two men who possessed the van were certainly not the most trustworthy people she could find. But she needed what they had.
She was able to slip into the Los Angeles office on Monday. One of the fake access badges she had made for herself during her time in D.C. got her past the front door. From there, it was a matter of finding a computer that provided some privacy to use Tim Francis' credentials to do her research. She discovered Mr. Diaz would be transferred to Langley for a higher-level interrogation soon, as he was not answering any questions from the local agents who held him. But the interviews done with several witnesses indicated he was caught in a CIA underground base. Hopefully, he was able to get the information he needed before his capture. Now it was up to her to free him. She gave a little thought to doing it now, but she didn't know enough about the Los Angeles office to formulate a good strategy, and she had to assume the CIA would eventually find out about Tim Francis' death. He didn't have family or friends...at least not in Los Angeles...but it was only a matter of time before they figured it out and put a trace on anybody using his access codes. This was a one-time infiltration to gather information and nothing more.
"Everything satisfactory?" The rather heavyset man in the sweatpants and jacket that was a few sizes too small tried to get a read on Browning. She kept her expression and tone neutral while she eyed his partner, who stood passively by the front of the van.
"Everything looks good. Let's talk about a price."
The man pulled his gun out. "Once you tell me who you are."
Browning still didn't change expression. "I prefer to maintain some distance from the people I bargain with. Nothing personal."
The man cocked his gun and put it to her forehead. "I'm making it personal. We don't get a lot of women asking for this stuff. Are you a Fed?"
Dana smiled. Her left hand came up to grab the man's wrist and hold it away from her head while she plunged a long knife deep inside of him. She pushed him to the side and pulled out her shooting knife. She fired at the other man, and the blade found its mark. The man slumped against the door and fell to the ground.
Dana looked at the two men on the ground. It was ironic she worked for an anti-government organization and just helped the government by taking an arms dealer off the streets permanently. She closed the doors to the back of the van. She fished the keys out of the man by the door and drove the van away.
She had some homework to do. A one-person operation to attack a convoy took a lot of planning.
Echo Park
May 28, 2011
6:30 PM PDT
"There we go. All done," Chuck declared. Sarah looked at him in relief, but Ellie was still far from satisfied. Chuck and Sarah were quite jealous of Casey right now. He spent most of the week back in L.A. with Ilsa, and they were dealing with a matron of honor who appointed herself their wedding planner during their absence.
"Barely in the nick of time, Chuck," Ellie replied with more than a little ire. "What else is left? Did you pick the flowers?"
"Gardenias," Chuck quickly replied, which drew a smile from Sarah.
"Band?"
"Meadow Grove Orchestra, 9-piece band," Sarah answered.
"Dinner choices?"
"Chicken Kiev and a lemon-pepper seasoned pork tenderloin," Chuck answered.
"Where did you register?"
"Sur La Table for the kitchen, Bed, Bath, and Beyond for the bathroom and bedroom, and Macy's for everything else, since all three have locations in D.C., too," Sarah said.
"Wedding song?"
Chuck and Sarah looked at each other and smiled. "That's our little secret, Ellie," Sarah replied.
"So, has this wedding met the requirements for the Ellie Woodcomb Seal of Approval yet?" Chuck asked.
Ellie looked down and smiled. She was pestering her little brother when she didn't need to. She should have known by now to trust his instincts...or at least trust he would defer to Sarah for the really important things. Chuck and Sarah conveniently did not mention that a consultant in the CIA gave them all of those suggestions, and they simply had to make a few phone calls. Sarah may have wanted the perfect wedding, but she wasn't one to obsess with planning it. Chuck and Sarah left all the obsessing to Ellie.
"I'm sorry, guys. I just want everything to be perfect for you, and..." Ellie looked at the invitation she just sealed. "You couldn't hire a calligrapher to print the envelopes, Chuck?"
Chuck rolled his eyes. He offered the same thing to Sarah, but she saw what his printer could do and decided to save a few hundred bucks. "El, I know computers and I know printers. I used the best printer available and I even paid for this special font. A calligrapher would have charged an obscene amount of money for just fifty invitations."
"OK, OK, I'll stop worrying." And Ellie did...for exactly five seconds. "Wait, your tuxedos?"
Chuck put his hand up. "Morgan and I already have our fitting scheduled."
"Sarah, what about your wedding dress?"
Sarah smiled. "That's what I need your help with, Ellie. You're my matron of honor, after all. Isn't that part of your job?"
Ellie returned the smile. "Whenever you're ready, Sarah. It'd be my pleasure to help."
Chuck took the invitations in his hand as Ellie rose to depart. She wanted to drive herself over to Chuck and Sarah's apartment, since the point where she would be too pregnant to drive herself was approaching quickly. She gave Chuck and Sarah a hug.
"Call me next week, Sarah," Ellie said as the two hugged. "We'll find a beautiful gown for you."
"Thanks, Ellie."
Chuck and Sarah stood together holding hands as Ellie departed. Chuck turned to her after the door closed.
"I'm surprised you didn't have that lady in the CIA give you some suggestions. Or even have them make you one. They owe you a few favors, don't they?"
Sarah took him in her arms. "This part I want to do myself. I know I said I don't like all of the pressure of having a wedding, but I want to be able to pick my own wedding gown. And I want Ellie to help me select it. She was always a friend, even when she thought we had broken up. There's nobody I want at that wedding more than her. Besides you, of course."
Chuck laughed. "I agree. She has always looked after me, especially after our mom left." He gave Sarah a kiss. "Do you think your dad will be able to walk you down the aisle?"
Sarah nodded. "I sent a letter to him. He knows how to contact me. I can't see him missing this. He always knew it'd be you, didn't he?"
Chuck smiled. "He always liked the schnook."
The two continued to kiss and hold each other in their apartment.
Los Angeles, CA
June 3, 2011
10:00 AM PDT
Alex was conducting her surveillance for the second straight week on Dana Browning's hotel. Like the previous days, the signal hadn't moved. She was almost certain Dana was out and about, and it was possible she had already contacted The Ring and made plans for delivering the Cipher. However, as far as Alex knew, Dana did not know about the tracker in the flash drive. The material hadn't moved, and only Alex knew the tracker's GPS code.
She saw something unusual. A short-haired blonde emerged from the hotel. She had seen this person twice already, and the impression she got was this woman was staying in the hotel. However, Dana had also been in and out of the hotel, according to the lobby security cameras. They could have been two different people, but the heights were similar, and the blonde wore very conservative, bulky clothing for L.A.
The blonde-haired woman stopped by a van and knelt at the back of it. Alex cautiously moved her car to get a better look. She observed the woman changing the license plate. Hmmm, someone is about to do something bad, she thought. She started to pull out her mobile phone to call the local FBI office, guessing a woman using a van might be attempting to rob a bank. But she kept the woman under observation. Something looked unusual about her. Suddenly Alex's curiosity paid off.
As the woman bent to change the license plate, Alex saw her fix what looked like padding behind her back. The woman was trying to appear larger than she actually was. She was in disguise.
Is that Browning?
Alex's orders may have been to follow the signal wherever it went, but Beckman gave her plenty of latitude to operate. Alex was starting to get that little itch most agents felt when their instincts were telling them something, and she always listened. She pulled her car slowly out of the parking lot as she followed the van.
She dialed the local CIA office, and the operator already had the authority to patch her through to the regional director.
"Agent Forrest, you actually need our help? I just lost the office pool," Regional Director Nathan Spencer replied with a bit of lilt in his voice.
"I need some information, Director Spencer. I'm in pursuit of someone who might be Dana Browning, but I can't confirm it. Has there been any unusual activity in and around the area since I arrived?"
"Volumes, I'm afraid. We don't lack for work out here. Can you be more specific?"
"I mean within the Agency. Anything unusual?"
Spencer's mood turned serious. He opened the document he was reading an hour ago. "Yes, I just got off the phone with the L.A.P.D., and more than a few four-letter words were exchanged. One of our analysts had been missing for almost two weeks, and we just got the report from them he was killed during a robbery at a bar. We had been investigating ourselves, but Tim Francis was a quiet guy. No family, no friends we knew of."
Alex followed Dana through a series of turns. "They're certain it was a robbery?"
"His wallet and cash were missing, along with his watch, mobile phone, the works. Whoever did it didn't leave anything of value behind. Honestly, Tim was a computer jockey. He created databases to do analysis and prepared intel reports. He never really bothered anybody. He was very nine-to-five. Why do you ask?"
"I don't know. Something doesn't feel right."
"Hang on," Spencer replied. He put Alex on hold and went to his technology assistant. He had her run a search. When he saw the results on the screen, he almost punched a hole in the wall. He quickly reconnected with Alex.
"Shit, you were right, Forrest. Someone used Tim's access codes on the 23rd, and he was killed on the 20th."
"What is on the calendar for today?"
"Checking," Spencer replied as his assistant quickly brought up the information. "We're transferring a prisoner we caught here to Langley. They caught him in one of our underground facilities here, but he won't talk, so they're taking him for the full-package interrogation. He gave a false name, and his prints and retinal scan returned someone who was dead. Slightly balding, 5'8", mid-40's."
Alex stared in shock at the phone. "Spencer, the convoy is about to be attacked. Send everything you got right now! I'm in…"
Alex never saw the van stop and Dana pop open the back doors with a Russian-made RPG-29. Alex turned in time to see Dana fire the rocket-propelled grenade at her. Alex tried to throw the car hard to the right and accelerate out of the line of fire, but the grenade caught the left rear tire and exploded, flipping her car through the air and landing eighty feet away. Dana quickly closed the doors and ran back to the driver's seat. She hit the accelerator.
The van carrying Mr. Diaz pulled up to an intersection as the driver took the radio. The office radioed the emergency message and ordered the van to get off the road quickly and wait for escort from the L.A.P.D. However, it would be the last thing the driver and the security agent next to him would ever hear. Dana's van pulled up to the intersection, and Dana fired at them. The cab exploded, and the armored van flipped over on its side. Dana ran out of her van and went around to the back of the CIA van. She slapped a wad of C-4 on the lock to the back of the van and attached a detonator. She ducked behind several parked cars and hit the button on her remote. The doors of the armored van blew outward. She went to the van with her gun drawn. She shot the one guard who was still alive, but the other guard was already dead. Mr. Diaz was dazed, but being chained to the bench inside the van acted like a seatbelt to keep him in place. Browning used lock cutters to free him. They walked carefully out of the van and made their way back to the van Dana Browning used. They took off as several L.A.P.D squad cars pulled up to the scene.
Ventura, CA
June 5, 2011
11:00 PM PDT
Mr. Diaz was feeling much better after resting for two days. Dana Browning and he drove quickly to a pickup car she arranged following his escape from his CIA captors. She returned quickly to retrieve everything from her hotel. It was not safe to stay there, as the CIA certainly now knew she was in Los Angeles. Fortunately, she was successful in eliminating Alex Forrest, which burned any leads the CIA may have had on them. And certainly he didn't mind getting some payback against Jimmy Slade.
They separated in order to remain off the radar. They did not tell each other where they would hide, but their reunion would eventually happen. She was to deliver the material regarding the new Intersect project to the Ring facility, and her job would be done. He had to admit she was a good investment. She provided valuable information and tactical support. If he was feeling particularly kind, he may let her have a few days of fun with the money before eliminating her. After all, she could identify him, which was a loose end that could not be left untied.
But he had to let her complete her job first. And he would complete his. Getting his hands on Stephen Bartowski would coerce his son into action. And there was no way Jimmy Slade would sit on the sidelines if those two were captured. It would take time and planning, but Mr. Diaz knew this was the trifecta of people The Ring wanted. And he would deliver.