Posted: 1/24/11
Many thanks to P.J. Murphy for his beta work
I can't believe it's been three weeks since my last chapter. Real life work has been rough, but things have settled down a bit and I had some time for writing.
Let me know how you feel! We live for reviews, right? Love it or hate it so some parts thereof, let me know.
Nov. 30, 2010 - Late Afternoon - Mercy General
The emergency room doors slid open as the doctor and an orderly approached. The siren in the distance grew louder, and they increased their pace towards the bay. They took positions on each side of the yellow outline painted on the concrete in anticipation of the ambulance's arrival.
The orderly noticed the two men standing on the other side of the bay. One looked military, the other a shorter, nerdy character. "Gentlemen, you can't stay here if you aren't hospital staff. I must ask that you clear the area."
"Colonel John Casey," the taller one informed him as he flashed his credentials. "The woman in that ambulance should be one of my people."
"That may well be, but again I must ask that you clear the area."
Casey gave one of his patented growls. Morgan sidled his way in front of Casey and tried to push him back. "John, please, let them handle this. Devon is with her and will make sure they do everything they can."
"This is Sarah," Casey grunted in protest.
The doctor, hearing Devon's name, turned back to Morgan. "Dr. Devon Woodcomb?"
Morgan smiled. "Why yes, we're friends of the family, as is the woman being brought in." He emphasized every word by pointing in the air at each inflection.
"Very well, but please stand behind that yellow line. It'll make the crew's job a lot easier."
Morgan turned back to Casey with a triumphant grin. "See that John? Sometimes you just need to be nice. It can go a long way." Casey grunted in acceptance.
Morgan stepped back behind the line and tugged at Casey's shirt. Casey turned to him with a snarl on his face. Morgan pointed to the ground, showing that he's behind the line. Casey didn't move.
Morgan glanced at the doctor with a shrug. "Afghanistan." Why is he being so stubborn?
The sirens were closer now. The sound stopped abruptly, replaced by the rush of rubber on the pavement.
Casey knew she was OK. Still… He sucked in a breath and waited.
The blue lights flickered back and forth as the ambulance came around the corner and pulled up by the curb, the braking tires spraying up the crushed gravel underneath. As the ambulance moved backwards into the bay it beeped its warning. There was just a moment of silence before the doctor and the orderly each yanked a door open. Casey moved back to avoid being bumped.
Devon jumped down and turned to grab his end of the stretcher.
A familiar voice came from within the vehicle. "Damnit, Devon! I'm fine. Let me out of here!"
Casey heard her voice and finally exhaled as the stretcher was pulled out of the ambulance. Sarah turned her head, noticed her teammates, and smiled.
"Help! Guys, I'm being kidnapped!" She immediately frowned and closed her eyes.
Casey stepped forward, "OK, Walker. Let them do their jobs."
Morgan shook his head and eyed Casey. Didn't someone else just say the same thing to him? It sounds so familiar.
Devon reached under the stretcher to lock it in the upright position and then stepped towards Morgan and Casey. He corralled them a few steps out of the way as the doctor and orderly wheeled Sarah through the ER doors. Devon tugged at their shirts to indicate that they should follow him.
As they proceeded into the ER, Devon gave them an update. "I called Beckman. She is sending a security detail for Sarah's protection. They should be here in about twenty minutes. In the meantime, it's just the three of us."
Once past the doors, Casey stopped Morgan and pointed to the side where he wanted Morgan to stand guard. He pointed to his eyes and then out the door. Morgan nodded in concurrence. It was quiet in the ER, easing their makeshift security duties.
Devon smiled as he watched Morgan take his post. "Awesome, John. He's getting a little better every day."
"Looks like he just needed to focus. I think Alex could've done far worse." Casey scanned the ER. "Devon, keep an eye on Walker. Watch what they do. But keep an eye out for Grimes and myself. We really need to have each other's backs right now."
Casey took point at the far end of the ER, keeping his partners in his direct line of sight. He could see Devon looking inside the room.
Devon took a quick look in Morgan's direction, then Casey's. He then looked in on Sarah. "Yes, I know you're fine. They're going to look you over, then send you up for an MRI and a CT scan. Quiet already." He snuck another look at Morgan.
Casey smirked as he watched Devon deal with Walker's stubbornness and felt a bit proud of Devon. The man could still keep an eye out for his team. The irony wasn't lost on Casey how Devon wanted nothing to do with the spy world but kept coming back for more 'secret sessions'. Devon was resigned to Chuck being in the spy business and the inherent dangers the job brought with it. He wanted to make sure that Ellie and the baby were safe. Therefore, no guns were ever permitted in his house.
He froze as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Out of the corner of his eye, he swore he saw a dark suit leave the ER. Damnit, stop daydreaming!
One of the doctors came out. "OK. We're done here. Get her up to the lab."
Two orderlies wheeled Sarah's gurney out of the ER and headed down the hallway towards an elevator bank. Devon stuck to her side.
"Grimes!" Casey had moved up a foot behind Morgan.
"Yeah?" Morgan didn't turn or jump. He'd been watching his team through the reflection in the window.
"Go with Devon and Sarah. Beckman's men should be here soon. I'll catch up."
Morgan nodded and turned to leave when Casey stopped him. "Keep your eyes open," Casey told him in a hushed voice. "Might be overreacting, but I could have sworn someone was watching us."
Morgan placed a hand on Casey's shoulder. "Got it."
He double-timed it towards Sarah and Devon. As he caught up to Sarah, he took her hand. "How's my bud's girl?"
She smiled. "I'm fine, but these guys won't let it go."
He leaned down and whispered, "Hey, after Devon saw that wreck, he didn't want to take any chances. Especially after what happened in Morocco."
She smiled at him. He's actually being reassuring.
Whoah. Even banged up, she manages to have that look. He looked away and bit his lip. Where the hell are you, Chuck?
Outside the MRI Lab
Devon and Morgan paced the hallway like expectant fathers. They shared the same thought. Where the hell is Casey?
Devon blinked first and called him. "Sarah is in the lab and we started to worry about you."
"Sorry, just taking care of business with the security detail," he replied. "I'm on my way up."
Another 15 minutes went by before Casey finally showed up. But to his credit, he brought the closest thing he had to actually issuing an apology: hot coffee. "How's she doing?"
"Almost done," Devon answered as he took one of the coffees. "Then they'll take her to get a CT scan. That'll take another hour."
"Good." He turned to Morgan, "Hit the head."
"It's just nerves."
"Hey, dope! You take the break when you get the chance. You never know when it might get busy."
Morgan gave him an 'OK' grunt and headed down the hall looking for the men's room.
"Around the corner!" Devon directed Morgan and smiled. Looking over at Casey, "Teaching him your Gruntian language? Might be handy for him to know if he ever runs into Chewbacca."
Casey gave a grunt, which translated would have meant the coffee was getting cold.
"I almost understood that," Devon beamed. They both laughed.
"How's Ellie doing?" Casey asked.
"All things considered, pretty well. I have her on a complete regimen of natural calming herbs. You should try some."
Casey rolled his eyes at Devon and shuddered. "I did. Couldn't get the taste out of my mouth for days."
Devon remembered something from before. His voice was subdued. "John, remind me to thank Beckman."
"For?"
"She was absolutely awesome. They didn't take kindly to us going AWOL over Thanksgiving weekend. She called Westside and smoothed things over with the administration for Ellie and me. The hospital gave us a mini-sabbatical until the baby is born. With the pregnancy and Chuck being gone, we were tight on the ropes, bro!"
Casey grunted where most human beings would simply nod. "Occasionally, Beckman does the right thing." He spotted Morgan coming around the corner. "Woodcomb, your turn."
Devon gave Morgan a broad smile and a friendly pat on the shoulder as they passed each other.
Morgan came up to Casey. "Case, have you heard from Carina?"
He turned towards Morgan with a bit of a snarl. They still haven't had that talk since Thanksgiving. "Grimes, you do remember that I'm your girlfriend's fath…"
Morgan eyes widened at Casey's response, and Casey realized he made a bad assumption of Morgan's intent. His posture relaxed. "Sorry, yes. She's still checking each piece of intel we have and checks in with Mortensen. So far, nothing." He sighed. "I don't trust anyone outside of Team Bartowski, so Carina is alone. But at least whoever is involved hasn't made a connection between her and us." I hope.
"When Sarah is released, why don't you catch up to Carina?"
Casey shook his head. "Nah, I don't want to leave the family unprotected."
"Bullcrap, man! They've got Casa B locked down. And it's quiet right now." Morgan inflected his voice to have a more guttural sound like Casey's. 'You take the break when you get the chance'."
"Smartass," Casey growled. "But, point taken."
"Speaking of chances, it's your turn," Morgan said as he pointed towards the returning Devon.
"Yup." Casey left and took his turn.
Morgan pulled out his phone and called Alex. It barely had a chance to ring when she answered.
"Hi, hon!"
"Hi back! I miss you, Alex. Um…" He wasn't sure what to tell her without undue alarm. "Alex, I'm with Devon and your father at Mercy General."
He took a quick breath and looked at Devon. Devon gave him a nod. She'll be fine, he silently mouthed to Morgan.
"Morgan, are you OK? Is it my father or Devon?"
"No, no. We're all fine. It's Sarah. She's good, but she was in a car accident."
"What? What happened?"
"Your father isn't sure yet, but, we'll figure it out once Sarah is released. Another hour or so." He closed his eyes and tried to collect his thoughts. What the hell is going on?
"Morgan, are you still there?"
"Uh, yeah… Sorry. Can we hang out a little tonight?"
"I have a lot of homework. But, you can keep me warm," she replied with a bit of lilt in her voice.
Morgan blushed enough for it to be seen through his beard. "Umm… whew! Sizzling shrimp for dinner?"
"Those are starting to grow on me."
Devon elbowed Morgan to warn him Casey was coming.
"I gotta go, Alex. Talk to you later."
"Bye hon!"
He quickly pocketed his phone, looked at Devon, and rolled his eyes. Yeah yeah, focus, he thought.
"Grimes, you should have told her I said hi," Casey said with a smirk.
Morgan did a double-take. "How do you do that?"
Devon shook his head and smiled. "Bro, if your grin was any bigger, the top of your head would roll off!"
The Room
Everything hurts. I just wish they would end this already and let me go. Huh? That wasn't real. What is real?
I'm Charles Bartowski. I'm married to Sarah Walker. No. That hasn't happened yet. Yet? I love Sarah Walker. I work at the Buy More. I'm a spy? I'm a spy. YES! I'm a spy! That's it. I went…
Where did I go? I can't remember anything. Just Sarah. I want to be with her.
Oh, God, what have I done!
Damn! I can't get out of this chair. (grunt)
No! They heard me. Here we go, I can feel that heat again.
CASEY! I remember him too, now. Heh, big guy, a good friend. He's dead now. No. Remember, rememb…
One Hour Later - Mercy General - CT Scan lab
Devon emerged from the CT scanning room to find Casey and Morgan camped out on a couch. "Sarah has been cleared to leave. Thank God nothing showed up on any of the tests. A few scratches on her forehead were the worst of it." He paused and looked at his friends. "I want her to sleep; that kind of wreck really plays with your head."
Casey stood at seeing Sarah causing a commotion down the hall. "Good! Then home it is and we pour her into bed. Then you guys take care of your ladies and I'll have a chat with mine."
Carina? Slow down, Johnny boy, he thought. You know you can't trust the woman. But still, things have been good.
"Enough already! Let me up!" Sarah was yelling at a rather burly orderly who had a hand clamped on her shoulder, keeping her in place on the wheelchair. She gave serious thought to taking him on, despite giving 200 pounds and half a foot of height to him.
"Hospital regs, Sarah," Devon reassured her. "It's just until we get outside."
"I'll get the Vic and meet you guys out front." Casey turned to leave and paused. "Don't hurt him, Walker. I'll make you fill out the paperwork."
Sarah growled at him as Casey tried to stifle a laugh…and failed.
Office Building – Unknown Location
He ignored the first knock at the door, hoping they would go away. But someone was persistent, and he wasn't used to that. He scared people, and he used that to his advantage.
The knock grew louder and could not be ignored. "Come."
The agent opened the door slowly, sticking in just his head. "Sir?"
"Yes?" he replied in exasperation. The agent hesitated. I don't mind a little scared, but this is sad for an agent.
The agent came all the way into the office. "She's gone off-script."
He rubbed his head. It needed a shave. He wasn't going bald, but he found it increased his intimidation factor, so he kept it that way since he was wounded in Iraq. Worked for G. Gordon Liddy, right?
"How bad?"
"A four-car pileup on the freeway. Local authorities are already onsite."
That crazy bitch. "One of the principles?"
"Yes sir. From the reports, it sounds like Special Agent Walker got the worst of it and is already being taken to a local ER."
His eyes widened. "Not good. Get Hoover in here, NOW! Dismissed!"
The agent turned and left in a hurry.
Hoover wasn't his real name. It was his function. He cleaned up other people's messes. Usually without creating bigger problems. But, he owed him.
Wait, who owed whom? He allowed himself a small smile.
Hoover didn't knock. He didn't fear D.D. Krang like most, but he did respect the man. He looked skittish and quite the nerd. No, strike that, geek. And more so than usual this morning. His glasses were cock-eyed and he had a damn comic book rolled up and stuffed in his back pocket. Had Krang not seen this guy in action, he'd give him a daily wedgie.
"Don't we pay you enough for a decent suit?"
"Sorry, these things never look good on me. I doubt, however, that you called me in here to give me fashion advice. What do you have for me?"
"You have that right…old friend." Krang raised his big beefy hands to rub his eyes, stood up, and came out from behind the desk. He looked more like a pro wrestler than a Deputy Director. He was dressed in a well-tailored suit that still looked tight when he moved. He offered his hand and the two shook. "Looney Tunes just went off-script. Do what you can to bring her in. Undamaged, please."
Hoover frowned. "That would bring certain difficulties with it."
"I know, but we may still need her." He sighed. "Undamaged was a request, but bring her in alive at the minimum. That's an order."
"Very well."
Krang waited for Hoover to leave before he returned to his work.
He moved back behind his desk and caught sight of the knife sitting on the edge of it. He picked it up and ran his finger along the edge. It was a gift from his now ex-wife. He still loved her but he loved something more, and it was jealous for his time.
His mind wandered, beginning to daydream about better times, when he heard another knock. He flicked the knife at the door. It made a sharp thunk! sound as it penetrated the thick wooden door. Whoever it was did not knock again.
I should be out in the field. This damn desk is dragging me down.
He actually missed The Ring. It made his life so much easier to mask his actions as being those of The Ring. Now he had to be careful of every move he made. He was no traitor; he just didn't like the way the new management did things. Clinton really screwed up the whole spy trade.
Chuck and Sarah's bedroom
Sarah walked into their bedroom and saw the mess from Thanksgiving morning; clothes, dishes, game controllers…oh God, that game controller. She wanted to smile, cry, scream, laugh, anything to just feel. But she felt empty. She started picking up the clothes to make laundry piles as a few tears streamed down her face.
She grabbed his t-shirt. She could smell her Chuck on it. She closed her eyes and just breathed in his scent. She stripped off everything she was wearing and put his t-shirt on, then looked down and grabbed his pants, his Buy More shirt and tie. Putting on his tie, she balled up the rest of his clothes and crawled into bed with them. She grabbed his pillow, pulled it tightly to her, closed her eyes, and breathed in her Chuck. Right now, he's back home in bed with her. The world started to feel right to her again, even if it truly wasn't. Slowly she relaxed and gave in to sleep.
Nov 30, 2010 - The Room
Mary was such a cute baby! Come here, sweetie. All it takes is a smile. See, Kid? Yeah, I remember all of it now.
What can I say about Casey? GRUNT. He had so many ways to say that. He was more than a friend. He was family, and he will be missed.
Oh, nononono! Ellie! Chuck began to cry. Devon, I'm so sorry. Sarah, it's going to be so hard for Ellie's kids to grow up without their Mom.
San Francisco, California
Carina slowed her R8 Spyder as she took the tight and twisting roads up the hill towards Coit Tower. She almost wished she had borrowed something a little less 'throaty,' as the constant revving attracted a lot of attention, to say nothing of the pain she felt she was inflicting.
"Come on, baby, we're almost there." The GPS showed her as being on top of the house. She read the directions she had scribbled. The last house on the right before Pioneer Park. She pulled into the driveway and killed the engine.
This wasn't going to be easy. How do you talk to someone's parents about their kid being an insane, killer spy? You don't. Hannah was wanted for questioning in the embezzlement of funds while in the employ of the Buy More. At least, that's what her parents will think. Who comes up with these idiotic covers? She was a DEA agent working for the CIA impersonating the FBI. Just how many laws had she broken this time? She argued for simply going in there and telling them the truth. Help us and the psycho bitch lives.
But she promised Sarah and Johnny to stick to the script. Hell, she liked Chuck, too, and Carina wanted to make sure she did everything she could to help bring him back home. She rang the doorbell and waited.
"Hello?" she heard a woman's voice over the crackling PA.
"FBI, ma'am. I'd like to speak to you about the whereabouts of your daughter, Hannah."
"We haven't seen or heard from her in months!" The speaker crackled. "Now go away and leave us alone."
A man in his fifties opened the door. "Forgive my wife. It's been a very difficult time for us." He stepped outside and motioned for Carina to follow. "You have to understand. Hannah is our only child. I don't think she is well."
"I can empathize, but we do need to speak with your daughter."
"That'll be a little difficult. We haven't heard from our daughter in about six months." The man appeared genuinely upset. "She seemed to have had a mental collapse a few weeks after we were supposed to meet her new boyfriend. She simply disappeared."
"I'm going to leave you my card. If you hear from Hannah, please give me a call."
The speaker crackled again. "Please go away!"
The man was momentarily startled by his wife's voice coming through the PA. He turned back to Carina with a morose expression. "I think you should leave. I'll call the moment I hear from her."
Carina nodded. "Thank you for your time." She got back into her car and drove down that torturous road.
"J," she said into her burner. The autodialer on the phone found the correct number.
"Casey. Carina, how's the road trip?"
"Still hitting dead ends."
"We could've used some good news."
"Sorry, Johnny. I just left Hannah's parents. The mother's a mess, but I spoke to the father. He said Hannah is not well and they haven't seen her in six months. I'm inclined to believe him."
Chuck and Sarah's Bedroom
She never cared for those silly video games the boys played. Probably because they never lived up to the real thing and broke all the protocols in such silly ways. But, it was a part of him and she wanted whatever little piece of him she could get. Besides, all she could manage was a three hour nap.
Sarah logged into his Call of Duty account and fired up the game. She kept dying as she couldn't get the hang of the controller. "Stupid thing!" She sighed and started again, loosening her grip and looking at the screen. Her fingers began to find their way on the controller. "Ha! That's it." They didn't stand a chance. She ripped through every mission and obliterated everyone and everything. But she felt nothing, no thrill and no satisfaction.
"What's the point?" she said aloud to no one. She let the controller drop from her hand as she stood up and grabbed the bottle on the table next to her and crawled off to bed. There were no missions. There was no purpose. Just a prisoner in her own home.
She made a barely audible grunt. I hate this hiding in the dark with nothing to shoot or hit. She lifted the bottle and looked at it. Just enough to get some sleep. She put the bottle to her lips and tilted the bottom up, feeling the liquid burn on the way down. The family would be furious with her if she went out alone again. She took another sip and put the bottle down on the floor and leaned back. She slid under the covers and found her Chuck.
She smiled. Family. I have a family. OK. Play it safe for them. The alcohol was beginning to have its desired effect as she closed her eyes and let her mind drift.
###
"Daddy!" The little girl was crying. Sarah smiled as the girl's father scooped up his daughter. Mary was barely three years old and looked just like Chuck; tall and getting taller every day with long brown curls that never stayed in place. And those brown eyes. How many times had she looked into Mary's eyes and thought she saw Chuck looking back at her.
Within moments, Mary stopped crying and was laughing and squirming as if nothing had happened. He put her down and off she ran to some other adventure.
Chuck gave Sarah the same puzzled look he always gave her when she asked the obvious. "How do you do that?"
Then his eyes would light up and he'd break out that grin of his. "Do what?"
She laughed at him. "As if you didn't know!"
Chuck stepped closer to Sarah, giving her the Bartowski eyebrow dance. He put one arm around her waist and his free hand on her seven month belly. He had to lean in just a bit to give her a kiss.
"Very nice, big boy, but that's how I got this way!"
She heard a little girl giggle and Sarah turned to look in Mary's direction. She saw only shadows and frowned. She looked back at Chuck, but he had disappeared and her belly was now flat. She knew what was in her hand before she looked: her Smith & Wesson. Blindingly beautiful, but cold.
###
Sarah sat up in her bed, wanting to scream, but caught herself. Just a nightmare, she reassured herself.
The Room
I can't let her go, not yet. I know. It's her time to go out and make a mark on the world. I'm just getting old.
Sarah, she's my little girl. Do you doubt me? Give her to me, Mary. I love the way she smells. See? Another generation of Bartowski women that can't resist. You were right about children, Sarah. We should have had another.
He frowned. Something's not right. What's going on?
They killed Morgan. No, I won't rest until we catch them. I know we aren't spies anymore, but we have friends…
Little Sarah is getting married? Kid, have we gotten that old? I guess we have. It isn't so scary growing old with you.
NO! NO! NO! You can't go first!
Building Under Renovation
"You've been a very naughty little girl, Hannah."
She flinched and then waited to hear where the voice came from. Her head swiveled back and forth to hone in on it.
"Krang sent me to bring you in. You were told to leave the others alone."
Hannah wheeled in the right direction and spotted Hoover walking towards her. She raised her handgun.
"Whoah. Krang just wants to see you. Take it easy." Hoover had his own gun pointed at Hannah and was walking slowly towards her.
Damn, he'll ruin everything! I'm so close. She lowered her handgun. "That idiot was supposed to shoot out the tire only. It was meant to make them keep their heads down. It wasn't my fault."
Without taking his eyes off of her, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a handkerchief, and wiped his neck. "No it wasn't, but it happened. And the DD wants to make sure you understand we can't have these side missions." He lowered his weapon.
She turned her head to look out the window and sighed. "Very well." She turned back, taking a step towards Hoover, raised her handgun, and squeezed the trigger.
Hoover staggered back with a confused look on his face. He looked down and saw the growing circle of blood on his chest. The crazy bitch beat me? How? He fell to his knees. His arms betrayed him and hung limply at his side. There was a clatter as his gun fell from his hand onto the floor. He looked back up at Hannah and fell forward; the impact with the ground pushing a plume of dust upwards.
Hannah moved quickly towards Hoover, aimed at the back of the already dead man's head, and pulled the trigger twice more. The top half of his body jumped with each shot. She was gone before the smoke rising from the exit wounds had dissipated.
Dec 1, 2010 - Noon - CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia
"Bart, I think we have another Nerd Herd item," Brenda spoke softly into her phone. Brenda Collier was responsible for tracking the intel chatter streams and getting the data in human readable format for the analysts.
He loved hearing her voice when she got conspiratorial. "Oh yeah? Over lunch?"
"No, I think you better come over."
It must be good, he thought. She never called him over for it; they usually traded over lunch. He smiled broadly as he walked over to the tech side of the building. At 53, he had been retired from field work for a few years. He buried too many of his peers, so he was happy just being an analyst with a nice, safe, back office cubicle. He started dating Brenda on and off a little more than three years ago. To her credit, Brenda hung in there, waiting for him, and he eventually saw the light. Their superiors weren't happy about it, but let it slide as long as they kept it out of the office.
"What'cha got?" he asked as he came around to her side of the desk. He put his hand on the top of her chair and bent down to get a better look at her screen.
She turned her monitor a bit for him to watch. The little hairs on her neck tingled whenever he was close to her. But this time, the intel was a little ugly, and she felt a bit cold today. The construction crew doing renovation work on a building across the street from the Burbank Buy More had found a dead body. The proximity to the CIA sub-station had triggered the alert.
"Any pictures?"
She found two, both taken by the local crime scene photographer. The bullet wounds in the back of the head were clearly visible. He looked at her face and realized she was quite unsettled by what she saw.
"Whoa! Brenda, that's actionable. Send it over to Janice." Burbank was in one of her districts.
"I hope they're told about this. This time." She was a little ticked that some of the better intel they would dig up would get buried once it was sent up. Thinking about Shaw still made her skin crawl. She knew about his anniversary trips to Paris and tried to warn Janice and the General. But, they wouldn't listen.
"I'll follow up with Janice, and she'll slip it into their dailies, just in case."
Brenda exhaled slowly from a combination of frustration and concern for the people in Burbank. "I'm not that hungry any more. Can we go for a walk instead? We can catch up with Nerd Herd after work."
"Sure." He wanted to kiss her so badly, as much for himself as for her. "Let me go talk to Janice and I'll grab my coat."
Janice Timlin, at 39, was the third and youngest member of their Nerd Herd. Janice just finished her training as a field agent when her knees were shattered in a car accident. Fifteen years later, she still had a slight limp. She never returned to the field, but she was one of the best analysts on the floor. It was Janice who had nudged Bart into regarding Brenda as more than a fling.
"Mr. Michaels," she said with a wink. "Your nerd sent me some rather nasty pictures that might interest our friends in Burbank."
He smiled when she said 'nerd'. "Yeah, I know. I just wish we knew a little more."
Janice had started teasing him about his nerd a few years back. At the time, the first Buy More intel started to float across her desk and she shared it with him. "Hey, look a little familiar?" she had asked him with a grin. It was sketchy stuff at first, but the reports got a little better and Janice continued to give him peeks. It was a common practice between district analysts, but one that was repeatedly discouraged. She had even named their little band in honor of their heroes in Burbank.
They had watched, through various intel channels, the ups and downs of the Chuck and Sarah story. It was like watching a soap opera, but it was a shame they hurt each other so much. They almost openly cheered when they heard Shaw had gotten his ass kicked.
"Janice, the pictures upset Brenda, so we're skipping lunch and taking a walk. But we'll catch up with you after work." He smiled and went to his cubicle to retrieve his coat.
Castle
Mortensen entered the garage and flipped on the lights. She survived that? The wreck was ugly. There wasn't a piece of the Porsche's skin that wasn't marred to some extent.
He walked around the wreck, examining every dent and tear in the metal. He was amazed at how much damage the Porsche took and still Sarah got out with only a few scratches. He spotted a hole in the rim of the rear right wheel.
He took a few measurements and roughed out an estimate of a .50 caliber shot being used. Now it made sense, the tire had been obliterated leaving the driver with very little control. Sarah would have had to have stopped and would've been an easy target for a grab. Was it merely unfortunate events that prevented that? Or fortunate?
To Mortensen, the situation began to look more involved than they originally speculated. First Bartowski, then Grimes and Casey, and now Walker. They were trying to eradicate the team. But who is 'they'?
The Room
Mary was such a cute baby! All it takes is a smile. See, Kid?
What can I say about Casey? He was more than a friend, he was family and he will be missed.
Devon, I'm so sorry. It's going to be so hard for the kids to grow up without their Mom.
Mary's getting married? Already? I can't let her go, not yet.
You were right about children, Sarah. We should have had another.
It isn't so scary doing it with you.
Aw, Kid, you can't go first.
"SARAH!"
Unknown Location - Three months ago
The screaming made him lurch out of his seat and hit the panic button. It sent instructions to the IV to pump a sedative cocktail into the subject. The screaming stopped in the other room and the bright halogens above the chair came on revealing a young, thin brunette. She sat there unconscious, breathing softly. Her head lolled with sweat rolling off and onto her lap. Her hair, sweat soaked, hung down in front of her face, clumped together in thick, dripping strands.
A blank movie screen disappeared upwards with the slight sound of grinding gears. A man in a white lab coat approached her from behind and moved in a wide arc, stopping once he was directly in front of her. He moved closer to her.
"Hannah!"
Her head swayed just a bit in response.
He moved up closer and put a hand on her forehead pushing her head up. Gently, he spoke. "Hannah." A little more loudly. "Wake up!"
Her eyelids blinked a few times as her eyes rolled upwards, showing only the whites. She blinked and stared at the man. Her eyes focused and narrowed.
"I'm going to kill you!" she spat at him and shook her head, spraying him with sweat.
"Save it." He walked over to a table and took a towel from the neatly folded and stacked pile. He wiped his face and arms and returned to Hannah. He looked over to the large mirror on the wall and nodded. Hannah's breathing became shallower with the extra sedative.
He watched her for a moment and then rubbed her hair dry. "It's all over. Tomorrow, your mission begins."
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