A/N: Posted 8/6/11
It appears that this story has been getting a bump in readership since I started my other story; Chuck vs. The Three Day Tour. I never intended to neglect this story, but TDT would just not leave me alone so I had to face it head on and write it. Now that the last three chapters are finished, except for a scene near the end, and are ready for beta, I can get back to this story. Most of it is finished and sits on my hard drive. I just need to buckle down and get cracking.
If you are expecting Charah fluff, you won't find it here. This is a substantially darker, spy story. Frankly, it was getting harder to work on it, due to the less than stellar response. I know I've made quite a few mistakes, which I think I am learning from, but I still like the story idea. As I work my way through the material and fix the more egregious issues, I hope to have a much better read for you. And yes, I do intend to complete it.
However, there is a clock ticking as RL looks to be a real bear, leaving little time to write near the end of August into September. Damn writer's block chewed up the time when I had it. Soon time will be lacking. So it goes.
Many thanks to Patrick Murphy for his beta work. He really can turn cruft into the readable.
Dec 7, 2010 - The Room
I am the Intersect.
There was more conviction to his thinking.
How long have I been down here? Down? Or is it up?
Unfortunately, more conviction to his thinking meant contemplating different possibilities. She's going to stop looking if she doesn't know I'm alive.
How? It's getting harder to keep things straight.
They were doing things to him he couldn't really remember.
.
Burbank - Buy More
"CASEY!"
Why did I come in through the front doors?
Casey gave a bit of a growl as walked in the other direction to avoid Big Mike. Nothing against the man himself, but he just wished the whole Buy More would sink into a hole and disappear. Permanently. Then he caught sight of the morons…otherwise known as Jeff and Lester…and immediately tried to change course. Casey chose the lesser of two evils and headed to Big Mike's office. Or rather, Morgan's office. Casey had tried to mentally block the fact that Morgan was his cover boss now…unsuccessfully.
"Mike, what can I do for you?"
"Have you seen Chuck?"
"No. I believe he's still on vacation."
Big Mike thought about that for a second. "Hmmm…do you know if he still speaks to Hannah?"
Son of a bitch. This was something Casey didn't anticipate. He tried to keep a casual tone. "I'm not sure. Is she trying to get a hold of Chuck?"
"Well, a few days ago, a young man came into the store looking for Chuck. Or more precisely, trying to find Hannah," Mike explained.
Internally, Casey's alarms were screaming. If his facial expression changed, Big Mike's demeanor indicated he hadn't picked up on it. He continued to listen as he entered the office behind Big Mike, closing the door behind him.
"He had an address book he claims was dropped by a woman in the park. When he looked through it, he found Chuck's name in it with the store's name. I showed the man Hannah's old employee ID and he recognized her." Big Mike worked his way around to the other side of the desk and sat down. He opened the top drawer and retrieved the ID, book, and card. He looked up at Casey and held out the address book and the man's business card.
Casey reached for the items and was surprised when Big Mike did not release them.
"John, what's going on?"
Crap. "Why, what do you mean? What happened?" He knew what was coming and decided to sit.
Big Mike sounded more authoritative than Casey ever heard. "There've been way too many odd goings on around here in the past few years. It all started when you showed up. And you are not Buy More material." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk and looked intently into Casey's eyes. "You're a cop."
His eyebrows shot up. "What?" Casey instantly regretted reacting at all so he just stared at the man.
"You're a cop. I have enough of them in the family to tell." Casey held his stare.
Big Mike smiled. "I'm not a stupid man. A tad lazy perhaps, but not stupid. Look out there on the floor, John. Half of my crew looks like they would be more comfortable on the cover of GQ than working at the Buy More. And that just started a few months ago."
Casey stifled a grunt. He knew the rebuilt Buy More was simply a cover. Morgan had to point out it was working too well. Unfortunately, even after having the motley crew of morons who used to infest it return, it still wasn't a perfect cover.
Big Mike shook his head at Casey's silence and continued. "You. Sarah. Chuck. All cops." He brought his empty hand to his forehead at a realization. "Morgan as well?" He laughed. "That would make a lot of sense. That is one changed man. Let me guess; he's a rookie."
Big Mike studied Casey's reaction but got none. His eyes widened at another possibility dancing through his not-paranoid-enough mind. "Oh boy, I really stepped in it. You're a Fed." He paused a moment and lowered his voice. "Am I going to disappear?"
It was going to happen eventually. They all knew that Big Mike wasn't an idiot and it was their own fault. Casey almost let out a laugh as a small grin appeared on his lips. "No."
"Wait, you aren't all cops or I'm not going to disappear?" Big Mike was confused.
"No, you are not going to disappear. Yet." He bit down on his tongue; it was all Casey could do to not laugh out loud.
The large man gulped; the wish he had kept his mouth shut was quite visible on his face.
Now that he had Big Mike behind the proverbial 8-ball, Casey went in for the kill. "You're not going to disappear as long as you keep this to yourself."
He held out his hand for the address book. After a very long pause where Big Mike looked like he was on the borderline of soiling himself, Casey let him off the hook. "Mike, I was joking."
He looked at Casey as if he wasn't sure what part of what Casey said was a joke.
Fearing an endless loop but pleased the man would take only confusion away with him, Casey cleared his throat. "Well?" he asked as he snapped the fingers of his still outstretched hand.
Big Mike meekly handed over the address book along with the finder's business card.
Casey smiled, took the book, and stuffed it into his shirt's breast pocket. He got up and left with a nod to Big Mike. As he walked out of the Buy More, he decided to enter Castle through the back entrance. He was still chuckling to himself as he walked down the steps into Castle. Then he paused for a moment.
I'm gonna burn in hell.
.
Castle
"How about some lunch, Mortensen? I'd like to spend a little time with you and catch up. Then I have some things to attend to at home."
"Hey, John. Lunch sounds good. But let me go and get it." He smirked at John. "I just hope I don't burst into flames when I hit the sunlight."
"Great. There's a really nice sandwich shop in the mall. There should be a menu in one of the drawers."
Was it really three years ago? He wondered if she still had that sandwich. Out of respect for Chuck and Sarah, he never went back into the store.
…
"That's the coroner's report." Mortensen slid it across the main conference table to Casey. "Obviously she was dead with the first shot, but I asked him to provide a full toxicology report." He finished half of his sandwich and wrapped the rest. "That is a fine sandwich. The owner is a sweet girl, but she gave me a very odd look when I ordered it." Mortensen studied Casey for a moment. "Something tells me you pulled a fast one."
"Yeah, funny story that, but I'll tell it later." He picked up the report and opened it. "What's the skinny on what was done to Hannah?"
"Her system had trace amounts of several dozen different drugs. Some of them were quite sophisticated designer drugs and I've already sent some blood samples to our labs for detailed analysis."
Riordan Payne. Sarah might be right about him. He loved playing with drugs. "What's the turnaround on those tests?"
"A few days, at least. As I said, some of the drugs were quite complicated."
"Okay. And on my way down here, Big Mike gave me this." He pulled out Hannah's address book and tossed it over to Mortensen. "We'll have to check out everyone in that book. I'm thinking of giving a list of people to the coverts upstairs and let them do the leg work."
.
Chuck and Sarah's Apartment
Sarah searched the room Chuck and she used as an office inch-by-inch for any surveillance gear that might have been missed. Only two pieces were found: a camera and a microphone. They were both disconnected, but she yanked them out of the wall anyway and brought them out to the living room. She was quite disappointed in herself that she had missed them on previous sweeps. Was she losing her edge?
She dragged in several easels she had borrowed from Castle and set them up in her impromptu ready room. Suspended from the ceiling in the center of the room was a three-foot length of string. With the exception of the window, there wasn't an empty space on the walls; pictures, mission briefs and psych evals formed an almost-perfect wallpaper. There were numerous notes, handwritten with a red Sharpie, pinned to several of the documents serving as updates to information she had acquired since Chuck was abducted.
Sitting with her back against the wall between the window and the door to the room, Sarah stared at the other three walls of the room. She knew every word by heart, down to the slightest minutiae, including her plans for the next four days. Her flight left later tonight with a touchdown in D.C. around seven in the morning. She closed her eyes and imagined each of the streets she would need to cover, the equipment she would need at each house, and when Krang, Winslow, or members of their families were due back at their respective homes.
She knew she was going to a dark place and was stalling.
The growling in her stomach had continued, unabated, for the past hour. She remembered Ellie had brought something over to her the night before. Her 'sister' was concerned Sarah was not eating right, as her normally bright eyes were dulled and somber. But it wasn't from a lack of food; it was from a lack of sleep. The empty bed haunted her and brought Sarah nightmares, each worse than the last.
Sarah begrudgingly answered her stomach and went out to the kitchen. Poking around in the refrigerator, she found Ellie's care package and tossed it in the microwave without a look. As the seconds ticked down, she carried six empty boxes from her bedroom to the ready room.
The timer signaled the food was done. She entered the kitchen carrying the sheaf of papers she was reading and, without looking away from the words on the page, she opened the microwave and pulled the container out. She gave it a quick touch with a finger; was satisfied it was warm and licked her finger clean. She resumed reading the briefs as she fished out a fork from a drawer. She sent her hip into the drawer to shut it, grabbed the container and carried it back to the bedroom.
"Everything?" she asked the empty room. Did she have everything she needed?
She put the plate down on the nightstand, the only piece of furniture left behind by the Woodcombs. Sarah hurried back to her bedroom and dug through her jewelry box. She found them hidden in a lower compartment. 'They' were the 'rings' they'd used on the train from Paris when they went undercover for that 'one last' mission. She laughed out loud at the name: Mr. and Mrs. Charlie Charles. From Texas.
"How y'all doing?" she asked her jewelry with her best Texan accent.
The rings were nothing more than cheap curtain rings, but they were worth more to her than everything else in the jewelry box. She kissed the two rings and slipped them both on her left hand and allowed herself a smile. She removed the charm bracelet she was wearing and carefully laid it inside the box.
She patted the lid. "I'll be back. But I have to bring someone home first."
She pulled a heavy duffel bag from her closet and hoisted it onto her shoulder. She picked up a roll of tape from the desk on her way out. And from the printer, she grabbed a waiting 8x10 of Chuck and headed back to the ready room. She spoke softly to it, almost as if he could hear.
"I need an angel to sit on my other shoulder."
She closed the door behind her as she entered, moving to the center of the room and reached up to the string. Dropping the duffel bag, she stuck the picture between her lips and broke off a few pieces of tape, then secured the string to the back of Chuck's picture and let it hang freely. Slowly turning, the picture seemed to be taking in everything Sarah had done.
She knew the content of each item by heart, but was hoping for one of those Chuck moments where he saw the whole picture and found an answer.
How does he do it? The answer was here. It had to be.
Staring at the pictures, stuck one to an easel, she felt her level of frustration rising. Agent John Roberts. Hannah Rusk. Riordan Payne - most likely. DDs Krang and/or Winslow.
A finger twitched against a non-existent gun. Her left hand reached behind her back and pulled out a small blade. Eyes narrowing, she slowly took a step backwards.
Screw what I promised Casey. Another step backwards. I am going to kill them all and leave their bodies to rot.
The memory of seeing that finger in Barcelona came back to her. No matter that it turned out not to be Chuck's. She took another step backwards.
It hit her in the back of the head and then swung crazily outwards and then back into the side of her face. She flailed wildly at it with her knife, slicing at it. The bottom half of Chuck's face, cleanly cut from the picture, fluttered quickly to the floor.
"No!" she screamed out. She flung her knife at the wall, sticking it in a random spot. She dropped to her knees and scooped up the fallen piece. Her eyes were wet. "See, I told you I needed you."
How long would that angel on her shoulder hold sway? She allowed herself a moment to regain her composure and then stood up.
Sarah took one of the empty boxes she brought in and laid it on the floor by the door. Slowly she took each item off of the wall, read it for the last time, and placed it in the box. An hour later she had all evidence of what she had been doing secured and sealed in boxes.
.
The Room
He'd been following her for several hours now. He clung to the wall, using the darkness, keeping his target in view. Chuck thought he had trailed her without her knowing, but he must have slipped up. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes while cursing his ineptness. He knew better than this.
She was standing in front of the park bench under the street lamp when she bent down, pretending to pick up something she had dropped. Sarah felt for the gun in her coat pocket and pulled it out as she stood back up. She turned to face her pursuer.
He had his gun out and trained at her forehead. A smaller target, but a kill shot.
She had her gun out and trained at his forehead. A smaller target, but a kill shot.
He had his orders. His finger slowly squeezed back on the trigger. Why can't I…
His world turned a bright white.
.
Dec 8, 2010 – 5:00 AM - Unknown Medical Facility
The final truck rumbled out of the parking lot carrying the last of the temporary medical facility's equipment. The sign across the side of the truck said Intersect Systems, but since it was a stolen truck, it wouldn't have mattered if anyone had witnessed its departure to the north.
Five minutes later, the truck headed for the Interstate. On the way, it passed the Burbank Buy More.
.
Payne's Medical Facility
Payne fumbled for the phone as it rang on the small table by the cot.
"Yes?" He rubbed his brow with the palm of free hand. "Good. Keep me up to date. We are in the new facility now and you can kick Krang loose." He listened for a bit. "That's great news."
Both of them have been eliminated. Good. "Fine, but I want the surveillance videos cleaned up for a visual confirmation."
.
7:00 AM - Washington, D.C. - Dulles Airport
She slept in fits on the flight from Burbank. Her nightmares repeated, with minor variations, throughout the flight. But for the first time in her professional life, they scared her. Not just the nightmares themselves, but the memories of what Chuck had gone through for her. Mauser, Chuck's red test, Shaw in Paris. And the things she had done before Chuck. Things that, only now, shamed her.
How would Chuck react to what she might have to do? She told herself she was doing it for him, but that didn't allay her fears.
I'd rather have you alive and not forgive me. But please, Chuck, please forgive me.
The plan was simple. She was going to case Winslow's and Krang's various residences, return under cover of night, and collect the evidence. Then drag whichever bastard was responsible back to Castle. This was not to be a killing spree, she told Casey. Four days is what she would need. She had a small plane waiting for her.
For her plus one, she hoped and prayed.
.
Afternoon - Courtyard
Ellie heard coughing come form the Courtyard and went to take a look. Oh. My. God!
Her eyes widened at the sight of Carina standing outside of John's apartment banging a small carpet against a wall. Carina was barefoot, her long, lean legs stretching forever up into a perfectly rounded ass covered by the shortest of shorts, the front pockets peeking out below where the old pair of jeans had been cut.
She had on an almost too tight white t-shirt. But could they ever be too tight? The bottom of the shirt was bunched and pulled through the top of the shirt. She was not wearing a bra and the sweat-laced cotton clung to the contours of her breasts.
Completing her incredible house cleaning fashion choices was a pair of rubber yellow dishwashing gloves. She wiped her reddish hair from her damp forehead with and exposed part of her arm as she turned to go back inside. Carina looked up and over at Ellie and smiled.
I hate that woman, Ellie thought to herself. She felt fat and bloated. And ashamed. Ashamed for feeling jealousy. For being fat and ugly, and God help her, for feeling aroused.
That's a first, she thought and tried to shake it off. Well, not quite a first. She smirked. It must be the hormones. Yeah, that's it. When in doubt, blame the hormones.
"Carina, got a minute?" she called over.
"Sure!" Carina struggled with and finally pulled a glove off, turned it inside-out and started on the other. "I'm almost finished here and I have coffee up. Decaf, by the way." She turned and walked back in John's apartment.
Ellie followed her in. "Decaf? Really? I thought all spies drank turbo-charged coffee." Sarah certainly seems to.
"I've already had quite a few pots of the regular stuff." Carina was at the sink washing her hands as Ellie entered. She flashed Ellie a huge smile. "You're looking good."
"You've got to be kidding!" Her eyes narrowed as her hatred for the woman seemed to double.
Frowning she looked at Chuck's sister. "What's the matter?" She grabbed a dish towel, dried her hands, and re-hung it to dry. She opened a cabinet door and brought out two mugs.
"Never mind. Let me ask you a question. Do you always wear that when you clean the house?" I'll kill her if she doesn't know how she looks.
Carina blushed at the feeling of being caught. "I've never housecleaned before. Is there something wrong with what I'm wearing?" She poured coffee into both mugs. "Milk?"
ARGH! Never mind! Enough of this! She exhaled sharply and found her normal speaking voice. "Yes, please." She pulled a chair out from the kitchen table and sat down. "Whew. My feet are killing me."
Placing a mug in front of Ellie, Carina pulled out another chair. "Give me your feet," she ordered while holding a hand out.
Ellie stared at her in stunned silence. What the hell? This isn't the Carina Chuck and Sarah told me about.
"Ellie?" Carina prompted with her hand still extended.
"I don't think you want to touch these feet. They smell to high heaven!'
"Yeah," Carina responded sarcastically. "And I'm Martha Stewart."
Oh, you are so going to die! Ellie couldn't help but think.
"Ellie, trust me; I've done far worse for the team. Besides, I don't exactly smell like roses myself at the moment. So give me those feet," Carina gave Ellie a mock angry face. "Or I swear I will shoot you." The movement of fingers of her outstretched hand said 'give'.
Ellie relented, kicked off her sandals, and lifted her feet, one at a time, into Carina's waiting hands. Carina shifted her weight and pulled Ellie's feet onto her lap and gently pressed her thumbs into the arches. She then ran those thumbs down to the balls of Ellie's feet.
Ellie closed her eyes and moaned in relief. "Oh damn! That's better than sex!"
They looked at each other and shared a knowing glance. "Nah," both said at the same time before cracking up.
Her calf muscles jerked periodically as Carina hit the right spots. "Did the CIA teach you how to do that?" Ellie inquired.
Carina laughed. "First off, I'm DEA, not CIA. And secondly no, they didn't teach me that. I come from a rather large working class family. We know sore feet."
They settled back into a comfortable silence with Ellie having forgotten her reason for being there. Not that she cared, given Carina's hands were working magic on her feet.
She didn't realize her eyes were closed until Carina interrupted her. "How's Morgan doing?"
Ellie exhaled. "Better. He was drinking an awful lot and not sleeping. The nightmares were starting to scare me."
"Sarah and I talked about him the other day," Carina confided. "Killing someone affects everyone differently, but booze usually helps those first couple of days. Although as a doctor, I'm sure you'd recommend against that. And then you have the problem of getting off the booze."
"Alex has been with him throughout this ordeal, and she has helped him recover." Ellie opened her eyes and took a deep breath. "He still doesn't want to see Sarah or John, but that might be guilt from what he said to them at the beach."
"It's good to hear Alex is having a positive effect on him."
"Yes." Ellie stared at the front window. She hesitated, since she was uncertain how to talk about what she really needed to say.
"Ellie, you wanted to talk to me about something?" Carina asked as she sensed Ellie's unease.
She picked up her mug and took a sip. "Hmm…yes, actually. Sarah filled me in on what you were doing. I just wanted to thank you for everything."
She smiled at Ellie. "I love that guy and I want to see him come home. I know what he means to Sarah and John."
"Are we secure here?"
Carina eyes went wide. "What do you mean? Safe?" What has Sarah been teaching her?
"I mean, is the surveillance on in this room?"
"John killed his and does regular sweeps. Why?"
"I'm worried about Sarah, and I don't know who else to talk to."
"Umm...the way I understand it, you're the team shrink. They all go to you." Carina rolled her eyes at her own gaffe. "Oh, yeah, then who would you go to?"
Ellie nodded smiled. "How is Sarah doing?"
Carina sat back in her chair and became lost in thought. The normal twinkle in her eyes faded. "She misses Chuck in an awful way. He kept her grounded, and now…I think she feels lost."
With a sad sigh Ellie nodded in agreement. She felt like she was standing in quick sand. This spy world of her brother was sucking her in deeper. What choice did she have, she would do anything for Chuck.
.
Dec 9, 2010 - The Room
Start small. Mr. Colt.
Chuck smiled to himself. I liked him. He had a sense of humor, but not exactly what you would call small. He was a mercenary, but it was never personal.
No, no, they will confuse that with the Intersect. It doesn't matter. I just need to cause chatter. Get someone's attention.
Ah, smugglers. Peyman Alahi or Stavros Demetrios?
Diamonds are a girl's best friend. He took delight at that thought.
I never asked her. I kept waiting for the perfect moment. He wanted to scream.
Bart, please be listening. Help Sarah.
.
Dec 9, 2060 - The Room
He awakened. Still tired. Still feeling old.
A baby cried outside. He smiled broadly. Sarah! Not his Sarah, but his granddaughter. He remembered now.
"Sarah!"
"Yes, Grandpa?"
"Come to me!"
She moved towards the bed and reached for the chair. "Oh! Can I see my baby boy?" Sarah brightened and motioned for the nurse to bring the baby over. The nurse gently placed the baby in his arms as Sarah helped him to sit up.
"Aww, Charlie, why are you crying? Don't you like your great-grandpa?" The old man had a huge infectious smile, calming the baby immediately. The little boy began cooing. And the desire to smile spread to his granddaughter.
The old man turned to Sarah. "Did I ever tell you about your mother, Mary?"
"No, Grandpa. Tell me." Sarah sat on the bed, taking the baby in her arms.
He leaned back as the tears flowed unabated. Sarah leaned in and wiped his tears away. She gave him a gentle kiss on his forehead.
He sighed. "Mary cried a lot those first few months. Just like you. My Sarah, she just couldn't calm her." He stopped. He blinked. He tried to speak, but he faltered for a moment before he finally found his voice.
"Your Aunt Carina was such a troublemaker," he said with a gleam in his eye. It was water under the bridge now, of course. "She worked for the government, too, and she asked us for help to capture a drug smuggler. I think his name was Peyman Alahi."
Chuck looked down at his little great-grandson, smiled, and continued his story. "He was such a hairy guy; he looked like a Wookiee." He looked at his granddaughter. "Do you remember those movies?"
She smiled at him. "Of course! They just released another collector's edition with all nine episodes. They restored all the scenes Lucasfilm had to cut because of the anti-violence lobby. It looks so much better."
"I'd like to see them again." He looked at the small boy in his arms. "With Charlie, of course." The child was fast asleep. "I just don't know if I will be around long enough."
"Don't say that!" She stroked the old man's hair. "You were telling me about Alahi and his big diamond."
"Oh, yes, of course." He smiled as he continued. But, I didn't mention the diamond yet, did I?
.
Late Morning - Castle
"Yes, ma'am. Thank you. I'll let John and Sarah know immediately."
He hung up the phone and laid it down on his desk. The two stand-in agents were murdered in Heidelberg. The explosives eliminated virtually all-organic trace of the agents when they had entered the facility.
He thought about this development for a moment, the explosives seemed to suggest NSA involvement. And they, whoever they were, were still after Casey and Walker.
.
Early Afternoon – Washington, D.C.
It took a while for the phone at the other end to start ringing. The delay made Sarah a tad nervous, but she shook it off. Assume they are listening to everything, she reminded herself.
"Ellie? Yeah, it's me." Sarah laughed into her phone. "I don't have much time, but I wanted to give you a heads-up. Tomorrow, you should be getting an overnight package. Could you prepare a psych eval on the person in that file?" She nodded. "A day or two. I'm collecting intel, nothing risky," she lied. "Okay, see you then."
Sarah squeezed her eyes shut after hanging up. She reflected back on the months since Chuck and she openly dated. Openly. They'd tried it her way for over two years with painful results. But once they promised to be open and honest with each other and the family, things worked so much better. Now, without Chuck, she was alone and slipping back into her old ways. She depended on Ellie for so much. So why was it so easy for her to lie to her 'sister'? She would have to fix that as soon as she got back.
Chuck would not be pleased to know what his sister had been up to in the months since they brought down the Ring. He blew a gasket when he found out Ellie would be read into the mission, albeit in a limited capacity providing medical assistance to the team. Chuck objected to the idea from the beginning but soon realized his sister and brother-in-law were safer not being kept in the dark. After all, as frightened as Ellie was, she showed she had the capacity for this business. Morgan, Devon, and she saved the team from Shaw on that desolate mountain road.
Since then, Casey had taken Devon and his daughter under his wing, teaching them the basics of spy craft, if for no other reason than to protect themselves. Alex spent all of her free time with her newfound father and made him proud. On the other side of the coin, Devon had very little time to spare because of his job but made the most of it when he could. It had become personal for him. His wife was expecting and he had to protect the family. And Morgan, bless his heart, learned his lessons well and helped with the training. Even Casey had to admit he'll make one hell of an analyst for the team. His technical training from Chuck had already put him ahead of Casey when it came to the computer, and it fell to him to provide Alex with the same training.
Much to Casey's chagrin, the amount of time those two spent together meant Morgan's relationship with Alex kept growing. So did the tension between father and boyfriend. Everyone worked on Casey's resolve until he finally caved. Well, that's how Casey saw it, anyway. But at least the relationship between the three was well-established and unambiguous.
You break her heart; I break your everything.
Ellie made full use of her time in Castle since being part of the team. She studied the medical files on the team and was horrified by some of the injuries they sustained. She even confronted Sarah about what her baby brother had been exposed to, which caused a rift between them. But because Chuck was able to discuss more of his life with his sister, she began to understand the situation for what it was. Sarah was there to protect her brother from the world the Intersect brought down on him. Sarah didn't put Chuck in harm's way but used every skill she had to keep him from harm. Ellie and she grew closer once Ellie knew more about what was going on. The whole 'it's complicated' nonsense, as Ellie deemed it, wasn't nonsense at all. Sarah was just as broken as Chuck, and the two of them were growing and healing. Ellie never came out and said it, but with her help Sarah figured it out. Ellie was right; Sarah was a broken person for the longest time. And in many ways, she still was. But now she had a sister to share with and confide in.
Sarah was amazed at Ellie's ability to read a brief on a mark and come up with a strong psych eval. Obviously, her skills hadn't yet been used for a mission, but Sarah had given Ellie 'assignments' on adversaries they'd dealt with in the past and her evals were spot on. The last such assignment was a slightly-redacted file on Daniel Shaw. If Ellie had done her write-up when he first showed up a year ago, most of the mess she created with Shaw never would have happened. And Chuck would have been spared all that pain she caused him.
Hannah. Sarah exhaled slowly in frustration. She blamed herself for that. She pushed him into her arms. It never would have happened and that poor…yeah, that poor girl…would still be alive. And Morgan wouldn't hate her for what he had to do ten days ago.
Sarah shook her head. In all likelihood, there were would have been a different kind of mess. The price would have been paid one way or another. Somehow, things worked out for the best for both the country and her team. And, of course, for Chuck and her.
Ellie and Sarah still fought from time to time. The last time over her lost baby. And Sarah still hadn't told Chuck. And that started to eat at her.
.
The Room
Chuck chased his target down between the railroad tracks. He lost her for a moment in the darkness as they ran between the parked freight trains. He held his arm out, gun in hand, waiting to get his shot in.
She turned her head to see where he was. That was a mistake. She should have known by the sound of his footsteps on the gravel how close he was. She slipped and fell, the light from the station shone on her from between the cars.
He approached her, slowing down from a run to a walk, his gun still trained on her. He saw her reach for her gun, hidden at the bottom of her pant leg.
"Sarah, don't. It doesn't have to go this way."
She had her gun out and raised it towards him.
"If I bring you in, we can protect you. Think, damn it!"
He heard a shot ring out and his world went bright white.
.
Late Night - Winslow's Apartment
Completely covered in dark grey from head to toe, she was nothing more than a shadow under the night's full moon. She quickly made her way down the street. If she could get in and out without attracting attention, she could stave off a body count. She didn't care about the actual bodies; only the attention they would attract.
Getting in was easy. Chuck had taught her how to bypass the more advanced CIA security systems. Thank God Chuck ignored the warnings about hacking company equipment. It had become a hobby of sorts for him. Unless there were additional measures she failed to see, she would be able to observe the Deputy Director.
With each passing minute, she knew the chances of her being discovered increased. She told herself she didn't give a crap. If it came to it, she would end who ever tried to stop her.
An hour had passed since she got in and she found nothing of any value to her search. None of the addresses had turned up any useful intel on Chuck. But she had determined beyond a doubt Winslow was dirty. The man was selling secrets to the Chinese. Not what she was looking for, but that intel would magically turn up on Beckman's desk in the morning.
She heard a creak on the wood floors outside of Winslow's office. There was a hand on the doorknob turning it slowly. She quickly went to the closet and pulled the door closed behind her, leaving it open just a crack. She pulled out her handgun, its silencer already in place. Every muscle in her body tensed as she prepared for her imminent discovery.
The footsteps were getting closer. Someone was trying, and not very well, to quietly approach the closet door. And they would get a bullet for their troubles. She could hear breathing. Her finger was ready.
"Daddy?" A little girl's voice called out.
Oh, fuck me! Don't…open…that…door!
"Amanda! Get out of there this instant and get back to bed!" a woman's voice scolded. Sarah heard the little feet run out of the office, saw the light go out a few moments later and heard the office door being shut.
She listened for a few minutes, decided everything was clear, and opened the closet door. Sarah slowly made her way back to the window behind the desk, leaving the way she came in. Hopping over the railing of the veranda, she hit the ground and rolled, came back up on her feet, and ran towards the street. She kept running until her lungs were screaming at her. Her face was still covered and she pawed at the material, yanking it off of her head. She slowed down and finally stopped by a fence, hiding in its shadows.
She fell to her knees and threw up. I could've killed that little girl.
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Dec 10, 2010 – 2:00 AM – CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia
Bart was determined to be there the moment there was a shred of useable intel. The problem was, he didn't know what it would look like or where it would come from. He switched back to the chatter logs, waiting for the smallest piece of evidence of where Chuck might be. Brenda was asleep in the visitor's chair in his cube. Brenda and he had taken the night shift while Janice, Cristoph and Jamie took the day shift. Now he started to worry perhaps they were spread a bit thin. They weren't even sure there would be anything. What if they had already missed something?
"Come on, Chuck. Talk to me!" he yelled at his monitor. He was annoyed with himself as much as with Chuck. Bart hoped that Chuck would come up with that little bit of magic he always seemed to conjure on his missions. 'Thinking outside of the box' was an Agent Carmichael trademark.
He stood up and paced the halls just to stretch.
Did we forget something?
Bart stretched his arms over his head. He could still feel the reason he quit field work in his lower back.
What the hell would I do?
A bullet. It nagged.
I'd assume that Team B went silent. And they have.
A hollow-tipped bullet.
That would mean anything coming through, be it information requests or updates, would be unauthorized. Feed them anything. A name, a place, even the odd object. What?
"Too bad it wasn't a tranq gun," he said to the empty hallway. Alert triggers…did we add vacations?
He walked back to his desk and checked through the triggers. He smirked. I feel like a stalker. I know way too much about them. He stopped. Paris was close. Too close. He put the thought out of his mind. Ah…no Grand Canyon. He added 'Grand Canyon' to the list. "What about Route 66? I'll add it and filter later," he muttered to himself. A few more keystrokes and he was finished.
Brenda stirred. "Did you say something?"
"Yeah, sorry. We didn't add their vacations to the triggers." He leaned over towards Brenda. "Nothing has popped up yet." He kissed the top of her head. "Feel like dinner?" He checked his watch. "At 3AM?"
"I'll put it together. When I get back, you can take a nap."
"No. I'm used to this. But, no more napping for you, either. You have to get your clock adjusted to the hours. They're gonna need us."
She nodded, yawned and walked off to the kitchen. Bart went back to staring at the screen. He was hoping something…anything…would kick in to help the team. But the frustration kept mounting.
Chuck, I really need your help. I've gone through everything we ever talked about, but I can't think of anything new. We got lucky with Shaw.
He smiled. No one knew about his indiscretion, not even Brenda. Brenda had put the pieces together but no one listened.
A phone call to Chuck had changed everything.
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Unknown Location
Shepherd: wolf?
Wolf: y
Shepherd: anything?
Wolf: nothing
Shepherd: krang's ex has a place in la
Wolf: address
.
The Room
There were a lot of things Chuck could not remember them doing to him. But the bright white flashes were painful and they left him with a feeling of great loss.
During his lucid moments, his resolve to kick at the side of the beast increased. Make them trip up and take a look, he told himself. Set off an alert. Anything to let his team know. He was in a deep dark hole and all he had was a pipe to the outside world to bang on.
But he felt like he was playing in the final inning, the bases were loaded and there were two outs. And he didn't know the score.
And he just realized that he really hated all these stupid analogies. Allegories? Metaphors?
Next up, Karl Stromberg. Weapons Smuggler.
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Dec 10, 2060 - The Room
"Sarah!"
"Yes, Grandpa?"
"Come to me!"
"Did I ever tell you about your mother, Mary?"
"No, Grandpa, tell me." Sarah sat on the bed, taking the baby in her arms.
"Karl Stromberg. He was a weapons smuggler."
.
Late Night - Krang's Townhouse – Los Angeles
Sarah watched the house from across the street and wondered how the hell a DD for the CIA could afford a home that had to be worth at least several million. And why would he pick something surrounded by those who craved publicity? Then again, it did belong to his ex-wife.
Whatever. It would be on the market soon enough. The current owner wouldn't need it anymore.
Tonight, her tactics would be different. A few doors down from the house, Ellie's soccer-mom van was parked. It fit in well with the other cars on the street; more so than the team's surveillance van. The back sliding door was left open and the dome lights were turned off.
She stood on the other side of the street a few doors down and waited. And waited.
A dark limo pulled up in front of the house and DD Krang had the door open before his driver could get out. Sarah could hear him wishing the driver a good night just before he shoved the door closed. As the limo pulled away, she pulled her headgear down over her face, double-timed it across the street towards Krang and stopped a few yards behind him.
"Krang."
The beefy man turned around, looked at the diminutive ninja, and almost laughed. "Walker." Then he noticed the gun.
"Inside. Slowly." She made a flicking motion towards the van with her gun.
"You do realize you're in quite a bit of trouble, young lady?"
"Nowhere near the trouble you're in," Sarah replied evenly
"And whose word do you think they are going to take, that of a deputy director or a rogue agent that has fallen in love with her asset? Man, that sounds so cheesy, like an after school special. Kidnapping a federal official is a felony."
Rogue? What does he know? How does he know? "Indeed it is. What did you think you'd accomplish by taking Agent Carmichael?" Keep talking, jackass. I beg you to keep talking.
"Agent Carmichael? Please. He's a CIA asset. Nothing more. I've merely appropriated him, just like I would a laptop or a helicopter."
"He's had full agent status for almost a year."
Krang's eyes flared. "Agent Walker, do you have any idea how dangerous that man is? I warned them! Time and again I told them the risks! I just needed to show them their folly."
Sarah smiled, "Casey, did you get all that?" She heard an affirmative grunt in her earpiece. She tucked her gun behind her and waited for the DD to move. Or for the DD's move. She hoped the latter.
"Don't insult me, Walker. I know you went off the reservation."
"Like I said, Deputy Director, get inside and do it slowly."
Krang started laughing again until he saw movement in the doorway of the van. "Colonel Casey." Casey steely glare bore holes in Krang, just like the Sig Sauer P226 in Casey's hand potentially could if Krang didn't get in the van. He nodded and started to move towards the van.
He then veered off to go after Sarah.
That was a mistake. He gave Sarah the 'just cause' she was hoping for; she delivered the strongest kick she could from a wind up. Krang fell to his knees howling in pain as he held his groin. She stepped back and delivered a roundhouse to the man's head, sending him sprawling. Krang fell to the ground unconscious with one hand holding his head and another over his groin.