A/N:
Fortunately, as you can see, it didn't take me a whole week to update. Things were more relaxed at work and this chapter practically wrote itself as well. In addition, I'd like to thank you for the warm welcome you gave this new story. But for now...

Chapter 2

"Nice to see you were able to make it, Ms. Walker."

She froze. "What did you just call me?"

"Ms. Walker. That's your name, isn't it? Sarah Walker? I know you are supposed to be Rebecca Franco here, but she doesn't really exist, just like Jennifer Burton, Katie O'Connell, Samantha Walters, Eva Anderson, Elana Truffaut and a few others. All these women are in reality you."

"How…?" To say that she was shocked would be a classic understatement.

"How do I know the name on your birth certificate? It's simple, actually. I work for the US government."

"Am I under arrest?"

"We're not the FBI, Ms. Walker," the second man said. "By the way, are you armed?"

"No," Sarah replied, dropping her bigger bag at her feet and throwing her handbag on the bed. She wasn't about to take off her overcoat to prove that she wasn't packing, as she was wearing nothing but a bra and a pair of panties underneath. She was still trying to process what she had just heard. The two strangers who were skilled enough to break into her room without her realizing it also knew her real name in addition to her various aliases. Sarah evaluated her options. These two men were obviously far more dangerous than the Italian cops. She could conceivably deal with one of them alone, but going up against them both at the same time was tantamount to suicide.

"You must be wondering why we bothered to look you up, since we are not law enforcement officers."

"Then you must be with the CIA," she said. She wasn't sure, but it was the only explanation even remotely close to making some semblance of sense.

The two men looked at each other and smiled. "You're very smart, Ms. Walker. Tell you what… Ms. Walker sounds way too formal. Can I call you Sarah?"

"It doesn't matter, I suppose. What can I call you?"

"My name is Carmichael, Charles Carmichael."

"And I am Bryce," the shorter man said.

"You can call me Chuck."

Before she could reply, there was a knock on the door. "It's open, buddy," Chuck called. The door opened and a short bearded man entered.

"I see we have a full house here. Hi, I'm Morgan."

"I didn't know parents named their kids Chuck or Morgan any more."

"My parents were sadists. As for Morgan, carnival freaks found him in a dumpster."

"But they raised me as one of their own," Morgan piped up, finishing the joke.

The levity was intentional and calculated, especially after Sarah unwittingly gave them an opening with her barb. They wanted to calm her down before making their offer.

"Enough joking around. What do you want from me?"

"We need your help."

"You have a very strange way of asking, Agent Carmichael."

"Did I mention that you'll also be well paid for your services?"

She ignored what he said for a moment. "Not to mention I have a very strong feeling that you were the one who ratted me out to the cops."

"It was a calculated risk. Did it work?"

"I am desperate enough to take you up on your offer, provided it's attractive enough. Otherwise, I'm willing to take my chances alone."

"Sarah, I believe you'll find the financial compensation most attractive. If you agree, you'll get the standard consultant's fee, in cash, plus a bonus if the venture is successful."

"And if I refuse?"

He handed her a manila envelope. Sarah opened it and found several glossy eight by ten photographs inside.

"Yes, they are photos of you casing your latest target. I believe you don't want them leaked."

The three men had her by the short and curlies, as she grudgingly admitted to herself. They also probably had a lot more evidence to prove that she was a thief with an illustrious career in grand larceny. In a US court of law, it meant twenty-five years to life behind bars. It would be a lot less in Italy, but it wasn't a pleasant option in any way. Not to mention that she'd stolen from the mob and other organized crime syndicates on several occasions. This alone would be enough for her not to leave any prison alive.

"You win, Carmichael," she said bitterly. "What do you want me to do?"

Chuck smiled. "As of right now, you're the newest employee of Carmichael Industries. Welcome aboard, Sarah."

"That's it?"

"We'll tell you more tomorrow. Right now, you should get some rest. You must be exhausted after today."

Bryce spoke up. "We'll also have to come up with a plan to get her out of the country. The cops she evaded must have an APB out on her by now, or whatever they call it here."

She glanced pointedly at her watch. "Nah, they're still asleep."

"They're bound to wake up sometime."

"So what? They won't remember a thing." She decided to be honest – for the moment. Chuck and his friends wanted to get her out of the country, which was fine by her. "I gave them something to wipe their short-term memory. Trust me when I say that they won't know what I look like when they wake up."

Chuck put two and two together. "So… it was you."

"Me?"

"Don't play coy with me, Sarah. You know what I'm talking about. Hand them over."

Her shoulders slumped in defeat. She reached slowly into a pocket and gave Chuck the box of twilight tranq darts. "Atta girl," he said. Then he rose. "My room is right next door, if you need anything. We'll talk again in the morning over breakfast, say… at ten?"

She nodded.

"Goodnight Sarah. And don't even dream about running."

"I gave you my word, Carmichael," she replied bluntly. "I'll do whatever you need me to do."

"Smart choice."

Morgan and Bryce also wished her goodnight and the three left her alone. Moving mechanically, she undressed, changed into her pajamas and got under the covers. But sleep remained elusive. Who could blame her? In one fell swoop her life was turned upside down. At least she wouldn't be seeing the inside of a courtroom and a prison – if she played her cards right.

Chuck was also awake in his room. His thoughts revolved around his current mission. He needed the services of a… specialized contractor to see it through, but he had certain private reservations about having Sarah help, or anyone for what the matter. It was a potentially dangerous assignment and he was loath to put civilians, no matter what their level of innocence, in harm's way. He prided himself in carrying out his orders with zero collateral damage and he resolved to keep her safe. As long as she was a member of his team, she deserved any protection he could provide her with. As he turned on his side, he heard something from next door. The balcony door was opening. Curious, he threw a jacket on and went outside to investigate. Sarah was out on her own side of the balcony, wrapped in a blanket, looking out at the street below.

"Couldn't sleep?"

"Huh?"

"I can't blame you. What got dumped on you today was pretty big."

She just snorted.

"Yeah, I know," he continued. "It's our fault and I'm trying to comfort you? Weird, I agree. But think about the money you'll make. It should put a smile on your face."

She turned to look at him. "You never did tell me how much."

So he did.

"How much again?" Sarah asked incredulously.

"Do you want me to repeat it?"

"No, I heard you the first time. But it's a lot of money."

"It's the standard fee paid to consultants on important matters. The bonus is nice too, fifty percent of the base fee, plus you get to keep anything you take for yourself."

"Gee, how can I refuse?"

"As an added incentive, I'll give you all proof we have of your illegal activities when the assignment is over."

"I'll hold you to that."

"I always keep my word, Sarah. Always."

"So do I."

He extended his hand over the frosted safety glass partition separating his room's part of the balcony from hers. "Then we have an understanding."

She took his hand in a firm grip. "We do," she confirmed.

"This calls for sort of a celebration." He dug into a pocket of his jacket and produced a small flask, which he offered to her. "To the success of our venture."

Sarah took it, opened it and toasted him. "To success." Then she took a swig of liquor, Jack Daniels Tennessee whiskey, as it turned out. It burned its way down her throat, but she liked it.

Chuck took the flask back and drank a little. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

-o-

At ten o'clock on the dot, Chuck knocked on the door to Sarah's room. She came out fully dressed and ready to face the music.

"Good morning."

"Hi," she returned the greeting.

"The others went to find us a quiet table downstairs. Shall we join them?"

"By all means," she replied. He gentlemanly offered her his arm and she took it, allowing him to lead her to the restaurant downstairs. If any of the hotel staff saw them, they'd simply assume that the dashing Signior Carmichael had scored with the beautiful Signorina Franco, and not give it another thought.

Bryce and Morgan greeted them and gestured for a waiter to come and get their order. To Sarah's surprise, Chuck pulled out a chair for her.

"An old fashioned gentleman… I'm impressed."

"Chuck's always like that," Morgan commented.

They ordered and for a few minutes ate their breakfast in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

"More coffee, Sarah?" Chuck asked.

"Uh, yes please."

He refilled her cup. "I believe it's time to talk about the job."

"What do you want me to do?"

"What you do best, of course: break into a place and retrieve something for us."

"Specifics?"

"You'll receive that information in due time. Right now everything is on a need to know basis," Bryce said.

"Fine by me," she shrugged.

"But we can tell you that we're leaving for Switzerland later today."

"So far so good. At least you're not taking me to some backwater third world country. I also love their chocolates."

"You're not the only one, Sarah. For now, let's talk about your cover."

"I'm listening."

"As I said last night, you'll be posing as an employee of Carmichael Industries. More specifically, you'll be my executive assistant."

"Not your 'girlfriend' or something along those lines?"

"No, I'm very respectful of women. And you're way too smart to play the part of an arm candy bimbo."

"I guess I can pull off the executive assistant routine."

"Judging by the commercial you filmed a while back, in college, you'd make an excellent actress."

"You remember that?"

"I went out and got two messy cheeseburgers right after watching it for the first time. I only realized this morning why you always looked so familiar."

"I'm flattered. Thank you."

"You are welcome. Back to the original subject, do you have a business suit in your luggage?"

"Uh, no. I'm supposed to be here as a tourist. And tourists don't exactly walk around in business suits."

"Well, you're gonna need a couple of them. After we're finished with our breakfast, I'm taking you shopping."

"Shopping?" Sarah echoed.

"You'll get some nice business suits, which will be paid for out of my expense account. It's for the cover."

"Okay. We'll go shopping."

So they did. First they all went to their respective rooms to pack. Then the CIA people reported to their boss on the progress of the assignment so far. Later, Chuck took her to one of the more upscale clothing stores, where they spent about an hour. She modeled a few business suits for him and they ended up purchasing two, one with a skirt and the other with pants.

"Listen," Chuck said as they exited the shop loaded with her purchases. "I know you probably despise me, but I'd like our time working together to be as friction-free as possible."

"For the money you're paying me, I can be the very spirit of cooperation."

"Excellent. Let's go get some coffee. We still have time to kill before flying out."

"Coffee?"

"Consider it another peace offering on my part."

"In that case, sure, why not?"

From his brief time in Rome, Chuck knew a nice quiet little café. He took Sarah there and they sat down at a table by the window. Just like earlier, he gentlemanly pulled a chair out for her to sit.

"Look, Chuck, I know you can't tell me what and where the target is. You have security to consider, but I'd like to know what I'll be up against. I may also need specialized equipment."

He smiled. She was finally calling him Chuck instead of Carmichael, which was great in his book. It meant that they were beginning to develop a rapport. "All you need to do is survey the target and tell us what you need. We'll take care of the rest. Besides that, the only thing I can tell you is that the target is a chalet."

"You mean whatever it is you want me to steal for you is in a chalet."

"Um, it's not just about us wanting you to steal something. It's mostly about finding a way in to do something extra as well."

"Are you going to tell me what it is, or is it need to know, too?"

"It's no big deal, really. I'm going in with you to take care of the other thing."

"It won't work, Chuck."

"Why not?"

"First of all, I work alone. And two, it totally changes the logistics. Third, the more people participate, the risks increase exponentially."

"I think you're assuming that we'll be splitting up once we get inside."

"It's the worst case scenario, Chuck."

"We won't be splitting up. My objective is in the same room as the safe."

"Okay. I suppose it doesn't matter now. I can figure a way in for two people – I hope. How good is their security?"

"Top of the line," he replied laconically.

She bit on a cookie and chewed on it, while he was sure he could hear the gears turning in her head. "Top of the line means nothing to me right now. I need specifics, if possible a thorough rundown on all security measures."

"I'll see what we can do."

"Deal. I can help, too."

"Since you're in, you're in. You'll be kept in the loop on everything pertinent to your part of the operation." His phone rang and offered a brief apology before answering. "It was Bryce," he said when he hung up. "We're good to go."

"Meaning?"

"We fly out in two hours."

"OK."

"That leaves me just enough time to go souvenir hunting."

"Are you serious?"

"I am. My place back home is full of souvenirs from my travels. What? Can't a guy like me be into collecting mementos?"

"Come on," she said smiling. It was the first real smile since meeting him and his team. Then she stopped in her tracks.

"Sarah, is anything wrong?"

"No, nothing."

"Tell me. If it affects the assignment, I need to know."

"See that guy over there?"

"What of him?"

"It's the detective I knocked out last night."

"But he doesn't remember you, from what you told me."

"Uh-huh."

"Just to be on the safe side, we'll go the other way."

-o-

Chuck was thinking about Sarah as they left the café. Her attitude was not what he expected. But then again, she was rather obviously caught up in the thrill of a heist. She might be resenting being coerced into working with him and his team, but she also viewed the whole deal as a challenge she couldn't resist, overriding her dislike of Agent Charles Carmichael.

The souvenir hunting side mission was short and sweet. After carefully depositing his purchases on the back seat of his rental car, he drove back to the hotel. Their luggage was soon loaded in the trunk and they were off to the airport, followed by Bryce and Morgan in their car.

"For a nonexistent entity, Carmichael Industries sure exudes an aura of wealth," Sarah said admiringly, seeing the beautiful Dassault Falcon 7X executive aircraft waiting for them on the airport's ramp outside the private section of the terminal.

"It's all part of a cover," Bryce informed her.

Once inside the aircraft they made themselves comfortable in the luxuriously furnished interior. The flight was not going to be long. As soon as they were airborne, Morgan reclined his seat and fell asleep. Bryce and Chuck followed suit. In their line of work sleep was precious and one learned to get some at every opportunity. Sarah admired the scenery from a window for a little while before she too decided to grab some shuteye.

Chuck woke her up ten minutes before landing and advised her to change into her new pantsuit. She went to the lavatory, from which she emerged in the recommended outfit. She soon realized why he had recommended it specifically. It was cold and rainy in Zurich. Once the formalities were over and done with, they went to pick up two cars and then drove to a nice chalet overlooking the lake.

"Do you like it?" Chuck asked her.

"Yes, it's beautiful."

"And most useful for us, too. Just pick a room."

"Okay. What did you mean by useful, Chuck?"

"You'll see," he replied cryptically. "But we were lucky to find it."

Being a very smart woman, she realized what he was talking about. "It's like the one we are going to break in to."

"Yep. It's not merely like it. It's its identical twin. We won't have to go to the trouble of renting a warehouse to build a practice course in."

She immediately started examining the place with an experienced eye. "There are many potential ingress points, assuming we can bypass or overcome the security measures."

"I'm perfectly content to leave the matter to you. That's what we hired you for anyway."

"Don't forget what I told back in Rome you about getting me everything you can on the target's security."

"I'm way ahead of you there, Sarah. Most of the data has been already compiled, plus we are going to create LIDAR and infrared imaging maps of the other chalet in order to pinpoint the exact location of security sensors and controls."

"You have everything under control, it seems."

"I certainly hope so."

"Guys, I'm going out for a while," Morgan informed them.

"Where is he going?" Sarah asked.

"Oh, he's going grocery shopping," Bryce told her.

"Can I get you anything, Sarah?"

"No, I can't think of anything right now."

"Okie-dokie. I'll bring pizza for dinner."

"I'd like a vegetarian with no olives, please," Sarah called.

"You don't like olives?" Chuck asked. "You don't know what you're missing."

"I don't like them cooked. But I love them raw."

"Suit yourself. Morgan, drive safe."

"I'll go take a room," Sarah said.

"Sure. Like I told you, pick any bedroom you like."

"Thanks. I'll be back here in a few minutes to talk shop."