A/N: Two days ahead of schedule, which has become quite common for me to do by now, a new chapter. A warm welcome to the new readers and followers and thank you to those who have favorited this story. Also thank you to the reviewers.
However there is something I'd like to mention beforehand, as this is not the first story I have written: I know my writing style and to prevent the chapters going on and on, I have put some restrictions on it. Like a word limit, which I have set between 3,000 and 4,000 words, because I'd never get any chapter finished if I didn't. This means that I might cut corners, sometimes unintentionally because of an oversight and sometimes simply because I will come to back to it in a later chapter.
Understanding perfectly that one cannot please all the readers, I do want to ask that if you have issues with this story and put it into a review, that you will keep it constructive. Simply tearing into it doesn't really do wonders for any writer's spirit.
fezzywhigg: Thanks.
Molotov: You pointed out a few smaller things that might apparently not be all too clear for the reader, like Chuck's CIA status, so thanks for that. I will deal with those issues if and when I see fit.
pizza: Happy to hear you think it's awesome, and, indeed, that was one of the reasons why I did pick Zondra. Amy was a little too ditzy for my taste (even if she was the traitor after all) and Carina has a different role to play. And you're spot on with the version of Chuck, with smidges of earlier seasons Chuck added to it, I took as the starting point.
As always, reviews are most welcome and very much appreciated... Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own 'Chuck'.
Realizing that the shit was about to hit the proverbial fan, he jumped to his feet and muttered an apology. He raced after his CIA colleague, with the asset and the bearded imp close behind.
He reached the gate of the apartment complex just in time to see two unfamiliar men, Zarnow's henchmen no doubt, push an unconscious Bartowski in the backseat of a black sedan. The man standing at the open door on the driver's side, he did recognize: Doctor Zarnow.
"Good to see you again, Agent Casey," the man said smugly.
"Gorramit, the idiot was right," he admitted with a low grumble before he felt a sharp sting in his left shoulder.
"Sir," the bearded imp was right at his side to support him when his knees began to buckle and his mind began to spin.
"Damn tranq dart," he growled groggily. "Sam, get the car!"
There was no reaction.
"Sam!" He barked angrily, turning slightly to see she was coming out of a flash. "The car!"
"I know his secrets... He-He's been feeding American science to North Korea for years," she summarized.
He grunted annoyed; he should and could have known. If Bartowski was the first, though be it unofficial and unconfirmed, Intersect. Something he had started to suspect yesterday after the idiot's sudden headache upon seeing Zarnow, which could have been a flash. Then it would make sense that the asset would do so too. The strong similarity between headache and flash strengthened his suspicions about the CIA-nerd.
"That's great," he growled. "Now stop wasting time... And get the car before we lose them."
Odd. His eyes narrowed to slits in wonder when he saw the four take off after muttered apologies. There was definitely something weird going on.
He looked at their hostess, who answered with a single shrug of her shoulders, like it was no surprise to her to have a dinner party end like this.
"What did you say your brother does for a living?" He asked.
"He worked for a software company. Not sure why he took a job at the Buy More, but I won't complain if it means I get to see him more," she answered slowly before taking another bite of a mini quiche.
She knew more, he was convinced of it, but without any shred of evidence there was no way for him to push for answers. He would have to take matters into his own hands the next best opportunity, and find out what the hell was going on.
A deep snort of contempt and disagreement escaped her while she watched out the window after being ordered into the backseat. Since she felt responsible for this situation, she had insisted on coming along and had threatened to take the Nerd Herder Three to follow if not allowed. With Chuck's friend at the wheel and Casey in the passenger's seat, she had time and space to reflect.
She felt terrible, and it was not just because of the flash. If she had given Chuck the benefit of the doubt, had not listened to Casey, and had continued to try and trust Chuck, maybe he would not have been taken by the traitor Zarnow.
That little bit of knowledge made it even worse; she had put a nearly blind faith in someone who had been betraying his country by selling science secrets to an enemy nation for who knows how long.
"Damn Bartowski," Casey grumbled in his seat. "Keep your distance, Grimes. About thirty feet. Much closer, and you increase the chance to get made. Too far, and you increase the chance to lose the target... Don't they teach you anything at the Academy?"
"The Academy?" Chuck's friend clearly baited Casey.
"Or whatever you call it in the CIA?"
"I'm CIA?" Grimes exclaimed with faux surprise.
"Urgh!" Casey grumbled.
It brought a faint smile to her face.
"I never went to Langley, you see. They recruited Chuck and I came with the package," Morgan explained.
She could not entirely make out what Casey was growling under his breath, but from what she did understand, it did not bode well for Chuck and Casey. Choosing to ignore the back-n-forth between Casey and Grimes, she withdrew in thought. Based on what she knew now, she felt that she would need to make up her mind real soon about the course of her future. It would be another sleepless night, not because of the Intersect, but because of the decisions she had to make short term.
Nevertheless instead of forcing it now, she decided it was better to leave her deeper thoughts be and focus on their current situation.
"Dim the lights," Casey instructed their driver when they turned onto a dirt road, leading to an abandoned shack. "Stop here."
Morgan stopped the car and killed the engine. She leaned forwards between the front seats and watched as Zarnow apparently told his henchmen what to do with Chuck as they dragged him into the shack.
She listened as Morgan made his case for a stealthy approach as to where Casey thought it was the best idea to immediately intervene with guns blazing.
"So what do you think, Sam?" Morgan asked, pulling her into the discussion without hesitation.
The sharp scent of ammonia directly under his nose brought him back from the blissful nothingness. He shook his head violently, trying to get his bearings, and found himself strapped to an iron chair with duct tape. Had the duct tape been on sale somewhere? Even his mouth was covered with it.
"Ah, Agent Bartowski, welcome back," Dr. Zarnow sneered. "Did you really think you could try and pull the wool over my eyes?"
"Hrmbfmph."
"Like I wouldn't figure out that you're Patient X, the human Intersect?"
He rolled his eyes. Technically the doctor was not wrong in his assessment, but his Intersect was kind of useless and unpredictable to boot.
"You are going to make me a filthy rich man once I sell you off to the highest bidder," Dr. Zarnow smirked. "Normally I'd sell you to North Korea, but I'm sure that you will fetch me much, much more on the open market."
He mumbled into the duct tape again and let out a deep breath through his nose. It was really going to hurt when all the tape would be removed, like a band aid and then a lot worse.
"I suggest you make yourself comfortable, Agent Bartowski, because, unless I get an offer that I simply can't refuse, you won't be going anywhere anytime soon."
He groaned quite loudly with deep disgust when he took the tranq gun, which Grimes had pulled from his ankle holster, and checked it. Real men carried real weapons. Though the gnome had had a point that Zarnow and his goons were more valuable alive than dead, and with the asset backing up Grimes' reasoning, he had conceded.
"So we're clear on the plan?" He inquired so there would be no misunderstandings later on. "Grimes, you stay here and make sure that Sam does not leave this car under any circumstances, only when it's a matter of life or death. Sam, stay in the car."
The two nodded in agreement. He took a deep, cleansing breath to stop his growing adrenaline rush; he lived for action and gunplay. Part of him still wanted to switch to his custom P229 and go in full force.
He gave them both one last stern look that promised there would be painful consequences to disobeying his orders, and snuck off into the shadows of the trees and the night.
She fidgeted nervously with the hem of her t-shirt, which stupidly read 'Come to the Nerd side. We have Pi.', waiting for the plan to go to hell, since nothing seemed to go her way at the moment. Could she have been any more dorky?
"It'll be fine," Morgan said in a soft, reassuring voice while he turned a little in the driver's seat to be able to look at her.
She simply shrugged her shoulders in response and continued to fake an interest in the stitching of the hem.
"So," he began after a lengthy silence, undoubtedly trying to get a conversation going to kill the time. "What do you think of Chuck?"
It was a good thing it was practically dark in the car and outside, so he did not notice the bright blush on her face. She stifled a cough and answered: "He's... not what I expected of a spy."
He chuckled: "Ain't that the truth, but that's not what I meant."
"I know," she whispered, wishing he would drop the subject.
Determined not to admit to anything before she had sorted herself out, she let another lull fall into the conversation. Whatever she did feel, or did not feel, was something else to examine, and to make up her mind about later on.
When she had blurted out, to her own disbelief, that she had liked him, it had been the truth. Chuck was funny and engaging, genuinely interested and listened to what she said. Things that made her feel even more unworthy of his attention.
"I know my boy likes you," Morgan did not relent. "He has to pretend not to, to keep the bosses off his back, but I've known him long enough to spot the tells that he does. Or maybe he hasn't realized it himself yet. But he does."
It felt like her face had caught fire. Apparently Chuck's best friend was a blabbermouth. Yet, just like that, there was another spark of hope. Maybe her efforts so far had not been in vain after all? Maybe she should listen to Bryce and take his advices?
She kept quiet again, hoping it would prompt Morgan to disclose even more. It paid off, when he said: "It's just... He's been hurt pretty badly in the past-"
"Jill," she interjected with deep contempt in her voice.
"So you've heard?"
"Not the details, just that Ellie hates her with a passion because of something she did to Chuck," she replied.
He nodded in contemplation and she waited for his decision to spill or not. It was an uncomfortable silence.
"He was planning a future with her. You know, pop the question over a candlelit dinner at some swanky restaurant, with violinists, champagne, the whole romantic shebang," he paused, and she silently willed him to continue. "So one night, he put the plan in motion and while he's working up the courage to ask her, she starts off by confessing that she's been cheating on him for a while now. With his frat brother Bruce Laramee."
"That's... That's horrible," she remarked shocked.
Her case was almost just as bad, with the big difference that she had not been dating the guy before she had caught him with her roommate. Not that it made the feeling of betrayal any less, but she did feel a strong sympathy for Chuck because in a way she could relate.
"Needless to say that marked the end of that relationship, which was a good thing since she was totally not right for him," he added with a hint of hate. "The next morning he immediately went to see Professor Flemming and agreed to recruitment into the CIA. Something he had been holding off because he thought he would start a family with Jill soon."
For obvious reasons, it was no longer a hate by proxy, but a profound hate. And not all too surprisingly, a sense of gratitude, for letting go of a guy like Chuck.
"So when I'm asking what you think of Chuck, it's because I'm looking out for him," he concluded in a threatening voice. "I don't know you, but I do know that I never want to see him hurt. Again. Because he fell for the wrong girl. Again."
With her voice suddenly refusing active duty, all she could do was nod in understanding and agreement, in the hopes that Morgan would see it.
The biggest disadvantage of hiring a henchman was that the guy tended to be enormously stupid, something he usually made up for in brutal strength. If properly fooled, which was not that difficult given the lack of intelligence, the henchman was extremely easy to take out.
He had learned that in his army days, and had put it to good use in his career with the NSA. The two henchmen, he had just encountered and taken down, had been more of the same suit. Now they were laying zip tied in the darkest shadows of the shack, waiting for their extraction. The evil doctor would be joining them soon, if he had a say in it.
Slow but steadily he moved over to the dirt covered window and quickly glanced inside. A simple bulb bathed the interior in sharp white light. Bartowski was duct taped to a chair and Zarnow was looking at him as if he were the goose with the golden eggs.
He did not like Bartowski, but he owed it to him to rescue him for Zarnow's greedy claws. The kid had turned out to be pretty smart and had seen through Zarnow's plans. It would be pretty useful to keep him around, if this babysitting gig would last for an undetermined period of time, which seemed very likely since the one person who might have been able to get the secrets out of the asset's head would be heading for a CIA or a NSA black site soon.
Plus there would be a lot of red tape to cut through and it would be pretty difficult to explain to their superiors how he had lost his - he nearly choked at the thought - new partner, who may or may not have an Intersect, in no more than three days.
He peered through the window again. There were a few options to pick from, ranging from deception to direct attack. He preferred the last, and with the doctor having his back turned to the door, it could work. The biggest unknown factor was whether Zarnow was armed or not, something he could not determine from his position. However the element of surprise should work in his favor.
He snuck over to the run-down door and stood upright before checking the tranq gun, nearly giving himself away with another grunt of disgust escaping him. Counting down from ten, he rammed his shoulder into the rotten wood and took most of the door down in one go. With the gun at the ready, he immediately pulled the trigger when he got his target in sight.
The traitorous doctor did not even have the time to turn around and react before he went down like deadweight. His idiot partner looked at him with a mixture of shock and surprise. He rolled his eyes and quickly zip tied the evil doctor so he would not have to worry about the man making his escape.
For a moment his sadistic side took over and he wondered if he should leave Bartowski behind to make him sweat a little. Much to his own chagrin, reason took over and he looked around for a knife or scissors, finding a box cutter. Four quick slashes, that elicited a distorted yelp from the moron, and Bartowski's hands were free. He handed the box cutter to him, and dug up his cell phone to call in a cleanup crew.
He winced in pain when he pulled the bits and pieces of the duct tape off. He would need ointment for that. Maybe Ellie would have something to soothe the burn of his chapped skin? A shudder ran through him; this would be very hard to explain to his overprotective sister, who without a doubt, would go scary doctor on him. Perhaps it was best if he would just suck it up, and thus avoid any and all questions his sister would have on how he got his injuries. He was not ready to explain his complicated work situation to her; his official job title was analyst, but as the Intersect he had been sent out in the field as an agent. As long as she were to think he was sitting safe behind a desk, she would be safe.
"Casey, a sight for sore eyes," he said with a tentative smile.
"Put a sock in it, Bartowski," the NSA agent grumbled. "Or I will wrap your head in duct tape."
"Uh, no thanks."
"Damn, it would be an improvement in your case," Casey offered with an evil smirk.
"Thanks for rescuing me," he chose to ignore the poking.
"Yeah, well, the asset and the gnome won't go on a bitch fest now," was the growled response.
He could return the poking, but decided against it, because he was certain that Casey would make good on his threat if he did.
Incessant blaring of her alarm woke her from her dreamless sleep. She groaned annoyed, reached for the obnoxious thing and hit it as hard as she could. Just five more minutes.
Her eyes snapped open when she realized that the alarm would not have gone off if it had not been morning yet. Upon heaving a deeply annoyed groan, she rolled onto her back and glared at the ceiling.
Ever since she had gotten that email from Zondra, nothing seemed to go to plan anymore. When she had so desperately wanted to sleep, she could not, and now that she had wanted to stay awake and think on life changing things in the solitude of her room, she had fallen asleep. Which should not have come as a surprise at all, because she had been dead tired despite the few hours of sleep she had gotten yesterday afternoon. So what was it exactly that she had expected last night when lying down on her bed after telling Bryce to mind his own damn business when he had overloaded her with questions, after she had gotten home shortly before midnight?
She let out another groan. She was not one step closer to figuring out what she wanted now that the Intersect appeared to stay where it was. 'Or who,' her mind reminded her ever so subtly. Chuck was certainly a complication.
After a few minutes of glaring at the ceiling in silence, she got up, changed into her work outfit, managed to make herself look half-decent in the bathroom and went to the living room. Bryce was already there, reading the newspaper. She groaned in annoyance again, really not in the mood to deal with his 'concerned parent'-mode again.
Much to her huge surprise, he looked up and wished her a good morning. He told her to sit down while he would get her breakfast and coffee, and engaged in idle chitchat while they ate. His sudden change in behavior was suspicious, or maybe she was just being paranoid and had he finally gotten the message to butt out last night.
A good twenty minutes later, she stepped out of her front door and found only Casey waiting for her in the courtyard. It came as a relief and a disappointment at the same time. She did not want spend any more time with Chuck than she already did, but his absence made her-
She cut off that thought instantly.
"Where's Chuck?" She asked anyway.
"CIA-nerd's gone back to Bakersfield," Casey grunted in a fashion that told her she would better drop the subject and not question him about it.