A/N I got a comment when this story came out, that I probably broke the record for the number of pop culture references in a single story. One of those was the 'Oh Boy' I put in a closing note, but I'm not doing closing notes here and I'd hate to lose the record over a technicality.

If I remember correctly this chapter started with Casey asking "We got a hit?" when I started writing it. For me the process of writing is a process of continuous editing. I put a sentence down and then wonder what came before it or after it. It's not a perfect system, I usually see places I can add additional material, even now. Mostly it's settings, or other kinds of narrative. I've gotten much better at that as I go along, in part because readers have commented about things like that and I make an effort to do more. So thanks to all of you who've helped me become a better writer.

Ellie came through the door, phone to her ear. "Okay, well, that's something I guess. Keep me posted? Thanks."

"What's up, babe?" asked Devon, as she slipped the phone into her pocket.

She sighed. "That was Casey, they're not getting a signal from the tracker, but they're not getting a signal from the screamer either, so I'm trying to look at the silver lining for now."

"What's a screamer?"

"The tracker is powered by Chuck's body, and broadcasts at low power to avoid setting off enemy sensors. If that body stops working, the screamer goes off, and that's something we'd up pick on the dark side of the Moon, from the sound of things."

Devon was a doctor, not a cosmological physicist, and the impossibility passed him by. "That sounds kind of backward to me, babe. Wouldn't you rather find him when he's alive?"

"A screamer goes off when he's alive, he won't be alive much longer."

Devon held up his hands, laughing. "Whoa, you do a mean John Casey impression."

"Yeah? Well, he's right. I know it, and the Ring knows it. They're not going to put Chuck in a position where we can pick up his tracker if they can help it." Ellie turned her attention to something more hopeful, her brother's wife. "How's she doing?"

Devon shrugged. "Exhaustion, mostly. Long day, late night, and a berserker rage will do that to anybody. I administered the bone glue under topical, so she wakes up when she wakes up."

Ellie hugged him gently. "Thanks for taking care of her." And of me.

Devon was always up for a hug. "Thank John, he's the one who dragged me out of a boring meeting and put a bag over my head. Speaking of which, if you don't need me around I need someone to get me out of here, wherever 'here' is. I've got other patients to see."

She nodded. "I'll call John."

When Casey arrived, he had someone else in tow. The bag came off to reveal Morgan. Casey looked at her apologetically. "I didn't want him wandering around loose."

"I hope you brought a second bag, John," said Devon.

Casey chuckled, and pulled a second bag from his pocket. As Devon put it on, Casey turned to Morgan. "Don't leave this room until I come and get you."
Morgan nodded. "Right. I am not to leave the room, even if you come and get me."

Casey scowled at him. "Until I come and get you."

Morgan nodded." Right. Until you come and get me, I am not to enter the room."

Casey leaned in close. "There's a broom closet down the hall, numb-nuts."

Morgan raced to sit in a chair. "Right. I'll just wait right here, then, shall I, sir?"

Casey growled, took Devon's arm, and left.

A good agent takes the initiative, grabs any opportunities that come his way. A great agent recognizes when he's in over his head. "Leader, have arrangements been made to transport Carmichael?"

"Negative, Force Leader. Carmichael will be rendered down locally. We will send transport to our special facility. We will transport him elsewhere after that if it should be necessary." If there should be anything left to transport.

The Force Leader caught the subtext, immediately turning his mind to the objective and not the consequences. "Acknowledged." He turned to his computer as Leader ended the transmission, to await the packet of dossiers and code phrases the transporters would expect. The package they were coming to transport was the furthest thing from his thoughts.

Morgan looked up as Ellie came out of the recovery room. "How's she doing?"

"Sleeping."

"Will she be mission-capable when she wakes up?"

"Don't try to talk like Casey, Morgan, it doesn't suit you." She sat at her desk, pretending to work, hoping he'd shut up.

No such luck. "Maybe not the old Morgan, but Casey's giving me a chance to be a new Morgan and I'm taking it. I'm tired of letting other people fight my battles. I let Anna and Carina do that and it's been a disaster both times."

Ellie's pencil snapped between her fingers, and she frowned. "From what I hear, she's probably sleeping it off too." Hung over in a CIA holding cell with only a bloody handprint for company. She found the thought strangely satisfying, like the idea that Morgan might finally be growing up.

Morgan chuckled. "Yeah, she was totally wasted. I'm surprised she could even stand up at the end. They said I did the right thing, hitting her with that bottle."

"Then you did."

"I hope so. She was kind of incoherent there for a while, ranting about Chuck and how pathetic he was, when she couldn't even talk straight. I was afraid I'd make it worse."

Ellie perked up her ears, for two different reasons. "It would depend on where you hit her. Why would she say Chuck was pathetic?" She should know better than that.

"She didn't, really, just that his skills were surgically implanted, and he was nothing but an analyst with the interest. Like I said, incoherent."

Oh. "I have to make a phone call, Morgan. I'll be right outside, so don't touch anything."

"I really don't think that would be a good idea, Ellie. Look what happened to Sarah. Yes, I know you're not a ninja assassin—yes, I know that you can—look, I'll give it to you when I get there. Fine. I'm on my way back now." Casey tried to look on the bright side. Worst came to worst, Carina was already in a holding cell.

"Is there a problem, sir?"

"'Is there a problem'? Do you see any way to put that monstrosity under cover, because I do not. You are exposing the package to discovery and possible interception."

"Leader felt otherwise, sir. Your original mission specs did not include a pick-up of this nature. We have to improvise." Ring operatives disliked improvising.

They could have played it safe gone for the flash drive, but that Miller bitch had made hash of his plans, offered a prize too tempting to pass up. The Force Leader liked owning the glory, he didn't want to risk it in any way, which was probably the reason Leader was forcing him to risk it this way. "Fine. Deploy your men, we'll bring him out when the area is secure."

"What do you mean, we got a hit?" said Casey.

Lensman One (or maybe it was Two, he could never tell them apart) replied, "We've been scanning the entire city for his frequency, sir. No hits, so they must be keeping him insulated, but we got a random ping a few minutes ago."

"Probably a one-in-a-million shot as they had him outdoors before shoving him into a vehicle to take him to some other unknown location. Send the location to Shaw, see what he can make of it."

Morgan bumped into him from behind as he tried to walk while turning. "Wow, this is so cool!"

Casey grabbed him by the arm and swung him around to face the board. "Gentlemen, meet Morgan Grimes. He's a civilian consultant. You can speak freely in front of him, but to be honest you should really be careful what you say anyway."

Morgan took his eyes away from the screen for a second. "Hey, Casey, are you talking about me? I wish you wouldn't do that kind of stuff, it hurts my feelings, man, and besides, it's not like I was the guy who blabbed about the volleyball incident."

Casey rolled his eyes, looked at the agents. "You see my point?" They nodded. "Grimes, these fine gentlemen are Lensmen One and Two, I don't know which is which but I don't know if they do either…"

One of them shrugged. "Depends on who's driving."

"Whatever." He turned back to Morgan. "They're trying to track Chuck down using a special chip in his shoulder. You can stay here and look at the toys if you want, but don't press any of the shiny buttons–"

"The bright, shiny, candy-like buttons…" said Morgan, a verbal leer.

Casey slapped him in the back of his head. "Yeah, those buttons, moron. And don't distract them with sandwiches, desert islands, or your favorite Star Wars episode–"

"Empire," said Two. Or maybe it was One.

"Dude," said Morgan, and they fist-bumped as Casey hung his head.

"Maybe you two can work out a way to detect nerdiness from orbit, that'd find our boy real quick." He glared at One. Or maybe it was Two. "You've got one ping, I suggest you try to do something with it."

"Whoa, whoa, they got a ping? That's incredible."

"That's the best satellite technology money can buy."

"No, Casey, I mean it's in-credible." Morgan shook his hands at the incredible-ness of it. "They finally get their hands on Charles Carmichael, a guy you say they've been after for years, and they stay in DC? Wouldn't you load him onto a bus or a plane and get him the hell out of Dodge? I know I would. It's breaking one of the rules of the Evil Overlord handbook not to, and according to you these guys don't do that."

The Lensmen shared a wordless glance. "He's got a point, sir. What are they sticking around for?"

"Wait, I know," said Morgan, snapping his fingers. "They said they had plans for his head, maybe they need a head transplant facility, there can't be too many of those, right?"

Hmmm. "That's a great idea, Grimes, why don't you stay here and help these gentlemen look into the possibility. I have to go make a call, and then I'll check with Shaw."

"Sure, Casey, see you later." Morgan pulled up a chair as Casey left the room. "So tell me, did they make the video game to look like this, or did they make this to look like the video game…?"

The door cut off the running commentary, and Casey never looked back. He got out his phone. "Ellie…?"

"I'm pretty sure they know about the Intersect," said Ellie, trembling.

"How could they?" said Casey. "Even Carina didn't blab that much."

Ellie wasn't willing to give her that much credit. "That was her training talking, John. Even drunk, her subconscious mind wasn't letting her say the word 'Intersect', but if you listen for it you know what she's trying to say." She played back the relevant portion of the file Casey'd left her.

"'He'd be nothing but an analyst without the Intersect.' And you think Leader figured this out from her drunken ramblings in the back of a van at four in the morning?"

"'Tony Stark built one in a cave, from a box of scraps.'"

"Don't start talking like Morgan, Ellie. I'm begging you. The only thing that keeps me sane during his ninety-nine percent drivel is the one percent brilliance. Just don't tell him I said that."

"Focus, John. They forced Carina to steal a file of Intersect designs. They've got Chuck and they aren't taking him away, with a use for his head but not the rest of him. Is it really so hard to think that they have an Intersect facility of their own, somewhere nearby?"

"No, not hard, just unpleasant. How do we find it?"

Ellie pressed a button on her desk. "Manoosh."

A few seconds later her office door swung open as her assistant hastened in and—skidded to a halt, paling at the sight of John Casey looking fierce. He backed away, looking for something to put between them.

"Cut it out," snarled the Colonel. "We're all in this together."

"We are? Last time I saw you, you were calling me a traitor. You wanted to crush me under foot."

Casey grunted an acknowledgement. "It's simple, genius. You tried to be a traitor. You succeeded in being an asset. That counts for a lot in my book. Right now the future of this country is riding on your skinny shoulders and Ellie thinks you can pull that load. So I'm asking, can you?"

Manoosh walked, practically ran, back to his lab, his den, his home away from-well, his home, really. He had his tools and his code, everything he needed to live. Coming around the table, he tapped the keyboard on his computer. R U there?

FULL SENTENCES, MANOOSH. I TOLD YOU, WRITE BADLY, THINK BADLY.

Okay, okay. I got a new assignment, national priority.

EXCELLENT. MY DAUGHTER RESPECTS YOU.

Even Casey was nice to me. Sort of.

Orion?

WHY WAS COLONEL CASEY THERE?

The Intersect Host has been captured, that's the mission. They need me to find him.

Orion?

Orion?