A/N: Ownership of Chuck may not be in exactly the same hands as the ownership of Warner Brothers Studios in Burbank. Or it may be.
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"G'morning, Lou," said Sarah. "I'd like you to meet my friend Amy."
"Oh, not necessary, Sarah. Amy and I are old friends. Well, maybe a week and half anyway," said Lou laughing.
"Morgan introduced us," said Amy with a smile.
"Got it," said Sarah with a smile of her own.
Amy and Sarah collected their coffees and sat at a table by the window.
"So, what's up?" asked Amy.
"We got cleared yesterday to brief you on something the team has worked on a little bit. Something that we are getting involved in again." Amy looked at her seriously, sipped her coffee, and waited. "There's an outfit called Fulcrum. It is a domestic organization composed of disgruntled members of the Intelligence Community."
"Aw, shit," said Amy.
"Yeah. Maybe civilians too. Business. Law enforcement. You name it. We don't really know the scope, and we aren't sure what their ultimate goals are...probably far right... but they are very, very dangerous. Our team has run into them a few times so far and they are brutal and deadly, smart and relentless. Since they are among us...and spies like us... they are incredibly dangerous."
"Any idea of the size?" asked Amy.
"No. Getting a handle on the size and membership is one of the major things we are looking for. We are working directly for Graham and Beckman on this. No intermediaries."
"Of course." Amy sat looking out the window for a few moments, deep in thought, then said, "Ok. Can't trust anyone, it seems. CATS all over again." She scowled, but then she saw the look in Sarah's eyes. "Sorry. Sore topic. What is the newest development?"
"We have an asset inside Fulcrum. Operation Thirty. We got a message yesterday. It was two parts. First, a few weeks ago the COS in Budapest was killed. He was tortured to death..."
"Yeah, I heard about that. It was just before I met you guys in Switzerland. So that's what you were working on in Budapest."
"No. We had a different mission in Budapest. It was a coincidence that we were there. But we learned afterward that the dead guy was Fulcrum. Our inside source in Fulcrum confirmed yesterday that another man, a State Department guy in Venice who had also been tortured to death, was also Fulcrum."
"So, what? Are they being hunted? Do we stand back and applaud?" asked Amy.
"We don't know what's going on. Maybe it's a coincidence." Amy made a disbelieving face. "Or maybe not," said Sarah. "But that's not the immediate concern. Yesterday's message included a picture and the word beware. It was a picture of the new woman who started working at the Wienerlicious while we were in Europe."
"The skank?"
"Yeah. Goes by the name Lizzie. Whoever she is, she's Fulcrum. She's been trying to make friends with me, so I've agreed to meet her for a drink tonight. You and the team will be covering me."
"Ok. Got it." Amy smirked a little bit. "Not running a seduction mission on her, I guess, or you'd have sent me in."
Sarah looked down a little embarrassed, "No, Amy it's not like that..."
"Sarah, stop. I'm just busting on you. It's cool. I understand why you don't want to do them anymore. If I'm ever blessed like you to find someone I love and who loves me back, I'll swear off them too. I get it. The only thing that surprised me is that you were so pissed off about it. Casey did you a solid by bringing me along."
"I know. I do. I know. It just didn't seem that way at the time." She sighed. "I was at the top of the game, you know? One of the best at everything. I was one of the best spies we had. We all were in the CATS. Faster, smarter, more skilled. We could do anything..."
"Kind of you to include the rest of us in that, but we all know you were ...and are...much better than I am. Than any of the rest of the CATS were. It's why you were our leader."
"Well, thanks...I could do anything, you know? You wanted a file stolen. I could do it. A target killed. Got it. A man seduced. No problem. I could do it all and better than almost anyone else. I'm not blind and I see that with time, the aptitude for field work changes. I got that. The older agents get different assignments. But I'm still young. I think I can still do everything...I guess I just wasn't ready to admit to myself that I can't. I can't do everything anymore. Things have changed...and it's ok. Casey was right. I'm not that person anymore. I've changed...moved to a different place...it's ok. It's why I was pissed off, though. I wasn't ready to admit that the changes I've experienced over the last few months have inevitably brought concomitant limitations. But I am now. I can admit it. Casey's ...well, he's forced me to see reality. He was right. And I'm not mad anymore."
They sat silently sipping their coffees, until Amy said, softly, "That last seduction mission must have been pretty bad. I'm sorry, Sarah."
Sarah said, with a little smile, "Naw. It wasn't that bad really. I puked on the guy."
Amy had been taking a sip of her coffee and sprayed it out in her laughter. "OH, MY GOD. NO FUCKING WAY." Smiling Sarah began to wipe the coffee off the table as Amy laughed hysterically. "That's fucking awesome. Not in the seduction manual, though. Oh, my God."
Lou yelled, from behind the counter, "You good?"
"We're good," Sarah yelled back, laughing.
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Sarah was in a bit of a grumpy mood. It was after the lunch rush and the day hadn't started well. Lizzie, again, had stacked the cups wrong and Sarah had to restack them correctly when she got in. Maybe she'd mention it tonight. After all, even if it was a cover job for both of them and the woman was the enemy, they'd still have to find some way of operating this freaking store together for a while. And that arrangement of cups was just wrong.
And now, after lunch, where the hell did that woman put the refills for the napkins? Sarah kept a package or two available on the shelf under the counter so she wouldn't have to go to the storage area in back every time the container ran low. The napkins weren't where she'd left them yesterday afternoon. Goddammit.
She got down on her knees to check the back of the shelf. She was definitely going to talk to this woman tonight over drinks. This was ridiculous.
At the back of the shelf she saw a wire that hadn't been there when she'd left for Europe. 'What had Scooter done while she was gone?,' she wondered. She followed the wire along under the bottom of the counter to where it joined the wires from the computer cash register. From there, it disappeared into the mass of wires. She was considering just asking Chuck what it was about when she noticed that it didn't seem to be connected to the computer at all. Scooting over on the floor, she went to the other shelf, the one closer to the window, where the wire continued its journey. That shelf was awkward to access because of the placement of the coffee makers and it tended to be cluttered with stuff that wasn't used often, if ever. Moving some of the stuff aside, she found the end of the wire.
At the end of the wire was a microphone. She stared at it with alarm. Oh, shit. With a feeling of dread and maybe even a little sick to her stomach, she began to trace the wire back in the other direction. Oh, shit. She was knocking things off the shelf to the floor, heedless of the mess she was making. There was a small compartment built up at the back corner of the first shelf. Oh, shit. She ripped it out and found what was at the other end of the wire. A tape recorder. She pulled the recorder away from the wire and turned it off.
Oh, God. A fucking tape recorder. Yesterday's conversation with Beckman and Graham. Oh, God.
She touched her watch and called the rest of the team, Amy included, and told them to meet her in the parking lot immediately. No matter how many other listening devices Lizzie might be able to hide, she couldn't bug the parking lot.
Moments later they were standing between two parked cars. A woman in the Wienerlicious skirt and blouse, a man in the Nerd Herd shirt and tie, and two greenshirts.
Chuck said, "What's wrong?"
Sarah handed him the recorder and said, "I found this at the end of a mike."
He took it curiously, and then recognized it. "Oh, shit. A tape recorder. The wireless alarm I made..."
"Wouldn't work. Aw, fuck, kid," said Casey. "She went old school. Not wireless at all. Old school. Like your grandpa's old school. A mike and recorder. No wireless signals for you to find. You can have all the alarms you want and the only way to find this shit is to fucking look for it."
"Goddamm," said Amy.
Sarah looked too sick to speak.
"You need hours to set it up right and hide it, and regular access to change the tapes and batteries," said Casey. He didn't look any happier than Sarah did.
"Like a job in the location of the device?" said Chuck. It was not really a question.
"Yeah. Can you tell what she's gotten from it?"
"It's voice activated and the tape is only a couple of hours or so in. She must have switched it out when she ended her shift last night. So, she took home yesterday's tape last night. FUCK," said Chuck with vehemence.
"We'll figure this out," said Sarah. She looked like she wanted to throw up.
Chuck said, "Yesterday's conversation with Graham and Beckman. SHIT. Guys, they know I'm the Intersect." His voice had a twinge of panic in it. He was trying to hold it together, but was right on the verge of freaking out.
"The what?" asked Amy.
Casey said, "We'll explain later. The important thing for you to know right now is that it means he has a big fucking target on his back. And the most important job we have is to protect him."
"From Fulcrum?" asked Amy.
"Yes," said Casey. "Let's go to the home theater room and call Beckman and Graham."
As they entered the store, Chuck said, "What if there are more recording devices there?"
"Who cares? Cat might be out of the bag already. I hope like hell Lizzie comes in here to get the tape if there are. She won't make it ten feet into this store before I kill her," said Casey.
"Me first," said Sarah.
In the home theater room they put out a request for an emergency call with Beckman and Graham.
Shortly the screen came to life with both of them. "What is it?" asked Beckman.
Casey spoke. "Ma'am, Sir, it appears that the Fulcrum agent working at Agent Walker's cover job had a recording device operational at the store. She would have heard yesterday's conversation. She would know that Bartowski is the Intersect."
"SHIT," exclaimed Graham. "How? I thought your gadget would send an alarm if there was a bug."
"Yes, Sir. No wireless transmission, though. A mike and a recorder. There was no transmission to detect," said Chuck.
"Damn. Yeah. If someone wants to bug a room like that you'd never find it. You'd have to rip the whole place apart looking for something like that. Shit," said Graham, with a sigh.
"We have to find the Fulcrum agent," said Beckman.
"Yes, Ma'am. We're going to do that right now," said Casey.
"It's too late, though," said Chuck. His voice sounded steady, if sad. "She would have listened to the tape by now. From yesterday. Ma'am, you asked yesterday if they knew that I am the Intersect. She would have told Fulcrum. It's just a phone call. Finding her is closing the barn door. It's just too late."
"We're not giving up, Chuck. We're not giving up. We'll find her," said Sarah, sounding desperate.
"They'll come after my family, Sarah. Ellie and Devon. Even Morgan. They'll come after them. That will be my weakness. That's what they will do. Just by...being...I'm putting them in danger from Fulcrum," said Chuck.
"No, Chuck," said Sarah. "We can protect them. We'll send people..."
He reached out and took both her hands in his. "Sarah, you have no idea if the people you send to protect Ellie are Fulcrum themselves. It won't work."
"No, Chuck...No..." she said.
Chuck turned to the screen and said, "Director, General, there's only one choice. You have to put me in the bunker. The bunker you talked about the first day. It's the only way to protect my family and friends from Fulcrum. Bunker me."
"NO," Sarah practically screamed. "NO, no bunker. No." There were unshed tears in her eyes. "No...I just...I...no. No bunker. You are staying. You're staying right here. Don't even think about it. That's not happening..." She was shaking him by the arms, in an effort to get him to face reason.
Beckman sighed and said, "I understand the hesitancy, Agent Walker, but..."
"Forget it, General. It's not happening. Plan B," Sarah barked. She was almost snarling.
"Sarah," said Chuck. "It's the safest thing to do for Ellie. It won't be forever..."
"No. It will just be until we defeat Fulcrum. It could take years to defeat Fulcrum. I'm not letting you go to the bunker for years. No..."
"Sarah," said Casey. "The kid's right. I hate to say it, but he's right. This is the best way. You, Amy and I can't take the fight to Fulcrum when he's the target of ….well, of everything. We'll spend too much time looking over our shoulders. He'll be safe and what's more, so will Ellie, Devon and Morgan. I don't like it any more than you do...ok, that's not true...but it's the right thing to do. He's right. If we didn't, and something happened to his family, none of us would ever forgive ourselves."
"Agent Walker, he'll be safe in the bunker," said Graham. "And what's just as important, his family will be safest with him in the bunker."
Sarah stood there shaking her head at all the obstinacy surrounding her. Chuck squeezed her hands and "It's ok, Sarah. It's going to be ok. This is the best of a bunch of really sucky choices."
"He's right, Agent Walker," said Graham. He sounded as kindly as he could, given the news he was imparting.
Sarah looked at the faces arrayed around her and knew that she was defeated. They were going to put Chuck in the bunker no matter what she said. Fuck that. Even Chuck...her Chuck...was insisting on it. But it wouldn't happen like that. No. She wasn't losing him. It had taken her her entire life to find him, and she damn well wasn't losing him now. No fucking way. That wasn't an option. "I'm going," she said suddenly.
He looked at her with surprise. Chuck said, "I would never ask you..."
"I know, sweetie, but I'm going with you," said Sarah. She turned to the screen and said, "Director, I request an immediate reassignment to the bunker. I want to be in charge of Chuck's protection. Put me in command of the bunker personnel."
Graham frowned, "Agent Walker, an agent of your caliber would be of the most use out in the field fighting Fulcrum. I mean, I know..."
"Please," said Sarah. The tremor in her voice was so slight that it was likely that no one but Chuck and Graham noticed it. She was holding it together, not crying and not breaking polite protocol in any way, but she was pleading. This wasn't Agent Walker making a request of her boss. This was Sarah begging her foster father.
Graham looked at her hard for a long moment and said, "Fine. Done. I'll make the arrangements. The two of you will be extracted together as soon as we can work that out. By the time you arrive, the new command structure will be in place."
Casey, Amy, and even Beckman, were more than a little surprised by Graham's decision. Chuck had a better grasp of the relationship between Sarah and Graham at this point and wasn't. He squeezed her hands and she gave him a tiny smile, a mix of love and certainty.
"Thank you, Sir," said Sarah.
"Sir, Ma'am, Agent Turner and I will begin the search for the woman," said Casey.
"Wait a second, Casey," said Sarah. "I want you guys to come on the extraction and protect Chuck with me. There's no telling what they'll send for him."
"Yeah, but we stand a better shot at getting to her if we act quickly. Let me get Fitz and his guys to cover. They can work protection while Amy and I find Lizzie," said Casey.
"No," said Graham. "I have them on a job in Mexico. How about Barry Longshore? He's only a few hours away in Santa Barbara. You've working with him before in New Jersey. And Agent Turner was his partner for a year or so."
"Ok, Sir. Agent Longshore is a good choice," said Sarah.
"He's good, Sarah. Tough as nails and very smart," said Amy reassuringly.
Graham said, "Very well. I'll arrange for Longshore to come down to LA and meet you at the Wienerlicious. I'll also arrange for him to take you to the extraction point and accompany you both to the bunker. You and Chuck hold up in the store until he arrives. In the meantime, Agents Casey and Turner, find this woman. It's one chance in a thousand, but maybe she hasn't listened to yesterday's tape...or maybe she hasn't transmitted what she knows to Fulcrum yet."
They answered with a chorus of affirmatives.
"Good luck," said Beckman. "Please keep us posted as this plays out."
"We'll be thinking about you all," said Graham. The video conference ended.
"Alright, Sarah, Chuck. Amy and I will get started on tracking down Lizzie."
"Right. Chuck and I will wait for Longshore and the extraction. Listen, if we don't..."
"I'll see you later, Sarah," said Casey. "I'll see you both."
"Right. Good luck, Case, Amy. Be safe," said Chuck, giving Casey's arm a squeeze.
"You too, kid. You too," said Casey.
Chuck and Sarah moved back to the Wienerlicious. Sarah put out the closed sign on the door, but kept an eye out for Lizzie, just in case she decided to come to work that afternoon for some reason. She also changed out of her Wienerlicious outfit. No way in hell she was showing up at the bunker in that get up.
They were holding hands, Sarah with her left hand, as her weapon was in her right. She had turned the lights off in the store as the sun set outside, early this time of year. They sat quietly, each lost in their own thoughts.
Eventually, Chuck said, "Have you ever seen it? The bunker, I mean. What's it like? Will I...I don't know...get to see the sun sometimes?"
"Oh, Chuck. Oh, my God...you thought...No, Chuck, no. It's not really a bunker. Like underground and shit. No. That's just what we nicknamed it. To emphasize its safety, security. It's actually a huge farmhouse in Oklahoma. In the center of a six hundred acre farm. It looks perfectly normal and innocent, but it's as well armed and protected as a military base. All the farm hands are highly trained, heavily armed guards. If the head of the Russian FSB were to defect, this is where we'd stash the guy," said Sarah.
"Oh. That's better than an underground thing, I guess," he didn't sound particularly cheerful about the farmhouse.
Almost two hours later, Longshore called. A chopper was inbound and he would pick them up to take them to the extraction site in about half an hour.
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Casey and Amy were in the Crown Vic and returning from a fruitless trip to Lizzie's address from her job application. The address was a mail drop paid for in advance in cash and useless to them. The next stop was to check the Buy More's security monitors.
Amy said, with amazement and maybe a little horror, "And Larkin sent this...Intersect computer thing to him without warning? He planned for Chuck to download an experimental thing into his brain and become the target of every Fulcrum agent in the country? And Chuck was just walking around minding his own business when this shit happened to him?"
"Pretty much, yeah. Larkin claims he though the thing had been tested and was safe. But otherwise, yeah," said Casey.
"Fucking asshole," said Amy, with fury.
"Yeah," said Casey.
"And when he got it Chuck stepped up? Became an agent? Damn. Honestly, Casey, I thought the guy couldn't possibly impress me more and then...damn. How is he? How's Chuck with the thing in his head?"
"Ok. It only works every once in a while if he sees or hears something that triggers it. They put it together hoping it would be like this super thing that's going to make unbeatable agents, but mostly I think it should just be given to a few analysts to sit in rooms in DC. At least in my opinion. Sure, he's flashed on some useful stuff sometimes, but mostly it's just a pain in the ass."
"Does it hurt him?"
"Day to day, naw. At least not that I can tell. If he flashes too much though, it gives him a headache," said Casey.
"And there's no way to get it out?" she asked.
"Not yet, anyway. They are still working on the whole project in the labs back east."
"And if they could take it out, he could go back to his real life?" asked Amy.
"If he ever gets out of the bunker? Yeah, I guess. I sort of hope he wouldn't, though," said Casey.
They parked and headed back into the Buy More.
"Why?"
"He has more natural talent for this job than anyone I've ever met. He's brilliant, brave as hell, quicker thinking than anyone, great attitude, a fantastic team player. If he were to bail on it...well, that would be a loss to the country. The business at Union Station...disarming the bomb there? That was one hundred percent Bartowski. No Intersect at all. Just him. And that was his first day. He'd only been with us a few hours and he steps up and saves everyone in Union Station. Absolutely outstanding," said Casey with fervor.
"Wow, and I heard him turn Yari Demetrios at the point of a gun. Amazing. I see what you mean," said Amy. "Sounds like you're a big fan."
"Don't you dare tell him," said Casey sternly.
She laughed lightly and said, "Your secret is safe."
In the cage in the back room, they got the tapes playing from the security cameras in front of the store. "There she is." Amy pointed at the monitor in front of them. In the picture, recorded yesterday, they could see Lizzie in her Wienerlicious outfit crossing the parking lot to enter the hot dog store. They backed up the tape until she just came into view. If this didn't work, they would find a way into the security footage for the entire mall, but at the moment, the footage from the Buy More's cameras was more easily accessible to them and a good first step. Well, second step.
"Doesn't show her car," said Casey.
Lester and Jeff, who had been passing through the back area overheard. "And whose car are we looking for now, my friends?" Lester asked with an air of self-importance.
"Well, Casey's helping me, Lester. I'm trying to find out what car Lizzie drives. You know, Lizzie, from the Wienerlicious. I borrowed a bikini from her and wanted to return it, but I lost her contact info on my phone...I'm such a ditz, you know?" She giggled. "Do you happen to know what car she drives? Or where she lives? That would be even better." She put a hand on his forearm.
Lester brushed back his hair and stood taller, "Well, as a matter of fact..."
"It's a tan Camry. Late model. With a burgundy interior," said Jeff.
"Actually, my colleague is correct," said Lester, with a bit of a scowl at Jeff.
"License number?" growled Casey.
"Ah. Her license number is unknown..." said Lester.
"Then you're useless. Take a hike while we try to figure this out," said Casey.
"However, if you are looking for the delectable Wienergirl, we can find her for you," said Lester,
"We can find a girl in the ruins of a blooming onion," said Jeff, with a goofy smile. Casey and Amy looked at each other. What the hell did that even mean?
"You can?" asked Amy with overflowing enthusiasm and a huge smile. "Oh, my God. You are just so great. How can you do that?"
"Well, Amy...it's a secret actually. Known only to those of us from a Canadian background," he said, doing his best attempt at looking mysterious.
"We call our friends," said Jeff.
"Your friends? And your friends help you? Well, that's brilliant. You guys are the best. Would you do that for me? Please?" asked Amy.
"Well, my friend, Amy. We might." Lester tried bedroom eyes. It didn't go well. "Depends. What's in it for us?"
"I have just the thing," said Amy, very chipper. "How about an appetizer sampler from Applebee's?"
"With the boneless wings?" asked Jeff with excitement.
"Of course, with the boneless wings, Jeff. That's the best part," giggled Amy with a huge smile.
"And beer?" asked Jeff, hopefully.
"Absolutely. A brewtus apiece," said Amy, her blonde hair bobbing with her enthusiastic nodding.
"Two. Two apiece," said Lester. Casey growled. "Nevermind," said Lester. "That's not necessary. One apiece is fine."
"Ok," said Amy. "But only if you can find her for me. You don't get it if we don't find her."
"Oh, don't you worry, Amy. We got this," said Lester. He turned to Jeff and said, "Unleash the pervs."
Jeff and Lester donned headsets and sat in front of computers in the cage, Jeff said, "Growler, we need an address for the Wienergirl...no, not the hot blonde, the new one, the brunette, Lizzie..."
Lester was saying, "Hey, Spike, the new Wienergirl, Lizzie...yeah. Any of your shots have the license number for her car?...Yes, I'll wait."
Jeff said, "Sure, ask Marty...hey, Marty, the new Wienergirl, what do you have for me?"
Lester said, "Good, that works...can you run it...Hertz? OK, get me Pancho...Hey Pancho, let me give you a tag number, I need an address..." Lester got the address from the car rental agreement.
Jeff said, "No, no, no. That's gotta be a mail drop. Hold on. Lester, they say she lives nearby. Get Billie..."
"Jesus, this is awful," whispered Amy to Casey. Casey just grunted in return.
"Right, Billie, the new Wienergirl. I need an address..." Lester put his hand over the mike on the headset and asked Amy, "You need any pictures of her in the bikini?" Amy shook her head, somewhat horrified. Lester went back to the man on the other end, "No. No pictures necessary...actually, you know what? I'll take some..." Casey growled. Glancing at Casey with fear, Lester said, "No, never mind. I don't need them. Thanks, though. Just the address. OK, thanks. I sure will," Lester signed off.
Jeff said, "We got it, thanks, guys." He also signed off.
"Right," said Lester. "The beautiful and charming Lizzie the Wienergirl lives just across the road in that development with the brown rooves. She's in number 28, although it is not leased in her name according to ...my sources." He said the last with a very self-satisfied flourish.
Amy giggled and said, "You sure? You are just so awesome. You both are. Thanks a million. Casey and I have to go now, but you remember that I owe you the appetizer sampler and beer. Thanks guys."
"Any time. Say listen, Amy, perhaps we can..." He didn't get to finish as she and Casey turned and left, heading across the Buy More sales floor at a jog.
"I'm never going to get that out of my head, am I?" she asked Casey as they ran from the Buy More to the Crown Vic.
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A black SUV with tinted windows pulled up in front of the Wienerlicious. Sarah, gun in hand, looked both ways and carefully around the parking lot and nearby buildings, then motioned Chuck to come out. Chuck got into the back seat and Sarah into the front. Longshore was driving.
"Longshore," she said.
"Walker. Carmichael," the man said. "Ready?"
"Yeah," said Sarah. "Let's do it." Longshore took the car away from the curb and headed towards the extraction point.
Longshore said, "There's an MP-5 under the seat."
"Thanks," said Sarah. She holstered her weapon and took the submachine gun from under the seat, flicking the safety off and jacking a round into the chamber.
"Shit. Sarah, we forgot about Operation Thirty. We have to pull him out," said Chuck, with urgency. "I've been so worried about me..."
"You're right. We'll do it from the chopper when we are airborne," said Sarah.
A few minutes later, Chuck said, "Sarah, I know this is my idea and everything, but what are we going to tell Ellie? Tell my friends?"
She had to focus. She had to keep Chuck safe. She pushed down the urge to cry. 'Cry?' she thought. 'I want to scream and wail and pound the living shit out of something.' Sarah also wanted to comfort Chuck, but the gun was in her hands and her head was on a swivel looking everywhere for danger. Fulcrum could attack at any time and from any direction. While she appreciated Longshore's assistance, she wished she was with Casey.
"We don't want the opposition watching them to see if they contact you. I'll talk to them. Better …. better that they …. think you're gone. Ummm, gone," said Sarah, as gently as she could.
"I understand. That makes sense. You can do it. You can do anything. I know you'll take care of it," he said in a small voice, looking out the window at the passing lights as he began to cry silently.
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A/N2: In real life, the Intelligence Community does not provide long term protection for defectors. Once a defector has been debriefed, the man or woman is turned over to the United States Marshall's Service and their famous Witness Protection Program. The IC simply recognized that the Marshalls are better at that particular task than they themselves are. To date (2/2020) the Marshalls have never lost a single witness who obeyed their rules.
A/N3: A "brewtus" is the proprietary name for the largest size draft beer available on the Applebee's regular menu. Just in case anyone here cares.
A/N4: Jeff and Lester's informal pervnet of stalkers. I know. It's off-the-charts creepy and offensive. I know. It was only used once in canon to find Sarah, in the episode-that-shall-not-be-named. It was creepy then, but in the era of MeToo it seems even worse. I'll think of some way that Amy can try to shut it down permanently, but in the meantime, in this chapter it was a useful, if uncomfortable, tool. Sorry, folks. It bothers me as well.
A/N5: If I may address myself briefly to the guest reviewer who I cannot respond to in any other fashion. Tranquilizer is spelled with a "q". I know that. There is no dictionary spelling for the shortening of that word. Neither "tranq" nor "trank" are in the dictionary and, therefore, neither are right or wrong. I prefer to use "trank." Get off my back. :-)