A/N1: Ownership of...wait for it...Chuck.
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Malone, Graham and Beckman looked at Team B from the large TV screen in Chuck and Sarah's apartment.
"Good afternoon, Directors, General," said Chuck.
"Good afternoon, Chuck," said Malone. "Word is your trap netted Orion. Is that right?"
"Yes, Sir. It did."
"So, where is he?"
"We caught a bit of a surprise when we found him, Sir. We discovered that...Orion is my dad. Stephen Bartowski."
"What?" asked Malone, shocked.
"Good God," exclaimed Beckman.
Through the screen, Graham just looked at Team B silently for a moment or two more and then burst out laughing, deep belly laughs. "Beautiful. Beautiful. This is just beautiful. Fucking awesome. The same dad that abandoned you and Ellie all those years ago?"
"Yes, sir," said Chuck, a bit surprised by Graham's reaction.
"Langston?" asked Beckman.
"Come on, Diane. It's been over a year now since Chuck got the Intersect from Larkin. And there's just one absurd thing after another that happens with this team. Freighters running ashore on the beach. Tigers eating Fulcrum guys. The world's most talented hacker pops out of the birthday cake and converts a TV into a computer to stop a nuclear satellite. A hijacked Predator killing a Fulcrum team off the coast of Pakistan. Chuck's ex-girlfriend is a Fulcrum mastermind. Over and over again. And now it turns out that his dad invented the intersect. It's insane, so of course he did. Of course." He was still chuckling, shaking his head.
With a glance at Graham, who was still chuckling, Malone said, "Larkin."
Bryce stepped forward and removed the icepack from the side of his face. "Yes, Sir."
Malone looked at him through the screen and said, "What happened to you?"
"Orion was angry that I sent the Intersect to his son," replied Bryce.
Graham started to laugh again. "Fucking right he was."
Ignoring Graham, Malone said, "Did you know that his dad was the inventor when you sent Chuck the Intersect?" He was trying not to smile at Graham's reaction.
"No, Sir. No idea. I'm as surprised as anyone," said Larkin.
"Some coincidence," said Malone.
"Yes, Sir," said Larkin.
Beckman said, "Where is he now, Chuck?"
"He's with Ellie in her apartment next door," said Chuck.
"Very well. We'll have a team there to pick him up within the hour," she said.
"No, Ma'am. We're not going to do that," said Chuck. As he said it, Sarah stepped up and took his hand squeezing it.
"Chuck, we've been looking for him for decades. And now we have him," Beckman said.
"You have been. True. And now we know who he is and where he is. We want his help with the Intersect. And right now, he and one of the top Intersect scientists in the world are sitting and talking about the Intersect. You're not going to be able to do better than that someplace else. Interrupting that conversation is completely counterproductive. So, no, Ma'am, you aren't taking him anywhere," said Chuck.
"Chuck..." started Beckman, clearly frustrated. "This is a matter of national security for the Intelligence Community to handle, not the Bartowski family."
"Ma'am, with all due respect, you may have been doing this job longer than I have, but at the moment I am every bit as much a member of the Intelligence Community as you are. As such, the distinction you've drawn is meaningless." Chuck didn't raise his voice and maintained eye contact with Beckman. He wasn't backing down an iota.
Sarah said, "And, in any event, General, the best protection Orion has from Fulcrum is right here. There's no way to know if the team you send to pick him up or to protect him thereafter is Fulcrum."
"Stand down, General," said Malone. "Chuck and Sarah are right. We need Orion's cooperation. No need to pull him away from the family. He's been gone a long time as it is. Let's see how much cooperation Chuck and his sister can convince him to offer us. It's the best shot we have."
Beckman didn't reply or offer any other comment, but she looked as if she'd bitten into a lemon.
Malone said, "Do you think you need some more agents to help protect Orion?"
"No, sir. I think we've got it covered," said Sarah. "As has been the case for years, anonymity is his best protection. The only people who know who he is are us and Ellie. We should keep it that way."
"Agreed. Very well. Excellent job, team. Even if the end result wasn't exactly what anyone expected. Excellent job."
They ended the call.
Moments later Sarah's cell phone made a noise. It was a text message from Graham.
Let me know when Anna and I can meet the machatunim. LOL.
Sarah was puzzled. Zondra looked over her shoulder and started to laugh.
Sarah said, "What's that word?"
Zondra said, "It's Yiddish. It means 'in-laws.' Your foster father wants to meet Stephen, his future in-law."
Sarah started to laugh.
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The man with the Fulcrum code-name 'Leader' was sitting in the kitchen of the silent apartment. There was only a single light illuminating the table in front of him, the balance of the room in shadow. On the table were an ashtray, a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, and a cell phone.
He drew acrid smoke into his lungs and held it there, allowing the nicotine to work its way into his blood stream. Blowing the smoke out at the ceiling, he sighed.
He understood that he was in a high-risk profession. A profession where the rewards were great, but the downside was dreadful. In the name of the country he loved, he was prepared to run those risks. Such had been the operation in DC to get to the NSA's Intersect computers. It would have worked, but for the fact that his operative Sandstorm turned out to be Carmichael's ex-girlfriend from college. Who could have predicted such a ridiculous coincidence? And with the Carmichael team in the mix things had gone straight to hell. Right there the entire operation was dead in the water. Just some goddamn atrocious luck.
The phone on the table buzzed. "Leader," he announced.
"Smith here," came the reply.
"Yes, Sir," said Leader. He was nervous, but his voice was steady. Although with the hand not holding the phone, he began to pull at one end of his impressive mustache. Vincent Smith was one scary man.
Smith said, "I spoke to the Sachem a few minutes ago. He was right. Carmichael and his team found Orion."
"Damn. Where is he? We can mount a snatch operation," said Leader.
"We don't know. We need you to infiltrate their headquarters at the Studio. Whatever information they have about Orion will be kept there. If you need to at this point, take the Carmichael team and question them one by one until we have Orion in hand."
"Yes, Sir. Previously, the Sachem had ordered us not to interfere with them. Are those orders no longer valid? Can our interrogators use enhanced methods?"
"Gloves off, Leader. From this point forward it's open season on the Carmichael team to get to Orion. Whatever you have to do," said Smith. "Whatever you want to do. Orion is the priority."
"Excellent, Sir. We will make it happen."
"See that you do. Your last operation was a disappointment. Almost fifty dead civilians, Sandstorm's long-term cover shattered, three of our teams eliminated, and nothing to show for it. This is your last chance to redeem yourself, Leader. Failure will be met by your release from Fulcrum."
'Release,' thought Leader. Nice euphemism.
"Understood, Sir. We won't fail," he said, breaking the connection.
He sat looking at the phone on the table in front of him and made the decision to call the Roberts woman. Certainly she was wanted by all the Federal authorities as a terrorist. And the authorities were very, very angry at her, as many of the men and women she'd killed had been their brethren. The FBI and NSA would arm wrestle for the satisfaction of taking her down. He already had some ideas as to how to accomplish the new mission, and she would be crucial to those plans. Her status as a most wanted felon would be perfect.
He took another deep drag on his cigarette and reached for the phone.
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The next day, Lisa Mattock, Sarah, Zondra and Rachel sat in Lisa's office at the Studio surrounding the coffee table at their knees.
"So can you think of a lawyer that fits the bill?" asked Sarah of Rachel.
"No. Sorry, but you guys are barking up the wrong tree with this one. I know you want to help her, but I'm not going to find her a lawyer who will tell her not to sign a settlement agreement. Any lawyer who would do that is, in my opinion, committing a serious ethical breach," said Rachel.
"But someone who will fight for her. Someone who will make her see that taking that bastard's money just lets him rape someone else tomorrow or the next day," complained Zondra.
"No more rape for him. Not with no balls left," said Lisa with some satisfaction.
"True that. But he should still face charges for what he did to her. What he did to others before her," said Sarah.
"Guys, don't get me wrong. I want Weinberg to go to prison as much as anyone, but the task you are assigning to a lawyer...her lawyer, is misplaced. First of all, it's the government lawyers that bring charges against someone. Any lawyer we find for her is her private lawyer and just represents her in any civil, non-criminal, action. So, let's just make sure we keep that distinction in mind.
"Next, it's not for her lawyer to convince her not to take the money. That's for us to convince her. Look, Zee, take your own statement just a moment ago. You want someone who will fight for her. Yes, agreed. You want someone who will convince her not to take the money and let him get away with rape. Ok. You realize those two goals may be inconsistent? Right? The lawyer is supposed to fight for what she wants. What she wants to do. Not society. Not the justice system. Not the four of us. Not her parents. Her. What she wants. She's the client. That may be doing what's necessary to help to prosecute Weinberg, but not necessarily. What if she doesn't care about that? It's not her lawyer's job to convince her. He or she can lay that out as an alternative, but in the end, it's up to her. At the moment, she seems inclined to take the money. It's a lot of fucking money, guys. Life changing for her and her family. If I can find her a lawyer worth anything, negotiating the terms pursuant to which she gets more money with the least restrictions on her life after taking the cash is the lawyer's job. If that's what she wants to do."
"We can pay it," said Sarah, suddenly. "She won't have to take his money. Chuck and I have a lot of money. Three million is a lot and would put a dent..."
"Molly's money. Like charity..." said Zondra.
Rachel waved her hands in a stop gesture. "Guys, stop it. Stop it. Don't even think that way. That's no solution at all," said Rachel. "Remember how the criminal justice system works here. A jury has to find him guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. Reasonable doubt. It's a very high standard, and it should be. Just picture Weinberg's defense lawyer's cross-examination of Marjorie. 'So, Marjorie, you brought these charges against my client?' 'Yes.' 'Did anyone pay to you bring these charges?' 'Yes, I got three million dollars from the Carmichael Foundation to bring these charges.' 'They paid you to accuse my client of rape? No kidding?' So, guys, how long do you think the jury will take to acquit that son of a bitch? We'd be lucky if the judge didn't throw the case out immediately."
"Shit," growled Lisa. "She's right."
"In the same vein, if she wants to sue him for damages, more than three million dollars maybe, she can't even start that process until the criminal proceedings have been finished. If she did, the defense would just claim that the criminal charges were a set-up for a future payday in a civil case," said Rachel. "They'd claim that the charges against him were trumped up in an attempt to get rich."
"So, it's up to us to convince her to ignore the money and press charges," said Sarah with a sigh.
"I may have an idea," said Zondra, appearing to be thinking hard.
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Chuck checked his tie in the mirror and gave it a miniscule adjustment. As he turned Sarah put both hands on his chest and smoothed down some non-existent wrinkles on his suit jacket.
"Looking good, Mr. Bartowski," she said with a loving smile.
"Thank you, Soon-to-be-Mrs. Bartowski. And you are the most beautiful woman in the world, as always," he said, leaning in to give her a kiss. Sarah was wearing a one-piece silk jumpsuit in a subdued burgundy color. The charm bracelet twinkled on her wrist, her engagement ring on her finger. She did look spectacular.
Chuck glanced at his watch. "Don't be nervous, sweetie. We have plenty of time," reassured Sarah.
"I know. It's just...well, it's a pretty big deal."
"Oh, I know. The richest couple in the world. Bill and Melinda Gates. I know," said Sarah.
"Think we should offer to split the check?" asked Chuck with a grin.
Sarah gave him a swat on the arm and a grin as she turned to do her make-up. There was a knock on the front door.
Chuckling, he left their bedroom and walked over to open it. Casey stood on the other side.
As the older man came in he greeted Chuck. "You clean up okay, Bartowski."
"Don't be nice. It just confuses me," said Chuck with a grin.
"Fine. Don't make any stupid deals to sell our company. I'm having too much fun as it is," said Casey.
"Now that's more like it," said Chuck, patting his partner on the shoulder. "You eat yet?"
"Naw. I figure your dad and I will order something. While you are having a five-star meal, I can have some cold pizza," said Casey. Chuck took a beer from the fridge and opened it for Casey.
"You get what you deserve," said Chuck. "Speaking of which, let me check on dad."
Sipping his beer, Casey went to the corner of the room to look at the chess game he had running with Emma. Chuck went a few steps down the hall to the guest room, where his dad was perched in front of multiple computer screens.
"Hey, dad."
"Hello, Charles. Your big dinner with Bill and Melinda, huh?"
"Yeah. You ok?"
"I am. I'm looking into some of Ellie's ideas for Intersect removal. Most of them I played with and tried over the years. Nothing worked," said Stephen.
"Most, but not all, right?" asked Chuck.
Stephen sighed, pushed up his glasses, and rubbed his eyes. "Yes. There are a few of her ideas I still want to look into. I'm pessimistic, but she deserves to have me at least do that."
"Good. And don't be pessimistic. We'll figure it out," said Chuck. "Anyway, Casey is here until we get back. You guys can order some dinner."
"A guard? To make sure I don't get away?" asked Stephen.
"A protector. Remember that Fulcrum is still after you. And no one is here to stop you from running again. The door is open. But dad, just know this, please. If you run again, if you leave again, I won't look for you next time." Stephen looked up at his son quizzically until Chuck said, "That will be it. It was difficult enough the first time. I'm not doing it again. Please, don't run away again. I'm not threatening you, but I want you to understand how difficult it was for us and how a repeat would be seen."
"The IC won't..."
"This isn't Carmichael talking. This is Charles, your son," he said. "So please don't do it. Don't run out on us again."
Chuck spoke quietly, but firmly. Stephen heard the steel in his son's voice nevertheless.
"So, stay and work with the Intelligence Community? Chuck, you have to understand. You cannot trust them. You cannot trust the CIA or the NSA or any of them," said Stephen plaintively. "They will always have their own interests ahead of anyone else's. They aren't on your side and aren't even the good guys much of the time."
Chuck replied, "I know you had your own hard experiences with them, but that cast of characters has retired or died. I can't speak to that, especially as you destroyed all the files that could tell anyone what happened, but I'm sure it was terrible. My own experiences with the government have been different. And, just to select one man in particular, I trust Langston Graham as much as a member of my own family."
"That's a mistake, Charles."
"You don't even know him, dad. For someone who's got a genius level IQ you jump to some pretty extreme conclusions based on some pretty flimsy evidence," said Chuck.
"You can't trust him. You can't trust Casey. You can't even trust Sarah," said Stephen, sounding exasperated.
Chuck honestly couldn't believe that his dad had said that. He forced down the immediate burst of fury and worked to respond in a slightly calmer manner. It was very important to set this straight.
"Whoa, dad. You have a pair of balls on you, don't you? You disappear from my life for seventeen years, come back and tell me that I can't trust my own fiancée based on her career choice. A woman who has been nothing but gracious and welcoming to you. While you sit as a guest in her home, no less. I want to believe that you think you're protecting me, but the temerity..."
"Charles..." began Stephen.
Chuck sighed. "Dad, I want you to understand something. Really understand it. I love you. You are my father and I love you. Not because of what you've done for me, but despite everything you've done to me. But I love Sarah too. I love her with the entirety of my heart and soul. She means everything in the world to me. My love for that woman knows no bounds and will not be shaken by you or anyone else. And she feels exactly the same way about me. Do not question that. Do not question our love for each other. Not to me and not ever again. Dad, you need to think long and hard about ever putting me in a position to choose between you and Sarah, because I promise you that you will not like the result. Not at all."
"Charles, the CIA..."
"Please tell me you understand what I've just said," said Chuck, knuckles on the table and leaning over a little bit, getting just a bit into his dad's personal space.
"I understand," said Stephen.
Chuck backed up and smiled at the other man. "Good. I'm glad that's behind us."
"Yes," said Stephen, softly. "Well, Charles. Enjoy your dinner."
"Thanks, Dad. I hope to."
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A/N2: The settlement agreements widely used to take care of the sexual harassment allegations come under criticism from many sides. As the ladies' discussion shows, it can be a complicated issue. This isn't the last time the topic will come up.
A/N3: A few important conversations in this chapter. What do you guys think?