A/N: Thank you for the "favorites," the "follows," the reviews, and the PM's. As much as I enjoy writing, what gives me the greatest joy is interacting with you the readers, so thank you for your amazing and continued support!
This is an important transitional chapter, as it lays the foundation for several key elements of the story line that will develop into their own threads, and inevitably run into each other causing some excitement. I hope you enjoy it, and find a minute or two to follow, favorite, review, and/or PM me.
Also, please give some thought to joining the Chuck FanFic group on Facebook. It is really great for a lot of reasons, not the least of which is getting fresh updates on new stories or new chapters being released.
Thanks to Nevr for pre/beta reading, and of course, I don't own Chuck or profit financially from writing this completely AU story. I also have no financial interest in Facebook or the Chuck Fanfic community.
-O-
Valkyrie's Invisible Shield
Chapter 3 – London Calling
Date: Monday, 6 December 2021
Time: 18:00 GMT
Location: Savoy Hotel – The Strand, London UK – Suite of Daniel Shaw
Daniel Shaw sat comfortably in his luxurious suite at the Savoy. The disgraced former CIA agent had built a lucrative second career arranging the most improper things for some of the world's most improper people. The suite at the Savoy in London was insanely expensive, but he could afford it, and since he was persona non grata in the United States, he spent about four months a year in London and the rest of the year in Dubai, where taxes and movement of large sums of money were easier to manage. He had poured himself a glass of vintage port and was about to enjoy his first sip when his tablet computer pinged. He gently placed the crystal goblet on a coaster, retrieved the tablet, and went through the numerous security protocols to open the messaging app.
V – I want him out of office, but twenty million is insane.
Shaw thought about the message for a moment. "Volkoff. Fucking Russian dilettante." He muttered to himself.
S – World's biggest target should have the world's biggest price tag.
Shaw waited for a response and didn't need to wait long.
V – You are sure this guy is good enough to do the job? That he can deliver?
S – He is the absolute best in his field, and I personally guarantee the outcome. But if you want to play, you have to pay.
Hans Gruber was, without question, one of the world's foremost fixers. His reputation was incredible, and accordingly, so was what he charged for a contract. Gruber was never easy to find, even for a repeat arranger like Shaw. That was probably the main reason for the man's incredible longevity in a business where most get caught or killed within a couple of years of getting started. Gruber had been in the game for almost twenty years. When Shaw proposed taking a sitting US President out of office, Gruber decided it was time to raise his rates. He usually charged between half a million to one million US Dollars for kidnappings and more for assassinations, depending on the target and the complexity of the job. For this one, even though assassination was not specified, he was going to charge ten million. And Shaw, never being shy about the value he added as an arranger, tacked on another ten million.
Despite Shaw's past, the CIA had agreed to let him live as a free man as long as he never set foot back in the country, provided them with the necessary intelligence when requested, and made sure his private ventures were not detrimental to the interests of the United States. Volkoff's contract was a rare opportunity, and if he played it right, he would become even wealthier, and possibly, his banishment from the United States might be reversed. So, there was no way he would let fucking Alexei Volkoff haggle over the job….No way!
S – Payment is required in full by Friday to the Swiss account as directed. If the funds are not deposited by COB, I will cancel the contract, but you and I will never work together again. Friday…..Close of Business, please.
He put the tablet in sleep mode, retrieved his crystal goblet of port, took a slow, luxurious sip, and leaned back into his feather-stuffed wing chair. He let the rich ruby liquid warm him and soothe the anger that flared from Volkoff's messages. Slowly, a smile started to appear as he thought about his plan. Things were going to change for Daniel Shaw, but for the moment, he needed to be patient. He needed Volkoff's twenty million in the Swiss account before he could start setting the dominos to fall. He had already set up the first one by leaking information about someone going after the President of the United States. His stooge was a stupid but ambitious mid-level street boss, and he knew that information would quickly find its way through the UK's intelligence community network and then to the United States, where the CIA would inevitably pick it up. Once the CIA had the information, they would almost certainly reach out to Daniel Shaw and seek his help in identifying the person who was behind the plans. Shaw would pay Gruber for his services, then would extort money from the CIA while at the same time setting up Volkoff. The last piece of the plan was to wait for Volkoff to lose all hope before offering to help him escape. To do that, Shaw would demand access to Volkoff's remaining assets, and once he had access to those, he would kill Volkoff. Nothing but upside for Shaw.
Shaw was clever and ruthless, but because of his over-inflated ego, he never thought about why Volkoff would want the US President out of the way. Sure, the sanctions were painful, but it's not like Volkoff was ever going to be poor. In fact, Volkoff seemed to fare better than many Russian crime bosses who settled outside of Russia. Volkoff always seemed to know what was coming and when and then managed to move funds and assets to places where they were much harder to sequester. His two-hundred-foot yacht was safely moored in Caracas, Venezuela. His Dassault Falcon 900EX was safely hangered at Pulkovo Airport on the south side of Saint Petersburg. A significant portion of his cash had been moved out of US Dollars and into countries where American sanctions were hard to enforce and the money hard to grab, and most of his industrial holdings were in Russia. So while the US could squash many of his contracts, all the US could really seize was property, plant, and equipment located in jurisdictions that agreed to play by the American's rules. Those assets had been taken along with US dollars on deposit in the US and Western Europe, along with a townhouse in London, a house in the south of France, a Penthouse apartment in New York, and a few other bits and pieces. But when things eventually got back to normal, he would have plenty of resources with which to rebuild and expand. Shaw should have seen this had he looked beyond his greed as the opportunity fell into his lap….but he didn't.
-O-
Date: Wednesday, 8 December 2021
Time: 14:00 EST
Location: St. Regis Hotel - Eighty-Eight, W Paces Ferry Rd NW, Atlanta, Georgia
The fundraising event had gone well. There was no shortage of simpletons with deep pockets who gladly shelled out two thousand dollars per seat to eat vulcanized chicken and flaccid asparagus with a wilted, overdressed salad while listening to the mind-numbing platitudes of the political elite.
He was tired of these events and of being so close to real power without having any himself. With the dinner behind him, he settled into the presidential suite, poured himself a drink, and picked up his encrypted phone. He dialed the only number programmed on it, and the call was immediately picked up.
"Da," The heavily accented voice responded.
"Alexei, how are you, my friend?" the man asked jovially.
"I'm fine, but do not use my name on these calls," Volkoff responded.
"Relax, Alexei. This call is from an encrypted phone. Now, are we all set?"
"Da. I need to move the funds by Friday; once done, the commission cannot be revoked. The arranger I used can't tell me when or how it will happen; that is up to the contractor, but the arranger guarantees delivery."
"That is excellent news, Alexei. The sooner this happens, the sooner you and I can progress our agendas. The future will be very bright for both of us. I don't need to tell you to make sure there are no fuck-ups. Fuck-ups will make me very unhappy." The man then switched to surprisingly good Russian, "Vy ponimayete menya?" (Do you understand me?)
"Da. YA ponimayu." (Yes. I understand.)
"Spasibo tovarishch." (Thank you, comrade.) The man responded before closing the call and taking a sip of his drink. He closed his eyes for a moment to relish the flavor of the whiskey. He picked up another phone and dialed a number.
"Kraken Capital, Mike Johnson's office," responded the private secretary of Kraken Capital's managing partner. "May I ask who is calling?"
"Ernest Bluefield." He used a false identity.
"Mr. Bluefield. Of course. Just a moment please." There was a moment of pleasant-sounding music, and then Mike Johnson picked up the call.
"Ernest. What can I do for you?"
"Mike, I want to put in a standing order to buy Vostock Oil & Gas. The company is basically bankrupt, and given the sanctions, the stock is worth about thirty to forty cents a share, but I see an upside. Buy as much as you can, and keep buying until I tell you otherwise, even if you need to buy it on margin….but keep it quiet and buy it through the special trust account in the Caymans."
Johnson thought about the order quietly for a moment while looking up the stock. Vostock had already sold most of their oil and gas deeds, and their pipeline to Germany was completely shut down due to the sanctions. Perhaps the mysterious Mr. Bluefield knew something others didn't, and perhaps that was inappropriate or even illegal, but that wasn't Kraken's problem, and given this was stock traded only on the Moscow exchange, their commission on the trades would be considerably higher. "Ok. Consider it done." Johnson then prepared the order for his team in London to start buying Vostock Oil and Gas.
The conversation with Johnson ended, as did his drink, and he shifted his thoughts away from his ambitions and schemes. A confirmed bachelor, the man thought about how beautiful the women of Georgia were and how many were in attendance at the evening's fundraising dinner. Perhaps he'd make his way to the hotel bar and see if he couldn't find one who had managed to detach herself from her boring husband to look for some distraction with a powerful man in the presidential suite. Tomorrow, he was to fly to Chicago for more rubber chicken and fake smiles, but tonight, he might have some fun. As he exited the suite, his security detail immediately formed around him.
"Bear is on the move," a member of his protective detail spoke into his microphone as the group moved towards the elevator bank for a ride to the lobby.
-O-
Date: Wednesday, 8 December 2021
Time: 18:30 EST
Location: Normandie Court - 225 East 95th Street, New York City – Walker/Miller Residence
Carina's phone rang.
"Ms. Miller, you have a Mr. Grimes in the lobby to see you," the doorman announced politely.
"Thank you, please send him up."
The doorman turned to Morgan. "She is expecting you, Sir, 19th floor apartment C."
Morgan thanked the doorman, made his way to the elevator, and, within a minute and a half, stepped out to see Carina leaning by the door of the apartment.
"Hi, Morgan." Carina smiled pleasantly. "Glad you could come before Sarah got home. Let's get you settled."
Morgan smiled and followed her into the apartment and then into her bedroom.
"Morgan, I sleep on that side of the bed," Carina pointed to the bed furthest from the door. "So I moved some of my things from the nightstand on your side. I also cleared some space for you in the closet if you need to hang anything up." Carina smiled.
"Thanks, Carina. We really appreciate your help, and I'll do my best to not be disruptive." He looked at the bed and hesitated for a moment, a slight blush creeping up his neck.
"Agent Grimes, are you shy? Or nervous? I mean, you have shared a bed with a girl before, right?" Carina flirted easily, having a little fun at Morgan's expense.
"Yes, of course. I mean, no. I'm not…." He paused to collect himself. "Sorry. Yes. Of course, I've shared a bed with a girl before. I think it was in 4th grade, and my parents had rented a cabin for the holidays with my aunt and uncle, and I had to share a bed with my cousin Becky. She was six. So yes, I'm experienced…"
Carina barked out a laugh. "You are a funny guy, Special Agent Morgan Grimes. I like that, but don't get any ideas." She waggled her finger at him.
"No, Ma'am. No funny business. Scout's honor. Pinkie, promise!" Morgan's face was solemn as he made the three-fingered salute of the Boy Scouts, then extended his hand with the pinkie finger extended.
Carina chuckled at his antics and, with her own pinkie, encircled his. "Ok. But just because you were a Boy Scout and pinkie promised….wait, were you actually a Boy Scout?"
"Uhm, no. Not a day in my life, but I did pinkie promise, so there's that." He smiled.
Their fingers remained connected for perhaps a half second longer than necessary, and then Morgan broke the moment. They agreed that after Morgan put his things away, they would sit and discuss some cover details and boundaries. It had been a few days since their initial conversation, so they replayed the basics of when they met, what they talked about, and how they had left things off.
"Carina, can we discuss PDAs?" Morgan's pink rose a little again. "I want to make sure that our interaction is spontaneous and relaxed, and to do that, we need to set some parameters so neither of us makes the other uncomfortable and breaks the cover."
Carina looked pensive for a moment, then stepped towards Morgan, cupped his cheeks, and gave him a full kiss on the lips. She pulled back for a moment to see Morgan completely frozen, then dove in again, this time grabbing his hands and putting them on her ass. She aggressively pushed her tongue into his mouth and pulled him tighter to her body. It took Morgan an additional second or two to react, but when he did, he responded by firmly squeezing Carina's ass, causing her to whimper. A moment later, the two stepped back from each other, both surprised by the heat they each felt, followed by an awkward silence as both momentarily avoided eye contact.
"Well," sighed Carina, "you've had your tongue down my throat and your hands on my ass, so I think we can handle a little hand-holding and occasional peck on the cheek without getting uncomfortable….don't you, Agent Grimes?"
"Totally. Totally comfortable on my side, by the way," Morgan stuttered. "Just sayin."
Some tension between the two remained after the unexpected ice-breaking kiss, but Morgan and Carina managed to get through the rest of the open topics without further difficulty. As things settled, Carina went to open a bottle of wine and invited Morgan to relax on the couch with her until Sarah arrived. As she drank wine, Morgan limited himself to Diet Coke and as they waited, they began to talk about their respective careers, their friends and families, and growing up. Before long, Morgan noticed that the bottle of wine was almost finished while he was still nursing his soda. Had this been an actual date, both Carina and Morgan would have been very pleased with how things were progressing. The two were getting deeper into the conversation when the distinctive sound of a key unlocking a door pierced their happy little bubble.
"Sarah! Hey, welcome home." Carina got up from the couch, then reached back and grabbed Morgan's hand. "Sarah, this is Morgan."
"Ms. Walker, It's a pleasure to meet you." Morgan moved forward, letting go of Carina's hand so he could offer to shake Sarah's hand.
"Morgan, Hi. It's very nice to meet you as well. Carina tells me you are with the Secret Service, but I don't recall meeting you." Sarah smiled warmly.
"Yes, Ma'am. I'm pretty new to the White House detail. I've only been there for two months. Before that, I was on a detail protecting the former President." Morgan returned Sarah's smile, and his hand found Carina's again.
"Morgan. Are you on duty?" Sarah's question was asked in a somewhat serious tone that caught both Carina and Morgan a little off guard.
"No, Ma'am. I was owed a little time off, so I am on vacation, though I am required to keep my credentials and weapon on me at all times. I hope that does not trouble you."
"Not at all, Morgan, but since you are not working and we are not in the White House, please call me Sarah."
"Yes, Ma'am. I mean Sarah, Ma'am…sorry….Sarah." Morgan smiled sheepishly.
"See," Carina smiled broadly. "Isn't he cute?" She squeezed his cheeks with her free hand and gave him a peck.
"Very cute, Carina." Sarah chuckled at her friend's antics, which seemed to make Morgan a little uncomfortable in front of her. "Is there any wine left, or did you drink it all?"
Carina poured Sarah a glass while asking Morgan to get another bottle from the kitchen, and once he returned, the three sat on the couch with Carina leaning against Morgan, her hand resting nonchalantly on his thigh.
"So," Sarah started with the questions. "How did you guys manage to meet while I didn't see Morgan at all?"
Morgan and Carina looked at each other for a moment, then Carina nodded to Morgan.
"Well, Sarah," Morgan dove in. "We would have met earlier, but it didn't work out, and I only had to cover an eight-hour shift on the Friday after Thanksgiving because I traded off with my partner, who flew home for the holidays. I wasn't anywhere near the residence side of the White House at that time, so I only happened to stumble into Carina by accident. I recognized her, asked her if she was lost, and then we started talking a little, and well, there you have it."
"What do you mean we would have met earlier, Morgan?" Sarah asked.
"I was at the airport to pick you up when you arrived for Thanksgiving. My partner, Chuck Bartowski, went in to meet your flight, but I was driving the truck. So we didn't actually meet." Morgan smiled and left it at that.
Sarah dropped her head into her hands for a moment, then looked up sheepishly at Morgan while Carina grinned. "Not my best first impression, I'm afraid," Sarah said quietly, shaking her head. "I meant to apologize to Agent Bartowski for my less-than-stellar behavior, but I didn't see him again."
"Yeah, he left very early Thanksgiving morning to fly to California to see his sister and brother-in-law. I was covering his shift Friday morning when I met Carina, so lucky me." He smiled at Carina, who visibly tightened her grip on his thigh.
"Now I feel embarrassed. Morgan, please tell him I apologize for being so bitchy. I wasn't mad at him, really. I was upset that my mother made the arrangements after I specifically told her not to. I love my parents to death, but they can be over protective and seem to have trouble respecting the boundaries I set so I can live my life. Regrettably, Special Agent Bartowski was closest when I vented my frustration." Sarah sounded genuinely contrite.
"I will, Sarah, and I'm sure he will be glad to hear it because he really thought he might have done something to upset you. I haven't known Chuck for that long, but I can tell you he is probably the nicest guy I've ever worked with. I told him you were probably just having a bad day, traveling on Thanksgiving, you know? But Chuck, well, he felt like he screwed up, so when the boss asked him what happened, he kind of took responsibility, even though he had no idea what he did." Morgan smiled as Sarah hid behind her hands in shame.
"So, when I yelled at him, then stomped on his foot and elbowed him in the gut before storming off into the White House, you saw all that?" Sarah blanched.
"In living color, Sarah," Morgan shared. "By the way, you have no idea how close you came to accidentally getting head-butted by Chuck. When you elbowed him, he bent forward, and his forehead missed the back of your head by like an inch."
As Sarah covered her face again, Carina started laughing out loud. "You know what, Blondie? Morgan here isn't going to apologize on your behalf. This is one you get to fix yourself. Morgan, can you call Chuck and tell him someone needs to apologize."
Sarah's face popped up from her hands, staring sharply at Carina while Morgan stood monetarily frozen, unsure if this was Carina joking or not. Carina slowly turned towards Morgan and commanded him with an evil grin. "Morgan, please call Chuck so Sarah here can apologize, or you will be using your phone to make new sleeping arrangements."
This was a potentially critical moment in selling the cover so Morgan didn't hesitate. "Yes, my queen!" With a serious tone and a slight bow of the head he grabbed his phone, hit speed dial, and handed the phone to Carina, who turned on the speaker function.
"Bartowski."
Sarah momentarily froze.
"Hello? Morgan? Is that you?"
Sarah appeared panicked as she waved her extended hand across her neck begging Carina to hang up, only to see carina's eyes twinkle mischievously, extending the awkward silence on the phone. Carina then gave Sarah a sharp look and nodded towards the phone.
Sarah closed her eyes for a moment, sighed quietly as she shrugged her shoulders, then put on a brave face. "Uhm, Agent Bartowski? This is Sarah Walker."
"Ms. Walker?" The call was totally unexpected. With Morgan in the apartment, Chuck wasn't using any of the monitoring equipment, but he caught his bearings quickly. "Yes, Ma'am, how can I be of service, Ma'am?" Chuck was focused on being measured, courteous, and above all professional.
"Agent Bartowski, I am terribly embarrassed by my behavior over Thanksgiving weekend, and I wanted to call and apologize personally." Sarah calmed herself as she spoke and felt a little better about setting things right, even though Carina made her do it.
"No apology necessary, Ma'am. These things can happen, and traveling can be very stressful, so please don't concern yourself."
"Thank you, Agent Bartowski, that is very kind of you, but aside from being rude, I also practically assaulted you in front of the White House, so I intend to remain on the line until you accept my apology."
"Yes, Ma'am. Thank you, Ma'am. Apology fully accepted then." Sarah could almost hear a smile in Chuck's voice.
"Thank you, Agent Bartowski, and please stop calling me ma'am. It makes me feel like an old lady. As long as it's not an official function where you might get in trouble, please call me Sarah."
There was a pause on the line as Chuck was a little taken aback by Sarah's friendly and informal tone. "Thank you, Sarah. And please feel free to call me Chuck. If there is anything I can do for you, please don't hesitate to call me."
"Thank you, Chuck. I do have one question, though." Sarah smirked at Carina. "Are you aware that your partner is in New York? He seems to have come up to spend some time with my roommate. Are you aware of this?"
"I am. Morgan told me about meeting her at the White House and that he planned to use his vacation time to visit her in NY. I presume that is how you have his phone?" Chuck asked.
"It is," Sarah replied. "And is your partner an honorable guy? Do I need to worry about him consorting with my best friend?"
"Not at all," Chuck responded without hesitation. "Morgan and I have only been working together a short while, but he was the guy who gave me his day off so I could visit my sister and make a long weekend over Thanksgiving. He is a good, good guy. Nothing for you to worry about there, Sarah."
"Ok, Chuck, but if you are lying to me, I'm going to find you and make you pay." Sarah's voice definitely had a flirt in it, causing Carina to grab the phone away from Sarah.
"Hi Chuck, It's Carina, Sarah's friend. Sarah would love to apologize in person, so if you have any days off, why don't you come to NY?"
"Carina!" Sarah lunged for the phone, but Carina saw the move coming and whisked the phone away and out of Sarah's reach.
"Chuck, Sarah thinks you are cute, so let Morgan know when you can come to New York. Bye." She clicked off the line, grinning happily at her best friend, while Sarah's death stare looked like it could cut through furniture.
Morgan looked at the two women, quietly took his phone from Carina, and slipped it into his pocket. "Ladies, more wine?"
-O-
Date: Wednesday, 9 December 2021
Time: 23:30 EST
Location: Normandie Court - 225 East 95th Street, New York City – Walker/Miller Residence
By 11:30 pm, Sarah and Carina had consumed another bottle of wine and hugged each other, earlier transgressions forgotten, while Morgan had switched to sparking water. The three had ordered some Indian food for delivery, and as they ate, drank, and chit-chatted, Sarah's focus on a harsh cross examination of Special Agent Grimes lost its edge. Moreover, as the wine softened the women's inhibitions, Sarah's curiosity got the best of her, and she asked Morgan to tell her more about Special Agent Chuck Bartowski. Morgan shared what he could, but he didn't know all that much about Chuck. He knew he was extremely close to his older sister. Apparently, she raised Chuck from a young age after his parents were tragically killed in an accident, though he didn't know the whole story. Besides, that was Chuck's story to tell. He explained that Chuck had joined the Department of the Treasury because of his expertise in using technology, which was increasingly important in tracking down counterfeit currency and financial crime. Somehow, John Casey, the head of the Secret Service Presidential Security team learned about Bartowski scoring off the charts in the entrance aptitude tests and grabbed him. In Casey's own words, Bartowski was the smartest kid he'd ever worked with and burned through the training program like a hot knife through butter. He also shared that Chuck had a full academic scholarship to Stanford and graduated at the top of his class. Chuck Bartowski could have done anything he wanted, but he chose a life of service. As Morgan finished telling what he knew about Chuck Bartowski, he realized he was a little in awe of his partner. He also realized that the room had gotten very quiet and that both women, notably Sarah Walker, seemed fascinated by his partner's unlikely story.
"So, Morgan," Sarah, warmed by the wine and the story, leaned back, crossing her legs, letting her pump dangle precariously off her toe. "Does Chuck have anyone special in his life?"
Carina looked at her friend affectionately. "Sarah, would you like to borrow Morgan's phone and call Chuck to ask him?"
Morgan was surprised that Sarah didn't really react. She just sat there with her glass of wine and a tranquil smile. "Maybe, but not right now. I drank a little too much, and I need to get to bed. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day, and I need some rest." She gathered herself, putting her pump back on her foot correctly, and stood. "Morgan, I'm glad you're here for my friend, and thank you for telling us a little about your partner." She gave Carina a hug and a peck on the cheek. "Good night, you two." Then she turned and disappeared into her bedroom, closing the door.
Carina and Morgan watched Sarah disappear, and after taking a couple of minutes to clean up the food and drinks, they made their way to Carina's bedroom and the first night of their cover together. Morgan sat on the edge of the bed as Carina got herself ready in the bathroom. The introduction of Morgan and his cover relationship with Carina had gone well. Really well. Maybe even too well. As Morgan reflected on the evening's events, he wondered if the lines had already become a little blurred. There was a lot at stake here, and both he and Chuck needed to stay on mission, but he couldn't help but feel some sort of an emotional connection had developed. And not just between him and Carina. He wondered if they were playing too close to the fire. His moment of introspection was disrupted when Carina came out of the bathroom wearing a dark blue silk teddy that set off her blue eyes and red hair.
"Morgan, you can close your mouth now, dear." Carina smiled coyly. "And the bathroom is all yours."
Morgan took a second to get his bearings, then gathered his pajamas and went in to change. When he came out, Carina was lying on her side, her head propped up against her hand, as she watched Morgan approach his side of the bed. He slid in beside her and turned to face her.
"Thank you, Carina. You were amazing today."
"You, too, Morgan." She then turned and clicked off the lights.