A/N: I'M BAAAAAACCCCKKKK. Hope you're still here. Still tough for me to type, and I'm not sure I'm going to be able to keep to my self-imposed weekly Saturday morning schedule, but I got this one out at least. Thanks for all of your good wishes.

A/N2: Still don't own Chuck? Bored of that particular discussion topic yet?

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For those who may have forgotten in my absence, Chuck, Sarah and Casey are meeting with Yuri Gobrienko, Alexei Volkoff's "man" but Chuck's asset, to purchase a sample of the SP-117 truth serum (first introduced in connection with Payne's murderous attempt to obtain the Sanctuary Report). The meet is in a ruin bar in Budapest, late on a Monday night early in January 2008.

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Yuri sat down at the table with them and put his steel briefcase on the floor at his feet. A bottle of vodka appeared with four glasses. Chuck didn't even realize this place had table service. He said to Yuri, a happy smile on his face, "It's good to see you, my friend."

"Good to see you too," said Yuri. "Good to see all of you." With his foot, he slid the briefcase on the floor closer to Chuck and said, "This is for you."

"Thank you. Do you have the routing and account numbers for the wire transfer? The sooner we initiate, the sooner your boss gets his money," said Chuck.

"You don't want to check the delivery?" asked Yuri.

"From you? Nope. No need," said Chuck.

Yuri smiled a little and said, in his deep Russian accented growl, "You sure you're a spy?"

Chuck grinned at him happily and said, "Nope"

Yuri looked to Casey and Sarah. Casey shrugged and grunted. Sarah smiled and said, "Don't look at us. He's in charge. You wanted him as your handler after all."

"Yes, I did. Didn't I?" With a look of happy pride, Yuri squeezed Chuck's forearm on the table with one of his enormous hands and said, "Sometimes I get it right." He took a slip of paper from his pocket and passed it to Chuck. While Chuck took the banking information and entered it on his phone, Yuri said to Sarah and Casey, "I keep an ear to the grapevine. I hear about a new American team operating out of the West Coast of the States. Incredibly successful team. Broke the White Dragons. Recovered the Sanctuary Report. Just busted a billionaire sadist and his Taiwanese counterfeiting operation." As he had been talking, he'd been pouring vodka into the glasses. Chuck finished his typing and looked up. Yuri slid a glass of vodka towards each of them and said, raising his glass, "Any one of those victories might be the highlight of another team's career... Malena never stood a chance." Yuri paused for dramatic effect. "I'm proud to be associated with you."

"Thank you, Yuri. You're a good man," said Chuck.

"Even if you have a reputation for eating people," said Sarah, with a laugh.

"Naw," said Casey. "It's because he has that reputation." They all laughed, clicked their glasses and drank down the clear smooth liquor in single swallows.

Yuri began to refill their glasses. Chuck said, "How are you? How's your mom doing?"

"I'm good, Chuck. Mom is good. Thanks for asking. She's aging, but the medicine you got for her is helping with her blood pressure. So far so good. Is your mom still around, Chuck?"

Chuck stopped smiling for a moment and said, "No. My mom left my family when I was little. I haven't seen her in twenty years. No idea where she is or even if she's still alive."

"Ah, that is terrible, my friend. I'm sorry for you."

With a shrug, Chuck said, "Thanks, Yuri. It's not something I think about too often."

Sarah thought she might have a conversation with Chuck about sharing personal information with people in the spy world. It would probably be fruitless, though, as Chuck would just take the position that Yuri was a friend, but it was worth having anyway she decided.

Yuri took another drink of his vodka and nodded. "That's wise...understandable, I suppose." From an inside pocket of his jacket, he took a cigarette case made of gray gunmetal and a gold Zippo cigarette lighter and proceeded to light a cigarette. His smoke was particularly acrid.

Sarah said, "How are things with Volkoff? How did he take it when we picked up La Cuidad?"

"What do you know about Volkoff?" asked Yuri, exhaling a plume of smoke.

His companions shrugged. Sarah said, "We haven't gotten the mission to look into him, so … very little, I guess. Can't tell you what the Agency knows though."

Yuri took a long drag from his cigarette and blew smoke towards the ceiling. "Well, you know he's an arms dealer. Much of that work is legal. Factories, distribution networks. Companies all over the world. Battalions of lawyers and accountants. Scientists doing R&D. Countries might frown upon it, but there's little they can do about that part of his business. But we all know that he is making his fortune outside his legal businesses. It is his illegal operations that are the difference. He's single minded in his pursuit of wealth and power. Nothing gets in his way and he is brilliant enough and paranoid enough to have risen to the top of a very vicious pack of contenders. Personally? Volkoff is unpredictable. One moment he's talking about ice cream and the next moment he's shooting someone in the head. What do they call that thing? In Russian we call it bipolyarnoye rasstroystvo."

Sarah said, "Bipolar disorder."

"Yes, that's it. Bipolar. Like two people in the same body. Between him and Frost they are some pretty terrifying people to work for."

"Who's Frost?" asked Casey.

"Volkoff's strong right hand. A woman. American. Probably from one of your intelligence agencies originally. I don't know how he got her, but she's been with him for decades. Before I ever joined his outfit."

"American? That sounds odd. Why would he use an American? Why would he trust an American? And decades ago would have been the height of the Cold War. A particularly odd time to pick an American right hand," said Sarah.

"Volkoff doesn't care. He'll use anything and everything to get what he wants. He's completely void of any ideology. He was a party member before the Soviet Union collapsed, midlevel bureaucrat in the Ministry of Defense Industry, but never really believed in Communism. Doesn't believe in anything really."

"So why an American?" asked Casey.

"He uses Frost because she is a deadly, scary enforcer. I once saw her shoot a man in both knees and both elbows, apply tourniquets, and only then begin the interrogation. She was just setting the mood. I'm sure Frost is the name she picked to express her inner nature. She is absolutely stone cold. A single look into her eyes and you know there is no soul...nothing there. Horrifying. I don't get scared, but she scares me. Any threat to Volkoff, she eliminates without mercy. She is single-minded in her loyalty."

"Sounds like you think she's a bit of a psycho," said Casey.

Yuri took a drag at his cigarette and nodded, "Yes. A bit. But brilliant, cold and ruthless. No one to underestimate. Not at all."

Yuri continued, "As to Malena, Volkoff couldn't have cared less what happened to her. He assigned me to help her. It was his way of testing her to see if he wanted to bring her into Volkoff Industries. To roll in La Ciudad's operations into his own. He wanted my judgement as to whether she'd be a good fit. The fact that you caught her, and the stolen Stingers, was conclusive evidence in his eyes that she would not have been a good fit. He was just pleased that I didn't get caught up in that net." Yuri gestured with his cigarette to emphasize the point.

"Personally? Will he miss her or feel bad for her? Not even a little. He couldn't give a shit about her. He's got no friends. Well, maybe Frost. He's not one of those social guys who want to be recognized or loved by their peers. Get together every once in a while to pat each other on the back and congratulate themselves on outwitting the authorities for another year. Big group therapy sessions fueled by good vodka and expensive champagne and cheap women. He couldn't care less about that stuff.

"Hell, a bunch of his competitors are congregating for a wedding. Victor Federov is getting married next week in Switzerland. There'll be a couple of dozen Russian luminaries there. Oligarchs, arms dealers, money launderers and their hired women. That's exactly the kind of thing that Volkoff would avoid. He declined the invitation and gave Federov a tank as a wedding gift." Yuri was laughing at the absurdity of the gesture, blowing smoke at the low ceiling. Yuri Gobrienko belly laughing in a Budapest ruin bar was a sight to see. "A goddamn tank. I'll bet your agencies will have teams there to watch them. Just to see if anyone stumbles."

"Well, I guess we will if we've heard about it. I'll tell the bosses and make sure they have some people there to watch it go down," said Sarah.

Yuri's phone beeped on the table. From an inside pocket of his jacket, he took out a small case and removed a folding pair of reading glasses, which he donned. The tiny glasses in his enormous hands looked like a toy. Then he turned the phone over and looked at the message. "Wire received. Nice doing business with trustworthy people," he said with a pleasant smile and a soft chuckle, putting away his glasses.

"Yuri, I'm CIA. I'm the least trustworthy person here," said Sarah, with a grin.

"I know," said Yuri, sipping his vodka. "I meant him," he said, gesturing at Chuck with the remains of his cigarette.

As he said that, Yuri glanced over her shoulder and grunted in surprise. His face hardened and his mood suddenly darkened.

Without turning, Casey said, "What is it, Yuri?" He and Sarah had both moved their hands towards their weapons.

"A very bad man. A man I'm going to kill," said Yuri, with a harsh growl.

"Can I turn and look?" asked Sarah. Yuri nodded and Sarah turned to scan the room behind her, being careful to not look at anyone in particular.

Yuri said, "Three tables back. Slicked back, black hair. Black goatee. White shirt."

Sarah made a 'hmmmm' sound and turned back to them. "Who is he?"

"His name is Dren Selenica. The Butcher of Prizren. One of the criminals from the March Pogrom. A Kosovar Albanian. He's a wanted war criminal. The Hague would love to get him on trial and they have a warrant out for him. But I'm going to cheat the hangman, as you Americans say."

"What did he do?" asked Chuck.

"He burned down a Seminary with elderly Serbs inside. Four years ago. Part of the ethnic cleansing of Kosovo by the Albanians. They were trying to run out the Serbs who had been there for generations. Of course, the Serbs called for help from the KFOR forces, and the Germans, constituting the local force, refused to intervene to help the Serbs. So much for the impartial administration of safety. If you're a Serb, it seems you can't rely on the West." He seemed to run out of steam with the explanation, but never took his eyes off Selenica.

"What's KFOR?" asked Chuck. [pronounced "Kay-4"]

"It's the Kosovo Force, kid," said Casey. "NATO led international force to keep the peace and prevent exactly the sort of shit that Yuri is describing."

"Did they really do what Yuri thinks they did?" asked Chuck, somewhat astonished.

Casey sort of shrugged and nodded at the same time, indicating that it was at least a possibility that Yuri's description was entirely accurate.

"How sure are you about the ID, Yuri?" Chuck asked.

"One hundred percent." He continued, "Dead man had been an old colleague of my mother's. I made a point of remembering this bastard's face. There were over fifty Serb homes destroyed. I forget how many churches. It was a pogrom. We call it the March Pogrom."

"Ok. Then we are going to collect him and turn him in to the authorities. If he's a wanted man they will turn him over to the Hague," said Chuck.

"No, Chuck," said Yuri with a slight smile. "I'm going to kill him." He pulled at his cigarette and looked at Chuck with confidence. He was just explaining to Chuck how things were going to work.

Chuck looked into Yuri's eyes very seriously, but also with a pleasant friendly expression, and said, calmly and slowly, "No. You're not. You're one of the good guys now. We aren't going to kill him. We are going to bop him over the head and give him to the cops. That's what the good guys do, Yuri."

Yuri sat up straighter in his seat, his size normally intimidating, and looked down at Chuck with a scowl. He drew a breath to speak, but didn't. Something he saw in Chuck's eyes had stopped him.

Casey and Sarah were watching with a great deal of surprise and maybe a little concern. Chuck Bartowski, the Nerd Herd supervisor, was staring down Yuri Gobrienko, Alexei Volkoff's killer. Chuck was telling the other man how this was going to be played. He was asserting his control as Yuri's handler, gently and easily, but very firmly. Neither man looked away for what seemed to be almost a minute. Chuck's brown eyes were clear and calm and steady. Yuri was trying to look ferocious, but it seemed the effort was wasted on Chuck.

The moment stretched.

Then Yuri blinked.

"Ok, Chuck." With a laugh, Yuri poured a vodka into Chuck's glass and his own. "We'll do it your way. Bop him over the head and turn him in. He'll die in prison, I guess." Casey and Sarah exhaled and glanced at each other. Once again, Chuck had impressed them just by being Chuck. She would have a long talk about this with him later, but for the moment – wow. Even Casey was impressed, but internally he shrugged and said, to himself, 'I knew it all along,'

Sarah looked back at Selenica.

Chuck said, downing the vodka with Yuri, "Thanks, Yuri. I think that's going to work out..."

"Guys," said Sarah, "We've got a problem. I just recognized that guy he's with. He's an officer of the IH. Your friend Selenica is connected, Yuri."

"What's the IH?" Chuck asked.

"The Információs Hivatal. The Hungarian CIA," said Sarah.

"Ah, shit," said Casey. "How do you know?"

"I met the guy once a few years ago. At a meeting here. I don't remember his name, but he was involved in the Balkans. Watching over things there for the IH, feeding the intel to NATO. If he's having a meet with Selenica, I guess he still is."

"So much for turning him over to the cops," said Yuri. "He's an IH asset."

"Well, the Hungarian cops, at least. Hungary has a border with Serbia. Would the Serb authorities be happy to get him?" asked Chuck.

With a wolfish grin, Yuri said, "Very happy. But I don't know if he would survive long enough to make it to the Hague."

"He would if the international press is alerted that the Serbs have him. With the media spotlight on them, they wouldn't dare kill him outright," said Sarah.

With a shrug, Yuri conceded that the plan might work. "So, what do we do?" he asked.

Casey said, "We follow him, carefully so that the spy he's with doesn't notice, and take him when they separate."

"Ok," said Yuri with a nod.

"Do you have a car here?" Sarah asked Yuri.

"Yes, out front," he replied.

"Better pull it around. I'll go with you and stay on foot, in case they choose to walk," she said.

"Chuck and I will keep an eye on them from here. Let you know when they are leaving," said Casey. He looked at Yuri and said, "We have our own closed encrypted communications net." He pointed to his ear by way of explanation. "We'll follow them out."

"Right," said Sarah. She leaned over and gave Chuck a quick kiss.

"Be safe," Chuck said. He looked at Yuri and said, "Both of you."

Yuri, standing, said, "Thank you, Chuck. You and Casey too." He stubbed out his cigarette and followed Sarah out of the bar.

Chuck and Casey continued to sit in the bar, sipping their beers, but now ignoring the vodka. Casey left some forints on the table to pay for the vodka. How did he end up buying the drinks again, anyway? They were watching their target without seeming to.

After a while, Selenica and the IH man paid their bill and stood to leave. Casey said, "They are standing to leave."

Sarah said, "Right. I'm out front and Yuri has pulled his car around. It's a black Mercedes G-Class truck...SUV. It's to the left as you leave the front door. We're holding an open phone line, so he can hear me."

"Got it," said Casey. He nodded to Chuck. Chuck stood up and jerked his head behind him, with a cocked eyebrow. Should he exit by the back door for more coverage? Good question, thought Casey. Considering for a moment, he shook his head 'no' as their target moved to the front door. Chuck nodded his agreement.

Chuck picked up the briefcase at his feet containing $500,000 worth of SP-117 and followed Casey through the crowded bar.

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Sarah, her bright blonde hair stuffed up under a dark ski cap, was standing in a dark doorway across the street and watching the front door of the bar. She saw Selenica and his companion leave the bar and head to the parked cars. She gave a running commentary for the benefit of the rest of her team, which now included Yuri. The men stopped in front of a car to seem to say their farewells. But whose car was it? Moments later the IH man took the car and Selenica walked on to a second car. An Opel Astra 4-door sedan in silver (or gray, it was tough to tell at night).

As he got in the car, Sarah ran back to Yuri's SUV and jumped into one of the rear seats. Casey and Chuck were already in the car, Casey in front and Chuck next to her.

"So, what's the plan, guys?" asked Yuri.

"No need to get complicated," said Casey. "We ambush him when he gets out of his car. Tranquilize him. Throw him in the back and drive to the Serbian border. How long is the drive?"

"Couple of hours. Maybe less. We have a tranquilizer kit?" asked Yuri.

"Chuck carries a trank gun," said Sarah. "He doesn't want to hurt anybody, but he's put the gun to good use so far."

Yuri looked at Chuck a little startled. "That's why you won't let me kill him. You don't want to hurt anyone."

"Yeah. I mean, not if I can help it. I know you've killed...you all have...all three of you...but if we can avoid it...well, it's just that death is so final, you know? No going back. No appeal. No nothing. Can't talk about it. If we can avoid it..."

"Ok," Yuri said, pensively, pulling out behind Selenica's Opel.

"Don't crowd him, Yuri," said Casey. "We don't want him to make us."

"You think this is the first time I've tailed someone? You think I'm a novice at this, Casey?" said Yuri, offended. "You know tailing was inventing in Russia. We were the first..."

"Tailing wasn't invented in Russia," said Casey. "That's insane. There's probably someone tailing someone in the Bible, for God's sake."

"Guys," said Sarah. "Focus." Yuri huffed, Casey grunted, and Chuck chuckled. He reached out and took Sarah's hand.

For a single car to trail another car through urban traffic without being identified as such was not only difficult, but was almost impossible. Yuri managed it expertly, but in truth, they had a good bit of luck. Most often, he managed to keep a car or two between them and Selenica's Opel.

They headed south through Pest and, turning westward towards Buda, crossed the Rákóczi Bridge with its tall T-shaped light fixtures, the southernmost bridge across the Danube and one of the newer ones. The lights of the city sparkled on the cold black waters of the river to their right. At the late hour on a Monday night, traffic was light, but Yuri made the most of what there was.

Into the Buda hills, the houses began to grow in size, but right on the same blocks were obviously lower class houses for the less well-to-do. When Chuck mentioned that, Yuri explained that it was a holdover from Hungary's communist past. The government would reshuffle the population as it saw fit, with the goal of eliminating so-called "nice" neighborhoods and "not-nice" neighborhoods. It presented an interesting juxtaposition.

It's no surprise that tailing another car without being noticed gets increasingly difficult as traffic lightens. In another stroke of luck, Selenica's Opel pulled to the curb only a few blocks into a hilly, residential neighborhood. Just around the corner, Chuck and Casey bailed out of Yuri's car and began to walk back down the street towards Selenica. They were laughing and acting slightly drunk, although neither was attempting to speak Hungarian.

Selenica was working to get the key into the lock of the fence gate in front of one of the homes as they passed him. Neither man looked at him. But, soon after they passed, he felt a sting in his right butt cheek. He collapsed to the pavement.

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A/N3: Guess everybody saw what I did with the Federov wedding. I'm again taking advantage of this medium to take our friends out of LA. Not to get too grumpy about canon, but does anyone really think that a Russian oligarch/mobster/arms dealer (circa 2008) would get married in LA in January? Come on. Everybody knows that those guys were hanging around in Switzerland in those years. So, here was a little telegraphing about our next arc, I guess.

A/N4: Prizren. The March Pogrom. We will get a few different views of the events of the Balkan Wars in this story. My mom always taught me that there were three sides to every argument: your side, his side, and the truth. I will not present any inaccurate facts (so far as I know), but please do pay attention to who is reciting the facts. They are unlikely to be neutrally edited.

A/N5: 'I thought the Serbs were the bad guys in the Balkan Wars,' I hear you say. 'What's an Albanian Kosovar doing here?' Well, a quick check of the list of war criminals indicted by the International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia (ICTY) established at the Hague, will, I think, show that there are multiple parties who committed terrible offences during that conflict. Although the Serbs may have gotten the bulk of the blame in the Western nations, they were nowhere close to being the only miscreants.

A/N6: I'm still not up to snuff with my typing and production. I'm shooting to get the next chapter out next Saturday, but that's not a foregone conclusion at this point. Please be patient. Thanks for all of your support and good wishes, they really do mean the world to me. Also, I've been reading up a storm but have been unable to review for a while. I'm going to try to rectify that too.