A/N: I never get bored of discussing ownership of Chuck. Awright...maybe sometimes.
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Sarah was furious, "Just what the hell did you think you were doing, Casey? You had no right to do this behind our backs. Why didn't you tell us what you had in mind?"
"In order to avoid this conversation until it was too late for you to stop it," said Casey without raising his voice at all. He sat calmly on the couch in the hotel suite with his legs crossed and one arm resting on the back of the couch cushions while Sarah and Chuck stood facing him. He was clearly just going to let her anger burn itself out.
"You knew we would object and you went ahead and brought her onto the team anyway," accused Sarah.
"Well, not her in particular. That was Graham's choice. But, yes, I arranged for a woman to join the team in case we had another seduction mission to run. I made the call to Graham soon after we got back from Vegas."
After the tense greeting of CIA Agent Amy Turner, Amy had noted the surprise of two thirds of the team and the resultant strained atmosphere. She had quickly excused herself to the hotel's lobby to give them a chance to talk amongst themselves. Chuck had run a quick scan of the suite to make sure there were no wireless microphones and then the excrement had hit the fan.
"I can still run seduction missions. The Kirk thing was an aberration," Sarah said with certainty.
"Nope. You puked on the guy. Not exactly in the bag of tricks of any porn star I've ever seen," said Casey.
"Case, Sarah is right. I just went on a whole thing that my going to the Farm was a team decision. That's what we do. We make decisions together. We don't go wandering off on our own. This decision affects us all," said Chuck.
"Sorry, Bartowski. No good. You'd have taken the position that Sarah can continue to do seduction missions, even though it was ripping your guts out. You would have been so concerned that she not see you as a possessive controlling boyfriend, that you'd have forced yourself to go along with something that you fucking hated. So, I saved you the agony of the decision. I'd have been outvoted, even though I'm right. Your relationship is screwing up your logic here." Sarah took a breath to vehemently deny that accusation, but Casey raised a hand for her to stop. "It is, Sarah. Think about it. You're both trying so hard to bend over backwards to show me and everybody else that your relationship with each other has no effect whatsoever on your ability to do your work, that you can't see it straight. It's just not that complicated. Of course, it has an effect on your work. Of course, it does. And naturally so. Be totally weird if it didn't. It's a part of you both, for God's sake. No mystery behind it and no criticism can be made. Seduction missions are off the table for you. For Bartowski too, if the situation were ever reversed. Sorry, that's just the way it is. Anyway, it's done now. Turner's on the team," said Casey.
"Casey, I mean it. She's not necessary. I can still do those sorts..."
"Sarah, how many married agents do those missions? Huh? How many? How about none? No married agents are sent to do that. None. It's a stupid idea. And when their spouse is another spy on the same team? That's totally absurd. It's a recipe for disaster." Casey was still speaking calmly, but there was no mistaking his certainty.
"Well, we're not married," Sarah said, but by this point her objection sounded half-hearted even to her. Casey just looked at her and rolled his eyes with an expression of exasperation.
With a heavy sigh, Chuck said, "Sarah, we can make it work. It won't change the relationship that the three of us have. Casey isn't altogether wrong here. It's done. We just have to deal with it now. Getting all twisted up about how it happened isn't helpful."
Sarah sighed and said, "Alright. But I still think you should have talked to us about it, Case."
"Noted," he said. He was clearly not going to admit that he had done anything wrong in taking this matter into his own hands, so it was time to move on. Casey said, "I'll go down to the lobby and bring her back up. We can give her a proper greeting this time around."
Casey left the suite. Chuck said to Sarah, "His heart was in the right place, Sweetie. He wanted to keep you from having to do more … of that kind of stuff."
"I know, but he still should have talked to us about it," she said. She didn't sound as angry as she had at first. Seemingly, she was accepting the new status quo.
Shortly, Amy arrived with Casey. She grinned at them and said, with a little bit of a flounce, "I'll try again. Hi, guys. You miss me?"
Sarah said, smiling, "Sorry for the frosty reception, Amy. Your addition to the team came as a bit of a surprise to some of us. Now that you are here, welcome."
Amy reached out and gave Sarah a hug, and said with a smile, "No worries at all, Sarah. I think I figured that out."
Chuck reached out and took her hand, "Hi, Amy. Welcome aboard."
"Thanks, Chuck. Good to be here. So, first off," she started to giggle a bit, "You guys should know this. This team has the rep, among the rank and file anyway, as way way beyond varsity, totally all-star. Off the charts all-star. The rep that you guys have is crazy good. There isn't an agent working who wouldn't give his or her right arm to join you guys...to be part of this team. I can't tell you how thrilled I am that Graham picked me for this opportunity. This may be the most exciting thing to happen to me since I left training...no offense to the CATS, Sarah."
Chuckling softly, Sarah said, a little embarrassed, "Thanks, Amy, but you'll see we are just normal agents here. Putting on pants one leg at a time..."
"Not Casey," said Chuck with a gesture at his partner. "He just looks at his pants sternly and they climb onto his body in terror."
"Shut up, Moron," growled Casey. Amy looked at Casey and Chuck with a bit of alarm.
Sarah said, "Ignore them. They actually love each other."
Amy said, "Ok. As I understand my place here, you and Carmichael are an item and that makes it awkward if any seduction missions pop up. So, no worries. I have that stuff covered. Otherwise, I'm to take your orders. That about right?"
"Yeah, that's almost right. Thanks. I think you'll find that we aren't too formal when it comes to leaders and orders and things like that. Generally, we tend to talk a lot of stuff out. You'll have an equal voice."
"Great," said Amy with a happy grin. "Barry was kind of bossy." She seemed to bounce a little in place and said, "I'm so excited."
"Have you eaten yet?" asked Chuck.
"Nope. I was waiting for you guys to arrive," said Amy.
"Ok. We haven't either. Let's order room service and I can give the team a download on the target while we eat. I've done the research over the last couple of days," said Chuck.
They ordered quickly. Amy put her bags into the room with two beds, one for her and one for Casey, while Chuck and Sarah put their bags into the room with a single larger bed. While they were waiting for the food Chuck set up the large TV to receive the feed from his computer.
The food arrived and they settled down to eat in front of the screen as Chuck pulled up a picture of Victor Federov.
"Ok, guys, this is Victor Federov, the groom. Congratulations, Mr. Federov. He is also an arms dealer, an ex-member of Russian organized crime, and a successful Russian oligarch. He was born in 1961 in Stalingrad, Russia along the Volga River. Not too long after his birth, the city was re-named Volgograd. He passed through high school there and we don't have anything in the files about those years. He served in the Army in the late 70's early 80's and, so far as we can tell, was unexceptional. The file really starts in the 80's when he's sent to prison for blackmarket activities. He's released just before glasnost and perestroika change the Soviet Union beyond recognition. That brings us to the chaos of the 90's. He seems to have been running a small group of mobsters in Moscow and to have taken advantage of the mayhem of those years to climb the ladder of capitalist success. He had connections with the former Red Army, which was coming apart. He got his hands on military hardware and began to peddle it overseas, particularly in Africa. He quickly developed some excellent connections there and sold what he could. Not to the African governments, though, mostly to rebel groups."
"The rebels, huh? How does he get paid then?" asked Casey.
"Blood diamonds, usually washed through Amsterdam," said Chuck.
"So African customers? Like Volkoff?" asked Sarah.
"Volkoff sells to the governments down there, but otherwise, yeah, like Volkoff. Definitely smaller scale," said Chuck.
"Who's Volkoff?" asked Amy.
"Russian arms dealer. A big one. We learned a little about him on our last mission. Anyway, Volkoff seems to have branched out into production...R&D, that sort of thing. Federov doesn't have the imagination for that. He's still selling old Soviet stuff...high end Soviet stuff, mind you, but the old stuff anyway. As time went on, Federov got into other businesses too. In addition to selling the military hardware, he started to sell trucks. The really rugged kind that can accomplish miracles in horrible terrain. He got an overseas distribution license for the BelAZ, a Belarus made truck company that is still considered the maker of one of the most versatile and useful heavy duty all-terrain trucks. Very successful in Africa, but also Asia. He hasn't slowed down the arms sales, just added this new element."
"Probably to wash the arms money," said Casey.
"Yeah, that's likely," said Chuck. "He's been married once," the picture on the screen changed to that of an attractive brunette woman. "His first wife drowned in a boating accident while they were vacationing on a yacht in the Aegean. No kids." The picture changed to a somewhat blurry shot of a brunette woman with her hair obscuring part of her face. "This is Sunday's bride, Mara Ivanov. No decent pictures of her seem to be available."
"Good luck, Mara," said Amy, who had been listening with intelligent attention, her bubbly-party-girl persona in temporary abeyance.
"Yeah," said Chuck. "Good luck. Now here's the weird thing. I can't find anything in the files about her. Not in the US files anyway. Nothing in the open source stuff like newspapers...at least not until she started to make the papers on his arm. They seem to have been dating for about 18 months. They made the gossip and society columns in Moscow occasionally. She's got a normal social media presence...Facebook.. that kind of thing, dating back a few years. I can't find a ton of stuff about her, though, except that she was...is, I guess...a florist."
The picture on the screen changed to that of a middle aged man, mostly balding. Slender with high cheek bones. "Different story here. This is Feliks Oblonsky. He seems to have grown up with Federov in Volgograd. From the moment Federov got out of prison, Oblonsky has been at his right hand. He's the best man on Sunday. They seem to be inseparable. From what we can tell, Federov doesn't make any decisions without Oblonsky.
"A lot of the information we are seeing comes from what the French shared with us. They seem to be the most interested in Federov. Seems he's been arming rebels in Ivory Coast and pissing off the French."
"Yeah," said Sarah. "They tend to take an interest in their former colonies. They get pretty annoyed when people mess with them."
"So, here's the weird thing about Federov. I don't have a good explanation for it. None of the analysts do. He's throwing this huge wedding here in Switzerland. Invited a whole bunch of people. Whole big thing. Weird thing is...he's broke."
"What?" asked Sarah, surprised.
"Yup. So far as I can tell he's pretty much lost all his money. Over the last year...nine months, maybe he's made a series of business deals all of which have been disasters. One after the other. He invested in three new companies, all of which went out of business. He leveraged his license to sell the BelAZ and lost it to the bank. He had to sell his real estate at rock bottom prices...a penthouse in Moscow, a dacha on the Black Sea, a shopping mall and hotel in Volgograd...all of it. And then he lost those funds in another terrible investment. Whoever has been giving him investment advice should be fired, because this has been a really bad year for the guy."
"Advisers like that don't get fired in the circles that Federov runs in. They get buried," growled Casey.
"Yeah," agreed Sarah.
"I wonder if his friends here for the wedding know that he's on his ass?" asked Amy.
"Or his wife-to-be," added Sarah.
"Don't know," said Chuck.
"How much are we talking about?" asked Casey.
"Tough to answer that, but the CIA analysts were using a number around half a billion," answered Chuck.
"Dollars, Euros, or Rubles?" asked Amy.
"Dollars," said Chuck.
"Real money," said Sarah. "Guy like this, I'll bet he's scheming to make it back. Probably got something big in the works...make the big score. These guys don't just give up and accept mediocrity."
"Well, whatever he has in the works...we aren't the only ones who want to figure it out. Graham told us there are more Western intelligence officers here than wedding guests, so I suppose everyone is keeping an eye on him. See what he tries to pull next," said Casey.
"Makes sense," said Chuck.
"Ok, guys. Anything else, Chuck?" asked Sarah. Chuck shook his head 'no' and began to put away his computer. "Time to go to work. Let's head down to the lobby and see what we can see."
They pushed the room service cart into the hallway and headed to the hotel's elegant lobby. The lobby was white marble and dark wood, with overstuffed armchairs and crystal lighting. There was a raucous crowd in the bar speaking loud Russian.
With a small smile, Amy said quietly, "Batter up." She went directly into the crowd of Russian men, giggling and grinning. Before they knew it, she was downing a shot of vodka.
Chuck spotted something in the small hotel store off to the side and excused himself for a moment, leaving Sarah and Casey alone.
Sarah said, somewhat hesitantly, "Casey, I know I jumped your shit upstairs. I want to apologize. I realize you were just protecting Chuck. I know he was ….unhappy with the Kirk thing and I know you're just making sure that he doesn't have to face that again. So, thank you. I trust you to look out for him. But please don't' tell him that I said so. I don't want him to feel guilty about my not doing those seduction missions anymore."
Casey just grunted as Chuck returned from his errand, tucking something into a pocket of his jacket.
The three of them followed Amy into the bar and found a spot to stand near the Russian patrons. Sarah and Casey were listening to the men and women chat in Russian. Skiing. Drinking. Amy and who might score with her that evening. More skiing. The wedding. Federov. His soon-to-be wife and her beauty. Sarah and which of the men she was with was her man. Some of the women in the group had some catty things to say about Amy. More skiing. Neither Sarah nor Casey let on that they spoke Russian and understood the conversation, but if this crowd was going to start spilling the secrets of the Russian mob they were apparently not going to do it in public.
They'd have to come up with a better plan to scope out this group. Casey had brought a collection of bugs and other eavesdropping equipment from the NSA's Munich office. Tomorrow when the guests were skiing, they would plant them in the rooms, starting with Federov himself.
Chuck found himself getting sleepy. He'd been driving all day. He didn't understand the Russian conversations that they were listening to, so he started to zone out a bit. When he'd finished his drink, he told Casey and Sarah that he was heading up to bed. Sarah said that she'd go with him. Casey agreed to stay to keep an eye on Amy.
After Chuck and Sarah had left, Amy kept flirting with the Russians for another half hour or so, but eventually even she was ready to call it a night as well. A few of the men were disappointed that they wouldn't be taking Amy up to their rooms, but several of the women were just as happy to see her go.
Casey joined her and they crossed the lobby together to the elevators.
They stood waiting in the elevator lobby for the next car to arrive. There was a 'bing' noise and the elevator door opened. Federov and his bride-to-be stepped out. Casey and Mara Ivanov stopped dead in their tracks and stared at each other in shock.
