A/N: When the value of the Warner Brothers Studio in Burbank, California is combined with the ownership of Chuck, it adds up to real money.

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Very short recap. Chuck, Sarah and Barry Longshore are on their way to the extraction point to take Chuck and Sarah to the bunker. Casey and Amy have gotten an address for Lizzie and are heading there to intercept her, hopefully before she's had an opportunity to tell Fulcrum what she's learned.

But...how did we get here? Who sent this Lizzie woman to Team B? How long has she been watching them? What's her mission? And why does she dress like that?

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December 2007

The woman who would later be known as Lizzie stepped into the conference room in the quiet suburban office building to face the scarred man sitting across the conference room table. He scared her. She was very experienced and skilled at inflicting violence and death. She had killed many more people than she could either count or remember. Men. Women. Families. Targets. By-standers. In her line of work, the names, faces and circumstances had become meaningless to her. None of it bothered her in the slightest...well, except when her victims would plead pathetically for their lives. She had nothing but contempt for such weakness. As a contract killer, she was justly feared by those few who knew her reputation. But, nevertheless, this man scared her.

Tommy Delgado was known as a brutal, brutal man. He wouldn't simply kill people, he would butcher them. Although he was skilled with any number of weapons, his favorite was the knife. The truly scary part was his temper. He was quiet and soft-spoken, measured, restrained...until he wasn't. Then he would lose his temper and the knife would come out. She had never seen him do it, but she had once come upon the results soon afterwards. It had looked like the body of the dead man had been savaged by a wild animal. When she inquired as to what the dead man had done to merit such a gruesome death, she was told, simply, that the man had disappointed Delgado.

At the same time, she very much wanted to have the job he was offering. She had heard of Fulcrum for more than a year and knew that they had power, money and the backing of important people. She couldn't care less about whatever stupid political positions they were selling. It had nothing to do with her. What they did offer was regular lucrative employment. For a woman with her skillset, that was rare and to be treasured if found. Repeat business for a contract killer was uncommon, but high-paying steady employment was almost unheard of. She wanted the job. So, as terrifying as Delgado was, it was worth dealing with him.

Delgado neither rose from his seat nor offered to shake her hand. At his gesture, she sat down opposite him.

"Good morning," he said, his voice a deep growl.

"Good morning," she responded.

"You come highly recommended," he said, speaking quietly.

"I'm happy to hear it. It's taken me many years to establish a reputation," she said.

"Are you available for a job?" he asked. Apparently, he wasn't big on pleasantries and got right down to business.

"I am," she said. "Who is the target?"

"It's not a simple hit. Actually, it's more of an intelligence matter."

"Alright," she said.

Delgado slid three photographs across the table to her. A tough looking guy. A goofy looking nerdy guy. And a beautiful blonde woman. "This is an American intelligence team operating out of Los Angeles. We'll give you a packet with what information we have on each of them. Around Thanksgiving the woman was visited by one of our men here in Fulcrum." He slid another photo across. A dark-haired man with Hollywood good looks. "We want to make sure that our man didn't tell her anything that could come back to us. That could help the Intelligence Community in their efforts to stop us."

Tapping the picture of the handsome man with a polished fingernail, she said, "Alright. I gather that you either can't merely ask your man or that you don't trust him to give you an honest answer."

"I don't trust anyone. It's not personal. He says he didn't. He says he was trying to recruit her to our cause, but, of course, I need to verify that."

"Of course. That's only prudent. I can get there and listen to whatever she says...whatever she says with her team. What am I listening for, though?" she asked.

Delgado spent the next twenty minutes telling her about the Intersect, its importance to Fulcrum, and their efforts to acquire it. He explained that Larkin had downloaded the initial version into himself and it seemed to be a bust. He told her with pride that Larkin had blown up the government's version, leaving him as the only one and the government back at square one. As the government was continuing to perfect it, he explained Fulcrum's continued efforts to both acquire or develop one of their own, while, at the same time, to sabotage the one being developed by Washington.

When he finished, she sat and thought for a few moments. "Your man must be very important to you. Being the only one with the Intersect, even if it isn't working as well as they had hoped. It's no wonder you need to verify his trustworthiness. Can I expect that you want to keep this assignment confidential even within your organization?"

"Exactly. I'd prefer my colleagues not share my suspicions of Larkin if those suspicions are groundless," said Delgado. "If he's loyal to us, he will still be very useful."

"That's fine. If I need additional information or something followed up on, for example, do I call you directly then?"

"Yes, here is a number to reach me," he said, sliding a card to her.

She nodded. "We have to discuss my fee, of course," she said.

"Of course." They did so amicably for a few minutes and quickly came to an arrangement acceptable to both of them.

"Very well," she said. "Here is a number for a Cayman's account. Please deposit one third of my fee there, together with $50,000 for expenses. The balance will be payable when the job is concluded."

"Fine, you will have the money by the end of the day," he said.

They rose and shook hands.

She was quite pleased with the assignment. Listen in on some spies for a few weeks or months, find out what Larkin told them about Fulcrum and/or the Intersect, if anything, and be done with it. She would enter their social circle to gain access, plant some bugs, and see what she could find out. Maybe she'd seduce the older guy. He looked like he might be useful in bed. No reason not to get maximum enjoyment out of the job, after all.

On the plane west, she read the files contained in the USB drive she'd been given. First up was Larkin, the pretty boy. Recruited into the CIA from Stanford. Athlete. Languages. A number of successful missions over the years. Seemed to be a good spy. Partnered with Walker at the end, until recruited to Fulcrum. Unlike most Fulcrum agents, who remained in place and worked for Fulcrum from their existing intelligence jobs, Larkin for some reason was pulled out and worked for Fulcrum full time. Notes on the Intersect mission and the poor results of its operation. The more she understood about Larkin, the better she would be able to tell if something the team was discussing was pertinent.

She went to the next one. John Casey. NSA. Straight up military type. A major, so not a bonehead. She read his missions. An old school killer. Ok. Have to be careful of this one.

Charles "Chuck" Bartowski, going by Carmichael, was a bit of an oddball. Seems to be the team's tech guy cum analyst. Overlapped with Larkin at Stanford. Weird. Wonder if they knew each other? Kicked out early. Bummer for you, Chuck. Nerdy. Cover job at the Buy More and lives with his sister. She flipped back to Casey. They live next door to each other. Ok, keeping the team together. This one was a loser with a capital "L." Just looking at him it was obvious. The happy, open expression. Real life would wipe that out soon enough. How the hell did he get into this line of work, anyway? Probably pee in his pants at the first sign of danger. She mentally dismissed him as a threat.

Finally, she opened the file on the woman, Sarah Walker. She stopped for a minute on the picture. Blonde, blue eyes, beautiful in that clean all-American, girl next door way. She found that she hated Sarah Walker immediately. This was exactly the kind of person that the world handed things to. Where a charmed life and all its rewards are God's little added cherry on the sundae of good looks. Making her way through the file her animosity grew with every entry. Harvard. Fucking Harvard. And graduated with honors no less. Fuck you, Sarah Walker. No doubt a stick up your ass the size of a redwood. Thinking she's so much better than everyone else. But the part that truly startled her was the recitation of missions. This was the Ice Queen. Holy shit, the goddamm Ice Queen. She re-read the file from the beginning. She was still not impressed. The so-called Ice Queen didn't have as many kills as she did. Sure, some of hers were pretty technically impressive, one expert to another, but in sheer quantity, she had the Ice Queen beat. This was going to be fun. Listen in on the Ice Queen. There wouldn't be any question who was the better operator when this was over. And it wouldn't be the fabled Sarah Walker. 'I'll bet that's not even her real hair color,' she thought.

She spent the first ten days in Los Angeles on set up. Cars. Safe houses. Weapons. ID. Disguises. Surveillance equipment. All the basic logistical things that would have been taken care of for her if she wasn't working as an independent contractor.

When she decided she was ready, she took a room at Walker's residence hotel, being very careful not to be seen by Walker or either of the others until she was ready to make her move. They were top notch professional spies and would have excellent situational awareness. She was very careful to stay at long distance from them. It would be too easy for them to recognize her from two different locations and add that coincidence up to an alarm. That's when the whole operation started to go pear shaped.

Walker and her team left LA on a mission. She called Delgado for instructions. Should she follow them? No, she was told, too much chance of them spotting her if she tried to follow them around on missions. Ok, she stayed put in LA. When she saw the news about the downfall of billionaire-assclown Lon Kirk by a Federal team in Vegas, she knew what their mission had been.

She was primed for them to get back. She'd come up with a plausible scenario to run into Walker in the hotel and make friends with the woman. Of course, as it turned out shortly after they got back from Vegas Walker packed up her shit and moved out of the hotel. Fuck. What goddamm sucky luck. The bitch.

And, what's more, Walker moved into an apartment near her teammate Casey. The whole team in one location. But the part that surprised her the most was that she took an apartment with the nerdy tech guy, Bartowski. What the hell was that about? Giving the nerd added motivation to be on the team by bedding him regularly? Walker was behaving very oddly for a supposed professional.

She went to the manager at Echo Park to get an apartment in the same complex, but there weren't any available. She considered killing someone to create a vacancy, but on balance decided it would draw too much attention. And, anyway, it would be months before an estate would clean out an apartment, so the timing wouldn't work.

Her next course of action would be to bug the team's apartments. She wore the uniform of a parcel delivery service employee with her cap pulled down and entered the courtyard. She was very careful and had developed a sixth sense for surveillance. They were very well hidden, but when she knew what to look for she could spot them. Hidden cameras and recording gear. The courtyard was thoroughly covered. No doubt the doors and windows would be alarmed as well. Ok, so a black bag job to get to the team's apartments was out. She'd have to be invited inside. That would take time to arrange, but ok.

She checked out of the hotel and took an apartment across the street from the team's cover jobs. It was on a slight hill about a mile away from the mall where they worked during the day, but the apartment's living room window had a perfect view of both the Wienerlicious and the front entrance to the Buy More. As she studied the view with binoculars she realized that with a good enough telescope (if the light was right) she'd be able to see inside the hot dog store and watch Walker during the day.

She bought a telescope and set it up in a hide site inside her living room. The hide was built out of black curtains and enclosed the telescope and a chair, almost a small room-within-a-room. Anyone looking in her window would just see black. She'd be hidden behind the curtains and invisible to the outside world. She kept a sniper rifle there as well, in case she had to take out Walker or any other member of the team she was watching. This job was becoming frustrating. She'd been in Burbank for almost a month and had yet to accomplish anything important or useful.

Soon after the New Year, Walker and her team left town again. That was a perfect time drop bugs into the stores where they worked without being seen by the team. She went into the Wienerlicious and ordered a corn dog and a drink. Sitting at the table with her food, she took a small bug out of her pocket and switched it on, prepared to install it inside one of the napkin dispensers. The moment it was activated the computer on the counter gave a tone. The bespectacled man behind the counter looked at it curiously. There was a message flashing. He began to push some buttons, but it was clear he didn't know what he was doing. She turned the bug off. The message on the computer stopped flashing. The man shrugged and turned away. She turned the bug on again and the same thing repeated itself. Shit, shit, shit. There was an alarm set up to detect transmitters. Who even invented that shit? Godammit.

From the Wienerlicious she crossed to the Buy More. Pretending to shop near the Nerd Herd desk where Bartowski worked she turned on the bug. Tone and flashing message on the computer. Same as the hot dog place. Shit. Whatever alarm that had been installed in the Wienerlicious had also been installed in the Buy More. She randomly tried different locations throughout the store and the result was the same. Frustrated, she returned to her apartment to consider alternatives.

No wireless devices would work. She sat staring out the window at the stores. Whatever genius had created that alarm had blocked any of the bugs she had acquired for use on this job. She would be reduced to sitting and listening to them talk and taking fucking notes like a fucking stenographer, she supposed. Take notes. Take notes. There was a note taking app on her phone. She could speak into it and record what she wanted to say. Record. That was the answer. A tape recorder.

Ok. A tape recorder. But she'd have to change out the batteries and tapes with some regularity, so she needed consistent access. Ok. Easy enough. She could do this.

She showed up the next morning and charmed her way into a job at Scooter's hot dog store. She set up the recording device, tested it and waited.

Walker and her team arrived back in LA with an addition to the team, some blonde bimbo who got a job with Casey at the Buy More. What was with these blondes anyway? Did the CIA have a warehouse full of them, just waiting to be trotted out? Delgado sent her the file on Agent Turner. Boring.

She was glad she was making a lot of money for this assignment, because she detested her time in the Wienerlicious. The outfit was stupid, even if she was able to spice it up a little to be a bit more flattering. A little shorter to show off her legs. A little tighter to show off her curves. An open button. Much better than the family-friendly original. The customers were idiot schoolboys. The worst part was that she came back to the apartment every night smelling of grease. But she got the recorder working and could listen to the conversations, although after the fact.

She tried recorders at the Buy More, but that didn't work. The store was too big and busy. Whatever snippets of conversation she'd managed to pick up had been meaningless. Even the one centered at the Nerd Herd desk where Bartowski spent a great deal of time didn't produce anything useful. She shouldn't be surprised, as it was too public for spy conversations. Of course, she did listen to two idiots at the store talking about "the new hottie dog girl" and detailing exactly what they wanted to do with her given half a chance. The description was both imaginative and quite explicit. She made a mental note to come back to Burbank after this job was over and kill them both.

She established a routine. She would sit with coffee while watching Walker at her hot dog job through the telescope. The part she loved the most was watching Walker re-stack the cups in the morning, scowling and cursing to herself. She would literally laugh out loud as that ritual was enacted. At the same time, she would listen to the tape from the prior day's conversation at double speed, only slowing it down when she heard Walker's voice saying something interesting or when she was talking to a member of her team.

Her team. As ridiculous as it might seem, she concluded that Walker was in love with Bartowski. Really in love with the loser. She watched them together through the glass and saw the look on her face after she had kissed him goodbye when he was heading back to the Buy More. She watched Walker's expression and mannerisms and, the next day, heard the Ice Queen humming to herself when she thought she was alone. Ice Queen. What total bullshit. This stupid lovesick cow was worse than a silly schoolgirl. Whatever steel the woman had once had, if any, was gone...melted to marshmallow. Just another typical example of the rep exceeding the reality. Likely, she was one of those public relations geniuses who could spin events to their credit whenever a mission ended. Probably taking credit for someone else's kills. 'Ice Queen my ass,' she thought. She knew she was so much tougher than the so-called Ice Queen.

All the while, she was working on getting close to the woman socially. Have a drink after work, that sort of thing. But the woman was an unfriendly bitch. Although Walker was very hard to warm up to, she kept trying. It was her job. Finally, after weeks, something cracked and Walker agreed. They would be meeting that evening. A necessary first step to making friends with her. Once that was done and she had access to the apartment she could install bugs there too. Unless, of course, that fucking alarm thing was set up at her home as well.

On the tape she was listening to, Walker said, "Well, you guys don't look too happy." Lizzie slowed the tape to normal speed and kept watching Walker through the eyepiece of the telescope. This was the conversation they had had yesterday when Casey and Bartowski came to the Wienerlicious in the middle of the day.

"Heard from Operation Thirty. The dead guy from Venice was Fulcrum," said Bartowski on the tape. Lizzie hit pause and replayed it. This was the first mention she'd had about Fulcrum. Operation Thirty? She made a note on a pad she kept next to her.

"So that makes two," said Walker on the tape. Two what? She didn't know.

"But there's more. He included this picture with the warning 'beware,'" said Bartowski on the tape.

"Oh, shit. Guys, that's Lizzie, the new woman here. The one trying to be friends with me. She must be Fulcrum," said Walker on the tape. FUCK. She stopped the tape. FUCK. She was blown. Someone in Fulcrum blew her cover. So much for Delgado's assurance that he was keeping her involvement to himself. FUCK. No wonder Walker agreed to have a drink with her tonight.

"Oh, crap. What do we do?" said Bartowski on the tape.

"We report in. Beckman and Graham may want to pick her up and sweat her. See what she knows," said Casey on the tape. Fuck you, jarhead. Good luck taking me.

"Yeah, Casey. That's right," said Sarah on the tape.

"What is it team?" asked Beckman on the tape a little while later. Apparently, they had initiated a call of some kind with their bosses. She knew that Beckman was head of the NSA and Graham head of the CIA. As Beckman was a woman, it was easy to tell them apart from their voices.

"We've had a message from Operation Thirty. It was two part. First, he confirmed that the man killed in Venice was Fulcrum," said Bartowski on the tape.

"Ok. That makes two Fulcrum operatives taken and tortured to death. Coincidence that both men were Fulcrum or is that the reason they were taken?" said Graham on the tape. Tortured to death? What the fuck? There were Fulcrum guys being tortured to death? And who the hell was Operation Thirty giving confirmation to Walker's team that they were Fulcrum people?

"Don't know, Sir. That's the million dollar question, I guess, but there's more. We were also given a picture of a woman with the word 'beware'. I recognized the woman. She recently started work here at my cover job. She's been trying to make friends with me since I arrived back from Switzerland," said Walker on the tape. 'Not anymore, you bitch,' she thought.

"So, Fulcrum has taken an interest in your team it seems. I suppose that's not too surprising. After all, you interfered with them with Zarnow and again with Mead. Larkin too, I guess. Any indication that they know that Chuck is the Intersect?" said Beckman on the tape. WHAT? She stopped the tape and replayed it. Then again and again. She must have listened to it a half dozen times before she could convince herself that she heard it correctly. She wrote 'Bartowski Intersect?' on her pad.

Bartowski is the Intersect. And so is Larkin? Beckman had said "the" not "an", singular not plural, so maybe Bartowski's the only one? Maybe he's the only one that works? Did Larkin not blow up the Intersect when he stole it? What the fuck was going on?

She continued listening. "No, Ma'am. The message was only the warning. Nothing further," said Bartowski on the tape.

"Perhaps they want to recruit you? To recruit your team?" asked Beckman on the tape.

"Possible, but I think it more likely that they want to know if Larkin told you anything when he came here at Thanksgiving. He would have told them that he tried to recruit you and failed. They probably want to know if you got anything more from him. And I'd be surprised if they know you have the Intersect, Chuck. If they did, their first order of business would be to grab you," said Graham on the tape. Grab him? Sure as shit Fulcrum is going to grab him. Delgado will flip when he gets this information. Shit, talk about the motherlode of secrets. Oh, my God. I'm going to be a freaking hero to Fulcrum.

"Yeah, Director. That makes the most sense," said Casey on the tape.

"So, what do you want us to do with her, Sir? Do you want us to bring her in for questioning?" asked Walker on the tape. Fuck you, Walker. Like to see you try.

"Eventually. But for now, we are suitably warned. If she's trying to make friends, let her. Get closer to her. See where that leads us. But, for God's sake, be careful. If the warning was to beware, heed it," said Graham on the tape.

"Yes, Sir," said Walker on the tape

"Sir, Ma'am, one more thing. Agent Turner is on the team now, but, so far as we know not yet cleared for Fulcrum, Operation Thirty, or the Intersect. May we read her in?" asked Bartowski on the tape. Yes, she thought. Read her in. Tell her. Bring her in right now and tell her everything.

"Fulcrum, yes. Operation Thirty, just tell her we have an asset inside, don't name him. As to the Intersect, I leave that up to you. When you think the time is right, you have authorization to tell her. Might be difficult to operate as a team without her having that information. But it is need to know only. When you judge she needs to know, you tell her," said Graham on the tape. Ok, so the inside person is a man. Turner doesn't know about the Intersect, about Bartowski being the Intersect.

"Understood, Sir. Thank you," said Bartowski on the tape.

What followed was meaningless pleasantries as Casey and Bartowski went back to the Buy More. She replayed the tape over from the beginning. Then she picked up her phone and pulled up Delgado's number. She was about to hit send when she stuck her eye to the telescope to find Walker. The blonde woman wasn't in the store. Where did she go? After a few moments she saw Walker stand up from behind the counter looking upset. She said something and ran from the store, only pausing long enough to put up the closed sign and lock the door behind her.

She watched as Walker ran through the parking lot to meet the rest of her team. What the hell was going on? She shifted the telescope to look at the four of them. Walker handed Bartowski something...FUCK. It was her tape recorder. Well, who cares? She was blown anyway. Walker's team talked in the parking lot for a few moments and then ran into the Buy More. So, they knew they had been bugged even with that fancy alarm they had set up. So what? I'm smarter than all of you Harvard/Stanford types after all, huh, assholes?

She glanced down at her phone and was about to lower her thumb to put the call in to Delgado, but something stopped her. Think, think, she told herself. Why don't you want to call Delgado? So, you're blown, so what? Whoever the mole was had blown you yesterday. No. It's not the fact that she was blown...it was … this tape. They knew she was listening to this tape...to that conversation. They knew that Fulcrum now knew that Bartowski was the Intersect. His status wasn't secret from Fulcrum anymore. He was a target. Graham said so himself. What do you do when one of your guys is a target? You hide him, of course. That's why she had stopped herself from pushing the button and contacting Delgado.

She's blown. Not her fault, but blown anyway. As a result, the Intersect will be moved to some secure location where Fulcrum might have difficulty finding or accessing him ever again. Delgado would blame her. Unfairly, but he would. He'd kill her for that. A bad outcome if ever there was one. On the other hand, if she could bring Bartowski alive to Delgado she could write her own ticket with Fulcrum. That was the prize. A living breathing Intersect to present to Delgado. She could avoid the blame for him being hidden away by taking him to Fulcrum herself. Now that would work nicely.

She watched Walker and Bartowski cross the parking lot back to the Wienerlicious. Walker kept the closed sign up as she relocked the door. It looked like they were settling down to wait for something or someone. They were going to move him to a safe location immediately. Her clock was ticking.

Ok. That had become the mission. Grab Bartowski before they can move him to hidden safety. How to get Bartowski? She was operating solo, so she would be outgunned. She could take Walker out with the sniper rifle at her knee, but then what? Bartowski would flee by the time she could get there and she might not find him, so that was a bad idea. Frontal assault on the store would be suicide or might end up with a dead Intersect (which Delgado would reward by killing her). She needed surprise and an ambush. How to set an ambush? Get ahead of them, of course. How to do that? Find out where the pick-up was going to be to take Bartowski to safety. Fulcrum is inside the IC. Maybe Delgado can make some calls and get her the information on the extraction, without knowing who the person to be extracted was? She didn't have to tell him why she needed the information, just that it might be important. If it worked out, she could tell him later. Can't hurt to ask him, she thought as she pressed the send button on her phone.

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A/N2: I can't be the only one who was wondering why Lizzie didn't tell Fulcrum right away about Chuck being the Intersect. Or how she showed up on the roof at the time of the extraction. If you agree, leave a note in the box below. Or even if you don't agree. Come back next Saturday to see what happens on the roof.