A/N: I know someone else owns Chuck, but, as the expression goes, hope springs eternal. Personally, I'm hoping the Chuck FF community could do some sort of cooperative ownership. That might be cool.
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It hadn't been in the papers they bought in the airport in Vienna. The news was still too recent. It was on the news channels on TV as they waited for the flight to London, though, but with incomplete information. By the time they were waiting to change planes at Heathrow though, all the papers were running front page stories and the all-news cable TV stations were breathless in their wall-to-wall coverage. Passengers in the terminal stood around in knots staring at the screens and listening for the latest developments. After all, it wasn't every day that one of the richest men in Europe was arrested for a massacre. And, of course, there was the extraordinary way his incriminating conversation had been shared.
It was reported that at least seven, maybe more, major European police departments and prosecutorial agencies had been provided a live feed of the discussion between Szell and his hired killer Fodor. It had just shown up on computers in their offices, surprising everyone. At least ten of the most widely read newspapers on the continent, and a few in the United States, had gotten the same live feed on their computers, some with simultaneous translations from Hungarian to their native language, if necessary. But it was the TV release that was the most extraordinary. The most watched TV station in Hungary had had its content hijacked and the conversation broadcast to the entire nation livestream, in place of the soap opera which would have aired in its place.
Despite the total absence of evidence, the pundits were surmising that it was an intelligence operation. Both the Russian SVB and the American CIA had been loudly touted as potential actors, but the more soft-spoken, gray haired wise men had opined that it must have been the work of the Israeli Mossad. "Only the Mossad can pull off a complex and technically sophisticated operation this flawlessly," one had said. Sarah chuckled to herself. 'They don't know my Chuck,' she thought.
She tucked the newspapers into the seat back at her knee, turned off the overhead light, and looked out of the window at the moonlit clouds beneath her, over the Atlantic between London and Atlanta. 'Well,' she thought, 'Buckle up, guys. We're just getting started. That was merely our first strike. There's a lot more to come, you evil pricks.' She smiled grimly at the night sky.
Casey had stayed behind in Hungary to dispose of any evidence that they had been there and erase their trail. With a small smile, she remembered his deep voice saying, "Get out of here. Get the first flight out and go see your mom, Sarah. I got this shit. You two go."
Chuck, sleeping in the seat next to her, shifted uncomfortably. They were flying first class, a concession to the length of her fiancé's legs, but even so, he couldn't really stretch out. They were taking advantage of the income they were making with Carmichael Industries and splurging on the upgraded seats. As this wasn't a government operation, it was all their own money. The whole operation had been self-financed. If not for the vast amounts of money being made by Carmichael Industries, they would never have been able to afford it. And she didn't regret a penny of that money spent.
She lowered her seat back to put her closer to the man she loved as he slept facing her. She reached out and held his hand, closing her eyes. She wished she could snuggle into his side, but the airplane seats precluded that comfort.
She wasn't really sure how much time passed. She didn't think she'd actually fallen asleep, but she guessed that she might have. Mostly she just lazed in that twilight area between sleep and wakefulness, thinking about her mom.
Chuck's hand twitched in hers. It gripped her hand hard and she heard a noise from deep in his chest. Her eyes snapped open and she was instantly awake. She knew what was coming.
"Chuck." She shook his hand. "Chuck, wake up. Wake up."
He was shaking his head, his sleeping face scrunched in pain and fear. He began to mumble, "No, no, no."
Sarah shook him hard and spoke more loudly, "Chuck. Wake up. You're having a dream. Wake up."
His eyes opened and he looked at her. It took him a few moments to realize where he was and who he was with. When he did, he shook himself a bit.
"Oh, sorry, Sweetie. Sorry. Was I noisy?" he twisted to look around the first-class cabin.
"No, you weren't. I was the only one who noticed."
He looked relieved and moved his seat more upright and turned on his overhead light. "Sorry if I woke you."
"You didn't. I wasn't really sleeping." She paused for a few seconds as she was raising her own seat and said, "Want to tell me?"
Chuck ran a somewhat shaky hand through his curls and said, his voice quiet, "Back in the ravine, looking for Amy...for her body. The bodies of Gaez and his men were … were moving...were reaching for me." He looked sour and shook his head again. "Like a bad zombie movie. But it was more than that...they were pissed off...blaming me."
With the illumination of the overhead light, the flight attendant came up to them with an offer of service. Chuck ordered a vodka on the rocks, a double.
"You're not going to try to go back to sleep?" she asked.
"No. It'll just happen again. But don't let me stop you. You go ahead and sleep."
"Naw," she said. "I'll keep you company."
"I was just going to work on CI stuff."
"Ok. I can do that too. God knows I have enough to do."
"What was in the papers?" he asked her.
She dropped her voice to almost a whisper. "Nothing we don't know. They seem to be stumped how all the computer stuff was done," she said. "The smart money is on the Israelis."
He shrugged modestly and said, "Well, mazel tov, then. But I'd be shocked if anyone can figure that out. And, even if they did, all the trails would just lead back to internal computer stations anyway. I had the editor's computer send the feed to his or her newsroom, for example. Stuff like that."
Sarah chuckled, "Hah. Yeah, that will throw them off. I have a smart fiancée."
"And I have a fiancé who can make a drone zip around like a dragon fly," he said, giving her a kiss on the tip of her nose.
She blew out a breath and said, "Not easy. That took tons of practice. And watching all those YouTube videos of insects flitting around."
"Worth it, though."
"So worth it," she said.
They held hands in silence for a while until Chuck said, "I've been thinking, Sweetie. I think we should offer to take Molly from your mom."
"Yeah. I think that's probably the best idea," said Sarah, nodding. "She might be upset when it comes time to turn her over. We can drive up ourselves. I figure the Embassy in DC would be the best..."
"Wait...what?" he asked, surprised.
"To turn her over to the Hungarians. We could take her to the Embassy. Let them get her back to Hungary."
"Turn her over? What do you mean 'turn her over'? We can't turn her over. She's got no family left. I meant should we take her and raise her ourselves. Take the burden off your mom."
If they weren't whispering and trying to have a private conversation in the airplane cabin, Sarah might have raised her voice, "Raise her ourselves? Keep her? Keep the baby? We can't keep the baby."
"Why not? You took her already..."
"Yeah, to protect her from assassins. There's a hell of a lot of difference between hiding a child for her own safety and just...just...keeping her. You can't go around keeping children you find. There are laws and things about that. We're not Ma and Pa Kent. Chuck, we're the good guys. Right? The good guys. It's the bad guys who kidnap kids. Not us. We can't do it. I know you are arguing for it out of a feeling of love for the little girl you haven't even met. A feeling of compassion and responsibility and all good and admirable things. But it's still the wrong decision for any number of reasons."
"Sarah," he was frustrated that she didn't understand. "The child IS our responsibility. She's got no one else. We know that. We looked into it. You don't want her in the Hungarian foster care system."
"Why not? She's Hungarian," said Sarah.
"Not anymore. By now, she's American."
"That's not how this works, Chuck," said Sarah with exasperation. "She's still Hungarian. She's living with forged documents. My mom could be arrested for kidnapping at any time. That reward for her return is still out there like a sword of Damocles. Forgetting the illegality, this isn't a long-term solution. To keep her safe when people are trying to kill her, yes. For the rest of her life? Not so much."
"I the hate the idea of letting her be dropped into a bureaucracy. At least we can show her some love here. I know what I'm talking about. Ellie and I went to some pretty extraordinary lengths to avoid the California foster care system when my parents abandoned us. We'd have done anything to stay out of it," he said. "We've got to keep Molly out of the Hungarian system just as much. Maybe more, since she's younger. I used to get nightmares that those people would find us. It was horrible stress and I was just a kid. The whole thing is just a disaster."
"Chuck, I understand. I mean, at least I think I do. But you had each other..."
"And she has us," he said.
"But she doesn't. Not really. You haven't even met her and you want to take her and raise her," said Sarah.
"I'm sure I'll love her," he said.
"I'm sure you will too. You are an incredibly loving person, but even so, we can't keep the baby," said Sarah.
"Stop calling her the baby. She has a name. It's Molly," said Chuck. He was getting a little angry.
"No, it's Bora. And do you really want to have a baby now? Cause I don't," said Sarah.
"You don't want children?" said Chuck, definitely angry now.
"That's not what I said," she responded.
"Really, cause that's what I heard," he told her.
"No. I said I don't want a baby now. NOW. I want children. I want your children. I'm just not ready for that yet. That's all," she said.
"Why not?" he asked. "I'd be perfectly happy for you to get pregnant on the honeymoon."
That actually stopped her in her tracks for a few moments. Why didn't she want kids yet? She thought about it a few seconds before responding. "Chuck, I love you. I love you more than I ever thought I could love another person. And that...that love is less than a year old. And it's been the most wonderful almost year of my life. I'm happier than I've ever been. And it's all because of you. The life we are leading is spectacular. I'm selfish. That's why I don't want to have a baby yet. I want you...this life...as it is, to last a little while longer before we change it irrevocably."
"Sarah, we can die at any moment. We both know that. Don't you want to … I don't know...get this accomplished?"
'Ah,' she thought, with sudden understanding. 'It's Amy. That's why he's on this now. It's Amy's death that's rocked him. He's still a bit off balance from what happened in Brazil.'
Sarah reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. "It's not something on a checklist for us, Sweetie. It's a huge life altering thing. But you know, why don't we just put this aside and sleep on it for a while? We'll both think about it, okay? I'm sure we'll love Bora..."
"Molly," he said.
"Molly. I'm sure we'll love her to pieces. Let's not fight, ok?"
Chuck was clearly still angry, but said, "Ok."
After looking at him for a while, Sarah said, "Hey, was this our first fight?"
He looked at her for a few moments, the love in his eyes conflicted with the anger he still felt, and said, "Yeah. I guess so. Do you still love me?"
"Always and forever. Do you still love me?" she asked.
"There's nothing in the world that could make me not love you," he said, leaning forward to give her a little kiss.
He drank his vodka in one long gulp and put his laptop on the tray table. With a little side glance at her he said, "Even when you're wrong." He smirked as she shoulder bumped him.
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It was a long layover in Atlanta. Sarah went to one of the shops open at that early hour and bought a stuffed animal for Molly.
The news stations at the airport had non-stop coverage of the Szell arrest in Hungary. Politicians were stepping forward to defend him...mostly along the lines of giving him the benefit of the doubt until his day in court. Some prominent lawyers were speaking up on the difficulty with the evidence. Although it was before dawn in Atlanta, it was about 11AM in Budapest. Szell and Fodor had been arrested the prior afternoon and were due in court later that morning.
Chuck and Sarah looked at each other and nodded in agreement. Chuck took out his phone and pressed a button. In the same police stations and newsrooms throughout the world that had received the live stream of the Szell/Fodor conversation, a large anonymous email was received. The message contained files lifted from Szell's computer system containing evidence of the government officials and politicians, both in Hungary and elsewhere, on his payroll. There were a handful whose cooperation Szell had ensured with blackmail rather than bribes. Those fell into two categories – men and women who had been blackmailed for committing serious crimes and men and women who had been blackmailed for embarrassing personal misbehavior, such as an extramarital affair. All evidence against the former was included in the files sent to the police and the press. All evidence against the latter had been destroyed by Chuck. Although he couldn't be sure there weren't hard copies of the files somewhere, he himself would neither expose nor exploit them.
At the same time, he sent an email, anonymously of course, to the Hungarian Prosecutor General (the top prosecutor in the Hungarian government) containing a password to access Szell's computers. Chuck had locked those computers yesterday while they were listening to Szell gloat over the impending murder of a small child. From that point forward, no one could get into those files to erase evidence, but the prosecutors would be able to get in the moment they were authorized to do so by the courts.
So far, everything had been proceeding exactly as they had planned.
Except for one unexpected thing. The computer voice Chuck had sent to Szell's phone had taunted him with "Bora lives." Social media was blowing up with support for the little girl. #BORALIVES was everywhere. Tens of thousands of people had held a candlelit vigil for her overnight in Népliget, the largest park in Budapest, chanting "Bora Lives." By dawn the crowd had moved to the Buda Central District Court, where Szell and Fodor were being held awaiting the preliminary hearings. Chanting. Holding signs with the slogan or pictures of the baby that had been publicly shared by the authorities in the search for her. The crowd was peaceful, but as the sun rose and the day progressed it grew and grew. Some of the television reporters from the street outside estimated that there were more than 70,000 people in the streets surrounding the courthouse. There were broadcast interviews with tearful people, hoping for the baby's safety and expressing the wish that Szell and Fodor should burn in hell.
Chuck pulled up a Hungarian TV news station on his computer and Sarah translated for him. With extraordinary last second drama, the prosecutors made an emergency application, literally running to and up the steps of the courthouse, to the managing administrative justice to have Szell's case moved to a different justice than the one previously selected. Whatever their arguments in court were, the switch was made instantly. Chuck and Sarah smiled at each other knowingly. Once in front of the new justice, the prosecutors asked for, and received, a remand to jail without bail for either man. The court agreed that they were flight risks.
Chuck and Sarah had to put away the computer and board the plane to Southwest Florida International Airport.
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Settling themselves into their first-class seats, Sarah took Chuck's hand and sighed. Chuck noticed that she was upset about something.
"What's the matter, Sweetie?" he asked her. "I thought you'd be happy. I hope it's not our fight before."
"No, no. I should be happy. I know," she said, sounding anything but happy. "I should be, right? I mean, I haven't seen my mom in twenty years. I dropped off the baby with her...I was gone in less than a half an hour that time...in twenty years only a half hour."
They had called Emma from Vienna to tell her that they were on their way, but the call had lasted only a few minutes.
"I should be happy. But...what I did...I left her. I left her alone. I feel so guilty." Sarah started to cry quietly. "At first, when I was little, I was stupid. But the majority of my time away from her was just cowardice. Afraid to face the consequences of my actions. And the longer I avoided those consequences, the worse they became and the more scared I got. And on and on...an accelerating cycle of guilt and fear...and all the time, she was alone."
Chuck put his arm around her and hugged her to him. "I know, Sweetie. I know. But now's the time. She won't be alone anymore. In a few hours we'll be with her."
Crying hard now, Sarah said, "But, Chuck, what if she wants to be alone? What if she's mad at me and wants me to go away? What if she rejects me like I rejected her? I'm so scared."
Holding her clutched to his chest, he kissed the top of her head and said, "I don't know, Sweetie. I don't know. If that happens we'll face it together. But I do know this. If I could see my mom one more time...give her a hug...even if she didn't want it...I would do it. I would try to give her that hug. It's my mom...and it's your mom. Even if it doesn't work out the way you hope, you have to try. And I'll be right there with you. Right there."
"I love you," she said through her tears.
"I love you too," he said.
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Vernon "Bill" Williamson, a husky African American man of 60 years old, was waiting at the airport with Baxter Burns for the early morning flight from Atlanta to disgorge its human cargo. Williamson was an ex-Philadelphia cop who had moved to Florida after his thirty years on the force to retire in the sun. It hadn't worked out as he'd expected. He'd taken a couple of executive protection jobs and then found the work coming regularly. He'd hired a bunch of ex-cops and found himself an accidental businessman. Williamson Executive Protection was booming. Burns, next to him in the airport, was one of his more recent hires.
They were waiting for the couple from Carmichael Industries, which was almost certainly the biggest client his company had ever had. In the last six weeks, he'd billed them hundreds of thousands of dollars and been paid promptly and without fuss. Eight men at a time, fully armed, 24/7 coverage in three shifts a day for six weeks straight.
The job was made a little easier in that it was static. The woman and the baby they were protecting were settled into a mansion on Sanibel Island abutting the warm waters of the Gulf. The two servants that came with the house, a married couple who took care of the place and the cooking for everyone, had been extensively vetted by his men and were clean as a whistle. So, the only thing they would worry about was a visitor from outside the grounds. And there were very useful standard protocols to deal with those.
But now the job was over. Carmichael himself had called and told him that he could pull his men from the Island when Carmichael and Walker arrived in the morning on the flight from Atlanta. Williamson had volunteered to meet them at the airport and drive them to the mansion.
The doors to the arrivals lounge opened and people began to exit. Some looking for loved ones, some looking for their names on small white boards held by limo drivers.
A tall handsome man with curly brown hair and a warm smile walked out of the doors holding the hand of the most spectacular blonde woman Williamson may have ever seen.
They came right to the waiting men. "Mr. Williamson, you look just like the picture on your website," said the man, shaking hands.
"Please call me Bill. And this is Baxter," said Bill Williamson.
"Good to meet you. I'm Chuck," said the man.
"Sarah," said the woman, shaking hands.
"Can we take your bags?" asked Baxter, gesturing to the wheeled luggage behind the couple.
"No, thanks, we've got 'em," said Chuck.
They walked out to the parking lot, Williamson asked, "Good flight?"
"Yes, thank you," Sarah said.
Once in the car and driving to the Island, Williamson, sitting in the front next to Baxter, who was driving, twisted around in the seat to look at Chuck and Sarah.
"I just want you to know that this has been the best job we've ever had to do ...ever since I started the business," he said.
"We paid on time?" asked Sarah with a small smile.
"Yes, you did. But that's not the bit I was referring to. Ms. O'Donnell and Molly are an absolute joy. Just a joy to be around. Ms. O'Donnell is gracious and pleasant and respectful. The baby is always smiling and happy. I can tell you that all of my men...and women...there were a few women on the job...everyone fell in love with her. The very idea that they could need protection...well, it just turns our stomachs. Really makes us see red. Some of them had kids or grandkids her age. I can tell you for sure that any threat to them would have been dealt with … well, vigorously...if you know what I mean. Every one of the folks I had assigned there is just going to miss the heck out of that little girl. And they are loyal to her and her mom. Very, very loyal. I just want you to understand that."
"Thank you, Bill, we appreciate that," said Chuck.
"I'm just glad the threat...has passed," he said.
"Yes. We are as well," said Sarah.
"Just wanted to tell you that," he said.
"Thank you," replied Sarah.
Much of the rest of the car ride proceeded in silence. Bill wasn't too sure, but it seemed to him that Sarah was nervous about something and Chuck was trying to soothe her. But what she had to be nervous about he had no idea.
As the approached the gate to the mansion, Bill sent a text message. A man with a pistol on his belt and a long gun slung over his shoulder opened the gate for them to drive through.
Past a wide green lawn stood the Blair Mansion, almost the size of a small hotel. A swimming pool in back and, further back, the waters of the Gulf bordered by a wide sandy beach.
Baxter got out of the car to the open truck in the rear. Just before Chuck and Sarah got out of the car, Bill looked back at them again and said quietly, "Too bad Hungary doesn't have the death penalty."
Chuck and Sarah looked at him silently for a few moments and Sarah said, "Yeah. It is."
They got out of the car and walked up to the front door to the mansion. The door opened and Ms. O'Donnell stood in the threshold, holding Molly's hand, a peculiar expression on her face.
Williamson watched with curiosity as the two women looked at each other for a few moments and then heard Sarah say, quietly, "Hi, Mom."
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A/N2: Some gentle angst in this chapter. Not a lot, really. I know I promised I wouldn't do angst for a while, but I did think a discussion of whether to keep Molly was appropriate. Frankly, Sarah's right. You can't just go around keeping kids. Societies frown on that stuff. Anybody think I may have found a solution to that particular impediment? Wait a couple of weeks. Let me know how you think this is going, please. And ….BORA LIVES.