A/N: I'm not sure we want to ask China about ownership of Chuck. I'm told that their understanding of intellectual property rights can be … malleable.
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Willard Hotel, Washington, DC
Sarah snuggled into her Chuck, loving her toasty warm feet. She was only partially asleep but came a bit more alert as she felt him begin to disengage. "Noooo," she whined, his chest hair tickling her nose.
"You stay, sweetie," he said, kissing her forehead. "I gotta go."
She hugged him tighter. "Don't go."
"Gotta get up. Meeting the other guys downstairs for breakfast, then we're heading to the FBI again. You stay in bed. You got home really late."
"Just a little longer," she said.
"I wish, but I can't. You don't have to meet Mei-Ling until noon. You stay in bed. I have to go now."
"Hummppff," she said. "Sucks."
"I know, Sweetie. Love you," Chuck said, sliding out of the bed.
"Love you too," murmured Sarah into her pillow. She rolled over and lifted the bed sheet from her naked body and said, with a smirk, "Just to remind you of what you are leaving."
"Oh, you don't play at all fair," he said, shaking his head and smiling.
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FBI Headquarters
The FISA warrants had been obtained for all four targets. Casey, Bryce, Zondra, and Chuck, with Deng's and Tony's help, began to look at the four leads they had with the new information they could assemble.
The first thing Chuck did with this newfound permission was to ping their cell phones. Of course, they might have abandoned their phones and be using burners, but that was a reasonable place to start.
Bluge's phone was in West Virginia and Mulligan's was in Palm Beach, Florida. But, both Herndon and Marston were in Pennsylvania and within range of the same cell tower, covering an area south of Pittsburgh. That perked them all up. It was unlikely to be coincidence. Chuck wanted to get a more specific location, though. Herndon drove a GMC Sierra pick-up truck equipped with the Onstar system. Chuck hacked in and activated the integral GPS in the system and located the truck outside of Amity, Pennsylvania.
While others on the team continued to look into both Bluge and Mulligan, Chuck knocked on Jenny's door.
"Hey, what's up, Chuck?"
"Can I get one of your guys from the Pittsburgh office to do a drive-by of an address? Herndon and Marston are in range of the same cell tower near Amity, Pennsylvania, and I've located Herndon's pick-up to the same area. It's just south of Pittsburgh. Before we do anything else, I'd like to have someone get some eyes on it. See if it's worth a closer look."
"Sure. Give me the location I'll get someone to do it right away. In the meantime, I've got a couple of new leads for you guys to check out."
The team wasn't finding much in the way of useful information on the other two men and were engaged in investigating the new additional leads. They were just beginning to think about lunch when Jenny put through a call from the FBI agent who had driven to Amity.
"This is Carmichael," said Chuck. "I've got you on speaker with the rest of my team."
"Agent Carmichael, I'm Agent Webber. I'm pulled over at a gas station down the road from the spot you were interested in. It's an old summer camp from the looks of the signage. You know? A kids camp? But there's a new lock on the gate and I could see a bunch of vehicles inside. School has started, so there shouldn't be any kids there at this time of the year. The activity is odd."
"What's the terrain?" asked Casey.
"Heavily wooded. Not too much to see from the road. Mostly I just saw the shine of the cars and trucks through the trees. No guards at the gate, at least when I drove past. I can go back for a closer look, but I was just told to do a drive-by. I didn't want to be spotted."
"Yeah. You did the right thing," said Chuck. "What's the name of the camp? I can check it out online."
"Woodland Heights," said Webber.
"We should get someone to take a closer look, I think," said Chuck.
"I'll go," said Casey. "I'm good in the woods and they won't spot me. Want to see if Jenny can get me some gear and a chopper?" Chuck knew how much the older man was frustrated at a desk with the investigation they were conducting and readily agreed.
"Sure. Agent Webber, Colonel Casey from my team is going to be heading your way. Can you find a spot where a helicopter can land?"
"Sure thing. I'll call you back." He disconnected the call.
"If it is really them, we'll have to hit them hard," said Bryce.
"Yeah. I'll talk to Jenny about getting a SWAT team or something on standby."
"We can do that out of our office in Pittsburgh," said Tony. "There's a SWAT team in each field office."
"OK. Casey, let's get you with some eyes on target. The rest of us can stay here and work on the new leads."
"Right, kid."
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Amity, Pennsylvania
Casey was wearing a ghille suit over his combat fatigues. He looked like a bush. The head-to-toe netting of the ghille suit was festooned with strips of burlap and assorted leaves that Casey had plucked from the nearby foliage. He was armed, heavily of course, but his most important tools at the moment were his camera (with telephoto lens) and his radio. He was lying in the dirt on a hill overlooking the activity of the camp.
Although the FBI SWAT team was standing by in Pittsburgh, it made no sense to move them on target until Casey found something of concern. Something that would allow Federal law enforcement to act.
The camp was composed of much open ground with a handful of buildings around the edge. Some looked to be bunks, but a larger one more in the center seemed to be a meeting place/commissary. There was a vent along one edge, as if it held a kitchen. One of the buildings was the armory, as it was where the weapons came from. There was an unguarded motor pool along the west side of the facility. A smaller building was off to the side, but there had been no activity there.
In the prior hour and a half, he'd seen no less than thirty men with weapons moving around the area, including Herndon and Marston. To him, it was pretty obvious they were military men preparing for a mission. He'd reported that to Jenny Statler and Chuck in DC, on the other end of the radio connection. Jenny had pointed out that men with guns weren't illegal in and of themselves and weren't the problem of the FBI. Idiots cosplaying as soldiers were an everyday occurrence. He should keep looking.
After that, he watched as they practiced using pickup trucks to stop a simulated convoy (like, for example, a Presidential motorcade). Ramming vehicles, blocking vehicles, immediately spreading infantry from the backs of the trucks with fields of fire being worked out. His professional opinion was that it was a suicide mission. There was no cover or covering fire being contemplated. Smash and run into a hail of Secret Service bullets. Stupid shit. At least some of them should be smarter than this. The officers were a man and a woman, which DC thought was interesting, but not determinative. They were wearing caps and sunglasses, and couldn't be identified beyond that. The Twins? Casey couldn't be sure.
Eventually, the men came out with full auto weapons, firing them at the mounted targets along one side of the field. Thinking this was the moment, Casey called it in to DC, only to be told that one of more of them might have a Class III firearms license, making full-auto weapons legal. Until they know for sure, there was no sending in the FBI SWAT guys.
Casey had been there, hiding in the woods, for more than three hours and his stomach hurt. But, having been through these operations before, he had overdosed on Imodium before heading into the bush. The last thing he wanted was to have to extricate himself from the target observation site in order to find a quiet tree to take care of his business. He knew he'd suffer for it later, but it was part and parcel of what he'd signed up for.
It was another half hour when they came out with a missile tube. The officers, the man and a woman, brought the men into clusters to brief them on the weapon. Casey had been photographing the scene in front of him and sending the images back to Chuck. With the missile tube, Casey said, "Carmichael, I think that's an old French SARPAC. I can't tell the warhead, but it's not gonna be good," Casey said, referring to a type of anti-tank weapon. A little on the older side, but pretty deadly in any event.
"Shit. Ok, let me talk to Jenny. Unless that thing is a movie prop, I think we now have the probable cause to hit the camp. Stay tuned."
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White House
Sarah approached Kemp and said, "Fred, Chuck and the rest of the team might have a lead in Pennsylvania, south of Pittsburgh. Too early to tell, but Colonel Casey is already there on recon. He's caught sight of an anti-tank weapon. That gives us the justification to move in on the group. An FBI SWAT team is enroute."
"Ok, thanks. I want to know what's going on with it. Can you and Cho get there to represent the Service? To observe? Can you get there in time?"
"Absolutely. If you can get me a fast car."
"Done. Get up there and watch what's going on and let me know. We can all breathe easier if these guys are stopped."
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Amity, Pennsylvania
"Recon, any change?"
Casey responded, "Negative. Twenty-one targets are in the center area. Six in the short western building. Two near the gate. Three location unknown."
"Roger, Recon. Let us know if anything changes."
"Roger," responded Casey.
"Team One?"
"In position," responded Team One.
"Team Two?"
"In position," responded Team Two.
"Team Three?"
"In position," responded Team Three.
"Overwatch?"
"Overwatch in position one mile south of target," responded the helicopter.
"Execute," said the leader.
Casey watched as the three teams of heavily armed FBI agents moved in on the camp. The two men at the gate were taken first and silently by Team One. Leaving a man behind to secure the prisoners, the balance of Team One moved up the road.
Meanwhile, Team Two was approaching from the other side of the camp, through the woods. Crouched at the edge of the woods, hidden by the foliage, Team Two waited for the other two teams to be ready. With a single hand gesture, the three teams rushed forward. A dozen men from one of the teams rushed into the western building, where Casey had located six targets. There were flashes of gunfire from the building.
As it was a law enforcement action, they didn't shoot first. They moved silently as close as possible and, at the last second, screamed for the targets to surrender to the FBI. As he watched, he considered that he was happy he didn't have to live with those rules of engagement either as a Marine or as a spy. Having to announce your presence and intentions and waiting to see what the targets were going to do in response was … well, it would certainly tighten the sphincter, that's for damn sure.
Most of the men surrendered quickly, without violence.
The two officers bolted for the otherwise quiet building to the side. A few men from one of the teams followed cautiously.
Unexpectedly, the back wall of the wooden building burst out as a car in reverse crashed through it and into the woods behind. Although the woods seemed to be blocked by undergrowth, the car made it through without incident.
Casey called, "Overwatch, this is Recon. Do you read?"
"Go ahead, Recon," said the helicopter.
"We have a runner. Red Miata leaving the camp. Through the woods to the north. Heading to route 4," said Casey.
"Roger, Recon. We're on it."
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Amity, Pennsylvania
Sarah and Mei-Ling were sitting in the Dodge Charger that Fred had gotten for them. It had gotten them to Amity from DC in record time, mostly due to Sarah's borderline insane driving. Mei-Ling, rather than being scared, seemed to spend the entire ride grinning.
They were parked on the side of Route 4, listening to the action on the radio and hoping for the best when the red Miata cut from the woods onto the road and whipped past them. They just barely saw the man and woman in the other car.
"Shit, shit, shit," said Sarah.
While Sarah was dealing with the car, Mei-Ling grabbed at the microphone for the radio and said, "Casey, Sarah and I have the Miata in sight and are in pursuit." She hadn't used the right code words or whatnot, but was sure that she'd be forgiven.
Their car was pointed in the wrong direction. Sarah didn't care. Looking behind her over a shoulder, she put the car in reverse and stomped on the accelerator. The Charger launched itself after the fleeing Miata. Sarah was driving as fast as she could down the highway, chasing the fleeing car, backwards.
There's only so fast a car can go in reverse and, shortly, Sarah had reached that limit. She threw the car into a controlled spin, stomped the brake, shifted gears to drive, and stomped the gas, all while in a skid in the direction she was heading. The engine, the transmission and the tires all screamed in dismay, but Sarah did it without seeming to think it was any more exciting than sitting in a pew in church. As if she did it twice a day every day. Mei-Ling, who had had the advanced driving classes offered by the MSS was pretty much awestruck by Sarah's calm proficiency behind the wheel.
Sarah punched out of the skid and rocketed down the highway after the Miata. Although the other car was lighter, the Charger's engine was very powerful and she began to gain on their prey. The couple in the other car must have seen that, and they began to seriously run.
Sarah and Mei-Ling could hear see the helicopter overhead and knew from the radio traffic that the Miata couldn't turn off for at least a couple of miles.
As they caught up to the fleeing Miata, Sarah came up behind it and tried to maneuver to its left. The two cars were screaming down the two-lane road at a little over a hundred miles an hour. Sarah intended to execute the PIT maneuver. Come up to the other car and cause a spin by laterally tapping the rear quarter panel with the nose of the Charger. At this speed it could likely cause the other car to roll, but it would certainly stop it.
They were passing a side road just as Sarah had pulled up to the right spot to spin the other car. The red car braked suddenly and Sarah and Mei-Ling shot past as the other car turned right with a howl of tires.
"Fuck. Shit, shit, shit," yelled Sarah, spinning their car around with a bootlegger's turn, a controlled 180 degree spin to face the direction they had come from.
Mei-Ling shouted into to the microphone, "Target turned right off route 4 onto...onto...I don't know...a road to the right." The Chinese spy was braced against the side of the car to steady herself as it rocked from side to side.
Sarah had the Charger heading down the side road and was accelerating back up to their previous speed, but the other car was far ahead.
A larger tractor trailer truck was coming at them and the Miata seemed to dodge behind it and disappear. As they got closer, they saw that it had taken another turn. Sarah threw their car into the turn, pinning Mei-Ling to the side of the car.
Traffic was increasing as they got closer to a big shopping center. Sarah dodged in and around the other cars at an insane speed, but the little red car got no closer.
The helicopter announced over the radio that the target car was turning into the shopping mall. "Yeah, no shit. I can see that," growled Sarah.
Trying to get out of the way of the speeding Miata, two cars got into an accident and ended up blocking the mall entrance from Sarah's direction. She immediately swerved around them onto the grass divider between lanes. As she made the hard right turn on the grass to get into the mall, her tires spun for a moment on the grass, digging into the soft dirt beneath. It only lasted a moment, but by the time she had made it back onto the road, to drive the wrong way through the exit lane and into the mall, the red car was approaching the entrance to a Macy's department store.
"Shit," Sarah said under her breath.
The Miata stopped and the two occupants leapt from it and through the entrance into the store. Sarah pulled up onto the sidewalk near the entrance and jumped from her car. Mei-Ling similarly jumped out, but clambered across the hood of the stopped Charger rather than take the time to run around the vehicle.
Both women ran through the door and into the store with their guns in their hands, pointed at the ceiling.
And they found nothing on the other side. Racks of clothes, mannequins, shoppers startled into shock by the sight of the guns.
Sarah took out her ID and held it aloft in her left hand. Loudly she announced, "Federal officers. The couple that just came through these doors. Where'd they go?"
The startled looks didn't change. No one said a word.
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FBI Headquarters
Chuck said to Sarah, the phone tucked between his cheek and his shoulder, his fingers on the keyboard in front of him, "I see them coming through the doors to the store and leaving the camera frame, but I lose them after that. They don't show up on the next camera."
"How? They can't just disappear," she said, with frustration.
"I know. Of course, not. But they are gone. I don't know how, but poof."
"Shit," said Sarah. "Ghosts."
"Yeah. You were going to try to get the whole mall shut down..."
"Yeah. That's a fucked-up plan. By the time we got through to the rent-a-cops running the place and explained what we needed, and they got through to their bosses, it was almost an hour later. No point by then."
"Stolen cars from the parking lot?"
"I know. We thought of that too. Nothing so far. I guess there's still a chance in time, but if they stole a car already, we think we'd know about it by know," said Sarah.
"So, if they didn't steal one, they had a car stashed there. Which means it was a pre-planned escape route. Which means we won't find them soon enough to catch them."
With a long sigh, Sarah said, "That's just what I'm thinking."
"Fuck," said Chuck.
"Yeah," said Sarah.
"If there's any good news it's that the prisoners from the camp are talking. It was supposed to be a daylight hit on the Presidential motorcade," said Chuck.
"Glad it's shut down," she said.
"Yeah. Me too. I miss you. Drive back safe. I love you," he said.
"I love you too. See you soon," she said, with a heavy sigh.
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Willard Hotel, Washington, DC
It was very late that night, or early the next morning, depending on your point of view, when Sarah crawled into his bed.
Chuck said, "You ok, sweetie? Drive ok?"
"Yeah. I'm ok. You were awake?" She cuddled her naked body next to his.
"Sort of," he said.
She looked at him surprised. "Not worried about me, were you?"
"Naw. You were just driving. I don't worry about you driving," he said. "People shooting at you, sure, but driving I think you have pretty well covered."
"So..." She knew he was upset about something.
He let out a long sigh. "Everyone was congratulating me..us... for stopping the Twins. That we managed what no one had ever done...blah, blah, blah. The Presidents are both safe. The threat has passed. Even if we didn't catch them, we stopped them." He didn't sound at all convinced.
"And?"
"I read all those files, sweetie. Every one. I know as much about the Twins as anyone. They are so much smarter than this, sweetie. So much smarter."
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A/N2: In a few days it will be the 4th anniversary of the publication of this story. Four years. Holy smoke. If anyone had told me then that I would still be doing this today, I would have thought them insane. But here I am. Over 700,000 words and (coincidentally) views, more reviews than any other Chuck fanfiction, and almost 200 chapters. And, most importantly, the innumerable dear friends I've made in this community. The cool thing is, I'm just getting started. I love this stuff and I'm still having a ton of fun every single week. I have plans for New Day going on for years of story time. We still have to deal with Orion, Fulcrum, the wedding, Shaw, the Ring, pregnancy, Mary, Volkoff, children, Quinn, and more. Unless I get hit by a bus, I'm going to be writing this story for a long, long time. I hope you will be with me to read it. Thank you all. Thank you.
A/N3: As Woody Allen said in Annie Hall: "But enough about me. What do you think of me?" In the same vein, what do you think of this chapter?