A/N: Happy Wednesday and welcome to Chapter 20 – Morgan McClane?. I hope you enjoy it!

Last chapter, Roark reached out to Langston Graham, who connected him to a former German Special Forces soldier turned mercenary. While Roark was accelerating his plans, Special Agent Chuck Bartowski's remains were laid to rest in front of a distraught gathering of family friends and one love.

From beyond the grave, a very alive Chuck Bartowski was able to locate Alexei Volkoff in Venezuelan territorial waters. Chuck was also able to find documents that linked a shadowy law firm to Roark, the bank and the trust he was using to accumulate stock in Vostock Oil and Gas. Chuck's talent for finding and synthesizing information impressed everyone, but when Chuck revealed he had help from ADIE, Sarah's jealous and possessive side surfaced, and Chuck needed to move fast to explain. So lots of questions, but some of the answers seem to be hidden in the air-gapped servers of Dewey, Cheatham and Howe LLC…..

I want to thank you all for the amazing support and give a special shout out to those of you who enjoyed learning about the book on Chuck's nightstand. I also have to say that I've never received so many encouraging PM's from so many readers before…and for that, I am incredibly grateful! Thanks!

My thanks go to klipdoctor and CliffM for beta and pre-reading respectively. These guys were busy, but still made time to support me. So awesome...thanks guys!

Finally, and as usual, I don't own Chuck or profit in any way from writing this completely AU story.

Valkyrie and Her Invisible Shield

Chapter 20 – Morgan McClane?

Date: Saturday, 1 January, 2023

Time: 09:00 EST

Location: 1811 14th Street North, Arlington, Virginia – John Casey Residence

"Who the hell is calling at nine on New Year's Day?" John Casey grumbled as he headed to the bedroom to find the offending phone. Casey, being a former Marine, had been up for hours, but he still disliked the intrusion on what should have been a quiet morning. He tensed as he saw it was the burner.

"Chuck, what's wrong?" Casey answered, anticipating a problem.

"Mr. Casey, It's Sarah Walker. I'm so sorry to call you this early on a holiday, but I needed to speak with you urgently."

For the next twenty minutes, Sarah explained the documents Chuck had forwarded and went into detail about their conversation. She then presented Casey with her idea.

"Ms. Walker, I don't like it….I don't like it at all." His expression was sour as he spoke.

"To be completely honest, Casey, I don't love it either, and if Chuck, Mom, or Dad found out, they'd kick my ass, but I think we have a tiny window to pull this together, and without my knowledge of legal documents and corporate structures, mergers, acquisitions, shells, trusts, etc, there is no way….with all due respect….that you would know what to look for. And given that today is a holiday, virtually no one should be in the office."

Casey thought about it for another minute before cautiously indicating his conditional support. "You make a lot of sense, Ms. Walker. Give me a few minutes to think through how we do this, and I'll call you back." Casey hung up the phone and went to his computer, initiating a search for Dewey, Cheatham, and Howe LLP in Baltimore.

The firm's offices were on the 12th floor of the Alex Brown building at 1 South Street in Baltimore, a modern multi-tenant high-rise. Casey looked on Google Maps and found several law firms who had paid for visibility, their names visible on the search engine, including a more prominent New York-based firm with space on multiple floors, including the 12th. As he looked over his findings, the framework of a plan started to come together. He had some calls to make before getting back to Sarah Walker.

-O-

Date: Saturday, 1 January, 2023

Time: 18:50 EST

Location: One South Street, Baltimore, Maryland – Alex Brown Building

Chuck pulled the old Jeep Cherokee into a vacant spot near the parking garage entrance of the building and adjusted the long, dark ponytail wig, baseball cap, and thick glasses before slipping out of the car. He was dressed in black and carried a black messenger bag with the laptop he had stolen from the President and some tools. Before ducking into the garage, he quickly spotted the cameras and called the building security desk from one of his burner phones. He needed the guard to pay attention to the phone, not the security camera feeds.

As soon as the security guard picked up the phone, Chuck started ordering Chinese food, only allowing the guard to interrupt his order once he had walked past the camera's field of view. Once safely in the garage, he apologized for calling the wrong number and hung up.

He then opened his laptop and pulled out the floor plan and schematics he had downloaded earlier in the day, making his way toward one of the many service closets accessible through the loading dock next to the underground tenant's parking. He pulled out his bump and made short work of the locked door, navigating to the electrical closet that managed the elevators. He connected to the elevator control panel using a standard Cat 5 cable and started typing. Five minutes later, he opened a second closet and, using a tablet, connected to the feed of the security system. He took a two-minute video of the empty elevator he intended to use, looped it, and, using alligator clips, connected the looped feed to play on the guard station's video screen. The next step was to take the elevator up to the twelfth floor.

Chuck approached the heavy mahogany door adorned with a brass plate announcing the offices of Dewey, Cheatham, and Howe LLP. Next to the door was a keypad, which was easy enough to defeat, but he was more concerned with the rather unusual-looking lock. It looked like a heavy-duty lock, but Chuck suspected it required a digital key. With enough time, tools, and materials, he might sort it out, but not knowing what kind of response a silent alarm might trigger, he quickly pivoted to plan B to access the glass and metal door of the small personal injury law firm next door, then climb through an air duct to get inside. Once inside, he would use his software to scan the law firm's servers and copy everything he could, leaving no trace.

Defeating the simple tumbler lock was easy, and following the building schematic on his laptop, he found the office with the most favorable access point. Chuck quickly worked on removing the vent from the wall, slipped inside, and pushed his way to a gate that opened into an office supply closet. Chuck still suffered some residual effects from his injury, so he struggled with the slow crawl in the tight space, but at least he didn't have to climb into the ceiling.

Less than ten minutes later, Chuck found an unlocked small internal office. He sat at the desk, his small headlamp with a red bulb illuminating his workspace. He connected his laptop to the local network and unleashed ADIE to search through the servers to identify and copy the relevant files. If everything went according to plan, Chuck estimated that he could unplug and leave without a trace in between fifteen and twenty minutes. And because everything had, in fact, gone according to plan, Chuck relaxed a little and stretched his shoulders, breathing a sigh of relief. Just as he settled into a calm focus, he heard the unmistakable sound of hushed voices. The offices were being searched! He turned off the headlamp and squeezed under the desk, carefully pulling the laptop with him to ensure he didn't lose the connection. 'Shit!' he thought to himself as he considered his path of escape. The supply closet was only two doors down, but leaving before the download was complete was not an option. He looked at his Luminox wristwatch and cursed to himself.

-O-

Date: Saturday, 1 January, 2023

Time: 19:00 EST

Location: One South Street, Baltimore, Maryland – Alex Brown Building

Morgan Grimes drove the black stretch limousine to the front of the building and stopped. His passengers, Casey, Verbanski, Carina, and Sarah, were in the back of the car dressed in business attire, each carrying a briefcase.

"Okay, let's go….and remember, you own the place." He spun back in his seat and exited the vehicle, walking briskly through the front doors and to the reception desk manned by a single guard.

"Can I help you?" The night shift guard asked.

"Good evening, my name is Rhodes, and I'm with Harwood, Harley, and Peckham's New York Office. We had a large deal close late last night, before the end of the tax year, and we need to courier some documentation back to New York. Someone from head office should have notified you of our arrival." Casey had arranged for General Beckman to allocate one of the NSA's hackers to have the firm's managing partner add Mr. Rhodes and company to the visitor log. After the team had concluded their mission, the digital log would be deleted, leaving no trace, and the guard who ended his shift in the morning would have no reason to personally communicate the arrival of visitors.

"Uhm…right. Got you right here, Mr. Rhodes." He opened the security gate and then pointed to an elevator bank. "You'll need to take one of those elevators to the 16th floor."

"Thank you. We should be done in an hour or two." Casey commented before turning toward the elevator bank and entering a waiting elevator. Once on 16, they found the stairs and climbed down to the 12th floor, where, before exiting the stairwell, all four slipped out of their business attire, revealing black body suits. Black crepe-soled shoes were pulled out of their briefcases, and each donned a black balaclava.

Casey opened the door and approached the heavy mahogany doors bearing the firm's brass nameplate.

"Verbanski, lock pick," Casey spoke as he knelt down to examine the lock while extending a hand to receive the kit the agent carried. Casey was surprised at how calm and collected Sarah and Carina were, but to keep their head in the game, he asked what they should be looking for while he worked the lock.

Sarah obliged by explaining that the documents referred primarily to one of the named partners, Howard Cheatham, and an associate named Sidney Price. She explained that their names would almost certainly be on their respective office doors, and the files would be in locked cabinets. They had planned for that, but if the documents were stored in a safe, they would be out of luck.

Just as Sarah finished explaining, Casey was rewarded by a solid click as the tumblers fell into line, and the door could be opened.

"Ms. Walker, you stick with Verbanski. Ms. Miller, you're with me. Ready?" Casey looked at the other three sets of eyes, peering out of the nodding black balaclavas, and acknowledged with a nod of his own before standing and opening the door. As the heavy door swung open effortlessly, the four blackened figures entered the space, immediately looking to orient themselves to the corner offices. No one noticed a small red LED light flashing under the receptionist's desk as they moved.

-O-

"Casey…" Carina whispered to get his attention. "Cheatham's office."

Casey rushed over and set himself to unlock the office door, which he accomplished with a bump key in less than thirty seconds. Once inside, he set to work on opening the filing cabinets. Within minutes, Carina scanned the files and photographed the relevant documents using a high-resolution digital camera.

Across the office, Verbanski found a small internal office with the name Sidney Price on the door. "Sarah, in here…" She called out quietly, then tried the door, which surprisingly was not locked. "Let's go."

The two women entered and immediately saw a row of tall oak cabinets lining one wall. Outside each of the locked drawers were letters corresponding to the names of the files they contained.

"Sarah, what are we looking for?"

"The main file is called Fulcrum Trust, so Open…"

Chuck stilled himself as he saw two sets of feet enter the office and move toward the file cabinets. Then, as the two intruders spoke, he heard her name and immediately recognized her voice. "Sarah? Is that you?" Chuck had been keeping his breathing shallow to avoid detection. "What the hell are you doing here? And is that Gertrude?"

Sarah pulled her balaclava off, her golden hair spilling out of the fabric as her piercing blue eyes focused on Chuck with his long hair, glasses, and beard. "What are we doing here? What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in hiding?" Sarah exclaimed, her eyes wide with surprise.

"Easy, kids," Gertrude interrupted. "We have work to do."

"Jesus…. Okay. Everybody stop. I'm downloading all the contents of the digital files. I'm almost done. Who else is with you?" Chuck calmed himself as he spoke

"Casey and Carina are photographing files at the other end of the office." As Verbanski replied, Chuck's laptop flashed a green one hundred percent symbol.

"Gertrude, go get'em. I have everything…..we need to get out of here." Chuck commanded as Gertrude disappeared down the darkened hallway. Chuck froze momentarily and turned to "Sarah, how did you guys get into the office?"

"Easy. Casey picked the lock on the door. Took less than two min-"

"Fuck!" Chuck interrupted Sarah as he quickly disconnected from the network and returned his laptop to his messenger bag. "We gotta move…..now!" He stood, and as he grabbed Sarah's hand, he heard shouting, then gunfire.

-O-

The security company dispatcher saw the alarm on his computer screen, followed by a text box with special instructions. The message on the screen was a special instruction that required the dispatcher to call a number, provide the alarm details, and under no circumstances call local law enforcement or deploy his company's own guards to the client's facilities. The dispatcher read the note, called the number on the screen, and relayed the relevant information before terminating the call.

Across town, another dispatcher received the call from the security company and called their special rapid response team. "Alpha team, respond priority one to Dewey, Cheatham, and Howe offices, Suite 1220, One South Street, Baltimore. Silent alarm triggered. Per the contractual agreement, no local law enforcement will be dispatched."

"Alpha one, copy. ETA less than ten minutes."

Eight minutes later, a pair of black Range Rovers pulled up to the building and parked just a few yards behind Morgan Grimes and his limousine. Morgan watched as six large men in tactical gear and carrying automatic weapons raced toward the building entrance.

"Casey, you have company coming!" Morgan announced on the comlink but received no acknowledgment. "Casey, do you copy?" He tried again but with a similar lack of response.

"Fuck!" Morgan shouted as he ran to the back of the limousine and opened the trunk to access the secure weapons locker. He pulled out a pair of M4 CQBs, a shortened version of the M4 Carbine ideal for close-quarters engagements, along with extra magazines, and raced after the armed men.

As Morgan entered the lobby, he saw one of the armed men standing by the security guard with a pistol in his hand. He had been left behind to ensure the guard didn't call local police. As Morgan approached at a dead run, he identified himself as a Special Agent of the Secret Service and ordered the armed man to drop his weapon. Unfortunately, instead of complying, the man shifted his weight, bringing the muzzle of his pistol towards Morgan, who already had his M4 CQB flush against his shoulder.

Morgan pumped two rounds center mass without hesitation, knocking the man backward off his feet. The man's vest stopped the bullets, but the impact was still significant, and he groaned as he tried to raise the gun again, this time receiving a round in the forehead for his troubles.

"You're with me!" Morgan shouted at the guard. "Now!"

The two moved towards the elevator, and Morgan handed over the spare carbine and an extra thirty-round magazine, making sure the weapon was set on three-round bursts. He looked at the man's name tag. "Andy, you look like you can handle yourself. Have you ever used a weapon like this before?"

"Yes, Sir," Andy replied. "Two tours. Iraq and Afghanistan. Who were those guys?"

"Don't know, but it's never a good idea to point a gun at a member of the Secret Service. And it's even dumber to try again after taking two in your vest!" Morgan was looking at lights illuminating the floors as the elevator climbed.

"Andy, your weapon is hot and set to three-round bursts. You stay behind me and keep that thing pointed down unless I tell you or you see an imminent threat. You have a thirty-round mag, but set on three-round bursts, so think ten shots, then reload….. Okay? The bad guys are armed and dressed like the guy downstairs. We don't shoot at anyone else….got me?"

Andy nodded just as the elevator reached the 12th floor and the doors opened. Morgan cleared left and right, then heard the gunshots.

-O-

"Holy shit….Sarah, with me." Chuck grabbed Sarah's hand, quickly checked the hallway, then yanked Sarah down two doors and pushed her into the supply closet, closing the door behind them. He moved the grate that covered the vent and pointed. "Get inside….quietly…..go straight ahead, then left. It's only fifteen or twenty feet!"

Sarah dove in and started crawling while Chuck pulled out two heavy magnets to secure the grate back in place after he slipped inside, which he now needed to do going backward. The exit was considerably more difficult and painful because he needed to use his chest muscles more to press himself back. It took him much longer than Sarah, and when he got out, he was covered in sweat and wincing in pain. He shook it off, putting the grate back, then leading Sarah to the front door of the small law firm. He looked both ways and saw the elevator he had commandeered sitting, waiting.

Chuck reached into the small of his back and drew his service weapon with his right hand, and with his left, he grabbed Sarah's hand.

"Sarah, we're going to make a break for that elevator. As soon as we get in, you move to the side and press yourself against the side wall. Ready?"

Sarah nodded.

"Go!"

It felt like forever, but the sprint across the elevator lobby took only a few seconds, Sarah tucking herself behind Chuck, her mind willing the elevator doors to open. A moment later, the doors quietly slipped closed, and the elevator descended to its pre-programmed destination, the garage.

Chuck exited first and cleared left, then right. "Come on, Sarah, stay close." He led her back to the two closets to pick up the equipment he'd temporarily installed, then walked back out to the garage. "Here, put this on, and keep your chin down," He instructed, handing Sarah her rolled-up balaclava, which now resembled a knitted cap. "The cameras are pointing at anyone coming in, but there's no need to give away your hair color." Sarah carefully pulled the headwear low on her head and tucked her blonde hair inside it. They were in Chuck's Jeep in less than four minutes, pulling away from the curb. His eyes scanned their surroundings, front, back, right, and left, ensuring they hadn't picked up a tail. He reached for Sarah's hand and let out a deep breath.

"That was too close. Are you okay?"

Sarah was still riding the adrenaline of their escape but did not seem to be going into shock, even though her hand felt cold and a little shaky. "I'm okay, Chuck." Then Sarah's eyes widened as she spun in her seat. "Chuck, oh my God…..Carina. What if something happened to Carina?"

Chuck gently pulled his hand back from Sarah's, reached into his pocket, and pulled out his burner.

-O-

"Casey, you will not believe this; Bartowski is in Sidney Price's office. He's already downloaded everything electronically, so we can bug out." Gertrude was almost chuckling when the glass next to her shattered as the sound of gunfire erupted.

"Down!" Casey shouted as Gertrude hit the deck, and Casey dove on top of Carina, covering her. "Move….back into the office….behind the desk…..go." As they moved, they heard the leader of the armed men shout. "Smitty, take Applebaum and check the rest of the floor. If it moves, kill it. Go." He then gave hand signals to the two remaining men with him. He then stood and spoke out loud. "You people inside the office, come out with your hands up, and you have my word that you will not be harmed."

Gertrude looked at Casey, shook her head no, and received an acknowledgment. Casey peeked from around the edge of the heavy wooden desk. "Hey fuckwad, do you realize you just opened fire on federal agents in the middle of a national security investigation? Put your weapons down and walk back out to the elevator lobby, and I'll be out to show you my credentials."

As Casey finished his comments, additional gunfire was heard in the hallway. The head of the security team barked out a laugh. "That'll be my guys taking care of your partners. Put your fucking hands up and come out here slowly because if I need to come in there and get you, it will be much worse for…" The team leader felt the hot muzzle of a barrel pressed against his neck, and he froze.

Morgan had come up behind the man, putting the business end of his M4 CQB against the back of his neck before speaking.

"Yippee-ki-yay motherfucker…. U.S. Secret Service. Drop it, and tell your two buddies to surrender, or I'm going to put a bullet through your skull."

"Hey fuckwad, you still there?" Casey was surprised the man had suddenly gone quiet.

"Hey, boss, it's me….got you covered. Fuckwad's playmates need to drop their weapons, or I'm going to ventilate their chief right here right now." Morgan replied with a little grin as he spoke. "By the way, Fuckwad, your guy downstairs and the two guys you sent back the other way won't be coming to work tomorrow."

It took another minute, but the remaining men surrendered and were summarily zip-tied using their own restraints. As Casey and Morgan finished securing the men, Gertrude returned and whispered in Casey's ear. "Casey, Chuck, and Sarah are gone. There didn't seem to be any other tangos here, so I guess they got away clean." As Casey and Gertrude spoke, Morgan moved toward Carina and pulled her into a quiet corner.

"You okay, babe?" Morgan asked as Carina embraced him.

"Yeah, I guess. Never been shot at before, so I'm still trying to process it. Those other men, did you…"

"I had to, Carina. These were very bad men who wouldn't have hesitated to kill everyone here. But all that matters is that you are okay. He smiled softly and kissed her forehead.

"Morgan, I need to make a call….watch'em, and if they so much as peep, put a slug in'em." Casey pulled out his phone to call Chuck when it suddenly vibrated.

"Chuck?"

"Yeah, it's me, and I have Sarah. Are you guys okay? Carina?" Chuck was relieved to hear his boss's voice.

"We're fine. Is Sarah okay?" Casey asked.

"Sarah's great. I'm taking her to the cottage so she can help me decipher the documents I downloaded." Chuck paused for a moment. "Casey, you should have told me you were planning to break into the law firm, and you never should have included Sarah." There was some steel in his voice.

"Yeah? Well, you shouldn't have planned your little adventure without clearing it with me, either, numbnuts! And by the way, it was Walker's idea to do this….she pulled in Carina because they were the only two who could decipher the legal documents and figure out what was important to photograph. She wanted to help you, Chuck." Casey responded in an equally steely voice.

"Okay, okay…I guess we can all work on our communication skills a little. The important thing is that we all got out okay. We should be back at the cottage by twenty-three hundred."

"Alright, Chuck. Take care of Walker, and we'll speak tomorrow. And no more stealth missions without clearing it with me, okay?"

"Fair enough, Casey. By the way, what's the status there?"

"Three dead, three in custody. Minor damage to the office, but Beckman is sending a cleaner team, so the place should be spotless by tomorrow. Oh….and we got the team leader. These guys are ex-military private contractors that the security was to use exclusively for any calls related to that law firm. Beckman arranged for a couple of FBI people to visit the security company and squash the whole thing, including the alarm, while another team went to the site of the special security contractor that dispatched the Alpha team with a search warrant. We've also briefed the building security, so we're good for now, but you need to work faster."

"Copy that, Casey. I'll keep Sarah overnight, and tomorrow, we can set up a safe place for her to be picked up and brought to New York." Chuck finished his thoughts on the critical next steps.

"Sounds good, Chuck. Keep me posted."

"Okay. Good night, Casey." Chuck put his phone away and looked at Sarah.

"Sarah, what you did was incredibly dangerous. If anything happened to you, I mean….I just….I just don't know what I would do if something happened to you."

"I'm sorry, Chuck. I got the idea while we talked last night and called Casey this morning to tell him. Things moved pretty quickly after that, but I guess we were lucky you were there. I just wanted to help get this damned thing behind us. I can't imagine what might have happened without you."

Chuck smiled warmly and reached for her hand as Sarah leaned into the center console separating them. The rest of the drive was made in relative silence, with only one stop at a McDonald's drive-through near Hershey, Pennsylvania, for some burgers and drinks, which they ate silently while driving. Less than three hours later, Chuck steered the Jeep down the short tree-lined driveway to the cottage as Sarah looked out over the darkened lake.

"It's beautiful." Sarah mused quietly.

"It is. And it's tranquil. The lake is busy during the summer, but I've hardly seen anyone here since I arrived. It's a perfect place to lie low. The inside is charming too…..come on." Chuck gave Sarah's hand a squeeze. "I think you'll love it."

-O-

Date: Saturday, 1 January, 2023

Time: 23:40 EST

Location: Number One Observatory Circle, Washington, D.C. - Vice Presidential Residence

Roark was in his library watching ESPN and catching up on the New Year's Day college football games he missed when the ringing phone caught his attention. The burner he had used with Volkoff was sitting on a charging pad. He looked at the phone ringing and wondered what it could mean. He had not heard from Decker but hadn't heard a peep from Volkoff either. Wrong number, maybe? On New Year's Day at almost midnight? Odd…..He walked over and picked up the phone.

"Who is this?" Roark shouted aggressively into the phone, but there was no sound from the other end.

Volkoff was surprised about how much he enjoyed the turn of events and decided to let Roark hang in the wind for a few seconds longer. He wanted Roark mad….screaming mad before he ruined his day.

"Who the hell…?"

"Calm yourself, my old friend. You'll have a stroke." Volkoff spoke calmly, his voice friendly.

Roark's mind sputtered as the realization hit that Volkoff was alive and well and probably hidden in a deep, dark place that Roark might never find, let alone reach. Obviously, Decker had failed and was probably dead. His mind sharpened quickly and engaged his enemy. "Alexei. Thank God you're okay. I tried to call you but never got an answer, so I feared the worst. Where are you?"

"Oh, Teddy, you little peacock. So concerned with my good health that you sent an assassin after me. I'm so disappointed with your lack of creativity."

"Alexei, I have no idea what you are talking about. What assassin?" Roark held on to the role he was playing.

"Really, little peacock? Did you really think I wouldn't find out? I know it was you, and the American you sent is no longer a concern." Volkoff laughed. "Teddy, because we are old friends and business associates, I'll help you understand your position. You see Teddy, I have everything….I have recorded all the calls between us, the funds transfers, everything. Under different circumstances, I would start leaking this information to isolate you, then have you put in jail, and ultimately have one of my associates from little Odessa in New York arrange for you to have an unfortunate accident in whatever jail they put you. This future, your future, is almost inescapable, and all I need to do is hit send on my computer."

"You Russian piece of shit. This wasn't personal….it was strictly business. You must understand that since you're calling me instead of hitting the send key….So, Alexei….What the fuck do you want?"

"It's very simple, Teddy. You see, revenge feels really good, but it seldom pays well. And while I would love to follow your fall from grace and eventual murder on CNN, I'd rather make a couple of billion by controlling the oil and gas that flows into Western Europe. Regrettably, you are still in the best position to make that happen, so you are still useful to me, but understand that while I really want the money, I also really want to see you suffer and die like a dog, so you should be very keen to keep me happy. You have two weeks to get Walker out of office, then another two weeks to lift the sanctions. After that…." Volkoff laughed. "After that, there won't be enough money in the world to save you from what will follow."

"Fuck you, Volkoff. I'm the Vice President of the United States of America, and the only reason I'm not looking for you right now is because I thought you were dead, forcing me to put a more direct plan in place. So sit down, shut the fuck up, and when I finish my project, we'll both get impossibly rich." Now, it was Roark who laughed. "So, we practice détente because we have an economic alignment of interest, and I promise you, Alexei, you don't hold as many cards as you might think you do," Roark smirked as he thought about all the shares in Vostock Oil and Gas he was quietly acquiring from right under Volkoff's nose.

Volkoff was enraged but knew he could not lose his cool with Roark. "It seems we have no choice but to focus on making our partnership work…..detente indeed, Teddy. Two weeks." Volkoff hung up the call as Roark cursed.

-O-

Date: Sunday, 2 January, 2023

Time: 05:40 EST

Location: 1219 Lake View Drive, Penn Lake, Penn Lake Park, Pennsylvania – Bartowski Safe House

Sarah and Chuck wasted no time downloading the data he copied from the law firm, and now the full version of ADIE was churning through it, reading the documents digitally, identifying links to other documents, and capturing all the relevant data points. Once the data had been downloaded and Chuck had set ADIE's work parameters, he led Sarah by the hand to the upstairs bedroom he had been using.

He walked her into the bathroom and turned on the shower, then very tenderly started to peel Sarah out of the black bodysuit she wore during the raid on the law firm. Once he had her completely naked, she returned the favor by helping him out of his clothes before leading him into the shower. The warm water soothed their frayed nerves and fatigued bodies, and they found comfort in the intimacy of gently washing each other. Once done in the shower, they dried themselves off and slipped under the covers, holding each other without words or movement. Even though neither had the energy to make love, they shared another profoundly intimate and transformational moment, each recognizing that their lives were one.

They had fallen asleep in each other's loving embrace, and it was Chuck who first heard ADIE beeping away in the early morning hours. He checked the time on his watch: five forty in the morning. He carefully slipped himself out of Sarah's arms, pausing momentarily to look at her blissful and angelic expression as she slept. "I am so marrying you, Sarah!" His voice was just above a whisper. He then slipped on a pair of jeans and an old Stanford sweatshirt, quietly making his way downstairs to talk to ADIE.

Sarah's eyes never opened, but a broad smile appeared after she heard Chuck close the door to head downstairs. 'He wants to marry me…. ME!' Sarah thought to herself as she instinctively hugged Chuck's pillow, his scent triggering a desire neither could satisfy last night, and she felt her body tingle. She slipped out of bed and tiptoed down the stairs, feeling the chill against her bare skin. She quietly crept up behind Chuck as he sat in his chair. The three large screens capturing his attention were full of information. As her arms rounded his shoulders from behind, she gently nibbled on his earlobe.

"I need you, Chuck. I need you right now." She came around him, revealing her naked self to him as she climbed onto his lap, straddling him and resting her forehead and the tip of her nose against his. His hands found her hips as her lips found his, and Chuck moaned softly into the kiss as Sarah started grinding into him. The urgency of the kiss deepened and then momentarily broke as Sarah ripped Chuck's sweatshirt over his head before attacking his lips again. Unexpectedly, Chuck grabbed Sarah's ass and stood up as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Chuck swept the mouse and keyboard to the side with one hand, causing them to crash on the floor. He then placed Sarah on the edge of the desk as her fingers found the button of his jeans and the zipper. Moments later, the two joined in a cacophony of grunts, moans, and whispered names as the monitors on the desk swayed back and forth with their joined movements. Their union was a frenzy, lacking romance or tenderness but satisfying a deep need they both felt. Chuck was breathing hard and tried to pull back, but Sarah wasn't going to let Chuck out of her grasp as she locked her ankles behind him, keeping him inside her.

"Don't even think about moving, Chuck. I need you to stay right where you are for just a little longer." Sarah's desperation was driven by the realization that she would need to head back to New York, her office, and work later today. She was determined to make every second with Chuck count until then.

Chuck kissed Sarah's forehead, then she tightened her grip on him, lifted her off the edge of the desk, and walked to the couch, lowering himself on top of her. Their passions started to stir again, and neither paid attention to the flashing red tile on the central monitor on Chuck's desk.