Happy Wednesday from "not so sunny" Seoul, Korea….and welcome to Chapter 21-Baiting Hooks. I really hope you enjoy it.
Last chapter, Sarah together with Casey, Gertrude, Morgan and Carina's raided Dewey Cheatham and Howe LLC, the mysterious law firm that seemed to be the missing link between the trust with the bank and Roark. Unbeknownst to them, Chuck launched his own assault….at the same time. Things went south in a hurry when Casey tripped a silent alarm, but thankfully, Chuck managed to spirit Sarah away to safety while Morgan took out a few bad guys and saved the rest of the team. The good news was that Chuck managed to download the files they were searching for, and in a few hours later, he was able to feed the data to ADIE. While Chuck and Sarah slept in each other's arms, ADIE found something…..
Reader engagement and feedback continues to be amazing across the board….Thank you. I am incredibly grateful.
As usual, my sincere thanks go to klipdoctor and CliffM for beta and pre-reading respectively. Gentlemen, thank you!
Finally, and as usual, I don't own Chuck or profit in any way from writing this completely AU story.
Valkyrie's Invisible Shield
Chapter 21 – Baiting Hooks
Date: Sunday, 2 January, 2023
Time: 07:40 EST
Location: 1219 Lake View Drive, Penn Lake, Penn Lake Park, Pennsylvania – Bartowski Safe House
"My favorite blanket!" Chuck joked, recalling the time they had fallen asleep on the couch in Sarah's apartment in New York as his hands gently cupped Sarah's ass.
"My favorite pillow!" Sarah smiled back as neither made any effort to move, but Chuck could feel the goosebumps on Sarah's backside.
"Baby, this right here is the best thing ever, but I think you need to put something warm on." Slowly, Sarah dismounted Chuck and picked up his previously discarded sweatshirt, putting it on while Chuck put on his jeans. Partially dressed, they made their way into the kitchen to make coffee and scrounge up some breakfast.
After the coffee had been poured and the toasted English muffins with peanut butter and strawberry jam had been eaten, Sarah started cleaning up while Chuck refilled his coffee and returned to his computer. His pace quickened when he noticed the red flashing tile, and he almost spilled his coffee, scrambling to pick up the keyboard and mouse that had been cast off the desk in their moment of uncontrollable passion. He dropped into his chair and clicked on the icon, his eyes scanning the pieces of data popping up on the screen, absorbing his complete focus.
"Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy…." Chuck mumbled to himself momentarily, then shouted over his shoulder, "Sarah, get in here. I need you!"
Sarah heard his shout and smiled to herself. This felt so right. "You ready for round three, lover boy?" she shouted back, refilling her coffee cup.
"No…..I mean, yes. Always. But first, I need you to look at what ADIE pulled together last night while we were….you know….busy." His eyes were locked on the screen, and his fingers flew over the keyboard as Sarah approached, dragging a chair from the kitchen.
"Slow down, Chuck. You're going too fast for me to understand what I'm looking at." Sarah complained.
"I'm just organizing the data. Give me a second…..almost…there!" Chuck hit the "Enter" key and pushed back from the edge of the desk, allowing Sarah to squeeze in. "I asked ADIE to organize the material chronologically by relevant subject and entity to make it easier to follow."
Sarah moved the mouse and clicked on the first tile as she leaned forward, and her focus sharpened. As she read, she showed no expression, her piercing blue eyes, and angelic face a mask of absolute concentration as she digested each document extract and then moved on to the next. She repeated the process for what seemed like dozens of times, then leaned back in her chair, her hands on the edge of the desk and her eyes focused on the screen.
"Holy…..shit, Chuck!" Sarah slowly turned to face him.
"Right?" Chuck replied as their eyes locked.
"Jesus, Chuck. There is so much here…." she pushed herself away from the keyboard to give Chuck room to work. "I mean, it's all here. We need to think about what to do with this." Sarah's brain was going a mile a minute, and while she was turning things around in her head, Chuck accessed his secure messaging site, discovering a message from Casey. He took a moment to open the message and read it carefully before turning to Sarah.
"Sarah, last night Volkoff called Roark on one of the phones we're monitoring, and….well….here, read the transcript yourself," he pointed to the screen and pushed himself back a little.
Sarah took a few minutes to read the transcript of the call a few times, then paused pensively, leaning back in her chair and staring at the ceiling.
"What?" Chuck asked.
Sarah leaned forward again to look Chuck in the eye with a Cheshire cat-like grin. "Chuck, tell me honestly….how good are you with computers?"
"I think I'm pretty good, Sarah. Why?" She gave him a flat look.
"Chuck, cut the fucking modesty, please….how good are you….really?"
"Honestly? When I'm in the zone, I'm fucking untouchable….but again, why?" Chuck asked, a little perplexed.
"Chuck, what do these two bastards really want? I mean, why are they doing all this?" Sarah spread her hands out in front of her to accentuate the point.
"Money and power. I mean, Volkoff wants money to buy more power, and Roark wants power to get more money."
"Okay….so how do we hurt them? I mean, really hurt them?" Sarah coaxed, smiling.
"Well, the simple answer is you take away Volkoff's money and Roark's Power."
Sarah smiled at her boyfriend. "You are one smart cookie, Mr. Bartowski, and a tasty one at that….what we really need to figure out is how we do both simultaneously, and I think their last exchange tells us exactly how to do that."
"Sarah, are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" Chuck raised an eyebrow.
"Well, that depends. If what you're thinking is that we leak some evidence Volkoff has on Roark and somehow let Roark know where to find Volkoff, then yes….but with an additional really fun twist." Sarah's face lit up again with a mischievous smile.
"And that would be…?" Chuck was really intrigued but had no idea what Sarah was thinking.
Sarah rubbed her hands together as her grin widened even further. "Simple. We're going to take away their money….and if we're smart, we can make ourselves rich in the process. It'll be fun!"
"I'm now certain you will be the death of me, Sarah Walker." Chuck gave Sarah a wanton grin as he placed a hand on her thigh and leaned in for a tender kiss.
Sarah pushed herself back. "Careful Mr. Bartowski. You don't want to start something you can't finish!" Sarah then snuck her foot up along Chuck's jeans-covered leg and gingerly positioned it on his groin.
"I'm in sooo much trouble!" Chuck muttered as he used every ounce of strength to push his chair away from Sarah and her tantalizingly sexy foot. "Okay….now that your very lovely foot is not distracting me, walk me through it."
"Not distracting you at all?" Sarah pouted as she wiggled her perfectly pedicured toes at him.
"Okay…still distracted, but….damn it, Sarah, help me out please," Chuck begged for a bit of mercy from Sarah's cruel and very unusual punishment.
"Okay….Fiiiine." She grumbled and huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. She was so gosh-darned adorable that he needed to look away for a moment.
For the next forty minutes, Sarah explained her idea to Chuck, pausing several times to reiterate that this course of action was highly illegal and it was an absolute necessity that Chuck's hacking had to remain absolutely untraceable, to which Chuck barked out a laugh while noting the forty-seven felonies he had committed to date. They also agreed that no one could know about what they planned. But first, they needed to deal with Panzer.
-O-
"Chuck?" Casey answered the second burner in the rotation. "You and Walker okay?
"We're good, Casey," Chuck replied in an upbeat tone. "We've gone through the data we pilfered last night, and it was the motherlode. We can't use any of it in a court of law, but Sarah has some really creative ideas about how to use what we do know against Volkoff and Roark, but you do not want to know about them. But before that, we've gotta take Hugo Panzer out of the game. I read the transcript of the call, and it's reasonably clear what he's been asked to do. I'm thinking about how to make it easier for Panzer to plan something."
There was a pause in the conversation as Casey was trying to catch up with Chuck's thinking. "What are you talking about, Bartowski…you want to make it easier?"
"Right now, we have no idea where, when, or how Panzer would look to take action. But….if we leak some information that sets up an enticing scenario, we may be able to define the where and when. Panzer will almost certainly need some inside information about the President's schedule, so why don't we create an opportunity that would be too good to pass up?" Chuck asked with an enthusiastic voice. "Sarah and I need a few days to get things organized on our end, and we can't risk Panzer taking a shot at any part of the first family while we do that."
Casey thought about it for a minute, then readily agreed. "I like it. Does next weekend give you enough time?"
Chuck looked at Sarah for guidance, and she nodded in the affirmative. "Next weekend is perfect, Casey."
"Okay. I'll have the First Lady's protocol officer pull something together we can leak to Roark, and we will set the trap when he messages Panzer. You sure you can't tell me what you two nincompoops are up to?" Casey naturally assumed it would involve some very malicious hacking, but he never considered the financial angle Sarah was concocting.
"I'm sure, Casey. You really don't wanna know. In fact, I don't really wanna know! This whole thing we've been doing goes against the very laws we swore to uphold, but in certain circumstances, to deal with the devil, you need to play at his level, and given that they went after Sarah, I can live with that."
"Okay, Chuck. We'll play it your way for now. I'll have a word with the President and the First Lady about putting the plan in motion, and I'll connect with you later today about where you and Grimes can meet to hand Walker off." Casey closed the call. He had some plans to make.
-O-
Date: Sunday, 2 January, 2023
Time: 19:30 EST
Location: Normandie Court - 225 East 95th Street, New York City – Walker/Miller Residence
The black Suburban pulled up in front of Sarah's apartment building, and as Sarah reached for the door handle, Morgan Grimes reached over and stopped her.
"Sarah, please wait till we are all clear." Sarah frowned. This is precisely what she didn't want and why she declined the Secret Service's protection in the first place. Her life was no longer her own, at least until she and Chuck skinned Roark and Volkoff for their hubris and greed. She huffed and sank back in her seat, resignation on her face. "Thanks, Sarah. I know this is a pain, but Casey tells me you have a plan, so hopefully, this will only be temporary. Until that happens, I'm afraid you'll need to grin and bear it. Besides, we both made promises to Chuck. You that you would follow instructions, and I promised nothing would happen to you on my watch….. okay?" Morgan gave Sarah a smile.
Morgan exited the vehicle, scanned the immediate surroundings, and opened Sarah's door. He then spoke into his communicator, "Valkyrie is on the move."
As part of Sarah's expanded security detail, Morgan and the agent who drove the SUV escorted her to the elevator. Once they reached the 19th floor, Morgan exited first and cleared the elevator lobby. Once the lobby was cleared, Sarah stepped out of the elevator and noticed two more members of Morgan's expanded team, a male and a female, stationed by her door. As the group approached the door, the female agent opened the door to the apartment. "Welcome home, Ma'am," both agents greeted Sarah.
"Uhm, Thank you. Please call me Sarah." Sarah smiled uncomfortably.
Morgan wanted to set the tone, so he asserted himself. "Ms. Walker, let me introduce you to Special Agent Susan Jacobs and Special Agent Ron Sempers. You will meet the rest of the team as they rotate."
After shaking the agent's hands, Sarah walked into the apartment, grabbed two chairs from the dining area, and started pulling them towards the front door, only to find Morgan in her way. "Sarah, it's not protocol. Sitting causes agents to get comfortable, and being comfortable makes it harder to react when needed."
"Oh, Morgan. It's adorable that you think this is a topic for discussion….if they have to be out there, they get seats, so they at least have the option to sit." Her words were delivered with a gleam in her eye that let Morgan understand this was not a battle worth fighting, so he stepped aside. Once the chairs were put outside and the door was closed, Sarah called Chuck to let him know she had arrived safe and sound, and after a few emotional moments, she closed the call, pouring herself a generous glass of wine and plopping herself down on the couch. Carina's flight had landed thirty minutes earlier, so given the returning holiday traffic, she would be home in about forty-five minutes.
As Sarah and Morgan waited, they passed the time, asking each other questions about how their relationships were progressing. Once Carina texted that she was less than twenty minutes out, Sarah ordered enough pizzas to feed everyone, including the agents outside. Tonight was about relaxing and preparing herself for the next steps in their plan, putting some "hurt" in the finances of Volkoff and Roark. Their plan was highly illegal, and if Chuck failed to hide their tracks, at a minimum, Sarah could be disbarred and potentially face multiple felony charges. More importantly, that outcome would deprive her of a future with the man who wanted to marry her. She cast aside her doubts and replayed his whispered words when he thought she was asleep. She let that thought settle her mind and her mood, and she focused on their future together as the anchor that would keep her safely moored in the storm that was going to be raging around her.
-O-
Date: Monday, 3 January, 2023
Time: 08:00 EST
Location: One South Street, Baltimore, Maryland – Alex Brown Building
Maureen Collins opened the office and, as she usually did on a Monday, took a quick walk around the space to make sure the offices had been cleaned on Friday, then made her way to the coffee room to prepare the industrial-sized coffee maker for when the rest of the staff started to arrive. As usual, the office was immaculate, but it struck her that it smelled better than usual, somehow fresher. Having prepared the coffee machines, she returned to her desk in the reception area. At precisely eight-fifteen, Sidney Price arrived, making her way to her office. She sat at her desk and started working on the matters of the day. At roughly nine-fifteen, Howard Cheatham arrived.
"Good morning, Maureen. Happy New Year. Everything okay?" He spoke kindly but without a smile on his face.
"Good morning, Sir. Happy New Year to you as well, and yes, everything is perfect. I'll have your coffee in just a moment."
Cheatham mumbled something that sounded like a thank you and disappeared down the hall to unlock his office and settle into the first business day of what would hopefully be another very profitable year for the shady law firm. A few minutes later, Maureen Collins placed the lacquered tray holding the coffee service on the credenza outside of Cheatham's office to open the door when a bright reflection from the planter next to the door caught her attention. She moved toward the planter, finding a four-inch shard of glass. She looked at the glass panels that formed a wall to Cheatham's office and saw all were completely intact. 'Wonder how this got here?' she thought, picking up the shard and placing it in a wastebasket before proceeding to Cheatham's office with his morning coffee.
-O-
Date: Monday, 3 January, 2023
Time: 10:00 EST
Location: 9 West 57th Street, New York City Offices of Dunmore, Bradley, and Caine
Sarah had arrived very early and followed Chuck's instructions on working without leaving a trace. She had been carefully typing detailed instructions to be sent to Chuck. The work was being stored on a removable flash drive, so nothing would appear on the servers of her law firm. In her hyper-focus, she didn't notice Douglass Bradley, the firm's managing partner, standing in her doorway.
"Happy New Year, Sarah. I'm so glad to have you back. You gave us quite a scare." Douglass Bradley smiled warmly. "After all you've been through….you are a remarkable woman, Sarah. Strong and incredibly resilient."
"Oh…. Thank you, Doug. I really appreciate the kind words. And happy New Year to you as well." Sarah stood, rounded the desk to make sure her monitor wasn't visible, and reached out to shake his hand.
"You should know I took a twenty off Edward Caine, Esquire and Senior Partner." Douglass grinned. "He bet me that you wouldn't show up for work today. Well….that's what he gets for underestimating Sarah Walker!"
Sarah blushed, which Douglass assumed was due to the compliment, but in reality, it was because he had no idea how close he had come to losing that bet.
Douglass winked. "Come with me, Sarah." Sarah quickly put her monitor in sleep mode before following the Managing Partner down the hall to the entrance of the main conference room. Douglass opened the door for Sarah and then stepped back. "After you, Sarah."
As Sarah entered, applause broke out. The room was filled with the firm's partners and associates, and there was a large cake with the words "Welcome Back Sarah" neatly written in script and various refreshments. The sight was overwhelming.
"Sarah, on behalf of every member of our Dunmore, Bradley, and Caine family, we are thankful that you are safe, healthy, and back in the fold. Welcome home, Sarah!" As Douglas finished speaking, another rousing round of applause spiked as her colleagues approached to shake her hand or give her a hug. A few weeks ago, this kind of recognition would have put a grin on her face and a sparkle in her eye, but this morning, all she felt was a knot in her stomach. She loved these people and this firm. Being a part of it and making Partner had been her north star since before she even received the offer of employment. But now, her carefully structured and prioritized world was turned upside down because of a tall, dark-haired man who risked everything for her. She smiled uncomfortably as she thanked her colleagues for their warmth and generosity.
Sarah Walker was never one to be overly sentimental or warm professionally, so no one saw her muted reaction as anything other than Sarah Walker being, well, Sarah Walker.
Once the brief surprise celebration was over, Sarah returned to her office and continued her work. She had mentioned to Douglass that she would need a couple of days to get back up to speed, which she did while siphoning off time to prepare the material Chuck would need to put their plan in place. That evening, before heading out of the office with her detail, Sarah dropped the flash drive in a FedEx pouch for overnight delivery to a cottage in rural Pennsylvania.
-O-
Date: Monday, 3 January, 2023
Time: 19:30 EST
Location: Number One Observatory Circle, Washington, D.C. - Vice Presidential Residence
Seth Simpson was once again dining with Roark at the Vice President's residence, and amongst other topics to discuss was Roark's schedule for the coming week. As Simpson prattled on about protocol and other things, Roark reached out and asked for the calendar of events for the week. He quickly scanned his schedule and flipped the pages to see the schedules for the rest of the President's cabinet, finally landing on the President's schedule and smiling.
"Seth, do you know what this is about?" Roark looked at Simpson as he pointed to a specific entry on President Walker's calendar that was blocked off as a family meeting but provided no detail regarding the where, only the when.
"That? Well, it's a private family event. That's why the details are redacted." Simpson looked at the entry again. "I understand that Ms. Walker remains rather distraught at the loss of Special Agent Bartowski, so they are having a very private visit to the cemetery….terribly sad, but perhaps she's looking to get closure."
"Thank you, Seth." Roark feigned concern as he shook his head. "With everything that poor family has been through, I want to be sure I can be close to them if they need me." Roark then paused pensively. "Was there anything else we need to cover, Seth? I have some reading to do before we head to Ottawa for the trade summit with the Mexicans and Canadians in two weeks."
"No, Sir. Have a good evening." Seth Simpson excused himself as Roark pulled out his burner and dialed.
"Yes," was the curt reply.
"Saturday, 11:00 am at the Congressional Cemetery. All three will be there." Roark hung up, looked at the phone for a moment, then pulled out the SIM card, snapped it in half, and pulled out the battery before dropping everything in the trash.
-O-
"Got it!" The NSA tech exclaimed. As part of the President's secret investigation, General Beckman had stood up a small team of tech analysts to monitor the numerous phone numbers their systems were tracking. As soon as a call was captured, it was electronically transcribed and forwarded to General Beckman under an "Eyes Only" security categorization. The tech tapped the keys to transcribe the message, read it twice to ensure the transcription was accurate, and then forwarded the file to a secure internal server accessible only by the General. A few minutes later, Casey's phone rang.
"Casey."
"Beckman. The mouse took the cheese. The call was clocked less than ten minutes ago. Do you need anything from me?"
"Thank you, General, but I've got it covered."
-O-
Date: Tuesday, 4 January, 2023
Time: 10:00 EST
Location: Washington D.C. - White House, Situation Room – Security Council Briefing
"Please be seated," President Walker announced as he walked into the room for his weekly Security Council update. Jack Walker moved to his seat at the head of the table and looked around the room. Next to him on his right was Vice President Roark, and immediately to his left was DNI Beckman; the rest of the chairs were occupied by the President's senior Security Council advisors, and standing against the three walls were numerous aides, analysts, etc. The meeting was uneventful, as the various geopolitical risks were outlined and commented on. The meeting was approaching its conclusion when Rear Admiral Hawkes spoke.
"Sir, there's one final thing that came across my desk just before the meeting that could not be added to the agenda in time." Admiral Hawkes looked over the communication brief he had been handed less than ten minutes before the start of the meeting.
"Go ahead, Admiral," the President invited.
"Well, Sir, as a key component of your Russian sanctions program, we have been seizing the assets of the people on the target list. We just received a communiqué that a rather large vessel owned by an Alexei Volkoff has been spotted in international waters, loitering just north of Gran Roque, an island about a hundred miles from Caracas, a Federal Dependency of Venezuela." Hawkes paused.
"What's the issue, Admiral?" Walker asked.
"Well, Sir. The vessel is in international waters, so we can interdict, but they are currently skirting Venezuelan territorial waters outside of Gran Roque. As you know, the Venezuelans claim their sovereignty extends well beyond the twelve nautical mile limits established by international law. Where the vessel stands now, we are on solid legal footing, but the Venezuelans will cry foul anyway, and if the vessel runs and makes it within the 12 nautical mile limit, pursuing them inside that territorial limit would be a hostile act."
"When will you have assets in position to take action?" President Walker asked.
"Sir, I've taken the liberty of immediately ordering the Lassen, one of our Arleigh Burke-class guided-missile destroyers, to close to within a hundred miles and await further instructions. They should be in position by Thursday, and once the order is given, they can execute the seizure within five hours.
President Walker thought about it for a moment. "Admiral, brief the Attorney General and have him issue his opinion in writing. Assuming he agrees with the legality of the action, seizure of the vessel in international waters is authorized. I want extra care taken with respect to the personnel on board, and I want the entire engagement fully recorded. If the Venezuelans throw a fit, I want to be able to show a movie at the U.N."
"Yes, Sir. Understood."
As the meeting disbanded, Roark remained sitting for a moment, considering if it might be possible to grab Volkoff alive before the U.S. Navy got hold of him and his yacht. He had an idea. If he could warn Volkoff to stay in Venezuelan territorial waters, the U.S. Navy couldn't get to him, but Hugo Panzer could. The first priority was Walker, but after that, getting Volkoff alive would not only allow him to secure any damaging evidence Volkoff might have but also allow him to take over Volkoff's share of Vostock Oil & Gas. He kept his expression as neutral as possible as he considered how best to take advantage of the information that had just landed in his lap. He never noticed General Diane Beckman observing his every expression.
-O-
John Casey was working on his computer when there was a crisp knock on his door. "Enter," Casey commanded.
The door opened to reveal the diminutive, red-haired Diane Beckman. "Good morning, John."
"General." Casey welcomed her into his office, standing in deference to the office occupied by the diminutive redhead. Motioning with his hand to a chair and offering her a coffee. "Did he bite?"
"He did. He'd never make it as a professional poker player." Beckman stirred some milk into her coffee. "I've put a couple of people in his residence, and last night, they found a burner with a broken SIM card and the battery extracted, so he'll be moving onto another phone. The good news is that we planted a few bugs in the residence, so if he calls from there, we should be able to pick it up."
Casey looked at the General thoughtfully. "General, isn't the residence swept daily for bugs?"
"Indeed it is, John. Who do you think does the sweep?" Beckman smiled. "John, I don't want to arrest this guy. He needs to be very discretely sanctioned. Something that really looks like an accident where we control the environment and subsequent investigation. We also need to deal with the law firm in Baltimore and the investment bank in New York." Beckman paused for a moment. "I've also put some additional monitoring on our friend Langston Graham. I don't think it's a coincidence that Roark's conversation with Panzer references someone at the CIA, while Graham seems to have been obstructing our investigation into Shaw. We need actionable evidence there, and if my gut is right, I think we will get it sooner than later."
"I agree. I'm thinking through how we can find a way to use the information we acquired in less transparent ways to punish others within the context of the law. Graham is still in a gray area for me, though I think you're right. I don't think anyone would miss him if he were to go." Casey scratched the stubble on his chin. "I have no time and no sympathy for those who seek positions of power in our government to enrich themselves at the expense of the people they should be serving."
"Too right, John. Too right." Beckman stood. "And thanks for the coffee. I have a feeling this whole thing will come to a head before the weekend is out." She shook his hand and left, closing the door to his office behind her.
As soon as Beckman was gone, Casey called Chuck on the burner.
"Your plan is in motion, Chuck. No turning back now. Volkoff's location was spilled at the Security Council meeting this morning, and according to Beckman, Roark almost wet himself when he heard it. How are preparations on your side coming?"
"Christ, Casey, Sarah has given me so much to do. I can't believe how fast she pulled all this together. I'm plowing through all the pieces she wants in place, and we should be good to go by Thursday night." Chuck was exhausted; Sarah had given him pages and pages of complex instructions about who to hack to set up fake corporate holding companies located offshore and fake corporate tax registrations so bank accounts and securities trading accounts could be established. In addition, he needed to figure out how to place buy and sell orders in the ledger of the various exchanges they needed to use. He'd hardly slept since the Sunday she left.
"Okay, good. You sure you don't want to tell me what you two are doing?" Casey asked, not expecting an answer.
"Honestly, Casey, I don't really even understand how half of this should work. I mean, Sarah is so much smarter than me. It's kind of scary….but no. You definitely don't want to know." Chuck laughed half-heartedly. "If this all goes well, both Volkoff and Roark will get theirs, and we can sit back and watch it happen."
The two men closed the call without Casey sharing that he and Beckman had tacitly agreed to sanction Roark and potentially Graham and were looking to incarcerate Volkoff for a long time. Of course, Casey had no idea that Chuck and Sarah intended to ruin both men financially.
-O-
Date: Tuesday, 4 January, 2023
Time: 16:30 EST
Location: Number One Observatory Circle, Washington, D.C. - Vice Presidential Residence
Roark finally returned to his study and attempted to call Volkoff on a new burner. Unfortunately, given where the "Untouchable" was cruising, the mobile didn't work. He pulled out a small electronic organizer and pulled up the number associated with Volkoff's satellite phone. He dialed the number.
"Kto eto?" (Who is this?) Volkoff growled into the receiver of his satellite phone.
"Alexei, it's me. Listen carefully-" Roark started to explain but was cut off.
"This line isn't secure, you-" Volkoff spat back before he was also interrupted.
"There's no time, Alexei!" Roark shouted. "Shut the fuck up and listen! Somehow, the U.S. Navy has spotted your yacht, and a destroyer is on its way to seize it. You need to get your fucking boat well within the territorial waters of Venezuela. They won't follow you there. Now go! They're on their way and will be there soon." Roark hung up the phone and immediately destroyed the new burner's SIM card, removed the battery, and threw everything away.
A few minutes later, one of the residence's staff came in to take out the trash and, after receiving permission, dumped the bin into a larger receptacle on wheels and left. Less than 45 minutes later, another phone and SIM card were in the hands of the NSA's special team, as was a transcript of Roark's side of the conversation picked up by the bug in his study.
-O-
Date: Tuesday, 4 January, 2023
Time: 17:30 EST
Location: 9 West 57th Street, New York City Offices of Dunmore, Bradley, and Caine
Sarah's eyes widened at the sound of the ringing phone. The burner. She wasn't sure why, but she never expected a call during office hours. She momentarily worried that something was wrong, then focused and grabbed the phone.
"Hold on." She said into the phone as she shut her office door and turned on the shelf stereo system in her office to a moderate volume.
"Chuck?"
"Hi, gorgeous. I miss you."
"Oh my God. I miss you too. Is everything okay?"
"Everything is fine. Beckman planted the location of Volkoff's yacht during a Security Council meeting, and Roark bought it, so now everything is in motion."
"Okay. So, light at the end of the tunnel?" Sarah asked.
"I think so." Chuck mused, quickly considering all the moving parts he had to coordinate.
"Then everything is ready?" Sarah asked, nervousness slipping into her voice.
"Almost. I've followed your instructions to a "T," but there was much to do. I'm almost done. What do we need to do next?"
"Okay, Chuck." Sarah shook off her nervousness. The next page in her life was just in front of her. She needed to focus and make sure she helped walk Chuck through every step of the process so there were no technical mistakes. "Here's what you need to do…."