Chuck vs The Wayward Legionnaire

Chapter 6: Training shoes and Premier blues.

April 9th, 2009, Off the African Coast. 10.00am.

He pushed himself harder, the 25-kilo rucksack he had on his back was making it hard though, he was cutting it close but as he ran up the ship stairs from the cargo hold of the Colibri towards the open stern, he smiled. He was going to do it! It was his final lap of the morning and his best time yet. He ran to the railings just in time to take a mist of saltwater thrown up by the propellors across his face.

It was a welcome respite from the African sun that burned hot that morning, he licked his split lip free of the salt, his almost healed black eye twinged from the irritation too. He let his rucksack down gently, Denis might be watching, and he wasn't in the mood for extra push ups that morning, last evenings training with Marcin Rutkowski and Pascal Caron, had been more intense than usual and his ribs were still sore from a well-placed round kick from Pascal. The men were former Legion comrades of Denis that he had employed for extra security from Somali pirates and the like, they were trusted friends.

Denis had promised to get things started and he had been a man of his word. It had felt like Chuck had only put his head down after his travels that first day when Denis had burst through his cabin door, screaming "REVEILLE! REVEILLE!".

Chuck had sprung out the bunk like his head was on fire, Denis threw some training clothes and runners at him and chased him down to the cargo hold like the Gunnery sergeant in Full Metal Jacket!

There then followed "Instruction" as Denis called it, for the next hour and a half Chuck ran, sprinted, performed push ups and more hideously, pull ups on a specially constructed obstacle course that reduced him to sweaty mess on the deck floor.

After that, Denis produced an automatic rifle he called a Famas, this he explained was the preferred weapon of a legionnaire and he spent the next hour having Chuck break it down and reassemble whilst naming the parts in French with Chuck repeating them back until he got them right. There was then some shooting practise with the Famas as Denis lowered some floatation devices on a long line that he ran from the stern of the Colibri. Mistakes were punished with more push ups, and it was a very tired and sore Chuck that dragged himself into the ship's mess.

The menu was limited for Chuck, Denis explained, "There is three square meals a day in the Legion, mon ami, best for you to get used to that, don't worry, it will be enough to sustain you, but it will be basic fare, no cheeseburgers or pizza!" He laughed as he said the last part, Chuck groaned.

As it was the first day and they had started late, Denis let Chuck have a longer break than normal, but it was more instruction for another hour before he let Chuck return to his cabin to clean up.

He had barely gotten out of the shower when Denis again barged in and after ransacking the room, then showed Chuck how to organise his belongings and kit. Again and again, Chuck made his bunk until Denis was satisfied, he had it to a standard he approved of.

He sat down at Chuck's desk and produced two books, Chuck looked the titles, "Glossaire Militaire De Langue Anglais" (Military Glossary in English Language) and "Lexique Militaire Francaise/Anglais" (A Military Lexicon in French/English). Chuck was all attention. This was something the nerd in him could appreciate.

"Chuck, as of from tomorrow, I will be treating you like a recruit, everything we do will be in French, just like I would any other recruit I ever taught. Total Immersion Chuck, it will be hard, but the aim after basic training is for a recruit to have at least five hundred words in their vocabulary. Most of these will of course be military commands, which is why you have a tremendous advantage by having those two books. They have been handed down to favoured recruits in the Legion for years, Sean was the last to have them, luckily for you!"

Chuck had been leafing through the two books, he looked up at Denis, "Is that possible, Denis, I mean, I have no French at all, I only ever studied basic Spanish in High school."

Denis smiled, "Do you know that the Legion during its existence has had 147 different nationalities pass through its ranks?" That was a surprise to Chuck, and it showed on his face. "So don't worry, we got them through this, you will do fine", Denis promised. They spent the next hour working on some basic French until Denis decided a breather from the books was needed. He had something special in mind for the evening session.

He was about to rise from his seat when his eye happened to land on the pictures of Chuck and Sarah, he whistled softly in appreciation, "This was her Chuck?", he asked, "Sarah, your CIA handler?". Chuck nodded. Denis looked thoughtful. "You know, this could be useful, some will question your decision to join the Legion, up to now I had a problem with trying to decide the best approach for you to take that would satisfy a recruiting officer of the B2." Chuck looked puzzled at that. "Deuxieme Bureau, B2 they are the Gestapo, they do the clearance checks and will spend some time making sure you are what you seem to be."

He thought a bit more and smiled, "Yes Chuck, this works very well, it's the oldest story in the book, your great love has left you and you are seeking solace in the Legion Étranger hoping to forget her!" Fat chance of that thought Chuck, Sarah Walker would never leave his heart. "Come, change quickly. Instruction Chuck!"

Chuck groaned but changed into a fresh track suit, Denis told him to do a quick lap of the course and go to the stern. Twenty minutes later he popped up on the deck to find Denis with Marcin and Pascal changing into some training clothes and putting on some strange looking foot covers Denis called Chausson, that was the French for slipper, he quickly learnt. He gave Chuck a pair and a pair of boxing gloves, he had a portable kettle of hot water and he threw something in it, after a few seconds he took it out and asked Chuck to put it in his mouth, it was a mouthguard and it quickly formed to his upper jaw, "Unfortunately there was no time to get a proper one made by a dentist, but this should be adequate to your needs."

Denis then explained further," We're going to instruct you in the art of Boxe Francaise, commonly known as Savate that originated with French sailors centuries ago, it is a form of kick boxing that is quite popular, watch, Pascal is a regional champion back home in France and Marcin and myself with Sean studied with him, you will enjoy this!" He slapped Chuck on the shoulder, grinning broadly.

Chuck then watched in amazement as the two crewmen sparred, Pascal was a mid-sized man, a bit taller than Morgan but he moved like Sarah, very fast, Marcin was taller and blockier, more like Denis, they were both just a bit shorter than Chuck, but they both hit harder, relying on their superior upper body strength and reach, but Pascal was not easily hit, he danced in and out of range scoring more often than not.

After watching for a few minutes, they invited Chuck to join them, he was shown the basic movements and for the first hour he practised them with Pascal or Marcin on hand pads and kicking shields. His form was a little off, but he quickly warmed to the movements, they weren't too complicated. Denis watching from the side-lines approved, it was an easy system that wasn't as complicated as some martial arts that took years to master, even the basics, they had a limited time to teach Chuck. Denis had stretched out the voyage back to France by taking a commission in Africa for Oisin, it was a nothing job, but it gave them more time to prepare Chuck.

After the first hour, Pascal led Chuck through his first sparring session, showing him how to use his longer reach to his best advantage, and how to quickly cover against faster, better opponents, Chuck absorbed it all, Marcin and Denis swapped in to give Chuck a chance to see different opponents and how they would use a different strategy to land a blow or defend themselves against his attacks. He began to see that that his views of fighting from watching martial art movies were a lot different from the real thing, even if this was just training!

For the first week of his voyage the days were an early rise courtesy of Denis or if he was busy, Marcin, who he was surprised to learn had been a Caporal. He quickly learned that a Caporal was the equivalent of a sergeant in most other armies, the Legion had its own way about things. The pattern of the day usually followed the first day, instruction, weapons training with the Famas, more instruction followed by French lessons in more detail, as Denis had outlined, it was all through French, there was a lot of punishment exercises or on other occasions for failing a cabin inspection or improper weapon cleaning or personal cleanliness, there was what was referred to as corvee(kor-vay).

Marcin, who had an excellent command of English, explained when Chuck's French failed, that this was either general cleaning duties or a punishment detail, he warned Chuck not to take it personally, rather treat it as a time of relaxation, do it well, he advised, and you won't have to repeat it. Chuck realised it was just like the housekeeping duties he and Morgan did in the Buy More, he had done them for years, it was nothing to worry about, though he quickly learned from his mistakes and the others were pleased to note this.

Every day ended with a Savate session with the others on the deck of the ship's stern and he enjoyed them, they had been ramping up, first one on one and then two and three on one, he was in the middle of a spar with Marcin when he felt rather than saw a change in the atmosphere with the other men, their mood changed, and the air became charged like a sky before a storm.

He had just blocked a low kick to his leg when a firework when off in his lower back, he looked behind to see Denis with a harsh look on his face, his first thought was that he might have missed a change of partner call, a high round to the side of his head from Pascal quickly changed his mind about that! He reeled back into a hook to his jaw from Marcin and he felt his lip burst against his mouthguard, he tasted blood.

He tried to back away but Pascal swept his legs out from underneath with a low sweep and he hit the deck heavily groaning, as he tried to raise himself up he took a hard boot to the stomach that lifted him into the path of a right jab, left cross combo from Denis than caused his nose to start bleeding too, he rolled on his side and covered up as a low kick again caught his face, this time near his left eye and he literally saw stars, he curled up and covering his head with his hands he lay helplessly as the other men pummelled him for a minute.

He had a moment when he saw their faces and the aggression displayed shocked him, as quickly as it started it finished, he was in a daze, he saw the harsh looks change on the men's faces, whatever had possessed them passed, but he was hurt and angry, when Denis reached down to help him up he threw his gloves in the man's face and walked quickly back to his cabin. He heard them call his name, but he paid no heed, he entered and shut and locked the door.

He slid down the wall and gently assessed his condition, he was confused. What the fuck was that all about? He felt betrayed. What had he done to deserve that? There was knock at the door, it was Denis, Chuck ignored it. After a few moments Denis gave up.

Chuck stripped out of clothes and went into his small bathroom, the sight that greeted him from the sink mirror was not a happy one, His nosebleed had stopped but his eye was going to blacken, it wasn't his first, but it was probably going to be a beauty. His split lip stung, He cleaned up as best he could, his body wasn't too bad, his ribs were sore a bit too. He braced himself and went into the shower. It made things a little better.

It took a bit of effort, but he put on some clean clothes, sitting down on his bunk he wondered what to do. Had he been compromised somehow, could he abandon the ship, no, that was stupid thinking, he had no idea where he was exactly and no means of contacting anybody. Except for Sarah and Casey, he had no idea who would help him, he mulled over his position for a few hours until hunger overcame him, and he made his way to the mess.

The galley cooks had looked at his face curiously but said nothing, fights were not a usual thing on ships but when they happened people learned to give the two parties a wide berth. Chuck had just sat down when the other three men also entered. They stopped when they saw him, Denis said something to the other two and made his way over to Chuck.

Chuck watched him warily and his hands tightened on his knife and fork, Denis seeing that put his hands up. "Chuck, can I speak with you, I'm sorry…" Chuck exploded "SORRY? SORRY? What the fuck was that all about Denis, did you and others need a little nerd bashing at my expense?"

"No Chuck, that was a taste of life in the Legion, I know Oisin has you thinking that it's a grand adventure, but you need to understand, it is no, how do you say, walk in the park." He said firmly, he met Chuck's angry look with a stern one of his own.

"You are a good man Chuck, in your life you have not faced anything like what you are about to, you are an easy man to like, and people like to be your friend," He paused," but in the Legion that will get you in trouble or seriously hurt."

Pascal and Marcin joined them, they both had sheepish looks on their faces, they seemed almost embarrassed. Denis began again, "Chuck, I told you that there are over 147 different nationalities in the Legion, you need to realise that some of them will be former enemies of America and they will not be happy to see you. They harbour resentment from your country's treatment of them and there they will have an opportunity to take that out on you. YOU!" He emphasised.

Chuck hadn't thought about any of that, he was surprised to learn this. Marcin spoke up next. "I had a fight with some Russians in my early days after I joined, typical Polish/Russian stuff from the occupation era, your friend Oisin, he joined over thirty years ago Chuck, a completely different demographic joined up then, the cold war was still in effect and there was a greater number of westerners like British Commonwealth countries and Irish and North Americans signing up, some were ex-soldiers that the Legion hungerly accepted."

"I saw the last of that Chuck", said Denis, "Then the Wall fell and suddenly there was a lot of former Eastern Europeans looking for a steady job after the likes of Kosovo and a lot came to the Legion, some are former French colonies as well as countries currently involved in conflict, like the Middle East and you know your country's record there." Chuck blanched, he was very aware, his first experience with some of that was the Stanfield bomb. Denis continued, "The Legion has become very particular about who they accept, having said that Chuck, some who do make it are very driven, very violent men."

"Criminals?" asked Chuck worriedly. "Non, mon ami, well..., maybe a little" said Denis, "The security checks will find out if anyone joining has any records, small things can be forgiven, the usual juvenile nonsense some young men engage in, but any serious crimes, non. That old nonsense of murderers or serious offenders allowed in?", he shrugged, "How could you trust such men in combat to have your back?"

"All of us here, had our run ins with other recruits during basic, it is very competitive Chuck, and the various ethnic groups quickly form their 'Mafia', their group, in the old days it was usually the Mafia Anglaise, various English-speaking nationalities would come together and help each other out, mostly ex-soldiers who grew tired of civilian life and were seeking adventure or the comradery of the military life that they missed."

He grinned, "They were a handful, the French officers thought they were all mad and they did little to dispel that opinion with their antics, but in action they were lethal and so their eccentric ways were tolerated, the new Mafias though… Well, it's generally the Mafia Russe, Russian Mafia and they tend to cause the most problems, fight one, you fight them all."

Chuck was surprised to see Marcin spit, as if he had tasted something disgusting. "They're a bad sort, Chuck, the Anglaise or English-speaking groups were fair to deal with, it could also include anyone that could speak decent English, Germans, Scandinavians. If you had a row, it was a fair fight, one on one if your friends couldn't sort it out beforehand, but the Russians are dangerous Chuck, their former satellite countries too. They fight as a group, so beware of who you cross!"

Denis pointed to Chuck's face, "Sorry Chuck, but Sean thought it would be best if you had an experience, something to prepare for the reality you may face. When it happens, it will be like this, only worse." The others nodded. Chuck's shame and anger had fallen away as Denis explained.

He had been romanticising the situation, he had thought what the hell, he'd had five years already taken from him in the Buy More, but that wasn't the Legion. He had been thinking of it all wrong. He had a lot of growing up to do, he had lived a sheltered life and Sarah and Casey had kept a lot away from him, it was time to learn to stand on his own two legs, he realised that the three men had taught him a valuable if painful lesson. Denis was right, this was going to be no walk in the park. He stood up abruptly startling the others.

"Well, we better get back to it. I don't think I earned this food yet! See you lot at the stern." He asked the cook to keep his supper warm and made for the mess hall door. The others sat surprised, Denis smiled to himself, he had worried about the younger man, Chuck was exactly as he said, a good, decent man. He was well liked by Denis and his crew.

Now, Denis saw the resolve in Chuck's face, some might have given up after what he and the others had done, their spirits crushed by the first taste of adversity, it appeared Chuck was not one of those who faltered, there was some steel in his soul, good, thought Denis, he's going to need it. "Come on", He motioned to the other men, and they followed Chuck outside.

The next two weeks went by at a furious pace, Chuck asked for no quarter, and none was given, that night had brought home to him the seriousness of his situation in a way the previous two years had not. He counted himself lucky that he had found himself in good hands, the lessons continued, each building on the next.

Denis had managed to get some uniforms, parade dress and working dress, they demonstrated the way they were to be worn, the cleaning, he polished boots until he could see his face in them. The instruction became more intense, they concentrated on the three exercises that Denis knew would feature heavily in the Selection phase, pull-ups, and an 8-minute shuttle run, only Pascal did this with him, forcing him to a faster time each time and through the levels until he at last hit level 5 and lasted the full eight minutes. Both of them, panting, sweating, grinned like madmen at each other, when he did.

And rope climbing, his hands were burned raw by the friction of a rope as he scaled the makeshift obstacle the men had hobbled together for him. He could disassemble and reassemble the Famas blindfolded, but Denis cautioned him to hold to a time, "Best not be the fastest Chuck unless you need to be."

Ultimately, that was their chief concern, the intake at any of the Induction centres was impossible to predict. There could be a lot of well-prepared candidates for the coveted status of a Legion recruit, only time would tell.

They grew steadily closer to France, stopping only at the former French African colony of The Ivory Coast or Cote D'Ivoire for a collection for Oisin. Chuck stayed on the ship out of sight while the crew got a brief shore leave. He was able to get in contact with Oisin and Akio though, he was anxious about news on Ellie and the rest in Burbank. Oisin was always glad to reassure him with news from Mike.

He had been outraged by Chuck's face until Chuck explained. "I'm sorry lad, I guess things have indeed changed from my time, back then the last thing you wanted was the attention of the NCO's or that meant more corvee!". He also had some news from Akio. "It's not pleasant Chuck, I don't know if you were aware of this, it happened about the time your former "bosses" tried to bring the new Intersect online."

Chuck was puzzled, "What do you mean Oisin?" The older man's face grew pained, "It's probably best you see for yourself, for the record I don't think Agent Walker was a part of it, but Agent Casey certainly was, it was Beckman's orders, he didn't totally agree with it, but…", He hesitated, "…Look, we haven't shown the others yet, I wanted to show you."

A video clip had popped up in the feed, Chuck was already starting to feel uneasy, Oisin's distaste at what he had seen had clearly unsettled the man, he took a second and then hit play. He watched in horror as Casey appeared in his apartment and drew a bead on him. He hit stop. A wave of nausea swept over him.

"Holy Fuck!" He swallowed hard. Oisin Murphy sitting in his office in Dublin wished he could reach through the screen and tell the young man it was ok; he had been furious himself; even Akio had lost his legendary cool. He had muttered some Japanese epitaphs under his breath when he showed Oisin what he had found. The two had been very tempted to play merry hell with Agent Casey and his boss.

Chuck was shaken, he had come that close to death, delivered by a man he considered a friend, or at least a colleague. Now he wondered if any friendliness his country's intelligence services operatives had shown him had been real. He was spiralling and he knew it.

"You're sure that Sar-…Agent Walker wasn't in on it?" Oisin shook his head, "We have a feed of Beckman giving the order, it's messed up I know, but at least I can confirm that part, though we're assuming Graham knew about it, hard to see how Beckman would have been able to issue such an order without his consent."

Chuck's mind was a whirl, Sarah was Graham's top agent, his enforcer, he'd seen some of her file. He remembered that night well, she'd come to his door telling him about the death of Graham and that he was still the Intersect, it didn't stop him from wondering though… He turned back to the screen, Oisin looked worried, this was lot to take in for anyone.

"I gotta sign off, Oisin, I need to think about this." Said a down cast Chuck. Oisin understood. "We'll keep digging away Chuck, sorry to be the bearer of news like that, but I felt you should know." Chuck acknowledged and cut the link. His dreams were restless that night, his former handlers were hunting him, he woke in a sweat at one point, the whisper of John Casey in his ear as he fired his weapon at Chuck's head.

He threw himself even harder into his training the following morning. Paying particular attention to the weapons and self-defence training, never, never again he swore. He'd be responsible for his own safety. He felt completely betrayed.

A week later, under warm evening sky, the Colibri entered the shipping lane for docking at Marseilles, a determined Chuck Bartowski stood on the bow of the ship as they drew closer to the harbour entrance, he could see the old fort that held vigil as they made their way to the Fos-Sur-Mer. There was a scurry as the ship drew near to the wall, the docking crew were first off, securing the ship with the heavy ropes, the dockers walked to their shunter units, waiting for the Colibri to open its cargo bay door.

The first unit on stopped briefly, hooked up a ULD and the two occupants disembarked, Chuck and Denis got in and drove off, they drove down the docks to a small loading area, here hauliers would take the ULDs on further to their end destination.

The two men jumped down and walked towards a container that was serving as a small coffee shop, Chuck kept his head down, he wore the clothes of a docker, and his duffel bag contained his few possessions. They were halfway there when a man appeared and hailed Denis in a familiar fashion. The big man turned to Chuck and his face broke into a big grin. "It's Sean!". He shouted back, "How are you, you Irish bastard!". Chuck smiled, despite the coarseness of the greeting there was much love in Denis's voice for the approaching man.

He was above average height, about six foot or six one, athletic build, a shock of black hair seemed to compliment his jade green eyes which seemed to be laughing as he took in Chuck and his appearance. He turned to Denis the two men shared a bearhug, before the other man turned to Chuck and stuck out his hand. It was a firm grip.

"So, you're the bloke that has me Dad all a flutter. Howya, Sean's the name." Chuck replied, "Yep, that's me, Chuck Bartowski, pleased to meet you."

Sean smiled, "How formal, relax mate, you're here, Dad and Roisin are waiting in a hotel up the road. See that red Peugeot piece of crap over there?" Chuck nodded. "Take a seat, just gonna catch up with Denis here, ok?" He threw a set of car keys at Chuck who caught them. He made his way over to the car. Looking back, he saw the two friends were watching him, then Sean said something, and Denis doubled over in laughter. Chuck got into the car. It was warm. He looked around at the port again, he was here! France.

Twenty minutes later he found himself jolted awake by Sean slipping into the car beside him. "Right, Let's get going before Dad has my ear chewed off, he's been dying to meet you!". Chuck gave a cautious look at Sean. The other man laughed merrily, "Oh Jaysus! We're gonna have some fun with you. Welcome to Europe!"

He started the car, and they headed out of the Harbour area, Chuck was watching for port authorities or police, Sean noticed. "It's ok mate, we avoided most of that by using the Colibri, passenger ferries have Customs and the Gendarmes crawling all over them. No worries."

They travelled back into Marseilles, heading down near the Old Harbour to the Mediterranean styled Phocaean City, there, on a quiet street he saw the entranceway to a small family run hotel, the Hotel Azur. Sean swung the car around into the backyard and parked in an open garage. They walked over to the hotel back entrance. There was a small freight elevator by the door, Chuck supposed it was for linen deliveries or the staff, he was familiar with many hotels after missions.

The lift creaked and groaned but finally with a loud ping they arrived on the top floor. They entered a small hallway that ended with a door, Sean led the way, there must have been someone watching for their arrival, the door swung open, the room was large, but Chuck was surprised by the woman who had opened the door. She was tall, Sarah tall, brunette with the same green eyes as her brother, she wore a smart business suit, it was expensive, and tailor fitted but she made it more so in how she carried herself, she was a person of substance, Chuck noted. She smiled at Sean, "Hello big brother!".

He grinned back, "Hello little sister, how's tricks?" She deadpanned, "Oh you know, running a multi-million-euro company while you're off playing soldier, come 'ere!" She pulled her brother into a big hug. She smiled at Chuck over Sean's shoulder, "Hello Chuck." It was a warm greeting from a person he'd never met before and there was more.

From the corner of the room came an equally warm "Hello lad!", For the first time since he had run, Chuck felt that he was in the right place. The man that had done so much for him, stood up slowly, bracing himself with a cane, he had looked a little frail on a monitor but the man before him vibrated with life. He embraced Chuck like a father would a son, "I'm glad you're finally here and safe lad, we've a lot to discuss." Chuck choked; it had been a long journey; his emotions were running high. He nodded. Roisin closed the door, and they sat down…

14th April 2009. Premier Executive Aviation. 9.15am.

Kate Jackson scowled, it was a Tuesday, still early in the week and she couldn't believe she was still dealing with this invoice from last month, same issue too, that rush job. She felt the frustrations of the past two days build up, it wasn't helped by the snotty Accounts Payable idiot, this Richard Ledermann who had TWICE now returned her unpaid invoice citing some nonsense about an incorrect reference number.

Normally she'd have chewed his head off by now, but this time she remembered it had been Jack who was given it. Had he made an error? She pondered for a moment, Jack Silverman was a great boss, but he was like a bear with a sore head on occasion and most of those centred around unpaid invoices!

What to do, what to do, she thought, she sipped her coffee, she eyed the office phone but was reluctant to poke the bear. Her eye fell on her rolodex, of course! She smiled, Mary Hopkins, the previous head of that section, they hadn't spoken in a while since Mary's promotion, but she was always a great help. She quickly found and rang the number.

"Hello, Mary Hopkins speaking, how may I help?" Kate was relieved. "Mary? It's Kate here over at Premier..." That was as far as she got. "Oh Kate! Great to hear from you, thanks so much for the lovely card and flowers, I was so busy I never had time to call you then! How's things at Premier?"

"You're welcome, Mary, so glad you enjoyed them, you fully deserved the promotion! I hate to bother you but things here at Premier could be better…"

Kate filled in her friend on the current situation. Mary tutted in exasperation, sometimes she wondered how the hell positions were backfilled with such incompetents, this wasn't her first former account to contact her. Ledermann was an idiot. But she was the sort to help smooth things over. She fired up her system, "Kate, give me that reference number."

Kate did, there was the sound of Mary humming as she checked the details, after a moment she said, "That's odd…" Kate's tummy did a flop, "…huh, there's another job against that reference Kate." She didn't elaborate and Kate didn't expect her to.

This was weird thought Mary Hopkins, a double booking. That was supposed to be impossible. She had an idea, "Kate, can you send me everything you have on this? I'll check it out here and get back to you when I can?"

Kate was a bit put out her friend couldn't immediately sort things out, but if there was one thing Kate knew and that was if Mary said she'd take care of it, she would.

Kate threw an email quickly together and sent it. That sorted the two women had a quick conversation on more routine matters, family and life, by the time they hung up, Kate was feeling a bit better about things. Mary Hopkins on the other hand, had no idea of the shitstorm she was about to raise!

CIA Special Activities Division, Langley. 11.30am.

DDO Kurt Wagner was sitting in his office contemplating an early finish to his day and the possibility of shooting 18 at his club when Bob Kenner one of his air support chiefs popped up in the doorway, "Boss, got a minute?"

Kurt was surprised, "Sure Bob, what's going on?" Bob walked over and sat down at Wagner's desk, he nodded at Wagner's phone as if asking permission. Wagner nodded. "Weird one here boss, figured you might want to hear, Goddard is on the phone with Mary Hopkins…."

Wagner's face looked puzzled, Goddard he knew, Hopkins was a mystery. Seeing the look on his boss's face, Kenner was quick to elaborate, "…accounts section, she's calling about a job nobody knows about, thing is, she has a good reference number, and the usual paperwork clearances, but nothing is checking out."

That had Wagner fully alert, Kenner hit the party switch on the phone and they both listened in. Hopkins was speaking, "… well I have an ID of the analyst that flew, Charles Martin, here let me show you…"

"Thanks ma'am", came from Dale Goddard, Wagner motioned to another phone on his desk, he made a ringing motion, Kenner got it and dialled Goddard's other desk number. "Goddard." Wagner took the receiver, he murmured quietly, "Dale, patch through the email to my desk, would you?" Goddard did. "Thanks Dale."

His screen spilt and he was watching Goddard's inbox, the email popped up, Goddard ignored Mary's ramblings and started to open the attachments, the orders looked legitimate, then he opened the analyst ID files, there was a gasp of shock from the two men.

With wide eyes, Wagner turned to Kenner, "Holy shit! Bob, get Hopkins and everyone else that even answered a phone to her about this in a SCIF ASAP, that includes Goddard and you!" Bob nodded in acknowledgement, "On it boss!", He scrambled to another phone.

On the party line Wagner could still hear Goddard talking to Hopkins, "Ma'am, I'm going to need you to report to your section head and wait in their office until somebody from the Division collects you, ok?" There was a pause from Mary's line, "Oh dear…"

Wagner cut the call, all thoughts of a golf game had fled his mind, he hit the speed dial to his boss, the call was answered, "Tom? You better get over here fast!".

14th April 2009. Premier Executive Aviation. 16.00pm.

Jack Silverman was sitting in his office doing one of his favourite things when not out flying, plane watching. He had an old set of binoculars out and was idly passing the time, he didn't just watch the skies, he also looked around into various hangers to see what was in them, sometimes it was his competitors, just to see what they were up to, he imagined they were probably doing the same to him. Spying was a hard habit to break.

He was doing just that when he noticed a 1991 Crown Vic pull into view by a hanger, a large man got out, he had a military bearing, moments later a sleek black Porsche slid into position beside the Vic, the driver got out, a tall blonde…Jack frowned, there was something familiar about her…. He sat up straighter in his chair.

She went and stood next to the man, then a group of five black SUVs pulled up beside them, a bunch of MIB types got out and walked up to the couple, there was a nod of recognition from the man to one of them, they positioned themselves behind the two.

As he watched a Lear jet that must have landed while his attention was on the small group rolled into view, he switched his gaze to the aircraft identification marking on the tail, he froze, it was a Company jet. The jet stopped and the door opened, dropping to a set of stairs, a man stepped onto them.

Jack's heart took a lurch, it was Tom Emerson, Director of the CIA. His head nearly split in two when the next passenger disembarked, he'd never met her, but he knew of her, General Beckman of the NSA.

What the actual fuck was going on he wondered? He didn't have long to guess, the two made their way to the small group, he began to get a bad feeling about things. As one, they turned and looked directly at his company, he groaned.

He picked up the phone, "Yes Jack?" came Kate's voice. "Break out the best China and stick on a fresh brew, Kate, we're about to have some guests." Kate Jackson was nonplussed, "I didn't know there was anybody scheduled for today, boss?" Jack sucked in a breath as the group moved to the parked SUVs, "Neither did I Kate, neither did I". He watched as they approached the hanger, two peeled off, one to cover the back and the other the Hanger doors, the rest pulled to a stop outside.

He walked across the hall from his office to the small conference room he used and sat down at the head of the large table, he didn't have long to wait. The door opened and Emerson and Beckman entered, followed by the large man and the Blonde. The two directors took seats facing him, at the wall behind them there was extra seating and the other two took a seat each there.

It didn't escape his notice that they both covered the door. There was a brief staring contest between the parties before Kate Jackson entered with Sandra, one of her office girls, both carrying a tray of cups and saucers Jack had bought in London, with a fresh pot of coffee.

Sandra left the room, but Jack motioned to Kate to come and sit down at his side of the table, safety in numbers he mused.

"Ok, I'll bite", said Jack, "To what do I owe the honour?" Emerson turned to the man, "Agent Casey." The man grunted and from a small briefcase that he'd taken from one of the other men he produced a folder, he stood up and placed it on the table, sliding it to Jack.

Jack stopped it and opened it, there was a 10x8 picture inside, he turned it, it was Charles Martin. The room became stuffy, he stood up and opened a window. He turned back to the table.

"Just how much trouble am I in here Tom?" he asked Emerson. It was the General who answered the question, "That rather depends on what exactly you can tell us about your dealings with that man, Mr Silverman. I have to warn you though", and here her voice hardened, "anything less than full disclosure and I can guarantee that you and your staff are going in a hole so deep you'll have forgotten what sunlight looks like if you ever emerge!"

Jack turned to Kate who'd turned as white as a sheet, "Kate", she slowly looked up at him, "get the paperwork on that job and can you get Bert and Kelly from the ready room and return please", she stood up to go, he turned again, "Better call the catering company too, tell them to send over the guy that delivered the food to that flight as well." She nodded.

The General raised her eyes at that, "He saw your boy too General." She gave a look of approval. Jack sat down again and waited. A few minutes later, there was a knock and Kelly entered with Bert and Kate, Kelly looked at her uncle, "Uncle Jack, what's going on?" she looked around the room, when she saw the blonde woman, her eyes widened in surprise. She looked away quickly, behind her the two agents exchanged a look, the blonde shrugged.

They all sat down, Bert looked around him, Kelly sat facing her uncle, her eyes moistened slightly, she looked down at the table, seeing Chuck's picture she gasped, "Is this about Chuck? Did something happen to him?" she asked in a shaky voice.

The large man groaned softly, there was a sharp look from the General, He snapped back alertly in his seat, "Agent Walker, perhaps you can take the young woman to the office there and see if she can help us?" The Blonde nodded and stood. Kelly looked at her uncle who now recognised the agent, Sarah Walker! He looked at his niece and indicated her to follow the agent, "Walker!", the agent turned to look at him, "She's family." Walker held his gaze for a moment but nodded.

The General turned to Casey, "Perhaps you can talk to Mr. Goodman in another room, Agent Casey" Bert looked at Jack. "Just answer his questions, Bert. It'll be fine." They left. Tom Emerson turned to Jack, "To answer your question Jack, you are in a world of shit, and honesty in this case, really is the best policy, so let's start at the beginning…."

In Jack's office the two women entered and sat down, Sarah chose to sit in an adjoining chair beside the other woman instead of behind Jack's desk. Sarah had read the files on the staff at Premier, she knew she had never met the other woman so her reaction to her in the conference room had puzzled her.

She voiced that thought, "Kelly, my name is Sarah Walker, you seemed to recognise me, I'm sure we never met though, can you explain that?" Kelly had been looking out the window, but she looked now at Walker, "I saw your pictures together…" Sarah's heart jumped, "pictures?" she asked. Kelly nodded, "He had a set, you know the booth sort, you looked happy together…"

Sarah Walker remembered, a cover date, well it was a date for her, she had pushed Chuck into a booth and there had allowed herself to share some close contact with him, it had been heavenly.

He had looked at her so lovingly that day, but she frowned, she had those pictures though, she had kept them in her purse, he had asked for a set but as soon as she seen them, she knew questions would be asked, her face betrayed her, her feelings in the booth had been laid bare for the camera to capture. She refused laughingly and dragged him on to another attraction. Still…

… he had looked disappointed, he had stopped outside the booth, he had been looking at the vendor sign, she remembered asking him why, he shook his head and he had smiled an enigmatic smile, she groaned, the nerd must have accessed the photo booth memory and given himself a copy! Her heart warmed though. Some of her hurt dropped away, he had something of them.

Kelly's next words cut her to the quick, "He said you broke up; you chose your career over him…" Kelly stopped, she could see the other woman's eyes shift as she tried desperately not to show her pain from that. Kelly sighed; her own little Chuck shaped dream shattering, it had been too good to be true. "You love him." It was not a question.

"It's complicated", replied Walker. Kelly looked at her as if she was crazy. "Complicated?" she asked incredulously. Sarah nodded, she needed to get this back on track, "Kelly, tell me that happened from the moment you met Charles Martin, Chuck, leave nothing out, it's vital you tell us the truth. He's very valuable to the Government and he may be in danger if we can't get to him first."

A while later, Casey entered the room, Bert Goodman hadn't a lot to say, there had only been a brief conversation between the two men when he had left the cockpit during the flight. Nerd stuff to Casey's disgust. Bert's opinion of Bartowski was a familiar one, good guy. The nerd had kept cool, disclosed nothing and the mundane conversation was all Bert could relate to Casey.

Casey told him to wait in the reception, there would be a decision made as soon as the others were spoken to. He made his way to Silverman's office, he too had been puzzled at the look Kelly Silverman gave Walker, lady feelings, he mused, it hadn't escaped his notice that Kelly was a brunette, stunning too. Walker must be having kittens, he grinned.

He was surprised as he walked into the office though, the girl was talking, and the atmosphere was calm. "…he fixed the oven, he was nice, he didn't try and use a pickup line like some other jer- er, agents, I mean, or stare at my body, he was very respectful." Kelly looked slightly embarrassed. Walker gave her a smile; she knew exactly what Kelly meant.

"Did you talk about anything Kelly, what he was doing, did he talk about work?" Kelly shook her head. "I didn't ask, Jack said after he disappeared that…" Casey interrupted, "Disappeared? What do you mean?". Kelly jumped; she hadn't noticed him enter.

Walker flashed a look at him, but he gave her one back, he waited. "Yeah, when we landed, I went to say goodbye, but he had gone. Jack said that was usual and that he had heard that Chuck's mission was time sensitive, but that's all I know." She looked a little sad at that.

Casey rolled his eyes, looks like the good stuff was probably going to be answered in the conference room by the brass. Kelly suddenly remembered something, "He did leave his suit behind." Sarah Walker's pulse jumped again at that news. "I can get it if you want, he did leave a note saying it would be collected, I just held onto it in case he came for it… himself…" She trailed off.

Casey shook his head, did every woman that came in contact with the moron want to mix his peanut butter in their chocolate? "We better take that," Casey said, he called to a MIB suit to bring in an evidence bag, they walked down to the ready room, there were a few lockers, Kelly walked to one and inside hung the suit in its bag.

Sarah saw the note attached; she took it. She nodded at Casey; it was his handwriting. She put on a pair of evidence gloves and opened the suit bag. She quickly examined the pockets, nothing.

Ignoring the looks of the others she put the suit to her face and inhaled the odour, she was disappointed, there was a residue of a shower gel but not one Chuck usually used. She folded the suit and placed into the evidence bag. Casey gave it to the MIB clone and told him to get it to the lab at the local office for analysis.

Sarah directed Kelly to sit down with Bert Goodman. She and Casey returned to the conference room, Kate Jackson was going over things for the tenth time, Beckman was interjecting with a stern voice until Jack Silverman had enough! "That's it! Kate head back to the Ready room…" Beckman glared at him, "I haven't finished Mr Silverman…" she began. Jack slammed his fist on the table, "This isn't OUR fuck up General, right? You lost your boy and him and his pals played us for patsies, we did our jobs, followed the procedures, did our checks. FUCK! I even phoned the Division!"

"Hell! you wouldn't have even known about it if THEY hadn't of made a mistake, some fine detective work you did there General…" His voice trailed off. Emerson looked at Beckman, nothing Jack had said was wrong. They had been compromised, their systems taken from them, it was embarrassing for them all, this was going to force a review of procedures and vendor communication systems going forward. This blame game was getting them nowhere.

Emerson had let Beckman play bad cop long enough, he decided it was time to smooth things out. He turned to Walker and Casey. "Report".

Casey took the lead, "Nothing Director, Goodman barely spoke to the ...ah analyst..." At the far end of the table Jack's ears perked up, so the kid hadn't been an analyst, he hadn't been an agent either, he groaned, that really only left one thing, an ASSET.

Walker spoke up next, she was smoother in her delivery, "Kelly Silverman spoke at length with Analyst Martin, she regarded him as nice, they exchanged details, but she learned very little about his plans, he kept to himself for most of the flight." Beckman was curious. "Details, Agent Walker?" Sarah looked pained but answered, "Yes Ma'am, they exchanged, ah…personal details."

Diane Beckman couldn't believe what she was hearing, the nerd had pulled some type of James Bond manoeuvre on the premiere intelligence agencies in the world and then had time to socialise with some damn ex trolley dolly!

She felt Emerson's hand on her wrist, she stood up and walked to a window, it was getting dark. Emerson looked at Silverman, "Jack, I'm going to have to insist that you take Agent's Walker and Casey to Cayenne…" Diane Beckman turned from the window, "I'm going too Tom." Her tone left no room for discussion.

Jack looked surprised, "Now?", he asked. "Do you have something else to do Jack? Do you want to keep your business? Right now, the best thing you can do is give me reasons to keep the Review Board from shutting you down and turning all this," Emerson waved his arm at the room, "into a memory".

Jack reached for the phone, Emerson shook his head, "Agents Walker and Casey are rated on your jet, if you need a co-pilot, they'll oblige." Walker and Casey nodded in unison. Jack really had no choice but to comply, "If you'll follow me…" They did. A thought struck him, "My people…?"

"They can go home for now, we may want to talk further, now is not the time for any trips out of town." Jack got the message. "They'll need to sign some NDA's, FBI SAIC Wilson is on his way over, he's bringing some serious paperwork, tell your people they need to pay attention and follow his instructions, the consequences of NOT doing that are going to be pretty fucking draconian..." Emerson let that hang there.

Jack knew a reprieve when he saw one, he popped into the Ready room and had a quick conversation with his staff, he asked Bert to do the outside checks on the apron prior to take off. Kelly looked at her uncle, "Was Chuck a bad one, Jack?" Jack had no answer to that, the kid hadn't set off anything in his gut, heck, even Bert liked him. Caseys near slip was still in his thoughts, but what kind of an asset was Chuck Martin? This level of heat was insane!

"I don't know Kelly. If he was, he fooled all of us and that worries me, because reading people is what I used to do, and every fibre of my being is telling me, Chuck is a good man, there's a lot they aren't telling us." He frowned, "Take care, read the legal stuff carefully, have Kate check it first. She's good with that, see you when I get back." She smiled weakly and gave him a hug.

Twenty minutes later he looked across at Sarah Walker as they coasted down the runway. She was more than competent to fly the plane; he had a feeling that snotty puke Beckman could probably fly too. He got his clearance from the Tower, and they shot up into the sky.

Nine hours later they touched down in Cayenne, Walker had been a Sphinx which suited Jack fine. She had pushed the hell out of the plane when she took over when he needed a break, and she was out of the cockpit leaving him to do the safety checks as soon as they landed.

Casey rolled his eyes as Walker pushed by to get the door open but kept his attention on taking Silverman through what happened after Chuck got there, Beckman joined Walker on the runway outside, she'd seen the despair in the younger woman's face when they got outside the plane. She watched her carefully, judging.

Tom had had the local liaison turn up, they had been working on any newcomers to the area, but there was nobody that matched Bartowski's description. The airport security turned up, that was a bust too, all electronic surveillance had been down for over an hour on the night in question. Beckman wasn't surprised, whoever 'they' were they hadn't missed much.

Casey watched as Walker went from office to warehouse, it was a waste of time, deep down she must know that he thought, kid was like a ghost, if he had been here, it was just another waystation on his journey, couldn't she see that?

The answer was yes, but Sarah Walker was withering on a branch called hope and she had just come to the end of it. The airport cop that accompanied her as she walked through the area was puzzled too, here was a woman looking for her other half, she thought, she had witnessed many such scenes at the Arrivals gate, the anxiousness, the hope and finally the joy of that wait finally ending and the loved one there. Today, there was only disappointment for the blonde woman.

Casey and Silverman returned to the plane; he had gone through the refuelling stage exactly as he had that night. "…Kelly was in the cabin, she'd come back to say goodbye to Martin, but he was already gone, hell, we didn't even discover his suit until I went to use the …." The rest Casey had already heard. Beckman returned to her seat.

He went to the door, Walker cut a despondent figure, her hands were rubbing her temples as if she had a headache, in a way Casey thought, she had. "Come on Walker, he's long gone!" There was a glare from Sarah as she spun towards him, then her face softened as she looked one more time around the airport. She boarded and this time walked to the back of the jet and sat in a seat.

Casey did the prefights with Silverman, as soon as they were airborne, he went to the galley, it wasn't hard to figure out the arrangements and he made coffee, filling a few mugs he gave one to the General, Silverman could get his own, he thought.

He looked down the cabin, Walker was slumped in her seat, eyes looking out the window but seeing nothing. Her hand was at her mouth, holding a stiff upper lip, the shoulders told a different story. She was done, last hope extinguished. The General had already told him there was a replacement Intersect, there was going to be changes to the team, a more professional approach.

She had speculated about Walker's capabilities since the loss of Bartowski, Casey wasn't fooled, she'd ditch Walker in a heartbeat, Casey wasn't about to let one of the best partners he ever worked with get canned. He had a plan. When they hit American airspace, and he got a signal he found a quiet spot and made a call on a burner he had. The line rang a few times and was picked up.

"Casey secure", there was a surprised acknowledgement and then a salacious comment followed with a sultry laugh, he cut that off fast, "Listen, she needs you." The other voice turned serious, "Of course, it's the moron. He's run." There was an explosively loud expletive that went off in his ear, he winced. "Ok, ok, you can get in line, listen, there's going to be a call, be ready." The other voice assured him. "Casey out". He hung up, he looked again at his partner, he'd already lost one, yeah, John Casey in the dark of his apartment with a glass of his favourite whisky had to admit it, he missed the kid.

"Bartowski, look at what you've done, you've ruined a perfectly good agent…agents. You better hope we don't find you". He sat down and drank his coffee. He wouldn't, they wouldn't, not for a very long time…

…..

Back in South America in the Palermo suburb of Buenos Aires, Mateo Lopez watched a satellite feed of the Premier jet on its journey home, there was a general sense of relief amongst the Ghosts that the handlers of Chuck Bartowski had turned up nothing. Watching from Europe, Dieter, and Paul in particular hoped that that was the last they'd hear of their mistake.

Things were serious now. That had been too close.

They prepared for Chuck's interactions with Interpol and the French Military Intelligence clearance section with a heavy emphasis on zero errors. This time they would get it right.

Oisin, wasn't worried about them finding out about Denis or the Colibri. They were part of the French Government's Space program. Security was tight enough on that operation that nobody would consider them as a means of escape. Denis owed his son, and he only knew he was helping a friend of his friend's father. No, for the Americans, the trail ended at the Airport.

He switched off his laptop. Time to set other things in motion. He had a trip to France to plan, Chuck would be there soon. He smiled, he felt great, these past months had been a tonic, he was enjoying life again.