Chuck vs The Wayward Legionnaire
Chapter 9: The Farm/ Business as usual….?
23rd June 2009. Castelnaudry. 12.30hrs
It was midday, the recruits had been up since 5am they had reported to the Caporal Du Jour, this was rotated between the various NCOs of similar rank, from them flowed the orders of the day for each recruit. Any questions any recruit had was addressed to them, they in turn reported to the Sergent Du Jour and he, in turn, to the C.O. in this case Delon.
When they had arrived nearly a month ago, they had been gathered into sections of 30 men, Delon turned up to address them on their arrival from Aubagne, he had introduced them to their NCO commanders, they were further broken down into three, ten man Groupes, it was then that the men met the mercurial Spanish Sergent Dario Sastre, beside him stood two Caporals, Sean Murphy and grim-faced Polish Caporal Damian Barczar. There were others but they were with the other sections.
A smile had broken out on Robie's face at the sight of Sean, there had been an almost imperceptible nod from the Irishman, his face though, like his colleagues had been set in stone. Robie quickly felt his smile drop, he'd been foolish, he chided himself, he was going to have to be more careful. He wasn't there yet. He noticed his nemesis Pavel jerk his eyes away as they faced front. Dammit! That was all he needed.
He swore quietly under his breath and then caught himself, he had changed, swearing! He wondered what a certain blue-eyed angel would think of him now, it was a momentary thought. Delon was explaining the process they were about to follow. He switched on again, his focus on the Lieutenant's words. His French was improving, better than his instructors thought but it was still an effort.
They were then marched to a literal farm, a rustic old farmhouse some miles from the heated living quarters they had enjoyed on the first night of Castel, Sastre had enjoyed informing them that such quarters would only be enjoyed after they had earned their right to sleep there, that would only come after they had received the first month's training. Three to a bunk and limited locker space. Suddenly they were responsible for not only themselves but their section mates too!
That had been three weeks ago, the first week had actually turned out to be fun, the remaining men due in from another Selection hadn't arrived yet so instead of a week of corvee, the NCOs decided to get the ball rolling with a driving course, there was a wide variety of vehicles that the Legion used and Robie got to drive them all! He had loved it; the defensive driving course had reminded him a little too much of a night on the run in L.A., but he soon forgot that with Damian Barczar screaming instructions in French in his ear as they slammed around a mud laden obstacle course.
That had been another thing that had surprised him, the usual procedure had been during a working day only French was to be spoken, normally after the final meal around 6 or 7 pm there was an understanding that recruits could lapse into their mother tongues until Reveille the next day.
Not this time, Delon had vetoed it except for exceptional circumstances, the men for whom French was not spoken as native were all assigned their Binomes, a native French speaker, in Robie's case this turned out to be a surprise, the "Swiss French" native was anything but Swiss French, the Legion was normally forbidden to Frenchmen, but anyone looking at the make-up of any Selection would have been surprised to see the amount of Belgium, Luxemburg, and Swiss French as well as citizens of other French speaking territories that seemed to produce an endless supply of young men eager to make their mark in the toughest of French armies.
Antoine Brun was a character if ever there was one, two months ago he'd been a Parisian policeman, on a whim he had decided he preferred a soldier's life, the others had been puzzled why he hadn't joined the regular army, but he had his reasons. His ability to maintain a straight face as Robie mangled his language daily, according to Brun, was probably the main reason he ended up in the 10-man Groupe that comprised of Robie, Vanderlaan, Chen and the Russians and Sean as their NCO.
Things had started to go downhill from day one, the bad feeling from the Selection towards Robie had continued in a myriad of subtle dirty tricks orchestrated by Yershov as part of his revenge for Potemkin. Even Brun who had to share a locker with Robie had suffered consequently. Robie grinned through it all, after the antics of Jeff and Lester at the Buymore, the Russians were rank amateurs!
It was a balmy afternoon after a morning on the rifle range when Sean managed to get Robie into the NCO office on some pretext.
Sean had a quick look around the building for other NCOs as he ushered Robie in, "Mate, you're damn near radioactive right now!", he exclaimed.
"It's those Russian idiots acting the goat with you, well done on keeping your cool, personally I'd have snapped one of them in half by now, corvee or no corvee. You're facing a situation, you realise that?"
Robie nodded, "I thought as much, we have the march in a few days, they need to act before then…"
There was a forced 2-day 50 km march coming up for the section, full pack of 40-50 pounds of equipment and arms. Robie and Erik and Maksym had it worse, they had qualified for the prestigious sniper course after an excellent showing on the range, Robie had given silent thanks to the many nights of gaming with Morgan. But that meant extra weight. Still, it marked the end of the first month and cuts were going to made, the lieutenant had been clear on that.
"I reckon so, there's been a lot of talk about you with the staff and Delon, he's got a bee in his bonnet about you for some reason…"
Robie paled at that, "Do you think he's going to fail me…?" He felt sick, he had come so far, surely, he couldn't be failed now.
Sensing his anxiety, Sean gave a reassuring grin, "Relax, he's just puzzled about you, you don't fit the mould as we thought. I screwed up there, but I have a little something up my sleeve for the next meeting." He produced the pictures of Sarah and the man formerly known as Chuck Bartowski.
Robie's eyes pained a little at the sight. But the hurt wasn't as bad as it had been, the life of a recruit was busy, he had a lot to learn and with typical Bartowski stubbornness, he had embraced his new life, determined to make a success of it.
He was suddenly reminded of what else he had given up, "Any news on my sister and friends?"
That was the other reason Sean had asked the younger man into the office, from beneath his shirt he withdrew a mobile phone, he threw it across to a surprised Robie.
"Dad wants a word, problems with your babies, and he promised to keep you updated, I'll go keep watch." With a thumbs up he left the office.
There was only one number in the phone and Robie quickly hit dial, it was answered almost immediately.
The booming voice of Oisin Murphy filled his ears and he found he was filled with happiness; he hadn't felt this way since he had been a young boy with his own father.
"Chuck my lad! Good to hear from you, I hear things are going well! You realise with the Kepi ceremony you're in!"
The other man's excitement was infectious and Robie couldn't help but smile broadly at the praise. Still there were questions to be asked and little time to answer.
"Hello Oisin, thanks, I hear you're having a few technical issues, let me guess, Unix compatibility? I forgot to tell you guys I had made some alterations to include my own versions for ease of use."
Oisin wasn't surprised at the reply, the man was a genius, just how much he had finally begun to appreciate as himself and the other ghosts prepared watered down versions of Chuck's program for the market. That was indeed their issue in a nutshell. But first he needed to tell Chuck the more important news, family news.
"Spot on Chuck, but we can get to that, everything is fine back in L.A. Ellie and Devon and Morgan are not taking your absence well however…" Robie's heart lurched at that. "…but they are safe, Devon's parents are still shielding them, unknowingly. Your message to Beckman also seems to have reinforced that. The new Intersect is your old friend Larkin."
Robie grunted at that, he hoped his "surprise" hadn't done too much damage, but if ever someone deserved it… "Did they do as we planned, Oisin?"
There was a sound of disgust from the Irishman, "We've lost a lot of our surveillance on the American agencies, as anticipated, and yes, Roisin has been highly busy with audits and fulfilling numerous security products for very particular unnamed US Government bodies…"
"Don't worry, they have no idea where you are, we are still monitoring Interpol and French agencies, any moves against you would have to go through them and thanks to Janus screwing up Beckman's fugitive notice, they aren't even aware of who they should be looking for even if they knew! Ellie and Devon are also under constant cover from Mike and his friends…"
"…friends?" he hadn't meant to sound as harsh but his was his family.
"Yes lad, we have our own network, don't worry, Mike is well on top of things, he has some good people and Team Intersect are busy working on Fulcrum, as long as they keep having successes, you're on the back burner with Beckman."
"I heard about the nom de guerre lad," he chuckled. "What are the odds of that?"
Robie laughed too, "From what I was told it could have been worse!"
"Listen lad, everything is proceeding well, you've another three months training after the end of the march, if I need you, Sean will get you, so don't worry about Ellie and Devon, you will see them again, I promise."
A wave of gratitude swept over Robie, "Thanks Oisin, I don't know what to say…"
On the other side of Europe in Dublin, Oisin heard the emotion in Chuck's voice. He marvelled at the thought he had gained a surrogate son. He couldn't imagine what the younger man was feeling, separated from all he had known, he silently reiterated his earlier promise to himself that he would use all in his power to help him. He paused before answering.
"Nonsense lad, now you don't worry about a thing, concentrate on yourself, there's still a long road ahead. Ok?"
The two men, separated by culture and blood had bonded in a way neither of them could have foreseen, they both took pleasure from this new relationship, of equals and partners, they spent the next twenty minutes covering what needed to be done for the launch, Oisin promising to have Chuck's banking set up in France too.
"I'll get Roisin to set you up with a banking card for any access you need for funds lad, Sean will get it by courier as soon she sets it up, he can hold it for you and as we see a return on Archangel you watch that balance grow!" Oisin added excitedly.
"I just hope we re-establish Janus as quickly as possible Oisin, Beckman is as slippery as hell, I don't like being in the dark wherever she's concerned. Casey or Walker too."
"We won't lad, we have turned Janus into a jigsaw puzzle, anyone auditing the new software will assume it's redundant code, we're selling individually to separate agencies but when they connect online, as they surely will, Janus will reawaken, better than before and that version will cover the world, we're going to be the ultimate spies, Chuck."
"Good", replied Robie heartfeltly, "I don't think we need any more surprises."
"You get some rest Chuck, that 50 km is no fun and only a prelude for the big one at the end" The conversation ended shortly, Robie felt lighter. It was hard to hear of his family's suffering, but they appeared safe and that was really all he could hope for, for the moment. Sean re-entered the room.
"All good?" he asked. Robie nodded. "On the home front, yeah, here maybe not so much".
Sean agreed, "Be careful, Yershov is a real prick if he's planning anything, it's soon. Watch your back, don't get drawn into anything stupid, ok?"
Robie nodded, "I'm thinking tomorrow". Sean nodded too, "I'll hang close, but I think Delon has already figured out we may be closer than we are supposed to be…" He looked thoughtful, "…I can play that angle".
Robie thought that made sense, "Casey and Sarah…Walker used to say a good cover contains an element of truth… family friend works for me, but I don't want to drag you into something bad…"
Sean was not surprised by that response, his Dad was a great judge of character and when he had approached his son with this madman plan, he had initially baulked, why jeopardise so much for some unknown Yank?
He had come to see the man though as he guessed his father and his dad's friends had, a good man, set upon by circumstances like out of some work of fiction. It would have broken a lesser man by now, that knowledge, the burden of it. He had his own secrets and they weighed heavily on his mind.
Although it was the unfairness of the life it had imposed that got him. He felt bad for Robie. The heartbreak that was evident every time Sarah Walker's name was mentioned, yeah, he had noticed that too, a blind man would have, boy had it bad.
He forced a smile on his face, "No worries, mate. We're in this together, you better go, Delon will be wondering what the hell is taking me so long with a recruit."
"Cheers Sean." Robie snapped to attention, saluted, and left.
Sean watched him go, an old ad jingle ran though his mind, "There may be trouble ahead, but while there's moonlight and music and love and romance. Let's face the music and dance…" He nodded to himself, they were short on love and romance around here unless you were otherwise inclined, but as he watched a section of men march slowly by singing Le Boudin… music, he thought, yes, we have plenty of music…and trouble…
23rd June 2009. The Farm. Delon's Quarter's. 21.00hrs
They gathered in the Officer's quarters for their usual debrief of the day's activities and the plans for the remainder of the first month, they were deciding the fates of young men, some of whom had made the Legion their life's goal, Delon's standards would not be lowered though, for what he had been tasked with, he needed the very best.
Sean's observation was quickly proven right, Robie was a popular subject, so much so even the senior NCO Sastre was starting to notice, there was pause over his motivation, seeking adventure had been a bad choice of words. Broken romance had seemed cliché at the time, he thought adventure would work better, he regretted making Robie take that option, Delon needed some form of assurance.
He looked around the room at his section leaders, "Well gentlemen, it's decision time, we need committed men…", there had been silence when Delon finally revealed the purpose of the new Unit, it appeared the initial rumours had been spot on, this was going to be a covert Unit! Sean and the others groaned, the background on Delon should have told them that, his file had mentioned Military Intelligence training, nobody had realised he had specialised in it.
The usual route for most French Officers was a cushy number with the Regulars, the Legion however honed leaders, you were guaranteed deployments in trouble spots, as a QRF, Quick Reaction Force, the Legions proud boast was they could be anywhere in the world within 24hrs. The men they trained were not normal French soldiers and the officers that commanded them couldn't be either.
Do or die thought Sean, "Lt, I didn't really want to say anything, the men that join us do for a variety of reasons, but I do know why Robie signed up…" he threw the strip of pictures on the desk.
Delon picked it up, his eyebrows slowly widened as did the eyes of Sastre and Barczar, there was a low whistle from the Spaniard at the sight of the beautiful blonde, "They broke up…?", he asked incredulously. The love both people in the picture had for each other was obvious, Barczar and Sastre were married men, unusual for the Legion but they both knew the heartache of being apart from loved ones.
Delon had more professional thoughts, "how did you get these, Sean?", there was a sharpness to his voice, he knew the men had been stripped of every personal possession when they signed up, as of yet they had not been permitted to contact family or friends, no phones were permitted, no email addresses assigned yet and those would be heavily monitored by the powers that be, when they did, certainly no letters or pictures were allowed. He was understandably annoyed.
"He's a family friend, I knew he was signing up, met him at a family do last leave I had back home…" The others nodded, though the Legion usually frowned upon Legionnaires leaving France, signing up meant the Legion kept their official documents like passports. Still, it was an open secret that many would visit home, they usually returned. Sean had reupped so he was indulged. He, like the other men had proved their mettle in combat, which was why Delon had selected them personally.
Delon took a packet of cigarettes from his shirt pocket, only Barczar took one. "Well, this sheds a different complexion on Robie, so our American has a broken heart?" He looked at Sean. "Yes Lt. touchy subject. I had a feeling he was interested, he was asking a lot of questions, he'd lost his girl, his job, lost his way, usual sob story. I told him out straightwhat the deal was. In my view, he's had a tough time, fucking Russians have been messing him about too for some reason…"
Delon cut in, "I know why…" He quickly filled them in on what had happened in Selection. Barczar's face contorted in anger, there was no love lost between the Polish and the Russians. He swore in Polish angrily under his breath. Sastre had no particular love for the Russians either, he wasn't pleased though. This explained the problems they had been having with the unit cohesion. He proposed a radical solution though.
"Maybe we do need to fail Robie, one man for the sake of a functioning section? Seems an easy choice for me." Sean grimaced; he should have realised the hard-headed Sergent would be more pragmatic.
Delon thought about that, Sean's revelation had put a different slant on things though, not to mention the pictures of the bombshell blonde, she would drive any man into the arms of the Legion, he thought, no, he needed men of a certain skillset, he felt a lot more comfortable about Robie now.
Americans had always been a problem, educated ones more so, as soon as the realities of Legion life set in, they were gone, most deserted within a year.
"Ok, mais oui,", he made his decision, "he stays until he fails." There was a grunt of acceptance from Sastre, "And the Russians?"
"We'll see how Robie handles things. He's been exemplary so far, those results from the sniper course are impressive, Barczar, you have instructed him well." The Polish Caporal bore a look of satisfaction, he spoke proudly, "The Ukrainian and Dutchman weren't bad either, I have high hopes for them all, they could be competition level with some extra instruction."
The Tireur de Precision (Markman) course was normally a two-week affair usually handed out at unit selection after completing Basic, but Delon had made changes to that format, he needed exceptional men exceptionally fast. If the three men proved to be adept, he would push them forward for Tireur d'Elite (Sniper).
He was pleased with that, the more strings he could add to the bows of the men the better, as it was, he had planned an accelerated training schedule for them all. Still the basics had to be mastered first. "Any injuries to report?"
"A few blisters on some feet, usual aches and sprains, if we plan the march for two days from now, that shouldn't be a problem." Sastre replied.
Delon steepled his fingers in front of his face in thought, "So our main issue is still unit cohesion?" There was a collection of nods from his team, "Perhaps after the march we should move things around, see if we can't make a better fit before the end of Selection."
The group reflected on that, "Can't hurt", said Sean, re-joining the conversation, he was elated inside, his gamble had paid off.
Delon checked the time on his wall clock, he needed to phone Felix, he took the photos off his desk, "Tell Robie I don't want them on display, ok?" He met Sean's eyes, the other man nodded, "Yes Boss. I'll return them if he makes the Kepi."
"All right gentlemen, let's get the men squared away, Sergent?", Sastre looked at his section head, "I think a 2am room inspection is in order tonight." The Sergent smiled, "I was just thinking that very same thing, Boss!" Delon returned his smile, "What an amazing coincidence!" The two men laughed, Sean and Damian shook their heads.
24th June 2009. The Farm Mess Hall. 19.00hs.
Robie hadn't been sitting long, He ate hungrily, the morning had shot by, more basic training, and then in the afternoon another medical, this one had been a lot of inoculations though, another positive sign he was almost through.
He grinned to himself, Sean had explained with deployments abroad, diseases were something to be considered, they operated in many spheres, from jungles in South America to Africa and Afghanistan, extremes of weather and conditions.
Across the room the cold eyes of Pavel Yershov stared intently, it had taken time, but he had managed to manoeuvre things to his satisfaction, the American's friends and binome, Brun were still at the medics, that damn Irish Caporal that hung around was missing too. He glanced around the Mess again, Maksym and his Ukrainian friends had been warned to stay out of their way or his earlier veiled threats to the Ukrainian's family would not go unfulfilled.
He had been patient though, his men hadn't gathered in one clump, Sergey Morgachev was seated near the doors, he now flashed a sign that the NCO and Mess staff had disappeared for a smoke. He looked across the room at Aleksandr Osachuk, the other man nodded, he tapped the plate of the last Russian who had sat in front of him, Kolya Sorokin, a bear of a man, he slowly stood and turned and faced the American.
His movements were sure, for a large man he was almost silent as he came across the floor, Robie had been fortunate, he had sat near the centre of the Hall facing one of the windows, it had been a typical day in Southern France, sunny but clouds had slipped in later that day filling the horizon, by early evening, the light had dimmed. The glass was almost a mirror at that time of day.
He was still musing when he noticed Sorokin's reflection, the slow cocking of his hands for a blow to the back of Robie's head finally registered and then he moved…fast!
He wheeled out of his chair, Sorokin's fist blurred past his ear, Robie's left hand had grabbed the chair's backrest and he spun smashing the big Russian across his shoulders sending him flying against the opposite table. He dropped the remains and his right foot shot up in a perfect front kick into the solar plexus of the big Russian, dropping him to the floor gasping for air.
There was no time to savour his small victory as a large hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around to a hard right cross that rocked his head back, he slammed back hard against a wall, but he got lucky again, Pavel and Aleksandr in their haste to join in had committed the classic tactical error in a melee and blocked each other's path. From the door Sergey frowned in annoyance but kept his vigil.
Robie quickly grabbed a salt seller off a table and cracking the lid fired the contents into Pavel's face, he fell back snorting and sneezing as he rubbed furiously at his face, turning swiftly Robie's outstretched arms blocked a high kick from Aleksandr, Robie took the momentum from that and spun lashing out a low kick at the off-balance Russian sending him into a table that splintered under his weight. He rolled away in pain.
Outside the NCOs had heard the commotion, Sastre raged, he was going to kick some arse! He shouted to the other two and as they ran to the Mess Hall doors there was a call from behind, he spun, there by the Mess smoking area stood Delon himself!
Sastre was no idiot, he double timed over to the officer, once there he realised Delon had a perfect view of the going's on in the Mess. He saluted the officer and cocked a thumb. "You want us to break it up, the March is tomorrow?"
Delon smiled, "No Dario, I think problems concerning cohesion are about to resolve themselves!" He nodded at something over the senior NCO's shoulder, Sastre looked, Erik and Philip had been making their way to the Mess, as they heard sounds of breaking glass and splintering furniture, comprehension had dawned on both. They sprinted to the Mess, anger on their faces, they never noticed the onlookers.
"I think we can spare a few minutes gentlemen, Damian cigarette?" The Polish man smiled, he was a bit of a chain smoker too, and the spilling of Russian blood was a cause for celebration in his view, Sean Murphy also grinned, seemed like Denis's roughhousing with Robie was about to pay off. Delon had proven to be a surprise as an Officer, not the standard Legion traditionalist bound by brutality, he was a thinker.
Inside, despite blood running down his face from a cut above his eye, Robie had managed to fight his way back into a corner of the Mess wall, his rear protected he found he could block and return blows here and there, but now Sorokin had regained his feet though, he lumbered towards them with a scowl on his face. Robie knew he could hold his own against the others but with that monster approaching he resigned himself to a few days in the infirmary. Dammit! Sean had warned him.
A sharp blow to his gut from one of others, made him gasp with pain and stagger, he had let his attention waver! Pavel and Aleksandr pounced, each grabbing an arm they forced Robie upright and against the wall, Pavel shouted at Sorokin, "Hurt him, hurt him bad! For Potemkin!". The big Russian reached out and turned the side of Robie's face that wasn't bloodied towards him, he smiled evilly, "I think I make both sides match…"
There was a commotion behind him, but he ignored it.
Settling himself, Sorokin drew back his other fist, yes, he thought, a broken jaw or missing teeth would be a good compensation for his friend. That was his last good thought, the boot that smashed across the side of his face sent him into the floor like a guided missile!
As he dropped the figures of Philip Chen and Erik Vanderlaan were revealed and they were not happy! Aleksandr let go of Robie and threw a hard right at Chen's head. Pavel, also no fool, had spun around and fired off a front kick at Erik's chest.
That was when something really strange happened, the Taiwanese man's left elbow shot up at a weird angle, almost like an inverted L, the fist of the Russian was subtlety parried as the right fist of Chen simultaneously shot forward into his face sending him backwards into the wall, the Taiwanese didn't pause there he quickly advanced, Aleksandr seeing this, gamely fired off a left jab only to barely see his hand parried by the retracting right hand that now used a chop like shape deflecting the punch. It was a brief glance because a Wing Chun Biu Jee strike speared his eyes and he felt rather than saw the beginning of the chain punches that damn near pummelled him unconscious!
Things weren't going great for Pavel Yershov either! His opponent Erik had assumed a low stance, his arms opened like pinchers, and one covered his midriff as the other stopped up by the side of his face, both hands were in an open position. As Pavel's kick neared the stomach, Erik had used a L stepping manoeuvre coupled with a grab of Yershov's leg and he was deftly pulled off balance as his other knee was buckled with a vicious low kick that had his knee ligaments snapping like old string, his scream of pain was horrendous. A hand to the back of his neck pushed his head down and spun him and brought his face into hard contact with a rising low knee that ended his misery abruptly. He crumbled into the floor.
The two other men looked in surprise at each other with the sudden revelation of their fighting skills, they gave each other an appreciative mock bow and bent to check on their fallen opponents.
Robie and the rest of the Mess had also been surprised at the abilities of his two friends, they had flowed like oil, smooth and practised, Sergey Morgachev had been knocked aside by the two men as they entered the Mess, regaining his feet he screamed at Maksym and his men to join them as he rushed forward at the fall of Sorokin, several of the Ukrainians half-heartedly made to stand up from their tables but a snarl from Maksym sat them back down.
Spinning back around, Sergey saw his other friends fall at the hands of Chen and Vanderlaan, enraged he grabbed a knife charging at the men's backs. The sudden appearance of Robie from between the others caused him to alter his charge, he swung his blade in a wild angle at Robie's body, Robie hadn't been blind though, he'd seen the Russian grab the knife and had grabbed a large mess tin as he deflected the attack!
Sparks flew from the contact of the two metal objects, the Russian flailed about like a madman, Robie parried desperately, luckily the attacks became predicable and on the next pass Robie caught the wrist yielding the knife and locked Sergey's elbow causing the Russian to stumble forward into a spinning elbow strike to the jaw, there was an explosion of blood and several small white objects fell from his mouth to the floor followed by the Russian.
The Officer and NCOs outside the Mess had the smiles disappear off their faces as they realised things were getting out of hand, Sastre charged the Hall, the others at his heels.
They burst through the doors, but it was Robie and his two friends that stood victorious. The rest of the Mess Hall silently watched as the NCOs unloaded a verbal barrage on the three men, then Delon appeared at the doors.
The room snapped to attention. He surveyed the damage, it appeared his plans to move the men around were going to be unnecessary, the Russians were gone, a few slaps could be tolerated, this was a military operation, but this, this had been a deadly assault, this would only fester unless he cut the cancer out now. But first, there was the matter of discipline to deal with…
"Well, Sergent" he began, "It appears your daily reports were inaccurate…" Sastre, who had calmed down from his volcanic rage now appeared puzzled, "Mon Lieutenant…?"
"…did you not inform me that the men had finished their tasks for the day and were exhausted and ready for some rest?" He raised an eyebrow enquiringly.
Sastre quickly caught on, "I apologize, Mon Lieutenant, with this sudden…exuberance, you are quite correct, perhaps a nice 8 Km run would burn off this excess energy….and I think we may very well need to reconsider the March and instead begin earlier than anticipated, I had no idea the men were holding back Sir!"
There was a collective groan from the assembled men, that day's activities had been anything but light! There was a palatable hatred in their looks at the Russians. The Officer and the NCOs grinned at their discomfort.
Delon looked around, "Get the medics, Robie get yourself checked out and then join your Groupe!"
Robie snapped to it, disappearing out the door, cursing under his breath, Sean Murphy followed screaming in his ear all the way to the infirmary. He stopped as soon as they entered.
"I thought I said don't get caught out in something stupid?" He glared at Robie who sighed, "Sorry Sean, they caught me napping, Yershov planned it well, I never saw it coming…"
Sean grabbed a medical kit from a cabinet, "Sit", he said pointing at a stool.
Robie sat, to his surprise Sean ran expert fingers across his face and body, he ordered Robie to stretch his ribs as he checked for damage. "Any loose teeth?" Robie probed his jaw carefully with his tongue, he shook his head, "Ribs are fine too. Thanks to Erik and Philip. Did you see them fight? What was that? I never seen anything like that!"
Sean looked in thought, "I think Chen was using Wing Chun, never learnt any but no idea what Vanderlaan used, looked like a combination of styles but it was too esoteric, something I haven't seen before, trust me, I soon bloody will!" He promised.
"Looks like you weren't the only one hiding some skills!" Sean grumbled and rummaged in another cabinet, he opened a vial and emptied a bunch of tablets into Robie's hands. "Painkillers, trust me, you're going to need them over the next two days!"
"Shit… is Delon serious? About the March?" Robie gasped, Sean smiled wickedly, "You bet your arse he is! Now buckle up mate, it's showtime!"
They left the infirmary at a run, Robie had just enough time to change his working dress to his combats and return, it wasn't fast enough for Barczar, he had Robie do the usual 100 push ups before being allowed join the group.
Delon watched them depart, he'd push the paperwork through on the Russians, they were history, he had more recruits coming through, this was for the best, a show of authority was needed. The Legion was a privilege. They needed men that could follow orders unquestioningly, he didn't need any rogue factions.
He lit another cigarette, that had been instructive, Chen and Vanderlaan needed watching too, their skills were far too good for the usual practitioners, he may have gotten more than he had hoped for, but he was certainly going to take advantage of it!
26th June 2009. Roquefere. 16.30hrs
It was a tired section of Legionnaire recruits that sat in the back of a covered Legion troop transport on their way back to Castelnaudry, at least they managed the march, Sastre had been in fine form from start to finish, if the men had thought he had cooled off after the Mess Hall incident they discovered they still had a lot to learn about the fiery Spaniard!
The first day had been a hard drive up the hilly terrain, the paths were strewn with stones, there had been plenty of swearing as the men had not experienced that kind of ground before, the flat fields of the Farm and parade grounds were a pleasant memory after the first 21kms, after a brief rest, the training staff had had a few impromptu tests on the basic training the men had received so far.
Some had been detailed to map read to lead the men to a selected campground, once there, others selected swiftly prepared a camp area, bivouacs were constantly torn down by the NCOs until finally they were happy with the standard of all, a fire was lit, again survival skills were tested, it had to be done by hand, finally a demonstration of field first aid was ordered with improvisation in stretcher making and the transportation of "wounded" across rivers and up and down steep hills until the men were a mess of "sweaty, filthy, rabble" according to Barczar. His solution was a good corvee session covering the basics of kit maintenance and personal hygiene in the field. All done with traditional Legion precision and singing.
Robie's punishment didn't end there though, he had to prepare the evening meal for the NCOs and Delon who had also come along for the March. He had surprised the men by carrying a full load, it was not uncommon for an officer to leave 20-30 pounds of kit from their rucksacks.
He carefully filled the mugs of his training staff with coffee, the lifeblood of the Legion and then reported to Delon who had situated himself slightly apart from his men. Robie as always, felt himself being sized up by the quietly smoking officer. He wisely kept his mouth shut; a certain Major had thought him the value of that.
The next day, Delon had really poured on the pace, they eventually climbed a small hill to a commune called Roquefere, it was then that they realised that the bastards had made them go an extra ten kms! They quietly grumbled to themselves; however, it was their first trip outside the confines of Legion life since they began their training. The strangeness of being back in the civilian world left many of them temporarily slack jawed and subdued at the experience. They sat at a low wall on the town outskirts and wallowed in the mundane passing by of the townsfolks as they went about their lives.
There, at the edge of the town, they were met by the transport back, there wasn't a man who didn't need the help of one of the others to clamber into the back of the carriers.
The trip back had barely taken an hour when they pulled up at the gates of Castel, they groaned, what fresh hell awaited them now? To their surprise, Delon congratulated them on their achievement, they were assigned to their new quarters in the quartier Capitaine Danjou, the casterne(barracks) were a far better affair than the old farmhouse that had been their home for the first month of Basic.
The rooms had central heating, Robie had discovered living in the mountainous area of Europe had brought extremes of temperature, hot days and cold nights. There was no air conditioning, he hadn't noticed at the time, a full day of instruction usually left him exhausted and glad of sleep when he turned in.
Guard duty was the only time he realised the differences between his Buy More and Legion lives. At first, he found it was a struggle to maintain focus over the 24-hour period as himself and Brun did their duty.
The Parisian was a tonic though, here his former life as a policeman had stood to him, he had worked all manner of shifts and he kept Robie's spirits up with tales of life in the capital, real or tall, Robie didn't care, it got them through and improved his French, his conversational skills had really come on, Brun's face had almost stopped it's contortions, and he rarely asked for another word from Brun if he didn't understand the first.
Sean had been busy though, after the Mess Hall incident he had quietly snapped a shot of Chen and Vanderlaan, contacting his father, he had passed on their pictures. "Nothing serious Dad, I just want a deep background on both." The older Murphy had listened with interest and quietly agreed with his son's assessment, couldn't hurt and nothing was too far where Chuck's safety was concerned.
What he found though….
A slightly nervous Sean grabbed Robie later from an equipment shed where he was cleaning some kit, polishing boots, Barczar had still not forgiven him for the ruck either. "Robie," he heard from the door, turning he saw Sean furtively looking about," …you alone?"
He nodded, waving a boot in the air, "Yep, what's up?"
Closing the door behind him the Irishman took a couple of quick steps into the room and grabbed Robie into a corner, he took his mobile from his pocket, "Take a gander at this, I had Dad do a check on your pals, you aren't going to believe this!"
Somewhat surprised and annoyed, Robie took the phone, popping open the mail he started to read, what the hell provoked that reaction, he wondered? Remembering days back in Burbank when Sarah and Casey would pry into his life, he remembered his annoyance at their intrusiveness.
Five minutes later though, he was sitting down with a slightly shocked look on his face," This is verified…?" he looked at Sean's face. The other man nodded, "C'mon it's Dad and his mates, they checked!"
"I mean, what are the odds on this!" Sean groaned. Robie had no idea, "Well it's obvious they're here on false pretences too…" he looked at the email again, it was unbelievable! "How the hell did they get past the Gestapo?"
Sean shook his head, "Well Chen is easily explainable, it was probably his family, but Vanderlaan…?"
Yeah, thought Robie, that was the big one, "I guess he had friends too…" Sean groaned again, "You think?!"
"If they find out … the level of attention this could bring…" he trailed off, this was big, no big was too small, this was fucking HUGE!
Sean sighed, "I had Dad and the gang do their thing, they used that program, Janus, on them but thank Christ I checked though," He paused, "Look Robie it mightn't be that bad, at least now we know, and nobody else has guessed, he's completely changed his appearance so that's something! Chen on the other hand is ok, a small worry, but bugger me! What are you thinking mate?
"I have no idea Sean, but I guess birds of a feather… we'll just have to see what's in store." He stood up and walked to the window, His two friends and yes, they were now, waited outside, they waved at him, Chen mimed drinking, Erik nodded enthusiastically. He smiled back with a thumbs up, "is my life just one weird bag of shit or what?", he asked as he looked back at Sean.
Sean could only shake his head. "Things have just gotten very interesting, that's for sure!" He looked thoughtful. He hummed…
"I could shop them…"
Robie spun "NO!" He paused, "No sorry, look they're here for a reason, same as me. Hiding away. Besides, we're friends now, and…" he waved the mobile, "…as it turns out with a lot more in common than we knew."
Sean mulled that over, "Ok, we'll play it by ear, it's obvious you're not their reason for being here, I'll have Dad dig more."
"I agree. I have nothing on them…" he tapped his head knowingly looking at Sean, "…up here."
"That's something I guess, look, play it cool, things are going to heat up now with training, it's going to be more team orientated, Groupe against Groupe, even Sastre has no idea what's coming next, keep your wits sharp and your head down, ok?"
Robie nodded, "Thanks Sean". The other man left the room. Robie sat down again grabbing another pair of boots, He began the careful process of cleaning, inside though, his mind was racing. Had the bizarre world of Chuck Bartowski come crashing into the new life of John Robie? He hoped not…
29th June 2009. Downtown L.A. 04.30am
The two figures moved silently on the rooftop, the abseiling rigs lay close to the edge of the roof, two were already prepared, the bigger man grumbled loudly, the smaller, slender man, bristled at the insults driven his way but continued to work on the final two rigs. This was going to be a team effort, surveillance had been conducted, enemy movements logged, the plan had been made, a co-ordinated strike from outside the building had been determined as the best option combined with a larger force entering through the underground garage and lobbies.
The time of the attack was the traditional just before dawn, below them the security teams and enemy personnel of the Fulcrum station would be relaxing, tired after a long night working.
The early morning quiet was shattered as the door to the roof access area shot open, two lithe shapely figures appeared, they were clad in black Tactical gear with hoods covering their features but there was no mistaking the fact they were women, walking briskly across the roof they stepped into the rigs.
The bigger man caught on to what was happening, his eyes widened as the two stepped to the edge of the roof, "Walker! Miller! Goddammit wait…...!"
With a jaunty salute from the taller of the two at Casey, they both dropped out of sight. He sprinted to the edge and looked down, both women whooped at they shot down towards the target, the 33rd floor of the midsized skyscraper. As he watched, Walker pulled a rifle from her back, she braced against a wall and then kicking out she fired several sticky explosive rounds at the floor's windows.
Miller had also kicked out and had a similar rifle with an attachment that shot flashbangs, Walker hit a detonator and several of the windows exploded inwards, Miller fired several rounds in before the blasts even finished and he could hear them impact and explode inside the interior of the building as the two women, drawing sidearms vanished into the opening, already shooting.
Snarling he turning to the other man who had joined him at the edge with another rope, "Goddammit Larkin! You were supposed to have all the ropes ready, get harnessed and get your ass down there!" Surprised at Casey's wrath, Larkin cast about looking for the last rope. Casey walked over the edge into space.
He looked at the road as he dropped, he smiled grimly as he saw several black vans speeding to various entrances and exits, some screeching to a halt as teams of NSA agents disembarked sprinting to the lobby to close off any escape routes.
He could hear complete pandemonium inside the building as he reached above the 33rd floor.
"Over there!", "I see her!" PHUT! PHUT! silenced shots rang out and the sound of smashing glass and heavy furniture breaking reached him, he sped up. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! A SIG barked out, "Jesus, shoot them, kill them!" a man's voice implored, another sounding exasperated said, "I can't! They're all over the place!" There was a whooshing sound and a meaty THUNK! As something sharp hit home and then the screaming started…
"It's in the bone!", someone wailed piteously, "It's in the bo… GLACK!" There was a wet choking sound, the moaning ceased abruptly and something heavy crashed into what sounded like a filing cabinet. There was a sound of running feet and a sustained burst of gunfire from an assault rifle rang out. It ended and there was another PHUT! PHUT! "Got him… that's five for me!" Walker. A throaty giggle could be heard elsewhere inside the room. Miller.
Casey rolled his eyes and braced himself against the wall of the floor above and kicked out….
In the ruins, to the uninitiated eye of what had been a tastefully appointed office area, there was stealthy movement under a desk. Fulcrum agent Aaron Wise shook his aching head as he tried to make sense of the past few minutes.
He'd been preparing the reports from the analysts who used the facility, his team had just relieved the night watch and had settled down, and why wouldn't they? They were on the 33rd floor of a 45-story building, they controlled all access from the 30th to the 35th which housed the substation.
The lead analyst had just handed him the reports when they heard a splatting sound against the windows from behind them which was definitely odd as that was outside …
He'd started to turn and then all hell broke loose! There was a crash as the windows exploded inwards, small black objects shot by him, he felt a sudden blow against his head from some flying debris and he greyed out, collapsing behind his desk. Mercifully, he missed the decimation of the two security teams as a pair of whirling dervishes shot through the room taking down man after man.
He groaned softly and wiped some blood from his eyes, shards of glass fell from his hair unto the floor behind him, he heard a soft noise near him and turning his head he had his mind blown by the sight of a ravishing redhead that seemed to have slipped on some papers on the far side of the desk.
"Hey handsome!" she flashed a beaming smile at him waving her tactical gloved hand at him, it was a gorgeous smile, full of promise. Still dazed, He found himself smiling back," Heyyyy…NO!" Her smile vanished as her other hand came into view, this one held a silenced Glock…PHUT!... and for the second time in minutes poor Aaron's mind was blown, this time in a more permanent fashion as a 9mm bullet tore through his cranium!
Carina Miller smiled grimly to herself, kipping up she immediately flipped into a cartwheel grabbing a throwing knife off her vest and throwing it into the throat of another agent she spotted drawing a bead on her, the stunned agent didn't even scream, the blade made that impossible, they slowly hit the ground with a gurgle. "…and baby makes five." She murmured to herself. She ejected her spent magazine and reloaded spinning to a sound behind her as John Casey dropped into the room, rolling across the floor, and coming to a crouch behind an upturned desk.
She sighed, "You can relax Casey, we cleared the room..." He poked his head over the desk and took in the surrounding carnage, standing he marched right over to her, "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?" He yelled; Miller blinked at the sheer volume.
There was a scuffling sound from behind them both and they turned to see Sarah Walker dragging what looked like an analyst to a terminal, reaching down she picked up a chair and slammed the man into it, stepping back she put the business end of her silenced S&W into his right ear, wide-eyed the terrified man looked at her.
Casey looked at Miller, she shrugged. "I'll talk to you both later!" he promised, they walked over. They could hear Walker… "…Irving Bartowski…. got it?!" the icy tone left no room for error as the man concentrated on the keyboard and screen in front of him. "…nothing…we have nothing on him…" Casey groaned in frustration, well at least he now knew what the hurry was, Walker was running a side mission.
The analyst having accomplished his task looked expectingly at the blonde agent, "…you said you'd let me live if I…" PHUT! The man's head exploded in a pink mist as he slid to the floor.
Casey's forward momentum faltered as he realised the shot had come from beside him, Miller calmly reloaded another magazine, Casey thought he was going to bust a blood vessel! "Miller! What the fu…!" Her sudden intense glare cut him off, "Come on Casey, there's no way we could let him go after asking about Chuckles, you know that!"
He realised she was right; Fulcrum couldn't be allowed to know why they were interested in Bartowski. Still, his mouth opened and closed comically for a moment as he tried to acknowledge that and still give out over the actions of the two agents.
He was spared by a barrage of rounds that smashed through the inner corridor office windows causing all three agents to duck, "I thought you cleared…"
"The room John," Walker said, cutting across him, "not the floor, we got two of the three Fulcrum security teams, we left you one." Casey started to complain about that when it sunk in, GUNPLAY! He gloated as he peeled a special mini grenade off his tactical vest that he'd fashioned just for situations like this, he casually lobbed it into the corridor, it skittered along the floor causing a scramble among the remaining security team as they dove for cover.
With the explosion the big man gracefully launched himself into corridor drawing his sidearm he took off after the remaining survivors, his face was lit with glee! Bodies by Leavenworth! His mood improved.
Back at the office, Sarah Walker slumped against the desk as she slid to the floor, her face showing her hurt at yet another dead end in her hunt for Chuck Bartowski, she wiped at her eyes. The long legs of Carina Miller casually rocked beside her as she sat on the edge of the desk, her hand touched her friend's shoulder in a show of support.
"It's good news at least Blondie…"
"HOW? How is it good news Carina? I can't see the good in this…" Carina's hand tightened on Walker's arm as she pulled the blonde up to face her. "HEY?!", exclaimed the younger woman in annoyance.
"For God's sakes, Walker, we found nothing, so at least Fulcrum doesn't have him, or we'd be burying his tortured remains right now, and that's assuming Beckman wouldn't organise an airstrike to ensure he was …dead…" She trailed off.
Sarah looked at her friend, she knew she was right, Carina had let some emotion creep into her voice at her last statement, Sarah knew the other agent had liked Chuck too, in her own way, despite her promises to do him bodily harm on sight!
"Sorry Red, it's just… I miss him…" The two women looked at each other. There was a soft sound behind them, they both spun drawing their guns and stopped…
Bryce Larkin stood there looking at them both with narrowed eyes, he had slipped into the room quietly, Casey's gunbattle covered his approach, he had listened to the conversation, he was finally able to confirm his suspicions regarding Sarah's lack of interest towards him and he was not happy!
"Glad you could finally join us Larkin, some days I just don't know what we'd do withoutyou…oh wait…" Carina sneered, as she looked around the room.
Larkin refused to bite; he kept his eyes locked on his former partner as she turned an equally frank gaze on him. Before that gaze might have held affection, something, now it just showed nothing, not even contempt. He could have settled for that, at least it would have been some form of emotional engagement.
He pushed past them both and sat down at the terminal and began attaching various CIA/NSA communications devices for downloading to Castle servers. Casey reappeared, Hawkins was beside him, "Sir, we've accounted for all the Fulcrum station personnel, the heavy vans for the hardware removal are inbound ETA 10 minutes and the cleaners are downstairs waiting for permission to start."
Casey grunted his approval, Hawkins took off, he drew his mobile and dialled in, it rang once and was answered, "Beckman secure. Report", the General sounded testy.
"Casey secure. Success, scratch another Fulcrum base, Larkin is currently preparing the downloads now and we should have the hardware available for further analysis within the next two hours."
There was a pause. "Any other information Colonel?" Casey rolled his eyes, did every woman have an interest in the moron?
"No Ma'am, Agents Walker and Miller determined that Fulcrum have no information regarding the former asset." Again, a pause. "That's interesting." At the far end of the line Diane Beckman's mind was racing. He was still out there!
She was thoughtful, they had had some successes, but the information Larkin provided was not as detailed or as important as Bartowski's had been, a superior mind yielded superior results, but it was better than nothing she guessed.
She was happy also to note the new team despite its teething problems had settled down, meetings convened at her request showed some interesting seating arrangements at Castle, Casey, fore square and centre in front of his people with Miller and Walker sharing one table with a glaring Larkin at another. She didn't need to ask….
She had a meeting with Emerson scheduled for later, she was eager to see his overseas reports more than ever now, "OK Colonel, if Larkin finds anything useful contact me immediately, Beckman out."
She hung up, sitting back in her seat she contemplated the day ahead, good news, the latest mission had been a success, Bartowski had kept his word, the latest Intersect intel had led them to the Fulcrum station, from what she could see on her screen from Larkin's initial download they had garnered enough intelligence to keep her analysts busy for weeks. Bad news… well the big one was always the spectre of Bartowski, out there somewhere, with everybody's secrets in his head.
They had made some progress against the faceless group he had aligned with; they had purged their computer systems and hopefully disabled any further surveillance from Bartowski's friends.
That reminded her, she checked her schedule, yes. The meeting with the new supplier was also today, her Cyber security unit had beta tested the new program, it had far exceeded her expectations, she knew Emerson's people had also passed it based on their needs. The DNI Director should be pleased with their reports, they had cleared the way for the Government National procurement body to make a generous offer.
She shook her head, even though the due diligence had passed with flying colours, it stung her a bit that their problems had been solved by an external source, Irish Japanese company, or companies, she corrected herself, she just hoped this Archangel was all it was cracked up to be...