Chuck vs The Wayward Legionnaire
Book 2: Water.
Chapter 1: The Sea is cold…\Thieves like us.
09th February 2010. Sevastopol Naval Base, Crimean Peninsula, 03:00hrs.
It was a cold night in the harbour, the naval base was quiet, the water lapped gently against the quay walls, sentries patrolled the area, Seaman Timur Petrov was one, he wrapped his greatcoat more tightly around him, the night had been long, he had smoked the last of his Ronsons an hour ago, he was hoping it was Grisha Solovev that was leaning up against the wall ahead of him, he normally had the good stuff, some Rothmans.
The foreign cigarettes were always better than the home brand muck, and Grisha was single, he could afford to splash out.
He drew closer to the other man, he kicked a stone towards him, nothing!
Lazy svoloch must be sleeping, he grinned, the Major would have his arse for that, he considered how he could parley the situation into making Solovev give them to him for free. He was no snitch, but he could always hint.
"Hey asshole, wake up!" he said good naturedly as he drew level with the still man, he reached out to shove the other back to the land of the living.
He was surprised when Solovev folded and hit the ground with a solid thud!
Had the fool been drinking also? He knelt quickly beside the other man, "hey Grisha, wake the fuck up, the Major…."
Grisha's eyes were open but seeing nothing, Timur's breath grew rapid, plumes of vapor appeared in the air, that's when he knew Solovev was dead. He never saw the shadow detach itself from the wall behind him.
The urban camouflage was perfect, slowly the figure crept up behind Timur, there was a quick glance around and then they pounced.
If there was any consolation, it was over fast, Timur felt the presence behind him, but it was too late, a strong arm coiled around his neck pulling his head back against the silenced .22 than made barely a whisper as it performed its function and the small bullet entered through the nape and bounced around the inside of Timur's skull, extinguishing his life abruptly.
The attacker held the lifeless body upright as they tore a piece of masking tape off the cuff of their uniform, they had put it there earlier, it was placed on the wound, sealing it and preventing blood loss and a mess.
Timur was propped up against his former friend and the figure stood back, happy with their handiwork they stepped to the edge of the Harbour wall, facing seaward they took a small UV torch from their utility belt and a sequence of flashes were beamed out. Around the immediate vicinity other figures came forth from the darkness.
They waited.
In the water below, a small 'v' could be seen as if some aquatic animal was drawing near, the figures didn't see this, their attention was focussed on their surrounding area, they were the sentries now.
Cautiously, a group of about 10 others surfaced beside the wall and quickly scaled the old ladder that fastened there, they approached the crouching others, a series of hand signals was seen, and they moved quickly towards the pens. Their prize awaited, they moved unhindered, they had already disposed of the human obstacles.
The target was exactly as they expected to find it, the group quickly split into two, one made immediately for Engineering, splitting further as some made for the nuclear power section, the rest checked for the cargo, they smiled as they saw the long cylinders.
They moved on to Main Engineering and began the process of returning life to the floating ship.
The other group had made for the Conning tower and the control room, on the way they had cast off the mooring ropes, now adrift but still in its pen, the large submarine waited patiently for its crew to give it purpose.
Inside the Conning tower, various instruments were quickly activated, the men took their places and performed their equipment checks, start-up procedures were efficiently enacted, soon the low rumble of the reactor and its power build up could be felt, eyes followed gauges and readouts.
They were experts, a normal sailing took at least a few hours to safely proceed, they were underway in just over one, outside the men that had finished their assigned tasks had stood guard, they now quickly entered the hatches again as the craft cleared its moorings, dogging them, they returned to their stations.
The submarine moved slowly to the central shipping lane and as it reached the required depth silently dipped beneath the waves. They rigged for silent running, this journey would take most of the day, they were in no hurry though. They had succeeded!
…
Major Borya Makarov slid out of his bed, a cigarette was quickly in his mouth as he stepped across the room that was his quarters. He rubbed his head and waited for the nicotine to hit.
It was his honour to command the men that guarded the Russian Navy's latest toy, the Borei–class nuclear submarine, the replacement to the aging Typhoon class that had been the mainstay in the Cold war days.
He had just stepped into his toilet to relieve the pressure on his bladder when he suddenly realised the stillness that hung around the barracks, normally the duty officer should have been knocking politely on his door with the reports of the night watch, and the canteen should have been full of clanging pots and pans as the catering crew started the preparations for the breakfast!
Zipping up, he marched out, a vigour in his movements that hadn't been there before, he threw his tunic on and grabbed his officer's cap off the small desk and seat at the foot of his bed. He checked his watch. 07:20!
Something was seriously wrong, nobody slept it out on a military base, he quickened his pace.
He headed for the Duty Office, he grew more unsettled as he did so, by now he should have passed at least two sentries, he broke into a trot. He hit the office door hard, it shot open, he halted in surprise…
The Duty Chief Petty Officer was at his desk alright, but his assistance was unlikely to be forthcoming, he was dead!
Shocked, the Major felt one arm flailing about as he tried to hit the base alarm as his other inexplicably tried to shake the dead man awake… he succeeded in one task.
Outside the klaxon blared, in the various base personnel quarters' lights came on and soon the sound of racing feet approached the office.
Senior CPO Baranov stepped into the room, he snapped to attention and saluted.
"Sir! what's happening, is it a surprise drill…." His mouth snapped shut as his eyes finally registered the body on the floor.
Wide-eyed he approached the Major, Makarov shook his head, "Baranov, grab some men and check …. everything. NOW!"
Baranov didn't hesitate, he turned on his heel and left the room, Makarov heard him call some names and run off.
He searched the duty officer's desk, where was it? Aaah, he found the red book, opening it, he quickly scanned for the right number, Central Command, grabbing the phone he quickly dialled, it was answered in seconds, he gave a summary of the situation, the voice listened.
He was placed on hold, he waited, Baranov came sprinting back, "they're all dead Sir! All of them and the prototype… it's gone, Sir!"
Makarov felt the sweat build on his forehead as the two men stared at each other, "Do a role call, see if it's just the sentries…."
"Sir!" replied Baranov, he left the room again.
A new voice spoke up in the phone receiver, "Report". Makarov gulped, there was no return now, haltingly he added to his prior summary. There was silence from the far end and then…
"Remain at your post until you are relieved Major, no-one is to enter or leave the base, understood?"
The response to authority was automatic, "Yes Sir!"
"Help is on the way." the line went dead.
Makarov sat; it was out of his hands now.
….
The voice, picked up another phone, and from there another, all the way up to the General Staff, a meeting was swiftly convened, and the Directorate of Special Operations was ordered to take control of the situation, a phone call was made, and orders were sent to 5th Spetsnaz Brigade at Belarus…
….
Back at the base, the C.O. had arrived, the armed men at the gate were the first to suffer the ire of the hungover Admiral as he was denied entry to his base, a fact he kept screaming at the young seamen that stood fast in front of his ZiL.
Finally Major Makarov arrived.
"Admiral Orlov, I had no idea you were here Sir!" He shoved the guards out of the way. Red-eyed and red-faced Orlov turned towards the younger Officer, "Makarov!", he bellowed, "What in hell's name is going on?"
The Major blanched but dutifully gave his report, the Admiral's reaction to his subordinate's actions were met with a nodding head until Makarov informed him that he had notified the Central Command.
With a fury he rounded on the unfortunate Makarov, "You bloody fool! What have you done! You killed us all!"
That was not the reaction Makarov had anticipated, no, he had thought maybe a few words of praise for his quick thinking, not the pallid and shocked expression that now overtook the Admiral's face.
Orlov jumped back behind the wheel of his car, he spun the car in a tight circle, just in time to face a convoy of large Ural-4320 carriers bearing down on him. Too late…
He sighed and cut his engine, the first carrier stopped, and an Officer jumped out, despite his rank of Lt. Colonel, the Admiral knew who was really in charge, not him, at that moment, a large older man in a black greatcoat was helped down from the back by several of the troops as they disembarked to fan out behind the carrier.
Slowly, he made his way towards them, despite his physicality, his eyes were alert as he constantly scanned the area, there was a small nod to the Lt. Col. who deferred and stepped back, allowing the man to speak to the other officers.
Orlov waited, he had noticed what Makarov had not, the unit flashes were conspicuously missing from their shoulder patches on their BDU's, he didn't need to see them or the faces of the men, he knew Spetsnaz when he saw them, his guess would be Alpha Group, or GRU Spetsgruppa "A", and even if he was wrong about that, he definitely knew the identity of the man in front of him now, Zhabin Mikhailovich, the feared former head of the Second Chief Directorate, they were fucked.
"Gentlemen", he acknowledged them, "may we retire to your office, Admiral?"
To anybody else it sounded like a request, to the Admiral's ears it was a death knell.
He smiled, "But of course, Direct…."
"Zhabin, call me Zhabin," he also smiled, he looked like someone's idea of Santa Claus, until you saw his eyes. Cold and lifeless. The man that had formerly overseen his country's counterintelligence and internal political control section had taken the measure of many brought before him in such circumstances, and that morning, yet again, he found them wanting.
Still, proprieties had to be observed.
"Colonel," the Spetsnaz officer stiffened, "could you see to the rest of the men, while I confer with these officers?"
"Yes Sir!", he turned to his men and barked a few orders, they immediately began moving the base personnel towards the large Mess hall area.
Several Mi-24W attack helicopters appeared in the sky and made their way towards the base. They settled into a holding pattern, swooping around the sky above the base. All was in order, thought Mikhailovich, well that was why he was here, wasn't it? To establish order.
There were some landing craft boats making their way towards the docking areas, it was quite impressive, but they weren't stopping to sightsee.
As they entered the office the Admiral went straight for his filing cabinet, he produced a large bottle of Green Mark vodka, it was a true Russian brand, he poured a large glass, after a mouthful he seemed to remember his 'guests' and with his free hand indicated the other glasses, Makarov seemed scandalised, and shook his head.
Zhabin hesitated and then took a glass, the Admiral poured a generous measure, and Zhabin took a mouthful, it took the chill from outside away but not that familiar chill inside, no, there was nothing made for that.
Realisation had finally dawned on Major Makarov and tears started falling from his eyes, Zhabin watched him for a moment, he turned to Orlov, "he didn't know?"
Orlov shook his head.
Zhabin grimaced, unfortunate, but ignorance was no defence.
"Knew what?", Makarov knew his future was only a matter of minutes, but he wanted to know why.
"The Alexander Nevskly was not as important as its contents….", there was still puzzlement on the Major's face, "…twenty SLBM's …"
The Major went grey, "I think I'll have that drink now…" Orlov filled another glass. Why not? The condemned usually had some form of final request granted.
The former KGB head had gone to the window he watched as the Col. and his men exited the Mess, they unthreaded the PBS-1 silencers on their Kalashnikov AKMB assault rifles and replaced spent magazines. The Col. looked over at the window and nodded. He then grabbed a body bag like his men and went back inside the building.
Zhabin finished his drink, behind him the Admiral did too, He caught Zhabin's eye, his face a mix of hope and despair, "I don't suppose you could do a favour…?" Phut!
His body hit the floor, his forehead had grown a third eye, Makarov had time to whimper before the 9mm GSh-18 spoke again and he joined his former superior.
Messy business, Zhabin thought, he poured another glass, there was a rap on the door, the Col. and two of his men entered, they said nothing, rolling out two fresh body bags it was a matter of moments before each man placed the bodies inside, easily picked them up and left the office.
"We'll wait at the carriers, sir." Zhabin nodded. It would be a short journey, a forest, he'd performed this duty many times. By now the earth movers would be finished, they would have begun their task long before he ever arrived at the base.
There was another knock at the door, Without looking around he said "Enter." Another Admiral appeared, outside on the parade ground, the new men for the base had assembled, the landing crafts that brought them there was speeding away from the docking areas.
"Admiral Ivan Isakov, welcome to your new command!"
"Thank you, sir." In truth Isakov had no idea whom he was addressing, but the speed by which his new orders had arrived this morning had the officer on red alert.
Zhabin motioned with his hand and Isakov joined him at the window, what the sailors on the parade ground couldn't see, he could see quite clearly, the masked men of the elite unit bringing the last of the now filled body bags to the troop carriers. His eyes widened in shock.
Zhabin's voice startled him, "Mistakes were made, I trust you will run a tighter ship?"
Ivan nodded; a sudden chill shot down his spine. He didn't even ask why, he just watched as the other man finished his drink and left.
His breathing didn't settle until he watched the last of the carriers depart the Mess area and disappear from sight.
…..
Out on the road the carriers set an easy pace, they had only one more task to perform, disposal.
Half an hour later they found the forest and then the trail, it led to an old quarry, two men waited with massive earth movers, a large pit could be seen, the trucks stopped, and the men began carrying the remains to the edge and unceremoniously dropped them in, the thuds made the drivers look away.
As the final body hit the bottom, they had disappeared, annoyed the Col. turned to his men, to ask them to fetch them, some nearby bushes rustled, then the heavy SMGs opened up, the soldiers never stood a chance, the heavy calibre bullets tore them to shreds as they fell back into the very pit they had just filled.
The two 'drivers' appeared, they drove the troop carriers into another large pit that had been unseen, satisfied, they quickly mounted their movers and pushed the piles of dirt back in on top of both holes, once they accomplished that they drove backwards and forwards flattened the area out, in a few weeks' nature would reclaim her domain.
Zhabin waited while they drove the earth movers back to the place, they had 'borrowed' them from.
There were two of his most trusted men, it was a pity, but the old ways of dealing with problems were the best, twenty SLBMs, with a total of twenty warheads each was a serious amount of ordinance to lose. There was no way the General Staff could afford any loose tongues.
He smiled as he remembered a moment from his younger days, he had travelled to the heart of his former enemies capital, Washington, at an Embassy function he had been introduced to a garrulous US State department official who had explained the great democracy they enjoyed in the US including their Freedom of Information Act, Mikhailovich had listened in astonishment as the drunken man explained how anybody could request classified information on any subject that crossed their mind.
With a smile he asked the former Soviet if they had any such procedures for dealing with such requests.
"In my country, in Moscow, we had a facility in the Meshchansky District, the Lubyanka, ah, I see you have heard of it?" The US official nodded, "…good, well we used to store our secrets there, and if you were found in the vicinity, we shot you, we also shot your family and most of your friends, just to be sure…" The smile fell off the other man's face, "…some we left alive, just so others could know that state secrets are a dangerous business…we found it most effective…"
Yes, the old ways are best. Zhabin looked up as a car approached, his men had returned, it was an official vehicle, fitted with a communications system, the handset buzzed as they drove off, he answered.
"Is it done?"
"Da, it …" The explosion lifted the car off the road and down the face of the cliffside, burning on the way down it further exploded on impact at the base.
High above the forest the drone hovered, it rained its other missiles down on the remains of the former Zhabin Mikhailovich and his men. Its cameras zoomed in on the burning wreckage, after ten minutes of silently observing for any activity, it received a signal and self-destructed. Apart from the cawing of the disturbed birds, silence reigned again.
….
Back in Moscow, at the Directorate of Special Operations a lone man closed the laptop program that had controlled the drone, he opened another and after a half hour of typing, he printed out his report, selecting a large envelope he marked it for the attention of the Premier's office.
He summoned a courier, there would be no electronic transmission for the Americans or British to follow, they had too much respect for the foreign code breakers. No, the old ways were best….
At the Premier's office his assistant read the contents and reported, the Premier sat satisfied, the idiot president that had just assumed power in Ukraine would be the ideal patsy if the missing warheads ever surfaced, this played well into his plans to annex the former Soviet satellite and its naval base.
He had been enraged by the former president and his demands for preferential gas rates using the Naval base as a negotiating tactic. Now he had the means to force a solution, the rest of the world be damned. He paused though, the question remained, who had done this? Where was his submarine?
Was it the madman in the compound outside Moscow, that lunatic had been livid at the failure of the Fulcrum plot and subsequent exposure. If not, who then, and what was their plan? The situation had raised questions the Premier could ill afford to answer. He would quietly direct the FSB to dig for information, meantime, he had a country to run.
…..
One of the answers to his questions had travelled fast, against international Law they had ran the submarine submerged through the Turkish Straits, now they approached their final destination.
The weather had been imperfectly perfect, as they surfaced it was a moonless and cloudy night on the Mediterranean Sea, they were far to the south of Corsica, and Sardinia, they waited in the dark, suddenly, there was a foaming on the surface of the sea as something massive rose from the depths, its structure was huge, even the stationary submarine was dwarfed by it, radar dishes deployed on its surface and a tracking system kept careful watch on the skies above.
The planning had been impeccable, but nothing was left to chance, two massive doors opened in the base, smaller ones too and a fleet of patrol boats as well as a pair of tugs emerged and quickly sped towards the waiting craft.
Practised hands quickly attached tow ropes and within minutes they entered between the now closing doors that sealed them in, there was a low rumbling as the undersea platform slowly descended beneath the waves again.
Inside, the submarine was quickly docked, the crew opened the outer missile hatch doors on the body and waiting engineering crew got to it, the missiles were unloaded, they were carefully stored and then the work on the launch mechanisms began, they were to be disassembled and brought to new homes.
In the control room watching the progress the hooded, robed man watched impassively, any that approached were intercepted by the giant that stood behind him, Mr. Lasky. At 7 ft 1 inch like a Greek statue of old, he resembled a form of demigod, his musculature was heavily defined, but he was light on his feet though, it bespoke of serious training, his movements were deliberate, as if he was restraining himself against the world around him.
As amazing as his body was, unfortunately his face was rather plain, thuggish was the word that sprang to mind and the many crew that moved around the command centre did their best to avoid his gaze, questions were answered promptly, fearfully at times.
The hooded man from time to time cocked his head as he listened to Lasky deliver some news, some shivered as they heard the muffled replies from beneath the hood, it sounded like the voice was trying to speak through muffled layers of wet cloth, it didn't sound … human.
Lasky didn't appear to mind, what passed for a smile occasionally lit his face, as he responded to the other's voice.
The hours dragged on, eventually the seated figure stood, their hands appeared from beneath the robes, the crew barely paused, they had seen it before, the hands that appeared vaguely resembled normal ones, they glistened in the light as the scales caught the light, but as the fingers parted the webbing could be seen…
They focused their attention back on their screens, nobody looked, as the figure in the company of Mr. Lasky made their way to the huge moon pool at the base of the undersea platform, a very futuristic submersible waited.
It quickly dived beneath the platform after they entered, the figure sat in a high command chair and watched as the water darkened, deeper and deeper they went.
The darkness became absolute, the depth gauge creeped slowly downwards, 1000m then 2000. then 3000m, Lasky was at the controls, he levelled out following a course, the sonar pinged their position and filled another screen with a 3D rendering of their external environment.
Mountains and undersea valleys were all around them, they continued until finally a massive plain appeared, the craft halted, a signal was sent off.
As if a giant curtain had been suddenly lifted, the bottom of the sea became a carpet of light, a huge city was revealed.
Turning in his seat, Lasky grinned to the other, "Welcome home Lord Autokhthon, welcome back to Atlantis!"
The figure stirred, that inhuman voice spoke, "thank you, Mr. Lasky, you have performed well, our plans are proceeding as expected…."
…
20th April 2010. Buy More parking lot. Burbank. 2pm
John Casey and his team approached his former 'employment', he felt a mix of emotions stirring, there was no denying the old memories that darted through his mind, he focused, damn lady feelings…
The shock revelation that Niamh Kavanagh's shared video had started in Dublin, rippled across the Atlantic, the impact had been almost immediate. A hasty examination of Morgan Grimes activities over the past few months had been ordered by a furious General,
There had been plenty of red faces when it came to light that her subordinates had rolled the dice and decided to forgo the surveillance that had previously encompassed the bearded one.
With no positive intel regarding communication between the two former friends and dwindling resources the decision had been made to concentrate on the other Bartowski sibling, it appeared that had been a colossal mistake.
Several desks now lay empty at NSA headquarters, their former occupants on reassignment. The General had not been forgiving.
A quick check was made on Grimes whereabouts, it took only a phone call to the HPD offices in Honolulu to discover that he had never made it to the Benihana Chef's course in Hawaii, they had a record of him boarding a plane in L.A. and then nothing.
Casey and Larkin had immediately wondered if he was hiding out at his old employment, it had been the loci of so many of the moron's escapades it seemed the fitting place to start, plus his new stepfather was a possible source of information.
Casey sneered, he didn't think it was going to take anything more than a box of Dunkin' Donuts or a meatball Subway to get his former 'boss 'jabbering away. The idiot was probably going to try and offer him his old job back.
No fear of that, he'd rather have endured capture by the Taliban or the security goons down in Costa Gravas, he found he was steeling himself as he entered the double doors, he blinked at the transition from inside to outside.
There were the usual idiots milling around playing their stupid games, why if he'd had his way…" OUCH!" The Nerf dart that had bounced off his head rolled on the ground beside his foot.
Larkin had entered behind him, he started to laugh when another dart caught him in the forehead, knocking his expensive Ray-Bans off. "HEY!" exclaimed the shocked spy.
Casey almost laughed, he glanced around for the source of the offending articles, then he noticed the quiet, it was a hostile quietness, it set his teeth on edge…
He glared over at the Nerd Herd desk only to be surprised at those two idiots Jeff and Lester glaring right back! He watched as Jeff chambered another dart and with an unnerving smile, pointed the toy gun right at him!
"Now wait a min…. OWWW! you motherfu…." There was a deluge of darts in the air suddenly. Then a voice spoke. It was Big Mike, and he wasn't anymore happier sounding than Casey was in pain.
"Hello Colonel Casey, could you stop bothering my staff and bring Agent Larkin to my office…NOW!"
Casey whipped his head around, his hands dropping from his face as he took in the expression of the man in front of him, then he realised how Mike Tucker had addressed him, by his official rank and Larkin's Agent status…
He seethed; this was not going how he anticipated it would. With a final glare at the now surrounding staff of the Buy More, he motioned to Larkin to follow him.
Across the mall at Castle, Sarah Walker watched as things went to shit.
It had seemed promising, the sighting of Chuck and Morgan, she had hurried back to L.A. to make her report, Casey hardly had time to sneer at her new look courtesy of that Irish…. bitch, when the General had popped up, things had moved fast after that.
Considering her battered appearance, it was only logical that Casey and Larkin made the approach, now she looked nervously around the main room and wished Carina was here, she felt useless, for a woman of action she hated ceding control, but orders were orders. Even Casey had been short with her.
"…. look Walker, it's for the best, with you out of the picture, this makes you our ace in the hole!".
She had to admit he was right, even if she had a nagging feeling she had missed something. She tried to concentrate on the unfolding events, she switched her view to the camera in Tucker's office.
The picture changed on the screen, "Oh shit…."
Back at the Buy More, Casey heard Walker's words, he shared a puzzled look with Larkin, they followed Tucker into his office and then they saw why.
A distinguished looking elderly gentleman sat in Tucker's seat, that was surprising, but what disturbed Casey the most, was the phalanx of men and women in bespoke suits and business attire that screamed LAWYER! that were standing behind him.
"Hello Colonel Casey, I'm Moses Finkelstein and I believe you've been conducting operations at my store, which I'm pretty sure is illegal as the CIA and NSA are strictly forbidden to operate in the US. Is that not so?"
The faces of the lawyers grew grimmer as if daring the NSA agent to challenge that statement. In a rare moment of clarity, Casey decided to hold his tongue. With Walker watching, chances are, she'd be on the horn right now to the General or the head FBI Office.
Finkelstein spoke again, "I believe you're here regarding two of my other former employees, Mr. Chuck Bartowski and his colleague and my manager's stepson, Mr. Morgan Grimes. My lawyers have informed me that due to your illegal activities that you will now be served with a barring order from my corporation and all its premises and to refrain from harassing Mr. Tucker or any of the Burbank Buy More staff unless you wish to disclose your reasons in a court of law."
Casey's face twitched, his brain wanted to scream national security, but he wasn't a legal eagle, he watched as a stern-faced woman produced a ream of official looking court orders and presented them to Larkin who promptly started to skim through them.
Casey decided to remain silent, less said in front of these corporate flesh-eating vampires the best, no need to make the hole deeper.
As Larkin finished reading, Casey saw another figure appear at the door. It was FBI SAIC Wilson, and he did not look happy!
"Ah, the FBI, Agent Wilson, I believe? Good, my lawyers would like a word…"
Wide-eyed Wilson watched as those lawyers descended on him like a zombie horde in a George A. Romero film. Casey groaned aloud and sat down, how the fuck had this happened?
…
Several blocks away in another carpark sat the mobile base of Mike Travers, he was piggy backing on the governments tap of the Buy More security cameras and following events as they happened. He had a very good idea of what was happening and why….
….
As soon as Sarah Walker had made her report en route to the US, Janus had immediately gone into action. In their Dublin Hotel bedroom Mike's mobile phone had blasted the last tone he ever wanted to hear in his lifetime, the red alert of Star Trek the original series, his feet had hit the floor before his body even realised, he was awake.
He popped open his laptop as Maria moaned at the sudden loss of her bed partner, he rubbed her calf to reassure her as his screen opened and a multitude of smaller boxes appeared, audio, video, Walker's already written reports, all snared as she flew across the Atlantic in a CIA jet.
This was serious. Maria must have realised something was wrong, Mike felt her arms wrap around his torso and her concerned face appeared over his shoulder, her bare breasts rubbing into his back paused him for a moment and he leaned back to nuzzle her neck, she purred in pleasure, she kissed him quickly and then slipped behind him as smaller video screens opened with Dieter, Radcliffe and Akio appearing in them. They too had been pulled from their slumber.
They quickly divided up the work, Mike listened to the audio recording of Walker's conversations with Col. Casey, then his with Beckman and Emerson, Akio read her reports and any queries she had initiated regarding Morgan Grimes and his current whereabouts, that was heartening, she was assuming he had already left Ireland.
Radcliffe and Dieter watched the video of the nightclub encounter, there was a groan from Morgan Grimes who had been staying with Paul and Dieter in the German's Dublin apartment.
"They're never going to leave him alone, are they?"
The others stayed focussed on their work, but it was Morgan that saw it first, "You know, now they know I know….", Dieter stopped his typing, the look of horror on his face was evident as he extrapolated on Morgan's supposition.
The others had too, Mike said it for them, "We'll need to act fast, they're probably going to be systematic and go for you first Morgan, after that…"
Morgan smiled. "Yeah, they probably will, we need to slow them down, give them something else think about while you do your thing…Dieter?"
The German looked at Morgan, "Yes?"
"Any way you can use your wizardry to help me make an untraceable call to this number?" He showed Dieter a number on his new mobile phone. Dieter smiled, "Piece of cake…what are you thinking Morgan?"
Morgan told them. They grinned, Oisin would be proud.
Mike was on a hired private plane out that morning with Maria. He sat awake in the cabin, Maria curled up beside him, like a mantra, the words kept running through his mind, we have time, we have time, we have time….
…
It took several rings but eventually even the likes of Big Mike answered a call early in the morning, Bolonia stirred beside him but didn't waken, he threw on a bathrobe and walked to the bathroom. "You better have a damned good reason for disturbing my sleep!" he intoned darkly.
The voice on the other end surprised him, what they had to say even more so, stunned all he could do was listen, eventually he had to ask, "Are you stoned right now Morgan?" There was an outburst from the receiver that made him pull it away from his ear momentarily.
Finally, he hung up, it was unbelievable but as he thought about it more, it explained a lot of weird shit that had occurred in his store. Morgan had provided proof though, he dressed and half an hour later found himself standing in the employee's locker room studying an old locker room plan with a bunch of duplicate keys.
He stopped for a moment, what the hell was going on? He was a grown ass man with responsibilities, ten to one this was another scheme cooked up by Morgan and those other two hare brained idiots, Jeff and Lester, he snorted to himself and looked for the hidden camera. A small voice in his head kept whispering to him though…but what if…
He sighed, he was already here, he looked the map again, found the door, he checked the number against the spare keys and in a moment found himself looking inside the now open locker.
Yep, it was Casey's, looks like it hadn't been reassigned since he left, there was a picture of Ronald Reagan just inside the door, what kind of freak…
He shook his head, an old work tee shirt hung on a hanger, it reeked, he threw that straight at a bin, a copy of Guns and Ammo sat at the back, as he moved it out of the way, he was stunned to see a keypad facing him, he remembered what Morgan had told him. The shock had made him forget something though.
He opened Google, Goddamned past presidents' birthdays…. he grunted as he found what he was looking for, reaching in he quickly keyed in the sequence, there was a beep and a hidden panel opened…
Five minutes later he sat at his desk as he counted one hundred thousand US dollars and had perused an assortment of foreign looking passports with one repeating feature, the unsmiling face of John Casey, that was unnerving, but not as much as the assortment of handguns he had piled up in front of them.
Casey like other agents had kept his emergency stash, figuring it would come in handy one day. With the war on Fulcrum heating up since Chuck's disappearing act, he'd forgotten about it…this one was about to bite him in the ass.
The shock soon passed for Big Mike, and he felt his anger build up, he'd been treated like a fool in his own store, karma was past due, he reached for his phone, he dialled the 24hr hotline number every store manager knew by heart to Corporate and waited for an answer… there was going to be a reckoning!
….
Casey tried first to browbeat the lawyers, Wilson did his best to help, but a cursory glance at the paperwork and he knew his hands were tied, this was going higher, he pleaded with Finkelstein to think of his patriotic duty.
The lawyers marched the Federal Agents to the locker room and opened Casey's in front of them, the look on Wilson's face as he saw the stash was frightening to the other two men. With a glare he reached in and grabbed the contents, a lawyer pressed an itemised list of the contents with pictures and a separate list of serial numbers for the money into his already full hands and Casey and Larkin found themselves protesting as they were escorted from the store by a very irate FBI agent.
Taking them to the alleyway he lacerated them for a full five minutes before he calmed down enough to answer his ringing mobile, whatever was said, was more than enough as far as he was concerned, he threw the lot at Casey's feet and climbed back into his car. The window rolled down and he informed Casey and Larkin of exactly the kind of help they could expect from their FBI colleagues, the language was colourful and coarse. He left in a squeal of burning rubber.
"Well, that could have gone better."
Casey just glared at the other man as they made their way over to the security office entrance, a hail of nerf darts landed on and around them as if to heap more misery on the spies….
…
Below in Castle, Sarah Walker had finally started to remember something about her recent trip abroad, she mentally kicked herself for not catching it sooner, but she had been preoccupied with other thoughts…nerdish thoughts…
She remembered the rest of the conversation between herself and Carina after they had viewed Morgan in the video….
…..
"Well, it was only to be expected Walker…", Carina glanced at her again, keeping one eye on the road as they headed to the Embassy. Sarah repositioned the ice on a painful spot, "What do you mean, Carina?"
Miller looked thoughtful, "…his psych profile said he'd eventually meet with someone familiar, I guess Grimes was as good as any…"
Sarah nodded. It was a good analysis. But….
…
But why Morgan? That nagging feeling was back. Morgan… yes, he was Chuck's oldest and most loyal friend but his most important?
Casey appeared at the top of the stairs; he saw her face… "what is it, Walker?"
He was annoyed but she had that 'scent of nerd' look on her face, she had figured something out, she turned to look at him.
"It's Morgan…"
He chaffed, "Yes Walker, it was Morgan. What of it?"
"Morgan over Ellie?"
The emphasis wasn't lost on Casey, he found himself racing down the steps to the communications area, quickly he grabbed a commlink and dialled a number. Within five rings he slammed it back down and raced for the exit, shouting as he ran, "Get everyone to Echo Park!" Walker was on his heels.
They jumped in his Crown Vic, and he gunned the engine, for the second time in ten minutes the Mall was treated to the smell of burnt rubber from the squealing tyres of a government issued car as he tore out of the lot. Several black SUVs quickly followed in their wake.
….
There hadn't been any warning, one minute agents Wilde and Diamond had been checking their surveillance equipment for the days usual activities and then they were face down on their apartment floor, unconscious, their AC hummed quietly as it dispensed cool air and a little surprise Diego, and his cousins had installed over the Christmas while the agents were on leave.
It had been easy to fake an inspection of the buildings AC systems, and of course in one apartment a problem had been found, the replacement agents hadn't paid as much attention to the work as they should have done.
Across the yard, Ellie's burner rang once, she and Devon looked around their apartment for the last time, grabbing their go bags they quickly exited and made for the carpark, Maria sat in an SUV waiting for them, they hurriedly joined her and lay down on the large seats as she pulled away, they had only gone a few blocks when they saw her stiffen as the sounds of racing engines shot by them.
After a moment, Maria turned, "You can sit up now."
"If it's all the same to you, Maria, we're happy where we are." Devon replied, "How long to Mike's place?"
"About 10 minutes, he's already preparing the way."
On the seat beside her husband, Ellie slowly calmed down, she thought back to the night before when her mobile went off….
….
They had been watching a movie, without thinking she answered, "Sorry to disturb you, this is the Bamboo Dragon, just calling to confirm your order of Sizzling Shrimp for five…?"
Ellie had blanched, she managed to regain her composure, keeping her voice as normal as possible, she replied, "I'm afraid you have a wrong number."
"Oh sorry" the caller hung up. Ellie turned to a wide-eyed Devon, she curled into his side as she pulled out her burner, a text message already awaited her, peering over her shoulder, Devon could see, Tomorrow, one ring, car park, SUV.
Across the city, Mike Travers removed the oscillator that made his voice sound oriental. He watched as their NSA neighbours traced the call to check its origin was the Bamboo Dragon, that had been easy to spoof, seemingly satisfied they logged it and resumed their watch.
Travers smiled, it had been close, but they were ready, his only regret was it meant leaving the US for good, he listened to Maria explain that to Diego and their cousins, he joined them.
Eduardo and Javier had joined them all at Maria's apartment, there were unhappy looks as he entered the room.
He sighed, this was always the hard part, years ago when it was just him and Castor and Pollux against the system, life had been so much easier, he had a few entanglements but nothing serious, they stopped when he realised, he was hurting those who only cared for him.
This life was not for everyone, but now with Maria, she was everything, he could sooner go without a limb than lose her.
"Mike, is it true?" Javier wanted to know.
He nodded, "Yes, my friend's family, the doctors, are under threat, we must move them, unfortunately as I must tend to this myself, I'll have to go with them to ensure their safety…."
Javier was angry, "So, we are getting dropped, no more use to you …."
"Javier!" It was Maria, she let fly with a stream of Spanish that had his head hanging low.
Mike sympathised, he looked at the three men, now they were practically family to him. It had been quite an adventure, but his time in L.A. was over, still, he had a surprise for them.
"Diego, I promise that I will take care of Maria."
Across the room her sibling raised his face from the floor, "I know, Mike and yes, you have my blessing, ALL our blessings…!" He stared at his cousins as if daring them to dispute that.
Maria joined Mike, he continued, "I know you had some plans, and I want you to see them happen. This is a gift from myself and your sister…"
He handed the man a piece of paper, Diego was puzzled, "what is it, Mike?"
"Your new business banking account." He pulled out his laptop and found the bank's online site, stepping aside he motioned to the other man to access the account, there was a stunned gasp as the balance was revealed.
The two brothers hurried over to see, "Madre Dios!" exclaimed Javier. It was one million dollars. More than enough for their planned business.
Their faces shone with gratitude, they embraced Mike and Maria, "Just one thing, don't quit the hospital just yet" His voice betrayed his concern, "these people are very good at spotting co-incidences, ok? Wait for the assigned agents to be pulled, then leave a week or two after."
Javier and Eduardo nodded. Mike was clever, he thought of everything, they were going to miss him as much as their cousin.
Diego stood, "we better get the SUV checked out, Javier, go check Mike's RV, we don't need a mechanical problem tomorrow."
They knew he was right, time to go to work…
….
Back at Echo apartments the Crown Vic screeched to a halt and the two agents sprinted to the entrance of the courtyard, they drew their sidearms and carefully approached Casey's old apartment, Sarah found her eyes wandering to the door of Casa Bartowski however, it had been a long time.
They moved slowly to the door entrance, Casey peeked in through the side window, his heart skipped a beat as he saw his two agents, he observed for a moment, Diamond was face down on the floor by the counter, Wilde was sprawled in the centre of the room with a puddle of coffee around her body.
He watched their chests rise and fall, he breathed a sigh of relief, alive. Whatever took them down had been fast, he reckoned gas, there was no sign of trank darts.
There was a low whistle and he turned and saw Walker with her lock picks at the other door, there was a small click, she reached slowly up and turned the handle, he took up position on the other side, Walker stood back and kicked it open.
They instantly shot through the door, covering each other automatically, their eyes were everywhere, their familiarity with the residence played in their favour as they moved room from room. It was a wasted effort, nobody was home.
Relaxing, they waited for the rest of the strike team to arrive, holstering her gun, Sarah saw a mug on the table, it was still warm to her the touch.
"Looks like we missed them by minutes, Casey." He nodded, "I'll go and check the footage with the others, maybe we can see what happened to Ellie and Devon."
He didn't need to state the obvious, the room wasn't ransacked or showing any signs of struggle, the Woodcomb's had left of their own accord.
She heard hurried footsteps outside, they made straight for Casey's, Sarah started to check for any clues. She doubted she'd find any, but they needed to be thorough.
She walked slowly around the apartment, it only took moments for her to notice pictures that had been treasured by the family were gone, even recent ones, there was a shock as she checked the bin, all the ones of her and Chuck were there!
She felt a wave of hurt pass through her, putting them to one side she checked for anything else, there was nothing. She headed to the bedrooms, she hesitated outside Chuck's, steeling herself, she entered, there had been changes, Ellie and Devon had moved a few things in to create more space for them, she guessed.
Then she noticed what was missing, Chuck's Tron poster, that conveyed a message, he had loved that poster, it was his last connection to his father, if that was gone, he was never coming back. How had those NSA idiots missed that?
The biggest surprise came in Ellie and Devon's shared bathroom, a simple brown A4 envelope sat by the mirror, but that wasn't all, there was a wet bar of soap and a pile of used tissues in the wastebin, something rang a bell, she took the bin and opened the tissues individually, there was nothing, she held them up to the window. The strong daylight also revealed nothing.
She looked at the scene again, something…
Quickly her hand grasped the hot tap and opened it fully, it only took moments….
Meanwhile she opened the brown envelope, a photo was inside, her eyes widened in surprise as she took it out, it was Ellie and Devon's Irish Wedding!
Ellie looked stunning, Sarah felt her heart thud painfully, Devon was looking awestruck at Ellie as he embraced his wife, Chuck beamed as he stood behind his sister, popping up in the centre was Morgan Grimes, the happiness radiated from all of them. She had never felt so envious in her life.
She looked up again, the steam had done its work,
FUCK YOU BECKMAN
Sarah felt her eyes moisten, it was only three words but knowing Ellie as she did, she knew the rage behind that message, Ellie knew everything….
She broke for the door, Casey saw her coming as he entered, "Walker?" She didn't even pause, he didn't need to see her face, her voice quavered as she passed, "bathroom, steam…."
She was gone. Casey felt a sinking feeling start as he retraced her steps, finding her pictures in the bin prepared him better than her by the time he had entered the bathroom, the picture lay upside on the floor, he turned it over…
He spent a moment contemplating it, then he remembered what Walker had said, stepping to the sink, he turned on the hot tap again. Steam billowed.
"Chuck me…."
….
Ellie sat in the back of Mike's RV, they were out of L.A. en route to Bakersfield Municipal Airport, Beckman and her pet thugs could waste as much time as they wanted, they weren't going to Mexico, they weren't going to Canada either, Roisin had a chartered jet waiting for them to fly to Iceland, from there, Milan, from there Cardiff, and finally passage on the Holyhead to Dublin ferry.
The Ghosts were scrubbing their trail behind them. She held a new passport, Elaine and Davis Woodford were taking a break with some friends, after that, they were set to assume their duties in Mali in West Africa with Doctors without Borders.
She was going to miss her old life, but she needed to be near her brother, she had a lot of work to do. That damn Intersect needed to be dealt with and she had made some progress, besides she was going to tear her brother a new one over the events in France.
She looked out the window again, she wondered if her present had hit the mark, she wasn't vindictive…well not much. She grinned to herself, fuck you Beckman….
…
General Beckman's Office D.C. 11.30pm.
Diane Beckman took a long shallow from the glass in front of her, it had been a long day, one fiasco after another, Adams had been practically breathing fire by the time she and Tom Emerson had left the DNI's office.
The AG had paid Adams an earlier visit after the FBI Director had appraised his office of the situation, the President had been very unhappy.
There had been a multi-million-dollar settlement agreed with the US government and the Buy More Corporation, thank you very much. Finkelstein and his lawyers had driven a hard bargain for his silence.
He also insisted that the secret passageway between Castle and the staff canteen be sealed, the defence contractor had been contacted that afternoon and as she sat, they were hard at work pouring tons of fast setting concrete. Another small fortune wasted.
She cast her eyes around her office, she tried her best to ignore the cardboard box in the corner, but she knew she needed to release herself.
She prepared….
….
The two MPs slowly moved through the office area, the reports had been of loud noises, crashing and smashing, and what sounded like screaming coming from near the General's offices, they were wary, sidearms drawn, Fulcrum had everybody on edge…
THWACK! THWACK!
It was right ahead of them, the General's office, they moistened their lips, grim-faced they approached the door, bracing themselves for the worst!
They burst through the entrance, "FREEZE!"
They froze instead at the tableau before them, Diane Beckman was in the centre of the room, a large aluminium baseball bat above her head, the office was a shambles, it looked like a riot had happened.
There was broken glass everywhere, on the floor in front of the General's feet was a large white …. blow up …. something. The words Wham-it! could be seen on one side, on the other side, in large red crudely sprayed on letters the words DIE! BARTOWSKI DIE! could be seen… a K-bar knife was hanging loosely from a deflated section that might have been the head, several bullet holes with charred entry points could also be seen. No gun.
The General slowly turned to face the two men, she was somewhat dishevelled, her normally smart tunic hung open, as did the top two buttons on her shirt, her necktie had been pulled to one side, probably when the demand for air built up due to the exertions….
Her normal neat hairdo now hung around her face, stringy from the perspiration that dripped from her forehead, red eyes stared at them, she said nothing, just stared….
Nolan looked at Hopkins, they watched as her hands moved around the grip of the bat. They realised that they had both stepped back to the relative safety of the doorway.
Finally, Hopkins bit the bullet, "Well, everything looks in order here, Ma'am, we'll leave you to it…"
They didn't look back, they did not pass GO or collect two hundred dollars, instead they walked rapidly back to their workstations and as Nolan closed the door behind them, he locked it.
Hopkins was already powering up his desktop, within a few clicks he started typing, curious, Nolan walked over.
"Transfer request! Are you serious!?"
Hopkins turned and looked him in the eye, "you bet your ass I am, I want something normal, like a warzone! Iraq or… or Afghanistan… you know, somewhere were at least the monsters have the decency to look like monsters….!" He continued typing.
After a moment, Nolan sat down and started typing his own request, "…think we can be stationed together …?"
…
21st April. Castle. Burbank. L.A. 2am.
The others had long gone to their apartments, Casey had taken back his old place and Wilde and Diamond were gone, already reassigned.
The range echoed to the sounds of her gunfire as she poured her frustrations out on the paper targets that hung in shreds on the pulleys.
She popped a new magazine in and began firing again. After a few rounds she stopped. She moved to a spot where she knew there was no surveillance, and popping open her mobile phone she accessed her camera.
The wedding picture appeared, of course she'd made a copy, she hit edit and cropped everyone out but him… her blue eyes shone as she searched his…. her fingers softly caressed his face… Chuck…