A/N: Well, someone owns Chuck. I mean, I hope so, anyway.

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Casey was driving his Crown Vic to Castle and singing along to the music of the great Lead Belly, something he only did when he was alone. In the August heat the car's windows were closed, so he wouldn't be heard even at traffic lights. He was interrupted when one of his cell phones rang. Each of his phones had a different ring and he knew this one would be important. He immediately pulled the car to the side of the road and parked.

He didn't recognize the number, but that didn't surprise him. "Casey," he said when he took the call.

"Good morning, Colonel. This is Chira. Congratulations on your promotion," said Penthia Demetrios.

"Thank you, Ma'am," he said. Against Chuck's preference, he had provided his contact information to the Demetrios family to use in the event they obtained any useful information about Fulcrum while they pursued their bloody vendetta against the organization.

"We have some information and I need to meet with you immediately to pass it along. It is time sensitive."

"Chira, I can try to get to you as soon as I can, but if it's time sensitive perhaps it would be more efficient to relay it over the phone or a conference call or something."

"No, Colonel. We are in Los Angeles."

"Oh. Alright then. Just tell me where and when. I'll be there."

"Very well. Two hours from now. Mykonos Grill on Highland Avenue. It should be quiet at that hour."

"See you there."

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Mykonos Grill looked like a normal neighborhood place midway along a row of stores. It had a kitschy façade and a couple of shrubs framing the doorway. Casey entered the restaurant a few minutes early to look around. He didn't expect treachery from Chira and her family, but similar precautions had kept him alive so far. In this case, it turned out not to be necessary.

It was a medium size bar and grill with a few occupied tables. The fat man behind the bar said, "Colonel Casey?" The man had what Casey assumed was a Greek accent.

"Yeah."

He gestured with his head while putting beer bottles into the refrigerator. "Through there."

"Thanks," said Casey.

He moved through the indicated door. It was a smallish private room with a table and chairs as the only furniture. The walls were covered with prints that appeared to be the white painted walls of the houses on the Greek islands. Chira and Stavros stood from the table and welcomed him. As with the last time he saw her, she was wearing black. And her presence was no less powerful and commanding.

He shook hands with Stavros, but Chira pulled him in for a hug and kisses on both cheeks.

When they had sat back down at the table, she didn't waste any time getting to business. Casey found the lack of chit-chat refreshing.

"We interrogated a Fulcrum agent last night here in Los Angeles. She told us that the leader of Fulcrum, a person they call the Sachem..."

"Sachem?"

"Yes. I was not familiar with the word. Seems to mean boss or leader. Comes originally from the American Indians they say. Anyway, this is the first we learned of their internal structure... the leadership."

"Any idea who it is?"

"No. She didn't know. But that's what I wanted to talk to you about. She told us that the Sachem is having a large meeting with a number of his or her men the day after tomorrow. In the afternoon. We didn't get a specific time."

"Did you get a location?"

"Yes. Disneyland Hotel. One of the meeting rooms. She couldn't remember which one."

"Ok. That should give us enough to work with. We can stake out all of them. Put in surveillance and get what we need."

Stavros said, "Yes, we expected you would do that. But there's something else you need to know, Colonel. Castle Studios has been infiltrated by Fulcrum. We don't know how many or in what levels, but there are many Fulcrum agents there. Among other things, they are keeping an eye on you and your team. And it's not just your team. There's another team there that concerns them. Led by a big Irishman..."

"Fitz," said Casey.

"Yes, that's right. Your team and his are both being observed by Fulcrum. Please be alert," he said.

"Careful, Stavros. I'll think you like me," he said with a hard grin.

"Naw. But I do like Chuck and Sarah. Want to keep those two safe," replied Stavros with a grin of his own. "You'll have to be pretty clever to observe the Fulcrum meeting in the hotel."

"Want to send some of your guys to help? They won't be known to the Fulcrum agents. We could use some strangers on this operation, it sounds like."

"I wouldn't be opposed to joining forces, but we are leaving port this afternoon. Not leaving men behind in Los Angeles. We cannot help you. It's why this meeting was so urgent," said Chira.

"I understand. Can you turn over the woman who gave you this information? Perhaps with some of our drugs we can get a bit more out of her."

"She's dead. And we got from her all that there was to get. We are very good at what we do," said Chira grimly.

"Yeah. That's a good point. While I'm thinking about it, what ever happened to Delgado?"

"He lasted about six weeks. It was a very, very hard six weeks. When we were done with him, we threw him overboard in the middle of the Atlantic."

"Burial at sea," said Casey.

"No," said Chira. "He was still alive."

Unbidden, a shiver ran through Casey. "He got what he deserved," he growled.

"Indeed he did," said Chira.

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Some time later, sitting in Castle, Forrest cried, "OUR OWN PEOPLE? TRAITORS...FROM THE INSIDE? WHAT THE HOLY FUCK?"

"Yeah," said Sarah. "Our own people."

"I don't believe it," she said, shaking her head. Forrest was not taking the briefing on Fulcrum well.

"Believe it," said Bryce. "I was in deep cover with them for months. They are every bit as dangerous as Sarah is telling you. Our worst nightmare."

Forrest stared at Bryce for a long moment. "Deep cover?"

"Yeah. Hanging around with Delgado..."

"TOMMY DELGADO?"

"Yeah," said Bryce.

"Oh, sweet Jesus. This is … this is insane. And this is what you've been facing? This is why you've been stood up?"

"It's what we've been facing for almost a year now," said Sarah, deliberately not answering the second question. "Not all our missions, as you've seen, but many. The family Casey met with has been 'disappearing' Fulcrum agents and subjecting them to 'enhanced interrogation'..." said Sarah.

"Torture. They've been torturing the shit out of the people they took," said Chuck with distaste. "I'm pretty uncomfortable using information obtained that way. I told them we didn't want it."

"Why?" asked Forrest.

"Because torture is wrong," said Chuck. "I want nothing to do with it. We're the good guys. We don't get involved in that shit. The good guys don't do that."

"I think you and I are going to have to disagree about that, Chuck. In a fight like this, against an enemy like Fulcrum, we can't be too fastidious. All is fair. We have to win no matter what. An ugly win is still a win."

"Then disagree we will, Alex," he said. Turning to Casey, he said, "I don't want to make use of information obtained through torture, Case."

"I understand, kid. But the torture happened already. Nothing we do now can undo it. The Fulcrum agent they took is dead. Discarding a lead on the Sachem of Fulcrum won't bring her back or erase what she went through. But if we do use the information maybe we can be a step closer to shutting these assholes down."

"But if we use the information, we are justifying their behavior...after the fact," he said. "That just leads to more torture."

"Chuck," said Bryce, "I was on the receiving end of their torture. Thanks to you, only for a few hours." He saw the look Forrest gave him. "I'll tell you later." He turned back to Chuck. "Anyway, they talked to me. Your point would be valid if our refusal to use the information would in any way dissuade Chira and her people from continuing to use torture. But it won't. Trust me on this. They are doing it out of vengeance, not operational efficacy. They are going to be picking up Fulcrum people and torturing them to death regardless of what you decide to do here. The moral stand you want to take...as understandable as it is... won't accomplish anything meaningful. I wish it were different, but it's not."

"Other than assuaging your conscience somehow," said Forrest.

"And the leader of Fulcrum will still be a mystery to us," said Casey.

Chuck looked troubled. Finally, he said, "You've been quiet, Sarah. What do you think?"

"I'll support you regardless of the decision you make, you know that. It's a tough call. But I think they are right. I think, in this case, we would be making a mistake not to use the information we have been given. There's no benefit to be gotten by refusing to act upon it. As Bryce says, Chira will keep torturing no matter what you decide."

Chuck sat for almost a full minute with the balance of his team watching him. Sarah, Casey, Forrest and Bryce all watching and waiting.

He was the only one who failed to notice that the entire team was waiting for his decision to proceed or not.

Finally, he gave a long sigh and said, "Ok. Ok. Let's do it. I don't want to make a habit of it, but in this case it's probably the right call." He looked unhappy and Sarah took his hand.

"Good decision, kid. Chira tells me the Sachem is going to be at a meeting with his or her men at a meeting room at the Disneyland Hotel. Afternoon, day after tomorrow."

"Ok," said Chuck. "Let's see who booked those rooms." Chuck swiveled his seat to his computer and hacked into the hotel's computer system without any difficulty. "Wow, busy day. They have..." He pointed to the screen and moved his finger while counting a list. "...seven conferences booked for that afternoon. The Orange County Parks and Recreation. The National Association of Plastics Retailers. The Access to Justice Foundation. Rourke Industries. The Global Initiative for Justice. Metalworkers Union 228. And the Barrett-Thomas Wedding. Full house it seems."

"Yeah. But there's more, Bartowski. Chira told me that Fulcrum has infiltrated Castle Studios and has us under observation. Both us and Fitz and his guys."

"Can't be too surprised about that," said Chuck.

Sarah said, "So if we move on the hotel, they might notice and cancel the meeting. There goes our surprise. Shit."

"Exactly," said Casey. "I asked Chira for some help. Her guys wouldn't be recognized. We could use some strangers there. Some folks the Fulcrum agents aren't expecting. But since we don't know who they would recognize in the IC..."

"Disguises?" asked Bryce.

"Yeah. We'll have to do something like that...we have access to top notch specialists upstairs...but..." said Chuck. His eyes went faraway and he stared at nothing for a long moment.

"I know that look, Sweetie. You've thought of something," said Sarah.

"Weeellll, maybe. Some of you aren't going to like it very much, though."

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Chuck and Casey pulled the car up to the PowerMan Gym in Gooding, Idaho. It was a pleasant small city on the Malad River. They entered the facility to find a man in a tee-shirt at the front desk.

Chuck said, "Good afternoon. My name is Carmichael."

The man looked at Chuck without emotion and said, "OK. ID?"

Both Chuck and Casey showed him their ID. He checked it against the computer at the desk and seemed satisfied. "Hang on a second." He picked up a phone and spoke into it for a few moments. Another man came from the back and said, "Come with me, please, gentlemen."

Chuck and Casey walked past racks of weights and mostly empty treadmills and into a closed office in the back of the gym. The man with them opened a heavy filing cabinet with a combination lock and said, "Weapons and cell phones, please."

Chuck put his trank pistol and cell phone into the drawer. Casey put in his weapon, and his back-up weapon, and his cell phone next to Chucks.

The man gestured to Chuck's messenger bag. "Computer?"

"Yeah," said Chuck.

"In too, please."

"No. I need it. I'll disable wi-fi and bluetooth so it's not connected anywhere," he said.

"Yes. Do that." The man closed the filing cabinet and locked it. "You'll get your gear again on the way out."

Chuck took out the computer and disabled the connectivity as he had indicated. While he was doing that, the man rifled through Chuck's bag and was seemingly satisfied with what he found. Chuck showed the computer to the man.

Nodding his approval, the man said, "Very well. Keep it off when you are downstairs. Step this way." He walked them to a door on the side of the office which appeared to be a closet. Pressing a hidden button under a picture on the wall, the picture slid down to reveal the flat monitor for a display of some kind. Using the monitor, he opened the door to the closet and a light came on. "Please step inside." They did and their guide looked at a display mounted on the wall. Seemingly satisfied with what he found he said, "One at a time, please place your right hands on the scanner on the far wall." They did so. He looked back at the scanner and nodded once again. "Very well, gentlemen. Enjoy your visit."

He closed the door behind them and they had the feeling of falling as the room they were in descended. The descent lasted for long seconds. They could not tell how deep they went, but it must have been many levels. Eventually, the descent stopped and one of the walls opened. They were standing in front of a plain metal desk with two guards dressed all in black combat fatigues. Each man held a Heckler & Koch MP7 submachine gun slung across his body. One man was sitting at the desk and the other standing off to one side.

The man at the desk said, "ID, please, gentlemen." He had unsmiling eyes and kept his right hand on his weapon. With his left hand, he took their ID and checked it against a list on his computer. Satisfied, he turned to his companion and nodded, then handed the ID back to Chuck and Casey. Although some small part of Chuck's psyche wanted him to make some kind of a joke to see if this guard was actually human, he decided against it.

The standing guard said, "Follow me, gentlemen."

They walked deeper into the facility, past a number of closed doors without markings, but with keypads mounted on the side of the doors. Stopping beside one of the doors, the guard entered a number on the pad and the door popped open. He gestured with a hand for them to enter.

The room had a metal table bolted to the floor and four uncomfortable looking metal chairs. There was a heavy steel ring bolted to the middle of the table.

"Wait here," said the guard, closing the door. The as the door closed there was the solid thunk noise of an electronic lock engaging.

Chuck and Casey sat down to wait in silence. Chuck took out his computer and turned it on, accessing the files he was looking for, to have them ready.

Less than five minutes later, they heard the sound of buttons being pushed on the other side of the closed door. There was a noise of the lock being released. The door opened and the guard brought in a huge orange-clad man with chains on his ankles and wrists all connected to a chain at his waist.

Chuck and Casey stood up as the man entered.

Chuck said, "Good afternoon, Mr. Colt."

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A/N2: I have touched upon torture before in New Day (Chapter 96). To be clear, I oppose it on moral grounds. I know that another argument against it is that it does not produce reliable information. I believe that to be true, but would oppose it regardless. A friend of mine (now deceased) was a brigadier general and wrote an open letter to President Bush objecting to the United States engaging in such activities. As a part of my opposition, I reject as unrealistic the common "ticking-bomb" hypothetical. In this case, though, I do think Team B has made the right decision given the totality of the circumstances.

A/N3: Mr. Colt is back in New Day. I just liked Michael Clarke Duncan. Mr. Colt was a villain with a nice mix of menace and panache. So, he's back. I hope none of you considered the choice of movie two weeks ago as an accident. Let me know what you think if you wouldn't mind.

A/N4: Apologies to all my author friends here. I'm way behind in my reading. I've been doomscrolling my Twitter feed to get the latest on the Russo-Ukrainian War. I still can't believe I'm watching live-time a conventional war in Europe. I had really thought that was all past history. Anyway, I'm away on vacation right now (first time in three years) and I hope to be able to do some reading and reviewing of your great stories this weekend.