Author's Note: Here is Chapter 3 of Black Orchid Transcendence. This chapter and succeeding ones will begin to be relatively long, as more background for the story is set. Also, beginning with this chapter, a teaser scene would be added to the end for excerpts of further events in the tale, along with a short summary of what the next chapter would contain. The next modified timeline will be at the end of Chapter 5. Enjoy!
Chapter 3
6:27 PM
August 16, 2010
NSA Safehouse
Nadmejdan Street
Sarajevo, Bosnia-Herzegovina
He couldn't believe it.
He almost died at the hands of his so-called teammates.
Teammates that he had come to trust over the last 5 months they had been working together.
Teammates that he had come to view as friends, in place of the ones he lost when he left Burbank.
How could this happen?
How could he had not seen it?
How could he be so blindingly naïve?
"It's just the way it is, in this business, Agent Carmichael. The moment we don our badges, one of our feet was already place at a metaphorical grave reserved for us. Each mission, the grounds of the grave are being tested. Each person we trust, could be the one to keep our feet stable and above ground, or could be the one to drag it deeper than we are prepared for."
Frowning at her, he could not help but retort back in a clipped tone.
"So, you're saying I should definitely not trust you?"
The blonde female agent who saved him from death shook her head.
"No, you should not. You could be comfortable with me, and be friendly, but you should never trust me. At least not fully. And for the record, I'll be doing the same."
He could not help but snort in derision.
"Was there something I said that was funny?" She asked, irritated at his gall to be amused when she did nothing for him to be so.
"I'm Charles, Charles Carmichael. What, may I ask, is your name, oh fair lady?" he offered with a grin.
Looking at his hand inquisitively, and at his goofy grin, she was confused that a man that had been betrayed by his team and nearly killed an hour ago could be so damningly cavalier with a stranger who he clearly know was armed, while he was not. She had not met many an operative that acts like him in this specific kind of scenario. It was mind-boggling as it was interesting.
She took his hand and shook it.
"Caitlin, Caitlin Mencher. NSA agent since 2004."
He laughed.
'Why is he laughing?'
"You've been in this 'business' 3 years longer than me, I guess."
"It's I, '3 years longer than I'," she corrected him, which only served to make him laugh more. What the hell is wrong with this guy?
"Noted. Anyway, what's the next step for us? I'm guessing we need to report what…...what happened to the general, right?" the mention of the ambush on his person seem to finally force him back to become serious once more.
Good for him. Being a clown won't give him any new skills to survive.
"Yes, but we will do it tomorrow. For the moment, we will just rest. I've arranged for our flight back to Rome tomorrow evening, where we will receive further orders from the director."
He frowned at her.
"I'm sorry, but OUR further orders?"
She threw an annoyed look at the man. Not only a clown, but a moron then.
"Yes, I'm being assigned as your next partner."
"By whose order?"
"By the general herself."
"Beckman made you my new partner?" he asked, his disbelieving tone clearly expressed.
"Why? Do you think I would be an incapable partner for the vaunted Intersect?" she sniped, angered that he would dare to imply that the general had made a mistake in selecting her as a fellow operative. He already admitted that she had been an agent for longer than he was. That translated to a wealth of experience that was to her advantage. Just because he was the human Intersect doesn't make her any less competent. She had proven enough times throughout her career her sheer potential and capabilities. She was, is, the best the NSA had to offer.
He backtracked and shook his head, nervous that he had angered her and judged her.
"No, I mean, I'm just surprised that the general would not have recalled me back to HQ for this entire mess, and instead assigned me a partner, specifically you, to work with. I am not implying anything negative of you, Agent Mencher. In fact, I am so very grateful for what you did, saving me from my…...teammates. Thank you so much, and I hope I could repay the debt in the near future."
She stared at his deep chocolate eyes, and saw nothing but sincerity and gratitude, and she was taken aback. He was really naïve and too trusting, but he was kind, possessing a good heart. Normally, she would scoff at how such a man would be accepted as a field agent, but this time, she was just honestly surprised, and intrigued. For him to be like that, and to survive to this day, he clearly must have been doing something, anything right. So, she would withdraw her full judgement until she knew what it was.
"You're welcome, and I'll be expecting you to make it even in the near future. As for our pairing, the general told me that that had been the original plan for you months ago. I was already handpicked and thoroughly vetted to be your partner, but at the time, was still in an undercover operation, which I only completed 2 weeks ago. I came here as soon as I received the orders and completed my post-mission evals. To be honest, we are quite caught flat-footed that your teammates turned out to be Ring plants. Both the vetting at Maryland and your reports did not give any indication that they are. More than likely, we will be working as partners from now on and will proceed with little to no contact with other agents, as there clearly was a security leak, if not multiple."
"If both the investigations on them did not indicate that they were in fact enemy agents, and your vetting by Beckman produced the same results…."
"The fact that you are still talking to me, relatively relaxed, meant that there are also no clues in the Intersect that would indicate that I am a Ring operative, or a traitor. Basically, the same situation with your teammates. That is why I am telling you not to fully trust me, Agent Carmichael. I do not, for a moment, trust you, and I am here because I am following the orders of the director to the T. I do not like traitors, Carmichael, and if you give me any inkling that you are, I'm going to end you, Intersect or no, whether the general orders it or not."
He stared at her, and then grinned once more, after a moment.
"WHY ARE YOU SMIRKING?!" She yelled, outraged at his sheer audacity to grin at her expense.
"I can trust you then," he intoned, smiling at her.
"Huh?" Is he for real?
"My teammates verbally told me I can, and have to trust them. Their behavior up until today had been clean, friendly, and exuding an aura that made me believe to trust them. You, on the other hand, just threatened to kill me, and told me to my face that you don't trust me. Your body language denote that you don't like me, and thinks that I am an idiot, that how could I possibly be the human Intersect when I am this naïve, this goody-two-shoes. That would mean you are not, and would not be a traitor. In addition, I'm getting a vibe that you are anxious to fulfill your orders to the letter, as you yourself admitted, which would clearly indicate that you're in this for the job, and you're gunning for another successful mark on a spectacular career which you would use to propel yourself to the top. Your orders were to clearly be my partner and ensure not only my safety, but also that I completed my missions to the best of my abilities. That would mean you would be giving it your all. That I can understand. That I can trust. Ergo, I can trust you."
Caitlin looked at the guy and can't help but be gobsmacked at how correctly he read her. If he was this smart and perceptive, why was he portraying the persona of an idiot and naïve government agent? Was it an act to catch his allies, and enemies, off-guard? For if it was, it was clearly working, at least on her. General Beckman had briefed her that Charles Carmichael is a genius, both in the conventional and unconventional aspects. At first, she did not understand; how could one person be smart in both ways? She guessed that being the Intersect, at least for this long, and utilizing it perfectly with almost to no side effects (it came in the brief), to a degree that the experts in the field could not even believe was possible, would translate, at a minimum, that he was indeed smart, by conventional standards. He did indeed graduate from Stanford (the bit where he only received his diploma six years after his supposed wrongful expulsion was interesting). The general told her that the man had a knack for thinking outside the box, specially when it comes to missions, and would frequently execute solutions on the fly that may seem frustratingly idiotic, reckless, illogical and problematic, but ultimately ended up completing the job. The epitome of 'the end justifies the means'.
Okay, she can acknowledge that he is really a genius and very perceptive. At least he was not a complete total mess. But God, she could not help but still see him as an idiot and a naïve agent.
And kind, with a good, and too trusting heart.
Cute, too…for that matter.
Wait, WHAT?
Where did that come from?
She was not here for a romantic entanglement, not even for a single encounter between the sheets.
It had been more than 4 years of a dry spell for her, but she could still function as a top-notch, deadly agent.
Of that she was sure of.
There aren't a lot of decent guys to look at anyway, much less ones that deserve to get in touch with her body.
At the back of her mind, a voice called out.
'This one is, definitely.'
She looked at him, really looked at him.
He was tall, yes, around half a foot taller than her.
His short, clipped dark hair had a hint of curliness at the edges.
He had deep, dark brown eyes, the color of chocolate.
He was of a swimmer's body type, not lanky, but a good kind of lean.
And he was smart.
Perceptive.
Kind.
With a good heart.
And naïve.
An idiot.
"Agent Mencher? Agent Mencher? Hello?"
She felt him bopped her nose, and swatted his hand.
"Will you stop that?" she asked irritatedly.
"I'm sorry, but you kind of spaced out there. So, uhm, I bopped your, erm…...nose."
"Clearly," she half-heartedly glared.
"So, uhm….I really can't believe that I almost died there. I mean, we are only what, 2 miles south of where I could have died? My God, I would have been buried there if you had not arrived!"
And there he is being an idiot again.
A morbid kind of idiot.
Arghhh!
"At least you'll be tied to history," she sniped.
"I'm sorry?" he asked, confused.
"That was the same street where Gavrilo Princip shot the Archduke and Archduchess of the Austro-Hungarian Empire in 1914. That was the same street where the First World War started."
"Oh my God! If you hadn't arrived, my death would have caused World War Three then!"
This time she laughed.
"How presumptuous of you, you idiot!"
"Idiot I may be, but at least I made you laugh," he returned.
She gawked at him, shocked. Her cheeks felt hot and she turned away from him so that he would not witness her blushing.
God, he's so irritating!
'But he made you laugh,' another voice in her mind sniped.
That was true. She had not a genuine laugh, for at least…...a year now.
And he made her laugh so easily.
"So, what should I call you?"
"What do you mean?" she asked, confused.
He cleared his throat.
"I mean, we will be partners for the foreseeable future, right? I don't know about you, but I don't like calling you Agent Mencher, Mencher, Ms. Mencher, Caitlin, Ms. Caitlin or any other derivative for that matter. They're just too formal for me. So, what should I call you that would be appropriately informal, at least for the time being that we are to partners?"
She turned thoughtful at that. He had a point. But she hadn't let anyone call her by a familiar nickname for so long. Not even Caitlin. It was either Agent Mencher or Ms. Mencher. She had not cared enough to be close to someone for them to be familiar and call her anything but those two.
She could start now, she guessed. Though she was not really sure what made him so acceptable to her that she would make an exemption.
"Cate, you can call me Cate. But only when we are off missions. When we are, you will address me as Agent Mencher, is that clear?" she demanded.
He grinned.
"Noted, Cate. Will do, Cate."
He was being irritating again.
"And you?"
She would not let him call her so familiarly without being able to return the favor.
'So, you view calling him familiarly, intimately, a favor?' there was that annoying inner voice again.
'Shut up!' she sniped back.
"Me, what?"
Is he an idiot?
Scratch, that. He is.
"What should I call you, off missions?"
"Uhm….."
"You are a Charles. So, I guess that would mean I can call you Chuck?"
He stiffened.
"Erm…."
"What? Just as Cate can be short for Caitlin, Chuck is a diminutive of Charles, right?"
There it was again. He jerked at the name Chuck. That would mean he had, at least bad, or not so pleasant memories associated with the name.
That was interesting. She was curious why, but she did not want to alienate him by repeatedly calling him a name he was clearly uncomfortable with.
"I guess not. What about Chase? It's a nickname for Charles, right?"
This time, he offered her a small, shy smile.
She did not know why, but she smiled at him in return.
"That's it then. You are, from now on, when off-missions, Chase. You are my partner, Chase," she offered her hand for a shake.
Grinning goofily at her, he took it and shook it gently.
"You are my partner, Cate."
-Break-
4:30 PM
July 22, 2012
An underground base
Gobi Desert, Mongolia
"We've arrived, Frost."
"What is this place, Alexei?" asked a middle-aged woman, with dark brown hair. On her left was a man with grey hair. The two had just went past five security vault doors inside this unknown base, unknown at least to her. She never had any inkling of a location such as this.
It could only mean one thing.
This was part of a major project.
She did not like being left unaware of any project, specially one that is big as this clearly was.
"Relax, my love, we are here for a visit," the man known as Alexei Volkoff, one of the most notorious business magnates in the world, replied.
"A visit? For what?"
"For one of my new obra maestra," Volkoff intoned, while punching in the security codes on the panel at the side of another vault door.
Hissss.
The pair stepped into the cavernous space beyond the door.
"Behold, my love, the Charybdis!"
Break –
7:15 AM
July 21, 2012
Room 35
Hotel 81 Orchid
Singapore
She frantically packed her belongings in her suitcase.
Her flight for Tokyo had already been booked, and so was her ticket towards San Francisco. She had also booked a cab.
She had made a mistake in contacting that person. She thought she was just a benefactor, who was really interested in her research. She had not expected him to be a part of an organization.
What a life.
She already escaped another organization that had been crushed by the US government, and she had no plans in getting involved in another one.
She was now free.
He had done everything for her to gain this freedom, and she would not allow his efforts to be in vain.
She owed him that much.
Jill Roberts would not let herself be used against Chuck Bartowski once more.
Break –
9:19 AM
July 23, 2012
Office of the Director of National Intelligence
He frowned upon not seeing the secretary to the general at her desk.
'No matter, she already knew I am supposed to be coming in.'
Checking once more his outfit, he then confidently strode towards the door, and ever so gently turned it open.
He immediately saw Beckman addressing what appeared to be two guests, who he could not see, as they were sitting on ottomans directly facing the woman.
'Why is she meeting with someone else right at this moment? I thought this briefing was urgent?'
Slightly annoyed at the circumstances he was now in, he breathed deeply, before once more walking slowly towards the desk. The general finally noticed him and promptly stopped what she was talking about, clearly stunned that he was here at her office, right at this very moment.
'This is getting worrisome. Did she not expect me for the briefing? A briefing she clearly ordered me to be actually present for? A briefing that was clearly not so important and urgent anymore, seeing she had other guests to attend to?'
He cleared his throat.
"I guess our meeting would have to be postponed then for a later time, Director?" he asked in a clipped tone, looking sharply at the eyes of the petite general.
He guessed that he was so into communicating with Beckman with visual contact alone, about how annoyed and irritated he was, that he did not, momentarily noticed the two guests turned their chairs around, stare at him, and let out gasps of surprise.
"CHUCK?!"
Post-Chapter Note: The street that Cate was talking about, where Chuck/Chase almost died in a trap laid by his traitorous teammates who turned out to be Ring double agents, was the Zelenih Berekti Street. It was indeed there where Princip shot Archduke Franz Ferdinand on that fateful day, June 28, 1914.
Next Chapter: Sarah Walker interlude (flashback on what happened to her between Chuck leaving for Rome, and Chuck returning to DC as seen at the end of this chapter).
Teaser Scene:
"Let us not kid ourselves even for a single moment," he intoned, "we are being set up as a team by the Beckman, for a mission I really could not care less if its important or not. I'm done with that. I have bigger concerns to attend to. But orders are orders, so I have no choice but to make nice with you two."
Casey grunted.
"You will not hear any problems from me, kid. A mission's a mission. As long as I get to shoot someone, preferably traitorous sons of bitches, then I can make nice with the two of you."
He smirked at the big man.
'Same old Casey.'
He turned to the other team member.
"And you, Agent Walker?" he asked, coolly.
She was looking at him uncertainly.
"C-Chuck, I am glad that we are w-working aga—"
He cut her off.
"And I'm not. What I'm asking you is if you can be professional during this mission. You need not worry on keeping professionalism for long, as soon as the objectives are obtained, we are parting ways, that I assure you. So again, can you be professional? Can you be part of this team for this mission?"
"C-Chuck, you know that will do my best…."
"Just answer the damn question, Walker!" he sniped at her, thoroughly irritated that she was making it so harder to deal with.
His rising voice shook her, causing her to stiffen in shock, and eyes seem to well with unshed tears.
'Arghhhhh!'
"Well?"
She was looking at her feet, now unable to meet his eyes.
"I w-will be professional, Chuck," she said softly.
Casey was just standing to the side, calmly studying the scene that was happening.
"Good," he returned, "we'll met for planning at my apartment. 7 in the evening sharp. I'll text you the address as soon as I get out of here."
Sparing them no further look, he turned once more and promptly strode out of the room.
He needed to breathe.