8,005A/N: Between the posting of the first chapter and this one, I heard back from Argo0 and received his/her blessing for what I'm doing with the idea he/she first presented to us. Thanks, Argo0. Hope you like what I've done and am doing with it.
I am in awe of you guys/gals who can write and post so fast. It seems to take me weeks to get a chapter done. I'm following stories here that are dropping a chapter a day (*cough* Zettel, David Carner, Steampunk Chuckster *cough*). And you have day jobs, I mean, I know some of you do, at least. You folks are amazing. Hat's off to you all.
If you think I own Chuck, you probably also think that this is all market research to see what fans will like in a Chuck movie. Please, don't be too disappointed.
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"Make a note, showering together does not, in fact, save time," said Sarah, pulling into the parking lot of a completely unimpressive office building in an office park filled with unimpressive office buildings.
"So noted...was fun, though," said Chuck grinning.
"Really fun," she replied with a grin of her own.
"If we're late, blame LA traffic."
"Works every time."
Parking, Sarah looked around the parking lot and made a 'hmmm' noise.
"What is it?" asked Chuck.
"The lot is full. That's unusual."
"Something to do with why your boss sent us here instead of the safe house, maybe?"
"Maybe," said Sarah.
The building had a normal lobby, but once the normal security guard had let them through the normal door in back of the normal lobby, all semblance of normalcy disappeared. There was another, much stricter security check with heavily armed guards which they made it through with Sarah's credentials. He got a visitor's badge to wear around his neck and a stern warning about what would happen if he didn't.
Chuck looked around like Dorothy in Oz. Oh, my God, I'm in a CIA headquarters, he thought. All these people were CIA agents...spies. Oh, wow. Sarah would have been charmed by his innocent wonder at everything, but all her antennae were vibrating. Men and women were rushing about with a crisis air. Several of them glanced at Sarah and Chuck, but quickly moved on. Nobody looked at all happy. Something big was clearly up.
Sarah found an empty conference room and said, "Chuck, stay here while I figure out what's happening. I'll come back as soon as I can...OK?"
"Yeah, I'm fine, Sarah. You go ahead. I'll just wait here. Don't worry about me." He gave her a goofy grin and a thumbs up.
She left. As soon as the door closed, he freaked out. He had managed to hold it together in front of her, but not now.
What the hell was happening? He had a database in his head and was sitting in CIA headquarters Los Angeles. What the hell does that even mean "a database in his head"? From the pictures he'd seen? Why had Bryce done this to him? Was he stuck with this weird info flashing thing? When would it run its course? When would the last of the info finally be revealed? Can he get this thing out? If it went in, there must be a way to get it out, right?
He was just Chuck Bartowski, Nerd Herd desk guy. He fixes computers. Maybe he'll apply for the position of assistant manager at the Buy More, but maybe he's not ready for it. One thing he knows for sure for sure is that he doesn't belong here, with these people, with Sarah. She is so far out of his league it's crazy. These people were spies, secret agents, James Bond, Jane Bond. Not Chuck Bartowski.
A database in his head? How is it possible that he knew all this stuff? He stopped himself. He didn't know. Not really know as in know. The information was merely ...stored ...in his head. It seemed to pop out randomly as he saw something or someone. Only then could it be called "knowing". He was no more than a hard drive with legs, but without any sort of index. That was really messed up. The idea of this stuff in his head scared him. What if it hurt his brain? Not that he was really using his brain for anything much lately, but still, he was rather attached to it.
He tried taking deep breaths, but thought he was hyperventilating. He moved restlessly and ceaselessly around the small room, touching things randomly, fidgeting and talking to himself.
He trusted Sarah and believed her when she told him that what they had was real, but that didn't mean he belonged in this world, in her world. He was willing to bet not one of these people had been expelled from their schools for any reason, much less cheating on a test they hadn't cheated on. Goddamn Bryce..God, sorry. He's dead. Stop thinking like that.
With nothing else to occupy him and hoping for a distraction, Chuck sat down at the table, picked up the remote control and turned on the wall mounted TV. It defaulted to an all-news channel. They were reporting on a bombing. Baghdad or Kabul?, thought Chuck. Moments later, he realized to his shock that it was, in fact, Los Angeles. There was an aerial shot of the hotel where the bomb went off. Chuck flashed. Blueprints of the hotel. Schematics for the bomb. He added that to the flash he'd had the day before of the Serbian demolitions expert. Oh, my God. That Serbian guy had planted the bomb. The TV announced 30 people dead, including NATO General Stanfield, and over 60 wounded. Terrible. They were calling it the worst act of terrorism on US soil since 9-11. Oh, no. Oh, no. This is what the database was about. Oh God.
Chuck looked out the door of the conference room, but didn't see Sarah. He took out his phone and quickly texted her, his hands shaking so badly that he had to slow down and concentrate to do it correctly.
MUST TALK TO YOU. NOW.
Shortly afterwards, he received. HOLD TIGHT. BUSY HERE. BE THERE WHEN I CAN.
He responded, NOW, PLEASE. TRUST ME.
All those people killed. Their wives and husbands. Kids left behind. As he thought about them, his heart broke for the loss and shattered lives. How could one human being do that to another, to a room full? He felt tears welling up in his eyes. A rare hatred rose within him for Andric. If only he'd known yesterday. If only he'd flashed then. Damn.
A few minutes later Sarah opened the door looking a little frantic and a little annoyed. "Chuck, I really can't talk now. Al Queda bombed an LA hotel."
"It wasn't Al Queda. It was a Serbian bombmaker named Vuc Andric," he sounded breathless and a little crazed. He was sure he looked it. As hard as he had tried to hold it together in front of her before, it was useless now.
"Chuck, what are you saying? How do you know this?"
"Sarah, after the email I knew things about Stanfield's security that I had no reason to know. Like..like...I knew he had come in the night before his announced arrival. Yesterday, at the Large Mart I saw this Andric guy and flashed on him. I thought I was losing my mind. At the time, I had no idea that Bryce had put information in my head. Last night I flashed on Stanfield and his schedule when we were walking to the dance club. Just now, when I saw a picture of the hotel on TV, I flashed again," he spoke faster and faster, the words tumbling out of him in a rush. "This time to blueprints of the hotel which were intercepted by the NSA last week. And bomb plans which were captured by the CIA in Prague. It fits, Sarah. And don't the Serbs hate NATO for bombing Belgrade a few years ago?"
She began to move towards the door. "You're right. It makes sense. Damn. I've got to tell them. We're looking in the wrong places."
"Sarah, I can't tell how I know. Right? You told me that you weren't supposed to tell me about the pictures. I'm not supposed to know that I have this information in my head."
"Yeah. I forgot. Right. I'll get Major Casey, from the NSA. He's the agent we were supposed to meet at the safe house and he's here too. He's briefed on what Bryce did, so he knows about you. We'll tell him that I just briefed you now, after this latest flash. Go ahead and look as freaked out as you want. I'll be right back."
She turned back to the door, but stopped with her hand on the handle. Stepping over to Chuck, she gave him a quick kiss and said, "Good job, Chuck". Then she was gone.
He texted Ellie, R U OK?
Moments later she responded, OK. D AND I WORKED ALL NIGHT. U OK?
He texted, OK. BAD?
She responded, REALLY BAD. GOTTA GO.
Chuck texted, STAY SAFE. LUV U
She responded, U 2
Next he exchanged texts with Morgan, who was also ok.
He had just finished when Sarah and a large man burst into the room. The man was stern-faced and angry. "This is Major John Casey of the NSA. Casey, this is Chuck Bartowski." Chuck wondered if Casey was angry with him, although he couldn't see why.
They shook hands. OK, thought Chuck, hold it together, for God's sake. Now it matters. "Chuck, tell Casey what you told me."
"Major, Sarah tells me that you know what Bryce Larkin did. Did to me. How I have stuff in my head." Casey grunted in the affirmative. "Well, this stuff sort of pops out randomly. It's triggered by something I might see and otherwise it's like I have no access to it. It just sits back there until a flash of info hits me."
"Get on with it," growled Casey.
"Yesterday in Burbank I flashed on a Serbian bomb maker named Vuc Andric in the Large Mart. Just now, when I saw the hotel on TV I flashed again and saw that the NSA had intercepted blueprints of the hotel and the CIA had gotten the plans for the bomb. I thought I was losing my mind until Sarah explained to me about the email, Bryce's email to me."
"Well," said Casey to Sarah, "this is the first lead we have."
"I agree," said Sarah. "Let's get started on the surveillance tapes from the hotel. If this really is the guy, maybe Chuck can spot him. Let's see what we have on the SOB."
Casey grunted, "Makes sense." They walked over to a computer terminal in the corner of the conference room and booted it up. Sarah signed on and pulled up the file on Andric.
Chuck said, "Yeah, that's the guy I saw yesterday" as the picture came up on screen. "He still looks like that. Didn't grow a beard or anything. He was wearing a black tee shirt and a black leather jacket. Hadn't shaved for a little while. You know, stubble."
They scanned the files. "What a charmer," growled Casey. "Active war criminal. Massacres. Bombed a school. I'd love to meet him over my gunsights one day."
"You and me both, Casey," said Sarah. "Ok, let's get Chuck in front of the hotel's tapes. Come on Chuck."
"Hold on, Walker. This kid's downloaded database is need to know. Everybody out there, they're going to ask who this guy is."
"You're right. How about Special Agent..."
"Carmicheal?" asked Chuck. They both looked at him questioningly.
"It's a fantasy name I once picked for myself. When your name is Bartowski, you tend to do that."
A grunt from Casey, "Sure, whatever. Carmicheal."
"Come with us, Special Agent Carmicheal," said Sarah with a small smile.
Down a long corridor they walked into a large room filled with people and computer monitors. Huge flat screens dominated the front of the room and men and women sat before terminals frenetically typing and studying the monitors. Some were talking into microphones attached to headsets.
"Listen up, people," bellowed Casey.
Sarah took over as the CIA officer in a CIA facility. She typed on a terminal and pushed a button. Andric's face showed up on one of the wall displays. "This is Vuc Andric. Wanted Serbian bomber and war criminal. Pull up the surveillance tapes from the hotel before the bombing. We are looking for him. If any of you spots somebody you think is him, you bring it to Agent Carmicheal here. He can confirm or deny. Questions?" There were none.
It took about 15 minutes. Chuck was called over to several monitors to look at possible matches. He had looked at 6 young men on the tapes before picking out Andric in a waiter's uniform wheeling a serving cart into the ballroom.
"Son of a bitch," said Casey.
"Right," said Sarah, in a voice that carried to the far corners of the large room. "We have a target. You know what to do. Live feed. Airports, train stations, bus depots, toll booths on bridges and tunnels, traffic cams, everything. And I do mean everything. This son of a bitch attacked us. We will get him. Get every agency on it. All points. I want every law enforcement officer in the country looking for him. He may still be in LA, but we don't know that yet. Put all the pictures we have of him into the automated algorithm. The computers will scan the feeds for his face. Questions?"
A hand raised. "Do we release to the press? Initiate a BOLO?"
Chuck leaned closer to Casey who said, before Chuck could ask, "Be On the LookOut."
"Humm"
"Not yet," said Sarah. "Going public is a next step. I don't want him panicked and going to ground. Right now, all the press is focused on Al Queda, so he thinks he's safe. Let's leave it that way for the time being. If there are no more questions...right. Get to work, guys."
Chuck thought Sarah was awesome – professional, commanding, smart, hyper-focused. She was incredibly beautiful, but she was so much more than that. From the looks she was receiving from the assembled team, they agreed. But he also noticed something else, a very little thing, but from a few of the people at the monitors, he saw a bit of fear. He thought that was pretty strange.
She stopped by Casey and Chuck and said, "I have to brief my boss. Want to come, Casey?" He grunted in the affirmative. "Chuck, this part of it is going to take a while. Can you find your way back to that conference room?"
"No problem. I'll be fine."
Chuck went back to the conference room. Seeing that the computer in the corner was still active, he sat down to it. What's an "asset"?, he wondered.
A few hours later, Casey burst into the room. "We found him!"
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A/N2: Thank you to all of you who have taken the time to review my stuff. It makes this whole thing so much more fun than I had expected. I do try to PM every reviewer, and if I missed you for some reason, sorry. Also, for those of you reviewers who are Guests or otherwise have your settings established so that I cannot PM you, some of you have some really interesting points and I do appreciate you sharing them with me.