Chapter 5
I don’t own Chuck
Chuck was sitting in the car, quiet, his mind whirling. “You okay?” Sarah asked, causing Chuck to look over at her. “I didn’t mean to upset you last night if I did.”
Last night, Chuck had woken up, bothered by Graham’s file, or lack thereof. He had gotten up without waking Sarah, who was on her side of the bed, her back to him. He took his normal route down the atrium hallway, to his bench, taking the file with him. He sat there, studying in, when he nearly threw it in surprise when Sarah sat down beside him. “You were gone.”
He was now reflecting on that. She had known he was gone. She had been sound asleep, and she had known he was gone. He didn’t have time to think about that, because he realized Sarah was looking at him. “Sorry, still thinking about my mini-heart attack and the reason I woke up to start with.”
“You never did say why,” Sarah replied. “What has you so bothered?”
Chuck frowned. “Langston Graham doesn’t exist before he was sixteen years old,” Chuck told her.
“Chuck, it was a different time, they didn’t keep records like that,” Sarah told him.
“No, there is a birth certificate and then literally nothing until he is sixteen. No school records, nothing.” She drove, silent, but he could tell she was kicking something around in her head. “Listen, I get you have to keep secrets, but I have the Intersect in my head.” She grinned at that. “I’ll also pinky swear that I will never reveal what you tell me if that will help.”
“Those don’t hold in a court of law,” Sarah reminded him.“They do in the most important court,” Chuck told her. She glanced at him, amused. “Friendship court.”
“I see,” Sarah replied. She was silent a second. “Oh, what the hell, it’s my secret-”
“Wait, don’t tell me then,” Chuck told her. She gave him a confused look. “I was looking for something to help us figure out Graham, not your past life.”
“Chuck, I think my past life may give us a clue,” Sarah explained. “Langston Graham made my life before I was sixteen disappear.” Chuck thought about that. “Who I was before I joined the CIA…only I know.”
“Okay,” Chuck replied. “Are you suggesting that Langston Graham might not be Langston Graham?”
“I am,” Sarah told him. Chuck was silent, worrying with his lip. “What are you thinking?”
“Are we wasting our time going to Montgomery?” Chuck asked her.
“I don’t think so,” Sarah told him. “If he created a new persona, or someone did for him, this was years ago. There’s a good chance they did use a town from his past, and besides, Montgomery’s huge.”
“It is, but if he was there, during the time he was in Montgomery…” Chuck trailed off.
“You think there’s a lead there,” Sarah finished for him.
“I do,” Chuck told her. “Maybe I’m stupid-”
“Hey, no,” Sarah cut in. “Your ideas have been spot on so far, and if there is nothing there, then that itself is a clue…what it means, I have no idea.”
“It may mean I’m Charles Carmichael forever, and you resigned for no good reason,” Chuck replied gloomily.
“You’re wrong,” she told him. “I’m out of that life, and until we figure that out, you’re stuck with me.”
“I’m stuck with you?” Chuck asked, giving her look. “Why do you make that sound like it’s the most terrible thing in the world.”
“Chuck, I told you, I’m a cold-blooded killer,” she began.
“Stop,” Chuck said, surprising her, the insistence in his voice. “Obviously you’ve forgotten my promise.” She didn’t speak. “Did you go through some stuff….and I do realize stuff is really downplaying it.” She couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sure, but you’re out of that life, and I’m going to help you resolve that life, find closure. It may take a long time, which I didn’t realize that until a little bit ago, but if it does, so what?” She glanced at him.
“You really don’t know me,” she insisted.
“I looked into your eyes when you held a gun to my temple,” he reminded her. “We got real intimate, real quick.” He thought about what he said. “Oh, God-”
“No, don’t apologize, I get what you mean,” she said. “But, Chuck, that’s the first time I made that decision.”
“And the last,” Chuck told her.
“No, the last will be when I have the gun pointed at Graham,” she told him. “I’m going to kill the son-of-a-bitch.” Chuck didn’t say anything. “Disappointed in me.”
“No,” Chuck said, shaking his head. “I’ve seen…a lot, and while I think putting him in prison is better…” Chuck trailed off. “I just worry it will hurt you more than him.” Sarah snorted.
“This is what you’re stuck with Chuck, an ex-CIA agent hellbent on ending the life of the current director of the CIA.”
“I feel like you’re stuck with me,” Chuck countered. Sarah gave him a look. “I do,” he insisted.
“Doesn’t feel like stuck from my vantage point, just sayin’,” she said with a shrug.
}o{
Tombstone was not the hell Casey feared it would be…it was worse. Chuck decided Carmichael would go on a ghost hunt and to his surprise, Sarah volunteered to go with him, almost gleefully. Chuck laid out everything to Casey and they all agreed that something wasn’t right with Graham’s file. Casey asked Chuck what his plan was.
“I’ve found a few pictures of Graham at sixteen, so we need to find people to show it to,” Chuck told him.
“Schools were segregated by ‘54,” Casey told him.
“Kinda,” Chuck said. “There were a bunch of academies opened as private schools to keep students separated.” Casey shook his head. “But schools were my second thought.” Chuck went quiet.
“Go ahead, Bartowski, you’re ideas have been spot on so far,” Casey told him.
“It’s the South, Casey,” Chuck began. “You know who knew everyone’s business in the South?”
“Church members,” Casey said, grinning. Chuck nodded. “Good idea, Bartowski.”
“How is that a good idea?” Sarah asked. “How many churches are in Montgomery?”
“Close to three hundred,” Chuck told her. “But remember, it was the 50s, and there is my secret weapon.” Sarah gave him a long look. “Many churches have begun digitizing their directories, and putting them online. I might have had a computer program running while we were on our ghost hunt.” Casey grunted. It sounded like pride, but Chuck wasn’t sure it was gas.
“You found Graham,” Sarah asked.
“No,” Chuck said, shaking his head, and turning his laptop toward her. In the picture on the screen was a mother and her three sons. “I found Wayne Tisdale, of Montgomery Alabama.” Sarah glanced at the picture on Chuck’s laptop that looked to between ten and twelve and then the picture Chuck had of Graham at sixteen. The resemblance was uncanny.
“Graham isn’t Graham,” Sarah said softly.
“Just like I’m not John Casey or you’re not Sarah Walker,” Casey said.
“And like I’m not Charles Carmichael,” Chuck added. They both gave him a look and shook their head. “What?”