Chapter 16
I don’t own Chuck
“Did you know Niobrara Country, Wyoming is the least populated county in all of the United States?” Chuck asked, his knuckles white. Sarah didn’t reply, checking the side and rear-view mirrors as she drove. “That’s probably best, less people to see our car explode in a ball of fire.”
Sarah glanced at him, made a “tsk” sound, and continued down the road. She reached over to take his hand. “Nonononono!” Chuck nearly yelled. “Both hands on the steering wheel!”
Sarah giggled, and put her hand back on the wheel. She eased up on the gas. “I didn’t like you being exposed like that, at the diner.”
“You didn’t seem to mind me being exposed last night,” Chuck muttered.
She chuckled. “Only I get to see you exposed like that, Chuck,” she told him.
“That sounds kinda possessive,” Chuck pointed out.
“It does,” Sarah replied, nodding. “I’m-”
“God, that’s so hot,” Chuck muttered, cutting in. She turned to look at him, and had to quickly turn back to the highway.
“I need you to stop,” Sarah said. “I need to get you to where ever we are going.”
“Okay,” Chuck replied, confused.
“Because if you continue, I might be forced to pull off the road, and if I do that we might get caught,” Sarah finished.
“Right, by the bad guys,” Chuck said. Sarah glanced at him and then turned back to the road. “You do mean the bad guys, right?”
“You’re doing it again,” Sarah said. Chuck clamped his lips shut.
}o{
They pulled up to the address at one AM local time. Chuck looked at the small house and wondered what was so important that was inside. Sarah held her hand out, and Chuck gave her five. She glared at him.
“What?” he asked.
“The key,” she told him in no uncertain terms. Chuck handed over the key, and before he could move she was out of the car. “Stay in there.” Chuck put his hand on the door handle. “Chuck Bartowski,” she said softly, but in a voice that terrified him. He nodded and moved his hand away. Sarah drew her gun and walked to the house.
She unlocked the door with the key, slowly opened the door, and stepped inside, a flashlight over her gun, looking from side to side. Chuck sat there quietly, and nearly jumped through the roof of the car, when Casey slapped the car window from the outside.
Chuck opened the door, got out, prepared to yell at Casey, when he heard, “What the hell are you doing out of the car?” He swallowed, turned toward Sarah, to see her smiling at him. “Come on in,” she said, going back inside.
Chuck started to step forward, when Casey’s arm shot out, holding him back. Chuck turned to him. “You two figure things out?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Chuck replied.
Casey studied him, grunted, smirked, and nodded. “Let’s go in,” he said, as he headed to the door. Chuck shook his head and followed.
}o{
Chuck flicked on the lights and looked around the room. He felt the beginning of a flash, but nothing came. Something was bothering him. “Okay guys, there’s something here, but I can’t put my finger on it. Do either of you have any ideas?”
“I do have one,” Casey said, and walked outside. Chuck watched him go and then turned around to Sarah.
“What was that about?” Chuck asked. “Is he giving us alone time?”
“Why would he give us alone time, Chuck?” Sarah asked. Chuck started to reply, but Sarah cut him off. “What I’m asking is, how would he know we need alone time?”
“Oh,” Chuck replied, and then swallowed. “He may have mentioned to me a while back that this whole thing might…I don’t know…get to you and you might…be…maybe…interested in me?”
“I might be maybe interested in you?” Sarah asked. “Chuck, what do you think?”
“I think no matter what I’m going to say it’s going to end badly for me,” Chuck replied.
She stared at him and then she began to laugh. “Chuck, I think it’s safe to say, I am interested in you.”
“That’s good,” Chuck replied. “So, one day, when this is over….” Chuck trailed off.
“Spies tend to think, mission to mission,” Sarah said. Chuck nodded. “I think this is the first time I’ve thought about my life post-mission. I think I also have not been very clear with you, so I need to be, when I think about life, post-mission, I think about you in it.”
Chuck smiled at her. “I think about you as well…after this is over…and now…and…oh hell,” he said, laughing at himself, and leaning against a wall. As he leaned his shoulder hit the painting that was there, and it moved just a fraction of an inch, and his head began to seize…and then it stopped.
“What the hell was that?” Sarah asked, holding him. He had no idea how she got there that fast.
“The start of a flash,” Chuck said. He looked at the painting and realized he had straightened it by leaning where he did. “Wait…what was it he said?” Chuck thought for a moment.
“When we grew up, we didn’t know what autism is, we didn’t know about Asperger’s, but we knew Michael was special. He liked order, he was amazing with filing things, organizing, and keeping secrets.”
“The guy who did this-” Chuck began. The door opened, making both of them turn. Casey ignored them and walked in, stepping and counting. When he got to the back wall, he turned toward them, grinning.
“Five feet,” Casey said. “The house is five feet longer on the outside then the inside.”
“What does that mean?” Sarah asked.
“Secret room?” Chuck asked.
“Nope,” Casey said, shaking his head. “Secret stairs, you told us in the debrief that there was too much paper to fit in the area of this house. I called our contact you met, and he found the amount of property owned. There are acres of land with nothing on it, that our contact now owns by the way.”
“Then how do we get in?” Sarah asked.
Chuck looked around the room they were in. The painting was now straightened. He glanced at a book shelf, and saw a book a little pulled out in contrast to the others. He winced with the onset of the flash but it didn’t come. He pushed the book back in, lining up with all the others. He turned and saw a vase on a table, an inch away from center, and that’s when it hit him. He dropped to one knee from the flash.
“Chuck!” Sarah yelled.
“Casey, center that vase,” Chuck told him. Casey scowled at him. “I know you, you’re a sniper, you know distances.” Casey grunted and moved the vase. They heard a loud groan, and all three turned to the wall, as a wall pulled away showing a stair case.
Before anyone could stop him, Chuck headed down the stairs, Sarah and Casey yelling and continuing behind him. “Holy shit,” he muttered.
“Holy shit,” Sarah muttered.
“Christ,” Casey muttered. In every which way, that the eye could see was filing cabinets. “What the hell have you found, Bartowski?”
“I have no idea,” Chuck replied. “No idea.”