Chapter 15
I don’t own Chuck
Chuck found himself in the same cafe two days later. He had no soup this time, and was looking across the table at Simon Roth. Casey hadn’t told him his rank or which branch of the military Simon was in, but Chuck was about positive he was Air Force given the location of the meet and the closeness of Cheyenne Mountain. “So is there really a Stargate inside?” Chuck blurted out, making the man across from him chuckle.
“No, there is no Stargate,” Roth answered.
“That’s exactly what you’d say if there was a Stargate,” Chuck pointed out. Roth chuckled. “Do you know the name Jonathan Lindsey?” Roth froze. Chuck nodded. “I’m going to take that as a yes.”
“I need to tell you a story,” Roth said, looking around. “I have a younger brother, Michael.” Chuck nodded. “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.”
Roth sat his jaw for a second, and fought down whatever emotion was in him. “Cecil Martin knew that about my brother. The two of them had a bond. Of course, at the time, he was no longer going by the name Cecil Martin.”
“Wait, Cecil is alive?” Chuck asked. Roth shook his head.
“Heart attack,” Roth told him. Chuck tried to hide the wince but he knew Roth had seen it. “He disappeared, erased every bit of his identity to hide from someone.”
“Who?” Chuck asked, hoping he knew the answer.
“No idea,” Roth replied. “However, Cecil still had the ability to get to files, and he made copies, tons of copies. There was so much paper.” Roth shook his head. There was silence for a moment. Roth sighed, reached into his pocket, making Chuck’s eyes widen. “Relax, if I pulled out a gun, Casey would have a bullet between my eyes before I could pull the trigger.”
“He’s that good?” Chuck asked. Roth nodded. Roth pulled out a key from his pocket. “What is that?”
“I have no idea,” Roth admitted. “Cecil hired Michael to take care of the paperwork, to file it as he saw fit.” Chuck sat back in his seat, thinking back to last night.
}o{
Last night
“We’re going about this the wrong way,” Sarah told him, sitting up in bed.
“I mean, it’s been a bit for me, but I thought I was doing okay,” Chuck replied. Sarah turned toward him, fighting the smile as she shook her head at him. “So not…” he gestured between them.
“Trust me, you’re nailing that,” Sarah replied. Chuck tried not to look too pleased with himself. “But, we need to look at what I’ve done most recently.”
“And any that had special instructions,” Chuck added. Chuck felt her tense beside him. “Johnathan Lindsey,” Sarah whispered. “I was to give him a shot that simulated a heart attack.” Chuck sat up. “What?”
“I tried to flash,” Chuck said, shaking his head. “It’s like it’s part of something bigger. Do you mind if I-” Chuck began gesturing toward his computer. Sarah made a shooing notion. Chuck grabbed the laptop and began to type, Sarah had her arms wrapped around his nearest bicep. He stopped typing.
“What is it?” Sarah asked. Chuck glanced at her, sadness in his eyes. “Damn it,” she muttered. “Think he was innocent?”
“I doubt it,” Chuck replied. “But I don’t think he was guilty at all of what Graham had him down for. Between his history and the near flash, it screams this is someone Graham had killed for personal reasons.”
“So who is he?” Sarah asked. Chuck had no idea.
}o{
Now
“Johnathan Lindsey is Cecil Martin,” Chuck muttered. Roth nodded. “Sir, is Peter Bishop actually your brother, Michael Roth?” Roth nodded and the flash began.
}o{
Last night
“Is that the last person you were told to…” Chuck trailed off.
“Kill?” Sarah asked. Chuck nodded. “No, and I know you don’t mean you on that list. There was one other, I was told to do this one with a sniper rifle, long range.”
“Who was it?” Chuck asked.
“Peter Bishop,” Sarah answered. Chuck winced, but shook his head in frustration. “An almost-flash?” Chuck nodded. “Are they as annoying as an almost-sneeze?”
“Worse,” Chuck told her.
}o{
Now
“You okay?” Roth asked. Chuck nodded, and took a drink of water. “What the hell was that?”
“That is my version of a star-gate,” Chuck told Roth.
“So I don’t get to know, got it,” Roth said. Chuck started to speak, but Roth held up his hand. “I get it, need-to-know.” Roth handed Chuck the key he had pulled out of his pocket. “After the two died, I received a package, that contained two things in it, that key and an address. I had no idea what it was about, but I knew enough not to personally go investigate. I went to one of my satellite techs and asked him next time there was a camera near by to give me a look see. A few hours later I got a telephone call.” Roth paused, building suspense.
“Why the drama?” Chuck asked.
“Because if I tell you this, it may get you killed,” Roth answered.
“What if I told you the man you think killed your father’s friend and brother put a hit out on me as well?” Chuck asked.
“How are you alive?”
“Technically I’m not,” Chuck answered. Roth nodded.
“There was nothing there but a house, a small one, nothing that would hold the amount of papers that Michael was put in charge of,” Roth said. “But that wasn’t the most important part.” Roth looked around and then leaned forward. Chuck did as well. “The satellite had already been moved to look at that address.” Chuck’s eyes widened. “It was a CIA request.”
“Graham,” Chuck muttered.
Roth shrugged. “Never was told a name, and I’ve learned not to ask.”
“Anything else I should know?”
“If you don’t figure this out, he will find you and kill you,” Roth told him. “He doesn’t quit. Until he has a body, he doesn’t quit.” Roth slid out of the seat. “Good luck,” he said, and with that he walked out. Chuck saw Sarah come in, but before he could speak, she grabbed his arm, and gently, but firmly, pulled him from the table, and the two left in a hurry. They took off into the night.
“Where are we going?” Sarah asked.
Chuck flipped the tag on the key and looked at it. “Wyoming,” he told her. Sarah nodded and pushed her foot down on the accelerator.