A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. I've fallen into a pattern of longish chapters, probably because I enjoy longer stories and updates myself. That might change in the future as I start posting shorter but more frequent updates. I guess time will tell.


Monday morning would have dawned bright and clear except for the pall of reddish-brown haze that hung over the city like a veil, mirroring Sarah's mood. She'd known it was coming, but the reality of the crime scene in her pants that morning had her feeling snappish and irritable.

She stood on the deck staring out over the city as she sipped her coffee and silently berated herself for not appreciating how truly wonderful her life was at that time and place. It felt… miraculous. It was really the only word that seemed appropriate. The night before had been their first night together that they hadn't slept naked, cuddled into each other in post-coital bliss. Chuck had looked at her questioningly when she showed up after her shower wearing drawstring pajamas and one his t-shirts. She'd given him a flat look and seen the understanding dawn on him. He'd simply slipped on a pair of boxers and cuddled into her the same as every night.

She found herself thinking about the day before that they'd spent at his old apartment, packing his things. They spent more time organizing than actually packing. They'd barely made a dent in all the stuff he had, but they both felt like they could take their time and enjoy the process. He'd told her stories from his childhood as they encountered various items that triggered memories for him, which was nearly everything. A lot of his memories included Morgan and she felt herself developing an even stronger affinity for the bearded little man, almost as if her affection for Chuck was so great that it was spilling over. It had been a truly special day for her as she felt herself learning more about Chuck, becoming more in tune with the boy he'd been and thus more connected to the man he'd become. She felt a little sad that she couldn't reciprocate and made a mental note to do her best to be more open with him about her experiences with her father as a young girl, as unpleasant as many of them were.

Sharing her history had always been anathema to her and still was to a certain extent, with everyone but Chuck and maybe Carina. She found herself enjoying talking to him about her past, even if she shaded over some of the darker points in her previous life.

She heard Chuck come out onto the deck before he stepped up and hugged her from behind. "Ah, the smog of LA adds such a pleasant muddy tint to the sky, doesn't it?" He said wistfully, earning a snort from Sarah as she ran her hand back and forth across his forearm.

He nuzzled her as he spoke. "So even though it's my day off from Buy More work, I'm going to go in and really dig into all the servers and stuff, get to work on that. It will take me a few days to get things built to the point they're usable, and then we'll have to do some training."

Sarah shivered at the feel of his breath on her neck. "Start keeping track of the hours you put in on everything related to the Task Force. Your Carmichael legend should be done today, so you can incorporate a company around that identity and use it to bill the task force for your work. I'll find a company in the accounts I have access to that lines up with the work you'll be doing, and you'll bill that company as a consultant. Remember we want a firewall between your real identity and the Task Force," she said as she turned around to look at him. "The Carmichael identity is real for all intents and purposes. It will even have a security clearance on file with the FBI and the CIA."

"You don't mind if I do my own follow up on that identity do you? It's not that I don't trust other hackers, but I really don't trust other hackers," he said.

"Not at all. I understand wanting to verify someone else's work," she said, smiling as she tugged on his ridiculous grey polyester tie. She would forever associate it with him and sort of loved the thing.

"What's on your agenda for the day?" he asked.

"Carina and I are going to LAPD to meet with the Vice Division at their morning roll call. We're actively recruiting for the Task Force starting today."

"Ok, well if you're anywhere near Burbank at lunch time, look me up," he said as he leaned down to kiss her.

She smiled as she pulled back and said, "It's a date. And don't scratch my Porsche. You break it, you bought it."

"Oh, I'm taking the Audi today, so no worries," he said, "Play nice with the LAPD." He gave her another kiss before he left. She wanted more than a kiss and sighed her frustration into the warm morning air.

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Sarah and Carina were seated in the nicely appointed office of Captain Anita Bell, the head of the LAPD Vice Division, while the morning roll call was in progress. Their announcement regarding recruitment for the Task Force was going to be a last minute addition to the agenda before the group rolled out on their various assignments.

Captain Bell was a handsome yet formidable woman in her early forties with very dark skin and piercing dark eyes. She was obviously not happy with the two agents sitting in front of her, staring at them as if she couldn't decide whether to arrest them or skip straight to their execution.

"I'm not going to beat around the bush here Agent Walker. I don't like this. At all. I appreciate that you were able to get that training grant pushed through for us, but we're not going to realize any tangible benefits from that for at least six months. We are understaffed here already and you poaching two of my senior people is going to hurt us. It's going to hurt the communities that we serve," she said bluntly. "I recognize what you and your team did on Saturday morning. It looks like a really clean take down, even if the timing stretches credulity. A person could be forgiven for thinking you guys timed that operation to put yourselves in the best possible light with my people and attract the best talent."

Sarah couldn't help but laugh a little, even though Captain Bell was obviously not amused. "I think you're giving the FBI too much credit here, Captain Bell. We're good, but that's a little Machiavellian, even for us. I'm trying to ramp-up a covert, undercover operation. The last thing I wanted to do was run an op that has us on the front page. That's why I was more than happy to let LAPD take all the credit for the operation. We had no choice but to do what was necessary to get our target out of harm's way. I'm happy we were able to shut down the SSMC and rescue those women, but if I'd had a more covert option open to me at the time, I probably would have taken it," she said. Sarah knew that it wasn't true, but it sounded good.

Captain Bell's expression said she was dubious at best and the grunt she made reminded Sarah of Coburn. The two were seemingly cut from the same cloth. "Ultimately my feelings on this matter are irrelevant," she said with a grimace, as if the fact left an unpleasant taste in her mouth. "I'm under orders from the Deputy Chief. I just wanted it on the record where I stand on this."

"I can appreciate that, Captain. Trust me when I tell you that this is not how I wanted to recruit for this particular Task Force either. We both find ourselves in situations we wouldn't have chosen. I'm trying to make the best of mine and I'm sure you are as well," Sarah said honestly.

The Captain looked at her watch. "Roll call will be ending in a few minutes. You may as well get out there. I'm not going to bullshit you by saying it was nice to meet you," the Captain said plainly.

As they opened the door to leave, the Captain called out, saying, "And Agent Walker," Sarah turned back. "You treat my people right. I hear anything to the contrary and you and I will have a meeting much less pleasant than this one," she gave Sarah a look that she understood completely.

Sarah nodded respectfully and said, "I would expect nothing less, Captain Bell."

As Sarah pulled the door closed, Carina looked at her and whispered, "Wow, she's a badass!"

Sarah gave her own grunt and nodded. "Too bad we can't recruit her for the team. Let's get this over with," She said motioning to the glass walled roll-call room down the hallway.

As they walked into the room, Sarah immediately saw the detectives from Saturday morning in the front row and recognized many of the other faces as well. The room went quiet as the nearly fifty detectives and officers in the room realized who they were. Pretty much all of them had been called in to help transport the women the SSMC had been using to various hospitals in the area.

In what almost looked like a coordinated event without anyone prompting them, they all stood up and offered a raucous round of applause to the two Federal agents. The Lieutenant standing at the podium running the meeting let it go on for longer than Sarah would have liked. Neither Sarah or Carina were terribly comfortable with overt displays of recognition like this and it had been unexpected.

"All right, everybody, quiet down and take your seats," the Lieutenant said holding up his hands. It took a few more seconds for them to do as instructed. "You all obviously recognize our two guests. Two of the four-person FBI team that took down the SSMC Saturday morning and rescued more than sixty women from their sex trafficking operation. I was told before roll call began this morning that they are here with some information to share," he looked at Sarah. "Agent Walker we were just wrapping up. You have the floor." The Lieutenant took an empty seat at one of the tables.

Carina walked over to a white-board and wrote an email address in bold block letters across the top. It was very simple and easy to remember. Sarah stepped up to the front of the room and said, "Good morning, everyone." There were some scattered "Good morning," replies. She looked at Carina as she rolled her eyes. "Wow, that was really bad, wasn't it?" she asked.

"Pathetic," Carina said, shaking her head sadly as she moved to the back of the room and leaned against the wall.

"I'm sorry," Sarah said looking around the room and taking on a confused expression. "Did I accidentally come into the Sad-Sack Division of the LAPD? I was looking for the bad-ass Vice Division of the LAPD." There was laughter around the room. "Good morning, everyone!" Sarah repeated a little more emphatically.

"Good Morning!" The room bellowed.

Sarah beamed at them. "Excellent, thank you!" She waited a moment to let a round of laughter die down. "As most of you already know, I am Special Agent Sarah Walker with the FBI, and this is my colleague, Agent Carina Miller," Carina gave a little wave and smile, eliciting more chuckles. "I know you're all very busy so I will be brief. It may come as a surprise that my meeting with all of you today has nothing to do with the events of Saturday morning. I am heading up a newly formed Task Force for the FBI. The events of Saturday were something of an unexpected development that were ancillary to the efforts of the Task Force, but not in any way stemming directly from it. I'm telling you this in advance to avoid confusion. I want everyone to understand that this is absolutely not the kind of work that my Task Force will be focusing on," Sarah paused for a moment to let that sink in.

"With that said, I have been authorized by Captain Bell and Deputy Chief Davis to select two voluntary candidates from the LAPD Vice Division to join this Task Force for a period of six-months with an option to renew for an additional six-months at the candidate's discretion. Upon completion of the six-month term, the candidates will return to their positions at the LAPD with an immediate bump up to the next rank. Detective 1 will immediately become Detective 2, 2 to 3 and so on, across the scale for Detectives, Sergeants and Lieutenants. You will also receive a letter of commendation for your service from the Director of the FBI that will go in your permanent file and a meritorious service ribbon to wear on your dress blues. A twelve-month term could qualify the candidate for a double-bump, but you will still need to fulfill any other LAPD testing requirements for the double-bump. I will have Agent Miller step up in a moment and go over more detail regarding what kind of skills we are looking for. Any questions before that?" Sarah asked. She noticed there were several shocked faces. Two promotions in a twelve-month timeframe was unprecedented in LAPD.

"Why are you going outside the FBI for people?" This from the Lieutenant who'd been running the meeting.

Sarah shook her head. "I can't tell you. I can only tell the candidates who are selected. Once they are selected, they will be operating under the National Security Act and will be prohibited from talking about it."

"What kind of work will this Task Force be focusing on?" asked one of the Detectives in front.

"A mix of investigative, surveillance, undercover, data analysis and counter-intelligence."

"Where will you be operating out of?" asked someone from the back of the room.

"Burbank, eventually," she answered. "The Task Force is only a week old. We're still working on a temporary space."

"Who will be paying our salaries if we get selected?"

"LAPD will continue to pay your base salaries at their current level. This is primarily to maintain your seniority levels and avoid any interruptions in your service record. Overtime pay, of which there will be significant amounts, as well as a per-diem, will come from the Task Force." There were some whistles and claps at that information. Everyone knew that getting approval for overtime was a nightmare in the budget constrained LAPD.

"How many people will be on the Task Force once it's fully staffed?"

"I'm looking to recruit at least twenty candidates so approximately twenty-four total including the four of us already on the team. That number may go up as the Task Force uncovers new information. We will be going to other cities to do this exact spiel with other Vice Divisions and those candidates will be looking at a relocation situation, so keep in mind you'll be working with other Detectives from all over the country. The LA candidates will take on leadership roles as the teams are constructed because of your familiarity with the city and that's where we will have our focus to start. These roles may change as the Task Force progresses with its assigned mission. In addition to being on-call 24/7, travel will also be required, potentially for significant periods of time so for those of you with young families, keep that in mind before you submit yourselves for consideration to the Task Force."

"Domestic or international travel?"

"Yes," Sarah said, earning some laughs.

"When would the accepted candidates actually begin working for the Task Force?"

"As soon as is feasible for the candidate, but no more than a few days." Sarah said.

"How long will it take you to pick your candidates?"

"It depends on how many of you apply. If we only get two applicants, it won't take long at all," she said, earning additional laughs.

There was a pause in the flow of questions until someone asked, "Is it true you tased Jimmy Fletcher in the balls?" The question generated another round of laughter from the room.

Sarah smiled. "As I told detective Garcia who took my statement," Sarah indicated one of the female detectives up front who nodded back. "I specifically remember tasing him in the neck to render him unconscious. I tased Jimmy Fletcher in order to protect his safety and mine because he was thrashing around in a violent and unpredictable manner. It is entirely possible that in his violent movements, he was also tased in some other unspecified place upon his person." Sarah knew that Jimmy Fletcher was thrashing around in a violent and unpredictable manner because he'd been tased in the balls.

The detective who had posed the question looked at one of his colleagues setting next to him but spoke loudly. "Fuckin' things were the size of lemons when we got there. Mine hurt just thinking about it," he said, laughing boisterously along with the rest of the room.

"Any other questions?" Sarah asked after the laughter died down. The room seemed satisfied, so she continued. "Ok, I'll let Agent Miller come up and talk about what exactly we're looking for."

Sarah traded places with Carina and as she stepped up to the front of the room she said, "Good morning."

"Good Morning!" Everyone bellowed back to her, followed by laughter.

"Fuck yeah, they learn quick!" she said to Sarah. "That's a good sign." Carina rubbed her hands together. "Ok, so the reason we chose Vice to recruit from is because we need the skills that you guys specialize in. First and foremost, we need candidates familiar with surveillance, both from an in-person standpoint, with eyes on the mark, as well as rolling in teams, and of course electronic. We need you to already have some knowledge of and experience with the tools and procedures associated with covertly tracking a mark and working in tandem with a team. How many of you can walk into a room and know the best places to plant a bug?" Carina asked and every hand in the room went up. "Excellent. We also need people with good experience working undercover, we need people good with information analysis skills, seeing patterns in things, not being afraid to speak up when you see something no one else does. Those that trust their instincts, but aren't blinded by them.

"We expect that a number of our agents will be doing very targeted undercover work. They would be given a cover legend and a mark and be expected to carry out assignments related to that in an ongoing way. Not deep undercover, but similar to it. Agent Walker wasn't kidding about travel and overtime. I'm telling you now, this will be a very demanding job requiring a high-level of commitment. If you're in a new relationship you think might be promising, forget it. Newly married or with kids on the way? Forget it.

"However, we are not going to discriminate on this. If you submit your name and badge number to that email address-" she pointed over her shoulder to the whiteboard. "-you will get full consideration regardless of your marital status. But if you come to us married, you might not be when you leave us. Own your choices here people. You will be on-call twenty-four-seven, as already mentioned. All prior engagements scheduled in the next six months need to be considered cancelled. Best Man or Maid of Honor at a wedding in the next six months? Sorry, can't make it. Won a trip to Cancun for a week? Sorry, can't make it. A death in the immediate family during the next six months is about the only thing that will excuse a candidate from this service and even that will be limited to a couple of weeks bereavement leave. Is everybody picking up what I'm laying down so far?" Carina asked.

There were a lot of nods and somber faces after her speech.

"That's a pretty big ask for most of us," someone said from the back of the room.

Carina nodded. "You're absolutely right, it is. How many of you are up for a guaranteed bump in the next six months?" A few hands went up. "How many of you are up for a double-bump in the next twelve?"

"That's unheard of," the same voice said.

Carina's demeanor changed and she suddenly seemed more dangerous than she had just a few moments earlier. The friendly, joking attitude was gone.

"It's unheard of. You think that's an accident?" she asked looking around the room, making direct eye contact with several officers before she continued. "Guys, no more fucking around. I'm not going to try to sell you on all the money you'll make with overtime, or per-diem or any other potential perks the selected applicants might be looking at. Who in this room is here for the money or perks?" Everyone sat still. "Exactly. Listen, I used to be where you guys are. Before I became a Fed, I cut my teeth with the NYPD Vice. I was there on 9/11. I lost friends that day," Carina said solemnly as the faces in the room became more intent. "I know why you do what you do. You're here for the work. It's frustrating, it's tedious, but it's also goddamn rewarding. I don't mean to devalue what you guys do. You all do important, valuable work that saves lives. But I shit you not, what we're offering here is a seat at the Grown-Ups table." She looked around the room and gave them all the full weight of her experience in the field.

"This Task Force is going to be doing some seriously important work and I would rather walk out of here empty handed than take on anyone who isn't fully committed. You sign up, you better be ready to make this job your life for the next six to twelve months. Or I will tase you in the balls." A few chuckles started up, but a directed glare from Carina shut them down when they saw not a hint of humor in her eyes.

"Ok, like I said, the way to sign up is you send an email with your name and badge number to the email address on the board. You have until tomorrow at midnight to submit your name, after which, we will ignore LAPD submissions. After that we're taking our show on the road. Keep in mind I will be back here tonight to give the night-shift crew the same speech and we can only take two of you. Thank you all for your time," The Vice Division day shift all stood up and started filing out of the room.

Carina walked over to Sarah and asked, "What do you think?"

Sarah shrugged. "I guess we'll see. You were laying it on pretty thick at the end. Think you scared any of them off?" she asked with a small smile.

"If I did then we don't want them anyway," she said.

"Yeah, and you weren't wrong either. We need only the truly committed, not tourists or looky-loos."

"I was also thinking, and don't rat me out to HR, that we should prioritize the female candidates. We're probably going to be looking at a lot of male targets," Carina said with a shrug. "The five new ones we have on our radar are all men."

"You're assuming they're all straight men," Sarah said with a wry smile.

"Just playing the odds," Carina said simply. "So what now, Boss?"

"I want to check in with Bryce, see where he's at with that prison facility."

"I know he's been working on it pretty much non-stop."

"Good. Let's go see what he's come up with."

Sarah called ahead to let Bryce know they were coming by the hotel to get a status update and he was putting an ad-hoc presentation together when she and Carina arrived. He had his laptop plugged in to the television mounted on the wall so they could see it without crowding around his laptop.

As soon as they were seated, Bryce jumped right in to his plan. "So I got word back this morning on a hold deposit for the facility and it would be basically the same as leasing it – about forty grand a month. But the current owner was honest enough to say he hasn't had any leads in the time it's been empty."

"Should we put a deposit on it?" Sarah asked.

"No, I think we should just go ahead and sign a lease – you tell me for how long. I've got two primary options to run by you, but the facility is good, it's close enough and our baseline option is a milk run. I would have liked something a little closer, but in reality, the remote location is an advantage. And a two or three-hour drive isn't that bad. If we can arrange for access to a Blackhawk, even better."

"Ok, let's hear it," Sarah said.

"So, the baseline is pretty much what we already discussed. Lease the facility through a private prison front group. Use private military contractors as guards but dress them up in typical civilian prison guard garb. This is the easiest plan to follow, but in my opinion, it does have some downsides,"

"Such as?"

"Well for starters, it's an information giveaway. We're telling our detainees that they're on US soil. This could create a sense of advantage among the more seasoned among them. By bringing them onto US soil, the rules change dramatically in their favor, at least in theory. They will likely feel emboldened and harden their policy of silence. We might be able to play the guards off as weak and see if any of them try to make a move that way, but the thing about the private military contractors is that like Carina said, they're mostly former Special Operations guys and they take their jobs seriously. They're all crazy fit, and they have an undeniable military feel to them. They won't look or feel like typical prison guards who go home, drink a six pack of Bud with their pizza and watch ESPN all night. I think trying to sell them as typical prison guards will be as hard, if not harder, than my recommended plan. But, it's our baseline, like I said, it gets our friends close. Completely doable and can happen pretty quickly."

"Ok, I agree with pretty much all of that. Talk to me about variations on the theme."

"There's only one," Bryce said as he toggled to the next screen in his presentation. "My recommended plan is admittedly pretty bold, but I feel like I've accounted for each step in the process, and it plays to our strengths. The basic premise is what we discussed before – make them think they've been transported to a really unfriendly part of the world - specifically somewhere in Afghanistan. The only conclusion for them to draw will be that they are being prepped for torture and disposal. That the CIA can't risk word of their existence getting out. It's really not far from the truth and part of me is surprised someone else didn't actually do what I'm proposing, only for real."

Bryce indicated each bullet point item on the presentation as he spoke. "The first step is, we borrow a C-17 and a couple of flight crews and get them along with our contractors to Gitmo. We outfit our contractors like Marines with appropriate ranks for two squads. Right before lights-out at Gitmo, so they're already nice and sleepy, we load our friends onto the C-17. We have an almost 12-hour time zone disparity between where we want them to think they are and where they'll actually be, so in addition to hoods, we put sleep masks on them. We close the shades and proceed to fly them in a big circle for seventeen hours until we land at Vandenberg.

"We don't let them sleep much of the flight, wake everybody up for periodic bathroom breaks, et cetera. By the time they're on the ground at VAB, they'll be exhausted and they won't have any idea where they are. Now Vandenberg is our biggest point of exposure, but I think it would be fairly easy to taxi out to a hanger on the outskirts and clear the area beforehand. The idea is to control sight and sound in the immediate vicinity. Like I said, we have to keep them masked and hooded. We march them to an old DC-3 and fly them an hour out to a dirt airfield near the facility in the Mojave that we prep in advance, Here the fake marines hand off to our on-site military contractors.

"At the dirt airfield, still keeping them masked and hooded, we load them into a US military spec prisoner transport bus and we haul them a couple of miles across the Mojave to the facility. The facility will use obvious contractors without rank or branch of service identifiers. We only use military spec vehicles to enter and leave the facility. The last item of disinformation is we set up a bull horn out in the desert to play a call to prayer five times each day. It will sound like it's coming from a distant village. By then they will be so worn-out and travel weary that they won't know up from down. Our contractors get to be contractors, and we're not giving any information away that we don't control."

Sarah thought about it for several minutes as she analyzed each step in the process. He was right that a big point of exposure was being on the ground at Vandenberg for any length of time but that actually was pretty easy to manage. And being masked in addition to hooded, they wouldn't be able to see anything. Keep the turbines spooling on the C-17 and they wouldn't hear much either. She did see a couple of potential flaws at the facility, however.

"I like it, but I have some concerns about the facility itself. Any buildings or facilities run by US personnel in the region we're trying to make them believe they're in have strict protocols about controlling straight line access. They use Jersey walls to create zig-zag patterns and choke-points in the approach, obviously to deter suicide bomb runs. Also, they build thirty or forty foot look-out towers around the perimeter. Can we do that?"

Bryce nodded. "I was getting to that and the short answer is yes we can. Like I said the facility is way out in the middle of nowhere. First off, no one is going to care, and second, I've already gotten approval for that from the management company. We sign a multi-year lease and we can do pretty much whatever we want as long as we fix it or remove it when the lease is up."

Sarah nodded appreciatively. "The next item is the inside of the facility. Contractors have built dozens of these types of sites in the region we're trying to mimic, but this building will need to be scrubbed room by room for any give-a-ways. Tags on cushions, mattresses, logos on furniture, manufacturer stamps on things like faucets and toilets, whatever. And anything we can do to the building to make it more authentic. Regional artwork, rugs, furniture, that kind of thing. Carina, you have anything to add?"

She nodded. "I'm assuming you're got them in sleep masks because of the daylight disparity with the time difference?"

"Yeah, that's another of our exposure points, but the way we overcome it is confusion and limit input from their surroundings," Bryce said.

Carina paused for a moment. "Maybe not all of them, but some of them are going to be cognizant enough to recognize the disparity when you finally unmask them. If it's dark when you start a long ass flight, it should be dark when you get there. In this case, it's not going to be."

"You're right," he admitted. "The best solution I could come up with is once we get them in their cells at the facility, before we unmask them, we hit them with a twilight dart. After that journey and being tranq'd, they'll be out for hours. Most everyone will wake up sometime in the small hours of the next morning with a bad headache and a lot of fear. They won't have any idea what day it is, and only guesses as to where they are."

Sarah thought about it for a few moments. "I think that could work. Anything else, Carina?"

"Yeah, rather than use a private prison front group to lease the facility, see if we can work a deal with the private military contractor to have them lease it and call it a training facility," she said. "That way, if it ever comes up, it's easy to explain to outsiders the strange towers and protected approach."

"That should be pretty easy to work out with the private military firm," Sarah said.

Carina continued, saying, "The other thing is regarding landing at Vandenberg. It's right on the Pacific Ocean, which has a very unique smell to it, different from the Atlantic or the Gulf or the Caribbean. If I can recognize it, so can any one of our friends and it will destroy your illusion. Put a mixture of essential oils on the hoods. Something rank and irritating like carrot seed and patchouli."

Bryce smiled. "That's pretty smart DEA," he said to her as he tapped his temple.

Sarah looked at it again from start to finish. "I like it. Good work. How long to get it moving?"

"We need to find an area where we can prep a dirt landing strip that can handle a DC-3, sanitize the building, build the security items you mentioned. I estimate at least three weeks before we can initiate the transfer process," he answered.

"Let's get the ball rolling. Start contract proceedings for a two-year lease on the facility. I'll get in touch with the private military contractor. And send me a secure email outlining the overall plan in general terms," Sarah's to-do list was getting longer, and she didn't want things slipping through the cracks.

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Sarah returned home after the meeting with Bryce and started working through a checklist of items she needed to do, most of which was transferring literally millions of dollars to various entities, including Stanton Construction. She also worked with an escrow agent to setup an escrow account for the purchase of the strip mall.

She picked up her phone to call a banker in New York regarding bundling Rebecca Wright's properties when it suddenly rang in her hand, startling her. She smiled when she saw it was Chuck. "Hey, hot stuff!" she said as she answered.

He did a variation of the Vicky Vale riff he'd done on the phone using a high-pitched, then low pitched falsetto voice. "Vick-ah-Vicky-Vale, vickety-vickety-vickety!" Sarah couldn't help but laugh as she was taken back nearly three weeks earlier and saw that stricken look on his face as the phone slipped off his shoulder.

"Thank you for the flash-back, you adorable nerd," she said.

"Can you believe that was only like twenty days ago?" he asked. "It's true, I just looked at a calendar."

"I get the feeling the next few days are going to be the longest," she said with a pout.

She heard him make a dismissive noise. "We'll be fine. Being horny never killed anyone. There's no such thing as terminal horniness, right?" he asked with a chuckle.

"I guess we'll find out," she replied. "So what's up?"

"Well, my lawyer sent over his evaluation of the contract this morning. He said some sections just needed a little fine-tuning, which he included in his draft, but that overall everything looked good. I sent his draft to corporate and they just came back with confirmation that they accepted it. Looks like I'm going over there at noon to sign it, so I won't be available for lunch after all. This will be the meeting where we bring Big Mike in the loop on what's going to happen."

"Have you invited the team over for the pizza party tomorrow night?" she asked.

"I have, and everybody is coming. I mean it's just Anna, Jeff, Lester and Chip. And Morgan overheard so he's coming as well. He's sort of an honorary Nerd Herder anyway."

"Ok, well good luck and let me know how it goes," she said.

"Will do. Love you!" he said happily.

"Love you too, Chuck!" she said with a smile. God, what has that man done to me?

Not ten seconds after she hung up with Chuck, her phone rang startling her for the second time. "Hey, Carina, what's up?"

"We've got three applicants already from LA Vice Division. And I think we've got one slot filled," Carina said excitedly.

"Ok, let me hear it."

"Veronica Garcia."

"She was the detective in charge of the scene Saturday morning. I remember thinking she seemed very competent. I was hoping she might apply."

"Yeah, she's a Detective 2 rank, one the youngest in all of LAPD at 29 years old. One of their roles is to oversee officers and newer Detectives. She's got a master's in criminal justice, but she bootstrapped herself. Took her eight years to do it, but she did it, while working LAPD full time. Joined the force at 21, finished top of her class at the academy, did four years on patrol all the way to Officer 3 rank with no flags in her file, and actually saw some action on the street a few times, mostly gang related. Took the detectives exam, again top of the class and got promoted right away to Detective 1 where she requested Vice Division. She did two solid years working undercover and got several commendations for meritorious service taking down some real Jimmy Fletcher type scum bags. She's done countless surveillance operations. She knows how to build and maintain relationships with informants. She's got the investigative chops. And not that this matters, but she's hot too."

"Where does she fall short?" Sarah asked.

"Well, her hand-to-hand combat marks are decent, but not anywhere near our level, and her marksmanship is only average. Lots of room for improvement there. Nothing a good instructor and few thousand rounds on the range won't fix."

"Ok, I'm liking what I'm hearing. What about the other two submissions?" Sarah asked.

"They're both good, just not quite to Detective Garcia's level. Both men. First one is Taylor McFarland, Detective 1, also 29 years old, bachelor's degree in psychology from California State. Joined the force out of college. No red flags in his file. Some undercover work but it's spotty and inconsistent, like he couldn't find a groove with it. Again, lots of surveillance, which is Vice Division's bread and butter. They'll all have that. Good grades but not great. Some commendations. Has built up and worked informants. He's a solid candidate, but not a stand out. His hand-to-hand marks are really good, as is his marksmanship, but again, not quite at our level."

"And the last one?"

"Michael Washington, 27, Detective 1, relatively new to the unit at just over a year in. Bachelor's degree in Criminology, again joined the force out of college. Has some pretty stand out reports from his years working Patrol which seemed to fast track him. He's got some letters of recognition from Detectives that worked with him which is golden. Detectives don't just give those out on a whim. He has some undercover work, but they don't let rookie's too far off the leash with that. He scored well on the Detectives exam and also requested Vice. Again, lots of hours on surveillance and also built and worked informants while on Patrol. His marksmanship scores are very good, but his hand-to-hand is where he really shines. He's an amateur MMA fighter. If no one else applies, he'd probably be my second choice."

"Well, you're going to be running them Carina, I'm not going to second guess you. If I haven't said it already, the first ten are going to report to you, the second ten to Bryce. We'll set them up in five-man squads with a Sergeant level leader for each squad reporting directly to the two of you. We need to build a command and control structure for the teams similar to what they're already used to. Since Bryce is going to be focusing his efforts on the plan to move our friends from Gitmo, I'm leaving the recruiting up to you."

"Ok, sounds good. I'll start setting up interviews for tomorrow seeing as how I have to do the spiel again tonight. I'll start with my least favorites and work my way up."

"Works for me," Sarah said.

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It was a little after two o'clock in the afternoon as Sarah watched the large wood and steel privacy gate slowly slide to the left as the beautiful Spanish Mediterranean house was revealed. She pulled her Porsche into the circular drive and parked in front of the main entrance behind a late model Mercedes sedan. She saw Rebecca Wright standing at the front door waiting for her.

Sarah got out of the car and smiled as she walked up to Rebecca, noticing the dark circles under her eyes and was a little surprised at the strong hug the petite woman pulled her into.

"It's really good to see you, Sarah," she said as she seemed to reluctantly let go.

"Are you OK?" Sarah asked. "If you don't mind me saying, you look a little rough around the edges. Are you sleeping?"

Rebecca shrugged. "A little, but not great. I feel a little… unfocused I guess is the best way to describe it. I hadn't realized how much Jimmy had sort of taken over things the past couple of months, you know? And now I'm just trying to figure out how to get back into the groove of my life." She looked abashed suddenly. "I'm sorry, I'm being rude, please come inside. Nancy is here."

"You weren't kidding, this place really is beautiful. I can't imagine growing up here," Sarah said, admiring the house.

"Thanks. I've lived here since I was five so it's all I've really known."

"I appreciate you agreeing to meet with me on such short notice," Sarah said.

"It's fine. It's not like I've got a full calendar at the moment."

They walked into a large sitting room and Sarah recognized Nancy who'd gotten her access to the former tobacco shop the previous week. She stood up as they approached and said, "Ms. Walker, good to see you again. Or is it Agent Walker? Rebecca told me a little bit about what happened, and I have to say we're all very grateful for your intervention. I wanted to assure you that I didn't realize what was going on when we spoke last week. I made some incorrect assumptions about Rebecca's motives for the property," Nancy explained apologetically.

Sarah nodded. "I understand. I made some incorrect assumptions myself. And call me Sarah, please."

"Certainly," Nancy replied. "Why don't we have a seat and go through the agreement I put together?"

They spent the next hour going through the documents and to finalize the deal, Sarah called the banker she had pre-arranged everything with. Nancy was able to provide him with all the details for each property and mortgage over the phone. In about forty-eight hours, each of Rebecca's properties would be a wholly-owned subsidiary of the management company LLC.

Once everything was confirmed, and the paperwork signed, Nancy handed over the master keys to each unit in the strip mall. As they were wrapping up Sarah asked, "Do you have any other commercial properties in the Burbank area that could support a thirty-person office for a couple of months?"

Nancy and Rebecca both shook their heads. "Our commercial properties are limited to retail outlets and the rest are apartment buildings. I can make some inquiries for you, if you like?" Nancy offered.

"I would really appreciate that, thank you. I'm a little under the gun to get some temporary space setup as quickly as possible, but I will only need it for eight weeks at the most."

"In Burbank." Nancy confirmed.

"Preferably, but anywhere between downtown and Burbank along the I-5 corridor would work."

"I'll make some calls and see what I can find. I'm sure there's a lot out there, given the state of things at the moment." Nancy said as she gathered her things and stood up. "I'll give you a call later today." She looked at Rebecca and said, "You give me a call if you need anything, OK? Anything at all."

Rebecca nodded and smiled at her. "Thanks Nancy, I will."

Sarah took her time gathering up her copies of all the paperwork. After Nancy had left she looked at Rebecca. "Nightmares?" She asked.

Rebecca looked a little surprised for a moment, then said, "Yeah, some. It's mostly just bad dreams about being trapped in some way." She rubbed her hands across her face and through her hair. "Honestly I'm just trying to figure out how I could have so monumentally stupid. I'm not the type of girl who typically goes ga-ga for a pretty face. I mean, this is LA for God's sake, there's a pretty large population of beautiful men out there that I meet all the time."

"From what you told me on Saturday, there was more to it than that."

Rebecca shrugged. "I guess."

"Rebecca don't try to get through this alone. Do you have friends you could call, talk to about this?"

"You'd think so, but not really. Not in LA anyway," she said. "My best friend from college moved to Europe earlier this year for a job. Over the past year I've grown apart from other friends I had, dealing with my Uncle's illness and then trying to figure out how to save the properties he left me."

"Did you think about what I said the other day? About talking to a therapist? It helps, trust me."

"Yeah, I have an appointment on Wednesday," she said.

"Good. Do you mind if I check in on you afterwards?" Sarah asked.

Rebecca gave her a grateful look. "I was hoping you would. After everything you've done, you're kind of my hero right now," she said with a shy smile.

Sarah chuckled. "I don't know about that. I have selfish motivations just like anyone, but I do want to make sure you're ok. I'd advise you to try to get out of the house every day. Go to the gym, go to the grocery store, go to a museum. Try to reconnect with some of those old friends. The more you stay at home, the more you'll want to stay home. Don't let yourself sit and stew."

"I'll do my best," she said simply.

Sarah supposed that was enough. She technically shouldn't be getting involved with Rebecca beyond these real estate transactions as it could be seen as a conflict of interest with the ongoing LAPD investigation. She didn't think she would have before she met Chuck. She would have hoped that Rebecca found her way back from the traumatic relationship but probably not taken steps to help or verify.

"That's all any of us can do, right?" Sarah asked hoping it didn't sound condescending. "I'll give you a call later this week to see how you're doing." They stood up and Rebecca walked her to the door.

"Thanks again for everything Sarah," Rebecca said. "I know you said you have selfish motivations, but I'm not sure I believe you completely on that. And even if it is true, you still saved my ass. Literally and financially with this refinance deal."

"You're welcome Rebecca," Sarah said. "I'll talk to you later this week."

Rebecca waved as she closed the door.

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When Sarah got home she pulled the bulky manila envelope out of her purse and dumped the contents onto the large kitchen island. She'd made a stop at a pre-arranged meeting spot and paid fifty thousand in cash for what was in it. She didn't feel the need to verify the contents first. She'd worked with this contact before and he knew better than to try and rip her off.

There were seven years of tax returns where Charles Carmichael had been working as a technology consultant in New York City. There was a birth certificate that looked very similar to Chuck's actual birth certificate but with different parents and a different last name. Same time of birth, same day, same location down to the hospital. Also a valid social security card, New York driver's license and several credit cards that were active and functional with a combined credit limit close to a hundred grand. Charles Carmichael had an excellent credit score.

The reason the legend cost so much is that it was all real. Every database that had the name Charles Carmichael with the associated social security number had a history to go with it. All the way back to middle school transcripts. The only thing that could create questions with the identity would be a top- security clearance check where friends, family, neighbors and anyone else someone might interact with on a daily basis are interviewed in person by an FBI agent. That wasn't a problem for Carmichael either because she'd seen to it that transcripts of these interviews were already recorded in the CIA and FBI databases. Charles Carmichael had top-secret clearance and was code-word cleared to work on her Task Force.

She smiled as she picked up his driver's license, loving her adorable nerd's amazing smile. The picture was one she'd taken last week when he got home from his first Buy More corporate meeting wearing a suit. Uhg, I'm so pathetic and I don't even care.

It was after four in the afternoon and she was a little surprised he hadn't called yet and wondered why it was taking this long to do a final rundown and get the contracts signed. Then she remembered that they were meeting with Big Mike to let him know what was happening. He'd probably be ecstatic to learn that the Nerd Herd was in no way his responsibility in the future.

She sighed and started working on additional task lists to keep track of all the items that were starting to build up on her various projects. She hoped Chuck was able to get their systems up and running soon because things were going to start slipping between the cracks if she didn't have a secure, reliable way of managing her tasks. She only trusted her laptop so far, being CIA issue.

By the time he called, it was after five and he sounded a little frustrated. "Hey Chuck. Did you just now finish your meeting?" she asked.

"Yeah," he sighed heavily. "Big Mike just couldn't seem to wrap his brain around what was going on. We just kept going around in circles. I really wanted to get back to the Buy More so I could make more progress today."

"How much more time do you think you'd need to get where you wanted to be?" Sarah asked.

"A while. At least five hours," he answered.

"Why don't you just go ahead and head back up there and work late tonight? I've got a ton of items to work on for the next couple of hours but then I could bring you up some take out and we could have a late dinner there. You could show me all the fancy computer stuff you had me buy."

"That sounds pretty great actually," he sighed.

"Good," she said with a smile she couldn't contain. "Any special requests for take-out?"

"Yeah, how about sizzling shrimp from the Bamboo Dragon?"

"You got it. Get some work done and I'll see you at about seven."

"When you get there, park around back and come in through the delivery entrance. That's where I'll be working."

"Okay, see you in a few hours," She said

"Thanks Sarah," he said. "Oh, yeah, there's one other thing."

"What's that?"

"I love you," he said. She could practically hear the grin on his face.

She snorted. "I love you too, nerd."

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Sarah pulled into the back lot of the Burbank Buy More and parked nose out in the receiving bay. She grabbed the food and headed inside the delivery entrance. She held the door so that it closed softly, stepping quietly into the back storage and work areas. She could hear music playing, and after a few moments she heard someone talking softly to themselves and recognized Chuck's voice. She peeked around a stack of boxes and saw him inside a large storage cage working on assembling what looked like either one massive computer or a bunch of smaller ones in a series of seven foot tall racks. She couldn't hear exactly what he was saying but it sounded like he was just confirming to himself that things were assembled correctly inside the guts of one of the computers in the rack. His back was too her so she couldn't resist having a little fun as she gently set the bag of food on a chair and crept slowly towards him.

She was standing less than a foot away when she leaned in to him and whispered, "Hi Chuck."

He let out an impressively high pitched "EEEP!" and jumped straight up. He turned around slowly to glare at her as she bent double with laughter.

"You should really call 911 now because I've had a heart attack and a stroke all at once and will be passing out soon," he said, unable to hide his smile.

Sarah managed to catch her breath enough to say, "You EEEP'd!" And then had to fight to breathe again as the laughter returned.

"You damn right I EEEP'd! I think I poo'd a little too!" He exclaimed, starting to giggle along with her gales of laughter. "What did I do to deserve that?"

She fought herself back under control as she wiped the tears off her cheeks. "You remember on our drive up to Carmel, we had stopped for a late lunch and as we were leaving you said, 'Keep your panties on, oh wait you can't' and rendered me momentarily speechless?"

"I do remember that," he replied with dawning realization of what she'd finally said. "You said you didn't know how or when but that you'd eventually get me back!"

Sarah gave him a dainty curtsy and spread her arm towards him as if to say, there you go. "We really need to work on your situational awareness, Chuck," she said with a grin, still fighting down giggles.

He looked at her with a mixture of awe, fear and amusement. "That is some epic level grudge-holding you got going on there, Agent Walker!" he said ardently. "I'm seriously impressed!"

Sarah stepped up to him and put her arms around his shoulders, feeling his encircle her waist. "I simply made you a promise, Chuck," she whispered as she leaned up. "I always keep my promises."

She was on the verge of seriously losing herself in the kiss and had to repress the urge to reach for one of her throwing knives when someone cleared their throat nearby. She felt Chuck smile into their kiss and sighed as she tucked her head into the crook of his neck.

"Hey, Chuck," she heard a bored sounding voice intone. "Just wanted to let you know that I'm heading out for the night. Have fun having sex back here but don't forget about the security cameras. Lester would definitely try to sell that online."

Chuck laughed. "Thanks for that Skip, I'll keep it in mind. Do me a favor and lock the door to the warehouse on your way out and let the guys know I'm working late back here and don't want to be bothered. Have them lock the main doors at 10 and I'll close up everything else when I leave," Chuck said.

"Sure thing, Chuck," he replied. He glanced at Sarah again then said, "See you tomorrow."

"Thanks, Skip," Chuck replied.

After Skip had left, Sarah couldn't help but giggle as she stepped back from embracing Chuck. "Why does he always sound like he's reciting a technical manual when he talks?"

"It's just Skip," Chuck said. "I think he'd sound the same if he were in a gunfight talking about being low on ammo. I don't even really notice any more. Sometimes I like being around him because the others are just so…" he threw his arms around maniacally for a moment. "He does get a little more animated with audio/video stuff. He's a bit of a genius with that. And behind me, he's by far the most productive Nerd Herder." He walked over and made sure the door from the warehouse to the showroom was locked.

"I suppose it's just as well he interrupted us because our food is getting cold and reheated shrimp is rubbery," Sarah said as she started pulling boxes of food out of the bag. "Do you want to eat in here or in your break room?"

"In here," Chuck replied. "If we eat in the break room, we'll be pestered by… everyone."

Sarah sighed and asked, "Can you explain to me how you having a girlfriend is such a hard concept for your coworkers to grasp?"

Chuck laughed as he cleared tools off the desk to make room for the food. "Sweetie, I'll do my best to explain it, but to be honest, I can totally relate to what my coworkers are going through." He pulled some paper plates out of a package of them that was in one of the desk drawers as Sarah pulled cans of soda out of the bottom of the bag.

"Ok, let me hear it," Sarah said as she started distributing food onto the plates.

Chuck looked thoughtful as he opened a package of chopsticks and pried them apart. "It's all about perspective," he said. "The only people who've worked here longer than me are Jeff and Big Mike."

"Ok," Sarah said as she pulled her chopsticks apart and popped a shrimp in her mouth.

"Everyone here sees me in a certain light. They've created a 'this is Chuck' sort of box and this box is very closely related to all the 'people boxes' they have for other people who work here and the box they have themselves in too." Chuck said, not offering any further explanation as he started eating.

She gave him a questioning look. "Ok, and?"

Chuck laughed again, covering his mouth. "Sarah, you've blown up the Chuck box. You do not fit the image they had of me. This gets back to me telling you how far out of my league I thought you were. They think so too. You've destroyed their perception of me, and I think it makes them question their perception of everyone else and even themselves to a certain extent."

Sarah frowned a little. "That does help me understand it better, I suppose. But I think it has more to do with you than with me." She popped the top on her soda and took a swig, then burped unintentionally as Chuck burst out laughing.

"The burpy and farty part of our relationship has commenced!" Chuck exclaimed, his eyes bright with amusement.

Sarah couldn't help but laugh with him. "I have a confession," She said. "I get up and go to the bathroom when I have to fart! Holding it in is so uncomfortable!"

Chuck just smiled and nodded. "I know, I've been doing the same thing. And you should really thank me for that because some of them… Wow. Why do you think I always leave the bathroom fan on?"

"I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Chuck," She said, still laughing. "Are we being silly with that?"

"Yes, totally but we'll eventually grow out of it. One of these days we'll be comfy on the couch and one of us will be too lazy to get up and leave, or in just the right kind of playful mood, and we'll just let it rip."

He suddenly burst out laughing again. "I remember one time I was sitting in the living room watching TV with Ellie and Awesome, who were on the couch. Ellie was lying down with her feet in Awesome's lap with a blanket over her. Out of nowhere, she suddenly threw the blanket over Awesome's head and then let one fly. It sounded like someone tearing a hole in space-time. She cut the most amazing fart ever and then trapped Awesome under the blanket with it. It was like he was having a seizure under there."

Sarah had to cover her mouth as she coughed a mouthful of shrimp and fried rice back into her plate and nearly fell over with laughter. She could perfectly visualize the scene as if she'd been sitting there with them when it happened, and it made her sides ache as tears streamed down her face for the second time in the last hour.

They finished their meal between fits of the giggles and as they were cleaning up Chuck said, "So I told you that you blew up everyone's perception of me and you said you think it's more about me than you."

Sarah nodded. "Yeah, I do. Based on my observations, outside of work, you don't really have any kind of real relationship with your co-workers other than Morgan, is that accurate?"

He nodded. "Yeah, that's true."

"So, their perceptions of you are based on incomplete information. For all these years they've been seeing this very narrow and limited version of you. The 'Chuck box' that they've built their preconceptions around is this nice guy, this good guy, something of a pushover, good at his job, but still just another Buy More drone. And for whatever reason, he doesn't have a girlfriend and isn't likely to because he never goes out on dates. They like you and they respect you, but you're more like them than not."

Chuck nodded. "That's probably pretty accurate."

She gave him a serious look. "Chuck, that guy I just described? I am out of that guy's league. If that's all you were, I would have said thanks when you fixed my phone and left. But you're so not that guy and I knew it almost immediately. I certainly knew it after you helped that little ballerina."

Chuck smiled at her. "I will always have a special place in my heart for her dad and his ineptitude with technology."

"Me too," Sarah said smiling with him.

"But I guess I was thinking about the Chuck perception box as a more physical beauty thing," he said.

"Chuck, that perception was all your creation as well. You created it for them by never actually dating anyone for years on end. How many of your co-workers had ever actually met Jill?"

"Besides Morgan, none, why?" Chuck asked.

"I've seen pictures of her, Chuck. Jill was a very beautiful woman. If your coworkers had seen you with a beautiful woman at the beginning, then it would have set a different perception of you at the outset. But you never dating anyone created its own perception."

"So, you're saying the Chuck perception box was blown up more by just dating and getting a girlfriend at all, not so much about how beautiful you are?"

Sarah nodded and grinned. "You Stanford boys may catch on slow, but you do eventually catch on. I'm sure my physical appearance is part of it, but not all of it." He smiled and looked at her with something approaching that reverential look that lit a fire in her, but this look had something else in it too.

"What?" she asked.

"Just… you," he said, shaking his head.

"What?" she asked again.

"I had this whole idea in my head about why everyone was so blown away about me being with you and you just turned it all upside down and you're completely right," his voice took on a quiet intensity. "And right at this moment I can feel that I'm just that much more in love with you. Like I can feel my heart filling up with just a little bit more Sarah. You're so amazing and I want to know what I did to deserve you, so I make sure to keep doing it."

Sarah's mouth dropped open and she felt tears in the corners of her eyes. She stepped up and hugged him. "Chuck…" She didn't know how to respond to one of the most beautiful things she ever heard. "I love you, too." She said simply.

As they were standing there lost in their embrace, Chuck's phone started making a shrill electronic screeching noise. As Sarah stepped back to ask what it was about, she noticed that Chuck was suddenly very pale.

"Oh, shit!" he exclaimed, as the color drained from his face.

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A/N: I suppose it is sort of a cliffy. Gotta keep y'all coming back for more.

Thanks to WillieGarvin for his pre-reading efforts. As always, feedback is appreciated. Hopefully I'm not just shouting into the void.

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