THE DESERT JEWEL, SUITE 1802
10:13 AST
"This'll just be like The Italian Job," Carina said with a grin, "only you are so much hotter than Michael Caine."
Sarah merely looked up from the blueprints with a blank expression.
"Oh for the love of—doesn't Bryce teach you anything?"
"I'm sorry, Bryce and I do this thing where we actually work for a living. Doesn't leave a lot of time for movies."
Carina rolled her eyes and shifted her focus back to the table. "You know, there are these remarkable inventions called portable DVD players. You can take them anywhere. Even planes!"
Carina paused, interest already changing, and then tapped the edge of the table. "Damn, this is going to be a bitch."
Sarah shrugged. She had a killer hangover and talking wasn't something that interested her all that much at the moment.
Besides, Carina had always been more than willing to do enough talking for the both of them. "It'd help if we had a third set of hands." She leaned forward and peered closer at the bank's vault. "Are you sure Bryce can't join us?"
"Yes."
Carina sighed. "When this is over, remind me to teach you how to keep a man happy and properly compliant."
"I'm sorry, when did this become the Fifties again? The mission, Carina."
"Touchy, touchy."
No, just hungover and still battling nausea. Why had she thought single-handedly killing a bottle of scotch between them was ever a good idea? Carina was one of those inhuman people that never suffered from hangovers, which was probably why she had gone to work for the DEA. Maybe it was time to return the favor. Feeling deliciously evil, Sarah eyed her friend sideways. "It's just you and me. Don't tell me you think you're not up to it?"
Carina's head whipped up, her stormy gray eyes filled with anger. Sarah would have smirked at the reaction if she weren't fighting pounding pain in her skull and nausea in her stomach; she might have felt pleased. Carina wasn't the only one who could play the game, and her friend had always been easy to rile up.
"I never said that!"
"Are you sure? Because from what I'm hearing, it sounds like you'd rather not do the mission at all."
Carina scowled and then said, "I know what you're doing."
"And?"
"You're just lucky I have no self-control."
"Finally caught on, huh?"
Carina mockingly mouthed her words back at her before turning back to the table. "Oh, go take a Tylenol."
She'd downed half the bottle. "You take a Tylenol," she said, somewhat childishly.
Carina smirked. "You do have a plan, right?"
"Do I have a plan? It's your op!"
"Sarah dear, do I strike you as the kind of woman who plans things?"
Sarah sighed and should have known it would come to this. "I have some ideas."
Sarah had to hand it to her friend. People could say what they liked about Carina Miller's tactics, her unpredictability, her unorthodox methods, her views on life, the universe, everything, but Carina excelled at one thing: she could find a flaw in any plan with her eyes closed. Sarah figured it had everything to do with the fact that Carina usually delighted in exploiting said flaws, which meant that she was like a bloodhound in discovering them. And it also meant that Sarah, while Carina dismissed almost every one of her plans, had to be on top of her game as well, to make sure Carina wasn't simply spotting flaws and forgetting to mention them so that she could cause chaos later. Being around Carina for any extended period of time was exhausting for that reason alone.
Oh, and the constantly turning down propositions, but that went without saying when it was Carina Miller.
"Okay," Carina said two hours later, while Sarah nursed a Diet Coke and a migraine. "I think we've got it." She pursed her lips again and whistled. "Going to need some serious tech on this one."
"Yeah, I noticed."
"Freelance?"
"Can we afford it? Your agency's the one footing the bill."
Carina's wince was almost hidden.
"Guess not," Sarah said, and put the cold Diet Coke glass against her forehead. "Any of the geeks in your department up for this sort of thing?"
"You're kidding me, right? I had to show one of them how to turn on his cell phone last week."
Sarah lowered the glass and stared at Carina. "What were you even doing talking to a geek?"
Carina shrugged. "They're fun when they blush? How about you? Any whiz kids in the C-I-Ass?"
"As opposed to the D-E-Ass?" Sarah shook her head. "Digital Dave's too busy to tackle even the prep work for a project like this. And he's got too many teams as it is." A name whispered at the back of her mind and she set the glass down before she dropped it. "But I may know somebody."
"Well, that's certainly cryptic," Carina said.
"Shut up. I'll have to clear it through channels first, though." Sarah rolled her eyes inwardly, remembering the heat that she and Bryce had faced for even daring to drop in on Chuck for forty-eight hours. There was no way she was going up against whatever fiery line they'd drawn around Chuck Bartowski without proper authority again. She didn't think her career could handle it, not with things already in the toilet over this Bryce-Pissiness-Fiasco.
"Well, youngster, time's a' wastin'," Carina drawled in a poor imitation of a southern accent.
Sarah wrinkled her nose at her friend. "I think I'll make the calls from the bedroom. And no, I don't want company."
She picked up her glass, the lifesaving bottle of pain medication, and strolled out, adding an extra sway to her hips just to make Carina laugh.
14 APRIL 2006
THE DESERT JEWEL, SUITE 1802, ROOM B
17:26 AST
She could not believe that she was going to do this. It was stupid. Scratch that. Stupid didn't really do what she was about to do justice. Insane was probably a more apt description. It was also terrifying.
She stared at the black matte satellite phone for a good ten minutes before she could even pick it up. She started to run through scenarios in her head, most of them concerning what she was going to say. She analyzed and then evaluated them as quickly as they formed. Every single one was dismissed as not being good enough. She wasn't surprised; she had learned early on that Chuck could often make her feel more like a nervous school girl than a professional agent. It was damn annoying.
Should she be serious and aloof? She might need the distance that would provide. She thought back to how Chuck had acted the last time they spoke. He had been worried, anxious, but still entirely professional, giving her what she needed even before she realized she needed it. He had remarkable tactical sense for somebody who had never actually been in the field; an ability to analyze a situation instantly, sometimes even when given scant information, and act on his own initiative. He could disable cameras and alarms, hack databases and security systems, upload viruses, download data, things she never even thought of or could ever hope to do on her own. Not once, since she and Bryce had started using him for technical support, had he ever steered them wrong. She had been amazed more than once and she was damn curious as to how he did it.
She was at a loss as to why Bryce had waited as long as he did before introducing them. Chuck had saved their asses more than once since he became their on-call tech support. He could have made the first year of their partnership so much easier.
She was getting distracted. She needed to focus. She had to play this right. Chuck would probably already be on guard that it wasn't Bryce calling. She'd never actually approached Chuck before, it was always Bryce who set things up for their missions and it was always Bryce who did the talking. Would Chuck even remember her?
She was being ridiculous. Of course Chuck would remember her. He had remembered her at Christmas and he had remembered her in February. There was no reason for her to even think that he might have forgotten her. So why did the idea that he had fill her full of dread?
Focus, Walker. Think! Get in and get out. Stick to the plan. Don't let him get to you. That was the problem. Trying to plan for a conversation with Chuck was next to impossible. Mainly because, when she talked to him, she tended to lose her focus. He was dangerous like that.
It was now or never. She dialed the number.
He picked up after the third ring. "Jackson Georges here," he said, voice slightly tinny and distant.
"Uh, hi, Chuck." She wanted to smack herself. Wow, what a brilliant opening.
The pause seemed to last forever. "Sarah?"
"Guilty as charged."
"This is a surprise. Is everything okay?"
She swallowed slightly. Everything was not fine, she didn't know what was happening between her and Bryce, she really needed somebody to talk to. Of course, all she said was, "Everything's fine." Her voice never wavered.
"Okay." She thought she detected a hint of doubt in his response but quickly pushed that thought away. "I assume that time is critical? Just let me get to my desk and I'll do what I can."
She could hear rustling and Chuck's breathing and then the sound of somebody sitting in a chair. "Where's Bryce? Is he okay?"
"Bryce is fine, Chuck. He's doing reconnaissance right now and wanted me to handle the mission prep." She didn't really like lying to Chuck, but she didn't want him to know about her and Bryce either. She couldn't stop the feeling that Chuck wouldn't help her if Bryce wasn't there.
"Oh. So this isn't like last time?" He sounded like he had relaxed now that he knew it wasn't an emergency. "Cool."
"Is that a problem?" She didn't realize she was holding her breath until he replied.
"Of course not. Why would it be?" She heard tapping on a keyboard. "So what can I do for you today? Need me to Cylon some mainframe? Goldblum a security system? Provide plucky comic relief?"
"I…don't know what any of that means." She assumed it was yet another string of pop culture references. "But I've got a job for you. Think you're up for it?"
Chuck laughed and the sound thrilled her, which only made her annoyed at herself. "Please," he said with a cocky drawl that inspired warmth to suffuse her, "it's me."
And that, Sarah thought, was half the problem.
14 APRIL 2006
THE DESERT JEWEL, SUITE 1802, ROOM B
19:01 AST
"Dinner time!" Carina sang through Sarah's door.
The blonde didn't lift her head up from her arms. She hadn't been crying, which it might have seemed like to an outsider looking in. She was simply exhausted, and had rested her forehead on her arms on her desk instead of crawling all four feet to the bed behind her. "Wonderful," she said, positive that Carina could hear her. The agent had perfect hearing. "I'll be out in a few minutes."
There was a pause, and Sarah closed her eyes and muttered under her breath. "Don't come in here, don't come in here, don't—"
Carina pushed the door open as smoothly as if it had never been locked in the first place and plopped onto the bed. "What's up with you?" she asked.
"Nothing." Sarah forced herself to sit up and smile. "What's for dinner?"
"What else? Surf and turf. Steak diane, lobster, that mozzarella salad you love so much." Carina shrugged.
"I love that you're so frugal with taxpayers' dollars, Carina."
Carina's shrug said it all: I don't give a damn.
"Okay, then," Sarah said, pushing herself away from the desk and the satellite phone still in the corner. "Surf and turf it is." She gestured that Carina should precede her from the room, as she knew the redhead might make a leap for the satellite phone if left alone. Not that Sarah blamed her. She would have done exactly the same in any similar situation.
Indeed, Carina pouted a little, but tilted her head in acknowledgment of a game well played before she swept from the room. The room service waiter had set up their dinner in the room's sizeable dining area, two domed platters of silver that made Sarah think of the movies. She would have preferred to just grab a bite of whatever was handy—hamburger, pizza, something that would undoubtedly add an extra mile to her run in the hotel's sizeable gym just like tonight's dinner—over the plans for the bank, but this was Carina's op, which meant they had to cater to her sense of theatricality. She took her seat opposite Carina and pulled the dome away.
"Where did you disappear to this afternoon?" she asked as she spread her napkin in her lap. "I heard you leave."
"Surveillance." Carina cut into her steak and gave Sarah a slightly feral grin. "And the concierge was making bedroom eyes at me. I had to see if his bedroom matched his eyes."
Sarah grinned and sipped her wine. "And did it?"
"A lady never kisses and tells." Carina's pause was just long enough. "Good thing there are none of those present. It, sadly, did not, but his brother looked quite promising. Maybe for tomorrow?"
Sarah had to laugh.
"Loaded up the photos I took of the bank—I used my spy skills, don't give me that look, nobody caught me—onto the laptop, so you can look them over tonight after you tell me who the guy is."
Sarah's hand, in the process of setting the wine back on the table cloth, faltered. It was a split-second movement, but it was an eternity too long for subtlety. Still, Sarah sent a bored look Carina's way. "What guy?"
Carina hooted with laughter. "I knew it! I knew that was why you were being cryptic."
"Because I don't want to reveal my tech source?" Sarah asked.
"Because you want to bone your tech source! Who is he? Seriously, this is great." Carina grinned again when Sarah's mouth dropped open. "I knew there was more to this Bryce thing."
"Excuse me," Sarah said after she had levered her jaw shut, "my life does not revolve around my sex life!"
"Pity, that," Carina remarked, cutting another bite of steak. She took her time chewing. "Steak's getting cold."
Sarah set her knife and fork down.
"I don't want to 'bone' my tech source, as you so nicely put it. God, do you have to be so crude all the time?"
"And now you're getting pissy," Carina observed. "Sounds like it might be more than a case of needing to get between the sheets and relieve some tension, Sarah." She paused to consider what she had said, then brightened. "I can help with that last part!"
Sarah glared at her. "I'm going to finish this in my room."
"Your loss." Carina shrugged and forked up a bite of lobster, dipping it in the reduced butter sauce with the ease of long practice, while Sarah packed up her dinnerware. "You must really like this guy."
"I'm not talking about this with you," Sarah said pointedly.
"Getting defensive, making the huffy face, yup. You've got it bad."
Sarah shot her the finger as she left, but Carina's raucous laugh that followed her made her at least smile to herself.
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