7:00 A.M., Pacific Daylight Time
Monday, July 13th, 2009
Neptune, California
Boing.
Sarah Walker was slowly dragged from sleep. She kept her eyes squeezed tight shut. “Not yet,” she grumbled.
She had been dreaming about Chuck. He had been there with her – wherever they had been in the dream. But she knew when she opened her eyes, he would be gone.
Boing.
Sarah cracked an eye open. Sunlight was pouring into the room… where was she?
Boing.
She looked down. She was covered by a blanket, lying on a couch. She was still wearing the same clothes she had been wearing the day before.
Boing.
That’s right. She was at Logan Echolls’ house. She had fallen asleep the night before, while Logan, Casey, and Keith Mars talked in hushed tones about the retrieval operation. She hadn’t participated in the planning herself, her justification being that she had sworn to Director Graham that she’d be on her best behavior.
Boing.
What the hell was that noise?
Casting off the blanket, Sarah stood up and padded barefoot toward the noise. It seemed to be coming from the general direction of the kitchen.
As she passed into the kitchen the noise got louder. Stepping through the open back door, she saw a halfcourt, a regulation height basketball goal at the end. Casey, Logan, and Sheriff Mars appeared to be playing 21 or something similar.
Sarah stood on the edge of the halfcourt, a small smile appearing on her face. Casey pulled down a rebound, saw her standing there, and yelled, “Hey Walker! Think fast!”
The ball came flying toward her at a high rate of speed. However, Sarah, in her prior life, had been a pretty good basketball player, and snatched the ball out of midair with a minimum of effort. She cocked an eyebrow, pushed off lightly, and with a flick of her wrist, released a beautiful rainbow-arc three-point range shot.
A second later, the leather sphere fell through the hoop, making a slight swish noise as it passed through the nylon cords of the net. “Wow,” Casey said. “I never knew you had it in you, Walker.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Casey,” Sarah replied with a half smile on her face. “How long have you boys been up?”
“We never went to sleep, Agent Walker,” Keith Mars replied. “We’ve been up all night.”
“And we could have used your help,” Casey admonished her.
“Hey, Casey, your agency is lacking a director to report to right now,” Sarah replied. “Director Graham would tear a strip off of me if he thought I was helping to plan an invasion of Canada.”
Logan held up a hand. “Whoa, there. It’s not an invasion, per se.”
Sarah cocked an eyebrow. “It’s a bunch of armed people going into a Canadian military base with hostile intent. How is that not an invasion?”
“Legally,” Logan replied, wrinkling his nose. “They’re all civilians.”
“Gotcha,” Sarah said sarcastically. “So, what’s your grand plan?”
“Glad you asked,” Casey replied. “Come on inside.”
Sarah followed the men inside, back to the living room. Casey turned on the sixty-inch plasma TV that dominated one wall of Logan’s living room.
A PowerPoint presentation appeared on the TV screen. “Okay,” Casey began. “So, here’s the best picture we could find of Lac la Plonde Auxiliary Air Field.” He hit the space bar on his laptop.
A satellite image appeared on the screen. “So, from what we can tell,” Casey continued, “this is obviously a runway.” He pointed to the long grey strip that dominated the north end of the picture. “It’s about two miles long. Next to that, we have what appear to be residential units. There are twenty-five of those. Behind the residential units are facilities for command, munitions, barracks, logistics, medical, and so on.
“This is a tiny base,” he said. “We figure that all told, there are probably no more than 75 personnel on the base. Since it’s an Air Force base, their training probably isn’t all that great – and I should know, since I’m US Air Force Reserve.”
He hit the spacebar again. “As you can see here, there are thirty-two deputies employed by the Balboa County Sheriff’s Department. Of those thirty-two, ten have SWAT training, and fourteen are in either the National Guard or the Reserves. Sheriff Mars has also spoken with a friend of his, Commander Rick Pope of the Los Angeles Police Department’s Anti-Gang Task Force, and he has indicated his willingness to commit his twenty man special operations unit.”
Sarah shook her head. “Wait a second,” she said in disbelief. “You want to invade a Canadian Air Force Base with a bunch of cops?”
“Agent Walker,” Keith Mars interjected, “my deputies are among the best trained in the country. They have to be – Balboa County is one volatile place. The LAPD Anti-Gang Task Force – everybody on it has SWAT training. My cars are armored and have bulletproof glass, my men are trained in using assault weapons. They can take a bunch of flyboys no problem.”
“Your cars?” Sarah asked. “Are you telling me that you plan to drive a bunch of old Ford Crown Victorias all the way to northern Saskatchewan?”
“Actually, no,” Logan said. Casey hit the spacebar again, and a shot of three white-painted C-141B Starlifter aircraft appeared on the screen. “I own a company called Globemaster Airlines. It’s a cargo and charter airline that owns an old McDonnell Douglas DC-10 and three retired Lockheed C-141 Starlifters – the ones on the screen. My friend Wallace Fennel is the CEO.”
“And that’s how we get the police and their equipment to Canada,” Casey resumed. “We load them onboard one of the Starlifters, fly everything to the air base. We land on the runway, open up the cargo door in the back, drive the cars straight out, and invade.”
Sarah was quiet for a moment, staring at the screen. “That’s an audacious plan,” she finally said. “Pretty well thought out, too. But how do we avoid, oh, say, the Canadian Air Force?”
Casey smiled and tapped a finger against his temple. Pulling out his phone, he dialed a number and placed it on speakerphone. Sarah heard it ring, and then a moment later, there was a yawn, and an answer.
“Good morning, you’ve reached Anna Wu, Nerd Herder on call. How may I assist you?”
“Anna, John Casey. Sorry to call you so early.”
“John? What’s going on?”
“Listen. You were born in the United States, right?”
“Yeah…”
“How loyal are you to your home country?”
“Uh, I know the Pledge of Allegiance…”
“Good enough. Listen, if you were to get paid, oh, say, a hundred thousand dollars, how would you feel about doing a little hacking and planting some false but harmless information?”
Anna was silent for a moment. “What would I be hacking?”
“The databases of the Federal Aviation Administration and its Canadian counterpart. You’d be filing some false flight plans.”
“Well, that’d be easy enough,” Anna mused. “Federal databases have the WORST security. But why would I be filing false flight plans?”
“Um…” Casey thought for a moment, then apparently decided to go with the truth, or at least the partial truth. “Chuck’s been kidnapped by some Canadians, and the government’s not doing much to get him back, so we’re going to go after him.”
“Chuck’s been kidnapped?” Anna gasped. “Oh my God… does Morgan know?”
“No, and it would be best if it remained that way,” Casey replied. “The question is, will you help us?”
“For Chuck?” Anna replied. “Of course I will!”
“Okay,” Casey said. “What kind of encryption to you have on your e-mail?”
“15,360 bit RSA key.”
Casey’s eyes widened. “Jesus,” he muttered. “Paranoid much?”
“You can never be too careful, Johnny.”
He rolled his eyes. He hated being called Johnny. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll e-mail you what we need, and I’ll get you the details on the payment… um, shit, I’m scheduled this afternoon, aren’t I?”
“Yes, you are. I’ll see you then?”
“Yeah. I’ll have details for you.”
Casey hung up, and turned to Sarah. “So?”
“You’ve got this pretty well planned, I’ll admit,” she said. “But what happens if Canada decides to declare war on the US in retaliation?”
Casey shrugged. “That’s the diplomats’ problem, not mine.”
8:30 A.M., Central Standard Time
Lac la Plonde Auxiliary Air Field, Saskatchewan, Canada
Chuck was having a weird, weird dream. Everything in the dream looked like it had been rotoscoped – cartoonized, as it were, just like in A Scanner Darkly.
He and Veronica were standing in the middle of a stage in a theatre. The theatre appeared to be empty, but then a spotlight snapped on. It didn’t shine on Chuck, though – it was something behind him.
He turned around, and there were Sarah, Casey, and Bryce – Sarah with her hands over her eyes, Casey with his hands over his mouth, Bryce with his hands over his ears. The voice of Director Graham rang through the theatre – “PRESENTING THE PINNACLE OF THE AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE SERVICES – SEE NO EVIL, SPEAK NO EVIL, HEAR NO EVIL!”
Chuck approached the three agents. “Please, guys, help us,” he begged them. “They have us trapped up here – they’re using us in a horrible way!”
Casey shook his head. He couldn’t speak. Bryce gave him a confused look – he couldn’t hear.
But Sarah spoke. “I’m sorry, Chuck,” she said quietly. “I can’t see you to help you.”
Frustrated, Chuck headed toward stage left – to find his way blocked by Mal Reynolds and Kaylee Frye. “You guys! You can help us!”
Mal shook his head – except it wasn’t really Mal, it was Nathan Fillion. “We can’t,” he said.
And it wasn’t Kaylee, either. It was Jewel Staite. “We’re Canadians,” she said. “Why would we go against our own people?”
“Because they’re doing terrible things!” Chuck exclaimed.
But as he watched, Nathan Fillion and Jewel Staite faded from view. He turned back to Veronica – she was now lying on the stage, her eyes closed, her arms folded across her chest. He looked to stage right –
Admiral Adama stood there. “Admiral Adama!” Chuck shouted. “Can you help us?!”
He just stared back at Chuck. “How do I know you’re not a Cylon?”
“What?!” shouted Chuck. “I’m not a Cylon!”
“He can’t hear you anymore, Chuck,” came a slightly Scottish sounding voice, as Adama faded from view. Chuck turned to his right – and the Doctor exited his TARDIS, a Dalek in tow. “You can’t escape, Chuck. This is your destiny.”
“No!” Chuck shouted. “This CAN’T be my destiny! I refuse to let it be my destiny!”
“Very well,” the Doctor said quietly. “Major Casey?”
Chuck whirled around, as Casey stepped forward. He removed his hands from his mouth – except he had no mouth. It was just blank flesh.
He reached down and lifted Veronica under her arms, pulling her up to a standing position. Her eyes remained closed.
“This is the consequence for your refusal to allow your destiny to run its course, Chuck,” the Doctor said, a cruel smile appearing on his face.
The Dalek turned its laser arm toward Veronica. “EX-TER-MI-NATE!”
“NO!” Chuck shouted, leaping in front of Veronica –
And his eyes popped open. He looked around wildly –
But Veronica was right there, her head resting on his shoulder. It was pretty clear that Chuck hadn’t actually said anything out loud, because she was still fast asleep.
He closed his eyes and replayed the events of the night before in his head. After their… required activities – he refused to think of it as love-making – he had gone directly to the shower, and when he got out, dressed in the pajamas he had discovered in the closet. When he came back out of the bathroom, he got into the bed. He fell asleep before Veronica finished in the shower.
At around two in the morning, quiet noises had awakened Chuck. It turned out to be Veronica, whimpering and softly saying, “Please, no,” in her sleep. Chuck had no idea what it was about, but had this horrible sinking feeling that it had something to do with him.
However, when he had reached over and touched her shoulder, her eyes fluttered open, she smiled up at him, and then rolled over toward him. Despite the fact that he would have preferred to sleep with as much of the bed between them as possible, he put his arms around her and held her as she fell back to sleep. He would rather she sleep peacefully – he’d deal with his guilty conscience another time.
But now, as he came to wakefulness again, he was still holding her in his arms. He felt a mixture of guilt and happiness – happiness because he had really not spent that much time with Veronica since he broke up with her at the beginning of May, and guilt because of how much this was going to hurt Sarah.
Chuck sighed. God, how he wished he could wake up from this nightmare.
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