2:35 P.M., Pacific Daylight Time
Saturday, July 21st, 2012
Studio City, California
A Saturday afternoon in July. A high of 82 in the Valley. A group of good friends.
No better excuse for an afternoon barbecue.
The Bartowskis had decided to host it in their rather spacious backyard. Chuck had set up one of the televisions outside so that they could all watch the Dodgers and the Red Sox in interleague play down at Dodger Stadium. The Dodgers were pounding the Red Sox, much to the delight of everybody but Sarah, who was rather pissed at how poorly her Red Sox were playing that season.
But right at the moment, Sarah had peeled herself away from the debacle in Chavez Ravine to put Lisa and John down for their afternoon naps. When John had started tugging at his ear ten minutes before – his way of communicating that he was ready for a nap – and Lisa had gotten cranky, Sarah knew that it was time.
Sometimes she wished she could be a toddler. Toddlers had it so much easier. They could take naps and forget about the world.
Not so adults. Especially adults in her profession. Especially adults who had co-workers who were total sluts.
Sarah’s eyes narrowed as she remembered what had happened eight and a half days prior.
Chuck had just returned home from his surveillance mission in Redlands with Carina. Sarah had been curious about the damage to the Dodge, and Chuck had explained what had occurred – how the Slayers had accidentally been alerted to their presence, and then pursued them through downtown Redlands, and then Chuck took their two vehicles out.
However, the story had seemed somewhat patchy. Sarah had decided to just leave it alone, and write the patchiness off to stress and fatigue – for the moment.
Of course, that had lasted about ten minutes, right up until Chuck had started getting undressed, and Sarah had noticed that there was lipstick on him where there MOST DEFINITELY SHOULD NOT HAVE BEEN LIPSTICK.
Needless to say, she had just about gone off the deep end. The screaming rant she went on for two minutes had woken the kids and actually caused one of their neighbors to call the police. It would’ve gone on for longer had Chuck not interrupted and told her everything that had happened.
Learning the truth had lessened Sarah’s anger toward Chuck somewhat. She still had a white hot rage that burned against Carina, but she didn’t fault Chuck for what had occurred. She was majorly pissed, however, that he hadn’t just told her about it in the first place, and she was even more pissed that he had been planning to withhold it from her.
The next day, Friday the 13th, every time she had seen Carina, she’d greeted her by calling her not by her name, but by “Slut”. “Hi, Slut,” Sarah had said. “You got those surveillance tapes for me yet, Slut?”
Of course, that hadn’t gone over very well with Carina. She and Sarah had ended up practically having a knock-down, drag-out brawl in Sarah’s office, which Ellie had ended up having to break up, because for some reason, Casey, Bryce, Chuck, Morgan, and Devin all seemed to be somewhat reluctant to break up the fight. In fact, it had seemed as though they were content to just stand around and watch.
Sarah and Carina had hardly spoken for the next week, but Chuck, being Chuck, had decided that if they were inviting the rest of the company to the barbecue, it wouldn’t be fair to tell Carina she wasn’t welcome. Sarah had reluctantly agreed to let Carina come, after getting Chuck to agree that Sarah didn’t have to be polite to or social with Carina.
Sarah sighed heavily. It hadn’t always been like that between her and Carina. There had been a time when she and Casey had, by themselves, gone into a terrorist training camp in Pakistan to rescue Carina. Sarah wasn’t sure if she’d be willing to do that for her old mentor now.
She leaned against the changing table and sighed again. The receiving blanket had long since been replaced, but she could still see a very, very faint blood stain on the side of the table that had just never washed out completely.
It was hard to believe it had only been five months since she had been shot by General Beckman. It seemed like it had been a lifetime.
Sarah didn’t know how long she stood there before she heard a voice in the doorway. “Something on your mind?”
It was a welcome voice, to be sure, but not necessarily the voice she most wanted to hear just then. “It’s no big deal, Bryce. Just the shooting, and what happened with Carina… you know how it is.”
Bryce nodded as he stepped into the room. “Believe me, I do,” he replied. “The pain, the confusion… I experienced that firsthand when I watched Chuck take you away.”
Okay, that was not what she had been expecting. “Say what now?”
Bryce’s face took on a very sincere and somewhat frightening expression. “I never got completely over you,” he told her. “When you didn’t pick up the phone in Los Angeles… when I heard that you and Chuck had started something… and worst of all, when I heard that you were getting married.”
He took a deep breath. “I just felt like something inside of me had died. And truth be told, I’ve never completely recovered.”
Sarah shook her head, incredulous. “Okay, look, I so cannot deal with this right now. And come on, Bryce, what about Rachel?”
Bryce narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean you can’t deal with this right now? I’ve been dealing with it for FOUR YEARS, Sarah.”
She threw her hands up in the air. “And yet you never once said anything? You can’t just drop this on me, Bryce –“
He grabbed her hands as they fell, and looked into her eyes. “Then you don’t have to deal with it, Sarah. Just help me.”
Sarah did not like this situation one bit. “Bryce, you’re starting to frighten me here,” she said softly, hoping he’d take the hint.
But he didn’t. Instead, he moved his hands to her shoulders. “Sarah Walker, I just can’t hold back any more. I still love you. You have to know that.”
And without warning, he leaned in and kissed her. Sarah’s eyes went wide in alarm, her body stiff. She froze for a moment in shock.
When she heard Lisa say, “Mama?” though, it snapped her out of it. Bringing her hands up, she pushed Bryce away, making him stagger backward. Then, winding up her left arm, she hauled off and backhanded him across the face, the stone on her engagement ring tearing into his cheek.
The slap staggered him again, and he brought a hand up to his face. Bringing it away, he saw the blood. “I guess you feel differently,” he said in a low voice.
“Get out,” Sarah hissed. “Get the hell out, right now.”
She stayed standing in the room as Bryce exited. She was still standing in the same spot two minutes later, when Chuck came into the room.
“Uh, is there a particular reason why Bryce just stormed out of here with his face bleeding?”
Sarah looked up at him, her expression guarded. “Well… in the interest of full disclosure…”
9:30 A.M., PDT
Tuesday, July 24th, 2012
Studio City, California
It was quiet in the SCCS building. It almost seemed TOO quiet.
Morgan sat at his usual spot – the reception desk in the lobby, where he had unfortunately spent far too little time as of late. The phones hadn’t rung at all that morning. Chuck and Sarah had been uncharacteristically quiet when they came in. Bryce hadn’t said a word, and he’d been sporting a rather nasty looking cut on his face. Rachel Harrison had stormed in looking incredibly angry, with red rimmed eyes that looked as though they had been that way for a couple of days.
John Casey, Will Williamson, Mitch Tucker, and Carina Hansen had all stood by Morgan’s desk for nearly twenty minutes as the five of them discussed in hushed voices the fact that none of them really had a clue what was going on. That had continued until Chuck had come out of his office and told them all in a very dangerous sounding voice to get the hell to work.
With all of the staff given a weekly reprieve on Tuesdays from hell at the Empire Plaza, everybody was in the office and dressed professionally. Chuck, however, was dressed in a much more somber fashion than Morgan could ever remember having seen him before.
A black Armani suit, a black Brooks Brothers shirt, a black silk tie, and black shoes. Chuck didn’t really look like somebody Morgan would particularly be in the mood for messing with.
At 10:30, something particularly bizarre happened. A tone sounded over the P.A., indicating that it had been turned on. Morgan looked up quizzically – that had not before happened in the SCCS building.
A moment later, though, the distinctive, gravelly voice of Johnny Cash began to sound from the speakers.
“And I heard, as it were, the voice of thunder. One of the four beasts saying, ‘Come and see,’ and I saw, and behold, a white horse.”
The door to Chuck’s office flew open, and he slowly walked out, his posture stiff, his step almost military. Morgan was alarmed to see Chuck's Ruger .357 revolver strapped to his hip rather than in its usual shoulder holster.
“Chuck, what the hell is going on?”
There’s a man goin’ ‘round, takin’ names… he decides who to free and who to blame. Everybody won’t be treated all the same… there’ll be a golden ladder reachin’ down, when the man comes around.
“Not now, Morgan,” Chuck replied, his voice quiet but deadly. He strode past Morgan’s desk toward the door to the stairway.
“Chuck, buddy, listen, I don’t know exactly what you’re planning on doing, but maybe you should stop and breathe, think about this a minute?”
The hairs on your arm will stand up, at the terror in each sip and in each sup…will you partake of that last offered cup, or disappear into the potter’s ground? When the man comes around.
Morgan had interposed himself between Chuck and the stairwell door. “Chuck, seriously. I don’t like the look in your eyes.”
Chuck looked down at Morgan, and his expression softened a little. “Morgan, listen to me very carefully. What is about to happen is completely deserved. Somebody is probably going to get their ass kicked. But the gun… it’s just for show, okay?”
Hear the trumpets, hear the pipers… one hundred million angels singin’… multitudes are marching to the big kettledrum…
Morgan still didn’t like what looked to be occurring, but he was willing to trust his oldest friend’s judgment. “Alright, Chuck. Just, try not to do too much damage, okay?’
Chuck nodded. “That I can assure you of. I’m still just a weenie civilian, remember?”
He opened the stairwell door and started up to the second floor, Morgan right behind him.
Voices callin’, voices cryin’, some are born and some are dyin’. It’s Alpha and Omega’s kingdom come.
Chuck took the stairs two at a time, with Morgan struggling to keep up. When he reached the top, he slammed the crash bar into the door. The door flew open, banging against the wall.
Chuck stood on the administration floor, looking across the cubicles. Every eye in the room had turned to him, and the door to Sarah’s office cracked open. She looked out, wondering what the hell was going on.
A grim smile appeared on Chuck’s face. “Oh, Bryce…”
And the whirlwind is in the thorn tree, and the virgins are all trimming their wicks. The whirlwind is in the thorn tree… it’s hard for thee to kick against the pricks.
Bryce rose slowly from his desk. “Yes, Chuck?” he asked, his voice guarded.
“Come here a moment, would you?” Chuck replied. He began to walk toward Bryce’s cubicle. Bryce exited the cubicle and met Bryce halfway.
Chuck slowly raised his left hand to Bryce’s eye level, the back of his hand toward Bryce. “Take a good look at my hand,” he said. “Notice what’s on the ring finger?”
Till Armageddon, no shalam, no shalom. Then the father hen will call his chickens home. The wise men will bow down before the throne, and at his feet they’ll cast their golden crowns, when the man comes around.
Bryce gulped visibly. “Chuck, seriously, it wasn’t what you think it was…”
Chuck ignored him. “Do you know whose hand the matching ring is on?”
Bryce nodded. “I do, Chuck, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”
“Spare me your platitudes, Bryce,” Chuck growled. “I made a vow to Sarah, and she made a vow to me. How DARE you try to tamper with that.”
Whoever is unjust, let him be unjust still. Whoever is righteous, let him be righteous still. Whoever is filthy, let him be filthy still. Listen to the words long written down, when the man comes around.
“Chuck –“
Bryce had been so fixated on Chuck’s left hand that he didn’t even notice when Chuck’s right hand shot up, balled into a fist, and headed directly for Bryce’s face. It impacted Bryce’s left cheek at an alarming rate of speed. There was a sickening crack, and Bryce was knocked off his feet, drawing a gasp from Rachel Harrison.
Bryce rolled over, his face throbbing. He pushed himself up to his knees, and brought his hand to his mouth. It came away covered in blood. He slowly turned to face Chuck –
Hear the trumpets, hear the pipers… one hundred million angels singin’… multitudes are marching to the big kettledrum…
- and Chuck’s left foot caught Bryce just under the ribcage, throwing him backwards to land on the floor. Bryce doubled over in pain, a cough involuntarily making its way up from his lungs. The cough was accompanied by a fresh burst of blood from the injury to his mouth.
Now Bryce was mad, but unfortunately for him, anger was not quite enough to overcome the pain he was in. “You know, Chuck,” he gasped as he struggled to his feet, “I was trained by the CIA. I know a very large number of ways to kill you.”
“Save it,” Chuck growled, unsnapping his holster and withdrawing the .357 revolver.
Voices callin’, voices cryin’, some are born and some are dyin’. It’s Alpha and Omega’s kingdom come. And the whirlwind is in the thorn tree, and the virgins are all trimming their wicks.
Bryce was experiencing a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a very long time. Fear. “Uh, Chuck, what exactly do you plan to do with that?” he asked, his hands slowly rising into the air.
Sarah’s office door had come all the way open, and there was a look of shock on her face – but Bryce noticed that neither she nor anybody else was moving to intervene.
Chuck cocked the hammer on the revolver. “Sarah is my wife, Bryce,” he replied, ignoring Bryce’s question. “She moved on from you many years ago, and it’s time for you to do the same.”
The whirlwind is in the thorn tree, it’s hard for thee to kick against the pricks, in measured hundredweight and penny pound, when the man comes around.
Chuck slowly released the hammer, letting it back down. Bryce breathed a sigh of relief.
“You’ve been my friend for too long for me to do something really stupid,” Chuck told Bryce. “But you will never, ever touch Sarah again.”
Bryce nodded, as Chuck continued. “You are suspended for ten days, without pay,” Chuck said. “You are not to enter the SCCS building during that time. You are free to contact any SCCS staff, including Sarah. However, if you contact her, it is to be on a professional basis only.”
“Thank you, Chuck,” Bryce said quietly.
Chuck nodded. “You’re welcome, Bryce. But let me make something clear – if you ever, EVER even think about going anywhere near Sarah again, you will be terminated.”
He replaced the gun in its holster and snapped it shut. “And I don’t mean you’ll be fired.”
“And I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts. And I looked, and behold, a pale horse, and his name that sat on him was Death, and hell followed with him.”
