“HAVE YOU LOST YOUR GODDAMN MIND, WALKER?!”
Beth flinched. It had been nearly six months since anybody had called her “Walker”, and even longer than that since anybody had spoken to her in that fashion.
She went with strategy number one, though. Play dumb, try to convince Director Graham that this was a case of mistaken identity. “I’m sorry, sir, I think you have the wrong person.”
Graham rolled his eyes. “Please,” he snarked. “Sarah Walker, Elizabeth Reynolds, whatever you’re calling yourself these days. I’m the director of an intelligence agency. Give me some credit.”
Oh well, it had been worth a shot. “Okay,” she replied. “You found me. How? Why?”
Her voice took on a certain urgency with those two questions. “I’ll tell you,” Graham said. “But first, you’re going to tell me how and why you disappeared.”
Beth nodded. “Fair enough. The why is simple – if I disappeared, the CIA couldn’t use me to hurt Chuck Bartowski anymore. I couldn’t allow him to be hurt by me anymore. I knew that he’d be hurt by my disappearance, but that would be the end of it. As far as how – I was taught how to dive into water from great heights. I dove into Long Beach Harbor and stowed away on the Catalina Island Ferry. I rented a hotel room here, changed my appearance, and transferred funds and materials I had at a bank in the Caymans.”
Graham nodded. “Pretty slick,” he admitted. “Your mistake, though, was using your birth name. Now, granted, nobody even thought to look for you under that for months, but when we found that an AMEX Black had been issued in the name of Elizabeth Reynolds, that set off an alarm bell – at least for me and Mike O’Halloran. After that, it was pretty easy to track you here.”
“Alright,” Beth said. “But why? Could you possibly have thought that I’d go back inside now?”
Graham looked at her for a moment. Finally, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a flash drive. “You have a computer we can use?”
Beth cocked her head and gave him a look. “Seriously?” she said. “We’re in a computer shop.”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Graham replied. “Take this flash drive and plug it into a computer. Then watch the file titled 02-28-08.wmv. Maybe then you’ll understand why.”
Beth nodded. “Alright.” She took the flash drive and plugged it into the desk computer. It loaded fairly quickly, and she told Windows Media Player to open the file.
“It’s a surveillance video,” Graham explained as it started.
9:30 A.M., Pacific Standard Time
Thursday, February 28th, 2008
Forest Lawn Cemetery
Los Angeles, California
The decision had been practically incomprehensible. The choice to purchase a headstone and an empty plot. Maybe the headstone was understandable as a memorial, but purchasing the empty plot in the vain hope that the Los Angeles County Sheriff would find a body?
Madness.
But nobody dared say a word to Chuck Bartowski. They were all quite certain that he would end anybody who dared question any decision he made regarding how to memorialize Sarah Walker.
The headstone was simple. Bryce had told Chuck what Sarah’s birthday was, and so he was able to put that on the headstone. It read, “Sarah Walker, June 14, 1982 – January 30, 2008, Leader, Lifesaver, Loving Friend.”
Chuck had asked Dana Hanson, his old pastor, to do a brief memorial service. Pastor Hanson found that request a little odd, since Chuck hadn’t himself set foot in First Lutheran Church in over ten years, and Sarah had been a non-observant Catholic. But Ellie had asked him to please just go along with it, because she believed that Chuck’s mental state was extremely fragile.
And so, when the Los Angeles County Coroner issued an official certificate of death on February 27th, Chuck decided that the service would happen the next day. He personally called Forest Lawn and convinced them to allow a small service on the plot itself.
It was a small affair. Chuck was there, of course, along with Ellie and Devin. Morgan and Casey were there, and Bryce and Carina had both come into town. That was it.
Dana Hanson stood in front of the six of them, a small black book open in the palm of his hand. “Good morning,” he said quietly. “We are here today to commemorate the life of Sarah Walker, to remember her death, and to celebrate her new life with our Lord. Will you pray with me?”
Everybody bowed their heads, even though there wasn’t a single one of them who was observant. “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the source of all mercy and the God of all consolation,” Pastor Hanson said. “He comforts us in all our sorrows so that we can comfort others in their sorrows with the consolation we ourselves have received from God.”
Chuck could feel a tear begin to trickle down his right cheek. He reached up and angrily wiped it away. He had kept his composure for the last four weeks, and he was not going to let it crack now.
“When we were baptized in Christ Jesus, we were baptized into his death. We were buried therefore with him by Baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live a new life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. It is this that we pray for our sister, Sarah, in the name of God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.”
Chuck crossed himself – something he hadn’t done in years. “Amen.”
“Please be seated,” Pastor Hanson said. As they sat, Chuck turned and looked to Carina. He nodded.
She nodded back and rose from her seat, walking to stand by the headstone. Carina stood there for a moment, her eyes closed, and then she opened her mouth and began to sing.
“When peace, like a river, attendeth my way… when sorrows like sea billows roll; whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say, it is well, it is well, with my soul!
“It is well, with my soul… it is well, it is well, with my soul!”
Chuck had had no idea that Carina could sing. However, when she had asked if she could do just that brief bit at the memorial service, he had readily agreed. She had said she couldn’t really explain, but that she felt she owed it to Sarah.
Carina returned to her seat, and Pastor Hanson stood again. “The Lord be with you,” he said.
“And also with you,” Chuck, Ellie, and Carina responded. Everybody else looked a little confused.
“Let us pray,” Pastor Hanson continued. “Oh God of grace and glory, we remember before you today our sister, Sarah. We thank you for giving her to us to know and to love as a companion in our pilgrimage on earth. In your boundless compassion, console us who mourn. Give us quiet confidence that we may continue our course in faith, through your Son, Jesus Christ, our Lord.”
“Amen,” Chuck whispered.
“Chuck has indicated that he’d like to say a few words,” Dana Hanson said. “So, at this time, I’m going to invite him to come up and share with us all.”
Chuck stood and turned to face the six other people sitting there. “It’s funny, how I met Sarah,” he began. “She had a broken cell phone, of all things.”
He smiled, remembering the first time she had walked into the Buy More. “As she walked up to us, Morgan compared her to Vicki Vale, from Batman, so her first impression of me was doing this ridiculous little beatbox with the name Vicki Vale.”
That drew a few chuckles. “But she didn’t judge me, then, or ever,” he continued. “Despite the fact that I never would’ve thought that I could possibly be in any sort of social circle with her, she always treated me as an equal. Even when I pissed her off – which, believe me, was more often than not – she still found the patience to deal with me.”
He looked down. “I don’t know why she chose to leave us in the way she did, but I will tell you that I will always value, always treasure every moment that I got to spend with her. Every smile, every greeting, every brush of the hand – those are memories that will never disappear.”
Chuck sighed, and took a breath to maintain his composure. “Bryce, Morgan, I hate to break it to you, guys, but she was my best friend.”
His two friends both silently nodded. They understood, but for totally different reasons. “I loved her in a way that had nothing to do with romance or anything like that,” Chuck continued. “She was always there for me. She would have done anything for me, and I have to believe that even in the end, I was still in her thoughts.”
Chuck nodded, and it looked like he was going to say something else, but then he abruptly sat down. Dana Hanson looked over at him, and then rose.
“God has made us his people through our Baptism into Christ,” he said. “Living together in trust and hope, we confess our faith.”
All six people seated in front of Dana Hanson knew what to say here.
“I believe in God, the Father Almighty, creator of heaven and earth.
“I believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord. He was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit and born of the virgin Mary. He suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried. He descended into hell. On the third day, he rose again. He ascended into heaven, and is seated at the right hand of the Father. He will come again to judge the living and the dead.
“I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting. Amen.”
“Into your hands, oh merciful Savior, we commend your servant, Sarah,” Pastor Hanson continued. “Acknowledge, we humbly beseech you, a sheep of your own fold, a lamb of your own flock, a sinner of your own redeeming. Receive her into the arms of your mercy, into the blessed rest of everlasting peace, and into the glorious company of the saints in light.”
“Amen.”
“May the God of the resurrection, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, guide and bless you always.”
“Amen.”
“Go in peace, and serve the Lord.”
“Thanks be to God.”
Slowly, everybody trickled away from the grave site, retreating to the road where the cars were parked. Soon, Chuck was left alone by the headstone.
He sighed heavily. Walking back to the chair he had been sitting in, he reached under it, and withdrew the cellophane wrapped dozen red roses he had brought with him. He laid them against the headstone.
“I miss you, Sarah, I really do,” he said quietly. “I wish I knew why you had done this. I wish you had just taken the time to talk to me. If it was something to do with the CIA, I’m sure you could’ve worked something out. You could’ve done anything. I know you could’ve.
“More than that, though, I wish you were here with me.” Tears began to spill down his cheeks, and he finally allowed them to flow unchecked, after a month of keeping them inside. “I miss you so much… I love you.”
He crouched down by the headstone. He bent his head, and the sobs finally began to come. For five minutes, he stayed there by the headstone, the tears and the grief spilling out of him. Finally, his chest stopped heaving. He looked up as a beam of sunshine finally broke through the marine layer, shining down on Chuck and the headstone.
A small smile crossed his face as he looked toward the sky. He stood up and looked down at the headstone.
“I’ll see you later,” he whispered.
1:30 P.M., Pacific Daylight Time
July 16th, 2008
Avalon, Santa Catalina Island, California
The video file came to an end. Beth stared at the screen, transfixed. She realized that her face was wet with her own tears.
Director Graham was still standing across the counter from her. “Are you pleased with yourself now?” he asked, his voice low.
Beth looked up at him, wide-eyed. She took a moment to process what Graham had just said, and then she hauled off and slapped him as hard as she could.
“How could you ask me that?!” she hissed, grief and rage piercing her voice. “How DARE you?!”
“It’s time for you to come to grips with reality, Ms. Reynolds,” Graham replied, ignoring the stinging in his face. “You’ve committed a very, very serious crime.”
“Have I?” she asked. “As far as I was aware, Sarah Walker never actually existed.”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. As far as Los Angeles County and the state of California were concerned, Sarah Walker was very real. The fact that you faked your own death could land you a lengthy jail term.”
Graham sighed. “But I’m not here to take you in,” he said. “I’m here to make you an offer.”
Beth looked at him warily. “What offer would that be?”
“I’ll forget all about the last six months – starting with the fact that you completely ignored orders and went to retrieve Bartowski from Longshore, and going right up until now – if you’ll come back to the Agency. You can’t be a deep-cover operative any longer, but I’m sure we’ll find some use for Field Agent Elizabeth Lisa Reynolds.”
She thought about it for a moment. “What would I have to do?” she finally asked.
Graham smiled. “The first thing you have to do is go to Los Angeles, retrieve your files on Bartowski from wherever you stashed them, and turn them over to me, so that I can provide them to his new handler.”
“He has a new handler?”
Graham nodded. “We left him just with Casey for the last six months,” he said. “He was practically worthless during that time anyway – he’s had all of three flashes in that time. However, he recently created and sold a video game to Electronic Arts. With the five hundred thousand dollars he made off of it, he decided to move into his own place.
“We decided it would look suspicious for Agent Casey to up and move to Chuck’s new apartment complex, so we’re assigning a new handler to live in the same complex. She’ll also be filling your role of cover girlfriend.”
Beth’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry, is that JEALOUSY I see?” Graham asked mockingly. “You should have perhaps thought about that before pulling your little Thelma and Louise act.”
He shook his head. “Anyway, we’ll be introducing him to her at Comic-Con the week after next. We can’t just send her in there – it’d look too weird. And then, hopefully, she’ll be able to get him back to being the Intersect all the time instead of once every other month.”
“So, the new handler, she’s Agency?” Beth asked, finally speaking.
“No,” Graham replied bitterly. “After Larkin’s break-in of the original Intersect and your little stunt, the NSA doesn’t trust the CIA any longer. No, his new handler is FBI.”
He stopped. “She even looks kind of like you used to, except smaller, like the Mini-Me to your Doctor Evil. Her name’s Veronica Mars.”
