Chuck vs. the NSA Agent 3/?

[fojee]

Previous parts: 1, 2

Chuck vs. the NSA Agent
by Fojee

3/?
They were in California and it was easy enough to hire some pretty, little blonde to act as bait, luring the target out on a supposed date. Bartowski fell for it hook, line and sinker, complete with gaping fish face. Casey would have chuckled, or at least smirked, if it didn’t seem too easy. He refused to let his guard down.

 

The girl was supposed to take him to dinner in a small café on the bad side of town, but her cover was new girl looking for someone to show her around, so she had to follow Bartowski’s lead. Casey and his team tailed them to a small, crowded club where he got an eyeful of Bartowski doing unspeakable things on the dance floor with the blonde, who was reciprocating a little too enthusiastically.

 

His point man, Kane, raised an eyebrow, but he gestured for them to wait: too many people and too many things that could go wrong. A part of him was itching for a fight, but he knew there was a time and place to let go, and to hold back. His men had also been instructed to scope out the rest of the people there. It was possible that Larkin was just waiting for the opportunity to make contact. The thought of getting both of them distracted him enough that Kane had to elbow him to catch his attention.

 

“He’s gone,” Kane practically shouted in his ear.

 

:”Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, hand going to his weapon as his eyes scanned the room. Kane contacted the rest of his men and they fanned out. There was a guy lying on the ground floor, surrounded by a tangle of people, which made his job that much harder. He had one guy covering the entrance, but the club could have a back door somewhere. After ten minutes, it was obvious Charles Bartowski and Lily Rose had left the club.

 

Outside the door, he took a minute to let his eardrums recover, before pulling out his phone and calling the girl’s number. Lily Rose had no connection to the NSA. She took some classes at the college in daytime, and worked nights, an independent contractor offering a wide variety of services. Casey got her name from another contact of his, one he trusted, well, more than most. The possibilities ran through his mind even as he waited for the girl to answer. Someone else could have gotten to them both. She was a spy. She was working with or for Larkin. Bartowski turned her in one date.

 

“Hello?” She finally picked up.

 

“Where the hell are you?” He barked out, even as he activated the trace on the girl’s phone. They all piled into the van, engine already warming up.

 

“Something happened, okay.” Her voice went softer, as if she was trying not to be heard. “Look, I don’t really know what you want with this guy, but he’s really sweet, and I’m not entirely comfortable…”

 

“You get paid for sex, missy,” Casey interrupted with a growl. “How uncomfortable would it be to…”

 

It was a mistake. “Well why don’t you stick your money up your ass,” the girl interrupted his diatribe, before hanging up.

 

There was a moment of silence, before Kane ventured. “We got her general location, sir.”

 

Casey growled out one word. “Go.”