Casey and Sarah followed Chuck into the Think Tank's hidden R&D wing. Engineers were hunched over benches, surrounded by sketches, molds, and glowing monitors.
"Welcome to the toy shop," Chuck said, gesturing proudly.
At one table, a technician peeled a rubbery face from a mold — eerily lifelike down to pores and faint blemishes.
"Hyper-realistic latex masks," Chuck explained. "They can hold up under heat, sweat, even long-term wear. We're in final testing."
Sarah tilted her head, impressed. "Like Mission Impossible."
Chuck grinned. "Exactly. I saw the movie and thought, hey, why not make them real?"
Casey crossed his arms. "So now we're basing national security on popcorn flicks?"
Chuck smirked. "Sometimes Hollywood gets it right."
At another station, a researcher pressed a small chip to his throat. His voice came out in a flawless Casey impression: "I'm grumpy, I like guns, and I don't smile."
Casey glared. "That's not funny."
Chuck laughed. "Voice modulators. With the right sample, you can sound like anyone. Combine those with the masks, and infiltration becomes a whole lot easier."
Sarah's eyes lingered on the tech. "This could change the game."
Chuck shrugged, though the pride was clear in his voice. "Think tank. Thinking's kind of our thing."
Briefing Room
Beckman's face appeared on the monitor, crisp and cold.
"Carmichael. Walker. Casey. Your first joint op begins tonight. A broker codenamed Orpheus is arranging to sell classified U.S. weapons schematics. The meet is at a gala in Prague. Walker, you'll pose as the buyer. Carmichael, you'll be her consultant. Casey, tactical overwatch."
Chuck leaned back. "So… basically Mission Impossible, but with government funding."
Casey muttered, "Except we don't get a theme song."
Prague – National Museum Gala
Crystal chandeliers sparkled, string music drifting across marble floors. Chuck entered in a tailored tux, Sarah on his arm, her gown a whisper of elegance. Casey's voice crackled in their comms from the surveillance van.
"Eyes on you. Don't screw this up."
At the bar, Chuck slipped fully into Carmichael mode. "Alaskan Polar Bear Heater," he ordered smoothly. "Shaken, not stirred."
The bartender blinked, confused, but nodded quickly. Sarah smirked at him. "Really?"
Chuck whispered back, "Come on. Every spy's got to have a drink."
The Flash
As they moved across the room, Chuck's vision pulsed — the Intersect firing like lightning. Names, faces, dossiers flooded his mind. He blinked, gripping Sarah's arm.
"Got him," Chuck murmured.
Across the room stood a silver-haired man in an expensive suit, surrounded by two guards. A sleek black briefcase never left his hand.
"Viktor Orpheus," Chuck said, his voice low. "Ex-KGB procurement officer. Specializes in black market trades. That's our guy."
Sarah's gaze sharpened. "You're sure?"
Chuck nodded. "Intersect doesn't lie."
Casey's voice grunted in their ears. "Target confirmed. Proceed."
The Meet
Sarah glided toward Orpheus, slipping into her cover as a wealthy buyer. Chuck hung back, swirling his ridiculous cocktail like he belonged there.
"Mr. Orpheus," Sarah said smoothly. "I hear you have merchandise worth my time."
The man studied her, then shifted his gaze to Chuck. "And who is this?"
"My consultant," Sarah replied, perfectly calm.
Chuck smiled faintly. "I make sure deals like this go smoothly."
Orpheus's expression flickered — recognition? suspicion? — but he gave the faintest nod.
The briefcase sat at his side. Intersect flickered in Chuck's vision again: biometric lock, schematics on a secured drive, detonation protocol if tampered with.
Chuck's pulse spiked. "Casey. The case is booby-trapped. Needs to be opened clean."
Casey muttered, "Just our luck."
The Switch & Escape
Sarah leaned in close to one of Orpheus's guards, her champagne glass "slipping" onto his sleeve. He cursed, distracted just long enough for Chuck to slide the case to his side with his foot.
He tapped the lock, the Intersect flashing instructions in his mind. Thirty seconds later, the case clicked open. Hard drive secured.
Then Orpheus turned. His eyes narrowed. "Mr. Carmichael. You're not on my list."
The gala erupted in chaos. Guards shouted, drawing weapons. Sarah moved in an instant, heels flashing as she floored the nearest man. Casey burst through the side entrance, laying out two more.
"Move, Bartowski!" Casey barked.
Chuck sprinted, clutching the case. They burst onto the rooftop as spotlights swept the skyline. A helicopter whirred in the distance.
Sarah clipped a grappling line to Chuck's belt. "Do you trust me?"
Chuck's eyes widened. "Not when you say it like that—!"
She shoved him off the roof with her. Chuck screamed as they swung across the Prague skyline, crashing onto the next rooftop. Sarah stood, unruffled. Chuck groaned, sprawled on the gravel.
Casey's van screeched up moments later. "Get in before they start shooting!"
Debrief – Carmichael Industries
Beckman's expression filled the monitor. "The schematics are secured. Walker will remain in place as a consultant for Carmichael Industries. Effective immediately, your team is permanent."
Casey grunted. "Team's messy, but it works."
Sarah gave Chuck a faint smile. "Not bad for our first mission together."
Chuck loosened his tie, still catching his breath. "So… do all our missions end with me nearly plummeting to my death, or was this just a fun trial run?"
Casey smirked. "Trial run."
Chuck groaned.