Chapter 69: Chapter 69: 1 Month Briefing, Fishing Knife? And Concluded Debriefing.
Chuck slouched further into the uncomfortable chair at Castle, feeling the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him as the screen in front of him flickered with the latest briefing from General Beckman. His hand, which had previously been propped up in some attempt at dignified posture, had slipped to the back of his neck. The tension between his ears was slowly building into a headache as he watched the replay of the Fishing Sword Incident yet again.
Every single replay of that chaotic event felt like it was slowly wearing away at what little was left of his already frayed patience and sanity. He could hear Morgan's yelps from the footage, each more shrill than the last, as they all scrambled to avoid whatever mess Guldrin had managed to turn his invention into this time. Shiro's dry commentary and Guldrin's sarcastic muttering, however, only served to further highlight the utter absurdity of the whole situation.
Beckman's face, stern and unyielding, filled the screen as the footage looped over and over. Her usual poker-faced demeanor was unwavering, though Chuck swore he could catch the faintest twitch in her left eye.
Was it frustration? Amusement? Was she even remotely aware of the sheer insanity they were witnessing? He couldn't tell. But one thing was certain, whatever reaction she was having was scarier than anything he'd ever experienced.
He'd seen her angry before, but this was different. It was almost as though she was on the verge of losing her cool, but only just enough to make Chuck's gut twist in dread.
"Mr. Bartowski," Beckman's voice rang out, cutting through the oppressive silence of the room. She was perfectly composed, as always, but there was a certain sharpness to her tone that immediately put Chuck on edge. "What exactly am I looking at?"
Chuck cleared his throat. The weight of the situation bore down on him like a mountain, and he suddenly wished he could melt into his chair. But he couldn't. He was stuck. He had to respond, and the pressure was only mounting. He straightened up slightly in his chair, pulling whatever semblance of dignity he had left together.
"That, General, is..." He paused, searching for the best way to phrase it. "An experimental prototype designed by Guldrin and Shiro, named the Fishing Sword MK.1." He winced internally. He knew that wasn't exactly the smoothest explanation, but it was the truth.
He rubbed the back of his neck, forcing himself to look at the screen, where the chaotic disaster was unfolding once again. "It's... uh, technically a weapon. Though, I suppose 'weaponized chaos' might be a more accurate description."
Sarah, seated beside him, pinched the bridge of her nose, her expression one of palpable frustration. Chuck couldn't blame her; after all, this was her and everyone else's life now, trying to make sense of Guldrin and Shiro's wildly unhinged inventions. Casey, leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed, let out a snort. "Weaponized chaos? More like weaponized stupidity."
Chuck glared at him. "Hey!" he shot back. "You saw what that thing did! Imagine that in the wrong hands! I mean, sure, it was probably designed with good intentions, but that thing was seriously out of control! If something like that got into enemy hands, it would be... it would be-" Chuck's words trailed off as he realized he was just spiraling into a panic that wasn't helping his case.
Casey, unperturbed, simply raised an eyebrow. "Imagine it in the right hands, though. Still looks like it belongs in a Saturday morning cartoon. But let's be honest, a knife-sized prototype with an electrical component like that? I'd be nervous. Close-quarters combat, and you get a nice shock from some high-tinsel wire flying at you? It's ridiculous, but damn effective. It's asinine, sure, but it could be dangerous."
Chuck paused, his hands gripping the sides of his chair as he absorbed what Casey was saying. Yeah, he had a point. In the right hands, something like that could be terrifying. But that still didn't change the fact that they were dealing with an unpredictable teenager who couldn't seem to decide whether he was making a weapon or an over-complicated art project.
Beckman, whose face had remained stony throughout the banter, now raised a single eyebrow. She leaned forward slightly, her hands clasped in front of her with an almost unnerving calmness. "Major Casey might have a point," she said, her voice measured but laced with something that almost sounded like interest. "The concept, while currently... unpolished, demonstrates potential. If adapted properly, a compact, let's say for example a knife as he suggested, a less volatile variant, could become an invaluable asset."
Chuck's mind raced. She was actually acknowledging the potential of this monstrosity? Of course, she would, though, General Beckman was all about the potential of anything that could be weaponized. Still, the fact that she was even considering this disaster of an idea in a serious light was enough to send a shiver down his spine.
"Imagine our best and brightest, all wielding such unconventional weapons… It would be like Christmas came early." Casey grinned, his hands itching to test it out.
"Exactly," Beckman continued, her voice slightly warmer now, as though she was pleased to have reached some kind of understanding with Casey. "We need that ingenuity. The real challenge, however, will be steering Guldrin's creativity in a more... controlled direction, without revealing our surveillance or raising suspicion. Under no circumstances are we to push these brilliant minds away from us. They will be our key to establishing a connection with the Goldbloods. Even if the Scion doesn't know his true lineage, once we get in contact with his mother and sister, this will be our chance to move forward."
Chuck blinked, barely able to keep up with the unfolding plan. "Wait. So, let me get this straight. Not only are we spying on a kid who's got more brainpower in his pinky than the entire CIA combined, but now we're also supposed to manipulate him into making a super weapon for us? And all while keeping the teens happy so they can lead us to Guldrin's mom? No pressure, right?"
Casey folded his arms with a smug smile. "It's not manipulation, Bartowski. It's persuasion. You dangle a carrot in front of him, let him think it's his idea, and boom, next-gen weaponry. Simple. He's your asset. Handle him like a true spy would. You always want to be let out of the van, well here is your chance."
Chuck was shaking his head, disbelief written all over his face. "Oh, yeah, simple. Because convincing a hyper-intelligent fourteen-year-old to work on an arms deal without him figuring it out is just... so simple."
"Don't forget his girlfriend," Casey added with a knowing look. "They're a team. If you want to keep him happy, you gotta keep her happy too."
Chuck groaned. "Right. Because that's going to be easy. A super-intelligent kid and his brilliant girlfriend. Great. How do I keep them from realizing we're using them as pawns while making sure they don't feel like they're being manipulated?"
Sarah, looking slightly more empathetic than Casey, placed a hand on Chuck's shoulder. "Chuck, it's not as bad as you think. You know how to talk to them. You've done it before. You just have to be careful. Let them feel like they're in control. Keep the conversation about their inventions, their brilliance, and their ideas. Make them feel important."
Chuck rolled his eyes. "Yeah, because the best way to get a teenager to trust you is by complimenting them about their absolutely terrifying gadgets. What could go wrong?"
Beckman's voice sliced through his sarcastic commentary with surgical precision. "Bartowski, your ethical concerns are duly noted. However, this is a matter of national security. If you want to continue this operation without additional scrutiny, you'll find a way to make this happen. The stakes are too high to let it slip through our fingers."
Chuck slumped deeper into his chair, feeling his spine bend under the weight of the task. "Why do I feel like I'm the only one who sees how insane this is?" He muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
Casey, unfazed, looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Because you're the one who's actually thinking about it. The rest of us? We just get the job done."
Chuck sighed, his mind whirling as he thought about everything that had just been laid out before him. He was about to take on the responsibility of babysitting two of the smartest kids he'd ever met while trying to manipulate them into making weapons for the government, and on top of that, he had to do it without them catching on. All this, while pretending to be their friend and keeping up the facade of an undercover mission. It was a lot to juggle, and Chuck knew that one wrong move could expose everything.
Chuck's fingers drummed nervously on the edge of his coffee cup, his mind not so much focused on the half-empty mug, but more on the conversation that had just transpired between him and General Beckman. The weight of his latest mission, a mission that was spiraling into something far more complex and dangerous than he had anticipated, pressed heavily on his chest.
He had signed up for espionage, sure, or did he? Did he ever get a choice? But this? This was something else entirely. He wasn't sure what kind of spy he was becoming anymore, one trying to protect his country or one unwittingly dragging two brilliant, terrifying kids into a government agenda they wouldn't even begin to understand, or maybe they would? He wasn't sure about anything anymore.
The worst part? He wasn't sure if it was the danger or the sheer moral messiness that had him so unsettled. Maybe it was both.
And the Teens. Guldrin and Shiro. Where had they come from?
The more Chuck learned about them, the less he understood. Guldrin, for one, was an enigma wrapped in an oddball genius, the kind of kid whose ideas should have been published in research journals but instead seemed to spill out casually over pizza or while tinkering with car engines.
Chuck had been there when the first hints of the kid's creativity had shown up, like when he casually mentioned a pizza drone. A pizza drone. Chuck had laughed at first, chalking it up to just another weird throwaway comment from someone whose mind operated in a way Chuck's never would. But then Guldrin actually laid out the specifications, like it was no big deal, battery life, weight tolerance, GPS systems, and the fact that it was solar-powered, which was impressive on its own. The kid made it sound so casual, as if everyone in the room routinely invented solar-powered drones to deliver food.
And then there was Shiro. Quiet. Deadpan. Cool in a way that Chuck could only aspire to. Shiro's deadpan commentary during the earlier 'Fishing Sword Incident', which Chuck had replayed, much to his horror, for the umpteenth time for General Beckman, had been another reminder that the two of them were anything but typical teenagers. While Guldrin muttered about his ideas and half-formed plans, Shiro's coolly detached observations made Chuck wonder if he was even in the same realm of reality.
Beckman's cold, unflinching stare snapped Chuck out of his spiraling thoughts, bringing him back to the present. She was like a force of nature: commanding, exacting, unrelenting in her pursuit of one thing… results. And right now, Chuck was the only one standing in the way of that.
He took a deep breath and straightened in his seat, looking up at the monitor, where Beckman's face remained as stoic as ever. She was probably sitting in her office, that same unapproachable posture, her eyes locked onto him as if daring him to object to any part of the plan.
"Mr. Bartowski," Beckman's voice cut through the air like a blade, sharper than the Fishing Sword that had been the subject of much ridicule. "We need you to integrate into their world. Be subtle. Be patient. You're not here to be their friend, Bartowski. You're a key player in this operation. I expect you to execute it without fail."
Chuck's stomach churned. If there was one thing that Chuck had learned during his tenure as an unwilling covert operative, it was that the higher-ups didn't mince words, and when Beckman spoke with that tone, it was more than a directive, it was an ultimatum. He had no choice but to go along with it, no matter how messy or morally questionable it seemed.
"Yeah, subtle," Chuck muttered under his breath. "Because I'm great at being subtle." He could already hear the sarcastic edge in his voice, but there was no use in voicing his complaints. He had no idea how to navigate this. This wasn't like making small talk at the Buy More, or even solving an international crisis. This was... this was a kid's game that had somehow evolved into something far more dangerous.
Beckman tilted her head slightly, as if sensing his hesitation. "Did you catch that thing with the pizza drone?" Chuck asked, unable to keep the awe from his voice. "They didn't just suggest it. They detailed it. Battery life, weight specifications, delivery accuracy, everything. And it's solar-powered. Solar-powered!" He threw his hands in the air in exasperation. "These kids- these kids, are doing things that most engineers can't even dream of, and they're doing it like it's just another day at the office. How am I supposed to blend into that without looking like an absolute idiot?"
He knew he was rehashing topics that were already covered, but who could blame him, the sheer absurdity of it all was baffling. And they wanted him to trick two geniuses that came up with that? Why does no one else see what he sees?
Beckman raised an eyebrow, her steely expression softening just the slightest bit. "Good. You're starting to grasp the situation. The more you get into their heads, the better. But don't forget: your priority is the technology. This invention, whatever it becomes, must be replicated. But you're not to make them aware of that. They must think it's a project of their own design, for their own purposes."
Chuck slumped further into his chair, already feeling the crushing weight of what was expected of him. "So, I'm not just a spy now. I'm a babysitter for two genius teenagers who could create a weapon that could change the world. And I'm supposed to manipulate them into making it, all while making them think it's their idea and not reveal the truth behind it. Oh, and also, we plan to steal the weapon once completed, with no intention of giving them credit or royalties… I am sure his family, once we get a hold of them, will love this fact."
Beckman's voice didn't soften, but there was a subtle approval there that Chuck couldn't quite place. "Precisely." She let the word hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "Your primary goal is to get them to build it. They're a means to an end. Once they finish the prototype, you'll steal it. Replicate it. And then we'll have access to technology that could change the course of international power. Once we get into contact with his family, then we can discuss compensation, but that is for later, for now, we need this weapon."
Chuck's stomach twisted. His head swirled with thoughts, moral dilemmas, trust, ethics, all jumbled into one big knot of confusion. But he had to keep his composure. He was Chuck Bartowski, a reluctant spy extraordinaire with no training, just a guy who was thrown into the world of espionage. He wasn't supposed to get all tangled up in personal feelings about the mission. He wasn't supposed to second-guess everything he'd been trained to do, right? That is IF he had been trained, which as of yet, he had not!
"Alright," Chuck said, his voice quiet but firm. He tried to straighten his back and meet Beckman's unwavering gaze. "So, I'm supposed to befriend these kids, figure out how they're building this thing, and then, what? Slowly manipulate them into thinking it's all part of their genius plan, while we steal the tech for ourselves?" He felt his sarcasm rising to the surface, but he tried to keep it in check. This wasn't the time for jokes.
Beckman's expression didn't change. She simply nodded. "That's the mission, Bartowski. I don't care how you do it, but you're going to have to find a way to integrate yourself into their world. I expect you to be subtle, to guide them, to nudge them in the right direction, without them realizing it. You're going to be their mentor. Their friend, even if it is for a cover."
His mind was racing. He had spent weeks observing Guldrin and Shiro, weeks that felt like an eternity, and yet, every time he thought he had a handle on the teens' unpredictable genius, Guldrin managed to surprise him in ways that left Chuck feeling like he was always one step behind.
"Now, moving on," Beckman's voice broke through his thoughts, sharp and commanding as always. "We have yet to make contact with Guldrin's mother or sister. His mother is off the grid, and his sister... last intel says she is somewhere in the savanna, searching for rare inspirational ingredients for a new dish. The director will be joining us for this section of the debriefing."
Beckman's expression didn't change, but Chuck knew there was an edge to her tone. They were all acutely aware that Guldrin was no ordinary kid, and his background, or lack of one, was as much a mystery as the inventions he'd been churning out.
Chuck cleared his throat, glancing around the room before refocusing on the screen. "General, Director," he began, his voice coming out more nervous than he intended. "I'll be honest. Guldrin is... not what we expected. I mean, he's brilliant, yes. But he's also... well, just a kid. A kid with way too much time, smarts, and resources on his hands."
Beckman raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting more. "Explain."
Chuck gestured vaguely toward the mountain of files in front of him, knowing it was a pointless gesture over video, but feeling compelled to do it anyway. "I've observed him for weeks now. He's not scheming or plotting anything nefarious. He's just hyper-focused. And honestly, his projects are... wildly ambitious. Borderline absurd at times. But there's no malice in him. Just curiosity. And an almost compulsive need to create. It's like he, and his girlfriend, see the world as one giant puzzle he's determined to solve."
Beckman's eyes narrowed, the typical calculating look she always had when digesting new information. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing, Bartowski?"
Chuck took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. "It's... both? Look, Guldrin and his girlfriend Shiro are not messing around with toys, even if they treat them as such. I've seen some of the things they've come up with. They're not science projects, as Casey so elegantly put it before." This earned a growl from the stern brute,
"They're concepts that could change the way we think about technology. He built a pizza drone. I mean, yeah, it sounds silly, but think about it! It's solar-powered, with battery life, weight specifications, delivery accuracy, everything down to a T. And that's just one of the hundreds of ideas he's been working on. I have seen it work, they ordered pizza, and sent the drone off to pick it up, it paid, and retrieved the pizza with minimal effort."
Chuck's hands flew up in exasperation, as if trying to grasp the enormity of it all. "And it's all... for fun? That's the thing that blows my mind. He doesn't seem to care about money, fame, or power. He just wants to build. That's it."
Graham, the CIA director, leaned forward on the screen, his steely gaze making Chuck feel as though he was under a microscope. "What about his origins? Has he revealed anything about his background?"
Chuck hesitated, glancing at Sarah, who gave him a subtle nod of encouragement. "No," Chuck said, shifting uncomfortably. "And honestly, I don't think he knows much himself. His focus isn't on where he came from; it's on what he can do now. He's an enigma. He doesn't seem interested in digging into his past. But from what I've gathered, if he does know anything, he's not sharing."
Beckman's lips pressed into a thin line. "This is a national security concern, Bartowski. If he's hiding something-"
Chuck quickly interjected, his voice rising a little too fast. "He's not hiding anything! I mean, I don't think so..."
Chuck trailed off under the intense glares coming from the screen. He quickly adjusted. "What I meant was, he's not hiding anything intentionally. He's just not focused on himself. He's focused on the future. On what he can do now. And let's be clear, he's not some naïve kid. He's not harmless. The tech he's developing is years ahead of anything we have. But it's not malicious. He's not out to conquer the world. He's... just a genius with no filter, as is his girlfriend."
There was a pause on the other side of the screen. Chuck could almost hear Beckman's mind working as she processed what he said. Graham was less expressive, but Chuck could feel the weight of his gaze as if it were a physical thing.
Chuck replayed the footage for the director and general. "It's not about the fishing sword," he continued, his frustration creeping in. "It's about what it represents. Guldrin didn't build it with the intention of creating a weapon. He made it because it sounded like fun. A kid's science project. And look, yeah, it's dangerous. But that's not his intention. It's just the nature of the kind of genius he is."
He paused, waiting for a response. The room was silent for a long moment, and Chuck found himself tapping his fingers again, trying to distract himself from the tension in the air.
Casey, ever the realist, broke the silence with a low chuckle. "It's a kid's science project," he said, shaking his head. "A dangerous one, sure, but still just a science project, even if the real-world application eludes him, the kid just built it… It is insane that someone so young would create something like this with no ulterior motive."
Beckman, however, was less amused. "And yet, this 'science project' involves technology far beyond anything currently available to us."
Chuck couldn't help but nod emphatically. "Exactly! That's my point. Guldrin isn't some mad scientist out to take over the world. He's just, he's just trying to make things. He's like a younger version of Tony Stark, minus the ego, bombs, and, well, the moral compass. Probably. Oh, and he has a bottomless pit of a stomach and a penchant for eating bizarre foods. But seeing how his sister cooks unique items, it isn't surprising, maybe it runs in the family, or his childhood is bleeding through his amnesia."
The words slipped out before Chuck could stop himself. Sarah shot him a quick, amused look, and Casey muttered something about how Stark probably had less chaos in his life than this kid did.
"Look," Chuck said, leaning forward as though to emphasize his next point. "I've spent weeks with him. If he had some grand nefarious plan, I would've seen it by now. But he doesn't. He's just... a kid with a brilliant mind. And I'm telling you, if anyone's a threat, it's not him. It's what happens if someone like Fulcrum or another hostile organization gets their hands on him. That's the real danger."
Sarah's voice was calm but laced with concern. "He's a wildcard, Chuck. A potential asset, or a liability."
Chuck nodded vigorously. "Exactly. If Fulcrum gets wind of what he can do, well, that's a problem we don't want to face. Guldrin's inventions are something else. If the wrong people get access to that kind of technology... we're in serious trouble."
There was another brief silence as everyone took in what Chuck was saying. Casey crossed his arms, clearly unconvinced but at least acknowledging the point.
"Let me guess," Casey muttered, "you want to babysit the kid. Guide him along, keep him in check. So he doesn't accidentally end up building the next super weapon."
Chuck paused, biting his lip before responding. "Not exactly. But yeah, something like that. I think we need to let him do his thing. Let him continue to innovate. But we also need to make sure that nobody else can exploit him. He's a liability if left unchecked, but he could also be an incredible asset. It's a fine line."
Casey snorted. "Knowing this kid, he's probably already halfway to building a doomsday device without even trying."
Chuck's eyes widened, and he glanced at Sarah, who gave him an apologetic shrug. "Casey's not wrong," she said quietly.
Chuck let out a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood. "Great. Just what I needed to hear."
The silence stretched for another moment, and then Beckman's voice broke through. "Bartowski," she said, her tone serious. "I understand your concerns. But don't get too attached. Your mission remains unchanged. You're there to get the technology, understand it, and protect it from falling into the wrong hands. Not to befriend the kids."
Chuck sighed, rubbing his temples. "Understood, General. But... if he's not the one we need to worry about, what's the plan? What do we do when someone else notices what he's capable of?"
Beckman didn't answer right away, and Chuck had the distinct feeling that she already had an answer in mind. But she was waiting for him to figure it out. Just like always.
Finally, Beckman spoke. "We protect him, Bartowski, he is our only lead to the elusive Goldbloods, and we will NOT allow anything to happen to him. But you also stay on mission. Get the tech. Do not get distracted by whatever emotional attachment you may develop along the way."
All this while, they had no idea that Guldrin and Shiro were listening in on this conversation through a backdoor in their system thanks to all the bugs, and gadgets they so conveniently line their home with. One thing was for sure, if they didn't care before, now they did, and Chuck would be giving them answers in the future.
(Give me your POWER, Please, and Thank You! Leave reviews and comments, they motivate me to continue.)
New Vote; who should his mama be? Leave your ideas, she should be non-human, it is my only requirement. I have a few choices to suggest, but if you have more, feel free to add them and if they get enough likes, then it will be added to the pool. As of now, I have:
Overprotective dragon mama, (Tiamat, DxD version but looks like Fate)
Spider mama, with a penchant for eating, (Shiraori, So I'm a spider, so what?)
The literal mama sin of Gluttony, (Merlin, Seven Deadly Sins.)
The first Kenpachi, Deadly Sword mama who can heal as well as she kills, (Unohana, Bleach)
Litteral Ogre Demi-God, lighting mama with a son and daughter complex, (Minamoto-no-Raikou, FGO)
Thunder mama herself, ruler in every right, (Raiden Shogun, Genshin)
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone