The overhead lights in the Carmichael Industries briefing room hummed with a steady white noise that made the tension feel heavier than it should. Sarah sat at the far end of the glass table, posture straight, tablet open but untouched. Casey stood against the wall with his arms crossed, chewing on a toothpick like it had personally offended him.
Chuck walked in with a hopeful smile and a mug that read World's Okayest Spy.
"Good morning, team."
Silence.
"So…" Chuck tried again, "…how's everyone feeling after the Orpheus mission?"
Sarah didn't look up. "Fine."
Casey grunted. "Could've been cleaner."
Chuck blinked. "Cleaner? We stopped a weapons broker and escaped by swinging off a rooftop."
"Exactly," Casey said. "Should've ended before the rooftop."
Sarah glared. "We got the job done, Casey."
"Yeah," he shot back, "but maybe next time don't turn a ballroom into a war zone."
"Maybe next time," Sarah snapped, "you could be inside the building instead of sitting outside calling yourself backup."
Casey smirked. "Backup is supposed to be outside. It's in the title."
Chuck raised both hands like a referee. "Okay, timeout! We're not doing this. We're a team now — not three solo acts sharing comms."
Casey muttered, "Tell that to the CIA princess."
Sarah's jaw tightened. "At least I follow orders."
Chuck clapped his hands together, loud. "ENOUGH!"
That, finally, got silence.
Later – Operations Floor
An hour later, Chuck stood overlooking the analysts below — a buzzing hive of keystrokes, data streams, and brilliant minds who never knew how dangerous their bosses' lives were.
Sarah approached quietly. "You wanted to see me?"
Chuck nodded. "Yeah. Look, I know Casey rubs you the wrong way. He rubs everyone the wrong way. But he's good. One of the best."
"That doesn't make him trustworthy," she murmured.
"You don't have to trust him yet." Chuck gave her a small smile. "Just trust me."
Her eyes softened. "Okay. But if he compromises a mission—"
"He won't," Chuck assured. "Because I won't let him."
Weapons Range
Gunshots echoed through the concrete. Casey reloaded with the calm of a man assembling furniture.
"You know," Chuck said, "most people go to therapy for stress."
Casey didn't look up. "Talking doesn't fix problems. Shooting them does."
Chuck leaned on the wall. "Right, but shooting your teammates is frowned upon."
Casey finally sighed. "Walker doesn't like my style. I don't like hers. We'll manage."
Chuck shook his head. "No. You need to do better than 'manage.' We succeed as a team or fail as a team."
Casey eyed him. "You're getting bossy, Bartowski."
Chuck shrugged. "Comes with being the guy who has a government supercomputer in his head."
Later – Chuck's Office
The city lights glowed against the glass walls. Chuck rubbed his eyes, finally letting a moment of stillness settle in — until the secure line rang.
He pressed speaker.
"Carmichael."
General Beckman appeared on-screen, sharp as ever. Director Graham joined beside her.
"Agent Carmichael," Beckman said. "Listen carefully."
Graham added, "We're here to brief you on the next development: the Intersect 2.0."
Chuck straightened. "Intersect… 2.0?"
"Full system upgrade," Graham said. "Enhanced memory, advanced combat integration, tactical reflex amplification. Stronger, faster, smarter."
Beckman added, "It will be ready in the next few months."
Chuck swallowed. "So… I'm getting a sequel?"
Casey's voice drifted from the doorway. "Congrats, Bartowski. You're becoming Windows 2.0."
Chuck waved him off.
Beckman's tone hardened. "In the meantime, you must maintain your cover. You run a think tank. A real-looking one. Produce something the public can see. Something credible."
Graham leaned forward. "You're a think tank, Chuck. So think."
The line went dead.
Carmichael Industries – Operations Floor
Chuck paced. "Beckman wants a believable think-tank project. Something real enough to fool the IRS, the public, even Ellie."
Casey shrugged. "Write a paper about coffee."
Sarah smiled softly. "Chuck… you can build anything. Make something that looks real."
Chuck frowned at the whiteboard.
Then something clicked.
"What if…" he murmured, "our think tank researches sustainable energy? Something futuristic, clean, believable…"
He began sketching rapidly — circles, rings, power flow diagrams.
Casey squinted. "Why does that look like the arc reactor from Iron Man?"
Chuck froze. "…because it kind of is."
Sarah exhaled. "Chuck…"
"No, no — listen!" Chuck grabbed another marker. "It looks fictional, but mathematically? It's possible. Palladium's unstable, vibranium doesn't exist — but what if I make a new alloy?"
Casey raised an eyebrow. "Make a metal."
Chuck smiled wildly. "Yes. A metal that stabilizes energy instead of fighting it. Self-regulating. Self-balancing."
He scribbled faster. Atomic structures formed across the board.
"I'm calling it… Stabilium."
Casey deadpanned, "You're naming it already."
"It's a working title!"
Sarah stepped closer, eyes widening. "Chuck… are you saying this could actually work?"
Chuck stepped back from the board. "In theory? Yes."
Mathematical Analysis Department
"Director Bartowski," Dr. Porter said, confused. "You want us to verify this?"
"Just the math," Chuck said. "Don't freak out."
The mathematicians dove in — scribbling, calculating, cross-checking. After minutes of tense silence, Porter lifted his head, stunned.
"…It's correct," he whispered. "The alloy would stabilize energy. It's insane — but mathematically sound."
Sarah smiled proudly.
Casey muttered, "Great. He solved comic-book science."
Chuck grinned. "So we make it."
Porter blinked. "How?"
Chuck pointed downward.
"We have a particle accelerator."
Lower Research Wing
The massive circular machine hummed as Chuck approached the control console.
Sarah stared. "Why does a think tank have a particle accelerator?"
Chuck shrugged. "Government surplus."
Casey muttered, "One day, I want normal coworkers."
Porter placed raw elements into the chamber. "This will fuse the materials at star-level pressure and heat. If your alloy works, this will create the first sample."
Chuck nodded. "Begin."
The accelerator roared to life — glowing blue, energy swirling, resonating with the pattern Chuck designed.
The hum steadied.
Porter gasped. "Stability at ninety-nine percent. Containment perfect."
Chuck exhaled, smiling. "We did it."
Casey shook his head. "You're out of your mind. But somehow… it worked."
Chuck patted the machine. "Welcome to the future."
Chuck's Office – Final Call
Chuck opened a secure line. "Patch me through to Beckman and Graham."
Their faces appeared.
"General, Director — I'm ready with the think tank cover."
He pulled up the hologram of the simplified arc reactor.
"It's called the Carmichael Clean Energy Initiative. On paper, we're researching a new clean power alloy: Stabilium. It explains our labs, secrecy, and funding."
Beckman narrowed her eyes. "Is the alloy real?"
Chuck hesitated.
"It's theoretical."
Casey coughed loudly. "Define theoretical."
Sarah jumped in smoothly. "The math checks out, General. It's a believable cover."
Graham nodded. "This works. Good job, Chuck."
Beckman glared. "Do NOT divert resources to make this real."
Chuck smiled innocently. "Of course not."
The feed cut.
Operations Floor
"So?" Sarah asked.
Chuck exhaled. "We've got our cover."
Casey crossed his arms. "You didn't tell them you actually built the thing."
Chuck shrugged. "They said it had to look real."
Sarah smirked. "You made the lie true."
Chuck looked out at the city lights.
"Maybe that's how you make a cover believable — make it the truth first."
Casey muttered, "Or maybe you're nuts."
Chuck grinned.
"Little bit of both."