Sarah vs The Bunker

A/N -- I realize I'm starting in an odd place. I'll probably flash back from here to fill in some of the huge blanks. No Beta as of yet.

CHAPTER I - Escape

Sarah woke up in a hospital bed, still muddled from whatever it was they'd injected her with. She glanced down, reaching to pat her belly. But her hand was strapped to the bed, and she saw in horror, her belly was flat again, or flattish anyway. Lisa was gone. Her mind went straight to the worst possible scenario. She'd had a miscarriage. Oh god... where was Chuck, why wasn't he here with her for this, what was— Memory rushed back and her eyes shut in rage and horror. No miscarriage, but nearly as bad. The NSA had found them.

She supposed she should be happy they had let her deliver naturally, instead of forcing a C-section on her, ripping her child out of her in the sake of expedience. Especially given the complications she'd suffered to her pregnancy those last few months. Sarah glanced around the room. Other than the leather restraints, her room could have been in any hospital in the country. Her memories were still a little muddy from the sedatives, and her epidural certainly hadn't helped, but it hadn't been a very long drive in the back of the NSA van that had come for her, so. Probably this was Cottonwood Medical Center, where she'd planned to deliver in the first place, plus some NSA goons Beckman could trust to follow orders and not ask questions.

Sarah's return to consciousness had spurred her nurse to inform the black suited NSA agent. He entered, hands at his side. "Agent Walker." He said simply. "We need to know what happened before we can determine your status."

Sarah grunted. "It'll have to wait. Go get the nurse, or you can hold the bedpan while I poop."

The NSA agent took off his sunglasses and fixed her with a glare reminiscent of Casey, but she shrugged and waggled her arms in her restraints. "It's not like I'm going anywhere." The NSA agent looked at her, scrutinizing her eyes for any hint of duplicity. As soon as the door shut behind him, Sarah scooted down the bed to get at her wrist restraints with her teeth. She winced in pain at the movement, her flesh bruised and tender from labor, but not torn, she hoped. That would just complicate matters even more. It took some doing, but she had just managed to free one of her wrists, when she heard the door. Sarah tugged the strap back together, hiding her hand in the folds of her blanket. The NSA agent stayed in the hall, shutting the door behind the nurse.

"The guard said you need the bedpan.?" Sarah nodded. "Okay, just scooch your butt up a little and..." Sarah's hand darted free of the restraints on the side furthest from the door, snatching the Nurse onto the bed by the hair and then snaking around the woman's neck. It wasn't a perfect choke because she only had one hand free.

"Don't say a goddamn word." She hissed. "I won't hurt you. I just want to take my daughter and go."

"Please, I didn't do anything."

"That's why you get to live." She said. "Undo my other hand."
The nurse hesitated, obviously going into shock.

"Undo my other hand. I can't put you in a sleeper hold one handed, but I can break your neck one handed, and I really don't want to do that."

Her hands shaking, the nurse undid Sarah's other hand. Sarah's newly freed hand came up, locking in across the nurse's jugular on the other side. She held it for a count of six, just enough that the interruption of blood flow would render her unconscious and cause her short term memory to go on vacation. The nurse wouldn't remember a thing.

But just to be safe, she gagged the Nurse and tied her hands behind her back with a strip torn from her bed sheet.

With the Nurse's scrubs and ID, she just had to neutralize the NSA team, but she had no idea how many men there were. At least four. Beckman would have to be insane to have left only two, or maybe not.

God where was all that blood coming from. Her left hand was covered in... Sarah took hold of herself, tore another strip off the sheet and wrapped her arm, staunching the flow for a moment while she figured it out. IV must have come loose in the struggle with the nurse.

Then there was a knock on the door. "How long does it take to crap anyway." The NSA man said through the door. "In fifteen seconds I'm coming in." Sarah rolled her eyes and grabbed the bedpan before ducking to the side of the door. Right at her count of fifteen the door started to open. Sarah grabbed the wrist holding the doorknob and hauled the agent into the room.

She was a little clumsy on her feet, and she missed the nerve cluster her first punch was aiming for. The NSA grunt's head snapped back and he tried to shove her, reaching for his gun. Sarah backhanded him across the face, the bedpan ringing its song of metal against bone. He went down, and Sarah briskly searched his pockets. His weapon was a standard 9mm, suppressed, she was thankful to see, but hopefully she wouldn't have to shoot anyone in a hospital.

"Hey, Neil? You see-- oh shit!" The man barked, still with his hand on the door, eyes as wide as they would go. Sarah had the first man's gun in her hand, giving her the drop on the second agent.

"Freeze." She growled. "Make one fucking move and I'll shoot."

"Bullshit." He reached for his gun, and Sarah squeezed off two quick rounds. Her aim wasn't great, but the range was point blank. Now that she was up and moving, she was exhausted and she hurt everywhere. The pain meds must have been wearing off. The first bullet took the agent in the meat of his calf, but the second obviously shattered him fibia. He screamed, a high pitched wail that sounded like Chuck when he was scared. Sarah shoved the extraneous thought out of her head and kicked away the gun the agent had only half managed to draw. With a deft spin, she clocked him in the head with the pistol butt, and his wailing cut off. Hopefully it wouldn't draw the other two men of the team, or more if Beckman had been particularly paranoid.

She risked poking her head out into the hall, glanced both ways, but still couldn't make out the NSA team. Usually the bad suits set them apart, but if there were another pair of agents on watch they were better disguised than Sarah was ready for.

Ducking back into her hospital room, Sarah dragged the two unconscious men around to the side of the bed away from the door and tore the bedsheets up completely to tie the NSA agents relatively securely. She knuckled her back, and stifled a groan, shook her head and pulled herself back to her feet. Then she took a look at the man she had shot, straightened the break in his leg from her second shot and tied the leftovers of the sheet around his leg. Better than nothing, but the man wouldn't be running marathons anytime soon.

Sarah tucked the first agent's gun into the waistband of her scrubs, and bounced the second on her palm for a moment. Finally she figured better safe than sorry, and she ejected the clip. It was a 9mm, same model beretta as the first gun. It always helped to have a spare. She worked the action of the second pistol once, but her reflexes were still a little watery from the meds, and she missed catching it out of the air. When she bent to retrieve it, her head spun and she staggered into the side of the bed, startling the nurse awake.

Sarah waved the empty gun in the nurse's face and the woman's eyes rolled up and she fainted dead away. It was a relief in a lot of ways. Sarah stuffed the empty gun under the mattress and thumbed the extra round into her spare clip. She stuck the spare clip into the waistband at the side and started for the door. She took her chart, so she could look official, and walked out of her room as if she had every right to. The nurse's shoes were a bit too small, and her feet hurt as she walked out -- but then why should they be any different from the rest of her--other than that, the operation was going well.

No one bothered her when she took a pack of butterfly bandages and gauze from a supply cart. Thankfully the elevator was empty, and she took the time to apply the butterflies to the tear she'd put in her arm and re-wrap the wound tight with gauze. The bedsheet would have eventually drawn attention. She just finished taping the new bandage in place, when the doors opened to the maternity ward. Sarah had been to the hospital here in Cottonwood so often over the past eight months, that finding maternity was child's play. She grinned a little at that, it sounded like something Chuck would say.

Sarah scoped the lobby for NSA agents and wasn't disappointed. There were three that she made almost immediately, with the fourth in a better cut of suit talking to what looked like the head nurse. Sarah made her way over to them, a plan forming in her mind. Not a great plan, but it should work if the NSA team didn't notice her right away.

The head nurse glanced at her as she approached, but didn't seem to notice she didn't work at the hospital immediately.

Sarah was all of two steps away when the woman did a double take, but by then, Sarah was reaching for her beretta. "Don't move, don't say a word, NSA."

"Who the hell are you?" The head nurse asked. The NSA agent moved, tried to spin and take the gun out of line. Sarah pulled back just enough and put a round in the back of his knee. The agent screamed and fell oddly, kind of pirohuetting downward along the axis of his original motion, blood pooling under him.

"Depends who you ask." Sarah said, putting her foot on the agent's hand that was still going for his gun. Then there were screaming nurses everywhere and shouting and confusion, and the other three NSA goons were running over, guns out. Sarah knelt down, put her knee in the NSA agent's throat.

"Drop the gun, Walker!"

Sarah glared at them and put the tip of the beretta's suppressor right in the downed agent's eye. "I'll do it. Drop the guns, kick them over to me."

"You kill him, then what? We kill you."

"Yeah right. You're going to open up on me in the maternity ward?" Sarah said. "Even one of your bullets over-penetrates, there's fifty newborns through that glass behind me. Only thing behind you is an elevator shaft. You're not going to shoot, so just kick the guns over here and get it over with."

The agents glanced at each other for a brief moment, weighing the odds. And then they did as she asked. Sarah grabbed a second gun to train on the three men with their hands up. "You, head nurse." Sarah barked. "Go in there and get my daughter."

"What... what's her name?"
"Lisa." She said.

"What last name?"

Sarah glared at the NSA team, and pressed the hot tip of the suppressor harder into her captive. "What name'd you put her under, NSA?"

"I'm not telling you shit, Walker."

"It's Bartowski." Sarah said, finger a hairsbreadth from putting a bullet through the idiot's head. She shifted aim, and shot him in the hand instead. He screamed in pain. "What name!"

"Florence. Florence Beckman."

She grated her teeth a little at that revelation. "You heard the man. Go get me my daughter."

Sarah put more pressure on the captive NSA agent's throat to keep him down while she leaned over and scooped up the other guns. It was awkward, and Sarah risked the two steps to dump them in a nearby trash can, taking the bag out and slinging it over her shoulder. Then she motioned the NSA team to move with her two guns and stood.

"Into the supply closet."

Once she had them inside, Sarah broke the doorknob off with the butt of her pistol and dragged a nearby bench over across the door. Should hold them for a while at least. The head nurse waved and Sarah walked back over to take Lisa. She tucked one of her guns in the small of her back, and she felt a swell of pride as she saw her daughter for the first time. It lasted all of two seconds, before she heard the telltale snick of a safety being undone, of a round being chambered. And she had her daughter in her arms. She barely knew how to hold a baby properly, lessons with Chuck notwithstanding.

But her CIA instincts kicked in before her maternal instincts could tell her how stupid, how reckless it was. Sarah shoulder blocked the head nurse out of the line of fire, cradling Lisa in her right arm, head supported properly with her hand. She spun into a seated firing position, left arm extending as she fell. The bark of the pistol going off shattered the tense air of the maternity ward. The bullet stitched a line of red across her upper arm, a graze but still bleeding badly. Her aim would be hindered, if she had to do much shooting, but she had already squeezed off her first shot. Sarah's bullet took the NSA agent in the meat of his arm, and there was a crackling sound that accompanied the impact. He dropped the gun and collapsed in pain.

Blood trickling down her arm again, Sarah checked Lisa first thing. She was crying, but unhurt. Sarah imagined crying in this situation was a healthy baby sign, if the chorus of cries from the nursery room was any indication. Sarah awkwardly got back to her feet and stalked over to the NSA agent.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!" She screamed at him, foot pinning the man's wounded arm to the linoleum. "You shot at me while I had my baby!" The gun quivered as blood dripped down her wrist. She quivered with rage, fighting not to end this asshole's miserable life. A brief mental image of Chuck frowning in worry, in disappointment, and she squeezed the trigger twice, putting a bullet into the linoleum three inches to either side of the maimed agent's head. "Tell Beckman, the next team she sends better bring bodybags. I'm through playing nice." And then she kicked him in the face.

Sarah scooped up the bag of guns and trash and took off with Lisa curled up in the crook of her arm. Hospital security was running in the direction of the firefight when she slipped into the stairwell. Cooing softly at Lisa, Sarah managed to get the crying down to low sobs. It made sneaking a challenge, but She was going to do this. She went up one floor, instead of down, to the Surgical floor, grabbed another roll of gauze off a supply cart. Then she put her pistol into the back of the first doctor she found alone. "Give me your access card."

"I can't do that."

Sarah rolled her eyes and clouted him in the back of the neck with her pistol. She didn't have time for misguided heroics. With the access card, Sarah opened the secure express elevator, heading down to the ER.

During the elevator ride, Sarah continued making soothing noises and rocking Lisa gently. It seemed to work just like Chuck and the doctors had said it would. Sarah grinned at the little bundle in her arms. It was so amazing, this thing they'd made together. She knew if she lost Lisa none of it would matter. Sarah shuddered, remembering the feeling that had coursed through her when she heard the click of a gun being readied behind her. She shouldn't have turned, gone for it like that. Captivity and knowing Lisa was alive was better than the risk she'd run. What if the man had been a better shot, had been faster. Had put a bullet through her chest, or worse, through her daughter, instead of just the grazed arm. And that wasn't bad enough? The bullet had passed through space not six inches from her daughter's head. That could never happen again. Her arm stung, but it was small price to pay for her daughter's safety. Which reminded her. She shifted Lisa to her left arm despite the pain and wiped away as much of the blood as she could with her free arm. Sarah wrapped gauze tightly around her second wound, taking longer to be sure she didn't jostle the baby, who appeared somehow to have gone back to sleep. Sarah winced and smiled at the same time. The doors opened and Sarah stowed her gun in the trashbag with all the others. She walked briskly for the exit. Luckily she spotted the lone security guard on her exit before the elderly black man noticed her.

Ducking behind a pillar, she managed to get behind him. "Stay calm. That's a gun pressed against your kidney. This is a hospital, you probably wouldn't bleed to death if I shot you, but I'm sure you're not willing to take the chance for fifteen dollars an hour."

"Thirteen fifty."

Sarah paused for a moment. "Take out your gun with two fingers. Good. Hold it up to your left side. Sarah risked taking the gun away from the man's back, snatched his revolver, and stashed it in the bag with all the others before putting the suppressed beretta back into the guard's kidney.

"Count backwards from fifty." She grated. At forty six, she knocked him out with the butt of the gun and slipped out into the parking lot.

Her head was still swimming a little bit, but it wasn't any worse than it had been when she woke up. She didn't think so anyway. Sarah scanned the parking lot. The NSA team would be freeing itself soon, she had to get as far away as possible before she collapsed. And she was going to collapse. Adrenaline had brought her this far, but she knew it was only a matter of time at this point. Carrying Lisa like she was just made it harder. She needed a car, or a taxi or something. But she didn't have any money, and she'd have to call one. Sarah glanced around, looking for something. Her eyes fell on the nurse's id, still slung around her neck.

It was an odd thing, a kind of plastic box, not an ID sleeve. Sarah slipped the beretta back into the waistband of her scrubs and hitched the bag of guns up more securely, tied it loosely around her arm. As she walked briskly down the street, she rifled through the ID and other things inside one handed. She found a credit card, and scanned the street again. Half a block away, a small bus built like an airport shuttle was pulling in. Sarah walked faster, refusing to jog and risk waking up Lisa. She just managed to slip through the doors as they were closing.

"Where does this bus go?" She asked.

"Wal-mart, then the methodist church, then the assisted living center." The driver said. Sarah scanned the seats. About half were filled, with silver haired men and women in shorts and floppy brimmed hats and the other assorted 'old people' clothes that half the town seemed to be issued when they moved in. So much for inconspicuous.

Sarah sat down, despite her misgivings, and waited for someone to yell at her for not being old enough, or religious enough, to ride this bus. The drive to Wal-mart took only a few minutes, but Sarah had to endure a dozen questions from little old ladies, about her baby, about the bandages, the blood she hadn't quite managed to wash off. She hoped her story had been good enough, even as they pulled up out front, she couldn't remember what she had told them.

Sarah power-walked into the Wal-mart. Thankfully only one old lady got out for shopping, and Sarah ducked into the ladies room, using the stall to avoid talking to her. She breathed an immense sigh of relief and clutched Lisa in both arms and wept briefly, rocking back and forth and quietly, finally, freaking out.