A/N No research on NSA training techniques or anything else was done for the sake of this story. I watched some youtube videos on escrima techniques but that's it. If you're looking for realism, accuracy, and verisimilitude, watch Get Smart.


"Tell Chuck not to worry, I won't let it change me."

"No thanks. I'm good. And I'm gonna get better."

" Very married. Very happy."

"We know who you are, Mrs. Carmichael. That's why we're celebrating."


Morgan looked up and saw some goofball manhandling his best friend's best girl. Only girl, and you can't get any better than that. "Hey, hands off, Mac! Weren't you listening? The lady's taken."

The man gestured, and another goon materialized by Morgan's side, tranq gun in hand."So are you, Mr. Carmichael, so are you." The goon fired twice.

"Hey, that hu-uuh!" Morgan, never one to do anything gracefully, toppled from his stool, forcing the goon to catch him and distracting his boss. His boss still held Sarah's wrist, with less than eight inches of space between them when his eyes flicked once to look over her shoulder.

Sarah kicked him. In the nose.

He died.

He died with momentum, and Sarah used that momentum to pivot his dead weight around and slam it into his goon. The man went down under his leader's bulk, with Sarah following as her wrist was still held. Carina moved to grab Morgan as he continued to topple from his stool. Thus no one was entirely upright when a third Ring agent opened fire from the other end of the bar.

The bullets shattered the window, as people outside in very little clothing ran in panic from the sound of gunfire and the explosion of glass.


Chuck winced at the sudden loud noises in his headphones. "Someone call the General! They're in trouble!"


Something went crunch and the shooting stopped. "Hey, jackass! There could be kids out there!" Sarah heard a series of sharp strikes of wood against flesh, the sound of metal hitting the floor, and a man howling in pain. She looked up, to see a short Asian woman with two wooden rods in her hands dancing around the man with careful, precise footwork, landing blow after unanswered blow against his head, wrists, and elbows.

"Don't worry, ladies," she said with perfect calm. For a finale she hooked her opponent's head with the short end of her stick and ran it into the bar, dropping him like a stone. "I got this." She kept a fighting stance, but no new enemies came crawling out of the woodwork.

"Anna?"


Chucked stared at his blank screen. Anna? "Someone call the General. They're not in trouble."


Anna Wu turned. "Sarah? What are you doing here?"

"We came to visit, but then those men just came out of nowhere and attacked Morgan." She looked at the bartender, just starting to show his face above the bar. "You saw it, didn't you?"

The man nodded spasmodically.

Okay, one cover story set. "Why are all these men after him?"

"It's a long story." She bent to examine the other two men. "What happened to this one?"

"He defended us! It was amazing!" said Carina.

"Morgan did this?" Anna shook her head in dismay. "Right." She spotted the tranq pistol, and used it to take care of all of the targets who weren't already dead.

"What are you doing?" shrieked Sarah, playing her role.

"Don't worry, it's just knockout darts, they'll wake up in jail." She looked around. "Can you girls do me a favor, carry him while I clear a path to the back door?"

Like they had a choice.

Halfway to the back of the room they heard more gunfire from the front. Anna looked around, and spotted an abandoned knife at the chef's station next to her. She slammed on stick down on the tip of the blade, and the knife popped up into air. Swinging the other stick like a bat she sent the blade flying across the room to hit the incoming gunman. Not a killing blow, but effective.

"Huh. Didn't think that would work." She turned back to the rear of the room. "Move!"

Everyone moved. She kicked open the fire exit, adding an annoying screechy alarm to the hysteria of the day, in addition to knocking another agent by the back door over a railing with a broken nose. Anna used up the last of the darts on him, and took his gun.

"Into the car, ladies."

Sarah and Carina pretended to fumble.

"Watch it!"

"Sorry."

Once the drooling and newly-bruised chef-trainee was secured Anna hit the gas and sped off madly down the alley as her helpers buckled themselves in. "What was all that about?" Carina did a great fake-panic.

Anna looked nervously back and forth at her mirrors, checking for pursuit. "Sarah, I've got something to tell you, and it's going to sound crazy but you have to believe me."

Sarah looked understandably reluctant. "Okay?"

"I'm with the NSA."

"You're kidding."

"No I'm not kidding." Anna was practically screaming. "I've been a trainee for a couple of months now. I'm not even a full agent yet and I've been protecting Morgan for days from all these guys. I sent in an emergency code but no one's gotten back to me yet, so I'm just gonna go to my mentor's safehouse and try to figure out what to do. You have to come with me."

She turned to Sarah with wide eyes.

"Please don't tell Morgan."


"What do you mean she's one of mine?"

"Listen for yourself, General." Chuck started the playback.

"She's a goddamn trainee? Where's her mentor? Who's responsible over there? Tell Sarah to get me whatever she can from this girl, but do not, I repeat not, break cover. Get Colonel Casey."

As Chuck passed on the message General Beckman got on her own phones. Chuck could hear her in the background shouting dire military threats at someone if they didn't 'get their thumbs out' and get back to her ASA-goddamn-P.


Casey had just cut the cake when the phone in his pocket starting buzzing one continuous stream. Everyone heard it, everyone stopped. "The party's over, gentlemen."

"Isn't that typical?" said Showtunes.

"Here." Pebbles handed him a wrapped bundle as he was getting his coat. "Take some cake, at least. You earned it, Colonel." He stepped back, and they all saluted.

"Thank you, gentlemen. It's been a pleasure."

"Be here early tomorrow, will ya, Ladyfeelings? That toilet on three is giving us trouble again."

Ladyfeelings nodded. "You got it, boss."


"What is it, Eagle-Eye?"

"You remember An—uh, the…bearded troll's…girlfriend, don't you, Kaleidoscope? You recruited her, didn't you, after I told you not to."

Casey grunted. "Like I take orders from you, CIA. But to answer your question, no, I didn't recruit her. Why do you ask?"

"Because your 'typical Carmichael op' is apparently her work, NSA."

"No NSA agent would ever make the kind of scenes you did, Bar—"

"She's a trainee, she's alone, and now she's dragged Perfection and Stampede into the middle of her situation."

Chuck could hear Casey breathing heavily. "Well, at least she has an excuse, and now she has some competent backup, but don't tell Ca—uh…?"

"Stampede."

"Sounds about right. Don't tell her I said she was competent or I'll never hear the end of it. Who's her trainer?"

"North Star's trying to get that information now." Chuck raised the volume on Beckman's monitor.

"I've got a stopwatch and a .45."

Casey grunted, amused. "RHIP."

"Patching you through now."


Sarah looked through the doorway into the bedroom of the safe house. "You think he'll be alright? He didn't even move when we brought him in."

"That's tranqs for you."

"Will he be waking up soon?" With two darts in a relatively small body the answer should be a firm No.

Anna shrugged. "With Morgan, who can say? The way he drinks the grape soda and the Red Bull I'm surprised they knocked him out at all."

They retreated to the living room to sit and wind down, while Carina went to investigate the contents of the refrigerator.

"So…Anna…how long have you been with the government?" asked Sarah, a little hesitantly. "You weren't spying on me and Chuck at the Orange Orange, were you?"

"Ewww, gross! That was Jeff and Lester's thing, not mine. But come on, do you honestly think if I was working for the government I would have been caught dead in a Buy More?"

Sarah kept her eyes from looking at Carina, strangling in the kitchen. "Maybe…"

Carina spoke up. "Please, Sarah, even the government has more class than that."

"But I gotta tell you it's a lot more fun than sitting around watching Morgan practice flipping his damn shrimp day after day. At least it was until that guy came to his restaurant and caused all that fuss—"

"What guy?" asked Carina.

"That dictator guy!"

"Goya?" said Sarah.

"Yeah, him! We were shadowing him, my trainer and me, he said it was part of my training. When the shooting started he told me to stay in the car—"

"Did you?"

"Of course not, Morgan was in there!" Sarah and Carina both rolled their eyes. "I went in through the kitchen, because who's going to notice an Asian girl in the kitchen at a Benihana? And then I saw Morgan, struggling with the assassin—"

Sarah didn't have to fake her wide-eyed look. "Really?"

"Yeah, I know, right? I don't know what he thought he was doing, but I knew what the assassin was doing, so I did it first. I didn't know throwing knives was so easy!"

Sarah coughed.

"And since then it's been one guy after another. Who wants Goya dead so bad they'll go after a hibachi chef for being a hero?"


"That's a good question," said Casey. "It's not just Grimes. We're forgetting about Goya."


Sarah loved it when her job gave her the opportunity to be honest. "It sounds to me like it's you who's the hero here, Anna."

"Thanks, but you can't tell anyone that, okay. Especially Morgan. You know how men are."

Carina laughed out loud. "Oh, yeah, I know how men are."

"Then I feel sorry for the both of you," said Sarah.


Chuck smiled.

"You're smiling, aren't you, Eagle-Eye? I can hear you smiling. Cut it out."


Morgan's voice suddenly rose in a shriek, "Anna! I'm dying, Anna, they shot me!"

The three ladies ran to take positions around the bed. "Morgan! I'm here, Morgan, you're not dead. It was just a dream."

Morgan turned his face toward her voice, eyes blinking. "It was a nightmare!" he croaked. "I dreamed I was shot and I was dying and then I was in—" he looked around, Anna before him, Sarah and Carina, still in their bikinis, on either side, all of them with looks of concern on their faces "—Heaven."


"Have you sent a team to extract them, General?"

Beckman sighed. "No, Chuck, I'm afraid it's too late for that."

Chuck's face fell. "Wh-wha-what? But…we were just listening to them…"

"I was too late to send the order, Chuck. An extraction order for Agent Wu and Mr. Grimes was already sent, although I was able to add our agents' names to the list."

"Is this extraction order legitimate?" asked Casey. "Who else would be trying to get them, General?"

Beckman growled. Now Chuck knew where Casey learned it from. "Mr. Grimes is wanted here in Washington, so that Premier Goya can give him a medal."


A/N2 The story does not end here! Stay tuned for the next vibrant and exciting episode of nine2five, Morgan's Angels! Can Washington endure?