Chapter 73: Acting, Two More Bodies, Invitation From General Beckman.

Approaching with a tear-streaked face, Guldrin looked at Mauser with fear and hesitation, "Ex- Excuse me... sir?" Guldrin's voice cracked with a barely contained sob, pulling Mauser's attention away from Chuck.

Mauser turned, his sharp gaze narrowing as he took in the trembling boy in front of him. For a moment, Guldrin saw something flicker in Mauser's eyes, a momentary softening, the barest hint of doubt. But that was all it took. Guldrin had read people like Mauser before. He knew how to manipulate a situation like this.

Even if the softness in his eyes wasn't real, it was enough to use against him. To act, one must on a certain level, believe their own lie, embrace it, and if Mauser was as good as he appeared, then he would show empathy that bordered on real. This would be what Guldrin used against him,

The lieutenant's expression shifted, the hard edge of his demeanor softening just enough to become a rehearsed kindness, a mask of empathy that was almost too practiced. "What is it, son?" Mauser asked, bending slightly to meet Guldrin's eye level.

Guldrin sniffled, letting a tear roll down his cheek as he looked up at Mauser with wide, frightened eyes. "I... I'm scared," he whispered, his voice quivering with the rawness of the lie. "There's a man with a gun... I don't know where my mom is. You're a cop, right? Will you keep us safe? I am so scared..."

Mauser straightened, clearly pleased by the display; it validated his acting, "Of course, kid," he said, his voice full of false reassurance. "That's what I'm here for. You don't have to worry about a thing. I'm talking with the bad man, and we'll get you home to your mother after everything is over."

Guldrin's lip trembled, and he reached out hesitantly, giving Mauser the image of a terrified child desperate for comfort. "Can I... Can I have a hug? Please? I just want to feel safe." The tension in the room almost drowned out his voice, but he pushed through it. This was the last card he had to play, if it didn't work, he just had to abandon all pretense as a last resort.

Mauser hesitated for a fraction of a second. The suspicion flickered in his eyes, but it was quickly suppressed by his need to maintain control of the situation. After all, who would suspect a child of deception, let alone being able to endanger him, a trained Fulcrum superior?

With a begrudging sigh, Mauser opened his arms, his expression softening just enough to appear genuine. "Sure, kid. Come here. But in the future, you need to be strong. A teenager should be strong. He can't show weakness like this."

Guldrin nodded as he allowed himself to step into Mauser's arms, the warmth of his embrace feeling like the calm before the storm. But beneath his outward vulnerability, his mind was working quickly, calculating his next move. 

This was the moment, the perfect opportunity to strike.

Guldrin's mind raced as he stepped into Mauser's embrace, his heart pounding with adrenaline, yet his outward appearance was one of vulnerability. He tucked his face into Mauser's chest, allowing the warmth of the moment to lull the man into a false sense of security. It was the perfect setup. Guldrin's hands trembled just slightly, but it wasn't from fear… No, this was an act. 

Every motion, every detail, every breath he took was calculated. His fingers, hidden from view, slipped deftly behind his back, feeling the cold steel of the fishing knife nestled in the waistband of his pants.

The tears, however, were real. The boy's voice trembled as he sobbed into Mauser's chest. "Thank you... for protecting us," he murmured, his voice muffled by the fabric of the lieutenant's uniform. Mauser, caught off guard by the display of emotion, didn't see the knife coming. 

In one swift, fluid motion, Guldrin pulled the blade from its hidden holster, the edge gleaming for just a second before it plunged deep into Mauser's throat. The shock of the action, followed by the electric discharge, registered a split second too late. Mauser's body jerked violently, his hands instinctively trying to clutch his neck, but it was futile, the electricity made his body seize and lock up. Blood gushed from the wound in hot, thick torrents, splattering across Guldrin's hand and Mauser's uniform. The man's mouth opened in a final, desperate gasp, but no sound emerged. 

A muffled scream, stifled forever by the precise strike.

Guldrin stepped back, immediately distancing himself from the dying man as his body hit the ground. The lieutenant's wide, disbelieving eyes met Guldrin's for a brief moment, before the light drained from them entirely. 

The boy used the collapsing body as a shield, crouching low, making sure to keep Mauser between him and the rest of the store. As the man's body twitched in its death throes, Guldrin methodically wiped the bloodied blade clean on the back of Mauser's uniform, his movements quick and purposeful. The knife was sheathed back into its holster before anyone else could react.

Chuck, who had just returned from saying his goodbyes to Devon and Elle, had entered the scene too late to stop what was already in motion. He stood frozen in place, his eyes wide with horror, his mouth hanging open as his mind tried to process what had just happened. The shock hit him like a tidal wave, but his body refused to move, paralyzed by disbelief.

But Guldrin didn't have time for Chuck's shock, if anything, Chuck's shock would help sell the next part. His focus had already shifted. 

The next step was taking out Ned before the man realized what had just happened. His mind worked quickly, the strategy forming almost instinctively. Rising to his feet, he called out in a voice that was filled with panic, yet entirely rehearsed. 

"Mister! Mister! Something's wrong with the policeman!" The sound of Guldrin's frantic cry reached Ned's ears, drawing the man's attention. The fake hostage taker, Fulcrum agent's brow furrowed in confusion as he glanced toward Mauser's crumpled body. His hand instinctively moved toward the pistol hidden inside his waistband, but Guldrin was already moving.

His steps were hurried, his face flushed with fake terror, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Please help him! He just fell! Is he sick?" Guldrin's voice cracked on the last word, his tone desperate, almost pleading. 

He was playing the role of the scared teenager to perfection, milking it for every ounce of sympathy he could squeeze out. And, of course, Ned fell for it, hook, line, and sinker. His gaze softened, and for a brief moment, Guldrin saw the flicker of trust in the older man's eyes. 

All this hinged on the fact that Ned wasn't who he said he was, and that Mauser was his boss, someone he couldn't allow to die, or else the plan would fall apart.

Ned bent down, making his way toward Mauser's prone body. Guldrin's heart raced as the man leaned in to inspect the lieutenant, his hands reaching for Mauser's pulse. 

That was the moment. Guldrin wasted no time. He surged forward, the knife slipping from its holster with ease. The blade went into the side of Ned's neck before the man could even react. There was no hesitation, just a clean, precise cut, the blade severing the carotid artery and sending blood spurting out in an arterial spray. 

The stun function activated as the knife twisted, sending a jolt of electric shock through the man's body.

Ned gasped in shock, his hand tightening around his pistol. But it was too late. He dropped to his knees, his breath becoming shallow as he struggled to keep himself upright. Guldrin twisted the blade once more, ensuring the job was done. 

The man's body collapsed, crumpling in slow motion, and then fell to the floor with a thud. Guldrin caught him before he could make a noise, lowering him carefully to the ground. His movements were methodical, and calm, even though the adrenaline was coursing through his veins. He wiped the blade clean once more and slid it back into its holster.

"Chuck," Guldrin hissed, his voice low and urgent. He wasn't done yet. "Get it together. We're not out of this yet."

Chuck stood frozen, still processing the brutal efficiency of what he had just witnessed; it was something he could have expected from Casey, not the boy who, just yesterday Chuck was telling the General, was not a threat. 

His breath came in ragged gasps as he struggled to find his voice. "You... you killed them," he whispered, his words barely audible. His knees were weak, and he braced himself against the Nerd Herd counter, his whole body shaking. 

This couldn't be real. This was a nightmare, some twisted, surreal nightmare that he couldn't wake up from. The horror of it settled deep in his chest, crushing him with the weight of reality.

Guldrin's voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. "Yes, I did." The words were cold, calculated, like they had been spoken a thousand times before. "If I hadn't, you would've been taken. And everyone would've been killed to cover it up. Plus, you're my key to getting a meeting with General Beckman, who knows about my family. When Sarah and Casey come in, tell them the truth. I'll be waiting in the break room. I assume within the next five minutes, the cavalry will storm the building to save you and everyone else."

There was no time to linger. Guldrin didn't wait for Chuck to process everything. He gestured for Shiro to follow him as he moved toward the break room. The door closed quietly behind them, the sounds of the store's chaos now muffled by the walls. Inside, the two of them sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the situation pressing down on them. But Guldrin's mind was already working again, already focused on the next move. They weren't out of the woods yet.

Outside, Chuck was left to grapple with the shock, the horror, the overwhelming confusion of what had just occurred. He stood there for what felt like hours, staring at the bodies of Mauser and Ned, their lifeless forms sprawled across the floor. 

The world around him seemed to warp and twist, like he was stuck in a fog, unable to focus on anything except the nightmare playing out before his eyes. His body felt like it was betraying him. Every nerve screamed at him to do something, anything. But his legs were frozen, his mouth dry, and his brain had short-circuited. His thoughts scattered in a thousand directions, but none of them made sense.

"I- I can't," Chuck muttered under his breath, his voice shaking. He sank to his knees, his head dropping into his hands. The weight of what he had just witnessed was suffocating. He had watched a child, no, a boy who couldn't have been older than fifteen, cut down two grown men without hesitation, without remorse. 

There was no emotion in Guldrin's actions, no hesitation. It was cold, it was clinical. It was something Chuck had only ever seen in movies or read about in spy thrillers. But now it was real. Now it was happening in front of him.

But as his mind spiraled, Guldrin's words echoed in his head. 'Get it together.' Chuck had to pull himself together. This wasn't the time for weakness. Not when people's lives were at stake, not when his own life hung in the balance.

With a deep breath, Chuck forced himself to his feet. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, his mind still reeling but forcing itself to focus. He had to tell Sarah and Casey. He had to tell them the truth when they barged inside to save everyone.

Morgan poked his head around the corner, his eyes widening in disbelief. "Chuck? Dude, what's going on? Why does it smell like..." His voice trailed off as his gaze fell upon the grisly scene unfolding before him. 

"Oh no. No, no, no, no." Morgan's arms flailed around as if trying to ward off the reality of what he was seeing. "This is bad. This is so bad. I'm allergic to bad!" He took an awkward step back, almost stumbling over a pile of misplaced inventory, hands raised awkwardly in surrender, but no one was coming to save him from the situation.

Chuck, still shaking from the adrenaline and horror of the past few minutes, whirled on his best friend. His fingers clenched into tight fists as he grabbed Morgan by the shoulders, his eyes wide with panic. 

"Morgan, listen to me! Stay calm. Just... just stay calm!" Chuck's voice pitched higher with every frantic word, as if he were trying to convince himself as much as his friend. "Okay, bad things happened, but it's under control. Kind of. Sort of. Not really. Oh God, I need a paper bag."

Morgan blinked at him, blinking rapidly, as if Chuck had suddenly grown a new head. "Control? Chuck, there are dead guys in the Buy More!" He gestured wildly at the bodies sprawled on the floor in a grotesque display. "This is, like, 'cops surround the building, and we get tased into oblivion' bad! Well… There are already cops outside, so… maybe this is good? No, no, no. This is still so very, very bad," 

Morgan's face contorted as he clutched his stomach, his words dissolving into a series of sickly noises before he started to throw up in a perfectly executed projectile arc onto the floor. The mess seemed to punctuate the sheer chaos unfolding in the store.

Chuck opened his mouth to respond, but he stopped short when the faint rumble of engines reached his ears. His heart did a brief skip of relief. Oh, thank God. The cavalry was here.

"Great," Chuck muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Why did this have to happen? Why did Guldrin have to get involved?"

Morgan's eyes bugged out, the sheer shock from earlier fading into confusion. "Guldrin? You mean, that kid who keeps glaring at everyone like he's plotting world domination, all while building crazy gadgets and making things blow up? What does he have to do with this?" His face twisted into a mixture of bewilderment and horror. World domination? Why not just a Tuesday? Couldn't they just have their pointless days at Buy More back?

Chuck, his voice dropping to a hush as though he feared the walls might be listening, glanced toward the break room. "He... might have saved my life. And maybe everyone else's. But also," He mumbled so low that Morgan had to lean in to catch the words, "I don't really know how to feel about him right now."

Before Morgan could process Chuck's confession, the doors to the Buy More suddenly burst open with a force that could have been straight out of a movie. In stormed the SWAT team, along with Sarah and Casey, disguised to keep their cover intact, guns drawn, eyes scanning the room with practiced precision. 

They were a blur of movement and authority, taking control of the situation with the efficiency of well-oiled machines. Employees screamed and scattered, their hearts pounding as they dove behind shelves, counters, and anything they could find for cover.

Jeff and Lester, the two resident troublemakers, started acting guilty, their faces twisted in bizarre expressions of panic. They began confessing to non-existent crimes, murmuring about 'illegal fountain soda refills' and 'unauthorized use of office supplies,' completely missing the gravity of the situation. 

Amid the chaos, Jeff was still trying to flirt with the terrified Elle, while Lester babbled about his 'innocent' use of the store's copy machine for research purposes.

Casey's gravelly voice boomed across the store, demanding the attention of everyone present. "Everyone down! Hands where I can see 'em!" His words were like thunder, shaking the very foundations of the store, and he didn't care if it was a little over the top, this was SWAT protocol, it helped him sell his cover.

Sarah, her sharp eyes darting around the room, spotted Chuck in the middle of the chaos, her gaze locking on him in an instant. A flicker of relief washed over her face, but it was fleeting. It was quickly replaced by concern as she took in the scene around him.

"Chuck!" Sarah shouted, her voice cutting through the confusion. "Are you okay?" Her tone was more commanding than caring, a mixture of compassion, precision, and genuine worry. But Chuck, in his current state, could barely keep it together long enough to respond.

Chuck raised both hands, his voice cracking as he tried to steady himself. "Define 'okay!'" he managed, his words tumbling out in a rush. "Because I'm pretty sure I'm having a nervous breakdown right now!"

Casey stomped over, his boots thudding heavily on the floor. His eyes narrowed as he took in the two lifeless bodies on the floor and the complete disarray of the store. "Bartowski," he barked, his voice low and dangerous. "What the hell happened here? And why are there two dead bodies on the floor? And more importantly, why are they the ones who we came in to capture?"

Chuck, in his haze, weakly pointed toward the break room, his arm shaking uncontrollably. "It was Guldrin. He... uh... handled it."

Sarah raised a brow, confusion flickering in her eyes. "The kid?" She didn't even try to hide the surprise in her voice. "What do you mean 'handled it'?"

Casey scoffed, "Seems pretty self-explanatory, Walker." Casey observed the bodies with military precision as he approached. "They were killed,"

Chuck let out a weak laugh that teetered dangerously close to hysteria. "Oh, you know," he said, his voice rising in pitch as he mimicked the grim act with exaggerated hand gestures. "He just hugged one of them, and then... bam! Knife to the throat. And then he did the same thing to the other guy, and now he's in the break room like he just clocked out for lunch!" 

Chuck's words were incoherent, coming out in a rush, but he couldn't help himself. The absurdity of it all, the kid, the knife, the cold precision, it was too much to bear without some sort of humor, no matter how dark.

Casey's jaw tightened as he processed the information. He muttered something under his breath, words, so low Chuck almost couldn't make them out. "Little psycho. He… did our job… As much as I hate to admit it." The way he said it made it clear he wasn't happy, and Chuck couldn't really blame him.

Casey crouched down next to the bodies, inspecting them with the kind of professional detachment that only years of experience in high-risk operations could provide. He nodded to himself, seeing the precise knife strikes on both Fulcrum agents. "He wasn't kidding," Casey said gruffly, standing up and jerking his head toward Sarah. "Let's see what this kid has to say."

The agents approached the break room door cautiously, their movements sharp and measured. They had been briefed on the potential for a high-risk situation, but nothing could have prepared them for what they were about to walk into. 

Casey, always the professional, kicked the door open with a swift, practiced motion. His gun was up, aimed directly at the figures inside, ready to neutralize any threat that might have lingered after the chaos in the store. But what he found instead was... unexpected.

Guldrin sat casually at the table, completely unfazed by the armed agents entering the room. He was munching on a granola bar he'd grabbed from the snack machine after he'd casually shattered the glass. 

Wrappers of various snack foods were strewn across the table, and Shiro sat beside him, sipping from a juice box, as if the whole scene was nothing more than a casual hangout. Both of them looked so entirely unbothered by the situation that it was borderline absurd. 

If anyone could be said to be in control here, it was these two teens, though the word "control" hardly seemed to cover it.

Guldrin raised an eyebrow when he saw the agents burst in. "Took you long enough," he said, his voice calm and almost bored, as if he'd been waiting for this moment all day.

Casey's eyes narrowed in irritation, his grip tightening on his weapon. "You want to explain why there are two corpses outside?"

Guldrin, who had been casually leaning back in his chair, gave a nonchalant shrug, clearly not concerned with the gravity of the situation. "They were bad guys, like I said before. They were going to kidnap Chuck, kill everyone else, and probably blow up the store for good measure. I stopped them."

Sarah, still holding her gun at the ready, looked between Guldrin and Casey, her expression softening just slightly as she processed the boy's words. She seemed to struggle with the reality of what he was saying. "You're saying you saved everyone?"

Guldrin's lips twitched into a slight grin as he leaned back even further in his chair, clearly satisfied with the turn of events. "More like preemptively removed a threat," he corrected. "Honestly, you should be thanking me. Your precious Intersect, whatever that is, would be halfway to some underground torture facility by now if I hadn't stepped in."

Casey, who had been listening intently, grunted, his brow furrowed. "How do you know about the Intersect?"

Guldrin tilted his head slightly, as though considering the question before answering. "Numb Nuts over here told the Fulcrum," he said, giving Chuck an accusing glance. "Am I saying that right? Fulcrum? Anyway, he told the agent out there that he was the Intersect, and that made the guy really happy. And once he got what he wanted, he would have killed the rest of us. The next step was obvious, and I took care of it."

Casey's expression shifted from confusion to grudging respect, though it didn't completely soften his stance. "Kid's got a point," he muttered, glancing at Chuck. "If Bartowski had given himself up, they would've killed everyone in the store. He might have saved everyone after all…"

Chuck, who had been lingering nervously by the door, now gathered the courage to step fully into the room. His face was pale, and his hands were shaking slightly as he processed the situation. He opened his mouth, his voice cracking with disbelief. "But... but he killed them! Like, with a knife! Isn't anyone else freaked out by how calm he is about this?"

Shiro, who had been quietly sipping from her juice box this whole time, looked up at Chuck. Her expression was deadpan, as though she couldn't possibly understand why he was so rattled. 

"You get used to it. Be happy my boyfriend acted before they killed everyone." She said flatly with a shrug. 

Sarah, meanwhile, pinched the bridge of her nose, clearly trying to manage her own frustration and confusion. She had dealt with dangerous situations before, but this was something else. "Guldrin, we need to know everything you saw, everything you did after we were set free," she said firmly, her tone now more authoritative. "This is a serious situation."

Guldrin sighed dramatically, as though the entire thing was a minor inconvenience. "Fine. But can we do this somewhere less depressing?" he said, waving a hand around at the fluorescent lights overhead. "Seriously, these lights are terrible. I can't focus under these conditions. Maybe your hidden base?" Guldrin dropped another bomb to rattle them a little more.

Before anyone could respond, the sound of boots clattering through the store echoed down the hallway. More agents were arriving, securing the area and ushering panicked employees to safety as they shouted orders. 

The tension in the air grew thick as the reality of the situation settled in. General Beckman's voice crackled through Sarah's comms unit, sharp and authoritative. "Agent Walker, report. Is the asset secure, give me an update."

Sarah lifted her wrist to speak into the comms, her eyes still on Guldrin and Shiro, processing their strange and unsettling behavior. "General, we've secured the asset, and the immediate threat has been neutralized. However, there's… an unexpected variable."

Beckman's voice was instantly on alert. "Clarify."

Sarah's gaze shifted to Guldrin, who was now spinning his knife on the table like it was a fidget toy, clearly unperturbed by the tension in the room. "The variable is a fourteen-year-old boy who eliminated the hostiles single-handedly," she explained, her voice laced with a touch of disbelief. "Yes, that fourteen-year-old, the one you are thinking of, the Goldblood."

There was a long, drawn-out pause on the other end of the comms. Sarah could almost hear General Beckman's brain processing the information. Finally, the general's voice came back, sharp and commanding. "Damn Goldbloods…" She mumbled, but everyone could hear her, "Bring him in. I want a full debrief."

Guldrin smirked, clearly pleased with himself. He stood up from the table, slipping the knife he had been playing with into his rear holster with the smoothness of someone who had done this a thousand times before. 

"Finally," he said, as though he had been waiting for this meeting his entire life. "I've been waiting for this, maybe now we can have a real face-to-face or at least face-to-camera meeting."

Shiro, unfazed by the sudden shift in the mood, nodded quietly and stole another few juice boxes from the vending machine before standing up. As they both followed the agents, black bags were placed over their heads, standard procedure for keeping their base's location and access points secret.

Chuck, still reeling from the sheer absurdity of it all, threw his hands up in exasperation. "Of course you have," he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because why wouldn't a kid who casually murders bad guys also have a standing appointment with a four-star general? I… I am going to see my sister."

Casey, however, was having none of it. He grabbed Chuck by, the shoulder, his grip firm and unyielding. "No you aren't, Bartowski," he said with a sharp tug. "You are coming too."

Chuck barely managed a stammer of protest before Casey's iron grip latched onto his shoulder, steering him toward the secret passage that led into Castle. "Hey, wait, what? I'm not even supposed to be-"

"Shut it, Bartowski, like it or not, you are a spy, an asset, and this involves you," Casey growled, shoving the door open with a heavy thud. Behind them, Guldrin sauntered along with hands in his pockets, while Shiro, ever the picture of unbothered calm, sipped on yet another juice box through a hole in the black bag which mysteriously acquired.

The air inside Castle was cooler, and more sterile, the hum of high-tech machinery buzzing faintly in the background. 

"This is insane," Chuck muttered under his breath. "Absolutely bonkers. This morning I was worried about inventory reports. Now I'm being dragged into an underground spy base with two kids who treat murder like a casual hobby."

"Focus up, Bartowski," Casey barked, his voice echoing off the metallic walls. "You're about to get a front-row seat to reality. Might as well pay attention. These kids have been playing us, that damn song! I knew they were doing it on purpose."

Guldrin glanced over his shoulder, the bag still firmly resting over his head, clearly enjoying Chuck's unraveling. "Relax, Chuckles. It's not that bad. I mean, sure, today was a little... unconventional, but you'll get used to it. Probably."

Shiro nodded, deadpan as ever. "Probably not."

Chuck let out a nervous laugh, the kind that came from someone teetering on the edge of a breakdown. "Oh, great. That's comforting. Thanks, guys. Really."

(Give me your POWER, Please, and Thank You! Leave reviews and comments, they motivate me to continue.)