A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first fan-fic published on this site, and it takes the form of a "What if?" scenario. What if, on the night of the Pilot episode of Chuck in 2007, Casey had been the one to download the Intersect? This is (will be) a multi chapter fan fic exploring this AU. Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I am in no way affiliated with NBC's Chuck or anything else featured in this chapter - I wrote it purely for entertainment purposes and am not profiting from it, etc.

Chapter One: How to Kill Bryce Larkin

2007

Top Secret Government Compound

7:34 pm

NSA Major John Casey rounded the corner, his black silk tie billowing slightly with every step. His strides were confident, perhaps too much so, and in his hand he held a Glock 17 with a firm and experienced grip. His face remained emotionless as he turned the next corner, into a hallway which was flooded with cold light from the fluorescent tubes hanging above. His finger twitched – he longed to pull the trigger, but in his mind he knew it wouldn't be long before he did. Approaching a door which was set into the right-hand wall, he pulled the slide back and forth on the pistol, which responded with a satisfying click. Through brute force alone, he smashed the door open with his foot, and it swung back barely on its hinges. This room was much bigger than the maze of corridors he had previously navigated – massive, in fact. The walls, ceiling and floor were coated in every shade of white, and it was empty save for the computer in the centre of the room.

Oh, and Bryce Larkin. Bloodied and exhausted, the CIA agent turned traitor tapped furiously at the keyboard which controlled the computer, a brutal concoction of sweat and blood cascading down his face.

"It's too late, Bryce." Casey called.

"It's never too late." Bryce responded, his eyes glued to the screen.

Casey grunted, and lifted up the Glock, the iron sight aimed securely at Bryce's chest. With one flick of his finger, the room exploded with sound, and the bullet whizzed through the air and straight into Bryce's stomach. He collapsed in agony, crying out desperately, and Casey, cool and collected as ever, marched over to his buckled figure. This time when he lifted the gun, he aimed for the head, and was just about to touch the trigger when he saw Bryce lift his arm and point at the screen.

Casey grunted curiously, and looked up at the computer. His eyes filled with rage: Power surge in 20 seconds. Bryce was going to destroy the computer, it seemed. With a fair amount of certainty, Casey pulled the trigger, ending Bryce's life in a gory mess on the floor. Blood pooled around the corpse, seeping into the grooves in the tiles and spreading out slowly. Casey, quick thinking, smashed the keyboard with rage.

The screen flickered, then changed, now reading: Intersect Uploading. Before Casey could react, the room was ablaze with colour. Every tile covering the floor, ceiling and walls was a screen, and they filled with pictures and names like a visual encyclopaedia. Mesmerised, Casey watched intently, his mind racing. He had been given orders to kill Bryce, but nothing had been said about the computer actually starting up.

The images intensified, the colours becoming more vibrant, before each screen turned black in turn, before black peppered the walls and floor, and finally the upload was complete. The room turned white again, and Casey stumbled, using the computer bench for support. His head ached badly, so much so that his vision went in and out of focus, with coloured spots appearing and disappearing in some sort of random pattern. The power surge took effect, and the room was momentarily riddled with arcs of electricity as the circuits were fried.

Shaking his head feverishly, Casey managed to control himself and grunted, before holstering his pistol and walking away from Bryce's fresh carcass, which still oozed vivid red blood. Stepping out of the room and back into the corridor, Casey slammed the door and headed for the exit.

Chug chug. Chug chug. The 1985 Ford Crown Victoria growled into life, the 4.6-litre V8 engine idled with a grumble resembling a caged bear. Casey put it into gear and twitched the accelerator, which the car responded to with a meaty roar.

Speeding away with a cloud of smoke from the tires and a scream from the engine, Casey computed what had just happened. He'd definitely done something – he felt strange, and not in the usual way. He knew that. He hadn't touched the whiskey at all. His head still throbbed uncontrollably, but at least his vision was in order once more.

Shaken from his thoughts by his mobile which vibrated violently, he cruised down the Washington DC streets with ease. Picking up the phone and accepting the call, he put it to his ear.

"General?" he inquired.

"Major Casey. Good work dispatching the target."

"No problem at all, General. The man was practically begging for a bullet in his skull."

"Yes, well, good work."

Casey grunted approvingly to himself, and rounded another corner.

"There is one thing though." he acknowledged.

"Oh? What is that?"

"The computer. It started up. I saw images...lots of them."

The phone remained silent for a few seconds.

"General?" Casey repeated.

"Major Casey, get back to the compound at once."

Before Casey had time to respond, the General hung up, the oh-so-familiar dial tone alerting him to this turn of events. His next grunt signified his intrigue – the General was keeping something from him. Gripping the wheel steadily with one hand and with the other on the handbrake, Casey swung the Crown Vic round expertly, the rear end lashing out in retaliation.

Within a matter of seconds, he was heading in the other direction, the throaty growl of the Crown Vic bellowing through the DC streets.

Casey pulled up outside the CIA compound, pulling up sharply on the handbrake. Swinging the door open, he stepped outside to be greeted by a flustered-looking General Beckman.

"Major Casey." she asserted, her voice dry as ice.

"General..." Casey replied, saluting briefly.

"At ease, Casey," Beckman replied, "I have some...news."

Another grunt of intrigue.

"...The Intersect. The computer which you accidentally started up before the power surge...it's inside of you now." she replied, clearly harrowed.

Casey raised one eyebrow: "And what does that mean, exactly?"

"When you initialised the Intersect," Beckman continued, "the entire system was downloaded into your brain."

"Go on..." Casey replied.

The General paled slightly, then continued: "The Intersect was a joint CIA/NSA initiative set up by the government after 9/11. We were told to play nice, to share our intel with each other. Every scrap of intelligence we had went into that computer, and it was the same with the CIA. Your brain now contains every secret either agency has. You are the Intersect."

Casey blinked, the gravity of the situation clearly not setting in just yet.

"What does that mean? How will it affect me?"

Beckman sighed, and held up an image of a well-built African-American man.

Casey's vision became fixated on it, and his brain was fed an explosion of information, his pulse surging. Images flashed before him – a strike fighter; a birth certificate; several images of the man in question, and then the strike fighter again.

"Adam Knight, formerly a US Army Ranger. DOB: 10th March 1972, currently under investigation for drugs and people trafficking." Casey blurted out.

His eyes widened – what had just happened?

The General hardly seemed surprised.

"That was the Intersect 'flashing' on the image. It's how the Intersect was designed to work. Every time you come across a piece of information contained within the Intersect, you 'flash' on it and everything about it is revealed to you. Be that information a picture, a voice, a line of text...anything."

Casey's mind processed this information along with the countless other images, aliases, secrets and concepts he imagined it was already dealing with.

"What does this mean for me, General?" he inquired.

"Though your action was reckless, we acknowledge you had no intention of downloading the Intersect yourself. You will return to your post as normal, and we will contact you soon about our plans for the future."

Casey grunted in confirmation, before saluting once more and heading back towards the Crown Vic.

A/N: Expect a new chapter in the next few days! Hope you enjoyed it! :)

AM138