Disclaimer: I do not own Chuck.

AN: I felt like hating Shaw for some reason please be kind with me.

July 2, 2014

Mojave Desert

Daniel Shaw awoke in a van somewhere in the Mojave. He blinked several times as the tranquilizer in his system wore off, but he still felt the grogginess in him. The hot desert sun was blaring down at him as the temperatures approached 110° F.

"Wake up Shaw, you slimy son of a whore."

He felt a sharp kick to his ribs that aroused him from the drug. He fell out of the back of the van and landed with an unceremonious thud outside, where the sun and desert heat bore down on him. Sarah Bartowski stood above him with a cold look on her angelic face.

He grinned malevolently. "Hello, Sam." That earned him a growl from her and another kick to the ribs.

Shaw glanced up and saw John Casey standing by the van scowling at him with hateful eyes. He then heard the chilling squawks and saw them. Five black and gray colored vultures staring at him not ten feet from him. They gazed upon him with midnight black eyes that frightened the former spy to the bone. All five let out a mournful, chilling squawk.

"This is murder," he argued.

Sarah's eyes narrowed. "You threatened to experiment on my children, threatened to kill my husband, and then you threatened to rape me before killing me as well?"

It was hard to tell who showed the more deathly look: Sarah or the vultures. No one threatened her family and survived to tell the tale.

"It wasn't personal Sam, it was just…business," he chuckled.

A vein pulsed in Sarah's forehead and the freelance spy proceeded to grab him by the collar and deliver a right hook across his skull, knocking him back to the ground. The five vultures squawked excitedly, eyeing their potential meal.

She lifted him by the collar of his tattered shirt once again. Her blood boiled with rage.

"My name is Sarah Bartowski, not Sam!" she barked, referring to the name she may not have been born with, but it was the name that made her complete.

He kept his mouth shut, actually afraid of the blonde woman.

"You know, Daniel," Sarah ground out as the mere mention of Shaw's name made the bile rise in her throat. "I could forgive you trying to kill me. Maybe even Chuck. I did kill your precious Eve, but Graham wanted her dead for a reason. But you crossed a line when you threatened to experiment on my son and daughter. My son and daughter are my whole world, and when you threaten them, there is no turning back."

She shoved him hard onto the hot desert ground. Casey gave her a wire-like device.

"This is Python wire. It's a brand new invention, and it can take your head off if you apply enough pressure."

"I'm sorry, Sarah." he pleaded. The slimy worm actually tried to beg for his life.

"No, Shaw. I'm sorry about a lot of things in life, including killing your wife. But I am not sorry for this."

She wrapped the Python wire around his muscular neck. She tightened it hard as Shaw struggled and thrashed but it was hard to do when tied up like he was.

The Vultures looked on in silence.

Sarah had a hateful scowl on her face as the Python wire pierced Shaw's neck, causing blood to seep out. The former spy's eyes turned red as blood vessels popped. Finally, the thrashing stopped.

Sarah tried to catch her breath as her anger slowly disappeared. She was finally at peace; now that the killer of her late father-in-law had finally paid for all the sorrow he caused her family.

She nodded at Casey, who took out a silencer and put six bullets into Shaw to make it look like he had resisted, four in the chest, one in the head and one in the leg. General Beckman, their former boss, had allowed them take care of Shaw with no consequences since the former CIA agent was too dangerous to be left alive.

"Burn in hell, you piece of shit." Sarah said.

"I want to go home to my husband and children." she said getting into the passanger side.

Casey looked at the five Scavenging birds ready to feast on their new meal. As the two spies left, the five birds flew over and began feasting little by little on the corpse; the hot and desolate desert becoming his grave.

TO BE CONTINUED