After what seemed like nine hours, but in actuality was approximately twenty-five minutes, Officer Cameron decided that they were not being followed. There had been no signs of another vehicle following, and with the speed of the car there was no way anyone could have kept up on foot.

Just to be absolutely certain, Cameron stopped the car and waited at one of the deserted intersections for a moment to see if any vehicles appeared behind them after their abrupt halt. Cameron looked back at Sands, who was still out cold, and decided he’d better search him for any bugs or tracking devices.

After a quick dry-clean of Sands’ person, he was satisfied that his fellow officer was clean. Cameron started the car back up and stepped on the gas. He made a couple more quick turns, and one last hard right, as he headed out of town. The sudden motion caused Sands’ body to shift to one side and Sands grunted in reaction.

‘At least he’s still alive,’ Cameron thought, only slightly reassured.

As they reached the outskirts of the town, Cameron continually looked in his rear view mirror for a possible tail, and was pleased to see none. His gaze in the rear view wandered down to Sands’ still form lying awkwardly in the back seat. Officer Sands, a man he’d known since they’d met at the Farm some thirteen years ago. They’d even graduated together, although much to Cameron’s dismay, Sands got significantly better grade point average in almost every subject.

Cameron had always been slightly jealous of Sands, though he’d never admit it out loud. The fact he hadn’t mentioned it out loud hadn’t mattered though, because Sands was aware of it just the same. Sands had the remarkable ability to look at someone, listen to the tenor of their voice, weigh their body language and know exactly what that person was thinking. It was a gift that really couldn’t be taught, and it was the reason the Company had placed Sands’ in the Interrogations Department right after he’d graduated. It was a perfect fit, but in the end Sands simply ticked off too many people in the department for him to be welcome there and he’d been officially labeled ‘does not work well with others’.

It was distinctively Sands. Master manipulator and controller extraordinaire… he lived to get under people’s skin, which was why he’d never had any real friends and was a perfect officer for the Company. A man who no longer had any family to tie him down, any people to care.

Cameron knew that Sands was a smart man. ‘No, smart wasn’t the word for it. Sands was a genius at what he did.’ When it came to psychological warfare, mind games and intelligence gathering he could think of no one at the Company who was better at it than Officer Sheldon Jeffery Sands. But Cameron was no fool either; he knew that behind that genius was a somewhat, if not very, unbalanced mind.

Which is why he was wondering, at this very moment, just what could have gone so wrong. Sands was not a stupid officer in the field, and he had some ten years experience under his belt.

Sands voice drawled in Cameron’s mind. How many times had he listened to Sands utter those words? Just set them up and watch them fall. Sands had always made it sound so easy, when in reality it was anything but.

Yes, the man was a perfect CIA Operations Officer… that is, to those that weren’t privy to any of Sands’ own private clandestine operations. Sands wasn’t without his faults, and as the saying goes, you can’t be good at everything. Sands had a bad habit of drawing too much attention to himself for his own good, with his bizarre taste in tacky clothing and bad wigs. Sands also had a tendency to go too far when something didn’t go his way, and as far as authority went, well… the ‘doesn’t play well with others’ label always came back into effect. Sands would go to almost any lengths to get what he wanted.

However, Cameron knew the Company well. If an officer was a great asset to the agency, got the intelligence and results that the Company wanted, and was secretive enough about any improper conduct… well, then the Company might be inclined to look the other way, as long as the agent didn’t cross the line by committing treason, or causing any unfavorable blowback. No, the Company wasn’t unfamiliar with the term ‘turn a blind eye’, and often enough they let a truly good asset continue his operations without interference from them, as long as the officer could keep his unfavorable behavior clandestine.

Cameron did know Sands well enough to know he wouldn’t commit treason, and Cameron hadn’t seen, heard of or read about any blowback from Sands’ rolled-up operation. However Cameron had known Sands long enough to be fairly certain Sands had used methods that were not publicly accepted by the Company. The real question was whether the Company knew about it. If they did know, then the next question was just exactly how much were they aware of?

"Sands?" Cameron inquired, curious to know if Sands was conscious.

"Eleven…" Sands mumbled quietly, seemingly still unconscious.

Cameron’s brow furrowed. Sands was alive, yes, but he didn’t seem to be all there, being unaware of his surroundings and company. "Don’t worry Jeff, I’ll get a pretty female white coat to take care of you, just hang on for me."

"Eleven… mustn’t… broken." The injured officer continued to mumble.

A flash of memory came to Cameron then. It was of a conversation he’d had with Sands way back when they were freshmen together at the Farm.

---

---

Just like that, the memory was gone. Cam couldn’t help but chuckle at it because he still couldn’t remember what commandment eleven was. After all, he’d learned all that thirteen years ago, and he’d had some trouble remembering it even back then. Besides, he wasn’t even sure that Sands was mumbling about commandment eleven. He could be babbling about almost anything; with the amount of blood he’d lost he was probably delusional.

Besides Sands’ mumbling and bleeding, Cameron was also concerned about the fact that Sands didn’t seem to have recognized him. Even after leaving the Farm he had worked side-by-side with Sands on several operations. It wasn’t as if Sands would have forgotten him.

As he glanced back in the mirror his eyes once again focused on all the blood that seemed to be flowing out from under Sands’ sunglasses. He hated to think that Sands hadn’t recognized him because he couldn’t see him, but unfortunately he thought it highly likely. Cameron sincerely hoped, if only for the sake of Sands’ own highly-questionable sanity, that it was a temporary problem.