Sands sat against the wall, biting back his laughter, and waiting for the inevitable sound of the door bursting open. He tilted his head back, willing the pain in his side to go away, as he tapped the gun against his thigh in some private rhythm. The door finally gave way, and Martin’s goons came rushing into the room.

“Come to crash the party?” Sands drawled, keeping his gun pointed down towards the floor. Since they could very well shoot him right then and there, he didn’t want to provoke them into firing their weapons.

“Don’t fucking move!” a man shouted.

“Now why would I want to do that?” Sands asked dryly. He heard one of several officers approach him, while another headed straight over to where Martin was lying unconscious. Well, Sands assumed Martin was unconscious. It was hard for him to tell for certain.

Whoever was standing beside Sands cocked his gun, nudging him in the shoulder with the barrel; just so Sands knew that it was there. How considerate. “Is that a gun, or are you just happy to see me?” Sands drawled.

“How ‘bout I show you?” the man shot back, clearly not in the mood for jokes.

Not that he cared. “Sorry. I don’t swing that way,” Sands said.

“Get him to a white coat immediately!” a female officer ordered, interrupting their banter. Sands thought that her voice sounded familiar, but couldn’t quite place it.

A couple more officers went over to Martin. The female officer approached Sands, coming to stand in front of him. “Drop the gun, or Andy here will shoot you. Martin may care about keeping you alive, but I don’t.”

Sands tilted his head to the side, cocking an eyebrow. “Maybe you should ask yourself why Martin’s gone through all this trouble to keep me breathing.”

“What are we going to do?” Andy asked the female officer.

“We carry out Martin’s plan, and if he struggles, kill him.”

Something suddenly clicked in his mind, and he was able to put a name to the voice. Sands grinned. “Officer Shivel? Charming, as always.” He’d never really liked her.

A second hard jab in the shoulder from Andy and Sands dropped his gun. It was time for a subtle blend of psychology and escapology, anyway. He didn’t really need the gun; at least, not right away. “Can you imagine the mountain of paperwork you’ll have if you kill an officer working for the Directorate of Intelligence?”

She laughed. “I know better than to believe a single word that comes out of your mouth, Sands. Get up.”

“You’re on the wrong side of the fence, doll.”

“I suppose your side is the right side?” She knelt down next to him, her voice pitched softer than before. “You’re drowning, and I’m not taking the side of a doomed man.”

Sands leaned towards her. “You already have.”

Shivel humphed, and stood. “I’m fully aware of what you’re capable of. I won’t be making the same mistake that Martin made.”

Sands smiled, his right hand digging into his pocket for cigarettes. One of the officers, he couldn’t tell which, pressed their gun to his temple, but when he pulled out the lighter and pack of cigarettes the pressure subsided. “But you are. You just don’t realize it.”

“Why are you letting him talk?” Andy cut in.

Sands spoke before Shivel could answer. “Because the Company has your balls in a vice, Andy. I’m the only one who can relieve the pressure.”

“Don’t get smart with me,” Andy snapped.

Sands lit up, letting the nicotine relax him. “If I was, how would you know?”

“We’re not in any danger of being caught,” Shivel said.

Sands smiled mischievously, and listened as an unconscious Martin was moved out of the room. “Why do you think Martin was so upset? The Company is fully aware of the entire goings on down here, and I have to tell you, they’re not happy campers.” Sands took a deep drag of his cigarette, before continuing cryptically, “With any luck, you’ll come full circle and end up with me again. I’ll give you some of my personal ‘therapy’.”

Shivel grunted in annoyance, asking, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that the Company likes to make traitors disappear. The Company’s reputation is rotten enough as it is, and the less bad publicity the better.”

“Why don’t you just spit it out?”

“Let’s just say that you’ll end up helping the Company in the end, albeit maybe not willingly… or even knowingly,” he said, getting into a subject that he would be wise not to bring up. He decided to tell the truth, because it was the scariest of all.

“Get up,” she demanded.

Sands made a weak attempt to get up. Muttering “shit” under his breath, he dropped back down to the floor. He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t think I can. It’s hard for me to move.” He massaged the back of his neck. “I wasn’t fast enough.”

“Too bad for you,” Andy said.

“Worse for Martin,” Sands quickly pointed out, cigarette planted firmly between his lips.

“Go get the tranquilizer,” Shivel ordered, and the other officer left immediately.

“So, pray tell. What is this big bad plan that you’re going to carry out in Martin’s honor?”

“You’ll be committed to a dreary Mexican sanitarium. Stripped of all identification, you’ll soon be lost and forgotten.”

Sands raised an eyebrow. “Swell.” He took another puff of his cigarette, careful not to move too easily, faking sluggish movements for the lady’s benefit. “What about you, doll? How do you plan on escaping the inescapable? How do you plan to lose the Company?”

“I know people,” she stated crisply.

By the tone of her voice, he could tell that she was certain of her contact’s reliability. He took a deep drag, contemplating the best way to strip away her confidence. The other officer would be back soon with the tranquilizer, so he had to act quickly. Perhaps a change of tactic was in order. He’d denied everything with Martin, but this officer had a completely different personality, and the circumstances were completely different… so an alternate approach was called for.

He knew she was loyal to Martin. That much was obvious. He was sure, however, that she was more loyal to herself.

“The Company casts an inescapable shadow; it will fall over any place you go, darken everything you do. Are you willing to run for the rest of your life?” Sands asked, his voice so matter-of-fact it was hard to believe that it could be anything but the truth.

“I’ll do just fine.”

Sands shrugged, tapping the ash off his cigarette. “Always a possibility. It won’t stop you from having to look over your shoulder every day for the rest of your life, but there is always the remote chance that you’ll slip through undetected. Best of luck to you.”

“Why are you suddenly concerned for my well being?”

Sands’ bark of laughter cut through the air like a knife. “Concern for others is not a feeling I indulge in.” He smirked, bringing the cigarette to his lips. “I’m offering you a deal.”

“What could you possibly have to bargain with?”

Sands grinned as he exhaled smoke through his nose. “An escape from the Company’s shadow. You do nothing more to me, and I’ll see to it that the Company thinks you a hero instead of the traitor you so obviously are.”

She closed the gap between them. “What makes you so sure that they’ll believe you over me and the rest of the officers working under Martin?”

Sands tilted his head back until it rested against the wall. “Well, I do have my wonderful reputation working in my favor, but…” Sands raised his head and smirked in her direction. “Most importantly, I gave them proof. I handed them hard evidence that they’re already acting on. That, my dear, is why Martin was so upset after his phone call. It signaled the beginning of the end for his illegal activities.”

“An officer who’s been transferred as many times as you have can’t have much sway in the Company,” she countered. “They have to respect the officer to--”

“I’ve never been transferred,” Sands interrupted, exhaling a large cloud of smoke.

“How’s that?” she asked. He was happy to hear the surprise lacing her tone. He’d managed to catch her off guard.

“Let me ask you something. Why would the Company bother bouncing around an officer that they consider such a pain in the ass? Why not get rid of me and be done with it?”

When she seemed to be at a loss for words, he continued. “You know, I think it would be therapeutic for me to tell you the truth. It’s been a very long time since I’ve done that.” He took a deep breath, stubbing his cigarette out on the cement floor. That last part was a lie; he was only telling her because it would unnerve her. “Like I said, I work for the Directorate of Intelligence. PsyOps, because of its controversial past, is an unstable branch of the DI that has to disperse and relocate the bulk of its officers whenever there’s an investigation into the CIA’s activities. The Company can’t afford another MK-Ultra scandal, so major projects, especially experiments, are put on hold; everything is neatly tucked away for a not so rainy day. The majority of its officers are sent wherever they are needed, until things can resume back at home.”

“You worked as an assassin…” she cut in, not quite believing him.

“Twice,” Sands said, holding up two fingers. “But that wasn’t my original assignment in either operation; it was a last resort. Psychological persuasion was no longer an option. The only reason I was asked to do the wet work was because I was conveniently close by, and fully capable of carrying out the orders.” He shrugged. “Besides, that was a long time ago; my first few years working for the Company. Nowadays, it’s a cold day in hell before they ask for someone to be whacked… officially.”

“So, if I let you go, then I’m just supposed to trust that you’ll carry out your end of the bargain?”

“Bitch of a deal, isn’t it?”

The door opened and closed. “Here’s the tranquilizer.”

Sands didn’t acknowledge Andy’s return, keeping his attention on Shivel.

“If I am supposed to trust you…” she started, but Andy quickly interrupted.

“What? Trust him?”

“Who called Martin?” Shivel asked Andy.

“How should I know?”

While the two officers were distracted, Sands nudged the gun he’d dropped earlier, still lying at his feet, ever-so-slightly towards him with the heel of his boot.

“He said that they know!” she hissed.

“He’d say anything to get out of this!”

“But what if they do? We need to get out of here.”

“Not if you trust me,” Sands interjected smoothly.

She let out a half-hearted chuckle. “I can’t trust you. That’s the problem.”

“There is far more to me, to this whole operation, than either of you realize.”

“Why did they send you here, Sands?” she asked, as if the question had just occurred to her. “Why was a PsyOps officer needed in Culiacan?”

“Ah, finally you ask a worthwhile question.” Sands smirked. “Neither of you are cleared for that sort of information. You’re aware that there will be consequences if I tell you?”

“You don’t tell us, and we have no deal.”

Sands pretended to think over whether he was going to tell them or not, before starting the explanation with a lazy wave of his hand. “Social destabilization,” Sands said at last, giving the gun another light tap towards him as he extracted another cigarette from the pack. “It was necessary to study the social dynamics in Culiacan, so that we could successfully influence a coup d'état. It was a particularly tricky operation because the overthrow had to be timed perfectly. Imagine Mexico as an ancient fortress. For everything to balance out, certain walls had to fall, but we couldn’t just knock down all the walls; the supporting walls had to remain standing.” Smiling, Sands lit up. “It was a plan so crafty you could put a tail on it and call it a weasel.”

“Are you telling me that you influenced all of Culiacan into a coup on the Day of the Dead?” Andy scoffed.

“No, Ignoramus. I’m telling you that I was controller for not only Martin’s operation, but for PsyOps’ operation as well. The truth of the matter is, Martin’s operation was nothing more than an expensive distraction.” While he was talking, Sands managed to slip the gun into his pants without them noticing. He was extremely thankful that their nervousness about the uncertain situation had made them careless… it was exactly what he’d been hoping for.

There was a long stretch of silence before either officer seemed able to make a decision. Sands tilted his head and arched an eyebrow in question, but said no more.

It was Shivel who finally broke the silence. “Get him up.”

“What are we doing?” Andy asked, clearly unhappy about the whole situation.

Another long pause. She was definitely uneasy. “We’re going to stick to the plan.”

Sands said nothing in response, taking a final drag of his cigarette. He showed no outward signs of worry, and wondered what their body language would be telling him right now. She hadn’t switched sides like he’d hoped, but he’d accomplished the main goal just the same. She now lacked that extra boost of self-confidence that she’d had before, and he’d managed to unnerve her enough to get his weapon back without her noticing. He tossed the cigarette to the ground without bothering to stub it out, and then exhaled the remaining smoke through his mouth in a well practiced vaporous ring.

Inhaling a lungful of air, Sands struggled to his feet. Although he wasn’t as helpless as he was pretending to be, it wasn’t all an act either. His entire body ached, and he knew he needed to end all this before his body decided to give out all together.

Standing upright, Sands leaned against the wall to steady himself. When Andy tried to pull him along, he held up a hand. “Just give me a second.” Bending over, he placed his hands on his knees, swallowing thickly.

“Should I give him the tranquilizer now?” Andy asked, a firm grip still on Sands’ upper arm.

Shivel sighed, walking towards the door. “No, he’s weak anyway. Things will just take longer if we subdue him.”

‘Thank God for absolute stupidity,’ Sands thought to himself, moving his hand to his hip as if the wound in his side was causing him pain.

That’s when Andy finally took notice. “Hey, where’s the Glock?”

‘Showtime.’ Sands pulled the gun from his pants, pressing the barrel against Andy’s chest. “Right here.” Sliding back the safety, Sands pulled the trigger. Turning around to face Shivel, he pushed Andy backward as the man fell to the floor. “Sorry, doll. I just couldn’t go along with all this.”

Giving Shivel little time to think, he ignored his protesting muscles and spun round quickly, kicking her feet out from under her.

“Shit!” Shivel yelped. Her gun fired; the bullet going astray as she lost her balance and hit the ground.

Wasting no time, Sands aimed at where he’d heard her land, and squeezed the trigger.

She let out a yelp of pain, and he approached her quickly, his gun never wavering from his target.

“You so much as breathe too deeply and I’ll kill you,” Sands said coldly. “Toss the weapon.”

He listened as she dropped the gun, and then picked it up and tucked it away so she couldn’t pull the same stunt he had. Her breathing was labored, and laced with pain. He was pretty sure he’d gotten her in the stomach. “You should have gone along with me. Now look at you. You’re bleeding all over the cement. You’re a mess. It’s pathetic.” Sands paused, kneeling down. Reaching out his free hand, he found her jaw and turned her head so that she was facing him. “Can you really blame a man with no eyes for what he’s about to do?”

“Fuck you,” she gasped.

Sands heaved a put upon sigh and, hearing Andy groan, swiftly trained his gun on the sound and fired, silencing the man once and for all. Turning his attention back to Shivel, he flashed a twisted smile. “It must be my lucky day. If there was anyone watching the camera, they would have come rushing to your aid by now.” Sands tilted his head. “Not many people on this base are privy to Martin’s illegal operations, are they? Where am I, exactly? Inside the base or in one of the connecting buildings?”

When she said nothing, Sands ran the barrel of his gun slowly down her chest, stopping between her breasts. “If you don’t answer me, you’re of no use to me. I hope your affairs are in order.”

“Okay, okay…” she said, feebly attempting to push the gun away from her and failing miserably. She took a long, ragged breath before she continued. “Interrogation… B.”

“Give me your cell,” he said, holding out his hand. About half a minute later, she dropped the phone into his palm.

“I… need a doctor.”

“I noticed,” Sands said, not sounding overly concerned as he flipped open her cell phone and ran a finger over the keypad. “You know that old cliché… I’d tell you but then I’d have to kill you?” Snapping the phone shut, he returned his attention to her. “Well, I told you about PsyOps’ operation. I warned you both that there would be consequences. Well, these are those consequences. You’re not classified for that sort of information.”

“Please, I…” she trailed off as he stood and walked over to the chair, lying by the door. Picking it up, he moved it to his best guesstimate of the center of the room.

“I hope the base is up to code,” Sands drawled.

“Call…” Shivel’s voice was interrupted when she began coughing violently. After the coughing subsided she finished faintly, “Doctor,” sounding as if she was about to slip into unconsciousness.

“Am I near the smoke detector?” Sands asked, ignoring her plea.

When she didn’t answer, he turned back towards her, mostly out of habit. “Doll?”

Silence. She must have passed out… or decided that she’d helped him enough.

Groaning in annoyance, Sands turned his attention back to the task at hand. Holding the chair up over his head so the chair back touched the ceiling tiles, he moved around the room until it made contact with the smoke alarm. Luckily, it hadn’t taken too long, and he hadn’t been too far off the mark. He planned on using the alarm as a distraction… but only if it was absolutely necessary.

Setting the chair down so that it was positioned directly under the smoke alarm, he sat down on it and pulled Shivel’s cell phone out from his pocket. He needed to find out how far the OOS officers were from the base. Fingers quickly familiarizing themselves with the keypad he dialed Cam’s number, one foot tapping impatiently as it rang.

‘Damn it Cam, just because you don’t recognize the number doesn’t mean it’s not important!’ When he was sent to Cam’s voice mail, he pinched the bridge of his nose and spoke calmly into the phone, despite the anxiety he was feeling. “Hello Cam. This is hell calling. If you don’t answer your fucking phone or call me back, I will devour your soul. Have a nice day.” Sands snapped the cell phone shut, and waited.

He knew that he could attempt to leave the complex, but there were random factors in abundance. For one thing, until OOS arrived, he was still considered a rogue officer. Second, he had no idea how many officers were set up outside the interrogation building, working for Martin, armed and ready to shoot if necessary. The fact that he couldn’t see complicated things almost to the point of absurdity.

When the cell rang, he immediately answered it. He didn’t say anything, not wanting to give himself away if it was someone calling Shivel.

After a few seconds of static over the phone line, a voice finally asked, “Sands?”

“Cam, I may have to kill you,” Sands stated.

“Later. Thank God! I was afraid that you were dead.”

Well, maybe someone did care after all. “What’s the situation?” Sands asked.

“OOS received your recording from Tom. They’re coming to pick you up and arrest Martin. There is going to be one hell of an investigation. OOS’ ETA is 1800…” Cam stopped for a moment, and then added, “That’s in ten minutes.”

“This could be over in three,” Sands said. As if on cue, the room’s door opened with a creak. Sands head snapped up at the sound, and he immediately aimed the Glock at the door.

“Don’t shoot!”

“Ava… close the door.”

She did as he asked without any argument. “Holy shit!” she exclaimed, obviously getting a good look at the carnage around her. “Did you do this?”

“No, it was Santa Claus.” Sands returned his attention back to Cam, who was repeatedly asking, “What is it?” in a slightly panicky tone.

“Forget it. So, how is the Company feeling about me these days?”

“Mixed, as always. Martin’s the one getting the axe, though. What’s going on?”

“I’m at the Mexico Base, in Interrogation building B. Ava’s here too. Long story short: I paralyzed Martin, and several officers rushed him out of here to see the white coats. I’ve… taken care of the two goons in charge of committing me to the loony bin. Now I’m sitting in an interrogation room with bodies surrounding me and no… visible way out of here.”

“You have been busy,” Cam said after a brief pause, and to his credit, he didn’t sound terribly shocked by Sands’ summary. “Sit tight. I’ll report your exact position to OOS.”

A rustle of clothing distracted Sands from his conversation, and his attention quickly shifted to Ava. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Checking to see if she’s dead,” Ava answered.

A tingle ran up Sands’ spine, and he frowned at the voice in his mind that whispered, ‘Don’t trust her.’

Suddenly, he didn’t like the company he was keeping.

“Cam, I’ll call you back,” Sands ended his cell conversation with a snap of its cover, and asked Ava, “Dead or alive, why is she any concern of yours?”

“I’m not used to death like you…”

“Bullshit,” Sands interrupted, standing up. He leveled his gun on her. “Back away.”

She did so, moving back towards the door. “Sands… don’t be crazy.”

“When am I anything but?” Sands asked, tilting his head slightly to the side. “I’ve got some time to kill. Let’s do a puzzle.”

“What?”

“You know… a puzzle. You have several of the missing pieces, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, and Sands had to give her credit, because she certainly sounded convincing.

“You’re very good,” he stated. “But I’m always just a little bit better. I never did trust you, you know.”

“I feel very sorry for you, Sheldon, because you can’t trust anyone.”

Sands stiffened when she used his first name, knowing that Tom wouldn’t have given it to her. “With good reason,” he said, slowly approaching her.

“Maybe.”

Sands stopped in front of her, smirking in a way only a true cynic could. “So, you’re the sleeper.”