Categories > Movies > Once Upon a Time in Mexico > Darkness
It was dark. He couldn't tell if someone else was in the room. The only thing that he could hear was beeping. ~Probably a heart monitor.~ His hands were lying flat at his sides. He didn't feel hard concrete underneath him. He knew that he was lying on a bed. He could move both hands and feet so he was not strapped down.
He tried to open his eyes and automatically knew that something was wrong. He couldn't seem to get them open. He lifted his right hand and with shaky fingers touched the upper part of his face. He felt soft cloth under his fingers. He followed the material and realized that it was wrapped around his head.
You didn't even see it coming, did you. . .
Fortunately for you, nothing you did is worth dying for. You have only seen too much. We are going to make sure this does not happen again.
He clawed at the cloth as the voices of his distorted memories clouded his mind. He could remember everything now, being double-crossed, watching his entire operation go to hell and then having his eyes drilled out.
He'd been in the hospital enough times to know that there had to be a panic or call button near his bed somewhere. With his left hand he felt around until he found the guardrail. He traced the cool metal until he found the cord. He followed the cord until he finger was over the button. He hesitated for just a minute before he pressed it. The buzzing filled the room.
Meyers on the other hand was on his way back to the hospital. After reaching the States he brought Fernando to his room, the child was absolutely exhausted. He wasn't all that surprised that the boy had fallen asleep almost immediately. The boy had been through quite a lot in the last day or two.
After seeing that the child was safely asleep he went to meet with Chuck Bradney and his own supervisor, Richard Mullens. He hated these meetings. They were either so brief that nobody knew what in the hell was going on or they were so long that by the time they finished your ass was numb from sitting in the same spot.
His supervisor had been slightly busy, so the meeting lasted all of 15 minutes. In the end it was decided that the Director of Defense, Chuck Bradney would be 'acting' supervisor. He'd go to the hospital with Meyers and assess the damage that Sands had sustained. They ignored the comment that his injuries would be easy to assess once they were seen.
The drive to the hospital was uneventful. Meyers had tried a couple of times to explain to Bradney what had happened to Sheldon but it was clear that he wasn't going to listen.
Meyers pulled onto the shoulder of the road. "I'm just trying to prepare you for what you're going to see."
Bradney scoffed. "I've been with the Central Intelligence Agency for over 25 years, there isn't much that can be done to an agent that I haven't seen. Quit thinking that I don't know what I'm up against."
Meyers shrugged. If Bradney thought that he had seen 'everything,' then fine. He hated to use his friend’s condition as a shock tactic but Bradney deserved it. "Alright fine." He restarted the car.
As they drove towards the hospital Bradney couldn't help but feel as if he made a mistake. Agent Meyers obviously felt as though Agent Sands' condition was bad. ~Oh well, ~ he thought to himself. ~The worst that there could possibly be would be if he's in a coma and the Cartel had mutilated him beyond recognition.~
Sands on the other hand had grown impatient. The doctors wouldn't let him dress, so he was in a bathrobe with his hospital gown underneath that. Despite their warnings he had removed the bandages and gaze. If he knew Meyers as well as he thought he did, as well as proper protocol in regards to injured and mutilated agents, he had went to The Company and would probably be returning with a supervisor. He would die first, and then have them see him with his face bandaged.
After he had pressed the call button; a Dr. Morris had come in. They were surprised that he was awake and relieved that he was coherent. After all, he had been through a very traumatic experience. They had been worried that it would have been too much and that his mind might have collapsed.
Sheldon chuckled humourlessly to himself. He was Sheldon Jeffrey Sands. He was mentally unstable to begin with (and of course he knew that); he had to be for half the shit he pulled. It would take a little more than getting his eyes gouged out to make his mind fall apart.
He was grateful just the same when the hospital provided him with a pair of sunglasses. They were still on the table. He had to disinfect his "eyes" before putting the glasses on his face. He stood up and waited for the darkness to stop moving. Once everything was still he slowly made his way to the bathroom. As he felt along the wall until he hit the bathroom door; he concluded that being blind sucked. While he was in the bathroom attending to his body's needs, both Meyers and Bradney came in.
"Shel?"
Sheldon froze at the sink where he was washing his hands. As requested by the doctors, when he was alone the glasses stayed off. But this meant that he had company and now he was exposed. His dark world was starting to spin again. He could feel the bile rising up in his throat.
"Meyers?" He hated how weak and uncertain he sounded.
"Yeah Sheldon?" He felt bad for his friend. He knew how hard his injury was on him. At first, he thought that maybe Sheldon had lost his bearings.
"You're not alone, are you?"
"No." As he spoke he watched Bradney. The man was studying the room.
At first glance it didn't look like anything out of the ordinary. There was the usual IV bags and things of that nature, although the stand for that was empty. The rail on the bed on the one side was up and the phone was off.
When Meyers had informed him that he was not alone Sands tried not to panic. The Company was never one to waste time; he figured they'd send one of their higher-ranking people there as soon as possible. He just wished that he were more prepared. He could either face the music and go out there with his sockets exposed, or he could get off his pedestal and ask for help.
"Meyers, can you bring the shades on the nightstand to me?" As he spoke he put his cup down. The hospital doctors insisted that he put something akin to eye drops in the cavities that had once been his eyes. The truth was that this had been the first time he had tried to do this on his own. He couldn't stand to touch the holes that he used to see out of. He turned to face the door. His hair fell into his face as he moved.
On the other side of the door Meyers went to the table where the sunglasses were. Bradney thought that the demand for the sunglasses was just Sands being a shit. "Agent Sands, quit the games and schemes. Get out here so we can talk."
~I'm going to freak out.~ He gripped the edge of the sink. ~I'm okay. My name is Sheldon Jeffrey Sands. I work for the Central Intelligence Agency. I throw shapes, I set them up and I watch them fall.~ He mentally repeated this mantra three times before he realized that he was falling. As he fell he swiped the cup and it hit the floor with a dull thud. He banged his head off the counter as he hit the floor. The result was that the people of the other side of the door heard a loud bang.
At the same time that all that happened Fernando walked into the room. He was immediately on edge. There was too much that Sands had been through for him to be comfortable with coming into a roomful of strangers.
Bradney grabbed the sunglasses from Meyers' hand and headed towards the bathroom. Meyers could hardly believe what he was seeing. He knew that Sands would not be happy with that. Bradney opened the bathroom door. Sands was sitting on the floor rubbing his head. The counter and the floor were covered with the liquid that the cup had held. When he heard the door open he sat up straight; not recognizing the pattern of the footfalls or the cologne that the person was wearing.
"Who's there?" He lifted his head to face the intruder. He figured at best he'd have the element of surprise. He smiled wickedly as he heard the gasp; but the smile faded when he realized that his unwanted guest was still there. Worse than that the intruder was handing him his sunglasses. He waited for the sound of a gun being cocked but none came.
"My God Sands. What the hell happened to you?"
Immediately he recognized the voice. It was Defense Director Charles Bradney. He adjusted the glasses on his face. "Mexico." He used the counter to pull himself to his feet. He stepped into the other room and Fernando slipped his hand into Sheldon's.
Bradney ran a hand over his face and looked at Meyers. Meyers raised an eyebrow and shrugged. His expression clearly said ~I tried to tell you.~
Fernando led Sands to the bed. Sands backed up until his heel hit the frame and then he sat. Fernando disappeared into the bathroom. Once re-adjusted and once again on his own turf where he was comfortable he become cocky. Sands 'looked' at the two agents. "What's the word?"
Bradney cleared his throat. "The coup that happened on November 2nd. That was a serious fuck up."
Sands nodded, as if considering what the man said. He gently tapped the front of his
sunglasses. "No shit. I asked for back up because Cucuy ratted me out and the Cartel was shadowing me. I told my supervisor where I'd be but help never came. Instead Ajedrez, Barillo's daughter came and they drilled out my eyes."
Bradney shook his head. "I don't know about that. I do know that The Company isn't happy that taking out Marquez and the President of Mexico couldn't be handled quietly. Your entire operation is under investigation."
Sheldon nodded. He had already figured that. He was half-surprised that they hadn't arrested him the minute that they had been told that he was back in the United States. He cracked his back. "I guess this is the part where you tell me not to leave the country?"
Bradney nodded. "Yes." He opened his mouth to say something else but Meyers silenced him with a shake of his head. "We'll be in touch Agent Sands."
"Sure."
As Bradney left Sands couldn't help but feel as if he was in the most trouble that he could possibly ever be in.
He tried to open his eyes and automatically knew that something was wrong. He couldn't seem to get them open. He lifted his right hand and with shaky fingers touched the upper part of his face. He felt soft cloth under his fingers. He followed the material and realized that it was wrapped around his head.
You didn't even see it coming, did you. . .
Fortunately for you, nothing you did is worth dying for. You have only seen too much. We are going to make sure this does not happen again.
He clawed at the cloth as the voices of his distorted memories clouded his mind. He could remember everything now, being double-crossed, watching his entire operation go to hell and then having his eyes drilled out.
He'd been in the hospital enough times to know that there had to be a panic or call button near his bed somewhere. With his left hand he felt around until he found the guardrail. He traced the cool metal until he found the cord. He followed the cord until he finger was over the button. He hesitated for just a minute before he pressed it. The buzzing filled the room.
Meyers on the other hand was on his way back to the hospital. After reaching the States he brought Fernando to his room, the child was absolutely exhausted. He wasn't all that surprised that the boy had fallen asleep almost immediately. The boy had been through quite a lot in the last day or two.
After seeing that the child was safely asleep he went to meet with Chuck Bradney and his own supervisor, Richard Mullens. He hated these meetings. They were either so brief that nobody knew what in the hell was going on or they were so long that by the time they finished your ass was numb from sitting in the same spot.
His supervisor had been slightly busy, so the meeting lasted all of 15 minutes. In the end it was decided that the Director of Defense, Chuck Bradney would be 'acting' supervisor. He'd go to the hospital with Meyers and assess the damage that Sands had sustained. They ignored the comment that his injuries would be easy to assess once they were seen.
The drive to the hospital was uneventful. Meyers had tried a couple of times to explain to Bradney what had happened to Sheldon but it was clear that he wasn't going to listen.
Meyers pulled onto the shoulder of the road. "I'm just trying to prepare you for what you're going to see."
Bradney scoffed. "I've been with the Central Intelligence Agency for over 25 years, there isn't much that can be done to an agent that I haven't seen. Quit thinking that I don't know what I'm up against."
Meyers shrugged. If Bradney thought that he had seen 'everything,' then fine. He hated to use his friend’s condition as a shock tactic but Bradney deserved it. "Alright fine." He restarted the car.
As they drove towards the hospital Bradney couldn't help but feel as if he made a mistake. Agent Meyers obviously felt as though Agent Sands' condition was bad. ~Oh well, ~ he thought to himself. ~The worst that there could possibly be would be if he's in a coma and the Cartel had mutilated him beyond recognition.~
Sands on the other hand had grown impatient. The doctors wouldn't let him dress, so he was in a bathrobe with his hospital gown underneath that. Despite their warnings he had removed the bandages and gaze. If he knew Meyers as well as he thought he did, as well as proper protocol in regards to injured and mutilated agents, he had went to The Company and would probably be returning with a supervisor. He would die first, and then have them see him with his face bandaged.
After he had pressed the call button; a Dr. Morris had come in. They were surprised that he was awake and relieved that he was coherent. After all, he had been through a very traumatic experience. They had been worried that it would have been too much and that his mind might have collapsed.
Sheldon chuckled humourlessly to himself. He was Sheldon Jeffrey Sands. He was mentally unstable to begin with (and of course he knew that); he had to be for half the shit he pulled. It would take a little more than getting his eyes gouged out to make his mind fall apart.
He was grateful just the same when the hospital provided him with a pair of sunglasses. They were still on the table. He had to disinfect his "eyes" before putting the glasses on his face. He stood up and waited for the darkness to stop moving. Once everything was still he slowly made his way to the bathroom. As he felt along the wall until he hit the bathroom door; he concluded that being blind sucked. While he was in the bathroom attending to his body's needs, both Meyers and Bradney came in.
"Shel?"
Sheldon froze at the sink where he was washing his hands. As requested by the doctors, when he was alone the glasses stayed off. But this meant that he had company and now he was exposed. His dark world was starting to spin again. He could feel the bile rising up in his throat.
"Meyers?" He hated how weak and uncertain he sounded.
"Yeah Sheldon?" He felt bad for his friend. He knew how hard his injury was on him. At first, he thought that maybe Sheldon had lost his bearings.
"You're not alone, are you?"
"No." As he spoke he watched Bradney. The man was studying the room.
At first glance it didn't look like anything out of the ordinary. There was the usual IV bags and things of that nature, although the stand for that was empty. The rail on the bed on the one side was up and the phone was off.
When Meyers had informed him that he was not alone Sands tried not to panic. The Company was never one to waste time; he figured they'd send one of their higher-ranking people there as soon as possible. He just wished that he were more prepared. He could either face the music and go out there with his sockets exposed, or he could get off his pedestal and ask for help.
"Meyers, can you bring the shades on the nightstand to me?" As he spoke he put his cup down. The hospital doctors insisted that he put something akin to eye drops in the cavities that had once been his eyes. The truth was that this had been the first time he had tried to do this on his own. He couldn't stand to touch the holes that he used to see out of. He turned to face the door. His hair fell into his face as he moved.
On the other side of the door Meyers went to the table where the sunglasses were. Bradney thought that the demand for the sunglasses was just Sands being a shit. "Agent Sands, quit the games and schemes. Get out here so we can talk."
~I'm going to freak out.~ He gripped the edge of the sink. ~I'm okay. My name is Sheldon Jeffrey Sands. I work for the Central Intelligence Agency. I throw shapes, I set them up and I watch them fall.~ He mentally repeated this mantra three times before he realized that he was falling. As he fell he swiped the cup and it hit the floor with a dull thud. He banged his head off the counter as he hit the floor. The result was that the people of the other side of the door heard a loud bang.
At the same time that all that happened Fernando walked into the room. He was immediately on edge. There was too much that Sands had been through for him to be comfortable with coming into a roomful of strangers.
Bradney grabbed the sunglasses from Meyers' hand and headed towards the bathroom. Meyers could hardly believe what he was seeing. He knew that Sands would not be happy with that. Bradney opened the bathroom door. Sands was sitting on the floor rubbing his head. The counter and the floor were covered with the liquid that the cup had held. When he heard the door open he sat up straight; not recognizing the pattern of the footfalls or the cologne that the person was wearing.
"Who's there?" He lifted his head to face the intruder. He figured at best he'd have the element of surprise. He smiled wickedly as he heard the gasp; but the smile faded when he realized that his unwanted guest was still there. Worse than that the intruder was handing him his sunglasses. He waited for the sound of a gun being cocked but none came.
"My God Sands. What the hell happened to you?"
Immediately he recognized the voice. It was Defense Director Charles Bradney. He adjusted the glasses on his face. "Mexico." He used the counter to pull himself to his feet. He stepped into the other room and Fernando slipped his hand into Sheldon's.
Bradney ran a hand over his face and looked at Meyers. Meyers raised an eyebrow and shrugged. His expression clearly said ~I tried to tell you.~
Fernando led Sands to the bed. Sands backed up until his heel hit the frame and then he sat. Fernando disappeared into the bathroom. Once re-adjusted and once again on his own turf where he was comfortable he become cocky. Sands 'looked' at the two agents. "What's the word?"
Bradney cleared his throat. "The coup that happened on November 2nd. That was a serious fuck up."
Sands nodded, as if considering what the man said. He gently tapped the front of his
sunglasses. "No shit. I asked for back up because Cucuy ratted me out and the Cartel was shadowing me. I told my supervisor where I'd be but help never came. Instead Ajedrez, Barillo's daughter came and they drilled out my eyes."
Bradney shook his head. "I don't know about that. I do know that The Company isn't happy that taking out Marquez and the President of Mexico couldn't be handled quietly. Your entire operation is under investigation."
Sheldon nodded. He had already figured that. He was half-surprised that they hadn't arrested him the minute that they had been told that he was back in the United States. He cracked his back. "I guess this is the part where you tell me not to leave the country?"
Bradney nodded. "Yes." He opened his mouth to say something else but Meyers silenced him with a shake of his head. "We'll be in touch Agent Sands."
"Sure."
As Bradney left Sands couldn't help but feel as if he was in the most trouble that he could possibly ever be in.
Sign up to rate and review this story