Categories > Movies > Once Upon a Time in Mexico > Darkness
Sheldon knew, as he sat on his bed, that the CIA would want to debrief him as soon as the hospital gave the okay. That being said he was trying to think up as many half-truths as he could. It had been his experience then if he told half-truths, they were usually more believable then the whole truth.
A knock on the door of his room jolted him out of his thoughts. He was going to be released from the hospital the next day. It was sooner then the doctors would have liked. Sheldon figured that life wasn't fair and that was just something that Dr. Fuckmook was going to learn the hard way.
He knew (deep down) that it was to soon to leave the hospital. He still wasn't used to living life as a blind man. There were every day tasks that he still needed help with. But the fact was, if he stayed in the hospital, he wasn't doing anything to clear his name. He knew that it was too late to salvage his career that was ended on November 2nd, when Barillo stole his sight.
Anyway, he was jolted out of his thoughts of how fucked up his situation was becoming when someone knocked on his door. "Come in."
Meyers walked in. He didn't say anything at first. When he had signed into the visitor's log, they said that he should try to get Sheldon to recognize him by his walk and his scent, not voice.
"Who's there?" He was sitting straight, sunglasses on and his head was slightly cocked to the left. It was clear to him that his visitor wasn't going to speak. He did the one thing that came to him on reflex; he reached for his gun. He stopped when he felt the brush of cold metal against his skin. It took less than 20 seconds for him to realize that it was a gun.
He put his hands up, in a gesture of compliance. "Okay. What do you want?" The gun was cocked and Sands was trying to think of what his 'visitor' could possibly want. There was very little that he could come up with that was plausible. If it were an enemy they would have killed him by now. That meant that the person had to be from The Company.
He tried to quell his panic and concentrate on what was in front of him. There was a cologne that the man was wearing, it reminded him of something but he couldn't pin it. Then there was the way the man was breathing. His inhale had a slight whistle, there was only one man that he knew of that had that particular nasal problem. He smiled at his own conclusion. "Meyers."
The safety was replaced on the gun. It was lowered. "Very good."
Sands seemed to relax once he realized that he had guessed correctly. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm going to place a box on your lap. There are things in it that The Company thinks that you might find useful." Meyers watched as Sands felt for the lid of the box and carefully lifted it. The first item he pulled out was square and semi-heavy. As he ran his fingers over the top, he found a large button and pressed it. An automated voice sounded and it made him jump slightly.
Eleven AM
Sands cocked an eyebrow. "A talking alarm clock?"
Meyers shrugged. "Even blind guys have to get up in the morning."
The next item that he pulled out, he had a hard time trying to figure out. It had legs, like glasses, a bridge and wide lenses. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and his forehead creased on concentration. "I give up. What the fuck is it?"
Meyers chuckled. "They're sunglasses. The Company had them specially made to fit your face. They'll fit snuggly onto your face. Anyone would try to look at your….injury wouldn't be able to see under the glasses. Here." He removed Sheldon's glasses. He cringed as Sheldon winced and looked down. As Meyers moved Sands' hair out of the way and lifted his head so that he could place the glasses on, he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.
He remembered when he first met Sheldon. When he had first met Sheldon, they were both training to be officers for the Central Intelligence Agency of America. They had been paired together for study partners. Those had been the best four weeks of his existence. He had found it difficult to concentrate because he kept getting lost in Sands' dark brown eyes.
Now he was cringing. Instead of taking off the sunglasses and falling into warm chocolate brown eyes, he took off the sunglasses and fell into a dark, black unforgiving abyss.
Sands felt exposed; he always did without something covering his eyeless sockets. He cleared his throat. "Meyers?"
The man was suddenly brought back to reality. He muttered his apology as he realized that he had been daydreaming, lost in his own thoughts instead of paying attention to his original task. He slipped the new glasses on his friend's face.
With that done Sheldon realized there were still two items left in the box. The first, it turned out was an easy-to-read Braille book. The last item was a blind stick. He wasn't thrilled about either one but knew that both were a necessity. Sheldon stood. "I appreciate you coming by but there are a ton of things that I need to do before I can breathe."
Meyers knew that now as it was going to get. "The Company has pulled your status. They want to debrief you still but as of 0400 this morning you went from Agent Sands to Mr. Sands."
Sands put his perfected poker face back on. Meyers knew that this was not good.
"No need to worry. You might have been officially pulled but I haven't. I'll be your eyes at the office. If there's anything out of place going on you'll know about it."
"You don't have to…" Sands got cut off.
"It's The Company's fault that you had your eyes drilled out. They can't just cover it up and leave you be. They need to take responsibility for once. You should start preparing yourself; they will be here to debrief you in less than an hour."
Sheldon heard the door close and he knew that he was alone. He brushed his hair and teeth in the bathroom. He smoothed out his shirt and made sure that his shoes were tied. After that he spent the rest of his time practicing walking with his stick. Never being one to take things slow there was a reason he was one of the CIA's top agents. He was above average intelligence. This meant that when it came to quick thinking, making up plans and foreseeing problems, learning new skills and languages he was superb. He was a master manipulator. All these things combined explained why he was completely at ease with his cane in under a half an hour. He fixed his glasses and went through his half-truths and schemes. There was a knock on the door. He carefully walked over to the door, tapping his cane as he went and opened it.
Bradney looked at the man standing in front of him. It was strange; Collins was saying that Sands never called him. That he had sabotaged his own mission. If Collins could see with his own eyes if Sands had sabotaged his own mission the price he had paid was permanent.
"Are you ready Sheldon?"
Sands leaned on his stick and sighed. This was not going to go well and he knew it. "I'm as ready as I'm going to be." Bradney took his elbow and lead him out to the car. They were silent during the car ride there. Bradney didn't bother trying to cajole him into a conversation.
Sands was not easily intimidated. However, when they stepped out of the car he realized that he was definitely in over his head. When they were out of the car he waited. It took Bradney a minute to realize what he was waiting for. He walked over to where Sands stood, grabbed his elbow and lead him into the building. When they first started walking Sands let Bradney lead completely. He knew that The Company's compound consisted of one of eight buildings and he was unsure as to which one he was in. His confidence began to grow when he realized that he recognized the buildings layout, they were in the main building. He knew this one like the back of his hand. After passing three doors the two stopped walking and he wasn't sure why, until he heard footsteps approaching them.
Sands noticed just from the footsteps alone that it had to be a woman. The way the heel hit the ground; it made an echo like pumps. As the footsteps drew closer, he realized that the owner was also wearing perfume. It was a scent that he recognized but couldn't place, that was until she spoke.
"Sheldon Sands."
He seemed to be looking right at her. "Mia Mills."
Bradney was surprised. He knew that when it came to debriefing agents The Company preferred that they not know each other. This was just to eliminate the human element; no emotion, no sympathy, less to clean up later. "You know her?"
Sheldon turned his head slightly so that he was 'looking' at Chuck. "Yeah. When we first started out, we were partners. She was the first and last partner that I was ever assigned. The Company figured out that I worked better alone." He turned his attention back to Mia. "Are we ready to get this over with?"
"Sure."
Sands briefly turned back to Chuck. "You'll be here when we finish?"
"Of course."
Mia started walking and Sands followed the sound of her footsteps. As they walked to the room Mia figured that Sands was being dramatic. She knew that he had to know the trouble that he was in and the charges that were being placed against him. This blind act of his was probably a ploy for sympathy. If it was, he had sunk to a whole new low. All the same she figured that she'd play along.
Once they were in the correct room she led him to the table. She even pulled his chair out for him. "Would you like anything before we start?"
He produced a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his jacket pocket. "Yeah. Coffee and an ashtray." Within a few minutes both items were placed in front of him.
She sat across from him and pressed the record button on the taping device that was on the table. "For the record please state your name, number and where you were stationed."
He lit a cigarette. "Former Central Intelligence Agent Sheldon Jeffrey Sands. 823418. Mexico."
She was surprised that he had known that his status had been pulled. She was sure that Jordan Collins, his supervisor, hadn't told him. Collins would have had no reason to tell him. "What day was the coup attempted?"
"November 2nd, the Day of the Dead." He took a drag of his cigarette. He placed his left hand on the table until it collided with the ashtray. He tapped the ashes into it then he placed the cigarette into the holder on the side. He moved his left hand further until it met with the cup of coffee. He felt the cup until he found the handle and lifted the cup to his lips. The coffee was strong and at the moment, it was exactly what he wanted.
Mia thought that he was taking this act of his a bit too far. She was half tempted to shut the tape recorder off and ask him what the hell he was doing. She knew that she couldn't do that. "What caused your mission to fail?"
He picked up his cigarette and took another drag. "Someone gave me false information on one of the people that I had hired to work underneath me."
"How so?"
"When I had a background check done on Ajedrez; which Collins performed he said that she was clean. It turned out that she was Barillo's daughter. She leaked the information on what we were going to do, to her father. She told him everything. By the time that I figured this out it was too late."
"What happened next?"
He stubbed out his cigarette and lit another one. She noticed that he was shaking. Whatever had happened had left its mark on him.
"Barillo, and his pet surgeon Dr. Hosé Guevera had decided that I hadn't done anything worth dying over, I had just seen too much of their operation. They wanted to make sure that I didn't see anything again."
"Explain."
Sands had been hoping that she would say that. He had noticed that she had been careful not to mention his 'blind' behaviour. He tucked the hair that had fell in front of his face behind his ear. He took a deep breath and removed his sunglasses.
As she looked up she gasped at what she saw looking back at her. "Christ." She muttered.
He continued to face her. He wanted to look down and put the glasses back on but he knew that for the full emphasis of what had happened he needed her to be looking directly at his face and at the damage that had been done. "They drilled out my eyes. After they were done, they made sure that I succeeded in getting out of the building, alive."
She regained her composure. "When it became obvious that your mission was failing, why didn't you call?"
The surprise of her statement registered on his face. "I did. At 1200 hours I had been on the phone with Collins. I had told him that the line had been compromised and that I needed another one. I told him that I'd meet him at The Flying Cow. But when I got there Ajedrez was waiting for me."
She began flipping through the phone records that she had with her. "You don't have that particular phone anymore do you?"
"No, why?"
She sighed. "Well as you know, all of the phone calls that are placed by our field agents are documented. According to all the documents that we have, the last time anyone heard from you was October 25th."
He shook his head. "That's impossible. I called on November 2nd, just before Barillo decided to operate on my face. The cell phone that you want is either at my apartment in Mexico or at the American hospital that I was at."
Mia nodded. "Okay, so our next step will be to find that phone. We'll be in touch. I've been instructed to request that you not leave the country. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
The tape recorder stopped and Sands snubbed out his cigarette. Mia got up from her chair. "Wait here."
When Mia entered the reception area she was surprised to find both Bradney and Meyers were still there. "Sands is done for now."
Meyers nodded and started walking towards the room. Bradney made as if to follow him but Meyers stopped him with a warning glance. If Sheldon had told her everything like he was supposed to then he would be in bad shape. He walked into the room. Sands had his head on the table. "Sands?" He approached the table cautiously. He was dismayed when Sands didn't respond to his name. As he got closer he realized that Sands was shaking. Meyers put his hand on the other man's shoulder. He was almost certain that the other man was crying but with no tears or sound it was hard to tell. "Sheldon?"
Sands squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, reminded himself of who he was and what he had survived. He looked straight ahead not knowing if someone was there. He needed to get his bearings before he faced the darkness again.
"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. I'm living La Vida Loca."
Meyers was a bit worried that Sands wasn't responding to his name. He decided to try again, this time using what Sands had always let him call him. "Jeff?"
Sands cleared his throat. He had been so desperate to get a grip on the darkness that he had let someone get the drop on him. "Jack?" His voice was unsteady. He stood up carefully, took his cane out of his pocket and snapped it together.
"Uh-huh."
"Can we go now?"
"Yes."
He lightly tapped the cane in front of him as he walked. They walked right out of the building and straight out into the parking lot. Once they got to the car Meyers opened Sands' car door for him. As the car door accidentally hit his hand Meyers was sure that the cane was going to go flying under the car. Sands had been smart and had the cane secured to his wrist by the strap. When the door hit him, he just stepped back.
Once they were in the car and driving back towards Sands' apartment, Meyers broke the silence that had seemed deafening. "What the hell happened in there?"
Sands turned his head so it appeared that he was looking at him. "Isn't that obvious? They tried to get inside my head and my defenses kicked in. Although I think I'm in more trouble than I first thought. From what Mia told me Collins is denying that I called him on the Day of the Dead. I think that he's trying to push me towards a nervous or mental breakdown. As we both know if that happens the CIA can place me in a psychiatric facility, where nobody will miss me and they can forget that I exist."
The car stopped. "Do you want me to walk you in?"
Sands grinned at him. "I'm quite capable of getting into my apartment by myself." His eyebrows furrowed. " That is where we are, right?"
Meyers chuckled. "Yeah, I dropped you off at your apartment." As Sands opened the car door, Meyers lightly touched Sheldon's arm. "If Collins was responsible for what went down in Mexico I'll find the proof."
Sands smiled. " I know. Thank you." He shut the door and headed into his apartment building.
Meyers drove home. He knew that he had to figure out a way to get Collins away from his computer long enough for him to search his personal files and see if what he was looking for was there. The fact of the matter was that if they didn't find the evidence then the CIA would do exactly as Sheldon said. They would figure that he had gone rogue and that he needed to be 'taken care of.'
He was worried. That wouldn't be the first time that The Company made one of its agents disappear. It would be relatively easy since the only surviving family that Sands had was his mother. His other worries came from himself and had nothing to do with The Company but focused on Sheldon. His problem was the same problem that he had had while training for the CIA with Sands. He thought that Sheldon was a very beautiful man. The truth was now Sheldon was driving him crazy.
He knew that Sands' world was reduced to sound, taste and touch. Every time Sands touched him, shivers ran a marathon down his spine. Sheldon didn't even know what he was doing to him. Meyers knew that for Sands his sense of touch was his eyes. But it was still difficult. However, that didn't change the fact that he still found Sands attractive. When he was in the debriefing room crying, he had wanted nothing more than to hold him and make all the painful memories go away.
He went to bed that night dreaming of Sands. In his dreams Sands had those warm chocolate brown eyes. In his dreams Mexico had never happened and Sheldon was shivering with pleasure beneath him. When he awoke the next morning he had to change his pajamas as well as his sheets.
A knock on the door of his room jolted him out of his thoughts. He was going to be released from the hospital the next day. It was sooner then the doctors would have liked. Sheldon figured that life wasn't fair and that was just something that Dr. Fuckmook was going to learn the hard way.
He knew (deep down) that it was to soon to leave the hospital. He still wasn't used to living life as a blind man. There were every day tasks that he still needed help with. But the fact was, if he stayed in the hospital, he wasn't doing anything to clear his name. He knew that it was too late to salvage his career that was ended on November 2nd, when Barillo stole his sight.
Anyway, he was jolted out of his thoughts of how fucked up his situation was becoming when someone knocked on his door. "Come in."
Meyers walked in. He didn't say anything at first. When he had signed into the visitor's log, they said that he should try to get Sheldon to recognize him by his walk and his scent, not voice.
"Who's there?" He was sitting straight, sunglasses on and his head was slightly cocked to the left. It was clear to him that his visitor wasn't going to speak. He did the one thing that came to him on reflex; he reached for his gun. He stopped when he felt the brush of cold metal against his skin. It took less than 20 seconds for him to realize that it was a gun.
He put his hands up, in a gesture of compliance. "Okay. What do you want?" The gun was cocked and Sands was trying to think of what his 'visitor' could possibly want. There was very little that he could come up with that was plausible. If it were an enemy they would have killed him by now. That meant that the person had to be from The Company.
He tried to quell his panic and concentrate on what was in front of him. There was a cologne that the man was wearing, it reminded him of something but he couldn't pin it. Then there was the way the man was breathing. His inhale had a slight whistle, there was only one man that he knew of that had that particular nasal problem. He smiled at his own conclusion. "Meyers."
The safety was replaced on the gun. It was lowered. "Very good."
Sands seemed to relax once he realized that he had guessed correctly. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm going to place a box on your lap. There are things in it that The Company thinks that you might find useful." Meyers watched as Sands felt for the lid of the box and carefully lifted it. The first item he pulled out was square and semi-heavy. As he ran his fingers over the top, he found a large button and pressed it. An automated voice sounded and it made him jump slightly.
Eleven AM
Sands cocked an eyebrow. "A talking alarm clock?"
Meyers shrugged. "Even blind guys have to get up in the morning."
The next item that he pulled out, he had a hard time trying to figure out. It had legs, like glasses, a bridge and wide lenses. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and his forehead creased on concentration. "I give up. What the fuck is it?"
Meyers chuckled. "They're sunglasses. The Company had them specially made to fit your face. They'll fit snuggly onto your face. Anyone would try to look at your….injury wouldn't be able to see under the glasses. Here." He removed Sheldon's glasses. He cringed as Sheldon winced and looked down. As Meyers moved Sands' hair out of the way and lifted his head so that he could place the glasses on, he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.
He remembered when he first met Sheldon. When he had first met Sheldon, they were both training to be officers for the Central Intelligence Agency of America. They had been paired together for study partners. Those had been the best four weeks of his existence. He had found it difficult to concentrate because he kept getting lost in Sands' dark brown eyes.
Now he was cringing. Instead of taking off the sunglasses and falling into warm chocolate brown eyes, he took off the sunglasses and fell into a dark, black unforgiving abyss.
Sands felt exposed; he always did without something covering his eyeless sockets. He cleared his throat. "Meyers?"
The man was suddenly brought back to reality. He muttered his apology as he realized that he had been daydreaming, lost in his own thoughts instead of paying attention to his original task. He slipped the new glasses on his friend's face.
With that done Sheldon realized there were still two items left in the box. The first, it turned out was an easy-to-read Braille book. The last item was a blind stick. He wasn't thrilled about either one but knew that both were a necessity. Sheldon stood. "I appreciate you coming by but there are a ton of things that I need to do before I can breathe."
Meyers knew that now as it was going to get. "The Company has pulled your status. They want to debrief you still but as of 0400 this morning you went from Agent Sands to Mr. Sands."
Sands put his perfected poker face back on. Meyers knew that this was not good.
"No need to worry. You might have been officially pulled but I haven't. I'll be your eyes at the office. If there's anything out of place going on you'll know about it."
"You don't have to…" Sands got cut off.
"It's The Company's fault that you had your eyes drilled out. They can't just cover it up and leave you be. They need to take responsibility for once. You should start preparing yourself; they will be here to debrief you in less than an hour."
Sheldon heard the door close and he knew that he was alone. He brushed his hair and teeth in the bathroom. He smoothed out his shirt and made sure that his shoes were tied. After that he spent the rest of his time practicing walking with his stick. Never being one to take things slow there was a reason he was one of the CIA's top agents. He was above average intelligence. This meant that when it came to quick thinking, making up plans and foreseeing problems, learning new skills and languages he was superb. He was a master manipulator. All these things combined explained why he was completely at ease with his cane in under a half an hour. He fixed his glasses and went through his half-truths and schemes. There was a knock on the door. He carefully walked over to the door, tapping his cane as he went and opened it.
Bradney looked at the man standing in front of him. It was strange; Collins was saying that Sands never called him. That he had sabotaged his own mission. If Collins could see with his own eyes if Sands had sabotaged his own mission the price he had paid was permanent.
"Are you ready Sheldon?"
Sands leaned on his stick and sighed. This was not going to go well and he knew it. "I'm as ready as I'm going to be." Bradney took his elbow and lead him out to the car. They were silent during the car ride there. Bradney didn't bother trying to cajole him into a conversation.
Sands was not easily intimidated. However, when they stepped out of the car he realized that he was definitely in over his head. When they were out of the car he waited. It took Bradney a minute to realize what he was waiting for. He walked over to where Sands stood, grabbed his elbow and lead him into the building. When they first started walking Sands let Bradney lead completely. He knew that The Company's compound consisted of one of eight buildings and he was unsure as to which one he was in. His confidence began to grow when he realized that he recognized the buildings layout, they were in the main building. He knew this one like the back of his hand. After passing three doors the two stopped walking and he wasn't sure why, until he heard footsteps approaching them.
Sands noticed just from the footsteps alone that it had to be a woman. The way the heel hit the ground; it made an echo like pumps. As the footsteps drew closer, he realized that the owner was also wearing perfume. It was a scent that he recognized but couldn't place, that was until she spoke.
"Sheldon Sands."
He seemed to be looking right at her. "Mia Mills."
Bradney was surprised. He knew that when it came to debriefing agents The Company preferred that they not know each other. This was just to eliminate the human element; no emotion, no sympathy, less to clean up later. "You know her?"
Sheldon turned his head slightly so that he was 'looking' at Chuck. "Yeah. When we first started out, we were partners. She was the first and last partner that I was ever assigned. The Company figured out that I worked better alone." He turned his attention back to Mia. "Are we ready to get this over with?"
"Sure."
Sands briefly turned back to Chuck. "You'll be here when we finish?"
"Of course."
Mia started walking and Sands followed the sound of her footsteps. As they walked to the room Mia figured that Sands was being dramatic. She knew that he had to know the trouble that he was in and the charges that were being placed against him. This blind act of his was probably a ploy for sympathy. If it was, he had sunk to a whole new low. All the same she figured that she'd play along.
Once they were in the correct room she led him to the table. She even pulled his chair out for him. "Would you like anything before we start?"
He produced a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his jacket pocket. "Yeah. Coffee and an ashtray." Within a few minutes both items were placed in front of him.
She sat across from him and pressed the record button on the taping device that was on the table. "For the record please state your name, number and where you were stationed."
He lit a cigarette. "Former Central Intelligence Agent Sheldon Jeffrey Sands. 823418. Mexico."
She was surprised that he had known that his status had been pulled. She was sure that Jordan Collins, his supervisor, hadn't told him. Collins would have had no reason to tell him. "What day was the coup attempted?"
"November 2nd, the Day of the Dead." He took a drag of his cigarette. He placed his left hand on the table until it collided with the ashtray. He tapped the ashes into it then he placed the cigarette into the holder on the side. He moved his left hand further until it met with the cup of coffee. He felt the cup until he found the handle and lifted the cup to his lips. The coffee was strong and at the moment, it was exactly what he wanted.
Mia thought that he was taking this act of his a bit too far. She was half tempted to shut the tape recorder off and ask him what the hell he was doing. She knew that she couldn't do that. "What caused your mission to fail?"
He picked up his cigarette and took another drag. "Someone gave me false information on one of the people that I had hired to work underneath me."
"How so?"
"When I had a background check done on Ajedrez; which Collins performed he said that she was clean. It turned out that she was Barillo's daughter. She leaked the information on what we were going to do, to her father. She told him everything. By the time that I figured this out it was too late."
"What happened next?"
He stubbed out his cigarette and lit another one. She noticed that he was shaking. Whatever had happened had left its mark on him.
"Barillo, and his pet surgeon Dr. Hosé Guevera had decided that I hadn't done anything worth dying over, I had just seen too much of their operation. They wanted to make sure that I didn't see anything again."
"Explain."
Sands had been hoping that she would say that. He had noticed that she had been careful not to mention his 'blind' behaviour. He tucked the hair that had fell in front of his face behind his ear. He took a deep breath and removed his sunglasses.
As she looked up she gasped at what she saw looking back at her. "Christ." She muttered.
He continued to face her. He wanted to look down and put the glasses back on but he knew that for the full emphasis of what had happened he needed her to be looking directly at his face and at the damage that had been done. "They drilled out my eyes. After they were done, they made sure that I succeeded in getting out of the building, alive."
She regained her composure. "When it became obvious that your mission was failing, why didn't you call?"
The surprise of her statement registered on his face. "I did. At 1200 hours I had been on the phone with Collins. I had told him that the line had been compromised and that I needed another one. I told him that I'd meet him at The Flying Cow. But when I got there Ajedrez was waiting for me."
She began flipping through the phone records that she had with her. "You don't have that particular phone anymore do you?"
"No, why?"
She sighed. "Well as you know, all of the phone calls that are placed by our field agents are documented. According to all the documents that we have, the last time anyone heard from you was October 25th."
He shook his head. "That's impossible. I called on November 2nd, just before Barillo decided to operate on my face. The cell phone that you want is either at my apartment in Mexico or at the American hospital that I was at."
Mia nodded. "Okay, so our next step will be to find that phone. We'll be in touch. I've been instructed to request that you not leave the country. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
The tape recorder stopped and Sands snubbed out his cigarette. Mia got up from her chair. "Wait here."
When Mia entered the reception area she was surprised to find both Bradney and Meyers were still there. "Sands is done for now."
Meyers nodded and started walking towards the room. Bradney made as if to follow him but Meyers stopped him with a warning glance. If Sheldon had told her everything like he was supposed to then he would be in bad shape. He walked into the room. Sands had his head on the table. "Sands?" He approached the table cautiously. He was dismayed when Sands didn't respond to his name. As he got closer he realized that Sands was shaking. Meyers put his hand on the other man's shoulder. He was almost certain that the other man was crying but with no tears or sound it was hard to tell. "Sheldon?"
Sands squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, reminded himself of who he was and what he had survived. He looked straight ahead not knowing if someone was there. He needed to get his bearings before he faced the darkness again.
"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. I'm living La Vida Loca."
Meyers was a bit worried that Sands wasn't responding to his name. He decided to try again, this time using what Sands had always let him call him. "Jeff?"
Sands cleared his throat. He had been so desperate to get a grip on the darkness that he had let someone get the drop on him. "Jack?" His voice was unsteady. He stood up carefully, took his cane out of his pocket and snapped it together.
"Uh-huh."
"Can we go now?"
"Yes."
He lightly tapped the cane in front of him as he walked. They walked right out of the building and straight out into the parking lot. Once they got to the car Meyers opened Sands' car door for him. As the car door accidentally hit his hand Meyers was sure that the cane was going to go flying under the car. Sands had been smart and had the cane secured to his wrist by the strap. When the door hit him, he just stepped back.
Once they were in the car and driving back towards Sands' apartment, Meyers broke the silence that had seemed deafening. "What the hell happened in there?"
Sands turned his head so it appeared that he was looking at him. "Isn't that obvious? They tried to get inside my head and my defenses kicked in. Although I think I'm in more trouble than I first thought. From what Mia told me Collins is denying that I called him on the Day of the Dead. I think that he's trying to push me towards a nervous or mental breakdown. As we both know if that happens the CIA can place me in a psychiatric facility, where nobody will miss me and they can forget that I exist."
The car stopped. "Do you want me to walk you in?"
Sands grinned at him. "I'm quite capable of getting into my apartment by myself." His eyebrows furrowed. " That is where we are, right?"
Meyers chuckled. "Yeah, I dropped you off at your apartment." As Sands opened the car door, Meyers lightly touched Sheldon's arm. "If Collins was responsible for what went down in Mexico I'll find the proof."
Sands smiled. " I know. Thank you." He shut the door and headed into his apartment building.
Meyers drove home. He knew that he had to figure out a way to get Collins away from his computer long enough for him to search his personal files and see if what he was looking for was there. The fact of the matter was that if they didn't find the evidence then the CIA would do exactly as Sheldon said. They would figure that he had gone rogue and that he needed to be 'taken care of.'
He was worried. That wouldn't be the first time that The Company made one of its agents disappear. It would be relatively easy since the only surviving family that Sands had was his mother. His other worries came from himself and had nothing to do with The Company but focused on Sheldon. His problem was the same problem that he had had while training for the CIA with Sands. He thought that Sheldon was a very beautiful man. The truth was now Sheldon was driving him crazy.
He knew that Sands' world was reduced to sound, taste and touch. Every time Sands touched him, shivers ran a marathon down his spine. Sheldon didn't even know what he was doing to him. Meyers knew that for Sands his sense of touch was his eyes. But it was still difficult. However, that didn't change the fact that he still found Sands attractive. When he was in the debriefing room crying, he had wanted nothing more than to hold him and make all the painful memories go away.
He went to bed that night dreaming of Sands. In his dreams Sands had those warm chocolate brown eyes. In his dreams Mexico had never happened and Sheldon was shivering with pleasure beneath him. When he awoke the next morning he had to change his pajamas as well as his sheets.
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