Sands got his wish. He was stationed in Alaska. Thousands of miles from that stinky, pisswater Mexican town, back to the good old motherland. So to speak.
The first thing that struck him when he got off the plane was the smell. It wasn't quite what he'd expected. All those laundry detergents, he thought, touting Glacier Springs and Northern Mountain Scent... if they really wanted to be authentic, they should be called Diesel Fuel And Dead Fucking Fish.
A taxi took him to a motel that was exactly the same as every other hotel he'd ever been in, only this time he didn't bother turning on the lights.
The coffee was all right, the reuben was absymal, and nobody had ever heard of Yucatan-style pork, so he didn't bother asking. He suffered through his sandwich and thought himself heroic.
The cafe owner, a large woman who dragged her left foot, shuffled over to him to refill his coffee. "You doing all right, there?" she asked with a mothering note. He sniffed but didn't reply. There was a bigger drug problem in Alaska than you'd think, but honestly, he was finally starting to entertain the idea that the boys in the Shop didn't like him very much at all. That was all right. He didn't like them either. Everyone hating each other was just like everyone getting along. It was balanced. He was comfortable with that. There was no odd-man-out.
The fact that he was, in fact, the odd-man-out never broke the surface of his consciousness, and he was able to drink his coffee in relative peace.
"I heard some talk in town," the woman said, leaning in closer. He could smell her shampoo and bacon breath. Lovely. "It's not my business to pry, but in fact, we're pretty honored to have you, mister."
"Are you getting at something?" he asked her, lifting his head from his thoughts.
"Well," she said, and dropped her voice, "I heard you're CIA." she let it hang between them.
Sands leaned fractionally closer. "That's interesting," he replied, his voice bright. He stood up abruptly. "Because you were sorely misinformed. I am, in fact, with the circus." and he removed his sunglasses.
She gasped and whacked her elbow on the counter as she backed away hurriedly. Sands was grinning.
"Hey!" he said cheerily, "I'm winking! But you can't tell! Ha, ha!"
He dropped a ten on the counter and found the door. Behind him, the woman didn't move.
She made change from his ten, sure he would be back for it. Two days later, he was, minus the cost of a pack of bubblegum.