Creative Sportsmanship
Megan@Midnight
Crossover with Angel: the Series. Spoilers for season 5 and Once Upon a Time in Mexico. Sequel to Balance. Time for a little action.
"Set them up, watch them fall. Set them up, watch them fall." Sands tapped a green pen rapidly on his desk. A cheap ring bound notebook slid across the smooth, dark, mahogany surface. Sands flipped through the pages quickly, running through his notes. He wasn't much for traditional blue or black, and his scribbled notes ran through green to purple, to a nice dark red. He preferred the red, but an annoying blond ghost had startled him and his red pen was now residing somewhere under the heavy wooden desk. His purple pen was sitting by the closed door where he thrown it at Spike's back as the ghost vampire made his escape.
Sheldon Sands was plotting. It was a rainy day, so instead of walking L.A. he'd decided to stay in and work. So to speak. He was wearing his white C.I.A t-shirt and blue jeans. And tapping his one remaining pen on his notes. "Well, this is royally fucked up." It turned out that a lot of the people he'd have liked to have killed were already dead. It was almost disappointing. "If I weren't in such a good mood, I think I'd be royally pissed off." He picks up the phone and starts to make some phone calls.
It took three days before the bait (a.k.a him) brings results. A hint in the right places, rumors of a blind man in Los Angeles California who looked remarkably like a certain missing CIA agent who had been presumed dead in the recent unpleasantness. Even Sands was impressed by the speed their agent arrived in his city. "Want some company, pet?" Spike asks as he walks out the door.
Sheldon smiles at him as he leaves. "Fuck off, Spike."
The bar was a bit darker than Sands would have like though that could have been from the sunglasses. His newly acquired cane leaned against the back of his chair. He waits until the agent is nearly standing on top of him. "Right here, fuckmook." Sands has to control a smile as the agent jumps a good foot and spins around, pulling his gun. He's not supposed to be able to see it and he's having little trouble remembering it. The sunglasses bring it all back.
"Sands!" The other agent stares at the man in front of him in shock. " I thought you were dead."
Sands smiles coldly. "That was what was supposed to happen, wasn't it? Leave me on my own in the middle of a coup d'état and let Barillo do the dirty work for you."
"Of course not. We knew you could handle yourself." The other agent says smoothly and sits across from him.
"I could." Sands says. "I was. Until a stone cold bitch turned me over to her daddy. That fucker Barillo. Said I was the man who saw things. Too many things. So he took my eyes." Sands tapped his shades, the black lenses reflecting blankly at the man sitting across from him. "He took my fucking eyes right out of my head!" The other man blanches in horror. Looks at the shades and the cane, and Sands' furious face. Starts to reach for his gun. Realizes that no matter how dangerous this man used to be, now he's only a maimed, mad, blind man. Who has both his arms in sight. Nothing to worry about. He relaxes back into his chair. Sands has to suppress another little smile. "So what's the plan now? Drag the failed, disfigured CIA Agent back home, lock him away from everything, throw away the key?"
"Of course not. They just want to talk with you. You know how it is. Debrief you, try to figure out what happened to our operation down in Mexico." The other agent keeps his voice smooth, but even if Sands hadn't expected the bullshit, the other man wasn't schooling his face at all. He thought the man across from him could see so he was letting every little thing show through. Sands was going to be doing the CIA a favor killing this idiot.
"I know what when wrong. I was betrayed on both sides, lost my eyes and got shot a few times for my trouble." He smiles across the table, "I killed that bitch Ajedrez. The got Barillo. So that's covered. All that's leftAre the people who were supposed to be covering my back." Sands moves his right hand smoothly in front of the other man. "That would be you and yours. Savvy?"
"Sands…" The man looks worried now. He's heard the stories. Sands is a legend in CIA circles. They said they sent the man down to Mexico because they were afraid if left in the U.S. he'd be running the CIA. There was no denying the man's brilliance in dangerous circles. The CIA agent is suddenly thinking back to all the stories, and realizing that even blind Sands might be a threat. "It wasn't like that."
"Funny, it sure seemed like that as I was having my eyes removed!" Sands snapped. "In Mexico I was trying to keep things balanced. I like things balanced. Now I'm out of balance and I mean to fix that."
The agent laughed. "Are you threatening me? What were you planning to do, Sands? Beat me with you little cane? If you haven't noticed, you are blind."
Sands smiles. "I never said that. I said Barillo took my eyes. Right out of my head."
"Which puts you into the blind category, Sands. No eyes, no vision"
"He took my eyes." Sands puts his right hand on his shades. His left hasn't moved once during the whole exchange. "My vision is fine." He pulls off his sunglasses. "Do you think the blue is me?" He says as the other man gapes at him. Too late, far too late, the agent goes for his gun. Sands shoots him three times from under table. "Dumbass little fucker." Sands says as he takes off his arm and puts it away. "Hope the next one makes it a little more interesting."
When he gets home Spike asks "Have fun?"
Sheldon Sands grins. "Oh yeah."
Well he finally go to shoot someone who deserved it.