Title: Sweet Surrender
Author: Carla
E-mail: moviebuff001@yahoo.com
Homepage:
Rating: R for language, violence and sexuality
Summary: Alex Krycek and Sandra meet up again, learning more about each other and
especially Sandra's past.
Notes: This is part of the In a World called Catastrophe series, this is the 2nd one. Read An Ode
to Maybe first.
Chapter 6
Sandra shifted sides for the billionth time that night but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't fall asleep. Of course her day had been sort of strange and there were only about a million questions and problems running through her head but physically she was exhausted. She figured the physical exertion was from healing the gun shot wound, as she felt like someone had shot her.
But in a way someone had.
Once again, she had been ditched, granted it was a stupid misconception that she had anything with Alex. She'd admit it, she had wished that after Alex had woken up, he would have stayed with her...for at least a couple of days.
Sandra shifted again, she was being such a schoolgirl! The only reason she had such a crush, yes a crush, on Alex Krycek was the attraction to the dark mystery of him, she was sure that if he was a shoe salesmen or something, there'd be no appeal.
Sure...and monkey's routinely flew out of her ass.
She was on the third repetition of 'King Henry the Eighth I am,' when Sandra felt something hit her face and heard glass shatter beside her. She turned to see her window smash as a black figure swing through it on a rope. In the brief time Sandra had, she assessed the intruder, by his built and height, she assumed it was a man. He was clothed all in back, including a black face mask and was holding a large machine gun.
Sandra got up as quickly as she could but she wasn't fast enough, she felt a bullet hit her shoulder, throwing her body across the bed. Her shoulder burned and her head was reeling in pain but she dove for cover before another one of the bullets flying through air, caught her. She hid best she could behind the bed, only a few feet backwards and she could get to the bathroom.
She grabbed the closest thing to her, a lamp, and heaved it at the attacking figure. Surprisingly, it knocked his gun away, giving Sandra enough time to run for the bathroom.
Only once she had closed and locked the door, did she realize this wasn't the best idea. Now she was stuck without even a window to jump from. She desperately scanned the room, her eyes falling on the shower head, it was an extremely ugly but with an extraordinarily long hose attached to the shower head.
She turned the shower head's pressure to the highest setting and turned on the water almost as soon as the bathroom door blasted open. Bullet's shattered the mirror and punched holes in the walls as Sandra sprayed the intruder, hoping to at least distract him. She quickly, mostly without her conscious knowledge, kicked the gun from his hand and caught it before it fell to the ground. She knocked him in the head with the shower head and held the gun shakily on him.
The man stopped moving and stared at her, as if daring her to shoot him. Sandra hardly had anytime to think before she felt her arm slamming the gun across the man's head, rendering him unconscious.
Not wanting to take the chance that he'd wake up, Sandra ran to her closet and grabbed her emergency bag and ran out the front door.
She ran steadily for a good five blocks, weaving her way through alleys and streets before finding a pay phone. She dialed the number of a cab company, promising an extra fifty dollars if they got there in the next five minutes.
While she waited, she hid behind some shrubbery and took an inventory of her bag. Change of clothes, passport under Beth Cramore, a grand in cash, hair dye, a wig, make-up bag...and a gun.
Over the last few months, she had put a lot of work into this bag, hoping to never use it. Then again, this was certainty more fun than working as a waitress.
Almost forgetting about it, Sandra checked her shoulder, where the bullet had hit her. Sure enough, although a hole remained in her shirt and there was a bruise, the wound had closed. Lucky for her, the bullet had exited, otherwise she'd have a big problem explaining to customs why she was setting off the metal detector.
Once in the cab, her heart continued to pound heavily, she checked behind her to see if anyone had followed her. There was a black SUV about a block behind them but its speed wasn't increasing.
"Turn left," she ordered the driver.
"But the airport is the other way."
"Turn left," she growled.
The driver obeyed as Sandra kept her eyes glued to the SUV, it too turned, its speed suddenly increasing. Sandra couldn't see who was in the vehicle but she could tell there were two of them.
The SUV had almost caught up to them, "Speed up."
"Listen lady, if you're in some kind of trouble, I want no part of it."
Looking in the rearview mirror, he saw Sandra stuff a wad of cash at him and move towards the door. "Slow down, then get the hell out of here and DO NOT CALL THE POLICE."
The driver slowed and watched as she jumped out the car door, rolling towards the sidewalk. He shook his head and sped back up, promising himself that he'd take the job working at his father-in-law's car shop.
Sandra got up quickly, ignoring the pain in her arms and legs and dove behind a fence as bullets grazed past her head. The SUV sped past her, marking the fence with their bullets and then it pulled a U-turn.
Sandra checked over her gun. Even if Alex Krycek was an asshole, he'd at least taught her how to work a gun. She took aim, hoping to take out a tire on the vehicle speeding towards her. The bullet missed completely, hitting the passenger side window and took out the man sitting there.
She stared in shock, she'd never killed anyone before, she'd never wanted to but they were trying to kill her. The car sped past her again and Sandra closed her eyes as she shot the gun, sending as many bullets at the driver as fast as she could. She didn't open her eyes until she heard a loud crash, the SUV had collided with a light pole.
Sandra put her back up against the fence, breathing as deeply as she could, to still the panic. She took another deep breath, she couldn't just sit there, she had to get a hold of herself.
And get back to New York.