Chapter 6

Authors Note: Thanks to all who've reviewed, really, it makes my day to come home and see review alerts in the email. Yay. The story could at this point go in two different directions. They both need to live, obviously, for now so. . . well anyway let me stop writing about what could happen and type the story. . .

Authors Note 2: Billy Chambers was the fugitive that Jorge Ramirez made the deal with. Think little white dog, big Texan hat, and a lover of hot-dogs. Yeah, that's Billy Chambers. He was called Snow White by Left Nut if that helps any. . . and I'm a huge dork for knowing that. hahaha.

Billy Chambers was alive? How was that possible? The FBI had called and verified his death, they were quite pleased that it was their corporation that had dealt with the matter. Well, that's the FBI for you, Sable thought, that's why she'd joined the CIA. In this business whomever they killed stayed that way. There were no mistakes and definitely no paper trail. A job completed was, in fact, a job done.

"That's very wise of you," he said rising to one knee on the ground.

"It would be wise of you to not say anything unless we ask you a question," Sable retorted. He was one of the top ten, which in itself was reason for them to take every precaution.

"Yes, it would. However, I'm the one calling the shots so you'd better let me do the asking." His silver shades were tinted and she could see her reflection in the polished lenses.

"And I'm the one with the gun, so I really don't think you're in any position to call. . . shots." Sable continued never believing for a moment that Billy Chambers would make an appearance himself unless it wasn't absolutely necessary.

Sands came over to stand next to her. Sable still didn't know how he'd done it, other than just her basic knowledge that he was one of the best gunmen the CIA had ever known. She could almost imagine the warning glare he would have given her, he didn't want Billy to know his secret.

"So, good old Billy Chambers," Sands smirked. "What brings you out on a miserable day like this?"

"I have some information for you. It's something I know you'll want." Billy said not seeming to care that he'd been shot two times.

How had Sands known it was Chambers? There was no possible way for him to have known! But then again, when dealing with Sands one always had to expect the unexpected, multiply that by about one hundred, and then sit back and wait for events to unfurl.

"Get him up," Sands said motioning with his gun. Sable buried her irritation at the order, took hold of Chambers' uninjured arm and hauled him to his feet. "We're taking him inside for a nice chat."

With Billy's back to Sands, she saw him take an unsteady step forward, shake his head in disgust, then make a measurement-like motion with the gun. Apparently the calculations were right because the barrel of the gun contacted squarely with the lower portion of Billy's back.

"Jesus!" Billy swore, "watch it, will ya?"

Sands pushed the gun more firmly against the well-tailored suit and raised the sunglasses on his face a little higher.

"Start walking," Sands commanded leaving no room to argue. "And try any moves with the gun that's in your pocket and I'll have you six feet under before you can curse the woman that made you."

Sable had known about the gun, that's why she stayed close to his right side. Aside from walking with a heavy limp and not moving his left hand, Billy Chambers showed no signs of pain. She unlocked the door and pushed him forcefully into a chair. Sands walked in and after slamming the door pulled up a seat across from Billy.

"Lets skip the small talk, shall we? What information do you have to share with us?"

"See, first I'm going to need some kind of insurance that you won't turn me over to the CIA. I escaped the FBI this time by pretending to be dead. I want to keep it that way."

"The CIA has no interest in your affairs," Sands lied, "now that we've established that point. . ."

"The man, Jorge Ramirez, has enough leverage to have you taken out of the CIA for good. All of our conversations prove you went against the corporation you work for. Instead of going in to save the president, you were willing to have him killed."

"Just balancing out the system." Sands replied, "all in a days work. How are you going to contact the CIA? Being the treacherous murderer that you are, I mean."

"Just like you, eh? Two peas in a pod." Billy chuckled.

"I don't think so." Sands crossed his leg over his knee and relaxed into the chair, "because I wouldn't hesitate to kill you, information or not."

"Is that so," Chambers stood and brushed off his coat importantly. "So when I leave you're going to kill me? After I decide to help you out? You wouldn't dare."

Sands smiled hospitably and clapped Billy on the shoulder, "You're right. Secret's safe with me. Go back to doing what you do best. . . and don't be a stranger."

Sable rolled her eyes as he walked Chambers to the door. She watched him tip his hat in farewell and step outside. Now here's where the excitement would start, Sable yawned and mentally bid Chambers goodbye.

"Oh and Billy," he turned around directly into Sands line of fire, "don't worry about pretending to be dead."

A gunshot was fired, then another one and the next thing Chambers saw was the ground coming up to meet him. One more shot and it was all over. Sands placed the gun back into the holster and nudged Billy in the ribs with his foot.

"Now that's how to kill someone. Shoot them, shoot them again, then after they're dead shoot them once more to make sure they never come back. Oh, don't forget, the driving them to a remote location where their death can't haunt you. Sable?"

Sable got out three beers and sighed heavily. Moving a dead body, just what she'd always wanted to do. Great. Not to mention the crap car that had it's windows blown, the new ventilation along the driver's door, how pleasant.

The CIA owed her overtime compensation for this, for the rental and the disposing of a fugitive's body. . . they damned straight would pay up. She slammed the door and grabbed the other half of Chambers' body. He'd better not leave any blood in the trunk.

Authors Note 3: I know that I left a lot of things unadressed. I promise to get to them in the next chapter. Concerning Billy's lack of pain, Sands' ignoring of the pain, and why Sable has been so quiet. There are a lot more and as I re-edit my stories. . . well, suffice to say that the next chapter will explain everything.