Chapter 11

"So it's judgment day, eh?" Sands asked as the door closed. The echo of footsteps awoke him and the sound was too heavy to have been a woman's. He could differentiate now, even a heavy-set woman who dragged her feet stepped lighter than a man. There were over a hundred defining features that his sharpened senses picked up.

"Your specialty is manipulation and barter so that's what we're going to do," Arnoldo pulled up a chair.

"Are we," Sands grinned, "You want the psych to come back again, don't you."

"We feel that its essential, regular meetings will be held and in return you'll be able to live on your own in the house you've always lived in."

"Helluva bartering chance for me," Sands crossed his arms, "by barter you meant inform me, right?"

"There aren't many options open at the moment. Dawes is doing everything he can to get you booted from the CIA and once a week with a psychologist will help even the odds."

"I see. So good ol' Zak told you that he thinks I'm a nutcase?" Sands laughed.

"No, this one actually didn't. He said that you had potential, but that you were otherwise a very disturbed, but stable person."

"Hmmm. . . so I riddle with him once a week and I get to stay and piss Dawes off some more?"

"If all goes well," Arnoldo warned.

"And if it doesn't?"

"Then you'll get a nice retirement package. . ." he started to say.

"And a big Fuck You." Sands finished.

"Is it really so much to ask?"

"You didn't ask."

"Oh shit." Arnoldo refrained from sighing as Dawes walked into the room. Sands obviously sensed it because he smirked and withdrew into himself. The bad-ass came out to play.

"You got lucky this time, Sands," he snarled.

"I wasn't privy to that bit of information. Did the nurse do it while I was drugged? She could have waited, I wasn't under any anesthesia."

"Everything's a joke to you isn't it?" Dawes couldn't believe the gall Sands had. He took everything said and fucked around with it until it became distorted and perverted. The man was definitely sick, why was he the only one that saw it?

"Not everything. If she violated my person, if I missed it, more like, some of these nurses can violate me anytime. There's definitely nothing funny about that."

"Anyway," Arnoldo interrupted before a brawl was started, "now that we're all here, we have something else we wish to discuss with you."

"Great."

"We think it would be a worthy effort on your part to learn how to read Braille." Arnoldo said without hesitating.

"I already know how," Sands replied.

"You do?" Dawes looked up in surprise, the dumbass knew how to do something other than fire a gun. "How?"

"Well I put my fingers on the page and-"

"Sands," Arnoldo warned.

"Alright, fine. My stepsister had to learn and I helped her, ok?"

"Family? You never mentioned anything about family." Dawes said. This was getting even more interesting.

"And I never will again, but suffice to say. . . I know how to fucking read Braille." Sands smiled inwardly, the stepsister bit had been a lie, but Arnoldo wanted Dawes to think the psychologist was working his magic.

"Prove it," Dawes pushed a bound book across the table. He took even more pleasure in the annoyance that crossed Sands features.

"Jane and Sue went to the fair," Sands looked up raising his eyebrow. "What the fuck is this? I'm not good enough for nursery rhymes? You know, bring on Humpty Dumpty or Little Bo Peep, but Jane and fucking Sue?"

"Alright! Point taken. We wanted to start with something easy. The CIA handbook wasn't exactly classified as easy." Arnoldo knew it had been a long shot, but there was no end to the surprising things Sands already knew.

"I didn't read that then, either. I've proved that I can read, or feel, more like. Case closed, deal's done."

Dawes rolled his eyes, of course Sands hadn't read the handbook.. Sands hadn't even participated in half of the mandatory classes, if he hadn't been such a crack shot and deadly adversary Dawes would have cheerfully kicked him out of the CIA's lovely polished glass door.

"So you'll accept the terms then?" Arnoldo asked.

"Do I have any choice?" Sands shrugged, "Home sweet home here I come."

"Wait a second. We're letting him go?" Dawes looked at Arnoldo in askance.

"Planning to secretly snipe me?" Sands snorted. "Go ahead."

"We let him go, he goes to the psychologist once a week, and everything progresses as planned."

"What the hell!" Dawes exploded "We-"

"Later," Arnoldo snapped, he'd had enough with Dawes for the moment. The man would have to get over his problem with Sands because he would fight tooth and nail to have Sands remain in the CIA. He was too good to let him get away, not to mention the trouble Sands could cause them should that ever happen.

"We've arranged to have an agent stay with you for a few days until you get your bearings back." Dawes continued, "that is if you want her."

"Afraid I'm going to walk into a wall or something? Die by slitting my throat on a painting?"

"One can only hope," Dawes commented.

"Honestly!" That was the last comment he could take. "The both of you act like children! We're fucking professionals and the only thing the two of you can do is gripe at one another! Get the hell over it!"

"He started it," Sands leered.

"Do you Sable to come with you or not?"

"Well, I need someone to drive me there. Why not her? She's not staying for a sleepover or whatever the hell you offered. No thanks."

"Great. Die then. See you tomorrow." Dawes left the room to go and find her.

"No one will know if she does," Arnoldo relaxed once the main source of agitation was gone.

"I'll know," Sands replied and the tone he said it in booked no arguments.

"You're going to have to ask for help sometime, you know."

"Fuck that." He hadn't asked for help since third grade and wasn't about to start now. Life was a bitch, he dealt with it and took what was given to him with a snide comment and an upraised finger. Why would he start to break now?

"You need a chauffeur?" Sable asked poking her head through the door. "Dawes said that Sands was going home and needed a baby-sitter."

"Yeah well. . ." Sands snarled.

"I told him to fuck off, in the nicest possible way of course." she winked at Arnoldo. "Hurry up then, I want to get home and watch the eight o'clock movie."

Arnoldo was again struck by how perfect everything could go if Sable were left to find out information from Sands. She had obviously gotten to know him during that short period when they were stuck in Mexico. He'd paired them up for certain training exercises, and she was a good match for him. She had the same ruthless qualities that Sands did, the same sarcastic innuendos.

She understood Sands' pride and just when and where to push. Sands would get his back up and would end up doing exactly as she wanted him too, but in return she only expected him to do what he normally would have decided. It was complicated but it seemed to work for them. Besides, Sands gave as good as he got and it probably didn't go past his understanding what she did.

For some reason, though Sands would never admit it to himself, he liked Sable and Zak was right in saying that she was their best bet to get past Sands mental barriers. The only problem was that while Sable was merciless on the battlefield, she had certain morals of her own.

If asked to betray Sands she might quit the whole deal and tell Sands what they were doing. He and Sands had respect for one another, which was the only thing that could be asked of Sands. Things would have to proceed, but carefully. Extremely carefully because when Sable and Sands were involved, the regular amount of chaos was nothing compared to the disaster both of them could wreak.

Sable was ruthless in her own right, she was more subtle about it than Sands was. She would take a mission, kill everyone and then some, clean up, and head out. Sands liked to advertise, his reasoning that he got to kill more people that way. Sable was covert about it, left trails which brought the guys to her door. She'd kill them in self-defense and avoid all the paperwork.

Sands didn't bother with paperwork. Arnoldo had trained them to be the best; quick, efficient, remorseless. He didn't know how either of them would react if they found out he was behind the unraveling of all their training. He knew the two respected him, looked up to him, even, but they both had rules which were never to be broken.

They might come after him, their affection, if it could be called that, would make them hesitate before pulling the trigger, but he'd have a gun pointed in his direction regardless.

Emotions weren't something either of them spent much time contemplating. It made them very good at their job, but incredibly dangerous to cross.