http://sands-in-mexico.livejournal.com/ (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
sands-in-mexico.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
capeandcowllogs2011-02-25 02:41 pm
sands-in-mexico.livejournal.com) wrote in capeandcowllogs2011-02-25 02:41 pm
Entry tags:
Getting back in the Game. [Open]
WHO: Sands as Weaver
WHERE: On a Coppertone billboard on the side of a highway.
WHEN: Friday mid afternoon during lunch rush.
WARNINGS: Violence
SUMMARY: Sniping off arms dealers, Sands got a call to handle a pretty harry assignment and he's the cause of the backup of traffic on HWY 295. Needless to say, the CIA may move him out of the city after this fiasco.
FORMAT: Solo
10 A.M.
Sheldon was sitting in his living room reading the newspaper. The light spilling in from the outside splashed over his floor and tables, cascading the room in various shades. The reflection from his nickle plated .380 sat on the table next to him and cast its light on his face. His cell phone lay next to the gun while Sheldon moved to leave the reflection's gaze to lay long on the couch.
He missed Carmen. Me missed a lot of things but showing that particular weakness to anyone often meant death. Evidence to the contrary he chose his assignments with the highest risk in hopes that he would forget his heart. He hated dwelling and even worse, he hated feeling like the sap. Work was work.
His phone rang. The chirping tone didn't illicit an immediate response from the agent. The third ring came. "Yeah, hello."
"Agent Sands, Wilks is on the move." The voice on the other end of the line said in a flat voice that Sheldon felt the color just drip off his surroundings.
"Copy that. Where is he?" Sands responded in an equally calm and flat tone.
"Check your email." The caller hung up the phone.
Sands put the phone back on the cradle and moved to his computer with the secured connection. The encryption protocols often kept Sands from the porn sites that he frequently visited and nothing still compared to the feel of a woman's touch but prostitutes were out of the question for him. They were too much of a liability. Granted that most of the diseases now can be cured with a healthy dose of penicillin, he still didn't take that risk. Two computers were needed for his life. One for his personal recreation, the other was strictly for work.
"Well, that's going to brighten my day." He said as he typed in his password to open up the files for his next assignment. As sure as the day, the image that came up was a satellite tracking feed that allowed him to see his target in full view. He put his finger to his chin just below his bottom lip and studied the images that played before his eyes. "So you're in a limo. You'll be easy to spot."
Sands pressed the arrow key to widen the view and paused the image. The vehicle was traveling down the highway from White Plains down highway 684. This prompted Sands to start plotting out his course of action. This man was one of five that he's been assigned to watch and knowing that Wilks was part of the group that was smuggling arms from Afghanistan to Mexico made it a priority that he couldn't just simply turn and walk away from this one. With the first two caught and handed over to the Navy, Wilks was the man that had spearheaded the operation by talking a Navy Seal into bringing in arms for a quarter of a million in cash.
With so few operatives that were able to track down and successfully break this operation down, Sands was on the list as the specialist for smuggling and take downs. Arms and drugs often were the main causes for a social disruption. There was no way this guy was going to get into The City without a fight.
With a smirk, Sands started to put his gear together which included an AIAWF7.62 along with three clips. He didn't intend to just bring the guy in, he planned on killing every single person involved including the driver and the whores that Wilks would bring with him. This wasn't a job for Superman. This was a job for the required someone just as cold and heartless as Lex Luthor. Hug-a-thug was out of the question and it was certainly apparent that Sands had to be cruel in order to be kind.
11:15 A.M.
Camouflaged and perched on the billboard's rail, it was now the waiting that required the most diligent patience. A few number of people know of Weaver and it was to remain that way. Even less are the numbers that know of Sands. He tried the cordial route and that didn't work for him at all. Maybe it was better this way. Checking the sights to make sure that his rifle was calibrated for the precision shot he readied himself for the best possible opportunity. He eyed the GPS tracker. The question remained in Sand's head is how did the CIA put such a device on the car to begin with without being spotted and if not, who else was in the car with Wilks?
Now the doubts were beginning to come into play and the first thing that Sands thought about was he was being set up. It was a Catch 22 situation. If he let the car go, he would risk putting many people in danger with the possibility that something could go very wrong and kids would be shooting each other in the streets. Another is shooting the car, create lots of mayhem and possibly media attention that would be completely unnecessary or he could follow the car and take them out there. All three choices had enormous consequences. All three choices would land him being the one hunted. "Shit."
Now wasn't the time for second thoughts. He needed to make a decision and fast. The window was closing and his target was near sight. Three minutes and closing.
11:18 A.M.
Without delay, Weaver fired off his round. The noise suppressor did its job by not creating any unnecessary stress to the other drivers. The limo swerved to the right and hit the guard rail. Sands did anticipate some trouble with the traffic. Another shot fired, taking out the tire on the driver's side which caused the limo to swerve to the left. It was time for him to leave.
He gathered the bullet casings that were expelled and pocketed them. Gloved hands gripped the zip line, he quickly made his escape to his customized Dodge Charger. His heart pounded in his chest from the adrenaline rush. Soon the police would be called and he had to make himself scarce. It was time to change the tires and leave The City.
Simultaneously, the limo flipped and hit the barrier on the far left side of the highway and finally came to rest as it caught fire. This was the price that Sands must pay. He had to remain anonymous for the rest of his life and he couldn't just leave Jack without an explanation. All that remained of his presence in the scene was the bullets lodged in the driver's head and the tire...if it could be found.
WHERE: On a Coppertone billboard on the side of a highway.
WHEN: Friday mid afternoon during lunch rush.
WARNINGS: Violence
SUMMARY: Sniping off arms dealers, Sands got a call to handle a pretty harry assignment and he's the cause of the backup of traffic on HWY 295. Needless to say, the CIA may move him out of the city after this fiasco.
FORMAT: Solo
Sheldon was sitting in his living room reading the newspaper. The light spilling in from the outside splashed over his floor and tables, cascading the room in various shades. The reflection from his nickle plated .380 sat on the table next to him and cast its light on his face. His cell phone lay next to the gun while Sheldon moved to leave the reflection's gaze to lay long on the couch.
He missed Carmen. Me missed a lot of things but showing that particular weakness to anyone often meant death. Evidence to the contrary he chose his assignments with the highest risk in hopes that he would forget his heart. He hated dwelling and even worse, he hated feeling like the sap. Work was work.
His phone rang. The chirping tone didn't illicit an immediate response from the agent. The third ring came. "Yeah, hello."
"Agent Sands, Wilks is on the move." The voice on the other end of the line said in a flat voice that Sheldon felt the color just drip off his surroundings.
"Copy that. Where is he?" Sands responded in an equally calm and flat tone.
"Check your email." The caller hung up the phone.
Sands put the phone back on the cradle and moved to his computer with the secured connection. The encryption protocols often kept Sands from the porn sites that he frequently visited and nothing still compared to the feel of a woman's touch but prostitutes were out of the question for him. They were too much of a liability. Granted that most of the diseases now can be cured with a healthy dose of penicillin, he still didn't take that risk. Two computers were needed for his life. One for his personal recreation, the other was strictly for work.
"Well, that's going to brighten my day." He said as he typed in his password to open up the files for his next assignment. As sure as the day, the image that came up was a satellite tracking feed that allowed him to see his target in full view. He put his finger to his chin just below his bottom lip and studied the images that played before his eyes. "So you're in a limo. You'll be easy to spot."
Sands pressed the arrow key to widen the view and paused the image. The vehicle was traveling down the highway from White Plains down highway 684. This prompted Sands to start plotting out his course of action. This man was one of five that he's been assigned to watch and knowing that Wilks was part of the group that was smuggling arms from Afghanistan to Mexico made it a priority that he couldn't just simply turn and walk away from this one. With the first two caught and handed over to the Navy, Wilks was the man that had spearheaded the operation by talking a Navy Seal into bringing in arms for a quarter of a million in cash.
With so few operatives that were able to track down and successfully break this operation down, Sands was on the list as the specialist for smuggling and take downs. Arms and drugs often were the main causes for a social disruption. There was no way this guy was going to get into The City without a fight.
With a smirk, Sands started to put his gear together which included an AIAWF7.62 along with three clips. He didn't intend to just bring the guy in, he planned on killing every single person involved including the driver and the whores that Wilks would bring with him. This wasn't a job for Superman. This was a job for the required someone just as cold and heartless as Lex Luthor. Hug-a-thug was out of the question and it was certainly apparent that Sands had to be cruel in order to be kind.
Camouflaged and perched on the billboard's rail, it was now the waiting that required the most diligent patience. A few number of people know of Weaver and it was to remain that way. Even less are the numbers that know of Sands. He tried the cordial route and that didn't work for him at all. Maybe it was better this way. Checking the sights to make sure that his rifle was calibrated for the precision shot he readied himself for the best possible opportunity. He eyed the GPS tracker. The question remained in Sand's head is how did the CIA put such a device on the car to begin with without being spotted and if not, who else was in the car with Wilks?
Now the doubts were beginning to come into play and the first thing that Sands thought about was he was being set up. It was a Catch 22 situation. If he let the car go, he would risk putting many people in danger with the possibility that something could go very wrong and kids would be shooting each other in the streets. Another is shooting the car, create lots of mayhem and possibly media attention that would be completely unnecessary or he could follow the car and take them out there. All three choices had enormous consequences. All three choices would land him being the one hunted. "Shit."
Now wasn't the time for second thoughts. He needed to make a decision and fast. The window was closing and his target was near sight. Three minutes and closing.
Without delay, Weaver fired off his round. The noise suppressor did its job by not creating any unnecessary stress to the other drivers. The limo swerved to the right and hit the guard rail. Sands did anticipate some trouble with the traffic. Another shot fired, taking out the tire on the driver's side which caused the limo to swerve to the left. It was time for him to leave.
He gathered the bullet casings that were expelled and pocketed them. Gloved hands gripped the zip line, he quickly made his escape to his customized Dodge Charger. His heart pounded in his chest from the adrenaline rush. Soon the police would be called and he had to make himself scarce. It was time to change the tires and leave The City.
Simultaneously, the limo flipped and hit the barrier on the far left side of the highway and finally came to rest as it caught fire. This was the price that Sands must pay. He had to remain anonymous for the rest of his life and he couldn't just leave Jack without an explanation. All that remained of his presence in the scene was the bullets lodged in the driver's head and the tire...if it could be found.