Title: Sweet Surrender
Author: Carla
E-mail: moviebuff001@yahoo.com
Homepage: https://www.angelfire.com/vt/chrispotter
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
Chapter 7
Just before they died, Sandra’s
parents had opened a safety deposit box and instructed that only their lawyer
have access. The only reason Sandra knew about it was because she had found the
number and the bank name when she had sorted through their things after their
death. The bank had turned her away, sending her to talk to her parent’s lawyer
but he’d told her that it wasn’t necessary for her to know what was in the box
at that time.
“I need to talk to Mr. Horton
please,” Sandra asked the receptionist.
“And you are?” She asked rudely.
Sandra wondered if it was in the job
description of a receptionist, or office
assistant, or whatever they were called, to be a bitch. “Sandra Ames.”
The women straightened in her chair,
“Just a moment please.” Her tone was much sweeter and politely fake.
Moments later she was in Paul
Horton’s office, while the bitch got her a water.
Paul walked into the office, his
hair was much thinner and much whiter than when she had last seen him, but his smile
was just as warm and welcoming as always.
“Sandra, my dear, how have you
been?” He hugged her tightly, reminding her of a sort of bear hug.
Sandra smiled brightly, feeling much
better seeing a familiar face, “Good, thank you and yourself?”
“Oh, the wife’s got me on some
low-cholesterol diet and doing Pilates with her on the weekends. Now isn’t that
a sight to see?” He joked.
Sandra laughed, Paul had very much,
a bear sized figure but he wasn’t a gross weight, he just looked comfortable in
his skin. But the sight of him doing Pilates on a Saturday did have her
laughing.
“But anyways, what can I do for
you?” He leaned against the front of his desk.
“I wanted to talk to you about my
parents,” he nodded his head, crossing over to his chair behind the desk. “Specifically, about their safety deposit box.” Paul’s smile
was long gone and he was leaning intently on his desk, waiting for her to
continue, “I know I was adopted.” She paused for a few seconds, “When I tried
to talk to you about this before you said it wasn’t relevant. I’m pretty sure
it is now.”
“How much do you know…about yourself.”
Sandra sighed sadly, “Six months ago I would have said everything, and
now…I’m not sure of anything.”
Paul took a deep breath, “The man that put you up for adoption was a
friend of mine, he wanted the adoption done fast and
quickly. Since his wife hadn’t been pregnant, I thought you might be an illicit
child and he wanted to get you out of the picture before his wife found out.
But it didn’t seem right, I knew he loved his wife and his family more than
anything…when he was killed a few days after, I knew there was something else
going on.”
Sandra finally spoke up, “He wasn’t my father…he was a scientist.”
“I never knew for sure but I knew he worked for the government, doing
research or something, I figured there was a connection.” He got up and grabbed
his coat, “Let’s go for a walk.”
****NOTE**** For some reason I’m having some technical difficulties with
transferring exactly want I want this chapter to look like onto the internet.
The letter is within the ******, hopefully that will make this less confusing!
Chapter 8
Paul took her over to the bank and
took out the safety deposit box for her, he then turned to leave.
“Don’t you want to see what’s in
here?” Sandra asked.
“Some things are better left
unknown,” Paul hugged her tightly, “Take care of yourself my dear and remember
if you ever get into trouble, legally, you know who to call.” He said with a
smile and then left.
Alone in the room, Sandra opened the
box. A thick file folder lay at the top, she removed
it, not ready to read anything yet. Underneath lay a
velvet box, a keychain with three keys on it and around fifty thousand dollars
in cash.
Sandra picked up the money, staring
in shock, if that wasn’t enough to send her into convulsions, underneath was a
piece of paper with a Swiss Bank account number.
She knew her parents had done well
for themselves but judging from this they were a gigantic leap from being just well off.
There was another file folder at the
bottom, which she put with the rest of the contents and put it all in a bag the
bank had given her.
She caught a cab to the nearest
hotel hoping she wouldn’t be mugged on the way, what with the fifty thousand
dollars she had but if she got in that situation, she’d just kick whosever ass
mugged her.
Once in the safety of her hotel
room, she opened the smaller file folder. In it she found a letter written in
her mother’s handwriting. A message from the grave.
information we could compile on you. You will also find
a part of your inheritance along with a number
for a Swiss
bank account. There should be enough to keep you
living
comfortably, as we know your life will be far from simple,
but then is anyone’s? Although money will not
compensate
for everything, it may make things easier.
There is also
a velvet box, please do not open this, it is a
family heirloom and we want you to give it to the
person
you fall in love with, which we know, with a heart
like yours
will happen.
***********************************************
Sandra’s thoughts strayed to Alex, she wondered what her parents would have thought of him.
****************************************************************************
The keys are
to a house in
we visited it while you were younger but you were
probably
too young to remember it. The other is for an
apartment here
in
Lastly, before
you read the large file folder, we’d like you
to contact a man. We feel he deserves to know the
information
as well. His address is on the back of this paper,
ask him if his
father’s name was Nicholas, then tell him you have
information
about his father.
We love you
very much and we wish more than anything that we
could be there for you and to help you. We wish the
greatest
happiness for you.
Love
always,
Mom and Dad
Sandra re-read the letter over several times but instead of making her sad, it gave her some closure and made her feel not so alone.
She was tempted to read the other
folder, why should she have to show this to someone else? It was about her and
who was to say she could trust this guy? Her parents did though and that was
enough for her.
She showered and dressed in a pair
of black pants and a red blouse, she stuffed some of the contents of the bag in
her purse and the rest she’d deal with downstairs.
It wouldn’t be so bad, plus, she
could use the company.
where’s
it going
if
there’s an answer
I don’t know it
-Chris Issak “Please”
Chapter Nine
“We’ve got a location on Sandra
Ames.”
James Hayden looked up from his
mound of paperwork. Even secret government officials had to do paperwork...and
tons in his case.
“Where?”
The other man looked uncomfortable,
“Well someone tried to kill her in
“Someone tried to do what?” Hayden
shot out of his chair, practically yelling.
The other man gulped at air and ran
a hand over the back of his neck where sweat had started to form. He was barely
a year younger than Hayden but his reputation gave him much more intimidation.
“Kill her, sir. I don’t know yet who it was but I don’t think it was us,” he
sputtered out.
“You don’t think?” Hayden walked
slowly towards the man, as he scampered backwards. “Well that’s good to know,”
he said sarcastically. “Because I’d hate to think that we’d be responsible for
killing earth’s only hope at survival!”
The man stared at Hayden, expecting
some kind of bodily harm to come to him.
“You think she’s here in
The other man nodded, “She took out
her parent’s safety deposit box. Might I infer that she might visit Alex
Krycek?”
Hayden nodded, “I’ll deal with that.
Who else knows?” He grabbed his coat, heading for the door.
“No one, I came to you first.”
“Keep it that way.”
Chapter Ten
Sandra’s hands shook as she walked
down the hallway to the apartment of the mystery man. She was afraid for her
life, for what she might find out and most importantly, she was afraid of her
future.
Whatever was in the folder was going
to change her life even more. The way her parents had put it in the letter made
it sound like this was the end of a normal life. No going to school and getting
a job, no diner and drinks with friends on a Saturday night, no great romance,
that could lead to marriage and maybe to children.
She suddenly realized just how badly
she wanted all of that.
She turned to go back to the
elevator to leave when she remembered the man in the apartment, he, for some
reason, deserved to know whatever information she had about his father. She may
be able to hide from her future but this man couldn’t hide from his past.
She also knew that this man’s father
may have been the man that saved Sandra and put her up for adoption. What kind
of life would she be living now, if he hadn’t helped her?
And if this man’s father had died
for it, for saving her, his son deserved to know what was in this file, normal
life or not.
When she reached his door she stood
for several minutes staring at the door. Everything seemed strangely familiar
and she wondered if she had ever been here before.
She finally knocked and the door
opened soon after.
“Oh my God.”
