Not a pit in Mexico...No! Ah poor baby Sands, they'd planned it, sob, and now he has no eyes, sob, my poor babies blind, sob.

Ok apologies for that...good stuff, it's al god...

Hard to imagine Jeffrey behind a desk for any reason but a need for shelter from unfriendly fire. Thinking that he'd actually put up with it - even to get what he wanted - is mind boggling.

Just as his poetic-ness about death is more than a little troubling. You know just from reading about his partner's death that this is not a guy you want to have anything to do with.

/would count himself lucky if he went out in the way he had (hail of bullets. dramatic bar scene. jets of blood. pull your position and go epic, grand scale.)\ - sounds like he's got a taste for the grandiose.

Can't wait to see how you pull parts one and two together.

Woah. This is getting scary. I mean, it's so...Sands...

Can't wait to read the end!

*Runs off to read 'Sands'*