Here is a trilogy of stories I wrote. I would love to have them listed here. The first two are finished stories. I'm still working on the third one.
Category- Drama, adventure
Rating- PG
Spoilers- mild spoilers for "Further instructions". If you don't want to know Desmond's fate don't read any further.
Disclaimer- All Lost characters are the property of ABC and their creators. I derive no profit from this and no copyright infringement is intended.
Desmond Hume walked slowly down the twisting jungle path. He breathed big lungfulls of the fresh air and marvelled at the fact he was still alive. All things considered he had been very lucky. Desmond had escaped the EM blast with scrapes and bruises, a slight blurring of his vision and some hearing loss. This last troubled him the most. He wasn't complaining though. Locke and Mr. Eko had gotten it much worse.
Looking around him he wondered what Kelvin had been so worried about. Except for the destruction of the hatch, activating the failsafe didn't seem to have had any negative effects that he could see. Desmond stopped and took a bottle of water out of his pack. Taking a sip he saw the brush on the side of the path start to move. Was someone coming? He wished his hearing would clear up. He put the bottle away and frantically searched for something to use as a weapon. There weren't many choices. Picking up a large rock he turned towards the movement.
Desmond gasped audibly as the source was revealed. Kelvin Inman stepped into the clearing looking very much alive and well. He was dressed in a brown tunic and pants and carried a matching pack. "Well I'll be..." he said, smiling. Desmond struggled to speak. "Kelvin, you're...you're alive." A wave of dizziness came over him (another after effect of the blast) and he reached out for a nearby tree for support. " I certainly am, Des." Kelvin replied. It was the last thing Desmond heard before darkness overtook him.
When he came to he was lying on the ground with something soft beneath his head. Kelvin sat on a fallen log nearby. Desmond sat up slowly, closing his eyes a another wave of dizziness washed over him. "You don't appear to be hurt." Kelvin said. " I am puzzled as to where the flash burns you have came from. Those usually come from energy pulses or bomb blasts." Desmond looked at his former hatchmate. "There was an incident with the computer. Someone destroyed it actually. I had to activate the failsafe. The burns probably came from that blast." This surprised Kelvin. "You actually did it, Des? I didn't think you had the stones." Desmond looked at Kelvin. "There's a lot you don't know about me." He got up and took a seat on a log near Kelvin's. "How are you still alive? I thought you were..." He stopped, overcome with emotion. "I know what you thought." Kelvin took a drink from a water bottle. "I was only knocked out." He reached in his pack and took out two energy bars. "Nutribar?" He offered one to Desmond who took it numbly. "I am so sorry Kelvin. If I had known you were still alive I never would have left you like that. I was in a bloody panic." Kelvin could see the sincerity in every line of the younger man. He may have been in the army but Kelvin doubted he had killed anyone. Once you did it the first time it became commonplace frighteningly fast.
He shuddered thinking what his reaction might have been. (and what his reaction to Radzinsky's suicide had been.) “I don't blame you, Des” Kelvin took a bite of his bar. “I'm surprised you're still here.” Desmond said. “You seemed pretty hot to leave on my boat.” Kelvin chuckled. “ Things didn't work out quite according to plan.” He looked at Desmond. He'd rather die than admit it but he was glad to see the Scotsman again. “I remember you knocking me down. Everything is really fuzzy until I woke up in another hatch, a medical facility of some kind. I've been with those people ever since.” Desmond looked surprised. “What people? The hostiles? The ones the crash survivors call the Others?” Kelvin shook his head. “I don't know who they really are. All I know is they said they are an offshoot of the original Dharma group that was operating on this island.”
“I thought you had no time for Dharma.”
“They changed my mind. Showed me things. I have a totally different understanding after talking to their leader, Ben.”
Desmond didn't know what disturbed him more. Kelvin's change in attitude or his lack of questions about what crash survivors. “Do you work for them now?” Kelvin paused before he answered. “In a way.” He crumpled his energy bar wrapper in his fist. He thought of the files he had been shown and the information they contained. “There's nothing to fear, Des. We're here to do good.” Desmond wondered about that but said nothing. “What exactly are you doing?”he asked. “That I can't tell you. It's need to know and you don't.” Kelvin paused. “I wish I could tell you but I can't.” He looked Desmond square in the eye. “You also can't tell anyone you ran into me.” Desmond looked confused. “Trust me on this. It's for your own good.” Kelvin looked conflicted. “Just go back to your camp and pretend you never saw me. I'll do the same. You'll thank me for this, Des.”
“What the bloody heck is going on?” Kelvin stood and shouldered his pack. “I'm trying to protect you.” He walked away from the clearing. “Be seeing you, Des.” Desmond stood and was about to follow him, then thought better of it. Protect him from what? It was all very strange.
Kelvin walked through the jungle towards the beach. He knew he had done the right thing letting Desmond go even though it was against procedure. He just hoped the Scotsman would keep his end of the promise. Kelvin took a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. It would tell him who he was supposed to find and bring back to the others. Opening it he saw one name printed there. John Locke.
Whistling, he continued on his mission.
Category: action, adventure ,drama
Rating: PG to PG-13
Spoilers: Some spoilers for "Further instructions" . If you don't want to know the fate of Desmond and Locke don't read any further until after Oct. 18th.
Disclaimer: All Lost characters are the property of ABC and their creators. I derive no profit from this and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: this is a sequel to "Reunion". You don't have to read that story first to understand this but it helps.
Reconnaissance
Chapter 1
Kelvin Inman walked down a narrow path in the jungle. He had been sent by the group that called themselves the "good guys" to bring another of the survivors of flight 815 to their encampment. He stopped in a secluded area and set his pack on a fallen log. It was time to get ready. Kelvin glanced around him, listening to be sure no one was approaching. Satisfied he would be undisturbed he removed his tunic and pants and tucked them in the pack. He put on a pair of worn jeans and a polo shirt and traded his hiking boots for athletic shoes. Next he took out a small mirror and a cordless razor and shaved his beard. He completed his disguise with a pair of horn rimmed glasses and a smaller nylon pack. Whistling softly Kelvin carefully hid the large pack and resumed his trek to the beach. His cover identity was Joe O'Neill, a businessman from Chicago. Unlike Ben's Henry Gale identity there was almost no way his could be found out to be false. He remembered the argument he and Ben had a few weeks previously when the other man had brought up the idea of assuming Henry Gale's identity. He had thought it was way too risky. Especially as sloppy as some of Ben's people were. They should have at least burned the body of the real Henry so it couldn't be identified if it happened to be unearthed, and gotten rid of his wallet and I.D. The C.I.A never would have let details like that slip. These people weren't the C.I.A, however.(A fact Ben was only too happy to point out to him.) No matter. He had no intention of ending up a prisoner like Ben had been.
A few clicks east Desmond made his way through the jungle. Still suffering the after effects of the EM pulse he had to stop and rest periodically. His mind reeled thinking of what Kelvin had told him. Who were the people he was working for? And what was this mission he couldn't talk about? So intently was he pondering these questions that he didn't notice the trip wire at his feet until the net was upon him. "Bloody hell..." Desmond was yanked off his feet and pulled up in the air. "Help! Somebody help me!" He yelled. He struggled with his arms and legs but only succeeded in tangling himself more in the strong netting. "Help! Can anybody hear me?" He was about to give up calling out when someone walked into the clearing. It was a woman dressed in tan cargo pants and a worn sleeveless top and sweater. She had long brown hair and looked to be in her mid forties. Desmond's eyes widened at the crossbow she was carrying. "Help me please." he called out to her. "Are you one of them?" she asked him. " Them? I don't know what you're bloody talking about. Just get me down from here." The woman looked at him. "Are you one of the others?" Desmond shook his head. "No I'm not." He wondered if the others were the people Kelvin was working for now. "Three years ago my boat crashed on this island. I was found and brought to an underground bunker not far from here. Up until three weeks ago that's where I was." The woman seemed to believe him. At least Desmond hoped she did. "What's your beef with these "others"? " He asked. A look of great sadness came over the woman's face. "They stole my child when she was only a week old. For sixteen years I've been trying too find her." Desmond looked shocked. "That's terrible. I am so sorry." Saying nothing the woman removed a large knife from her belt and cut the net free from the ropes holding it. Desmond landed on the ground in a heap. "Thank you." he said as he pulled himself free of the net. "I''m Desmond, by the way. What's your name?" The woman looked at him. "Danielle Rousseau." Desmond smiled. "Pleased to meet you, Danielle." A wave of dizziness came over him and he held onto a tree for support. "Desmond, are you alright?" That was the last thing he heard before everything went dark.
Chapter 2
Kelvin went over the details of his cover as he continued on his way to the beach. Joe O'Neill was a sporting goods store owner from suburban Chicago. He had been in Australia on vacation. The friends he had come with had stayed several extra days to go deep sea fishing and snorkeling. He had gotten a last minute seat on flight 815 because he needed to return to the States for business reasons. His seat had been in the front section of the plane and he was the only survivor. On the island he had been living in an abandoned bunker he happened upon while hunting for food. (That bunker had been prepared in the event someone asked to be taken there. ) Kelvin wished he had been able to get his hands on a falsified passport and I.D, but wasn't too concerned about not having them. Who carried their passport around on a deserted island? The important thing was there was no incriminating evidence that could be found. He knew that Ethan and Goodwin had failed at similar infiltrations. They hadn't had intelligence training, for one thing. They also didn't know how to read people and to be really inconspicuous. (Ethan anyway. He had never met Goodwin) Doing both of those things had been Kelvin's life for over ten years. He was sure he would be successful.
As he neared the beach Kelvin put himself in the mindset of someone who had survived a plane crash and been alone for 60 days. Mussing his somewhat curly hair he stepped out on the sand. He could see makeshift shelters a ways down but very few people. (That was another reason he had chosen this time to infiltrate. The group of survivors was split up.) A young blond woman sat in front of one of the tents holding a baby. She was talking to a middle aged black woman and a young man with slightly shaggy blond hair. “Thank God I'm not the only survivor.” Kelvin said as he approached them. “I was in business class. No one else in that section made it. You're the first people I've seen since the crash.” He put what he hoped was the correct amount of emotion in his voice. “You were on flight 815?” The young mother asked. “Yes. I was on my way back to the States from a vacation in Australia and New Zealand.” The young man didn't look convinced. “You've been surviving all by yourself for 60 plus days?” Kelvin nodded. “I spent the first week after the crash near where I first found myself. After that I started exploring, trying to see if there were any other survivors. I found an abandoned storage bunker of some kind and that's where I've been staying. There were plenty of fruit trees around and I was able to kill the occasional rabbit. Food started getting scarce a few days ago and I decided to try and find another place. By some luck I found my way here.”
“You're pretty knowledgeable about the outdoors, then?” The young man asked, his accent reminding Kelvin a bit of Desmond's. “You might say that. I consider myself somewhat of an outdoorsman. Back home I go hunting and fishing regularly. Most of my survival knowledge comes from my time in the service.”
“You're a military man?” The middle aged woman asked. “Former military. I was in the army a few years ago. When I got out I joined my old man in the sporting goods business. I own three stores in the Chicago area now.” He held out his hand. “I'm Joe O'Neill. Pleased to meet you.” He shook hands with the black woman and the young Englishman. “Nice to meet you Joe. I'm Rose.”
“I'm Charlie” the young man said. “That's Claire and her son is Aaron.” Charlie still looked like he didn't trust Kelvin. That was understandable after what Ethan had tried to do to him. (kelvin had heard about that after the fact.) “How do we know you were really on the plane?” Charlie asked. “We had a guy come into camp claiming to be one of us a while ago. He ended up kidnapping Claire and trying to kill me.” Kelvin looked surprised. “That's terrible. I wish I had a way to prove my story but I don't. You'll just have to believe me on this.” He paused. “Even if you could find the passenger manifest I probably wouldn't be on it since I got switched to that flight at the last minute.” He put on his most sincere smile. “I can assure you I'm just a regular guy in the same situation you all are.” Kelvin turned when he saw two men approaching their small group. Both of them looked to be middle aged. The slightly shorter one with salt and pepper hair was carrying several bottles of water. His tall, bald companion had a pack on his back and walked with a bit of a limp. “That's my husband Bernard and John Locke.” Rose told him. Kelvin nodded. Just the man he wanted to meet. It wasn't time to act yet, however.
Chapter 3
Desmond opened his eyes. He was lying on a makeshift bed in what appeared to be a bunker of some kind. He raised his head and looked around him. “Where am I?” he asked softly. A water bottle was put to his lips. “Here. Drink.” Danielle Rousseau told him. Desmond sipped the water gratefully.
Danielle crossed to a table on the other side of the room. Desmond sat up and immediately realized that his hands were tied."Is this really necessary?" he asked indicating his bonds. "Just a precaution." Danielle said. She came back over to him holding what Desmond recognized to be a spray injector. "I don't know what you're doing with that, sistah but you're wasting your time. I injected myself with one of those every nine days for three years." he paused. "Frankly I don't think there is any bloody sickness." Danielle checked the ampoule in the injector. "This isn't for the sickness." She pressed it to his arm. There was a hiss and everything shortly went dark again.
When he opened his eyes some time later his hands were no longer bound. "Merci beaucoup." he said to Danielle. Gingerly he sat up and rubbed his wrists where they were slightly raw from being tied. "De rien. Tu parle Francais?" Danielle replied. "Un peu. Although I'm kind of rusty." Desmond answered switching back to English. "How long have you been on the island?" he asked her. Kelvin had never mentioned running into a French woman on one of his outings, and he was almost positive she wasn't a plane crash survivor. "About 16 years." she replied. "Sixteen years? My God..." Danielle nodded sadly. "I was part of an oceanic research team. Our vessel was drawn here by a signal we picked up. A string of numbers repeated over and over." Desmond's eyes widened at this last. "Our ship ran aground and I've been here ever since. " Questions filled Desmond's mind. "What happened to the rest of your team?" Danielle hesitated. "They died or were killed." Desmond thought she was hiding something but didn't feel like pressing her on it. "To be alone for that many years...it had to have been horrible." Desmond slowly got up and walked over to Danielle. "I was totally alone for a few weeks and I know how hard that was." Danielle stood at the makeshift table with a look of sadness on her face. Desmond placed his hand over hers and squeezed it gently. Tears began to run down her cheeks. Desmond hesitated for a moment then took Danielle in his arms. He held her as she cried and gently stroked her hair. "I can't tell you the last time I was held." she said softly once her tears had subsided. "Merci beaucoup Desmond." He smiled. "It's my pleasure." He couldn't remember the last time he had been held either. Thoughts of Penny flooded his mind and he had to fight to hold back his own tears. "You've lost someone too?" Danielle asked. Her fingers softly brushed a tear from his cheek. "Not exactly. There is someone I love very much that I fear I'll never see again. My dear Penny." He paused, smiling ruefully. "Her father's probably glad I'm lost on a bloody island. He never thought I was good enough for her." They looked at each other. A moment later she was kissing him. Danielle's kiss was firm and warm and sweet. Desmond was surprised but not displeased. When she broke the kiss Danielle had a look of shame on her face. "Please forgive me. I didn't mean to...I don't know what came over me. It's just been so long." The words tumbled out of her. "There's nothing to apologize for sistah." Desmond said taking her hands. He thought of Kelvin and the people he was now allied with. "You want to find your child?" Danielle nodded. "More than anything."
"I might be able to help you."
Chapter 4
Bernard handed bottles of water to Rose and Claire. "Who is..." he said softly indicating Kelvin. "This is Joe O'Neill. He says he was in the front section of the plane." Kelvin nodded. "Business class."
"I thought there weren't any survivors from the front." Bernard said. "I think I'm the only one." Kelvin said. "I didn't see any others where I was."
"Business class, huh?" Locke said looking Kelvin up and down. "That's right." He held out his hand. "Joe O'Neill." Locke shook hands warily. "John Locke."
Locke's voice was somewhat hoarse and raspy, and there were healing cuts on his head and neck. “John is very lucky to have survived the implosion of the hatch.” Charlie said, noticing Kelvin looking at Locke's injuries. “I heard a blast out there in the jungle, then the sky went all funny for a while. I was wondering what happened.” Kelvin said. The hatch must have imploded when Desmond activated the failsafe. “You found another bunker?” he asked keeping a look of innocence on his face. “We found a hatch in the jungle not far from here.” Locke answered. “What did you mean 'another hatch'?”
“I found an abandoned “hatch” as you call it, not far from where I first found myself. It looked like it was a storage locker or something.” Locke looked at the tall, dark haired man wondering how much he should tell him. “Our hatch wasn't abandoned. When we finally figured out how to get inside we found someone living in there.” Desmond, Kelvin knew. “I don't remember seeing you on the plane.” Bernard said. “I boarded kind of at the last minute so I probably wasn't there when you walked through business class.” Kelvin looked at Locke. “ I remember seeing you as I was leaving the ticket counter in the airport. You were being wheeled by in a wheelchair.” Locke looked shocked by this last statement. Just the reaction he wanted. Kelvin was thankful the files they had on the survivors were so complete. “You were in a wheelchair?” Charlie asked Locke. “I was.” He didn't look thrilled that fact had been made public. “Why don't you need it now?”
“I can't say for sure. When I woke up after the crash there was feeling in my legs again and I could walk. Something about this place healed me.” Rose nodded. “Some things just can't be explained, Charlie.” Kelvin was willing to bet she had experienced a similar healing of her cancer since arriving on the island. “That's amazing.” he said to Locke. “What a gift you received.” He wondered how he was going to get Locke alone to talk to him. Hopefully once he did he'd be able to convince the older man to come with him. Kelvin really didn't want to have to drug him or use force.
Chapter 5
“What do you mean you might be able to help me find Alex? Do you know where she is?” The hope in Danielle's voice nearly broke Desmond's heart. “No. Unfortunately I don't. I know someone who might though.” Desmond thought for a moment. “Does the name Ben mean anything to you?” Danielle shook her head. “I think he's the leader of the ones you call the 'others'.” Desmond was hoping if he could find Kelvin that his former hatchmate could take them to Alex or at least knew where she was. Danielle crossed the small room and rummaged in a bag. She rejoined Desmond a few moments later holding what looked to be a straight razor. “This will probably sound silly and I don't blame you if you say no.” She said. “My husband Robert always used to love it when I shaved him.” She paused. “He died shortly after our ship went aground.” she said in response to the questioning look on Desmond's face. She looked at his beard. “I was wondering if you'd let me shave you.” Desmond was a little surprised by the request but not disturbed. Penny had loved washing his hair and giving him backrubs. She had never shaved him though. (He wouldn't have minded if she wanted to.) It didn't sound bad and his beard was getting kind of itchy. “That would be fine.” he answered. Danielle smiled. She pulled up a crate of the right height and asked Desmond to sit. He did. “I'll be right back.” Danielle left the bunker. When she came back she was holding two battered bowls. One contained water. She set it down and began mixing the contents of the other. When she was satisfied with the mixture she set that bowl down and picked up a pair of old scissors. She began to carefully trim the longer hairs of his beard. When she was satisfied that the hair was a manageable length she reached into one of the bowls and scooped out a little of the contents.
Desmond sat still as Danielle lathered his face with the soap. She then dipped the razor in the bowl of water and began to shave him. Desmond shivered feeling the cool metal scrape against his skin. Danielle moved the razor in smooth slow strokes, careful not to cut Desmond. He closed his eyes enjoying the sensation of her fingers stroking his cheeks checking for rough spots. Finding none Danielle dipped a cloth in the water and proceeded to wash the remaining soap off Desmond's face. "Merci, Desmond" She said. "Tu es certainment tres beau." Danielle wiped and put away the razor and took the bowls outside and dumped them. Desmond ran his hands over his cheeks, enjoying their smoothness. He noticed his pack leaning against one wall and went and picked it up. "Are you ready to go and try to find my friend?" He asked Danielle. She nodded."I had a sailboat but I loaned it to someone so we'll have to walk." Danielle picked up her pack and they left the bunker.
Chapter 6
"What do you think of our friend Mr. O'Neill?" John Locke asked Charlie as they walked down the beach. The tall man was currently sitting under a tree contentedly eating a mango. "I don't know, John. I don't trust him." Locke nodded. He had his own doubts about the newest addition to their group. He didn't remember seeing the man board the plane either. The fact that he knew about his being in a wheelchair disturbed him. How could this man know that if he hadn't seen him in the airport? The only person on the island he had told about his condition was dead. The fact that he had supposedly survived alone on the island for sixty plus days was plausible. Locke knew he himself could do it with little trouble. He still wasn't ready to Be too trusting of Joe O'neill. Locke had done that with Ethan and look what had happened. "I think I'm going to go and have a talk with our new friend." Locke said. Charlie nodded. "There's just something not right about him." Locke turned and walked across the sand to the palm tree where Kelvin was sitting. The man from business class was very tall and solidly built. He had slightly curly brown hair with a bit of gray at the temples. Locke figured he was somewhere in his mid forties. "Tropical fruits are delicious, aren't they?" he said as he approached. Kelvin looked up. "They are good. Mangoes are my favorite." he held out another mango. "Care to join me?" Locke slowly sat down and took the offered fruit. "Thanks. Joe, is it?" Kelvin nodded. "Joe O'Neill. You're John Locke, right?" Locke nodded. Kelvin smiled to himself. Things were going better than he had planned. He wasn't going to show his hand just yet though. He could tell that the survivors didn't trust him. Kelvin didn't really blame them. He had been trained not to trust anybody, but even if he hadn't been he would act the same way to someone who just walked onto the beach claiming to be one of them. (It had taken hiim a few weeks to begin to trust Desmond.) Locke took a knife from the sheath attached to his belt and sliced into the plump fruit. He licked the juice that ran down onto his fingers and tried to figure out what was bothering him about his companion. "What do you do in the real world, Mr. Locke?" Kelvin asked. "It's John, and I was a regional collections manager for a box company. Interesting, huh?" Kelvin smiled. "That sounds like good honest work. I own several sporting goods stores in Chicago." Locke cut a slice off the mango and ate it. "I couldn't help but notice your knife." Kelvin said. "That's not a standard hunting knife is it?" Locke shrugged. "All I know is it's a good knife." Kelvin nodded. "That it is. I asked because that type of knife isn't legal to sell to civilians. At least not in Illinois." This piqued Locke's interest. "You seem to know a lot about knives." Kelvin nodded. "I sell camping and hunting knives in my store. I have to be familiar with the merchandise and the law." He paused. "The knife you have is nicknamed in some circles a "frequent flyer" because it's undetectable by airport security. At least it was pre 9-11. That may have changed now. That's why it was illegal to own one. " He paused. "The hell of it is I get slapped with a fine or worse for selling one of those in my store, and anyone who wants one can buy one easily on the Internet with no regulation." Kelvin wondered where the older man had gotten the knife. He had seen them plenty while working for the C.I.A. They were one of the weapons of choice of terrorists, survivalists, and other trouble makers. (not that he thought Locke was any of these.)Locke looked at Kelvin with interest. Kelvin wondered if he was getting dangerously close to revealing too much. He looked at the worn pocket knife in his hand, tthen back at Locke. "Are you a knife collector John?" He asked. "You might say that I am."
"That's kind of an expensive hobby." Kelvin replied. "I'm a weapons collector myself. I especially like guns and knives from the civil war era or earlier. You wouldn't believe what some of those will set you back." He took another bite of his mango. "I'm intrigued by what you said about the hatch you found. I can't imagine someone living in a place like that for any length of time." He had a look of wonder on his face as he said this last. Locke cut another slice off his own mango. "The guy we found did. His name was Desmond. Supposedly he had been down there for three years. I don't think he was a member of the Dharma initiative, the people who built the hatches. He said he was brought there after his boat crashed." Locke paused. "Could you show me this hatch?" Kelvin asked. Locke shook his head. "Unfortunately I can't. The hatch was destroyed when the failsafe was activated." He looked at his companion. "I'd like to see the hatch where you were staying. Could you take me there?" Kelvin nodded. "I'd be glad to if you're up for a bit of a walk." Kelvin glanced at Locke's left leg. "Did you hurt your leg in the hatch blast? You appeared to be favoring it when you walk." Locke hesitated. "It happened several weeks ago. There was an accident with one of the blast doors in the hatch." Locke didn't elaborate. Kelvin winced hearing that. He had nearly gotten trapped under one of the doors one of the first times Radzinsky had had him lower them so he could work on his map."You're lucky it wasn't a more serious injury." Locke nodded. "You're very perceptive, Mr. O'Neill." Kelvin smiled. "Call me Joe. It comes from being a salesman. Sizing up your customers and knowing what they want." Locke smiled. "Shall we get going?" He stood and shouldered his pack. "I'm ready when you are." Kelvin also stood and grabbed his pack. The two men started off towards the jungle.
Chapter 7
Desmond and Danielle walked through the jungle heading towards the beach. He had figured that would be a good starting point since Kelvin had been headed in that direction."Do you have any idea why they took Alex?" he asked Danielle. "No. Not really." she said, shaking her head. "All I know is they want children for some reason." She paused. "They took Claire and I'm assuming they meant to take her baby. If I hadn't found her in the jungle and brought her back to camp I shudder to think what might have happened." They were nearing the beach now. "You think your friend will be with the survivors?" Danielle asked Desmond. "He was heading this way when I last saw him. I thought it was the best place for us to start looking." Danielle nodded. "This friend, is he one of them?" Desmond shrugged. "They found him after I left him for dead. He's been with them ever since. I think he's at least working with them if he hasn't joined them." Desmond paused."I think he'll help us though." I hope he will he added silently to himself. The sun was low in the sky and the first purple shadows of dusk were visible. As they walked out onto the beach it was obvious that not many people were around. He noticed Hurley sitting by his tent and went over to him. "Hello Hurley" he said by way of greeting. The big man looked up with an expression of surprise on his face. "Hey, Desmond, Danielle" Hurley still looked a little creeped out by him. Desmond completely understood that considering he had been stumbling around the jungle starkers when they had first met. Add to that the fact that he knew what Locke was going to say before he said it and he'd be creeped out too. In fact he was a little freaked out by the whole thing. He didn't know about Hurley's relationship with Danielle but they certainly seemed to know each other. "You didn't happen to see anyone you didn't know come this way today, did you?" He asked. Hurley shook his head. "No. Not that I can think of, dude."
"You're forgetting our friend Mr. O'Neill." Charlie said joining them. He did not seem happy to see Danielle. "Mr. O'Neill?" Desmond asked. "He walked into our camp earlier today. Said he was in business class on the plane." An ides was forming in Desmond's mind. "What did this bloke look like?" he asked, wanting to see if he was correct or not. "Big tall guy, dark hair, glasses." Charlie said. "Did he have a beard?" Desmond asked. Charlie shook his head. "No. No beard" Desmond still had his suspicions but wasn't ready to say anything about them. "Is he around?" he asked. "I'd like to meet him." Charlie looked a little puzzled by this. "No. He and Locke went off a little while ago to the hatch where he was staying." Desmond nodded. If it was kelvin he wondered what he was up to. "Why do you want to find this guy?" Hurley asked. "He sounds like someone I know. I'm sure he's not but I want to see for myself." Desmond noticed the suspicious way Charlie was looking at Danielle. He wondered what kind of past history they had. "Do you know which way they went?" he asked. "I think they went towards our hatch, or what's left of it." Charlie said. Desmond nodded. "Thanks, mate" He and Danielle walked down the beach to Desmond's makeshift shelter. It was almost full dark now. "If this Mr. O'Neill is the friend you are looking for why are we not going to the hatch now?" Danielle asked. "I don't fancy stumbling around the jungle in the dark. We'll go first thing in the morning." Desmond replied. "Would you like something to eat?" he asked. "I know I could do with some supper." Danielle sat down and nodded sadly. "We'll find Alex." Desmond said reassuringly. He hoped he wouldn't be proved wrong. Desmond started a fire and heated some soup for them. "I hope you don't mind tinned soup and fruit." He smiled ruefully. "It's actually rather good. Although after three years one grows tired of it." They sipped their soup and stared at the ocean. A ways down Charlie, Claire, and baby Aaron could be seen sitting by their tent. Desmond wondered if he'd always feel like an outsider among the survivors.
In the jungle Locke and Kelvin approached the place where the swan hatch had been. Kelvin looked at the crater that was all that remained of his former home. He wasn't sorry to see the swan gone. "Perhaps we should make camp for the night." he told Locke. "It can be treacherous going at night." The older man didn't object. Sitting by the fire a short time later Kelvin debated making his move. Part of him thought he should knock Locke out while he was sleeping and drag him back to the others. A larger part of him didn't want to resort to that. (besides it was a lot farther from here to the camp than the distance from the beach where he'd found Desmond to the hatch. He wasn't looking forward to having to drag Locke.) He decided he'd make his move in the morning. Hopefully Locke would be amenable to what he had to say and he wouldn't have to use force.
A few hours later Locke opened his eyes and looked around him. Joe O'Neill was fa t asleep next to him. Lying awake, Locke thought about the mysterious man he was with and whether or not he could trust him. He still smarted from being used by Eddie when he was with the group in California, and from being tricked by Ethan on the island. He wasn't about to let it happen again. Sitting up, Locke glanced at his companion again. He didn't stir. Careful not to make a sound Locke reached for Joe's pack. So far so good. Creeping a short esdistance away he opened the bag. The contents were much what he expected to see. Several extra shirts, a pair of shorts, a beat up paperback, a book of matches, the pocketknife he'd used earlier, several mangoes, and a small flashlight. Locke hadn't really expected to find anything strange but he had to look. Working quickly put everything back in the pack and returned it to where it had been. Joe was still sleeping. Locke laid down and closed his eyes.
Chapter 8
"Danielle ma chere, Je T'aime"
"Tu sais que Je T'adore mon amore, Robert." Danielle closed her eyes and melted into her husband's embrace . "Mon amour, comment J'ai te manque." She opened her eyes. She was not with her beloved but alone in a shelter on an island beach. Desmond slept next to her, the dying light from the fire illuminating the gold highlights in his hair. Danielle tentatively reached out a hand and stroked his silky locks. Desmond stirred slightly but did not awaken. He rolled onto his back and she noticed his shirt had hiked up a bit exposing a strip of tanned flesh. Cautiously she touched him.
When he didn't awaken she caressed him a little more boldly, tracing a fingertip along the waistband of his trousers. She jerked back with a start when his hand closed over hers. Warm brown eyes regarded her with sexy complicity. “Pardonne Moi, I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me...” The words spilled out of her. “I miss my husband, Robert. I dreampt of him tonight.” Desmond looked at her with understanding. He had dreams about Penny often. Desmond reached out and brushed a wisp of hair out of Danielle's face. She really was a beautiful woman. He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “How did Robert die?” Danielle looked sad. “He got the sickness shortly after we arrived here.” There is no sickness Desmond thought but didn't say. A tear ran down Danielle's cheek. Desmond let go of her hand and brushed it away. He took her in his arms and stroked her hair. They looked at each other seeing the pain and sadness mirrored in their gazes. A moment later they were kissing. Danielle ran her hands across Desmond's muscular chest and stomach. He stopped her when she reached his waistband. “I'd like to sistah, but I can't. I'm sorry.” Danielle looked up at him. “Penny?” She asked. Desmond nodded. “She is one lucky woman to have someone who loves her so much, who will deny himself for her.” Desmond nodded. “She is.” He was conflicted. His body was telling him one thing while his mind said another. Would giving in this time really be that bad? This was the first time he had to consider this possibility since arriving on the island. Desmond glanced at the fire, now not much more than glowing embers. The luminous disk of the moon cast an ethereal glow on the water. Making a decision, he took Danielle in his arms. “We'll have to be really quiet. “ He whispered, kissing her neck. Danielle nodded and wrapped her arms around him. The lapping of the waves against the shore was the only sound that could be heard as certain clothing was removed and their bodies became one. Danielle sighed against his neck as they rocked together in exquisite slow motion. Her legs tightened around him and she clutched his back as her release came upon her. Desmond bit down on her shoulder to stifle his groan as he had his own release. Afterward they lay together naked and relaxed. They pulled their clothes together and drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.
The first pale light of morning filtered through the jungle. Kelvin sat up and stretched. He glanced over at Locke. The bald man was still asleep. He stood, and picking up his pack went to sit on a fallen log nearby. Kelvin took out his knife and a mango. He paused. His bag had been tossed. Everything was neatly inside but he could tell it wasn't quite how he'd left it. He looked over at Locke again. The older man must have done a little investigating while he was sleeping. Kelvin wasn't too upset about it. If their positions had been reversed he would have done the exact same thing, except he would have made damn sure everything was put back exactly as it was. Across the way Locke sat up and rubbed his eyes.
Chapter 9
"Morning." Kelvin said. "I sure could go for some coffee. How about you?" Locke smiled. "Unfortunately we didn't bring any." He sat on a log opposite Kelvin and took a passion fruit and an energy bar out of his pack. "Why were you in Australia?" Kelvin asked Locke. He knew the answer from the file he had read but he thought it would be a good question to ask. "Vacation." Locke answered. He took a bite of his fruit. "Why were you there?" Kelvin opened a nutri-bar. "Same reason as you.I went touring with a couple buddies of mine." They finished their breakfast and prepared to head for the hatch Kelvin had supposedly been staying in. Kelvin's plan was, after they had a look around the hatch he would tell Locke he had something else to show him. If the bald man agreed he would take him to the camp of the others. He hoped Locke wouldn't give him any trouble. Kelvin had gotten to like the older man and didn't want to have to resort to force unless it was absolutely necessary.
Several hours later they arrived at the abandoned hatch. It had indeed been a supply station. (The arrow was its counterpart across the island.) Kelvin had originally discovered it on one of his explorations several years ago. Now it was empty except for some carefully placed signs of habitation. "Here we are." Kelvin pushed open the door and they entered. He felt for a switch and flicked it. A single bulb came alight, only partly successful in banishing the shadows that permeated the hatch. "There really isn't much to see here." Kelvin said. "The previous owners didn't leave much when they left." They were standing in a room that was empty except for several worn metal storage lockers. "You lived here, huh?" Locke said, looking around. He seemed distracted by something. "Yup. I did." Locke continued looking around him. He still had some doubts about his companion. Those were pushed to the back of his mind by concern about his friends. Who knows what the others were doing to them? "We'd better get going pretty soon. I want to be back at camp by dark." Kelvin looked at him. " That's fine by me." He paused. " Is something bothering you, John?" he asked. "You seem distracted all of a sudden." Locke turned. "You're very perceptive Joe." He smiled slightly. "Several of our group have been taken captive. I'm going to lead a party to find them." Kelvin put a look of surprise on his face. "Taken captive?" Locke nodded. "There is another group of people on the island. We call them the others. They tried to take a couple of us before. This time they were successful."
"I think I saw a couple of these others once." Kelvin said. "Before I came here I was awakened one morning by the sound of people in the jungle near me. There were several of them. They looked kind of like hillbillies. Ragged clothes, no shoes. I followed them secretly for a bit. Their leader seemed to be an older man with a beard." This got Locke's attention. "That sounds like them." Kelvin and Locke left the hatch and headed back to the beach. "I'd like to join your rescue party." Kelvin said. "I think I already have enough people." Locke said, a little too quickly. "Are you sure about that? It wouldn't hurt to have another person along who knows how to handle a weapon. Besides, you'll need someone who can take you to their camp." Locke stopped dead in his tracks. "The day after I saw them I retraced my steps and went exploring a little further. I think I found their encampment." Kelvin hoped Locke believed him. "Why should I believe you?" Locke said. "I'm telling the truth." Kelvin replied. "I thought you'd appreciate my assistance." Locke softened his tone slightly, realizing he may have been a bit harsh. "I guess you can come along if you want. I won't take responsibility for you though. Kelvin smiled. "That's fine by me." He thought about this new development. Ben would kill him if he brought a posse to the camp. He had to figure out how to get Locke to go with him alone. "So what's your plan?" he asked Locke. "We go back to the beach camp, get our group together, then either you or Hurley lead us to the others." Kelvin shook his head. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea. I was thinking you and I would go from here. Once we've scoped things out we can go back for reinforcements." Locke didn't seem to like that idea."You want to go there with no one else? Are you nuts?"
"No. But I think you are for wanting to go charging in there with a posse when you don't know what the situation is. I'm not saying we act alone, just that we do a little recon first ." He paused. "That's just basic military tactics. What you're suggesting is a clusterfuck waiting to happen." Locke was quiet thinking about this. "You certainly know a lot about the military." Kelvin nodded. "I was army special ops." he said by way of explanation. Locke still didn't like the idea of going without a group but Joe's plan made sense. He knew there was a good sized group of Others. Locke didn't know how well armed they were or where his friends were being held. He stopped and adjusted his pack. He decided against his better judgment to take a leap of faith and trust. "Lead on, Macduff" He said to Kelvin , smiling. "You made a smart choice , John." Kelvin said, also smiling. He was relieved that Locke had agreed without a problem. "The camp is about a day's walk from here. I hope you're up for it." "Don't worry about me." Locke replied.
Desmond walked across the sand clad only in a pair of Boxers. He felt refreshed after an early morning dip in the ocean. Danielle sat in front of his tent slicing fruit for their breakfast. He slipped inside the canvas shelter and pulled on his shirt and pants. He grabbed his shoes and stepped out to eat. "You'll be ready to go after breakfast, yeah?" he said to Danielle. "The sooner the better." she replied. Desmond and Danielle ate their simple meal, then loaded their packs with supplies and began their trek. "About last night." Danielle said as they walked ."I'm sorry if I coerced you into anything. I know how you feel about Penny." Desmond looked at her. "Don't give it another thought, sistah. I didn't do anything I didn't want to." They continued on their way and reached the remains of the swan an hour later. Desmond whistled softly as he surveyed the crater that filled the clearing. He said a silent prayer of thanks that he survived with only some scratches and bruised pride. "What happened here?" Danielle asked. "The hatch imploded after I activated the failsafe." Desmond explained. There was no sign of anyone else in the area. Looking around, Desmond did see two sets of footprints in the dirt. "I think we just missed them" he said. "They shouldn't be too far ahead though." He suggested they follow the tracks for a while and see if they could catch up.
Redemption
Category: action, adventure,drama
Rating: PG to PG-13
Spoilers: Some spoilers for "Further instructions" . If you don't want to know the fate of Desmond and Locke don't read any further until after Oct. 18th.
Disclaimer: All Lost characters are the property of ABC and their creators. I derive no profit from this and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: this is a sequel to "Reconnaissance". You don't have to read that story first to understand this but it helps.
Chapter 1
Early morning, Others camp
Ben Linus sat at the table in his residence eating his breakfast. He reached for the French press pot and poured himself a cup of coffee. The hand holding the cup shook slightly and it took all his concentration to steady it. The tingling in his fingers and toes was getting worse lately too. Ben put that thought out of his mind. He didn't have time to focus on his physical frailties or grim prognosis at the moment. There were more important things to worry about. Nibbling distractedly on a piece of toast he thought about Kelvin and what he had sent him to do. He liked the former intelligence agent but wasn't sure if he completely trusted him. Hopefully he would be successful in infiltrating the survivors camp and bringing John Locke back with him. Ben glanced at the clock. It was almost time to meet with Juliet. He had mixed feelings about that. They had been much more than friends once. Now they were colleagues only and their relationship was strained but pleasant. Ben couldn't help but be a little jealous of how she was treating Jack. Making him homemade soup and juicy cheeseburgers and spending, in Ben's opinion anyway too much time with Jack. “I've been diagnosed with a serious tumor on my spine and she can't even be bothered to ask how I'm feeling or how I'm handling it.” he thought bitterly. Finishing his coffee Ben stood and cleared the table. It was time to get on with his day.
In the jungle, mid-morning
Locke and Kelvin walked through the jungle on their way to the camp of the Others. So far everything was going according to plan. Kelvin kept his senses tuned to everything around him. There was no one around and it didn't appear they were being followed. He thought about what would happen when they arrived. Ben hadn't told him what he had in mind for Locke but Kelvin could imagine it was more than just tea and a nice conversation. He hoped they weren't planning to hurt Locke or experiment on him.
A ways back Desmond and Danielle arrived at the abandoned bunker. There were more footprints but no sign of Locke or Kelvin. “I think we bloody missed them again.” Desmond said. “Do we even have a chance to catch up to them?” Danielle asked. Desmond thought about this. “Possibly.” he replied. “Even if we don't we can keep following their tracks. That might be better anyway.” He remembered what had happened the last time he had followed Kelvin. He certainly didn't want a repeat of that. Keeping their distance would definitely be the most prudent thing. They stopped for a short break then continued on following the tracks through the jungle. They had been walking for a while when Desmond heard the faint sound of voices ahead of them. “Do you really know where the Others' camp is?” A voice that sounded like Locke said. “Have a little faith, John. I wouldn't lead you on a wild goose chase.” Desmond shivered. That could only have been Kelvin. He'd know that deep voice anywhere. “Is that them?” Danielle asked. Desmond nodded. “Yes it is.” Danielle looked at him. “Why don't we ask to join them?” Desmond didn't like that idea at all. “I don't think that would be a good idea.” he replied. “I don't think they would welcome the company.” He knew Kelvin wouldn't. “We can keep following them from a distance. I think that would be safer.” Danielle didn't like this but she accepted it. “I thought they were your friends?” “They are.” Desmond answered. “It's kind of complicated. I was told to go back to the beach and not say I met this friend in the jungle. He would not be pleased if I showed up now, even if it was for a good reason.” They continued walking, keeping a safe distance from the other two. Desmond hoped Kelvin would be distracted talking to Locke and would not be aware they were being followed.
Others camp, Hydra station
Ben and Juliet stood at the observation window watching Jack Shepard pace angrily in his containment room. The TV was showing a tape of cartoons (Space Ghost and Sponge Bob) although Jack wasn't paying much attention to it. “He still isn't very cooperative.” Juliet said. “Give him time. He'll come to see things our way soon enough.” Juliet turned to Ben. “Maybe having another of his friends held captive will help change his mind. If Kelvin is successful, that is.” Ben didn't like the edge in her voice when she said this last. “He will be, don't you worry.” He couldn't keep the edge out of his own voice. “Why don't you care about me anymore?” he wanted to ask, but didn't. “I don't quite trust this Kelvin.” Juliet said. “What do you actually know about him?” Ben looked at her. “Enough. I know he was with the CIA and was an intelligence officer for the army. He was also an employee of the Dharma Initiative, though not a high ranking one. I trust him to do the mission I sent him on.” Juliet looked at Jack. He was sitting on the bunk staring sullenly at the TV. Ben didn't like the look currently on Juliet's face. He sincerely hoped she wasn't developing feelings for the doctor. Ben stared at the glass in front of him. His back was beginning to hurt but he forced the feeling from his mind. He absolutely could not show weakness now. “You think Danny will get over losing Colleen?” Juliet asked. “I think he will in time. It's hard to lose someone you love. Especially like that.” Juliet nodded. “You didn't seem too upset about it.” Ben looked at her. “Just because I didn't show it doesn't mean I wasn't moved. There is a time and a place for things like that.” He wondered how upset Juliet would be if he died. “I'll have to have a talk with him. I don't want him roughing Sawyer up too much yet.” They walked out of the viewing room.
Chapter 2
In the jungle
Kelvin and Locke were getting close to the encampment where the Others had Jack, Kate and Sawyer. (They were still a good distance from where they lived, but that wasn't where he had been told to bring Locke.) Kelvin wondered if there were sentries stationed anywhere in the jungle. If he was in charge he would definitely have lookouts stationed in the area leading to their base. So far he hadn't seen anybody. He was actually glad of this. Ben's people were loyal but most of them didn't have any military training or intelligence training. Kelvin didn't like security being left to a bunch of wanna bes and weekend warriors. Some of them also had a propensity for being trigger happy. “It's not much farther now.” he told Locke. The sun was getting low in the sky. Hopefully they would arrive at the camp by dark. He would suggest to Locke that they do some sneaking and peeking under cover of night. Once they were inside it would be out of his hands. “You sure this is where they're being held?” Locke asked. “This appears to be the Others' base of operations. I'm not exactly sure where in there your friends are being held.” Locke nodded. “Did you happen to notice what kind of weapons they had?” Locke asked. “One of our group was captured by them a while ago when he went looking for his son. He said the group was pretty primitive.” Kelvin looked at Locke. He was talking about Michael. The young father hadn't seen the Others' real base and had been only given certain information. Kelvin still didn't understand why they gave up Walt so easily. He sounded like a good bargaining chip. “They did seem kind of raggedy, but I wouldn't underestimate them.” He paused. “I didn't see any weapons except for a couple guns.” Locke looked like he was thinking about this. “I hope you're right.” He turned to Kelvin. “I still don't like being here almost unarmed.” Just then a sound could be heard through the trees. Someone was coming. Kelvin gestured for Locke to get back and they both slipped behind a nearby grouping of trees. Several of Ben's people stepped into the clearing. So he had sent watchmen after all. Kelvin didn't recognize any of the men except that they were Others. Probably low level grunts. His closest associates like Tom and Danny Pickett would never get sent on sentry duty. (Good thing too. Pickett was known to have a short fuse and to be trigger happy.) “Let's go this way.” Kelvin suggested. “See if we can evade them.” They walked deeper into the jungle going parallel to their original path. Hopefully they hadn't been seen.
A short while later they turned and went north, the direction of the camp. “I think we lost them.” Kelvin said to Locke. They hadn't seen hide nor hair of the sentries since they had changed paths. “Here we are.” They stepped out of the shelter of the trees to see the settlement in the distance. “We should probably wait until full dark before we go any farther. I don't know how many more of our friends are out there waiting for trespassers.” Kelvin told Locke. “They're not my friends.” Locke said. Kelvin nodded. “Mine either.” They hunkered down to wait. Kelvin turned at the sound of a branch breaking behind them. He wished he had more than a pocket knife to defend himself with. “Hold it right there.” a voice said. Several more of Ben's goon squad stood there armed with semi-automatic rifles, Kalashnikov if Kelvin wasn't mistaken. The question of where Ben's group had gotten Russian sub machine guns was pushed to the back of his mind by his irritation at being caught like a fish in a barrel. “We don't want any trouble.” Locke said. He stood slowly. Kelvin followed suit. “We're not armed.” He held out his empty hands. “You can put the guns down.” He wanted to bark “Do you know who I am?” but knew it probably wouldn't do much good. He didn't know any of these men either. The Others held their guns level but loosened their fingers on the triggers. Locke looked at Kelvin as if to say “They only had several guns, huh?” Kelvin shrugged back. He had a “so shoot me” look on his face. “You two are coming with us.” one of the men said. “ I guess we don't have much of a choice.” Locke didn't look happy but he knew he was outnumbered and out gunned. One of the Others bound their wrists while the other two stood guard. “I'm sorry” Kelvin mouthed to Locke as they were led away. He actually wasn't too upset by this latest development. Once they arrived and were brought to someone in charge he would be released. He hoped these goons got their asses handed to them for capturing one of their own. Locke would be kept in custody, unfortunately. Kelvin glowered under the hood that had been roughly put over his head. His expression changed to a smile as he imagined what he would do to these inept guards if he ever got to interrogate them. Even though he couldn't see he had a rough idea of where they were going as they were prodded along. He hoped Locke was doing okay.
A short time later there was the sound of a key in a lock and a door being opened. The bag was yanked off his head and he was shoved inside a small room. He assumed Locke was being taken somewhere similar. The door was closed and he was left alone. “If someone doesn't come soon and untie me heads are going to roll.” he thought.
Chapter 3
Out in the jungle, Desmond and Danielle ducked behind some trees as they heard the sound of someone approaching. “I think we're getting close.” Desmond said. They watched as several Others with guns stepped out of the trees. “Where do you think Locke and your friend went?” Danielle asked. Desmond wasn't completely sure since the footprints veered off near here. “They probably took a roundabout way to avoid them” He gestured to the Others. “I think we should do the same.” Danielle nodded. They slipped silently deeper into the jungle. They continued walking for a while, keeping to this same circuitous path. There didn't seem to be any sign of the sentries. Maybe they had lost them, if they could be so lucky. "Halt right there.” Desmond and Danielle turned. Several men stood blocking their path. There was a clicking sound as they cocked their rifles. "We don't want any trouble, mates." Desmond said."What are you doing out here?" one of them asked. "You're kind of far from your camp." Desmond thought for a moment. "We were out hunting. We got a little lost." He put an innocent look on his face. "Is that so?" the guard replied. He turned to his companions. "Bind their hands. They're coming with us." "Is that really necessary?" Desmond asked. "I'm afraid it is." the man replied. "You can't do this." Danielle protested. "You're mistaken there little lady. We certainly can." the man paused. "You're on our side of the island now." Desmond and Danielle looked at each other. He hadn't wanted anything like this to happen. "Hey. Easy, brutha." Desmond said as his hands were yanked roughly behind his back and tied. He saw they were doing the same to Danielle moments before a bag was pulled over his head. "Let's move it out." one of the men said. Desmond felt himself being shoved forward. He was angry but there was nothing much he could do about it at the moment.
In the camp Ben stood listening to the sentries give their report. "We caught two interlopers out in the jungle." The leader, a man named Adams said. "A bald guy and a big guy wearing glasses." Ben nodded. "Were they middle aged men or younger?" he asked. "I'd say middle aged." Adams replied. "The bald fellow looked like the older of the two." Ben thought about this. The bald man had to be John Locke. He had a pretty good idea who his companion was, and if he was right was sure he'd be fit to be tied by now. Why he hadn't just brought Locke to them was a puzzle But Ben wasn't too worried about it. Kelvin was known for his unconventional methods. "Thank you. You've done well" Ben said, dismissing the guards. As soon as they left he went to deal with the new prisoners, stopping to get Tom and Juliet on the way.
In his cell Kelvin sat and stewed. How dare they leave him in here like this. He looked up at the sound of a key in the lock. "On your feet." a voice said. Kelvin stood and glared in its general direction. Danny Pickett stepped into the room. "Well, it's about time." Kelvin said. "Did I say you could speak?" Pickett growled. "Danny, for God's sake it's me, Kelvin. You can cut the tough guy crap." You never were any good at it he added silently to himself. Kelvin knew the other man had just lost his wife but he still felt like slugging him. Pickett looked more closely at Kelvin. "Would you untie me already?" Kelvin growled. Pickett did so. "I didn't recognize you right away." he said. "Why the hell were you skulking around in the jungle? You should have brought your prisoner straight here." Kelvin rubbed his wrists. They were slightly red and raw from being tied. "Don't tell me what I should do or how to do my job. I was a spook for over ten years. I know what I'm doing." Pickett had a slightly different opinion but knew better than to voice it. "I'm sorry about Colleen." Kelvin said, softening his tone a bit. "I can only imagine how hard it is to lose someone like that." Pickett's hands were balled into fists. "They'll pay for what they did to her." he said. He gestured for Kelvin to follow him and they left the cell. Kelvin was very glad to get out of there. He hoped Locke was okay.
Chapter 4
In a nearby holding room Locke sat on the bunk pondering what had happened. Part of him was angry for trusting Joe (if that really was his name) and going along with his plan. Another part was glad he hadn't brought anyone else along to get caught. He also wondered if it could have been a set up. There was a slight possibility but it wasn't that likely. Joe had seemed just as surprised as he was to see the Others there with guns pointed at them. And he had been taken prisoner too. Locke didn't like to think that he could have been that gullible to be tricked and used again. Just then there was a sound at the door. Locke peered into the darkness. Two men stood silhouetted in the doorway. Locke's eyes widened as he recognized them as the man he had known as Henry Gale and the leader of the group he, Jack, and Sawyer had met in the jungle, now without his beard. “Hello, John” Ben said. “I can see you're surprised to see me.” That was an understatement if Locke had ever heard one. Ben stepped forward. “Allow me to properly introduce myself. My name is Benjamin Linus.” He smiled at Locke. “I'm sorry I had to deceive you before.” Locke looked at Ben, speechless for a moment. “What happened to Joe, the man I was captured with? “ he asked “And where are Jack, Kate, and Sawyer?” Locke's shock had turned to anger and outrage. Ben smiled. “They're all fine. There's nothing you can do for them right now anyway.” He turned to Tom. “Take Mr. Locke to more permanent quarters. I'll be back to talk to him more later.” Ben turned and left. Locke stared at the man that remained, Tom Ben had called him. He was still trying to process what he had just learned. “Henry Gale” was really named Ben and it seemed he was in charge of the Others. (this group at least.) Locke wondered who the “Him” he had been so afraid of was and if that had been another lie. He looked at Tom. “Where's your beard?” he asked. Tom smiled and chuckled softly. “We don't need the disguises anymore. At least around here.” Locke looked puzzled. “Disguises?” “Didn't your friends tell you about that? They knew my beard was fake when we caught them on the dock.” Tom replied. “No they didn't.” Locke replied. He wondered what else he had been kept in the dark about. He had continually told Jack that keeping secrets was dangerous, but would the doctor listen to him? No way. “We'd better get going.” Tom said. Ben wanted you moved right away.” Locke looked at him. “And if I refuse to go?” Tom took several steps into the room. “That's your choice, but you'll only be making things more difficult for yourself. I don't want to have to use force but I will if necessary.” Locke continued to look at Tom. He kept his face carefully devoid of emotion. Inside he was fuming. How dare they threaten him like this. “I guess I don't have much choice, do I?” he said. Locke didn't particularly relish the thought of being kept prisoner, but he liked the alternative even less. “You made the smart choice.” Tom said. Locke stood and Tom led him from the room. “Can you tell me where you're taking me?” Locke asked. “You'll see when you get there.” Tom replied. They walked up to a large steel door. Tom input a code and it opened with a beep and a hiss. “After you.” They stepped into a nondescript entry hall with a flight of stairs at the end of it. Tom led Locke down the stairs into a steel and concrete tunnel. They followed its twists and turns until they came to another door. Tom input another code and the door hissed open revealing another set of stairs. “We're almost there.” Tom said as he led Locke up the stairs. They stepped out into a steel hallway. Tom led Locke partway down the hallway to another door. He opened it and motioned for Locke to go inside. The room was medium sized and furnished somewhat as the living quarters in the swan hatch had been. There was a single bed, a table and two chairs, a small love seat, and a TV set. Another door opened into what appeared to be bathroom facilities. Locke looked around curiously. “Ben will be back to talk to you soon.” Tom said “And someone will be around with food in the morning.” Locke nodded. “You're sure my friends haven't been harmed?” He asked. “They're fine.” Tom replied. He left and the door hissed closed behind him. Locke looked around the room again. There was a pitcher of water and a bowl of fruit on the table. Locke went over and picked up a mango. How dare they keep him and his friends prisoner. No matter how nice the surroundings captivity was still captivity. Angrily Locke threw the mango at the wall. It bounced off and hit the floor with a dull thud. He looked at the bowl and thought about picking up another fruit, but his anger had subsided as quickly as it had come. Locke left the table and walked over to the TV. What possible channels could they get out here? He pressed the power button and the set came to life. As expected there was nothing but static. Locke thumbed the power off and went to sit on the couch. He wished the Others had thought to leave some reading material.
In an observation room similar to the one by Jack's cell Ben and Kelvin stood watching Locke. “He looks like a caged animal.” Ben said as he watched. “I don't blame him.” Kelvin replied. “I'd be acting the same way if someone locked me in a room like that with no explanation.” He turned to Ben. “Let me talk to him. I owe him that.” This surprised Ben. “You owe him? What do you mean?” Kelvin turned to the smaller man. “In the time I was undercover I got to like John. I brought him here. I feel I at least owe him some kind of explanation.” Ben didn't seem to agree. “You were doing your job. Nothing more. You don't owe him anything.” Kelvin's jaw tightened at Ben's statements. “I still want to talk to him. I won't tell him anything about what you have planned.” Ben considered this. His hands were tingling again. Somewhat absently he rubbed them as he stared into Locke's cell. “I guess it would be okay if you spoke to him.” Ben flexed the fingers on his right hand. “You okay? “ Kelvin asked, seeing this. “Huh? I'm fine.” Kelvin wasn't completely sure about that. “I won't be too long talking to John.” he said as he turned to go. Ben nodded. “Just don't tell him anything.”
Locke was pacing frustratedly in his room. He hated being a captive. He hated the lack of information even more. He turned at the sound of someone at the door. “Are you finally going to let me out of here?” he said hopefully. “Unfortunately I can't.” Kelvin said as he entered the room. Locke looked at his visitor with surprise. It was Joe O'Neill but he was dressed differently and not wearing glasses. “I owe you an apology John.” he said. “My real name isn't Joe O'Neill as you've probably gathered by now. I'm Kelvin Inman. I was sent to your camp to bring you here.” Locke listened to this with a growing sense of shock and betrayal. The name also got his attention. “Your name is Kelvin? Like the Kelvin who was in the hatch with Desmond?” Kelvin nodded. “That's me.” Locke stared at him. “Desmond said Kelvin was dead.” Kelvin chuckled softly. “He thought I was. You should have seen the look on his face when I ran into him in the jungle several days ago. He really thought he had killed me.” Locke's hands had clenched into fists. “You tricked me.” he said angrily. “I'm sorry. Really I am.” Kelvin answered. “I never meant for you to be harmed, and I still don't want that to happen.” He paused. “You'll understand more once you've been here for a while.” Locke stood. “Why did you pick me?” He asked. “Is it because I'm easily coerced? An easy mark?” He couldn't hide the bitterness in his voice, nor did he want to. Kelvin shook his head. “It wasn't that at all. I wish I could tell you the real reason but I can't.” Locke listened to this with a “hogwash” look on his face. “I know you probably want to punch me and I don't blame you.” Kelvin said. “I really am sorry and I hope you'll come to understand why this was necessary.” Locke glared at him and said nothing.
Chapter 5
“Where the bloody hell are you taking us?” Desmond asked as he walked along. His voice was muffled by the burlap bag over his head. “Shut your mouth and keep walking.” One of the guards said. He prodded Desmond roughly in the back to keep moving. Desmond wanted to fight back in some way but was hindered by his bound hands and the fact he couldn't see anything. “I just wanted to know where we're going.” He said softly. “You'll find out soon enough.” the guard said. “Don't waste your time talking with them. It won't do any good.” Danielle told Desmond. She cried out when the guard shoved her. “Frenchie's right. The less both of you say the better.” Desmond felt anger rising inside of him. Who gave these Others the right to treat people this way? They continued on in silence until the guard yanked roughly on their arms and said “We're here.” Desmond heard a door being unlocked and felt himself being pushed inside a room. The bag was pulled off his head and the door slammed shut. He assumed the same was being done to Danielle. In the faint light that permeated the room he could make out a cot and a chair. Hopefully he wouldn't be kept in here for too long. There didn't appear to be any bugs, thankfully and the guards were gone. Desmond's back still hurt from where they had prodded him. Dejected, he sat on the cot and thought about the strange turn the day had taken. He felt very bad for letting Danielle down. How would they find Alex when they were both prisoners?
Ben stood at the viewing window watching Locke and Kelvin talk. The two men seemed to be in a rather heated discussion. He wondered if he should have let the former CIA agent go in there. Before he could give this any more thought Tom came into the room. "We've got a "situation" on our hands." he told Ben. "Our second security group picked up two more people in the jungle not far from here." This got Ben's interest. "I don't think they are part of the group of plane crash survivors." Tom continued. "Then who are they?" Ben asked. Tom shrugged. "They're a French woman and a Scottish man. That's all we know right now." This intrigued Ben even more. Who could these people be? He had an idea about the man but couldn't confirm it until he had a name or some other info. "Have they been taken to the holding cells?" he asked. "They have." Tom replied. "Good." Ben said. "Go and talk to them. Find out what you can about them." Tom nodded and left the room. Ben continued thinking about the new captives. How had they found their way as close to the camp as they did? Had they just stumbled upon it or did they know where they were going? He would have to have a word with Kelvin when he had a moment. Sighing Ben turned back to the viewing window. Things were fast becoming complicated.
Chapter 6
A few moments later Tom walked into the building where the new captives were held. He thought about what Ben had told him to do. He was always ordering him to do something. Perhaps that wouldn't be going on for much longer. Tom wondered how long Ben could keep his diagnosis to himself. (and the couple other people like him and Juliet who knew about it) Ben was the type who would rather die than show weakness. He was hiding the physical effects of the tumor well, but Tom could see the echoes of pain in his eyes and the way his hands shook sometimes. Pushing concern for his friend to the back of his mind Tom entered the building. He walked down the main hallway and stopped at a door marked with the designation 1A. He keyed in his access code and the lock disengaged. He stepped in the small room, closing the door behind him. Desmond sat sullenly on the small cot. He looked up when Tom entered. "Have you come to let me out of here, brutha?" he asked. Tom chuckled. "That's a good one." he looked at Desmond. "What's your name?" Desmond looked at him warily. He hesitated for several moments, then spoke. "I'm Desmond. Who are you?" Tom looked at him somewhat menacingly. "My name is Tom. That's all you need to know at present." He hoped Desmond wouldn't give him any trouble. “Where did you come from?” he asked. “Were you on flight 815?” Desmond wondered how honest he should be about that. “No. I bloody wasn't.” He replied. “My boat crashed on this island three years ago.” This got Tom's attention. He thought about the boat the survivors had used to get to this side of the island. The boat Colleen had been shot on. “Would your boat happen to have been a sailboat?” he asked. “Aye. That it was.” Desmond replied. “I was sailing in a race around the world when I crashed here.” So it was his boat. “What were you and your lady friend doing on this part of the island?” Desmond looked at Tom. “We were out hiking.” he lied. “We got a wee bit lost.” Honestly, he added “I didn't know there were parts of the island I was supposed to stay away from.” Desmond hoped Tom believed him. As he sat staring at his captor images came into his mind. Desmond felt confused. He had been having these flashes of insight ever since the hatch explosion. “Regardless of that, you were still poking around where you didn't belong.” Tom was saying. “I think you have more serious things than me to worry about, brutha.” Desmond said. “What the hell do you mean?” Tom demanded to know. “Is one of your friends a slim bloke, a little shorter than you with spiky brown hair?” Tom nodded warily. “Yes.” Desmond looked at him. “He has something physically wrong with him. Something serious that will eventually kill him.” From Tom's poorly hidden surprise Desmond knew he was right. “How do you know this?” Tom asked. “I don't bloody know, brutha.” Desmond answered. “ I just know things somehow.” This disturbed Tom more than he cared to admit. Ben would definitely want to be informed. How could this man have known about the tumor? Tom wouldn't have put it past the sentries to be loose lipped but they didn't know about it to tell anyone. Ben had only told him and Juliet, and that had been after a lot of coaxing on their part. To Tom's knowledge Desmond hadn't been in the medical building so he couldn't have seen the x-rays as Jack had. “What else do you know?” he asked Desmond. “Not a whole lot more. The problem is in his back.” he paused. “It's a good thing you have Jack here, yeah.”Tom looked at the Scotsman. “Someone will take you to more permanent quarters in the morning.” He turned and left the room, wanting to talk to Ben. Left alone, Desmond pondered what had just transpired.
In the Hydra station Locke and Kelvin stood face to face in Locke's cell. "You used me." Locke said. The pain and hurt was clearly evident in his voice. "It was necessary." Kelvin replied. Locke glared at him. He was only several inches shorter than the former CIA operative and could almost look at him eye to eye. "You'll thank me eventually." Kelvin said. "I doubt it." Locke felt like slugging the other man but didn't know what good it would do. Kelvin stepped back towards the door. "I knew you wouldn't be happy but I thought you deserved an explanation." He didn't want to get involved in a punch up either. He knew he could take Locke if it came down to it, but really hoped it wouldn't. “I'll be sure you're treated well.” He said. “Provided you cooperate.” The older man's eyes continued boring holes into him.
"Cooperate with what?" Locke asked. "You'll find out in time." Kelvin turned and left, locking the door behind him. Locke stared after him, still seething inside. How could he have been so gullible that he got tricked again? He thought back to a time a few years ago when everything had been simpler and clearer.
Chapter 7
John Locke whistled contentedly as he crossed the parking lot of Raley's Supermarket . His arms were loaded with grocery bags containing the week's shopping. As he approached his truck he heard a ripping sound as one of the bags gave way. Helen had always told him to double bag. This is what he got for not heeding that advice this time. Helen. The thought of her was like a knife in his heart. John cursed sharply as cans and bottles spilled onto the blacktop in front of him. He set the remaining bag down and began gathering his wayward groceries. "They don't make brown bags like they used to." a voice said. John looked up. A solidly built woman of around his age was helping pick up the spilled cans. She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt and had blunt cut chin length hair. "I hate when this happens." she said smiling. "My name's Jan." She helped John put the salvaged food items in the back of his truck. "John Locke." They shook hands. "Thanks for your help." Jan smiled. "My pleasure." They were joined by a well built man in jeans and a plaid shirt. "This is my husband Mike." Jan said. "Pleased to meet you." Mike looked at John. "You from around here?" John nodded. "I live in Tustin." "Nice area." Mike agreed. "We live up in the valley not too far from here." John nodded. "Don't get out that way much. It's beautiful country though." "It certainly is." Jan agreed. She looked at the lettering on the side of John's truck, "Welcome Home home inspection service, John Locke owner" “You're a home inspector?” She asked. “Yes.” John replied. “I'm kind of on sabbatical right now.” Jan nodded. “Mike and I are farmers of a sort.” Mike smiled in agreement. “Sustainable agriculture. We believe in being environmentally responsible and giving back to the land.” He paused. “Do you like to hunt, John?” Locke set the cans he was holding in the bed of his truck. “Sometimes. I haven't gone lately.” Mike smiled. “Like minded individuals are always welcome to join us. If you'd ever like a weekend away from the city we'd love to have you.” He paused. “The hunting and fishing is great.” He took out a small pad of paper from his pocket and wrote their address on it. Below that he drew a small map. “You shouldn't have any trouble finding the place.” he said handing the paper to John. “We're just off I-80.” Locke looked at the paper in his hands. Big Sky Farm. A weekend in the country did sound pleasant. “I'll have to think about that. See when I'm free.” Both Mike and Jan smiled at him. “we'll look forward to it. It was a pleasure meeting you, John.” They shook hands. “It was good meeting you.” They walked over to their truck and John got in his. He looked at the paper again. He would definitely have to think about this.
Several weeks later John Locke drove peacefully down I-80. It was a beautiful sunny day, traffic was reasonably light, and Dire Straits blasted on the CD player. Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel in time to “The walk of life” John thought about what he was doing. These people were practically strangers. Still, the invitation had seemed too good to pass up. John needed to get away for a while, sort things out. A short time later he came to the turn indicated on the map. Turning the radio down a bit he pulled onto a gravel road that seemingly led to nowhere.
Locke drove down this road wondering if he was going the right direction. At the end he came to an unmarked driveway. Taking a deep breath he turned down it. On either side of the groomed dirt and gravel were lush green trees going back as far as he could see. As he continued on verdant fields and a number of buildings became visible. Locke pulled into the circular parking area and took a good look at his surroundings. He turned off the engine and straightened his cap. Big Sky farm appeared to be quite an operation. He stepped out of the truck and reached for his bag. "Stop right there." a voice said. Locke saw two large men approaching. They didn't look happy to see him. "What are you doing here?" one of them asked. "My name is John Locke. Mike and Jan invited me." Locke said. "Pete, Tom it's alright. Mr. Locke is our guest." Mike said as he walked up to them. Locke was very glad to see him. "I'm glad you decided to come." He said as he led Locke to the house. "Sorry about the welcoming committee. We can't be too careful around here." Locke nodded. "I understand completely." He did, mostly. Part of him was curious though. Why did an organic farm need such tight security? He didn't think it was his place to ask quite yet.
They walked into the main complex. Locke was surprised to see a good number of people around. "We usually have around fifteen or twenty people here." Mike said. He nodded at several women who passed them carrying baskets of apples. "You just have to see the orchard. It's beautiful this time of year." Mike took Locke's bag to a room in the big, rambling house then showed him around the grounds. John marveled at how peaceful and organized everything seemed . "What is that structure for?" he asked indicating a small wood and straw enclosure about the size of a tepee. "That's our sweat lodge." Mike explained."Anyone who wants to can go in there and meditate, commune with nature." This intrigued John. He wondered about trying it himself .That evening he sat at a long table with everyone else there sharing a meal of fried free range chicken, potato salad, fresh vegetables, corn bread, and fruits from the orchard. He had never felt more peaceful.
In his comfortably appointed cell, Locke felt anything but peaceful. He went to the table and poured himself a glass of water. Picking up the glass he hesitated. It looked like water and smelled like water, but what if it had something in it? He wasn't sure if he could tell if any drugs had been added, but it didn't hurt to be extra careful.
In another building Tom was having a heated discussion with Ben. "There's something about this Desmond. He knows things..." Ben looked at Tom. "I'm sure it's just coincidence."
"How can you say that? He knew about your tumor. How in the hell would he have known about that?" Ben didn't have a good answer for him. "That is a puzzle." He pondered this for a few moments. How could this man have known what he did? Ben wondered what else he "just knew". He also wondered about something else. "You said his name is Desmond?" Tom nodded. "That's what he told me." Kelvin had mentioned living in the Swan hatch with a man named Desmond that he had found washed up on the beach. It wouldn't be that strange if this was the same man. He hadn't been in the Swan when Ben was there, but that didn't mean he wasn't on the island at that time. He would have to ask Kelvin about that, among other things. "What should we do about our "guests"?" Tom asked. "Nothing right now. We need to get more information." he thought for a moment."I'd also like to find out more about this Desmond's "abilities" if he really has any." Tom looked at Ben. "You want him moved to the cages in the morning?" Ben shook his head. "Not yet. I have something else in mind for him." Tom wondered what that could be but knew better than to question Ben about it. The two men stood in companionable silence thinking about what they would have to do in the morning.
Locke lay on the narrow bed in his "quarters" and tried to sleep. His mind kept going over the events of the day and things that had happened in his past. Taking some slow, deep breaths he began a relaxation exercise he had learned while he was living at Big Sky farm. Starting at his toes he concentrated on each body part, imagining cool blue light flowing over him. He tensed and relaxed each group of muscles. Closing his eyes, Locke attempted to clear his mind.
Chapter 8
The smell of burning fragrant wood was all around him. Locke tossed a bunch of sage and meditation herbs onto the fire. Soon those scents mingled with the others, making him feel slightly dizzy and heady.The rough walls of the sweat lodge seemed very close around him. Locke looked at the diffuse light coming through chinks in the wood and straw and forced himself to relax. Wearing only a pair of cotton pants Locke sat cross legged on the straw covered floor. He picked up a small bowl from the floor next to him and looked inside contemplating its contents. Mike had said the mixture would help facilitate meditation but hadn't told him exactly what it was. Locke had never tried any drugs and had no experience with hallucinogens. He was somewhat leery about trying this but didn't want to admit it. Locke cautiously dipped his fingers into the bowl and scooped up a small amount of the thick paste. It was gray in color and smelled like a mixture of herbal tea and the poultice his foster mother had put on his chest when he had a cold as a little boy. He looked toward the door of the lodge. Mike was sitting outside in case there was a problem. The thought of that was both comforting and disquieting to Locke. If going in the sweat lodge was so safe as he had been told, why did someone need to keep watch? Taking a deep breath Locke put the dab of paste in his mouth and swallowed. It tasted slightly bitter and at the same time somewhat salty. He set the bowl down and put several small pieces of wood on the fire. Scents of fragrant smoke and herbs were completely permeating the lodge now. Locke sat back and waited for something to happen. He didn't feel any different yet. With more interest than usual he watched the flames dance around the burning wood. The lodge felt somewhat bigger too. Looking around he confirmed that feeling. The walls were definitely farther apart. For some reason that didn't seem strange to him. The roof seemed higher too. A tendril of smoke curled up, reaching for the tiny opening at the top. Locke followed it with his eyes, mesmerized. There was a sound of chanting just in the range of his hearing. A wolf howled. Locke looked toward the doorway, now much farther then when he had entered. A gray and white wolf sat looking back at him. He gasped. The wolf turned and slipped out the entrance opening. Locke stood unsteadily and took a step toward it. The light seemed brighter around him. Looking for the wolf he saw that he was standing outside. The wolf turned its head and looked at him as if to say “follow me.”, then padded off into the woods. Locke stumbled after it, not concerned about his bare feet or the fact that he didn't know where he was or how he'd gotten there. The wolf led him to a clearing where there was a circle of stones. A fire pit sat at its center. A low,flat stone held a knife, a diamond ring, and a stack of money. The cloth these things rested upon had red stains that could have been blood. “What's going on?” Locke asked not caring that he wouldn't get an answer. “Where am I? What is all this?” A figure stepped out of the shadows. It was Helen. “You have to learn to let go, John.” she said. “Helen? What the...” Locke stared in shock as another figure appeared. “You need to toughen up if you want to find your path.” Anthony Cooper told him. “What the hell is going on here?” Locke said. His emotions were alternating shock and anger. “You wanted guidance from the Earth, from the Spirit.” Helen said. “Your anger is holding you down. Release it.” Locke was angry now. “How dare you tell me what to do. You walked out on me. You hurt me. I can't just forget that happened.” Helen looked at him. “You have to move on, John. Helen made her choice. You can't stay bitter forever.” Anthony stepped forward. “You took the first step by giving me your forgiveness at my “funeral”. You need to take an even bigger step and move on. You are meant for much more than you know.” Locke looked at him. “I never wanted your money. I just wanted your love. I wanted a family. A real family.” Anthony looked at him. “Anthony could never give you that. Don't blame yourself though, that's all his failing. It's nothing about you.” he paused. “You have a family here at Big sky farm. Embrace them. Embrace your destiny. You are a hunter and a protector. You have a purpose.” The wolf howled again. “Unburden yourself” Helen said. “How?” Locke asked. “Those items before you are symbols of what's holding you back. Destroy them to free yourself.” Locke tentatively picked up the ring. He looked at it then threw it in the fire. Helen disappeared. He turned to Anthony. “Why the two of you as my guides?” Anthony shrugged. “Who's to say how the unconscious mind works.” Locke picked up the money and tossed it in the flames. He glanced back as Anthony disappeared. He picked up the knife and put it on his belt.“How will I find my way?” he asked the empty forest. “Raise your eyes and look to the north.” a voice said. He did and saw a beautiful white light and felt a sense of peace and contentment. The glow became so bright he had to shield his eyes. When he opened them again he was sitting in the sweat lodge. The smoke was thick and he began to cough. It seemed very dark and close inside. Getting to his feet Locke felt for the entrance and stumbled out. He took in big lung fulls of the clear air and slumped to his knees as a wave of dizziness came over him.
His eyes were watering and it felt like his throat was coated in flannel. Locke doubled over coughing and retching. "John just take some deep breaths." Mike was by his side, concerned. Locke slowly sat up. His throat still felt scratchy from the smoke he had inhaled but he was feeling more clear headed. He looked down at his feet. How could they have gotten so dirty just sitting in the sweat lodge? And how did he get the small scratches on his upper body? Scratches that looked like they had come from making his way through the brambles and hanging branches in the woods. Mike would have said something if he had come out of the lodge earlier. "Did you see anything?" Mike asked. "Not everyone has a vision their first time in the lodge." Locke thought about what to say. "I saw a circle of stones in the forest and a wolf." He conveniently left out the part about his father and Helen. Mike looked interested in what he was saying. "Wolves often appear as avatars for our spirit guides. What did your guide tell you?" Locke hesitated. "It said that I'm a hunter and that I need to put my past behind me." Mike looked at him. "That's good advice John." he smiled. "A lot of the people we have living here came to find something. What did you come to find?" Locke looked at him. "Myself ." he replied. "Family. Somewhere I belong." Mike clapped him on the shoulder. You've come to the right place." Locke hoped he was right. He felt at home there.
Lying on the bed in his cell Locke wondered if he'd ever feel at home again.
Chapter 9
Ben was sitting in a room a ways away from where the prisoners were housed when Kelvin arrived. He was glad to see the big man as he had a number of questions for him. "What happened to your former hatch mate Desmond?" he began without preamble. Kelvin looked at him. "As far a I know he's still on the island." That wasn't quite the response Ben wanted. "You haven't seen him recently have you?" Kelvin was puzzled and slightly worried by this line of questioning."Would it matter if I had?" Ben's eyes narrowed. "You trust me don't you?" Kelvin nodded warily. "Yes." Ben folded his hands on the table in front of him. "If you trust me then give me a straight answer. Have you seen Desmond recently?" Kelvin wondered why Ben needed to know that so badly. "I saw him the day before I arrived in the beach camp." He looked at Ben. "Why are you so concerned about Desmond?" Ben's face turned serious. "Our perimeter guards apprehended a man and a woman lurking near here today. Tom talked to the man and found out his name is Desmond and he arrived on this island three years ago." Kelvin felt a chill go through him. "You can't think I had anything to do with him being here." Ben looked at him calmly. "I'm Not sure what to think. Did you tell him anything?" Kelvin looked almost offended by this. "Of course not. I never told him where I was going or why. I told him to go back to the beach camp. It's just like him not to listen." Ben looked skeptical. "He was with a woman?" Kelvin asked. "Yes." Ben said. "Juliet talked to her. Her name is Danielle Rousseau and she and Desmond were looking for her daughter." Ben kept his face carefully neutral as he said this. Inside, it bothered him more than he cared to admit. Sixteen years ago part of their group had taken a newborn infant from a young French woman that had crashed on the island. Ben had raised that child as his own daughter. He was sure Danielle was the girl's biological mother. (a blood test would be given to make sure, but he knew what the results would be.) The thought of losing Alex caused him almost as much concern as his tumor did. “I think it's actually a good thing those two were caught.” Kelvin was saying. “I made a mistake letting Desmond go in the first place. This way he can't talk to anyone else.” Ben looked at him. “How do you know he hasn't talked to someone already? You don't know what he did after you left him.” Kelvin looked back at Ben. “That's true. I don't know what he did. It doesn't matter though. He didn't know anything of importance to tell. I made sure of that.” Ben folded his hands. “I surely hope you're right about that.” Kelvin's hands folded into loose fists on his lap. “I know how to do my job.” he paused. “All possible leaks are stopped so there's nothing to be concerned about.” He looked at Ben, managing to hide his irritation. “Is there anything else?” Ben shook his head. “That's all for now.” Kelvin left and went to his quarters. It was getting late and he was glad of the chance to rest. Ben sat alone in the small room thinking about what would need to be done next. Kelvin was probably right about there being nothing to worry about. At least from Desmond. Rousseau was a different story. Ben had no intention of giving up his daughter.
Chapter 10
Early the next morning Desmond awoke to the sound of someone at the door of his cell. Blinking in the darkness he sat up on the narrow cot and stretched his stiff muscles. Two men stood at the door. He didn't recognize either of them. “Time to go to more permanent quarters.” one of them said. “Don't I get any breakfast first?” Desmond asked sleepily. “When we get where we're going someone will bring you something to eat.” Desmond stood and allowed the men to lead him out of the room. He didn't like complying so easily but felt there weren't many options. A bag was placed over his head. “Is that really necessary?” he asked. “Yes it is.” the man said. A short time later they arrived at another building. Desmond was put in a room similar to the one Locke was in. The bag was removed and he saw a pot of coffee and a plate of fruit and rolls on the table in front of him. “Have your breakfast.” one of the men said. “You have a busy day ahead of you.” Desmond wondered what he meant by that. He indicated his bound hands. “Would you mind untying me? It's bloody hard to eat like this.” The man in charge hesitated then grudgingly did so. Desmond noticed the man's companion held his gun leveled at his chest the whole time, obviously prepared to shoot if Desmond tried anything. The men left Desmond alone in the room, locking the door behind them. Desmond went over to the table and poured himself a cup of coffee. He took a piece of fruit and a roll and sat down to eat. He was about to take a bite of the roll when he stopped. What if something had been put in it? Desmond sniffed the cup of coffee. It smelled fresh brewed and very good. Part of his said he shouldn't touch it. A larger part said if they really wanted to kill him they would have done so already. He was very hungry and hesitated only a moment before digging in. Desmond picked up a knife and began slicing into one of the mangoes. Juice dribbled out as he punctured the firm flesh. He licked the tasty drops off his fingers then cut the fruit into thin slices. Desmond wiped his hands, then cut a roll and spread some of the strawberry jam that had been provided on it. There was also a small plate of cheese and smoked salmon on the table. Desmond took some of each and began his breakfast. He wondered if Dharma provided the food for the others as it did for the hatches. They certainly had a good selection. He nibbled on mango slices savoring their sweetness. He hoped Danielle was being treated as well as he was.
Desmond was finishing his second cup of coffee when someone came to the door. "They're waiting for you in medical ." the man said. "Whatever for?" Desmond asked. The man shrugged. "I really don't know. I'm just doing what I was told and bringing you there." His hands were cuffed and he was led out of the room. They walked down a steel and concrete tunnel to a large metal door. One of the men keyed in a code and it opened. They stepped into a sterile looking passage of steel and white walls. Desmond felt a little nervous wondering what was going to happen to him. He was taken into a small room that contained an examining table and a desk and chair. A folded set of what looked like scrubs or pajamas sat on the table. “Put those on.” he was ordered. “Someone will be with you shortly.” The men left and he was locked in. Desmond walked over and picked up the shirt. It was white cotton and reminded him of the clothes issued to prisoners in the psych ward at the garrison where he had been incarcerated. He thought about refusing to change but realized it probably wouldn't do much good. They'd likely change him by force. He unbuttoned his royal blue shirt and slipped it off. Picking up the scrub shirt he saw it had a Dharma logo on the left chest. The symbol in the center was one he hadn't seen before. He wondered if his captors were part of the initiative or just using their equipment. Desmond pulled his trousers off and put on the pants that had been provided. He folded his discarded clothes and sat down on the examining table. What did they want with him? Desmond calmed his nerves telling himself that it was probably just a standard intake examination that was done on all new prisoners. That had been the procedure when he arrived at Southwick Garrison.
Chapter 11
Desmond closed his eyes and remembered. The infirmary at Southwick looked like any other military base medical facility he had ever seen, except for the security gates and bars on the windows. The doctor in charge was an affable Scot named Peter Beckett. Desmond sat on the exam table and waited for the doctor to finish with the patient he was currently treating. His right wrist was handcuffed to the rail of the table. He looked at it feeling like an animal in a cage. Desmond wondered why it was even necessary. He wasn't a violent criminal and hadn't put up any struggle since he had arrived that morning. It was probably a standard precaution, as were the armed guards standing stoically near the doors. Dr. Beckett came over to him. He was a cheerful man just a little older than Desmond. He had a folder in his hands. Desmond could see the name Hume, Desmond D. on it's tab. “Lance Corporal Hume.” Dr. Beckett said. “Your records appear to be in order. I'll just be giving you the standard physical today.” Desmond nodded. Beckett took the stethoscope from around his neck. “Let's get started, yeah.”
A while later Beckett finished his examination and Desmond was allowed to dress again. He sat on the table and waited while the doctor went to get the tetanus booster he was going to give him. There were x-rays on a light box at one side of the room. Desmond looked at them, curious. He couldn't see them perfectly from where he sat but he could tell what they indicated. “How did he take the news?” Desmond asked Beckett when he returned. “How did who? And what news?” the doctor replied as he gave Desmond his shot. “The bloke whose x-rays those are.” Desmond answered. “He has a tumor on his spine.” Beckett looked surprised at this. “You could understand those x-rays?” Desmond nodded. “Yes I can. I've had several years of medical school.” Beckett considered this as he disposed of the used syringe. “He'll be okay though.” Desmond said. Beckett turned to look at him, disbelieving. “How do you know that? Spinal surgery is very risky.” Desmond didn't really know how he knew, just that he did. “It's just a gut feeling I have.” he said by way of explanation. “ I hope your gut is right.” Beckett said. He called the guards over to take Desmond to his cell.
Desmond looked up when he heard the door open. A blonde woman in a Dharma lab coat entered the room. "Good morning Desmond. My name is Juliet and I'm here to run a few tests." Desmond looked at her. "You're a doctor, yeah?" Juliet nodded. "Yes I am." She looked down at a file she was holding. "We don't have a whole lot of information on you yet, but what's here is fascinating." She read from the file. "Name: Desmond David Hume. Age: 35. Nationality: Scottish. Weight: 170. Height: 5'11. Highest military rank achieved: lance corporal." Desmond listened to this capsule rundown of his C.V and wondered how they could have gotten that information and what else they knew. Did Kelvin tell them some of it? "Do you have any allergies?" Juliet asked. "Isn't that in your bloody file?" Desmond replied. Juliet shook her head. "Not that I know of." Desmond answered her question. "Have you had any surgeries or serious illnesses?" Juliet asked. Desmond shook his head. Juliet made some notes in the file then set it down on the desk. "Where did you get that information?" Desmond asked. "We have our ways." Juliet replied. "Lie down on the table. I'd like to begin the examination." she said. Desmond complied hesitantly. Even though he knew it was ridiculous he felt slightly uncomfortable being examined by a female doctor. Especially here in this place. The exam went without incident until near the end Juliet left the room and returned with a small covered cup. "I'm going to need a sperm sample." she told him. "W..What?" Desmond said, almost choking on the word. "I need a sample of your sperm. That's a simple enough request." Juliet answered. "Why in the bloody hell do you need that?" Desmond demanded to know. "It's just a standard part of the exam." Juliet said supplicatingly. It wasn't a part of any physical Desmond had ever had and he didn't believe her. "You can refuse to give me the sample, of course." Juliet said. "But if you do we'll have no choice but to take one from you. I'm sure you don't want that." Desmond glared at her, thinking about this. "Give me the bloody cup." he said at last."I think you made a wise choice." Juliet gave him the cup and left the room to give him privacy. When she came back a while later he thrust the cup at her. "Here's your sodding sample."Juliet took it and wrote something on the label. "Thank you Desmond." He looked at her. "Are we done here?" She smiled. "Almost. There are just a few more tests." Desmond didn't like the sound of this. "What am I? A sodding lab rat?" he thought bitterly. He wondered what else the day would bring.
"Hey babyface." Desmond turned at the sound of the taunt. Mickey Rodgers, more commonly known as M-Rod leaned cockily against the bars of his cell. His tongue flicked out of his mouth in a slightly serpentine fashion and he pulled the lining of his left pocket out. (in the yard his "boy" held onto his pocket to signify that he was taken) Desmond ignored him and continued on his way. When he arrived at Southwick he had been assigned to work in the laundry. His duties included delivering the clean laundry to the cells and picking up the dirty clothes and linen.It was the part of the job he liked least. Desmond finished in B block and went on to his next stop, the psych ward. At the guard station he was frisked and his cart was checked. Finding nothing amiss the guards let him go on his way. "Enjoy the wack shack." one of them, a big Irishman named O'Malley said sarcastically as Desmond left. He walked through the tunnel that led to the building that housed the psych ward. It was dark and empty with narrow cinder block walls and concrete floors. The only exits were the doors at either end. (that was why prisoners were allowed in it alone. There was no way to escape and hidden cameras at intervals along the way caught any funny business.) Reaching the other door Desmond opened it and stepped into an entry hall similar to the one he had just left. Two guards came out from their booth and went through his cart. They patted Desmond down then let him enter the ward. That type of inspection was standard procedure to be sure nothing was being smuggled in or out. Desmond didn't mind it since he had nothing to hide. (not everyone felt that way. One of his mates from B block Kevin Mulvaney, better known as "the engineer" had his "business" almost shut down for a while when this new procedure was instituted.) This area of the garrison looked more like a hospital than a prison. There were rooms instead of cells and a large community area for dining and activities. Most of the inmates were currently at group or in the recreation room. Desmond walked down the antiseptic halls delivering clean clothes and picking up soiled ones. He was just coming back from dropping off the kitchen linen when he heard the sound of a ruckus in the rec room. A man in prison pajamas stumbled into the hallway. He held what looked like a knife or a piece of something sharp in one hand. The other hand was pressed over a heavily bleeding wound at his throat. He looked at Desmond, murmured something unintelligible, and slumped to his knees. Desmond watched this in shock, then went into action. He grabbed some towels from his cart and went to the man. "What happened to you, brutha?" he asked. The injured man said something that sounded like nonsense. Desmond folded one of the towels into a thick pad and pressed it against the wound. "Just hang on, mate. We've got to get the bleeding stopped." The towel was already starting to soak through. Several guards appeared. "What are you doing?" one of them asked. "Get Dr. Beckett." Desmond said. One of the guards hurried off to do this. Several other guards and staff members had come into the hallway. None of them seemed to know exactly what to do. "What's going on here?" the guard in charge demanded. "Get him out of here." he told several of the others. "I'm trying to keep this bloke from bleeding to death here. I could use a little help." The guards looked at each other not sure if they should follow orders or not. Finally one of them went and helped Desmond apply pressure to the wound. Beckett and a team arrived several moments later. They began to work on the man and Desmond stepped out of the way. “What the bloody hell happened here?” Beckett asked the guards. “Timmy here got into a row with “haywire” O'Halloran in the TV room. We haven't found out what about yet.” Beckett looked at the sharp piece of metal on the floor near where Timmy lay. “How did haywire get a bloody shank?” The nearest guards shrugged. “We're trying to find that out. When we do there'll be hell to pay for whoever supplied him.” The medical team lifted Timmy onto a stretcher and took him off to the infirmary. From the severity of the wound Desmond wouldn't be surprised if he had to be airlifted to a hospital. “Come on Hume, time to get going.” one of the guards said to Desmond. He returned to his cart and followed the man back to the guard station. He was inspected and sent back to his block. When he arrived at the guard station in B-block he could hear several guards talking. “I heard one of the J-Cat's in the wack shack got shanked. Got messed up pretty good too.” Desmond paused in the hallway listening. “That's not surprising if haywire was involved.” Desmond's eyes widened at this voice. What was Tyler doing there? Captain Justin Tyler was one of the head corrections officers and probably the biggest wanker in the garrison. He was nicknamed “monster” by the inmates because of his size (6'4) and demeanor. “I heard Hume got in the act, playing Florence bloody Nightengale.” Tyler said. The guards laughed. Desmond hesitantly went around the corner. “Bit of excitement in the crazy house, yeah?” one of the guards said. “You might say that, boss.” Tyler sneered at him. “Don't think I don't know your part in all that.” Desmond looked at him innocently. “I was just trying to keep him from bleeding to death, boss.” He kept his face neutral as he was frisked and his cart checked. He was very glad when he was allowed to go on his way. “I'll be watching you Hume.” Tyler said as he left.
Chapter 12
Heard you had a little excitement today." Desmond's cell mate Liam said as he changed his shirt. "You could say that." Desmond lay down on his bunk. "Better you than me mate. They couldn't pay me enough to go the the wack shack every day." Liam said. He lay on his own bunk looking up at Desmond's. "I heard that haywire was a real nutter even before he got here. Knifed a couple of his mates in the barracks because he said they were laughing at him. He also says he's in communication with aliens." Liam laughed. Desmond shrugged . "I don't see what's funny about mental illness. It sounds like he needs some serious help." Liam laughed again. "Still the idealist, fish. Haywire may need help but he ain't going to get it here. Most the military will do for him is keep him medicated." He paused. "Of course, since he shanked somebody they may try more aggressive treatments like electroshock therapy." Desmond shivered just thinking about it.
In the psych ward Tyler and several of the guards were talking. "Why did you let Hume get involved? You know it's against regs to allow an unrestrained prisoner to remain in an area where there is a situation. I ought to report you to warden Black for this." The guard that had been in charge of the ward, William McDonald looked at Tyler. "He seemed to know what he was doing. My staff was just standing around like a bunch of wankers with their dicks in their hands. You want I should have had Hume restrained and let that prisoner bleed to death on the floor?" Tyler stared at him seriously. "It would have been one less J-Cat to worry about." McDonald looked surprised. "True, but there are human rights laws to think about. We can't deny a prisoner medical care, you know that. They still have some rights." Tyler glared. "You know how I feel about that, Bill. You forfeit all your rights when you break the law." McDonald agreed somewhat but didn't want to admit it. "I won't report this incident but don't let it happen again." Tyler turned and headed towards B block.
A while later he cornered M-Rod and several of his mates in the kitchen. "I got a proposition for you Mickey." M-Rod stopped chopping vegetables and looked at him. "What you got in mind, boss?" Tyler looked at him. "How'd you like to teach Hume a lesson?" M-Rod smiled. "What do you want me to do to him?" He had a few good ideas already. "Just rough him up good. Don't break any bones or do any permanent damage. We don't want doc Beckett getting suspicious." M-Rod nodded. "No problem, boss. Me and my boys will take care of it." Tyler smiled too. "Good. I'll see what I can do to make it worth your while." He left the kitchen and M-Rod returned to work, visions of beat downs in his head.
“Hey, baby face.” M-Rod approached Desmond in the washroom. “You're so pretty it's a shame I haven't gotten to know you better.” Desmond ignored him and continued rubbing his hair with a towel. “Hey, fish. I'm talking to you.” Desmond turned, feeling very vulnerable in his t-shirt and boxers. “Just ignore him and hopefully he'll go away.” Liam whispered to him. “I wasn't talking to you Fergie.” M-Rod said. He was flanked by a couple of his followers Ian MacAvoy and “Big” Mike Flanagan. “I see he's got the brain trust with him. Let's just get out of here.” Liam said. He turned to leave and was stopped by a blow to the side of the head. “I got a message for you baby face.” M-Rod told Desmond. The blow came from out of nowhere, knocking Desmond backward a bit. “What the bloody hell was that about?” Desmond swung back at M-Rod. He got in several good blows before the “brain trust” as Liam had called them joined in. Liam and Engineer tried to help Desmond. Punches rained down left and right. Everybody else in the room seemed to have taken the opportunity to leave, not wanting to be a part of the fracas. Desmond was only semi-aware of what was happening, only knowing that he had to defend himself. A shrill whistle stopped the combatants in their tracks. “Okay you guys break it up.” several guards had arrived in the room. Ian Mac and Engineer were still trading blows. “I said break it up, unless you want to spend some time in the shoe. All of you.” Desmond lay on the tile floor dazed and bleeding. He was vaguely aware of the others being led away. “Can you walk Hume?” Someone asked him. “I...I think so.” Desmond murmured. He struggled to his feet. The room spun dizzily around him and he leaned against the nearest sink for support. “We better get him to the infirmary.” someone said. Desmond let the guards lead him away.
Desmond lay on the table in the infirmary. He winced as Dr. Beckett cleaned his wounds. He felt sore all over and there were large purple bruises on his cheekbone, face and neck. "Looks like you got into a bit of a dust up." Beckett said a he probed the swelling on Desmond's face. "It wasn't my fault. I was just trying to defend myself , brutha." Several of the others involved in the fight were brought into the infirmary. They were pretty banged up but not as badly as Desmond. "Looks like you got the worst of it." Beckett said. "But you'll be right as rain before you know it." Desmond winced again and closed his eyes. "Why did they target me?" he asked. "Can't say for sure, mate. Doesn't take much for M-Rod to get set off. Don't blame yourself." Beckett went over to the drug cabinet and got a small bottle of pills. "I'm going to give you these for the pain." He got a syringe and gave Desmond an injection. "This is an antibiotic to prevent infection." He tossed the used syringe in the hazardous waste receptacle. "I'm keeping you here overnight for observation. You got a pretty good knock to the bonce." A nurse came and took Desmond to a bed in the wardroom. Sinking down into the crisp white sheets he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
"You say Hume started the altercation?" Warden David Black asked Captain Tyler. "Yes. Surprised the bloody heck out of me." Black looked at him skeptically. "Somehow I find that hard to believe. He's been a model prisoner since he got here." Tyler looked at him. "Prison changes people." He told the warden. "Not this soon. Hume's not that stupid that he'd pick a fight with M-Rod and his crew. You'll never convince me of that. Besides, he got the worst of it."
"I'm telling you the truth." Tyler said. Even though he wasn't, he wasn't worried about it. He doubted any of the witnesses would have the guts to rat on M-Rod. They'd end up in the infirmary with Hume if they did
That was part of the reason he had planned things this way. It would be Hume's word against Rodgers'. Currently M-Rod was stewing in his own juices in the shoe. He wouldn't be there for long if Tyler had anything to do with it. “What's going to happen to Hume?” he asked warden Black. The warden was a tall, well built, bald man in his early fifties. He stroked his neat black mustache and looked at his subordinate. “Right now Beckett is keeping him in the infirmary. M-Rod's boys did that good of a number on him.” He paused. “When he is released he'll go back in gen pop. I will take away his yard privileges though.” Tyler didn't look pleased about this. “That's all the punishment he's getting?” Black looked at him. “Yes. Even if he was the instigator, which I doubt it's his first offense. If he was a troublemaker like Rodgers it would be a different story.” Tyler gritted his teeth and said nothing. He had hoped the warden would be more helpful in his plan to punish Desmond. He had been proven very wrong.
When Desmond returned to B-block several days later he was somewhat of a hero to his fellow inmates. No one else had the guts to stand up to M-Rod. “You better watch out, Tyler's on the warpath.” Liam warned him. As if summoned by the comment Tyler appeared at their cell door. “Hume. Front and center. Warden Black wants to see you.” Desmond glanced nervously at Liam then stepped forward. “Am I in trouble, boss?” Tyler shrugged. “Darned if I know. Black just tells me to get people. He doesn't say why.” Desmond followed Tyler out of the block and to the administrative wing. His heart was beating fast as they approached the warden's office. Tyler knocked sharply on the closed door. “Come.” a voice called. Tyler opened the door and they entered. “I brought Hume sir.” The warden nodded. “Leave us alone Justin. I want to talk to him in private.” Tyler nodded and left the office. “Have a seat, son.” the warden said to Desmond. He sat in one of the chairs in front of the big oak desk. “You wanted to see me warden?” Desmond asked. He was afraid he was going to have hell to pay for the altercation in the shower room. His fingers absently traced one of the healing bruises on his cheekbone. “Yes. I wanted to hear your side of the story.” Desmond took a deep breath. “I was just minding my business after my shower. M-Rod, Rodgers started harassing me. I tried to ignore him and leave. He didn't like that, and he and a couple of his mates got in my face and started beating on me. I didn't want to start a row but I had to defend myself.” He paused. “I hate to think what would have happened if Liam and a couple of other blokes hadn't tried to help me.” Desmond's sincerity showed on his face. “That's a little different than what C.O. Tyler told me, but I can't say I'm surprised.” Warden Black said. “What did the C.O Say?” Desmond asked. He had a pretty good idea but he wanted to be sure. “He said you instigated things.” Black said. “He thinks I started it, sir?” Desmond replied not quite believing what he had heard. “Why would I pick a fight with M-Rod of all people. We don't exactly get on but that's no reason to fight with him.” Black nodded. “That's about what I told him, son.” Desmond felt extremely relieved to hear that. “Since I doubt any witnesses are going to be coming forward I have to go with my gut on this one. I believe you, Hume.” He paused. “I'm not sending you to the shoe since this is your first time being involved in anything like this. I am taking away your yard privileges for a few days.” Desmond looked at him. “Thank you sir for believing me. I hope never to have anything like that happen again.” Black looked at Desmond. “I hope you don't either.” He pressed an intercom button on his desk and called the guards to take Desmond back to his cell. He had his suspicions that Tyler was involved in this more than he admitted. Unfortunately he had no way to prove that. Desmond felt like a weight had been lifted from him as he followed the guard back to his cell.
Chapter 13
In the medical facility Desmond sat on the exam table holding a piece of sterile gauze against the crook of his arm. Juliet stood nearby writing on the label of the vial holding the blood sample she had just taken. She had previously taken a throat culture and a sample of spinal fluid. “What is all this for?” Desmond asked. “Just standard procedure.” Juliet said, brushing his query off as unimportant. “You're almost done in here.” She slipped the vial into a holder and put it on a cart with other samples. Desmond sighed and hoped this would be over soon and that things would be explained eventually.
In his cell Locke was at the table having his breakfast. He was on his second cup of coffee when someone came to the door. “Good Morning, John.” He looked up. Ben was standing there with his usual half smile on his face. “I'm not sure how good I'd say it is.” Ben laughed. “You still have your sense of humor. That's good.” Locke set down his coffee cup. “What do you want?” Ben looked at him. “They're waiting for you at the medical section. I came to get you myself.” This got Locke's interest. “Why do they want me at the medical facility?” Ben smiled. “It's nothing to be concerned about. Just some standard medical tests we give to all new arrivals.” Locke didn't like the sound of that. “Why do you need to give medical tests? What exactly is going on here?” He asked Ben.
"That's not important." Ben said. "What is important is your cooperation." Locke looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Before I'll cooperate with anything I need answers." He crossed his arms over his chest and sat back in his chair. "Are you going to make this difficult, John?" Ben asked, still using that flat unemotional affect. "It seems like you're doing a fine job of that by yourself." Ben laughed softly."You're something else, John." Still smiling, he added "I can tell you a little bit, but not much." Locke looked at him. "This facility is involved in various types of research. You will be helping us with that." Locke nodded. "Is that what Jack, Kate, and Sawyer are doing too?" he asked Ben. "In a way. They're all fine. That's all you need to know." Locke wondered why Ben had to be so obtuse and difficult. He decided the best course of action for now would be to comply. He was sure Ben wouldn't hesitate to force him if he didn't. "Are you going to cooperate or do we do this the hard way?" Ben asked him. "I'll cooperate. For now." Locke said. Ben smiled. "I promise it won't be that unpleasant." Locke hoped he was telling the truth. Locke stood and followed Ben out of the cell. They walked down the hallway and into the tunnel that led to the medical building.
Danielle sat quietly in her cell contemplating her fate. Waves of despair washed over her as she thought of her chances of ever seeing Alex again.
She didn't blame Desmond for what had happened. He had tried his best to help her. She was also pretty sure their capture hadn't been planned. Desmond had been as surprised as she was when the men arrived to take them. Danielle looked up at the sound of the door opening. A tall man with somewhat curly dark hair stepped into the room. He was dressed in jeans and a tan t-shirt and had a ruggedly handsome face with a bit of stubble. She recognized him as the friend Desmond had been following. "Does Desmond know you're one of them?" she asked him. "Good morning to you too." Kelvin answered, smiling. He paused. "You know Desmond?" Danielle nodded. "I met him in the jungle several days ago. He said he'd help me find my daughter." She looked at Kelvin. "Do you know where my Alex is? He said you might." Kelvin looked at her. "I'm sorry, I don't." He thought about the name Danielle had said. There was a teenager named Alex among the group. She was Ben's daughter or so he said. Kelvin hadn't been with them when Alex was a baby so he had no way of knowing if she was Ben's Biological child or if he had come to be her caregiver in some other way. The possibilities gave him pause."You're lying." Danielle said angrily. "You people took Alex from me when she was an infant sixteen years ago." Kelvin didn't quite know what to say. He couldn't flat out deny it since it might very well be true. He couldn't imagine losing a child like that and then spending all that time looking for her. "I'm telling you the truth. I don't know what happened to your daughter." Danielle looked at him. "Can you tell me why you took her?" Kelvin shook his head. "I wasn't part of the group at that time. I couldn't begin to tell you what their motivation was." Danielle didn't seem to like that answer."You're one of them, aren't you?" Kelvin sighed and brushed a hand through his hair. "You might say that. I haven't been for very long though. If you want their secrets you're asking the wrong person." He thought for a moment. "If you want I could see what I could find out." Danielle looked at him. "You'd do that for me?" Kelvin nodded."If it's what you want."
"Finding my daughter is all I ever wanted for as long as I can remember."
Kelvin looked at her with compassion. “I can't guarantee anything but I'll see what I can find out.”
“Thank you.” Danielle replied softly. “You have to come with me.” Kelvin told her. “They're waiting in the medical building.” Danielle looked at him. “I don't have the sickness. Why do they want to see me?” Kelvin shrugged. “I don't know. I was just told to bring you.” He paused for a moment. “You still believe in the so called sickness? I have a news flash for you. There isn't any.” She looked at him, not believing. “It's all part of Dharma's plan. I believed it at first until I found out the truth.” Kelvin smiled slightly. “It's amazing how easily some people will believe whatever they're told. I had Desmond believing there was a sickness the whole three years we were in the hatch together.” He felt slightly ashamed about that now, but didn't tell Danielle that. “There is a sickness. My husband and our team became ill with it. I had to kill them because of it.” Danielle told Kelvin. “I'm sorry.” He said softly. He turned toward the door. “Shall we go?” Danielle followed him hesitantly. As they walked Kelvin thought about what she had told him and about her daughter and other children taken from their parents.
Chapter 14
“Take the child now.” Joe Inman barked. The two lieutenants hurried to comply. “My baby. You can't take her from me.” the young Iraqi woman wailed. The sergeant holding her slapped her sharply. “Be quiet.” She began to sob softly. “My baby...my little Fatima...where are you taking her?” She was shoved again by the soldier. “Enough.” Inman said. “Take her into an interrogation room.” It was still early in the day and the heat was already oppressive. The collar of Inman's shirt was damp with sweat and perspiration beaded on his brow and upper lip. He ran a hand over his beard wondering, and not for the first time why he had decided to grow one before going to one of the hottest parts of the world. “What are you going to do with the kid?” Sergeant Austen asked him. “Nothing yet. If the mother doesn't cooperate that might change.” He didn't relish the idea of using a child like this but in war you used whatever means were necessary. That was the same reason even women and children were considered hostile. That “innocent” child could turn out to be a suicide bomber or a terrorist in training. Underestimating the enemy cost lives.
Inman sat at his makeshift desk filling out a report. If the military and the government didn't require everything in writing and in triplicate something might actually get done. “The child won't stop asking for it's mother, sir.” Sergeant Austen told him as he entered the room. “Do something to shut her up.” Inman barked. Paperwork always made him irritable. So did deaths of American soldiers. He had recently signed off on the report of the death of one of their best pilots who had been shot down in enemy territory. He wished they had been able to get the information about his whereabouts before he was killed. If only the young soldier, Sayid they had gotten to translate for them had been able to get Tariq to talk right away. Thinking about if onlys wouldn't do anyone any good. Sighing, he stood and walked down the short hallway to the second interrogation room. Their unit had captured another Iraqi soldier the day before. He was suspected of being in charge of a splinter cell responsible for planting bombs on American convoys. So far no one had gotten him to talk. Steeling himself Kelvin entered the room. The man had been stripped per his instructions and tied in a chair from which the seat had been removed. He sat silently, glaring. A bucket of water and a length of thick rope had been placed near the door. Kelvin picked up the rope and tied knots in it at intervals. He dunked it in the bucket of water. Shaking the excess off of it he turned to his prisoner. “Are you feeling more talkative today, Jamal?” he asked coldly. “Pig. Bastard.” Jamal spat in Arabic. “Call me all the names you want. It won't help you any.” Kelvin replied, also in Arabic. He smacked the rope against his palm. “I have many ways of making you talk.” He smacked the rope again. “Do you know why I wet this rope?” Jamal cursed at him again. Kelvin swung the rope, smiling slightly as it made contact with his prisoners' exposed genitals. Jamal cried out. “The water makes the rope heavier. That in turn increases the pain on impact.” He swung the rope again. “Are you ready to tell me anything?” Jamal gritted his teeth and shook his head. Kelvin swung the rope again harder. “Do you know all the ways there are to get a man to talk? There's drugging the victim, and there's coercion. My favorite is physical punishment. The human body can only take so much pain before it shuts down. I don't want to get to that point. I want to get to the point just before that where the victim will do or say anything to stop the pain.” He swung the rope again. “How far we go is up to you.” Jamal continued refusing to speak. Kelvin whipped him some more. “You have a very high tolerance for pain. I hate that. It makes my job that much harder.” He put the rope down and picked up a knife. “Do you want a lesson in just how much blood a person can lose and still be alive?” Jamal glared at him. “Tell me who gave you your orders and what your next target is.” Kelvin shouted at him. “I don't know” Jamal gasped. “Liar.” Kelvin shouted. He picked up the rope switch and whipped Jamal again. “Tell me the truth.”
When he walked out of the room some time later Jamal was unconscious and he had only gotten one name out of him. Kelvin washed the blood off his hands, hating what he had to do but knowing it was necessary.
Chapter 15
When Kelvin walked out of the washroom one of the sergeants, Matheson was his name, was waiting for him. “We have a problem, Sir.” Kelvin looked at him.”What is it?” The young man looked extremely uncomfortable. “The little girl you had taken from her mother is dead.” Kelvin looked at the sergeant. “How did that happen? I said to keep her quiet not to hurt her.” Matheson took a deep breath. “It was an accident, sir. She kept screaming and Stevens was trying to quiet her. He hit her a little too hard...” Kelvin looked at the sergeant with narrowed eyes. “That's very unfortunate.” Matheson nodded in agreement. “Although it may help us get more information out of the mother.” Kelvin went back to his desk. This day was going from bad to worse. Trust amateurs to turn a simple assignment into a clusterfuck. He intended to tell his superiors at the CIA that they should have sent more agents to help with interrogations and prisoner handling.
Kelvin led Danielle into the medical building. As soon as she was situated and awaiting the doctors he left to talk to Ben. He was not looking forward to this conversation but he had made a promise. He rubbed his eyes trying to wipe the images from his mind. Images of Danielle's sad face when she mentioned her daughter and of others in similar situations. “I didn't have any choice he told himself. It was war. Sacrifices needed to be made.”
“My baby! What have you done to her?” The young Iraqi woman screamed. She was huddled on the floor in a cell. Two of the sergeants stood at the door holding the lifeless body of her child. Kelvin Inman watched from a distance. The woman continued to scream and one of the soldiers slapped her. “Tell us what you know.” He demanded. She just kept on weeping and wailing. He slapped her again. “Enough.” Kelvin said. “She's in no state to answer anything now. Try again a little later. Once she's had a chance to think about what happened and what could happen to her she should be more cooperative.”
When he came into the office area a while later he saw that a package had been left for him by his aide. A note on it said it contained the results of the weapons tests he had ordered. Along with prisoner interrogations his job included supervising the testing and deployment of secret biological weapons. Most recently he had ordered a group of soldiers to subject themselves to a new chemical weapon to see what the effects would be on a fully vaccinated and armored victim. Kelvin opened the package and took out a videotape and a folder of reports. Feeling anxious, he slipped the tape in his VCR and pushed play.
As Kelvin watched he understood how Sayid felt seeing the Sarin gas attack on his village. The canisters of gas were opened and at first there seemed to be no effects. Then lesions began to appear on the soldiers' exposed skin. A while later they began to collapse and have trouble breathing. Kelvin found it hard to watch the disfigured men writhing on the video. In a short time they were all dead. He shut the tape off feeling numb. He felt chilled despite the 90 degree plus heat. The included reports confirmed what he had seen. The toxin even affected those protected by hazmat suits. Kelvin knew his superiors would be pleased. The weapon would be devastating when used on the enemy's forces.
That night Kelvin lay on his cot wide awake. For once he wasn't aware of the oppressive heat and the buzzing of insects against the mosquito netting. Images of dying soldiers flashed in front of his eyes. He had ordered those young men to their deaths. Kelvin shifted on the thin mattress trying to get comfortable. His superiors had been happy with the test results as expected. They considered the deaths "necessary casualties" and shrugged them off. Kelvin wished he could do that. Some time later he drifted off to uneasy sleep.
Kelvin tried to make himself comfortable in the stripped cane chair but couldn't. Ropes chafed at his wrists and ankles and a soft film of sweat blanketed his skin in the oppressively hot room. He was thirsty and his muscles ached from being unable to move. "How does it feel to have the tables turned?" A voice asked him in Arabic. In the low light he could make out the face of the soldier he had tortured most recently. "How does it feel?" more voices chorused. Some of them were soldiers. Others were women and children he had put to death. "I only did what I had to." he said in a voice not much more than a whisper. A figure stepped forward and placed a canister on the floor in front of him. It hissed as it was opened. Kelvin began to gasp and choke as he Breathed the gas in. "Suffer as we have suffered." voices said. Dark red lesions began to appear on Kelvin's body. "I'm sorry." he gasped. "If I had known anything like this would happen I never would have ordered the tests." His vision was becoming dim and blurry. "I was wrong. I'm sorry..."
Kelvin jerked awake on his cot. His heart was pounding and his t-shirt and boxers were soaked with sweat. He threw back the sheet and looked at his bare arms and legs. He sighed with relief seeing no sign of blisters or lesions. "What have I done?" he thought. Kelvin didn't get much more sleep that night.
Walking down the hallway Kelvin swallowed hard and forced the memories of the past to the back of his mind. He was honest enough to admit, to himself at least that he still had a lot of guilt about what he had done and what he had ordered others to do. Some would call it weakness but Kelvin preferred it to being a cold, heartless Colonel Kurtz type killing machine who felt no remorse for anything. He took a deep breath and rapped sharply on Ben's door.
Chapter 16
Desmond sat alone in the small room he'd been put in feeling like a frustrated lab rat. The medical tests appeared to be over finally, and he had been left to stew quietly in this holding room while Juliet and the others did God knows what. He sighed and lay back on the narrow cot that was the room's main furnishing. (there was also a small table and a chair). Desmond closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep. He had nearly succeeded when he felt the disquieting sensation of something crawling up his leg. Fighting to control the cold fear that gripped him, he raised his head and looked towards the end of the cot. A large tropical centipede was slowly making it's way up his body. Sweat began to cover him as he felt the tiny legs gripping his flesh. The centipede was yellow-brown and about five inches long. At each end were sharp pincers. Desmond remembered Kelvin telling him about the various kinds of insects on the island. He had said that this type of centipede injected a deadly toxin when it bit. (He had also told Desmond about fire ants, scorpions, and tree spiders that could grow larger than a man's hand.) It took all of Desmond's self control to remain still as the centipede continued it's upward journey. More sweat poured from him as it reached the juncture of his hip and thigh. He tensed unconciously imagining getting bitten "there". It seemed an eternity but the creature finally made it's way up Desmond's stomach and chest. It stopped near his neck, small feet touching his jugular. He knew he would certainly die if it bit him there. "Come on you bloody bastard. Move." he silently willed it. As if the centipede had heard it began to move again. It walked up his neck into his hair and finally out onto the pillow. When it was far enough away Desmond jumped off the cot. He grabbed the pillow and flung it across the room. The centipede skittered a few feet away. His heart pounding, Desmond stood and looked down at it. Adrenaline coursed through him as he took off a shoe and brought it down hard on the insect.There was a crunching as the carapace split and yellow insides spilled out. Desmond continued smashing it until he was sure it was dead. He sank back on the cot shaking all over. The adrenaline rush was over and he felt totally drained. Curling up on the cot he closed his eyes. He sat up a moment later as a very clear image came into his mind. A tall, well built man of about his age was stripped to the waist and strapped to a table in a medical facility. He had shaggy dark blonde hair and an angry sneer. Another image appeared. Kate, wearing a skimpy sundress sat in what appeared to be an animal cage. There were red, raw bruises on her wrists. What the bloody heck was going on? Desmond had had this "ability" for as long as he could remember. The only time he had been blessedly free of it was the three years he had been in the hatch. (he figured that had something to do with the electromagnetism of the area since it had coome back after he activated the failsafe.) Desmond had chalked the things he knew up to coincidence until one day in a bar in Aberdeen.
It was a Friday evening and as usual Mccafferty's bar was packed. Scotland was playing Manchester United, and as expected everyone's eyes were glued to the telly. Desmond took a seat at the bar and ordered a pint. As he sipped it and watched the game an image came into his mind. "Manchester U 20- 10. Scotland doesn't have a bloody chance." A man at the end of the bar said, snapping Desmond back to the reality around him. "You care to repeat that, mate?" Someone said to the first man. "I said Scotland doesn't have a sodding chance." The first man answered, his voice slightly slurred but his northern accent still very evident. "Actually, Scotland is going to win 30-10." Desmond said. He had seen it in his mind clear as day. "You sound sure of yourself , baby face" The Englishman said somewhat tauntingly. "So what if I bloody am?" Desmond wasn't sure he wanted to get into this but felt his manhood had been brought into question. "You're going to eat those words, baby face." The Englishman took a sip of his drink. "Are you even old enough to be in a pub?" Desmond was 23 and didn't like being called a child. "I'd watch my mouth if I were you, brutha." The barman came over to them. "Cool it mates, or take it outside. I don't want a row in here."
"Sorry brutha. I didn't mean to cause any trouble." Desmond said. "And I was just trying to set this young chap straight." The Englishman said. "He said he's sure Scotland is going to win." Just then a cheer went up as Scotland scored a goal. "I don't need setting straight." Desmond thought. He smiled thinking of what his father would have done if he had heard the Englishman's comments. David William Hume was a good family man, a foreman at a tool and die factory, and a diehard football fan. He and a number of his friends considered Friday night bar fights one of the British national pastimes and would slug anyone who had the gall to root for Manchester U in a Scottish bar. It was the principle of the thing. The bar patrons cheered as Scotland scored again. "How are you so sure who's going to win?" the barman asked Desmond. "That's a dangerous boast to make." Desmond shrugged. "It's just a feeling I had." The barman nodded and wiped the top of the bar with a rag. "It might be smart to keep your feelings to yourself , mate." Desmond was about to reply to this when another image came into his mind. He saw a glass shattering against the mirror behind the bar. Ice and amber liquid coated the bottles lined up below it. Several moments later he saw the barman being knocked back as the drunken Englishman took a swing at him. Desmond thought about what he should do. He wanted to say something but was afraid of sounding like a total nutter. "Hey, futureboy. Can you tell me who's going to win the match tomorrow?" he imagined being taunted. The Englishman was glaring at the TV mounted above the bar, obviously displeased by how the game was going. “Who's going to eat his words now, jug ears?” Desmond could hear his father saying. He thought about saying it himself but knew all it would get him was a punch in the face. (His father still hadn't learned that lesson and often came home from pubs somewhat the worse for wear.) Another cheer went up in the pub. Desmond looked at the TV. The game was in it's final seconds. He watched as Scotland scored the winning goal. A chill went through him when he saw the final score. 30-10. The Englishman was drowning his sorrows in another pint. “I'd watch out for that one if I were you.” Desmond told the barman when he brought him a fresh pint. “Thanks for your concern mate, but I have plenty of experience handling drunks.” Desmond looked at the barman. “What would you say if I told you I know somehow that you're going to get into a dust up with that bloke?”
“I'd say you'd better lay off the lager, mate.” The barman began to wipe glasses. Desmond looked down at his hands cursing himself for saying anything. A few moments later the Englishman slammed his glass down on the bar and stormed out. “Forget I said anything.” Desmond said to the barman. He finished his drink and slunk out of the bar. How could he have been so wrong? He was sure of what he had seen.
The next afternoon Desmond was feeling kind of down when he returned to Mccafferty's with his friend Peter Mcdonald. The loutish Englishman was back seated at the end of the bar, a tumbler of scotch in his hand. Desmond avoided making eye contact with him as he ordered a pint and followed Peter to a table. “Why are you so down, mate?” Peter asked. “Is it a bird?”Desmond forced a smile. “No it isn't.” He sipped his drink. “Why do you think everything has to do with birds?” Peter laughed. “Doesn't it?”He sipped his own drink. “Main reason a bloke gets down in the dumps is a bird doing him wrong.” He glanced at the dart board where two guys had just finished playing. “Fancy a game or two? It will take your mind off things.” He smiled. “Why not.” Desmond replied. “It's about time I won another couple quid off you.” Peter snorted. “In a pig's eye.” They walked over to the dartboard and picked up the darts. “You know I can kick your arse. Don't deny it.” Desmond said. “We'll see about that.” They started playing and Desmond's dark mood began to lift. “Say that again you bloody son of a bitch.” Desmond and Peter turned to see the source of the shout. The Englishman at the bar was standing with his hands balled into fists. A moment later his glass was shattering against the shelves behind the bar. “What's he on about?” Peter asked. The barman was saying something to the Englishman. Desmond watched in shock as he hauled off and slugged the surprised barman. He was escorted out a short time later. Peter turned to Desmond. “You alright, mate? You look like you just saw a ghost.” They walked back to their table and sat down. “I'm fine.” Desmond said. He didn't feel fine though. Everything had happened as he'd seen it. “What would you say if I told you I knew that was going to happen?” He asked Peter. “What do you mean you knew it was going to happen?” Desmond shrugged. “I saw it in my mind. Don't ask me how.” Peter thought about this. “You mean you're a bloody psychic?” Desmond sipped his drink. “I guess you could say that.” Peter clapped him on the back. “Well why didn't you say something sooner? We could make a killing betting on the football matches.” Desmond shook his head. “Afraid it doesn't work that way, brutha. I can't control when it happens or what I see.” Peter looked disappointed. “If that's true then how come the fortune tellers at the renaissance faire can always see something when a client asks a question?” Desmond sipped his drink. “Because most of those fortune tellers are bloody frauds. They're good at reading people and telling them what they want to hear.” Peter laughed softly/ “You'd be good at that Des.” He sipped his lager. “I can see it. The amazing Desmond, psychic and mentalist.” He smiled. “You're a natural with that baby face. The birds just eat this psychic stuff up.” Desmond rolled his eyes. “I don't know why I try to have a bloody serious discussion with you. It's pointless.” Peter looked hurt. “I'm serious, mate. You could make some good money.” Besides women Peter's other big interest was money. He was always coming up with schemes to get one or the other. “The psychic gig's a great racket.” Peter continued. “You tell people what they want to hear, they pay you, and it doesn't matter if it's the truth or a load of bollocks.” Desmond looked irritated. “I'm trying to be serious here, Pete. I saw that altercation in my mind before it happened. That wasn't the first time something like that happened either.” Peter looked at him. “You really are serious, mate?” Desmond nodded. For once Peter didn't have a smart comeback for him.
Lying on the narrow cot Desmond sighed. He hadn't told anyone about his ability since that incident in the pub. So far he hadn't regretted it. His eyes fell on the crushed remains of the centipede on the floor and he shuddered. How had it gotten in here? He remembered Kelvin saying that scorpions and centipedes liked warm dark places like under rocks and in caves. They rarely were found in clean, bright places like buildings. Desmond closed his eyes and soon drifted off still pondering this.
Chapter 17
"You want me to do what?" Kelvin sat up straighter in his chair and looked right at Ben. He had asked about Alex and how she came to be Ben's daughter and instead of an answer been given an order he never expected. "I want you to kill Danielle Rousseau. That should be simple enough to understand." Kelvin nodded. "Then I did hear you correctly." He had and he didn't like it one bit. He had been a skilled assassin for the CIA and Ben was treating him like some hired thug he could get to kill on demand. Kelvin was more than willing to kill when there was just cause or a threat. He didn't see either here. There was also one other thing. "I'm not in that business anymore." He said. Ben opened a thick folder in front of him. "Is that so? That's a shame because you have quite an impressive resume." Kelvin looked at him. "Why is Danielle such a threat to you?" She seems harmless enough to me." He paused. "Unless you did really steal her baby from her." Ben's eyes narrowed. "That is not your concern right now." Kelvin's hands balled into fists on his lap. "Yes it is my concern. If you want me to kill her you damn well better tell me why." Ben looked at him."I have a very good reason you can be assured of that." He looked down at the folder again. "You are of course free to refuse my request." He paused for effect. "And I am also free to share the information contained in this file with those I choose to." He looked at Kelvin. "What do you think happens to convicted war criminals?" Kelvin looked at him. "The military gave me those orders. They wouldn't..."
"I'm not talking about the military." Ben cut him off."I'm talking about the United Nations, the ACLU, Amnesty International. None of those organizations looks very kindly on the torture of prisoners of war." He glanced at the folder. "My, you were busy in Iraq." He began to read."You had countless prisoners whipped, you cut off several of a man's toes when he refused to cooperate, you attached electrodes to the genitals of another, you supervised the testing and deployment of chemical biological weapons...should I go on?" Kelvin felt like he had been punched in the stomach. "No." he said softly. He looked at Ben. "I know what I did was wrong. At the time I thought I was serving my country. I realize now what a hollow lie that was." Ben nodded. "I believe that." He closed the folder. "That would make it even more of a shame if you were prosecuted for it. The choice is up to you."
What kind of choice was that? Kelvin knew Ben wasn't bluffing about what he said he'd do. He also knew he probably deserved to be prosecuted for what he'd done. "I'll do it but it will be my way." He told Ben. "You made the wise choice." As he left the room Kelvin wondered about that.
Kelvin Inman walked down the street in Phuket's "Entertainment district". It was early evening and the heat was still oppressive. The collar of his lightweight shirt was damp with sweat and his curly dark hair lay heavily against his forehead. Kelvin had been in Thailand for several weeks now on this, one of his first undercover assignments. His identity was that of Justin Crowe, an art and antiques specialist in the employ of Talbot-Black import/export. His target was J.S. Lee, the head of one of the largest worldwide smuggling rings. Since he had been in Thailand Kelvin had succeeded in meeting Lee and getting him to agree to do business. They had a meeting set up for the following morning. Kelvin finally approached his destination; a bar/brothel whose name translated to something like "The jade orchid". He stepped inside it's welcome coolness. A young Thai woman wearing a red dress slit to the thigh approached him. "Good evening Mr. Crowe. Are you here for a little fun?" she said in heavily accented English. Kelvin shrugged her off. "Not tonight, Mai. I'm just here to unwind with a drink." He made his way to the bar. Once there he ordered a bourbon on the rocks then went to a large oval table in the corner of the room where a poker game was about to get underway. "Mr. Crowe. So glad you are able to join us." Mr. Lee said in greeting. "My pleasure." Kelvin took a seat at the table. As Lee shuffled and dealt he took a look at the other players. There were several of Lee's "associates" and a couple of Thai men he didn't recognize. Kelvin was most interested in the two Americans at the table. (perhaps non-Asians would be a better description. Kelvin was pretty sure they were Americans though.) One was a bald, slightly heavy middle aged businessman in a tan suit. He was probably in Thailand on business and more than likely had an expense account he was using to the fullest. He also likely partook of the various "entertainments" offered here. The other was a tall, dark haired young man who looked to be in his early twenties. A recent college graduate here on vacation Kelvin guessed. From his designer polo shirt and expensive haircut Kelvin read that he was upper middle class. His father was probably a doctor or a lawyer. Thee fresh looking tattoos on his left arm reinforced the post graduation trip idea. The game began and Kelvin kept his eye on the young man, deciding the businessman was of no concern. As usual Mr. Lee won most of the hands. The "college boy" as Kelvin had come to think of him didn't like this one bit. He'd better watch himself or he'd be in more trouble than he could handle, Kelvin thought. He was familiar with Lee's gambling habits and knew not to bet money he couldn't afford to lose. When everyone took a break Kelvin went to the bar and got another drink. The bartender was Alex Kwan, his CIA contact. He was about to say something about the assignment when the college boy walked up. He ordered a drink then turned to Kelvin. "Can you believe the run of bad luck I'm having?" he asked. "I've never gotten beat like this before." He looked disgusted. "Something fishy has to be going on." Kelvin knew that Lee did in fact cheat at cards and how he did it. That information was however classified so he couldn't say anything. "You're just having a bad night. It's happened to me too." he said. "It still pisses me off." the young man said. "I'd watch myself if I were you. Some of the people at that table take cards very seriously." Kelvin cautioned him. The young man looked at him. " You seem to know a lot about cards. Mr...?"
"Crowe. Justin Crowe." Kelvin answered. "And I don't know that much about cards but I do know how to avoid getting my ass handed to me." He held out his hand. "I'm Jonathan Shephard. Everyone calls me Jack." They shook hands. "What brings you to Thailand?" Kelvin asked Jack. "Vacation. You?"
"I'm here on business." Kelvin replied. "I work for an import/ export company." They went back to the table and the game began again. Jack continued to have bad luck. Eventually he got disgusted and threw his cards down. "I've had enough of this rigged game." He stood. "This isn't over." he said to Lee, then stormed out. Kelvin hoped he hadn't gotten himself in deeper than he could handle. Lee appeared nonplussed by this outburst quietly whispering something to one of his associates then turning back to the game.
Chapter 18
Several hours later Kelvin walked out of the club into the still humid night. The neighboring bars and brothels were still doing a brisk business even at this late hour. A sound from the alleyway made him stop and come to full attention. Kelvin glanced all around him cursing the fact that his Walther PPK pistol was tucked away in his hotel room. (he hadn't thought he'd need it that night and hadn't wanted to take the chance of being caught with it by Lee) Slipping his hand into his pocket he found two large coins which he put between his fingers as makeshift brass knuckles. He felt the reassuring weight of the Mad dog knife in it's holster against his ankle. Taking a deep breath Kelvin stepped into the alleyway. Jack Shephard lay crumpled in a heap on the stone pavement. There didn't seem to be any sign of an assailant. Kelvin slipped the coins back in his pocket and went over to Jack. The young man's lip was split and bleeding and one eye was swollen shut. His face and hands were bruised but he didn't look seriously hurt. He was lucky Kelvin thought, remembering what happened to the last person who accused Mr. Lee of cheating. Jack slowly sat up and looked around. "Are you okay?" Kelvin asked. "I think so." Jack probed his bruised jaw thoughtfully. "Doesn't appear to be broken." Kelvin raised an eyebrow. "You a doctor or something?" Jack nodded. "Almost. I'm in my third year of medical school. I'm studying to be a surgeon like my father." Kelvin nodded. He had been correct in his first assessment of Jack. "What happened here?" Jack slowly got to his feet. "A couple of guys jumped me as I was leaving the club. They just came out of nowhere." He stood a little unsteadily and looked at Kelvin. "You're lucky they didn't do anything worse to you." Kelvin reached out his hand to steady Jack. Where are you staying?”Kelvin asked. Jack told him. “That's where I'm staying too. I'll walk back with you if you want.” Jack nodded and they made their way slowly to the street. They had only gone a short distance when they were approached by a Thai man wearing a black leather coat over dark jeans and a white t-shirt. “You looking for a good time?” He asked Kelvin and Jack in broken English. “Topless massage? Exotic Asian lay?” Kelvin shook his head. “No thanks.”
“How about dirty pictures?” The man didn't seem at all surprised by Jack's bruised and bloody face. He reached inside his coat. “Get back.” Kelvin hissed at Jack in a voice barely more than a whisper. He had a pretty good idea of what was coming next.
The knife sliced through the air like a cold metal finger. Kelvin was ready for it and caught the arm wielding it before it had completed it's arc. A well placed forearm blocked the assailant's other arm. It was textbook defense but it was quite effective. The man struggled in Kelvin's grasp but the CIA agent was bigger and stronger. He twisted the knife arm back and the man howled. “Who sent you?” Kelvin growled in Thai. “Go to hell.” The man replied, also in Thai. “You first.” Kelvin dug his thumb into the nerve endings at the base of the man's palm and his hand opened dropping the knife. He struck out with his other hand. Kelvin blocked the blow and came back with the side of his hand against the man's Adam's apple. He held his fingers stiff and as he made contact felt the man's windpipe crumple like a piece of paper. The man gurgled and collapsed to the ground. He was dead almost instantly. Jack watched all this agape. “Why did you do that?” He knelt by the man. Kelvin stopped him before he could feel for a pulse. “He's already dead. There's nothing you can do for him now, Doc.” Jack stood. “Why did you kill him?” he asked again. “He was sent to kill one or both of us.” Kelvin wrapped a tissue around his hand and reached in the man's pocket and removed his wallet. “He was a paid thug. It's no big loss.” (He wouldn't dignify the man with the term assassin.)Standing, Kelvin faced Jack. Outwardly he was the picture of calm. Inside he was as shocked as Jack. He was 30 years old and had killed several times before but never with his bare hands. “What do you want with his wallet?” Jack asked as he watched Kelvin take the ID from it and put it in his pocket. “I'm sure this guy has a rap sheet a mile long. My people will want to run his ID through the system. Hopefully we can find out who he was working for.” Jack raised an eyebrow. “Your people? You a cop or something?” Kelvin smiled slightly. “Or something.” He paused. “I'm a CIA agent.” Jack looked suitably impressed. “Was that guy wanted for something?”
“Most likely.” Kelvin answered. “The people he was working for definitely are.” He stopped himself before he said something he shouldn't. The mission was classified after all. He grabbed Jack by the arm. “We'd better split before the authorities get here.” They started off down the street. “Aren't you working with the authorities?” Jack asked. “Technically yes. They don't always approve of our methodology though.” They arrived at the hotel a few moments later. As they waited for the elevator Kelvin told Jack. “Try to forget what you saw tonight. It will make things easier for you, believe me.”
A short time later Kelvin stood under the shower in his room. He closed his eyes, enjoying the refreshing feel of the water after being out in the heat. He turned the shower head to pulsate and let the spray relax his tense muscles. He couldn't get what he had done out of his mind. “Stay detached. It's the only thing that will keep you sane.” His handler had told him. Kelvin was trying his best to do that but it was difficult. There was something so personal and jarring about killing someone with your own hands. Much more so than shooting or poisoning someone. He stepped out of the shower and dried himself briskly with a towel then walked into the bedroom. Kelvin slipped on boxers and a t-shirt and lay down on the bed, this time not even noticing that it was too short for him. (It wasn't designed for average height Americans much less 6'4 ones.) Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of movement on the far wall. A small green lizard was making it's way down the wallpaper. Kelvin sat up and peered at it. It was a harmless garden lizard, as common in this part of the world as ants or houseflies were in America. (they were also sold roasted on a stick by street vendors all over the country.) Smiling, he got out of bed and picked up the small creature by it's tail. "I think you'll be happier out here." He gently placed it in a potted plant on the balcony then went back inside.
In the Others' complex Kelvin was pulled from his memories by the squawking of the radio on his belt. Irritatedly he pulled it from it's holder and thumbed the talk button. "Inman. What is it?"
"I have something for you to do before you take care of what we discussed." Ben's voice said. Kelvin was actually glad. Anything to delay the inevitable.
John Locke felt like a caged animal. The medical tests and examinations had finished and he was back in his room. Food had been provided and he nibbled at it absently. What the hell did they want from him? He looked up at the sound of the door opening. Tom stood there waiting patiently. "When you've finished eating there's one more test for you to complete." Locke looked at him. "Haven't you people run enough tests on me?" Tom looked serious. "This isn't a medical test. It's a test of your endurance and will to survive." This got Locke's attention. "What do you mean?" he asked Tom. "Some years ago the Dharma initiative created an obstacle course of sorts in part of this facility. You are going to be our first test subject to go in it." Locke didn't like the sound of that. "And if I refuse?" Tom looked at him "You don't have a lot of choice in the matter, John. It's either the course or be left in a cell to rot, not to mention what will happen to your friends." Locke glared at him "And if I complete the course?"
"You'll be let go." Locke didn't believe it. "Bullshit." Tom looked at him. "I'm telling you the truth."
"Why was I chosen?" Locke asked. "Because of your skills and your strength of spirit. You are one of the most strong willed people we've ever met, John." Tom said looking Locke in the eye. "If I do this do I have your word my friends won't be hurt?" Locke looked impassively back at him. "If you comply you have nothing to worry about." Locke stood and grudgingly followed Tom out of the room.
Chapter 19
They were joined by two other guards on the way. Locke wondered what was going to happen to him and why they hadn't let him change out of the hospital pajamas he was wearing. "What do you think you're doing?" Kelvin Inman stepped into the hallway they were walking down and confronted Tom. "I'm taking Locke to the maze." Tom replied icily. "Ben just told me to escort Mr. Locke there." Kelvin glared at Tom. "I don't need your help." Tom looked offended that the big man was even there. "I'm just following orders. Don't bite my head off." Kelvin snarled. Locke could tell they were involved in some kind of pissing contest and wanted no part of it. The other guards apparently felt the same way, as they stepped back and said nothing. "Go ahead and take him." Tom said finally. He glared at Kelvin again and stormed off. Locke himself wasn't too thrilled to see the man he felt had gotten him into this again. "Take these." Kelvin handed him a folded jumpsuit and a pair of hiking boots. They continued down the seemingly endless corridor until they came to a grey steel door marked with the number 108. Kelvin punched in a code and the door hissed open. Inside was a bare concrete room containing only a chair. Kelvin told the guards to wait a short distance away then turned to Locke. He pulled a large knife from his belt. The next thing Locke knew he was pinned against the wall with the blade against his throat. "Don't even think about escaping." Kelvin said. "There's only one way out now and it's up to you to find it." Locke stared at the big man wide eyed. He was about to speak when Kelvin stepped back. He pulled Locke a few paces from the door and held the knife out to him handle first. "This is a blind spot for the cameras." he explained. Locke cautiously took the knife. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked. "I'm trying to help you." Kelvin said. "I wish I could do more but my hands are tied."
"Why are you doing this?" Locke asked. "I don't agree with everything that goes on here and I want you to have a chance." He motioned for Locke to go back to the room. "It's time now John. We both have to do things we'd rather not." Kelvin didn't elaborate on this. Locke wondered what he meant. He slowly walked into the claustrophobic little room. "Good luck." Kelvin closed the door and it locked with a beep. Through the small barred window Locke could see him walking away. He wondered if he should have tried to fight his way free when he had the chance, then remembering the tasers that Kelvin and the guards wore on their belts decided it probably wouldn't have done any good. He glanced at the door in front of him. It was smooth metal completely flush with the wall. There was no handle or knob on this side of it. Locke knew it wouldn't do any good to pound on it or ram his shoulder into it. Sighing he set the bundle of clothes down on the chair and pulled off his pajama top.
Locke unwrapped the bundle of garments. Folded with the jumpsuit was a white t-shirt and several other items. A small flashlight, a cigarette lighter, and several Dharma nutri-bars. Locke wondered if the inclusion of those things was Kelvin's doing. He put on the t-shirt and picked up the jumpsuit. It was identical to the one Desmond had worn when they had first met him except for the symbol in the center of the Dharma logo on the chest. Locke removed his pants and slipped into the jumpsuit. He then put on the socks and shoes that had been provided. Fully dressed now, he put the other items in his pockets and began to look around him.
There wasn't much to see, just smooth featureless grey walls. The only item of interest was a good sized vent just below the ceiling covered with a wire mesh grate. That must be the way into the maze Locke realized. He stood on the chair and cautiously reached out with the knife not sure what would happen when he made contact. Bracing himself, he touched the grate. Nothing happened. There were no sparks or shocks, just the hollow sound of metal on metal. Tucking the knife under the belt of his jumpsuit Locke reached up and crooked his fingers around the openings in the grate. He pulled firmly and it came off in his hands. Locke set the mesh screen on the floor and peered into the opening above him. It was an oval steel tunnel plenty big enough too crawl through. He looked around him again. Locke wasn't thrilled about going into the tunnel but he didn't have a lot of options at that moment. (dying in here like a caged animal was not how he wanted to end up.) Locke took a deep breath and hoisted himself up into the tunnel. "Here goes nothing." he thought as he began to crawl. Stopping, he took out the flashlight and shone it around and in front of him. There was nothing to see but metal and empty space. Locke continued on until the tunnel came to a small square juncture. The wall in front of hiim was a solid dead end. The only way to go from there was up a tall metal tube. There were raised ridges at intervals that could be used as footholds. Apart from that Locke knew it would be a treacherous climb. He didn't have a choice though. Steeling himself he crawled to the opening and slowly began to make his way up the shaft.
Elsewhere in the complex Ben sat in one of the surveillance rooms watching Locke's progress on the monitor in front of him. He removed his glasses and absently rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Is everything set for phase 2?" he asked Juliet who was seated next to him. "Yes. Hume will be an excellent subject." Ben nodded. "He and Ford are receiving the drugs to enhance their "virility"? " Juliet nodded. "Yes. In their food as you requested."
"Good." Ben looked down at the folder in front of him. "Is this who you chose?" Juliet nodded. Ben began to read the dossier in front of him.
Name: Athena Moreau
Age:28
Height: 5'6
Weight: 125
Hair: Black
Eyes: Blue
Education: M.S in reproductive studies, B.S in genetics
Hobbies: Aikido, running, reading, yoga, games of skill
I.Q: 145
The picture clipped to the page showed a very attractive young woman with ivory skin and black hair cut in a glossy bob. She was one of Juliet's fellow researchers and like Ben had lived on the island her whole life. Ben closed the folder and picked up one next to it. The tab read Hume, Desmond D. Inside was a dossier similar to Athena's.
Name: Desmond Hume
Age:34
Height: 5'11
Weight: 170
Nationality: Scottish
It told about his dishonorable discharge from the military and the fact that he was just a few credits short of a medical degree. The included picture showed Desmond with short hair wearing military BDUs. Ben glanced down at the other folders on the desk. The names on the tabs were Ford, James and Austen, Kate. "There shouldn't be any problem with Mr. Ford or Kate but what if Hume refuses?" Juliet looked at him. "Then we use force. I really hope it won't come to that." Ben nodded. "Athena is amenable to this?"
"Yes. She has been on fertility drugs for several weeks now."
"Kate as well?" Juliet nodded. "Unbeknownst to her. With their next cycle they both should be superovulating." Ben raised a questioning eyebrow. "Ordinarily a woman's ovaries release one egg each month. The drugs stimulate the reproductive system and should facilitate the release of four or five eggs each time." Ben nodded. It sounded like things were well in hand. He turned back to the monitor to check on Locke's progress.
Chapter 20
Sweat ran down Locke's back as he slowly made his way up the shaft. His toes gripped the seams and his body hugged the cool metal. Inch by inch he moved, not looking up or down. His muscles ached from the tension of holding his body against the tube and his shoulders felt bruised from the sides of the shaft. He refused to give up though. Trying not to think of how far he had to go Locke continued his laborious ascent. Finally, what seemed like hours later he felt cool air against his skin and his hands made contact with the top of the shaft. Locke sighed with relief and with a final burst of strength pulled himself into the next passageway. He lay on the floor and closed his eyes. Some time later he slowly sat up and took a nutri-bar out of one of his pockets. He ate it then began to make his way again. This passage was shorter than the others and seemed to get larger as he moved down it. It ended in a wide platform overlooking a ravine of jagged rocks. Mounted above head level was a horizontal ladder of steel bars that reminded Locke of monkey bars on a children's playground. The only way across to the next passage was to go hand over hand on these bars. Locke took his knife and cut strips from his t-shirt. These he wrapped around his hands hoping they would help him grip the smooth metal. He took a deep breath and reached for the first bar. As he swung out over the drop he forbid himself to look down. Locke knew how high up he was and what would happen if he lost hold of the bars and fell to the rocks below. Slowly, carefully he made his way hand over hand across the open expanse. His breath caught as his fingers slipped a bit, then released as he firmly gripped the next rung. Eventually Locke's feet made contact with the platform on the other side. His relief was palpable. The next tunnel began with a slight decline leading to a flat passageway. As Locke crawled down it he realized it was growing increasingly warm. Beads of sweat began to form on his skin and his jumpsuit felt like a sausage casing. Below him the metal floor was becoming hot to the touch. So this was the next challenge. Locke stopped and removed his t-shirt. After he had buttoned himself back in his jumpsuit he cut the shirt into strips which he wrapped around his knees and hands. He hoped they would be enough to protect him.
Athena Moreau walked down the cold steel gray hallway. She stopped at a door marked with the number 42 and knocked. "Come in." A voice said. Inside the room Ben and Tom were waiting for her. She approached the empty chair across from them. Ben stopped her. "Wait. Turn around." He gestured with his hands. "I want to get a good look at you." Hesitantly she did so. Ben nodded his approval. She couldn't help but notice how his eyes lingered on her breasts and legs. Tom didn't appear very interested at all. Athena wasn't surprised. Word around the complex was that Tom "played for the other team" so to speak. (There also was talk that he had a thing for Ben.) Athena sat and waited to see what would happen next. "Has Juliet briefed you on the nature of your assignment?" Ben asked. "Yes. Sshhe has." Athena replied. "I just have a few things to go over with you." Ben looked at the notes in front of him."How many sexual partners have you had?"Athena looked taken aback. "What?" she asked increduously. "It's a perfectly valid question. I assume you have been sexually active." Athena's eyes narrowed. "I'm not a virgin, if that's what you're asking. I don't see what the number of men I've been with has to do with anything though."
"It's just a standard question." Ben looked at his notes again. "Do you enjoy sexual intercourse?" Athena's eyes widened. "What kind of question is that?" Tom looked surprised too. "It has relevance for the assignment." Athena folded her hands in her lap. "Yes I do." Ben nodded and made some notes on his pad. "When was the last time you had sex? I assure you this is totally relevant." Athena looked at him. "About a week ago." She was blushing slightly. "You used protection I hope." She nodded. "Of course." Ben made some more notes. "Would you have any trouble faking an orgasm if necessary?" Tom raised an eyebrow. "Is this line of questioning really necessary?" he asked Ben. "Yes it is." Athena thought for a moment. "I haven't had much of a need to do it but I'm sure I can." Ben made more notes. "You understand how important this assignment is?" Athena nodded. "You will be helping to bring forth the next generation and helping further our work."
"I know what's at stake." Ben nodded again. "Good. Don't ever forget that." He handed Athena a folder. Inside was a copy of Desmond's file. "Is this the man you've chosen?" she asked. "Yes." Ben said. She opened the file and looked at the included photograph. "Do you find him attractive?" Ben asked. Athena looked up at him. "Yes. Very." Ben smiled satisfied. "That will make it easier for you."
"Why not just create the embryos through artificial insemination?" Athena asked. "Some are being created in the laboratory. We want others to come about by natural means." Ben looked at her. "Study that file carefully. You need to know all about Mr. Hume before you meet him." He paused. "And it goes without saying, no sexual relations until you're with him." Athena nodded. Ben looked at his pad. "I think that's all for now. You will be contacted when it's time to move forward with the plan." Athena nodded and stoo. "Understood." She left the room, noticing Ben's eyes on her again.
Sweat ran down Locke's bald head and he wiped it away absently. He could feel the heat burning through the fabric of his jumpsuit and the cloth on his hands. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to move faster. The walls and floor were almost too hot to touch now. As Locke made his way he felt like he was crawling across a sizzling griddle. Eventually the tunnel began to slope downwards. Locke followed it into another passageway. He felt cool air on his face and wetness under his fingers. The passageway was flooded with water. There were only several inches of it and it was kind of a relief after the extreme heat. Locke sighed and forced himself to keep moving. He was too tired to think about the possibility of anything being in the water he was crawling through. The passageway ended in a ramp going upwards. Locke pulled himself up this and into a cool dry tunnel. He sank down on the cool dry metal and closed his eyes. All he wanted to do was sleep.
Some time later Locke opened his eyes and slowly sat up. His muscles ached and he felt bruised all over. He bent to examine his knees to see how burned he had gotten. Surprisingly he didn't feel any pain from them. His fingers brushed the fabric of his jumpsuit and immediately jerked back as they touched something soft and gelatinous. Locke grabbed the flashlight and shone it on his legs. Large black leeches covered his knees and clung to his jumpsuit. They must have been in the water he had previously crawled through, he thought. Grunting with disgust he began to pull them off. It could have been a lot worse, he knew. Leeches were annoying but not particularly dangerous. Once they were removed he began to crawl again. What else could they have in store for him? As Locke turned a corner he began to feel air moving against his skin. There was also a whirring sound that got louder as he moved down the passage. He stopped and took out the flashlight. Shining it around Locke could see large fans lining the sides of the tunnel. At the moment the blades were barely moving. Locke put the flashlight back in his pocket and started crawling again. Just then the fans came on full force nearly knocking Locke onto his side. He lowered his head, narrowed his eyes and forced himself to keep going. He wouldn't let them get the best of him. Locke had been tested before and was sure he would be again.
