The Good Guys by The DharmaShark

[Kiowa Warrior]

Chapter 1 - The Running Man

Desmond ran. He could feel the searing heat of the jungle all around him, but still he ran. Driven by the fear of certain death he sped on in a daze. Countless thoughts raced through his mind. Where am I going? Who were those people? That guy from the stadium, how the hell did he get here? The button, what’s going to happen? Soon his mind was turned to the burning pain throughout his body. I can’t go for much longer, not in this heat. Soon the world around him began to spin, the ground beneath him seemed to shake, his vision blurred, a ringing filled his ears. Its over, we’re all dead, he thought as his world was engulfed in black. He fell with a thud, his head slamming against something that definitely wasn’t the jungle floor, he just didn’t stay conscious long enough to realise it. . . . . .


Chapter 2 - The Discovery

Desmond woke. Light blinded his eyes. Am I in Heaven?, he wondered. Looking around he realised he was still very much alive, trees still surrounded him, it was as hot as ever. Did they fix it?, he thought. He didn’t care. He was still alive. He was free of that bloody hatch. A smile crept across his face. It was short lived as he discovered he couldn’t get up, he hadn’t the strength. Instead, he lay there on the floor, gathering his thoughts. He couldn't think straight, his head throbbed, the jungle around him still spun slightly, blood stained the ground from the gash to his head. Wiping the sweat and blood from his face Desmond eventually struggled to his knees and reached for the backpack he‘d taken with him. Looking inside he was relieved to see that the drink was still intact. Hauling himself against a tree he pulled a bottle from the bag. He sat studying it for a moment, Dharma Initiative Apple Cider. Pop, the bottle opened and he took a long swig. It was warm, but booze was booze to him at this point. Finishing it, he then tossed it away and it smashed. He laid his head back against the tree for a moment before realising. He stood up, puzzled. Walking to the shards he stomped on the ground. There was something solid under the soil. Something metallic. Frantically Desmond cleared away the dirt and was faced by an all too familiar sight. In front of him was a steel hatch with two handles bound by chains and right in the middle a stencilled DHARMA confirmed to Desmond what he had found. He pulled at the chains. Not a chance could he open it that way. He grabbed his bag and searched through it. Grinning he produced a pistol and a box of ammo. He began to load his weapon when he was stopped by a strange sound behind him. He quickly spun and looked around at the trees. No movement. Must’ve been a bird, he muttered to himself. He turned back to the hatch and took aim at the chains only to see a blur of black flying past him, making the same ticking type noise he’d just heard. He stood up, concerned. He looked around, the birds in the trees around him flew off suddenly. Something wasn’t right. He could feel it. He gripped his weapon tightly . . . . . BOOM! Something exploded behind him and he turned to see dirt flying everywhere. An ear piercing hoot filled the air. Desmond stood terrified as trees were uprooted all around him, what the hell was going on? CRASH! Another tree was blown to pieces, showering Desmond with more dirt. Something big was coming towards him. Another hoot, closer this time. Turning he fired rapidly at the hatch, snapping the chains. The noise was getting louder, the explosions getting closer. He pulled at the handles. They were heavy. Summoning all his strength Desmond hauled the hatch open, then, without so much as looking inside, he grabbed his bag and plunged into the darkness below . . .


Chapter 3 - Going Underground

The air in the shaft whooshed past Desmond as he fell, the light at the top got weaker and weaker. Reaching out in desperation Desmond grabbed hold of a rung on the ladder and his free-fall came to an abrupt halt. He felt as though his arm was going to rip off as he held on for dear life halfway down the pitch black shaft. Wincing back the pain he managed to get a grip on the ladder with both hands. The pain eased. The panic subsided. It’s been some day! He laughed to himself. Slowly he began to make his way to the bottom. He reached the base of the ladder and searched around for his fallen bag in the dark. The booze will definitely be ruined now, he thought. Searching through it he produced a torch which thankfully wasn’t broken. Shining it on the walls around him he saw a door with the familiar eight sided, black and white symbol stamped in the middle. Scanning it he saw what looked like a man with a bow and arrow along with the token DHARMA stencilled in the centre. He spun the wheel on the door, it screeched and grinded before opening. Stepping inside cautiously he noticed a small set of stairs going down in front of him. It was cold and deathly quiet. There were lights running along the roof but most were smashed and apart from the occasional flicker, none were on. The path ahead was forked. A dim light illuminated the path to his left. The walls were concrete, much like The Swan. Desmond slinked round to the left corridor, hugging the wall as he moved. Turning off the torch, he moved towards the light. He stopped as he reached a door on his left. He turned the handle. Nothing. It was locked. At the end of the corridor was an octagonal room, the source of the weak light. There were filing cabinets lining the walls, papers scattered on the floor and a desk with a computer resting on it in the middle. Desmond moved in. He treaded carefully towards the computer. It was on, but the screen was blank but for a blinking green cursor. He pressed random keys, nothing. He then saw there was an EXECUTE button. The sight of it made him feel uneasy. He pushed it hesitantly. For a second, still nothing, then all of a sudden a DHARMA logo appeared on the screen - the same one he’d seen on the door. Under the symbol were the words Station 2 - The Hunter. The screen then flashed to a login sequence. A password was needed. Desmond typed anything he thought might work. Dharma, Hunter, Station, DeGroot, Hanso. No luck. He looked around the room. The roof had the logo on it, the picture of the man suddenly made sense. Desmond picked up some of the files on the floor. It was a list. He recognised the Latin, but couldn’t translate it. Scanning the list he could make no sense of it - Ursus maritimus, partis, vulturius. The list went on for ages. What did all that mean? He left the computer room behind and made his way warily to the other corridor. Shining his torch he saw a large door at the end. Moving down the corridor carefully, turning only to make sure there was no one or nothing behind him, he reached the door and spun the wheel, yet more screeching and grinding. The room inside was pitch black. The torch was weakening. He searched the wall and found a switch. He flicked it and the room was filled with light. Desmond’s eyes burned at this new brightness but he soon noticed he was in a massive room filled with cages. Some were big, some were small, all of them empty. He made his way down another few stairs and read the labels on the cages. The words were familiar. The largest of the cages was labelled Ursus Maritimus. This time it was translated. Desmond was shocked at what he read - Polar Bear. He scanned the other cages - vulture, snake, there was even an empty fish tank. Suddenly there came a laugh from behind him. Desmond froze.
“Hell Des, I never thought I’d see you again.” Came a familiar voice.
Desmond turned, disbelieving. He almost choked on his words,
“Kelvin?” . . .



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[Kiowa Warrior]

Chapter 4 - An Old Friend

“But . . . You’re dead!” Desmond stammered.
Kelvin laughed again.
“Just ‘cos I disappeared don’t mean I died Des”
“Why did you leave me?” Desmond said, his anger growing.
“WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME?” He shouted this time. Kelvin began to laugh again and Desmond flew for him. He took Kelvin by surprise and they went flying into the cages. Desmond was overcome with rage, he wanted to kill him. But before he could so much as land a punch there was the click of a cocked gun behind him. Desmond turned to see a bearded, very rugged looking man pointing a gun at his head - the man we know as Zeke. Desmond looked back at Kelvin, he wasn’t laughing anymore. There seemed to be a shade of guilt on his face. The hatred inside Desmond began to pass. He released his grip on Kelvin’s shirt. He asked again,
“Why?”
“Duty called” Kelvin replied.

Five minutes later and Desmond was sitting against one of the cages, unable to shake off the feeling of betrayal. Duty called? What the hell does that mean?, he wondered. Kelvin had left the room a few minutes ago, leaving Desmond with the bearded man.
“So. . .You live in here?” Desmond asked.
“Nah”, Zeke replied. “Our place is better than this. A lot less depressing”, he grinned.
“What’s this place for then, brother?” Des inquired. Zeke looked around at all the cages and said,
“Station 2 - The Hunter, Zoological and Biological Studies.” Zeke looked at Desmond. “They messed about with animals and stuff”, he finished.
“And the polar bears?” Desmond nodded towards the cages.
Zeke laughed and said,
“DHARMA had some wild ideas.”
“So why aren’t they using this place anymore, brother?” Desmond asked.
“Science don’t matter here these days, not since Hanso took over”, Zeke looked at Desmond with a serious expression on his face.
“Hanso? I thought he was -” Desmond was cut off by Kelvin returning. He was carrying a large bag at his side.
“OK, we’re done here” Kelvin announced. “Sam, you and Des can give me a hand getting this bag up the shaft. Let’s move.” Kelvin looked at Des. “I’m assuming you’re coming with us?” Desmond nodded but said nothing.
“Good”, Kelvin smiled.

It was a task getting that bag up the shaft for any man. But for Desmond, who was completely drained it was quite an ordeal. Nearing the top he gave the bag a final push and Kelvin hauled it out of the shaft. Des climbed out and sat exhausted.
“No time for rest Des,” Kelvin said, “Too dangerous here.”
“You’re telling me, brother?” He panted in reply, recalling his experience earlier.
Desmond didn’t move. He couldn’t. Kelvin came towards him and held out a hand,
“I’m sorry, brother”, he apologised.
Desmond smiled slightly and grabbed Kelvin’s hand and was pulled to his feet. Kelvin then turned and shared the load of the bag with Sam.
“Lets go Des”, he said.
Desmond sighed and followed, wondering where the hell he was going now . . .


Chapter 5 - Home

“How much further?” It was the first words Desmond had spoken for the best part of an hour.
“Not far”, Sam replied smiling. At that moment Sam and Kelvin stopped.
“We’re here”, Sam declared.
“Where exactly is here, brother?” Desmond replied, drained.
Sam grinned. Kelvin cleared some vines next to Desmond, revealing another large door. Again it had a DHARMA logo on it. Desmond didn’t have time to look at it as Kelvin heaved the doors open. Inside there was a very small space. Sam ushered Des inside, still grinning at the look of confusion on his face.
Kelvin was last in and he shut the door. The space was lit up. There was a large red button on the wall. Sam pressed it and the floor began to move downwards. It’s an elevator! Desmond realised, feeling quite silly for not spotting it before. At the bottom there was a small corridor. It was lit, illuminating a door at the end. They proceeded down it and Kelvin opened it, allowing Sam inside.
“Honey, I’m home!” Sam cackled. Drawing the attention of those inside.
The room was huge, had computers and desks lining both sides and had stairs leading up to two walkways on both sides. There were multiple doors on the second level. Desmond was so taken aback by the room that he didn’t realise all the people in it were looking at him.
He finally noticed but didn’t know what to say. Kelvin spoke for him,
“This is Des, my old partner from The Swan”
One of the men, who like the others, was dressed in rags like Sam, piped up,
“A button pusher?” he laughed. “Old Kelvin ain’t been the same since he came outta that place.”
“Shut up Mullins”, Kelvin replied.
There were about seven of them in total.
“So . . . Are you people part of DHARMA?” Des asked, his first words.
Sam chuckled and said,
“We’re the good guys Des!”
Sam’s words caused laughter among the others.
“So what does that make DHARMA then, brother?” Desmond asked.
“There is no DHARMA anymore, just us. And of course, Hanso.” Mullins informed him.
“I thought Hanso was part of DHARMA?” Des was getting confused.
Kelvin, who had been emptying the contents of the bag onto a desk, joined in,
“They were, then they got carried away. You remember the Orientation film in the Swan don’t ya, Des?”
“Of course”
“Well you remember the bit about Hanso being a munitions magnate? But that he’d changed his ways?” Kelvin continued.
Des nodded.
“Well he started up a foundation, and he funded the original DHARMA projects. Then, awhile ago, Hanso himself disappeared without a trace. Now, his executives run the show, not just at his own company, but here as well. The focus here now ain’t about science, it’s about developing the next generation of war machines. We were the original DHARMA workers, most here were the security team, some of us were scientists. Now, Hanso have their own men in, their own agenda. We were classed as surplus to requirements. When we objected, we got thrown out here. Into this hell hole of an Island.”
“But what are Hanso gonna do with all these weapons?” Desmond asked.
“Well, most of them are still at a very early stage in their development, but most likely they’ll be supplying terrorists with this stuff. They can test anything they want here, ‘cos no one out there can see ‘em.” Kelvin said, grim faced.
“What’s ‘out there‘ ?”, Desmond asked.
“The rest of the world. As far as the rest of the world can see, this place don’t exist. Hanso can supply as much weapons as they want to terrorists, get stinking rich from it and never get caught ‘cos like I said, this place don’t exist.” Kelvin finished.
“How is it invisible?” Desmond replied.
“We’re not sure, something to do electromagnetism”, Kelvin looked as though he genuinely didn’t know the answer to that one.
“But won’t someone start to question Hanso and half his company disappearing?” Des asked, curious.
“Not likely, ‘cos back in the real world, The Hanso Foundation is fuelling all sorts of scientific projects. Back there, no one knows Hanso is missing, the guy was a recluse so it’s pretty much normal for nobody to see him much. No one would ever question The Hanso Foundation would they Des?”
Desmond didn’t reply, this was all quite a bit to take in for him. Kelvin turned back to the desk. Desmond stared at the ground then at all the people in the room. They were all sitting silently. Turning his attention back to Kelvin he asked,
“Then where do you lot fit into this then, brother?”
Kelvin grinned and revealed what he been sorting on the desk - guns. Holding a rifle in the air he said proudly,
“Us? We’re the resistance!”
The words sparked cheers around the bunker. Desmond couldn’t believe it. He had just joined a group of rebels. . .


Chapter 6 - Plan Of Action

I can’t remember the last time I slept so well, Desmond thought, awakening from his first night spent with these rebels. Getting out of the bed he’d been given in one of the upstairs rooms he made his way out to the walkway, seeing all of Kelvin’s men gathered down below. They seemed to be deep in conversation about something. One of the men, Johnson, noticed Des on the walkway and beckoned for him to join them. They all looked up at him.
“Mornin’ Des!” Sam shouted up, he never seemed to stop grinning.
Desmond made his way down to join the group. Kelvin was stood with a map in front of him, the rest were huddled round the desk.
“OK, like I was saying, Austen has left some pretty important info at the drop off. It says there will be a boat arriving at midnight tonight on the North shore of the Island, delivering a shipment of chemicals. Chemicals that are integral to Hanso‘s latest and most important project, Austen himself doesn‘t know much about it, just that it‘s big. Very big. Now, our mission here gentlemen is to sabotage, not to run in there all guns blazing, that’s how people get killed. That isn’t the way we’re gonna go about things, am I clear?” The group nodded. Desmond didn’t quite know what to make of this.
“We’ll move along the beach to the dock. We all know where that is don’t we?” Kelvin asked. The group nodded again.
“Because of all the animals and stuff that were kept in The Hunter they had a helluva lot of equipment there.” Kelvin moved to the table where he’d sorted the guns.
“We have . . .Pistols, rifles, tranquillisers and . . .” He held something small in the air,
“Flash and smoke grenades, perfect!” He smiled.
“Well what exactly do you wanna do, brother?” Desmond asked from the back of the group.
“We’re getting’ our hands on those chemicals.” Kelvin replied.
“Then what?”, Mullins piped up.
Desmond looked at him, he was a small man, but he was clever. In the day Des had spent with them he seemed to be a very smart, quick witted guy.
“We take ‘em, then we get rid of ‘em.”, replied Kelvin.
Mullins nodded.
“When do we leave?”, Sam grinned, as he always seemed to do.
“An hour, don’t waste it.” Kelvin smirked.
The group dispersed. Desmond walked over to Kelvin, who was loading more weapons and counting the grenades.
“So it’s Sgt. Kelvin nowadays, brother?” Desmond laughed.
Kelvin turned, there was a slight smile on his face.
“Well, someone’s gotta stop these b******s, Des”, he replied, more seriously this time.
“Just don’t go getting yourself killed”, Desmond said, sitting on one of the desks.
He looked around at the bunker. It still had the concrete roof and walls, but it had an overall more important look to the other stations he’d been in. There would have been no two man shifts here.
Kelvin hadn’t replied to Desmond’s last comment.
“Here’s me worrying about you, Kelvin. I’m more likely to get myself killed”, Desmond laughed again.
“Not much chance of that”, Kelvin looked at him.
“Why?”, Desmond asked.
“ ‘Cos you ain’t comin’, Des” Kelvin replied.
Somehow Desmond wasn’t surprised, he didn’t particularly want to go anyway.
“This place ain’t gonna look after itself”, Kelvin said, taking aim with one of the rifles.
“Suit yourself, brother”, Desmond said, walking away.
He couldn’t help but notice a change in Kelvin. It had been a long time since the day he woke up to the blaring of an alarm, the day his shouts to Kelvin echoed without a response. He got lucky that day, because there was only 20 seconds from the time Desmond woke up and the end of the world. The world came within one second of disaster, Desmond was sure of that. It was only later, still concerned at Kelvin’s disappearance that he noticed there was a shotgun missing from the armoury. His heart sank, he’d never thought Kelvin would ever take his own life. He always thought he would die in this place before Kelvin. All that had changed just two days ago. Now Kelvin seemed more like a hardened soldier than the man Desmond used to share a good few jokes with in the Swan, hard as that may seem.

Desmond walked up to one of the rooms upstairs, where the rest of the men were gathered in one of the bedrooms.
“Desmond!” Sam proclaimed. “Coming to join us on our little adventure?”, He asked.
“Don’t think so, I’m on night watchman duty by the looks of things”, Desmond replied.
“Ahh . . . Don’t worry Hamish, you’ll get your chance.” Sam chuckled.
“Not sure if I want one, brother”, Desmond sighed.
Sam smiled.
“You’ll want one eventually”, Sam told him.
Desmond didn’t reply, he’d just noticed how badly he smelled. He’d been wearing the same clothes since he left the hatch.
Sam knew what Desmond was thinking and he moved towards the door.
“Right this way, Des”, he grinned.

An hour had passed, Desmond sat on the desk with fresh clothes on, watching Kelvin’s little army prepare to leave. As much as he didn’t like the idea of going out to fight Hanso, he did feel a bit left out, a bit of an extra. He watched Kelvin, he could sense the weight of responsibility on the mans shoulders. This was difficult for him, knowing that he may be about to lead these men to their deaths. The mission would be dangerous. Hanso would be ruthless, their men would take no prisoners.
“All set?” Desmond asked Kelvin.
He nodded, and looked at Desmond.
“See you in another life yeah?” Kelvin broke a wry smile.
The two shook hands, possibly for the last time, Kelvin then turned to his men.
“Lets move”, he said. His men followed him through the corridor and into the elevator. There was barely space for all of them. The doors closed, Desmond was alone in the bunker. It was a feeling he was used to . . .

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[Kiowa Warrior]

Chapter 7 - The Running Man Mk. II

The following takes place immediately after Michael talks to Walt for the second time . . .

Hello?

>: Hello?

Who is this?

>: This is Michael. Who is this?

Dad?

>: Walt?

You have to come and get me. NOW.

>: Where are you?

They’re coming back. Must go. They’re keeping me undergr -



It was at that moment the screen returned to black . . .

Michael ran, a rifle slung over his shoulder. He’d just left two of his friends trapped in the armoury. There was no room for sympathies now though, he had to get his son back, one way or another.
Walt hadn’t finished his last sentence, but Michael knew enough. His son was underground. In one of those hatches. Finding one would be lucky, finding the right one was something else entirely. He had to try. He felt as though he owed it to Walt, and also to himself.

He knew as soon as Jack and Locke got out, they would come after him. He wasn’t going back. They’d have to shoot him. He pounded on through the trees, stumbling countless times. Breathless, he looked all around him. How do you look for one of these things? They could be anywhere!, He decided to keep running, and keep the faith that he’d get lucky.

Night was falling, still he’d found nothing, he was running around blindly. Exhausted, he finally stopped at the sound of something moving through the trees. Instinctively he fired a shot into the dark. The bullet rebounded off something. A loud clanging sound filled the air. Michael ran towards where he’d shot at. He fired again, straight ahead. Another clang. Moving towards the sound once more he was faced by a wall of vines. He slung the rifle back over his shoulder, scanning what he saw in front of him. He pulled back the vines and there it was - a door. Michael stepped back in amazement. Had he found it? There was only one way to find out . . .

Desmond woke. His first thoughts were of Kelvin and his men. Moving out to the walkway he realised they were yet to return. He got himself some food from the bunker’s pantry. Food, provided by the mysterious Austen, whom Kelvin seemed to be relying on for a lot of things. It was unusually cold in the bunker. The door leading to the elevator was open, Desmond noticed from the walkway. THUD!, He didn’t get a chance to investigate as something smashed into the side of his head. He dropped to the floor like a stone . . .


Chapter 8 - Ambush

Kelvin and his men walked all through the day, hardly making a sound. They stuck as close to the coastline as they could, occasionally having to cut inland. As the skies began to darken they used only one flashlight, keeping the risk of being spotted from afar at a minimum. Mullins, who was a boy scout in his younger years, lead the way, his knowledge of terrain being of great use.

Kelvin checked his watch, surprised it still worked throughout all these years. 11:38 PM - they were close. Suddenly Mullins stopped, motioning that he would go on ahead and scout the area. He disappeared into the trees without a sound. The ground sloped upwards ahead of him, reaching the top he cleared the bushes and looked down. There it was - the dock. There were about 20 people on it, all of them seemed very busy, they were all dressed in the same clothes - grey jumpsuits and Mullins could just make out the Hanso Foundation logo on the back. All of them except for one man, who stood at the edge of the pier dressed in a black, obviously expensive suit. He stood staring out to the sea. Waiting. Expecting.

Mullins returned back down the slope to where the others were waiting, he beckoned for them to follow. Reaching the top of the slope Kelvin peered down at the brightly lit dock. They waited. Ten minutes passed before a light appeared far out on the rolling ocean. It was weak at first, but grew stronger as each minute passed. Eventually, a boat became visible.

Suddenly Kelvin got up and disappeared into the jungle.
“Kelvin!” Mullins called after him. Nothing. The boat would be docking in about 10 minutes, they had to move fast and Kelvin vanishing like that didn’t help. He returned two minutes later. He was carrying a cardboard box in his hands.
The men were puzzled. What was this?
Kelvin grinned and said,
“I forgot to say, Austen left us a nice present, just where I could find it”,
He tore open the box and inside were the same jumpsuits the men on the dock were wearing.
“How did you know where to find ‘em?” Sam asked.
“Well Austen told me that there was a ridge above the dock and that he’d left us a nice surprise close by it”, Kelvin replied, taking all the clothing from the bag.
“There’s only enough for a few of us, so some of you are gonna be staying here”, Kelvin said.
“I will”, Sam volunteered.
“You sure?”, Kelvin asked.
Sam nodded.
“Ok then, lets get suited up folks”, Kelvin said, putting on one of the suits.
“We’ll go in round the back, blend in, get onto the ship and put the chemicals in a bag. Sneak outta there, take ‘em back and find out just what the hell they are. Am I clear?” Kelvin asked.
They all nodded.
“Ok, Mullins, Johnson, Cooper - let’s move.” Kelvin said, making his way along the ridge. They were all equipped with tranquillisers and grenades.
They made there way down the ridge and hid in some bushes. A few Hanso employees passed, and soon fell from the darts embedded in their backs.
Kelvin and his men quickly pulled the unconscious men into the bushes and made their way casually out to the dock.
Despite coming this far, Kelvin sensed something wasn’t right. They were being watched. Suddenly a shot rang out. Instinctively Kelvin dived into the bushes, quickly getting up and running before anyone had a chance to catch him. The others on the dock weren’t so lucky. Cooper had a bullet in his shoulder and they were surrounded by Hanso guards, all wielding rifles. The game was up.
“You move, you die”, one of the guards barked at them.
More shots rang out, this time from up on the ridge. Sam and the others were firing back.
“After them!”, the guard shouted.
The Hanso guards poured into the jungle. The men on the ridge fled. The chase was on.
Sam shouted at his men to keep moving. They were running blindly. Gunshots tore up the ground and trees around them, Sam fired back in reply. The only light in the jungle was from a full moon eerily illuminating the jungle, gunshots still ripped through the trees around Sam.
Then suddenly, all was quiet.
Sam still didn’t stop, he had to get back to the bunker. Where did they go from here? Mullins, Johnson and Cooper were captured, Kelvin and the rest were nowhere to be seen, he just hoped to God that nothing had happened to
Desmond . . .


Chapter 9 - The Interrogater

“Where’s my boy?”
“Where’s Walt?”
“What are you talking about?” Desmond was awake, barely. His vision was blurred. His head throbbed. He could just make out a black man standing in front of him. He tried to move, he couldn’t. He was tied to a desk. He noticed the man had a gun, and he looked pretty panicked.
“What the hell did you do with him?”, the man asked again.
“I’ve not got a clue what your talkin’ about, brother”, Desmond replied, he thought the guy was crazy.
The man wasn’t happy with that reply and punched Desmond hard in the jaw.
Desmond’s head lolled backwards, he could taste blood in his mouth.
“Don’t play stupid with me, I know you’ve got him”, the man told him, seething with anger.
Who the hell was this guy? Desmond wasn’t sure.
“Got who, brother?”, Desmond had a bad feeling about this guy.
“MY SON!”, the man screamed, punching Desmond again.
He was seeing double now. There didn’t seem much chance of convincing this guy.
“You got the wrong people, brother. I don’t know anything about your son”, Desmond told him.
“Stop lyin’ man!” The man shouted again.
“I’m not lying, brother. I don‘t know what I‘d be lying about!”, Desmond said, a little angrily.
The man punched him again, much harder this time. The dizziness took over and Desmond passed out again . . .

Michael was growing frustrated. The man wouldn’t tell him anything, yet Michael was sure he was lying. He looked around the room. What are these places?, Michael wondered. Keeping his gun at the ready he made his way up one of the stair cases. There were three doors. Opening the first he saw two bunk beds inside, there were empty bowls and cups on the floor. A old, tattered book lay on one of the beds. Michael picked it up and read the title, SF Creative Writing - A Compilation. He laid it back down and moved out onto the walkway once more. The man was still out cold. The next room was full of food. All the items had the same brands on them - The Hanso Foundation. That logo was different from those on the doors. What was the connection?, Michael thought. He moved to the last room - more bunk beds. Sighing and growing more frustrated Michael moved to the other walkway. He moved into the first room and saw three TV screens on the walls. Two were smashed and the other flashed slightly. Michael knocked on the side of the flashing screen. It flashed on, the picture was grainy but Michael could see that he was looking at a corridor. He stared at it for a minute, nothing happened, the corridor remained empty. He was about to turn away when he saw three men being lead down the corridor in handcuffs, rifles being jammed into the backs of two of them. The other was being dragged along the floor seemingly unconscious, or dead. Michael was eager to keep watching but was distracted by a noise above him. Someone had entered the elevator . . .

Michael rushed down the stairs, gripping his rifle tightly. He opened the door and looked to the elevator shaft. It would be down in a matter of seconds. Michael began to panic, How many of them are coming? Will they attack me?, He didn’t have time to think anymore. The elevator reached the bottom and the gate opened and in the elevator sat a man, he was barely conscious, but his eyes lit up when he saw Michael, there was a gun at his side and he instinctively reached for it. He was too late. Michael pulled the trigger. The bullet slammed into the mans chest. Slowly the gate closed and the elevator made its way back to the top . . .

The rain pounded down on Sam as he trudged through the jungle. He hadn’t found anyone. Not Kelvin. Not any of the other men. He’d ran and walked all night. The rain was welcome to him at this point. The Hanso men gave up chasing him after about ten minutes. He did hear gunshots and shouts from another direction though, he feared the worst for the others. He walked and walked and walked, the rain showed no signs of stopping, there was no sign of anyone in the jungle. Suddenly the terrain around him became familiar. He’d been here before. He started running again, getting faster and faster as he speeded through the trees until he was faced with the familiar wall of vines. A smile crept across his face. He’d made it back alive. He just hoped he wasn’t the only one. Moving the vines to one side he gripped the handles and heaved the doors open, still smiling. Suddenly his smiles turned to disbelief as he looked inside the elevator. He could barely believe his eyes as he looked at the motionless body in front of him.
“Kelvin?” He choked . . .

If you would like to comment on this work, please follow the link to the original thread:The Good Guys

[Kiowa Warrior]

Chapter 10 - Deaths Door

A loud bang snapped Desmond back into consciousness, he looked all around him, searching for the source of the noise. There seemed to be no one in the bunker. He began to struggle at whatever tied his hands together. He soon realised that is was wire as it dug into his wrists when he pulled at it. His attention was soon drawn to the bunker door as it flew open and the black man stumbled inside, a horrified look on his face.
“What the hell just happened, brother?” Desmond, concerned.
Before the man had the chance to reply the noise of the elevator descending filled the room. Desmond looked at the man, he seemed crazed. The man looked back and said,
“I’m sorry about this” . . .

“Kelvin!”, Sam cried desperately. Kelvin was barely breathing, his eyes had rolled into the back of his head. Blood seeped through his shirt. Sam tore off a piece of his own and held it against the wound. The elevator reached the bottom. Sam turned, the door to the bunker was shut. Lifting Kelvin to his feet he helped him towards the door. He spun the wheel and the door eased open. Sam hauled Kelvin inside and laid him down on the floor.
“KELVIN!” A shout came from the other side of the room. Sam looked up to see Desmond being held at gunpoint.
“Don’t move”, the man called to Sam.
Sam didn’t move. But he did raise his gun.
“Who the hell are you?”, Sam shouted at him.
“Shut up and put the gun down!”, the man shouted back.
“Just do it Sam”, Desmond said, struggling to hold back the rage caused by seeing Kelvin motionless on the floor.
Sam stared coldly at the man holding Desmond hostage before slowly laying down his gun.
“That’s more like it”, the man said. “Now, what the hell did you people do with my boy?”, he was getting angrier.
Sam looked puzzled.
“He thinks we kidnapped his son”, Desmond told him.
“What?”, Sam was even more puzzled now.
“That’s what I said, brother”, Desmond managed to laugh a little.
At that the man fired a warning shot over Sam’s head.
“Stop messin’ me around or he dies”, the man declared, jamming the gun into Desmond’s neck.
“Who are you, brother?” Desmond asked him.
“That doesn’t matter”, he replied.
“You were on that plane weren’t you? You crashed here”, Desmond began to realise who this guy was.
“Shut up!”, the man was beginning to crack.
“Your people found a hatch didn’t you? And you had to push a button every hundred and eight minutes?”, Desmond said.
“Yeah, why?”, the man was becoming less hostile now.
“I was the guy in that hatch, brother! There was a doctor and a bald guy, they said some people went out on a raft or something like that”, Desmond finished.
Suddenly the man threw Desmond to the ground and sat down on one of the desks.
Sam and Desmond ran over to Kelvin, who was struggling to breathe.
“Kelvin can you hear me?”, Desmond was panicking, he feared his fried could be beyond saving.
He didn’t reply, he just grunted and coughed up some blood.
Desmond was almost a doctor once but he wasn’t skilled enough to deal with this. Kelvin’s chest was a mess, Desmond pressed the piece of clothing down on the wound in an effort to stop the bleeding.
Desmond looked at Sam, who was standing not quite knowing what to do.
“Sam, surely you have a first aid kit or something here?”, Desmond asked.
“Mullins had it with him when we left and . . .” Sam trailed off, remembering what had happened to Mullins and the rest.
“Well could you at least do something about him, brother?”, Desmond said, pointing to Michael, who was sitting on a desk, looking very guilty. Sam looked at him, his eyes filled with hate. He grabbed his gun and pointed it at Michael.
“Get up”, Sam commanded.
Michael looked at him and tried to speak but he couldn’t. Sam didn’t ask again, he grabbed Michael and hauled him up the stairs. Throwing him into one of the bedrooms he said,
“We’ll deal with you later”,
Back down on the ground floor Desmond was desperately trying to think of a way to save Kelvin, who was getting paler by the minute. He’d managed to pull the bullet out but didn’t know what to do next. He looked up at Sam who’d just locked the man up. That’s when it hit him. Tying the piece of clothing around the wound Desmond hauled Kelvin over his shoulder.
“What the hell are you doing, Des?”, Sam called as he came rushing back down the stairs.
“I’m going to find a doctor, brother”, Desmond replied, heading for the door.
Sam made after him but Desmond turned and said,
“No, stay here with him”,
Sam looked up at the bedroom and then nodded.
“Good luck, Des”, He said, shutting the door.

The jungle was scorching hot, made even hotter by the fact that Desmond was carrying a half dead man on his back as he ran. He just hoped he wasn’t shot by one of these people before he got to their camp, that is if he could find the camp to begin with. He’d hoped dearly that he would never return to the Swan, all that was about to change as he forced himself to keep sprinting, clinging on to the hope that he wasn’t about to lose the one friend he had in this place . . .

A few hours later . . .

>: 4 8 15 16 23 42 [EXECUTE]

Hugo Reyes sighed, How did those numbers get from his lottery ticket to this computer? Why did he even have to press the stupid button anyway? Who knows if it’s even real?Trying to forget all his annoyances with this Island he made his way to the record player and pulled out a random vinyl. It read, Mama Cass Elliot - Make Your Own Kind Of Music. He had to laugh, his mum used to listen to this song all the time. The music came on, it was quite a catchy tune he had to admit. Making his way to the toilet he was turned by a strange voice behind him,
“Where’s your doctor?”, the voice called.
Hurley turned to see a man, soaked in blood, carrying another, seemingly dead man on his back.
“Dude . . .”


Chapter 11 - Unscheduled Arrival

“Whoa . . .dude”, Hurley didn’t know what to do.
“Your doctor, brother. Where is he?”, Desmond asked, breathless.
“Uhhh . . .he’s at the beach . . . I think”, Hurley was still quite stunned.
“Well could you go get him then!”, Desmond was getting frustrated with him.
“Uhhh . . .yeah sure, dude”,
Hurley set off to the hatch door and out into the jungle, totally bewildered at what was going on . . .

Sam stood outside the door to where their prisoner was being kept, he wanted to beat the living daylights out of the guy, but part of him knew that would achieve nothing, so instead, he just stood outside the door, praying Desmond could find help for Kelvin. Snapping out of his daze he turned to the door and decided to open it, inside the man sat dejectedly on one of the beds, Sam looked at him,
“Who are you?”, he asked.
The man looked at the floor and replied,
“Michael”,
“Where did you come from Michael?”, Sam inquired.
Michael sighed,
“I was in a plane crash just over 2 months ago, no one came, so we built a raft, set off to find rescue, we got a reading on the radar so we set off a flare, that’s when they came. They shot my friend, took my boy, blew up the raft and left us for dead”,
Sam looked shocked, he knew who was behind this, but what he didn’t know is what they wanted with a child?
“So now you’re out here looking for him?”, Sam asked.
“Yeah, I think I found the wrong people”, Michael replied, his feelings of guilt were evident in the way he spoke.
Sam hated himself for what he was about to say, he didn’t owe the guy this but he knew it was the right thing to do,
“We can help you”,

Jack was filling bottles of water on the beach when he seemed to hear someone shouting his name. Looking around he saw nothing, but listened intently. The shouts got louder, he wasn’t imagining things.
“JACK!”, another shout came.
Jack dropped the bottles and moved towards the cries. It wasn’t long before a red faced Hurley emerged from the trees.
“Jack, you need to come to the hatch, dude”, Hurley panted.
“Why what’s wrong?”, Jack replied, concerned.
“Dude, you just gotta trust me, you need to be there”, Hurley said, holding his side.
“OK, OK, I'm on it”, Jack said as he started off quickly into the jungle, leaving an exhausted Hurley trotting along behind.
Back in the hatch, Desmond had laid Kelvin down on the bed, the bleeding had been suppressed by the cloth but it wouldn’t last. Where was the doctor? Leaving Kelvin on the bed Desmond hurried to the sink, where he filled a cup of water. He ran back towards the bed but stopped short, the doctor had arrived. He was surprised to see Desmond,
“You?”, was all a stunned Jack could say. Again.
Desmond stood looking at him for a moment, seeing the man again conjured thoughts of a previous life, away from this hell. He was dragged back to the present by the sound of Kelvin grunting on the bed. Jack looked at this stranger on the bed.
“Who is he?”, Jack asked.
“His names Kelvin. Could you help him first and then ask questions, brother?”, Anxiety was overcoming Desmond, there was a snap to the way he spoke.
Jack didn’t reply, he knelt down next to Kelvin and checked his pulse, it was still beating albeit a little faintly. He then removed the clothing from the wound and quickly stopped the bleeding once more with a clean cloth, the guy was in a bad way and Jack knew it.

“So . . .You people are the good ones?”, Michael was amazed that there were actually two enemy groups of "Others" on this Island.
Sam nodded in reply.
There was a long silence. Michael didn’t know what to say, he may just have killed an innocent man. Sam’s mind wandered elsewhere. Where had Desmond gone? He looked at Michael, maybe he knew?
“Des, before he left, he mentioned a doctor, do you know -”
“Jack”, Michael interrupted. “He’s our doctor, back at the camp.”
At that, Sam stood up. He looked at Michael,
“Take me there. Now”,
Michael knew he was in no position to decline . . .


Chapter 12 - Waiting To Die

Kelvin was coughing up blood, lots of it. There wasn’t much Jack could do. The sound of Kelvin’s spluttering brought Desmond back into the room, he’d wandered off a few minutes earlier. He didn’t say anything, he just looked at Kelvin. He was dying, it was just a matter of when. Jack looked at Desmond, he could see the pain on the mans face. This was obviously a friend of his, from where he didn’t know. The questions could wait. Jack didn’t want to be quizzing a man who was watching his friend die, although he did want to know where Desmond had gone, who this dying man was and how he got that way. All Jack knew was that he’d been shot, nothing more. Jack walked over to the sink and began washing his hands.
“He’s dying isn’t he?”, Desmond asked, unable to take his eyes off his dying friend.
Jack turned from the sink,
“Yeah, he is”, Jack told him. “I can try and make him as comfortable as possible, but apart from that . . .”, Jack trailed off.
“Desmond?”, a voice came from behind Jack. It was Locke.
“What’s going on?”, Locke was shocked to see Desmond, even more shocked to see a stranger lying on the bed.
Jack looked at Kelvin then at Locke,
“I don’t know yet”, was Jack’s reply.
Locke laid his bag on the counter top and looked at Desmond, who had knelt down beside Kelvin. Locke was quite speechless. He didn’t know what to say to Desmond, saying nothing he guessed was more helpful just now.
The sight of Kelvin coughing up yet more blood finally turned Desmond away, me made his way into the pantry and emerged with a bottle of beer. He stood against the wall. The hatch was almost silent, the only noise being the flipping of the clock to 39 minutes.

Almost half an hour had passed since Sam and Michael had left the bunker. None of them had spoken, but Sam couldn’t keep quiet for any longer.
“How far is your camp?”, Sam asked Michael, who was walking at quite a pace.
“A few hours”, Michael replied.
“I can’t believe there was plane crash on this Island and we didn’t know anything about it”, Sam managed to laugh, he was desperately trying to take his mind off things.
“I’m sure there’s a lot of things you don’t know about this place”, Michael’s reply was full of thought, thoughts of something he’d rarely given attention to lately. Just where the hell were they? More important questions soon filled his mind, what was he going to do when they reached the camp? And most of all, had he just killed a man?

“When I left here”, Desmond finally decided to tell Jack and Locke what had happened. “I ran for ages, just blindly. I had nowhere to go. I didn’t think it would matter”, He gave a nod towards the computer. “Then, I fell and hit my head off something, knocked myself out”, He pointed to the cut on his forehead. “When I woke up, I found another one of these places, well, that was after something started destroying trees in the jungle”, Desmond said. Locke’s eyes lit up at the thought of another hatch.
“Inside this place, there was lots of cages, for animals. Then Kelvin came. He takes me to this other bunker, a bigger one. There’s all these other people there. Part of what used to be The DHARMA Initiative, they got taken over by the Hanso Foundation, who’ve taken over all the operations on the Island”, Jack and Locke were blown away by this. Operations?
“So, Kelvin and his men were a bit of a resistance, that’s until half of them disappeared and one of your people shot Kelvin”, Des finished sternly. Jack and Locke were thinking the exactly the same thing.
“Michael”, Locke sighed.
“Where’s Michael?”, Jack said demandingly.
“He’s locked up, back in the bunker”, Desmond replied.
“Locked up? He’s a prisoner?”, Jack wasn’t happy about this.
“Jack, we can’t worry about that just now”, Locke tried to intervene.
“He’s one of our people, John”, Jack replied, a little angrily.
“He shot one of his, Jack!”, Locke replied, pointing at Desmond, who’d turned.
“You need to take us there”, Jack moved towards Desmond, but stopped short.
Desmond was sitting next to a motionless, peaceful at last Kelvin. Desmond stood up and turned to face Jack.
“I’m not taking you anywhere, brother”, He said, walking to the bathroom and locking the door.

Michael and Sam’s journey had fallen into silence once more. Michael still lead the way, his pace as quick as ever. Sam matched the pace, but hung behind. He was still suspicious of Michael even if a little less vigilant towards him. Sam opened his mouth to speak but stopped at the sound of voices behind him. Whispers. Michael stopped also, the two men looked at each other, frozen. Sam drew his gun but before he could raise it something buried itself in his back. He felt dizzy. Very dizzy. All the strength in his limbs left him. He crumpled to the floor unconscious. Michael dashed for the gun, he didn’t get two yards before collapsing next to Sam, impaled with something from behind. Black figures surrounded him as he slipped into darkness . . .

If you would like to comment on this work, please follow the link to the original thread:The Good Guys

[Kiowa Warrior]

Chapter 13 - A New Alliance

“Desmond?”, Jack had been knocking on the door of the bathroom for twenty minutes now. Desmond refused to reply. Kelvin was dead. Desmond just couldn’t accept it. He was sat against the wall, gulping down the beer. Another bang on the door.
“Go away!”, Desmond called.
Jack didn’t listen. He banged on the door once more.
“Maybe you should just leave him, Jack”, Locke called, standing next to the dead Kelvin.
Jack turned.
“Michael is being kept prisoner, John”, Jack said angrily.
“For good reason, Jack”, Locke replied.
“Who knows if he’s even telling the truth?”, Jack motioned at the bathroom door.
The bathroom door opened.
“I’ll prove it to you, brother. Later”, Desmond said, emerging from the bathroom. He looked at his dead friend then at Jack and Locke.
“Got a shovel?”, he asked solemnly.

Sayid sat away from the beach staring out to sea. He thought of Shannon and how she used to do the same when Boone died. Shannon. She was all he thought of now. Nothing else seemed to matter. He was stirred from his thoughts by someone emerging from the bushes behind him. Spinning he saw a very rugged looking man with long hair.
“Who are you?”, Sayid asked, stepping back cautiously.
“Easy, brother”, Desmond told him, raising his hands. Locke appeared behind Desmond.
“Sayid, this is Desmond”, Locke introduced him.
Desmond nodded in Sayid’s direction and began shovelling the earth. Sayid looked at Locke.
“What’s going on?”, Sayid asked, puzzled.
“Long story”, replied Locke.
Sayid didn’t need to ask what Desmond was doing, once you’ve dug a grave, you can tell when someone else is doing the same.
“We’d better leave him to it”, Locke motioned for Sayid to leave with him. Locke explained to Sayid why Desmond had returned whilst walking to the beach. Sayid remained quiet, as if deep in thought about the situation. As they approached the beach they saw Jack had assembled some of the survivors, explaining the situation. The group that had gathered were listening intently, giving occasional glances to Desmond digging a few hundred yards away.
Locke and Sayid caught the last of his speech;
“And after the burial, myself and some others are gonna go find Michael, and we’re gonna bring him back. I promise”, Jack looked at the arriving Locke and Sayid.
With the group dispersing he spoke to them,
“I guess you filled Sayid in on what’s happening”,
Locke nodded.
“We’re leaving as soon as this funeral is over”, Jack announced.
“And who’s coming?”, Sayid inquired.
“Well, I told Sawyer and Kate on the way to the beach. So it’ll be those two plus us three and Desmond”, the mention of Desmond turned them all in his direction, who was still digging. Locke made off towards him with the intention of helping. He wasn’t the only one. Soon four or five of the survivors joined him. Desmond appreciated this, he needed a kind gesture. It was something which he rarely experienced on this Island.

Half an hour later and the funeral was ready to begin, Desmond had brought the body of Kelvin from the hatch with the help of Locke. The survivors were gathered, but all of them felt awkward at the situation. Desmond spoke,
“Kelvin was my friend. He was a good man. He didn’t deserve this. Rest in peace, brother”, Desmond threw some soil into the grave. The others did the same. It was a very confusing time for them.

Desmond, Jack, Locke, Sawyer, Kate, Ana and Sayid had gathered in the hatch. Desmond had just told his story yet again. He felt if he kept telling it he might start to believe it himself.
“Well, seems like we’re in the middle of a little fall out”, Sawyer smirked.
“I doubt it’s a good idea for us all to go”, Locke said.
“True, I’ll stay”, Sayid volunteered.
“So will I”, Ana joined him.
“We need to keep order at the camp, if something happens to you all there’d be no one here to control the people”, Sayid said.
“OK, so when do we leave?”, Sawyer asked, he was glad to be going on another little adventure.
“Now”, Jack declared.
Desmond sighed, he didn’t seem to have much of a say in all of this.

“How far?”, Jack asked Desmond, who was leading the way through the jungle.
“We won’t get there till dark, brother. It took me a few hours to get to your camp”, Desmond replied, as it began to rain.
Sawyer walked at the back with Locke.
“So, Mount Baldimore, who you think these people are?”, Sawyer asked.
“Who do I think what people are?”, Locke replied.
“The Hanso folk, whaddya think they’re up to?”,
“I don’t know James. But from what Desmond’s told us they’re the bad guys. The ones who’ve been snatching people in the middle of the night”,
“Yeah . . . Desmond”, Sawyer looked at the man who lead the way, he did genuinely look like someone who’d been caught up in this, much like they were. He still didn’t trust him though. Not that Sawyer trusted many people anyway.

Night was falling and the rain still fell all around them, Desmond seemed to be looking for signs now. He knew they were close. Even in the dark he couldn’t mistake the wall of vines. He stopped.
“What is it?”, Jack asked.
“We’re here brother”, Desmond declared. They all looked at each other. Where exactly was here . . .?

Thomas Mittlewerk, CEO of The Hanso Foundation readied the tape he was about to show. He looked at the man in the room with him, Alexander Widmore.
He left the readied tape and sat down with Mr. Widmore. Mittlewerk flicked off the lights and pressed play on his remote.
On the screen an image of himself appeared, dressed in a white lab coat. He began to speak,
“Hello, I’m Dr. Thomas Mittlewerk, CEO of The Hanso Foundation and this is the Orientation for your role in Project Salvation.
The Dharma Initiative has failed. We must now take drastic action if the future of Mankind is to be secured. With the impending launch of the Flight 81 -”, the two men’s attention was drawn from the film by someone entering the room.
“What is it?!”, An annoyed Mittlewerk demanded.
“I’m sorry sir, but we’ve brought in another two” . . .


Chapter 14 - The Other Side

Sam cursed as he and Michael were thrown roughly into a cell. Michael lay on the floor silently, he was exhausted. They weren’t alone in the cell.
“Good to see you again, Sam”, Mullins managed a weak smile. Johnson nodded at Sam. Cooper was asleep, his shoulder wound bandaged.
“Who’s this?”, Mullins asked, looking at a motionless Michael.
“This is Michael”, Sam replied grimly, these weren’t exactly the best people for Michael to be around. Suddenly Michael sat up and slumped against the cold, grey wall.
“How long have they had you in here?”, Sam asked.
Mullins shrugged.
“Time doesn’t exist in here”, he half-laughed.
“What about them?”, Sam looked out of the cell.
“We were told, that we were expendable to the project”, Mullins told him.
“What?”, Sam was confused.
“That’s what we said”, Mullins replied, smiling.
Sam couldn’t help smiling either. The grin was quickly withdrawn when thoughts of Kelvin re-entered his mind.
How was he supposed to tell them? He was about to start talking when he heard footsteps coming down the corridor. The men pressed themselves against the bars and watched as a young, slightly nervous looking man came towards the cell. He had a tray of food in his hand. Opening the cell door slightly he laid it down on the floor and quickly retreated, eyeing the men uncertainly. They stared back, they could sense he was intimidated. They remained silent until they could hear him leaving the cell block.
“Who was that?”, Michael finally broke his silence.
“That, was our ticket outta here”, Sam grinned.

Alexander Widmore explored the room he had been left in. Mittlewerk had stopped the film before he left, deliberately not wanting Widmore to see it without him being there. Mittlewerk had left about ten minutes ago, and Widmore was now looking at all the photos on the wall. There was one of a ship, the Black Rock, Widmore had heard of it before. It was captained by Alvar Hanso’s grandfather, Magnus. In fact, Widmore’s father had named one of his ships after it. That was back when all he did was build ships. All of that had changed now. Alexander wasn’t exactly sure why he was here. His father had sent him to meet Mittlewerk, so that he could be filled in on his dads latest business venture. He’d got on a plane with Mittlewerk, fell asleep and woke up in this place. Mittlewerk had told him he was out for the whole flight, Widmore wasn’t so sure. Something about it wasn’t quite right. He didn’t even know what country he was in! Mittlewerk had dodged the question, urging him to watch the film before he asked any questions. All he got was something about an Initiative and an experiment, what was his dad getting up to?

“What do you mean our ‘ticket outta here’?”, Johnson asked.
“You saw how nervous that kid was, we can use him to get out of here”, Sam replied.
Before they could discuss it any further, the cell block door was opened once more. The group fell into silence. A different guard appeared. He looked sternly at the men and opened the cell.
“You”, he said, nodding towards Michael.
“Get up, Mr. Mittlewerk wants to see you”, he finished.
Michael looked around at Sam and the others before getting up, as if to say sorry. The guard slapped a pair of handcuffs on his Mike and lead him down the corridor, at the end he stopped and blindfolded Michael. They both left the corridor, the guard shoving Michael in the right direction from time to time. Finally, the guard grabbed Mike to stop him. He could hear a door being opened in front of him, he was soon lead inside and onto a chair. The guard removed his blindfold, Michael squinted, his eyes adjusting to the light.
“Hello Michael”, Mittlewerk said from across the room.

“Where do you think they’ve taken him?”, Mullins asked Sam.
“That doesn’t matter just now, what matters is us getting out of here”, Sam told him.
“So how do we do that?”, came a voice - Cooper had woken up. Sam grinned, perfect.

Chester stood next to the cell block door, looking as nervous as ever. It was his second week in his new job for The Hanso Foundation. He’d been a security guard many times before but this place gave him a strange feeling. A research bunker underneath the Nevada desert was a lot different from anything he’d ever done. The place was so secretive. They’d even blindfolded him for the whole helicopter journey to the bunker. They said he couldn’t be able to know how to ever get back to this place. How would be able to memorise how to get to somewhere in the Nevada desert anyway? Nonetheless, he had a job to do. Opening the cell block door, he made his way back to the cell where the prisoners were being kept. Another thing that puzzled him, why would Hanso keep prisoners? Approaching the cell he could hear groaning inside. A call came from inside,
“Hey! Help!”, a voice cried.
Inside the cell a man was holding his shoulder and groaning in pain.
“You gotta help him, man”, one of the prisoners told him.
Chester wondered what to do, should he help?
“Uhhh . . .”, Chester panicked a little.
“OK I’ll help. Slide over to the cell door and I’ll take him to get help. I any of you try anything I won’t hesitate to use this thing”, Chester raised his gun, warning them unconvincingly. One of the men hauled the injured man to the door and retreated to the rear of the cell, his arms raised. Chester opened the door slightly and dragged the man out, shutting it again quickly. After locking it he turned and froze, the man had gotten to his feet. He wasn’t injured at all! Before Chester could react the man trusted a knee into his gut. Chester doubled up in pain, dropping his gun. Winded he dropped to his knees. The man picked up the gun and brought it down hard on the back of Chester’s head, knocking him out cold.

Michael spat at Mittlewerk. He despised the man and he didn’t know him. All that mattered was that they had his son.
Wiping the spit from his face Mittlewerk said,
“I’ll pretend that didn’t happen”,
“Where’s my son?!”, Michael demanded angrily.
“Walt is fine, he’s a very special boy Mr. Dawson”, Mittlewerk smiled.
“How do you know my name?”, Michael asked.
Mittlewerk laughed.
“All in due time my friend”,
Suddenly, an alarm rang out.
Mittlewerk cursed. What was going on now?
“Keep him tied up!”, Mittlewerk instructed the guard as he left the room.

Widmore had had enough, he’d been left alone for near enough half an hour now. And this alarm going off was the final straw. Getting up from his seat he made for the door, opened it and stepped out into the chaos.

Sam ran as fast as he could, the others had been forced to take a different route due to the presence of the guards so they were separated yet again. He couldn’t hang around waiting for them though. At least one of them had to get out of here. He was surrounded by twisting corridors, pipes lined the roofs. He got the feeling that if this was Hanso’s Island base, this wasn’t the main part of it. Suddenly voices came from a corridor to his right, people were running down it. He made for the nearest door to him and rushed inside. Luckily the footsteps ran past the door, heading off in another direction. Sam breathed a sigh of relief. He turned to make down this new corridor but stopped at the sight of a pretty bewildered looking man standing about ten feet ahead of him. Sam didn’t hesitate, he made straight for the man who stumbled back in fear. Sam didn’t break his stride as he planted a right hook on the man’s face, knocking him to the ground. He pulled back to strike again but stopped as he noticed the man was unconscious. He knelt down beside him, he was wearing an ID badge. It read,

Widmore, Alexander.
Business Associate.
All Access Pass.
V.I.P.

This guy was important. Too important to be ignored. Hauling the man over his shoulders he made off down the corridor again.

Mullins and Johnson hauled Cooper inside the room just in time, the guards were only a few feet round the corner as Mullins shut the door. Luck smiled upon them again as the guards ignored ran past, distracted by something else.
“Now what?”, A breathless Johnson asked.
Mullins looked at Cooper. He was in no state to keep going. Knocking out that guard had drained him.
The men were in a store room, it looked old, dust covered all the boxes inside.
“Wait here for awhile. Cooper won’t last if we keep going”, Mullins decided. Johnson wasn’t so sure.
“What if they come back?”, he asked.
“You’ve got a gun haven’t you?”, Mullins replied.
Johnson fell silent, he knew Mullins wouldn’t change his mind. He just hoped the guards gave up the chase.

Sam was beginning to wonder whether he should just leave Widmore. He decided against it, this guy could hold a lot of information. And besides, he doubted the guards would shoot if there was danger of hitting one of their own.
He turned another corner, there was a door at the end. It was old, much like the doors in the hatches. Scanning the door Sam could make out some faded stencilling.

TUNNELS TO ALL STATIONS
USE ONLY IN EMERGENCY

Sam pulled at the wheel on door, hauling it open. It was totally dark inside. He had to go on.
It was his only chance . . .


Chapter 15 - The Equation

Locke was fascinated. Another station, another opportunity. Desmond, with the help o