A/N: All 'LOST' characters belong to their respective creators, and I suppose NBC has some stake in them as well. They're not mine. Just borrowing them.

Now, while I honestly think Mr. Locke was responsible for the attack on Sayid, this fic is going to be my personal exploration of the possible reasons why someone else might be motivated to stop him. There will be more chapters to come. Spoilers for 'Moth', I guess.

OFFENSIVE ELEMENTS

By TesubCalle

The third flare was airborne, reaching for the sky, smoke trailing in its wake. Its initial bright flash subsided and it was now sputtering, lazily floating on the ocean breeze. It arced and then began its decent, pulled by gravity's inevitable force.

Sayid had been waiting with nervous anticipation for this final confirmation. He felt a rush of energizing adrenaline. The plan was working! With all three antennae in place, he now had a chance of triangulating that elusive signal. If he was successful in pinpointing the source of that haunting and disturbing message; the iterations counting down the sixteen years the French woman's message had been repeating itself, looping and broadcasting for God knows who to hear...They might possibly get some answers about this island; its former inhabitants; possibly an additional power source – maybe one they could use for sending a distress signal of their own. The transceiver hissed and came to life as Sayid switched it on. The tiny bars on the screen blipped and surged to the maximum, indicating the strong presence of a signal.

"Yes!" Sayid cried triumphantly. "Now where are you? Where are you?" He turned this way and that, judging the strength of the signal. Was it stronger to the north? East? West? Sou –

Just out of his field of vision, an unknown assailant had crept up behind Sayid, striking a powerful blow to the back of his head, rendering him unconscious.

When Sayid came to, he was lying in the warm grass. For the briefest of moments he fancied he had been injured in battle. This was Desert Storm, and he had been hurt during some excursion into enemy territory. He quickly nixed that line of thinking. This was clearly not some scorching desert in Iraq. This was a deserted island. His head throbbed with a splitting headache, and the rays of the setting sun were painful to his eyes. Slowly, carefully, Sayid raised himself up on shaky legs.

What had happened? The last thing he remembered was trying to triangulate that signal when...

The transceiver! With a sinking heart, he found the precious piece of equipment smashed; the antenna he had assembled with such care and patience, torn down. Then rage began to boil up within him. Who would be so brazen as to attack him, unprovoked, when he was so clearly trying to help everyone?

Sawyer.

"Funny," Sayid thought with a wry smile, "that Sawyer is the first one to spring to mind..."

But no matter how hard he tried to think of a reason why the young, cocky American would thwart this attempt to find some answers and ultimately get off the island, Sayid could come up with nothing concrete. Sawyer was clearly far too unintelligent to plan a covert attack like that. He was probably too occupied ogling Kate or Claire or Shannon, or any other female on the beach for that matter, or tending to his stash of other people's property he had scavenged from the plane wreck. What a thoroughly despicable excuse for a human being, Sayid thought with contempt.

The Korean man? Hadn't he recently laid into Michael for no apparent reason? Was he really that much of a loose cannon? And his poor wife...That woman looked like she lived under his thumb, constantly. But again, Sayid could not think of any compelling reason why the Korean would assault him from behind. A sneak attack didn't seem to be his style.

Taking a last look at this latest and most likely last set-back in his plans, Sayid began the trek back to the 'home camp' of the beach with a heavy heart. What would he tell Kate and Boone and the others? The two had been so eager to assist him on this 'mission'. Especially Kate. Sayid truly admired her unquestioning dedication to whatever scheme he might be devising.

Sayid was returning, too, with some trepidation. Somewhere in that camp was someone bent on sabotaging them. Someone with a vested interest in keeping them all here. While he had no suspects, Sayid knew he would never be able to look at them all without a hint of suspicion.