Chapter Two

By the time the van stopped over an hour later, Jack was shaking all over, not just because he was afraid for himself, but because Kate was there with him, and if anything happened to her now…

They were unloaded from the van and herded inside; Jack wanted to reach out and take Kate's hand, to comfort her, but his hands were still bound and it was no use.

When the hoods were removed, Jack found that he was in some kind of large, white room with bright, fluorescent lights and bleached-white tiles and walls. There was a table and an arrangement of chairs. The right hand wall was a mirror.

Agent Muff removed the handcuffs.

"What's going on?" Jack demanded, "Why did you bring us here?"

"You'll understand soon enough." Muff promised, hooking the cuffs to his belt.

"You can't just arrest us for no reason!" Kate objected.

"You haven't been arrested-"

Angrily, Jack took a step forward, "Then what is this?" He really wanted to hit Muff right in the face, but managed to contain himself, knowing that would only make everything worse.

But Muff didn't answer. He just smiled at them, sort of slyly, and left.

For the next instant, everything was so quiet, Jack could have heard a pin drop three rooms over, and then he turned to Kate at the same instant she caught onto his sleeve, "Are you all right?"

"Did they hurt you?"

"No," he tried to smile, "I'm fine. You?"

Kate looked around, eyes scanning the ceiling and walls, a sure sign that she was looking for an escape route, "What's going on, Jack?"

"I don't know."

"Sawyer…what's he doing…?"

Jack just shook his head and thought. Last he'd known of Sawyer, the con artist had been joining a crime boss named Eric Hawkins in Chicago who had more or less bought Sawyer's conning skills. But that had been a year and a half ago. There was no telling what the con artist was up to now. And Kate didn't know about any of that. As far as she knew, the last time she'd seen Sawyer he'd been leaving the United States to get away from Hawkins.

"What do you think they're doing? Is he working for them?"

It was the strangest thought Jack had ever had in his life. Sawyer, working for the CIA. It actually made him laugh out loud for a few moments.

The look on Kate's face told him that she didn't find the same kind of humor in it.

"Jack, this is serious. They've arrested us for no reason."

"We're going to get out of this. I promise." He said, when he'd stopped laughing, and then he squeezed her hand, "Nothing's going to happen to you, Kate. I'm not going to let it."

A wan smile teased Kate's mouth and her eyes brightened a little.

The door clattered open and Sawyer strode in, his eyebrows etching together, but he grinned when he saw them, so the momentary emotion Jack had seen was covered up. His shirt was still bloody so apparently his arm hadn't been repaired yet. The voice of Agent Muff followed him in, "You know the drill, Ford."

"Yeah, yeah, I know it, Muffy."

The door slammed shut.

He grinned at them, "Good evenin', boys and girls. Fancy runnin' into you here."

The grin only succeeded in pissing Jack off. "That does it—Sawyer, you'd better tell me what the hell is going on! What did they bring us here for? What are you doing here?"

"No can do, Jack'O; I'm just here ta' say howdy."

Furious, Jack grabbed Sawyer's collar and slammed him back against the door, "Do I have to beat the bravado right out of you?"

"Hey, easy there, Doc. Easy."

"Jack." Kate scolded. Then she looked at Sawyer, "C'mon, Sawyer, quit fooling around. Just tell us what's going on. What did they arrest us for?"

"Didn't arrest ya'. They brought ya' in 'cause you saw me send poor Emmie Hamil the way o the world."

"What was that about?" Jack finally let go of the con artists collar, but he was still angry. "Mrs. Hamil was a personal friend of my mother's."

"Was she now? My apologies, Doc," Sawyer straightened his collar out, "didn't know that. See, I mistook Mrs. Hamil for a chick named Emile Rosa, whose been running around takin' shots at me all week."

Jack shook his head, "Why would she want to kill you?"

"Can't answer that one. Next?"

"Cut the cute act! You owe us an explanation!"

"I don't owe ya' nothin', Jack."

"We're supposed to be somewhere." The Doctor snapped. "People are going to be wondering where we are!"

Sawyer looked at him tentatively, his gaze traveling slowly to the corner of his eye so he could look briefly at Kate, before focusing on Jack again, "Sorry I crashed your party." He didn't sound sorry. His tone hinted at reluctance as he asked, "What was it for anyway?"

"Nothing." Kate said.

At the same moment Jack told him, "It was our engagement party."

Sawyer just nodded, but his smile was gone.

"Are you going to let us go?" Kate asked after a moment.

The con artist wouldn't look at her, "Yeah. They can't legally hold ya'."

"I'm not leaving until I have some answers." Jack said stubbornly.

"That sounds like you." Sawyer rubbed his arm, a slight wince creasing his face.

"What about your arm? Did you get shot?"

"Yeah, gotta' go see Doctor Happy here in a second, just thought I'd pop in and…" he shrugged.

There was a moment of silence, and then Jack took a deep breath, almost not wanting the answer to his next question, "Agent Muff said…'Agent Shephard' needs to talk to me. What did he mean by that?"

"He told ya' that?"

Jack nodded.

"Ah hell. Muffy's an idiot."

"What did he mean, Sawyer?"

"Guess in that case…we'd better go."

"Go where? You haven't answered anything."

Sawyer turned and knocked on the door, "Let's get this show on the road!"

A moment later, the door swung open and Agent Muff looked in. "He ready?"

"Don't matter if he's ready—ya' went and told him. He ain't never gonna' be ready now."

Muff frowned. "All right, let's go."

With all his regular confidence, Sawyer walked out of the room, and Muff gestured for Jack to follow.

When Kate tried to come too, Muff stopped her, "Sorry, Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to stay here."

Kate looked at him, incredulous, "What?"

"Nothing personal, just protocol."

"No, no, I'm not staying here. That's my fiancé, I'm-"

"It's fine, Kate." Sawyer said, barely looking at her, "I'll take good care o' Jacky for ya'."

"I'm not staying here, Sawyer!"

"Yeah, ya' are." Sawyer shoved her back, and slammed the door. Then resumed walking.

Muff frowned at him, "Not exactly an orthodox method, Ford."

"I ain't parta' your circus, remember?"

"Why can't she come?" Jack asked, trying to stay cool as Muff escorted him down the hall.

Sawyer shrugged, "Rules."

They walked through several spic and span hallways. The place was clean, full of people wearing suits and packing heat, but Jack could tell it wasn't an official building, and because there weren't any windows, he got the feeling it was all under ground.

Twisting out of Muff's grip, Jack walked a little closer to Sawyer, "So you're working for the CIA now? Is that what this is?"

"With. I'm workin' with the CIA."

"What's the difference?"

Sawyer snorted, "Makes a lot of difference, Jack."

"Ford." Muff snapped.

The con artist glanced back over his shoulder at the other man, "Yeah, yeah, I know. Well, here we are."

They had stopped in front of a heavy, white door that was unmarked.

"Where's here?" Jack asked.

"Tell ya' what, Doc, why don't ya' just quit with the questions for a tick an' just let things play out."

"I-"

"I know, ya' ain't good at that-man with a plan, that's you-but you're gonna' wanna be pretty open-minded for what happens next, and ta' be honest, I can't answer your damn questions."

"Then take me to someone who can." Jack snapped.

"I'm about ta'."

With no further ado, Sawyer opened the door.

Inside was something straight out of a CIA drama movie. It was a large office, a little dark compared with the rest of the building, and the far wall was covered with computer screens, some showing places Jack knew and some showing places he'd never seen. One showed Kate, pacing her cell impatiently. There was a large, polished desk there, all the paperwork and office supplies on it arranged neatly. There was a large office chair turned to face the wall so Jack couldn't see who was in it.

Sawyer proceeded casually, "Got 'im, Boss."

"Good." The deep voice was so familiar that Jack didn't have to wonder who it was anymore. He knew that voice the way he knew his own. A voice that clogged his memories and his dreams, haunting him, even when it comforted him, telling him everything he didn't want to hear, everything he needed to hear.

"You don't have what it takes."

Then the chair swiveled, dashing all his uncertainty to pieces. And there was Christian Shephard, looking exactly the way Jack remembered him, a glass of scotch in one hand, and that look on his face, blue eyes seemingly cold, hair a little whiter than before. He was dressed in a suit as well, with a tie and everything.

Jack felt like he was going to pass out, and his mouth went dry, his head tilted, guts flopped. All he could do was stare. Several times he started to speak, to say 'dad', but the word wouldn't come.

"Hello, Jack." Christian got up, looking elegant with his glass of scotch.

Still Jack couldn't speak. It was too unreal.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions," Christian continued, "but first things first. Stark tells me you took some damage."

Jack started to speak again, but then realized he had no idea what his father was talking about.

"Rosa got me good." Sawyer admitted, looking at his arm again.

Christian set his glass down, and tapped the desk. "Then let's have a look at it, son."

Son…

With an uncertain glance at Jack, Sawyer pulled himself up onto the desk and slid his shirt part way down, revealing the nasty, red hole in his left bicep, and Christian began to inspect it.

"Hm. Rosa was a good shot."

"Not good enough." Sawyer muttered.

"At least she's out of the way. And this," Christian got out a pair of heavy-duty tweezers and dug his fingers into Sawyer's wound, opening it as wide as possible. The con artist winced and clutched the edge of the desk, but didn't make a sound as Christian prodded the wound, probing around for the slug. Blood dribbled from the gash, running down Sawyer's forearm.

Jack watched, unfazed, but Agent Muff made a sudden retching sound and turned away, hand over his mouth.

Sawyer smiled a pain-filled grin at him, "Don't get too excited, Dracula."

Impatiently, Jack shifted his weight, still staring at Christian Shephard, trying to find any proof that this man was a fake, because obviously it wasn't possible for him to be alive. He had seen him; he had known he was dead. He couldn't be here now. Last time he'd seen Christian had been on the island, and that had been an illusion, a hallucination. Nothing more, in spite of what John Locke had said. Christian was dead. Jack had come to terms with that a long time ago. Seeing him like this, so unquestionably alive, was very disturbing.

Christian and Sawyer continued talking softly between themselves, almost as if Jack and Muff weren't in the room.

Christian said, "Did you have a hard time breaching the hotel?"

"Naw. Rosa was easy ta' follow. Hope they weren't payin' her much—she didn't do her job too good."

"Too well." Christian corrected matter-of-factly, finally extracting the bullet, "You know you could have called for back up after she shot you."

"Didn't need no back up, Scotch."

"If she'd been a better shot you'd be dead, James."

"Good thing she was a trashy shot then." Sawyer smirked.

"You don't take this seriously enough." Christian scolded him, and there was something about his voice, something paternal and soft to the quality of it that finally made Jack snap. Maybe it was just his imagination, but he was certain that Christian had never shown so much concern for him.

It was like a really weird dream, watching Sawyer be all buddy-buddy with his dead father.

"All right," he said angrily, walking forward, "that's enough. I want answers right here, right now, starting with who the hell you are!"

"Patience, Jack." Christian said coolly, beginning to stitch up Sawyer's arm. "Everything will make sense soon."

"So start explaining! Who are you? Why did you have me brought here?"

Christian gave Jack a slighting look that washed the doctor back to childhood, when this man had seemed so omnipotent, and his words had been so poisonous. "First things first, Jack."

But he wasn't going to let that look or that voice or this imposter control him, no matter how real it all seemed. Jack slammed his fist down on the desk and shouted, "I want answers now!"

"Maybe ya' oughta' just tell 'im." Sawyer muttered.

With a sigh, Christian set aside the medical supplies and turned to his son, "What do you want to know, Jack?"

"Don't play dumb with me—who are you?"

"What do you mean? I'm your father."

"Cut the bullshit! My father died over four years ago! I ID'd him at the morgue in Sydney! It's impossible for you to be him!"

"It's not impossible, Jack." Christian replied coolly. "Yes, I admit, you ID'd my body, but did you ever see it again after it was put in that coffin?"

Jack didn't answer. He remembered the shock of finding the empty coffin on the island, and the fact that he had never found the body, even in his whole four months of living there, bothered him a lot. Even today. "I don't know what happened to my father's body," he snarled, "but that doesn't mean I'm going to believe any imposter who happens to come along!"

Christian gestured to Sawyer, "He believes I am who I say I am."

"Him? He dropped out of high school when he was fourteen! He uses words like ain't! Why should it matter to me what he believes? He's a liar anyway! He lies to people for a living! How do I know," Jack glared at Sawyer, "he's not trying to con me? How do I know he's not behind all this?"

Sawyer seemed unbothered, slid off the desk, testing his wounded arm and whistling, "That's an awful lotta' blame on just one man, Brutus."

"The point is," Jack started pacing. He was feeling angrier and angrier as the conversation wore on, "the point is there's no way you're my father! My father is dead, and whoever you are, I don't give a damn! Whether Sawyer hired you to do this, or whether he believes your story, no matter where you came from, I know one thing and just one thing—you are not, cannot possibly be my father!"

"Jack, you've got to have a little faith. I-"

"My father's dead!" Jack shouted so loud his lungs hurt a little. "He drank himself to death!"

"Tetrodotoxin." Christian said simply.

"What?"

"Tetrodotoxin. It's a poison that-"

"I know what it is!" Jack snapped, "I went to medical school!"

"I realize that, Jack—I put you through medical school."

"No," Jack shook his head fiercely; "My father put me through medical school. And I paid for most of it!"

"I don't know what it is," Sawyer piped up, "an' I'm willin' ta' bet Muffy over there don't either. So let's here it."

Christian's eyes continued boring into Jack as he spoke, so he felt like he was telling him, even though he'd just said he already knew. Whoever this man was, he certainly had Christian's personality down pat. "Tetrodotoxin, James, is the most deadly poison known to our world-easily five hundred times more potent than cyanide-derived from puffer fish. A large dose is fatal, of course, but if someone is given a dose that is not fatal, the symptoms include, but are not limited to, complete paralysis, and breathing and heart levels become imperceptible."

"Ah." For someone who'd dropped out of high school, Sawyer actually looked like he was following, and Jack had to remember that Sawyer was anything but stupid. "So ya' look dead huh? Seem dead?"

"More or less. It's extremely difficult to tell someone is alive when they've been poisoned with tetrodotoxin."

"That could come in handy for makin' folks disappear."

"As you can imagine, it's a lot more complicated than that, but I'm afraid we don't have time to discuss all of tetrodotoxin's properties and facets. If you really want to know more, you can find information later. Now-"

"Why would anyone want to do that?" Jack snapped. "What would make my father so special that they would want to make him disappear without actually dying? It doesn't add up!"

"That's a question I can't answer right now, Jack. All you need to know is that I'm alive and that I'm really your father." As if the action proved it somehow, Christian picked up his scotch and took a swig.

"I don't believe that—I have no reason to believe that! People don't just disappear for five years and then reappear!"

"Jack-"
"No! You think I'm an idiot? Is that it? You think I'm stupid? I'm just going to fall for this little ruse? I won't!"

"If you really want to push this, Kiddo, we can take a paternity test, DNA test, anything you want."

"I don't want a paternity test!" Jack started pacing, the anger in him shuddering closer and closer to the edge of hysteria, "I want out of here! I want to know why my fiancée and I have been arrested for nothing! You have no grounds to hold us here! I want my lawyer!"

"Jack-"

"I want my lawyer! Then I want a restraining order for both of you—all of you! I'll have you all arrested for this! Impersonating an officer or whatever this is!" He jabbed a finger in Sawyer's face, "Including you!"

"Doc-"

"He's got nothing to do with this." Christian said firmly.

Jack didn't like that his father-this fake father anyway-was defending Sawyer, protecting him.

"He's got everything to do with this! I want to call my lawyer!"
"I can't let you do that, Jack."

"I'm not asking permission!"

"Jack," Sawyer interrupted, "get a grip, would ya'?"

"No I will not get a grip!"

"Look, I get that this is weird, but goin' ta' hell in a hand basket ain't gonna' fix it."

"I can't believe you! You crash my engagement party, ruin my night, shoot one of my mother's friends, get me and Kate arrested, and then you have the audacity to tell me to 'get a grip'!"

"Oh, 'cause going all ta' pieces is workin' a lot better!"

"What are you even doing here? You told me I'd never see you again!"

"Well, sorry that didn't work out!"

"Why not? What are you back in LA for? And what do you want from me?"

"What do I want from ya'? I don't want nothin', Jack!"

"Right, right," Jack laughed in his face, "well excuse me for not trusting you, James, but last time you just sort of walked in on my life you weren't exactly honest!"
Sawyer was clearly getting angry now, "I saved your damn life, Doc, in case ya' forgot! If it weren't for me, ya' woulda' been fish-food a long time ago!"

"So am I supposed to believe you're here to do me some great, personal favor? How can I trust you, Sawyer? You shot someone earlier! Someone I knew!"

"Ya' didn't know her! You have no idea who she was or what she wanted!"

"James." Christian warned.

"Why don't you tell me then? Who was she and what did she want?"

Sawyer sneered at Jack and opened his mouth to say something.

"James. That's enough." Christian gave Sawyer a vindicating look, and then turned to Jack, "Listen, Son-"

"Don't call me that!"

"Jack, I realize you're upset-this is a lot to swallow all at once," he put his hands on Jack's shoulders, "but I promise, this is all going to make sense soon. You just have to trust me."

Jack pulled away, stepping back into Muff, who had drifted closer, "Trust you? Why would I trust you? If you're really my father you tricked me into believing you're dead! If you're not, then you're a stranger, pretending to be my dad!"

Christian sighed, "Well, clearly we're not getting anywhere with this. James, take Doctor Shephard and secure him until we can get a blood sample. Muff, you stay here."

Muff nodded, but Sawyer didn't move. He looked torn between saying something and doing what he was told.

Christian glared, "Ford."

"Right." Sawyer muttered, seeming to remember himself. "Let's go, Doc." He grabbed Jack's arm and started to direct him toward the door.

Jack wrenched away and Sawyer shoved him through the threshold. He thought about hitting Sawyer but the con artist had a gun, so that didn't seem wise. Besides, this place was crawling with people who-legit agents or not-were all carrying guns. As much as he hated it, Jack knew he had to ride this one out until he could figure out what was happening.

"Just keep your shirt on, Jack," Sawyer muttered when they were out of hearing range, "it's gonna' be okay."

Jack wondered how this could possibly be okay.

Sawyer took him down the hall a ways, a fair distance from Christian's office and pushed him into a small, bare room with nothing but a chair in the corner. It was as white and blank as a cell in a mental hospital.

"Just hang out here." Sawyer ordered, glancing around the room, like he was making sure it was empty, "They'll come get you later."

"What about Kate?" Jack demanded.

The con artist sighed, "Kate's fine."

"Well what about you?"

"What about me?"

"What the hell is going on, Sawyer?"

"All just part o' the plan, Jack'O." He turned to go, "Ya' better behave yourself in here."

Before he could open the door, Jack grabbed his arm, "Hey."

Sawyer gave him a reluctant look.

"What is this all about? What are they doing to get you to do this?"

"Don't know what ya' mean, Doc." Sawyer said coldly.

"I'm not an idiot. I see how they boss you around—so what are they holding over your head?"

"Nothin'." Sawyer snapped, pulling loose.

"Then what are you in this for?"

"What else?" The con artist grinned a sharky smile, "The money."

Then he was gone, leaving Jack feeling cold and confused.

*author's note: that does it for chapter two, guys. I'm going to try to put these out on a weekly basis, probably on Thursdays or thereabout, since I'll be in a Losty mood.

Also, if anyone is curious about the tetrodotoxin here are the sites I got my info from: .

_man_

And

I'm no expert of course. ^-^

=D thanks for reading!

-Suta