Chapter 25

Military Issues

Jack watched as the two bodies were dropped unceremoniously onto the wooden deck. He felt Juliet tense behind him. She was still sitting quietly by the quay, making no move to get up. Without a second thought he stepped forward, bending down automatically to check if the two men were still alive. Both had a strong pulse; unconscious, not dead. Had they been knocked senseless or drugged? He examined them quickly, expertly checking for any injuries. One already had a bandage over the side of his head, which from the look of it had been there a while. He resisted the temptation to take a look at the wound, but by the size of the dressing he guessed he'd find stitches under there. The two men were both young, mid to late twenties, wearing military uniforms. One of them was obviously the pilot, the other was dressed in ordinary green military fatigues. He leant back on his heels and looked up to find Tom staring down at him.

'They were out cold when we found 'em,' Tom said, almost apologetically.

'Who are they?' Jack tried to pitch his voice as neutral as he could.

Tom shrugged. 'Beats me. We just found 'em in the jungle.'

'Military.' Jack said the words quietly, figuring out what the implications were.

'Looks like it. Ben ain't gonna like it one bit.' Tom shook his head ruefully and then gestured to the men hanging around the dock. They grabbed the two men roughly by their arms and began to drag them up the jetty.

Jack stood up and took a step back. 'What are you going to do with them?'

Tom looked over at him uncertainly. 'I guess we'll let Ben figure that one out. C'mon boys, let's get them inside.' Jack watched for a moment as the two men were dragged up the pier towards the houses. He'd built up some sort of rapport with Tom. Not that he trusted him, but of all The Others he'd met, Tom still seemed the most human. Excepting Juliet, of course. But he'd only gotten to know her once he'd realized that she wanted to get off this Island at least as much as he did, if not more. He looked over to where she was sitting. She hadn't moved, but now her body was laced with tension and there was fear in her eyes.

'Who are they?' he asked, watching her carefully.

'I have no idea.' He saw her compose herself, expertly sliding her emotions away. When she finally met his eyes all signs of her fear were gone. She had a way of holding her gaze just so, making the other person want to babble like an idiot to relieve the tension while she watched impassively. But Jack had never been one for babbling, and silences weren't uncomfortable for him so he returned the stare.

'Tom said Ben wouldn't like it. What does that mean?'

'It means he won't like it,' she said enigmatically, 'There's been a …' she paused, 'history with the military - before I got here. But I've heard them talk about it.'

'And what do they say?'

He saw her choosing her words again. He knew she was holding out on him. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. 'I'm sorry.' He almost cursed with frustration. Just as he thought he was making some sort of connection with her, she disappears again.

'So what'll happen to them?' he asked impatiently.

'I don't know, Jack.' That impassive stony stare again. He flicked his eyes back up the path towards the houses. His plan had been to get on that submarine and bring back help for the rest of the survivors, but that plan involved Ben Linus letting them go and then hoping all went to plan for however long it took to get back home in the submarine. These pilots could represent their best hope of rescue yet - they had to be part of a larger force with radio and satellite equipment. Ignoring Juliet, he strode after them, noting carefully where they were taken before he peeled off towards the house they'd given him. He quickly collected his medical bag and made a point of walking past the house they'd gone into, but the door was firmly shut and he couldn't hear anything. He guessed Tom would be reporting to Ben, so he clutched onto his medical bag and strode purposefully into Ben's house.

Ben was lying on his side, his back exposed to the air. 'Time for you check up.' Jack kept his voice brisk and professional, putting the bag down next to the bed before going over to the sink in the kitchen to wash his hands.

'Am I supposed to be able to move my legs yet, Jack?' Ben called out from the sitting room in a plaintive voice.

Jack came back into the room, drying his hands on a paper towel. 'No. There's too much swelling and it's pressing on the nerves. We won't know the extent of the damage until that goes down.' He bent down and gently peeled back the bandage, peering at the wound underneath. 'The good news it, it's no longer infected.'

He felt Ben's sigh of relief. 'You've done a good job, Jack.'

'Well,' he said, straightening up and reaching for a clean bandage from his bag, 'I told you I'd keep you alive.'

'And I appreciate it, Jack. I really do.' Ben's voice quivered with sincerity. 'I had them lie me this way so I could look out of the window. It's a beautiful day, isn't it?' Jack wasn't sure where this was going, but he'd realised that Ben didn't make small talk for the sake of it. He waited for him to get to the point.

'I hear the sub arrived,' he said in the same tone. OK, so they were going to talk about him leaving. Good.

'Yeah, they're unloading stuff from it now.' Jack replied. 'Another couple of days and you won't need me anymore.'

'Aren't you dying to see me walk, Jack?'

He smiled, gave a tight laugh, wondering about Ben's unfortunate choice of words. 'No Ben, I'm not. And you don't need me for that. It's just a matter of taking it slow.'

The front door slammed.

'Who is it?' cried Ben, still lying on his side with his back to the door.

'It's Tom.' Jack bent down again to examine the half healed stitches along Ben's spine. He'd done a good job on these.

'Well?' asked Ben impatiently. Jack glanced up to see Tom standing there awkwardly. He was looking curiously at Jack.

Jack ignored him, busying himself with putting some cream and a new bandage on the line of stitches. Ben hissed in pain.

'Sorry.' Jack pulled back a little. 'This might sting a little.'

'There's been an… incident.' Tom said uncertainly, moving round to where Ben could see him. He looked pointedly at Jack.

'Jack?' said Ben wearily. 'Would you excuse us?'

'Of course. I was finished here anyway.' Jack nodded to Tom and then moved back into the kitchen to wash his hands. He closed the door but stood behind it, his ear pressed up against the wood.

'Military? Where from?' it was Ben's voice.

'We don't know. We found them laid out in the jungle, they ain't come round yet.'

'And where are they now?'

'In the Club Room.'

'The Club Room? –'

'I tried to get you on the walkie, but you weren't answering...'

'I was probably asleep.' Ben's voice had a martyred edge to it. 'I suppose half the camp saw them come in?'

There was an awkward silence as Tom uncomfortably cleared his throat.

'Why didn't you wait until dark?'

'I'm sorry, I-'

'No matter. It's done. Move them to the jungle tonight, but be subtle about it, the new people are jittery enough as it is. If anyone asks, say they've been taken to the Hydra. Then find out what the hell they're doing here.'

'And if they don't talk?'

He heard Ben give another impatient sigh, 'Well, I can think of only a handful of reasons why they might be here – none of them good. So frankly it's immaterial whether they talk or not.' He sighed again. 'Put it this way, it would be nice to know.'

Jack moved quietly back to the kitchen and out through the side door. He'd heard enough. He crossed the compound, and once inside his own house he washed his hands thoroughly, then he sat down at the piano to give himself time to think. He knew there was a camera in the corner of the room and he knew he was being watched. He idly pressed on the keys, playing out a simple tune he'd learnt as a kid, letting his fingers automatically spell out the notes while he thought through what to do next.

He was smart enough to know that he had only been able to hold Ben to this agreement because Ben's life had been in immediate danger. It had been a shock to find out that Juliet had been trying to leave for three years. If that was the case then what were the real chances of Ben letting them go? He'd given himself two more days here, but it didn't look like those pilots would be around that long. He ran through the possibilities of who they might be; they could be part of a search mission to try and locate the survivors from their flight, or they could have randomly crashed here. Either way someone would come looking for them. He could understand why they were such a threat to Ben's empire. There was no way Ben's behaviour would stand up in a court of a law. The man was a criminal and he knew it. That meant that Ben had a real investment in making sure that he and Juliet remained here. And Ben would want the pilots out of the way too. Simple, really.

He got up and walked across the compound, glancing over at the Clubhouse. There was no sign of anyone, though he knew the pilots were being held inside. If there was someone guarding them, which he presumed there was, then they were inside as well. Ben was trying to keep it very low key – for the benefit of the new people - those they'd taken from the tail section of the plane. And from what he'd overheard, the new people were jittery and Ben wanted to reassure them. That, Jack realized, was his only bargaining tool. The people from the plane needed to think that Ben was a benign leader. And Jack suspected that Ben's desire to maintain that façade was the only reason he would keep his word and let him and Juliet go.

00000

A sharp pain pulled him awake. He could hear voices, muffled sounds through the buzzing in his ears. He opened his eyes then shut them again quickly. The room was spinning, at least he thought it was a room, the quick snapshot as he blinked his eyes open had revealed paint peeled walls, windows, shapes that might have been people. He tried again, squinting in light that was too bright for the throbbing pain in his head. He heard more voices, but he couldn't make out what they were saying.

It wasn't so much the pain in his arm that caught his attention, but the fact that he was handcuffed tightly to something on the floor. He was lying awkwardly on his side, his hands cuffed behind him. For the umpteenth time he thought ruefully that his father had been right. This was a trap. Desmond and Faraday had conveniently disappeared just before the Raptor had lost control and now he was being held prisoner. He tried to shift his weight a little off his trapped arm. They'd certainly chained him up good. He experimentally opened his eyes again. Gods he was thirsty. He ran his tongue over dry lips. It was hot here, even hotter trapped in his flying suit. He wondered vaguely whether the Chief had been captured too, moving his head slowly and carefully to see if he was anywhere near. He could see him handcuffed to some window bars, his arm pulled up at an awkward angle. Apollo could see the marks where the cuffs were cutting in. So far it didn't look like the intentions of their captors were anything good.

There was a guard by the door, a man wearing shabby clothes and a long, thin rifle leaning against the wall. The guard caught his eye and said something. It didn't sound like anything Apollo had ever heard before. He stared blankly back at him, watching as the guard took out a small black box and began speaking into it. Apollo glanced over at Chief Tyrol. He was awake, staring back at him. Their eyes locked in silent understanding. At least the Chief had the good sense to realize what was going on. Apollo wished now that he'd pushed him out of the damn Raptor while they were still on Galactica.

The door opened and two more men slipped quietly into the room. He flashed the Chief another look, an unspoken agreement that neither of them would give away Galactica's position. The Raptor had exploded, and as a precaution he'd wiped the flight log before they'd jumped, so the only trail back to Galactica was through them. One of the men stepped towards him and said something. It was a language Apollo had never heard before, guttural and strange. But he didn't have to understand the words to grasp exactly what was going on with the man's body language. Apollo met his eyes as directly as he could and braced himself. The blow when it came wasn't so bad. Not as bad has his father's right hook when they were sparring. Apollo shut his eyes and imagined it was just another work out, he and his father, gloves on, the blows nothing more than his fathers' killer punches.

The beating stopped almost before it had begun. Unless they had more up their sleeve this was the most pitiful interrogation that he'd ever been on the receiving end of. He opened his eyes. The one in charge was big and looked older than the others – as if he was around 50 or so. Not that age meant anything to Cylons. He watched anxiously as they moved towards Chief Tyrol. Apollo winced as they caught the side of the Chief's head and the bullet wound he'd picked up on Kobol. He tried not to react. It wouldn't help the Chief any if they used him to make Apollo talk. Neither of them said anything. They both kept to the protocol. They knew that silence was their most potent defense in this sort of interrogation. The Chief was chained at an awkward angle, his arm forced up to the window grate. He couldn't absorb the blows as easily in that position. Apollo cursed himself again for ever letting him come along.

The older man said something and the two others stood back as he pulled out some rags from his pocket and stepped forward, forcing the cloth into his mouth before tying it tightly behind his head. The cloth tasted foul and he resisted the urge to gag. Vomiting wasn't going to help him any. Instead he took two deep breaths and watched as the Cylon gagged the chief and then stepped back. Apollo met his gaze, glaring at him defiantly. The bigger one turned to the others with him, said something else and then left, leaving the guard to take up his position by the door. Apollo glanced across at the Chief. His eyes were shut and Apollo could see that the cut was bleeding freely now. He must have sensed Apollo watching him because he opened his eyes and nodded once, letting him know that he was OK.

00000

Jack sat quietly on his veranda playing cards, waiting for Tom to come out of the Clubhouse. He'd spent the last three hours wandering around the compound, keeping an anxious eye on the Clubroom. He'd pretended to be just hanging out, speaking quietly to one or two of the people he found there and trying to look as innocent as possible.

Finally he'd watched as Tom and another man had walked quickly up to the Clubhouse door and gone inside. Jack had waited on the veranda of his house idly playing a game of cards. Sure they'd been quiet about it, and sure they didn't stay long, but when they finally emerged from the Clubhouse he saw the man with Tom flexing his right hand as he passed them and Jack could see traces of blood on his knuckles. Something in him snapped. In less than a minute he was at Ben's house.

As he stepped through the door he could hear Tom giving his report.

'Didn't say a word, nope, got nothing out of them…' he stopped as he saw Jack.

'Who are the two men locked in the Clubhouse?' Jack demanded without any preamble.

Ben gave an exaggerated sigh. 'Really, Jack, this is none of your-'

'Who are they?' he raised his voice now.

Ben turned his head and winced, 'We don't know, Jack. They won't tell us.'

'And what are you going to do with them?'

'Again, Jack, none of your business.'

'I want to see them,' he said suddenly, 'I'm a doctor and I want to see them.'

'Do you want to get off this Island or not?' Ben flashed angrily.

Jack gave a cynical half laugh, 'I'm going to see them, examine them and then I am going to get on that sub and leave this Island. Or do you want me to tell everyone in this compound that the military have come to rescue them but you are hiding them away?'

There was a pause. He could practically see Ben's mind whirring through the implications. Jack was counting on the fact that the other survivors from flight 815 weren't quite the docile 'Others that Ben was claiming. He was quite sure that Ben had given them some lie about why they couldn't just leave the Island right now and go back to their lives. He waited as Ben fluttered his eyelids in a sort of mock exasperation.

'OK Jack. You can examine them.' Ben spoke slowly, enunciating each word as if he was talking to a child, 'But if you try anything, or say anything, you won't be going anywhere on that sub and the deal is off.'

With an effort Jack unclenched his jaw and nodded. Ben waved at Tom, who clicked on his walkie.

'Bill? Yeah. The Doc's coming across to check the prisoners. Yeah. I'm with Ben. Yeah. OK.'

Tom clicked off the walkie and looked at Jack with an appreciative half smile.