25 November 2032
Sawyer drew deeply on his cigarette before flicking it on to the slick concrete, watching it fizzle out as it was consumed by dirty rainwater. He wrapped his jacket tighter around his body and leaned against the wall. The wind was fierce and cold and an icy, misty rain was falling. He was early. But he couldn't have waited any longer.
The days and nights since he'd held Kate in his arms were indistinguishable from each other. Time had melted into one horrific and never ending nightmare. He didn't know how long had passed, only that every morning he faced without her was another ache in his heart, another line on his face.
The beginnings of a beard shadowed his jaw and his eyes were sunken with exhaustion. He couldn't remember the last time he'd rested, the last time he'd allowed his body a break.
He'd found out about Kate's execution the day before, or the day before that, he couldn't remember. The posters were all over town. Her face was everywhere he turned. It was to be a death by firing squad. Underneath her name was a huge list of her crimes ranging from trespassing and thievery to assault and espionage. She'd even been accused of attempting to stage a coup. Underneath the list was a small biography detailing how dangerous she was and how she lacked patriotism and compassion for her fellow citizens. Sawyer had to laugh at that one.
The execution was set for the fifth of December, and everyone was invited. The secret smiles and the slight swagger of the people vanished, and the familiar feeling of lost hope returned again like a thick fog over the slums. But when Sawyer had heard the news, he'd almost managed a smile, because it meant she was still alive.
It was a glimmer of hope and it was an opportunity. His searches of Central had brought nothing but more blood on his hands. He'd lost count of how many people he'd killed. But he never got any closer to finding Kate. He couldn't find Ben, or anyone even close to his circle. It was as if they had all vanished into thin air.
'You look tired.'
Sawyer whipped around, jolted out of his thoughts, to see Sayid approaching him from down the gloomy alleyway.
'You don't look so great yourself Ali,' Sawyer said.
And it was true. Sayid looked exhausted, his shoulders were sagging slightly as he walked and he had dark shadows under his deep set brown eyes.
'It's been a long day.' Sayid said as he stopped in front of Sawyer.
'Any news?' Sawyer asked flatly. He'd asked the question so many times, his heart refused to even hope anymore.
Sayid shook his head. 'Shall we walk?' he asked instead.
Sawyer pushed himself off the wall and the two headed up the alley leading on to Salmon Lane. The roads were quiet, it was after ten and most were inside by now. Sawyer and Sayid kept close to the shadows as they walked, speaking quietly. Both knew they could be followed. There was still a list, and their names hadn't been crossed off it yet.
'We need to plan for the fifth,' Sayid said. 'That is the only time we will know exactly where she is.'
'And in the meantime?' Sawyer said. 'I can't just sit around here twiddling my thumbs, Ali. Feel like I'm going crazy. I gotta do something.'
'You can not keep going back to Central, Sawyer. How far will your luck stretch? What good will you be to Kate if you're dead?'
Sawyer knew it was true, but he didn't want to hear it. He wanted to keep looking until he found her. He clenched his fists and stuffed them into his pockets, trying to quell the frustration that raged inside him. He saw a bar up ahead. The windows were boarded up, but a crack of light shone out from beneath the doorway.
'Let's get a drink,' Sawyer said.
He didn't wait for an answer. He walked towards the bar and pulled the door open and stepped inside. A small bell above the door rang out, signalling his entrance, and three sets of eyes turned to look at him. The room was small, and stank of sweat and stale beer. The carpet, which was probably once a deep burgundy, was almost black, and stiff with years of trodden grime. Sawyer walked up to the counter and took a bar-stool. Two old men sat further down it, ignoring him now they'd established he wasn't a threat.
Behind the bar was a short squat man with a greasy moustache wearing a filthy brown apron across his bulging belly. He looked at Sawyer, a hint of recognition in his squinting eyes. Sawyer signalled towards a liquor bottle behind him, wordlessly. He was in no mood for conversation with strangers.
As the bartender poured his drink the bell above the door rang. Sayid came through and took the empty chair beside Sawyer.
'Is this a good idea?' he asked quietly.
'It's just a drink Sayid,' Sawyer said, his voice emotionless. 'You got a problem with that? Against your religion or something?'
Sayid raised an eyebrow at him and almost smiled. 'I stopped believing a long time ago,' he said.
He nodded at the bartender to pour him a drink.
They waited for the man to walk out of ear-shot before they spoke again.
'In one week,' Sayid said. 'We will be receiving our final shipment of explosives. We will have enough to bring down the entire wall.'
'When do we plant it?' Sawyer asked, knocking back his drink, relishing the fierce burn as it travelled down his throat.
'The night before the execution,' Sayid replied, gently nursing his own drink.
'The borders will be crawling with guards.'
'You have a better plan?'
'We place them any earlier and there's a higher chance someone'll find them,' Sawyer said thoughtfully. 'We should do it on the day. There's gonna be plenty of people around, lots of confusion and distraction.'
Sayid looked deep in thought, contemplating Sawyer's words as he sunk his drink down. Sawyer waved at the bartender and within seconds their glasses had been refilled.
'It's risky,' Sayid said. 'It leaves us very little room for error.'
Sawyer nodded. 'I know that. I'll take the Blades. They won't let us down.'
'People could get hurt Sawyer.'
'Then we warn them.'
'Ok,' Sayid conceded reluctantly. 'And how will we get to Kate?'
'Leave that to me,' Sawyer said.
He thought about Kate's weapon collection and chuckled darkly, for a brief second forgetting the pain his soul was in, and the hurt is heart was feeling. He'd told her when he'd seen it she had enough to take down the whole of Central. Now he'd have a chance to prove it.
'And Sayid…?' Sawyer added, his tone full of malice. 'Linus is mine. Got a score that needs settling.'
Sayid looked at him intently before turning his attention back to his drink. He didn't say anything, instead he swirled the dark liquid around in his glass.
For the second time since Sawyer had sat down, the small bell rang out. He and Sayid turned in their chairs to see Cid, Sawyer's second-in-command, barge through the door. He entered the room and saw Sawyer and held up his hand to him, before doubling over on his hulking body, resting his hands on his knees, as he tried to catch his breath.
'Can we help you with something, Cid?' Sawyer asked dryly, raising eyebrow.
Cid stood to attention, his breathing calmer. 'I saw you come in here from the bottom of the road. Been looking all over for you boss.'
'What's wrong?' Sawyer asked quickly, his brow furrowing.
'I don't know. There's a guy…' Cid said between breaths. 'Seems kind of crazy but he says he knows you. He's telling anyone who'll listen. Been trying to find you, he says.'
Sawyer shook his head. 'Don't know him.' he said, turning back around to his drink.
Sayid looked at him in surprise. 'You haven't even seen him yet.'
'Yeah,' Sawyer muttered. 'By the sounds of it I don't want to. I don't have time for this Sayid and neither do you.'
'What was his name?' Sayid asked Cid, ignoring Sawyer.
'Says his name's Desmond.'
'Desmond?' Sawyer said, whipping back around.
'You know him?' Cid asked.
A slow and rarely seen smile crept on to Sawyer's face. 'Crazy son of a bitch,' he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. 'What the hell's he doing here?'
'You wanna ask him yourself?' Cid asked.
'What'd you do with him?'
'We're keeping him in the eastern hideout. Figured we hadn't used the place in a while.'
Sawyer nodded. 'Let's go,' he said, rising out of his chair. 'You coming?' he said turning to Sayid. Sayid smiled in agreement and threw some credits down on to the bar and they walked back out on to the cold streets.
They were already in the east sector of the slums and the hideout was just under a mile's walk away, along the stinking algae-coated canals. It was a Georgian wreck on a narrow cobblestone street. It should have been terraced, but the houses either side had long come down. The hideout looked like it was only standing because of the piles of rubble propping it up on either side.
Sawyer walked through the overgrown garden towards the heavy wooden front door and pushed it open, stepping into the tiny hallway. He heard the sound of low muffled voices coming from a room down the corridor and followed them, pushing open the next door.
The room was small and cosy. Three couches lined the walls and an oil lamp burned in the corner, coating the room in its warm orange glow. And there was Desmond. As skittish and wild-haired as Sawyer remembered. Two of Sawyer's younger recruits, dressed in the standard military blue of the Blades, had been sat on one of the sofas but stood up when he entered the room.
Desmond also stood, and took a few steps towards Sawyer. He pushed his hand through his hair awkwardly before holding it out. Sawyer took it with both hands and shook it. He looked into the other man's eyes and felt a sudden relief. He'd heard Desmond's story when he'd told it to Kate. He'd pretended to be asleep so he wouldn't have to join in the conversation, but he'd listened to every word. About Penny, and how he'd never stopped looking for her.
And suddenly Sawyer felt like he was looking into a mirror. He was looking at himself, only years later, still wrenched apart from the woman he loved, still searching. How it must have driven him mad, Sawyer thought, all those years of not-knowing. It would be like living in darkness.
'It's good to see you Desmond.' Sawyer said, his voice low and thick with checked emotion.
'Good to see you too, brother.' Desmond replied. His shoulders relaxed a little and he smiled, dropping his hand.
'You heard?' Sawyer asked.
'I heard,' Desmond replied, his watery brown eyes creasing in concern.
Sawyer nodded and walked over to one of the sofas and settled heavily into it. Desmond followed suit as Cid and Sayid walked into the room, closing the door behind them.
'What can I do?' Desmond asked, his voice low and serious.
'It's in less than a fortnight,' Sawyer said, lowering his head and looking at his hands. 'Until then, we wait, we train, we prepare. It's gonna get ugly, Desmond,' Sawyer said, looking up at him again.
'That's why I'm here,' Desmond replied.
Sawyer looked at the other man for a moment, and then he said: 'Thanks for coming.' Because it was what Kate would want him to say.
Everyone in the room looked on at the exchange with mild awe. Even Cid, who was Sawyer's closest companion among the Blades, had never seen this side of his boss before. He was vulnerable, he was nearly broken, and he was acting grateful to another human being. The transformation from the man he had been just months before was astonishing to them.
Sawyer suddenly became acutely aware of the shift in the atmosphere and he felt himself harden again. He didn't want pity, he didn't even want admiration. He just wanted it all to be over.
'You can stay here,' he said to Desmond, his tone gruff. 'I'll come see you in the morning. There's food in the cupboards and wine in the cellar.'
'Just go easy on it,' Cid said with a smile. 'It's the real deal. Vintage.'
Desmond smiled back at Cid and nodded.
'I'm too tired to eat anyway, brother,' Desmond said.
'We'll let you get some rest then.' Sawyer said, rising from the chair. He signalled at the younger Blades to leave the room, scowling darkly at them as they walked past him, punishment for having seen him at his weakest. Cid and Sayid followed, stepping through the hallway and back outside to the streets.
Sawyer nodded his goodbye to Desmond and moved to leave, when the Scotsman spoke again, his voice barely more than a whisper.
'Have hope, Sawyer,' he said.
Sawyer turned around to face him the other man. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again, not trusting himself. He shook his head and swallowed hard, trying again.
'How do you do it?' he asked, barely managing to choke the words out.
He didn't need to explain any further, Desmond knew what Sawyer was asking.
'I wake up in the morning and I keep moving,' he said. 'I keep breathing. Because I know she's alive brother, I know she's alone and that she needs me.'
'Because you love her,' Sawyer said quietly.
'Aye brother,' Desmond said, nodding sadly. 'Because I love her.'
Sawyer left the room without another word and rejoined the group. He didn't say a word to them as they walked back to the slums, eventually breaking off to go their separate ways. They agreed to meet every night between now and the fifth. Nothing could go wrong. Nothing could be left to chance. They had one shot, one last effort to change all of their lives and lift themselves from the shadows.
Sawyer went alone to Kate's flat. He'd never left, like she'd asked him to the last time he saw her. He couldn't. It was all he had left of her. He walked over to the window and sat on the sill, looking out at the city beyond, waiting. Waiting for time to pass, counting off the days until he saw her again.