Eloise Hawking's private airport was pretty much empty except for a few technicians and mechanics that greeted Jack as he walked through the open garage. He walked across the concrete flooring, his boots making a tapping noise as he made his way to the other end, which was wide open, the sun shining through. Once there, he couldn't dare miss the plane that towered over its landing. The plane was large, modern, long and sleek, glistening in the sunlight. It could seat about thirty people by his estimation. He was no expert on aircraft, but this was no frilly bucket that would break if the wind blew East instead of West.
He spotted Frank at the edge of the stairs that led to the inside, talking to someone in a very friendly manner. An old buddy, Jack presumed. He was bound to know a lot of people if he worked here for as long as Faraday told him he had. He looked better, still very hairy and unkempt, but sober and awake, which was more important.
"Jack!" Frank noticed him as he continued to drink in the plane's scale. He was closing in with his hand outstretched.
"Hey, Frank." Jack greeted him, walking up to meet him with a light smile, shaking the man's hand.
"How ya doin'?" Frank asked.
"Didn't sleep a peep last night, but besides that, pretty good." Jack admitted, nervously. "You?"
"I gotta tell ya, it feels good to be back. It's like I never left." Frank sighed as he followed Jack's eyes back to the plane. He turned back to him, a playful tone mingled with seriousness. "You're still crazy as hell for doin' this."
"So I've been told." Jack nodded with a smile, still staring at the monstrosity before him. "So this is the plane we're flying back in?"
"Yep. Private jet, seats about twenty-five. Top of the line. Flies like a dream." Frank said confidently, grinning up at the plane like a kid in a candy store. "She's beautiful isn't she?"
If Jack didn't know any better, he could actually hear adoration in Frank's voice, mixed with starry-eyed wonder and dangerous infatuation. He loved planes, he loved being a pilot. There was no denying it now. It opened him up in ways that were true and real. He loved this plane, flying almost as much as his Yankees, which was saying a whole lot.
Frank finally came down from his fascination long enough to notice that someone was missing from the moment. "Where's Dan? Didn't he say he'd be here?"
"Yeah, he did, but just in case, he wrote down everything you need to know to get me back. Let me grab it." Jack pulled the pack from his shoulder and started to unzip pockets. He bent down on one knee while he searched.
"Hey Frank." One of the mechanics called out from nearby. "We need you."
Frank departed as Jack continued to rummage through his backpack. He came across the letter he'd written for Claire last night, which was the one of the many causes of his sleeplessness. What was he supposed to say to her when he saw her again? How could he put into words that they were siblings, that after all this time, they were family and always would be? It was the coward's way out, to give her a letter, to have her read something like this instead of being sat down and told face to face, he just didn't know how to do that, and when it was all said and done, he wasn't sure he would have the time to explain everything. He guessed that was what happened with his father and the letter he'd left behind. Between the hurt feelings, the misunderstandings and his disappearance to Australia, there wasn't time to really talk. Now there never would be.
Taking his attention from Claire's letter, Jack dug his hand into a different pocket and finally pulled out the folded piece of paper that was covered in Faraday's handwriting. Upon opening it, another folded sheet fell to the ground at Jack's feet. Curious, he picked it up and opened it. The grainy printout of Kate's mugshot was old, tattered, the paper it was printed on falling apart. He was in deeper than he ever thought possible as he felt the slug to his chest at the sight of her face, blank of any human emotion, but he remembered its animation in any situation, each and every contortion of her freckled features was irreversibly etched into his memory.
The anticipation of seeing her again drove him in ways he never thought possible, comprehendible. How did he still have her mugshot? He distinctly remembered handing it back to her before departing for the caves, after he'd been caught staring at it just as he was now, by the subject herself, with a huge lump in his throat, curiosity in his eyes, and baffled entanglement at her many contradictions. All behind this small, mighty woman, who wouldn't stop moving long enough to see him right in front of her. He should have asked in more direct terms that she go with him, but she was too unbridled for that, too singular for the sheltered security that he wanted to provide. More than anything, he wanted her to come to him, to surprise him at the cave's opening, with her things in tow, and be willing to learn more about and understand what the hell was going on between the two of them, so quickly and so suddenly. It was a dream that had long since died.
She wanted off the Island as soon as humanly possible, more so than he and many of the others. Anything that was moving away from it, she wanted on it, would sign any bad deed to get it done. She was always going her own way. Who was he to ask her not to?
Who knew which direction the wind would blow her in once they returned to civilization. Would she run? Would she believe in the second chance she deserved? He still wanted to know, he still cared. He always would. A million more questions ran through his mind. Did she think about him even half as much as he thought about her? Did she feel the ache of their separation as much as he did? Did she miss him? At all, even a little bit? There was still the mystery of what he saw when he closed his eyes on more than one occasion, always something to do with her and her alone. What was that about?
Damn was he a glutton for punishment. Kate was most assuredly fine without him, he presumed, while he found his sanity unraveling without her, around her, enveloped so much more than he wanted to be, especially now that she was devoted to someone else. So much for cutting his losses.
"Who's the girl?" Frank's baritone blasted, making Jack jump slightly. He quickly folded the piece of paper and stuffed it back into the pocket he found it in as he stood.
"She's nobody." His voice came out raspy as he cleared the lump choking him.
Frank's burly eyebrows went reaching for the sky in doubt. Bullshit, he thought as he smirked at him. "Nobody huh?"
"Here's what Dan gave me after we left your bar yesterday." Jack changed the subject, unfolding the paper he sought and handing it to him. "I have no idea what it means, but he told me that you have to follow it very carefully, or the consequences—"
"Yeah, yeah. Nothing I haven't heard before." Frank said, studying the numbers and words on the piece of paper, outlined fairly neatly in Faraday's handwriting. "If I don't follow those coordinates down to the very number, we're both screwed."
"Make that the three of us." A feminine voice spoke up from behind them. Jack and Frank turned to it. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, a pair of jeans fit to her long legs and a modest t-shirt clung to her. The sling-bag she wore over one shoulder completed the dressed-down, adventurous look.
"Juliet? What are you—What—?" Jack sputtered.
"Nice to see you too, Jack." Juliet smiled, walking up to him.
Frank nodded to her in greeting and excused himself with Faraday's instructions in hand, allowing them some time alone.
Jack finally caught his bearings, smiling. "What are you doing here? How do you know about this?"
"Your friend Dan. He came to see me a couple of days ago. Told me about the people that were following us, and that he has a way of helping you get back to the Island."
Jack shook his head. "He shouldn't have involved you."
"He didn't involve me, Jack. I literally had to pry the information out of him." She smiled, shrugging lightly. "Wasn't too hard."
"You were right, about everything." He admitted, his eyes round with regret for brushing off her warnings. "Ben is up to something and it somehow involves me staying away from the Island."
"You think he was watching you to keep you away?" She asked.
"What other reason could there possibly be?" He said, bringing his hands to his waist, holding there in a stance that only meant he was thinking about something. He looked over her shoulder, his eyes darting back and forth. "I keep going back to that conversation on the docks, before we left."
"What about it?" She asked.
Jack turned, his stiff brows shadowing his eyes from sunlight, but she could still see the resolve in them. "Ben was taunting Locke, like he'd gotten something over on him."
"Yeah, I'd say. He gave you a way off the Island, which was exactly what Locke didn't want. He caught him in the act of trying to stop you." Juliet pointed out, like it was the most obvious explanation in the world.
"No, it was more to it than that. They hate each other, that much is obvious, but it felt like," Jack trapped his bottom-lip between his teeth before he spoke again, "like something bigger was at stake."
"Do you think Locke knows what that is?" Juliet asked.
"I don't know." Jack said, frustrated with himself for having all these uncertain thoughts. "Locke was right about Ben. It makes me wonder what else he was right about." Their eyes locked tightly, and Juliet could see that this had turned from an already complicated rescue mission into something more, way more than Jack ever bargained for, but was somehow right in the middle of.
"You're not just going back for your friends. You're going back to figure out if you were really brought there for a reason." Juliet concluded. He neither confirmed nor denied her statement; he just stared at her blankly, waiting for her to read him the Riot Act again, but she didn't. She simply nodded her understanding.
"There's an explanation for why I feel so drawn to it. I know there is. I need to figure all of that out before I can move on." Jack explained.
"All the more reason for me to go with you, make sure you're taking care of yourself. You tend to neglect that when you're otherwise preoccupied." She commented.
"Juliet, it's too dangerous." He argued.
"You're gonna need help getting your people off that beach, Jack." She shot back.
"I can get it done by myself." He reasoned.
"I'm not asking for your permission." Her voice was thick with resolution on the subject. He knew that she wasn't going to back down, so there was no point in trying to persuade her to do so. He donned an amused smile, one she returned with ease.
"Can I ask you a question?" Jack asked.
"Sure."
"The other night, when you stopped by, a big chunk of it is missing for me. I woke up to a clean apartment and a note, saying that you were gonna keep your distance—" Jack began.
"About that, Jack. I'm really sorry that I couldn't stay and explain, but I felt like you needed your space and that I wasn't respecting that." Juliet explained rather hurriedly, but for some reason, Jack wasn't buying her excuse.
"Are you sure that's all it was?" He pushed. "Because I feel like something happened between us when I woke up the next morning, but I can't really remember what that was." Her cheeks began to burn in embarrassment as she diverted eye contact. Now he knew something happened, something he wouldn't easily let down, something he might have caused.
"Please tell me." Jack urged softly, not wanting to make her feel any more uncomfortable than she already did.
Her beautiful blue eyes mingled with his, and three words rushed out with the tide of her untamed emotions.
"You kissed me."
Richard had set out at first light, which was hours ago, leaving Tom in charge of the camp while he was gone. He led himself on the path to Jacob's quarters, this voice still ringing in the back of his head, urging him to stop and turn around. Something wasn't right about this. Something wasn't right about Ben asking him to do this, but he was never in a position to ask questions. He himself was just as curious about Jacob's lack of communication as Ben had been, and he would try to trust him, about all of it, about Jacob, Locke, and the Island itself.
Stepping into a side of the jungle that was drowned in more sunlight than the shaded path he travelled, his eyes widened at the sight before him.
The Black Rock was this massive, unavoidable eyesore that sat in the very hub of the Island's ethereal beauty. Overgrown by the jungle and cracked with age and neglect, the trade ship still stuck out like a sore thumb. He hadn't seen it in decades, and the lump in his throat told him that this ship would always evoke emotions that he couldn't run far enough from. It was what brought him here in the first place, in chains and cuffs, a prisoner of a fate he lost the ability to decide for himself. He stepped up slowly, hesitantly to the ship's rudder and placed his palm over it, his hand shaking as it landed. The rotting wood felt coarse and hot against his skin. It has been so long for him here, this ship a constant in the sea of changes that he and the Island have gone through since it wrecked here.
Suddenly, he heard creaking nearby, footsteps. The noises grew closer and closer. Someone was within the belly of the ship, he realized. Curious, Richard slowly walked over to the cabin's entrance, the tall grass rustling as he moved through it. For a split second, he felt like he was in danger, like whatever was in there would pounce, but what he didn't expect was to see a man step out from the darkness into the sunlight, his bald, gritty appearance unmistakable.
Richard stood motionless, staring. "John?"
Locke saw him out of the corner of his eye before he spoke his name, but never looked his way or made him aware that he was alerted of his presence. He turned with a grin, angling his pack's strap more securely over his shoulder.
"Hello Richard." It was just as pleasant and non-assuming as Locke knew how to be, but Richard wasn't so easily swayed.
Richard stepped up to him, meeting him in the small clearing outside of the opening. He looked between the ship and Locke, his antennas going up instantly. "What are you doing out here?"
Locke looked at him through the squint of his eyes, the sun still unrelenting this time of day. "I was just passing through when I thought I should take a look inside, see if anything was salvageable."
"I think the only thing worth it is the dynamite, John." Richard retorted with obvious suspicion. "What are you trying to blow up this time?"
Locke grinned in reply, letting the distrustful dig, beaded with sarcasm, roll down his back. "What are you doing out here? Ben need you to fetch a pale of water?"
"I'm not out here for Ben." Richard lied, irritated by Locke's lack of compliance.
"What? You two break up?" Locke joked.
"We set you free weeks ago, and yet you're still out here in the jungle, all by yourself, just like you were that night on the dock." Richard pointed out. "What are you up to?"
Locke shrugged his shoulders, deciding that a little honesty would serve him well at this point. "I'm on a walkabout."
Richard didn't know whether or not to believe him. "A 'walkabout'? Never heard of it."
"It was the reason why I was on the plane in the first place. It's something I've always wanted to do, but never had the time for."Locke explained. Richard still had this confused look on his face, so he elaborated.
"A walkabout is a journey of spiritual renewal Richard, where one derives strength from the earth, and becomes inseparable from it."
"Why don't I believe that?" Richard asked.
"Why don't I believe that you're not on assignment for Ben?" Locke asked. Richard looked away with the shake of his head and the roll of his eyes. An annoyed, reserved, breathy laugh escaped him, but Locke wasn't buying the indignant response.
He stepped in closer, his eyes sparkling and his voice dipping into a dangerous register. "What does he need you to do, Richard?"
There was that eerie obligatory feeling again, the feeling that he could tell Locke this information, that it was okay to trust him, and most pressing of all, that he had to. The trance only lasted for a few seconds, when Richard was reminded of the decision he made a long time ago, that what he and Ben discussed in private would stay that way. Not to mention the decision he just made about a minute ago, to trust Ben in his decisions regarding the very man asking the question.
"What makes you think he needs me to do anything?" Richard asked, his poker face set deep within his chiseled features.
"I've been out here for weeks, and never once have I seen you. Granted there's a lot of ground that I still haven't covered, but we all know this Island gets smaller and smaller, can't go any one way without hitting the ocean." Locke said. "Not to mention, you're alone, just like you were the night I saw you approaching the compound, the night Jack left the Island."
The kink in Richard's stoic features told Locke that he'd hit a nerve. Locke sneered at the slip in composure. "What a coincidence."
"Is this your way of trying to rattle me, John?" Richard asked, annoyed and affronted.
"No, no. Of course not." Locke shook his head, satisfied. "This is me trying to enlighten you about your friend Ben. Despite his confidence that all his secrets are safe and locked away from prying eyes, some secrets just won't stay hidden."
Alarm rang in Richard's ears and bled through his eyes. What did Locke know? His entire body tensed and he felt like he couldn't breathe. "What are you talking about?"
"Wouldn't you like to know." Locke toyed with him, walking around him towards the treeline, until he felt Richard's hand wrapped around his upper arm, stopping him in his tracks. It was the most aggressive and pent-up Locke had ever seen him, which told him all he needed to know.
"Don't play games with me, John." Richard threatened through a shaky breath. "If you know what Ben is hiding, you need to tell me." Judging from the look in Locke's eyes, if he hadn't pulled his hand away when he did, he would have more to worry about than Benjamin Linus' duplicitous schemes.
"You know, the fact that you're so quick to believe that Ben is hiding anything or that I would know about it, means that you have some suspicions of your own. Am I right?" Locke pointed out, leaving Richard with no proper defense. He fell for the trap and now Locke knew that he didn't trust Ben as much as he wanted everyone to believe.
"He's out to destroy everything that Jacob holds dear, John, and at the top of that list is the Island."
Locke could hear it echoing through his memory. There was no trusting Ben, with the Island, with anything. He wanted to watch it burn, he wanted nothing more than that. That was the only thing that mattered, and the one thing Richard needed to know most of all, but showing his hand would only cause more havoc. It would get back to Ben somehow that he knew about Jacob, Jack, the Temple and the plot against the Island and he would rather keep that to himself than risk the Island any more than Ben already has. It was only a matter of time before it all came to a head and Locke wanted to be right there when it did.
Richard wasn't going to do this. It was a waste of time to go back and forth, it was beneath his purpose and his role. He was sick of being the referee between these two men, both of whom too stubborn and proud to compromise, too distrustful of the other to give him a chance. In spite of his own thoughts and suspicions, he would stick with Ben, he would stick with the Island until he had the evidence that convinced him otherwise. Locke would just have to give it up, but he knew that he never really would.
"There's nothing here for you, John." Richard retorted, backing off. He knew that wasn't true, that there was something out there for Locke, much more than he wanted to admit to him. It was too dangerous to explore that now. It was too much to deal with on top of Jacob's untimely absence and Ben's continued disapproval of Locke having anything to do with the Island. "I highly suggest that you come to grips with that and stay out of the way."
Richard turned his back, intent to pick up his trail, but Locke wouldn't let him.
"That wasn't an answer." He barked in anger.
Richard whipped around, his temper boiling. "Well, it's the only answer I've got, so you should take it while you still can."
Determined to get his point across, Richard stood toe-to-toe with Locke yet again. "Don't you get it? Ben is just waiting with bated breath to get you in his hooks again and you're out here wide open for the kill. He thinks that you are a major threat to this Island and guess what, John? I defended you. I told him that he was blinded by his hatred for you, but maybe he's right."
"You don't believe that." Locke said with a confidence that he had to pretend.
"Did you know that he has people posted in my camp, just waiting for you to show up?" Richard informed him.
"I suspected as much, but they're wasting their time." Locke defended himself. He knew the new policy Ben had enacted for his security, which was why he couldn't even step a toe onto the compound. There were too many guards now, their borders were too fortified for him not to get caught again. "I have no intention of invading your camp or anyone else's. I told you, I'm on a walkabout."
"You're lying." Richard was certain of it.
"No, Ben is lying, and whatever he told you, whatever he's got you out here doing is a part of his master plan. I don't have any proof of what he's done or what he's going to do, but I know that he is up to something and so do you. You just don't want to believe it."
"John, let me ask you something. Why do you think Ben decided to let you go? It certainly wasn't to make his life easier. You're so adamant about believing that there's some diabolical scheme in play, when really, Ben showed you mercy and nothing more."
"Ben used me to play up some good-guy image, for you and his people and you know it." Locke argued.
"Oh is that right?" Richard snapped back.
"Yeah, that's right." Locke told him. "While you're in the mood to question me, let me ask you a question. When Ben said that he would show me the Island, everything, did you for one second believe that he really would or was he trying to play me, again?"
Richard looked stumped, busted. He knew for a fact that Ben was using the offer as a ploy to control Locke, not to give him any insight into the Island. He didn't agree with it, but did nothing to stop it. Locke read the defeat in Richard's eyes, feasting on it as he stood corrected.
"So much for Ben and his mercy." He said, looking at Richard with an accusatory glare.
"You know what? Believe about Ben what you want, okay? Goodbye John." Richard began to walk away, beating the path he'd taken from the other side of the ship when he heard Locke speak up again, far louder than before.
"One day Richard, one day very soon, you're gonna wish you'd paid more attention, but by then," Richard turned to catch the look in Locke's eyes, "it'll be too late."
Locke could tell that the warning gave Richard something to think about as he hesitated to move, but slowly turned back to his path, pressing forward. Locke stood right where he was for a few seconds more, watching Richard move on, before stepping away himself, disappearing into the wide space, planting the seeds of doubt with relative ease.
A figure behind a crowd of shadowy vines revealed itself. The mysterious presence heard the entire conversation between Richard and Locke, and stood right at the juncture of their opposite paths, grappling with the decision of which to follow.
"I did?" Jack asked, incredibly embarrassed and disgusted with himself for taking advantage of Juliet's kindness.
"Yeah, you did," Juliet admitted, watching as Jack brought a hand over his face, rubbing his forehead. This was the moment she desperately wanted to avoid, watching him beat himself up over a simple kiss, but he wouldn't let her. He just had to know, he would always have to know.
"And I kissed you back," Juliet added, hoping to take some of the heat away from him and put it on herself, "but when you pulled away, I could tell that you were searching for a feeling that just wasn't there."
He could hear the hurt feelings in her voice, and could see the sadness in her eyes, sadness she tried to hide. "Juliet, I am so sorry."
"It's ok—" Juliet began, but Jack was too upset, shutting her down before she could make this easier for him.
"No, it's not. You were just trying to help me and I took advantage of you." Jack confessed, recovering broken pieces of that night and how lowly and alone he felt, reaching for the next able body to cling to. That was no way to treat someone who had been there for him through a very rough time.
"I'm pretty sure we took advantage of each other." Juliet laughed, shrugging her shoulders.
"Oh yeah?" Jack said, laughing lightly. "How so?"
"Come on. Like you didn't already know. I always wondered what it would be like to kiss you." The blushing of her cheeks grew deeper. "It was nice, you being drunk and all. Besides, we're better as friends. I know that now."
After a beat, Jack spoke up, hope in his heart that her answer was as kind as all the rest. "Does that mean you accept my apology?"
Juliet nodded and laughed, her hand falling comfortably over Jack's shoulder. "Yes. It does."
The moment was broken by the roar of the turbine engine of the jet, its propellers coming to life, whirling, the high-pitched whine drowning out all other sound. A man donning sound-suppressors over his ears approached both Jack and Juliet, yelling over the noise.
"Dr. Shephard, Dr. Burke, we're ready for takeoff!" He informed them before running back to the garage.
Jack turned to her, his voice loud. "You sure about this?"
"Absolutely." She yelled back.
The moment he'd been waiting for was just on the horizon as he and Juliet walked towards the stairs that led to the inside of the plane. She was the first to board, Jack following closely behind her, taking this moment in for all the pain it took and the leap of faith he had to take to trust Faraday and his mother, strangers, with something as important as this. He walked up the steps and before his foot stepped inside the plane's cabin, he heard his name from behind him.
"Jack!"
Jack turned, watching as Faraday ran to the plane from below. He met him at the end of the stairs. "You made it." He shouted.
"Barely." Dan bellowed in retort. "I was up all night thinking about what you said about the hatch, how it blew, which prompted me to look more closely at my research, what led me to the Island in the first place. Remember when I told you my readings of the electromagnetic radiation were off the charts right before the Smoke Monster attacked?"
"Yeah. What about it?" Jack asked.
"Jack, I think the Smoke Monster is a life-form of it somehow, and it only grows more powerful, especially now that the Island's electromagnetic properties are highly erratic, as unstable as they've ever been, and I think this began with the hatch's implosion. If this continues, the consequences are disastrous for your friends, and ultimately, for the entire world."
Jack could feel his heart racing, profoundly troubled by what Faraday was telling him, but trying his best to follow the details. Faraday wouldn't tell him this unless there was something that could be done about it. "What do we do about it?"
Faraday handed him a moderately-sized remote-like object. It had the appearance of a sat-phone, but looked much more complicated than that. Before Jack could ask what the mysterious gadget was, he elaborated. "It's an Electromagnetic Pulse Device, ELMA for short. Jack, it's very important that you not let this device fall into the wrong hands."
Jack looked at it before turning back to Faraday. "I don't understand. What am I supposed to do with this?"
"You need to detonate it by pressing this red button." Faraday pointed to the button he was referring to. He took a breath before he yelled the last part. "It'll disintegrate the Smoke Monster, and hopefully eradicate the instability. But you can only detonate it once, so be very careful with your timing, Jack. We've only got one shot at this."
There was so much that could go wrong with this plan, Jack thought, his mind racing, the throttle of the plane's engine steadily dampening their voices. "What if this doesn't work?"
"Trust me, it will." Faraday reassured him. "It has to."
Jack, once again, looked between Faraday and the device that weighed in his hand. "Any other possible global catastrophe you want to leave in my care?"
Faraday was thankful for the humor, because he panicked for them, for all of them. Yet he knew if there was any one person who could pull this off, it was Jack Shephard. "This'll do for now, but thanks for the offer."
A meaningful look passed between them, one of sorrow, but acknowledgement. This was it. Faraday extended his hand and it didn't take long for Jack to take it, shaking it with vibes of friendship and genuine gratitude.
"Good luck Jack."