Chapter Nine

"Have you thought of just asking for the guns?"

They had already covered a mile in three directions from the spot where Charlie had said Sawyer first stored the guns. How far could Sawyer have taken such a weighty mass, by himself, under cover of night? Yet Sayid had noticed no tracks. Of course, any tracks would have been disturbed by this time. He now understood more clearly the English proverb about searching for a needle in a haystack. But then again, he hadn't really hoped to find the guns. He hadn't thought about the prospect at all. He had simply needed to act.

The pair was sitting and leaning against a fallen tree, drinking water and eating fruit to rejuvenate themselves. Sayid answered Ana, "Yes."

"And…?"

"And I asked. And he said no, even when I explained that we wanted them to pursue the Others and rescue the children."

"Of course he said no to you," Ana replied, taking a violent bite from her…what was it? She had never had this fruit at home. It filled the belly, anyway. She finished chewing and swallowing and continued, "As he would say to me. But what if we persuaded Kate to ask him?"

Sayid screwed the top back onto his bottle and replaced it in his pack. Had Ana observed Kate's concern for Sawyer? Of course she must have; she had been a law enforcement officer, and she must be inclined to notice people. But did Sawyer feel the same concern for Kate, or was she merely a target for his machinations?

"And which of us do you think should attempt to persuade her?" he asked. "I fear she has begun to despise me, and I do not think she has ever been particularly fond of you."

"But she's fond of Jack."

Sayid nodded slowly. The woman was brusque and belligerent, but her mind worked, and a perceptive mind never failed to impress him. "And Jack is fond of you." He glanced surreptitiously at her and saw one side of her lips arch. It was a wry smile, but not a bitter one, and there was something surprisingly feminine about it.

Now Ana nodded. "I'll see what I can do," she promised him. "I think we both know there's no point in searching anymore for the guns."

"I need you to do something else for me, which also involves Jack."

"Yeah? And what's that?"

Sayid looked at his hands, now cleansed from Sawyer's blood. "I need more time alone with Henry Gale."

Ana raised her eyebrows. "I'm not supposed to know about him. None of us are. But we all do."

Locke and Jack were laboring to keep their secret; Sayid had done nothing to expose it. Yet somehow the winds of rumour had cut through the silence. No one knew exactly who the man in the hatch was—only that his identity was uncertain, that he was possibly dangerous, and that Sayid had already done something questionable to him.

"And like I said before," continued Ana, "I've seen the way Jack and even Locke…and now some of the others…look at you. I know what it's like to be despised for doing what you gotta do, but …" She thought of the way he had scrubbed at that picture; she thought of what he had said without saying it, and of what she had replied. And she contemplated the blood of revenge that sullied her own hands. It was blood she felt impotent to wash away, yet it was also a stain she had learned to live with, if one could call what she did living. "…But are you sure you want to…to do that?"

His voice was low and defensive, his words measured: "What do you think I intend to do?"

"You tell me."

"I am merely going to ask him questions." He had extracted nothing from Gale with the beating, and if the man was indeed an Other—as Sayid sincerely believed he was—then he was not likely to crack under the threat of violence. Whatever these people were, they were ruthless in their pursuit of their mysterious objectives, and they would likely be ruthless to themselves. Gale would die before he let the truth be beaten out of him, but if only Sayid could coerce some small part of it before Gale observed what the interrogator was doing …

The Iraqi saw that Ana's face was doubtful. "I give my word," he said, as though that should be enough. And, as a matter of fact, it was.

Ana shrugged. "I'll try to get Jack out of the hatch. If I can get him to go to Kate to persuade Kate to go to Sawyer…but Locke isn't going to leave the hatch too. You'll still have to get past Locke."

"I will handle Locke."

Ana tossed the pit of her fruit carelessly behind herself. "Let's do this then," she said and rose. Something in her authoritative and aggressive tone struck Sayid as comical, and he had to force himself not to laugh as he, too, rose and prepared to return to camp. They would not "do this" until the morning anyway, he thought, for they had been in search of the guns all day, and the night was fast approaching.