Red In The Morning
By Sinking815
August 21, 2006

A/N: Well today, I was introduced to something writers meet when developing a story that depends on continuity. That something is almost as high on the list of things that makes a dent in update time as Writer's Block; it is known as the Plot Hole. So after realizing that I had a little teeny weensy problem with where I was taking this story, I found a way to fix said problem. Good news for you all, this story has now been extended by about ten more chapters. Bad news for me (and maybe some of you because this might mean longer waits between posts), school starts Wednesday! AHHHHH! But never mind all that, and as always please read and review.

Chapter 21: Plan B

Frustration was not something he had a lot of experience dealing with. There was always a fallback plan, a way to simply iron out the wrinkles despite the odd and sometimes critical times they decided to appear. The hot metal seemed to never be out of reach when his brain needed to smooth over a complication. But this wrinkle was different, was more stubborn, was more than just a speed bump.

He sat, cross-legged, his elbows planted into the sides of his knees, his hands folded just in front of his chest. The flames of the infant campfire flickered in the cool morning breeze as he stared, not really seeing them bend and twist in their dance. He was too focused on trying to connect the dots between behavior and motives that seemed to be drawing in a picture that resembled little more than a few scribbles on paper. Like a chess player who realizes that the trap he had been setting up for the opponent's collapse now left him open and vulnerable, Henry forced himself to backtrack and check his premises.

He felt like he was searching through the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, trying desperately to find the one edge piece that had somehow eluded his first sorting. The piece that once found and put in its rightful place made the picture that he was dealing with that much more understandable. The piece that gave the situation definition and structure.

He was remembering back to that first day in the hatch armory when he had been trapped and helpless with only their muffled voices to listen to. As he remembered back, the voices he could make out did nothing to help him find that missing piece. The harder he tried to remember, the more he realized the person he had been trying to detect in his memories seemed to be the one most conspicuously missing.

The edges of his mouth curled into a slight frown as he felt himself once again staring face to face at the cage that held the iron he needed to get to. Maybe this was not the way to be looking at this particular situation. Maybe understanding her intentions was not what he needed to be doing.

But it wasn't that he didn't understand her decision. In fact, he had to give her credit; she had found a hole in his plan and had used that to lessen his advantage. She had effectively eliminated their strongest way of blackmailing her and now she was free to be as defiant as she wished and there was nothing that anyone could do that would stop her from making their lives difficult.

So if he couldn't control her, what if he turned the tables on her own situation? His eyebrows rose sharply as he watched the bars of the cage start to fall out of place, the hole to the iron widening with every passing minute. What if he decided he wasn't willing to let the person she had released go? No, he thought, Jack Shephard wasn't ready to leave them just yet.

He blinked, the frown on his face now replaced with a hopeful smirk, his eyes falling on Bea's still form. She was staring at him, as if she knew that her patience would eventually coax his secret out of him.

"I think I've found a solution to our problem," he said.

She nodded and asked, "And what might that be?"

"We're going to keep him," Henry said, his eyes smiling for him. He leaned forward conspiratorially, his weight shifting from his seat to his elbows and fixed her with an intent stare. "Here's what you need to do."

The afternoon sun was scorching on his skin and for the first time since he had crashed on this island, Jack found himself suddenly wishing for a tube of sun block. He ducked his head and squinted against the blinding white glare, letting himself be led away from the cool interior of the hut by Tom's guiding hands. After a few feet of staring at his boots kicking up stale dust, he managed to chance the occasional glance around him.

He stopped walking when he felt Tom's tug on the back of his arm and his gruff voice command, "Wait."

Jack almost groaned into his gag, feeling the first beads of sweat start their slow descent down the sides of his face. The humid air swimming in his vision and the gag stuffed rudely back into his mouth made him choke on every breath he inhaled, his throat scratchy and dry with his impaired ability to swallow. But he stood, despite the ache in his ribs and the pulse of his heart in his head, never once allowing himself to believe that after any moment, he might collapse to the ground.

He heard Henry before he saw him, coming from somewhere behind him and felt the pressure of Tom's restraint ease up as the man turned to watch his boss approach. For a second, Jack suddenly found himself flirting with rashness and barely brought his mind back to its senses before it had signaled his legs to bolt. His running off blindly into a jungle he didn't remember passing through was not going to help his current predicament anymore than it would help theirs. He had to be patient for them.

"Interesting choice, don't you agree?" Henry asked him, a less than genuine smile on his face. "I'll be honest with you, I never saw it coming."

Jack narrowed his eyes, but didn't reward Henry's bait with so much as a grunt of anger. He knew he also had to remain focused and level-headed, although he wanted to do so many unspeakable things to the man pacing in front of him… Save it for later, he thought to himself.

"When I was your prisoner," Henry continued, stopping in front of him and folding his hand behind his back. "I heard you took her along to make your trade and I thought that was interesting too. The doctor and the fugitive… Never would have seen that one coming either."

Jack was now staring over Henry's head, not quite trusting himself to remain calm if he continued to look into his pale and sickly blue eyes.

"Apparently it wasn't mutual."

It was a good thing he was gagged, Jack realized, feeling the edges of his mouth strain to curl into a smirk. Otherwise, he might have aroused Henry's suspicions further. Instead, he watched Henry nod silently to Tom and felt the binding on his wrists being loosened for the final time.

"Listen to my directions carefully, Jack," Henry said, leaning in close. "The sun will be heading towards the western sky soon. West is where your camp is, where your friends are. Follow the sun and you'll find your way home."

He stepped back, waited as the gag was loosened and fell from his captive's mouth, looked Jack once more in the eye and then tossed his head toward the jungle. "Go."

Jack took a few steps forward, until Henry was almost out of his peripheral vision and then stopped, feeling the need to do something, feeling that brashness fighting for recognition inside of him. He turned to look back and realized he hadn't heard Bea approach behind him.

"Is something wrong Jack?" Henry asked.

"If I find out, that you've so much as touched a hair on her head…" Jack let his threat evaporate into the shimmering heat.

Henry smiled a mocking grin, shaking his head at Jack's aggressiveness. "You won't." He knew perfectly well that that was not the answer or the reaction Jack had been expecting. "Now go before I change my mind."

Jack held his stare with his steely gaze another long and tense minute as if unsure whether to take his chances and beat him senseless right then and there or to walk away. Save it for later, he heard someone's voice repeat in his head. Save it for later.

With a final glare, Jack spun on his heel and walked away.

Henry, Bea, and Tom waited tensely, watching his figure shrink slowly as he reached the edges of their camp. Tom shifted and stilled again when Henry raised his hand, signaling him to wait. Then when Jack had advance another three yards, Henry nodded his head once, slowly, deliberately and the safety of the rifle in Bea's hands was released with a resounding click.

Kate kept forcing her eyes away from the hut door, knowing full well what was happening just past its few wooden planks. She convinced herself, as she chewed her lunch, that she could almost see his tall frame, striding past and into the jungle depths. But at the same time she cursed its opaqueness, she was grateful for that same trait. Watching him walk away last night was painful enough. She didn't want to have to watch his back retreating again.

"I wanted to say thank you," Kate said, awkwardly around her banana. Her temporarily free hands pulled at the peel, revealing more of the off-white fruit. She glanced up at Alex and took another bite, her stomach growling loudly.

"Sure," Alex replied.

They both were silent a moment, uncertain whether to let the issue drop or to continue discussing the possibilities of where that left them. They never had a chance to decide.

Its echo ringing loudly in their ears, both girls jumped at the sound of the gunshot crackling over the calm afternoon air.