Chapter 11: A Pound of Flesh

Ben consulted with Juliet before bringing Alex in to talk to Jack. He decided that she should go in alone—he knew Jack would be inclined to believe his daughter was being coached—or coerced—if he was in the room.

He watched with Juliet from another room as Alex brought Jack a folder full of x-rays and a hamburger.

"You were on the dock," Jack said to her, opening the folder.

Alex nodded. "He's my dad," she told Jack, pointing at the scans.

"Right." Jack took a bite of the burger and chewed it as Alex watched.

"Are you going to help him?" she asked. It wasn't a request, and she didn't seem scared or desperate—just curious for Jack's answer.

"Do you want me to help him?" Jack asked, picking up on Alex's tone.

"Yes," she replied sincerely, "I do." She sat down across from Jack and buried her head in her hands. "I don't like the way he does things," she confessed, pulling her hair back from her face. "I don't think pitting you people against each other really makes sense. But he's my dad. I believe he has a good heart—I know he does. I know it's hard to see that—I get why you wouldn't want to do this—but I don't want him to die."

"Will he let my friends go?"

Alex glanced at the camera.

"Is he listening to this conversation?"

She nodded.

"Did he ask you to talk to me?"

Alex nodded again.

Ben turned to Juliet. "I'm going in there," he declared.

She reached out to stop him. "Give her a minute."

"I wanted to talk to you too," Alex replied.

Ben glanced at Juliet with surprise.

"A little honesty goes a long way," Juliet murmured.

"You were listening."

"Of course."

"Look—he's scared," Alex told Jack. "He's a powerful man, but he's always scared that he's going to lose it all. And now, even if he doesn't die, he might lose the ability to walk—what do you think will happen to him if he is confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life?"

"He could pull a Roosevelt," Jack muttered to himself.

"What?"

"Never mind—listen, I don't really want to let him die. I'd just like to know that my friends are safe. I want him to let them go."

Before Juliet could stop him, Ben hurried out the door and into the room with Alex.

"There he is," Jack announced.

"I won't let them go until the surgery is over," Ben informed Jack. "They're my insurance policy."

"And I won't do it until they're free—so it seems we're at an impasse. I've got all the time in the world—you've got weeks. Days, maybe. I like my hand."

Ben frowned. "Your friends don't seem too put out by their current situation. I'm not sure they'd mind the wait. They've grown rather close in captivity."

"What are you talking about"

"You know Jack, if I were a betting man, I would have picked her and you."

Jack understood what was being implied.

"You're lying."

"I could show you the surveillance video, Jack—I don't suppose you'd enjoy it very much. Unless you're into that sort of thing?"

"Dad!" Alex exclaimed. He'd nearly forgotten she was in the room.

"If I were a betting man, Ben, I'd bet that woman wasn't really your wife." Jack replied, his tone changing to match Ben's antagonism. "I would've picked her and literally anyone else."

Ben scowled at Jack—it wasn't the sort of comment that should have affected him, but he felt a wave of anger creeping up his neck. He clenched his fist.

"Dad—"

He calmed himself down. "Well, Jack," he said smoothly, "if you have any sense of what that woman really wants, I'd like to hear it."

Jack seemed confused by the comment. "She's not one of you people?"

Ben shook his head. "She was on the plane with you. She claimed to be here to help me with this." He gestured at the x-rays on the table. "I believed her at first, but…" he trailed off.

"But he ignored her advice and locked her up in our house because he couldn't see a way to convince you that didn't involve kidnapping and coercion," Alex chimed in with a sarcastic smile.

"Alex, you can go."

"I'll do it," Jack said suddenly.

"I'm sorry?"

"I'll do it because your daughter doesn't want her dad to die, and if we play a game of chicken over this, that's exactly what will happen."

Ben locked eyes with him. There was a transparent sincerity in his eyes. Jack had a compulsion to help—just as Valerie had insisted. He didn't need the specter of imprisoned friends hanging over him. He would do it because it was right.

Ben turned to the security camera. "Let them go," he told Juliet.

"Really?" Jack asked, incredulous.

"Really."

"Thank you," Alex added, and slipped out of the room. Ben wasn't certain it was Jack she was thanking.

Jack prepared Juliet and Ethan for the surgery. Ben watched on, half attentive. The doctors discussed their approach clinically. In other situations, that might seem reassuringly professional—but, as they discussed dissecting him as though he weren't in the room, he felt rather like a piece of meat waiting to be properly butchered.

He took a short walk around the facility and bumped into Richard, who had stopped by to update him on the survivors. Kate and Sawyer had been returned—blindfolded—to a clearing about an hour's walk from the Swan.

Richard also brought difficult news. Tragedy had struck soon after his extraction—Goodwin's group of survivors had met the group from the caves, and things had gone south immediately.

Everyone had been on edge after they'd realized they'd been duped by Audrey and Dean. They were scared without Jack's leadership and confused about Michael's apparent betrayal. It seemed that they'd taken Goodwin's group of survivors to be hostile—someone had fired a gun, which led to a brief firefight that had taken Goodwin's life, along with two of the women.

"We should tell Juliet," Richard noted, expecting some resistance from Ben.

He thought about it. They were scheduling his procedure for tomorrow. It would probably be best if she wasn't distracted. But Juliet's words echoed in his mind. A little honesty goes a long way.

"I suppose we should," he agreed reluctantly. "Though I suspect she'd rather not hear it from me."

"I can tell her. But you ought to be there."

Ben nodded.

"What has my house guest been up to?" He asked, as they walked down the hall.

Richard shook his head. "She's a strange woman, Ben."

"What does that mean?"

"She's made herself quite at home. She's made no attempt at all to leave your house. She's moping around—playing piano, leaning out your window to smoke cigarettes, reading—she'll probably be most of the way through your wine by now. She's just—"

"—waiting," Ben finished.

"It's almost as though she's genuinely worried about you," Richard suggested.

"Or worried that she's been caught, and is waiting for her punishment," Ben countered. "You said she's been smoking?"

"Quite prolifically, though she's making some effort not to do it inside the house."

"That's not what I'm worried about. Has anyone brought her cigarettes?"

"I don't believe so?" Richard replied.

"I keep a few cartons in my basement closet. They can be useful, in certain situations."

"You think she's found the tunnels?"

"Or she already knew about them," Ben noted.

"Well, if that's the case, she hasn't used them to escape."

"A problem for another day, I suppose," Ben muttered as they arrived at the operating room.

Juliet was in the middle of sanitizing the table. "Juliet," Ben called to her.

"Now's not a great time," she answered.

"Would you please come with us for a moment," he asked, immediately regretting his stern tone.

Jack looked up from the scans he was studying. Juliet glanced meaningfully at him.

"Juliet," Richard said gently.

"Jack can hear whatever you have to say to me," she replied.

Richard stepped toward her. Ben lingered in the doorway, hesitant to make himself part of the conversation.

"I'm sorry, Juliet. It's Goodwin," Richard said simply.

"No."

"There was a misunderstanding—the survivors started firing on each other. He didn't make it."

"No," she said again, choking back a sob. Jack rushed over to comfort her. "This is your fault!" she wailed at Ben and promptly burst into tears.

He frowned at her. "I'm so sorry Juliet," he said, with as much sincerity as he could muster. There was a time where Goodwin's demise might have been a small victory for him—but now, looking at Juliet's pain, all he felt was pity.

"We can push back the surgery," he found himself saying. "You should take some time. We can do that, right Jack?"

Jack silently shook his head. "Maybe a day or two. I could do it with only Ethan," Jack offered. "It would be better with Juliet's help." He turned to Juliet. "I can't ask you to do that, though."

She nodded slowly.

"There was a shootout?" Jack asked, turning to Richard.

"That's what we gathered," Richard explained. "This was about a week ago. There were two other deaths—a woman from Goodwin's group named Ana-Lucia, and a young woman from your group named Shannon. They were all just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Jack shook his head in mournful disbelief. "Kate and Sawyer are alright?"

"They're back at the camp," Richard confirmed.

He sighed.

"Push it back another couple of days, Jack," Ben insisted, surprised at himself. Jack nodded.

"Ben," Juliet called out as they turned to leave. "I appreciate you not keeping this from me."

He knew her words were intended more as an admonishment for his past omissions than actual gratitude, but she seemed to understand the significance of the choice he had made.

He nodded curtly at her and walked swiftly out of the room. At the end of the day, delaying the surgery was in his own interests. A distraught Juliet would be an ineffective surgeon, and Jack was sure to respect him for his small act of selflessness. And he could only shield Juliet from the news for so long—learning that he'd kept it from her would only serve to make her more vindictive in the future.

"Doing the right thing agrees with you," Richard told Ben, noticing his self-satisfied grin.

"Even I can be kind when it suits my purposes," Ben replied quickly.

"Of course," Richard said, with a knowing smile. "But that doesn't make it any less right."

"I suppose," Ben admitted grudgingly. "Am I losing my edge?"

"Just getting older and wiser."

"Well, Richard," Ben joked, "you're the expert on that."