III.

Bea Klugh woke up to the ticking of a clock somewhere in the distance. With each resonation, the sliver hand moved with a slow, steady effort.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

She could feel a strip of gauze wrapped around her head. Struggling to sit up, she let out a pained breath and settled on the crisp white sheets instead, focusing on the sooty fan rotating lazily overhead. She shut her eyes tight, trying to remember where she was.

Kiev. Of course. Unless...

Her eyes burst open at the sound of rickety wheels skidding down the long hallway outside. For a split second, she imagined that she was dead. A shot of pain up her arm convinced her otherwise. A nurse, clad in a red cap and white dress, wheeled by with a cart. Something was under it- something pale blue, sticking out from under the white sheets.

A hand?

She cut her breath in half and shut her eyes again. She was convinced she was alive. The black contrast of her evening window hinted nothing of her location. Steady footsteps settled in her ears, and before she knew it she was looking face to face with a young soviet doctor.

The young soviet doctor.

"What's wrong?" He asked immediately, placing a pair of bifocals on the bridge of his nose.

Bea stuttered. "It was- the"

"What's wrong?" He asked again. Bea knew he wasn't a doctor. His words flowed frigid, lacking any thought or warmth behind them.

"Nothing."

The young doctor scrunched up his handsome face and stood. He uttered something unintelligable to the nurse, who glanced at Bea and nodded, a sneer crossing over from his face to hers.

**4815162342**

"Mikhail? Come in Mikhail!" The voice of Benjamin Linus buzzed over the radio. Mikhail ignored the command, typing out the 10 number combination on the computer. The sullen face of Dr. Marvin Candle appeared on the screen, giving out the same instructions.

"For mainland communication-"

"Mikhail, pick up." Ben's voice continued. "I know you're there."

"Enter 54."

"I need you to get on Burke's personal file. An associate is looking over her sister. Open the communications."

Mikhail took the command in for a second, and then briskly typed '54' on the computer.

"Good. Now get down here. That's an order." The voice buzzed out, and Mikhail stood from where he was. He paced to the makeshift living room, where, out the wide doors of the station, a column of smoke rose near the beach.

"What....?" He murmured in Russian, but not before noticing the sun, dipping lower into the sky.

Time is what he needed.

**

"I need detailed profiles on every single passenger onboard." Mikhail heard Ben toss the command over his shoulder.

"I'm already on it."

"Rom and Goodwin are already out on the crash site, and if I'm to inform them of anything-"

"I said, I was on it." Mikhail uttered coldly for a second time. He could feel the silence resonate through Ben and the fertility specialist who hovered above his shoulder, his personal angel and devil. Tears still shone in her eyes, from the minute her sister appeared on the dusty screen, swinging some stranger's child who he did not know and never would.

His thoughts were on Bea. They always seemed to gravitate back to her. He had casually asked Ben of the other's conditions after the crash. With deceptive eyes, Ben gave him nothing to worry about- but nothing to take comfort in either, as far as he was concerned.

A plane in the sky was the least of his worries.

******************

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

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