Part 260: Truths and Secrets

Locke gently flipped the pages of the book and picked up his coffee cup, sipping the dark liquid. The older man was taking in some reading and it was interesting what he had found. Everyone else was searching The Outpost for supplies to survive; he had stumbled upon a book inside the Colonel’s quarters. He wanted to know more about the man and why he did the things he did. The book had proved to be most helpful.

Locke then sat it down temporary and walked back over to his small campfire; pouring himself a cup of coffee from the steel pot resting on the makeshift crate. “I thought I smelled a Starbucks out this way.” Mia giggled.

Locked turned and smiled at the young girl he practically considered a daughter. He walked over and embraced her. Mia smiled, enjoying the warmth of his embrace. After they parted, the bald man looked over to his pot. “Starbucks? I’m afraid not,” he grinned, “I don’t have the ability to serve Triple Vanilla Lattes here.”

Mia giggled at his joke.

“However, can I offer you some black coffee? At least with sugar?”

“Oh, please, I would love some,” she said, sitting down.

Locke pulled out a cream colored coffee mug and poured her a cup. He grabbed a handful of sugar packets and handed her both. “Thank you,” she smiled.

“So, Mia, what brings you out this way?” he said, sitting back down.

“I wanted to chat with you, see how you were doing, “ she smiled, “It seems like forever since we talked.”

“It does, doesn’t?” he smiled his warm smile again, “ Pretty exciting few days.”

“Exciting doesn’t even begin to cover it.” She said, dumping the sugar into her coffee.

“Do you miss him?”

“Miss who?”

“Watchman.”

Mia sipped on her cup, closing her eyes. She sighed as she leaned forward, bracing herself on her knees. “I really do,” she confessed,” I can’t even explain how much he touched me. It was like we were connected. It was like me and him meeting up . . .was . . . . . . .”

“Destiny?” Locke grinned.

Mia smirked, almost realizing the older man was getting a small amount of pleasure on what she was about to say. “You’re enjoying this.” She said, more of a statement than a question, “Me . . .regaining my faith.”

“Your grandmother would be very proud of what you did with Watchman, Mia.”

Mia smiled, closing her eyes and leaning her head back. The warm power swelling her heart felt like her grandmother was touching her soul. “I know,” she replied.

The two friends shared a comfortable silence for a moment. They both then sipped their coffee at the same time, like a father and daughter might do. Mia then turned her left and saw a book on the ground; a book she did not recognize. “What book is that?” she asked.

“Near as I can tell . . . .The Colonel’s Journal,” Locke confessed.

“What?” the Lakota gasped, “Where did you find that?”

“The others were raiding the supply area, I searched around his cabin and found this journal, in his footlocker,” he said, picking it up, “I wanted to understand more about the man and the Liberation.”

“Did you find anything?” Mia said, all of a sudden getting interested.

“Yeah, I did and actually it’s quite . . . .disturbing.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t the Liberation was THE Liberation. If I am reading this right and I am pretty sure I am, The Liberation we encountered was just a small cell, working independently of the whole.”

“What?” she gasped.

“There are other terrorist groups out there, Al-Quaida, Crimson Jihad, Red Brigade, all of those groups are huge and have many functioning cells. It isn’t so hard to believe.”

“Then . . .does it say if the rest of the Liberation know about this Island?”

“Actually, No. Fender seemed to be more fanatical than we realized. His journal entries were speaking of the glory of the Liberation and how War was the great Purifier.”

“What does that mean?”

“He was quoting the bible. The Meek shall inherit the Earth? He believed that that would actually happen, cause the strong would wipe themselves out.”

“What a horrid man.” She said.

“That not even the half of it, Mia. Listen to this.”

Mia then got up and walked over to where Locke was sitting; kneeling down right beside him. Locke then began to read into the journal pages, as he pointed for her benefit.

Spoke with White the other day, by long range communication. He was saying that he and his group had been hired to take out Tai Shing. He said he doesn’t trust the Germans, but we all have a long standing history. He got news from The Exalted One in Peru. He has given him permission to write CRO on a landmark, to leave our calling card as our ancestors once did. I do enjoy speaking with White. He and I are both students of history.


Mia rubbed her forehead, hearing what the paragraph just said. The Lakota girl remembered something CRO but she couldn’t quite place it. Locke slowly closed the book and looked at her. “How good are you with history, Mia?” he asked her.

She already knew what he was getting at. “That word . . . .CRO . . .that means something, doesn’t it?” she asked.

“It does. The scope of it, amazes me. CRO stands for CROATOAN, a nearby Island that is near the Island of Roanoke, off the coast of North Carolina.”

“What happened on Croatoan?” Mia asked.

“Actually, it’s the island of Roanoke where it happened. History tells of a colonist named John White returning home to the colony of Roanoke, after England was in War. He had left it 3 years earlier. When he returned, no man, woman or child could be found. The Island was deserted.”

“The people were kidnapped? An entire Island?”

“No one knows what happened. It’s been on of the greatest mysteries in history. One hundred and fourteen people just up and vanished. All their personal effects were there and there was no sign of a struggle.” Locke held up the book, “If Fender is not insane, I think one of the greatest mysteries has just been solved.”

“The Liberation . . .wiped out the Roanoke Population?” Mia was starting to understand the scope of what he was saying.

“Fender mentioned a White. I know for a fact that John White was the one who found the Island deserted. He spoke of ancestors. He spoke of writing CRO on a landmark, just like it was written on a tree in Roanoke. Mia . . . .if this is right, that means The Liberation has been running and around since 1587.”

“My god,” she held her mouth, “Who . . .are these men?”

“Indeed. And how far is their reach?” Locke said, putting the book down, “But I wouldn’t worry. These cells are independent. Whoever this Exalted One is, I doubt it would be some years before he determines that Fender and his group has been eliminated.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because of another journal entry I had read earlier. Fender mentioned he never spoke to The Exalted One face to face. It was always by messenger relay and it was every ten years. Something tells me we are going to be off this Island by then.”

“How do you think that?”

Locke smiled his warm smile at the young girl again. “Because I have faith.” He said, simply.


------------------------------------------------------------------------,

The night had befallen across the Island once again. Down the area of the beach, past the Turbshaft concert area, Tony and Marita sat by themselves on the beach, using a tree as a backrest. Tony touched the tree while Marita sat between his legs, using him as a back rest. He had his arms around her and she enjoyed leaning her head against his collarbone. The aroma of the Stetson cologne emitting from his neck and she fought hard not to bite it. “I hope we can be alone like this back home.” She said, rubbing his arms.

“We will.” He promised her.

“Where will we live? You live in Los Angeles, right, Tony?”

“Yeah. I own a loft.” He snickered.

“Whoa!” Marita giggled, “I always wanted to live in a loft. That will be so cool.”

“It’s a little bachelor pad at the moment but I wouldn’t mind a certain Latina giving it a more homely feel.”

“Oooohh,” she said, kissing his chin, “Can we have black sheets? I’ve always wanted black sheets to share with my man.”

Tony laughed. Marita leaned back into him and stared up at the starry sky. She raised up her hand and traced the outline of stars that she saw. “I can’t wait to get home, Tony,” she whispered, “I guess we should have Micheal build another raft but after what happened, I wouldn’t blame him for not getting on it.”

Tony took a deep breath. What he learned from Belmont seemed to be continuing to come up in his mind. He needed to get another opinion on what would happened and if he couldn’t trust Marita, who could he trust? “Baby,” he whispered.

“Yeah, honey?” she said.

“I have something important to tell you.” He said.

Marita paused. She then shifted around so she could face him, as Tony knew she would. The Latina was alarmed at the seriousness of his tone. He took a deep breath, reaching up and stroking her hair. “I’ve been harboring a terrible secret, Marita,” he whispered, “I am unsure how to proceed and . . .I wanted to hear what you had to say.”

“What secret, Tony?” she said, taking his hand.

Tony looked up and then down, gently adjusting his sunglasses. “Belmont wasn’t panicking,” he muttered, “He knew exactly where he was going.”

“Where was that?”

“Some place he called Broadway. When me and him fought, he said that our friends couldn’t be able to find him and in two weeks, he’d leave this Island in the dust.”

“He . . .said that?” she gasped.

“Yes. Fender and Belmont plus a few others made mention of something called the Rogue. I have a feeling, it’s some kind of transport. It’s how Belmont was going to leave the Island.”

“Then this Rogue . . .could get us off the Island?” she said, starting to giggle.

“Possibly but-“

“Oh, MY GOD! Why did you keep this a secret? We have to tell the others!!” she laughed.

“Marita, wait,” Tony warned.

“I can’t wait to get off this Island!” she said, standing up and getting ready to run.

“MARITA, STOP!!!” the blind man screamed.

The Latina paused when she heard her boyfriend scream in a tone of slight anger. Tony motioned for her to come back and pointed to the ground and sit down. The stewardess slowly walked back over and sat down. “You really shouldn’t have kept this from us, Tony,” she said, whimpering a little.

“Marita, what is the Rogue?” Tony asked.

“Huh?” she said, confused.

“It’s a simple question; what is the Rogue?” he repeated.

“It’s a plane. You just said so.”

“I never said it was a plane.” The blind doctor said sternly.

“What? But you just said-“

“I said Belmont said he would leave this Island in the dust. What made you think that I was talking about a plane?”

Marita went silent. The more Tony talked to her, the more she realized he truly didn’t say the word Plane. Tony sighed, rubbing his mouth. “It could be a plane,” he whispered, “It could be a boat. Hell, it could be a damn submarine for all I know. If it is a submarine, how the hell are we supposed to commendere that? You think we got a few submarine captains among the survivors?”

Marita understood his words and why he was talking to her that way. She leaned in closer, leaning back into his arms. “I’m sorry, Tony. I feel so stupid.” She grunted.

“No, you are not stupid,” he said, kissing her on the forehead, “You were simply excited when I told you the prospect of getting off the Island. But now I want you to think about your reaction. What do you think the reaction would be of everybody else on this Island?”

Marita sighed. “They would feel the same way.”

“That’s why I haven’t told anybody. They would love nothing more than to get off this Island and they would rush to this area called Broadway, without any concern for the danger that is before them.”

“Sorry I said that. I understand why you kept it from us.”

“But I trust you, Marita. Do I continue to keep this a secret . . .or should I be brave enough to tell a select few?”

Marita twisted around to face him again. “You think . ..we should take a chance at grabbing the Rogue?” she asked.

“I don’t know. It could be hope but it could also be false hope. What if . . .the Rogue is a damn battleship . . .with THOUSANDS of Liberation members on board? We have no way of knowing but if that was the case, we wouldn’t stand a chance.” He said, with a small tear running down his cheek, “I . .. I don’t know what to do.”

Marita wiped the tear from his cheek and kissed him. “I don’t know what to do either, Tony,” she said, “But you said Belmont said the Rogue is coming in two weeks. That doesn’t chance the fact that is indeed coming.”

Tony shook his head, “You think, even though we have gotten rid of one threat, another one is coming to bite us on the ass?”

“Maybe Danielle was right,” she whispered, “Maybe we should go and hide.”

Tony held out his arms and Marita back into them. He held her close and rubbed her arms, keeping her warm. “I don’t know what we should do yet,” he said, “But I will sleep on it.”

“Whatever you plan, Tony, I will back you one hundred percent.”

He leaned over and kissed her deeply. Marita felt aroused from the intoxicating smell of the cologne as it caressed over her. As they parted, Tony felt her face, making her close her eyes from his touch. “I haven’t stopped thanking this Island for delivering you to me.” He smiled.

The two lovers held each other in their embrace as the night crept on. The blind doctor knew his love with Marita would see him through. But what to do about the Rogue and his friends?

He knew he would have to sleep on it.