Part 337: The News
The group had gathered into the mess hall in the beginning hours of the evening. Mia and Shanna had come back with a pile of papers they printed out, during their research on the Internet. Mia started to rattle off most of the stuff that had happened in the world. Iraq insurgents were still causing havoc in the Middle East, and the soldiers still remained out there. Hurricanes had been pounding the south. President Bush’s political favor continued to drop but apparently had been re-elected president over Kerry. And the Red Sox had won the World Series. Shanna was laughing, saying how much that will make Jack happy. The group grew a rounds of gasps when Mia confessed to them, they were at that moment, 20 day away from Christmas.
Then Mia proceeded to pull out the documentation that every one was mostly interested in; Flight 815. The Lakota girl then held up the document in specialized attention to Marita. “I got this from the main website of Oceanic Air,” she said, as she began to read, “Michael Orteig, President of Oceanic Airlines, released this statement After 25 years of service, we are forced to close our doors. Due to financial difficulties in the wake of the Flight 815 tragedy, we are no longer able to sustain service. We are deeply sorry that we can no longer serve our loyal customers, and apologize for any inconvenience our decision will cause."
“Oh, my God,” the Latina whispered, “I’m out of a job.”
“Poor Yolanda too.” Taylor mentioned.
“Is there any mention of us, Mia?” Chance asked.
“There is unfortunately a handful of stuff about us, mostly obituaries.” She started to shift through the papers, “Chance, I am sorry but they believe you and Arizona are dead.”
“Aw, man,” the Texan woman groaned, burying her face in her hands.
“Taylor, your mother believes you are dead.” The Lakota girl continued.
“Lovely,” the blonde wiped her tear.
“Ana-Lucia, your mother conducted a parade in your honor in Brooklyn.”
The Latina cop stood up, almost teary eyed. “She . . .she did?” she gulped.
Mia handed her the page she printed out from the internet. She looked at the document and saw the black and white photo from a local paper, with her mother at the head of the parade, followed by several police officers in dress uniforms. Ana-Lucia then dropped the paper and ran away. Sun stood up but Sawyer motioned for her to sit back down. “Rambolina is going to have to deal with that on her own, Mrs. Chewie.” He sighed.
Shanna handed Mia more papers as the girl continued. “Mandy, there is no mention about you from your family. Nor is there any mention about Shanna’s family, McKay’s family, Seth’s family, nor Tony’s family.”
Mia shifted over to another paper, “There is no mention about John’s family but there was a memorial service held for his friend Ramon Vega.”
The young woman looked over another paper, “ Jack’s Mom is trying to get a hospital wing dedicated to the Shepard name in honor of him and his father.”
“Any mention of my family?” Jenny asked.
“Yeah, Jenny, your mother was interviewed by her local paper and she said that as long as your body wasn’t found, she didn’t consider you dead; just lost.”
“Go mom.” The young teenager smiled, with a sigh.
“Joscelyn, there is no word about your mother or your father but you sister and her husband in California refused to believe you are dead,” Mia handed her a page of paper, “Apparently they took out a ton of news paper ads in Australia, Japan and Korea with that page.”
The young woman looked at the document. It was a simple page adorned with roses and daises. In big bold letters, it read WE LOVE YOU, JOE, WHERE EVER YOU ARE. ~ Paige and Derek.
Joscelyn then collapsed in Hurley’s arms, crying up a storm. Everybody smiled and gently commented that they were impressed on the love given to her by her sister. Mia paused for a second, then looked to the remaining pages. “Kristy’s family believes she is dead,” she sighed, “Sadly Martin’s family believes he is dead. Charlie’s family believes he is dead cause his brother Liam has apparently announced plans that he is reforming Drive-Shaft to honor Charlie.”
“What?” Dutch asked.
“Hal’s father believes he is dead, Libby’s parents believe she is dead and last but not least, my uncle and my brother believe I am dead.” Mia flopped the paper down on a nearby table.
“No mention from my family?” Karleigh looked sad.
“No, that’s all I could find.” The Lakota girl shrugged her shoulders.
The group stood in silence for a few minutes, dwelling on the knowledge of what Mia had told them. Some of their families had accepted their lost, others refused to give up hope and then the remaining families were unknown about their feelings. How will they react when their loved ones return home alive? The group wondered about that but Marita had other thins on her mind.
Like why that debriefing was taking so long.
-------------------------------------------------,
Tony, McKay and John sat by themselves in the white room for a good twenty minutes. John yawned as he was growing bored. Tony kept twitching his hands up to his forehead; getting used to wearing the eye patch. Every time he did, his archer friend would slap his hand down. McKay yawned and scratched the back his head. He then looked at his friends. “You want to play Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon?” he asked.
“I wish they left us some paper, “ John grunted, “I could be doodling.”
“How about Rock, Paper, Scissors?” Tony mentioned.
Then the door to the outer room opened. Inman walked in, with his tie loosened and a new tape recorder, not to mention a folder. “It’s just Inman.” John mentioned for his blind friend’s benefit.
“We scare you, Inman?” Tony asked.
The CIA agent said nothing. He sat back down in front of them, placing the folder to one side. He then pressed REC on the tape recorder. “Joe Inman, processing three civilians with possible ties to the Liberation, December 5th.” He coughed.
“It’s December?” McKay blinked.
“You say you fought against the Liberation?” he pointed toward McKay.
“Yeah, mate, I did.”
“You?” he pointed toward John.
“Absolutely.”
“I’m going to show you some photos of know operatives within the Liberation.” He said, opening the manila folder to his right, “You will tell me if you’ve seen these people.”
He produced the first photo of one person. McKay looked at it and sneered. “Frakes.” He coughed.
Inman paused for a second. Then he produced another photo. John then immediately recognized the woman in the shoot. He tapped on the photo. “That’s Pristine.” He said.
Inman was growing a wide mixtures of emotions; amazement, annoyance and cuiousity. He then produced more photos. The two friends who’s eyes worked were able to identify most of them. McKay was amazed when he produced a picture of Texas but he was scrawny and skinny. Truly the mutation of whatever effect Watchman had on him caused him to be a behemoth.
After Inman was done with the photos, John paused for a second. “Where’s the Colonel?” the archer asked.
“Who?” the operative questions.
“Colonel Marcus Fender. He was in charge of them. Why don’t you have his picture?”
Inman slowly rubbed his eyes, and tugged on his beard for a few seconds. He leaned the tape recorder closer to himself, then spoke softly into it. “Let it show for the record that John Riggs and Barto McKay have just identified the cell of the Liberation operating in this area, “ he sighed, “Not to mention . ..identify their mysterious leader . . .by name.”
Inman then slowly pulled out a flask from his coat pocket and took a swig of it. John crossed his arms, studying the man’s reaction. “You didn’t have his photo . . .cause you didn’t know who he was?” he concluded.
McKay chuckled. “I’ll bet you’ve been searching for these guys for years, having you, Inman?” he smiled.
“What is the status of all the individuals I’ve just shown you?” he asked.
“They’re dead.” Tony said plainly.
“How?”
“We killed them.”
“ALL OF THEM?” he exclaimed.
“Yes.”
“Oh, BULL(BEEP)!!”Inman slammed his hand on the desk and stood up.
The three friends looked at him as he leaned against a wall, rubbing his face. “Let me get this straight,” he whispered, “A blind doctor, an Olympic archer, and an outback guide managed to pull together 56 civilians to defeat a mercenary groups, with NO TRAINING, and NO GUNS?”
“I never said we didn’t have guns.” Tony whispered.
“Where did you get them?”
“From smaller parties among the passengers, not to mention the smaller groups of Liberation we stopped in guerilla warfare tactics.”
“And we had help,” McKay pointed out, “ The people who are still on the Island, were knowledgeable in those kinds of things.”
“Plus, I am a hell of a good shot,” John chuckled.
The three friends then laughed at their inside joke. Inman leaned forward and got into their direct area. “I’m glad you think this is funny but I am not amused.” He hissed, “Now you are going to tell me how you pulled off such a feat, not to mention everything that happened on that Island.”
“Everything?” Tony mentioned.
“Yes, everything.”
“Then sit down Inman and make sure you got plenty of tapes, “ the blind man pointed, “I’ll be more than happy to tell you about what happened on the Island; the Liberation, everything. There is, of course, just one tiny problem.”
“And that is?” Inman asked.
“You won’t believe a single word of it. “ the blind doctor whispered.
Then Mia proceeded to pull out the documentation that every one was mostly interested in; Flight 815. The Lakota girl then held up the document in specialized attention to Marita. “I got this from the main website of Oceanic Air,” she said, as she began to read, “Michael Orteig, President of Oceanic Airlines, released this statement After 25 years of service, we are forced to close our doors. Due to financial difficulties in the wake of the Flight 815 tragedy, we are no longer able to sustain service. We are deeply sorry that we can no longer serve our loyal customers, and apologize for any inconvenience our decision will cause."
“Oh, my God,” the Latina whispered, “I’m out of a job.”
“Poor Yolanda too.” Taylor mentioned.
“Is there any mention of us, Mia?” Chance asked.
“There is unfortunately a handful of stuff about us, mostly obituaries.” She started to shift through the papers, “Chance, I am sorry but they believe you and Arizona are dead.”
“Aw, man,” the Texan woman groaned, burying her face in her hands.
“Taylor, your mother believes you are dead.” The Lakota girl continued.
“Lovely,” the blonde wiped her tear.
“Ana-Lucia, your mother conducted a parade in your honor in Brooklyn.”
The Latina cop stood up, almost teary eyed. “She . . .she did?” she gulped.
Mia handed her the page she printed out from the internet. She looked at the document and saw the black and white photo from a local paper, with her mother at the head of the parade, followed by several police officers in dress uniforms. Ana-Lucia then dropped the paper and ran away. Sun stood up but Sawyer motioned for her to sit back down. “Rambolina is going to have to deal with that on her own, Mrs. Chewie.” He sighed.
Shanna handed Mia more papers as the girl continued. “Mandy, there is no mention about you from your family. Nor is there any mention about Shanna’s family, McKay’s family, Seth’s family, nor Tony’s family.”
Mia shifted over to another paper, “There is no mention about John’s family but there was a memorial service held for his friend Ramon Vega.”
The young woman looked over another paper, “ Jack’s Mom is trying to get a hospital wing dedicated to the Shepard name in honor of him and his father.”
“Any mention of my family?” Jenny asked.
“Yeah, Jenny, your mother was interviewed by her local paper and she said that as long as your body wasn’t found, she didn’t consider you dead; just lost.”
“Go mom.” The young teenager smiled, with a sigh.
“Joscelyn, there is no word about your mother or your father but you sister and her husband in California refused to believe you are dead,” Mia handed her a page of paper, “Apparently they took out a ton of news paper ads in Australia, Japan and Korea with that page.”
The young woman looked at the document. It was a simple page adorned with roses and daises. In big bold letters, it read WE LOVE YOU, JOE, WHERE EVER YOU ARE. ~ Paige and Derek.
Joscelyn then collapsed in Hurley’s arms, crying up a storm. Everybody smiled and gently commented that they were impressed on the love given to her by her sister. Mia paused for a second, then looked to the remaining pages. “Kristy’s family believes she is dead,” she sighed, “Sadly Martin’s family believes he is dead. Charlie’s family believes he is dead cause his brother Liam has apparently announced plans that he is reforming Drive-Shaft to honor Charlie.”
“What?” Dutch asked.
“Hal’s father believes he is dead, Libby’s parents believe she is dead and last but not least, my uncle and my brother believe I am dead.” Mia flopped the paper down on a nearby table.
“No mention from my family?” Karleigh looked sad.
“No, that’s all I could find.” The Lakota girl shrugged her shoulders.
The group stood in silence for a few minutes, dwelling on the knowledge of what Mia had told them. Some of their families had accepted their lost, others refused to give up hope and then the remaining families were unknown about their feelings. How will they react when their loved ones return home alive? The group wondered about that but Marita had other thins on her mind.
Like why that debriefing was taking so long.
-------------------------------------------------,
Tony, McKay and John sat by themselves in the white room for a good twenty minutes. John yawned as he was growing bored. Tony kept twitching his hands up to his forehead; getting used to wearing the eye patch. Every time he did, his archer friend would slap his hand down. McKay yawned and scratched the back his head. He then looked at his friends. “You want to play Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon?” he asked.
“I wish they left us some paper, “ John grunted, “I could be doodling.”
“How about Rock, Paper, Scissors?” Tony mentioned.
Then the door to the outer room opened. Inman walked in, with his tie loosened and a new tape recorder, not to mention a folder. “It’s just Inman.” John mentioned for his blind friend’s benefit.
“We scare you, Inman?” Tony asked.
The CIA agent said nothing. He sat back down in front of them, placing the folder to one side. He then pressed REC on the tape recorder. “Joe Inman, processing three civilians with possible ties to the Liberation, December 5th.” He coughed.
“It’s December?” McKay blinked.
“You say you fought against the Liberation?” he pointed toward McKay.
“Yeah, mate, I did.”
“You?” he pointed toward John.
“Absolutely.”
“I’m going to show you some photos of know operatives within the Liberation.” He said, opening the manila folder to his right, “You will tell me if you’ve seen these people.”
He produced the first photo of one person. McKay looked at it and sneered. “Frakes.” He coughed.
Inman paused for a second. Then he produced another photo. John then immediately recognized the woman in the shoot. He tapped on the photo. “That’s Pristine.” He said.
Inman was growing a wide mixtures of emotions; amazement, annoyance and cuiousity. He then produced more photos. The two friends who’s eyes worked were able to identify most of them. McKay was amazed when he produced a picture of Texas but he was scrawny and skinny. Truly the mutation of whatever effect Watchman had on him caused him to be a behemoth.
After Inman was done with the photos, John paused for a second. “Where’s the Colonel?” the archer asked.
“Who?” the operative questions.
“Colonel Marcus Fender. He was in charge of them. Why don’t you have his picture?”
Inman slowly rubbed his eyes, and tugged on his beard for a few seconds. He leaned the tape recorder closer to himself, then spoke softly into it. “Let it show for the record that John Riggs and Barto McKay have just identified the cell of the Liberation operating in this area, “ he sighed, “Not to mention . ..identify their mysterious leader . . .by name.”
Inman then slowly pulled out a flask from his coat pocket and took a swig of it. John crossed his arms, studying the man’s reaction. “You didn’t have his photo . . .cause you didn’t know who he was?” he concluded.
McKay chuckled. “I’ll bet you’ve been searching for these guys for years, having you, Inman?” he smiled.
“What is the status of all the individuals I’ve just shown you?” he asked.
“They’re dead.” Tony said plainly.
“How?”
“We killed them.”
“ALL OF THEM?” he exclaimed.
“Yes.”
“Oh, BULL(BEEP)!!”Inman slammed his hand on the desk and stood up.
The three friends looked at him as he leaned against a wall, rubbing his face. “Let me get this straight,” he whispered, “A blind doctor, an Olympic archer, and an outback guide managed to pull together 56 civilians to defeat a mercenary groups, with NO TRAINING, and NO GUNS?”
“I never said we didn’t have guns.” Tony whispered.
“Where did you get them?”
“From smaller parties among the passengers, not to mention the smaller groups of Liberation we stopped in guerilla warfare tactics.”
“And we had help,” McKay pointed out, “ The people who are still on the Island, were knowledgeable in those kinds of things.”
“Plus, I am a hell of a good shot,” John chuckled.
The three friends then laughed at their inside joke. Inman leaned forward and got into their direct area. “I’m glad you think this is funny but I am not amused.” He hissed, “Now you are going to tell me how you pulled off such a feat, not to mention everything that happened on that Island.”
“Everything?” Tony mentioned.
“Yes, everything.”
“Then sit down Inman and make sure you got plenty of tapes, “ the blind man pointed, “I’ll be more than happy to tell you about what happened on the Island; the Liberation, everything. There is, of course, just one tiny problem.”
“And that is?” Inman asked.
“You won’t believe a single word of it. “ the blind doctor whispered.
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