Part 372: The Courier
Hurley took a deep breath as he sat at the table inside Winkies, sipping his coffee. He hadn’t slept the entire night and had been busy collecting some things, not to mention making a very important phone call. The previous night he made a decision to get rid of Joscelyn’s father. For the good of her welfare and the good of her family. He was a little worried about the decision he had but it was for the best and it was took late to back out now.
The small bell rang out as another patron walked into the diner. This particular patron was an old acquaintance of his from the Island. He wasn’t sure if the man considered him a friend but at the moment, it didn’t matter. The man knew he had helped him to win Joscelyn’s heart in a particular moment and he felt that was the reason he might agreed to help. “You’re not eating, Jabba,” Sawyer said as he sat down at the table, “That worries me.”
“I’m not hungry.” Hurley whispered.
“Yeah, I can imagine. After what happened to little JoJo, I am not sure I would want any food either.”
Hurley looked at him in surprise. Sawyer took a deep breath and sighed. “Ana-Lucia called me.” He told him.
“Then you know it was her own father that attacked her?”
“I find that hard to comprehend. But I believe you that it happened.” Sawyer leaned in, staring at the large man, “Now, pray tell, why did you call me here?”
Hurley took a deeper breath and sipped his coffee again. “Shortly after we were in the hospital with Joscelyn, she said she wanted her father . . . .removed from her life.” He coughed.
“Removed?” the redneck raised an eyebrow.
“Yes. And uh. . .the bastard then . . has the gall to call me on my cell and demand that I give him all of Joscelyn’s money. If I don’t, he’s going to do something worse to her and to Paige, not to mention her children.”
A vein to the right of Sawyer’s head began to twitch. The southern man had done a lot of things in his life that he wasn’t proud of but threatening children was something he considered evil. Hurley took another sip of his coffee and rubbed his cheek. “Outside in my truck is 5 leather bags,” he coughed, “Leather bags . . .filled with phone books. The scum bag doesn’t want me to deliver the money, he wanted someone else, because I am too high profile.”
“But you ain’t delivering the money; you are delivering phone books,” Sawyer pointed out.
“Actually, Sawyer . . .I was hoping you would make the delivery.”
Sawyer smiled as he looked at him. “I think I am staring to put the pieces of this jigsaw together,” he leaned back, “You want to take care of dear ol’dad, Jabba? I get to be your Boba Fett?”
Hurley then pulled out a white grocery bag. Inside was three manila envelopes, stuffed to the gorge. He then calmly slid the bag and the contents toward the southern man. “There is 2 million dollars in there,” he whispered, “Use it however you need to. Leave the country, whatever.”
Sawyer leaned up and opened the bag. He gently felt of one of the envelopes, seeing how tightly packed they were. Hurley then opened up his jacket and pulled out the photo of Joscelyn in her beaten state. He dropped it on the table in front of his friend. “If you need further convincing, take a look.” He whispered.
Sawyer picked up the photo. As he saw her crying face filled with bruises and red welts, he took a deep breathe. Never had he felt more rage in his life. “This . . .bastard . . .say where he wanted the money?” he asked.
“He’ll give me a call and then I’ll call you.”
Sawyer then took the photo and placed it in his own jacket. He then put his hand on the bag of money and calmly slid it back toward Hurley. The large man looked at the bag and then at Sawyer; his face filled with complete bewilderment. “Keep your money, big man,” he smirked, “Buy the Princess something night for Christmas. This job . . .I do for free.”
“Dude,” he said in astonishment, “You really have grown.”
“How kind of you to notice, “ He chuckled as he wrote down a number on a napkin, “That’s my cell phone. Call me when this son of a bitch gives you the location of the meet. I got to make some phone calls and go talk to somebody.”
“Thank you for this, Sawyer,” Hurley stood up and shook his head, “I hope you don’t get caught.”
“I ain’t gonna get caught cause I ain’t going to kill him.”
“Huh?” the large man gulped, “But I thought-“
“You want him removed, Jabba? I’m going to remove him.” He said, following him outside, “But my killing days are over.”
“Dude, I take back everything I said about you. You really have grown.”
Sawyer laughed as he opened up the truck on his Dodger Charger and began to put the leather bags into the back. He didn’t really consider Hurley a friend; not like McKay was his friend. However, the more he knew the big man, he more he grew to like him.
Jack opened the door to his house and took a deep breath. It had been a long taxing day. He had been able to help many people, including a poor old woman with a broken hip and a child with a screw driver stuck in his rib cage. But the unfortunate part was that during the whole day he couldn’t take his thoughts off Joscelyn. For a father to do that to his own daughter, was horrific to even comprehend. He then thought of his own father and the struggles he had with him. Then he remembered the story Locke told him of his own father as well. Why did it seem like a majority of them had daddy issues? Jack dropped his keys and then blinked when he heard a burp from his kitchen.
Jack then slowly walked from his living room into the kitchen and looked in. Sawyer took another swig of a small Pepsi as he calmly ate pizza at Jack’s dinner table. “Hey, doc, “ he smiled, “Have a seat. I saved you a few slices.”
“Sawyer, what .. .what you doing?” Jack demanded.
Sawyer blinked and shrugged his shoulders. “I’m composing a symphony. I’m eating pizza, Jack! What the hell do you think I am doing?”
“I see that you are eating pizza, “ the doc pinched the bridge of his nose, “What I meant what, why are you eating . . .no, scratch that, you’ll just give me another smart ass answer. How did you get in my house?”
The southern man shook some parmesan on his thin crust pizza and pointed to a key on the table. “Spare key above the door, Jack?” he laughed, “That is the first place robbers look.”
Jack rolled his eyes and considering Sawyer’s past, he was probably right. He calmly walked over toward the table and sat down. Sawyer smirked as he handed him the parmesan. The doctor took the bottle and doused a piece of pizza with it and proceeded to eat it. The southern man handed him a Pepsi when he then opened and took a sip out of it. Jack stared at the man with a slight mixture of annoyance and gratitude. “Thanks . . .for supplying dinner.” He grunted.
“Eat up, doc,” Sawyer burped again, “Then we’ll talk about why I am here.”
After they ate the majority of the pizza, they went into Jack’s study. The doctor opened up the anatomy book and browsed through it’s pages. When he found what he was looking for, he turned it around and showed Sawyer. He pointed to the specific body part they were discussing over dinner. “That should do it,” he coughed, “One switch strike and he’ll be down.”
“Aces,” Sawyer smiled.
“I honestly . ..thought when you and I were talking a few minutes ago . . .that you were going to kill him.”
“Now if I was, that would make you an accomplice, Doc.” The southern man smiled, “I wouldn’t like that and I doubt Jill would even less.”
“You really going to do this?” Jack asked.
Sawyer took a deep breathe and stood up, after leaning on the desk. “It has to be done, Jack,” the redneck muttered, “If anybody deserves happiness, it’s JoJo.”
“Why are you doing this, Sawyer?”
“I just told you why.”
“No, I believe you when you say Joscelyn deserves happiness but that’s a statement. That is not a why. WHY . .would you do this?”
Sawyer stared at him. He and Jack had come along way. They weren’t really friends but he was close enough in the redneck’s mind. Sawyer turned around and then gently sat down on a leather chair. He calmly pulled out his silver Zippo and twirled it in his fingers. “A few months ago . . . I tried to kill myself.” He whispered.
Jack stared at him with shocked eyes. Sawyer waited for him to say some thing but when he didn’t, he continued his story. “I figured, why the hell not, you know?” the redneck sighed, “Give me the chance to spare my loved ones, my sorry-ass life. I wouldn’t get the chance to screw theirs up. So I got in my living room, put a pistol to my head and pulled the trigger. But nothing happened. The gun misfired.”
“I am sure that’s common.” Jack told him.
“Not with a Glock, it ain’t, Jack. In fact, those things are designed not to misfire. Tony told me that a Bullet is an ounce of truth. Maybe . . .he was trying to tell me that gun spared me for a reason. Maybe .. . it’s because it’s THIS reason. Maybe, just maybe . .It’s my destiny to make sure the one innocent on the Island is never abused by her father again.”
Jack looked at him and felt a bit of pride down the redneck. Of course, he’d never admit that to him. The doctor crossed his arms and smirked. “Don’t mistake fate for coincidence?” he asked.
“Exactly,” Sawyer replied.
Jack shook his head in agreement. “Then good luck, Sawyer and God speed.” He said, extending his hand.
Sawyer stood up, and shook his head. “Thanks, Doc,” he smiled, and then proceeded to leave, “Put the spare key somewhere else next time.”
Jack just laughed as he heard the redneck finally leave his home.
Sawyer rested in the parking lot of the night club. He calmly smoked his third cigarette. He had called McKay and Shanna, making sure they were standing by to help him. The redneck admitted he missed the cherry redhead and looked forward to spending the night with her. He often wondered about having a life with her but did he really feel like he was the settling down type? He laughed as he flung the cigarette into the asphalt ahead of him. Then his cell phone rang. He calmly placed it to his ear. “Yeah?” he asked.
“He’s in a place called Studio 6, down in the Valley” Hurley whispered, “He’s in room 212 on the second floor. He already knows you are coming. Be careful, Sawyer and thank you.”
Hurley hung up the phone immediately, just in the off chance some police was listening. Sawyer hung up his phone and got into his Charger. He calmly started the engine and then exited the parking lot.
It was time to take the bastard out.
The small bell rang out as another patron walked into the diner. This particular patron was an old acquaintance of his from the Island. He wasn’t sure if the man considered him a friend but at the moment, it didn’t matter. The man knew he had helped him to win Joscelyn’s heart in a particular moment and he felt that was the reason he might agreed to help. “You’re not eating, Jabba,” Sawyer said as he sat down at the table, “That worries me.”
“I’m not hungry.” Hurley whispered.
“Yeah, I can imagine. After what happened to little JoJo, I am not sure I would want any food either.”
Hurley looked at him in surprise. Sawyer took a deep breath and sighed. “Ana-Lucia called me.” He told him.
“Then you know it was her own father that attacked her?”
“I find that hard to comprehend. But I believe you that it happened.” Sawyer leaned in, staring at the large man, “Now, pray tell, why did you call me here?”
Hurley took a deeper breath and sipped his coffee again. “Shortly after we were in the hospital with Joscelyn, she said she wanted her father . . . .removed from her life.” He coughed.
“Removed?” the redneck raised an eyebrow.
“Yes. And uh. . .the bastard then . . has the gall to call me on my cell and demand that I give him all of Joscelyn’s money. If I don’t, he’s going to do something worse to her and to Paige, not to mention her children.”
A vein to the right of Sawyer’s head began to twitch. The southern man had done a lot of things in his life that he wasn’t proud of but threatening children was something he considered evil. Hurley took another sip of his coffee and rubbed his cheek. “Outside in my truck is 5 leather bags,” he coughed, “Leather bags . . .filled with phone books. The scum bag doesn’t want me to deliver the money, he wanted someone else, because I am too high profile.”
“But you ain’t delivering the money; you are delivering phone books,” Sawyer pointed out.
“Actually, Sawyer . . .I was hoping you would make the delivery.”
Sawyer smiled as he looked at him. “I think I am staring to put the pieces of this jigsaw together,” he leaned back, “You want to take care of dear ol’dad, Jabba? I get to be your Boba Fett?”
Hurley then pulled out a white grocery bag. Inside was three manila envelopes, stuffed to the gorge. He then calmly slid the bag and the contents toward the southern man. “There is 2 million dollars in there,” he whispered, “Use it however you need to. Leave the country, whatever.”
Sawyer leaned up and opened the bag. He gently felt of one of the envelopes, seeing how tightly packed they were. Hurley then opened up his jacket and pulled out the photo of Joscelyn in her beaten state. He dropped it on the table in front of his friend. “If you need further convincing, take a look.” He whispered.
Sawyer picked up the photo. As he saw her crying face filled with bruises and red welts, he took a deep breathe. Never had he felt more rage in his life. “This . . .bastard . . .say where he wanted the money?” he asked.
“He’ll give me a call and then I’ll call you.”
Sawyer then took the photo and placed it in his own jacket. He then put his hand on the bag of money and calmly slid it back toward Hurley. The large man looked at the bag and then at Sawyer; his face filled with complete bewilderment. “Keep your money, big man,” he smirked, “Buy the Princess something night for Christmas. This job . . .I do for free.”
“Dude,” he said in astonishment, “You really have grown.”
“How kind of you to notice, “ He chuckled as he wrote down a number on a napkin, “That’s my cell phone. Call me when this son of a bitch gives you the location of the meet. I got to make some phone calls and go talk to somebody.”
“Thank you for this, Sawyer,” Hurley stood up and shook his head, “I hope you don’t get caught.”
“I ain’t gonna get caught cause I ain’t going to kill him.”
“Huh?” the large man gulped, “But I thought-“
“You want him removed, Jabba? I’m going to remove him.” He said, following him outside, “But my killing days are over.”
“Dude, I take back everything I said about you. You really have grown.”
Sawyer laughed as he opened up the truck on his Dodger Charger and began to put the leather bags into the back. He didn’t really consider Hurley a friend; not like McKay was his friend. However, the more he knew the big man, he more he grew to like him.
Jack opened the door to his house and took a deep breath. It had been a long taxing day. He had been able to help many people, including a poor old woman with a broken hip and a child with a screw driver stuck in his rib cage. But the unfortunate part was that during the whole day he couldn’t take his thoughts off Joscelyn. For a father to do that to his own daughter, was horrific to even comprehend. He then thought of his own father and the struggles he had with him. Then he remembered the story Locke told him of his own father as well. Why did it seem like a majority of them had daddy issues? Jack dropped his keys and then blinked when he heard a burp from his kitchen.
Jack then slowly walked from his living room into the kitchen and looked in. Sawyer took another swig of a small Pepsi as he calmly ate pizza at Jack’s dinner table. “Hey, doc, “ he smiled, “Have a seat. I saved you a few slices.”
“Sawyer, what .. .what you doing?” Jack demanded.
Sawyer blinked and shrugged his shoulders. “I’m composing a symphony. I’m eating pizza, Jack! What the hell do you think I am doing?”
“I see that you are eating pizza, “ the doc pinched the bridge of his nose, “What I meant what, why are you eating . . .no, scratch that, you’ll just give me another smart ass answer. How did you get in my house?”
The southern man shook some parmesan on his thin crust pizza and pointed to a key on the table. “Spare key above the door, Jack?” he laughed, “That is the first place robbers look.”
Jack rolled his eyes and considering Sawyer’s past, he was probably right. He calmly walked over toward the table and sat down. Sawyer smirked as he handed him the parmesan. The doctor took the bottle and doused a piece of pizza with it and proceeded to eat it. The southern man handed him a Pepsi when he then opened and took a sip out of it. Jack stared at the man with a slight mixture of annoyance and gratitude. “Thanks . . .for supplying dinner.” He grunted.
“Eat up, doc,” Sawyer burped again, “Then we’ll talk about why I am here.”
After they ate the majority of the pizza, they went into Jack’s study. The doctor opened up the anatomy book and browsed through it’s pages. When he found what he was looking for, he turned it around and showed Sawyer. He pointed to the specific body part they were discussing over dinner. “That should do it,” he coughed, “One switch strike and he’ll be down.”
“Aces,” Sawyer smiled.
“I honestly . ..thought when you and I were talking a few minutes ago . . .that you were going to kill him.”
“Now if I was, that would make you an accomplice, Doc.” The southern man smiled, “I wouldn’t like that and I doubt Jill would even less.”
“You really going to do this?” Jack asked.
Sawyer took a deep breathe and stood up, after leaning on the desk. “It has to be done, Jack,” the redneck muttered, “If anybody deserves happiness, it’s JoJo.”
“Why are you doing this, Sawyer?”
“I just told you why.”
“No, I believe you when you say Joscelyn deserves happiness but that’s a statement. That is not a why. WHY . .would you do this?”
Sawyer stared at him. He and Jack had come along way. They weren’t really friends but he was close enough in the redneck’s mind. Sawyer turned around and then gently sat down on a leather chair. He calmly pulled out his silver Zippo and twirled it in his fingers. “A few months ago . . . I tried to kill myself.” He whispered.
Jack stared at him with shocked eyes. Sawyer waited for him to say some thing but when he didn’t, he continued his story. “I figured, why the hell not, you know?” the redneck sighed, “Give me the chance to spare my loved ones, my sorry-ass life. I wouldn’t get the chance to screw theirs up. So I got in my living room, put a pistol to my head and pulled the trigger. But nothing happened. The gun misfired.”
“I am sure that’s common.” Jack told him.
“Not with a Glock, it ain’t, Jack. In fact, those things are designed not to misfire. Tony told me that a Bullet is an ounce of truth. Maybe . . .he was trying to tell me that gun spared me for a reason. Maybe .. . it’s because it’s THIS reason. Maybe, just maybe . .It’s my destiny to make sure the one innocent on the Island is never abused by her father again.”
Jack looked at him and felt a bit of pride down the redneck. Of course, he’d never admit that to him. The doctor crossed his arms and smirked. “Don’t mistake fate for coincidence?” he asked.
“Exactly,” Sawyer replied.
Jack shook his head in agreement. “Then good luck, Sawyer and God speed.” He said, extending his hand.
Sawyer stood up, and shook his head. “Thanks, Doc,” he smiled, and then proceeded to leave, “Put the spare key somewhere else next time.”
Jack just laughed as he heard the redneck finally leave his home.
Sawyer rested in the parking lot of the night club. He calmly smoked his third cigarette. He had called McKay and Shanna, making sure they were standing by to help him. The redneck admitted he missed the cherry redhead and looked forward to spending the night with her. He often wondered about having a life with her but did he really feel like he was the settling down type? He laughed as he flung the cigarette into the asphalt ahead of him. Then his cell phone rang. He calmly placed it to his ear. “Yeah?” he asked.
“He’s in a place called Studio 6, down in the Valley” Hurley whispered, “He’s in room 212 on the second floor. He already knows you are coming. Be careful, Sawyer and thank you.”
Hurley hung up the phone immediately, just in the off chance some police was listening. Sawyer hung up his phone and got into his Charger. He calmly started the engine and then exited the parking lot.
It was time to take the bastard out.
posted by Jason | 9:25 AM
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