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Chapter Eleven London – 2004 Locke was surprised when Charles Widmore allowed him in to see him the minute he gave his secretary his name. The last time Locke had seen Widmore was in 2007 and that hadn’t happened, yet. “Hello, John.” Widmore smiled at him. “Long time no see.” “You remember me?” Locke was shocked. Since Jack undid the plane crash, he should have never been on the island, and Widmore should have never met him before now. “Of course,” He looked at him in puzzlement. “Why shouldn’t I remember you? I met you in 1954.” Locke told him about Jack uncrashing the plane and changing everything. “Dr. Shephard may have changed what happened in this world, but everything that happened on the island still happened.” “I don’t understand.” Locke was trying to comprehend how two separate realities could exist. “How is that possible?” “Eloise told me she explained it to you.” Widmore revealed he’d been in contact with Hawking. “Dr. Shephard did nothing. It was the island. You’d served your purpose and it sent you on your way.” Seeing Locke still wasn’t getting it, he tried to explain it to him in simple terms. “On the island it’s 2007. The wreckage of flight 815 still litters the island. The encampment your people built is still there. Everything that happened on the island happened. That’s why you remember it. You experienced everything you experienced, then the island returned you to your plane moments before your plane crashed, only this time it didn’t.” “How can our plane wreckage be on the island?” Locke wanted to know. “When our plane landed safely?” “Because the plane that landed safely in Los Angeles,” Widmore told him, “Wasn’t flight 815. It was the duplicate plane I purchased to fake the crash of 815. I was told where to have the plane and when and the island took care of the rest. When the explosion occurred in the Swan it caused another time warp similar to the ones you experienced on the island. The ones that were in the epicenter when the explosion occurred along with all those who died on the island were catapulted back to the moment before the plane crashed on to the plane I had waiting, never realizing it wasn’t the same plane they originally boarded.” “Not all of us were put back on the plane.” Locke reminded him. “Yes,” Widmore looked like he was sucking on a lemon just thinking about that. “The island kept what belonged to it.” “You mean James.” Locke answered. “Where is James?” “He was catapulted to 2007.” Widmore explained. “Where he’s supposed to be.” “What about Sun, and Claire and Rose and Bernard?” Locked wanted to know. “Ms. Littleton didn’t time jump with the rest of you.” Charles explained. “She was in a place where the time jumps didn’t affect her. As for Sun, Rose and Bernard they weren’t near the epicenter so they stayed where they were on the island. Only those near the epicenter and the dead were returned to the plane.” He added. “You should know, I remember us meeting in 2007. I remember finding you in the Tunisian desert and helping you. That’s because it’s not really 2004, it’s 2007 here, as well.” “What are you talking about?” Locke stared at him like he was mad. “Of course, it’s 2004.” “If it is, why do I remember everything I said to you?” He wanted to know. “When that meeting took place in 2007. The time warp caused by the explosion in the Swan had a rippling affect out here. While the world at large believes it to be the year 2004, it’s really 2007. That’s why all those people from your flight are dying so fast. In 2007 they’re all dead. This time,” Widmore told him, “it isn’t the island that has traveled back in time, it’s the entire world. Everyone out here believes it’s 2004 when it’s really 2007 and course correction is trying to restore the natural order. That’s why all the people on your plane have to die.” “Why do only some of us remember?” Locke wanted to know. “The ones that are dead don’t remember,” Widmore replied, “Because their memory stops just before your plane crashed.” “Why do I remember?” Locke continued to hit Widmore with question after question. “I’m one of the dead.” “The difference is,” Widmore told him, “You died out here, while all the others from your flight died on the island. Dr. Shephard shouldn’t have tried to do what he did. Nobody gets a redo. We all have to live with the things we do. We can’t just erase them. The only thing he accomplished was making your plane land safely, otherwise all the people who died are still going to die, including yourself.” “Whatever happened,” Locke said with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, “happened.” “Exactly,” Widmore smiled at him. “Just why did you come to see me?” “I need your help.” Locke answered. “I need to find a man named Hibbs. He shared a history with James and I need to find out why he lied to James that that man Frank Duckett was the man he was looking for.” “I’m sure you already know why he did it.” Widmore gave him a speaking look. “Jacob.” Locke spat the name out like it was a curse. “I know why I hate Jacob.” Widmore’s curiosity was piqued. “But why do you?” “He paid my father to try to kill me,” Locke explained, “Before I was born.” “That wasn’t actually Jacob who did that.” Widmore shocked Locke by revealing. “That was Samuel.” “Who’s Samuel?” Locke wanted to know. “There are two entities on the island.” Widmore informed him. “Samuel likes to keep his presence hidden and often he’ll take on the form of Jacob to make someone think Jacob is behind something that he’s actually done.” “Why would this Samuel want me to die,” Locke wanted to know, “before I was even born.” “Oh, he didn’t want you to die.” Widmore assured him. “He just wanted you to be near death so he could heal you.” “Why would he want to heal me?” Locke was even more confused than ever. “So he could alter you.” Charles disclosed. “Samuel doesn’t do anything out of the goodness of his heart. He always has a price tag attached to whatever good he does.” “What do you mean,” Locke suddenly felt sick to his stomach, “he altered me.” “Why do you think you were so devoted to the island?” Charles threw back at him. “There wasn’t anyone you wouldn’t betray or sacrifice for the island. Ben is the same way. That’s because he did the same to Ben when he was a boy when he was near death.” Locke suddenly felt like an alien in his own body. “Why would he do that to me?” “Samuel needed a way to kill Jacob.” Charles explained. “And you and Ben were his loophole. Of course, for it to work, he needed you to die. “Why did he need me to die?” The more he was finding out, the sicker he was getting. “So he could be you.” Widmore answered. “Samuel likes to take on different forms to manipulate people. He needed you dead and your body returned to the island so he could con Ben into thinking he was you and get Ben to kill Jacob for him.” He added. “Jacob has, or should I say had, the same ability but he doesn’t like to use it if he doesn’t have to.” “Then there’s no way of telling which of them did what.” Locke realized. “Everything that was done to Mr. Ford,” Widmore told him. “Was done by Jacob, and everything that’s been done to you has been done by Samuel.” “How do you know all this?” Locke wanted to know. “In 2007,” Locke recalled. “You told me a war was coming to the island and I needed to be on the island so the right side would win.” “Yes,” Charles replied. “And you were. You were right there when Samuel needed you.” He added, “Since it’s already happened, I suppose I should tell you I wasn’t entirely honest with you. What I should have said is we needed you to start the war, not to win it.” “What are you talking about?” Locke wanted to know. “Without you,” Widmore explained, “Samuel wouldn’t have been able to kill Jacob. And now that Jacob’s gone a war will begin between Samuel and the island’s Chosen. And my money’s on Samuel.” “You’ve been helping Samuel.” Locke realized. “What’s in it for you?” “Once all the Others are dead,” Widmore revealed, “Samuel is going to let me come back home where I belong.” “How do you know he’ll keep his promise?” Locke pointed out. “From what you said, this Samuel isn’t the most trustworthy ally to have.” “I don’t,” Widmore answered, “but it’s more than Jacob has offered. Jacob is the one that got me exiled from the island and let Benjamin Linus usurp my position on the island.” “How do you know it was Jacob?” Locke threw back at him. “You said Samuel likes to pretend to be Jacob. What if he’s the one who got you exiled from the island so you’d do his bidding for him.” “If that’s the case,” Widmore was suddenly filled with the same sick feeling Locke was, “then I’ve been a fool.” “We’ve all been a fool.” Locke told him. “But I don’t intend to be one anymore. Can you tell me where Hibbs is?” “You still want to see him?” Widmore was shocked. “Why? Jacob is dead. What does it matter what he did to Mr. Ford?” “When I see James,” Locke told him, “I want to be able to tell him the truth of everything the island has done to him. He needs to know that none of the things he’s done is his fault. That the island has been manipulating his life since he was a child.” “You’re going back to the island?” Widmore asked. “I’m going to get James off that island.” Locke replied, “And then I’m going to kill Samuel.” He added. “If Jacob can be killed, so can he.” “You’re a fool.” Widmore declared. “The island will never let that boy go, and if you come back Samuel will kill you.” “Not if I kill him, first.” Locke smiled. “I’m nobody’s fool. Not anymore.” Los Angeles – 2004: Libby used some of her late husband’s connections to get herself a copy of the flight manifest for flight 815. Sometimes it paid to have been a rich man’s darling. Unfortunately, she began to wish she hadn’t gotten it when she saw all the names Hurley had given her were listed on the manifest. There was no way he could possibly know all these people’s names, unless what he was telling her was the truth. It wasn’t possible. She rejected the truth that was staring her in the face. There was no way their plane could crash on some tropical island and land safely in Los Angeles. It just wasn’t possible. There had to be some other way Hugo knew all these people’s names. She was still trying to come up with some kind of rational explanation when her attention was drawn to the television. “The Curse of Flight 815,” the news anchorman declared in ominous tones. “If you were a passenger on flight 815, should you start worrying about your mortality? Several people who were on flight 815 are now lying on a slab in the county morgue. Amongst the dead are: former lead singer of Drive Shaft, Charlie Pace, who drowned in the swimming pool of his hotel, socialite Shannon Rutherford who was shot to death by her stepmother, wedding planner, Sabrina Carlyle, and Mrs. Carlyle’s son, Boone Carlyle, who was also on flight 815.” “The deaths seem to begin with a freak ten-car pile-up on the freeway.” He continued. “Many members from flight 815 were involved in the crash; amongst them was flight 815’s pilot, Seth Norris. The only victims involved in this accident were passengers from 815. None of the victims of this crash survived.” “And the strangeness doesn’t stop there.” He went on. “It seems several passengers on 815 disappeared en flight. We have on the phone with us a member of the flight crew who wishes to remain anonymous. To protect our caller’s identity, we’ll refer to her as Jane Doe. Jane, tell us what happened on flight 815.” They should have used one of those voice distortions, because with that Australian accent, Libby knew it was Cindy the flight attendant on the phone. “We ran into trouble,” Cindy began, “And for a moment there it looked like we were going to crash. Then there was this bright flash of light and everything was fine, again. Only it wasn’t.” “What happened next?” The anchorman prompted her to continue with her story. “This Asian man,” she went on, “his name is Jin Kwon. He said his wife was missing. We searched the plane and we didn’t find her. That’s when I noticed several other passengers were missing, as well. But Oceanic doesn’t want anyone to know about it.” “Can you give us a list of their names?” The anchorman asked. “Yes,” she told him. “Our pilot, Seth Norris, told us to do a head count. We were five passengers short.” She listed their names. “They were all missing from the middle section of the plane.” “We’ve obtained pictures of the missing passengers.” The anchorman said as pictures of Sawyer, Claire, Sun, Rose and Bernard flashed on screen, “From their passport photos.” “That’s not all.” Cindy continued. “You’re going to think I’m crazy, but the plane we landed in wasn’t the same one we took off in.” She began to cry. “I’m scared. I don’t know what happened to us on that flight, but whatever it is, I don’t think it’s over. I don’t think it’ll be over until we’re all dead.” Libby picked up the remote and clicked off the television. She didn’t want to hear anymore. The more she heard, the harder it was to deny that Hurley was telling the truth. That everything he said happened had happened. The five people Cindy said disappeared from the flight were the same five Hurley said had said were back on the island. She couldn’t let her believe what he was saying was true, because if it was, that meant she was going to die, too. Hurley had said a man named Michael Dawson would kill both her and a woman named Ana-Lucia Cortez. Libby jumped when the phone rang. She was glad for the distraction. Anything to get her to stop thinking about the things Hurley said. Things that were starting to appear to be true. “Hello?” “Hi, Lib,” Her co-worker Jim replied. “I need you to do me a favor.” “What is it, Jim?” She asked, grateful for whatever he was going to ask her to do. “I’m supposed to do a psych exam on someone in L.A. County lock-up.” He told her. “But I think it might work better if the examining doctor was a woman given the history of the perp.” “And you want me to do it.” She smiled. “Sure, no problem. What’s the perp’s name and when do I have to be there.” “Thanks, Lib, you’re the greatest.” He laughed. “You actually may have heard of her. The press is calling her the Vigilante Cop. She was pregnant when a perp shot her and caused her to have a miscarriage. When they brought the perp in for a line-up she lied that it wasn’t him, and then she tracked him down and shot him. Her mother’s a top cop and she’s trying to get her off on diminished capacity.” “I’ve been a little busy with a patient at Santa Rosa.” She told him. “I haven’t heard about her. So what’s her name and when do I have to be there?” “Tomorrow afternoon at three,” He answered. “Just tell County lock-up you’re there to see Ana-Lucia.” The phone slipped from her hand when she heard that name. “Hey, Lib?” Jim called from the receiver. “Are you there? Are you all right?” “Yes,” she picked the receiver up from the floor. “I’m fine. What did you say her name was?” “Ana-Lucia Cortez.” He replied. “Is there a problem?” “No,” she lied, “There’s no problem.” That was just the name of the woman she was supposed see killed before she was killed, herself.
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