Buried Treasure by Vincent Madison
Chapter 12
Buried Treasure
November 2004
Lieutenant Dennis Becker snapped his phone closed and stared for a few seconds. He did not want to be a dirty cop. He had a long record of good service on the force, but they had saved his sister. She would have died. Did die really. Even he did not know how they had saved her after the car accident. Drunk driver - head on. She did not stand a chance, yet out of nowhere, there was the man - bald with an old fashioned fedora. Said he could save her, but needed something in return. Did not say what at the time. He didn't care. He just wanted Jennifer back.
"They want the box. It's just an old rusty box. This is not a drug deal, or covering up a murder. I'm not a dirty cop. It's just a box." he thought to himself.
But Becker knew in his heart that it was not just a box. It was worth much more to someone.
He left the police station and got in his car. He punched in a text message that said: "Meet at Joker's Hill - 3pm." He pressed send.
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An island somewhere in the South Pacific - July 1977
A blue and white Volkswagen bus pulled up at a construction site. It had an octagonal logo on the front with the word DHARMA in the middle. The driver was an Asian man with the name "Miles" on his tan colored Dharma jumpsuit. He was accompanied by a large man with a head of curly hair with the name "Hurley" on his jumpsuit. They were greeted by another Asian man in a white lab coat.
"What is he doing here?" The man in the lab coat barked at Miles, gesturing to Hurley.
"Um, he came to deliver lunch to the work crew." Miles responded.
The man shot back: "Lunch? Your instructions were to come alone." He went to the back of the van where a large dark bag was - obviously a body bag.
"Don't worry. I won't tell anyone about the body." Hurley said.
The lab coat man was not impressed. - "He knows?"
Miles stammered - "I'm sorry, sir. He--he was rooting around in the back, and he saw it."
Hurley smiled. "Dude. I can keep a secret."
Lab coat man paused. "Well, you'd better..." He looked at Hurley's embroidered jumpsuit, reading his name... "Hurley", 'cause if you think working in the kitchen is bad--"
"I like the kitchen." Hurley responded cheerfully.
"Well, how do you feel about polar bear feces? Because if you breathe one word of this, I'll have you shipped to Hydra Island so you can weigh turds for their ridiculous experiments." Lab coat man made it clear he was not happy.
"Gross." Hurley's smile started to disappear.
Lab coat man sighed, then called over to two men--evidently not construction workers, as they wear tan jumpsuits and no hardhats. "You two! Get the package inside." The two men shuffled over to the van.
Lab coat man looked at Miles. "And you? Stay here till I get back. You think you can handle that?"
Miles looked down and mumbled: "Yes, sir." Lab coat man walked away.
The two Dharma men struggled with the bag. "What the hell's he got, Jimmy Hoffa in here?"
The second man responded - "I don't know."
The first man barked: "Lift him." and they took the body out of the van. Miles closed the hatchback. Hurley and Miles leaned against the back of the van and looked on as Lab Coat man berated a hard-hatted construction worker.
"Dude, that guy's a total douche." Hurley said.
"That douche is my dad." Miles explained. Hurley looked at Miles in disbelief.
Lab coat man continued to yell at the worker. "What the hell do you think you're doing? What are you doing?!"
The worker tried to explain that he had found something while digging.
"Well give it to me!" Lab coat man shouted. The man handed him a rusty old box - the same box that Peter Black had buried in 1944.
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Pierre Chang, the lab coat man was in his house on the island with the box on the table in front of him. He sat with a nervous looking thin man with long hair and a beard.
Chang spoke: "Daniel, we don't have much time. We have to get a message out. If we can make a film that explains what is going to happen here - maybe we can send the box to the future and they can prevent it."
The bearded man spoke. "Doctor Chang, I don't think it is any use. I'm not sure we can change anything."
Chang got agitated. "Well I'm not standing by without trying. Get the camera and start filming." Daniel reluctantly got up and walked to a film camera on a tripod.
"OK. You ready?" he asked.
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"OK" Chang said. "That's it. Now what?"
Daniel replied - "We put the film in the box, and bury it near where they are building the Swan Station."
"Why there?" Chang asked.
"Because the chances of us succeeding in getting the box to where we want it will be much better if we can tap into a huge power source." Daniel explained. "If everything works, the box will end up in the future where this film will explain what happened - uh - is going to happen here. We need something else though."
"Something else?" Chang asked.
"Yes - some object - a constant. It has to be something from here that is special to someone. I think I know what. I need to find Kate."
"You better hurry Daniel." Chang said. "We don't have much time."
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November 2004
Lieutenant Becker pulled through the gate at Joker's Hill. A light blue Ford was parked by the side of the driveway. Becker pulled up behind it. A tall bald man got out and approached Becker's car.
"Do you have the box?" The bald man asked in a monotone voice. Becker reached for the passenger seat and picked up the rusty box, handing it to the man.
"I don't want any trouble." Becker said. "I've given you what you want. Leave me alone now." The man took the box and did not respond to Becker's comment.
"You will tell no one about this box." The man droned in an almost hypnotic way. He turned and left with the box.
"Wait!" Becker shouted. "Who are you? What do you want with that box?" The bald man paused, but did not turn around. He spoke softly:
"We are the Widmore 6. We are responsible for making sure things unravel as they should. That is all you need to know."
He got in his car and drove off. Becker watched him drive away, noting the British Columbia license plate on the car. He pulled out his notepad and wrote the license plate number down and also wrote "Widmore 6".
As the bald man drove out of Joker's Hill, he opened his cell phone and punched a number.
"Mr Widmore?" he said. "I have the box. I will bring it to you now. Where will you be?" The voice on the other end of the phone told him where he would be. "Excellent. I'll be there in a half an hour." The bald man closed the phone.