Following Orders

“Lieutenant Fehr.” The voice stopped him as he neared the cell, turned him around. He managed to hold his anger in check as the man who had yesterday ordered him to tear the information from Sayid nodded towards his office. Oded followed him without comment, stood neatly before the desk, his hands eyes fixed on the report that lay on top of the battered wood. His own neat handwriting stared back at him, mocking. Had the dispassionate phrasing he had so carefully chosen done it’s trick? And the note at the end, expressing his opinion that the prisoner had outlived his usefulness, and should be dealt with appropriately? He had agonised over that part for so many hours. If he suggested Sayid’s “removal” and his superiors had already thought of it, then it was most likely that he would be put in charge of the task. Ample opportunity for him to “lose” the prisoner. Perhaps even lose himself, at the same time or very shortly afterwards. That had been preying on his mind also, as he had stared at the ceiling for what seemed like the longest, darkest part of the night. He was not a free man, he had signed a contract. But the…reason…he had signed the contract was gone now, gone beyond harm, and with him the necessity to keep his end of the bargain. So if Sayid was able to run, there was little to stop him following.

Yet if his recommendation was one which his superiors had not yet pondered…he may have just condemned Sayid to death. For every handful of prisoners who were tossed out on the streets to starve and rot there, there were an equal number who were shot. Usually those who were deemed well enough to potentially survive on their own, and who may even become a danger again. Given Sayid’s present condition, he was likely considered part of the former group. His injuries, the ones inflicted by others and the ones Oded had inflicted a mere day before all combined to create a fearful-looking state, and while Oded truly believe Sayid could recover, given time, given care, his captors may not. But if they believed him to be well enough to live…the thoughts began to chase each other round and round inside Oded’s head, and he pushed them down, waiting. He would not know the answer until his Colonel spoke, and so he waited for the man to take his seat.

“You believe the prisoner has nothing further to tell us?” Straight to the point, as always. “The prisoner”, not “Sayid”, or even just “he”. Distant, but then, he had probably never even seen Sayid. Never seen the warmth that those dark eyes could hold, the pride that had somehow managed to burn on through everything that had been done to him. Sayid was just a number as far as they were concerned, a sheet of information. The thought added fuel to the slow burn of anger in the pit of Oded’s stomach and he flattened his hands against his thighs to keep them from clenching into fists.

“No Sir. I believe that had he any further knowledge, he would have spoken after yesterday.” he waited, managed not to hold his breath as the Colonel once more flicked through the report then closed it, placed it back down on the desk and looked up at Oded.

“Very well. I assume I can leave his relocation to your discretion?” the words were light, easy, as though they were not intended to condemn a man to slow, agonising death. Oded gave a sharp nod in response, all his concentration on keeping his relief from showing. His decisions on the disposal of prisoners had always been respected in the past, there had been no reason to suppose it would not be this time, yet the nagging fear had not left him from the moment he had signed the report.

“Yes Sir.” There was no further comment, no further command, and so he saluted, turned on his heel, made his way to the door.

The plan was already forming in his mind, tentative and full of holes, but it was there. Attempting to free Sayid from the base would be out of the question, it was simply too dangerous. As was affecting an escape on the long drive to the open lands where the prisoner was to be left. But after that, when the car stopped and they were to throw Sayid to the side of the road.

Each “excursion” involved three people - one who had worked with the prisoner, the prisoner himself, and a guard. Oded knew exactly who he wished to drive out with them. He’d noticed many times past that certain of those he worked with seemed unusually compliant when given orders. More than simple loyalty, they obeyed the smallest command without question, almost as though they had no choice. Any of these would be so much less likely to question him, question any small inconsistencies in behaviour. And if this were to work, with almost no planning, work on nothing but hope and luck and sheer desperation, then he needed every advantage possible on his side.

Perhaps the fates were on his side, perhaps someone was listening to his prayers, for the very man he had hoped for was standing outside Sayid’s door.

“David.” he greeted the other soldier warmly, and David smiled. He was a few years younger than Oded, barely out of his teens, and the smile made him look even younger.

“Oded. It has been a long time.” he remarked casually after saluting. Oded was superior to him in rank, and this would make the task so much easier. “Are you to handle this prisoner personally?” he asked, jerking his head towards the door. The grille was open, and Oded caught a glimpse through it of a figure huddled against the far wall, but he dare not allow his eyes to linger.

“Indeed I am. Will you accompany me, my friend?” The words had to be just the right tone. It was essential that David did not realise this was any different from any other time he had relocated a prisoner, did not realise that it meant anything to Oded, let alone how much. Yet on the other hand he must not turn Oded down, must not feel able to simply produce some suitable reason and refuse. David gave the same sharp crisp nod that Oded had used earlier, agreement without emotion, and opened the door.

There was no time to explain the plan to Sayid. Not time to spill reassuring words into his ear, to even reassure himself that the terror that rose in those dark eyes was all show, for the benefit of the third man in the room. That it was not true fear that Oded had betrayed him, was about to destroy him. Oded crossed the room, pulled Sayid to his feet. He was careful to try and avoid the worst of the injuries, as though there was anywhere could touch that would not bring pain, but from where David stood it must have looked like a harsh jerk as Sayid stumbled against him. The too large jacket fell from the prisoner’s shoulders, lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, and Oded forced himself to remain silent as he led Sayid towards the door. The smaller man leant heavily on him, and Oded prayed that it was deliberate, that Sayid knew what he must do. If he were truly so desperately injured, it would make the plan so much more difficult. If it could be called a plan, a half formed desperate idea that he fought to keep from showing on his face. Sayid stumbled once more, and David caught him from the other side. The three of them made their way down the corridor in silence, Sayid being half dragged by the time they reached outside. A row of shinning cars stood in a semi-circle, and David walked towards a booth, tucked into the shade, and exchanged quiet words with the soldier sat there. He was handed some keys, and a gesture was made to the car nearest them.

“Trust me.” Oded whispered as David crossed the duty ground back towards them. Sayid looked up, and the fear and sorrow in his expression tore at Oded’s heart. But then David was back with them, and there was no more time, nothing to do except shove Sayid into the bask seat of the car, lock the door after him and climb into the front. Oded took the driver’s seat, waiting until David was in to start the engine. He glanced in the rear view mirror, pretended to check the road he already knew was clear, and met Sayid’s eyes. They were dull, pain sparking in the depths, but whether the pain was physical or…other, he could not tell.

The drive to the edge of the city had never seemed longer. Oded was careful to keep the conversation between himself and David light, causal, on safe neutral topics that would leave David with no idea as to Oded‘s intentions. Sayid said nothing, but there were occasional moans from the backseat as the wheels of the car, despite Oded’s best efforts, seemed to catch every pothole in the badly uneven road.

Then they were there, beyond the city limits, bare land stretching for a good distance in all directions. For a healthy man, the walk back to the city was taxing, a challenge, but far from being an impossible distance. Oded had done it himself more than a few times, when a car engine had refused to start, or when a vehicle was not available and an errand had to be run. But to someone who had spent upwards of a week surviving on barely enough food, someone who was not only dangerously weak but likely injured too, the trek was a death sentence.

David got out of the car first, held his hand out to Oded for the keys. Oded pulled them from the ignition, threw them for him, then circled casually behind David, ostensibly cutting off Sayid’s escape route. David opened the door, reached in to haul Sayid out. As he bent down Oded’s hand came up to his neck, fast, caught him hard.

It felt unworthy, to pull such a trick, to play friend to a man and then attack him. But Oded could think of no better way, no other way. And after all, David had come here today with the intention of leaving Sayid to die, was it really so bad to leave him under the hot sun for a few hours? A nagging voice reminded him that as little as a month ago, he might have been carrying out the same duty. How did he know that this man did not have a brother, a cousin, a son he was trying to protect by serving his time? He told the voice rather curtly to quiet itself, and hurried to move the man away, to the side of the road, propping him up against a rock where they would have undoubtedly left Sayid. Second thoughts made him reach into the car, pull out a bottle of water that he tossed into the unconscious soldier’s lap. It would be warm by the time he came to, but it would still serve it’s purpose on the long, dry walk back to civilisation. He plucked the car keys from where they had fallen beside David, flipping them over and over in his palm.

Then he turned back to the car, saw Sayid sprawled on the back seat. He looked up at Oded with confused eyes, then glanced back down at David.

“I don’t understand.” he said softly.

This was the final choice. The final moment in which Oded could turn back. Could drive off, leave Sayid. Could allow Sayid to vanish, claim that the prisoner attacked both him and David, and that he had been unable to recapture Sayid. Or he could go on, with Sayid. He looked one last time at David, then back into the car. There he met the wordless gaze that said everything he needed to hear, and climbed back into the driver’s seat.

The drive took less than an hour, but every moment of it felt like eternity. Oded glanced several times into the backseat, saw Sayid curled up there, still flinching every time the car hit a dip in the road.

“Sayid…” he tried, but the prisoner only curled further in on himself. Finally he gave up, decided he would wait, could wait, until they reached their destination. But the thoughts weighed heavy on his mind. Did Sayid truly believe himself betrayed? Did he still think that Oded was taking him somewhere to kill him? For even with everything that had passed between them, they had never actually discussed an escape. It had been mentioned, sworn even on Oded’s part, but he had not stated how he would accomplish it. Had barely known himself, but that did not help to improve the situation.

Oded stopped the car outside what seemed at first to be little more than a well organised pile of rubble. He climbed out of the car, opened the door to the back, and held out a hand to Sayid.

“Please, my friend, trust me a little longer?” he asked, and Sayid took the hand, allowed himself to be helped to his feet. His legs would barely support him and Oded forced himself to ignore the whimper as he wrapped his arm around Sayid’s waist, guided him forwards.

While the exterior of the house had been reduced to rubble the rooms to the rear stood intact, and it was towards those that Oded led Sayid. It took a moment to lower him safely to the floor, allowing him to rest against the wall. “I will be but a moment.” Oded reassured him, waiting to see if there would be an answer. When there was none, he left anyway, returning to the car. He took as much as he could carry from the boot - blankets, food, water. All of these were kept stocked in the cars, the risk of them break down in the rather literal middle of nowhere was too great to risk without them, but Oded thought with a wry smile that his superiors had probably never assumed they would be used for this purpose.

Sayid hadn’t moved since Oded left the room, but he looked up when the other man knelt beside him, lay down his burdens.

“You’re not going to kill me, are you?” he asked, voice still slightly confused, as though he desperately wished to believe but could not quite.

“You believed I would?” Oded could not quite keep the hurt from his own voice. Sayid’s logic was flawless, but he had hoped that the other man would somehow understand his intentions. A hand rested over his own and he looked down at it, watched the slender fingers wrap around his. He turned to Sayid, met dark eyes, reached out to cup his cheek. Sayid leant into the touch, tilting his head and licking his lips. Slowly Oded brought their mouths together, so very slowly, felt Sayid’s lips part under his as the grip on his hand tightened. Sayid shifted, trying to move closer, and Oded let his hand drop from the other man’s cheek to his waist, holding on. Sayid trembled, but for once there was no fear, just quick-drawn gasps of breath, warm against Oded’s skin, and sheer wonder in the wide eyes.

There was no need to look back now. Later, they would have to look forwards. Plan, organise, prepare. But for now, there was only this moment.