Athena thought back to the day when her uncle Tom (technically he wasn't really her uncle; he and her father had been best friends and as long as Athena had known him she had called him uncle Tom.) had come to their house while she was getting ready for school. Her parents had left for their jobs and thirteen year old Athena was all alone having her breakfast. Tom had told her that she wasn't to go to class that day. She had asked why and all he had told her was that something was going to happen in a short while. He had taken her to his house several doors down from them and locked the doors and pulled down all the shades on the windows. Athena felt a mixture of fear and fascination as she watched him. Life with the Dharma Initiative had become too ordered and mundane. She was glad for the change whatever it was. The fear won out when Tom handed her a gas mask and put one on himself. “What's going on?” Athena asked. “Are my mom and dad okay? Why did they go to work if something bad was going to happen?” Tom looked at her. “Don't worry about them. They made their choice.” What did that mean? Athena looked at him questioningly but said nothing.
Some time later Athena sat on Tom's tan suede couch with her knees tucked up against her chest. She thought about her parents and what might be happening and had to fight back tears. She wished she at least knew what was going on. Tom had forbid her to look out the windows or go to the door. He also had said she couldn't take off the mask yet. Athena hoped she could remove it soon. The rubber smelled funny and it made her face sweat. She turned as Tom lifted one of the shades and peered out, then motioned for her to come with him. She wasn't prepared for what she saw when they stepped outside and walked to the main quad of the “town”. Bodies in Dharma jumpsuits or dark pants and logo t-shirts lay sprawled on the grass, the steps of houses, and the benches in the quad. From the looks on their faces death had not been pleasant. Her heart began to beat fast as she wondered if she and Tom were the only ones left alive. “What happened?” she asked. “It's..” Tom began to answer then stopped as he saw someone coming across the grass. It was Ben Linus. He was also wearing a gas mask and didn't seem upset in the least. He was joined several moments later by another man wearing a mask. This man wasn't in Dharma uniform. He paused and looked around, then took off his mask. Ben followed suit almost immediately. Tom looked at them and did the same. He nodded to Athena and she gratefully removed her gas mask.
She looked around and saw several other people coming out of nearby buildings. None of them were her parents. Panic began to rise inside her the longer she stood there. Ben walked over to a man slumped on a bench and gently closed his eyes. The name on his jumpsuit was Horace. This was the first sign of compassion Athena had seen him show. The seeming coldness with which Ben had acted since “the event” had taken place bothered her. She knew his father was part of the Dharma group. Why wasn't he concerned about him? This thought brought her back to concern about her own parents. “Where are my mom and dad?” she called out. “Are they dead too?” She wanted to run off and try to find them but Tom kept a firm grip on her arm, holding her there. “Why is everyone dead? What did they do wrong?” She felt very lost and alone at that moment. “Would someone shut that brat up.” Ben said. Tom shot him a warning look.
“Have some compassion Ben.” The dark haired man not in Dharma clothes said. He was very good looking and had kind eyes. Athena now knew his name was Richard Alpert and that he was a native of the island. At the time he was just another stranger, likely one of the “hostiles”. Had they been responsible for this? “She's just lost her family.” Richard said. Ben didn't seem affected by this. (Athena understood this reaction now after learning that he had killed his own father the day of the purge without batting an eye or shedding a tear.) Hearing Richard's statement made Athena realize that her parents really were dead. She began to shake and tears ran down her cheeks. Tom put an arm around her to comfort her and she sagged against him, hiding her face against the solid wall of his chest.
Forcing back those memories Athena set the aspirin bottle on the small coffee table and sipped her tea. To this day she had a love-hate relationship with Ben Linus. She hadn't been sorry to see the Dharma Initiative taken over. All the innocent lives that were taken was another story. She had been shocked as she watched the corpses being dumped with no ceremony into the mass pit grave that had been prepared for them. Numb to everything she sat in the spare bedroom in Tom's house and cried.
Chapter 3
That evening she was lying in bed when she heard voices coming from the living room. Quietly she got up and crept to the stairs to listen. Tom was there of course, along with Ben, Richard Alpert, Danny Pickett, Paul Goodwin, and Ethan Rom. “What's going to happen to the girl?” Pickett asked. “She'll stay with me.” Tom replied. “Her parents would have wanted that.” Mention of her parents brought new tears to her eyes. “I still don't know why you spared her.” Ben said. “She expressed disillusionment with the Dharma Initiative.” Richard Alpert said.
Just keep her out of the way." Ben said. "Out of the way of what?" Tom asked. "So far everything has gone according to plan. I won't tolerate any interference." Athena felt a cold chill go through her as she heard this last statement. Had Ben somehow been behind the killings? "See that she stays here in the house if she's going to be crying and upset." Ben continued. "I lost my father and you don't see me all broken up about it."
"You can't compare your situation to Athena's" Richard said. "You were angry at your father and you wanted him dead."
“I had a right to be angry.” Ben said. “All my life he treated me like I was a nuisance and continually blamed me for my mother's death. Try growing up with someone like that and not hating him.”
“Just because your father was a jerk and drowned his sorrows in the bottle most of the time and you had no qualms about killing him doesn't mean that everyone feels that way about what happened.” Tom said. “Peter and Melena Alexandrou were good people. I've known them for a long time and I'm sorry it had to end this way for them. I guess they were too idealistic and believed in Dharma too much for their own good.” Athena shivered hearing the hurt in Tom's voice as he spoke.
She felt numb inside, and cold even though the house was comfortably warm. Ben was only in his mid twenties and already he had so much anger and resentment. She couldn't imagine anyone actually killing their own parents. She had met Roger Linus on several occasions and agreed with her father's assessment of him as being a prick and a lush (she didn't know what the first term meant but assumed it was something bad like a jerk or an ass.). That didn't mean he should be killed for it though. Athena listened to the rest of the meeting then crept back to bed. At least she wouldn't be taken from her uncle Tom. He would protect her and see that she didn't end up in the mass grave with her family.
Chapter 4
“I've heard about the purge.” Mikhail said. “I was under the impression that no Dharma people survived.” Athena looked at him. “A few did. Those that were tired of the Initiative's rules and order and sided with the island natives.” Mikhail sipped his tea noting the sad look on her face and the way she gripped her mug as she spoke. “I take it your parents weren't part of the lucky few.”
“No they weren't. They believed in Dharma too much to side with the hostiles and their sympathizers.” Mikhail set his mug down. “Yet you were spared.” Athena forced back the tears that were forming. She looked out at the rain pouring in sheets, feeling as unsettled as the weather. “I was thirteen at the time of the purge. I thought Dharma was too strict. I guess when I was complaining about it the right people heard me.” She turned back to Mikhail. His eye patch fascinated her. She tried to think of the ways a person could lose an eye and not end up with any other facial disfigurement. “I hope you don't mind my asking, but how did you...” Her question trailed off as she wondered if it was really impolite to ask it. “How did I lose my eye?” Mikhail said. He had a half smile on his face and thankfully didn't look offended. “It's kind of a long story.” He picked up his mug. “It happened when I was in the Soviet military.”
Athena had suspected as much. "I bet you get a lot of questions about your injury." Mikhail nodded. "I did at first. Since I came to this island, not so much." He paused. "It used to bother me until I realized how lucky I was. I had comrades who lost limbs or had parts of their faces blown off. My injury is really nothing in comparison." He forced back memories of his time in the army hospital. All around him had been suffering and death. The man in the bed next to him had had both legs and part of an arm amputated. Mikhail felt that that man and others looked at him wondering how he had gotten off so easily when they were seriously disfigured.
He turned to Athena. "I was as I said before a medic in the Soviet army. During my third year of duty I was recruited for a special assignment in the intelligence division. It was a great honor and of course I accepted." Mikhail remembered the day he had been called into the office of his CO Colonel Vladimir Belyakov. He knew it had to be something important. The Colonel never asked to see you privately for trifling matters.
Mikhail stepped into the office and was surprised to see Colonel Joseph Subarov, the head of the military intelligence service in the room with Colonel Belyakov. "Have a seat Lieutenant." Belyakov said. "Yes Comrade Colonel." Mikhail sat. "This is Colonel Subarov from the intelligence division." Belyakov said indicating the man next to him. "Colonel." Mikhail saluted. "I bet you're wondering why you were called here today." Subarov said. "Yes Comrade Colonel." Colonel Subarov opened the thick folder in front of him.
"You have a spotless record Lieutenant Bakunin." he said. "That is why you were recommended for this special assignment." Mikhail listened intently. Being singled out for your service record and given a special assignment was a great honor. "You may or may not know that there is an important peace conference coming up. A conference it would be in the Soviet Union's best interest to have cancelled." Colonel Subarov continued. "You can read the full briefing here." he handed Mikhail a folder. Mikhail opened it and read.
The conference was set to take place at a private resort called the Odessa club that was built on the Greek island of Vrakonisi. Mikhail had heard of Odessa but didn't know much about it except that a number of high ranking government officials were members. Delegates from many of the major world powers would be attending. (The ones of most concern, underlined in red were the Chinese and the Koreans. The Americans were also underlined but in green. Thanks to MAD, unless their government did something incredibly stupid they were of little concern.)
The intelligence team was to pose as security for the Russian delegate. Mikhail looked at the listed names for the delegation and frowned. Heading the group was Sergei Ivanov, a pompous bureaucrat, and from what Mikhail had heard a generally unpleasant man. He had many highly placed friends in the communist party. What was worse was that he was also a staunch nationalist who believed in the superiority of Russians over the other ethnic minorities in the Soviet Union, including Ukranians. The other members of the party were of no concern. The plan was to use a specially created viral agent to sicken some of the delegates. The ensuing concerns about a possible outbreak starting should be enough to stall the conference for a long time. Mikhail would be assigned to a listening post a ways away from the resort to monitor the other attendees and all comings and goings to the island. He was relieved to read this. Killing someone in battle was one thing. Espionage and being an assassin was quite another. (attempted assassin technically. No one was supposed to get killed.)
“Any questions?” Colonel Subarov asked. “Just one Comrade Colonel.” Mikhail replied. “Why is Military Intelligence running this operation instead of the KGB?” He had been wondering this ever since he had entered the office and seen Subarov there. This seemed more like the KGB's thing than something for Intelligence. Subarov frowned. “The Kremlin doesn't trust the KGB to carry out this assignment. I personally don't blame them.” He paused. “You can be sure Comrade Kirov isn't pleased about this. If something important comes up he and his agency have to be involved in it.” Oleg Kirov was the head of the KGB and a personal rival of Subarov's. (It was a known fact that military Intelligence and the KGB had been involved in a long standing pissing contest over which agency was the better intelligence service.) Mikhail looked back at the folder in his hands. He was grateful he would not have to be in the actual resort during the conference. The less he had to do with Ivanov the better. “Why was I chosen for this assignment?” He asked Colonel Subarov. “You have been a loyal and trusted soldier and you have expertise in communications technology.” Subarov answered. Mikhail nodded. “I'll do my best to serve, Comrade Colonel.” And he meant it. Mikhail was glad of the chance to get out of Vladivostok and away from the listening post he had been assigned to. This new assignment would be a challenge. He was more than ready for it.
Chapter 5
A few days later Mikhail sat at a bank of computers in the monitoring station on Vrakonisi. It was a small whitewashed building made to look like a fisherman's shack on the edge of the resort property near the sea. Mikhail was alone except for the other surveillance person, a young man named Yuri Simonov.
The first two days he had been there were spent monitoring the comings and goings at the island's harbor. So far there hadn't been anything unexpected. Today he was actually going to get to do some reconnaissance work. The orders had just come in that he was to get as close to the resort as possible and take pictures of what he could. His cover was as a peasant beach comber. Mikhail changed into a pair of Greek style cotton pants and a cotton tunic and covered his military brush cut with a longer haired wig. He put on a small worn pack that contained his camera and supplies and left the hut.
He set out across the small strip of beach leading towards the harbor and began to climb the rocky outcropping that led to the resort's entrance. (There was a less treacherous entrance to the compound on the other side of the island but it was totally exposed and almost guaranteed that he would be seen and likely shot at.) Mikhail concentrated on avoiding the sharp crags that seemed to jut out every few feet. The stones were slippery and it was very slow going. He stopped to brush some strands of sweaty hair out of his face and nearly fell as he saw someone standing on a rocky outcropping a short distance away.
Mikhail cursed softly. He had a pistol in an ankle holster but he was in no position to get it now. The man was very tall, with wavy dark hair. He was dressed similarly to Mikhail and looked to be around the same age. Thankfully he didn't appear to be armed. He said something in Greek. When there was no response from Mikhail he called out again in English. “Be careful. These rocks can be treacherous.” The man had a deep voice and from his accent Mikhail was sure he was an American. “I am trying to be careful.” Mikhail answered, also in English. Almost as soon as he had spoken his foot slipped again. He cursed softly and made his way even more slowly to the rocky ledge where the American still stood. What he was doing on the island was a puzzle. American tourists weren't uncommon in Greece but they were usually found in the big cities like Athens or major islands like Crete. On a small semi-private island like this finding any tourists was rare and finding Americans was even less likely. Mikhail had no way to prove his hunch but he was almost sure this American was there for the same reason he was.
He made it to the ledge and sighed with relief as he stepped onto the smooth rock. “What brings you to a remote place like this?” The American asked. “I'm on holiday.” Mikhail answered. “I could ask you the same question.” The American smiled. “I am also on holiday.” He paused. “This is kind of an unusual place to come for relaxation, wouldn't you say?” Mikhail nodded. “It's not a normal tourist destination, no. I came here to photograph native birds. It's how do you say, a hobby” The American nodded. “There are definitely some unusual species of birds on this island. Very rare and even dangerous.” Mikhail was more sure than ever now that the American was an intelligence agent.
He watched as the tall man took a bottle of water out of his pack and had a drink.”Care for some water? It's important to keep hydrated on climbs like this.” He offered the bottle to Mikhail. He hesitated then took it. Since the other man had drunk from it with no ill effects it was unlikely anything had been added to it. He took a drink then handed the bottle back. “Thank you.” The American nodded. “You're from Russia, correct?” Mikhail looked at him then answered with a slight hesitation. “From the Ukraine actually.” It was a minor nitpick considering that the Ukraine was part of the Soviet Union, still national pride ran deep.(That was part of the reason he was glad to avoid Ivanov as much as possible.) “My accent gave me away?” he asked. The American smiled. “You might say that. I'm from the good old USA where we don't think we have an accent, until we go abroad that is.” Mikhail smiled in spite of himself. “I do believe we're both on the same sort of holiday.” The American said, giving Mikhail a knowing look. Mikhail nodded. He got the message clearly. “Yes. I believe we are.” The American looked up at the top of the embankment above them. “Can I give you some advice, friend?” Mikhail nodded. “If you're planning on climbing up to the top of the cliffs to “photograph native birds” I would suggest you seriously reconsider. As I said before there are some species up there you don't want to tangle with.”
“Thank you for the warning. I am fully aware of the dangers around here.” The American shrugged. “Have it your way. I just thought I should warn you. Your guidebooks might not have alerted you to everything you have to watch out for.” Mikhail adjusted his pack. “I'd better be going. I have a long climb ahead of me.” He smiled at the American. “It was pleasant meeting you.”
“Likewise. Have a safe rest of your holiday.” Mikhail began to climb the rocks again. The American stood and watched him, shaking his head.
Kelvin Inman shouldered his own pack. He looked up toward the top of the rise and sighed heavily. The young Ukranian he had just met was either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. Kelvin wasn't sure which it was. He wished he could have told the other man exactly what the hazards at the compound were instead of just giving broad hints. Unfortunately that information was classified and divulging it, especially to a Russian might be viewed as treason. (At the very least he'd get in some good hot water for doing it. Not the thing one wanted to do when starting their CIA career.) He sighed and began to climb the rocks himself. He couldn't shake the feeling he had just let his new friend walk into a minefield. His own rendezvous point at the top of the cliff was a good ways away from the perimeter of the resort and considerably safer then where the Russian was going. Kelvin steeled himself and continued his ascent. He had more important things to worry about at the moment.