At the service, the priest is blah-blah-ing about meeting in the air or whatever. Helen and Locke are the only two people there, so I guess it's a good thing they showed up. Would they have gone through the whole rigmarole if there was no one there? Who made the arrangements? Who put the obituary in the paper? Aren't these questions Locke should be asking? The priest is rambling, and Locke happens to glance to his right (and I stand corrected, there's someone else there -- some white-haired dude, I have no idea who) and sees a couple of ne'er-do-wells over at another gravesite. It's the classic thug combo of a short skinny dude and a tall stocky dude, and they're looking over Locke's way. They see him looking and go back to pretending they're visiting another person's grave. Locke frowns. He looks over to his left, and there's a white sedan on the cemetery road. Dark windows, we can't see who (if anyone) is inside.
The priest asks if Locke wants to say anything, so Locke stands up. "I forgive you," is all he says. Off to the side, the car starts its engine and drives off.
Down in Swan station, Locke's still listening intently to the garbled audio. In the armoury, Henry's still calling out, wondering what's going on. Locke asks him to be quiet, and Henry keeps asking what's happening, so Locke yells at him to shut up, which I can't believe more characters on this show don't say to each other all the time. Henry suggests that Locke should get Jack, which isn't going to win him any points with Locke. Sure enough, Locke goes running at the armoury like he's going to break down the door, but he just yells again for Henry to shut up. As he does so, an alarm starts going off, and steel doors -- presumably the blast doors first noticed by Michael (who? Yeah, no kidding) -- start descending from the ceiling. Thinking quickly (but not quickly enough, as I'll elaborate on in a moment), Locke grabs the handy-dandy crowbar from the handy-dandy toolbox, and demonstrates perfect base-stealing form as he slides head-first across the floor, and manages to get the crowbar between the floor and one of the doors. And Henry still won't shut up in there.
So now we're going to enjoy all the fun of watching poker, except without Shannon Elizabeth pretending she's still got a career. Hurley's demonstrating his complete ineptitude at the game, since he doesn't know when he's supposed to bet or call or raise. He looks beseechingly at Kate, who is unsurprisingly no help, and Jack strolls up and does the Matt-Damon-in-Rounders routine where he knows exactly what everybody has, telling Hurley that Sawyer has him beat. "You got a baby straight; he's got the flush." Hurley's silence indicates that Jack's right, so Kate asks him to do her, by which I mean tell her what she's holding. Jack says it's hard to say, but she's just in it for the fun anyway, and she says Jack should try having fun sometime, or something annoying like that, like how many times do we have to see the "why the hell is Jack so serious all the time" routine anyway? Jack starts to walk away, but Sawyer calls him "Amarillo Slim" and sarcastically asks if just because Jack watches poker on television, he thinks he can "tussle with the big boys," like a table with Kate and Hurley is a real high-rollers game. "How about you put your mangos where your mouth is?" says Sawyer, like Lost's actual writers are now writing slash themselves. Thanks for that. Jack pretends he needs to be convinced to play a hand or two.