He's looking over a file when Sayid's sat down in front of him. He puts it down and says he wants to talk about Tariq. Sayid says nothing. Clancy Motherfucking Brown says he knows that Sayid values loyalty and probably feels pretty bad about the translating he's been doing. "I get that," he says, and stands up to put a tape in a nearby VCR. "This is what Tariq was doing before he took command of your intelligence unit," he says. "He was the head of a chemical warfare battalion in the north. Personally supervised the use of sarin gas in this village."
Sayid watches as the screen shows a crowded Iraqi marketplace. Clancy Motherfucking Brown doesn't watch; he watches Sayid and notes that Sayid recognizes it, and had relatives there. We hear, rather than see, gunshots on the television, followed by screaming. "So you know what sarin gas does," says Brown, quietly tacking on that the entire marketplace was wiped out, including innocent women and children. Sayid watches in shocked silence for a few moments before asking for it to be shut off, which Clancy, satisfied, does.
Clancy then leans forward: "Loyalty is a virtue," he says. "But unquestioned loyalty...I don't think that's you." There is a whole lot of blah-blah, and the upshot is that all Clancy wants is the pilot back, so they can send him home to his family. "Tariq will never talk to you," says Sayid softly. "That's why you're going to have to make him talk to you," says Brown, sliding some sort of toolkit across the table to Sayid. Of course, the cost of the torture instruments will be deducted from your first paycheque, but you'll get it back when you pass the three-month probation period. Welcome to the U.S. Army, Sayid.
Down in the hatch-hole, Sayid wakes a sleeping Locke, who's all, "What's up?" They go into the kitchen area, and Sayid appears to have quickly filled Locke in, because they crouch down by the still-unconscious Henry Gale. "From Minnesota, huh?" "That's the question, isn't it," says Sayid. Henry starts to come around, asking all kinds of annoying questions like, "Where am I?" And he's crying and shit. He's kind of a puss, if you ask me. One arrow in the chest and he blubbers away. Sayid calmly tells him that they'll take the arrow out, but first he needs to relax, and also tell a Republic Guard torture expert your life story. Don't sweat it.