Henry Gale in the netting thumps unceremoniously to the ground, and as he gets extricated, I note the he looks not unlike a less creepy-looking, middle-aged Thom Yorke. Then Gale notices that as he's been getting to his feet, Rousseau has a rather intimidating-looking arrow that she's setting into her crossbow. He takes off running, and Rousseau, to Sayid's horror, calmly fires into Henry's back, and the arrow comes out the other side, lodging itself there, like if Steve Martin's early standup act got really grim all of sudden.
Sayid pushes past Rousseau to check on the prone Gale, and snaps that she could have killed him. Rousseau comes over too, and says that if she'd wanted to kill him, she would have, so apparently she can predict how his body's going to twist while he's running, and she can shoot an arrow through his chest with pinpoint accuracy. Got it. She says again that Gale is "one of them," and she instructs Sayid to tie him up, and since it looks like he might be believing her, he does so. She further says that he should take Henry to see Jack, because he's no good to Sayid dead. "And then what," says Sayid. "You talk to him, Sayid," says Rousseau, saying that as she recalls, that's what Sayid does, meaning the kind of talking that involves electrodes and bamboo shoots. She warns Sayid, though, that Henry will lie. "Hey, who's the torturer here?" jokes Sayid. Well, at least he does in my mind. In reality, he just slings Henry over his shoulders and heads off back to camp.
Flashback! Sayid's being hauled, handcuffed, into a meeting with none other than a grey-haired, bearded Clancy Motherfucking Brown. You glance at his IMDb résumé and you see that he's been in a lot of garbage movies (and that he's done an amazing number of video games), but he was in Bad Boys, not the Will Smith/Martin Lawrence spin-cam-fest but the Sean Penn vehicle, and he's cool with me forever. I say this also partly because I think that I am probably actually somewhat afraid of Clancy Brown. If you are an actor and he's in a scene with you, your chance of getting the crap kicked out of you goes up about 200 percent. I think I would probably actually shit my pants out of fear if I ever came face to face with him. The grey hair and the beard don't make him seem less menacing. They make it seem like Grampa's gonna kick your ass. ["I'm not going to count to three. I'm not even going to count to one. You WILL shut the fuck up NOW or I'll sing you a lullaby!" -- Byron Hadley]