Police in Los Angeles

"And Mr. Gaspare has also volunteered to join me," Jack announced, stepping forward under the gaze of the group, then looking at the black prisoner standing slightly apart from the others. Gaspare seemed momentarily stunned, not knowing what to say as Jack smiled at him.

"Come on, he was handcuffed before. Just because you covered it with clothing doesn't mean I didn't notice. Are you two in on this together? I saw you and the dead guy go into the business class together not long after," the bald white man suddenly erupted, seemingly embarrassed by the earlier rebuke from the female college student or perhaps due to his naturally paranoid nature.

Head stewardess Bonnie quickly stepped in. "That's nonsense. Officers Tavola and John were just helping to supervise a special passenger at my request."

"Yeah, and now the cop responsible for guarding the prisoner is dead, right? Who knows what you plan to do to us? I even suspect the plane—"

Before he could finish, Gaspare lunged and grabbed him by the throat.

"Don't insult Officer Karam. He was a good man. He promised to clear my name, that's why I agreed to go with him."

"Hey, hey, calm down, relax," Jack hurried forward, grabbing the burly man's arm. Gaspare's arms were nearly as thick as the old man's thighs, but Jack managed to hold him back.

"Alright, everyone, anyone with a normal mind knows why I'd choose Mr. Gaspare to come along. It's already daylight; we need to leave here quickly, staying is too dangerous," Jack said, trying to diffuse the situation.

Despite his attempt, the bald man continued to shout from where he was being restrained. "I don't trust you! I'm not leaving!"

"Okay, okay, calm down. We're not forcing anyone to come with us. We've explained the island's dangers and distributed the food and water," Captain Torrance interjected, trying to maintain peace.

Jack added one final warning, "For those who choose to stay, I suggest hiding and not trusting the locals. There's a reason the 'Abu Sayyaf' group has been entrenched on this island for decades."

Captain Torrance's leadership, along with Gigi's psychological "team building" over the past hour or two, managed to convince almost everyone to follow the crew. Surprisingly, apart from the conspiracy-minded bald man, a middle-aged couple from Japan also refused to leave.

Jack tried to communicate with them, only to be met with unexpected enthusiasm. "Are you a fellow believer?" they asked, trying to take his hand.

"I'm not interested," Jack muttered under his breath in Mandarin, quickly withdrawing his hand and stepping away, feeling as if he'd touched something unclean. The memory of the Sewol ferry disaster, where over 300 lives were lost in front of the nation, still lingered in his mind.

Gigi, noticing his unease, asked what was wrong. Jack briefly explained the strange and diverse religious sects in Japan, which the others seemed to understand, keeping their distance from the couple.

Jack and the "volunteered" Gaspare set out first, leaving markers along the way. The two captains led the group, ensuring no one got lost or left behind.

"Since you said the locals can't be trusted, why are we leading everyone to the nearest town?" Gaspare finally broke the silence as they turned onto a forest path, watching Jack stack a small pile of stones at the turn.

"It's just a cover story. Our real plan is to hide everyone," Jack admitted.

"I figured as much. We're heading north now, aren't we? Are you planning to take a detour?" Gaspare's expression was mostly obscured by his beard, but his eyes crinkled with a smile.

"Most of them are ordinary people living in normal societies. Their understanding of 'terrorists' is limited to what they've seen on TV or online," Jack explained, sharing the consensus reached with the captains and other crew members.

"People only believe what they see with their own eyes. Our descriptions might get them to follow us, but only temporarily. As time passes, thirst, hunger, and exhaustion will lead them to question themselves."

"Our job is to build a sense of group identity and establish a common goal before turning that collective consciousness into personal responsibility," he continued.

Gaspare seemed intrigued, "You and that blonde lady—what are you? I don't believe regular cops know this stuff."

"We're with the FBI, part of the BAU. We were in Singapore for an international psychology conference and had to rush back to Los Angeles, but..." Jack explained, detailing the Behavioral Analysis Unit's work. He saw no reason to hide anything from Gaspare, who, with his muscle, was the only backup he could count on, given that Captain Torrance looked far from capable of a fight.

"I'll have to remind myself to steer clear of people like you," Gaspare joked, then hesitated before asking, "If we get rescued, what will happen to me?"

"Deal with what? The FBI doesn't handle Canadian cases. Did you really kill someone?"

Gaspare shook his head, "I was only 18 then, just a dumb kid in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"So you joined the French Foreign Legion?" Jack asked, deciding to keep the conversation going. As long as Gaspare wasn't a drug dealer or sociopath, Jack wasn't too concerned.

"Yeah, the pay and benefits sucked, but they don't ask questions if you can do the job," Gaspare said, sounding nostalgic.

"Why didn't you take that gun? I know Officer Karam had a handgun," Gaspare asked, sounding curious.

Jack glanced back, his expression warning, "Believe it or not, even if you had a gun, you wouldn't stand a chance against me."

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