[Flacolaco]

Let us next reconsider the following conversation

MILES: You owe me a fish taco.

BRAM: Sorry about that, but your apartment's being watched. And we had to try our best to talk you out of working for Charles Widmore.

MILES: I have no idea who that is.

[Bram climbs out of his seat, positioning himself closer to Miles.]

BRAM: He's the man who chartered the boat you'll be getting on next week. And, my friend, you do not want to get on that boat. Do you know what lies in the shadow of the statue?

MILES: No, can't say that I do.

BRAM: Then you're not ready to go to that island. But if you come with us--all those things you've spent your life trying to find out? You'll know. You'll know who you are, Miles--why it is you have a gift, and most of all, you'll know about your father.

MILES: I don't know where you've been getting your intel, but I stopped caring about my father a long time ago. What I do care about is money. So, I'll tell you what. You want me to pass on going to the Island? It's gonna cost you double what they offered--$3.2 million.

BRAM: We're not paying you anything. All the money in the world isn't gonna fill that empty hole inside you, Miles.

[Bram climbs back into the front passenger seat.]

MILES: That's sad, isn't it?

BRAM: Toss him!

[The two masked men grab Miles by the shoulders, the van brakes in an empty street, the door opens, and Miles is summarily ejected from the van, landing on his feet. Bram calls out through his open window.]

BRAM: You're playing for the wrong team!

MILES: Yeah? What team are you on?

BRAM: The one that's gonna win.

I'm more confused than ever.