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Finally, as if in answer to her silent prayers (and the equally silent helicopter pilot), the monotony of the open ocean was broken as a large island loomed into view. It was primarily covered with thick, lush jungle with a large mountain looming out of its center. Beautiful beaches hugged the shoreline where the land met sea. It seemed beautiful, like something out of a photo book, untouched. That is until the helicopter rounded and the shade of the mountain showed a cluster of buildings, a concrete facility built into the side of the mountain itself a ways away, and finally, as the chopper flew over pencil-line roads - a square black tarmac with an H in the center of it.

A jeep rested at the edge of the landing pad, a man with shock-white hair seated in the driver's seat held his hand to shield his face from the wind whipping his hair about. His already loose ponytail was dessimated by the surging winds as the helicopter touched down. He straightened his dark clothing, and as the rotors slowed their speed and the door opened, stepped forward to greet the new arrival - another Japanese woman sent from the Japanese Feral Labs division. They recently had begun sending files to the island, and Apparently Moreau was enjoying playing catchup with some of the prospective islanders.

"Miss Yamamoto, I presume?" The man said with a smile as he offered her assitance down. He had caught up with her file in the car - she had sustained massive damage to her hands and had come seeking therapy. Moreau, however occupied, had not yet specified her serum.

He helped her down gently, retreived her bags from the dark-skinned dour-faced helicopter pilot and loaded them into the jeep. He waited until he had escorted her away from the deafening helicopter motor before continuing to speak.

"My name is Dr. Sabin Duvert. I hear that you've probably had a very long flight from Japan. But I assure you, just a few more formalities and we will get you to the duplex that you will be staying in and you can take your rest." He smiled, settling into the driver's seat and turning the ignition.

Sabin drove more carefully than his usual breakneck pace through the narrow dirt roads. It had been a long day for him as well, a few awkward conversations, and playing catchup had kept him haggard.

"Yes that is correct. Your pronounciation is very good." He responded as they drove.

The jungle passed them by - giving her a very upclose look at the flora of the island. The trees were lush and green - certainly nothing like her home country. Brightly colored bird flew - especially stirred by the rumble of the jeep, and hoots and screaches of monkeys could be heard from within the shade of the canopy.

After a few minutes of driving, the large gates marked with the Feral Labs logo crested into view before swinging open to allow the jeep admittance to the courtyard/parking lot.

"You can leave your bags here for now. We're going to go ahead and give your hand a preliminary examination, and a cursory innoculation against some of the more nasty diseases of the island. Then you can rest for the evening and get yourself settled."

Sabin parked, and helped her out of the jeep and into the mirrored front doors of the lab, that slid open on their approach.

Inside was an elegant, plush lobby. Leather couches, wooden tables polished to gleaming, and an empty secretary desk. Several out of date magazines littered the tables, and the window to the side showed a beautiful seascape through a path in the jungles.

Sabin, however, didn't pause in the waiting room, instead leading her through a double-door into a sterile hallway that led to an elevator, which also slid open as if anticipating their arrival.

"Floor 8" Sabin spoke clearly before returning to her with a smile. He was quiet, and she seemed to be nervous, but that was certainly understandable - even without knowing the truth behind the island. The file said that her family was unaware of her leaving the country for therapy, that the injury was likely caused by a family member. It was a very convenient setup for disappearance. She was a virtuoso violinist, but her damaged hands made her previous skill impossible. She moved yet, despite all of it, with a confidence that was very different than the quiet, meek Japanese woman from the rural area that had come through her less than a week previous.

The elevator moved with a lurch, and seconds later opened its doors directly into an examination room.

Sabin went to the corner of the room, flipping a switch on one of the pieces of machinery, and getting out what looked like a heavy smock.

"I figured we'd do the examination of your hand first. The injection can leave your arm sore, and sometimes cause a mild fever for the evening, so I'd like to be able to take you back to your duplex to recuperate after that. We were just goign to run another x-ray here, get it on file, and with our equipment. It shouldn't take much of your time at all, and should be relatively painless." He spoke gently, proferring her the lead smock.

"Just put this one, and sit here" He gestured to a small chair behind a 'cubby' in the wall " .. and lay your hand down on this surface." He gestured to a small block.

There were more beeps and the sound of the equipment warming up.

Sabin called back to her between a few more series of beeps and clicks. "Yes, actually. Can you distinguish my accent?" He said with a small laugh. "Some things are hard to kick. Though I am impressed if you can detect it if english is not your native language. Or is it my name?"

There was a humming then, that lasted a moment, and then Sabin stepped back out. "Just move your hand like this now..." He repositioned her hand gently on the back, so that it was as flat as she could make it wihtout straign. "And one more x-ray."

He stepped back into the booth for a few more clicks. "So you have visited? I have been to London as well, but it has been some time. And What part of France did you see? Just Paris, or did you see more of the countryside?"

There was another series of clicks, as Sabin continued on.

"Ah, yes. I learned English when I was small as well, but it was from my father, and I am certain that he was not without an accent. But your early travels and learning certainly explains your familiarity with English."

A few more clicks, and a disembodied chuckle from behind the screen. "Yes, that is definately another tip-off, but names can pass through families despite distances or places of birth. I moved to America a long time ago, and studied there. There were more opportunities for me - I was from a very small town in France."

"Annnnd... there we go!" He stepped back around. "X-rays are over, and now just the innoculation."