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Post by Penelope Widmore on Nov 22, 2008 19:47:30 GMT -5
She had caught the fastest flight out of London the moment she had heard on the news about the Freighter bringing back the people from the crash of Oceanic Flight 815. She had been preparing to send out a ship to look for them - in fact, it was sceduled to leave day after tomorrow, but this made her job more easier. If she was lucky, Desmond would be with them. Or one of them would know where to find her Desmond.
She stepped out of the taxi and paid the driver, bouncing up the steps and into the hotel. Penelope knew it was the right one, by the reporters that had seeminly set up a permanent camp outside the doors.
Her eyes scanned the lobby. She was going to find one of them, even if it took her all night to find just one of the survivors, or Desmond. Whoever came first. People were all around her, confusing her for a moment, until she sat down. She was suffering from jet lag - God was it a long flight from England to California - so she took a seat on the couch in the lobby, her eyes open, looking for any sign of Desmond. |
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