The man sitting before him was old, very old. But his eyes were still clear and bright, in direct contrast to the dusty old brown hat that sat upon his head. If he was forced to guess which was older, the hat or the man, Harker would have been hard pressed. He sighed and tipped back in his chair slightly, his fingers drumming a quick tune on the table. "Dr. Grant, we aren't asking you to walk us through everything that you saw on that island, or what happened there." Harker said coolly, patiently. "All we are asking for is information. It may help us save these young kids' lives."

"How long ago did you say they went to that island?" Grant asked, taking a sip from the mug of beer Harker had ordered for him. "Two weeks?"

"That's right." Harker nodded.

"They're dead." Grant said simply. He slowly set down the beer and folded his arms across his chest. "Or they soon will be. What Eric Kirby did, surviving that long, it was a miracle. And he had a lot of knowledge on dinosaurs to begin with. I doubt these kids would be so fortunate."

Harker didn't argue, he didn't need or want to, nor did he particularly care for Grant's argument. Two weeks ago a group of kids, all from rich families with more ego than their heads could probably handle, had decided that they would go to Isla Sorna after the fall of Jurassic World. Their reason had not been disclosed to their families, or anyone else for that matter. Their absence had not been noted by their families, they were supposedly away at college after all, until one of them had called his parents screaming and begging for them to send help. The call had ended abruptly and it had taken less than fifteen minutes for the source to be traced and their location to be determined.

This discovery was what led to Harker and his team to be hired. The parents of the missing students had put out a request to the mercenaries and Harker's team had been the only one who responded. But that made sense, considering what it was they were doing and where they were going. Following the fall of Jurassic World the investors in the company wanted to secure as many of their non-biological assets as they possibly could. This led to a massive influx of mercenary and retrieval teams being hired and sent to Isla Nublar. The rates at which these teams were not promising, and soon it became well known throughout the mercenary underworld to deny all contracts related to the dinosaur islands. However, this made the contract that Harker and his team had taken on all the more lucrative. Since no other team was willing to take up the mantle, they could potentially ask for whatever sum they wanted.

That was of course, assuming that they could manage to get some sort of useful information out of the grim old paleontologist sitting before him. Dr. Grant was thus far proving to be most unhelpful, his skeptical nature making things far more difficult than they had to be. "Look, Dr. Grant, we just need to know about what dinosaurs you encountered there and their locations." Harker said smoothly, encouragingly. "After that we will leave you be. If any of those kids are alive, every second counts."

"You should have read the book that Paul Kirby wrote." Dr. Grant said with a snort and shake of his head. "I'm sure that would have helped you."

"We did as a matter of fact." Harker said, "As much as I enjoyed the description of how the island was a gateway to repairing his failed marriage, it didn't do much for helping me understand the layout of the island, or the patterns and territories of the animals within."

"No, he didn't focus on that did he?" Grant asked, smiling for the first time since the meeting began. "Look, I understand you are trying to help these kids but going to that island is suicide. Raptors patrol the center of the island and the superpredators seemed to follow no set pattern. They roam."

Harker jotted this down on the notepad before him and nodded. "Anything we need to worry about besides the supers and the raptors?"

"You make it sound like they won't be any trouble." Grant shook his head in disbelief. "The optimism of the damned is really something."

"Well, if I am already damned I might as well try to make it pay for me." Harker laughed quietly. "I think that is all the information I will be getting from you. I thank you."

Grant watched the dark haired man leave the table and disappear out of the bar's double doors. He sipped at his drink again and shook his head. The memories of what the second island had put him through still haunted his thoughts and dreams, and he knew that they would until his last day.

Once outside of the bar, Harker pulled out his phone and stowed the notebook into his pocket. "Well, I got some information." He said once someone answered at their house. "Not much, but some. Have we gotten the thermals back yet?"

"Yeah, but they aren't going to be enormously helpful." The person at the house, Natasha, answered with a sigh of discontent. "They did the thermals on a twelve hour sweep, and the only thing it showed for sure is that the herd animals stay in herds while the predators are constantly roving a very large area."

"Grant said as much." Harker confirmed. "Are the other two ready?"

"Yeah, we are ready to go whenever you get back." Natasha confirmed. "Have your contacts gotten our transport ready?"

"They aren't contacts." Harker rolled his eyes. "The clients arranged transport for us, I have no idea who these people are."

"About that…." Natasha's voice trailed off uncomfortably and Harker suppressed a groan. Apparently it did not fool Natasha and she echoed his unspoken sound of discontent. "The parents called earlier and told us that they had hired an additional person. They said he was going to be our guide."

"You did tell them that we didn't need anyone else, right?" Harker had experience in these matters. No matter what you told a client, they always seemed to know best about what their money was paying for, even if their ideas were completely useless.

"Of course." Natasha sniffed. "I gave them the normal briefing. Four person team goes in, moves quietly, and gets out. They didn't listen and told me that their new hire will be meeting us at the airport tonight."

"Because it would be too simple for things to go like they were supposed to." Harker rolled his eyes and slipped into the driver's seat of his car. "I'll be at the house in thirty. Maybe I can talk some sense into them, but I doubt it. Where are Clay and Morgan?"

"Finishing up prepping the gear." Natasha answered. "Lightweight, stealth gear. Silencers on all guns."

"Make sure they give us some stopping power in case, or when, things go south." Harker ordered, pulling onto the highway and quickly accelerating far past the speed limit. "I'd rather not be on that island without a gun like those guys Paul Kirby were."

"Well they were stupid to begin with." Natasha scoffed, her scorn for them evident. "Bringing guns like that into a place like that. They got what they deserved."

"Maybe." Harker said, ending the call without another word.

The rest of the drive back to the house went by quickly, especially since he shattered every single speed limit that he encountered. If someone was to guess the profession as to the person who owned their house, undoubtedly they would guess something along the lines of doctor or perhaps a banker. It was grand, very much so, and well kept. The portrayal of mercenaries residing in back alley bars and slums, weapons strewn all over their hangout, was nothing more than Hollywood effects and misrepresentation. Contract mercenaries were a very much in demand trade. Procuring rare items, or in this case missing people, was a very expensive endeavor. It only made sense for them to enjoy the fruits of their labors. He made his way up their paved driveway and nodded to their gardener, the man waving in response.

Once inside, Harker made his way to the office and picked up the phone immediately. He dialed up one of the parents of the missing children, they were all putting forth the money together and thus speaking to one was speaking to them all, and waited for them to answer. They answered on the first ring, as expected. They had been very easy to keep in contact with, their worry causing them to have their phones constantly available. "Hello?" the man asked in a rush. "Is this-?"

"Harker, yes." The mercenary kept his voice well-modulated and polite despite his desire to speak with some contempt. "I understand that you hired an additional person to, ah, guide us on this contract?"

"Yes, we, that is the others and I, decided that it would only increase the chance of your success if you had someone else who knew the island." The man said, his voice loaded with confidence in the idea.

"It also means that we will attract more attention." Harker pointed out. "As I am sure you understand, this missions hinges on our ability to remain unseen and undiscovered by the animals of that island. Getting your children off of the island will be difficult enough."

"I understand, but we have already paid the man." He explained. "Remember, you are being paid for-."

"Getting them off or bringing you back proof of death." Harker rolled his eyes. "Yes, I am well aware as to the terms of our contract. You don't need to remind me every time we speak. Who is this person anyways?"

"I'm sure you have heard of him, his name is Billy Brennan!" The man said proudly.

Harker somewhat recoiled in surprise at this revelation. He knew well about Billy Brennan, the former paleontologist and now extreme sports connoisseur, also one of the surviving members of Paul Kirby's ill-conceived rescue attempt. "I have heard of him." Harker said slowly. "And how did you manage to convince him?"

"Everyone has their price, Mr. Harker." The man on the other hand said smugly, ending the call after finishing his sentence.

Harker glanced at the phone in disgust and shook his head. Undoubtedly the man thought himself incredibly tactful, ending the call on his terms like that. It was true that, psychologically, it put the man in the power seat but that was only if Harker actually called him back, something he had zero intention of doing.

He leaned back in his seat and stared at the ceiling, the sounds of gear bags being dropped coming from another room, signaling that the rescue attempt was about to begin. "Here we go." He muttered, rising from his seat.