"Jurassic Park" and all related matters belong to Michael Crighton, Steven Spielberg, and varuous production entities, NOT me.
One character belongs to Pioneer/Geneon.
Several others are OC personalities, from back in the day, of friends. You know who you are, and I miss 'ya.
My first non anime FF.N fic. No dino sympathy here. Read at your own risk.
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A 'Different End' to: "Jurassic Park, The Lost World."
June 20, 1997 USMC Camp Pendleton Firing Range, 2nd Platoon, Company A, 1st Battalion.
Sergeant Smith leaned back against the commander's hatch of his M1A1 Abrams tank to relax, puff on a thick cigar, and casually watch as the rest of his platoon's vehicles continued test firing to calibrate their 120mm cannons.
The appearance of a fast moving Hummer on the road to the range drew Sergeant Smith's attention away from the Platoon Commander's tank just as it fired. Since it appeared the Lieutenant didn't see the approaching vehicle, Smith reached down and activated his platoon radio. "Two-Six, from Two-Five, Base Commander's Hummer commin' up the road."
Over in the Platoon Commander's tank, the Lieutenant suddenly straightened up and turned towards the approaching Hummer. He leaned back down to say something to his crew, called 'Cease-Fire' on the platoon radio-net, then climbed out of the commander's hatch and jumped down to the ground.
As Sergeant Smith, his tank's loader, and several crew from the other platoon vehicles watched, the base commander fairly leapt from the Hummer, ran up to the Lieutenant and began to gesticulate in a most un-general-like manner. Realizing from the general's attitude that the platoon was soon going to be busy, Smith reached down to activate his radio again. "Second platoon, stand-by to move out." There was a moments pause, then the exposed crew in the other three tanks vanished down into their vehicles. Another short pause and the two tank commanders and the Lieutenant's gunner called in their vehicle's readiness to comply with the order.
Eventually, the Lieutenant and the Base Commander saluted each other, signaling an end to their conversation. The Base Commander promptly climbed back into his Hummer and took off back down the road. The Platoon Commander, shaking his head, turned and re-mounted his tank.
"Sergeant Smith!"
Smith keyed his radio. "What's going on Sir?"
Over in the command tank, the Lieutenant was still shaking his head. "Do you remember that film called 'Jurassic Park'?"
Sergeant Smith nodded. "What about it?"
The Lieutenant started to laugh. "Well, I guess it's for real. We've just been ordered to go down to San Diego to stop a T-Rex that's chewin' things up."
Sergeant Smith stared at his radio in complete disbelief. "Really now..."
Over in his tank, the Lieutenant nodded. "When the Base Commander tells a mere Lieutenant to do something, even something bizarre like killing a dinosaur, I think it's better to do first and ask questions later. Besides, the General seemed serious enough for me to think this is for real." The Lieutenant paused. "Sergeant, have you ever heard of a General pulling a gag like this?"
Sergeant Smith shook his head. "No Sir."
The Lieutenant nodded again. "Oh well. We'd best get going." The Lieutenant reached down inside his tank to key the platoon radio net. "Second Platoon, we will exit through the base main gate and proceed down the Five Freeway to San Diego. Highway Patrol Officers and MP's will keep the highway clear. Once in San Diego, we will coordinate with Police and Marine Scout helicopters, track down, and kill a T-Rex that's running around loose."
Sergeant Smith heard a quickly muffled guffaw from Sergeant Guibault's tank, which the Lieutenant tactfully ignored as he continued his impromptu briefing.
"I know this assignment sounds weird, but if a general say's go, then we'll go. The Mayor of San Diego has declared a 'State of Emergency' and ordered everyone to stay indoors. We don't want any taxpayers to become dino-Chow if this is for real, so let's hurry up and move out. I'll go first. Guibault next, Franks third, and Sergeant Smith last."
Sergeant Smith acknowledged the order, waited for his turn in line as the rest of the platoon moved out, then ordered his driver to fall in behind Sergeant Frank's Abrams. The four tanks moved down the road from the firing range, then turned onto the main road running to the base's main gate. The Base Commander was waiting for them near the gate with a Divisional Aviation Brigade Blackhawk command helicopter, and as soon as they passed through, he climbed in and took off to follow.
As his Abrams climbed the on-ramp to the Five Freeway, Sergeant Smith activated the vehicle's intercom and called down to his driver. "Hey Thomas, bet you've fantasized about doing this, haven't you?"
The tank's driver quickly answered. "Hell yes Gunny! I haven't been to Saudi or Germany like you have! Driving around the dumpy two-laners on this base all the time sucks, especially compared to what I know this baby can do on the open road!"
Sergeant Smith laughed, then leaned back against the edge of the commanders hatch to enjoy the ride.
Thanks to the promised police and MP help, Sergeant Smith's platoon was able to quickly move down and unobstructed Five Freeway towards San Diego. Along the way, people who had been cleared from the road got out of their cars to watch as the four tanks rolled by. A group of children near a bus started waving enthusiastically, so the loaders and commanders in each tank straightened up and gave perfect salutes as they went by.
A hour later, the four Abrams exited the Five Freeway near the port area of San Diego. The Lieutenant quickly established contact with a Highway Patrol helicopter, and the tanks began to move towards a series of wooded hills near the port.
"Second Platoon, the CHiPs say the dino's somewhere in the area of these hills, but they haven't seen it for about ten minutes." The Lieutenant paused. "This is what we'll do. I'll wait here, Smith, you go around to the east, Guibault take north, and Franks you're south. When everyone's in position, we'll move in and smoke 'im out. Any questions?"
Sergeant Smith keyed his radio. "Sir, maybe we should try to stick with the fifty's. That way we can keep any collateral damage to a minimum."
Over in his vehicle, the Lieutenant nodded in agreement. "All right then, Second Platoon, lock and load your fifty and coax, then move out."
Sergeant Smith ordered his driver to move out towards the eastern side of the hills, then reached down inside his turret for a box of fifty-caliber ammunition. He opened the box, then the breach of his vehicle's heavy machine-gun, loaded the ammunition, then closed the breach and jerked back on the priming twice handle to load the weapon.
As Sergeant Smith's Abrams drove along a residential street, a ten or twelve year-old boy suddenly ran out of his house and over towards the tank. The boy's mother was hot on his heals, but she tripped in what appeared to be a giant footprint, and her son was free to continue.
Sergeant Smith ordered Thomas to halt just as the boy reached the side of the tank.
"Hey Mister! Are you in the Army?"
Sergeant Smith twitched, then smiled as he leaned over to talk to the boy. "Not me sonny, I'm not a soldier, I'm a Marine. Anyway, you better get inside. It's real dangerous out here."
The boy pushed his mother away as she came up and started to apologize to Sergeant Smith. "That dinosaur ate my dog! I used to like dinosaurs, but not any more! You find him and blow him away for me!"
Sergeant Smith gave an amused smile at the bloodthirsty request, then straightened up and saluted the little boy. "Well take care of him sonny!" The boy's mother finally succeeded in pulling him away from the Abrams. Smith ordered Thomas to move out, then watched until both the civilians were safe inside their house again.
Several minutes later, Sergeant Smith's tank arrived at the proper position to begin it's search. "Two-Six from Two-Five. I'm in position. Whenever you're ready sir."
The Lieutenant's voice quickly came back over the radio. "Second Platoon, move out."
Sergeant Smith relayed the order to his driver, then steadied himself against the fifty-caliber as the Abrams lurched forward and started to move.
With the long barrels of their fifty-caliber heavy machine-guns traversing to cover likely hiding places, the four tanks moved slowly into the park-like terrain of the group of hills.
Sergeant Smith eventually noticed a series of large, three-toed footprints near some damaged trees, so he ordered his driver to change directions to follow. When the Abrams began to enter a small clearing, Smith's danger sense started to raise hackles across the back of his neck, so he ordered Thomas to bring the tank to a halt, then activated the radio to call the platoon commander. "Two-five to Two-six. I think the dino's somewhere close by, but I can't see or hear anything yet."
The Lieutenant's response was immediate. "Two-five from Two-six. I have you in sight."
Sergeant Smith looked across the clearing and saw the Lieutenant's Abrams slowly advancing down a gravel fire road. Smith waved, then activated his tank's intercom to order Thomas to start moving forward again. Before he could do so, a loud, screaming roar and the sound of smashing wood immediately brought his attention back towards the platoon commander's vehicle.
Trailing a few torn branches that were caught on it's arms, the Tyrannosaurus Rex came charging out of the woods behind the Lieutenant's slowly moving Abrams. Before the platoon commander could bring his heavy machine-gun to bear, the dinosaur bent over and pulled him and the gun from the vehicle.
Stunned into inaction by how rapidly such a huge creature could move, Sergeant Smith watched as the T-Rex unsuccessfully tried to chew the machine-gun human combo, then spit it and what was left of the Lieutenant out on the ground before using it's hind claws to attack the hopefully dead platoon commander's Abrams.
The screech of hard-as-steel claws ripping apart a tread and dragging across Chobbam armor, combined with the screams of trapped crewmen over an open radio circuit finally brought Smith back to reality. Suddenly unsure about how effective the fifty-caliber would actually be, he immediately decided to rely on a much more potent weapon. "Gunner! Load HEAT! Target dinosaur!"
Below and to Sergeant Smith's left, the sound of the loader pulling a 120mm shell out of the ammo bin and placing it into the breech of the tank's main-gun was accompanied by the gunner's almost instant answer to the targeting command. HEAT UP! Target identified!"
"FIRE!"
"ON THE WAY!"
There was tremendous flash accompanied by an equally loud roar as the main-gun of Sergeant Smith's Abrams fired. When the smoke and retina flash faded enough to see what had happened, Smith saw the mortally wounded dinosaur thrashing around and screeching out it's agony on the ground next to the platoon commander's tank. "Gunner! Load HEAT! Same target! Fire at will!"
Again the sound of the main-gun being loaded.
"On the way!"
Another flash and an accompanying roar. This time when the smoke cleared, the Tyrannosaurus Rex lay completely still next to the Abrams it had attacked.
Sergeant Smith reached down to activate his platoon radio. "Two-two and two-three from two-five, hurry up and meet me in the shoulder of these hills. That T-Rex got the Lieutenant, but I think I've managed to kill it. Tell me when you're in position to give cover, then I'll move in to investigate." Smith listened to the two tank commanders acknowledgment, then called the platoon commander's vehicle. "Two-six, what's your status, over."
His voice high-pitched and frightened, the tank's gunner answered Sergeant Smith's call almost immediately. "What in god's name was that Sarge! We heard something screaming just before the Lieutenant went flying out the hatch, then all hell broke loose!"
Over the open radio circuit, Sergeant Smith could hear someone in the platoon commander's tank crying about wetting himself. "It was that dinosaur. I think we killed it, but you stay inside the vehicle until I make sure." Smith could easily visualize the gunner vigorously nodding his head.
"You don't have to tell us twice Sarge!"
Sergeant Smith saw the other two Abrams of the platoon moving into overwatch positions, so he toggled his own vehicle's intercom and ordered Thomas to move forward cautiously. As the tank slowly approached the prostrate T-Rex, Smith's position in the turret gave him a clear view of the ugly wounds caused by the two HEAT rounds.
The first had struck near one of the dinosaur's hips and nearly taken a leg off. A huge hole in its chest and the mangled remains of a severed arm were mute testimony to the damage caused by the second round.
The Abrams halted near the dead platoon commander's tank. Sergeant Smith was about to call for the vehicle's crew to come out when he realized the T-Rex was still breathing. "Son-of-a-bitch! That thing's still alive after two HEAT rounds? Gunner! Load SABOT. Tell Thomas where to move, then aim for the neck just below its head and fire at will!"
The sounds of the main-gun loading cycle came from below and to Sergeant Smith's left one more time. The Abrams turned right and moved forward a short distance then stopped. There was a hydraulic whine as the gunner traversed the turret and aimed, then another flash and a roar as he administered a dinosaur sized coup-de-grace. This time when the smoke cleared, the terrible wound in the Tyrannosaur's neck made it abundantly clear it was finally dead.
Sergeant Smith turned slightly to the left as a head and shoulders of his loader appeared in the turret's loader hatch. The man gave a long whistle, shook his head, then vanished back down into his position. Smith stared at the dead dinosaur for a few more seconds, then shook his own head and reached down to activate his radio. "Two-five to Two-six. That T-Rex is dead for sure now. Come on out. I'll have my crew give you a hand trying to find what's left of the Lieutenant. Two-two and Two-three, come down and help them out." Smith listened to the acknowledgment of his orders, then adjusted the radio to the Aviation Brigade command frequency as the rest of his tank's crew began to dismount. "Command Blackhawk from Two-five. The dinosaur is dead. We have one personnel casualty and one vehicle casualty. Request that you advise the morgue, and have a vehicle recovery team sent down from Camp Pendleton, over."
"Command Blackhawk to Two-five. This is the base commander. Good job son. We will take care of your requests at once. Be advised though that the press are now closing on your position. I'll try to get the CHiPs to hold them back, but that won't last long, over."
Sergeant Smith gave an annoyed groan. "Two-six to Base Commander, we'll be careful, out." On the far side of the dead platoon commander's disabled Abrams, curses and the sound of someone retching announced the discovery of the Lieutenant's body. Before he could climb down to go take a look, the sound of an approaching helicopter announced the arrival of the press. Smith reached inside the turret for a cigar as a television station Jet Ranger landed, then lit it and leaned back against the hatch to watch as a female reporter and her cameraman jumped out and began to approach his tank.
Nanami Mizuhara, reporter for a Los Angeles television station, lead her cameraman up to the tank with a cigar-smoking crewman standing half-way out of the turret. She primped herself a bit, then faced the cameraman and started speaking when the light came on over the lens. "This is Nanami Mizuhara, reporting to you live from San Diego, where we have just witnessed a battle between several tanks and a rampaging Tyrannosaurus Rex." Nanami then turned to face Sergeant Smith. "Hey Marine! Care to tell our viewers about what just happened here?"
Impressed and surprised that his service had been correctly identified, Sergeant Smith decided the rather attractive female reporter was worthy enough to be granted his attention. He puffed on the cigar for a moment, blew a perfect smoke ring, then leaned over and smiled down at the enthusiastic Nanami. "Sure Miss." Smith pointed back over his shoulder with a thumb at the dead Tyrannosaur. 'That dino got loose from wherever, ate a few people and a dog, then made itself scarce in these hills. We were looking for it when it came running out and ate my Lieutenant and several parts off of his tank. That was just a little disagreeable so I ordered my gunner to give it the chop."
Nanami nodded as Sergeant Smith nonchalantly took another puff on his cigar. "You say your Lieutenant was killed? I hope he didn't suffer very much."
Sergeant Smith shook his head. "Never knew what bit him."
Nanami's reporter face twitched, but she managed to retain her composure. "That's comforting to hear." Nanami paused for a moment as someone asked her a question through the ear-piece radio she wore, then turned back up towards Sergeant Smith. "I know this is a time of grief for you Sergeant, but can you comment on what children who like dinosaurs may think about you for killing one?"
Sergeant Smith became thoughtful for a moment before answering. "Listen Miss Mizuhara, that dino was a man-eater. If we hadn't stopped it now, it may have killed even more people before someone figured out a way to control it. I apologize if that means some children get upset with me, but it still had to be done."
Nanami nodded in agreement, then turned back to face her cameraman. "There you have it. A live account of what just occurred in the hills above San Diego. We will continue to bring you additional reports as this story develops."
Nanami waited until the light over the camera lens went out, then turned back towards Sergeant Smith. "Hey Sergeant! Are you going to paint another kill ring around the barrel of your tank's gun?"
Sergeant Smith took a puff on his cigar, then nodded in approval. "Sure, why not? A kill's a kill I suppose." Smith had a thought, then looked directly at Nanami. "Hey Miss, were you in the military?"
Nanami Mizuhara nodded and smiled up at Sergeant Smith. "553rd Medical Clearing Company. I mustered out right after The Gulf."
Sergeant Smith grinned broadly. "553rd huh? You and your people took good care of some of my friends who were hurt back then. Thanks a lot."
Nanami smiled and gave a smart salute. "Glad to be of service Sergeant."
Eventually a San Diego county morgue vehicle showed up to remove the remains of Sergeant Smith's dead platoon commander. Several hours later, after most of the reporters and sight-seers were gone or had been chased away by the police and MP's, a Cal-Trans road crew appeared with a large crane and a trailer to haul away the dead Tyrannosaurus Rex.
Citing congestion on the Five Freeway, the Camp Pendleton Base Commander ordered Sergeant Smith and the second platoon to bivouac in place for the night. One of the tank drivers produced a cell phone and called for pizza and drinks. The fifteen remaining members of second platoon then settled in and spent a sleepless night under the stars.
Morning heralded the arrival of a vehicle recovery team. The disabled Abrams was quickly recovered and loaded on a tank-hauler, then it and the remaining three vehicles of 2nd Platoon, Company "A", 1st Battalion, made their way out of the hills and headed for home.
Fin.
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Author's Notes:
Yes. I took a writer's liberties with some things.
No. I have no sympathy for the T-Rex in Jurassic Park.
Having finally seen Jurassic Park, 'The Lost World,' and having been filled with dislike for how it played out, I was inspired to write what I, "In my own opinion," consider to be a, 'less silly, more realistic,' ending to the presence of a rampaging dinosaur in the streets of San Diego. (All those Godzilla movies didn't hurt either.) Forgive me if this short story seems a little predictable, but it was written in a hurry, (ten years ago, now posted here,) so I must beg forgiveness for any faults you may find with it.
Original Story Creation Date: 7 / 10 / 97