"You're kidding me, right?" Owen Grady demanded, forgetting to hold his tongue in front of his higher ranking superior that he had been summoned in front of. Frankly, being summoned like one of the dogs he trained was insulting to his ego, to say the least. He'd heard rumors that InGen, one of the largest corporations in the world, was seeking out individuals to help with the management of some theme park on a Caribbean isle. Owen just had no knowledge that he was one of such people that the company was looking to steal away. "InGen needs me of all people? For what? Why?!"
Admiral Thompson templed his coffee-colored hands together, watching his soon to be ex-Lieutenant's outburst with a small smile, not necessarily bothered by the show of disrespect. "InGen came to me asking about you and your work with the K-9 unit. I gave a brief description of you and your work, and they asked to sit in and observe one of your training sessions."
Owen's mind flickered to what he believed was the day when he was observed, unknowingly being selected for InGen like one of his dogs for his own training program. The session had gone incredibly well that day; all of the dogs heeded his commands attentively and with the focused determination he expected of his pack by now.
Internally, he cursed his beloved dogs half-heartedly. If only they were having one of their worse days and were hopelessly distracted by each other, then maybe, just maybe, Owen wouldn't have been plucked out of the other K-9 handlers and chosen to leave his makeshift family. That was really why he was so pissed about being chosen. The relationship between him and his dogs was one that had taken years of blood, sweat, and tears to achieve, and now he was expected to just leave it behind for an unknown variable. A theme park, of all things he could be reassigned to.
Owen sighed through his nose, rolling his eyes at the unfortunate turn of events. "And did they just happen to mention why they needed a K-9 trainer such as myself for their little tropical playground? No, actually, did they you give any details at all about this?!"
The admiral stood, laying his hands flat on his immaculately organized desk. "They told me that they needed you, lieutenant, because you had the skills necessary for their opening," he hissed. "They mentioned that the pay would be double what you have now, and you would have to live on the island that you'd be working on. Since your service is almost up and you've yet to make any indication of wanting to return for another tour of duty, I said that you would be willing to take the damn job."
Calming down some, Thompson sat back down, clearing his throat. He motioned for his irate lieutenant to take a seat in front of the mahogany desk, while the admiral himself shuffled some papers around to uncover a manila envelope addressed to Lieutenant Owen Grady. Thompson slid the paper over the polished wood to Owen. "The lead geneticist and marketing director left this for you, since you accepted through my intervention. This is a great opportunity for someone of your skills, Owen. Please trust me on this."
"What do you know about this offer that I don't, sir?" Owen asked respectfully and slowly, reaching out to pick up the envelope against his own will, finding the packet heavier than it looked.
Admiral Thompson's eyes analyzed Owen in a way that made Owen certain there was something off about this offer from out of nowhere. "Does this mean that you're accepting InGen's offer?" Thompson queried instead, trying to direct the conversation elsewhere.
"Depends on what you're withholding from me, sir," Owen rebutted with a rebellious edge to his voice. The offer was suspicious to say the least, especially with what had last occurred at an InGen facility roughly two decades ago, in the infamy of Jurassic Park. After seizing on the detail of his memory of the news reports about the disaster, the dots connected for Owen. "Does this have something to do with Jurassic Park?"
The admiral sighed and looked at Owen again. "What happened at Jurassic Park was all due to a terrible mistake. This time, InGen has spent decades correcting where they had gone wrong in the past. Having people like you in their park will keep an event like in 1992 from happening again."
"So you're hiring me out to a dinosaur feeding company?"
"Look in your envelope, Lieutenant Grady. All of your questions will be answered in there. But first I need to know: will you accept the offer?"
Glancing down at the thick file in his lap, Owen knew how this would go down. InGen would not give up easily, and frankly, neither would Admiral Thompson. Beyond that, Owen could feel his curiosity expand at what the makers of Jurassic Park could possibly want from him. A feeling similar to the one he felt when deciding to join the Navy swelled inside of him. Maybe if he would work at the park he could prevent anything horrific from ever happening. So, with a sense of resignation and unwavering suspicion, Owen rose from his seat and saluted his now former boss.
"Yes, sir."
