(Reuploaded because I realized I called the Beechcraft a "B-12".)

BioSyn Headquarters, California

8:45 Pm

Lewis Dodgson leaned back on his chair smugly, and placed his hands behind his head in a relaxed manner. The cereals were quite the bunch of employees. Not a good bunch, but the Ian Malcom sort of bunch. Annoying and snarky to the fullest.

He chuckled to himself as he squeezed a foam stress ball that had a happy looking face on it,Which looked less happy and more tortured.

Placing his stress ball on his office desk,

Dodgson moved his Apple computer mouse around for a few seconds before clicking on a folder called FILES. Opening the folder, he found the people he was looking for. Clicking on Halver's file first, he clicked DELETE, and clicked YES when the computer asked him for confirmation.

He then clicked on Halver's name for his daughter and smiled to himself as he clicked DELETE and YES. The computer promptly deleted the items.

As he trashed the two files, he chuckled to himself.

"Well then," he smiled, "won't be needing those."

Closing the file, Dodgson stood up from his chair

And walked to the door, before turning out the office light and slamming the door behind him.

Salt Lake City Swederdamn Regional airport

5:30 Am

Halver and Marie Cereal sat in the large regional airport terminal, waiting patiently for their plane.

Marie slowly flipped through her latest copy of

Reader's Digest magazine while Halver restlessly

Fiddled with his thumbs, glancing back and forth.

Marie looked up from her magazine and starred

At her extremely figety, shifty eyed husband.

"For heavens sake, Halver. Stop twitching."

Halver glanced at Marie, then glanced at the floor.

"I'm sorry, I'm just a bit anxious, you know?"

Marie gave a non-committal nod before reading a page about whole wheat bread and margarine.

Halver stood up from his seat and paced a few steps towards before turning around again.

Halver did this a few more times, before walking to the small Starbucks stand, lingering around before deciding to actually order something.

Halver waited awkwardly as the barista had her back turned to him, eating a Starbucks cookie.

"Could I have a cup of black coffee and a bagel?"

The barista turned around, chewing. "Hmmm?"

"I'd like a cup of coffee and a bagel, please."

The barista stopped chewing and placed her cookie next to the singular coffee maker in the stand.

"Yeah, okay. Hold on." The woman whistled a cheery tune to herself as she prepared the coffee.

Halver drummed his fingers impatiently as the woman continued her humming. Turning the other way, he decided to wave hi to his wife (who didn't notice him, I might add. Damn!)

Halver was delighted when he heard the ding of a microwave, turning around to watch the woman take the Luke-warm bagel out of the microwave. The barista walked over to a tub of sour cream.

"Hey, Do you want creme on your bagel, sir?"

Halver waved off the offer dismissively. "No."

The woman handed the cup of bitter, coffee and a bag containing some soggy, cheap, crappy bagel.

Smiling slightly, Halver paid for his poor 'Breakfast'

And walked over to his wife, sighing as he sat.

"Didn't get the satisfactory service you expected?"

Halver's wife joked, giving Halver a playful nudge.

"Hah. Hey, you want some of this stuff, Marie?"

Questioned Halver as he pulled the soggy bagel out of The paper bag that it had been put in.

Marie smirked as she eyed the brown bagel,

And broke into a laugh when Halver bit into it.

"Whuh's so phunny?" Halver questioned as he chewed a mouthful.

Marie giggled, putting a hand over her mouth.

Halver raised an eyebrow as he swallowed.

"You know what's REALLY funny, Marie?" Halver questioned.

"No, what? Is it the crappy format this story is put into?"

Halver nodded, then...hey! What are you doing? Come back here.

"No."

You can't ignore my order! Get back here right now!

"...No."

Where in the world do you two think you're going? Come here!

"...No, thanks. We're done with this weird format style."

But we haven't even finished the damn story! Don't leave now!

"...why should we stay? This story is kinda stale by now."

DON'T YOU SAY THAT, HALVER! If that even is your real name...

"It is. You kinda gave it to me for this story, you know."

...Right. So...I'm asking you to please return. The format sucks, but-

"But what?"

...but, I don't think it's THAT bad.

"Your entire story only has two follows and one like."

...To hell with this. Let me just click this real fast...

Ah! Here we go. Back to the story.

"...you know what's REALLY funny, Marie?"

"No, what?" Marie questioned, opening her magazine again.

"I've asked Alan grant over, and over, and over again. But..."

Halver drifted off into his thoughts, and leaned back on his seat.

"...I'm assuming you didn't get Alan grant to come along with us."

Halver nodded. "Exactly, Marie. Like I said before, I hoped he would."

Marie sighed as she looked at a Buick Ad, then she looked back up at Halver, who looked ridiculously tired, despite the coffee he had.

"Hey, sweetie, it's okay," Marie soothed as she squeezed his arm.

"It's not okay, we needed an expert to come along with us, y'know?"

Halver stared out the Airport terminal window, watching air traffic.

"Do you think Dodgson might of sent our daughter...out there?"

"What?"

"He had sent her to Sorna for "Research," but now I'm thinking..."

"Honey, Dodgson wouldn't do such thing...he wouldn't..."

Halver shook his head, and stared at Marie with slight terror.

"He could of. He might of done it on purpose...that BASTARD!"

Halver slammed his fist down on the chair armrest like he did at home whenever he was angry, forgetting that it wasn't a cushioned

Armrest, but a solid plastic one. "Honey, watch your temper,"

Marie whispered pointing to the few other people in the airport terminal and the barista who had watched his sudden outburst.

Halver sighed, and rubbed his head before sipping his coffee.

"Well, there's our flight," Marie noted as she pointed to a grey Beechcraft taxi up to to terminal. As the plane slowed down, Halver rose up from his seat. "We better get on real quick,"

He muttered as he picked up his bag. "Actually, we've got company,"

Marie announced, nudging his shoulder and pointing behind him.

Halver turned around to see a man in a polka dot shirt, khaki jeans,

And a tan fedora, trotting down the terminal with a small bag in hand.

"Well, I'll be damned! Doctor grant! You decided to come, I see?"

Alan walked towards them, out of breath. "It's a free flight, right?"

Alan questioned, holding his grey and worn bag in front of him.

"Hah, Hah! Yes, at least for you it is. Come along, come along."

The three of them walked out of the terminal towards the Beechcraft,

Which still had it's engines whirring and it's propellers spinning.

The Beechcraft's left side door opened, and a portly man walked up to greet the three. "Ah! Mr. And Mrs. Halver. Right on time."

The man glanced at Grant, who stood quietly behind the Cereals.

"And who is this fine gentleman you have brought with you?"

Alan stepped forwards and extended his arm to shake hands.

"Doctor Alan Grant. Pleasure to meet you, err-..." the portly man laughed, and gave Alan a slap on his back, which was awkward.

"Jones Tibelbow. Come on, we mustn't waste any time out here!"

Following the others up the left side door steps, Alan sighed.

Sitting down on a comfy seat behind the cereals, Alan wondered.

Did he really make the right call with deciding to come along?