Disclaimer: Primeval does not belong to me. This is fan fiction, not for profit.

Any references to people, places, businesses etc is entirely fictitious.

A/N: story takes place after Detour.

10.3 Arrivals

in time…

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Becker woke several hours later as the plane's movement changed. Across the aisle, Lester's brother still sat upright. The man was absorbed in the laptop open before him.

"Are we landing?" asked Becker.

The dark haired head snapped up. The man turned to gaze at Becker. His eyebrow arched up in a familiar gesture, but the steely gray eyes that stared at Becker now were not the familiar green eyes of James Lester.

"We're on our descent," confirmed Lester's brother. He turned back to the laptop.

Becker glanced at his watch. It was now 8:07. London time, Becker reminded himself. He pushed the little window shade up and peered out. Becker blinked. He recognized the terrain. Becker had been there before.

"We're approaching Camp Bastion," said Becker.

Lester's brother looked up from his work.

"You didn't think this flight was your personnel air-taxi did you?" asked the man.

"No," said Becker.

Last night, the soldier had thought he was very lucky to be allowed on a military transport for a non-military reason. Lester obviously had connections in high places. The Captain had also wondered how many strings Lester had to pull to arrange Becker's flight, but now he had another question.

"What are we doing in Afghanistan?"

-x-x-x-x-x-x

Becker leaned against the stairs to the airplane. Lester's brother had answered Becker's earlier question with a sharp reminder that details of this military flight were strictly on a need to know basis.

"And you," sniffed the man, "don't need to know."

The shade provided by the aircraft was very welcome. The bright noonday sun beat down on the tarmac at Camp Bastion. The runway felt much warmer than the seventy degree temperature the pilot had announced as he turned off the engines. Becker turned on his cell phone the moment he stepped off the aircraft. A series of text messages and photographs from Jess greeted him. The first message had been sent shortly after Becker had spoken to Jess last night.

"Wedding preparations ended early. Packing a picnic and off to Bondi with Evie, Kate, Gillian and Richard!"

The first picture appeared to be taken from path along the side of a cliff. Sharp jagged rocks dropped off to sparkling water. A metallic frame work covered in some fluffy fabric filled the right side of the picture. The caption read "Kate said this is the biggest outdoor sculpture exhibition in Australia."

Another picture of Jess standing between her sister Evie and a slender man followed. The three were standing on sand behind an openwork metal sculpture that silhouetted several female figures. There was no caption on this picture and Becker noted the timestamp on the image was nearly three hours after the previous picture.

The second voicemail message was barely intelligible. The sound of waves crashing could be heard and an occasional word. "Hil… beautiful… love… miss." The message was cut off.

Becker pressed the call button on his phone. Jess picked up just before the phone sent his call to voicemail.

"Hil!" squealed a happy voice. "Where are you?"

Becker's lips curled up in a smile at the sound of her voice. In the background, Becker heard dishes clattering.

"Flight stopped for refueling," answered Becker without really answering the question. "Where are you?"

"We left Bondi and stopped at a place called Gelato Messina," answered Jess. "You've got to see this! Wait a minute."

The voice stopped and in a moment, Becker's phone vibrated with the arrival of yet another picture. A brightly colored red and white mushroom shaped object sat upon a green base. Becker barely had time to look at the picture before Jess's ring tone could be heard again.

"Is that a sculpture or what?" asked Becker.

"We left Bondi about half an hour ago and stopped in Darlinghurst for dessert on the way back to Kate's flat," answered Jess. "The picture shows a Mini Me, dark chocolate gelato, dulce de leche, peanut…"

Becker's chuckles interrupted Jess's description of the dessert.

"What time is it?" asked Becker. "I thought it was only about five in Sydney."

"It's just after five o'clock," agreed Jess.

"Are you going to spoil your dinner?" teased Becker. They both shared a laugh at that comment.

For a woman with such a slender build, Becker was continually amazed at how much food Jess could eat. And she never seemed to gain weight.

"Chocolate doesn't have any calories," Jess always insisted.

The sound of the restaurant nearly drowned out Jess's next question.

"Hil, what time does your flight arrive?" asked Jess. "I want to make sure I'm at the airport when you arrive."

Becker glanced across the tarmac at Lester's brother. The man was staring off in the distance.

"Don't wait at the airport for me," said Becker. "We won't be taking off until the other passengers arrive."

"What? Flights are supposed to leave on time! Since when do airlines hold flights for late people?"

Jess's tirade stopped abruptly.

"What kind of flight did Lester arrange?" asked Jess suspiciously.

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Becker sighed in relief as the dusty trail of a military four wheel drive vehicle appeared in the distance. It had been several hours since he'd explained to Jess that he was waiting on a military flight.

"Don't wait for me," ordered Becker.

Kate, Gillian, Evie and Richard were all going up to Gillian's parent place after they finished their gelato. It was a four hour drive to Gillian's childhood home just past Canaberra and the group wanted to be there for an early start on the trail ride Friday morning. Jess had planned to stay behind at Kate's flat in Sydney and meet Becker's plane Friday morning.

"You've been looking forward to that trail ride," reminded Becker. "I don't want you to miss out on that just because my flight is running late."

"Hil, I miss you," replied Jess. "A trail ride can wait."

"But I'm not even going to be there, and Hank's working," reminded Becker, "you should go with Kate, Gillian, and Evie. Have fun, don't miss the trail ride."

The Jackal pulled up near the steps of the plane. The driver saluted. A short rounded man climbed laboriously down from the passenger side of the four wheel drive vehicle. Lester's brother greeted the new comer.

"It's about time you got here," said the gray eyed man.

"Traffic was murder," replied the shorter man as he peeled off his brown pakol, exposing his bright red hair.

Becker stepped out of the shadows of the airplane stairs. The soldier stared in surprise. Jess's father stared back at him in equal surprise.

"You did not see me here!" admonished George Parker.

Becker's mouth opened to say something, but Lester's brother spoke first.

"Let's get going, shall we?" asked the man. "None of us have been here today."

-x-x-x-x-x-x

The remainder of the flight was uneventful until the plane landed. Becker disembarked and looked at the identification sign on the terminal building.

"Perth? What are we doing in Perth?" asked Becker. "Sydney is on the other side of the continent!"

"Sorry," said Lester's brother. "There's been an unexpected change of plans. We've got to be somewhere else. Best we can do really."

"There are commuter flights," added Jess's father. "It won't be a problem. You can get to Sydney today."

"Are you going to be in Sydney for Hank and Gillian's wedding?" asked Becker.

Jess's father shook his head no.

"But I'm not going to miss your wedding!" shouted Jess's father as the door to the aircraft pulled shut.

-x-x-x-x-x-x

The reservation agent assured Becker that there were plenty of commuter flights from Perth to Sydney, but available seats on a Friday were something else entirely. Becker was put on standby status and promised a reservation on the last flight that evening if nothing else became available sooner. Becker tried to call Jess, but there was no connection. He knew the area of the trail ride had limited cell phone reception, so Becker figured he would try again later.

"You've got to watch out for hooligans," sniffed an indignant voice. Another voice could be heard trying to shush her.

Becker turned his head at the sound of the US accent. A brassy haired tourist was staring at him. When she realized Becker had heard her, the woman narrowed her eyes and glared at the soldier. Becker shook his head wondering what on earth he'd done to offend her. Then he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the chrome surrounding the arrival and departure board.

"Oh."

The airport washroom had plenty of hot water. Becker washed up and shaved. A clean change of clothes and a meal at the airport lounge made him feel like a new man. When the ringtone announced a call from Jess, Becker eagerly answered the phone. The sound of Jess's voice made his eyes glow.

"What time is your flight arriving?" asked Jess after she finished telling him the wonders of driving through Australia and the trail ride in the Snowy Mountain region.

"Seven twenty."

-x-x-x-x-x-x

The Boeing 747 with a white kangaroo emblazoned across its red tail touched down in Sydney over an hour and forty minutes late. Becker was the last person off the airplane. As he entered the terminal, Becker looked eagerly for Jess. She was nowhere to be seen. Becker checked his cell phone.

"Hil," said Jess on the first message, "Hank and I are at the international arrivals terminal and don't see anything listed to arrive at 7:20. What flight are you on?"

Becker pressed the second message and listened.

"Hil, call me when you get this message," said Jess's voice. "I'm standing in front of the international arrivals sign at terminal one. I don't know what flight number you are on. Where are you?"

Becker pressed the third message and listened again.

"I must have got the flight time wrong," said Jess. She sounded worried to Becker's ears. "Hank and Gillian's last singles night party is at the Oxford Art Factory. He has to be there and he won't leave me here alone. So I'm going with him and I'll be there with the rest of the family. Call me when you get this message please. I'll take a taxi back to come get you."

The time on that message was just five minutes ago. Becker tried calling Jess back, but his phone was dying. He looked at the arrivals gate and didn't see any international flights listed. The bored looking young man at the information booth looked up as Becker approached.

"Where is the international arrivals sign?" asked Becker.

"In terminal one," responded the young man.

"Where?" repeated Becker impatiently. The soldier gestured with his hands looking around the terminal.

"This is terminal three," answered the young man. He pointed. "Through those doors, to the left, and take the white shuttle van."

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