There was silence for a moment as the two stared at each other.
"Hey." Steve whispered at last.
Tim did not respond. He just gazed at the warden with those big, almond eyes – Steve hadn't witnessed fear like that in a long while, and it wasn't something he regretted.
"Hey, it's okay." Steve continued with a smile that was intended to be reassuring, but was never going to be nearly enough.
"I've come to take you home matey." Then Steve noticed the strip of gaffer tape covering Tim's mouth, preventing the boy from making a sound.
Probably should have seen that before.
"Let's get that off you." The warden pointed to the tape. "But when I do, I need you to be really, really quiet - can you do that for me Timmy?"
Tim managed a tiny nod in reply, his eyes still fixed on Steve.
"Good lad."
Steve holstered his pistol and switched on his torch, placing it on a nearby box. He slowly moved towards the chair, approaching as one would a wild animal so as not to alarm the frightened youngster any more. Tim shied away from Steve's touch, straining to keep his small frame as far away from the warden as his bonds would allow.
"I won't hurt you matey. I promise."
Tim seemed to think for a moment, then slowly allowed Steve to come closer. The warden knelt beside him and gently supported the boy's head with both hands, feeling him shivering uncontrollably as he did so. Steve noticed he had no shirt on and was wearing only a torn pair of school shorts.
Jesus christ…
Steve carefully began to prise the tape away from Tim's mouth, running the fingers of his left hand down the back of the boy's neck as he did so – something he had used to do when calming the baby animals kept at the lodge back in Kenya. Thankfully, the tape came away quickly – apparently it had only recently been applied.
"There, I bet that feels better." Steve murmured. Tim promptly sneezed.
"W-W-Who… Who… Who are y-y-you?" He managed to stutter at last.
"Steve. You remember me?" Steve replied, making sure to keep eye contact as per Johnny's hostage care advice. "Jurassic Park, a couple of years ago? I was one of the park wardens. We escaped together." Then Steve remembered the blacking on his face and began scrubbing at it with his sleeve.
No wonder the poor lad's scared, I must look like a bloody gremlin!
"It's me, see?" A spark of recognition finally kindled in Tim's eyes and Steve saw his small body relax slightly.
"S-S-Steve? Y-Y-You were the one who k-k-killed the R-R-Raptors?" Tim asked, not quite believing his eyes.
"Me, kill the Raptors? I was under the impression it was them who damn near killed me…" Steve replied with a grin.
Tim managed a small smile in acknowledgement of this weak attempt at humour. Steve squeezed his shoulder comfortingly and knelt again to examine his bonds. The boy's wrists had been tied behind his back and his ankles to the chair he was perched on. Three cords were also looped around his chest, fastening him tightly to the back of the cold metal seat.
"Alrighty, we'll have you out of there in no time. Hold still for me."
Steve reached for his belt and drew his hunting knife, but the moment Tim saw the blade he jerked away, toppling the chair over backwards. Steve dropped the knife and caught the boy before he hit the ground.
"What's the matter matey?"
There was no reply. Tim just stared up at him, wide eyed and still trembling. Confused, Steve sat the chair back upright.
What's the problem with the knife?
"I'm just gonna cut through these ropes. There's nothing to worry about, okay?"
Tim studied Steve's wood ash smeared face intently. He forced himself to look at where the knife lay on the ground, then back at Steve again.
"Okay." Tim said finally, his voice barely audible.
Steve picked up his knife again. He moved slowly and, making sure to stay within Tim's vision, sliced through the ropes restraining the boy's ankles. Then he did the same for the cords around his chest, noting with displeasure the burn marks they left behind.
"See, nothing to worry about…" Steve repeated, gently lifting the youngster out of the chair and sitting him down on a nearby packing crate – he was surprisingly light. Then, he cut the ropes binding Tim's wrists, before taking off his jacket and wrapping it around the boy's bare shoulders.
"Thank you." Tim said softly.
"No problem matey. Give those hands a good old rub." Steve collected the remains of the restraints and hid them underneath an empty barrel.
Tim began massaging his wrists as instructed. "Did… Did my grandpa send you?" He asked hopefully.
"Sort of." Steve smiled. "But we'll have a chat about that later. Right now, we need to get you out of here."
Steve made as if to pick Tim up, but the boy pulled away at the mention of moving and tried to get to his feet. His legs wouldn't hold him though and he fell backwards awkwardly, but Steve was by his side in a flash and caught him once again.
"Woah there, take it easy."
"We can't go… We can't!" Tim protested frantically.
"Shh, it's okay." Steve tried to calm the boy, setting him back on the packing crates and sitting down beside him. "Why can't we?"
"They… They might do… Bad things… To Lex." Tim struggled to get the words out. "We can't go without her! He repeated desperately, tears beginning to well up in his eyes. Steve's heart went out to the youngster – he couldn't imagine how scary this must have been for him.
"I see. But don't you worry, nobody's going to leave your sister anywhere – I promise. Do you trust me, Timmy?" Tim looked up at Steve searchingly, his face streaked with tears. Steve imagined this was the first time in days he had the chance to trust anyone.
"They said we musn't try and escape any more, or else… Or else…" Tim's voice broke. Steve placed an arm around the boy's shoulders and held him tight, feeling Tim's eleven-year-old body trembling ever-so-slightly against his own. The boy huddled closer to Steve and buried his face in the safety of the warden's shoulder.
"It's okay matey, I've got you. It's gonna be okay." Steve murmured.
Kid gets attacked by a Rex, thrown off a cliff, falls out of a tree, gets electrocuted, almost eaten by a gang of Raptors, attacked by the Rex again and doesn't so much as blink an eye. Compare that to a few days with these blokes and he's in pieces. These scumbags have a lot to answer for.
Steve gently raised Tim's chin with his thumb and wiped away his tears with the sleeve of his jacket. "Deep breath for me."
Tim made a tremendous effort to control his breathing and, after a few moments, succeed. "S-S-Sorry…" He mumbled, a hint of shame creeping into his voice.
"None of this is your fault matey. They don't come much braver than you." Steve replied.
Tim's face broke into a smile at the compliment from his rescuer. Following the events on the island two years ago, the warden had become something of a legendary figure in the boy's eyes – Steve's heroics were such that his praise meant the world to Tim. At last, Dr. Allan Grant had competition. Slightly less spiky competition.
"Thanks." He replied. Steve ruffled his hair.
"Now look matey… I hate to have to ask you this, I really do, but I need to know what happened here. Is there anything you know that might help me find Lex?"
Tim thought for a moment, then began shakily.
"L-L-Lex and me tried to r-r-run away… I d-d-don't know how l-l-long ago. They caught us b-b-but we r-r-ran again… And then they t-t-took our c-c-clothes…"
Tim paused and, remembering Steve's instructions, took several deep breaths.
"Take your time." Steve squeezed the boy's shoulder.
But preferably not too much. We're on the clock here.
Thankfully, Tim continued quickly. "W-W-When we t-t-tried to g-g-get away last time, the men t-t-tied us up in here. Then… I don't know how l-l-long ago… Before it got d-d-dark I think… They came back for Lex and t-t-took her away w-w-with them. I h-h-haven't seen h-h-her since… I t-t-tried to s-s-stop them but I b-b-banged my h-h-head and… And… I c-c-couldn't do anything…" Tim looked close to tears again.
Steve stepped in. "It's not your fault matey. Trust me, those blokes are pretty big lads – even bloody Hulk Hogan would struggle to take them all on."
Tim didn't look entirely convinced, but more importantly, Steve was no closer to finding Lex. Still, the warden couldn't afford to let Tim know that.
"Anyway, that's just what I needed to know. Top work matey."
Tim managed a weak smile in response. Two compliments from the mythical dinosaur keeper? It was almost worth getting kidnapped for. Steve winked back and pressed the transmit button on his headset.
"I've got Tim." He explained simply. "Lex must be in one of the other tents."
"Great work, Steve-o." Eddy replied. "You gonna need backup?"
Steve considered this carefully. "What's it look like, gents?"
"All clear, señor." Rodriguez responded.
"Ditto." Johnny agreed.
"Okay, here's how we're gonna work it. Eddy, you go and find Lex. Johnny, get in position for extract, then go with Roddy to fetch the jeep – call in when you're good to go. Are we clear?"
"Copy that. Said Eddy.
"Affirmative." Said Johnny.
"Sí señor! Fry Tuck is moving out." Rodriguez replied happily. Steve broke off from the conversation, satisfied the wheels were in motion.
"There you go Timmy, a mate of mine's going to find Lex. She's gonna be fine."
Tim sniffed quietly and nodded. "Who's… 'Eddy'?" He asked.
"He's an old friend. Used to work at Jurassic Park with me." Steve explained.
"He's a dinosaur keeper too? Which ones?" Tim asked suddenly, instantly cheering up at the mention of the prehistoric creatures. Steve smiled as he saw the boy's eager expression – his passion for dinosaurs had apparently not been quashed by the events of two years ago; he was just as fascinated as the warden remembered.
"Triceratops." Steve lied, not wanting to mention Raptors at this point, despite Tim's interest. "If you ask him nicely, I'm sure he'll tell you all about them later on."
Tim was apparently delighted at this notion. "That's so cool!"
"I reckon." Steve agreed. "Now then, shall we see about getting you out of here?"
"I guess." Tim's stutter had disappeared at the first mention of dinosaurs and he was almost instantly much calmer. Steve got to his feet, picked up his torch and offered the boy his hand.
"Let's see if you can stand."
Tim swayed and only managed two steps before his legs began to buckle. Steve caught him again, then had a sudden realisation.
"Timmy, you said you banged your head – how bad?" He asked.
"It's okay…" Tim brushed the question off.
"Can I have a look?"
"I guess…" Tim repeated noncommittally.
Steve bent down and gently brushed the boy's blond curls off his forehead, revealing a large gash hidden beneath. The warden cursed himself soundly as he saw the surrounding hair was matted with blood.
Why didn't I check to see if he was hurt?! Idiot!
As Steve's fingers approached the injury, he felt Tim tensing up in preparation for the pain he was obviously expecting. The cut had clearly bled profusely, and even now it hadn't completely stopped.
l'm no expert, but I'd say leaking that much can't be healthy.
Steve lowered himself to Tim's eye level. "Don't worry matey, it's just a little cut. Did you hear me talk to Johnny just then?"
Tim nodded.
"Well, Johnny's a doctor – we're going to go and see him. He'll get you all fixed up, but for now, I'll carry you. Okay?"
The boy was too weak to protest.
Steve lifted Tim up and carried him in his arms towards the hole in the back of the tent. The boy was lightly built and easy for someone of the warden's stature to carry, so they were able to make their way straight through the hole in the canvas and out into the night. The weather had turned chilly and, despite the jacket, Steve could feel Tim shivering once again.
'Angry' was not an emotion the Muldoon family looked favourably upon – Bob had always encouraged his son to look upon situations calmly and find a peaceable solution for all concerned. However, upon the rare occasions that 'angry' reared its ugly countenance, the situation usually did not end well for the antagonists. The fury of a Muldoon was, thus, not something one should wish to incur, but Steve was angry now. The warden was positively fuming.
How dare they kidnap these kids, hadn't they been through enough already? Bastards trussed them up like chickens and now it turns out they've beaten Tim…
At least, Steve doubted Tim had voluntarily head-butted a sharp object.
Well, this ain't right. Not cricket. Not something I'm about to let go.
Bob had also said often that the main characteristic of the family was a powerful sense of right and wrong – something Steve had most definitely inherited. And if that didn't apply to this situation, Steve didn't know what did.
I'll find a way to make these wankers pay.
Another Muldoon trademark was an exceptional vocabulary of obscenities.
Steve picked his way through the darkness towards the breach in the fence. As he approached, he could see Johnny crouching on the other side, furiously demonstrating an impressive command of obscure military hand gestures. Ignoring his antics, Steve set Tim down on the ground and whispered in his ear.
"Okay Timmy, keep nice and low and you'll be fine. No climbing for you this time."
The boy barely acknowledged the instruction but somehow found the energy to drag himself under the fence. Johnny suddenly forgot about his signalling and helped Tim clamber to his feet, catching him when he collapsed almost immediately. The ex-marine looked at Steve questioningly from the other side of the wire. The warden lay down and pulled his torso under the fence so he could speak to Johnny.
"He's got a nasty cut on his head which needs seeing to." Steve explained, keeping his voice low so Tim couldn't hear. "Only thing he's got on is that jacket, so better kit him out with something warm to wear. Also, can you see about getting him something to eat? Reckon the poor lad's exhausted."
Johnny nodded in response and carefully lifted Tim onto his shoulder, carrying him away from the fence to where Rodriguez was keeping watch from the tree line. Steve was about to pull the remainder of himself out from under the fence when his earpiece crackled into life. It was Eddy.
"So, d'ya want the good news or the bad news?"
"Good news." Steve sighed, abandoning his efforts to leave the campsite.
"Good news is, I found the girl." The Texan replied. "Bad news is, they handcuffed her to a god dang packin' box. I tried filin' through it, but no dice – we're gonna need the key."
"And does she know where the key is?"
"Yeah, but you're not gonna like it."
"Let me guess… In the tent with all the blokes in?"
"You got it."
"Then you're right, I'm not gonna like it. I'm gonna love it."
Eddy was silent for a moment. Then, "You feelin' okay?" He enquired.
Steve chuckled. "On top of the world. Meet me outside."
The warden crept across the compound towards the tent he had seen the two men enter, the sound of laughter growing ever louder as he approached. Moments later, Eddy joined him outside.
"You sure about this?" The Texan asked worriedly.
"Can you think of another way? Besides, you didn't see what they did to Tim. Will be a bloody pleasure putting the frighteners on these bastards." Steve whispered back. "You coming, or what?"
"You know full well I ain't lettin' you go in there alone, but just so you know, I think you're crazy." Said Eddy, already resigned to the prospect.
"Oh, I'm crazy alright." Steve words were mirthless as he drew his weapon. "Completely stark, staring mad."
Eddy also drew his pistol, struggling to suppress a smile as he did so. Mad or not, Steve was a proper character with his heart in the right place – and truth be told, Eddy would follow him anywhere.
Together, they moved closer to the tent flap. Steve motioned to Eddy to flank the entrance and the Texan obeyed silently, gripping his handgun firmly and crouching like a leopard ready to spring.
Enough wildlife analogies. Time to get down to business.
Steve held three fingers on his left hand aloft. Eddy nodded his understanding. The young warden dropped one finger. Then two. Then three. And then they went in.