Chapter 3: Old Friends & Hidden Enemies

Biosyn Corporation Headquarters, Cupertino, California, May 1997

The metal doors flew open with a concussive bang, instantly igniting an eruption of barks and howls. The noise made Jeffrey Rossiter jump as well, whirling around to see the cause of the commotion. He couldn't help but frown at the sight of the man as he entered the room. The dogs seemed to feel the same way, for they kept their eyes locked on him, tracking him as he went by, barking all the while.

Rossiter sighed and shook his head. "Jesus," he muttered. "Did you have to make such a ruckus, Dodgson?"

Lewis Dodgson gave a sly smile. "Of course," he said casually. "I needed to get the dogs barking, after all."

"You didn't need to throw the door open to do that," Rossiter commented.

Jeffrey Rossiter was an older man in his late fifties, with a hooked nose and black hair, though it was beginning to grey. He was a large man who wore a dark Italian suit. Rossiter happened to be CEO of Biosyn Corporation, one of many biogenetics companies. He usually didn't find himself in such a dank and dirty room. Rossiter liked peace, quiet, and comfort. This place, the animal quarters of the building, was the opposite of that. It was loud, smelly, and dirty: the polar opposite of comfort. Yet, though Rossiter would prefer the comfort of his own office, found himself in such a place anyway. All at the whims of the man before him.

Lewis Dodgson.

Dodgson was a man who was older than he looked. He was in his early forties, but he looked as though he was only in his thirties. He had thick, blonde hair that was combed back. His features were youthful and baby-faced, his chin and upper lip were well shaved, and the man was quite fit. Dodgson, when in the presence of strangers, was typically mild-mannered and expressionless. He even looked… innocent, in a way.

But Rossiter knew this was far from the truth.

Appearances can be deceiving. Lewis Dodgson, despite his young and innocent appearance, was without a doubt the most ruthless and aggressive geneticist of his generation. Rossiter was one of the few who knew how far Dodgson had gone to get what he wanted. When he was a graduate student at Hopkins, he had been dismissed for planning humane gene therapy without permission from the FDA. Later, after joining Biosyn, Dodgson had experimented in Chile, testing a rabies vaccine on illiterate farmers. The subjects never knew they were even being tested.

Dodgson had always excused himself as being a scientist in a hurry, with no time to cut red tape and bypass regulations set up for "lesser souls." He described himself as being "results-oriented," but Rossiter knew what this really meant. Dodgson would do whatever was necessary to achieve his goals. Often, this included stealing a product from another company and making it his own. Despite presenting himself as a researcher, Dodgson never really did any research of his own. Rossiter doubted if he even had the capability of doing so. He was, however, excellent at "developing" research. In other words, he was a master thief, stealing someone else's work at an early stage without them even realizing it.

Rossiter had made Dodgson the head of Biosyn's reverse-engineering department, though it was for his talents rather than his personality. He had no illusions about Dodgson. Rossiter disliked him greatly. He hated him. He tried avoiding him whenever he could. Dodgson made him uneasy with all of his risks and corner-cutting. But Dodgson was an asset. The modern biotechnology industry was highly competitive, and to stay competitive, Rossiter knew that Biosyn needed someone like Lewis Dodgson. And, as it so happened, Dodgson was very good at his job.

"Why do you need the dogs barking?" Rossiter asked, glancing wearily at the barking dogs.

"Secrecy," Dodgson replied simply.

"Secrecy? Can't we have just gone to my office?" Rossiter asked. "I hate this fucking place," he then added under his breath.

"Your office is too quiet," Dodgson said. "It might be isolated, but that doesn't make it hidden from unwanted ears. However," Dodgson gestured towards the obnoxious dogs, "here there's no chance anyone can hear us."

"I can barely hear you," Rossiter commented.

"Then listen up," Dodgson said, "cause we need to be quick."

"Then get on with it, Lew," Rossiter said irritably. He then glanced at his watch and said, "It stinks in here."

Dodgson sighed. "We can talk in here," he said. Dodgson gestured towards a small superintendent's booth with glass walls. The two quickly made their way, slipping inside and closing the doors behind them. The glass walls dulled the sound of the barking dogs, but not by too much. And it still stank in here, even if not by as much.

"Look," Dodgson then said, "it's simple, but I think it's important." He sighed, and continued, "If we act quickly, I think we have a chance at finally getting InGen's technology."

Rossiter sighed. "Not again…"

"I know," Dodgson said, reading Rossiter's thoughts. "I admit that there's a bit of history here."

"History?" Rossiter said. "You mean the history of your failures?"

Four years ago, Dodgson had come to Rossiter and the other executive board members of the company. He had come with one hell of a claim, and some evidence to back it up. According to Dodgson, InGen had somehow figured out how to clone real-life dinosaurs. Something involving amber. These dinosaurs were living on a Costa Rican island, and InGen was preparing a theme park to present them to the world. However, Dodgson had a plan. He had been able to hire a disgruntled programmer, promising a whopping one and a half million dollars if he was able to bring back the DNA of fifteen dinosaur species. If successful, Dodgson would do what he did best: reversing the technology, recreating it, and claiming it as his own.

Of course, he needed Rossiter and the executives for permission. They had been doubtful at first, but evidence from the programmer himself had eventually swayed them into believing. They had decided to support Dodgson, dreaming of the mountain of money he promised they would receive by attaining this technology for themselves. They had given Dodgson half of the total amount - seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars - which Dodgson gave to the programmer as a down payment. That by itself was quite expensive, but dinosaurs, at the time, seemed to be worth the money.

Not after the plan failed, though. Rossiter wasn't sure exactly what happened. A storm or something hit the island. The programmer never made it to the boat. Biosyn had a backup plan in case this happened. After all, the programmer was supposedly quite large and quite unathletic. They had sent two more agents to the island to retrieve the DNA, promising half a million dollars split between them. However, neither of them returned either, and neither did the money.

InGen never did end up opening their park. Rumor had it that the dinosaurs had broken free and taken over the island. That was also what probably had happened to their agents. That or they decided to run off with the money they had. The statements given by Doctor Ian Malcolm confirmed this, but this didn't matter. Not to Rossiter. They had lost one and a quarter-million dollars. It wasn't as bad as what InGen had lost, but it was still pretty bad.

Now Dodgson was back, bringing up that catastrophic failure. Rossiter already knew approximately what he would say. Some sort of new plan to get dinosaur DNA and make back the money they'd lost. Rossiter had agreed to it before, but now the failures resulting from that decision weighed heavily on his mind. Rossiter remembered that Hammond had recently been removed from being CEO of InGen. Another failure like before, and Rossiter may end up in the same situation.

"Yes, that history," Dodgson admitted. "But let's not forget -"

"What I can't forget," Rossiter interjected. "That we paid your friend Nedry three-quarters of a million dollars and didn't get so much as a penny to show for it. Not to mention that half a million we spent on those agents, which also left us empty-handed. Those plans of yours ended in nothing but failures. Complete fucking failures. That is what I can't forget."

"But did you forget why we spent that money?" Dodgson asked. "It wasn't on a whim. It was on revolutionary technology. Technology that would secure this company's future for decades to come. It's vital to our future."

"So you say," Rossiter said doubtfully.

"The world is changing, Jeff," Dodgson said. Rossiter grimaced. He hated when Dodgson used his first name. It sounded unnatural coming from him. But Dodgson ignored his expression and continued.

"I'm not talking about building some exotic zoo," he said. "I'm not talking about copying some bed-ridden, senile old man's dream. I'm talking about solving one of the major problems our company faces in the coming century."

"And what is that?" Rossiter asked.

Dodgson pointed out towards the barking dogs, whose noise could be easily heard through the windows. "Animal testing," Dodgson declared. "Let's face it, Jeff: we get more and more pressure from animal rights activists and environmentalists every year. We get more protests, demonstrations, and even break-ins. We are getting more and more bad press. It used to be just zealots and a few Hollywood celebrities, but now it's an entire bandwagon! University philosophers are arguing that it's unethical to subject dogs, monkeys, and even rats to the 'indignities' of laboratory research. We've had protests about our 'exploitation' of squid even though they're served on dinner tables all over the world! I'm telling you, Jeff, there's no end to this trend. One day, I swear to God, they'll be protesting our experimentation of bacteria.

"Oh, come on," Rossiter scoffed.

"I swear, it'll happen," Dodgson said. "Just you wait. It'll shut us down." Dodgson gave Rossiter a sly grin, making Rossiter uneasy. "Unless we get… creative. Consider this: an artificial animal."

"What do you mean?" Rossiter asked.

"An animal that is genuinely created," Dodgson said. "An animal that is not born, but made. An extinct animal that is brought back to life is, for all intents and purposes, not an animal at all. It was never meant for the modern world. So, unlike modern animals, they can't have any rights. It's already extinct! It can only exist by being made. If we make it, and if we patent it, we own it, and it will be the perfect replacement for what we have now. Dinosaurs aren't actually too different from mammals. We believe that they have identical enzyme and hormonal systems. We can test drugs on small dinosaurs as successfully as we do now on small dogs, only without the protests and without the legal challenges."

Rossiter shook his head doubtfully. "So you think."

"I don't think, I know," Dodgson said. "Dinosaurs are just lizards but bigger, and no one loves a lizard. Not as much as those cute doggies that lick your hand and break your heart. Lizards are cold and slimy. They have no personality. They're just snakes with legs."

Rossiter sighed and rubbed his temples. He couldn't help but feel that Dodgson was making some good points, but he would not forget the last time they gambled for that technology. Those conflicting interests clashed in Rossiter's mind, and it was creating one hell of a headache.

"Jeff," Dodgson continued, "I'm not just talking about making money off of some theme park. I'm talking about real freedom, here. Right now, everything to do with a living animal is tied up in legal and moral knots. Big-game hunters can't shoot any of the animals their fathers and grandfathers once hunted freely. Now they have to sign all sorts of forms, get all sorts of licenses, pay all sorts of expenses, and all with plenty of guilt. But imagine this: a specially stocked hunting preserve, in Africa or Asia, where people of wealth can hunt dinosaurs freely in a natural setting. Hunters all over the world have a stuffed elk head on their wall, but how many can claim to have the snarling head of a Tyrannosaurus hanging just above the bar?"

"You're not serious," Rossiter said.

"I'm dead serious," Dodgson responded. "But that's not the point. The point is that these animals are totally exploitable. We can do anything with them. Anything we want!"

Rossiter sighed again, sticking his hands into his pockets as he pondered Dodgson's speech. The more he thought about it, the more appealing the idea seemed to Rossiter. If they could just get their hands on dinosaur DNA, the possibilities were practically endless. They could make dinosaur zoos, dinosaur hunting preserves, or even sell dinosaurs as pets! The income would surely be as endless as the possibilities dinosaurs could provide them. All of their financial problems would be solved. Dodgson's failures would be remedied almost instantly. Moreover, Biosyn would find itself among the richest companies in history. Rossiter would find himself among the richest men in history. Among those like Rockefeller, Carnegie, and even Mansa Musa.

But there was just one problem.

"But Lew," Rossiter said, "weren't the dinosaurs destroyed?"

"Jurassic Park was destroyed," Dodgson corrected. "As were all of the dinosaurs on Isla Nublar. But we've just learned of the existence of a second island. A Site B."

Rossiter cocked his head as he gave Dodgson a surprised look. "There's a second island with dinosaurs on it?" he asked.

Dodgson nodded. "But it gets even better," he added. "Isla Nublar was heavily guarded, being the site of InGen's park and all. That's why we needed someone on the inside to sneak the dinosaurs out. But this is different. This island was for producing dinosaurs, and after a hurricane hit it a few years ago, it has been left completely deserted. No fences, no people, no security. Nothing but a few dinosaurs wandering free around the island. All we have to do is walk in, take some samples, and get out. Then we can clone as many dinosaurs as we please. It will literally be a walk in the park."

"Where the hell did you get all of this info?" Rossiter asked, caught off guard by how much the geneticist knew.

Dodgson smirked. "It was mostly thanks to our good friend Doctor Malcolm."

"Ian Malcolm?" Rossiter said. He didn't know much about the man, other than that he was supposedly on the island when InGen's park failed. Rossiter remembered that he had spoken out against InGen, only to be slammed by their lawyers for spreading lies. Of course, they weren't actually lies, but InGen had been determined to make them seem as such.

"We recently intercepted a call from Hammond to Malcolm," Dodgson explained. "Hammond wanted Malcolm to meet him. Naturally, I had our agents intercept him on the way to his estate. One of our agents was able to stick a small microphone onto Malcolm without him noticing. Good thing he did, or else we would have missed out on all of the juicy details."

Dodgson's expression suddenly fell into a serious grimace. "But we have to act fast. Malcolm's preparing an expedition to the island. Something about rescuing his girlfriend."

"That doesn't sound like anything that would interfere with us," Rossiter commented.

"Sure," Dodgson said, "but Hammond only sent her there in the first place because he wants to document the dinosaurs before InGen ransacks the place."

"So Hammond has become an environmentalist," Rossiter observed, remembering a few rumors he had heard.

"It seems so," Dodgson said, "but his executive board members have not. Hammond fears that they'll pillage the island of its resources."

Rossiter could guess what resources Dodgson was referring to. Giving him a concerned look, he asked, "When will that happen?"

"That Hammond wasn't very specific about," Dodgson admitted, "but it will probably be soon. Very soon." Dodgson sighed. "Once more, our window of opportunity is closing, and closing fast." Dodgson gave Rossiter a serious look. "We need to act now, or not at all."

Rossiter sighed, shaking his head. "Damn it, Dodgson," he muttered. Having their own dinosaurs could propel Biosyn into becoming the richest biogenetics company in the country, or possibly in the world. People across the planet would pay anything to see real-life dinosaurs, and as Dodgson said, they could do whatever with those dinosaurs as they pleased. But, Rossiter just couldn't forget the last time Dodgson formulated a plan to steal InGen's technology. Over a million dollars was wasted, and Rossiter's approval amongst the company plummeted as a result. Of course, if this plan succeeded, that failure would be remedied. And considering that this island was left undefended, success was far more likely. The only thing that could stand in their way was InGen, and if they acted fast enough, they might be able to make their own dinosaurs before InGen could take back theirs.

Rossiter sighed again, but this time definitively. He had made a decision. He just hoped it wasn't the wrong one.

"Alright, fine," Rossiter said. "Do it."

Dodgson nodded gratefully and said, "Thank you."

However, Rossiter wasn't done. "But I have three conditions," he said. "I'm only going to give you a quarter of a million dollars. That's it."

Dodgson didn't seem satisfied, but he nodded and said, "I can make that work."

"I also don't want you going to that island yourself," Rossiter added.

This time, Dodgson was not so accepting. "What?" he exclaimed. "But I have to go! If this is going to work, I need to make sure everything goes according to plan!"

"But that's the thing, Dodgson," Rossiter said, "you don't have control. You might be able to lead your expedition, but you have no power over those animals."

"I'll be careful, I promise," Dodgson said. "I don't plan to capture the animals. I'll just get a few samples and get out."

"Your team will get the samples," Rossiter said. "I want you to stay right here with me, where you will be perfectly safe."

"But -"

"Look, Lew," Rossiter interrupted, "you're the head of our reverse-engineering section, and you're one of our best geneticists. I trust that you would survive and that your expedition would only benefit from your presence, but I can't risk losing you to those animals. You can choose whoever is on this team, and you can choose whoever is in charge of it, but you are staying here. That is my second condition and my direct order."

Dodgson sighed and regretfully nodded. "Fine," he said. "What's your third condition?"

"That this is the end of it," Rossiter answered firmly. "I want to make this clear, Lew. This is it. This is the last time. Either your team gets the animals now, or it's over. This is the last fucken time. Got it?"

Dodgson sighed again, clearly having some issues with Rossiter's conditions. But Rossiter would not budge. He may have folded, approving Dodgson's little plan, but it would be the last time he would do so. If Dodgson failed, then that would be that.

Fortunately, Dodgson didn't protest. He simply nodded in understanding and said, "Don't worry. This time, we'll have them."


Thorne Mobile Field Systems, San Diego, California

Upon deciding to join her father's trip, a plan began to form in Kelly's mind. But she couldn't properly prepare it in the trailers, where she might be caught. So she grabbed Arby and, despite his protests, dragged him out of and away from the trailers.

"Oh, come on!" Arby protested. "Can't we stay a little longer?"

"What happened to staying out of trouble?" Kelly quipped.

Arby remained silent but glanced wistfully back at the trailers.

Seeing this, Kelly said, "Don't worry, you can still look at the shiny toys."

Arby spun his head around, giving her a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

Kelly glanced around, making sure no one was listening in. Then, in a low voice, she said, "I mean we're going to be joining my father's little trip."

Arby sighed. "I'm assuming that means he expressly said you weren't going."

"But he didn't tell me why," Kelly retorted.

"Probably because he doesn't want you to," Arby said.

"Well, he also didn't tell me where he was going," Kelly said. "I need to find out what this trip is and why it's so special. So, I have a plan."

"Let me guess," Arby said, "we're sneaking onto the boat?"

"I was actually thinking we would sneak into and hide in the trailers," Kelly corrected. "That'll let you get a good look at your precious computers."

"Well, why do you want me to go?" Arby asked.

"Because you're an important part of my plan," Kelly responded. "I figured it would only be fair to let you come as well."

"So what is this plan of yours?" Arby asked.

Kelly glanced around once more before, in a soft whisper, she shared her plan with Arby. Right before Malcolm and his team left for their trip, Kelly and Arby would sneak into the trailers and hide wherever they could, probably any sort of storage compartment. Before that, though, they would need to get some supplies. After all, they didn't know how long this trip would be. They would need food, water, and possibly even somewhere to use the bathroom (this realization led to the decision that they would hide in separate compartments, in case they could sneak to the trailer bathrooms without getting caught).

To get their supplies, Kelly would need Arby to persuade his mother to drive them to a nearby store. Of course, they couldn't do so without an explanation, not to mention they couldn't just vanish without giving Mrs. Benton a good excuse. So, Kelly formulated a little lie to fool Arby's mother. Kelly would say that she was going on Malcolm's trip, and Arby was invited to go with them. Malcolm would also have permitted them to buy some snacks for themselves, allotting for a trip to the store.

If Arby's mom asked any questions, Kelly and Arby would try to answer them the best they could. For example, if she asked where they were going, Kelly would say they were going on a simple camping trip somewhere in the US. Perhaps Wyoming or Montana. She would say they were going to Costa Rica, but she didn't want Arby's mother forbidding the trip due to it being in a foreign country.

As for Ian Malcolm, Kelly would try to convince Mrs. Benton that he was too busy preparing for the trip to confirm in person. Fortunately, while Arby's parents were well aware of Malcolm's accusations against InGen, the friendship between Kelly and Arby had built a friendship and trust between the adults. They didn't believe what Malcolm said was true, nor did they care. Arby's parents were familiar with Malcolm enough to know he wasn't crazy, or at least the kind of crazy that would put their son in danger.

Was the plan risky? Sure. Kelly and Arby could get caught before the charter leaves, or Arby's mom could talk to Malcolm herself and discover the truth. But it was a risk Kelly was willing to take. She had to go on this trip. She had to figure out the purpose of this expedition. She had to get closer to her father.

After explaining the plan to Arby, Kelly said, "You ready?"

"What, you mean right now?" Arby asked, his eyes wide. "We're doing this now?"

"Now or never," Kelly responded. "You can stay behind if you want," she then offered. "I only need your mother to get me to the store so I can get some supplies." Kelly then smirked. "Though, if you do stay, you won't get much of a chance to look at those fancy computers."

Arby sighed, shaking his head. Eventually, though, Arby looked back at her and said, "Fine. I'll go."

"Great!" Kelly said with a smile. "Let's go!"


Eddie placed the metal case down on the table with a thud. Malcolm walked up behind him as Eddie flipped a couple of latches and opened the case. A silver rifle rested on black foam, with an aluminum canister hanging beneath the barrel.

"This is a Lindstradt Air Rifle," Eddie explained. "It fires a subsonic Fluger impact-delivery dart."

"Does it work any better than your satellite phone?" Malcolm asked sarcastically.

"That's funny," Eddie said dryly. He proceeded to crack open the cartridge bank, revealing a row of plastic containers. They were each filled with a strange liquid and were tipped with a needle about three inches long. They also had a bright yellow tag which, in large, bold letters, warned, "EXTREME DANGER! LETHAL TOXICITY!"

"I loaded the darts with the enhanced venom from the Conus purpurascens, the South Sea cone shell," Eddie continued. "It's the most powerful neurotoxin in the world. Acts within a two-thousandth of a second, faster than the nerve conduction velocity. The animal's down before it feels the -" Eddie made a popping sound with his mouth, "- prick of the dart."

"Very compassionate," Nick van Owen commented sarcastically.

"Is there an antidote?" Malcolm asked.

Eddie gave him a confused look. "Like if you shot yourself in the foot?" His face then went grim and serious. "Don't do that," he warned. "You'd be dead before you even realized you had an accident."

"Gee, that sounds… safe," Malcolm remarked. "What's wrong with normal guns?"

"They're loud, for one thing," Nick said.

"They also don't guarantee an instant kill," Thorne added. "If you miss the heart or the brain, the animal can keep kicking for some time. And with how you describe these animals, you don't want that. The darts might have a tougher time penetrating their scales, but when they do, they work."

"If you say so," Malcolm said with a shrug. "Just make sure the safety's on." He then asked, "How many of these things do we have anyway?"

"Five," Eddie replied, "one for each of us."

"Please tell me Sarah has hers," Malcolm said, dreading the answer.

To his dismay, Eddie frowned and shook his head. "Christ," Malcolm sighed.

"Well, she's been in Africa a bunch of times," Eddie said, attempting to remedy the situation. "How different can dinosaurs be from lions and hyenas?"

Malcolm glared at Eddie and quickly retorted, "That kind of thinking is gonna get you killed."

"But she's also a paleontologist, right?" Eddie said. "I mean, who else has a better chance of surviving dinosaurs than a dinosaur expert?"

Malcolm opened his mouth, prepared to make another retort, when a thought strayed across his mind, making him freeze. Something Eddie said triggered a memory, and an idea was suddenly born.

Malcolm slowly looked over at Thorne. "Where's your phone?" Malcolm asked. "Your landline?"

"I don't think a landline is gonna reach Sarah," Eddie remarked.

"I'm not calling Sarah," Malcolm said, looking over at Eddie. "I'm calling someone else. Someone who can help."


The badlands, near Snakewater, Montana

The sun blistered over the rocky badlands of Montana, subjecting every mile in its blazing gaze. But this was not a problem to the paleontological excavation team, digging away at the dust. Each man and woman felt the constant heat, but they ignored it. There were far more important matters, which lay right at their feet. They chipped and scraped at the Montana rock, careful not to disturb the smooth, stone-like substance within it, trying their best to shun the sun high above.

But, of all those who dug, there was one who seemed to weather the heat the most. A man in his late thirties, who stared at the ground with intense concentration. A ragged-looking man who wore, despite the heat, wore a denim jacket and brown dress pants. A man who wore a tan Panama hat.

A man by the name of Doctor Alan Grant.

Alan Grant swiped the sweat off his brow with a dirty hand as he leaned back, giving himself a better look at the rocks before him. Of course, while the untrained eye would only see rocks, Grant and his team were able to make a distinction between the rocks and their quarry. The smooth stones amongst the rough rocks. Or, as Grant put it, fossilized dinosaur bones.

While the Montana badlands were currently a desolate desert wasteland where anything green was most assuredly foreign, Grant knew that things were once quite the opposite. This had once been a tropical paradise, full of a diverse arrangement of prehistoric plants. Sixty-five million years ago, this place had been near the shore of the prehistoric Tethys Ocean and a flourishing environment for all sorts of dinosaurs. Hadrosaurs, dromaeosaurs, even tyrannosaurs. In fact, that was what Grant and his team seemed to be digging up at that very moment.

Grant was digging away at the head of the fallen creature, and he could tell by the structure of the skull and shape of the teeth that they were digging up a Tyrannosaurus Rex, one of the most fearsome of the dinosaurs.

Something Grant knew far too well.

Of course, this was a juvenile. The skull was far too small to be an adult. But that was not something to be disappointed by. Carnivorous dinosaurs were a rare find as it was, let alone a juvenile, and they usually only found bits and pieces of them. Not in this case, though. Grant and his team had the good fortune to stumble across a near-complete skeleton of a juvenile Tyrannosaurus. It was such an occasion, much of the team began calling the specimen "Julia." After all, they hadn't found such a well-preserved skeleton of a juvenile carnivore in four years, and that had been a Velociraptor antirrhopus.

That was also the last time Grant had seen dinosaurs in an… innocent light.

For the past four years, every time Grant saw a dinosaur, whether it be a full skeleton, a single bone, or even a picture in a book, he couldn't help but see them in a way very few people would understand. Even now, by just looking at the partially revealed, juvenile tyrannosaur skull, Grant got flashbacks to four years ago. Flashbacks to a dark, stormy night on a tropical island thousands of miles away. An event that seemed like a dream - or a nightmare - but Grant knew deep down that it was far from one. Grant could still feel the heavy rain soaking his clothes, he could still hear the roaring winds and booming thunder, and he could still see the stained teeth and hungry eyes gleaming in the night.

But, at the same time, Grant also remembered sights that weren't quite as terrifying. He remembered the first living dinosaur he had seen, a Brachiosaurus, the titanic creature extending its long neck to eat tree leaves. He remembered then being in a tree later that night, after that nightmarish attack with the Tyrannosaur, in which a Brachiosaurus had wandered up to the tree and began feeding right next to him. Grant remembered feeding the gentle giant, offering it lush branches, and watching as the animal ate right in front of him. So close that Grant could have reached out and touched it. Then, he also remembered seeing that beautiful scene of a herd of herbivorous dinosaurs drinking from a lake, Brachiosaurus and Parasaurs living together in harmony. Dinosaurs were Grant's livelihood. They were his career. His passion. Studying dinosaurs had been Grant's dream. Seeing real-life dinosaurs had been his dream, one in which Jurassic Park, even with everything that happened, had made come true.

But then Grant would return to the nightmare. To the Tyrannosaur breaking out of the fence and attacking the cars, to narrowly avoiding the Rex as it hunted a flock of Gallimimus, and, of course, to being hunted by the cunning and deadly Velociraptors. Grant, whenever he found himself thinking of the park, found himself flipping back and forth between the dream and the nightmare. Between the beauty and the terror. He would go from feeding a Brachiosaurus to staring into the eyes of a raptor. From seeing the herd of herbivores drinking peacefully at a lake to confronting a Tyrannosaurus in the middle of a storm. Grant's time at Jurassic Park was both a blessing and a curse. He felt incredibly thankful for the experience. A part of him even wished for another opportunity to see them. Yet, at the same time, he wished it had never happened. It was incredibly hard, after everything that had happened, after everything he had seen, to continue with his career. And yet, Grant knew he couldn't live without it.

Grant shook his head and leaned forward, focussing back on the fossilized skull. That was long ago, and it had all ended. The island was closed, the park destroyed, and the animals dead. Dinosaurs were well and truly extinct. All Grant had left were the memories. Only the flashbacks. Only the dream and the nightmare. There was no use dwelling on it now.

But right as Grant returned to his work, someone suddenly called out, "Doctor Grant? Doctor Grant?"

Grant sighed and looked over his shoulder at the call's origin. It came from a young man who seemed to be in his early twenties. Grant knew he was one of the several young college students here seeking a career similar to Grant's own. His name was Billy, and he was one of the most recent members of Grant's team.

"What is it, Billy?" Grant asked.

"You got a call!" Billy replied, gesturing to the stained trailer Grant slept in.

Grant waved dismissively and turned back to his work. "Tell them I'm busy," he replied. They were in the middle of digging up an incredibly rare discovery. Grant didn't have time to answer random calls.

But then Billy said something. Something that made Grant freeze and sent a chill up his spine.

"He says his name is 'Malcolm.'"

Grant's eyes widened, and he slowly turned back around. "Ian Malcolm?" he asked.

Billy nodded in confirmation.

At that, Grant shot up. He quickly began sprinting towards the trailer, leaving his tools in the dust. "Tell him I'll be right there!" Grant hollered. "Oh, and get Ellie!"


Grant burst through the trailer door, which led into a kitchen area. On a table in the middle of the room sat a receiver with its phone lying beside it. Grant rushed over and picked it up, bringing the phone to his ear.

"Doctor Malcolm?" Grant said.

Sure enough, a familiar voice replied. "Doctor Grant," Malcolm greeted. "It's good to hear from you."

"Yeah," Grant said, "it's good to hear you too." The last time Grant had talked to Malcolm was about four years ago when he had been in a hospital in Costa Rica. Officially, Malcolm had been hit by a car, but Grant knew the true cause. Hell, Grant had seen the accident. It just happened to be the same species as the skeleton laying outside.

Suddenly, the door to the trailer burst open once more. A familiar figure entered the room. But this time, it wasn't Billy. It was someone Grant had been friends with for a long time. Not only that, but she was one of the few people who could share in Grant's experiences with dinosaurs. One of the few people who felt the same way when she looked at a collection of dinosaur bones.

It was none other than Doctor Ellen Sattler.

Ellie Sattler was in her early thirties and quite good-looking, with flowing blonde hair and a fit figure. She wore khaki shorts and a grey dress shirt over a blue t-shirt. She also happened to be in a romantic relationship with Grant. For over four years, Grant and Ellie would go out on dates whenever they had time to themselves. Ellie wasn't technically a paleontologist, but rather a paleobotanist. She had plenty of experience in the paleontological field, having gone on many digging expeditions with Grant. Then, of course, Ellie had also accompanied Grant on that fateful trip to Isla Nublar four years ago.

Ellie looked over at Grant and asked, "Is it really him?"

"Indeed it is," Grant said with a nod.

At the same time, Malcolm asked, "Is that Doctor Sattler?"

"Yeah," Grant responded, "she's here."

"Good," Malcolm said. "She needs to hear this too. Put me on speaker."

Grant nodded and set the phone down, pressing the speaker button on the receiver. "You're on speakerphone," he informed.

"Alright," Malcolm said, his voice echoing throughout the trailer. "Are you two alone?"

"Yeah, we are," Grant responded.

"Hey, Ian," Ellie greeted, walking up to the table, standing beside Grant. "How've you been?"

"Not particularly well, unfortunately," Malcolm replied with a grim sigh. "The leg is the least of my problems. Hell, I wish it was the worst of my problems."

Grant and Ellie glanced at each other, both with a worried expression. They both knew that Ian had tried to expose InGen and Jurassic Park a while back, and had paid dearly for it. But that had been a few years ago, and Malcolm had never asked for help then. They also hadn't heard anything about Malcolm making a second attempt at suing InGen. "What's going on, Ian?" Grant asked.

"A lot," Malcolm said. "Buckle up, because I have some bad news." He sighed and then began to tell his tale. "A few days ago, I got a call from our good old friend John Hammond."

"Hammond?" Grant muttered. He hadn't heard much from the old man since the incident. He had given them a barrage of sincere apologies on the trip back to Costa Rica, but after they had parted ways, all Grant had heard of the man was news. Hammond had continued funding their paleontological expeditions until, a few weeks ago, he had been removed from being CEO. One of the first things InGen did after was cut funding to every dig team that Hammond had funded, which included Grant and Ellie's team, attempting to save on money. What Hammond wanted with Malcolm, Grant had no clue, but it seemed Malcolm was about to tell them.

"He asked me to meet him at his mansion," Malcolm continued. "That meeting was earlier today, and what he told me is quite… alarming." Malcolm audibly sighed again. Then, he suddenly blurted, "The dinosaurs aren't dead."

"What!?" Grant and Ellie exclaimed almost instantaneously.

"I know, I know," Malcolm said. "I didn't believe it either, nor do I want to believe it, but that's the truth."

"But I thought the park was destroyed!" Ellie said. "Weren't the dinosaurs killed?"

"The dinosaurs on Nublar were killed," Malcolm corrected. "But, there's a second island. Isla Sorna. According to Hammond, this was where most of the dinosaurs were cloned and raised. That laboratory on Nublar was just a show. Sorna was where the dinosaurs were actually made."

"And they're still making them now?" Grant asked.

"No," Malcolm said. "Like with Nublar, the island was hit by a hurricane about two years ago, and like with Nublar, it forced everyone off the island."

"Let me guess," Grant said, "the dinosaurs survived."

"Indeed they did," Malcolm confirmed. "All of the dinosaurs now roam free on the island, forming their own territories and habitats. No fences standing in their way. A lost world of sorts. A true Jurassic environment. Right up your alley." Malcolm sighed. "It seems what I said all those years ago came true. Life found a way."

"But how?" Ellie asked. "I know the dinosaurs found a way to change their gender so they could breed, but what about Doctor Wu's Lysine Contingency? Shouldn't the dinosaurs have died from that?"

"That's what I asked," Malcolm said. "Hammond didn't seem to know either. But he wants to find out. That's why he called me."

"What do you mean?" Grant asked.

"Hammond," Malcolm said, "is organizing an expedition. A scientific team to go onto the island and study the dinosaurs." He then chuckled. "Kind of ironic, considering who Hammond was four years ago."

"What does this have to do with you?" Grant asked.

"Well, Hammond has his heart set on me going with them. Something about me helping Hammond gain support for making the island a biological preserve. With him no longer being CEO, he can't stop InGen from going to the island and ransacking the place. So he wants to gain public support for restricting access to the island by bringing back some photographs of the dinosaurs."

"And you're actually going?" Grant asked. "Never thought I'd see that in a million years."

"Trust me, I don't have much of a choice," Malcolm said. "That's why I'm calling you." Malcolm sighed again. "I need your help," he admitted.

"What's wrong?" Ellie asked.

"You remember Sarah, right?" Malcolm asked.

"Yeah," Grant said. He was familiar with Doctor Sarah Harding, with her recent forays into the paleontological field. But Grant also knew her as being the daughter of Gerry Harding, who was the veterinarian at Jurassic Park and, most of all, the girlfriend of Ian Malcolm. Grant and Ellie had met Sarah at the hospital in Costa Rica, and though they weren't as close to her as she was to Malcolm, they were still friendly. Grant also understood her enough to guess what Malcolm was going to say next.

"Well, Hammond allowed her to join the team as their paleontologist. I would have stopped her from going but, of course, Sarah decided to leave ahead of schedule. Now she's on that island alone with nothing separating her from the dinosaurs." Malcolm let out an exasperated sigh. "She didn't even bring a damn gun!" Malcolm sighed again, seemingly trying to calm himself down. "That's the reason why I'm going. So I can get her back, preferably in one piece."

Then, Malcolm said, "And I want you to come with us."

At that moment, a flood of memories began to fill Grant's mind. Memories of the terrors he had experienced at Jurassic Park. Images of the fearsome Tyrannosaurus and deadly Velociraptors began filling his mind. The stained teeth. The cunning eyes. The deafening roar. The threatening growl. With a glance over at Ellie, Grant could tell she was thinking the same thing. They had barely survived dinosaurs once before, and they both knew there wasn't a guarantee they would get so lucky again.

Malcolm seemed to guess what they were thinking. "If you don't want to, that's fine. It's just that if anyone could help, I know it would be you too. But I understand if you don't want to."

However, as Malcolm talked, Grant further analyzed the situation. The expedition would be very dangerous, and there was a low chance he would make it back in one piece. But Grant understood what it was like to be stuck on an island full of dinosaurs. He had to not only keep himself alive but two young kids as well. He could imagine how he would feel if it was him, and he didn't even want to think about if it was Ellie on that island.

But that wasn't the only thing tempting Grant. Despite everything he had been through, a part of him pushed him to go on that expedition. While he was still traumatized by the horrors he had experienced, a part of Grant's mind also remembered the incredible awe he had felt while on the island. Even with the trauma still fresh in his mind, Grant could remember his joy when he first saw a living dinosaur. The joy when he had watched a herd of them drink at a pristine lake. The joy when he fed a Brachiosaurus from the top of a tree. Grant remembered how he felt when he had left the island. How, when he had seen a flock of birds flying by the helicopter, he had remembered the dinosaurs not with hate and fear, but with awe and wonder. A part of him even wished that Jurassic Park had succeeded, so he could study dinosaurs thriving in their natural habitat. Even the prospect of studying predators intrigued him. And, by the sounds of it, Isla Sorna was the perfect place to study them. With no fences and little artificial structure, it would truly feel like Grant had been transported back sixty-five million years into the grand age of dinosaurs.

Rescuing Sarah was the top priority, of course. But, Grant admitted, the thought of seeing the dinosaurs again was more appealing than he had thought.

Grant looked over at Ellie. While his passion for dinosaurs might be enough to get him on the expedition, he couldn't say the same for Ellie. She had always been more interested in prehistoric plants than dinosaurs, and her experience on Isla Nublar was about as traumatizing as Grant's, if not more so.

However, when Grant looked over at her, Ellie said, "I'm in." She then glanced at Grant and added, "We can't leave Sarah on that island. Not alone."

"No, we can't," Grant agreed with a nod. He then looked down at the phone and said, "We're in."

"Alright," Malcolm said. "Meet us at Thorne Mobile Field Systems in San Diego. That's where the team is gathered. You also don't need to bring any equipment. We have all we'll need right here."

"Okay," Grant said, "when are we leaving?"

"In about three hours," Malcolm replied. Before Grant could respond, he added, "I know that's pretty short notice, especially from where you are, but I can delay our charter by an hour or so if you need it."

"You will," Grant said. "It's a three-hour flight from Choteau and it's an hour's drive there."

"I should be able to hold off our departure until you arrive," Malcolm assured. "Hell, that extra hour will give us more time to prepare. That should make Thorne happy."

"Who?" Ellie asked.

"One of the team members. You'll meet him when you arrive," Malcolm explained briefly. "Right now, don't worry about packing much. We're just getting Sarah and then getting out. Just get moving as soon as you can. Got it?"

"Got it," Grant confirmed. He didn't like the idea of leaving in the middle of such an important dig. But Malcolm needed his and Ellie's help, as did Sarah, and they weren't just going to abandon their friends, even if it meant missing out on an important discovery. Besides, Grant had missed the excavation of a juvenile Velociraptor skeleton for his trip to Jurassic Park. He can miss out on this excavation to help Malcolm rescue Sarah Harding.

"Good," Malcolm said. "Remember, Thorne Mobile Field Systems. It's at a large warehouse at the end of Industrial Park. Call me if you need help."

"Alright," Grant said. "See you then."

"Goodbye," Malcolm signed off before ending the call with a click.

Grant set the phone down on the receiver before turning to Ellie. He released a heavy sigh and shook his head. "I can't believe this is happening," he said.

"I can't either," Ellie agreed. "This all seems like a dream. A long, terrible dream."

"I know," Grant said sympathetically. He then gave Ellie a serious look. "You can still back out," he said. "If you don't feel up to it, I can go by myself, or I can stay and call the whole thing off."

Before Grant finished his offer, Ellie was shaking her head. "No," she said. "If what Ian says is true, which it most definitely is, then Sarah is on an island full of dinosaurs all by herself. We can't just leave her there, especially with what we know could happen to her."

"Alright then," Grant said with a nod. He then gave Ellie a comforting smile. "You ready to see some dinosaurs?" he asked. "Again?"

She chuckled and a small smile fell across her lips. "Yeah," she said. "I guess I am."


A/N - Here is chapter 3 and, that's right, Dr. Grant and Dr. Sattler are going to be in this story. One thing I felt was weird about The Lost World is that it decided to leave out Grant and Sattler. Sure, you don't technically have to have them in the story, but since they played such an important role in the first movie, with Grant pretty much being the main character, it seemed - to me anyway - that it was weird to leave them out of the sequel. That would be like if Luke and Leia never appeared in Empire Strikes Back and the movie focussed specifically on Han Solo. Of course, the movie was still decent without Grant and Sattler, and its flaws aren't necessarily tied to their absence, but I still think it's a weird decision and a missed opportunity. So, if they can't be in the movie or novel, they can at least be in this story. I just hope I can write and portray these characters well. I also want to add that my portrayal of Dr. Grant won't be like his portrayal in JP 3. He has a bit of PTSD, but it's not enough to completely dissuade the idea of studying InGen's dinosaurs. Of course, that's not the main reason Grant is going on the expedition. That is so he can help Malcolm rescue Sarah Harding. But I didn't want to make him as jaded towards the dinosaurs as he was in JP3. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter of Jurassic Park 2: The Lost World. Have a Happy New Year, and have a great day!