TWO

Nick rode the subway back into the city-a stark contrast to his chauffeured limo drive to Hammond's place from the airport. He held the knapsack tightly to his belly as the train sped through the tunnels, even though there was no one really who would take it from him.

When Hammond had originally contacted Nick about going on another mission, his first thought was to hang up and turn his back on Hammond and all that he promised. Looking around at his tastefully appointed office crammed with mementos and photographs of notables posing awkwardly beside him, Nick had decided to take the call, if only to tell Hammond that he was a different person now. He was grown up. The days of his wide eyed pursuit of high adventure with Green Peace were well in the past. He heard the old man's voice and straightened in his chair as they settled into uncomfortable (wary?) salutations.

"It's been too long, Nick." Hammond said after a short time, his voice hard edged and all business now. "We should get together soon, you know."

"Yeah, catch up on old times, raise a glass to those we left behind, right John?" Nick knew it was a cheap shot, but he couldn't restrain himself. The words just tumbled out. "Why don't you tell me why you called, get this over with."

"Very well. This is about Jurassic Park."

Nick's chair creaked loudly as he sat up straight. He knew that Hammond would call him for no other reason, but still, uttering the name was like striking him across the face, even after so many years. "What about it."

"You know the companies who have acquired most of InGen have showed much interest in the work we did at Jurassic Park, and they have started proceedings to extract information from our records. So far they have just been exploring their options, but lately I have been concerned that they might revive the Park."

This was not news to Nick. The internet had been abuzz with the news for weeks. He remembered thinking that it would never happen, remembered seeing raptors leaping onto prey, feeling a T-Rex lumbering after him, a struggling baby in his arms. They could not hope to bring that kind of horror to the general public. Nick leaned into the phone now. "I think that would be a very bad idea."

Hammond chuckled. "You're not the only one who thinks that, lad. But so far I haven't been able to garner one single bit of support from the scientific community. Most of them simply won't return my calls. People need to rally around this thing, keep the dinosaurs off the mainland. Preserve the creatures." Hammond's voice had become strident, hard. He'd had a lot of time to think about it. In fact, Nick thought, it sounded like Hammond was reading from a script.

"So what do you need from me, John?"

Hammond's silence stretched into an uncomfortable few seconds while he gathered his thoughts. "I…I..Nick, I need you to go to the site of the park and retrieve something for me."

Nick's response was shocked silence at first, a hollow feeling in his gut that he refused to acknowledge as excitement. "And what would that be?" He didn't say no, not right away. Of course, when Hammond expressed outrage about the new companies wanting to bring the dinosaurs to the mainland, he did not say he wanted to protect not only the animals but his sole right to make money off them. The conglomerates who now held InGen's assets were at a disadvantage because all research material was destroyed after the debacle at the park, and all former employees were bound by strict lifetime confidentiality agreements, all held by Hammond's phalanx of lawyers who would destroy the first hint of dissent under a shiny leather shoe.

Hammond had set out the scenario as if he was making a pitch to his stockholders, and Nick hated to admit that he was intrigued. The tale of Nedry's deception and a rival company's relentless pursuit of InGen's secrets were as engrossing as any he'd heard lately, and in Nick's line of work, he'd seen and heard it all. After Hammond finished speaking, Nick leaned back in his chair and tapped the end of a pencil on his chin, his imagination spinning wildly this way and that; the truth was he wanted desperately to jump back into his activism, boots and all. As Hammond told him the importance of having the embryos back on the mainland, Nick's activist's heart knew exactly what he would do once they were in his possession, he just needed the guts to go through with it.

All his indiscretions could be forgiven with this one act: His former friends from Green Peace would appreciate it. Most had lost contact with him once he accepted the post at the magazine, which came with a hefty pay packet, corporate credit card and a new car. He told himself that he was just taking a break from activism; that taking the job wasn't selling out. Sure, he wore uncomfortable and expensive suits, now had opinion about stocks and shares and had acquired a taste for a decent South Australian chardonnay, but he was also helping to shape the minds of the new batch of activists. That had to mean something.

When he hung up the phone, Hammond's spiel once again hooking him in, he looked down at the cover for the new issue of Teen Beat magazine which had been sent up from the graphics department and was now waiting his approval. He had already scribbled his critiques over the smiling faces of the cast of Friends, and suggested they change one story title to "How to tell is he's cheating on you: Take our quiz!"

Shaking his head, he stood up and grabbed his coat. He needed to get out of the office, get his head together.

From its opening night, Ahead Bar was a popular watering hole for politicians, journalists and the social elite. Its sleek chrome and neon look gave the space a sort of industrial feel, making a lie of its inviting sandstone façade. The bar's popularity had reached such heights that it was not unusual to see a line of well dressed young men and women waiting outside the doors in all weather; its management could well afford to be selective on who was allowed entrance.

Almost a year after it opened, Ahead's owner and proprietor Timothy Hammond announced that a new venue would open. His Ahead Corporation had acquired some derelict whare houses that would eventually become one of the largest and most expensive nightclubs ever. The press was abuzz at the news that the failed tycoon John Hammond's grandson was now making a name for himself in the business world. Column inches were devoted to drawing tenuous comparisons between the two men, but other than the surname (taken from his mother when his parents divorced) Tim Hammond was a completely different business man than his grandfather.

Tim's rise was well documented; his university career was peppered with media stories about the collapse of his grandfather's company. Many of his fellow students would look sideways at him, wondering at his audaciousness. How dare he show his face at his grandfather's alma mater! How dare he try to walk in John Hammond's shadow! It was almost commonly assumed that the grandson would repeat the mistakes of both his uncle and grandfather, and therefore he was a walking disaster waiting to happen. Many of his lecturers were aggressive and called upon him consistently during his time at Harvard; when he was allocated a study group, he had to endure the quips of his cynical and pampered mates.

When he moved out into the big wide world, and joined a small promotions company as a junior, all eyes were on his progress. The management were waiting for him to slip up, just once, so their fears could be affirmed; his heritage was tainted.

Within a few years he rose through the ranks of the company, reaching the board of directors by the age of 26, and through a startling power play that stunned the board as well as stockholders, he ousted the incumbent CEO of Ahead Communications, becoming one of the youngest CEOs in the world at the age of 29. His business acumen and precise, methodical nature, as well as his willingness to assume calculated risks, had assured the company's success. Ahead Communications began to branch out from event management early in his first year as CEO, and by the years end, Ahead were much sought after for advertising as well as corporate events, and eventually as a venue, a destination. The same media types who watched him and commented mercilessly on his lineage were now singing his praises.

Tim knew that he owed his good business sense to his grandfather, and he knew that his grandfather's mistakes would forever act as a crystal ball for him. If he gave into excess, if he aimed too high, all would be lost. He was willing to gamble a lot to realise his dreams, but he was simply not willing to embrace the same thinking that led to John Hammond's slow and painful fall from grace.

But the spectre of Jurassic Park stayed with him for many years after his ordeal there. His dreams were full of huge monsters with teeth that were meant to destroy, to crush. He remembered the sound of Raptors as they spoke to each other, trying to search him out. He remembered the wonder of it all even as he was experiencing that all consuming terror. I'm being chased by a dinosaur!

He chose not to speak about Jurassic Park, and responded rudely to any journalist who asked for the story. It was simply something in his past that he would need time to overcome, but he could never forget.

When Tim heard of his grandfather's renewed interest in "saving" the dinosaurs, he tracked Nick down, and even though they hadn't met, the two men had quickly developed a trust that was both intuitive; they both new what the future held if dinosaurs roamed the earth with humans again because they had both seen a sneak preview of that reality. As they spoke on the phone the plan to stop John Hammond became solid, seemed like it could work. Now Nick had the embryos, they were ready to begin the next phase of their operation.

Tim stared at himself in a full-length mirror. He wore a dark blue double breasted suit with a light blue shirt and grey tie-his fashion sense was much commented on in the gossip rags-and smiled. His mousy brown hair had been cut and styled in a ragged mop of spikes and dyed a few shades lighter. He needed to look like he belonged in charge, because after what he was going to say to the board of directors, he might not be in charge for much longer.

He felt the cue cards in his breast pocket and sighed at his reflection. He needed to pull this off. He needed them to see things the way he saw it.

The door behind him swung open and nick burst into his office, placing the backpack on Tim's desk before struggling to do up his tie. Tim shook his head and smiled. It looked like Nick had gotten changed into his business attire in the back of a cab.

"Sorry I'm late, but traffic was a bitch…" Nick mumbled, still fighting against his unwilling tie.

Tim crossed the floor and placed a hand on Nick's shoulder. Nick was shaking, he realised. Nick stopped trying to win the battle with his tie and Tim began to straighten Nick's collar and started to work the knot. "The board arrived not long ago. They're having lunch right now and then we make the presentation." The knot finished, Tim stood back and nodded.

Nick scowled down at the tie as if it had betrayed him, and shrugged. "I don't know why I even have to be here!" He said. "You're the one who they'll want to do the talking."

"Safety in numbers, Nick." Tim said as he picked up the backpack. He looked up at Nick and shook his head. "A dishonest man would have sold these off to the highest bidder. I'm glad you bought them here to me."

Nick looked at his feet. "The way I see it, I have a lot to atone for."