Part One: " Queen's Gambit Declined "
"What burns me," Hammond said, "is that we have made this wonderful park, this fantastic park, and our very first visitors are going through it like accountants, just looking for problems. They aren't experiencing the wonder of it all."
"That's their problem," Arnold said. "We can't make them experience wonder."
--Jurassic Park.
Chapter Two
It was a surprisingly cold night, but then, the sea was always cold for Victor Razmosa, the entire two times he'd actually been on it. When he'd been younger he'd gotten seasick and his father, disgusted, had refused to let him come along for other fishing trips. That had been just fine for Victor; he hated the ocean.
He hated it especially now, dark and unwelcoming as it was. All Razmosa knew was that he and his group of makeshift terrorists were due to land in Puerto Jimenez, where they would meet another group and then get final orders as to what they would be doing for the next week. It would be bloody, it would be destructive, and there would be mourning.
But of course, none of them reached Puerto Jimenez, and as he watched the monstrous grey fin come towards him, all he could think about was strangling his brother to death at the age of fifteen.
Kimball Razmosa was getting back at him.
It was a tentative knock that interrupted her thinking. Stewing over past events. Things she was proud of, things that were painful, and things that had been wiped from the history books with a bloody hand. Celest Razmosa was an elderly woman now, but she had once been a young, vital young woman who had led a million tiny revolutions around the world. She could only sit, now, and wait for a smaller revolution to come about.
"Come in," she called, distant. Around her, the room was nearly dark, but the ornate furniture and decorations—reminiscent of an earlier century—glittered under the dim lighting of the two lit oil lamps.
Her aide entered the room, a tiny Asian woman with a tight face and a penchant for cracking her knuckles during tense moments. Her real name was almost unpronounceable; Celest, the patriarch of the Razmosa family, called her Santos.
"Here is the letter," she said, handing her the legal document with a trembling hand. Celest was more than aware that her aide and her youngest son, Victor, had been carrying on an affair under her nose. "From the Costa Rican government."
Celest waved it aside. "What about the International Genetics Corporation?" she demanded. "Have they sent word?"
"They have," Santos admitted, withdrawing another paper from her pocket as though it was a hot potato. "But it isn't much."
"Let me see."
She turned out to be correct; the letter was a formal, but recycled, apology about the incident of their "genetic creations" attacking a loved one, and that they wished the whole thing could have never happened. It was obviously designed to send one into grief, to forget about the company that had sent it; Celest was furious.
One did not anger Celest Razmosa.
"Give me the phone," she ordered, tight-lipped. "And tell Kenton Dona that he has one more favor to do for me before he goes into retirement."
Santos hovered anxiously after handing her the ornate, black phone. "What are you going to do?" she asked.
"I'm going to make InGen wish it had never even heard of dinosaurs." Celest smiled without humor when she heard a distracted woman answer the call. "Yes, I'm a reporter for the Los Angeles Times? Katie Jackson. Yes, thank you. I would like to know who heads your corporation at the moment. A transition, indeed? Your last has died? Who is the active president? … John Hammond. Thank you."
Phone calls were made, clips were loaded. It was a sleek silver cell phone that contacted the gothic-looking Spaniard Kenton Dona and gave him the exact orders, and by then John Hammond was in bed reading a book by Edgar Allen Poe.
"…and for homework, please read chapters five to six and do exercises A, D and E on those pages. I expect the exercises to be on my desk next tuesday," Kari ended, dusting chalk from her fingers; she smiled at the class, knowing they were keen to be gone and babbling in the corridors. "That is all. Have a good weekend."
Grinning at the sudden explosion of noise in the room, which had previously been silent and full of attentive gazes, she picked up the eraser and began to wipe all of her writing off of the chalkboard, only turning around when a very tentative voice cut through.
"Um, Doctor Wolfe?"
It was Alexander Stoppard again; she knew it before she turned around. The brown-haired, blue-eyed young man was clutching his books like they were his only protection against the world. And perhaps they are,she thought.
"Yes?"
"Um, I was confused by this page, where Venright says that the tyrannosaurus was probably a scavenger and could have crushed its ribcage by falling down?" He smiled hopelessly. "How can you do that by just falling down?"
Kari grinned. "He's theorizin' that the bone structure of the tyrannosaurus' chest was very frail, not built to withstand a lot of pressure. That fits in with the recent, popular theory of it being a scavenger."
Stoppard nodded, smartly, then frowned at her tone. "You disagree?"
"I agree with the scavenger theory, but if fallin' down would effectively kill it… not a very good design, is it?"
He laughed. "No, I don't think so either."
Kari tried not to think about all of the times she'd seen her tyrannosaurs fall down, surviving to get up again and take a swipe at whatever had caused it to fall. "Is that all?"
Stoppard nodded, padding away nervously. "Yes. Thank you, Doctor."
"Not at all," she said, flipping open her cell phone to take in the fact that she'd missed one call, and from a somewhat familiar number. "John. Thought so." More begging, more pleading? Or was it something else? Kari picked up her bag and dialed back, curious.
"—uh hello?"
She had to think fast to identify the other voice. It was his daughter, and realization was slightly disconcerting. "Judy Hammond?"
"Yes, who's calling?"
"This is Kari Wolfe. Yer father was callin' me earlier, I think."
"Oh, Doctor Wolfe! I didn't recognize your voice. Thank goodness, no, that was me calling with my father's phone. I couldn't figure out how to leave a message." Judy Hammond sounded scared and flustered, a combination that didn't bode well for the situation. "He's been asking for you."
Kari sighed, ending up in her upstairs office, where she flung her bag into her chair. "What's happened?"
"It's been all over the news, Doctor, so many camera crews—someone tried to kill him last night. He took two bullets, but somehow he pulled through, even his killer left him for dead," Judy explained quickly. "Did you…?"
"I don't watch the news, Ms. Hammond, I'm sorry to 'ave missed it." She began to pace, as she often did when talking about something of this caliber. "Do you know who tried to?"
There was a great deal of noise in the background; beeping and people's voices, as she was no doubt in the hospital.
"My father does," Judy admitted. "I don't know why or how, I'm not in the know… I think he wants to tell you, Doctor Wolfe. Can you come?"
Kari blinked. Right now? "Er."
"Please, Doctor, I'm worried about my father and he does consider you family."
Feeling more than a little flattered, though she was aware that the Hammond family was not what you called tight-knit, Kari asked, "Where are you?"
"New York. I can send you the specifics if you've got computer access."
Relaying her email address—even knowing she would later regret it, Kari nodded. "Okay. I can be there tomorrow, at the earliest."
"Thank you, Doctor. I know my father will appreciate that."
Shock had not worn off when she disconnected the call.
A few calls and a restless night later yielded the information that not too many were still loyal to InGen's former CEO. On the plane, Kari made use of the pay-and-use phones and made a call to Alan Grant—one of the few people who would understand the current situation. But he was exhausted after a fruitless night of rustling for funding, and took the news with a light hand. It appeared that Ian Malcolm was still making the anti-InGen circuits, and that meant that he wouldn't come to Hammond's bedside, nor try to help with any other type of effort.
Considering that her friendship with Hammond had given her a fractured spirit, a nasty ankle injury, and not a lot of experience she could put on a resume, Kari often wondered why on earth she was on the plane in the first place. Phone call from Judy Hammond or not. But Hammond had been there for her when very few others had been, and that still meant something to her.
Before falling asleep, she made one last phone call to her only friend at the university: her teaching assistant.
"H'llo?"
Todd Hamilton's voice was barely there on the other side; it was nine o'clock back home, she mused, and he went to bed remarkably early.
"Rise and shine, sleepyhead," she chuckled jokingly. "It's Kari."
"Oh, hi, Kari." He paused. "Is something up?"
Kari closed her eyes. "Ye might say that. I need ye to teach class for a day or so, if that's alrigh'. Something has come up, and it's come up in New York of all places."
"New York, wow. Friends in high places," Todd laughed sleepily. "Umm. Sure, I can teach, what were you working on?"
"Last lesson was on very recent theories—the tyrannosaur falling on its chest and killin' itself, for instance. I was using it to explain how ye put a theory together." She bit her lower lip, grinning. "Watch out for that german kid in the back, he's aimin' to be the next Robert Burke."
Todd groaned, "Yeah, I've talked to him a few times, he's certainly got the ego. So continue on with that?"
"Yeah, ask 'em what they'd like to do as well, answer questions, let them out early. They'll like that, it's midterms already for their other classes."
"Oh, that's right," he said. Kari heard the sound of paper rustling around. "Er, when's the midterm test you're giving them?"
Valiantly, she ignored the squabbling baby two seats down. "Relax, it's next week, and I'll be back by then."
"What about your cats, who's feeding the boys?"
Kari had three—one by personal choice, the other two having come along and made themselves a part of the family. Copei, Walkeri and Aegypt usually hated anyone else who attempted to feed them in Kari's absense; they even despized Todd. But there was a girl in the neighborhood who fed all the strays, and Kari had felt that someone of that kind of heart would be all right to trust. She'd fed the cats two trips before, and Kari had again called upon her.
"Susan Linchley, the girl three houses down from mine. She likes the little boys almost as much as I do, I think," Kari chuckled.
Todd laughed, "That sounds like a dangerous kind of affliction."
"Watch it, Hamilton, I can still fly back and kick yer arse."
"Right, well, have a safe flight, Kari."
"Thanks," she sighed. "Go ahead and call me if you have any questions, I'll be leaving my cell phone on."
"How's the new one holding up?"
"Better than the last one that Doctor Grant managed to fry." Kari grinned. "They're still not sure how he destroyed it. Poor Alan, it confused him so badly. But anyhow, watch out for the german kid and try not to stress yerself."
"Your class is safe with me."
"G'bye, Todd."
When she arrived in New York, which was fittingly covered in a grizzly sheen of rain, Kari had her usual flight headache and a growling stomach; she'd not bothered to eat on the plane, considering the choice had been between lasagna and a wilting salad. Finding her usual cheap hotel that she booked for paleontological circuits, the Dawn's Light, which looked as blindingly green and sterile as usual, she made her way almost instantly for the hospital, Manhatten General. She didn't bother to eat.
If he's in a hospital, she thought, he could be at greater risk. I hope they have a lot of security around him.
Kari's worries turned out to be meaningless; when she arrived at the hospital, she had to present a driver's liscense just to get in, and security was swarming the floor that she was told John Hammond was on.
"He's expecting you," the nurse behind the front desk said, before going back to whatever her duties were. Kari barely paid her any mind—she met two familiar faces in the elevator to go up to the third floor of the building, and both were looking rather tense before they recognized her.
"Doctor Wolfe! Mom said you were coming—" Lex Murphy, looking a proper young lady in her navy blue and warm-looking dress, broke off when her brother, Tim, smacked her shoulder.
"Grandpa's been waiting for you," the younger one said. "He says you're here to do something for him, is that right?"
Kari blinked. Do something for him? What, did he think an assassination would change her mind?
"Maybe," she said, smiling. "It's great to see ye both again."
Trouble was, she was afraid it already had changed her mind.
John Hammond didn't look too bad. A bandage here, a bandage there, and a dazed and glassy look to his eyes that came with being heavily medicated. Whatever pain he'd been in was gone, Kari only hoped that they weren't overdoing the strength of whatever painkiller they'd prescribed; Hammond had, in the past, grown immune to several types of medicine because of improper dosage.
"Kari," he breathed, smiling like he was Father Christmas, "Lex, Tim. …Where's your mother?"
"She's making a call, grandpa," Lex informed him, sitting next to his bed with dignity.
Hammond said, "Good," and beckoned Kari closer. She did so, shaking her head.
"John, who did this to ye? Why?"
"Mmm. You remember the Razmosa family?" He smiled grimly at her blink of recognition. "Well, it appears I'm somehow responsible for the death of their youngest son. A spinosaur, it appears, attacked the boat he was on."
Kari shook her head again. "That just means they were too close to the island—it's their fault, like ye've said. But of course there's no way to prove the Razmosa's are in on it, is there?"
"I'm afraid not."
Tim looked from one to the other, frowning. "Who're the Razmosa's?"
"They're Costa Rican gangsters," Kari explained, sighing and also taking a seat like Lex. "One of the oldest families in the government. They have some kind of legal cover—the patriarch of the family is an official of some kind—but they deal mostly with gangs and terrorism and government destabilization. Ye met them once at a party, Tim, although ye were pretty young."
"Kari was there too," Hammond noted; "It was for Jurassic Park, a toast to how prosperous it would make Costa Rica on the world map. I believe the guests I brought was your mother, you two, Kari, and Muldoon."
Kari grinned. "Muldoon wasn't very thrilled to be there, he left somewhat early, but I did manage to have a conversation with Celest Razmosa, the current head of the family. A very interestin' woman, but"—she threw Hammond a look—"very interested in the art of revenge."
"So this woman tried to kill grandpa?" Lex said, bristling. "How can she do that, it's not like he told the dinosaur to attack her son!"
Hammond patted her hand consolingly. "Some things that shouldn't be… are, Lex. Especially with the Razmosa family. Which brings me to what I wanted to ask you, Kari."
She tried to look as though she didn't know what was coming.