As always, thanks to my amazing and supportive beta Elise-Collier for all her help.

Chapter 11

Claire and Owen ducked into the first building the moment they got to the door. They couldn't risk standing outside in case the guard moved (or the others who had left returned). Luckily, the door led to an entryway that was empty. In fact, the building was very quiet, with no signs of life.

In front of them, there was a hallway that branched to the left and right as well as some doors directly across from the entryway. Creeping forward (just because there were no signs of life, didn't mean no one was there), they headed for the doors in front of them first, glancing down the hallways cautiously. Claire reached out to open the door, but Owen stopped her, finger to his lips when she went to ask a question. He moved until his ear was pressed up against the door, listening intently. Hearing nothing, he then slowly turned the door handle and pushed the door open. The hinges gave a bit of a squeak, startling them so much that they both jumped, before looking at each other embarrassed.

The room on the other side of the door turned out to be a common area, with some couches, a TV, a counter with a sink and a coffee maker, a couple of small tables and chairs, and a foosball table. The two entered the room and both immediately started looking around. There were some scattered papers and magazines about, and they were hoping maybe something would give them a clue. Claire flipped through a stack of magazines on the counter, discarding them all as useless. Most seemed to be hunting or biology focused, neither topics of interest for her. Moving along, she glanced at the papers taped to the wall by the coffeemaker and sink. As it turned out, workplaces were the same everywhere, whether in the middle of a city or a covert operation. The sign by the coffee maker reminded users to make another pot if they took the last cup and to make sure they didn't leave so little in the carafe that it burned. Further along and closer the sink, there was one that actually featured Mr. DNA – eliciting a chuckle from Claire – reminding people to wash their hands. Finally, the last piece of paper she looked at made her stop and turn to Owen, beckoning him over to her.

"I need the radio," Claire asked, holding out her hand.

"Why?" Owen replied, refusing to relinquish it.

"Seriously, Owen? Give it to me," Claire pulled it from his grasp, quickling sending three clicks through. Almost immediately there were two responding sets of clicks. Claire turned back to the wall, still holding the radio. "Lowery, there's a sign here about the WiFi. It's got a SSID and a password, would that help?"

"Yes!" Lowery's response was immediate and eager.

"It's in the breakroom, so I'm guessing this is for the internet not the intranet," Claire said. "The SSID is siteb and the password is lifefindsaway, all lowercase." Claire paused after reading it, before adding, "At least someone here has a sense of humour."

"The siteb I already knew," Lowery said, "but the password works." There's a pause and everyone on the radios can hear some faint tapping before Lowery continued. "The connections not super high speed, but it's more than useable. This is great. Oh internet, I've missed you."

"This is all great," Owen interrupted, "But it's not helping us figure out what's going on. We're going to continue to look. All we've seen so far is a lounge area in this first building."

"Sounds like the building where they put me in a room for the night," Zia commented. "I think it's just a bunch of small bedrooms, bathrooms and the lounge."

"Yeah, that's probably this building," Owen agreed. "We're going to take a quick look anyway. We'll keep you guys updated."

"Okay," Zia replied, while Lowery gave a distracted, "yep."

"Come on," Owen gestured to Claire to keep moving. "There's nothing in here, and we have no idea when those guys will be back from the dock. More people is just going to make this harder."

The two quickly checked out the rest of the building. It was definitely the building Zia had been put in, and the rooms all looked pretty much identical. There wasn't a whole lot of personal belongings in any of the rooms, outside of clothes and toiletries. A few pictures of possible family, and some pinup posters that made Claire roll her eyes. But nothing that was going to give them an indication of what was going on.

They decided to not waste any more time in that building, and after checking in with Lowery that no one had returned and the guard wasn't looking in their direction, they darted back out the door they had entered and headed to the next building.

The second building was smaller than the previous one and also had a front door with no window. Once again, Owen pulled it open quickly and they ducked inside with their fingers crossed that no one would be there to immediately greet them. They were banking heavily on the fact that the compound as a whole seemed to have a very small number of people working there.

When they had gone through the remaining rooms in the first building, they had attempted to estimate how many people were on the island. Some rooms looked more lived in than others, but that could also just be a case of someone who was better at putting their things away. Right now, they knew for sure of seven men: the four men who left for the dock, the guard, Wheatley and Wu. Based on the rooms, they were estimating that there were probably another three to five around. However, they were betting that the remaining people were mainly scientists, like Wu, and so they were hoping that would mean less people carrying guns.

At the moment, Owen was most worried about running into Wheatley again. After their last encounter, he was sure that Wheatley would definitely be of a mind to shoot first and never ask questions. While Owen was still armed with their tranq rifle, he really didn't want to be shooting anyone.

This time, they stepped into a small entryway with four doors, two on each side, suggesting the building was essentially divided into four quadrants. They could hear noise coming from the room to the immediate left, and so they both gravitated towards their right. The first door was closed, but it had a sign on the front that said Armoury. Owen pushed the door open and the two slipped in before he closed it behind them quietly.

"Why are we in here?" Claire asked, as Owen flipped on the lights, and they both blinked, adjusting to the brightness. "What's this room going to tell us?"

"Tell us?" Owen asked, already moving forward and looking over the gear. "Nothing. We have one rifle. I figured we should take a look at what they've got."

The room was well stocked and organized. There were a couple of gun cabinets, which Owen opened up. One was stocked with rifles; some that were for tranqs like the one he carried. The other cabinet had smaller hand guns. Owen was a little worried that the organization of the cabinets was going to make it easy for others to realize that weapons were missing, but he was just going to hope that no one was tracking all that carefully. He pulled out a couple of guns, handing one over to Claire after making sure the safety was on and keeping one for himself. Ideally, later, he'd give the one Claire was holding to Zia. It wasn't that he didn't trust Claire, its that he really didn't want her to have to shoot a person – she didn't need anything else that would add to the guilt she already carried. Besides, Zia was military trained and was likely a much better shot.

He grabbed a couple of boxes of ammo, stuffing one into a vest pocket and handing the other to Claire who just looked at him blankly.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" She hissed. "You made me leave my backpack."

"Just hold it for a second," Owen rolled his eyes, already moving to the next area of the room. It may have been called the armoury, but there was tactical gear in there too, like helmets, vests and gloves. And bags – duffle bags, gear bags and, ah ha, a few slim backpacks for carrying a small amount of gear. He grabbed one and handed it over to Claire, gesturing for her to put the ammo in there.

Lastly, he saw some basic baseball caps sitting on a shelf. He grabbed one and turned to Claire, who was adjusting the fit of the backpack and not paying attention to him. He reached out and plopped the hat on her head, causing her to startle slightly, before looking up at him.

"A hat?" Claire groaned, reaching up to pull it off. "I hate hats."

"Just trying to make you a little less obvious," Owen replied. "It doesn't look like there are any other women here, besides Zia. Your hair's a dead giveaway." He reached out, grabbing the brim of the hat and pulled it lower, before pausing. "Actually, do you think you can tuck your hair under it?"

Huffing, Claire pulled away from him, removing the hat before flipping her ponytail up and then pulling the cap back on. "Better?" she asked, her lips falling into a bit of a pout.

Owen nodded quickly, before looking away, trying to hide the wistful look that crossed over his face, memories of previous fights over hats flooding his mind. She was a redhead, and she burned almost instantly in the sun, and yet, she hated hats. Owen loved the outdoors, and Claire had been surprisingly willing to join him on hikes or to spend time hanging out by a lake or on a beach. However, they'd had numerous arguments over whether or not she needed to be wearing a hat. He rarely won.

Owen quickly did a final sweep of the area, but didn't see anything else worth picking up, and the two of them moved back towards the door. They turned the light off first, before Owen cracked the door open a smidge, checking that the entryway was still empty. It was, and they moved out, looking at the next door on their side. This one didn't have a name plate, and when they opened it, they discovered it was essentially a kitchen / eating area. On one side, there were a few fridges along the wall, along with a long countertop, a large oven/stove combo and a couple of microwaves. The other side was taken up by a few tables each surrounded by chairs. Except for a pile of dirty dishes in a sink, there was nothing remarkable about the room.

A sound behind caused them both to enter it anyway, closing the door mostly behind them, leaving a small crack they could peek out of. They watched as the man Owen knew as Wheatley left one of the rooms across the hall and then exited the building. After the door closed behind him, they waited a few minutes before they ventured out, not sure if he had been alone in the building. They crept across the entryway and peeked into the room he had just left. It looked a bit like a conference room, with a large table in the middle that was covered in stacks of paper, with a laptop sitting open at one end. The walls were covered with white boards, with a giant map of the island taking up a significant portion of one wall.

They were so taken in by what they were seeing, that they didn't even realize they had entered the room at first. Again, they split up, each pulled by a different area of the room. Owen heading straight to the map, while Claire was drawn to a whiteboard that had a large table drawn on it. The first column filled with dinosaur species. The second and third columns each had prices, although the values left her confused. The first value for the T-Rex was $15 million and the second was $25 million. Those numbers didn't make any sense to her. Her job at Jurassic World had left her very familiar with the individual costs of the dinosaurs. The Indominus Rex had been their most expensive endeavour at $26 million. As the T-Rex was getting old, they had already been costing out what it would take to replace her, and the numbers were coming in much closer to $10 million. There was a fourth column that also had a number, but she didn't know what it meant. The T-Rex column said '1' while the column for the Velociraptor had a '4' that had been crossed out and replaced with a '1.' Other species just had question marks and no values.

"Hey Owen," Claire called out, her back to him. "What do you think this means?"

"Just a sec," Owen replied, still intently looking at the map he had moved to. There were notes around the side and areas on the map had been circled and starred. Some of the notes were about the terrain, such as the one detailing an area that was known to get really boggy and another indicating where the river was too dangerous to cross. Other notes talked about viewpoints, that this starred area gave a great overview of the valley to the east, while this other viewpoint allowed you to see all the way to the northern tip. The map was making him think of tourism, and giving guided hikes across the island. Except, who would be doing that? And on this island, with this group of people? No, he was definitely missing something.

Still thinking about it, he turned around to see what Claire was looking at. She was still standing at another whiteboard staring at numbers. He almost laughed, knowing how much she loved getting into the details and the number of times he'd caught her neck deep in spreadsheets, looking like she was having a blast. It was definitely not an interest that they shared.

"What are you looking at?" Owen asked, moving to stand beside her.

"I'm not sure," Claire said slowly. "I mean, the numbers don't make sense. These prices are way too high. And I don't know why there are two. And the third number? I have no idea what that number is referring."

Owen looked at the numbers carefully, although he didn't have the same context as Claire did as to what the dinosaurs had cost back on Jurassic World. He skimmed over the various rows and columns, a thought hovering on the edge of his subconscious, but he couldn't pull it forward. Looking at the rows, he started again at the top, hoping he could nudge the idea.

This time, as he got near the bottom, the Velociraptor row, part of it came forward. "That last column," Owen said, pointing at the value for the Velociraptor. "I think it's a count."

"Count?"

"There were four Velociraptors on Nublar–" Owen started, before Claire cut him off.

"But now there's only one," Claire paused, before turning to look at Owen. "But how do they know that? I mean, it wasn't made public how many of them died and I don't think anyone actually knew for sure."

"The tracking system?" Owen shrugged. "Not sure, but that makes the most sense. I mean there's only one T-Rex, so that lines up. I don't really know what the values should be for the other species, or how many of them may be alive. But there are question marks next to some of them, which makes me think some of this is still a guess."

"Do you think they're planning on selling the dinosaurs?" Claire said suddenly, her gaze focused back on the prices. "Finding the highest bidder? Putting them up for auction? Except…" she trailed off, still focused on the prices. "Except, why would they need two prices. Starting offer and what they hope to get?" She shrugged at her own answer, not satisfied.

"Wait!" Owen exclaimed, turning back to look at the map behind them for a second, before his gaze darted between the map and the whiteboard. "Ohh, I think I know what they're doing, and it ain't good," he groaned. "I think they're setting up trophy hunting."

"Trophy hunting?" Claire looked at him aghast, before looking back at the rows of numbers. "But why two prices?"

"There's the cost of the hunt," Owen explained, "And then the trophy fee if you're successful. I think it's supposed to be read as the first price is for just the hunt while the second price is what the total would be if they were successful."

"Would people really pay $25 million to kill a T-Rex?" Claire asked, the concept sounding so insane to her own ears. "I mean, I know some people have money to burn, but this seems crazy."

"If you want a trip to the International Space Station it costs about $175 million for private citizens through Space Adventures. That would make this look like pocket change," Owen shrugged. It wasn't money he ever expected to have access to in his lifetime, and even if he did, neither of these options appealed to him.

"I don't understand trophy hunting," Claire mused aloud, still looking at the numbers. "I mean, what's the appeal?" She turned to Owen with an eyebrow raised in question.

"Why are you looking at me?" Owen said. "I've never trophy hunted in my life."

"But you hunt," Claire persisted. "What's the draw?"

"Yeah, I hunt," Owen nodded. "But for food. I don't kill things for the sake of killing them and just so I can hang their head on a wall. There's a difference."

"Maybe," Claire gave a small shrug, not disagreeing with him but not agreeing either.

"You eat meat," Owen reminded her. "You can't be against killing animals for food."

"I know," Claire sighed. "I just try not to think about it too closely. Be careful," she gave him a bit of a grin, "Or next thing you'll know I'll convert to vegetarianism."

"Well, if we weren't already over, that would do it," Owen replied, the words tumbling out without a thought. He wasn't really aware of what he said until Claire's gaze snapped to his, a confused and hurt expression quickly flickering across it, before she straightened, locking away the emotions.

"Well, I guess it's a good thing then," Claire replied tightly. She turned away from him, moving over to the large table and starting to flip through the various papers strewn about. There was probably useful information on them, but she couldn't seem to focus on what she was doing, her hands moving automatically, as she blinked back tears that threatened to fall.

Behind her, Owen rubbed at his eyes, before one hand scrubbed across his cheek in frustration. He hadn't meant to say that. "Claire," he tried to get her attention, moving to take a step towards her, hand reaching out for her. He was interrupted by clicks on the radio.

Claire still had the radio and she grabbed it, sending back the two clicks immediately. There was a brief pause and then Lowery's voice came through sounding frantic. "Um, guys, I don't know where you are, but the bald guy who left the center building is headed back there."

I did some research to write this chapter. Reading up on trophy hunting just makes you realize just how despicable people can be. There are places that hand raise animals for trophy hunting, specifically so that they will be less afraid of the hunters and less likely to hurt the people coming to kill them. There's an article called "The Reality of Trophy Hunting" on the Turpentine Creek Wildlife Refuge website with lots of good (if disturbing) info.

And yes, as of 2017, it costs $175 million for a trip to the ISS! Just a smidge outside my price range. ;)

Hope you're continuing to enjoy the small twists to FK. I've been trying to keep the story close to FK, but while fitting into my AU. Next chapter, the third building. Any predictions?