TGIF! Come on, come all...sit down, relax, and enjoy an adult beverage the weekend is here :)
If I had bothered to read the contract binding me to Masrani Global Corporation before I signed it I would have known that shooting someone came complete with an all-expenses paid trip to a shrink. After learning this tidbit of information I poured over the contract discovering that Claire was indeed correct in her order that I meet with the shrink they had flown in to psychoanalyze me. I lost my shit in her office when she delivered the news, but in my defense you shouldn't bury something that important on page 180, paragraph R, subsection 20.
"Ms. King, the events that occurred were a tragedy. It isn't unusual to experience nightmares, anger, guilt, emotional outbursts or difficulty maintaining relationships with others as a result. It's called Post-traumatic stress disorder or PTSD." She punctuated each letter with a point of her perfectly manicured finger.
This was so typical; my life was just a series of awkward and humiliating moments separated by snacks.
Dr. Morgan Price was a 50 something year-old psychiatrist flown in from California. She was an attractive older woman who wore her slightly graying hair pulled back in a loose bun with her glasses perched on the tip of her nose. She looked more like a librarian than a psychiatrist to me. For the last hour she had been trying to persuade me to "get in touch with my feelings". I wanted to tell her I'd rather take a spork to the eye than touch my feelings.
"I understand all that Dr. Price. It's not the first time I've been in a situation like this," I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. My head hurt so bad it felt like my brain was melting.
"I know, I've read your file." I was really sick of people reading my file. I was going to have Lowery find my file and delete it when I got out of here.
"That's nice."
"Can I be frank Ms. King?" I'd told her to call me Jo, but she refused. Probably some kind of Doctor-Patient protocol they teach you at head shrinking school.
"Sure." Anything to end this torture.
"Your childhood was a series of traumatic, abusive events. You desperately wanted a home, a family, and a sense of belonging. You were denied any these things and, as such, lacked purpose. So, in the interest of self-preservation you learned to hide, become self-sufficient and distanced yourself from others. Effectively never learning to form lasting relationships." I mentally rolled my eyes. "As an adult the events surrounding your childhood played a directly role in the choices you have made. This manifested as a career in the military followed by the F.B.I, and now here at Jurassic World. These professions allow you the semblance of control, stability, and even the family you've never had."
I hated to tell Dr. Price that as a child the only thing I desperately wanted was to be a superhero with global domination capabilities. As for my adult life, I joined the Army because I occasionally got to blow stuff up, and the F.B.I. job came with an awesome badge. Plus, they let me carry a gun. As for my employment at Jurassic World, well, Simon got me on an off day.
"I don' know what you expect me to do with that information Dr. Price."
She handed me a brown, leather book. "I want you to take this. I think it could be helpful for you. I want you to devote a few minutes each day and just write down what you are feeling. It can be about anything or nothing at all. I just want you to set some time aside each day specifically for this."
"You want me to keep a diary?" What was I, 12 years-old?
"It's not a diary. It's a journal." Um, OK, I failed to see the difference, but she's the one with the doctoral degree.
"If I do this, I get to keep working and I can go?" I was watching Dr. Price close for any signs of subterfuge. If she thought she was going to trick me into keeping a diary while not signing off on my paperwork I might have a significant emotional event right here in this room.
"Yes," she smiled, shaking her head.
"Sure thing Doc. I'll see ya later," I rushed out, rising from my seat heading towards the door. She remained silent scribbling notes on her pad. I think she had gone through two pads just in my session. Was that normal?
I left before she could respond, heading towards the cafeteria. I had about 20 minutes before a staff meeting with all Masrani department heads and key personnel to go over the events from the shooting.
I sat at a table by myself nursing a coffee as I tried to write something in my diary so I could get a gold star on my homework. Turns out having to fill a diary with your feelings was harder than it sounded. Staring down at the blank page I was coming up blank. It wasn't that I didn't feel anything with regards to what happened. No, I was feeling so much it was keeping me up at night, and I didn't need anymore monsters under my bed. The simple truth was I was feeling so much it threatened to drown me. There were no words I could conjure to adequately express the guilt that clogged my chest. Opening up the closed off part of my mind was the worst idea in the word. It had taken me years to fortify the walls that kept my demons caged in my mind. What the hell would come flying out if I unlocked that door? I wasn't sure I was willing to find out. Closing the diary I glanced at my watch noticing the time. Grabbing my coffee I made my way to the conference room. I could wax philosophically with my diary later.
The conference room was already filling up even though I was still a few minutes early. I moved towards the end of the long, rectangular table, furthest from Simon's seat. There was a procession to who sat where with the most important people occupying the seats front and center. In level of importance I was equivalent of a smoke detector with a failing battery, you know you have to replace the damn thing, but you avoid it for as long as possible.
Fortunately, sitting towards the end of the table ensured I was out of Simon's direct line of fire. Unfortunately, the only seat available was next to Owen. I debated turning around and just sitting somewhere in the middle, but everyone seemed to pick that exact moment to sit down. Maybe I could just casually lean against the wall.
"This seats available," Owen smiled, sliding out the chair to his left.
I was now positive there wasn't enough coffee or middle fingers for this meeting.
"Great," I replied sitting down, setting my coffee and dairy on the table. "I'm surprised to see you here."
"I am the in charge of the raptor program, am I not?" If by "in charge" he meant he had a deranged lunatic pulling strings behind his back, then yeah, he was in charge.
"I guess so." I angled my chair away from him, turning my back on him as I sipped my coffee.
"What's this? You don't strike me as the note taking type," he asked, grabbing my dairy.
I looked over my shoulder. "It's my diary. My shrink gave it to me. I think she likes me."
"It's a journal," he smirked.
"Diary, journal. Same thing."
"Not exactly." He opened to the first page reading my messy writing.
"Find out if a psychiatrist can prescribe drugs," he read the only sentence in my diary, raising his eyebrows at me. "I'm not sure that's what she had in mind. You're supposed to write down how you feel, what's happening in that brain of yours," he said, pointing at my head.
Jeez, what was with everyone and feelings? This place was more sentimental than a daycare. I grabbed my dairy from him, quickly scribbling down another sentence. Once I was done I handed it back to him.
"I FEEL like judo chopping Owen," he read out loud, emphasizing the word 'feel'. "Better."
I smiled at him as he handed me my diary just as the door swung open. Simon sauntered into the room looking every bit the billionaire he was, taking his seat immediately. A clear sign the meeting should begin. I had been dreading this meeting for a few days. Mentally practicing how I would recount the events from the shooting. Turns out all my practice in front of my bathroom mirror was unnecessary.
After a brief statement by someone towards the front of the table Lowery tapped a few keys on his computer bringing up a recording on the TV in the front of the room. I had worried for days about having to retell the story, and I thought that was going to be bad. Having to watch it was worse. I'd rather shove a wet noddle up a bobcats ass in a telephone booth than relive this in a room full of strangers.
I knew every inch of this place was covered in cameras, but thought they'd been disabled along with everything else that day. I shrunk down in my seat as I saw myself appear on the huge flat screen TV. I was moving down the hallway with my phone pressed to my ear.
"Do we have sound for this?" Someone sitting near Simon asked.
Lowery furiously tapped on his keyboard scrunching his nose. "We do. Give me a second to…" He was cut off as my voice flooded the conference room.
"This is a goat fuck. I'm at the lab. I'm going in, get some shit working and get me some backup Lowery."
I shrunk even further into my seat hoping it would swallow me whole as half the eyes in the room swung towards me. I felt Owen lean forward, his eyes trained on the TV. I firmly planted my eyes on the conference room table in front of me. A parade of hot, naked fireman could come dancing into the room and I wasn't going to budge. Well, that's not true, I'd sneak a quick peak.
Now would be a great time to open my diary. Dear diary, I feel like bolting from this room, or maybe the entire island, never to return. Love, Jo.
Less than 20 minutes later the TV shut off and the lights were back on. A furious volley of conversation bounced around the room concerning new security protocols. I kept quiet, studiously examining my piece of the table. I heard words like metal detectors, redundant operating systems, and employee background checks. It was hard to believe this billion dollar operation needed a shooting to come up with these ideas.
Everyone seemed to be ignoring the elephant in the room. No one was asking why Ryan had shot up the lab killing himself and two people. The focus was solely on ensuring this horrific event didn't repeat itself. Not why it happened in the first place. I glanced at Owen, his steel blue eyes were looking at me hard. He subtly shook his head no. He must have been thinking exactly what I was, but obviously didn't want me bringing it up.
That was stupid. Now I had to say something.
"What about all the genetic, DNA manipulation? What was he talking about? That's the reason this occurred in the first place."
In hindsight Owen may have been right about this one, not that I'd ever tell him. The room fell silent, save a groan from beside me as Owen dropped his chin to his chest. Hoskins was seething from his seat, his eyes daring me to speak another word. Dr. Henry Wu, sitting right besides Hoskins, was eyeing me with the caution you would afford a king cobra. The shrewd calculation in his eyes gave me pause. That man was more than just the head of InGen's lab, I'd bet my life on it.
"Alright everyone, I believe we have come up with some good safety measures. I want each department head to develop their plan of action. I want it to Ms. Dearing and myself within the week," Simon said, standing up and leaving the room, effectively ending the meeting. It did not go unnoticed by me that he had completely ignored my question.
Everyone stood gathering paperwork as they walked out the door. Had I not spoken out loud just then? I got up from my seat intending to intercept Simon.
"Jo," Owen cautioned, grabbing me by the arm. He was looking at something or someone behind me.
I looked down at his hand then back up at his face. "Owen, get your hand off me or I'll break it."
I'm not really sure who would win in a fight between Owen and me. Sure, I had put him on his ass in our training session, but he hadn't been expecting that. Owen outweighed me by at least 70 pounds of rock hard muscle, and had honed his skills in the Navy. I'm pretty sure if we went at it right here I'd need to hit him with a chair to get the upper hand.
He immediately released me and I turned leaving the room, heading straight for Simon's office. I bypassed his scary ass, ancient secretary who was calling out something about needing an appointment. Ain't nobody got time for that.
I threw open Simon's door, marching up to his desk perching my hands on edge. "Simon, please tell me you don't know what Ryan Lewis was talking about."
"Sit down Jo," he commanded, eyeing me critically.
"I'll stand." Simon sighed. He probably regretted hiring me right about now.
"You understand all the dinosaurs here are designed and genetically modified in some way. We have gaps that have to be filled in their DNA or there wouldn't be any dinosaurs at Jurassic World."
"Cut the shit Simon. Ryan didn't shoot up your lab because you made a Stegosaurus."
"We fill the gaps in DNA with a variety of different things. Tree frogs…" I was not going to hit Simon. I was not going to hit Simon.
"This isn't about tree frogs either. That man may have been crazy, but he was worried about something being created in that lab," I told him, finally sitting down. "Something more than just a dinosaur."
"It's quite simple, we haven't created anything in that lab yet except for what you have seen in the park."
It was simple, like quantum physics.
"Yet?" I knew Simon well enough to listen really hard for the details. "Meaning?"
"Jo, this isn't your area of expertise. I don't think…"
"You're right, genetic manipulation is nowhere near my area of expertise. But keeping the people at this park safe is what you hired me to do. I can't do my job if I'm kept in the dark." My whole purpose here was to avoid another Jurassic Park tragedy. That happened with just your run of the mill dinosaurs. Imagine the disaster if those geeks in the lab unleashed something entirely new.
"Jo, I assure you nothing has been decided yet. We are simply investigating the possibility of using different animals DNA in the future." There was that pesky little word "yet" again. Simon wasn't an idiot, and neither was I. There was something going on here, and I intended to get to the bottom of it. Simon was adamant the possibilities were purely theoretical, something the park might need to secure its future.
Something told me the future might not be that far off.
Desert Vulpes Zerda: Cheer up! Just a little angst to start your weekend off right :)
animagirl: Thanks for the constructive criticism. I will give it a shot. Just a heads up though, my mind is in the gutter most of the time so if I don't pull it off don't hate me.
DarkFireAngel00: Just 10 seconds faster is the story of Jo's life, right? Hope you enjoyed!
Deathcutie20: I hope this chapter made you bust a move!
xxyangxx2006: At least if they move on to the 3rd contingency we know Claire will be ready to roll. I don't even know what I'm doing tomorrow...it's frightening.
localsamurai: Thanks for reading and reviewing. Glad you like the relationships/characters. Just because there are two strong female characters doesn't mean they automatically have to cat fight in Jell-o, am I right? Hope you enjoyed!
angelicedg: Yeah, Jo is constantly on the struggle bus. Don't worry, she's as hard as Superman's kneecap.