Billy Yoder slowly opened his eyes. He saw Oscar leaning against a tree, smoking a cigarette. Yoder's head felt like someone punched him in the back of the head.
"Next time I get a headache like this, there better be tequila involved." He said.
"No way, amigo." Oscar said. "This turned out better than the last time you drank tequila."
Yoder looked around. He was in a clearing surrounded by the jungle. Off in the distance, the Fokker was a smoldering wreck.
"You might be right." Yoder said as he looked at Nima laying on the ground next to him. "The girl I woke up next to is prettier, anyway."
Oscar chuckled.
"So we lost our plane, and the only person we managed to rescue so far doesn't even work for InGen." Yoder said. "Now what?"
"See if you can find anything useful in the wreck..." Oscar said. "...and make sure the girl's okay while I scout the perimeter."
"Dammit!" Yoder swore. "I left my Thompson inside the plane! It's probably toast. Glad I didn't leave a round chambered; coulda killed someone."
"That makes two of us, amigo." Oscar said. "Still, the cook-off was a helluva show."
Oscar walked off toward the jungle. Yoder, meanwhile walked to the plane.