JURASSIC PARK III

3 – Second Guessing

Over the course of the fifteen minutes since being seated and in hearing what the Kirbys had to offer, something didn't seem right to Grant. At least, until, Paul Kirby took out a pen and check book in offering to write down whatever numbers were needed to sign him on for the business proposition. It was a very tough decision. He greatly disliked the idea of going back to any of the two islands serving as home to genetically created dinosaurs. But at the same time, the thought of gaining a healthy amount of money to continue the dig site almost counter acted his worries.

Grant forced back the smile tearing away at his lips and looked over to the hybrid at the bar. Since she was so eager to prove herself useful at the dig site, he figured he'd bring her along as well. That and he'd rather have her by his side during the trip should anything hit the fan. He remembered all too well how surprisingly useful she had been at Jurassic Park. Better to be safe than sorry. After all the safety precautions that failed the first park, he didn't put anything out of mind as far as a possibility of it or something similar to happening again. Oh hell. He face palmed himself. Had his experience at Jurassic Park really made him something of an Ian Malcolm and chaos?

"Dr. Grant?" Paul questioned in worry. "Something the matter?"

The senior scientist waved a hand in the air to dismiss any concerns. "No, no, it's fine." His eyes went back to the hybrid. "I do have one question, though." His anxious blue eyes cut back over to the man across the table. "Would you mind if I brought along a third person on the trip?"

Paul looked to Amanda in equal bafflement. Was this going to cost them more? The man aimed his gaze back on the senior paleontologist and forced an awkward smile. "Ah, well this trip wasn't really a tour for your excavation workers."

"I understand that, but this certain individual is a raptor specialist and has been working at my dig site for around four years."

Paul's features took on those of a boy on Christmas. "Absolutely!" he answered without consulting the woman to his right, first. "The more experience the better!"

"Good." Grant smiled in satisfaction when folding the check up and stashing it within his jacket's pocket. This was looking to be a good trip after all. He was more eager to get the trip over and done with so he could utilize the much-needed funds to expand the dig site. "Excuse me for just a moment." He slid out of the booth and politely wove through people to where the hybrid sat at the bar. He tapped on her shoulder. "Veronica...can I please speak with you?"

The woman looked at him through wide eyes. Uh, oh. He was pissed she was there. She just knew she was going to be in trouble and gulped down the bite of food in her mouth. "Oh, hi Alan." She nervously smiled. "Glad you could finally make it."

"We need to talk." Grant took the woman by the arm and escorted her outside.

Terrence nibbled a last bite of chicken off a wing and flatly stated, "That can't be good."

Pet frowned. "You're not mad at me, are you?"

"I'll be mad later." he sighed out. They stepped out onto the back deck patio of the bar and grill, where different colored Christmas lights hung from the metal roof's rafters. "You know that business offer Mr. Kirby was talking about?" The hybrid nodded. "He's wanting to go to Isla Sorna and do a little fly over for his and his wife's anniversary."

Pet thoughtlessly blurted, "What?!" and blinked in disbelief. A few of the restaurant patrons seated at the picnic tables gave the woman a baffled stare. Pet realized his and lowered her voice. "Alan, no! Not happening! You are not going to Isla Sorna. At all!" Grant took the check out of his pocket and flashed it before the woman's face. She snatched it out of his hand and read it. "Twenty-five-" she stopped herself when she caught herself talking loudly again, and returned her voice to a low tone. "Twenty-five thousand dollars?" She folded up the check and stuffed it back in a pocket on the outside of his jacket. "Oohhh fuck me. You said yes, didn't you?" The hopeful sparkle in the man's eyes made the hybrid's gut flop in dread. "I need a drink."

She left her close friend where he stood and rejoined the others at the bar. Catfish was drying off a drink glass and talking to Terrence about some of his hunting stories in Kenya. The men looked to Pet as she sat heavily down on the barstool.

Derek cocked a brow at her. "Something wrong?"

"I need a drink, Cat, and not a soda. Something harder."

Terrence and Derek exchanged concerned looks, Derek questioning. "Did the Doc break things off?"

Pet shook her head and stared at a cinnamon whiskey bottle being tipped up in pouring a shot. "Alan got paid quite a bit to go back."

Terrence shrugged. "Back? Back where?"

Catfish stated, "Don't go telling anyone I'm giving out drinks without proper ID. I'm making an exception, this once, because you're such a loyal customer and I can't you're over twenty-one years old."

Pet accepted took the shot glass nudged her way and took down its contents in one gulp. "Back to the Park."

Derek choked on a drink of his beer. "Holy fuck, no way!" He wiped off his face with his napkin and gawked disbelievingly at the woman. "He is? Are you going to go, too?"

Pet tapped on the side of the empty glass with a dulled clawed finger. Catfish frowned and poured another shot. "I have to. I mean, I can't let him go without me being there. What if something happens?"

"Hopefully it won't," Terrence added.


Finally, back at the dig site. Pet was doing her best to ignore Derek, as she had been doing since the restaurant and throughout the drive home, but it was no use.

He was right behind the hybrid every step from the Jeep to Quarantine's front door. "You mean to tell me I risked my life going down to that island to help rescue your ass for nothing?"

Pet rolled her eyes and went straight to the fridge. "How many times do I need to tell you to drop it?"

"I'm not just going to drop it, Pet!"

Terrence was the last into the trailer and shut the door behind him. That's when the back bunkroom door opened to reveal a groggy looking Muldoon. He looked between the two bickering people. "What are you two going on about, now?"

Terrence answered for the two, seeing how Pet had her lips wrapped around a beer bottle and Derek was still nagging at her. "Mr. Kirby paid Dr. Grant twenty-five thousand dollars to join them on a fly around tour of the islands."

Muldoon's speechless expression fixated on Pet. "Is this a joke?"

Pet took another deep swig of the beer and patted her chest. She could feel a large burp incoming and was preparing for it. She shook her head followed by a loud belch afterwards. Derek popped her upside the back of her head and sarcastically said, "Good one, Veronica."

Pet burped again, though much quieter than the first. "No, Robert, this isn't a joke. This is legit for reals." Blue-green eyes on the verge of an emotional breakdown met worried grey ones. "And I'm going back with Alan. I can't just sit here while he goes to where I feel is the most dangerous part of the world."

Robert forced an accepting nod, knowing there was no sense in fighting her about this. He knew how it felt to have a loved one on those damned islands and wanting nothing more than to be there with them to protect them from the dangers. Except, his loved one was a deadly lethal hybrid who was more than capable of surviving on her own against predatorial animals where hers was a scientist with very little real knowledge of the true threat the dinosaurs possessed. Granted, the man in question had witnessed the destructive force of a Tyrannosaur and a pack of intelligent Velociraptors. But what about his odds against other potential threats looking for a quick meal?

Derek was flabbergasted at his uncle's response. "That's it? You're not going to stop her? You're just going to let her go off, back to the islands where we nearly got killed trying to save her?"

Pet finished off her beer and slammed the empty bottle down on the kitchenette bar top. "This is different, Derek. I'm not going down there to be hunted by InGen. I'm going down there as back up in case something goes wrong." She slid off the stool. "I'm going to get my shit together. No idea what time we're leaving out tomorrow."


The sound of a good song playing through the headphones attached to a portable CD player sitting in Pet's lap was well welcomed. It was at least a break from the rhythmic pounding of her heart echoing in her hung-over head. Her skull felt as though about to split open from a nauseating headache as her stomach occasionally flopped over its self. She felt like absolute hell and now, she was on a plane in route to a place she'd rather never go back to. Pet took hold of the plane's seat handle and reclined it back. A rather muscular man with a head full of neatly groomed, dark hair and a well-trimmed goatee was seated across the aisle to Pet's right. He studied the hung-over woman behind the concealment of his heavily tinted sun glasses.

The man questioned the woman. "Should you feel the urge to be sick, there's bags in the seat pocket in front of you."

"I'm not going to be sick," Pet groaned.

Billy leaned over the seat, chuckling at the woman. "Bet you won't drink any more of those Fireball shots, will you?" The hybrid flipped the hood of her zip up jacket over her head.

"Ugh... " Billy simply continued to snicker at the woman. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to lay here and listen to music until the batteries die."

"We've got quite a way to go before we're there." Billy patted Pet on a booted foot. "At least another six hours of flight time. Then it's to the hotel in Costa Rica to stay the night so we can fly out first thing in the morning to tour the island."

"Figures. In that case, when the batteries die...Wake me when we get there." She balled up in the seat to get comfortable, hoping to feel better sooner than later. Getting up at six AM to fly out by eight was not her idea of fun. This little business adventure had better be worth it all.


A jolt through the aircraft rattled the interior of it, jostling Pet awake. She cracked an eye open to look around. As she sat up, she felt something wet on her lower face. "Ah yuck," came a call of annoyance. The hybrid could not believe she had just drooled on herself in her sleep.

Billy tried his best to restrain his snickers, but it was no use. Especially after hearing the frustrated snort from the hybrid. Fervently, Pet began wiping off her face. The well-groomed man merely watched the scene in both amusement and quiet contemplation.

After finally biting back his restrained laughing, Billy questioned. "What's wrong Nica?"

Another snort. "Shut up..." Pet was wiping off her face when the thought came to her. "Wait, you didn't take a picture did you?"

Grant rolled his gaze to his protégé, a bit curious to know how this was going to play out. The junior scientist answered behind an ear to ear smile. "Maybe."

"Oh you-" Pet sprung forward in her seat to give a smack upside the head to the man, but he already knew it was coming and ducked it. "Once we get off this plane, I'm kicking your ass!"

Paul couldn't help but hear the commotion taking place towards the back of the plane and casually tossed a backwards glance at them. His mental questioning the two reflected loudly on his face, Grant seeing this.

"Something wrong, Mr. Kirby?" The senior scientist questioned.

To be honest, Paul wasn't sure. "No. I'm good." He then redirected his bafflement to Amanda seated across the aisle. She wasn't even paying attention, which was no surprise.

The plane came to a slow as it approached its runway exit. After taxing to its parking spot, the plane came to a stop and its wheels chocked. The engines were shut down and the door hatch opened by one of the two men seated in the cockpit. He was a bit shorter and thinner than the accompanying black man and with a balding head, as well.

If Pet remembered correctly, he had introduced himself as Udesky? Eh, something like that. She was in a borderline drunk and hung-over stage and could care less about anything at that point. "Alright, folks," Udesky called. "Welcome to Costa Rica. Make sure to get any belongings you don't feel comfortable leaving on the plane and watch your step when coming down these stairs."

Amanda seemed reluctant to get out of the plane. She grabbed Paul, now standing in the aisle and about to de-board, by his shirt's sleeve to pull him down to her level. She whispered in his ear, "Do we have to stop for the night? Can't we just...fly out there tonight?"

Paul scooted out of the way so the three scientists could leave. He took a knee before the woman and took her hands in his. "We have to wait till the morning." Amanda opened her mouth to say something, but her words were cut off by the man continuing. "It's late and we won't be able to see anything even if we did fly out there tonight." The woman frowned, knowing what was being said was true. "We're leaving out first thing in the morning so we'll have plenty of time to fly around the island during the daylight." Paul patted the smaller and softer hands in his. "It'll be alright. I promise. Okay?" He forced a convincing smile for her sake and nodded his head. Amanda nodded in understanding and followed the man down the tiny staircase leading from the plane.

Onto the tarmac they stood, both people at a loss of what to even think when watching the female scientist chase the younger man of the group around the back of the plane. Even the black man, introduced as Nash, had to leap backwards to avoid being collided into. The look on his face mirrored that of the Kirbys'. Grant sighed and shook his head to himself. Why did he bring these two along, again?


Within a couple hours, everyone was checked into their rooms at a questionable motel down the street from the airport. The rooms had decorative shutters around the outside windows, or at least were supposed to. One of the rooms three doors down had a shutter completely gone while another was hanging by a nail and swinging in the ocean breeze. Another room had no shutters at all; just an older red paint where they used to be when the building was repainted a tan color. No comment could made about the roof's condition.

Inside the rooms looked a tad bit worse for wear. The carpet was stained with what, one could only guess, and the paint on the walls chipping. Water stains splotched the white and patched up ceiling. Pet dreaded the condition of the bathroom and looked to Grant in uncertainty.

She stated, "I have no problem sleeping on the ground, or in a tree or a dino graveyard but this...Nah ah."

Grant pulled back the bed linens of the single double bed to find the bed sheets at least in a clean condition. "Not every place can be the Four Seasons, Nica."

"I know this, Alan, and I'm not trying to come off the wrong way about another country's way of life but...for someone who supposedly has a lot of money, you'd think the Kirbys would be a little bit more willing on spending the extra dollar for a higher-class establishment. Hell, there were some places in Kenya that looked better than this. And they were from tribal people living off the land!"

The scientist sighed. "Well, at least our hosts were generous enough to prepay for our overnight accommodations."

Pet dropped the backpack she had been carrying onto the dark blue... or was that black? floor and sat down at the foot of the double bed. "Had I known this is where we were to be staying, I would've borrowed some money from Robert for a nice hotel room."

Grant slid off his hat and rested it on the room's small TV located on a dresser and table combination before joining the woman at the foot of the bed. "It's just for a night, honey. If you can survive four years on an island with dinosaurs, I'm sure you can survive a night here." He didn't have to look at the woman to know her blue-green eyes were locked on him.

"Can you a survive a night, here?" Finally, the two people locked gazes in skepticism.


Amanda, laying on the bed and looking upwards with unblinking eyes at the water stain on the ceiling, questioned to Paul. He was laying on the floor and on top of the bed's down comforter double folded. "Remind me, again, why we didn't make reservations at the hotel a couple miles up the road?"

The man frowned, looking at the same ceiling stain. "It would've cost an additional one hundred and thirty dollars."

"Well that's not too bad."

"A person," he continued. "We're limited on money after that check to Dr. Grant."

A drop of water fell from the ceiling and onto Amanda's arm. "How much did you spend on this place?"

Paul sighed. This was going to be a long night.