PREPARATIONS

3 – A Face from the Past

After fifteen minutes of waiting, Paul was becoming anxious and fidgety. A part of him couldn't help but worry his escort wouldn't show up on time. The last thing he wanted was to chance being late for such an important job interview. He glanced around the spacious lobby once more, hoping to see his escort coming towards him. Nothing. He did, however, see a sign not far from the hallway showing the building's many office rooms' numbers and their occupants.

The man was certain the person he was to be meeting would be listed and got up to check. Should the escort not show up on time, or at all, he at least wanted to know where to go for the interview. To his unknowing, elevator doors on the other side of the lobby opened.

Pet politely sidestepped her way out as two businesspeople went inside. She went straight to the front desk to check-in with Buna for the next appointed interviewer.

Buna glanced up from her scrolling through a list of names on her computer screen. "The one-o-clock never checked in."

Pet groaned and rolled her eyes. "Okay, well, they did call and say they might need to reschedule." She drummed her filed down claws on the desk's marble countertop. "If by chance he arrives in the next few minutes, tell him I can meet with him this afternoon at four."

Buna nodded and entered the information into her computer. "Yes, ma'am. Note made." She looked back up at the hybrid and smiled. "The one-thirty is here, though. I told him to have a seat."

"At least someone is here. Hopefully, the boss man will be back soon. He's been off meeting with someone about something."

The receptionist huffed a laugh. "The life of a company owner."

"No envy here." Pet scoffed and buried a hand in a front pocket where she kept a handful of loose change. "I'm going to get a snack before this next interview. I've got the munchies."

Buna gave a smile to the hybrid. "Good luck with the next interviewer."

Pet strode off and towards the vending machines, paying no mind to the man standing nearby. She stood in front of the snack machine and stared intently at the available selection.

The longer Paul stood there reading the names and office numbers on the sign, the more aware he became of the woman's presence nearby. He gave her a very brief visual examination to notice she didn't appear like the other businesswomen in her khaki pants and black hoodie. She did, however, have an InGen employee badge clipped to a belt loop on her pants. It was from this he figured her to be a custodian. Another good head to toe examination of her had his brow furrowing. She looked familiar to him, though he couldn't recall from where.

Pet could see from the corner of her eye she was being stared at and turned her head just enough to observe her gawker. Blue-green eyes squared down on curious blue ones. "Can I help you with something?"

Suddenly Paul became aware he had been caught staring and awkwardly laughed. "My apologies, miss, but do you work here?"

The hybrid answered with a slow nod of her head. "In a way, yes."

Paul wasn't sure what was meant by the comment. Either someone did or didn't work somewhere. There really wasn't an 'in a way'. Regardless, in a way was better than a no and could maybe provide some assistance.

He pointed at the wall's office occupancy sign. "Would you mind telling me how to get to a particular office? I have a very important job interview coming up in a few minutes, and I'd rather not be late."

Pet eyed the casually dressed man. The one-thirty appointment was for an ACU position. The man she was looking at appeared more like a TV repairman than the trooper type. "I take it you're looking for Simon Masrani?"

"Yes, ma'am," Paul answered.

"Are you the one thirty for ACU?"

"Are you the escort?"

Pet gave a single nod. "I am."

The man felt relieved by this. He outstretched a hand in greeting for his escort to take. "Paul McCroy."

Pet accepted it with a side cock of her head. "Veronica."

Even her name was just as familiar as her face. Paul was thinking of everything, and everywhere he could, that brought him face to face with people from all over. Perhaps he saw her at the London Zoo? There were times InGen sent one or a few of their scientists to extract blood samples from the occasional endangered animal on loan to the compound.

Pet withdrew the spare change from her hoodie's front pocket and counted it out to herself. "You're here early."

"I'd rather be early than on time. As my father used to say, if you're on time, you're late."

Pet huffed a laugh. "Sounds like something my legal guardian used to say." She inserted the money into the machine and selected a bag of cheese crackers. The slot the snack was situated in whirred forward. The corner of the bag caught on a neighboring chip's bag, drawing ire from Pet. "Don't you fucking do it," she snarled. Much to her delight, the crackers broke loose and fell to the bottom. "That's what I thought." After retrieving the desired snack out of the machine, she popped it open and smiled at the man. "If you'll follow me, sir."

Paul did, questioning along the way. "You wouldn't happen to be an animal specialist for this company, would you?"

The randomness of the question baffled Pet, but she answered, nonetheless. "I suppose I am." Which wasn't a lie. She was one of the few people associated with InGen to have a plethora of knowledge on their more exotic species.

Paul had a feeling he was right. Or maybe he wasn't? Something still felt off about the woman being so familiar.

To the elevator, up to the fourth floor and down the hallway to a rather nice office, they went. During the entire walk, Paul couldn't help but notice his escort walking in slight discomfort. Not to mention how she kept grabbing and massaging her lower back as though in pain. She motioned him to enter the office.

Pet spoke. "This way, please, Mr. McCroy." Once the man entered the office, the door was closed behind them. The bag of crackers was sat down on the office's desk, and a hand extended to one of the padded chairs in front of the desk. "I will be conducting your interview today, so if you'll please have a seat, we can get started."

The tall Britain chose to remain standing for a moment and looked around curiously. "I thought I was to meet Mr. Masrani…"

An unenthused smile thinned Pet's lips. "Mr. Masrani is currently out. He has directed me to assist with the interviews in his absence. I deeply apologize for any inconvenience this has caused you."

Paul did his best to hide his slight frustration. Hopefully, this supposed animal specialist was well knowledgeable on what to interview for regarding the job position. According to his good friend, Robert, an ACU trooper was probably going to be one of the most important jobs on the entire island.

"Must be hectic for you today, then," he stated as sincerely as possible.

Pet clenched her jaw and bit back her unfiltered thoughts in exchange for less abrasive ones. "I've become accustomed to this company's sometimes unfavorable and inconveniencing ways." She turned and, when she did, hissed at a sharp catch in her lower back. She hunched over the desk and groaned under her breath.

Paul could tell whatever pain she was in it was causing her significant discomfort. "Are you all right?" he questioned.

Pet nodded. "My apologies. Yes, I'll be fine. I'm just recovering from a vehicle accident about two weeks back, is all. A good friend of mine was driving when he lost control and rolled us into a ditch. Got the hell tweaked out of my back because of."

Paul's brow dropped. "Are you sure you should be up and about, then? I'd be concerned about further injury."

The hybrid shrugged, still leaning against the edge of the desk. "I've been cleared by several doctors for light movement and low-stress travel. It'll just take some time to fully recover. In the meantime, it's strong prescription pain killers and routine physical therapy."

"Uh huh." He sounded as disbelieving as he appeared when watching the woman. "If you'd like, I think I can help you ease some of your pains." Paul popped his knuckles and flexed his hands. "I've been told I'm rather good at giving massages." Pet scowled at the man threateningly. For a very brief second, he almost thought he knew where he had seen the woman from before. As quickly as the thought came, it went. The man held up his hands and gave a slight laugh. "I swear I'm not coming onto you." Threatening glare turned skeptical beneath an arched brow. "You're not my type." Skeptical then became offended. "I'm gay," was flatly explained.

Pet blinked, and her jaw fell open. "Oh. I'm sorry, I -" she blushed sheepishly.

"Nothing to apologize for." Paul waved towards her. "May I?"

The hybrid was still fluster faced with embarrassment and refrained from meeting the man's eyes. "Yeah, yeah, it's fine. Any relief at this point is more than welcomed."

The pressure of the heels of his hands met her lower back through the layers of her clothing. Slow circular massages were made, Pet clenching her jaw and squeezing her eyes shut. Her fists were balled up tightly, knuckles shining white on the desk's top. She could feel her dulled down claws dig into the palms of her hands. Each moment spent enduring the 'massage' was both painful and oddly relieving at the same time. It was like the man knew exactly where to work out the kinks.

The longer Paul went, the more baffled he became at her unusual sounds that seemed to be a mix of hushed hissed screeches anytime he struck a sore spot to even soft purr like heavy breathing.

Then the office door opened without a warning knock to reveal Simon. He didn't immediately notice the questionable situation the hybrid was in until he glanced up from a printed report in his hand.

As soon as he saw the scene, he stopped dead in his tracks. The last thing he expected to find upon walking into his office was the hybrid leaned over his desk with a strange man behind her massaging her back. The look on his face spoke his thoughts loud and clear.

Paul nervously cleared his throat. "It's not what it looks like, sir, I assure you."

Pet arched her back, wincing at the persistent catch sending pain streaking through her. "It's definitely what it looks like."

Simon slowly closed the door behind him and walked over to his desk, eyes locked on the other man. "Are you coming or going?"

"Coming," Pet groaned. "He's the one-thirty." One of her hands was at her lower back and the other regretfully scratching up the top of his desk. "We were about to get started on the interview, actually. Mr. McCroy, meet Mr. Masrani."

Paul gave a timid smile and nod of his head. "Good afternoon, sir."

Pet adjusted how she was standing and yelped out when her back popped once. "I regret doing that now."

Paul saw the woman still in obvious pain. "Would you like me to continue?"

Simon hastily interrupted. "No, that will be all."

Pet scoffed. "Yes, keep going." She saw the extreme disapproving glint in her friend's dark eyes. "I say if he can unfuck what Derek did to me, then by all means…continue." Simon's expression hardened.

Derek. Derek. Where had he heard that name, too? Paul was so confused. Why was he having a hard time remembering? That's when he noticed a single blue-green eye peering at him from over her shoulder.

Paul did his best to ignore the scowling billionaire and smiled. "For what it's worth, I think I know what you need to get you back up and going. I was in a predicament like yours once. Five years ago, I fell fifteen feet. Stupid reason, really. I lost my footing when climbing a twenty-foot extension ladder. Broke my left wrist, dislocated my left shoulder, and did quite the number on my back.

"I took those strong pain meds, went to top-rated doctors that landed my bank account in a pretty deep hole, and none of it worked." Paul hesitated in his story to place one hand on the woman's hip and another on top of her shoulder. "Then one day, a co-worker of mine thought he'd try and help by popping my back. I was willing to put money on it being the worst idea ever. I just knew I was going to end up a paraplegic but figured, why not? So, I agreed."

Pet gulped. Whatever it was this man was about to do, she knew it was most likely going to send her to the hospital for emergency surgery. She whimpered.

Paul continued. "I will warn you; this is going to hurt like hell. But you should feel immensely better within an hour or two."

"And if you're wrong?" Pet jeered.

"Then, you can sue me for everything you can squeeze out of me."

Pet frowned. "A bit extreme…but…okay."

No matter where in the room Paul looked, he could still feel the weight of that dark-eyed stare set squarely on him. "On the count of three. One…" Pet whimpered louder. "Two…" Paul firmed his grip on the woman. "Three!" In one simultaneous motion, he twisted her back. A series of numerous pops mixed with a shockingly loud one was heard. Pet cried out, and her knees almost collapsed beneath her if it wasn't for Paul keeping her upright.

Dulled claws raked across the top of the desk, scarring the polished finish. Pet's whole body screamed in protest to her stupid ass decision on going through with the back popping. She rolled her shoulders and gradually straightened her posture. A final much quieter pop sounded in response to her movements. The more she stood upright, she found the man was right; she felt immensely better. There was no sharp stabbing catch, only mild soreness.

Blue-green eyes shifted between Simon's and the interviewer. "Oh, wow. You were right!" Pet lightly flexed this way and that. "There's still some lingering stiffness and sore muscles, but nothing like before!"

"There you go!" Paul beamed and finally sat down in one of the chairs in front of the desk.

Pet slowly sat down herself in her own chair. It was hard to get comfortable with Simon's stern, unblinking stare staying on her. She awkwardly cleared her throat. "Now, about that interview." It took her some readjusting to finally alleviate the remaining soreness in her back. Thankfully the padded cushioning of the chair hit all the right spots. "You're coming from the London Zoo, correct?"

Paul nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Simon logged into his computer while keeping a skeptical eye on the Britain. "Tell us about your experience working there."

Paul watched the woman retrieve a pen and clipboard off the fancy office desk. "What would you like to know?"

Pet flipped through a couple of pages and tucked them behind the clipboard. "You mentioned in your application you worked as a lead animal handler for-" she flipped to the previous page and skimmed over it, "fifteen years." The page was returned under the clipboard, and her eyes met eager blue ones. "What species did you work with the most?"

Paul shrugged. "All over the place, really, but found myself assisting with the much larger animals more often than not. Rhinos, hippos..."

The pen in Pet's hand moved with taking notes. For the next fifteen minutes, every question of Simon's he answered she wrote down almost word for word. She was so caught up in jotting down notes and thinking of her own questions that she didn't notice Paul staring at her again.

It was right there. Paul was so close to figuring it out. Then her head perked up, and she questioned. "May I ask how you heard of this job position?"

"A very good friend of mine and prior InGen employee, Robert Muldoon."

Simon's attention ripped off his computer to gawk at the other man in appall.

Pet instantly froze. Her eyes widened, and her pen dropped onto the clipboard. "Wait, you know Robert?"

Paul slimmed his eyes down on the inquiring face. "We worked closely together for four years. He became a sort of mentor to me over that time and is still a very good friend. He advised me to apply the moment the application submission process opened right after New Year's."

"You're hired!" spilled out of Pet's mouth before she knew what she was saying.

Simon blinked at the hybrid questionably. "Excuse me?"

Even Paul was blown away. "Repeat that?"

Pet explained. "I know Robert. He wouldn't refer anyone to apply for this type of job position if he didn't think they had what it took."

Paul cocked his head to the side in even deeper thought. Apparently, she knew Robert extremely well. She also mentioned the name Derek, a name that was also familiar. Derek…Derek… That's it! He was Robert's nephew! Robert always talked about him their days working together. A face was finally put to a name some years ago at Isla Sorna. That's when another face was put a name Robert talked a lot about, Pet, who was later named Veronica. His escort introduced herself as Veronica…She knew Robert…

Realization swept Paul away, leaving him awestruck and numb all over. "Oh my God, you're her…" he stated breathlessly. "You're Robert's girl, Pet."

Both Simon and Pet went motionless, her questioning. "How do you know that name?"

"Isla Sorna…nineteen ninety-seven. I was there, although you probably don't remember me."

Pet first thought of InGen's animal collection trip that reunited her with Dr. Ian Malcolm and her godfather, Roland Tembo. But there was another occurrence in nineteen-ninety-seven involving Isla Sorna. It's what brought her and Muldoon back together. That night, how she still remembered the smell of fear and blood in the air as the sounds of two adult Tyrannosaurs tore apart a poacher's camp.

The hybrid huffed a laugh. "I do remember you now. You were a part of Robert's entourage trying to find me. You were injured…shot in the shoulder unless I'm mistaking you for someone else."

Paul pulled aside the collars of his shirts to show off the gunshot scar at his left shoulder, just below his collar bone. "Shattered a portion of my shoulder blade when I got shot by one of those bastards from behind, too."

A gentle smile brightened the hybrid's eyes. "What you said that night has stuck with me to this day… 'It's for this moment that it was all worth it'."

The two shared a heartwarming smile, Simon mixed in response. He'd only heard countless tales of the Isla Sorna trip. To know this was one of the men responsible for helping save the hybrid from Mr. Steven's hunting party, and recovering her from the island meant something to the billionaire. It didn't mean he was any more accepting of the other.


After the interview, Pet escorted Paul back to the lobby. Along the way came his questioning. "Do you have anything planned this evening?"

The hybrid slowed in pace, curious at the question. "I'm not really sure at this moment. Mr. Masrani has a habit of surprising me last minute with dinner or whatever else."

"Hmm." The two stepped into the elevator and descended to the first floor. "Should you be available at any one point during the day, feel free to stop by the zoo. I tend to work late since there's not really much else to do with my free time."

"I'll keep that in mind." Pet smiled at the man while trying to imagine him as a trooper. He still didn't look the part. "My last appointments for the day end at four, give or take a few minutes. That is if they don't cancel. Should nothing else be planned for me after that, I'll swing by…see if you're willing to get some drinks later or something."

Paul allowed the woman to leave the elevator first and followed behind. "I'd actually really like that… get to know you more. Not sure what else there is to learn. Robert talked a lot about you most times after a few drinks."

Pet wrinkled her nose and snickered. "Hope it wasn't anything bad."

"Oh, no, of course not!" Paul chuckled. "Is it true you wrestled a leopard when you were a kid?"

"He told that story, did he?" The hybrid shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Oh, boy. And yes, it is true."

She closed in on the receptionist's desk, Buna smiling politely at the two. "The two-o-clock is here, Ms. Veronica."

Paul knew business needed to be conducted and that he needed to leave. "Have a good rest of your day, ma'am, and I look forward to meeting up for those drinks soon!"

Pet waved him, smiling widely. "Likewise!"

Once he was out of earshot, Buna teased. "Uh huh, picking up guys during interviews, are you? Tisk, tisk!" Her eyes aimed at the ring on the other woman's left hand.

Blue-green eyes playfully scolded the receptionist. "I'm engaged, and he's gay."

Buna watched the dirty blond-haired man exit the building through one of its front glass doors. "It's the good-looking ones that usually are."

Pet blinked several times in thought on the statement. No, no, not really. "Where's the two-o-clock?"