There are times I wonder if I should eventually make and post a list of all the actors/actresses I see in my head when writing my OCs. I know it'd be one hell of a list if I did...


PREPARATIONS

9 – Rising Tensions

Glistening in the morning sun was the all too familiar Gulfstream G450. Derek was the first to scamper up the stairs and go inside, no doubt to claim what he felt was the best seat towards the aircraft's rear. Pet was the last to board and made herself comfortable in a forward most, rear-facing seat next to a window.

She noticed a medium-sized box in the seat across from where Simon sat diagonally to her. Her attention lingered on it for another moment before she reclined her booted feet up to relax. It was going to be a long flight, one she hoped to sleep most of the way through.

Within twenty minutes, the aircraft's hatch was secured, a final pre-flight inspection performed, and the tire chocks pulled. With the crew chief's guidance, the plane was cleared to taxi from its parking spot. It navigated its way to the runway, waited for clearance, and finally raced down the runway for a smooth takeoff.

Pet closed her eyes only to be roused from a hopeful sleep by Simon. In his hands was the box. She looked at it curiously as it was passed to her. She accepted the lightweight parcel and peeled off the tape, securing its top flaps closed. Pale pink packing peanuts greeted her first. Digging a hand into the contents revealed a hard, smooth surface hidden beneath. Pet took hold of what felt like a handle and withdrew it to expose a white and red bullhorn.

A scheming smile upturned her lips and narrowed her blue-green eyes. That same mischievous delight glanced up to meet Simon's content watch.

Paul saw the item and the glint in the hybrid's eyes. "That look concerns me."

Terrence's head came into view as he repositioned himself to glance over the seat he was in behind Simon's. "Oh." He sat back down, giving the bullhorn no second thought.

Pet flicked a packing peanut out of the cone's inside. "I wonder if this thing works." She cued it and shouted, "Hey shit brick!"

Simon's mildly annoyed expression didn't blink off the hybrid. Derek shouted back, "What the fuck, Pet?! Now that we're all deaf!"

The hybrid laughed and rested the bullhorn on the floor in front of her seat. "Yep, it works."


Halfway through the flight, the only sounds heard filling the cabin were the aircraft engines and Pet fervently filing her claws. Now that she was away from the dig site's unknowing eyes, she could finally shape and sharpen them to their max lethality. It was a tedious process that lasted the remainder of the flight.

Pet slid her boots on, not bothering with her socks. She planned to take off her shoes as soon as she got to her hotel room, anyway. The Gulfstream's hatch opened, everyone unloading onto the San Jose, Costa Rica tarmac to see a turquoise and off-white helicopter.

Derek cocked his head to the side. "We're not going to the island already, are we?"

Simon was brightly smiling. "Of course not!"

The hybrid's eyes slowly darted from side to side in their sockets, expecting there to be a fancy car somewhere to chauffeur them to the hotel. "Where's the car?"

"What car?"

"The car…that you usually have parked somewhere…to take people to a hotel."

Simon gave another laugh and shook his head. "Not this time, my dear Ms. Hammond. I arranged to have my private yacht brought to Costa Rica for you and your companions to stay on."

"A yacht? As in, a big ass fancy boat that costs as much as a small country?"

Derek leaned in and said, "That's what a yacht is dummy."

Simon motioned the awestruck group to follow him to the helicopter. "Come, come." They crammed into the aircraft's back seats, this time with Terrence on the other side of Pet. Simon continued. "My head of security, Mr. Hoskins, should be joining us later this evening. He and four of his best men took a helicopter to Isla Sorna to do aerial scouting of the island."

Pet gawked at the billionaire. "And you let them?!"

Paul questioned. "What for? I'm sure Veronica remembers the island plenty well."

Pet nodded. "Don't I, though?"

Simon explained. "The reason I asked the team to fly over the island was to better assist you, Ms. Hammond, in locating your target."

Blue-green eyes turned yellow-green. "If the damn thing was drawn to the landing strip with Amanda Kirby shouting through a bullhorn, then I'm almost certain it'll do the same, again. Hence why I asked for this." She held up the bullhorn in front of her. "And I already have an idea of its territory. During the incident not too long ago, we first encountered it at the landing strip located on the western side of the island. It proceeded to track us to the aviary, which, if I remember correctly, is roughly five kilometers or three miles away."

Muldoon nodded in agreement. "If taking a direct path from the airfield to the aviary, yes. By road, it was closer to five and a half kilometers."

Pet continued to fill in the billionaire on what she knew. "We all know I wasn't with Alan and the Kirby's when they left the aviary, but I was told how the Spino followed them a good way southward down the river. They were almost to the coast when it attacked them there. That means the Spino has claimed much of the area west of the river and to the coastline. I say this because it took out a pleasure boat just off the west coast eight weeks before we got there."

Muldoon's scarred face tensed with deep thought. "You're looking at an estimated twenty square kilometer territory. The airfield was five kilometers inland from the west and the aviary another five from there. Given what I remember, it's another ten kilometers from the aviary to the waterway's mouth."

Paul frowned. "That's an awfully large chunk of land for this thing to roam."

Terrence spoke up. "There's a good probability there's more to its territory than that. This thing is a super predator. You said it killed a Rex, right?" His attention was set squarely on Pet.

She nodded. "A young adult, but yes, it did."

"What else is on that island capable of successfully challenging this thing should it decide to expand its territory?"

The hybrid fell silent, knowing there wasn't. The only way she could see other island titans taking it on and defeating it was if they banded together as a super herd. But that wasn't possible, so the idea was dismissed.

Simon wasn't liking what he was hearing. "Before you get underway hunting this animal, Veronica, I want to sit down with everyone and discuss how this is going to happen. Should things take a bad turn, there will be back up plans in place depending on the scenario."

Pet scoffed a quiet bark. "Just make sure your men don't get in my way."


The flight was very brief, bringing them to a floating palace anchored twenty miles offshore. Terrence was mind blown; Pet flabbergasted. "Is your boat hiding behind that mini cruise ship or…?"

Simon appeared offended and sighed at the hybrid.

Paul answered. "I'm pretty sure that mini cruise ship is Mr. Masrani's yacht."

"Oof. That thing is absolutely nauseating," Pet blurted. "I can only imagine what your house looks like in India, then."

Derek dryly laughed. "He's the eleventh richest man in the world, Pet."

The beautiful watercraft got larger as the helicopter descended to its helipad on the top sun deck. The landing was gentle, and the rotor whirred down. The door was opened by the crew chief, and the passengers carefully unloaded.

"Welcome!" Simon cheered. "If everyone will please follow me, I'll give you a tour of where you'll stay for the next few days. This floating paradise includes a gym, jacuzzi, pool, spa, and a steam room. There are several staterooms and suites to accommodate twelve guests total, which should allow plenty of space for everyone." The thirty minutes it took for the tour had Pet scrambling to remember where everything was. There was no way she was going to recall how to get to her room and gave up trying. "Please, everyone, make yourselves comfortable!"

Pet dropped her backpack in a room and, after aimlessly roaming about below deck for ten minutes, found her way back outside. She didn't care what deck she was on. All she could tell was that she was at the boat's stern and staring out at the vast ocean surrounding it. A semi-circle couch was at the far end of the deck with a patio table and four chairs set up in front of it. Several green lounge chairs were neatly arranged along the sides, each having a small light-yellow pillow on each. Pet leaned against the starboard side railing and breathed in the smells of the saltwater.

"Ms. Hammond?"

Pet yelped in startle and spun around to stare right at Simon. "You scared the shit out of me! Please, don't do that again."

"My apologies." The hybrid steadied her frantic heartbeat and leaned her back into the railing. It surprised Simon to know he snuck up on the woman. With her keen sense of smell and hearing, she should have known he was right behind her. "Is everything all right?"

Glossy blue-green eyes cast outwards to where Costa Rica was but a faint haze on the horizon. She frowned. "I can't stay here, Simon. This…this boat is too much. I can't do it. Being below deck…it feels like I'm trapped in an overpriced animal kennel with nowhere to go."

The man nodded. "I'm sorry you feel that way, but I can relate to some degree. It felt overwhelming at first for me, too. I got used to it after a while."

Pet ran her hands along the smooth surface of the polished wood railing. "If it's possible, I'd like to sleep out here where I don't feel so closed off."

Simon gave another nod. "Of course. Whatever makes you comfortable."

They stood there in silence for what felt like an eternity before Pet spoke again. "How do you do it?"

"Pardon?" Simon saw a distant and almost dreamy stare in the hybrid's eyes.

"This wonderful life. I just thought the suites were fancy, but this?" Pet felt that overwhelmed sensation creep up on her again. "I don't think I could do it. I was literally born and raised in a zoo. For fifteen years, all I knew was the zoo life. Cleaning overflowing zoo trashcans, dirty public restrooms because people couldn't flush a toilet half the time…animal holding pens…Then I traded one zoo for another where the stench of death clung in the air everywhere I went. From that zoo came living…stranded and unwanted on an island where it was survival of the fittest every day."

The hybrid refused to let herself breakdown emotionally. Her grip on the railing tightened, making her knuckles shine in the sun. "It wasn't until moving to the dig site that I felt like I was living a normal life. No having to smear myself down with mud and animal dung to mask my scent from hungry predators…" she chose to ignore the bewildered stare on Simon's face. "Or having to hunt for my next meal. I had a bed to sleep in again. A real roof over my head, an assortment of food to choose from when I got hungry…"

Pet swallowed the knot of emotion, tightening up her throat. Her chest burned, and her stomach was upset with nerves. "Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, here you came. Now, here I am on a yacht, and I honestly don't know what to do. I'm asking myself, how did I get here? What makes me so damned lucky to be here?" A single tear fell down Pet's cheek. She breathed in the fresh air once more and slowly exhaled it. She needed to change the topic of conversation before she further embarrassed herself. "Somewhere on this small motorized island is my backpack. No idea what room I left it in. I should probably try and find it."

"Why don't you try to relax?" Simon suggested with a hand aimed at the collection of lounge chairs. "I'll have someone bring it to you."

Pet stepped over to one of the chairs and turned it around to face the water. She settled down in it and almost took her boots off but stopped. She was someplace strange with a hired crew of sailors who didn't know a thing about her.

Simon saw her hesitance. "It's all right, Ms. Hammond. Your secret is safe. My personal staff knows better than to publicly discuss what occurs here."

The hybrid arched her brows and grinned. "My, my, Mr. Masrani. Dare I ask what you do in your free time?"

He just smirked at her and strode away. Pet glanced around the deck, mentally imagining gorgeous supermodels strutting around the place in bikinis and high heels. "Quite the life, indeed."


Three hours later, Pet was still kicked back in the lounge chair. The helicopter's engine spun up, her shielding her eyes against the overhead sun when watching it become airborne and fly off towards mainland.

It arrived back almost an hour later with who Pet presumed was the head of InGen's scouting team on board. She was in no hurry to greet them and stayed where she was.

Not even a minute later, Simon came into view with a pleased smile on his face. The hybrid observed him, suspecting him up to something. "What has you all happy?"

But, another man answered, his familiar accented voice coming from where Pet couldn't see. "Is this how you ready yourself for a big hunt?" Her head jerked around to see Roland standing at the base of the side stairway, hands planted on his hips. He looked much the same way since she last saw him. His clothing style of an open button-down shirt over a tank top and khaki pants hadn't changed much, either. Slung over one shoulder was his Nitro's rifle case, and over the other was an olive-green duffle bag.

Pet's eyes lit up. "No, this is how I say to hell with it all, let me enjoy a peaceful day for once."

"Bah! You've been doing plenty of that the past several years in Montana!"

The hybrid leaped off the lounge chair and met her godfather in a hug. "I honestly thought you changed your mind and decided to stay at your ranch."

Roland scoffed. "And what? Miss the opportunity to finally prove once and for all to Robert who the better hunter is?"

"Which sure as bloody hell, isn't you!" shouted Muldoon in is emerging onto the patio deck. Pet couldn't say she was the least bit surprised he had a beer in his hand.

Roland grinned at his good friend. "We'll just see about that!"

Pet interjected. "Come on, now, come on. We all know I'm the better hunter! Just admit it!"

"Says who?" questioned Roland.

"Pfft. Says me!"

He planted a finger in her shoulder. "If you succeed in killing that dinosaur of yours with just your bare claws, then I just might take you seriously as a real hunter!"

The three close friends were howling in laughter, taunting the other with playful insults and jabs. At least the hybrid wasn't so on edge as before, which made Simon relax a bit. The jovial three relocated inside the yacht, where the cool air greeted them.


It was past sunset by the time the yacht's helicopter spun to life a second time. Pet and her companions were on the back deck and enjoying themselves. Upbeat, festive like music one would hear at a nightclub played over the yacht's speakers.

Derek nudged a cold, unopened beer along the top of a patio table towards Pet, but she pushed it back to him. "You need to relax."

Pet shook her head. "I need to stay clear-headed for tomorrow. I don't want to impair myself."

"Party pooper."

Terrence watched the aircraft take off and maintain a fifty-something yard distance from the stern. Quickly afterward, the sound of a second helicopter joined the first.

A dark grey Agusta 109A with InGen's logo on the side touched down on the helipad, its side door opening. The first person to deboard was a heavy-set man with a neatly trimmed goatee. His beady brown eyes peered down at the lot of people seated about the patio deck. Joining him were four men looking as though ready to go to war. They were adorned in military-grade tactical vests and helmets with pistols on their hips, sheathed knives on their belts and rifles in their hands. There was no immediate way of knowing what occupied their vests pockets, but it was safe to assume gas grenades, extra ammo magazines, and maybe a grenade for good measure.

Pet watched them descend the side stairwell to the patio deck level. Paul, lounged back on the semi-circle couch, scoffed. "That would be the InGen team." The grey helicopter took off in the direction of the mainland to allow the yacht's to return.

Vic Hoskins studied each person's face. He had reviewed their files to better familiarize himself with who he would be working with. His dark gaze found Pet's blue-green ones, a smirk fattening his already plump cheeks.

"Well, well, well." Hoskins eyeballed the clawed, bare feet and anchored his hands on his hips. "I finally get to meet what's had InGen so riled up in the past."

The hairs on the back of Pet's neck stood on end, much like a dog's heckles. Her upper lip twitched with a threatening growl, and her blue-green eyes morphed into their animalistic golden yellow. One clawed hand rested atop the patio table as the other clutched onto the back of her chair. Sickle toe-claws dug at the wooden floor under her feet, scratching its smooth surface. She slowly rose, Derek taking hold of her wrist to stop her from attacking the arrogant man.

Simon began to regret arranging a face to face meeting between the two. Hoskins liked to push his authority around, which very much came off as challenging. There was no doubt the man's demeanor was taken precisely as that to someone like the hybrid.

Roland stood up and joined his goddaughter, hoping he wouldn't have to break up what could be a nasty fight. Hoskins' men were armed to the teeth in weaponry. Pet was armed with a hell of a short temper, a predator's killer instinct, and sharp claws. He spoke. "Ms. Hammond is not a what. She is a who and will be respected as a person and as a lady."

Hoskins remained focused on the hybrid. "I know all about you, Ms. Hammond." He held out a hand to her for a shake, an empty show of good faith for Mr. Masrani's sake.

Pet pulled her wrist out of Derek's grip and accepted the outstretched hand with a hissed screech. Once a firm hold was taken, she jerked the startled man a step closer towards her. She growled; partially sharpened teeth bared. "I advise you and your men stay the fuck out of my way."

Hoskins chuckled. This girl couldn't be serious. Did she really have the audacity to threaten him? "Better watch your tone, missy, lest one thinks you're making threats."

The hybrid dropped her voice to barely above a whisper. "I don't make threats, Mr. Hoskins. Ask Virgil Reynolds and his team." She snorted, Hoskins jerking on the spot. "Oh, wait, you can't. They're all dead." A malicious delight twinkled in her eyes. Her grip on the head of security loosened, and she backed away one slow step at a time. "You might want to watch your back out there. Anything can happen in the blink of an eye."

Hoskins was laughing to himself, again. "Likewise, sweetheart." He turned around on the heel of his boot and stormed into the yacht's interior through the sliding glass door. As soon as one of Hoskin's men closed the door behind them, their team leader spoke. "Stevens should have killed that freak when he had the chance."

A bearded man to his right questioned. "Why didn't you join the team he hired to hunt her?"

Hoskins proceeded below deck. "Stevens wanted to keep any company employees' hands out of the mess should the mission go to shit. He assumed a team of mercs and poachers could get the job done right. Why the hell Masrani let her live is beyond me. She basically confessed to killing those men."

The bearded man continued in their trek to the rooms they knew had been set aside for them. "Wasn't that the purpose of her creation? To be a weapon? That's what the confiscated notes from BioSyn said."

"Supposed to be, yes." Hoskins unlocked the door and went in first. His men followed behind him like goslings to a parent. "No worries. After what I saw of that thing out there on the island today, she stands no chance surviving against it."


Pet plopped back down in her chair and screeched in annoyance. "That fat fuck better not try anything, or he will not leave that island alive." She scowled at Simon. "I know plenty of places I can bury the body no one would think to look. I've killed people before in the name of self-defense. I have no problem doing it again. I also know how to stage it to look like an accident. Just ask Terrence."

The strawberry blond man was suddenly upright in alarm, cool blue eyes wide. "What?"

Pet scoffed. "Have you forgotten? Ludlow's hunting trip on Isla Nublar? The T-Rex? The flare in that man's vest?" Terrence said nothing, just stared at the hybrid in disapproval.

Derek blinked. "Damn, Pet."

Oh, boy. Things were not going as well as Simon hoped and so early on, at that. If his head of security and the hybrid were already shy of killing each other mere minutes after meeting, then he dreaded what the remainder of their time together would be like.

He gave a passing glance at her companions, all just as tense and uncertain as he was, and exhaled a heavy breath. "I plan on having a word with Mr. Hoskins. I ask everyone to try and get some rest. It'll be an early day tomorrow."


Nine PM became nine-thirty. Without realizing it, it was already a quarter till midnight. Pet stared up at the countless stars sparkling against the black mass of space. The steady breeze rolling off the ocean, paired with the rhythmic thumping of waves against the yacht's side, gave the night that calm before the storm feeling.

The sliding glass door opened and closed, the sounds of booted footsteps approaching her. Roland came into view with a glass of Scotch in one hand and his rifle case in another. He gently rested the case beside an unoccupied lounge chair next to Pet and stretched out in it.

He studied the quiet woman from behind his thin framed glasses and took a sip of his drink. "Would you really kill that security bloke?"

"In a damn second," Pet snarled without hesitation.

Roland looked up at the stars as well, swishing his drink around in its glass. "Are you nervous?"

"No."

Green eyes returned to the hybrid. They remained there, picking apart every exterior detail of the woman's face. "I don't believe you."

Pet weakly smiled and huffed. "Truth be told, I'm fucking terrified."

"Then, why do it? Why go after something in such a manner that could quite possibly kill you?"

The two people locked gazes, Pet shrugging. "I suppose it's like you wanting to hunt that T-Rex buck. Except…there's more to it with me. A lot more. As I told Simon when he asked me the same thing, I have my reasons."

"Uh, huh."

Pet shook her head. "Plus, I don't like bullies, and that thing is a bully. Terrence asked me earlier what else is on the island to threaten it? There's nothing. It's a super predator that's greatly disrupting the balance and food chain on the island."

"So, what makes you think you have what it takes to kill it with your bare claws?"

"The same thing that kept me alive when being hunted by teams of armed men…that also kept me alive for four years when alone on the island…that same thing that drove me to pick fights with leopards, tigers, T-Rexes, Pteranodons and the Spino the first time around. Willpower. That, right there, is a hunter's true weapon. Not a gun, or a knife, or a bow and arrow…but that unequivocal determination to not give up. For you, that drive could be wanting to kill the target for another trophy for your ranch. For me, it's always been about survival, except this time. This is about taking down a bully. Like hell I'm going to let something live that kicked my ass the first time around."

Roland's conversation with his goddaughter made him remember something he once told to a very good friend of his, Ajay. A real hunter doesn't mind if the animal wins. But this wasn't just some animal. His serious expression gradually upturned in a smile. Moments later, he was laughing almost nonstop for several minutes.

The laughter ceased, and he smiled at the younger woman. "That's what this is about? A personal vendetta all because it pushed you down?"

Pet shrugged again. "Well, that and because it ruined what I hoped would be a good week with Alan."

Another sip of Scotch was taken. "What does the good doctor think about this little trip of yours, anyway?"

"He's been trying to dissuade me from it."

"For bloody good reason, too." That serious exterior returned to the big game hunter's face. "I know Robert is scared. All of us are."

Pet looked back up at the night sky. "Is that why you're really here? To talk me out of this, too?"

Roland shook his head. "No. I'm here should that bastard of a man, Hoskins, or anyone from his team, try and hurt you while no one is looking."

"No, I mean…you're coming along on this trip. The corralling isn't until next week."

"Honestly, I don't completely trust that Masrani fellow. He's up to something. I just don't know what yet."

Pet's lips thinned in a frown. "He's a good man, Roland. If he was going to hurt me, he would've already done it." She frowned even more at the rifle case lying between her and Roland's chairs. "Is that why you also have your Nitro with you right now? To protect me from the bad men?"

The rest of the Scotch was finished off in one gulp, Roland setting the glass down on the other side of the lounge chair. "After your Earth First friend sabotaged it on Isla Sorna, I've taken to not leaving it unattended around strangers."

Pet's mood lightened. She leaned her head back, and closed her eyes. "I'm going to try and get some sleep. Good night."