Okay, so I'm steering a little off the fandom wiki timeline, here. Not like it's the first time...nor the last. In my reasoning, it's an AU. It's allowed to go off the official path. Before going down that route, I fought with this chapter for weeks, trying to figure out how to continue it and wrap it up. Then it hit me. And I couldn't say no. Plus, I got super super impatient and couldn't wait for two characters to reunite on better terms. This just works up to that. I'm so excited! *squees*
PREPARATIONS
17 - Phoning in Back-Up
Limping, limping, until out of sight. Unnerved chocolate brown eyes watched the hybrid's form become obscured by the jungle growth and broad trunks of towering trees. Derek winced a frown and gazed down at the splintered remains of the human skull Pet had just been holding. His own dreadful memories of the doomed hunt had him relating to her reason on why she did what she did. Meanwhile another part of him was deeply disturbed.
He spoke to Terrence through his ear piece. "Got any professional thoughts on this, Dr. Mitchell?"
The normally cheerful man was unblinking, pale faced and jaw dropped. He finally blinked at the center computer monitor. Even Simon was mortified at what he had just seen. His dark eyes darted downward to the strawberry blonde man with equal curiosity.
Terrence closed his mouth, thought for a silent moment, then hoped to properly explain. "I've given up trying to figure Pet out. All I can say is...well, she's, uh… having a bad day."
"Who's having a bad day?" Both men looked up to see Valerie standing in the office doorway with a half eaten red apple in hand.
Terrence answered. "Pet just broke someone's skull on a tree."
"Oh." Val didn't look at all surprised. "If it Hoskins's skull, then I can't say I didn't see it coming." She shuffled into the room as she took another hefty bite of her apple. She smiled upon hearing the billionaire sigh in exasperation.
"It wasn't Hoskins," Simon groaned.
"That's disappointing. Who was it, then? Did she finally get a gut full of Derek's blabbermouth?"
Again, Terrence answered. "It was an old rival of Pet's, named Virgil Reynolds."
Val arched her brow. "Isn't that the yahoo that tried to kill her back in ninety something or other? That Mr. Muldoon shot in the head? At least, I think that's how the many stories went I've heard you guys talk about."
"That's him." Terrence lounged back in the chair, shoulders sagging.
Val shrugged. "I don't get what the problem is, then. You're saying she's having a bad day? How about relieving years of repressed anger and probably fear." All eyes in the office stared at the Army veteran in debate. "What? Think about it. Not only did he try to kill her, but either he or his cronies shot one of her ex-coworkers. They shot Mr. McCroy then made the mistake of torturing her dad. And you're seriously going to sit there and wonder why she did it? From what I've heard, read about in a few articles, and have personally seen of raptor behavior, they are fiercely loyal to their pack. Hell, I watched a pack help bring down a super predator, probably because it wrecked their nest and killed their young. The way I see it, that piece of shit deserved it."
Derek's voice came through the speakers on either side of the three computer monitors. "Yeah sure whatever, Val. Spitting on someone's grave is good enough for saying screw you to the dead. Completely destroying that person's skull? That's a new level of fuck you, especially for Pet."
"Hell hath no fury like a woman's scorn," Val pridely beamed, taking the final bite of her apple. The bite was swallowed before she continued. "Just use this as a lesson, if anything. Don't get on her bad side."
Paul smirked at Derek. "Weren't you just telling Veronica a minute ago, good one?"
"For having a moment, yeah!" Derek stared at the other man in bewilderment. "Quoting Shakespeare and all...before she went…" he gestured down to the bone splinters, "postal mental mode!"
"So, she held a grudge and got revenge. Big deal," Paul scoffed. "It's a woman thing, mate. They do that. It's like they never forget who wronged them. They remember your name and face and when you least expect, bam there they are to ruin your day."
Derek stood up and pointed a finger at the Brit. "No, putting bologna on a cheating ex's car is getting revenge."
Roland observed the younger man through a deadpan expression. "Something tells me you know from experience."
Derek slung his rifle over his shoulder and stomped by in his steps. "Bitch deserved it."
The helicopter ride back to the island was awkwardly quiet. It didn't help that a twisted sneer filled the hybrid's cheeks.
Pet's mood, however, changed once arrived back at the yacht. Standing near the helipad, armed and appearing ready for war, were Hoskins and his team members. Paul, Roland and Derek unloaded. Just as Muldoon and Pet were about to do the same, Hoskins slid into one of the seats. His team filled the rest of the vacant seating.
He looked at the pilot and spun a finger in the air. "Take us out." Pet didn't like the scheming grin on his goateed face. "You're with me today, sweetheart. Since you seem well enough to go on a little nature hike, then you're well enough to accompany my men and I to Isla Nublar."
The hairs on the back of Pet's neck stood on end, her blue-green eyes shifting to a raptor's. Muldoon could hear her breathing intensify and readjusted how he sat should he need to suddenly restrain the angered hybrid.
Pet hissed a snort. "I believe I've already told you I don't work for you."
"But you do work for Mr. Masrani, and I've already gotten his authorization for your assistance." Hoskins saw the woman's blood start to boil in her veins and grinned even wider.
"For what?!" was snarled.
Seeing the hybrid pissed was one thing. To see her legal guardian equally on edge was more of a worry. The ex, soon to be reinstated, game warden had a reputation Hoskins had a sense of respect for. Regarding his counterpart, she was a half predatory animal he enoyed to test the patience of. He wanted to prove previous InGen figureheads correct; she was unpredictable and dangerous. The only reason he wasn't trying to figure out a way to arrange her an accident on the island was because certain interested people with more power and money than him had big plans for her. And it wasn't just Simon Masrani that wanted to harness her potential.
Hoskins put his plotting and scheming back in his pocket, seeing how he got a satisfying reaction from the woman. There was a bigger goal to achieve than pushing her buttons. "While the boss man is meeting his construction and engineering teams, we're going to be flying around the island scouting out any potential threats near both docks. I've got two teams coming in from Costa Rica, soon, to begin reestablishing a foothold on the island. We're going to start with the east dock first. Once it's secured, we'll do the same to the north."
Muldoon took note of Pet's posture, slightly relaxing, but not by much. Her left hand's claws were still shy of puncturing the upholstery of the helicopter's rear seats. "How do you plan on securing these access points?"
Hoskins turned his attention to the scarred man. "From what I've gathered reading over notes of the island, there's only one real threat needing immediate tending to."
Pet frowned. "Rexy."
Hoskins lowered his brow down on the woman. He opened his mouth to question the animal having a name, but Muldoon speaking cut him off. "Just because the Tyrannosaur is what it is, doesn't make it the only threat. There are others."
The head of InGen's security ran through a mental list of the note-worthy carnivores on the island. "What else is there? The Velociraptors are dead. Everything else is just small and insignificant in comparison."
Pet scoffed. "Tell that to a Dilophosaurus's face."
Hoskins repeated the name to himself a couple of times. "That's the spitting one, isn't it?"
Muldoon continued. "It's not always about the size, but lethality and the numbers of that species. While five, or eight men against one Dilophosaurus might seem an easy challenge, the same can't be said against an entire nest of them."
Hoskins shrugged. "So, we take down the Rex then pick off the smaller ones. Target the ones outside their pack to reduce their threat in numbers. No matter what, though, those docks will be secured. My teams should be leaving the mainland this evening. They'll arrive on the island come nightfall, which is when we'll start securing the areas. It's better we move at night with the darkness to give us cover. The animals will be settling down for the night, making them easier to tranquilize for relocation."
Pet quietly laughed in disbelief to herself. "Just as the night gives us cover, so does it for them. Some of those animals are stealthy quiet and hunt rather efficiently despite their size and weight. Not only that but they're incredibly intelligent. You're going to need more than guns and tranquilizers if you want to track and capture these animals safely."
"That's what thermal imaging before hand and night vision goggles for on site use are for." Hoskins just knew the woman was about to blow a gasket. He could see the steam from her anger start to filter from her ears. "I've done my homework. I familiarized myself with tactics on how to handle these things' threat."
Muldoon slimmed his grey eyes down on the over confident man. "We'll see about that."
Derek was on fire as he stormed downstairs to the office room. He wasn't alone. Between the three of them, it sounded like a stampede on the approach. "What the hell is going on?"
Terrence nearly fell out of his seat in being startled, Valerie not so much. An expression loudly stating, 'excuse me' filled her face. "Rawr!" She's scoffed. "What's your issue?"
"Porky Pig just took off in the chopper with Dad and Pet!" Chocolate brown eyes were locked on surprisingly calm dark ones across the room, behind the desk.
One hand rested on his hip with the other leaning across the back of the office chair. "Don't worry," Simon began. "It's nothing dangerous. Mr. Hoskins wanted to do a quick fly over of the docks. A second helicopter is on its way. It'll take the rest of you to the island to join with the others. I'd like for my team to oversee operations at one dock while Ms. Hammond oversees the other."
Roland had his Nitro resting over a shoulder, a skeptical look in his green eyes. "You'd like?"
Simon winced, shoving his hands into his slacks pockets. "Given what little experience my men have with the dinosaurs compared to others here, it would be better to work together as an entire group."
Paul arched his brow and glanced around the room. "I thought there was going to be more for the corralling."
"There are. The other selectees for what will become the Asset Containment Unit, park rangers, game wardens and veterinarian staff will be arriving over the course of the next two to three days. I originally planned for the dock securing to begin once everyone else had arrived." Simon sighed and frowned. "Mr. Hoskins felt it best the more experienced get things started so that the newcomers could get a safer introduction to the task at hand."
"Bullshit," Derek blurted. "He's just a hot headed fuck trying to challenge you for dominance on this. This is your project. Not his. He needs to stop pushing himself around."
"Regardless," Simon breathed. "He brought up a good point. Only an extreme small percent have had exposure to the island titans. Those who have never seen a dinosaur will be overcome by the moment, whether it be in fear or awe. There's a chance their reaction, their loss of focus, could jeopardize operations. Let those who have been there done that go in to pave the way for those needing to be trained."
Roland kept his tone of voice professional and courteous for the billionaire. "I went on a corralling trip with people thinking they knew what they were doing. That resulted in a buck Rex terrorizing San Diego. Lives were lost and InGen was brought to further ruin. Granted, your men have had some experience with prehistoric animals, but not enough to justify rushing off to set up base camp. There's only two people on their way to that island I trust to know their asses from a hole in the ground, before they end up in a hole in the ground." Dark eyes met stern green ones. "Let us hope that second heli gets here sooner rather than later."
Ahead were the mountains of Isla Nublar. The grey InGen helicopter circled around the north dock to get a better assessment of its condition. Wooden piers were partially collapsed as the harbor office building was nothing more than a dilapidated ruin with a dead, fallen tree laying over it.
One of the security team men didn't seem too enthused. "This looks promising, already."
The perimeter fence line was still mostly intact, though one of the access control point doors had been ripped off its hinges. Hoskins saw it. "First things first, we get any points of entry sealed off."
Muldoon couldn't believe he had been dragged along for this. "Unbelievable." Hoskins' beady eyes shot to the scowling grey ones. "You really think tacking that door back in place will make this area any more safe? The Tyrannosaur had no issues tearing through the support beams and fencing wire comprising its paddock once the power was down. That was when the structure was still in excellent condition. It's been nearly ten years. That fencing, down there, couldn't even hold back a juvenile Trike from trampling through it. No, Mr. Hoskins. If you're wanting to set up a safe base of operations here, then you're going to have to either bring in a construction team to rebuild the perimeter fence or set up about a dozen or so heavily armored tanks to hold the line."
Now it was Hoskins who was about to blow a gasket. He didn't like anyone undermining him. This was going to be a much more exhausting task than he thought, and not because of the work needed to make it successful. "Mr. Masrani wants the area secured before any civilian contractors are allowed."
Pet curled her upper lip in a demented smile. "So I guess heavily armored tanks it is, then. Hopefully, they'll be some young, strapping hotties in uniform to go along with those tanks." Muldoon eyed the hybrid slightly annoyed. "What?"
Terrence shook his head and rubbed his eyes. "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the world's greatest and undecipherable mystery...Veronica...aka Pet. The Pain in Everyone's Tush."
Val snickered. "Too bad she wasn't named Pea. Pain in Everyone's Ass sounds better than Tush." Terrence groaned.
Simon standing more upright from his leaning against the chair and holding up a hand silenced the two. There was a look of realization on his face. "That's it."
Paul was confused. "That's what?"
"Heavily armed reinforcements trained for combat."
Derek arched a brow. "Wasn't that the purpose of your Pig Brigade? Should shit go south, they were the authorized firepower?"
"They're not soldiers," Simon corrected. "While I have the most qualified tasked to assist with this project, both with the animals and the construction, what would it hurt to have additional resources?"
Terrence lowered his hands from his face and blinked a couple of times in registering what he was hearing. "What resources?"
Simon briskly left the office, stating, "I need to make a phone call," over his shoulder.
Within a matter of minutes, the billionaire dreamer was on the top desk of his yacht with a satellite phone in hand. In his other hand was a business card belonging to Chris Bell from the U.S. Department of State. Written on the back of the card was a phone number to get in direct contact with the individual, rather than having to go through an automated menu for an eventuality. After having to work together to recover the survivors on Isla Sorna, personal contact numbers were exchanged.
In three rings, came an answer. "This is Chris Bell, to whom am I speaking?"
A hopeful smile lit up Simon's face. "Mr. Bell! This is Simon Masrani. I'm sure you remember our previous meeting?" He hoped the other man would be welcoming of the conversation, but could almost mentally imagine the look of dread on his face. Especially when he heard a tight gulp on the other end of the call.
"Yes, yes, of course! How could I forget?" Chris nervously cleared his throat. "How can I be of service, sir?"
That bit of hope just got bigger as Simon's chest swelled. "Is there any chance you can get me in contact with the United States Navy commander...Coleman, I believe was his name. I could use both his and his team's assistance with something incredibly important regarding the islands."
Bushy, peppered colored eyebrows furrowed over an older Navy soldier's tired eyes. "Yes, sir, Mr. Masrani. I have just the men." He lounged back in his office chair, one arm tucked behind his head. "No, no, it won't be any trouble. This little assignment can go down in the paperwork as a TDY, or temporary duty assignment. I'm sure my boys won't mind getting off this floating hunk for a bit to do some real work." His thin lips stretched into a pleased smile. "Yes, sir, absolutely. It'll be much appreciated! I'll get the paperwork started and the team assembled. I'll let you know when we're en route."
The call ended and Coleman sprung to his feet the fastest his old bones would let him. He wasn't that old, but damn it to hell he sure felt that way. Compared to these young, spry kids fresh out of basic training and tech school, he looked like a grandpa. The commander tossed on his BDU shirt and buttoned it up. Making sure his appearance was sharp, he marched out of his office, down a couple flights of narrow stairs and down a corridor. Where he ended up was the break room.
Hovering over a foosball table were three men, two of which were those Coleman was looking for.
Owen was on one side and the other two on the opposite side. "C'mon, guys, what the hell? It's two on one and I'm still kicking your asses!"
The commander's form filled the break room doorway. Hands on his hips, Coleman bellowed, "Grady! Gonzales!" Both men snapped to attention upon hearing their names. "Front and center!" No sooner did Coleman reposition his arms across his chest, than the two sailors were shoulder to shoulder in front of him. "Pack your bags. You're going on a TDY."
Gonzales questioned. "If I may ask, sir, where and for how long?"
"Just off the coast of Costa Rica. I'd say, hmmm…" Coleman's mouth twitched in thought, "We're looking at three weeks. We were requested specifically to assist with getting things started."
Owen narrowed his eyes. The only place he knew around the Costa Rica area needing military involvement were a series of islands that just so happened to have recreated prehistoric animals on them. "Started?"
"I received a phone call not long ago, requesting aid and possible back up from the team that helped recover a handful of survivors off one of the islands back in o-one."
Going back to that, or those, islands only meant one thing; Velociraptors. Nope. Nah ah. Not happening. No sane person would go back to those islands on their own free will. Then again, Owen wasn't going on his own free will. "Yes, sir, when do we depart?" was all he could respond with.
"Yesterday," Coleman sneered. "Get your gear and report to my office by twenty-hundred hours. I'll have you boys' orders ready. We leave right after. Mr. Masrani wants us present for orientation when the rest of his people are briefed in two days."
Both Owen and Gonzales simultaneously replied with, "Yes, sir."
Owen sighed to himself. Great
