Notes

Soundtrack suggestions:

Conversation between Claire and Guillaume:
- Closer than sisters - Abel Korzeniowski, Penny Dreadful: Season 1 (between 01:10 and 02:04).

-o-

Claire came out of the toilets but as she was walking back to the museum, one of the guests in the lounge saw her. Apologizing to the group he was chatting with, he followed her down the hallway and called out to her:

"You've got some nerve to show yourself after all that time, Claire. How can you attend to this reception?"

As she just entered the museum, Claire turned around, recognized the voice, and saw a middle-aged Japanese-American approaching her with a brisk step and a stern expression.

"Mr. Lockwood invited me, Mr. Kon."

Daniel Kon, a wealthy businessman and a member of InGen's board of directors, snorted in a disdainful way and moved closer.

"For which purpose?" He asked her. "He's going to make you an offer, isn't it? But do you really believe he will help you? I don't think so. And you don't deserve any help. This mask barely hides the monster you are. Kids died because of you, including Kenji..."

"You think I planted bombs in the island's underground and triggered the eruption of Mount Sibo and the earthquake that preceded it? I was trudging through the jungle, looking for my own nephews, when the volcano began to show signs of an imminent awakening. It was up to Vic Hoskins, who replaced me, and Masrani to order the evacuation of Camp Cretaceous and the Cartago Valley when those signs began to show. You want to blame someone? Blame Lynton and her pack! Not only did they and Masrani hid from everyone, me included, that Nublar was about to be destroyed in a cataclysm, but according to the testimonies of Kenji's surviving comrades, it's probably InGen's fault if he drowned in the ocean," she retorted. "Torres sent a helicopter after them for a reason. You should ask them which one!"

He got angry.

"Those kids were exhausted and panicked! They weren't thinking clearly. They probably misinterpreted the intentions of Torres' men... What were they thinking? Sailing in the middle of a storm, and towards the Five Deaths on top of that? Because of one of them, I was denied proper goodbyes to his body..."

"Is everything alright?" Guillaume Vuillier asked.

As he recognized Claire and was alerted by the conversation, he had interrupted his debate with Alexander Singer, which was sparked by the latter when he evocated the idea of having the US army monitoring and managing the Five Deaths instead of the Grey Guard, an idea which displeased the WDMC director.

"Nothing that concerns you, sir," the businessman replied curtly. "Claire Dearing, the infamous Queen of the Ashes, owe us an explanation."

He looked back at Claire.

"You can't hide forever, Claire. Sooner or later, you will pay for your crimes. My son will get justice..."

And he left her, crossing the museum. Nearby, Claire noticed that Owen had stopped talking with his former colleague and was glaring at Daniel Kon. He looked at his girlfriend.

"I'm fine, Owen," she reassured him.

He nodded and resumed his discussion with Maya, turning on the way to look at her again.

Claire turned to the director of the WDMC and gave him a nod, as if to thank him for his intervention, but at the sight of her half-mask and the visible part of his scar, Alexander Singer flinched slightly, gave a faint smile and took leave of the Frenchman, pretending he had to go to go to the toilet, supposedly because of the champagne.

Once he was far enough away, Guillaume Vuillier let out a barely perceptible sigh.

"Vous cassait-il les pieds?" Claire asked him.

"Plutôt, oui. Il n'est pas méchant mais il est un peu lourd et c'est loin d'être une flèche…," he complained in his native tongue. "Je présume que vous savez qui je suis."

"L'avantage d'être chômeuse, c'est qu'on a pas mal de temps pour faire des recherches sur divers sujets et étant donné que votre centre avait de grandes chances de me contacter dans un avenir proche, j'ai jugé pertinent de me renseigner à son sujet."

"I didn't know you could speak French, Mrs. Dearing,"

"I studied it at school and I've been to France several times."

"Where?"

"Paris when I was younger and the Loire Valley while on a business trip when I was deputy director of Jurassic World."

"When the Beauval Zoo bought herbivorous dinosaurs from you? I was able to see them during a brief return to my own country between two jobs abroad. You seem to have a good level and though you have an accent, it's much more pleasant to the ear than that of many of your compatriots."

"Thanks. Your accent in English isn't unpleasant either. Who was he?" She inquired, alluding to the WDMC director's previous conversation partner.

"Alexander Singer, founder and president of the Dinosaur Protection Group. He claims to have worked at Jurassic World in the past."

"I've never heard of him. Maybe he left before I moved to Isla Nublar."

Looking towards the opposite side of the museum, she noticed that Daniel Kon had joined Susan Lynton, Alistair Iger and Dominick Silverman.

"If I understand correctly, Mr. Kon's son is one of the victims of the fall of Isla Nublar?" Guillaume asked.

"Yes. Many lost family members or friends," Claire replied in a thoughtful manner, like if her eyes were gazing into the past.

"It must have been difficult for him."

Claire's face tilted.

"Perhaps, but Mr Kon's son had to disappear for him to realize that he cared about him, unless this is playacting, an excuse to condemn me. I especially think he must be still furious that plunderers found his condo and stole several valuable artworks, including a totally ostentatious golden Sinoceratops head. A gift from Masrani…"

She looked back at Guillaume.

"I remember his Kenji, one hell of a little jerk who had to be constantly pulled back into line when he brought him during his visits. The monitors of Camp Cretaceous must have suffered with him."

"It's surprising that Mr. Kon didn't withdraw after the disaster and the tragedy he experienced. Especially if we take into account the testimonies of his son's four surviving comrades..."

"Lynton had to move heaven and earth to keep the investors, promising everyone a pony and a blowjob."

Surprised by such a salacious reference from the fallen park director, Guillaume Vuillier could not help but smile and then laugh.

Out of the corner of his eye, he suddenly saw a girl on the mezzanine and surprised by her presence, he slightly turned his head to observe her. Nine or ten years old, she was thin and had long brown hair tied in a ponytail. She moved forward discreetly, crossing a few meters before suddenly stopping to look at her surroundings and then resuming her advance shortly after, like a cat on the hunt.

But as she neared her objective, one of the bookshelves in the library, she looked down into the museum and saw that Claire was watching her too. Much like the DPG founder earlier, the girl recoiled at the sight of Claire's half-mask and she retraced her steps, disappearing in a hallway.

"Odd...," Guillaume commented.

"Scaring kids and giving parents nightmares became part of my life...," Claire said, remembering what Masrani had said about the Indominus on the eve of Jurassic World's fall.

"I thought the mansion was receiving only people related to InGen and its partners tonight. It has to be the daughter of one of the estate's employees," the Frenchman guessed.

"No, it's Maisie, Mr. Lockwood's granddaughter," Claire told him. "I met her years ago when they visited Isla Nublar. I doubt she remembers me."

They sat on the bench facing the diorama, still conversing in French.

"Do you have children?" Claire asked.

"Yes, three teenagers: two girls and a boy. If I'm not mistaken, you recently became a mother."

Claire's brow wrinkled.

"How do you know that? Are you a secret agent in addition of being the WDMC director?"

"No, I read the rumours."

"Of course...," she muttered in English, remembering said rumours.

"But I used to work at Interpol, as a field agent," he added. "Some professional quirks must be remain. I was specialized in wildlife-related crime."

She widened her eyes in surprise and nodded in amazement.

"I'm sure you must have a lot of questions for me."

"Indeed."

"I don't know when Mr. Lockwood will see me, so let's satisfy your curiosity in the meantime."

"He invited you to this reception, right?"

"Yes. As I told Mr. Kon, he has an offer for me. I don't know what it consists of but I'll consider it whatever it is. I'm out of options..."

"Have you considered changing your career?"

Crossing her fingers, she sighed.

"Changing careers? How could a disfigured thirty-six-year-old woman, one of the most hated in the United States and who is at high risk of being imprisoned in a more or less distant future, change careers? This world no longer wants me. I've read that some mentioned presidential pardon and I wouldn't have said no a few years ago but being pardoned by the Big Oompa Loompa would be too dishonorable. If only I could disappear forever. I could change my identity, go to France and become a saleswoman in a fry stand at Parc Spirou, but with my face, I might scare away the few guests this park has. Or I could become a chair bottomer..."

"But some very good people are chair bottomers."

Although she had noticed it earlier, Claire was intrigued by the scar on Guillaume's scalp.

"Nice scar…" she said.

"Yours isn't bad either," he replied.

Surprised by his frankness, she laughed.

"And yet, you haven't seen everything… I would be willing to show you more if you wish. You speak frankly, I appreciate that."

"You know, I've seen things during the Interpol operations I've been involved in, including animal mauling on human bodies."

"Oh, let's forget that all things considered. If it's for some other guest to pass out and others calling an ambulance... Without wishing to be indiscreet, how did you get yours?"

"During a skirmish against Bangladeshi pirates. They were poaching tigers."

"So you were a man of action," she concluded, very impressed. "And now, you spend most of your days in an office… Don't you miss field missions too much?"

"They had their share of risks but they allowed me to travel a lot and to learn many things. My ex-wife reproached me for acting like a James Bond-wannabe... And you, what happened?"

Her eyes looked at the floor, she took a deep breath and answered evasively.

"A large carnivore. I was in the wrong place at the wrong moment. She took my beauty first and then my forearm."

"I saw the images of that famous hero, the Ghost of Nublar. Do you have any idea of who was hiding under that armour?"

"I don't know. Probably one of the Grey Guards," she lied. "If you've read the testimonials and seen the videos, you should know that they counterattacked the Indominus and her pack soon after. He or she must have been used as bait."

"Weren't you there?"

"No, I was in another part of Burroughs. Who do you think they are?"

"A lot of people say the Ghost of Nublar is a woman, some kind of modern version of Joan of Arc. The wounds you got are quite suspicious. I would be tempted to say that you and the Ghost of Nublar are one and the same."

She looked him straight in the eyes with a serious look and then burst out into laughter.

"Come on Mr. Vuillier, don't tell me that you believe in this kind of theories made by some young Internet users who fantasized over me?"

"Let's say I'm considering every hypothesis possible," he replied simply.