As she was then part of this convoy, Claire was surprised to see the vehicles stop. Wondering what was going on, she leaned to the side, out of the truck's bed she was on. Being at the back of the convoy, she couldn't see what was going at the head and after making sure that the InGen Security guards bringing up the rear were watching their backs, she got out of the truck and began to trot up the line of transport vehicles.
She found Juan, Mark, Zia, Alexander and the convoy's other keepers, veterinarians and drivers a little further and reaching them, she saw that the motorcycle with sidecar at the head of the convoy was stopped only a few meters from a group of protesters which were blocking their way. The InGen Security employees aboard the motorcycle had dismounted to stand between the convoy and the protestors, who were shouting not in Spanish but in English. Staying behind the others, Claire scanned the protesters and saw that there was only a minority of Hispanics among them and listening more carefully to the accents, she realized that they were mostly Americans. As for the locals, they had stayed by the side of the road and would have contented themselves with quietly watching the convoys' passing. The stern and irritated looks given to the protestors said a lot about their opinion on the situation.
"Why didn't you stop them?" One of the InGen guards asked in Spanish to one of the police officers.
"But we're outnumbered, don't you see?!" The policeman cried, pointing his few colleagues overwhelmed by the number of onlookers and protestors. "We've called in reinforcements, but the closest are in San Ramón. They will be here only in an hour."
Observing and listening to the protest, the fallen park director learned that these activists had not accepted the decision taken by the United States justice, which authorized the animals' importation into the US. Fearing, among other things, that another San Diego incident might occur, they wanted the dinosaurs to stay in Costa Rica and they had brought the international press with them. Some of the protesters held copies of Ian Malcolm's books in their hands and Claire couldn't help but compare them to those religious activists who held holy books high during their demonstrations. She wondered what the famous mathematician would think of some of his followers' behaviour. It was one of fame's downsides. Attract sooner or later all kinds of individuals, including fanatics of whom one could be ashamed of.
As she scanned the various placards, Claire was surprised to find the Dinosaur Protection Group's little stegosaur among them. She wanted to point this out to Zia and Alexander, but one of InGen Security's guards did it first:
"Guys. Isn't that your logo by any chance?" He asked them rather curtly, pointing to the placards.
"Looks like it," the fallen park director said. "Have you told your members about your participation in the operation?"
"Of course, we're not stupid," the DPG founder replied.
"Is he one of our members though?" The NGO's veterinarian wondered. "Because it's easy to copy a logo on a placard."
"Well, if he is, tell him to leave this demo," the guard asked them. "I thought you were with us and not against us."
"Neither of that…" Zia muttered.
Seeing one of the press cameras coming too close to them, Claire preferred to move away, returning at the back of the convoy.
"We are worried. It's not good for the animals to be held like this," Juan said a few moments later to the protesters' leader, speaking in English and as calmly as possible. "We have to move."
But the leader, a middle-aged woman in a yellow T-shirt, wouldn't have any of it and the situation bogged down. It was hot and humid and the animals became tense, sensing that something was wrong.
While the escort's leader and Juan were still grappling with the protestors, some journalists bypassed the group of InGen employees through the undergrowth and emerged by the middle of the convoy. They began to come and go between the vehicles, getting as close as possible to the containers and crates to try to get footage of the animals. Smelling their scent, one of them got agitated, which caught the attention of the two InGen Security guards at the back of the convoy. They then saw the journalists and reached them, ordering them to move away.
But it was a waste of time because they had hardly chased a journalist from the road than another emerged from the undergrowth further behind them to continue filming, in a scene that was very ridiculous in the eyes of Claire, who was watching it discreetly from the back of the truck to which she was assigned.
She was sitting right next to a large wooden crate which contained the Udanoceratops (1), which could only be seen through small holes in the sides of the crate. The animal, large as a cow, slept peacefully unlike the others and Claire could hear its hissing snores. Like the rest of the convoy, she was growing impatient and very much wanted them to leave as soon as possible. As the journalists continued to prowl near the vehicles, her concern grew and she began to consider the possibility of being recognized, even with her sunglasses, because she wore her characteristic half-mask although her prosthesis was hidden under her silicone glove. Since she had disappeared from the radars for more than a year and that her participation in the operation hasn't been announced yet by anyone in the media, people would not expect to find her at the back of this truck but if someone ever recognized her, she was sure to see all the journalists present in the vicinity running up to her, even those then busy interviewing the protestors and onlookers further away.
I should have taken my hat, she thought. So I could disguise myself a little bit...
When a reporter and his cameraman, hidden until then in the undergrowth, emerged and headed for her truck, she knew this eventuality had come and she let out a curse before turning around and bowing her head forward.
"Am I dreaming or what?" The journalist asked his colleague. "Damn if it's her... I think we hit the jackpot!"
"You can't be here," she told them. "Please, leave."
"Mrs. Dearing?" the reporter asked while he and his colleague still approached.
She sighed.
Just piss off, you morons! You'll rouse the others.
"No you're wrong," she replied without looking at him. "My name is Sonya. Sonya Howard. I'm a temp keeper."
"Nice try but I recognized you. Thirtyish redheads with a white half-mask and a close connection to dinosaurs aren't legion. I was at the conference you gave when you got out of the hospital, you know."
"At least I tried…," the fallen park director muttered while the camera was directed towards her.
She turned her head in their direction and seeing the reporter's face closer, she realized she had indeed already seen his face somewhere.
"However, I didn't expect to find you in the back of a truck like this one," he said.
"Wait, isn't that Claire Dearing over there?" They heard another reporter ask.
God fucking dammit.
The other journalists and their colleagues then came running at the back of the convoy, with the two InGen Security guards on their heels. Claire stood up and watched them approach.
"Hey, can you try to make them leave?" She ordered the two guards dryly. "They're making the animals nervous."
"What do you think we've been doing for several minutes?" One of them retorted. "And if we use force, we'll be in big trouble. You see, if one of them sprains their ankle after tripping over a rock, they could blame us, InGen would have other image issues and we'd get fired. Moreover, we have no orders to take from you."
"Yeah, let us remind you that you're no longer our boss," the other added.
"Why are you here? You're fucking useless!" Claire told them in exasperation.
If we were still at Jurassic World, I would have fired those two clowns right away!
"Claire Dearing!" a female voice barked.
She turned to the voice's source and among the group gathered at the base of the truck like a pack of hungry hounds, she saw a podgy little snub-nosed woman with blue-coloured hair and thick-rimmed glasses resting on her pointed nose. For some reason, this reporter was also familiar to the fallen park director.
"Cassandra Landis," she introduced herself. "You remember me?"
Cassandra Landis, that bitch?! Gods! Thought the fallen park director, surprised, as she remembered that the reporter was much skinnier and her hair shorter and browner at the press conference and the tour of the I. rex Coliseum she had organized the eve of the Fall.
"Oh, Miss Cassandra Landis… I didn't recognize you," Claire said with a forced smile. "But you've gotten fatter since the last time I saw you. Are you having a contest with Lindsay Ellis? You have to stop Twitter and exercise instead, my dear."
While several of her colleagues were holding back their laughter, Cassandra Landis glared at the fallen park director, fighting the urge to immediately retort.
"I heard you left the San Diego Herald because of an offer," Claire added. "Congratulations on getting your new position. It's at BuzzFeed, right?"
"No, the Huffington Post," the reporter replied with a hint of irritation in her voice.
"Indeed, it's not the same thing. The big difference being that unlike the Huffington Post, BuzzFeed unfortunately cannot be used as toilet paper in an emergency…"
Another journalist, who worked for a rival of the two organizations Claire named, laughed.
"Well said!"
"My word, you are on fire Mrs. Dearing!" Complimented the one who approached her first. "Do you mind if we ask you a few quick questions?"
"You've retired from public life for more than a year. What have you done in the meantime?" One of his colleagues asked.
But before Claire could answer her, she was asked a whole bunch of other questions almost simultaneously. While some were interested in her participation in this operation and the state of her relations with InGen; the others inquired about her private life, including her pregnancy and her presence at the maternity ward of a hospital in Sierra Nevada; and one even dared to ask a question about her alleged visits to the Mariposa.
Someone has snitched since, the fallen park director realized. It's only a matter of time before someone write an article about it. This is also going to influence my reputation.
"Enough! Not all at once please," she begged them before looking at the road past the InGen motorcycle.
Knowing that Torres and Iger would be quick to react to the protest in order to remain on schedule, she knew it was only a matter of time before reinforcements from the Farm arrived and make the protesters and the reporters move away from the road. Whereas she was not motivated to answer their questions, an idea germinated in her mind.
"I only have enough energy for one of you," she told the reporters. "I offer you a deal: You see, I owe an interview to Miss Landis here since over a year. Assuming her questions are similar to yours, I suggest she join me in the back of this truck. So while we have our interview with a magnificent Udanoceratops sleeping in this crate, you can stay there to listen and take notes. Silently. What do you say, Cassandra?"
"If we must do that so you can finally talk to me...," the journalist said.
Looking at the back of the truck, she wondered how she was going to climb on it, doubting the strength in her legs while the only grips she saw were quite high. Cassandra stepped forward and held her arms up. Although she reached the bottom of the rear doors with her hands, she knew that she was not going to have enough strength in her arms to pull herself up to them and her young cameraman then entrusted his camera to someone to go help her.
"No," Claire told him. "Miss Landis must manage to get on this truck by her own means and without the help of others."
"Are you serious?!" He exclaimed, indignant.
"You know the expression," she replied. "No arms, no chocolate…"
Cassandra backed up and looked at Claire.
"But don't you see that I can't climb on this truck without help?"
"Then imagine that you have a dinosaur on your ass," the fallen park director suggested. "Fear gives you wings… I can release the Metriacanthosaurus a few trucks ahead if you want."
Realizing that she was making fun of them, the reporters became agitated.
"No, but this is ridiculous!" One of them protested.
"You know what?" Cassandra said to Claire. "Either you climb down and we have the interview on the ground, or you stay up there and I'll rip you apart in a new article."
"Fine! Do that, you blue-haired land whale! It won't change anything for me. After all, you already insinuated that I was the worst bitch ever in a previous article!"
As offended gasps rose among the reporters, the two helpless InGen Security guards commented on the situation:
"Is it me or is she spinning out of control? And she's not even drunk."
"And in front of cameras moreover. Her acts will soon ends up being talked about alongside those of other celebrities. At this rate, she'll make Trump himself looks like an amateur in that field..."
"She better be careful. If I understand the whole imbroglio which concerns the operation, the Lockwood Foundation and her, she's in a precarious situation. When Lockwood will hear about her behaviour... And Land Whale, what a nice fatphobic insult."
"That's not very 2019…"
"Hey, Chip and Dale!" Claire hailed them. "Shut up!"
"Yeah yeah," one of them replied without much conviction. "You won't be a smartass for long..."
"Guys! It's heating on the other end!" One of the reporters suddenly announced after reading a message on her phone.
"What do we do?" One of her colleagues asked.
"She's not going to give an interview anyway. Let's go!"
She and her colleagues then began to trot up the convoy and the other journalists rushed after them.
"Move!" One of them said. "I want to be there if there's a fight."
"The last one there is a loser!" Another exclaimed.
After giving Claire another glare, Cassandra and her cameraman also left.
"I'll have you one day. I'll have you!" The humiliated journalist shouted to the fallen park director.
"Sure," she replied.
In addition to her, the truck driver who had remained in the cabin and had absolutely not reacted, and the two guards, there was only a journalist and his cameraman at the back of the convoy.
"You didn't follow them?" She asked them, noticing that they didn't intend to move.
The journalist, a man in his fifties or early sixties of average build and height, with a bearded face and a balding head, replied:
"What's the point? They will all take the same footage and then make similar comments."
"What's your name?"
"Bernard."
"You know what, Bernard? You seem nice. You and your cameraman were kind enough to stay and not run away like savages. I will allow you to interview me."
"Should we climb in the truck?" the cameraman asked.
As a response, Claire laughed and then jumped off the truck's bed.
"We can do it on the ground," she replied while approaching them.
"No, but that's not going to be possible," one of the guards interjected. "Return to the other civilians, please, if you can't move away from the road..."
Claire looked at the two guards disapprovingly.
"You guys are waking up now? When there are only two left?"
Forced to cooperate, Bernard sighed slightly, but before leaving, he pulled a business card from his pocket and handed it to Claire.
"If your offer still stands," he said.
She grabbed it and nodded as she read it. The journalist and his cameraman then went up the convoy, followed by one of the guards who wanted to ensure their good cooperation. When the protest came into sight again, they knew what had caused their colleagues' excitement a moment ago.
Seeing that the police were distraught and refused to intervene because they were being watched by reporters, many locals had lost patience and started insulting the protestors and ordering them to clear the road. In response, some of the protestors had responded by calling the locals collaborators and the police came to stand between the two antagonistic groups, trying to calm the situation as best they could while insults in English and Spanish were hurled, with, for example, "Yankee morons!" on one side and "Ticos assholes!" on the other. If a fight broke out between Neoburgenses and Americans, they feared that it would even end up as causing a small diplomatic incident. The participants in the operation watched with a certain helplessness and the animals became more and more agitated. They could hear the angry crowd and it scared them. Lying on top of one of the containers, with his head just above some sort of trapdoor, Mark was doing his best to calm Boomer the Metriacanthosaurus, who kept shaking his head and growling.
"Shhh... It's nothing Boomer," the German keeper said very softly. "Relax, it will be over soon..."
Hearing the engine of a rather large vehicle, Mark turned and saw one of InGen Security's armoured personnel carriers rolling past the stopped convoy. Behind the APC, two jeeps were following and the keeper noticed that Wheatley's mercenaries were sitting in the back of them. The three vehicles passed the truck transporting the Metriacanthosaurus and reached the head of the convoy, where they stopped. The APC's rear door opened and a squad of armed mercenaries came out to deploy between the first truck and the motorcycle with sidecar at the very head, keeping a certain distance between them and the protestors.
"Remember, we're in a civilized zone so no blunder guys," Wheatley told them over the radio. "The first who commits one will have big problems…"
Intimidated, the protestors retreated and the squad of mercenaries advanced under the dumbfounded gaze of onlookers and police officers, who felt even more helpless than before, shocked by InGen's show of force while the journalists were actively recording it.
The squad moved past the lead motorcycle and the group of protestors finally split up against its advance, joining the roadside where several were even dragged by some of the locals.
The InGen guards at the head of the convoy re-boarded their motorcycle and drove off while the transport vehicles started up again. But no sooner had the first truck moved across a few steps than the protestors' leader returned on the road and forced it to stop, even putting her hands on the bumper, as if she intended to hold it back with the sole strength of her arms. Two police officers rushed to bring her control.
"Don't take them away!" she cried while struggling as they pulled her away. "Please don't take them away!" She added hysterically.
The truck drove off and let the InGen Security vehicles pass it. Whereas the APC came to the side, forcing the civilians to move away, the two jeeps continued, rolling slowly while the rest of the convoy followed. Sitting in the back of one of them, Theo watched some of the protestors carrying on with their demonstration:
"Bloody hell, I think we got involved in another messy business, Manny," he said to the mercenary sitting across from him, the bald one who told his story earlier to the InGen guards.
"It was tense indeed," Manny replied, looking at the rest of the convoy and the crowd. "I almost had the impression of being back in Baghdad."
Hearing of the deployment, Enrique Ordonez went to the scene and insisted on seeing Torres urgently. The director of InGen's security division eventually arrived, followed a few moments later by Jocelyn and Iger. The Farm manager saw the two men arguing:
"Who gave you the right to deploy mercenaries in the presence of civilians?" The mayor asked in an outraged tone. "You think you're in Iraq? Upholding law and order is not your responsibility!"
"Do you want those animals to leave, yes or no?!" The director of InGen Security retorted with irritation.
"I do!"
"Then let us do whatever is necessary! Because you were unable to block the roads!"
"What should I have done?! Erect a fence on both sides of the road between Site D and the old station?!"
Iger then stepped between the two men and after saying a few words to Torres, he took Enrique aside and spoke to him, trying to calm tensions.
The mayor of the canton of Burgo Nuevo only relaxed a little when police vans arrived, coming from San Ramón but also from Ciudad Quesada. Wearing riot gear, the newcomers made the civilians move away from the road and in some way, urged them to return to town. When everyone withdrew beyond the site barriers and the signs blocking the accesses, they deployed there, guarding them to prevent any further incident.
-o-
Notes
(*) Udanoceratops: A ceratopsian dinosaur from Mongolia.