"Mrs. Dearing," a female voice called from outside the cell.
Claire woke up moaning, wiped her still wet eyes with her hand, and looked towards the bars. A policewoman stood behind, watching her.
"Come, please," she said. "You have been summoned."
Without saying a word, the fallen park director got up and headed for the door which the policewoman opened for her. When they disappeared from their sight, the alcoholic asked the junkie:
"Who do you think was that Angrboda she was talking about in her sleep?" A friend? A relative? A daughter perhaps?"
Her cellmate responded with a shrug.
A few minutes later, Claire entered an interrogation room where Owen and Franklin were already waiting, seated on one side of the table. They sat her next to her boyfriend and the latter asked:
"You're okay, honey?"
"I had better nights…"
The policewoman who escorted Claire closed the door when she left, leaving the trio alone for a moment.
"You had another nightmare?"
She nodded.
"It was her again?" He guessed.
"Yeah, but this time things were… different. I don't really want to talk about it right now."
"Look, I'm sorry about yesterday. I shouldn't have said you were selfish, that..."
"No, I'm the one who should be sorry… I wanted to act like a pig-headed fool and I could have led you into a situation where you would have ended up injured or worse. I would never forgive myself if something happens to you because of me."
They heard a belly gurgle.
"Sorry," Franklin said shyly.
"It's okay..." Claire replied. "I'm also terribly hungry. Do you know if they serve breakfast? I don't even know what time it is."
"I think it's mid-morning," Owen said. "They let us snooze while waiting for the arrival of our interrogators."
The door opened, letting two police officers enter and sit across from the trio. One of them, a skinny young man in his thirties with very short hair and a beardless face with soft features, started with the introductions, speaking in English. His name was Santiago Muralla and his colleague, a smaller moustachioed man in his fifties, was Daniel Fuerte. Since the latter didn't speak English, Muralla informed the trio that he was going to act as a translator but Claire spoke directly in Spanish to Fuerte who had not stopped staring at her since their arrival.
"I never thought I would ever meet you in the flesh, Mrs. Dearing," he replied with a smooth voice. "Excuse my audacity but your gash, as horrible as it may be in the eyes of wimps, does not detract from your beauty. It even adds a certain aura, an aura of fierceness. You are like a pirate woman or a Viking shield maiden…"
"Are you going to continue like this for a long time, Cyrano?" Claire interrupted him.
Fuerte turned to Owen, who was amused by the scene.
"Beautiful and fierce, you have good taste, Mr. Grady..."
"Stop flirting, Dan, and let's get to work," his colleague said. "I apologize for the boorish ways of my college," he said to the couple, "he behaves like this with all the good-looking women he meets and this, whether they are simple colleagues, civilians or even criminals."
While Muralla talked about the various charges against them and the crimes committed, Fuerte placed sandwiches and large cups of coffee on the table, giving them to the hungry trio who immediately rushed on them. When the youngest of the officers had finished, they asked the three Americans to present their version of the facts. They recounted the events in chronological order, starting with Blue's incident, the eco-terrorists' sabotage, Benito's treason and Jocelyn's death before moving on to the confrontation with the assassins.
"Between us, it's a good thing you killed those two shitty scums," Fuerte said quietly to the couple. "They will no longer harm anyone. You have done the people of Costa Rica a small service. But don't repeat that in front of the media, especially those in your country..."
Muralla, who did not share his colleague's opinion, shook his head slightly and continued to take notes seriously and silently while Fuerte fidgeted with excitement like a child while the prisoners were talking about the attack on the Shitpiercer and the escape from the port facility. He made comments like "I wish I had been there! ", "Sounds like you're describing a video game or a movie!", "Awesome!" or "That's the kind of stuff which pushed me to become a cop, Tiago. Not paper-scratching!". When the couple discussed Torres' schemes, the moustachioed policeman said:
"I always knew that this guy was untrustworthy and involved in skulduggeries. Why did those above us believe his version? They're really dumb..."
"The investigation shall tell us which of the two versions is true," Officer Muralla said.
Once the trio had recounted their version of the facts and answered the questions, Muralla told them that if the justice found them guilty, they risked several years in prison and that Claire, who accumulated the most charges and was already in the Costa Rican justice's radar because of the events of Isla Nublar, had a good chance of being sentenced.
"It would be really sad if a woman like you goes to prison," Fuerte said sympathetically. "I promise to look deeper and..."
"Dan? Santiago?" a female voice asked over a loudspeaker. "Someone wants to see them."
"Tell them to wait until we're done," Fuerte said aloud.
"He wants to see them now," his colleague insisted.
"Who is he?" he asked.
"A guy from the DIS."
"The DIS…" Muralla repeated in a low voice.
"Oh no, not those well-connected assholes…" Fuerte complained. "Damn!"
"He's waiting for them in the captain's office."
The moustachioed policeman sighed.
"I think you understood," he said to the couple.
The two policemen led the trio out of the interrogation room and escorted them to the captain's office. When they arrived, the office's usual occupant informed his visitor from the DIS, the intelligence service of his country's government, that their American prisoners were there and he opened the door for them, inviting them to enter.
"I hope to see you again soon…" Fuerte told the couple.
The captain closed the door behind the trio and the latter saw the DIS representative, sitting in the captain's chair and smoking a pipe. Despite the impeccably ironed shirt he wore, his tidy dark hair and horseshoe moustache, the man who faced them was familiar to the couple.
"You…" Owen hissed, recognizing El Manigordo, their mysterious contact from Burgo Nuevo.
"Mrs Dearing. Mr Grady. It's a pleasure to see you're safe and sound," he said in English with a welcoming smile. "I came as soon as I heard you were being held here."
He turned to Franklin.
"Mr. Webb, I presume?"
The DPG IT technician nodded and looked at the couple.
"You know this guy?"
"We didn't know he worked for the Costa Rican secret services," Owen said. "We thought it was likely but..."
"So you admit you know him? You actually did spy, but not for the eco-terrorists. And I thought I was the snitch within the gang...," Franklin said, not without a hint of reproach.
"Mrs. Dearing's and Mr. Grady's guess was correct," the DIS agent said. "Let me introduce myself: Rodrigue Santagar, Intelligence and Security Directorate, Ministry of the Presidency."
"Since you seem to have good connections, could you explain to the cops that we are innocent in the eco-terrorist attack at Site D and the deaths of Jocelyn Hodgson and the old farmer?" The fallen park director retorted.
"Not so fast…" the Costa Rican replied, showing the open palm of his right hand. "I know you are innocent."
Someone knocked on the door.
"Yes?" he asked.
The door opened and the captain appeared. He scanned the trio.
"Mr. Franklin Webb?" he called in English. The charges against you have been dropped."
"I… I'm free?" The young man stammered.
"Not yet. We are going to have an in-depth discussion in order to ensure your good faith and remove you from the list of suspects in the death of Mrs. Jocelyn Hodgson. It should be fine. Rest assured, you will be back in the United States by the end of the week."
"But my passport…."
"We have your belongings," the captain assured him. "And you won't have to worry about a plane ticket..."
With a nod and a hand gesture, Santagar indicated to Franklin he could get up and join the captain. Before leaving the room, the young man turned to the couple.
"I know that everything wasn't perfect between us and I apologize for some things," he began in a hesitant voice, "but I wanted to say goodbye to you... and to thank you for bearing me and saving my life several times. I hope we'll meet again in Orick."
"If we aren't thrown in jail," Owen said. "Goodbye, buddy. I hope that this trip taught you useful lessons…"
"Farewell, Franklin," Claire said. "And please tell her. Avoid disappointing her even more..."
The IT technician nodded weakly without saying another word and disappeared as the captain closed the door.
"Luck smiled on him," Santagar said. "A guy like him wouldn't have lasted two weeks in our prisons."
"And us? Owen asked him. "Why do you want to see us after leaving us in shit? We almost got killed because of your little investigation!"
"It was part of the risks, and you were aware of that when you accepted the mission I gave you. At least, I thought so..."
"I especially wonder how Torres knew we searched the house," Claire muttered.
Santagar then opened his bag to take out a large hermetic and transparent pouch containing a micro-camera, a solar charger and a transmitter.
"I went to the house yesterday. I found all that there. The camera was in the garage, hidden above the door."
Realizing that the camera had taken footage of them and that it had been sent to Torres, the couple nodded and the DIS agent added:
"And we were being watched when you reported to me. By a small thirtyish woman. None other than Mrs Jocelyn Hodgson if my eyes haven't betrayed me. She thought she was discreet but it was a wasted effort..."
"Yeah, she told me that before she got eaten," Claire growled. "That dopey thought we were spies!"
"Technically, you were spying for the Costa Rican republic."
"Except it makes no difference for InGen. We being spies was enough for them. And you could have told us if you saw her!"
"Torres already had the footage, and while we were talking, he was probably already ordering your assassination. And trying to reason with Mrs. Hodgson would have been futile. InGen would have thrown you out of Site D, the assassins would have attacked you elsewhere, you wouldn't have heard those men talking about the train, and the latter would have jumped off the top of the viaduct, killing the dinosaurs and people on board. Have you told someone else about your findings?"
"Yes. Elijah Mills, the manager of the Lockwood Foundation and in a way our supervisor in this operation," Claire replied after a hesitant silence. "When he and Benjamin Lockwood recruited us, they asked us to be their eyes and ears. I thought it was appropriate to inform him about the secret research conducted at Site D, so that he in turn would inform Mr. Lockwood. Since the latter and Susan Lynton don't have good relations, I thought that Lockwood would use his resources to put an end to her plans or at least curb them."
"They put you in a very uncomfortable position… Do you trust this Mr. Mills?"
"Personally, I don't" Owen replied directly. "But we have no choice."
"And you Claire?" Santagar asked, noting that she was more hesitant.
"Not quite…" she admitted.
"Trust your instincts… When you return to the United States, be on your guard like here, if not more."
"And when will we be released?"
"Everything depends on you. Not only do I still have questions to ask you but I would need your help in a small matter..."
The couple sighed in irritation.
"Without being rude, we've been through enough shit and we'd like to go home," Owen said angrily. "It's not written Sucker on our forehead!"
"I understand that you are exhausted and wish to be left in peace after the events of the past few days, but listen to my offer before making a hasty decision that you might regret..." Santagar retorted seriously.
"And if we refuse it?" Claire asked. "I'm just asking out of curiosity."
The DIS agent moved his pipe away and sighed.
"If you refuse… The police will put you back in your cells, where you will rot until you'll be summoned to court. For the moment, you have as much chance of being declared guilty as not guilty, but should new evidence incriminating you appears, should the presence of Mr. Webb at your side considered as a kidnapping, or should even justice be moved by the speech of a poor tearful mother whose son was beaten, tortured and then violently executed by a couple of sadistic maniacs on the run... The scales would tip in favour of Guilty and may God watch over you because a prolonged stay in prison would become a very likely eventuality for the Farmer Killer of Zapotal and the Fallen Queen of Cloud Island," he warned them. "And since mixed prisons don't exist in this country, would you consider being separated for many years? To let your son grow up without his parents? I don't think so. It won't leave you unscathed and you'll be very foolish to refuse my offer, especially since I'm not asking the impossible. If you help me, there will be little mice which will whisper in the ear of those assigned to handle your case, encouraging them to be diligent and merciful..."
"Very well," Claire said with a sigh, persuaded. "I accept your mission, whatever it is..."
"I accept too," Owen said. "If we have to do this to finally get out of this mess..."
Santagar nodded in satisfaction.
"What are your questions and who shall we spy this time?" The fallen park director added.
"I won't ask you to be spies, but consultants actually," the agent replied.
"Consultant?" Owen repeated.
"I'll tell you more after lunch. We'll also have to talk about that loose carnotaur, but way later... First of all, you are going to tell me everything you know about the Indominus rex. Its biology, its behavior, its genetic makeup, its secrets… Tell me everything. The Indoraptor being its successor, the information you'll reveal to me may prove invaluable."
Santagar activated a dictaphone and added:
"I'm listening."