Owen felt good today… better than good, actually. After giving the velociraptors some peace offerings for yesterday's mess, he had stayed there well into the evening. Blue seemed particularly interested in getting his attention, same with Delta, but Echo remained distant throughout. It gave Owen a feeling that training with Echo when he'd return from "vacation" would be more difficult than it was previously. When he returned to his bungalow to head to sleep, he had even felt well enough to actually keep something down the entire night.

When he woke up, he had found that he hadn't discarded his dinner — just some salami and bread — and that the nausea was nominally gone. It'd be back with a vengeance at some point, but at least he wasn't feeling pale. At least, that's how it was starting. Looking at his PDA, he saw his paycheck and it encouraged him to start looking at fares for the mainland. He'd probably go either the day after tomorrow or sometime later. It all really depended on how well he felt to get up and go across the water back to Costa Rica.

Heading over to his workdesk — documents and paper reports strewn all over it in a flurried hurricane — the navy veteran opened up his computer to start looking through Isla Nublar's cruiseline schedules to see how far booked they were. Even Jurassic World, with all its "spare no expense" jargon from Masrani Global, had cut some corners in not installing an airport to deal with the influx of guests. A trip to Nublar cost around the same as a single day-trip to Disneyworld, and it was always a round trip that was paid for: one for the start of the week, one for the end. Even for employees, who could get helifare during the less busy months, it had to be booked well in advance.

Unfortunately, luck didn't seem to be on his side. The ferries were booked well off past New Year's and into January.

"God damn it!" Owen groaned, pulling down at his eyelids as he eyed the happy cartoon face of the T-Rex asking what dates he would like to book out of Nublar. He'd have to make a note to complain to Claire again about the situation with creating an airport and making a better booking system. Whatever this was? It wasn't working. Maybe he could catch a trip with Vic or Doug out from Isla Nublar. Though the thought of sharing a helicopter flight to Site B with Vic seemed to make his stomach growl in obvious distress. Coincidence? Absolutely. But damn if it wasn't funny to think that the thought of being around Vic was what was making him sick so much.

'I should just cut my losses if I can't get off the island for the week…' Owen thought glumly. But there was no way that he'd be able to stand it. When he went out to Main Street yesterday, Owen couldn't help but be sickened by how the park seemed so… commercialized. He remembered making a visit to Jurassic World after his navy contract was up. It seemed so different compared to today's park, full to the brim with mainland brands, made to cater to well-off folks. It just reeked of a brand becoming too distant from its audience: people who loved these animals.

It reeked like Claire did. Oh, he'd thought that she was the hottest person he'd ever met. She always looked so presentable, always looked so strong-willed… but he quickly learned over one date that no one should be as much of a workaholic as she was. It was probably a sad, lonely existence being a CEO, but he wasn't about to be a boytoy to someone who'd drop him like a used pen because he couldn't keep up with such a busy schedule.

But there was a part there that he saw buried deep within: some part of Claire that still smote him on the spot. He couldn't exactly pinpoint what it was, but he saw it whenever he'd tease her with his unprofessionalism and unwillingness to bend the knee. Was it the indignation of not being in control? Was it some other fire of a wilder woman beneath all the pomp and circumstance? Owen didn't know, but he could tell that he liked Claire somewhat for that.

But, as he thought hard about it, a crackle from his radio on the nightstand came through, drawing him from his thoughts.

"Owen! I know you can hear me!" Dr. Monroe's gruff voice came on through the line with irritation as the navy vet chuckled. "Get yer ass outta bed! May be vacation, but I wanna get a good look at those stitches 'fore you go gallopin' off today!" The trainer's eyes widened somewhat at that. He'd entirely forgotten about the dull throb that ached his sides and shoulder yesterday. Hell, until the Texan reminded him of it, he hadn't really felt anything. But what concerned him was that, for the injuries he took yesterday, it was less of a dull ache now and more like a dull itch. Morphine couldn't last that long, he knew that much.

Reaching over for his vest and grabbing some bacon to put on the grill, Owen checked back in with the good doctor.

"Edd, I've been awake for the past hour… let me at least eat." The doctor responded practically immediately.

"Just yankin' yer chain, Grady. Get over soon as ya can, and I'll get y'back to reclinin' on yer couch soon as I can." Owen rolled his eyes as he worked to start getting himself ready to go. His vest — torn at the shoulder unfortunately, but at least he could replace it later — radio, a clean shirt, and a very light breakfast of eggs and ham. In stepping outside, however, Owen couldn't help but shield his eyes. It wasn't even a particularly sunny day today, but rather overcast and cloudy, and yet the trainer's eyes strained to focus in front of him.

So… he'd exchanged stomach pains and throwing up for going blind? That sounded utterly fantastic. 'What's next? Am I gonna have a seizure?' came the next thought. He'd initially thought that the pain he was feeling in his eyes was just from still being tired. Grabbing a pair of sunglasses, the trainer quickly returned outside. It wasn't the best solution, but it'd do for now. Starting up his bike, Owen quickly started the drive back to the Veterinary Center. Maybe Monroe would have something he could take for his eyes as well. He didn't feel like wearing sunglasses on such an overcast day.


The flight over the jungles of Isla Nublar was terrifying. Claire didn't know really what else to do beyond hold herself against the sides of the swaying and swerving helicopter as she, Simon Masrani and Douglass Francis were all flown away from Control. The day hadn't even really begun properly, and the park operations manager now had to deal with her overly eccentric boss as he attempted to fly a helicopter! What CEO would fly their own helicopter?!

This was something that she wanted desperately to tell the Indian man off for, but… there wasn't much she could say. What, she couldn't dare to tell the CEO of Masrani Global to not have fun at his own park! The InGen lawyer, Douglass Francis, didn't seemed particularly enthused either as his hands gripped his seat. In the short time that Claire had known the InGen lawyer, he had been almost unphased by everything that was shown to be offered by Jurassic World. It was understandable… after all, he and the rest of the company likely had eyes primarily on matters of profit.

"Got it… got it… got it," Simon said to himself as he stabilized control over the helicopter. Claire didn't feel like he got it. In fact, she felt like the god damned helicopter was going to fall out of the sky any second. Clearly Douglass felt the same, not letting go of his seat at all as the pair watched helplessly as their pilot turned around to give them a pleasant smile.

"You two look tense."

"Yeah," Claire sighed, a hand just barely gesturing to the seeming lack of focus that her boss had on the machine's controls and how his instructor was helping already on the other side. "M-maybe you should focus on the controls."

"The key to a happy life is to accept that you are never actually in control." While some profound advice was certainly what could be needed, Claire had felt that the situation absolutely didn't call for wisdom, but instead pragmatic efficiency.

"Bird!" Douglass cried out, resulting in a mid-air swerve that almost resulted in a tailspin. The instructor was now holding onto his seat, and just as much onto his lunch, while Masrani made a sound like he'd just won the lottery. How was an inspection of the new asset's paddock supposed to go if he didn't even know how to safely operate a helicopter?!

"You should spend a day at the beach, get some sun," Simon grinned, clearly telling everyone, but mostly to Claire, to calm down. The park operations manager took a few moments to straighten herself back up before she pulled out the clipboard from the side.

"Uhh… r-right. So, Marketing thought we could offset some of the costs by selling —"

"Ah, enough about costs," Masrani lazily replied. "John Hammond entrusted me with his dying wish, and not once did he mention profits. 'Spare no expense!' he used to say." Claire had already started to argue. Very clearly the company should've gone to someone more business-savvy. Simon hadn't a clue what went into operating this place day-by-day.

"I appreciate that, Mister Masrani," she began pleasantly, "but the reality of operating a theme park is —"

"Do not forget why we built this place, Claire. Jurassic World exists on the foundation of John Hammond's legacy. It exists to remind us of how very small we are, how new!" The way that Masrani had turned back to look at the pair in the back dissuaded any doubts of why he was CEO of Masrani Global. After all, how could one deny the twinkle of wonder and joy in the man's eyes? "You can't put a price on that… isn't that right mister… umm… I-I didn't catch your name,"

"Douglass… Francis," the lawyer replied through gritted teeth.

"Hey, relax Douglass. Look at the view! This is truly a lost world; John chose this place for its beauty! May as well enjoy it! Breeeeaaathe…" Douglass merely nodded as the helicopter began to approach. There it was, just past the perimeter fences, coming up fast… perhaps a little too fast. Everyone immediately tensed as they realized that Masrani was coming in low and fast toward the lone paddock in the island's north. Claire didn't dare open her eyes until she felt the very, very rough "thud" of the helicopter touching the ground. Masrani had a lot to work on with his landings. He was either too fast, as he was here, or too slow, as he was back at Control. Claire would need to remind herself later to never fly with him again.

Immediately stepping out from the helicopter, Simon looked up at the high walls in that same sense of awe and wonder he had as he had flown over the island. Douglass was already stumbling out from the other end, his slicked back hair already becoming windblown by the slowing propellers before making his way to the other side of the helicopter to get a look. Simon's instructor, meanwhile, had quickly made his way over to a nearby brush to vomit.

"Is he okay?" Claire asked.

"Oh, he's just being dramatic!" Simon dismissed, already walking over toward the unfinished paddock as construction crews continued to work.

"Why are they still building?" Douglass asked, beating Masrani to the punch clearly as he pulled a comb from his pocket to slick back his hair into place again. Already going back into business mode, the park operations manager tried to explain it to him.

"We… planned to open in May, but Asset Containment insisted that we build the walls up higher. It's bigger than expected." Claire proceeded ahead of the pair toward Paddock 11, her no nonsense attitude already clearing workers that were leaning on the rail to the observation deck out of the way.

"Wait… bigger?" Simon asked curiously.

"Yes… it's growing too quickly for its currently paddock. Asset Containment insisted we prepare to move the Asset to its new enclosure as soon as it is complete.

"So this isn't where we're going to be displaying her?"

"No, Mister Masrani. The Asset, when Paddock 12 is finished, will be transferred to it under sedation.

"So that's what Vic was so excited about, then!" Douglass "ahh"ed toward Claire, following her up the steps to the small room. It was bland, concreted and the man in charge of observing the Asset was already on break. It figured that he'd be gone before Douglass could have a chance to ask him about safety features.

"We… hit a few speedbumps early on, it began to anticipate where the food would come from. One of the handlers nearly lost an arm, the others threatened to quit until we could guarantee their safety."

"She's intelligent then?" Simon rhetorically asked. Of course the asset was intelligent…

"For a dinosaur," Claire confirmed, pursing her lips as she worked with the systems displays to try and get a read on where said dinosaur was in the enclosure.

"And 'that'?" Douglass pointed out with a gesture to the very, very large set of crystalline fractures in the glass. Three layers, nearly broken through, with the last one holding very flimsily. Claire looked to him almost in disbelief, at a loss for words in how to best-explain this to the lawyer.

"It… tried to break the glass," she finally said, trying her best to not break down immediately at being called out for what seemed like a massive safety oversight. But instead of being scolded by the lawyer for yet another safety fault that ACU and the Masrani construction teams would need to get a handle on, she got another response.

"I like her spirit," Simon muttered to himself under his breath. Douglass merely turned to look at him incredulously before back to the paddock. Something was moving in there already. The deep rumbles practically shook everyone in the room. Claire couldn't help but feel accomplished at that. They'd set out to have an asset that'd sound terrifying, and InGen delivered. They could all just barely make out the stark white outline of the theropod poking up from the trees. It was a miracle that none of them had seen the dinosaur with how brightly colored it was. There was a sense of unnerving tension in the room now, the door behind them not offering any sort of consolation for what was looking right at them. But, to keep it professional, Claire smiled and kept up her look of calm through it.

"Oh… it's white," Simon marveled as he moved to paw at his full, but cleanly-groomed beard. "I didn't know it was white…" Claire moved closer to the CEO, her gaze firmly on the dinosaur as he looked on in abject amazement at what they had created.

"Think it'll scare the kids?"

"The kids?" Masrani asked rhetorically with a soft tone. "This'll give the parents nightmares…" Claire only looked back to Masrani, not wanting to gaze into those sharp, crimson eyes any more than she already had. Douglass remained quiet, but a quick glance back showed that he was wildly uncomfortable as well, a knuckle of his index pressing against his top teeth while his other arm remained crossed.

"Is that… good?"

"It's fantastic…" Masrani's tone remained even, yet amazed. Truly science was a wonder to him, and Claire was reminded immediately why this vision was his, and why she had to deliver it exactly as he wanted.

"Can it… see us?" Douglass gulped, a question seemingly mirrored by Masrani's glance over to him before to Claire.

"They say it can… sense thermal radiation, like snakes," the operations manager replied simply.

"Scientists said there were two of them, didn't they?" Simon asked, with Douglass nodding in confirmation as she kept going.

"There was a sibling, in case this one didn't survive infancy."

"Where's the sibling?" Douglass asked. Of course he'd be the one to ask. After all, InGen had a lot of money riding on this investment. Claire only sighed before turning back to him in response.

"She ate it, Mister Francis." Both men looked on over to Claire, who was now looking back and trying to avoid the obviously horrified glances from both the CEO and the InGen lawyer, giving a pleasant, yet obviously fake smile. Very clearly, Simon picked up on it and opted to move the conversation along.

"Soooo… the paddocks are quite safe?"

"We have the best structural engineers in the world." Her matter of fact reply should've quieted any concerns that the asset would've been able to escape. The fact that there was construction all building around outside the paddock to make the walls taller already said enough, didn't it?

"Yeah, so did Hammond," Douglass responded, arms now crossed as he pointed back to the glass. "That's four panes of shatterproof glass, right? She's cracked through three of them it looks like… she knows that we're here… I-I don't think anyone would want to go to a public attraction, meant to look more pretty than functional, and see 'that' thinking it's safe." Douglass stopped to look back at the dinosaur behind the glass, the quills on its head bristling as though it had heard him.

"Mister Francis, I assure you that the paddocks are safe."

"I have investigated all of the concurrent paddocks in the park to determine the legitimacy of that claim, Miss Dearing. There are only three that I see as being 'safe': the Tyrannosaur, the Carnivore Valley and the Velociraptors, one of which is not even a public display; every other paddock is woefully underequipped to deal with potential escapes. I've yet to even see this thing's public display paddock, and I can already imagine what your investors prioritized over the safety of the guests." Douglass then turned over to look at Masrani with crossed arms. The CEO of the company had a hard look to him, very clearly listening but very clearly unaware of what the intricacies of running a theme park were. Claire couldn't do anything but purse her lips into a strained grin.

"Mister Masrani, there is an American Navy man here, runs one the raptor research program. Name of Owen Grady." Claire's expression drooped just the slightest. God no! Why was Grady needed here?! ACU had assured that the paddock was safe! "Out of all of the paddocks I've seen, his is by far the safest. His animals often try to escape, according to him. They're smart, he has to be smarter."

"He only thinks he's smarter," Claire mumbled to herself. The mumbling was picked up on by Masrani, who made slow, deliberate steps toward the Park Operations Manager as he considered her opinion on him.

"Is there something you would like to add, Claire?"

"Nope," she definitively stated. "Mr. Masrani, I can assure you that —"

"I want you to bring him in," Simon said carefully. Claire's eye twitched as she looked away from the CEO, not wanting to disagree so full-heartedly with him. Owen's unprofessionalism and lack of care for the finances wouldn't be good for getting the asset over to the paddock. "Let him inspect the paddocks. Maybe he sees something that you and our engineers don't."

"Mister Masrani, he's currently on sick leave." Before Masrani could ask why, Douglass stepped in to intervene.

"Mister Grady suffered an accident yesterday with one of his animals. I was here on behalf of InGen to conduct an investigation into the incident. After determining he was due compensation for treatment and recovery, I extended my stay to investigate the other paddocks and operations security around the park. Mister Vic Hoskins, Chief of InGen Security Division, has been most helpful in that regard."

"I see." Simon licked his lips carefully, Claire remaining as polite as she could. The intervening lawyer made her skin crawl. She could appreciate such a stickler for the rules and procedures, but in the case of the new asset? She only had about 3 weeks to ensure everything was ready, and the dinosaur was already overgrowing its paddock. They couldn't afford to make any more unnecessary changes based off the word of an animal keeper and a lawyer alone. They could do it when they had the money to make back their 26-million dollar investment, and then some.

Claire's gaze shifted back to the paddock uncomfortably as Masrani quietly deliberated in his head over what was needed. He didn't understand the need for green in order to run the park successfully. Profits were steady, but they were nowhere near projected outlooks for the fiscal year. Those crimson eyes in the brush almost seemed to pierce into her soul, being the only thing just barely visible from the asset.

"Claire… I want you to provide Mister Grady with all that he's been compensated for, and then ask to investigate this paddock before the end of this week before he returns to his duties." Claire was about to protest such a gross violation of employment laws before Simon continued. "In the meantime, I want Mister Hoskins to investigate the public paddock today with Asset Containment. If we are keeping it here for another six months, I want you to spare no expense in ensuring its comfort, and the safety of its keepers." Claire only nodded in understanding as Masrani and Douglass left to return to the helicopter outside.

Jurassic World was the most advanced theme park in the world, with the best structural engineers money could buy. Claire was already assured that both paddocks would be enough: an animal keeper whose experience was with different dinosaurs wouldn't change her mind on that, even if those crimson orbs stared at her with murderous intent. The investors were more frightening than the dinosaurs, in her mind.


"Well Owen… I gotta say… y'must've been luckier than I thought," Edd observed simply. Owen could hardly believe it himself. There was little more than long, raking scabs where Echo's sickle claws had dug into his sides. "Looked worse than it really was."

"Doc, you and I both know it doesn't take 24 hours for something like that to heal. You needed to shoot me up with morphine."

"Yeah… but I've seen some nasty roadburns from people who've fallen off their bikes before. Real nasty, the kind that look like they need t'go to the hospital for too. And they've been fine." The doctor busied himself with wiping his hands off as he looked back to the raptor trainer's shoulder. That was the injury that was hardest to explain away. "But that? Yer shoulder looked like it was aboutta be torn away when I wrapped it up. Now? Looks like a lotta scabs."

"Yeah, but scabs don't feel that thick."

"Yes they do," the veterinarian grumbled. "I'm more concerned at how quickly you've recovered. No man should be on his feet like that after an attack like that. And here you are ridin' your motorcycle over here like y'wanna get flung off by a tree root." Owen only rolled his eyes at him as he offered to the navy man a cigarette.

"Owen… y'sure y'er feelin' alright? When ya came in yesterday, y'looked like you were ready to throw up yer heart."

"I'm feeling fine… way better than fine, actually. Feel like I don't need the rest of this vacation they got me on," the trainer half-lied. Of course, his eyes had been bothering him something fierce, but maybe it was from whatever other bug he'd been fighting beforehand.

"Be that as it may, I'd suggest you keep track of anythin' unusual, like 'that'." The vet gestured to Owen's shoulder. If he were to look, he'd see a heavy amount of scabbing over where Echo had torn at his shoulder. He's already picked one off, and the skin under it felt raw and wet, as though he'd just scraped his knee. As Dr. Monroe said, it was like falling off a bike. The scars where he'd been raked by Echo's claws had similar scabs. Sure, pulling them up showed deep pock marks, but the wounds looked like they'd already been a few days healed over instead of only less than a day.

"Doc. S'far as I'm concerned, I can't even get off the island. Nublar ferry's booked to Hell and back, and I'm not going with Vic to Sorna to catch a boat to the Mainland."

"Y'really should get some time away from here. No one wants to be at work for a vacation."

"Yeah, but I'm also not the people that work Petting Zoo or Lagoon-side." Edd only gave a single "hah!" at that.

"Honestly, they make me wanna leave the island more than they do. They're talkin' 'bout how kids annoy 'em to shit sometimes, and here I am pullin' out rotted teeth from kids givin' those poor animals soft people food!"

"They can't be everywhere at once, you know."

"You see how much people they put at the Petting Zoo?!" Edd protested, "There's more people out there than there are rangers on the Safari or the Gyrosphere, sometimes combined. Same issue with the flyers. I sometimes see the same folks two or three times a month handin' over sick animals who ate somethin' they shouldn't. I even told Claire that the Petting Zoo would be a bad idea from the start."

"Let me guess she —"

"Said that 'I wasn't the one in control'," Monroe finished with a snicker as he handed back Owen's shirt. The trainer only rolled his eyes at the lack of surprise he had for Claire's need to control everything.

"So who was the suit?"

"Lawyer from InGen. Wanted my statement on what happened yesterday," Owen replied simply.

"InGen? They don't usually get involved in legal matters."

"Now they do," the trainer said. Monroe pursed his lips at that. He'd worked with InGen back when it was a separate company from Masrani, told Owen plenty of horror stories of how the last months of the company's independence were. He'd almost quit, only to be offered the position of veterinary expert and given passage by the Costa Ricans to Isla Sorna to study the animals from the air.

"Do y'trust him?" Owen only shrugged at that as he slipped back on his shirt and grabbed his vest from the nearby chair.

"'Bout as much as I trust Claire. Man's good at what he goes, maybe a little too good. But he's respectful, he didn't press for every single detail, only the bare bones, and he took Hoskins at his word." The doctor only "mmm"ed in acknowledgement as Owen checked to make sure his keys were in his pocket. If he was lucky on his timing, he'd be able to catch a T-Rex feeding. Though his eyes watering and itching so bad almost made him want to go see about getting some eyedrops from the Jurassic Traders and then return to his bungalow.

"Be careful with him if he comes back around, Owen. InGen's lawyers aren't really the best folks."

"Yeah, yeah. Take it easy, Edd."

"You too, Owen. Come back tomorrow, same time." Owen halfheartedly dismissed him with a wave. He'd be back tomorrow. Scabbing like that wasn't normal, and he trusted Monroe's judgement over his own anyhow regarding it. Heading on over toward a bathroom, Owen could hear an animal cry out somewhere, likely not being cooperative in taking its shots. Heading on over toward the mirror, the trainer took off his sunglasses, and found himself more concerned now. His eyes weren't just irritated. They were angry-red, the whites around his green irises inflamed beyond anything he'd ever seen! He'd never seen eyes such irritation with one's eyes before! They were practically almost crimson!

"What the fuck?" Owen blurted to himself. It wasn't like he could get anything off the island, but he needed to get to the Mainland. Something was very wrong there. Maybe he was getting pinkeye? He could take a helicopter to Sorna and… No! Absolutely not! Vic couldn't know about this. He'd use the opportunity to replace him with someone else, someone who'd give him what he wanted. His words from right before the attack from Echo boomed in his head: "This is gonna happen, with or without you."

Not if Owen had anything to say about it! Putting back on his sunglasses to keep the glare from irritating the obviously unwell eyes, Owen resolved to just take some eyedrops for the moment. He could see fine… hell, there was no goop in the eyes, so it couldn't be pinkeye, right? He didn't need to leave for the Mainland… or, at least, he didn't need to let Vic know he was leaving.


The paperwork was dull from today: reports on the status of embryos, a few eggs that had gone bad, and the deaths of two of the older Brachiosaurs. Henry only rubbed at his well-done hair in irritation. Why was he the one that was given these useless points of bureaucratic work? As lead geneticist, wasn't his responsibility explicitly to create over manage? Not according to the higher-ups of Jurassic World. Their focus was on the short-term gain of the animals and the profits they could generate. Why hire a bureaucrat to tell him what to do when he could be the one managing all of the other geneticists under him?

At this point, the science wasn't unknown to the world. InGen had a plethora of other geneticists with similar experience in bringing back dead animals, and competition from companies like Mantah Corp and BioSyn was staggeringly low-grade replication over innovation. Hammond had chosen him and all the staff of the original park because they were the best. Spare no expense, he had always said. Well, Dr. Wu didn't spare expense in his innovation. But it wasn't his job to worry about expense either. It was the job of the corporate-minded Neanderthals that ran this place.

He missed the old man… John never once had a day where he wouldn't come to see those new miracles of life, and he never once thought of overwhelming the good doctor with unnecessary busywork. It was what he missed most: John was unapologetically human. Oh, what would Hammond say if he saw this place operating as it was? Claire Dearing was a workaholic who enjoyed micromanagement too much, but not enough to come and see the animals that he brought to life. Not once had she come to see the Indominus Rexes at their births. They were the first that Wu had seen in a long time… but he was too busy with the bureaucratic work that she demanded he do that he never got to see the fruits of his labor take shape beyond birth. It made him bitter over the creatures, resentful that he couldn't be there to imprint on them more… these were new to the world, and he had that newness taken from him.

His thoughts were interrupted as the phone rang. Henry's cold-brown eyes looked over to the receiver, as though regretting another meeting with the higher-ups. Maybe they'd finally announce he'd been replaced, and he could retire away from this cursed place. Grabbing the receiver, the doctor answered as politely as he could.

"Hammond Creation Labs, Doctor Wu speaking."

"Henry!" He recognized that dangerous, yet excitable tone… Hoskins.

"Mister Hoskins… what a pleasant surprise." Henry coldly greeted. He knew what the man was calling about intrinsically. Something had come up.

"I'm calling to let you know that things are coming up. InGen's been all over legality lately after the attack."

"Yes… I heard about Mister Francis." Henry had certainly heard more than his fair share about the lawyer. He met him with Claire while she was offering him a tour of the facility. The Hammond Creation Labs were where it all began, after all, and where it would end. Douglass seemed particularly interested in the processes which dinosaurs were made, which at least made Wu proud enough to share the public knowledge with him.

"Wu, we need to talk about the secondary project. Does it compromise anything? Y'know, the Raptor biting him?" Wu shook his head, fingers now tapping on the desk as he tried to keep his tone down.

"If the retrovirus responds as I expect, then Mister Grady should be showing additional symptoms in the next couple of days. But even then, what you have requested may not work. It may just result in him getting sicker."

"They want me to inspect the paddock for the Indominus, Wu. The one on the north side of the Island; Dearing has me doing a little lookover of the public one they're making tomorrow; I told 'em that it looked fine by security standards. They want Owen and I to take a look at the holding pen soon. I need to know if it's gonna happen in days or weeks. I need to know what I'm lookin' for in case it starts that day!" Wu rolled his eyes callously at the selfishness of the InGen department head. Ungrateful! He was treading the waters into entirely new territory here, and this was how he repaid him?! By focusing on keeping everything like this so secretive?!

"You know that I don't know what the results will be, Mister Hoskins. We discussed this weeks ago."

"Right… but if you had to guess, what do I look for?" Wu thought long and hard on the matter, his tongue clicking the top of his mouth before he responded.

"Look for signs of irritation, swelling, something that shows physical change. That's about the best I can tell you." Hoskins remained quiet after that for a few minutes. Dr. Wu waited patiently for the head of InGen Security to respond.

"Fine… fine… okay," the man finally responded, practically bristling as he attempted to refocus the conversation. "Then at least tell me what you 'legally' put into that thing, and I can tell Grady when I go to inspect it with him." Henry's eyes narrowed dangerously in response. He didn't appreciate how monolithically impolite the man was. He was demanding, always demanding! He wanted weaponized dinosaurs, believing that they would be revolutionary… what a joke… hybridization of dinosaurs like some Frankenstein's Monster to create a weapon hurt him. So, the good doctor did what he always did, even under Hammond: cover up, and remain calm.

"You know I am not at liberty to reveal the Asset's genetic makeup —"

"Sure you can. You tell me what I want to know, I ensure the lawyer's off your back about safety standards. Especially with —"

"Vic," Wu sternly interrupted. "InGen's genetics laboratories create what you want, they do not do not tell you how." In reality, Wu didn't feel like divulging anything. He very well could. The Indominus Rex was his creation, but it was a creation far beyond the scope of what Hoskins had envisioned for it. If he wanted a weapon, he'd have it with Grady if all went well.

"Just see that I get something to tell Grady and the suit. I don't care what it is, just so long as it's useful and shuts them up!" The doctor tapped his foot in agitation as Vic hung up. He truly hated that man. If there ever was anyone that was more entitled than Denis Nedry was, it was Hoskins: greedy, implacable Vic Hoskins and the investors at InGen's Board of Directors who he pitched stupid idea after stupid idea to. It was infuriating!

Hanging up the end-toning receiver, the doctor went to pour himself a glass of tea, already thinking of all the ways to explain the genetic makeup the Indominus Rex had. It was unfortunate that such a thing was intended to be a weapon… the Indominus Rex was far more than that. But they had demanded, and money made the world go around. He was always too busy to object… and too busy to see his creations flourish as they were meant to.