*THUNK*

Another log split in half. Despite initial predictions, hard wood, like oak, split very easily. Softer woods either absorbed the wedge's energy like a sponge, or split with much resistance, the wood inside remaining connected like melted cheese pulled apart.

Maisie placed the pieces on the growing stack, long months of practice landing them snugly in place. Over the fall, Owen had her practice chopping wood in the event she was on her own. Slowly but surely, her aim struck the heart of the logs, and even the softest pine feared her splitting maul.

*BARK*

Maisie's head cocked in response to the familiar sound. She tried to identify the source with her eyes, but no animal made itself known in the frost-covered pines. Still, she knew what the source was. With a smile, she returned to the wood, placing another log on the chopping block.

Inhale. Exhale. Swing.

*THUNK*

Another victim of her duty. The familiar sound forgotten, she fell into a rhythm, splitting logs and stacking them on autopilot. Her thoughts wandered back to her past, before the autumn.

She was thankful for Owen and Claire. Granted, they were far from perfect guardians, but they were there for her, and that's what mattered the most. Owen fostered her strength and taught her how to use it best, while Claire encouraged her empathy and provided counsel in her strangest years.

The events of the Dolomite Sanctuary were strong in her mind. With the aid of Owen and Alan, she rescued Beta, the daughter of Blue the 'Velociraptor.' To meet people she and her guardians idolized was incredibly enlightening, and she hoped they would meet again someday.

Without thinking, she placed a new log on the block, and began her process. Inhale. Exhale. Swing.

"Hello!"

*THUD*

Her splitting maul slammed into the ground, as the sound of an unfamiliar voice broke her concentration. She turned to look behind her, where a strange man stood.

He was well-dressed, despite being rather casual. His striped dress shirt was pressed, and his black jacket hung unbuttoned. His face was professionally shaved, a close shave the only sign of facial hair. He appeared to be of European descent, with slightly tanned skin and dark brown hair. He flashed an apologetic smile with his perfect white teeth and striking blue eyes.

"I'm dreadfully sorry to have startled you, ma'am," he said in a Norse accent, a cosmopolitan mix that seemed to be primarily Danish. "I was looking for Owen Grady. Is he here at the moment?"

Maisie looked at her watch, the face relaying a time of 4:26. "He should be home before long. My guardian is in the cabin, if you'd like to wait."

"Very kind of you, Miss, uh…?" He gestured inquisitively, unsure of how to address her.

"Lockwood," Maisie responded, propping her tool against the unsplit log. "Maisie Lockwood."

The man's expression changed from polite inquisitiveness to surprise. "From the Lockwood clan? My goodness, no wonder you looked familiar! I met Charlotte Lockwood when I was a but a lad!"

The statement caught Maisie off-guard. "You met my mother?"

"I did indeed! My father brought me to the breeding facilities on Isla Sorna prior to the… incident." The man paused, before remembering his manners and extending his hand. "Forgive me. My name is Nikolas Bjorgenson."

Maisie's brows furrowed as she shook his hand. "Sounds familiar."

Nikolas flashed another smile. "I've made some appearances on the news. Very busy man."

Maisie was intrigued by his dismissive nature about his identity, but figured he should at least get away from the chilling wind. She led him to the cabin, allowing him through the front door.

The cabin was small, but comfortable. Everyone had enough room for privacy, as well as the normal house activities. Both people shed their footwear before proceeding.

"Claire!" Maisie called out. "We have a guest!"

Within seconds, the woman who owned the name stepped into view. She was a middle-aged woman, barely in her forties, with striking red hair and haunting blue-grey eyes. She was surprised to hear that they had a guest, but more surprised by who the guest was.

"Mr. Bjorgenson!" Her hands grasped his, shaking it with equal parts excitement and reverence. "Hi! It's so nice to see you again!"

"Likewise, Miss Dearing," Nikolas replied with a warm smile. "I trust the years have been kind to you?"

"Oh, well, you know," Claire answered with an exaggerated shrug, "pluses and minuses. Come sit down! Would you like something to drink? Tea?"

"If you have something decaffeinated, I'll have some." He let himself be led to the living room, setting his body into a comfortable sofa. "I likely won't be here long, and I have a mocha for the ride back in the car."

"One decaf coming up!" Claire rushed into the kitchen, looking in the cabinets for decaffeinated tea. "Would, uh, decaf Earl Grey work?"

"Perfectly, Miss Dearing!" Nikolas responded from the living room.

Before Claire could get to it, Maisie had grabbed the teapot and was filling it up with hot water. Claire thanked her and turned the stove on.

"Claire, who is he?" Maisie asked quietly.

"Mr. Bjorgenson is the CEO of Ribo, Inc. His family was acquaintances with the Hammonds and the Lockwoods. Kind of a friendly rivalry, in a way."

Maisie placed the filled teapot on the stove, remembering the name Ribo, Inc. "Isn't that the company that figured out how to get pure DNA from extinct animals?"

"The one and very same," Nikolas answered for Claire, having moved to lean in the doorway. "It's a company secret, but between you and me, it's the most revolutionary technology since the invention of string, maybe even the wheel."

Maisie remembered clearly. After Biosyn's collapse, Ribo, Inc. revealed that the two companies had corresponded on the topic of pure dinosaur DNA. Because of Biosyn's history of corporate espionage, Ribo, Inc. had dismissed the idea of collaboration. With no real way of extracting pure DNA, Biosyn resorted to lying about the purity of their animal genomes.

"After we bought Biosyn's assets, we felt comfortable revealing the fruits of our labor." Nikolas tapped and swiped his finger along his phone screen, and displayed it for his hosts. "I think you would enjoy it."

The screen showed a feathered animal remarkably similar to a hawk in coloration. However, the tail was far too long, and its wings were too small for powered flight. The animal responded to a twirling gesture from its handler, and spun around on long legs. It devoured its meaty reward with needle-like teeth, a mouse disappearing in its maw. Pleased with its work, it perched on the trainer's outstretched arm like an eagle.

"This is Velociraptor mongoliensis," Nikolas explained. "No additions, no modifications, no bullshit. The Velociraptor as it lived seventy-one million years ago."

Maisie and Claire stared in astonishment. It was well-known that the Raptors created by InGen were hybrids of Deinonychus and extant reptiles, but there was no way of accurately recreating the original Velociraptor with the technology of the time. Until now.

The camera moved to get a better view of the Velociraptor that perched on the trainer's arm. Its hawkish face was long, the grey snout devoid of feathers. The yellow eyes looked directly at the cameraman, reacting to the excited commendations. Its arms were tucked up against its chest, folded like the wings of a bird.

"Incredible," Claire gasped. "I never thought it was possible."

"Nobody did," Nikolas stated. "By the way, the kettle is whistling."

Claire turned back to the kettle, and pulled it off the burning gas. Carefully, she poured the steaming water into a mug, where a tea bag laid in wait for the hot bath. She handed the cup to Nikolas.

"Thank you, Miss Dearing," he said, holding the mug with both hands. "I suppose you're both in shock?"

Claire nodded, her hand on her chest to steady her heartbeat. "I mean, I don't know how I couldn't be. In the history of paleontology, we always saw them as long-gone, with only imitations being brought to life."

"I remember thinking the same." The Norseman took a sip from the mug with an approving hum. "I remember wondering 'how could we bring our past to the present, for a better future?' Well, as it turned out, a scientist in my parents' employ had solved that problem long ago, and now that we've perfected our methods, genetically modified recreations are a thing of the past."

"Sorry, what's a thing of the past?" a new, yet familiar voice called out.

Everyone's heads turned to look towards the front door, where a bearded man walked in. He pulled off his stocking cap, unveiling his dark blond hair. His dark blue-gold eyes inspected Nikolas with hard skepticism.

"Certainly not you, Mr. Grady!" Nikolas stood up, setting the tea aside. "Nikolas Bjorgenson, at your service!"

Owen shook the strange man's hand, somewhat wary of him. "Well met, Mr. Bjorgenson. To what do I owe the honor?"

"Business, I'm afraid." Nikolas followed Owen's glance to Maisie, and held his hands up. "Oh, not for her, not at all! Really, I'm here to, in a way, recruit you."

Now everyone looked at Nikolas. Nikolas retrieved his phone, and pulled up a news report.

"We've just received reports of an unprovoked dinosaur attack in the Great Bear Rainforest, in British Columbia," a news reporter stated over footage of a dinosaur interacting with a documentary crew. "All of our associated dinosaur experts have no idea on what species it is, leading us to believe it is a hybrid similar to the Indominus Rex, infamous for the destruction of Jurassic World."

The dinosaur in the footage certainly bore a resemblance to the Indominus, but it was smaller and darker in coloration. It walked on all four limbs, and stalked like a panther. The documentary crew was being smart about keeping it at bay, keeping their eyes on it and holding their hands up in a barrier. Suddenly, a red laser point appeared on one of the crewmen, and a loud screeching sound echoed out. The sound caused the dinosaur to attack the documentary crew, and the footage ended.

"Looks like the Indoraptor," Maisie stated.

"It does," Nikolas agreed, "which worries us. There should have been only one, and the corpse was disposed of. We saw to that personally. Not to mention that they may be making more."

"Who's making more?" Claire asked.

"We don't know. Reports indicate that they want to put humanity on the same level as dinosaurs. They have yet to claim responsibility or reveal their name, we just know what survivors have witnessed."

"So what do you want with me?" Owen crossed his arms.

"We would like your experience," Nikolas said. "You're the only person we know of with Armed Forces training and has fought two hybrids. Also, as much as we hate the idea, dinosaurs might be our best allies to fight these hybrids. You are, by far, the best candidate for our counteroffensive."

"Wait, why do you care?" Maisie asked accusingly. "Why does your company want to stop these guys?"

"Simply put, Miss Lockwood, wild dinosaur attacks, even on the surface, damage our reputation. We present dinosaurs to the modern public, and dinosaur attacks put a sour taste in the public's mouth. I have altruistic motivations, but Ribo, Inc. wants to preserve its investments. As long as we have the same goal, I don't care about the reason. Do you have good enough reasons?"

Owen thought it over. He looked to his girlfriend, then to his adopted daughter, then to the outdoors. He stared long and hard outside.

"The girls are protected?" he asked.

"As much as they accept," Nikolas answered. "We can even arrange for your Raptor to meet others in a nearby sanctuary."

The prospect made Owen's eyes light up. "And her child?"

Nikolas was surprised by the knowledge of a lone Raptor having a child. "Her too. They'll reside in a quarantine pen to acclimate to the pack before they mingle."

Owen seemed pleased with the idea. He offered a small smile.

"Let's talk business, Nikolas."