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Jurassic Park Dawn of Retribution Stage Five
By JPJunkee+Yvonne
FIFTH STAGE
"I have come to believe that the whole world is an enigma,
a harmless enigma that is made terrible by our own mad attempt
to interpret it as though it had an underlying truth."
-- Umberto Eco --
The three boats made their way past the island's coast, and into an inlet, that led to the heart of the island. The inlet was a narrow snaking river. The boats moved through the river in a single file line. Larson stood at the bow of the lead boat.
He took in a deep breath, smelling the familiar air. He was back. The sounds of the prehistoric jungle surrounded him. He hadn't been in a jungle since '93. It was on that last day on Nublar, that he realized what would end up consuming his life.
A sudden rush of memory flashed through his mind. Him kissing Suzan in the room they had shared on Nublar. Him holding her hands as they walked along the side of a lake. The sight of seeing Suzan waving her arms in terror at the harbor, pleading for someone to come back to save her. The huge figure of the dinosaur looming over her body, and then biting her in half. Larson had never actually seen Suzan die, but a man's mind has ways of twisting reality, or past events.
Some say the mind bends and twists in order to deal with the horrors of life . . . but sometimes the mind bends so much, it snaps in two. That's when delusion and insanity begin to set in.
Larson felt a warm tear come rolling down his cheek. For Suzan, he reminded himself. This was all for Suzan. By dawn, he would bring upon retribution. He would finally be able to rest at ease, and move onto the next big quest.
Larson pointed out a long clear strip of land next to the river. They would unload here.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Leah Owens watched out of a nearby window, as the boat slowed to a stop at the side of the river. Men began to jump off the boat and tie ropes to the trees, to ensure that the boats wouldn't float away. She watched as Larson stood at the bow of the boat, his arms folded across his chest, observing the entire scene.
For Leah it all seemed like a dream, like it moved in slow motion. After her terrifying encounter with Larson, she had been forced into a nearby cabin, locked in for "her safety", McCarney had said. The only thing she felt compelled to do at this point, was to warn Aaron that she had been right in her assumption of Larson.
She couldn't do that though, since she was trapped like a rat in the tiny cabin that was overlooking the docking area. She could practically hear her heart pumping, as she watched Larson turn to her window and wink at her.
Mixed with both fear and outrage, she turned away from the window and began to figure out a way to escape her small confines. Grabbing a nearby screwdriver, she began to work at the lock.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"No, you stupid bag of shit! I said we've got a permit!" McCarney yelled into the radio. He was standing at the bridge, arguing with the Costa Rican government about the restrictions of the island. Only, McCarney couldn't understand what the government was trying to tell him.
"Su partido ha entrado un área restringida. U hoja el área ahora, o el arresto del riesgo, " a woman told him in Spanish.
"Don't you hear what I am saying?! I told you; no speaka any Spanishio! Kapeesh?" McCarney shouted.
"Repito, su partido ha entrado un área restringida. Si usted debe escoger para permanecer en esta área, usted encarará la prosecución, y se sentenciará para encarcelar tiempo, por la orden de la Costa el Gobierno Rico."
McCarney rolled his eyes, then stuck his head out the door, and shouted to Larson, "Yo, Brock! Eh, we've got a little problem here."
Larson turned away from his men, as they continued to unload equipment. "What kind of problem?"
"Just our friends from the god damned Costa Rican Government . . . as far as I can tell. They don't sound too happy about something."
"You don't speak Spanish?" Larson asked.
"If I spoke Spanish, we wouldn't have a problem, now would we?"
Larson turned to the others. "Does anyone here know how to speak Spanish?"
Everyone shook their heads.
Larson rolled his eyes.
"I thought you were going to get someone who spoke Spanish," McCarney complained. "Having someone like that would sure as hell come in handy right about now."
"I was busy," Larson stated.
McCarney nodded his head slowly. "So what do I do?" McCarney asked.
"I don't know. You can sing them Costa Rica's national anthem, for all I care. Just hurry up, so you can get out here and help me," Larson barked.
McCarney frowned, and went back to the radio.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Aaron Madison walked off the boat, and up to Larson, who was bent over a large black case.
"What do you got there?" Madison asked, pointing at the case.
Larson looked up, not recognizing the voice, and then smiled when he saw it was Madison. "Ah, not much." Larson opened the case. "Just a few firearms." Inside the case, secured by soft padding, was a pistol, and two rifles. Larson removed the two rifles and summoned two men over to him. When he gave them the rifles, the two men ran into the brush. "Those guys will just check out our surroundings, set up a perimeter of sorts, make sure it's all safe to proceed from here."
Larson pulled the pistol out of case, and then locked the case closed. He held the pistol at his hip, the barrel pointing at the dirt. Larson smiled and asked, "So, Mr. Madison, you ready for this?"
Leah ran out to the top of the boat, her head spinning in all directions, looking for Aaron. She had managed to open the lock and had run for the deck of the boat, trying to get a visual as to where Aaron might be.
"Ready for the island?" Aaron asked, oblivious to Leah's searching.
"Among other things," Larson said.
Leah found Aaron, on the shore, speaking with Larson. Larson was holding a gun at his side.
"Aaron!" Leah screamed at the top of her lungs, heading for the shore.
Aaron turned away from Larson, and looked at Leah standing at the bow of the boat. Even from that distance, he could see the fear in her face.
Leah rushed across the wooden plank positioned between the boat and the small dock, almost to him. She wasn't thinking at all. She just wanted to get him away from the immediate danger.
"Aaron, run!" she screamed.
Larson decided it was time to reveal a few of his cards, as Leah was making her way toward them. When she saw him begin to raise his arm in the air, she stopped on the small dock.
Aaron, not quite sure of what to think, looked back at Larson, and the gun barrel that was aiming straight at his head.
"Woah, wait, what's going on here?" Aaron asked, putting up his hands.
"I am sorry, Mr. Madison, but I really have no use for a camera man in such places as this."
"You- you know who I am?"
"Oh, yes, indeed. I know very much about you, and Ms. Owens. I know all about your little expedition to Costa Rica. And I know all about your health, family, and career history."
Aaron's face turned from uncertain fear, to a sort of rage. "Who in God's name do you think you are?"
"I am but a figment of your imagination." Larson smiled as he pulled back the hammer on the pistol.
All around them, the men were quiet. All eyes on Larson and Aaron. No one spoke, no one moved.
Leah stood on the dock, whimpering, and trying to look away, but not quite able to. Having some time to think about her actions now, she realized how stupid it was to go off running and yelling. There was nothing she could do, though, as she waited to see what would happen next, hoping that Larson would somehow go against her thoughts and spare her friend.
Larson winked at her again, as his finger rested on the trigger. An uncontrollable shiver invaded her body, causing goose bumps on her arms.
"Goddamn puss sucking, bitch! Stop talking!" McCarney yelled from inside the boat. McCarney opened the door once again, and looked outside. He was taken aback when he saw the scene that was about to unfold. Then he said softly, "Um, just checking again, no one here knows how to speak Spanish?"
Aaron looked away from the gun that was pointed at his face, and looked at McCarney. "I can."
Leah sighed in relief, as she saw the hint of a sparing smile crawl across Larson's poisonous face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Larson was standing with Griffin outside the bridge of the boat. Looking through the windows, Larson could see Madison still bent over the radio, speaking with the Costa Rican government. McCarney watched over Madison's shoulder the entire time, making sure to note that Madison said none of the words that could possibly mean, "help" or "send rescue". Larson knew that McCarney would only be able to understand so much, just as much as anyone else would. But, it was enough.
"What do we do about him?" Griffin asked, speaking about Madison.
"Once he is done on the radio, we shoot him, and throw him into the river."
"His ability to speak Spanish could prove useful---"
"Madison's ability to speak a different language changes nothing."
"He is a friend of Dr. Grant's no doubt," Griffin reminded him. "If the woman is not enough bait for Grant, then perhaps two of his friends will be."
"I thought you were the one that didn't want either of them included in this thing from the beginning."
"That was then. I didn't realize we wouldn't have any men who spoke Spanish, then."
Larson's eyes narrowed. "Madison dies."
Griffin stared into Larson's eyes for nearly a minute. Until, he finally broke the eye contact, looked at his feet, and nodded grimly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Several moments passed before Madison finally stepped through the door, and walked out on deck. McCarney followed closely behind him.
"What'da tell them?" McCarney asked.
"Blatant lies. But, I think they bought it. So I think we're good," Madison replied.
"What did you tell them?" McCarney repeated.
Aaron sighed. "I told the woman I was speaking to, that I was with CNN and that I was working with a crew that had been offered an exclusive look at Isla Sorna. She told me that I was lying. I told her that she didn't know what she was talking about, and that President Pacheco himself had granted us the privilege of visiting their majestic island. Again, she accused me of lying. Again, I shot her accusations down by going into technical bullshit, saying that it was under Protocol 397 that our party's presence on the island must remain secret, and that no one knew about the little thing we were doing, other than people that were in the loop of the need to know."
"What's Protocol 397?" McCarney asked.
"I haven't the faintest clue. But, it worked. She bought it. The secret with talking to people like that, is to be polite and charming. I spent nearly five minutes apologizing for the rude yelling man that had spoken to her earlier."
McCarney grinned slightly. "So, it's all good?"
"For you, yes, it's all good," Madison answered.
"Hey Mick!" a voice called from the shore.
McCarney looked at the shore, and saw Jack holding up a small object, that was made of shiny silver plastic.
"I think it's broken!" Jack shouted.
"Ah, shit. Can things get any worse?" McCarney growled underneath his breath, and stormed over to Jack. "Did you break it?"
"No," Jack said. "It just . . . isn't working. I found it this way."
McCarney grabbed the object from Jack's hands and began pressing all sorts of buttons. "If it's broken, I'm going to hold you accountable for it," he said.
Madison walked up behind McCarney and asked, "What is it?"
McCarney didn't even look up from the device as he said, "GPS. We're using this thing to keep track of where everybody is, in case we get separated, and for finding our way around the island." McCarney growled at the small piece of equipment, and began to slap the side of it. "Dammit, why won't you work?" he hissed.
"Let me see it," Aaron said. He put his hand out.
"You know about this sort of stuff?" McCarney asked, finally looking up at Aaron.
Aaron shrugged. "I know more than most people. My friend's a pilot. And I'm a cameraman . . . I know my technology."
McCarney smiled, "Well then, best of luck to ya." He handed Aaron the GPS locator.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Leah was sitting down by the roots of a tree at the side of the river. Her elbows were on her knees, and her face was cradled in her hands. Tears made their way through her fingers, as she wept in concern and doubtfulness. There was one guard standing next to her, aiming a rifle in her general direction, and she was almost wishing that he would shoot her. She had the desperate feeling to end all of her troubles . . . to just go to sleep and forget about what was happening to her, since she was sure that things were only going to get worse.
She didn't think it would get worse so soon.
The sound of approaching footsteps caused her to look up. Standing before her was Larson and Griffin.
Leah never took her eyes away from Larson, as her reporter's mind began its inquires, "Why are you doing this? We did nothing to you. Especially not Aaron. Why do you want to kill him?"
There was a long silence.
Griffin turned his head towards Larson, awaiting his reply.
Finally it came. Larson got down to his knees, and spoke to Leah softly. "Do you know what is regarded as the greatest of all things evil in the world?"
Leah simply stared at Larson.
Larson smiled. "Nothingness. The most evil thing in all the world, is nothingness. For, what is right with doing nothing? There is no right thing. Nothing, is all wrong. Always. For a man who does nothing is a waste of a life . . . a waste of a soul. I can see not a single thing worse, than a man who has done nothing. And so you ask me, why am I doing this to you, seeing as, you have done nothing?" Larson leaned in closer to Leah, and whispered, "I'm doing it, because it is what's right."
Leah stared at Larson's eyes. The constant threats against her life in the last hour had numbed her emotions. She sighed and softly said, "You're trying to scare me with what you say. Don't bother. You're just talking in circles. The only people you might actually scare are your men, when they realize they have such a wacko as their leader."
Larson didn't move, he continued to stare into her eyes. Larson’s eyes were like bores that dug right into your very being, piercing your soul, haunting your mind. Then Larson let out a soft laugh, and got to his feet, and walked away.
Griffin stood motionless, looking down at Leah, her face still slightly wet from the earlier tears.
"You don't have to do this," Leah whispered to Griffin, nodding to the rifle in Griffin's arms.
Griffin thought about that statement for what seemed like an eternity.
"Just stay here and don't give him a reason to kill you," he finally said. Then he reaffirmed his grasp on the rifle, and turned his back on Leah, leaving her with her own grieving thoughts.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"What's wrong with it?" McCarney asked, standing beside Madison.
Madison had the GPS locator opened, and its components spread out on a table. "Um, I think this thing." Madison held up a small silver object that looked like an old church bell. "I think this got reversed somehow."
"Reversed?"
"Um, yeah, the power flow of this thing, was reversed by some sort of magnetic field. Thus, turning it all upside down, and . . . reversed."
"Can you fix it?"
"I can't see why not," Madison answered, as he spat on the bell-like object, then began to rub it on his shirt. "What I'm trying to do now, is cancel out all its recent memory passages, and hopefully bring it all back to normal."
"Spit does that?" McCarney asked.
"Um, no, not exactly. Liquids do that. When you get a CD wet, the memory could be erased. Well, on this little thing, when it gets wet . . . it suffers from memory loss, but only recent stuff. So, hopefully by erasing the recent memory, we get rid of the reversing, and bring this thing back to what it once was."
Madison watched as a strange red dot appeared on the pieces of the GPS locator spread out before him. Then, he watched as the red dot moved from the GPS to his stomach, his chest, and then it finally came to rest on his nose. He looked where the red beam was coming from, and was not too surprised to see it was originating from a rifle, in the hands of Larson.
"Fix it now," McCarney whispered.
"What?"
"Fix it now, and he might let you live."
Madison nodded as he began to reassemble the pieces of the GPS locator. He pushed the bell-like object into its slot, then tied a few wires here and there. Then, he took the front casing and put it on top, and latched it closed again. He looked up from what he was working on, and saw Larson bringing his eye to the scope of the rifle. Madison took in a deep breath as he put in the last bolt, then flipped the switch to 'on'.
There was a beep, and the screen turned bright green.
"It works," McCarney exclaimed with a smile. He stepped in front of Madison, the laser now on his back, and took the GPS locator from the bigger man's hands and whispered, "Nice going." Then McCarney walked away.
Madison stared at Larson who was still aiming the rifle at his head. Finally, Larson flipped off the red laser and lowered the rifle.
Madison let out a long sigh of relief. His legs felt like noodles, and he was afraid he'd fall over at any second. But, he found the strength to stand up, put on a stern face, turn away from Larson, and join the others in preparing the equipment.
* * *
Sarah Harding-Malcolm rolled her eyes as she changed the radio station once more. It was like, all at once, every radio station in the state had decided to play depressing and gloomy songs. Sarah wasn't in the mood for a depressing song. Not now.
The radio changed to a station that was playing the song, "When The Lights Go Down" by Faith Hill. She left the station on for a moment, listening.
"When the lights go down and there's nothing left to be. When the lights go down, and the truth is all you see. When you feel that hole inside your soul, and wonder what you're made of ... well, we all find out when the lights go down."
She began humming to the song that she had never heard before, until realizing that it too, was somewhat depressing.
Sarah sighed, and turned off the radio.
She was driving home, through the neighborhoods of her and Ian's hometown. She was just getting back from her uneventful trip to Montana. Her welcoming to Dr. Grant's dig site played through her mind once again, just like it had been for the last twenty or so odd hours.
Sarah had arrived at Grant's trailer, at his dig site in Montana, just after nine o'clock the night before. The sun was just beginning to set, and the crickets of the valley were coming alive with chirps.
She had knocked on the door to Grant's trailer numerous times, for nearly five minutes, without receiving an answer. She and Grant had agreed to meet each other at that time, at that exact spot. And she had always known Grant to be a man of his word, so his lack of not being there raised many uncertain questions.
Not sure of what to do, she had tried using her cell phone to call Grant's own cell. But to her dismay, when she called the number, she heard a phone ringing from within the trailer.
Cursing her bad luck (or timing) she moved away from Grant's trailer, and to the tents and trailers of the rest of the dig team, thinking that perhaps they could reveal some answers to her.
She saw a man leaning his back against a small table and drinking a beer. The man's hair was unkept but it went with the chaotic Hawaiian pattern of the shirt he was wearing. He wiped sweat from his brow, when he saw Sarah approaching.
"Can I help you?" the man asked politely, slurring his speech.
"Yes, I hope so, I'm Sarah Harding," she said, shaking the man's sweaty hand.
"Oh! Mrs. Harding, nice to meet you. I'm K.J. Rogowski," the man explained, nodding his head excitedly, a big toothy grin on his face the entire time. "Um, you're here to see Dr. Grant aren't you?"
"Yes. I was supposed to meet with him this evening. Could you tell me where I might find him?" Sarah asked.
"I wish I could," Rogowski said, shaking his head. "But earlier this afternoon, he went somewhere with some Spanish gentlemen. Odd really. Doc never told us where he was going, and he's usually very good at that sort of thing."
"So you don't know when he'll be back?"
"Nope. And to be completely honest, I don't think it's gonna be too soon." Then Rogowski paused as if recollecting the events from earlier, then he said in a low tone, "The people he left with . . . I've got a bad feeling about them folk. And when I get these feelings, I usually am right. Some of my friends think I'm psychic and shit. I don't give it much thought really. But, sometimes when I get these . . . feelings, and they end up being all true and such, I get scared, ya know?"
"Yes, I think so . . . Um, is there someone else I could speak to?"
"Why would you want to speak to someone else? I've told you everything and anything someone else would have told ya." Rogowski's eyes narrowed as he approached Sarah in an angry manner.
"Well, I--"
"You what?" Rogowski said, placing a strong hand on Sarah's shoulder.
"Why Mr. Rogowski!" came a voice from behind the drunk man. "What do you think you're doing?"
Rogowski turned and saw a man approaching him, holding a bone chisel in his hand. "Oh, nothing Rob. I was doing nothing. Just . . . speaking to Mrs. Harding here about . . . ya know . . . about stuff . . . ya know?"
"Please remove your hand from Dr. Harding's shoulder, before I remove it for you," Rob said in a stern voice.
"Uh huh, okay," Rogowski said, letting go of Sarah. "I wasn't gonna do nothing."
"Yes, I'm sure you weren't K.J. But, may I recommend you go lay down and take a nice nap? I think you may need one."
"Uh huh, okay," Rogowski sighed, and moved away from them.
"Thank you," Sarah said, once Rogowski was out of ear shot.
"That's okay, Sarah," Rob said smiling.
"Do I know you?" she questioned.
"Eh, you probably don't remember me. Rob Tandy. We met a couple years ago when you and Alan were working on that theory about . . . damned if I remember. Anyway, I'm sorry about that guy's manners . . . people these days." Rob shook his head, as if clearing his thoughts. "You came here to see Alan, right?"
"Yes, though from what that other man has told me, he's not here."
"No, I'm sorry to say he's not. I wasn't here earlier, but other workers have told me that he had left with Dr. Degler about three hours ago with some other foreign fellows."
"Dr. Degler?"
"Yes, they said she looked very distressed. I haven't seen Ellie in a long time . . . and thinking about her like this wasn't exactly pleasant. No one even spoke to her, no one besides Alan."
"Do you know where they went, or when they're coming back?" Sarah asked.
"No, I'm sorry," Rob said frowning. "Although judging by the manner in which they left, it seemed to be some sort of emergency. And I don't think he'll be back too soon . . . though I really just don't know for sure at this point. If he calls, I'll let him know you were here."
And that's what brought her here. Driving back home. Never speaking to Dr. Grant. And never finding out about his mysterious departure from the dig site. She was left in the dark.
Sarah let out a long sigh as she pulled into her drive way, and parked out in front of her house. She was slightly surprised to see a silver Mercedes and her younger sister's car parked at the end of the drive.
Confused, Sarah got out of her car, and approached the Mercedes. She touched the hood of the car, it was cool. She heard a door open and looked up to see the front door of her house ajar.
In the doorway, was her sister, Alyse, and behind her, John Hammond.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Where is he John?" Sarah was almost yelling. She was running about the house, checking in all the rooms for Ian
"Please dear, sit down," Hammond pleaded with her, from his wheelchair. "I'll explain everything."
Sarah came running up to Hammond, an unstoppable rage of fear and uncertainty in her eyes. She pointed her finger at John as she sternly demanded, "You're damn right you'll tell me. And he better not be hurt John . . ."
"He's not, I assure you," Hammond insisted. He sounded convincing, but his forehead was sweating.
"Can I get anyone a drink?" Sarah's sister, Alyse asked.
"Oh, yes please," Hammond smiled.
"Sarah?" Alyse said to Sarah.
Sarah just shook her head. She was thirsty, and hungry as well, but at the current moment she couldn't think about such things. Ian, her husband, was missing. And now John Hammond, Ian's "nemesis", was in her house. She didn't know what to think. This was all happening too fast.
Alyse walked back into the room, with two glasses of iced tea. She handed one to John, and then began to drink the other one herself.
Hammond smiled and sipped his tea, "Ah, very good. Thank you, Alyse."
By doing something as simple as using her sister's first name, Sarah could easily tell that John Hammond had already used that ill-witted charm of his on Alyse.
The snake charmer turned to Sarah and lowered his head, "Now, Sarah. Please stay calm as I say this. Okay?"
Sarah nodded her head.
"Okay, first, let me assure you, that Ian is fine. He's not hurt. And he will be back soon."
"Where is he John?" Sarah repeated.
"I'm getting to that, please hold on. To understand this all, I will need to tell you a far grander story. Then, and only then, can I tell you where Ian is."
Sarah nodded.
"Okay, good . . . " John paused, and looked at Alyse. Sarah too, began to stare at her sister.
"What?" Alyse asked.
"Please, my dear," John began, "it's nothing personal, believe me. But, it would probably be best for all of us, if you were out of the room, and didn't hear any of this."
Alyse sighed, "Fine. I only let you into the house, but okay, fine, I'm going." Alyse walked out of the room, and opened the front door and stepped out onto the front porch. John Hammond's driver was standing out on the porch.
Alyse nodded at the man, an old English gentleman with shiny white hair. "What's up?" Alyse asked.
The driver gave her an odd expression, "Sorry?"
"What is up?"
The driver looked at the sky. Then looked back at Alyse, "Sorry?"
Alyse sighed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"What is it you're going to tell me, John?" Sarah asked. She hadn't expected John would make Alyse leave the room. She didn't think it'd be that secretive. She was worried.
"This all began about twelve years ago. Nublar was going along well. Everything was prosperous. Everything was. . . looking up. There was not a doubt in my mind that Jurassic Park would be a complete success," John paused, as if reminiscing the glorious idea of Jurassic Park actually being a success. Then, he snapped back into reality and smiled. "It was a day like any other. Henry Wu, the head geneticist of Jurassic Park, had told me that he was in need of more geneticists. I told him that was understandable, and so, I looked for more people to add to the team.
"I met Brock Larson the next day. He was a strapping young man. Very muscular. A very austere looking man. Not quite who you would picture being a geneticist, or even a scientist for that matter," Hammond paused again, this time the expression on his face showed that the thoughts were not so happy, instead they appeared to be more upsetting. Again, the frail man snapped back into reality, this time he frowned however. "I hired Larson for a job on Nublar. I always met all the science members of the team in person. I can tell instantly about people . . . usually it's a gift. But with Larson, it was more of a guilty thorn in my side, reminding me of the injustice . . . that I had brought upon the world."
Sarah did not know what to think of all this. What did this have to do with Ian? She was confused, but she didn't say a word.
"Brock Larson was a man apart. His soul had been . . . torn so many times that . . . he was unpredictable. A smart young man; yes. A dangerous addition to the already questionable idea that was Jurassic Park; absolutely. Larson had been to numerous shrinks in the past, dealing with a sort of depression that had plagued his life for so long. But, by the time I first met him, he seemed better. He . . . acted like a totally sane human being. But I knew better. I could see it in his eyes. I could tell immediately, this man was disturbed. But, it was either between hiring Brock Larson for the job, or a different doctor from FSU, by the name of Joel Tovi -- who was asking for twice as much money for the job. I knew hiring Larson could eventually bring danger upon myself and others. I knew he was not quite . . . there in the head. I knew all this, and still I hired him." Hammond hesitated, then continued, "I spared expense."
Sarah sighed, "John, what does---"
"Please, let me finish," Hammond interrupted her. "On the day of the incident on Nublar, Larson escaped with a lot of the other scientists on the last leaving ship. His girlfriend however, did not make it. He saw her killed while waving on the harbor for the ship to return."
"Oh. my God."
"Larson had already suffered too much heart ache in the past. Too much. And now he had finally moved on, and then his love dies right before his very eyes. Needless to say, the young man fell into a deep depression. He hardly even talked. His blank stare was like that of an animal's. So much fury, so much hate. He was not allowing himself to do much else other than feel sorry for him and his . . . and hating those who he had blamed for her death." Hammond took a deep breath. It seemed this was hard for him. "I visited Larson once. It was five months after the incident. He was staying in a mental hospital, not far from Chicago, Illinois.
"I sat down with Larson outside the hospital, at a bench in the back lawn. I sat beside the young man. He said nothing. And I didn't know what to say. His eyes were so . . . they were like a void of black, forbidding one to ever look upon them. This man had endured so much hurt. And to be perfectly honest, I was quite terrified to be sitting next to him, what with me being as old as I am, and him being as muscular as he was . . . I told him I was sorry. There was a long silence, then he turned to me, and muttered the words, 'you will be' . . . I left then. Larson and I had not spoken since that day at the hospital. That is, until recently."
Sarah stirred, a look of shock on her face, but she said nothing. Hammond took another sip of his tea and continued.
"Brock Larson was released from the hospital nearly eight months ago. I was never informed of this. But, the Doctors say that he was in good health and was ready to return to society." Hammond shook his head at that thought, then continued, "Since breaking out, I am certain that he has become violent. I am certain that he has taken another man's life. And I am certain that all the people that were involved in Jurassic Park, are now in danger."
"Why would you think that?" Sarah asked.
Hammond sighed, trying to choose the best words, "Sarah. Excuse me, if I sound . . . harsh, or unkind. I do not mean it. I simply mean to tell you the truth. It's about your father."
Sarah was caught off guard, "My father?"
"Gerry was the head veterinarian at Isla Nublar. He never told you, did he?"
Sarah was speechless. She shook her head.
"No, I knew he wouldn't. He was one of those men you could always count on to keep a secret."
"What does this have to do with my father?" Sarah demanded, getting more emotional that she had wanted to.
"Gerry died two weeks ago, while he was walking down a sidewalk, and was hit by an out of control SUV. The driver was never found, because he fled the scene as soon as Gerry was struck---"
"I know this, John!" Sarah screamed, wiping away a tear that began to stream down her face.
Hammond nodded his head. "I know, my dear. And believe me when I say I am truthfully sorry for your loss. Gerry was a good man," Hammond coughed and then lowered his voice. "Sarah, he was murdered."
Sarah just stared blankly at the old man sitting across the room from her.
"It was Larson. I am certain of it. Listen, over the past two weeks two lab technicians, Arthur Avery and John Franco, have been brutally slain in their households. And then, just five days ago, one of the members on the board of InGen was killed while he slept. My grandchildren, Alexis and Tim narrowly escaped a man trying to run them down with his SUV, when they got out of school. And then, just the other day, Ellie Degler's husband was killed, when men broke into Ellie's house, and tried to kill her."
Sarah rubbed her chin and shook her head, "You're saying; that some wack job from a mental institute is now loose and is hunting everyone that was involved with Jurassic Park."
"Yes."
"And you think Ian is in danger?"
Hammond paused, and then whispered, "Not from Larson."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Sarah, Ian is not here anymore. He's been taken with Dr. Grant and Dr. Degler to Isla Sorna," Hammond stated. "It seems our friends in the Costa Rican government have decided that they want to try and preserve the island, instead of neglect it. They wish to . . . interfere with the circle of life. You see, the Ricans know of Larson. The smart bastards figured it out before I did. And they used the threat of Larson to entice Malcolm and the others into going to Sorna."
"Why would they need to take them to Isla Sorna?" Sarah pressed.
"From what I have learned, there is a newly discovered disease on that island, that has suddenly begun thriving, killing off some of the animals. And the only sense I can make of all this, is that perhaps the Ricans want Malcolm and the others to inform them about the disease."
Sarah nodded, taking it all in. Realizing that her husband was once again in a place he had sworn to never return to. Ian was in his own hell. And she wasn't there with him. Sarah looked back up at Hammond and simply said, "What now?"
"Help me get them back. Three hours ago, I arranged for a helicopter rescue team to go to the island. It seems the Costa Rican government is being very strict with flight over their waters today. Because when the team failed to respond to the question of their destination, they were fired upon. The chopper then quickly returned home. But, as we speak, I'm organizing a team to get a boat ready for the island. It will be leaving soon. And I thought you may want to go along."
Sarah was about to reply when the door opened, and in walked the driver. Alyse stood in the doorway looking in, as the driver walked over to Hammond and handed him a cell phone. "It's them," he said.
Hammond put the phone to his ear. "Hello Mr. Scott."
Sarah could hear a gruff voice on the other line, but couldn't make out any words.
"How is it coming along?" Hammond asked. "Oh, that's good. Very good . . . Hold on, one moment." Hammond put his hand on the phone then said to Sarah, "Sarah, the boat is nearly ready to go. If you wish to join them on their operation in rescuing Ian and the others, tell me now."
Sarah quickly nodded, "Yes, I want to go."
In the door way, Alyse stood with her mouth agape.
"Yes, there will be one more joining you. She will be at the dock, momentarily," Hammond said to the man on the phone. "Good bye, Mr. Scott."
The second Hammond turned off the phone, Alyse stormed into the room. Her face was red, and she looked very distressed. She made her way over to Sarah. When she talked, she nearly screamed, "You can't be serious."
Sarah stood up from her chair, and said in a calm voice, "Ian is on the island. I need to go." Then she began to walk past her sister.
But Alyse held up her hand, and stopped Sarah from going any further. "This is insane," she said. "Ian can stick up for himself on that island."
"No, he can't. We need to go and get him."
"Then let them go get him! Why do you have to go?" Alyse screamed.
Hammond frowned then whispered for his driver to close the front door so that no curious neighbors would hear the screaming. The driver nodded and walked to the door, went through, shut it, and remained outside, giving the sisters their privacy.
"Because he's my husband," Sarah answered her sister.
Alyse shook her head. "I don't believe this. You told us that you would never go back to that island."
"I was just telling you what you wanted to hear. Besides, this is different. Ian's in trouble. I could never forgive myself if I stayed home just hoping that he'd be okay in the end. I have to go."
"Alyse, my dear," Hammond started, "I know that Sarah does not wish to worry you. If it's any assurance, it is more than likely that she won't even be on the island long. Come on, we can accompany her to the dock for her departure."
Alyse shook her head, barely even hearing Hammond's words. Then she said, "I don't want you to go."
Sarah leaned in very close to her sister, and whispered, "I don't care."
She brushed past Alyse and walked out through the front door. Alyse looked as if that last statement, had actually been a stab to her own heart. She stood absolutely still, not watching Sarah as she left the room. Now, it was only Hammond and Alyse in the room.
"Come along now. We must be going," Hammond said softly.
Alyse nodded her head slowly, and then helped bring Hammond through the front door.
In the driveway, Sarah was approaching her car. When she opened the driver's door, Hammond said, "I was actually thinking we could take my car."
Sarah looked at the limo with a frown. "Really? Why?"
Hammond looked over his shoulder at his driver standing in suit and tie behind him, then said with a rather sly smile, "Martin is quite the driver. I think we'll get there much sooner if Martin was driving."
Martin smiled and then everyone got into the limo.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The limo swerved dangerously in and out of traffic. Inside, Sarah gripped her seat so hard that she thought her fingernails may actually puncture the leather. She looked at Martin, the driver, who had a big toothy grin on his face. Then, she looked back to Alyse and Hammond.
Alyse was still looking mad and upset about the situation. But Hammond looked like he was actually enjoying himself. He must have caught her odd expression, because he said, "See? I told you Martin was a great driver."
Sarah nodded quickly, then looked back at the road, as the limo narrowly missed broad siding a minivan.
"How much longer till we get to the dock?" Sarah asked.
Hammond thought about it for a moment, then said, "Oh, I'd say about fifteen minutes."
"Ten minutes," Martin corrected him.
"When we get there," Hammond said to Sarah, "you really must be quick. The boat is probably ready to go. They're just waiting for you now."
"I understand."
Hammond looked at Alyse, seated beside him, and asked in a concerned voice, "Are you okay?"
Alyse turned her head to look at Hammond, but she did not say a word. Then she looked forward again, and continued to stare at Sarah.
Sarah took a deep breath, then looked back outside her window.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sound of the harbor filled the air. The limo raced along a two-lane street, until it finally came upon the harbor. Here, it slowed its pace, and made its way through the small parking lot. The place looked dirty and unkept.
Sarah saw a single boat in the harbor. It was not very large, but looked very strong. On the bow of the boat, a big man stood studying a map. And then on the dock around the boat, two other men worked together to carry a big wooden crate onto the boat.
"There it is," Hammond said. "If you still want to go, now is the time. After this point, there is no turning back."
Sarah didn't even reply. Relaxing her shoulders, she opened the limo door and stepped out.
Alyse hurried out of the car as well, and Martin helped Hammond out soon afterwards.
Sarah looked at the boat and the men, who were now looking in her general direction. She moved her gaze away from them, back to her sister, who stood with her arms crossed beside the limo.
Sarah turned her back to her sister and walked toward the boat. Alyse watched as she walked away.
Hammond put a gentle hand on Alyse's wrist.
"My dear, do you think it's wise to depart in an angry manner?"
"She could have done or said something different. It's not just me, Mr. Hammond."
Hammond glanced over toward Sarah, who was about half way to the dock now.
"Yes, that is true," he mentioned. "But -- I don't mean to be rash -- but what pains will you go through if this, God forbid it, is the last time you ever see your sister."
Alyse stared at Hammond, shocked to even think such a thing. She understood though.
"Sarah!" She yelled.
Sarah turned around quickly and saw her sister running toward her. They embraced.
"Sarah, be careful," Alyse said, crying, and then she added, "I love you."
"I will. And I love you, too."
Sarah and Alyse ended their hug, then with a pat on her sister's shoulder, Sarah turned away once more. She approached the boat and walked up a ramp on board.
The big man with the map walked over to her and shook her hand. The man had small wire frame glasses on, that magnified his sleepy looking eyes. "Hello, Dr. Harding," he said. "We've been waiting for you. My name is Nathan Scott. If you're ready, we'll be going now."
Sarah looked beyond Scott, back to Alyse on the dock.
Her sister smiled then nodded her head.
Sarah looked back at Scott then said, "Yeah, I'm ready."
"Good," Scott smiled softly. Then he turned away from her and began to untie ropes that held the boat to the dock.
On the dock, Alyse turned away from the boat, and walked back to Hammond and Martin. She walked like she was in a daze. When she reached Hammond, he smiled and said, "Don't worry, it will all be fine."
Alyse stared at the old man for a long moment, then slowly she nodded her head.
Behind her, the engines of the boat roared to life.
Alyse turned around to see the blue smoke pillowing out of the engines of the boat as it moved away into the open ocean. Through the smoke, Alyse could see Sarah, standing rigid, looking back at her.
Alyse sighed and then walked with Martin and Hammond back to the limo.
Comments are appreciated!
--JPJunkee and Yvonne
7/15/2003 1:25:42 AM
(Updated: 7/15/2003 1:26:58 AM)
(Updated: 7/15/2003 11:37:55 PM)
(Updated: 7/15/2003 11:41:45 PM)
(Updated: 7/16/2003 12:43:48 AM)
(Updated: 7/16/2003 12:06:14 PM)
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