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Primal Prey: Chapter 2
By Strider_Aragorn
Chapter 2
Preparations
New York City, USA, 1993
Bradley Dash, a well-respected mercenary woke suddenly to the sound of a telephone’s ring. Dash reached for his phone.
“Hello?” he asked.
“Dash, it’s Dodgson. No time for pleasantries, I need you for a plug”
“Look, Dodgson-”
“You’d be well payed”
“-I’m busy, I got two jobs tomorrow to fight in East Timor”
“How does half a million dollars sound to you?”
Dash paused. He was a respected mercenary, who had never turned down a job. He was tough, and he didn’t crack easily.
“Okay,” said Dodgson, correctly interpreting Dash’s silence. “I’ll pay you two hundred and fifty grand now, and fifty when we get back”
“You got a deal, Dodgson”
Dodgson looked at his list. Only two people remained to be manipulated. Norman was the head of a fencing company, and he would be easy. The other was John Hammond, owner of Isla Nublar. Dodgson frowned. He had a better idea. He could simply hire another two mercenaries. He racked his brain. Peter was fighting guerrilla forces in South America. Ben was killed in the Cold War. Maybe Johnn, but he was in Guatemala. And Brock. Yes, Brock was available.
Yes, Dodgson would telephone Brock, then find out Johnn’s number. Dodgson went to his phone in his office, picked up the receiver and dialled Brock’s number. A machine answered. Dodgson smiled. Brock was well paid. Dodgson left his name on the machine, and then asked his secretary to find out Johnn’s number.
When Johnn’s situation was all organised, Dodgson rubbed his chin. The stubble was beginning to lengthen on it. Maybe, he thought, his scientists could genetically modify the dinosaur genes that Dodgson had so that the dinosaurs would mature at a greater pace. He decided to check out John Wills’ progress on the clonability of the tyrannosaur DNA.
Dodgson walked out of his office to CF1. He came to Wills, who was listening to music and looking at the DNA structure of an animal.
“John,” said Dodgson, “How’s the tyrannosaur DNA coming along?”
“Fine,” replied Wills. “I’m looking at the structure now. It’s very primitive, and therefore easier to replicate than, say, chimpanzee DNA”
“That’s good, John,” replied Dodgson. “Say, can you run a test on a dozen or so others that I have?”
“Sure”
“And, ah, can you possibly find out a way to genetically modify the DNA so that the creature grows quicker?”
“You mean growth acceleration”
“Uh, yeah”
At length, Wills answered. “Well, it’s already in the testing stage at our labs. If we could get another half a dozen or so scientists working on it full-time-”
“Got it,” said Dodgson, “I’ll have eight scientists working on it by tomorrow evening”
“Great, you always seem to surprise me, Mr Dodgson. Give me the other DNA samples, I’ll have them tested in next to no time”
Dodgson left and went to the cooling canister. He looked inside. Nine of the remaining specimens’ cones were badly damaged, probably unsalvageable. He couldn’t even read the name on them. He looked at the others: Velociraptor, Mamenchiasaurus, Dilophosaurus, Metriacanthosaurus and Stegosaurus.
Dodgson pulled them out and took them to Wills. “I want the results back by tomorrow, as well as a bunch of information about the dinosaurs, okay?”
“Yep,” replied Wills, “Easy”
***
Gorm Norman was an impatient man. He didn’t like preamble. He was a short, round man of about forty, a cheesy comb-over covering his baldness. He was the head of a company, ElectriFence. His firm made customised fenced for its customers.
Today, a very odd man visited him. The man walked straight into Norman’s office, and sat down.
“Gorm,” he said, “I need six large areas ElectriFence-ified”
Norman, grateful that this man didn’t want to introduce himself or anything else that would take time, replied, “Of course. But first, define ‘large’”
The man sighed. “Each one about one hectare. And I’ll need them at least ten to fifteen metres high”
“One hectare? Each?” replied Norm, shocked. “Well then—and ten metres tall? Okay, okay, we can do it. Give us a month, and I can ship out the first one. By the way, it’ll cost you big, I’d say about, oh-”
“I’ll pay you a hundred thousand for each one, if you can get me two every month”
Norman froze. “Uh,” he said, “I think we could comply. So, um, that’s, what-”
“In three months, I’ll have six one-hectare areas fenced off, and you’ll have six hundred thousand dollars”
“Mr … ?”
“Dodgson, Lewis Dodgson, head of BioSyn Technology. My address is on my card, here”
Norman took the card and looked at it. Dodgson saw him mouth the words Area 52 and Nevada Desert.
Norman nodded. “Yes, I can do this. See you in a month, Mr Dodgson”
“Bye,” Dodgson smiled.
1/20/2003 3:02:59 AM
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