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Primal Prey: Chapter 3
By Strider_Aragorn
Chapter 3
Hammond’s concern
John Hammond’s office, Chicago, September 1993
John “Jack” Long stood in Hammond’s office in Chicago. He looked at the frail old man before him. Hammond’s hair was a snow-white colour, and his pale skin was freckled slightly. His benign features looked at Long through bespectacled eyes.
“You’re the best palaeontologist on the field, aside from one or two, Jack,” said Hammond. “I need you to help my team negotiate some, uh, rough terrain”
Long hesitated. “Mr Hammond, what do you mean by ‘rough terrain’?”
“Let’s just say, I once made a mistake, a mistake fatal to five people. To prepare you for the trip ahead, I’ve had one of my people, a pretty little thing from California, prepare a bit of a—a brochure about the island”
Jack, again, hesitated.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got some men,” Hammond said, coughing and reaching for three documents, “To protect you when you’re there. Let’s see, yes,” he thumbed the first document, “We have the G-Group, three commandoes specialising in animal combat, isn’t that funny? The CIA has a group for animal control”. Hammond laughed and picked up a second document, then the third, and handed all three to Jack.
“Kevin Hawke, Robert Thorne, and Gary Eye …”
“Yes, yes, all trained in combat of course. Um, yes your fee. I’d be happy to, to pay you, uh, twenty thousand dollars”
“Mr Hammond, I-”
“As you can see, I really want to protect the world from itself-”
“I don’t think I could-”
“Fifty”
Jack changed the current shape of his mouth to a smile. “I’d be glad to, Mr Hammond”
Louise Jonston sat at her desk waiting. She had no idea what she was waiting for; she was simply waiting. She drummed her pen onto her desk and yawned.
Just then, a man of about twenty-five came through the door from Hammond’s office. He had dark hair, blue eyes and stood tall and proud. Louise sat up.
“Can I help you?” she asked in a cheerful voice.
“I hope so,” smiled the man. “I’m Jack”
“Louise”
“Mr Hammond told me to collect some documents from you?”
“Of course, hold on just a minute”. Louise reached down and forward and picked up a bunch of papers from a shelf under her desk. “Here you go, Jack”
“Thankyou Louise,” smiled Jack. He exited the building, shielding his eyes from the sunlight outside. Louise sighed and relaxed, having finally found something interesting to think about.
Bradley Dash stood waiting at his Bell 206 Jet Ranger. He was a skilled pilot, and as he gazed out through his reflective sunglasses, he looked to check the fuel metre once more. He checked his watch. Dodgson was late. Dash shifted his backpack, which contained food for a week.
Then three figures emerged from the reception centre of the private airport. Dash recognised one as Dodgson, but the other two he didn’t know; one was about thirty, with dark hair and a well-kept beard and sunglasses. The other was also wearing sunglasses but had lighter hair. Both were heavyset and carrying long bags like the one Dash had in his chopper. Dodgson was carrying a backpack, and was wearing black. The other two, like Dash, were wearing grey, white and black camouflage uniforms with black leather vests, belts, and boots.
“Morning Dash,” Dodgson extended his hand in greeting.
“Hey, Dodgson,” replied Dash.
“This is Brock,” said Dodgson, gesturing to the bearded mercenary. Dash and Brock exchanged nods.
“This is Johnn,” said Dodgson, gesturing to the other man, who, upon closer inspection, looked slightly less heavyset than Brock.
“G’day, Dash,” greeted Johnn in a distinctly Australian accent as he smiled.
Dash nodded curtly. “Everyone, put your bags in the back of the chopper, we’re taking off in …,” he consulted his watch: 9:06 “… four minutes. Let’s go”
Jack Long was introduced to Hawke, Thorne and Eye. Hawke was a tall, muscly man with thick dark hair and a goatee. Thorne was a short, stocky man with intelligent eyes. Eye was a man taller than the others, and more thickly set. They were all dressed in black uniforms with knives, grenades and pistols situated on packs over their bodies.
Thorne seemed to be the pilot, as he ushered all the men into the helicopter, and sat at the controls. Soon they took off, and Jack looked for the last time at an inhabited city. The ‘brochure’ he had received told him of dangerous animals living on the island they were going to, and abandoned buildings. The mission of the small group was less than obvious.
Apparently, Hammond had wanted some men—the commandoes—to stop another expedition, and they wanted Jack to be their guide. Jack had no idea why. He looked again to the other men. Jack looked at his watch. It was half past noon. The trip would take four hours, he was told by Thorne.
He sighed, and shut his eyes. He soon drifted off to sleep.
1/22/2003 12:01:50 AM
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