“Andre, wake up.”
Andre Weller felt the gentle touch of George as his friend shook him from where he sat on a bench on the long hall. Men in business suits walking down the carpeted halls in different directions while chatting to their assistants. The smell of coffee and freshly baked muffins made it through to his brain as if the walls had been ripped off by a hurricane. It smelled so good that it almost seemed too delicious for breakfast, but Andre knew better.
He had only slept for three hours since yesterday morning. And he was still exhausted. He didn’t know how much time it had actually been - maybe half an hour - until it was time to get ready for another day of working. But that was until his acquaintance, Lewis Dodgson, had called him to invite him over for a ‘meeting’ with the directors. A meeting that meant something big and very serious for the Biosyn Corporation. Something that Lewis called ‘Target Of Opportunity.’ So there they were. On an unassuming bench near the entrance to the meeting room. If Andre had to guess, all the directors were already inside.
Andre rubbed his eyes, letting out an involuntary groan. George chuckled at the response. It wasn't exactly a pleasant sound coming from a man who had only woken up two hours ago. “You look like shit.”
Andre tried to ignore the comment as best as possible. It was true. He hadn’t showered properly in days. The last time he had showered was when his showerhead broke during construction in Chicago three months ago.
He had spent six hours in the bathroom trying to fix it. After that, his body had never seen clean water again. That night, after cleaning up the broken showerhead and replacing it with new one, he found an old bar towel that he used to wrap around his waist to keep the water off of the rest of his body. Then, he fell asleep on his couch and woke up the next day feeling horrible because he couldn’t remember what he had done. He hadn’t eaten anything except water for almost four days now. And he just wanted to crawl back into bed and sleep even longer than he already did. He would have gladly fallen back asleep right then if he could, though.
George put an arm around Andre’s shoulders as he began walking towards the door of the meeting room.
“Is it time?” Andre asked, yawning.
George nodded as they walked. “Yup, he’s waiting for us inside.”
Walking up to their side, Howard King added, “Yeah, Lewis told us and I quote, ‘Get Andre. He wouldn’t want to miss this.’ Which is kind of ironic considering you didn’t want to be here in the first place.”
George laughed loudly at that and Andre joined in. Even Howard joined them for a few seconds.
The three men entered the room taking in its grandeur. Ten directors sat in the conference room were irritable and impatient. Andre checked his watch. It was 8:00 p.m. They had been talking among themselves for the last ten minutes, but slowly had fallen silent. Shuffling papers. Looking pointedly at their watches.
“What are we waiting for?” One director asked.
“One more,” Lewis Dodgson responded. “We need one more.”
Lewis glanced at his watch. Andre pressed his back against the wall, arms crossed. Andre remembered that Ron Meyer’s office had said he was coming up on the six o’clock plane from San Diego. Andre frowned at this. He should be here by now, even allowing for traffic from the airport.
“You need a quorum?” another director asked.
“Yes,” Dodgson said. “We do.”
That shut them up for a moment. A quorum meant that they were going to be asked to make an important decision. And God knows they were, although Dodgson would have preferred not to call a meeting at all. But Steingarten, the head of Biosyn, was adamant. “You’ll have to get their agreement for this one, Lew,” he had said.
For as long as Andre had known him, Lewis Dodgson was famous as the most aggressive geneticist of his generation, or the most reckless. Thirty-four, balding, hawk-faced, and intense, he had been dismissed by Johns Hopkins as a graduate student, for planning gene therapy on human patients without obtaining the proper FDA protocols. Hired by Biosyn, he had conducted the controversial rabies vaccine test in Chile. Now he was the head of product development at Biosyn, which supposedly consisted of "reverse engineering" taking a competitor’s product, tearing it apart, learning how it worked, and then making your own version. In practice, it involved industrial espionage, much of it directed toward the InGen corporation.
To this day Andre still doesn’t remember how him and Dodgson became acquainted. Maybe it was in college. Or, perhaps, they bumped into each other while on one of their many research trips. Either way, they instantly bonded over their shared fascination with science. By the end of their internship together, they were working together and were inseparable. At least until they met in their final year, where Dodgson left. For reasons Andre still doesn’t understand. He never really understood why. But the two of them haven’t kept in contact since.
It was then that when they met again, Andre realized that Dodgson had changed. He was short-tempered and frequently swore. Andre glanced at the carpet floor. He didn’t voice his opinions. But he believed Dodgson had grown, just as folks have spoke of him to be, reckless. Reckless enough to get himself in trouble, or worse. Andre also knew that he was only Dodgson’s partner because he was the only person to create valuable tech and hardware with his abilities. His inventions came about due to dedicated, honest dedication to the company. The CEO was something Andre strived for in his work but he never managed to achieve. And it was probably just his pride. No one wants to admit to a failure of their own. Especially when there's no proof of such thing.
But despite all of that, they always stuck together, no matter what happened. They weren’t friends. Just colleagues, both working with the same goal: to help build the world’s finest, most advanced, fastest and strongest bioengineering program. A program that could change everything. It was a project of utmost importance, so they never talked about money. Money had to come before everything else. There was no debate.
The door opened and Ron Meyer entered the room, slipped into a seat. Dodgson now had his quorum. He immediately stood.
“Gentlemen,” Dodgson announced as everyone stopped what they were doing. “We’re here tonight to consider a target of opportunity: InGen.”
Dodgson quickly reviewed the background. InGen’s start-up in 1983, with Japanese investors. The purchase of three Cray XMP supercomputers. The purchase of Isla Nublar in Costa Rica. The stockpiling of amber. The unusual donations to zoos around the world, from the New York Zoological Society to the Ranthapur Wildlife Park in India.
“Despite all these clues,” Dodgson continued, “we still had no idea where InGen might be going. The company seemed obviously focused on animals; and they had hired researchers with an interest in the past—paleobiologists, DNA phylogeneticists, and so on. Then, in 1987, InGen bought an obscure company called Milli-pore Plastic Products in Nashville, Tennessee. This was an agribusiness company that had recently patented a new plastic with the characteristics of an avian eggshell. This plastic could be shaped into an egg and used to grow chick embryos. Starting the following year, InGen took the entire output of this millipore plastic for its own use.”
“Dr. Dodgson, this is all very interesting—”
“At the same time,” Dodgson continued, “construction was begun on Isla Nublar. This involved massive earthworks, including a shallow lake two miles long, in the center of the island. Plans for resort faculties were let out with a high degree of confidentiality, but it appears that InGen has built a private zoo of large dimensions on the island.”
Andre shook his head in amusement at Dodgson’s interruption. There he goes again, he thought. Cutting people off when they speak.
One of the directors leaned forward and said, “Dr. Dodgson. So what?”
“It’s not an ordinary zoo,” Dodgson said. “This zoo is unique in the world. It seems that InGen has done something quite extraordinary. They have managed to clone extinct animals from the past.”
“What animals?”
“Animals that hatch from eggs, and that require a lot of room in a zoo.”
“What animals?”
“Dinosaurs,” Dodgson said. “They are cloning dinosaurs.”
The consternation that followed was entirely misplaced, in Andre’s view.
Andre raised a brow at Dodgson. Did he hear that right? Dinosaurs? That couldn’t be true, it couldn’t possibly be. There must have been a mix up. Right?
“What they have done,” Dodgson said, “is build the greatest single tourist attraction in the history of the world. As you know, zoos are extremely popular. Last year, more Americans visited zoos than all professional baseball and football games combined. And the Japanese love zoos—there are fifty zoos in Japan, and more being built. And for this zoo, InGen can charge whatever they want. Two thousand dollars a day, ten thousand dollars a day … And then there is the merchandising. The picture books, T-shirts, video games, caps, stuffed toys, comic books, and pets.”
“Pets?”
“Of course. If InGen can make full-size dinosaurs, they can also make pygmy dinosaurs as household pets. What child won’t want a little dinosaur as a pet? A little patented animal for their very own. InGen will sell millions of them. And InGen will engineer them so that these pet dinosaurs can only eat InGen pet food.…”
“Jesus,” somebody said.
“Exactly,” Dodgson said. “The zoo is the centerpiece of an enormous enterprise.”
“You said these dinosaurs will be patented?” One of the directors inquired.
“Yes,” Dodgson replied. “Genetically engineered animals can now be patented. The Supreme Court ruled on that in favor of Harvard in 1987. InGen will own its dinosaurs, and no one else can legally make them.”
“What prevents us from creating our own dinosaurs?” some-one said.
“Nothing, except that they have a five-year start. It’ll be almost impossible to catch up before the end of the century.”
He paused. “Of course, if we could obtain examples of their dinosaurs, we could reverse engineer them and make our own, with enough modifications in the DNA to evade their patents.”
“Can we obtain examples of their dinosaurs?”
Dodgson paused. “I believe we can, yes.”
Somebody cleared his throat. “There wouldn’t be anything illegal about it.…”
“Oh no,” Dodgson said quickly. “Nothing illegal. I’m talking about a legitimate source of their DNA. A disgruntled employee, or some trash improperly disposed of, something like that.”
“Do you have a legitimate source, Dr. Dodgson?”
“I do,” Dodgson said. “But I’m afraid there is some urgency to the decision, because InGen is experiencing a small crisis, and my source will have to act within the next twenty-four hours.”
A long silence descended over the room. The men looked at the secretary, taking notes, and the tape recorder on the table in front of her.
“I don’t see the need for a formal resolution on this,” Dodgson said. “Just a sense of the room, as to whether you feel I should proceed.…”
Slowly the heads nodded. Nobody spoke. Nobody went on record. They just nodded silently.
“Thank you for coming, gentlemen,” Dodgson said. “I’ll take it from here.”
Andre followed Dodgson on the way out, with Howard and George close behind.
Andre walked by Dodgson’s side. Staring at him with a brow arched, he asked, “Please tell me that talk about cloning dinosaurs was a joke?”
Dodgson smirked a bit. “Do you see me laughing?”
“No, no, of course not. But why would they clone extinct animals? Don’t you think bizarre stuff like that could only spell chaos?”
Dodgson shrugged. “It’s hard for us to explain the science and logistics behind this technology. However, from the research I found, it’s obvious that InGen has successfully adapted to modern science and applied some innovative techniques that may prove effective in adapting existing technologies into new forms for Biosyn.”
“If you say so,” Andre conceded, shaking his head, trying to comprehend what was happening. “Color me paranoid but I still think it’s a bad idea to bring back dinosaurs. I mean, they had their time in this world. As far as I am concerned, the only thing InGen would be bringing is potential chaos that they deluded themselves by reassuring illusion to have control over.”
“I understand your concerns, Andre,” Dodgson said. “I don’t share them. But even if InGen falls through their failure, I can assure you that once we have their possessions, Biosyn will not fall to the same fate they did.”
Andre sighed. “I hope you’re right Dodgson…I really hope you’re right.”
Many mysteries can always leave an unsolved mystery in the air. They float there with the smoke of the dying fire, or they're caught on the tip of a cigarette, or even just a whisper. And when the fire finally dies down and all that remains are ash and soot, the questions will remain unanswered. But no matter how many ashes or shadows the flames leave behind, the answer is still there, waiting to be discovered. It isn't always obvious at first glance, but eventually you'll spot it. Just like a puzzle that's been hidden for years.
A puzzle that never seems to have a solution to its puzzles, but only an ever growing pile of them. Like a forest slowly dying from drought, and a mountain slowly becoming eroded by time. It takes time to find what's missing. Time and patience. Sometimes you won’t find it till it’s almost too late, but even then it’ll make its way into your mind. The missing piece will fill in the last few gaps as you look back over old photographs. Or maybe it won’t even be the missing piece. Maybe it’s something that’s already become clear without your knowledge or input. That was probably the case with the mysterious death of Jeannie Mills.
On 26 of February, 1980. Jeannie Mills was a female early defector from the Peoples Temple along with her husband and teenage daughter, who were all murdered in front of their Berkeley, California home. To this day the murder is still unsolved.
In Philadelphia a mob boss named Angelo Bruno, was killed by a shotgun blast to the back of his head as he sat in his car in front of his house on 21 March 1980. One of Bruno's underlings, named Antonio Caponigro, was believed to have ordered the killing over a drug dispute; since the murder had not been sanctioned by the Commission. Caponigro himself was reputedly killed on its orders within a month. However, no suspects have ever been identified as having actually shot Bruno.
On March 24th, 1980. Óscar Romero, the fourth Roman Catholic Archbishop of San Salvador, El Salvador, was killed by a shot to the heart, while celebrating Mass at a small chapel located in a hospital. It is believed, but was never proven that the assassins were members of Salvadoran death squads. A bomb exploded in Plaza Barrios fronting San Salvador Cathedral during a funeral, and shots were fired. Many people were killed during the subsequent mass panic.
in Anaheim, California on 28 of May 1980. A woman named Dorothy Jane Scott, disappeared after heading to pick up a colleague who had been discharged from the hospital following treatment for a spider bite. Her car was found burnt out in an alleyway ten miles and sixteen kilometers from the hospital the following morning, and her decomposed remains were discovered in August 1984. Her murderer and cause of death remain unknown, but police believe an unidentified male who stalked Scott with harassing phone calls prior to her disappearance and subsequent murder is the likely suspect.
Many more cases have been reported over the years where multiple murders have taken place over seemingly inconsequential circumstances. But they all had one thing in common: no clues, no clues to lead the police anywhere, just a vast ocean of unsolved disappearances, deaths, murders and unanswered questions. And as far as they could tell, those mysteries might never end. It seemed like they would never find out what happened to the dead, the killers. No trace.
But even so it would leave some people curious. Curious about the unsolved. Curious to the extent they wouldn't give up until they did uncover the truth. Until they figured out what really happened.
And Bobbie Carter was one of those curious souls. She couldn’t stop thinking about it. Even now, when she closed her eyes, the memory of the young man’s body was burned into her eyelids. And not just the body but the name he'd given her too, right before he breathed his last breath.
“Raptor…”
Bobbie couldn’t wrap her head around the name. Based on what she read in the English dictionary, she assumed raptor was an animal of some kind. Something that flies in the air. Maybe an eagle. And she didn’t believe eagles lived in Costa Rica. There wasn’t any evidence to support that theory either, other than the fact that he’d uttered that word. Which didn’t add much weight at all.
She is familiar with one eagle that lived in Canada and Alaska. The Bald Eagle. Bald eagles have been known to attack humans. During mating seasons, bald eagles become much more territorial. As with any other bird of prey, it was best for any traveler to keep a safe distance from a bald eagle and to respect the bird’s space. One issue that didn’t add up with Bobbie’s theory was the fact that the Bald Eagle is native to North America. And the injuries inflicted from said Eagle are hardly lethal. So there’s no way that a Bald Eagle would travel a-hundred and twenty miles to Costa Rica and suddenly just attack a construction worker.
Bobbie hummed and clasped her hands together. It couldn’t have been an Eagle—that Bobbie knew for certain. Not with the kind of violence that was inflicted on the kid. The thought lingered in her mind, gnawing at the edges of it like a worm chewing through wood.
But if it wasn’t an Eagle, she reasoned, why would he utter ‘Raptor’? And what kind of animal could inflict those fatal wounds? It wasn’t anything small. If anything, the wounds seemed to be deep and jagged, unlike any injury that Bobbie had seen before. She remembered the big tearing laceration that ran from his shoulder down his torso, the flesh was shredded at the edge of the wound, his shoulder dislocated at the center and pale bones exposed. The second slash that cut through the heavy muscles of the thigh, deep enough to reveal the pulse of the femoral artery below.
Even the strange rotten stench, a smell of death and decay. One she had never smelled before. The memory of the foul odor made her retch slightly as the image flashed across her mind. That kid was mauled by something and it couldn’t have been a Bengel tiger. The wounds looked like a tiger attack, yes, but even so the strange stench couldn’t possibly come from that particular beast.
“Raptor…Lo sa raptor…”
Bobbie frowned as those words repeated themselves again and again inside her head like a mantra. Raptor... raptor... raptor....She shook her head, trying to piece the odd phrase together in a meaningful pattern. She was sure he was trying to tell her something, but what exactly, she couldn’t even guess. His words were garbled like a drunkard’s ramblings.
Raptor… raptor… raptor…
Bobbie opened up the dictionary book, flipping through pages, her eyes jumping from page to page looking for something, anything that might help her figure this out. She searched for less than five minutes until she stopped at the V section. She stared at her fingers moving rapidly across the words, as if she was searching for something specific.
Then she saw it.
Right there below the word ‘Velocimeter’.
Velociraptor…Velociraptor...Velociraptor…
A chill went up Bobbie’s spine. Was that what he’d tried to tell her, she wondered. Had he meant Velociraptor. She swallowed hard. The name itself sounded vaguely familiar. Bobbie closed the book, stood up and started out of the room. The night air kissed her skin, causing goosebumps to appear on her arms. She turned her gaze to her left, staring at the darkness of the horizon, as stars twinkled above.
Due to it being a-hundred and twenty miles away, Bobbie couldn’t see the island. But she knew it was there. The word ‘Velociraptor,’ repeated in her head like a prayer. Bobbie’s curiosity grew exponentially as she finally made a decision. She doesn’t know what’s going on, but she didn’t like it. And going on that island will give her the answers she needs.
Stars glittered brightly across the sky like thousands of tiny diamonds, some so clear they were nearly visible, others obscured and shrouded in a thick veil of clouds. The moon was full, bright and silver, its light illuminating the island of Isla Nublar as it was set to be the site for the new attraction.
Trees swayed back and forth, creaking with the wind that blew from every direction. An occasional breeze would blow through, ruffling the leaves on the trees’ branches, then it would go still once more, leaving only a few scattered twigs to remind them where the sound came from.
Jophery Brown watched the crane bring forth a large metal container, which drove forward bulldozing through the trees. An impressive-looking paddock enters into view. Shouts of orders sounded in the air as the metal container came forward.
“Everybody, heads up! Heads up! Keep it clear! Stand back! Bring it forward. Come on! Slow it down!” One worker shouted as the steel box was lowered onto the hard ground, close to the enclosure.
“Ándale! Si! Cuidado! A ver, tráiganla, tráiganla! Vamos con la segunda!” Another worker called out in spanish.”
“Confirmada la segunda!” A third worker responded as Jophery watched the crew move around in their respective positions, checking the paddock gate for any sign of trouble.
“Vamanos,” another worker shouted.
A deep purr rumbled in the steel box, the sound filling the empty paddock, as everyone worked to ensure everything was in place. Finally, everything was in check.
Robert Muldoon turned his waist to the side, staring at the three workers standing behind him. “Okay, pushing team move in there.” He called, pointing at the paddock.
The workers shouted orders in Spanish, whilst the loading team approached the cage.
Robert added, “I want tasers on full charge!”
Loading team grabbed the cage, a high terrifying shriek frightens them away, and the cage shakes for a bit.
“Go on. Step back in.” Robert instructed. “And push!”
The workers push the cage into the paddock entrance, until an electronic beep buzzes.
Robert nodded in approval to their work, then called, “We're locked. Loading team, step away. Gatekeeper.”
Jophery didn’t know why but when he started his climb up the cage, he felt a chill run through him as he heard a deep snarl from within said cage. Inside the box…the creature was watching. Jophery could feel it.
Robert lifted his head up. “Jophery, raise the gate!”
Jophery inhaled sharply before doing so. He calmed himself with thoughts of his wife and kids. The smile of his daughter and the warmth of the home in front of him. He smiled, feeling calmness rush through him. It felt like a long time since he was able to breathe easily. The giggles of his son played on repeat in his ear and filled him with a sense of security. The sound of his wife laughing, the smell of her perfume, and his children’s laughter brought him happiness.
He felt happy at that moment. Happy to go back to them once this was—
Jophery was ripped away from his thoughts when a sudden shriek pierced the air. The metal container abruptly shoved backwards causing Jophery to lose balance and fall hard face first onto the ground. The air from his lungs escaped through his lips as his head cracked against the gravel below. His ears rang, while pain shot through his body, causing a groan of dismay to escape his throat. He would’ve had time to get up had his feet not been wrenched and forcefully dragged from said ground.
Robert immediately runs to Jophery’s aid. “Block the opening! Don't let her get out!” He shouted. The workers followed his order as they held their spear-like tasers and aimed towards the metal gate.
Jophery screamed, his eyes blazing. Right hand reaches for a curved thin bar for dear life but then a sudden force pulls him violently closer into the cage. Tasers continued to discharge through the bars of the cage. Each shot hit the creature’s skin, causing sparks to fly. But to everyone including Robert Muldoon’s amazement, it wasn’t affected at all. The creature shrieked horrifically, it was almost deafening, its shriek reverberating off the walls of the cage.
Robert gritted his teeth. Trying desperately with all his might to pry Jophery free from the brute grasp of the creature’s grip. But to no avail.
“Somebody help him!” One of the workers shouted, trying vainly to hold back the creature.
“Work her back!” Robert yelled to another worker who stepped forward and pressed the end of his baton against the back of the creature’s neck through the bars. The workers continued tasering the creature, which in that moment looks Muldoon in the eye.
The two stared into each other’s eyes. The creature’s reptilian eyes stared deep into Muldoons—eyes that glowed a bright green. The creature snarled in protest, releasing some guttural growls as it did so. It refused to let its prey go. One last pull to ensure it claimed its prey. Muldoon’s arms strained to keep a tight hold around Jophery’s waist. Jophery groans in pain as the creature slowly pulls him closer.
“Shoot her!” Robert cried.
His grip around Jophery’s arm was slipping.
“Shoot her!” He shouted, desperation ringing loud and clear in his voice.
Gunfire erupted in the air. But it didn’t matter. Jophery found himself yanked away from Robert, his eyes meeting the creature’s own.
“No!” Robert yelled as the creature opened its jaws wide, revealing a set of serrated teeth.
It shot forth like a bullet, snatching Jophery’s throat in its jaws, cutting off his air supply. As he tried to scream, he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t even think. The animal shook him violently side-to-side ripping his flesh from his neck apart like tissue paper. Hot blood ran down his torso and the creature let go of him. Jophery screamed and a fiery pain flared throughout his body as talons sliced across his stomach.
The animal growled indifferently while Jophery shrieked. Pounding his fist against its snout, attempting to dislodge it with all his strength. But the creature wouldn’t budge, instead keeping Jophery pinned to the ground, its weight crushing him further in its massive form.
Jophery’s hands clawed at the ground as blood poured out between his fingers. As though the world was becoming distant, he can barely hear Robert or the workers shouting his name. In Jophery’s last fleeting moment of consciousness he watched the creature bury its snout into his abdomen and tug out coils of intestine. His vision blurred and dark spots danced in front of his eyes as the animal started to eat him. The horrendous death rattle was the last thing he felt before life fled from his body.