Secrets and Lies

Mistakes

          The storm broke two days later. They were only running two and a half days behind schedule despite the storm that had flattened all within their group but Christine, James, Joshua, and Vincenzo. A small reward that John was grateful for, even if he failed to show it. Though no words of thanks were given to Christine, Joshua, and Vincenzo for keeping things together, they were granted rest; a brush-off that didn't go unnoticed by anyone with half a brain. Still, the three were ready for some actual rest and sleep while the rest of the crew picked up the slack.

    Andrew and Montgomery oversaw Christine's duties with the assistance of James and San while Helga, alongside the two interns, took over Vincenzo's cooking. Or at least they did when the Italian chef would allow. Joshua had entrusted the care of his med bay to Beatrice Packard, who had experience as a nurse seeing as that had been her desired profession before the Cold War had pulled her into the world of codebreaking. Dennis Nedry had been livid to not be allowed the 'easy work', though that seemed to do more with his lazy attitude than anything. Mason had been asked if she'd be willing to pitch in in the med bay given her comfort around chemicals.

    "You think Christine will rest," Mason had asked James as they'd sat down to lunch after receiving their assignments.

    James had sighed, unsure. The fact she didn't feel safe here with Rourke and his mercenaries made him think that she'd likely just hide away working on lord knew what.

    "She'll take the odd nap and then be up and about acting like nothing happened," Andrew sighed; "It's how she works. Doctor Shannon is infuriating that way."

    "Nice to know some things never change," James smirked, thinking back to the before. His eyes fell to the notebook Andrew had sat beside his left forearm; Christine's notebook. "What's in there," he asked nodding toward the journal.

    Andrew slid it back out of sight, placing it into the side pocket of his cargo pants. "Plans, procedures, passcodes; all that boring work-related nonsense."

    "I heard it's more than that," Dennis muttered, stabbing his pasta. "Heard it has a bunch of far more sensitive information tucked away inside."

    "Well, you heard wrong," Andrew snapped back flatly. Ned just smiled.

    "Prove it," the communications intern sneered; "Pass it around, and let us take a look for ourselves."

    Andrew glared, Montgomery gently putting a hand on his friend's arm. As the zoologist moved to talk, Beatrice stopped him; her index finger raised as she leaned toward her intern. "Dennis, what have I told you about that overinflated ego of yours?"

    "Nothing about me is overinflated!"

    "Your girth is," Milo popped off from the table behind them. A few chuckles were heard, but most just tried to ignore the whiney twenty-seven-year-old as he decided to start listing his credentials that supposedly made him not only a self-appointed genius but a gifted coder and debugger. If the young man had been as big as the fly he sounded like, Andrew would have squashed him.

    Sensing Andrew's disdain for the young man, James decided to switch the topic to something that was now troubling. "What sort of plans; for the island?"

    The botanist's eyes narrowed for a moment as his dark eyes focused solely on the tracker's pale blue ones. He ran his tongue over his teeth beneath his lips before sitting forward and pulling the notebook out once more. He thumbed through a few pages as Montgomery looked on with a touch of concern before he set the book down between them, keeping his hand nearby. A wise decision as Dennis immediately craned his neck to look as best as he could, looking ever the little rat Helga had claimed him to be. "Doctor Shannon, as I'm sure you know, is a cautious woman. Everything in here will be shared with the rest of you in a day or so when she's gotten rest; the maps of the bit we were able to scout, the flora and fauna, animals we bumped into to be aware of, everything. Just need to be patient."

    This was not an answer Dennis seemed happy with, yet he didn't say a word. He simply got up, dumped his tray into the wash bin, and headed off back toward the berths.

    "Little weasel is probably going to go speak with Hammond again," Beatrice sighed as she leaned back and lit a cigarette. "Starting to regret bringing him along."

    "I feel the same way about Audrey," Helga sighed, rubbing her temples as Vincenzo moved toward her and offered to rub her shoulders in Italian. She shook her head at him but gave his hand a squeeze. Something about the way they interacted gave James hope. Or it did until Helga's hazel eyes turned to him. "Speaking of my flighty charge, you haven't seen her lately, have you?"

    "Not since Saturday."

    "She fell ill Saturday evening," Helga muttered, sitting back. "She was the first to recover though, and I've seen little of her since. You gents wouldn't happen to know where my pupil is, would you," she called over toward the table of soldiers.

    A short, heavier-set soldier with a bushy head of auburn hair and a beard to match smirked. "Yeah. We've seen her; haven't we boys?"

    An average-sized, lanky man with piercing green eyes and sandy blonde hair nodded. "The squeak toy? Yeah, we've seen her off and on since we left port; right Wolfe?"

    "Yeah. Pretty little thing; bit loose for my liking, but she does make good little noises."

    Several looks were exchanged between those sitting at the table with Helga. This did not bode well. "Where's the girl, gents?"

    "Think the commander's having his turn at her now that he's up and at it again."

    "You had best be joking," Helga warned.

    "You're the dumb bitch that brought the little whore aboard," Wolfe muttered; "What'd you think she'd be good for if not this?"

    "She's my student,' Helga snarled as Montgomery put a calming hand on her shoulder, one she promptly brushed off as she rose to lean toward the now laughing soldiers.

    "And? One of your own took far more swings at her than any of us have." James rose, only for Andrew's arm to stop him. The men exchanged glances yet said nothing. "That's right, tracker; we know all about your extracurriculars. Nice of you to warm her up for us though."

    James shoved Andrew aside, knocking several drinks over the two men bumped the table. Helga moved to dive toward the soldiers as well when a feminine voice rang out demanding they all knock it off. All eyes turned to find an exhausted-looking Christine standing beside an equally tired Joshua Sweetwater, his long dark hair braided down his back. Behind them came Frank Rourke, John Hammond, and a much less green-looking Henry Wu. As Christine stepped forward and began chastising her crew, Rourke, surprisingly, did the same; ordering his mercenaries back to their bunks to await further instructions.

    "Can you all not show the least bit of decorum," John snapped, smacking his walking stick down on the floor bitterly. "Is this the type of leadership I should continue to respect from you, Christine; I thought you said these were people of science, not a band of mercenaries as you accused Frank's men of being. I did not see them preparing for a bout of fist-to-cuffs."

    "You cannot be blaming Christine for this," Helga scoffed, unable to hide her bewilderment. "She arrived just as you did, she-"

    "She should command greater respect from all of you," John fired back; "She should be making all of you fear her reprisals should you act out of line as you nearly did. And if she cannot command such from you, then I shall have no choice but to elect someone who does."

    A barrage of voices lifted in protest but John would hear no more of it. He waved Wu to follow as they moved toward the food set out to make their plates, leaving Christine to sigh; her eyes apologetic as she glanced at them all.

    "As you can see, he's in a foul disposition."

    "The delays?"

    "The delays and a new, unsettling development," she sighed leaning her head into her hands to massage her temples. "Helga, Audrey is in the sick bay; I would advise you to go and visit with her. Bea, if you would be so kind to go and meet with Singh regarding communications for when we reach the islands so we have things in order; we will only have a day to resupply instead of three, so I want to be sure we have everything in order so John cannot push Henry into my position. As for the rest of you, usual duties." She made a flutter motion with her hand to suggest they all toddle off, only to reach out to grab James' wrist. "Not you."

    Surprised by her brashness, James took a seat beside her once more; noting the way Alan a few tables away watched him like a hawk despite Andrew, Montgomery, and Joshua having remained as well. A small smirk tugged at his lips; he enjoyed getting under the paleontologist's skin. What he didn't enjoy though was the way Christine looked.

    "Ma'am, you need to go and rest," Andrew said gently, his hand soothingly rubbing her back.

    "I am fine," Christine said with a sigh, sitting up once more and running a hand down her pale face. She took a few deep breaths, looking green despite the waters being calm. Something else was wrong.

    "Chris," Joshua started only for her to hold up her hand as if simultaneously asking him to stop while daring him to say another word.

    Slowly, she tilted her head toward James. "You... You need to visit the sick bay as well, Joshua will escort you there and explain everything. When you are finished you are to return to your bunk under... quarantine."

    "Quarantine?"

    "It's a precaution," Joshua explained; "A bit of an overzealous one, in my opinion, but both Christine and I were overruled by Rourke acting under authority of Hammond."

    "Rourke overruled you?"

    "Ma'am, is- did he-"

    "I don't wish to talk about it, Andrew," Christine muttered dismissively. She rose, her feet unsteady. Gripping the table, she sat down once more trying to maintain a façade that nothing was wrong. "You have your assignments. I am going to return to my bunk and try to rest... Do me a favor, no one need me for at least twenty-four hours."

    As she rose to leave once more, she winced, her knee buckling as Andrew and James caught her. "Ma'am, please, let me take you to the sick bay as well."

    "No."

    "Christine, stop it," James hissed. "You need help, let me-"

    "I said no!"

    Before James could say another word or make another move, another arm slithered between those supporting the environmental scientist. Alan Grant looked woefully at his girlfriend, pulling her close to support her weight as her eyes widened with suspicion. "We should respect her wishes. I'll get her back to her room; you all go about your business now."

    The four men watched as Alan managed to get Christine to go with him, each one displeased for a different reason.

    "I do not trust him," Montgomery muttered, his hands tightening on his cane.

    "I don't either, except when it comes to Chris," Joshua sighed. "He wouldn't hurt her, no matter how pissed off he is."

    "Are we sure of that," James asked, a tinge of anxiety threaded through his query. No one had an answer though.