Before Jurassic World

Chapter 3

I like to people watch.  It's sorta like a pastime for me.  I can't sing and have no artistic abilities to speak of so passing judgments on others from afar was pretty much in my wheel house.  Of the 50 people on board the boat headed to Isla Nublar 10 were scientists.  Their pocket protectors and incessant need to wear a lab coat everywhere, even on the boat, just to ensure everyone within a five mile radius knew they were smarter than them, confirmed it.

Fifteen were staff for the local restaurants and shops that will litter the theme park.  Most were just out of college looking for an easy paycheck in paradise, no doubt much to their parents chagrin.  Their conversations were relegated to the shallow depths of college football and the always "epic Spring Break" conversation complete with "dude" and "wicked" repeated at every possible interval.

Twelve were paleontologists or something equally as confusing that ends in 'gists' that means I studied dinosaurs.  They were all wearing the same tan shorts that were too long to be called shorts really, and too short to be capris.  I wondered if they have a convention where they got together to sell them.  Guaranteed, if my life depended on buying a pair of shorts like that I would surely die.  The ensemble was rounded out with the stereotypical jean washed, long sleeved, button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to their elbows.  Each one had different variation of head gear from fedoras to ball caps.

The last 12 occupants on the Love Boat were InGen security.  Every last one was former military, police or a federal agent as far as I could tell.  How did I know they were InGen and not Masrani?  Well, because as far as I knew I was the only Masrani security employee.  Some looked battle tested, but most looked like they just dressed the part.  There's no one giveaway that identifies a player from a pretender, at least not for me.  If someone has seen what I've seen or lived what I've lived I can feel it.  It's a tingle on my neck or a hyper awareness on my skin when I'm in their general orbit.  You can't fake it and you can't buy it.  I'd wager less than half the Rambo's lounged on the upper deck were worth crap in a fight.  Now a danger to the recently graduated co-ed's virginity who were here on an extended summer vacay, absolutely.

The boat slowed as we docked at Isla Nublar, and I stood hefting my duffle up on my shoulder as I adjusted my sunglasses.  Costa Rica was hot and humid, but I grew up in Houston where hot and humid was practically a lifestyle.  I stayed at the back of the line patiently waiting to disembark while admiring the admittedly gorgeous view.  I may end up getting eaten by a dinosaur, but at least it would be in paradise.

With that comforting thought in mind I exited the boat casually making my way down the dock.  I was meeting with Simon and his Operations Manager before settling into my house.  I had no idea who said Operations Manager was, but considering there was a very nervous, jittery looking brunette bouncing around obviously looking for someone I figured I'd start there.

"Are you Josephine King?"  She looked slightly panicked as she looked at me.  I think her fingers were actually crossed in prayer.  I was tempted to offer her a Xanax.

"Jo, actually, and yea that's me.  Are you the Operations Manager I'm supposed to meet?  Sorry, Simon didn't tell me your name."  I reached out to shake her hand.

I would have thought it was impossible before, but she seemed even more jittery now.  "Me, oh no, I'm Zara, Ms. Dearing's personal assistant.  I'm to take you back to headquarters immediately, they're waiting for you."  She was already walking away as she finished, ignoring my outstretched hand.

"Alright, HQ it is Zara."  She didn't laugh. She didn't even turn around.  She just walked, really fast, to an awaiting golf cart.  "Nice ride."

No response, again.  I must be off my game from the jet lag.  Either that or British people really did have no sense of humor.  The ride to headquarters was short, and I swear before the tires even stopped rolling Zara was out urging me up the steps of a massive skyscraper like building. Headquarters looked pretty swanky.  Having met Simon this really wasn't a surprise.