In Costa Rica and the vicinity, there have been strange occurrences - disappearing pets, unexplained murders, unidentified animal sightings. Some thought a killer was on the loose, others that aliens were responsible. But many suspected that other events were at play - that InGen's monumental creations were no longer confined to Isla Sorna, or even Isla Nublar if one believed the rumours of chupacabras on the island could be explained by Troodon. But no concrete evidence existed, and of course InGen and the Costa Rican government did their best to discredit the rumours and explain them away as superstition, calling the deaths jaguar attacks caused by humans and the big cats getting too close to each other for comfort. Meanwhile, InGen employees and mercenaries scrambled to find out what had gone wrong and put an end to it before Costa Rica's precious environment was ruined and InGen's international reputation was shattered.


July 19, 2001, Ismaloya Mountains, Costa Rica

Diego knew that his goats were disappearing. You didn't need to be an educated hombre de ciudad to know that if you had five goats yesterday and there are four the next morning, you have a problema on your hands. And he used to have nine goats, so four was definitely bad. He'd checked the fence for holes four times and tried to stay up at night to see what was happening. All he'd caught were bleeting screams, a flash and a blur and the goat would be gone. He didn't believe it was a jaguar like the investigador from the big city had said. He'd shot jaguars before, and they sure as infierno weren't that sneaky. And a jaguar couldn't climb over the three medidor barbed wire fence encircling his land. Nor did he believe the rumours that a chupacabra was responsible. Only idiotas and drunkards believed in chupacabras. Still, he knew that whatever was going on, it was something he didn't understand. But like it or not, he knew he had to deal with it himself. He had found some footprints and a blood trail the day before, and he planned to follow the trail to whatever monstruo was hiding in the trees. He followed the trail of blood into the jungle to find out what little diablo was responsible.

He aimed a rifle into the bushes, towards the rustling, and fingered the trigger. An ocelote trotted out of the bushes. Diego breathed a sigh of relief. High-strung nerves. He felt cold sudor on his skin and his breathing was heavy and ragged. There was something dangerous out here. He could feel it in his huesos. The blood trail ended near a tree. And Diego stopped, and he stared. He had found his goat, or at least what was left of it. And what in infierno was eating it?

It reminded him of the lizards that walked on water like Christ - the basilisk lizard, perhaps? - but much, much bigger. Like a bird, it was covered in little feathers. Or could it be fur? And that head, like a monstruo! It was eating his goat, and Diego aimed his rifle to kill the ungodly thing. There was a click, and Diego winced. He had forgotten the bullets. The creature turned to look at him and snarled. "Dios omnipotente," he whispered as he backed up… right into something scaly. The creature in front of him ran off. Diego felt a sharp pain in his back, and a trickle of blood down his leg.

Miles away, a farmer heard distant screams. He turned, but there was no sound. He decided he must have imagined it and returned to reaping the soil.

Chapter 1: The Body

September 25th, 2011, Rojas Beach, Agua Lapislázuli Beach Resort, Ismaloya National Park, Costa Rica

"Look, Señor Levine, all this conspiracy stuff is giving my resort a bad reputation! Let's just get this over with and get that… thing out of here!" Alejandro Hernándes walked down the clean-polished floor with an air of flustered dignity. With a glance, you could tell he thought very highly of himself, but the man next to him looked twice as aloof and totally in his element. Dr. Richard Levine was, at first glance, your stereotypical professor, but he still somehow managed to look intimidating despite being a short, bald, bespectacled and slightly overweight man. He was a self-made man who worshipped his creator. "Don't worry, Mr. Hernándes. The situation will soon be rectified." They exited the beautiful resort and went onto the beach. It was a completely stereotypical tropical beach with blue water, warm breezes and waving palms. In the middle of the tropical dream was something unusual. Dr. Levine stopped in his tracks. "Señor? What is the matter?" Dr. Levine pointed and said "That, Mr. Hernández, is a dinosaur."

Richard Levine was a spoiled brat, which might be the nicest thing anybody has ever said about him. He was a brilliant man, though, and one of the world's great palaeontologists. He spent most of his childhood at Drumheller searching for fossils and his rich parents bought him an apprenticeship to John Ostrom. Levine became a very eminent palaeontologist, working with great names such as Jack Horner, John Roxton, Robert Bakker and Alan Grant and annoying them out of their minds. He became an expert in Gondwanan dinosaurs and dromaeosaurs, and he and Grant were the first to realize that raptors were much smarter than many people thought. His theories on raptor intelligence were quite controversial, but he was a respected man and few dared question him. As a result, he became even more aloof and self-centred. Rumour had it that Richard Levine had once received a death threat from his own grandmother. Not only was he a pompous pain in the rear, he was a brilliant pompous pain in the rear, not to mention a fairly rich, brilliant pompous pain in the rear after his father passed away from cancer and left his son everything (except a set of cutlery which was left to his butler and a pair of woollen mittens for his wife). Richard Levine was possibly the world's greatest palaeontologist, and nobody probably knew more about spinosaurs and abelisaurs, but if you want to know how fast a Carnotaurus could run, Google it and stay away from Richard Levine, or you just may commit suicide out of boredom, and probably take him down with you.

Dr. Levine examined the bloated corpse. "Really, I wish you had called me earlier, Mr. Hernández. The remains have decomposed quite a bit. Fortunately, the skeleton is intact." Hernández tried to protest. "Sir, I called-" Dr. Levine raised a hand. "Don't interrupt me. I'm working." He felt around and reached into the rotted remains of the stomach. Hernández winced. Dr. Levine finished his examination and went inside to wash his hands. "Let's see," he muttered to himself, "not a raptor. No Gondwanan genera that I know of. More primitive coelurosaur, that's obvious. It had to come from Sorna, that's the only source of living dinosaurs in Costa Rica. The world, for that matter. Let's see, basal coelurosaurs. They had that monstrosity they called Dilophosaurus - nothing like the fossil records, obviously. But that wasn't a coelurosaur. Well, too big to be Anchiornis, so it has to be… yes, big eyes, so it was probably Ornitholestes." He nodded, satisfied of his explanation. "Yes, but no nasal crest. Well, that was a muck-up from the start. It has to be Ornitholestes. I need to get a closer look."

When he returned to the beach, Hernández was gone and several Costa Rican soldiers were charging down the beach towards the body. At least he assumed they were Costa Rican. Levine was confused. He tapped one of the soldiers on the shoulder. "Hello, what's going on?" The soldier ignored him. Then, Levine noticed they all clutched flamethrowers and were headed right for the body. "Hey," he yelled, "NOOO!!" He ran towards them and tackled one. It was too late. The body was incinerated as flames leapt over it. Soon, there was nothing left but bones, which the soldiers hacked apart with crude machetes. Just before a pistol butt came down and put out Levine's lights, he saw an InGen logo on the shoulder of the soldier he had tackled.

Chapter 2: Fame and Glory

September 26th, 2011, GeneCorp Headquarters at San Francisco, California

The lights came on and the cameras were rolling. Robin Roberts sat at a table, her face plastered with make-up to the point where she looked like a walking mannequin. "Good morning, America," she said smiling, "I'm sure you all remember the day when we learned dinosaurs had been ressurrected. We have here now the man who pulled it off. One of the world's leading biogeneticists, founder of Genesis Corps., better known as GeneCorp, and of course the architect of Jurassic Park, let us give a warm welcome to Dr. Henry Wu. Hello, Henry." The camera panned out to reveal that Robin was not alone. A Chinese man in a smart-looking Italian suit sat across from him. The years had been kind to Dr. Wu. He had aged more in spirit and mind than in body, and he looked much like the man who had been chief geneticist for Jurassic Park years before. "Good morning, Robin." The lady smiled. "So good to see you, Henry! How are you?" "Excellent! It's been a good year, for me and the company. We've launced several new GM vegetable projects and we finally got the grant to start working on Project Regenesis! We've had plans for a long time and now we finally get to start work on cloning the Thylacine, passenger pigeon and - hold on to your hats - the Woolly mammoth! And on a personal side, my wife is pregnant with twins!" Robin smiled. "Congratulations! I hope they're beautiful children! Cloning a mammoth should be quick work for you, I'm sure." henry laughed. "If I had a nickel for every time I heard that, I could buy InGen and another Ferrari!" Robin smiled. "I was wondering when you'd bring up InGen! It's been about two years since you quit and Mr. Atherton replaced you, and he's been making about half a million dollars per year while your company has been experiencing financial difficulties. How are you feeling about that?" Henry shrugged. "I just didn't want to be a slave for the bureaucrats. Tim Murphy is a lot like his grandfather, always wanting more done faster. Poor man's living off life support now, I hear. Anyway, Tim wanted a new Jurassic Park on some island near Guam, and I couldn't be a part of that. I feel personally responsible for all the people who died as a result of my work." Henry sighed. He obviously had a lot on his shoulders. Robin nodded. "I'm sorry if that's a sensitive topic. Of course, a lot of people want to know how you did it. You cloned a total of 48 extinct species ranging from Megalania, from 20,000 years ago to Meganeura, a species which went extinct over 300 million years ago! How was that possible?" Henry nodded. "Well, obviously sequencing the genetic code of 48 species enough to clone them, especially species that have been extinct for millions of years, is difficult, so we-"

The interview was abruptly cut off by the TV remote. Henry had the whole thing on tape. It seemed surreal to be a celebrity now, and he had to remind himself constantly he wasn't dreaming. The interview was about a year old. The financial difficulties faced by GeneCorp had alleviated when they bought large portions of the dying InGen, shattered by public ridicule and lawsuit. Now, Tim Murphy was running a company half it's former size and importance living off his grandfather's fortune. Tim was no businessman, unlike his sister Lex. She was a little genius, and Henry could still vividly remember the first time he met her before the disaster at Jurassic Park had shattered his dreams of playing God. She and her brother were still children in his mind, innocent and naive. But their innocence had been brutally shattered by his creations, especially the Velociraptors. Those things were deadly and frightening. Secretly, he was quite proud of them. Sure, they differed quite radically from the fossil record - John Hammond had wanted them to be frightening monsters, not birds. He'd combined them with Deinonychus and a touch of Utahraptor DNA to get the frightening end product. After he turned off their feather genes, he'd been left with a creepy, scaly, reptilian monster. He loved them as much as he feared them, but not as much as Dr. Sorkin's creations. He shuddered to remember poor Joe, who hadn't properly closed their pen door and payed with his life. His reminiscing was interrupted as he strode from his office into reality. A Woolly mammoth/elephant hybrid was about to be born. Time to get busy.

Chapter 3: Hunting a Hunter

September 26th, 2011, Mt. Ventoso, Ismaloya National Park, Costa Rica

Dr. Martin Guitierez was on the trail of a predator. Several days ago, a farmer had shot at the poor beast to protect his flock of sheep. The farmer was convinced that the jaguar had been killing his livestock, as well as his next-door neighbour Diego's goats and, recently, Diego himself. The poor man had been found mauled to death. Rumours did have it that jaguars had become more aggressive lately, though Marty had found no evidence to support this. He suspected the fatalities were the work of some sort of large bird of prey. The wounds were consistent with some sort of bird, except the slash marks. Perhaps a cassowary had escaped a private zoo? But why had it been killing and eating herbivores like tapirs? Well, some rich idiot was going to pay for allowing a pet to escape into the pristine rainforests of Costa Rica.

Marty was reaching the edge of the cloud forest and he knew the jaguar was fleeing some sort of predator. It never would have fled this far up the mountain otherwise. But what could scare away a jaguar in it's natural habitat? No doubt an invasive species of predator. Perhaps he was wrong about the cassowary - a jaguar could easily take on one of the big birds from New Guinea, despite the foot claw. He wondered whether or not the attacks were the work of multiple creatures. The nature of the attacks did seem to vary wildly. He stopped. The tracks looked like the creature had been limping. And he noticed a distinctive blood trail, drops of blood lining the trampled bushes and footprints. The jaguar had obviously been in a fight with something, cassowary or not. He soon came across a pile of jaguar dung. He leaned in and poked it with his finger. Still warm. Suddenly, he heard a noise. He slowly stood up and, one foot at a time, snuck towards the source of the sound. He peeked through the vines and wished he hadn't. Something was eating the jaguar.

He stared, open-mouthed at the monstrosity before him. His eyes were sending information to his brain that his brain couldn't except because that was impossible. It was a dinosaur. Marty got careless and trod on a twig. The creature looked up and barked some sort of distress call, then ran off. Marty found he was trembling as he walked towards the remains of the jaguar. His mind flashed to the news broadcast - dinosaurs had been cloned by InGen on a remote island off the coast of Costa Rica. Well, they sure as hell weren't on a remote island anymore.

Chapter 4: Captive

September 26th, 2011, En route to San José, Ismaloya Mountains National Park

When Dr. Levine woke up, he was in a place he didn't recognize. Some sort of prison cell? No, it was bouncing about. As his eyes adjusted, he realized he was in a Jeep. There was a man with him, a guard who looked like he was itching to use his AK-47. Dr. Levine was quite annoyed. "Boy, what is going on here?" The guard snarled and produced a cigarette. Levine sat up as comfortably as he could with ropes tying down his arms and legs. "Perhaps you don't know who I am." The guard ignored him and lit the cigarette. "I am Dr. Richard Levine. Obviously, I'm sure you've heard of me. Now, this is all a big mistake. Could you please let me off? I can find my way - I'm very at home in South America." The guard puffed cigarette smoke at Dr. Levine. "This isn't South America, señor." Dr. Levine bristled with anger. "This is against the Geneva Convention! I demand that I speak with your superiors, young man!" The guard sighed and crushed the cigarette into his left hand, grinding it down to ashes. Dr. Levine gulped. "Wh-who are you?" He cleared his throat, trying to cover his stuttering. The guard nodded. "My name, it is Carlos. And that is all you need to know, my friend." He smiled as smoke rose up from his left hand. "Who are your employers?" Carlos motioned towards his shoulder. Dr. Levine squinted and discovered a logo on his uniform - InGen. He laughed. "Ah, InGen. And a dinosaur on the beach. Yes, things are starting to make sense now." Carlos raised an eyebrow, reminiscent of Spock. Dr. Levine wondered how much American TV this man watched in the middle of nowhere. "What is a dinosaur, señor?" Probably no TV whatsoever. Dr. Levine was taken aback. Levine was a man who had devoted a lifetime to the study of dinosaurs, and for the first time in his life, he had found someone who didn't know what a dinosaur was! "Where are you taking me?" The guard smiled. "The airport. We have orders to evacuate civilians from the Ismaloya Mountains." This was odd news. As Dr. Levine mulled over the events of the day, he yawned. The sun was setting. Carlos nodded. "Sleep, señor." Dr. Levine nodded and turned away, only to become entangled. He groaned and rolled over. Then, he noticed a hole in the canvas over the truck. A reptilian eye stared through the hole.

Dr. Levine's own eyes grew wide. He stared, slack-jawed, into the eyes of some… thing. The eye darted about, and to his horror there was intelligence in it. He heard screams. Before he could say "RAPTOR!!", a sickle claw slashed it's way into the truck and a deadly Velociraptor lunged towards the scientist.

Chapter 5: The Mammoth

September 26th, 2011, GeneCorps Headquarters, San Francisco, California

Henry just had to be there for the birth. He'd seen dinosaurs hatch, he'd watched the resurrection of a dozen species driven to extinction by man, from the golden toad to the thylacine to the dodo, but every time he'd seen an extinct species reborn it was still miraculous. The Indian elephant female, who they'd named Sikkim after the province (all their Indian elephants were named after Indian provinces) was one of the five who had successfully reared the mammoth/elephant hybrid for six months. Rajasthan had lost her's to unknown causes, possibly complications in the infant's circulatory system, and the other two, Goa and Puducherry, had given birth to stillborns. Punjab's baby died mere seconds after birth. Cloning was a difficult business, especially with large mammals. Everybody involved in the project had their fingers crossed that Sikkim's baby would make it.

Sikkim was in a warehouse surrounded by experienced veterinarians and geneticists. When giving birth, an elephant tends to stick close to other females, so Punjab, Rajasthan and Meghalaya had been brought in to provide comfort. Sikkim stood at the centre of attention. She was obviously stressed out. "Give her space, give her space" yelled Jess, the head veterinarian, "don't get too close!" Dr. Wu looked on from a distance. The head and forelegs were supposed to come out first, but something wasn't quite right - the mammoth was coming out backwards. Sikkim moaned and Rajasthan tried to help by pulling at the baby with her trunk, to no avail. Once again, Dr. Wu was surprised by how human they were - you could see the intelligence in their eyes. "Jess, why is the baby coming out backwards?" Jess Harding shrugged. "I don't know. Hang on." She ran up to Sikkim and reached up to the baby elephant. "There's another problem. The umbilical cord is around the baby's neck." The legs kicked and the baby was obviously panicky. So was Sikkim. The other elephants trumpeted in distress. Dr. Wu clenched his fists so hard his knuckles were turning white. Despite everything Jess could do, the baby soon stopped kicking altogether. Eventually, she managed to get Sikkim to lie down and cut the umbilical cord. The baby slid out, but it wasn't moving. She pumped it's chest. "Adrenaline," she yelled, "I need adrenaline, Dr. Chang!" Dr. Wu quietly slipped away while the infant was still the centre of attention. A tear rolled down his left cheek and he made no move to wipe it away.

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