Secrets and Lies

6. Requests (M)

          Sun-up two days later, three days before they were set to ship out, James loaded his gear into the back of a truck driven by San, Mason sitting beside her. She slid to the center of the bench, folding her legs underneath her to keep out of the way of the gear shift as James climbed in. The three MONARCH representatives turned temporary lackeys for InGen, had been called to a meeting to go over and meet the team they'd be working with. A so-called olive branch of trust and unity.

    "Anyone else have a really bad feeling about this?"

    James smirked, shaking his head at Mason for asking such an obvious question. "Meeting the head of InGen at a randomly called meeting days before we're set to head out to an uncharted island that may or may not be inhabited by dinosaurs, cryptids, and all manner of God knows what else? No. Not suspicious in the least."

    "It is just a formality," San reassured them as she pulled away from the curb. "They want to make sure we understand the chain of command and that everything is in order. It is more than Randa did for us. We were thrown together without a care in the world."

    "Odd how that's not as reassuring as you'd like it to be," Mason grinned. "How long is this drive again?"

    "Seven and a half hours non-stop. I packed sandwiches."

    "All well and good, except I just chugged a liter of water so we're going to have to stop sometime; unless you both want to ride the rest of the way in a urine-soaked seat."

    "Funnel and bottles are under the seat, James will be polite and look out the window."

    "It's nothing he hasn't been up close and personal with before."

    "Which is exactly why he will be a perfect gentleman on this trip. From now until we come back home."

    "If we come home," James muttered.

    "We will come home. Or at least I will," San snapped back defiantly.

    "Don't trust Houston to raise Aaron, do you?"

    "That man barely survived his childhood. He needs all the help he can get."

    "So you're what, going to survive purely out of spite?"

    "If that is what it takes," San sighed. She glanced over at Mason and James, cracking a grin as she saw the two of them grinning like fools. "Both of you stop."

    "Can't," Mason smirked. "The image of Ghost San running around behind a petrified Houston holding Aaron up like a sacrifice, his diaper barely hanging on all 'Are you happy now,' just tickles me."

    James snorted, imagining the imagery as well. He could picture it all now; San floating nearby as Houston ran around like a chicken without its head trying to parent and run the Outpost all on his own, and failing miserably. It was a rather comical image, he had to admit. Particularly when he imagined San exasperatedly shaking her head before she soared through a wall to escape Houston's well-intentioned stupidity.

    Sighing wistfully, James watched the shoreline fade into the side mirror as San smoothly turned the truck to the left, pulling them onto CA-One North and headed toward CA-Sixty-eight East. They were on their way now; tank full of gas, trunk full of equipment and supplies. Everything was good to go; except for James. Staring out the window, he felt the weight of the last conversation he'd had with Christine on her birthday sink back in. In truth, it hadn't exactly left his shoulders since she'd hung up on him after telling him he was a wonderful experience she didn't want a repeat of. He felt like a fool for having even suggested going to see her. She'd made it clear each time they'd spoken that she wasn't interested in his apologies, explanations, or excuses; that the time for any of that had long passed. It'd been nineteen years after all. Nineteen years of nothing but loss, broken promises, and zero explanation for it. He couldn't blame her for her bitterness, had he been in her shoes, he'd have been bitter as well.