Jurassic Park 3: "Return To Chaos"

Part 2: Deception And Crash Landing

Eve POV:

Mike was getting ready for his trip, and I couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in my gut. The risks were too high, and while I knew things were tight right now, this felt like more than just a bad idea—it was reckless. He was putting himself in danger, and I couldn't stand the thought.

He emerged from the bedroom, a trace of doubt on his face. "I'll be okay," he reassured me, gently lifting my chin with his hand. "Don't worry, alright?"

Trying to ease my anxiety, I opened a drawer and handed him a satellite phone. "Take this with you, just in case."

Mike took it, his smile softening the tension between us. "Of course. I'll come home to you," he promised, placing a hand on my pregnant belly. "To both of you." He smiled again, trying to comfort me. "And don't forget, my mother will be here the whole time."

As if on cue, his mother appeared around the corner. "Dear, this kitchen needs some serious rearranging. I'll take care of it," she announced, already moving to get started.

I couldn't help the sarcastic reply that slipped out. "That's what I'm afraid of."

Mike grinned, clearly amused. "Yeah, lucky for me, I won't be here." He kissed my cheek and headed out the door.

As the sounds of clattering pots and pans filled the kitchen, I let out a long sigh, resting a hand on my stomach. "I'm going to need a lot more patience," I muttered, bracing myself for the chaos that would be my life for the next few days.

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Mike POV:

Sitting in the airplane high above the clouds, I gazed out the window, feeling a growing sense of anxiety at the thought of returning to Isla Sorna. It's not the sort of place anyone should go back to, especially when it's crawling with deadly dinosaurs.

Billy was meticulously checking his camera gear, piece by piece. Meanwhile, Alan, glancing at Billy's worn-out bag, couldn't help but comment. "With what I pay you, you can't afford a better bag?"

Billy smirked as he slipped some equipment into the old pack. "No chance. This one's lucky."

"Lucky, huh?" I asked, intrigued.

Billy's grin widened. "A couple of years ago, some friends and I went hang gliding off cliffs in New Zealand. This huge updraft slammed me right into the side of a cliff. Wham!"

Alan raised an eyebrow. "That sounds lucky," he said with dry sarcasm.

"It was," Billy insisted, holding up the strap of his bag. "This strap right here saved my life. It got hooked on a rock just as I was falling."

His tone shifted as he added, "Alan, I just want to say thanks for bringing me along."

Alan stared out the window. "The bones will still be there when we get back. That's the great thing about bones—they don't run away."

I leaned forward in my seat. "That's his way of saying thanks, I think. Truth is, you're the one who got us into this, and I'd hate to be stuck with these people alone."

I shot a glance at the three mercenaries seated with the Kirby's, each one looking more suspicious than the last.

"Don't get too excited," Alan muttered, reclining his seat. "We probably won't see a thing." He tipped his hat over his face. "Wake me when we get there." And with that, he drifted off to sleep.

Billy glanced over at one of the mercenaries, a man I believed was named Cooper. He wore a tailored suit and thick, tinted sunglasses, an odd choice for such a trip. Billy's curiosity got the better of him. "So, how do you know the Kirbys?" he asked.