Beta Raptor [Owen Grady]

prologue

Alonso

It isn’t often ferry boats that end up in these waters. Often they're home to fishing boats, overzealous yacht owners, and the recreational sailboats. Not ferries, especially ones from that shutdown park... Jurassic place? Jurassic earth? Didn't it shut down a few years back?

“Alonso.”

“Yes?”

Mora, my partner, readjusts the straps of his thick black vest. 

“There’s something on the deck.” He points towards the ferry, handing me the binoculars. “Blood, I think.”

“Blood?” I bring them to my face. A bloodstain on the edge of the deck trailing overboard, stopping halfway down the hull. Beside it, black spots that look like bullet holes. I can’t make out how large they are, or how many there may be. Blood, however, is never a good sign.  

“I thought it was abandoned.”

“The gentleman that called it said it was.m. Must’ve not seen the blood.” 

“How could something that old make it out this far?”

Mora shrugs, grimacing. “Don’t know.”

Easing back on the throttle, I glance at my men, who all seem to be just as confused—if not more so than I—as they prepare their equipment. The boat slows, no longer cutting through the water like butter; Instead, it drifts, moving with the waves. Retrieving my loud speaker and dispatch microphone.

“This is the Costa Rican Civil Guard. You are trespassing our waters, violating local and international law. You have five minutes to appear above deck with your hands above your head, otherwise we will board and search your ship. This is your first and last warning.” I say aloud, before repeating myself in native tongue. 

As our ship comes to a slow stop, I look at Mora. He seems in thought, eyes trained on the opposing vessel. What could be on his mind?

“Do you think there’s anyone on it?”

“No… But I don’t want to take any chances.” He responds. 

We wait in silence, taking turns monitoring the vessel alongside my men. After a few minutes of no activity, I give my team the go-ahead. Abandoned ships have their own protocol, which becomes even further convoluted if a crime’s been committen. Given the amount of blood, it’s safe to assume we’ve got a shitshow on our hands.

“You take below, we will take above.”

It is essential we search the entire thing from above deck to down below, careful not to disturb anything that could be considered evidence. One wrong move could result in our deaths… or our jobs. 

As we board, my eyes are immediately drawn to two things. The bloodstain from earlier—which is much smaller than I expected it to be—and a broken lanyard a few feet away in the middle of another blood stain. This one is a bit bigger. Mora sends a curious look my way.

“Is that an ID?”

“I’m not sure.” I approach the lanyard, kneeling beside a control panel to retrieve it. It is stuck to the ground by the dried-up bloodstain, but just beneath the edge of the panel is a plastic rectangle. I peel it back, revealing a dirtied ID card. It’s difficult to make out most of it.  ‘-illiams, Ingen Research’ followed by ‘—periment B-’ 

“What does it say?” I flash the card to Mora in response, who squints in an attempt to read it. After a moment he quirks a brow at me. 

“Experiment?” He repeats to me in English. I shrug, setting the ID back down. If this is a crime scene, I shouldn’t interfere with anything else.