YOUR CALL HAS BEEN FORWARDED TO AN AUTOMATED VOICE MESSAGING SYSTEM...

"Doing okay there, buddy?"

"Hm?"

Click leisurely lifted his heavy head from the shallow void of his phone, still groggy from the drunken night before. Even through this mellowed state, he didn't need to think twice to know who had spoken. With Click's insecurities growing more in the past few days and a period of sorrow filling his innocent heart, he knew this man would fumble into his story eventually, as he always did whenever his life fell down. Click liked that kind of friendship, that treatment in knowing that there was always someone there to support him. Still, at a time like this, he didn't think it was all that necessary, especially given their strict standards and acute area of work.

"Come to save me again, Jameson?"

"That's my job, for some reason," the bearded pale man muttered, fumbling down upon the slopes of the black bench he sat upon. Bearing a plaid shirt, denim jeans, and black boots, the man seemed to come straight out of a gym, or a working day out in the forests. Click looked no different, though a bit more relaxed with a buttoned down long-sleeve shirt as he prepared to leave the facility for home. He scoffed momentarily, looking down at the phone once more before Click shut off the display.

"Still nothing?"

Click shook his head. "They're probably busy."

"They've been busy for four years now, Tom."

"Yeah..." Click exhaled turning to him. "Funny how you know my girls better than me."

"Oh, you know, I just have these... psychic abilities," Jameson said smartly, offering a toothy grin to his friend. "It's not like I see you on this bench every time you try to call."

"That's because you're very observant of me."

"True," the man shrugged. "Thankfully that doesn't make me a stalker. I'm just looking out for you, because nobody here does."

"But, don't you have an actual job?" Click questioned him.

"For what, chemistry?" Jameson smirked in amusement, padding his knee with his right wrist. "Yeah, sure, call that my side gig, Tom. I'll admit, it is fun, but it takes so much time to build DNA strands. It's a sort of waiting game -- eventually you grow bored when that darn synthesizer malfunctions every so often. My real job is tracking those dinosaurs that went haywire, and informing Wu about it. You just get all the fun stuff."

Click blinked. "You just think it's fun. It's not always the case. I just drive people insane because I'm a 'dino lover'. Truth be told I figure they're just jealous."

"So, then, what's the deal today? Besides... you know..."

The indoraptor trainer grumbled to himself, pushing his phone into his back pocket, then pushed his hands out to the forefront of his body. His brows narrowed in thought, and he pushed his intuitions forward once more for Jameson to hear.

"I screwed up..." he began. "Again. In the desert during that mission. I thought I had things planned out perfectly, but I didn't know that there'd be bigger dangers out there where I sent Seven. She could've died because of me."

"I heard about the mission. Some of the boys told me earlier. But she's not dead, right?"

"Yeah, she's okay. But Wu thinks I'm to blame because of my connection to her. It's not normal, sure, but, for the longest time, I refused to believe that it's true. Now I'm starting to doubt myself because, more often than not, he's never wrong."

"Everyone wrong about something."

"Not Wu. Or at least that's what the world sees him to be: A perfectionist who levies any mistake, even if it costs lives."

Jameson rubbed his beard for a moment, clasping both hands together, then responded.

"I think you know what I'm going to say."

"Ignore him?"

"Yes, but not just that. You know you saw this coming," he said, still watching on the adjacent side of Click's left shoulder. "There are always side effects to this job, big or small. Sometimes... things happen that are way beyond your control, and you can't do anything about it."

"Right."

"Still," the man sighed, relaxing his shoulder muscles. "I think they're pushing it a bit. INGEN's just forcing you to order Seven all around, but she has a mind of her own, too. She'll make decisions for herself eventually, she's not a baby anymore."

"I'm aware of it," Click huffed back at him. "But it's for a good reason. I just don't want her to end up like the rest of them."

"The rest of who?"

"The others who came before her," he responded softly, gritting his teeth as his tongue folded over the words. "Those monsters. The ones that kill for fun. Remember?"

Jameson pursed his lips, eying the ground for a second time, and exhaled quietly. He could tell that there was a hint of sorrow in Click's words, not just over the fear of his own friend, but of himself. It wasn't just doubt that fiddled with his burning heart, but something else, something memorable.

"I'm... I'm more scared for her, Jameson," Click muttered next, nodding his head once. "Nobody has treated her like herself, not like I have. They'll hurt her for more than just the sake of her health, and it's not just INGEN that does it. People have committed the same crimes against all of them. Besides, Wu's her most perfect creation that hasn't turned... but if they hurt her, she'll..."

He trailed off, gritting his teeth for a moment, then nodded through his growing tears.

"I remember the last time that happened. The last time they broke their own monster for the sake of pure 'science'... and they tell you it's for the best. They 'tell' you it's normal procedures... then they draw others in for them to think that hey, nothing's wrong here. Everything's perfect and everyone's excited. No need to worry... and then the lie grows."

"Then you're forced into this lie because you believe in that excitement... because you're promised the thrill of an adventure that is beyond our time. You think it's a fantasy, but it feels so... real. And then it becomes real. It turns bleak, and dark... and bitter. And, when that siren starts wailing, and those people start running..."

Click paused for a moment, then rubbed the black hairs upon his blushed chin in thought. Jameson watched unsettled by his sudden turn of words, twitching his fingers as he listened.

"This isn't just about Seven, is it?"

"Because I lost people here, Jameson," Click scowled, narrowing his eyes. "I've lost enough from a simple mistake."

"Your girls?"

He shook his head. "The girls are okay. But they won't talk to me anymore... after what happened in 2015. To their mother..."

"I left Janet..." he continued. "I left her to protect the girls when the impossible happened. Moved them into a building far enough away from the chaos of the park. I figured she'd be okay -- she's strong enough to handle herself. But, all that was left of her was a bloody shoe... and a ring. Just like that I... I knew what happened. Five years later, I still live with that choice... -- like a dark fog that won't go away, it's just... always there."

"You can't think past it?"

The trainer shook his head. "I know this place caused it... I know they faulted, and they've fallen, but I joined to ensure that this never happens again. They chose abuse to solve their problems... but there's always a better way. I don't want things to turn south because I don't want others to make that dreadful choice, too. And I can't let another life fall because of it."

"Then, why are you leaving?"

Click sighed. "I'm not quitting... just taking some time off at another facility upstate until she gets better. Wu recommended it to me... since there's no other missions at the moment. And I have no partner, too. Besides, I can't do anything from behind a wall, and I can't simply stand here waiting for signs. Seven needs time to heal. So do I."

"I can't argue with that. But, if you've gone through all these terrors, then why choose Seven?" Jameson asked. "Why care for a hybrid of all things if your histories are so... bloody?"

Click swallowed calmly to himself. "She's more of an adoptive daughter to me. She is my reset button, Jameson, someone that I can teach and learn from. Someone I can love... and be responsible for. Sure I... train her and tend to her like people would to pets, but everything else is her decision to make. If she does wrong, she'll learn. And if she does things right, I'll let her know. It's why she trusts me. If... If I can make her happy and change the way she sees the world, then, maybe I can fix this place, and every other bit of madness that rots here."

Jameson pursed his lips, rubbing both gloves together, then nodded. "That's awfully deep to think about. But, what if she makes a big mistake?"

"Big mistakes are common," he responded quickly. "Everybody does it. That shouldn't make me love her any less."

"And if she kills?"

"Kills?" Click blinked before he could tilt his head. "What do you mean, kills?"

"You know exactly what I mean."

"She wouldn't k--" he paused, then shook his head. "She won't kill for fun. That's not her."

The soldier widened his eyes, scoffing for a moment as if considering a thought, a dreadful one if any. He turned to face Click, looking him dead in the eye, and grew serious.

"You said it yourself, Tom. Nothing is perfect. Every fantasy, real or not, has it's dark side... and, after what happened to her in the desert, I'm sure hers is coming out."

"She's not going to turn evil. Seven's not like them. I know it."

"I'm aware," replied Jameson. "But, with you leaving, you better hope that giving her to Henry Wu doesn't change her mental stability. Because, based on what I know, every hybrid starts the same, and dies the same. And it all sparks from a single wrong within that cell."

"Wu kept my word to help heal her."

"You keep telling yourself that," muttered his friend. "But, you know what's common about all mad scientists? They are never satisfied with what they can control. Your girl, Seven, she's one of a kind here, Tom. You expect a man who's designed six hybrids to simply let her go once he's finished?"

Click narrowed his eyes. "You want me to stay then?"

"I-I'm not saying that. I'm just warning you of what may come if Wu throws on that lab coat," he muttered next. The trainer clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, eying the dark hallways of the facility for a moment, then sighed. He stood up, rubbing his hand against the base of his chin, and exhaled.

"I don't want to leave her... but I don't want to hurt her again. I just want my girl to be okay when I come back. We both need to be okay..."

"And you can't do that here?"

"No."

Jameson nodded solemnly, looking up at Click and spoke.

"In that case I'll stay here then."

"What? Y-You have to go home, too-"

"I don't, actually," he responded to him. "It's Halloween, that kiddy holiday is not that important to me. But, with that crazy man here looking for a dinosaur to make, I still worry for your friend. If she really means this much to you, then I'll help out by watching her from above. You just need your beauty sleep."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

Click, agreeing with his word, pushed his phone into the folds of his pants, brushed off, then dug his fingers into the lines of his hair. His eyes glistened like twin moons in a blackened sky, and his teeth chattered once, contemplating his current thoughts. With nothing more to consider, he nodded to Jameson and pointed to his pocket.

"If anything happens I'm turning my car around."

"Nothing will happen, Tom, I promise."

"Alright," he nodded, already beginning to pace away. "Thank you, Jameson. And thanks for listening."

"Anytime."

Click smiled, gathering his last things, then began to wander off toward the hallway. As soon as he vanished behind a corner, Jameson's face hardened, and his jaws twisted into a locked pose. His right hand motioned toward his right hip where a phone sat, and, after a flick of the two front lenses, he toiled to his messages and typed:

~ Anyone there?

There was a paused before another text message appeared.

~~ Line One is open. Requesting Code:

Jameson's fingers rushed over the keyboard:

~ 0655

~~ Accepted Mike Jameson. Status?

Jameson looked around for a moment, inhaling a deep breath at the cold ambient air around him before responding in text:

~ Facility is cold. People are leaving now. I've investigated the area you've asked for twice. Many entry points at the roof and rear supply entrance. Low security here.

~~ Is Asset-IndoFF77 still in INGEN containment?

Jameson swallowed then nodded.

~ White Indoraptor is still in containment. Requesting further action to retrieve asset?

There was a significant pause in the return message. It made Jameson worry a bit as he eyed the glowing phone, all before a pop up icon signified a new say by the anonymous on the other end.

~~ Negative. Asset capture will be done during the board meeting. Next mission is to retrieve three data disks on Henry Wu's computer: IndoFF77, IndoFF15, and IndoR1. Upload via this device to us.

Jameson sighed, rubbing the back of his head, then nodded.

~ And my payment?

~~...

~ Hello?

~~ $1,000,000. Will triple once mission two and three are complete. But only after. Then you shall receive your payment.

~ What else should I do?

~~ Wait.

The man grunted slightly, lifting his eyes up toward the INGEN symbol ahead of him, then back down to the phone.

~ Understood. But, isn't this considered stealing?

~~ Jurassic World DNA is no longer property of INGEN Corps. They will be escorted to Clearlake, California for further experimentation. All other remnants of INGEN shall be disposed of. They now belong to us, as we will make great use to it. Remember that, Jameson.

Jameson snorted, typing back.

~ I always have, sir.