Categories > Movies > Jurassic Park > For Those of The Five Deaths
SGTLEGENDKILLER
‘For Those of The Five Deaths’
A Jurassic Park Fanfiction
Act I Chapter III
“Guard Duty”
Nicole brushed her hair past her eyes behind her ear as she looked down at the passing ocean below. The Agusta A-109A had been making a brisk pace from Nicaragua for some island cluster that she had heard from someone on the mainland as ‘Las Cinco Muertos,’ or ‘The Five Deaths’ in English. The guy at the hotel almost seemed spooked to talk about it, something about heavy conspiracies related to InGen and their government involvement with Costa Rica in preventing anyone outside of the company from getting anywhere near the island. Being from Texas she had learned a good amount of Spanish so she was able to pick up a decent bit of what the man was yapping about. She kinda chuckled about it in retrospect since the guy seemed to be talking about these islands like it some something out of King Kong or Godzilla or something; Either way, it was all stupid. Regardless of what legends she heard about InGen, she was on her way to work for their Security Division on their island. What sucked about the whole thing was that she had to uproot everything and move on-site on an island in the Pacific Ocean. However, they offered her a fantastic salary and besides: It was a Pacific Island near the Equator. How bad could it be?
“You think that this place is gonna have beaches, Brian?” One of the four men that had been hired on with her as a batch asked another.
“I mean sure.” Brian McGalleger, a Wisconsin native, answered as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt a bit. “Why the hell wouldn’t it? It’s an Island, Tony.”
“Well, not all islands have beaches, Brian?” The thinner man, Tony Himmel from Colorado, answered.
“And what Islands have you seen without beaches?” The man sitting directly across from Nicole asked.
“I don’t know… Manhattan?” Tony replied.
The eyes of the man across from him shot up humorously. “That doesn’t count.”
“I don’t care, Dane,” Tony said, throwing a hand up. “I just want to get to see all of us loose and chillin’ on the beach.”
Nicole, being the only woman in the group, could feel at least a few of their gazes move over to her. Typical. The ‘boys’ had been the worst part of the whole trip down here. Without saying a word, Nicole turned back to look at Tony with the most unenthused face she could give him with her arms crossed. She had learned very well in this man’s world that it paid to act and look as ‘bitchy’ as physically possible. Her look caused the three on the other side of the helicopter to grow quiet and uncertain. With just a look, she changed the whole atmosphere of the cabin and made them nearly squirm in their seats. After several seconds of them being quiet, Nicole went back to looking out the helicopter window at the water below.
Dane began to laugh. “You boys have a lot to learn about talking around ladies, don’t you?” He sighed. “Miss. Don’t worry about them… Now that we all have to for sure play nice together, I’ll do my best to help you keep them in line.”
“And who the hell are you to boss us around, huh?” Tony asked, trying to regain some confidence.
“Well… Here is the thing, Tony. Only one of us is scared of the other… And I can betcha that my lumberjack ass isn’t afraid of you, ya dinky city slicker.”
Nicole hummed at this softly. She really didn’t need Dane’s help, though she would admit that out of all of them, she hated him the least by far. From what she had heard in passing was that he was the son of some USAF couple that had lived near some base around Fairbanks, Alaska for years. She remembered him saying about growing tired of working for a logging company a few towns over and wanted to get into something less ‘exciting’ than being around falling trees and saws all day. He seemed like a nice enough guy overall, but she would have to see.
After more of a quiet ride, the helicopter passed to the far south of some island, and while they were a great distance away, the island’s green silhouette was breathtaking. That was Isla Nublar, which was the closest of six islands that were leased by InGen. They still had a bit to go if Nicole recalled on the maps she had glanced over the last few weeks. The helicopter would eventually begin to level out as it began its approach to the North edge of another island. Nicole leaned slightly to watch the helicopter pass over the shore and tree line before eventually seeing a group of large buildings in a clearing connected to a trio of docks. The helicopter came in nice and easy before settling down in a landing zone on the other side of the two warehouses, across from the docks. The helicopter began to power down and the doors were opened by one of the airmen.
Nicole was first to slide out onto the concrete; she had never been too fond of flying, so she was chomping at the bit to get to solid ground. Everyone piled out after her and they quickly moved away from the Helicopter as it began powering down. As they got to a safe distance, an older gentleman approached them from the nearest building. The man was wearing a dark blueish gray uniform and a medium-duty bulletproof vest with a holster on his hip. With a high and tight crew cut and his firm posture, Nicole could obviously see this guy was probably an old military guy.
“Good morning, Trainees!” The man spoke loudly over the still powering down Heli. “I hope the flight wasn’t too rough for you all…” He gave a welcome smile. “I am Harold Finch; the head of security on the Island. It’s nice to finally meet all of you! I’ve heard great things about you all from the security team in Kenya.” He told them
Nicole nodded slightly, she was the only one of the group who hadn’t been relocated to John Hammond’s animal preserve to train. She was just given a detailed protocol booklet and was told that her military service was enough for most that the others would have learned.
“Now anyway.” The man paused to cough twice slightly from the dust from the helicopter, covering his mouth. “Let’s get you all inside. We have to have a little debrief and introduce you all to some important people on the island. Grab your bags and come on this way.” He said with an inviting wave of the hand as he turned to walk towards the building.
Now that the helicopter had powered down, the crew had gotten out to start pulling their bags from the rear compartment of the aircraft to set them down near the open door. Nicole had packed two bags for the trip, one full of clothes, the other of a few other things including some emergency gear and a pistol that InGen had approved her to bring along with her. She went to grab her bags and hefted them from the floor of the helicopter.
“Do you need a hand with those?” Tony offered quickly once she had lowered her bags to her side and over her shoulder.
“Nope.” She replied tautly with a sigh as she stepped to the side so the others could grab their stuff.
Once they had all grabbed their bags, they made their way after Mr. Finch who was waiting around the corner of the building near the entrance.
“This is the Security Center for the Island. We do have stations at the headquarters building in the main town and further Southwest with the main vehicle garage, but this is where the base of operations is. It is here where we monitor all of the freight coming in and out of the island; this is the main port of entry after all.” He smiled and looked amongst them. “Either way…”
He opened the front door for the group to enter the lobby of the building. The lobby wasn’t too large, and the group filled up most of the occupational space other than the chairs and a small table to the left of the room. Behind a curved desk was an older lady with greying long hair who smiled as they walked in. While the woman had an almost thin and lanky look to her, behind her cup of coffee was the welcome smile of a southern grandmother.
“Diane… This is the new group of Trainees.” Harold smiled at her and sort of waved in their direction to introduce them.
“Howdy!” The woman lowered her cup and gave a little wave. “It’s nice to meet y’all!”
The group all kind of said hello back.
“Now if you will excuse me, I have to finish the conference call that was going on before you guy’s landed. So I'll have Diane take you guys to the breakroom. .” Mr. Finch said in a bit of a rush. “I’ll be back in a little bit... Should only be a few minutes.”
As Mr. Finch left the room, Diane stood from her desk with a sigh, coffee still in hand. “Oh don’t mind him… He just loves to have me take care of all his work…” The woman laughed lightly, clearly joking. “Follow me… The break room is right down the hall.” She said as she walked around her desk into the hallway to behind the wall her desk was at.
At the end of the hall towards the right was an open door that she led them too. Inside she stopped and turned to them. “Here y’all’s go. This spot should have any fixin’ y’alls need... If you need anything else I'll be right back there hunkered down at my desk with my coffee.’ She smiled and walked back down the hall; a rather quick introduction and exit.
The breakroom had quite an extensive catalog of snacks and drinks from US domestic and some local items from Costa Rica. On the other side of the room from the door, there was a pair of large sliding door refrigerators filled with all sorts of soda and cold snack foods like hard-boiled eggs and small wrapped sandwiches. Next to the fridges, there was a pair of coffee machines, an espresso machine, and a tea-pot station. On the other end of the counter was a wire rack full of sweets and other dry snacks along with a decent selection of oatmeal bowls and cereal boxes. Simply put: This place was loaded. Nicole had heard that the CEO’s motto was ‘spare no expense,’ but she had thought it was just corporate speak. This breakroom alone was better stocked than anywhere else she had seen, and she had toured the facilities of the Dallas Cowboys if that was any comparison. Most of them dropped their bags near the door and walked past the trio of tables and the several couches and lounge chairs to get a better look.
“Jesus Christ!” One of the others, Beck White from Northern Minnesota, exclaimed. “They have Vernors?” He said, pulling a green ginger ale can from one of the fridges.
Nicole had heard of that brand before, apparently, it was a big deal in the states around the Great Lakes. She soon forgot all about what everyone else was doing when her eyes glazed across a clear bottle full of red liquid; her eyes sparkled slightly as she read the words: ‘Big Red.’
“Son of a bitch…” She muttered under her breath as she reached in and took one of the bottles and opened it. She took a mouthful of the sweetest bubble-gum flavored soda. It had been a while since she had gotten her hands on it and it was as good as it always had been. Once she had gotten over the surprise of finding one of her favorite sodas, she browsed the dry snack collection and grabbed two bags of Tato Skins, one regular, one barbeque flavored. With food to nibble on, she walked into the lounge area to one of the chairs that she could keep her back to the corner to watch the room. Not that she was paranoid, but it was how she was taught at a younger age by her father; If you can put your back to the wall and watch the ways in and out, do it. Its best to have as much situational awareness when possible.
Nothing much happened for the next half an hour or so. The group had spread out around the break room. Beck, Brian, and Tony had gathered around one of the tables and were talking about cars or something with some magazines. Dane and another new hire by the name James Booth were chatting it up standing around the coffee machines, and the other guy named Brandon Miller was quietly reading a book; the Lonesome Dove, by Larry Murtry no less. A bit of a dry read in Nicole’s opinion but she wasn’t one to judge.
Eventually, Mr. Finch returned to the group from his office. “Hey. Sorry about that, guys and gals. Your flight landed sooner than I was expecting… I thought I had more time to finish up that call.” He explained with an almost tired sigh. “So… If you all want to grab whatever food and drinks you want before you follow me down the hall we can go over all of your job debriefing.”
The new hires didn’t take long to get up and around to join Mr. Finch as he escorted them down the hall to a conference room. Nicole followed close behind him with an unopened can of that Vernors soda that Beck was so excited about. In the conference room, there was already a man standing at the other end of the long conference table looking at an opened binder as everyone entered the room. The man looked a few years younger than Mr. Finch but held the same worn and serious sense about him.
“I’d like you all to meet Mike Stevens, the senior weapons master on the island.” Harold introduced the man to the group. “Mike… This is the new batch of security staff that just arrived a bit ago.”
“Nice to see you all made it here safe and sound.” Mr. Stevens smiled dryly and looked around at all of the new hires. “I’m sure I’ll have plenty of time to meet you guys face to face later, but right now we need to get some bullshit out of the way. So have yourselves a seat and Harold and I will run you through this slideshow corporate says we have to do.”
As they sat down, Mr. Finch closed the door and dimmed the lights before Mr. Stevens began. Soon the only source of light was the beam of a projector mounted to the ceiling.
“As Harold said a second ago: I’m Mike Stevens. I am the guy in charge of a good portion of keeping all of our equipment up in good condition. This includes pretty much all of the weapons, vests, and whatever security detail gear you all get to carry around. I also handle the maintenance schedules on the few dedicated vehicles that we have for our use only.” He explained. “I have been on this island just about as long as Mr. Finch so I know what you guys will deal with on a day to day basis. So if you have any questions you can bring them to me. If I am not present, then you can get ahold of Finch.” He paused for a second. “Sorry. I’m getting ahead of myself…”
He looked down and fumbled with a little remote. A picture swiped on the projector screen to show a pair of men in blue security uniforms, one was with a bulletproof vest and helmet while the other had only a utility belt and multi-pocket jacket. The words ‘InGen Security. Direct. Alert. Safe.’ were between the two people. The picture was only there for a few seconds before he shifted through several slides that had hardly any information on them.
“Something something, ‘welcome to Isla Sorna.’ Sorry. I hate these things.” Mr. Stevens shook his head disinterested as he stopped the projector on an outline of the island, detailed with locations and colored in sectors over most of the map. The majority of the map was highlighted in blue, whereas places around obvious locations and main routes were in a deep green. “Alright! Yeah. This is Isla Sorna. Your new home. Pretty much our job is to patrol, police, and protect all the facilities and personnel on this island from saboteurs, the elements, the wildlife, and themselves. We essentially are the Island’s Police.” He paused before pointing at the map with a finger in a waving motion. “Our main jurisdiction is up here in the green and the blue… We pretty much don’t go into the blue regions other than occasional trail scouting… But even then, any of you would be ride-alongs with maintenance trucks if you were out doing that.” The man paused to take a breath as he flipped slides.
“What is in the blue region?” Tony dared ask.
Mr. Stevens jerked slightly at the question. “Excuse me?”
“Well, it’s most of the island.” Tony pointed out obviously. “So is it just an empty jungle island? Or did you guys find ancient aliens here or something…” Tony asked, seemingly almost trying to get a rise from the other guys.
Mr. Stevens turned to face them with a slight frown on his face. “Listen, kid... You can sit there and make jokes all you want, but you wouldn’t last a day out on the island.”
Tony was about to make a snarky remark when Mr. Finch spoke up. “It would be best to keep all questions for the end of our process here. Write them down if you must… You did all sign those waivers before you left the mainland.” He explained calmly. “Go on, Mike.”
Mr. Stevens lightly straightened himself before turning back to the board. “Anyway… So I was about to get into a bit of somehow even more boring things. Procedures and protocols…”
At this point, Nicole zoned out slightly. She paid as much attention as needed, but a lot of the things that he was going over were included with the hefty handbook that they had all sent out to them once they had signed their initial contracts. It was much like the mainland; so many little rules and laws and tips for everything. Covering everything from how long to allow compliance to the company speak of the ‘zero’ tolerance of everything, though this far from civilization she really doubted some of it was followed as well as the booklet had implied. Apparently she had somehow heard that the CEO of the entire company, Mr. John Hammond, lived on site. She would have to really gauge to feel the environment and what was really the means of staying in good standings. She was sort of brought back into full focus as Mr. Stevens was wrapping up a section actually talking about how security was supposed to handle vehicle pursuits of fleeing personnel.
“Now does anyone know what a ‘Pit’ maneuver is?” Mr. Stevens asked.
They all kind of nodded.
“Have any of you ever performed one or been in a vehicle on the receiving one?”
Nicole nodded alone.
Mr. Stevens kinda shot her a look. “Have you now?”
“My father is law enforcement, sir. He taught me a lot growing up.” She answered.
“Probably cause he had nothing else going on,” Tony muttered low under his breath, getting a slight chuckle from Brian. “Probably some small-town cop.” He said to the other.
Nicole shot him a look to say something before she saw Mr. Finch leaned forward in his chair behind the two to correct them. “Her father is a Texas Ranger.” He said simply, shutting them up quickly. “Show some respect, boys… Please.” He spoke with a firm, yet somehow not fully scolding tone; like a disappointed father.
Mr. Stevens cleared his throat softly and continued. “We have a rotation here that cycles steadily around all of the facilities on the island so that our entire security staff can learn all the areas of Isla Sorna. There are a few very high-security posts in some places but those are usually manned by veteran security team members.” He explained with a sigh. “Now… If there is nothing else… That is it for this slide show… Do any of you have any questions?” He glanced around the room for a second.
Dane raised his hand lightly. “What is in the ‘blue region?’?” He asked with the intent of stealing some of Tony’s thunder.
“Unfortunately that stuff is classified until later this evening. We have a few more things to go through before we tell you specifics.” Mr. Stevens answered and looked around once more. “Anything else? No? Alright. Cool. Now we can go do all of your firearm evaluation.”
Mr. Finch stood up with a sigh. “Well. As Mike just said, now that the orientation slideshow is done, he will take you further East to the firing range.” He explained. “I have to stay here and do some things… You got them from here, Mike?”
“Yup yup.” Mr. Stevens nodded. “Alright, kids… Come with me.”
Mr. Stevens quickly left the room and led the group back out the front doors of the building and back around towards the rear of the building to where the helicopter had landed. They loaded themselves into a gray M35a2 Troop Truck and soon were rumbling eastward. Tony, Brian, and James sat near the back and seemed a bit excited about riding in a military truck, though Nicole and the other two seemed less entertained by it; This was not Nicole’s first time riding in one of these M35’s, not by a long shot.
Dane had sat across from Nicole and had given her a curious look once they were going. “So a Texas Ranger, huh?” He asked.
“Yup.” Nicole nodded slightly, not entirely interested in conversation, but she didn’t mind a few questions.
“Does your family have a few other LEOs in it?”
“Yeah… Grandparents on my dad’s side were all city cops… Few of my cousins too… but that’s it.” She answered, trying to give an attempt since he had been respectable so far.
“Cool…”
“Mhmm.”
“So if I may ask… Why did you take this job? Sounds like you would have had a good setup to be a cop too.”
Nicole kind of chuckled. “I have my reasons.”
Dane shrugged lightheartedly. “That’s fine enough I suppose. What did it in for you do you think?”
“Well…” Nicole exhaled dramatically, instinctively calming herself mid-conversation. “I hate people.” She chuckled a bit.
Dane nodded and chuckled with her. “Hey. I get that absolutely. I am going to miss the great ‘Alaskan Isolation.’”
“Well fuck that. You crazy bastards enjoy your cold too much.” Nicole waved her hand at him.
Dane laughed harder. “That we do… I am surprised I am not melting away down here in the tropics. I am sure it will hit me though.”
Nicole smiled slightly and shook her head.
“Well, either way… I am sure we will have plenty of private time on this island.”
“I hope so…” He sighed. “Anyway... Don’t let me bother you.” He said, nodding her and leaving her to herself.
The rest of the ride, while rather short, was uneventful. The truck came to a stop at a small fenced off complex. As they hopped out, they could see there was a pair of small buildings next to a single radio tower. Beyond the buildings were two perpendicular sections that looked like different styles of shooting ranges. One seemed to be a conventional series of shooting lanes, and the other looked like a tactical range. Before they could get too comfortable, Mr. Stevens was ordering them to follow him towards the ranges. They walked downhill to the shooting lanes and into a small covered area with several tables and racks set up with all sorts of guns, ammo, and shooting equipment. Nicole noticed that there were several M16 rifles in the racks with triangular front grips, at a glance she was pretty sure that they were Vietnam Era rifles. She hoped she could mess with one of those; she did rather love her guns, being from Texas and all. Mr. Stevens then had them all line up after giving them protective eyes and ears.
“Now I know that you guys have all done competency tests for InGen before coming here, but we have to do an in-house check to make sure that none of you lost yourselves from the flight and whatnot.” Mr. Stevens spoke loudly, pacing back and forth in front of the group. “Now behind me is just a set of basic straight-shooting lanes. The marks down the side of each of the lanes are for 10, 25, and 50 yards. We are not doing a super crazy evaluation of accuracy at this time, but rather a competency test. This is not a competition. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir!” The group replied as a whole.
“Now... These are the two more common weapons we staff our security with on the island.” Mr. Stevens said as he moved to a nearby table with a lineup of several similar weapons. He picked up a grey shotgun and presented the weapon towards them to see all the while keeping it pointed in a safe direction. “This is a Remington 1100 series,” he said loudly. “We have plenty of these in the armory for you guys to use. These are a Semi-Automatic shotgun. Meaning that for each pull of your booger pickers, you shoot one bullet. These have been modified to have a bolt release on the side of them just like an old Browning Auto 5. If you don’t know what a Browning Auto 5 is then I suggest you go back home and ask your parents why they failed at raising you right.” He said, smirking slightly.
Nicole hid a smirk from forming. She was reminded of her days in Basic, getting talked down to by drill instructors and such. She immediately figured that Mr. Stevens must have been one, or been very close to a few to have picked up this style of ‘educating.’
“Running these are simple as can be. Pull the bolt back and lock it open like so.” He said as he visually showed how it works. “You fill the tube with shells in here like every shotgun ever made after the turn of the century, and then you hit this button right here.” He lightly pushed the button on the side, releasing the bolt to loudly clamp closed. “This little button over here behind the trigger is the safety. Are you all following me, kids?” He asked, looking at them.
They again gave their ‘yes sir’s.
“Good! Now, before we go any further: if you are ever on duty in which you are in the populated or work areas like the lab facilities or the towns on the island you do not carry any firearm what-so-ever with a round in the chamber. If you are on a trail, perimeter, gate, or open patrol you can do whatever the hell you want as long as you do it safely.” Mr. Stevens explained quickly as he set the shotgun down on the table in exchange for one of the other weapons. He turned back to them as had had before but this time with one of the rifles. “Can anyone tell me what this is?”
“An M16, sir!” One of the new-hires answered excitedly.
“That is god-damn right!” Mr. Stevens shouted back. “This is a Colt M16A1. These are the main workhorse of our security teams. These ones specifically are the older ones, and while we are starting to get a few batches of the ‘neutered’ A2, we hand these out to everyone who can prove they can handle the weight of having a fully automatic machine gun. Have any of you shot or even held one of these things before?” He answered.
There were a one or two nods no, but the rest of the new hires answered yes, Nicole included.
“Alright.” Mr. Stevens sighed dramatically. “As scary as these are they are not difficult to operate. They were designed to be a light rifle cartridge that was simple enough to train anyone old enough to beat off to become proficient in using them. They even let those crayon eating Marines use them, so you guys will be just fine.”
Nicole chuckled slightly at that.
“Now. These are as simple as the Remington I just showed you.” He assured them. “You take your magazine and you firmly put it in this hole down here in front of the trigger. Make sure it is firm or you will drop your magazine line an idiot, and no one wants that.” He explained, showing them with an empty magazine. “Once your magazine is firmly seated, you pull back the charging handle as such and then let it go.” He did so, but while he released the lever on the rear of the receiver, nothing seemed to happen. “Now what just happened was that, since the weapon and magazine are empty the bolt didn’t go forward. Just like the Remington, you have to go to the other side of the gun and hit this release button. That will drop the bolt forward.” He turned the gun around and did so; the bolt closed loudly as it clamped forward. “Do you all understand?”
Again they nodded.
“Good. On the side where your right thumb is will be the safety switch. There is Safe, Single Fire, and Full Auto. For starters I want you guys to only use single fire today. We will do an additional test at a later time to see if you guys can handle that. So that means if I see any of you fire in full auto or mishandle any of these Colts I will personally call Eugene Stoner down here to skin your asses! Do you all got that?!” He shouted to retain their attentiveness.
Once they had answered with another series of ‘yes sir’, he set the weapon down on the table and invited them all closer. He started everyone off by teaching and having them begin to load several dozens of magazines for the rifles while he continued to give them a lecture on what they needed to make sure of and tips on shooting better. Once they had loaded several magazines for everyone, he had them go set up several paper targets at various ranges. After everything was set up, Mr. Stevens instructed everyone to take one of the Remingtons and a few boxes of shotgun shells.
“Now remember what I said before. Pull the bolt back, load, and then release the bolt. Turn your safeties off and take your time and get to know these guys.” Mr. Stevens instructed them as he stepped back from the lanes. “If any of you need help, but the safety on and set the weapon down with the barrel facing downrange. I’ll be right over.” He paused as everyone visible got situated. “Range is hot! Feel free to shoot, kids!” He yelled.
Nicole had taken the furthest lane to the right, wanting to keep at least one of her sides free of other people. She slid a pair of gloves out of her pocket and put them on quickly and opened the box of shotgun shells. Light load three-inch slugs. She hummed as she loaded the shotgun in her hands until it was full. She pressed the bolt release and readied herself to shoot. Flipping the safety off, she pulled the shotgun against her shoulder and leveled the ring sights down range towards one of the 25-yard markers on her lane.
When she pulled the trigger, the barrel lifted up and the weapon kicked back slightly against her as the slug sailed down range towards her target. The gun had been a little jarring for a second to her; while she had shot plenty of shotguns in her life, it had been years since she had fired shotgun slugs. These were lighter loads and paired with the cushiony rubber buttstock pad, it was nothing for her, just a tad jumpier than she initially expected. She paused for a second to reposition herself better and then continued to send round after round downrange.
After a while, she had fired several boxes of shotgun slugs, and at 25 shells per box, she had lost count after a hundred or so. Her shoulder was beginning to get a tad sore but nothing serious. Sustained firing with any shotgun always sort of sucked the morning after. By that time she had noticed that a few of the others were now firing the rifles. Mr. Stevens had been going around and swapping them out for the M16 rifles as he saw fit. While she waited for him to come to her lane, she had been reliably pounding one of the steel plate targets out at 50 yards with 12 gauge slugs. She had caught her groove with the loads and shotgun and was just enjoying herself. Eventually, Mr. Stevens tapped her lightly on the shoulder.
“How are you holding up down here, Walker??” He asked loudly over the noises of the range.
She gave him a firm thumbs up and nod.
“You’re doing a hell of a job down here with that 12 Gauge.”
“Thank you, sir!” She answered.
“Are you ready for the M16?”
“Yes please.”
“Alright. Let me get that.” He said, taking the shotgun from her carefully and setting on a nearby rack before bringing back one of the M16A1s to her. He handed it to her and then set a box of loaded magazines next to her on her lane table. “Enjoy yourself. Remember! No Full Auto!” He instructed again and tapped her shoulder once again, letting her know to continue on.
Nicole took a second to inspect the rifle. While she had seen plenty of A1 rifles, she had only fired the A2. They were extremely similar, however, the M16A2 was the replacement for the generation 1 Vietnam M16 rifles. The biggest drawback, especially shared heavily by military service members, was the removal of full-auto capability. It was the military’s attempts to make the weapons more accurate, by taking the power from the user and only firing in bursts. It worked in the field, but the lack of laying large volleys of rifle rounds was a very missed feature of the M16. In short, she would do her best to not flip the ‘giggle’ switch on.
Stay professional, Nicole. She thought. Calm down. It’s only one of the most exciting rifles you haven’t played with.
She exhaled to calm herself before she began to fire quick single fire shots. After a magazine or two to get reacquainted with the M16 platform, she was building up speed as she threw rounds very controlled and tightly grouped even down to the 50-yard plates. These rifles absolutely excelled at that range and had very little recoil compared to other guns. For her, it was a breeze, and she very much enjoyed the many magazines she had to waste. After a good bit of time, she felt another tap on her shoulder. Once again it was Mr. Stevens.
“Sir?” She lowered the gun on safe and looked back at him.
“Where did you learn to shoot, Walker?” He asked with great interest.
“United States Army, Sir!” She said proudly.
Mr. Stevens smirked slightly. “I figured.” He nodded. “Good to see more vets here, ma’am.”
Nicole nodded slightly at him.
“We are going to stop and reload soon. So finish up over here.”
“Of course!”
“Carry on! De Oppresso Liber!” He smiled and let her be for a bit longer.
Once she had used most of the magazines in the box next to her, Mr. Stevens stopped everyone and had them return to the tables in the back of the firing lanes to go over some things but mostly to reload the magazines of the M16s for more shooting.
“You guys all shoot pretty good… I have to admit it.” Mr. Stevens said, nodding his head slightly as he stuffed cartridge after cartridge into the magazine in his hand. “What did you think of the shotgun slugs?”
“They hurt...” Brian grumbled lightly.
Nicole kind of agreed.
Mr. Stevens chuckled. “And those are the low recoil ones. You guys will be carrying the full power load slugs when out and about.”
“Why are they standard-issue, sir?” Nicole spoke up, genuinely curious.
Mr. Stevens hummed slightly. “You will know in a few hours… But I can tell you that we have some very large and potentially dangerous game on this island. If anything should happen, we want to make sure we have the heaviest hitting stuff to put whatever down should the need arise.”
“What else would we be handling besides this?” She wondered aloud.
“Well… Nothing terribly crazy.” He shrugged. “We have a few 7.62 NATO weapons, as well as some African game rifles for the senior security members… Other than that? We have a couple of old Browning M2s and ‘Light 50’s locked up in some spots… but those are for if the reds decide to invade South America I suppose.” He chuckled.
Nicole hummed. Light 50s?? Jesus Christ. Maybe they do have Godzilla here. She thought.
“Speaking of large game…” Tony started up. “I’ve done plenty of hunting towards the Rockies… You know, I could teach you some things, Nicole.” He offered randomly. It was getting old even for the other trainees, evident by a communal exhale.
“And you think your knowledge of American big game hunting is going to help on this island?” Nicole said, finally giving a retort after listening to this guy try to ‘help’ her with everything for a week.
Her question seemed to make Tony pause for just a second before he smiled. “Well, you know. I was just saying I have a lot of experience handling guns like this stuff… Save for the M16… I could help you!”
“No thanks.” Nicole answered firmly. “I’m good.”
Tony huffed and went back to his magazine. “Just tryin’ to help you actually know how to shoot… But suit yourself.”
“That’s fuggin rich…” Dane said boldly in retaliation to the rude person, but before he could speak farther, Mr. Stevens raised his hand at them.
Mr. Stevens cleared his throat and looked over at Nicole “Do you want to run the tactical range, Walker?”
Nicole shot a quick look at him surprised. She nodded despite the unexpected request.
“Then grab two magazines and load up one of each of the guns.” He told her with a confident smile. “Go show them how it’s done.”
She didn’t need to be told twice. She quickly took two of the magazines and loaded up an M16 and one of the Remingtons from one of the nearby racks. Once she had gotten everything ready to go, she moved to the starting spot for the tactical range to wait.
“Alright! Everyone get your ears back on and get your asses over here to watch.” Mr. Stevens ordered. As everyone shuffled over, he took position by a switch on a nearby wall. Some dim red lights started flashing and a few basic targets in the obstacle range began to move back and forth. “Range is hot! Everyone watch yourselves!” He ordered loudly. “Walker! At the signal! Show them how us grunts get it done!”
With a shotgun in hand and the rifle over her shoulder, Nicole readied herself at the start line of the tactical range. She stared down the several targets moving back and forth across and from behind some basic plywood structures. Unlike the others with the security group, she by far had leagues of experience over any of them, and while it wasn’t fully professional, with Mr. Steven’s permission she would take this time to show off her capabilities with action. With the shotgun angled down in her firm grip, she widened her feet and leaned forward, readying herself.
Four left. Six center. Cover left. Three right. Four rear. She silently calculated to herself, grinning through controlled breaths. She had run hundreds of similar drills in the service and at home with her father; she knew exactly what she was doing.
“Go get’em, Tony Montana!”
An electronic bell sounded, and Nicole instantly snapped up the barrel of the shotgun at the closest center targets. With moving feet and taunt muscle memory, she fired the gun quickly as she moved towards the small mock brick wall two or so meters towards her forward left. With each blast of the shotgun, she swung the barrel, toggling quickly through the moving targets from left-center, and towards the right. By the time she had reached the wall, she had hit four of the center targets, and all three of the right targets. Each of her shots had hit their mark and the shotgun was now empty. She quickly slipped the shotgun over her back and pulled the M16A2 off her back. Quickly racking the charging handle, she spun left around the end of the wall and fired short bursts of automatic fire into each of the four left targets before switching to fire several single fire two shots at the rear targets in the back. She fired the remaining bullets into one of the last targets in the center as it slid on its track out from behind a mockup window. Ducking back into cover, she reloaded the M16 quickly, the empty magazine had barely hit the ground before she firmly smacked her second magazine into the weapon. She released the bolt with her left thumb and swung the barrel up at the final target in the center just as it slid out from behind a torn tarp. With a trained grip, she held the trigger, firing the entire magazine of the weapon into the center of the final target.
Despite the mag dump, her grouping was decent due to experience and her experience of recoil management. Once the weapon was emptied, she tilted the gun towards the left in her hands to make sure the chamber was clear of bullets. She pulled the magazine out of the weapon and carefully slipped it back over her shoulder and turned back to the group. While Mr. Stevens wouldn’t show too much excitement, it was obvious that even he had been impressed. As for the other’s in the trainee group, they had been left standing there in shock as they quickly realized that Nicole had a much tighter grip on what she was doing than they had thought. Unfortunately, she also would look past them to see a man who looked fresh out of a safari tour leaning against the rail that overlooked the range with a visible scowl.
Ignoring the new person for the moment, she would take her victory. She had figured she only had missed three or so rounds overall, so she was at least happy with herself. She checked the range real quick before picking up the first empty magazine she had dropped in the dirt before walking back to the range line.
“You really want to help?” She smirked towards Tony. “Then how about you load this for me.” She nodded slightly as she tossed the empty magazine right at Tony, who barely would catch the magazine.
‘For Those of The Five Deaths’
A Jurassic Park Fanfiction
Act I Chapter III
“Guard Duty”
Nicole brushed her hair past her eyes behind her ear as she looked down at the passing ocean below. The Agusta A-109A had been making a brisk pace from Nicaragua for some island cluster that she had heard from someone on the mainland as ‘Las Cinco Muertos,’ or ‘The Five Deaths’ in English. The guy at the hotel almost seemed spooked to talk about it, something about heavy conspiracies related to InGen and their government involvement with Costa Rica in preventing anyone outside of the company from getting anywhere near the island. Being from Texas she had learned a good amount of Spanish so she was able to pick up a decent bit of what the man was yapping about. She kinda chuckled about it in retrospect since the guy seemed to be talking about these islands like it some something out of King Kong or Godzilla or something; Either way, it was all stupid. Regardless of what legends she heard about InGen, she was on her way to work for their Security Division on their island. What sucked about the whole thing was that she had to uproot everything and move on-site on an island in the Pacific Ocean. However, they offered her a fantastic salary and besides: It was a Pacific Island near the Equator. How bad could it be?
“You think that this place is gonna have beaches, Brian?” One of the four men that had been hired on with her as a batch asked another.
“I mean sure.” Brian McGalleger, a Wisconsin native, answered as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt a bit. “Why the hell wouldn’t it? It’s an Island, Tony.”
“Well, not all islands have beaches, Brian?” The thinner man, Tony Himmel from Colorado, answered.
“And what Islands have you seen without beaches?” The man sitting directly across from Nicole asked.
“I don’t know… Manhattan?” Tony replied.
The eyes of the man across from him shot up humorously. “That doesn’t count.”
“I don’t care, Dane,” Tony said, throwing a hand up. “I just want to get to see all of us loose and chillin’ on the beach.”
Nicole, being the only woman in the group, could feel at least a few of their gazes move over to her. Typical. The ‘boys’ had been the worst part of the whole trip down here. Without saying a word, Nicole turned back to look at Tony with the most unenthused face she could give him with her arms crossed. She had learned very well in this man’s world that it paid to act and look as ‘bitchy’ as physically possible. Her look caused the three on the other side of the helicopter to grow quiet and uncertain. With just a look, she changed the whole atmosphere of the cabin and made them nearly squirm in their seats. After several seconds of them being quiet, Nicole went back to looking out the helicopter window at the water below.
Dane began to laugh. “You boys have a lot to learn about talking around ladies, don’t you?” He sighed. “Miss. Don’t worry about them… Now that we all have to for sure play nice together, I’ll do my best to help you keep them in line.”
“And who the hell are you to boss us around, huh?” Tony asked, trying to regain some confidence.
“Well… Here is the thing, Tony. Only one of us is scared of the other… And I can betcha that my lumberjack ass isn’t afraid of you, ya dinky city slicker.”
Nicole hummed at this softly. She really didn’t need Dane’s help, though she would admit that out of all of them, she hated him the least by far. From what she had heard in passing was that he was the son of some USAF couple that had lived near some base around Fairbanks, Alaska for years. She remembered him saying about growing tired of working for a logging company a few towns over and wanted to get into something less ‘exciting’ than being around falling trees and saws all day. He seemed like a nice enough guy overall, but she would have to see.
After more of a quiet ride, the helicopter passed to the far south of some island, and while they were a great distance away, the island’s green silhouette was breathtaking. That was Isla Nublar, which was the closest of six islands that were leased by InGen. They still had a bit to go if Nicole recalled on the maps she had glanced over the last few weeks. The helicopter would eventually begin to level out as it began its approach to the North edge of another island. Nicole leaned slightly to watch the helicopter pass over the shore and tree line before eventually seeing a group of large buildings in a clearing connected to a trio of docks. The helicopter came in nice and easy before settling down in a landing zone on the other side of the two warehouses, across from the docks. The helicopter began to power down and the doors were opened by one of the airmen.
Nicole was first to slide out onto the concrete; she had never been too fond of flying, so she was chomping at the bit to get to solid ground. Everyone piled out after her and they quickly moved away from the Helicopter as it began powering down. As they got to a safe distance, an older gentleman approached them from the nearest building. The man was wearing a dark blueish gray uniform and a medium-duty bulletproof vest with a holster on his hip. With a high and tight crew cut and his firm posture, Nicole could obviously see this guy was probably an old military guy.
“Good morning, Trainees!” The man spoke loudly over the still powering down Heli. “I hope the flight wasn’t too rough for you all…” He gave a welcome smile. “I am Harold Finch; the head of security on the Island. It’s nice to finally meet all of you! I’ve heard great things about you all from the security team in Kenya.” He told them
Nicole nodded slightly, she was the only one of the group who hadn’t been relocated to John Hammond’s animal preserve to train. She was just given a detailed protocol booklet and was told that her military service was enough for most that the others would have learned.
“Now anyway.” The man paused to cough twice slightly from the dust from the helicopter, covering his mouth. “Let’s get you all inside. We have to have a little debrief and introduce you all to some important people on the island. Grab your bags and come on this way.” He said with an inviting wave of the hand as he turned to walk towards the building.
Now that the helicopter had powered down, the crew had gotten out to start pulling their bags from the rear compartment of the aircraft to set them down near the open door. Nicole had packed two bags for the trip, one full of clothes, the other of a few other things including some emergency gear and a pistol that InGen had approved her to bring along with her. She went to grab her bags and hefted them from the floor of the helicopter.
“Do you need a hand with those?” Tony offered quickly once she had lowered her bags to her side and over her shoulder.
“Nope.” She replied tautly with a sigh as she stepped to the side so the others could grab their stuff.
Once they had all grabbed their bags, they made their way after Mr. Finch who was waiting around the corner of the building near the entrance.
“This is the Security Center for the Island. We do have stations at the headquarters building in the main town and further Southwest with the main vehicle garage, but this is where the base of operations is. It is here where we monitor all of the freight coming in and out of the island; this is the main port of entry after all.” He smiled and looked amongst them. “Either way…”
He opened the front door for the group to enter the lobby of the building. The lobby wasn’t too large, and the group filled up most of the occupational space other than the chairs and a small table to the left of the room. Behind a curved desk was an older lady with greying long hair who smiled as they walked in. While the woman had an almost thin and lanky look to her, behind her cup of coffee was the welcome smile of a southern grandmother.
“Diane… This is the new group of Trainees.” Harold smiled at her and sort of waved in their direction to introduce them.
“Howdy!” The woman lowered her cup and gave a little wave. “It’s nice to meet y’all!”
The group all kind of said hello back.
“Now if you will excuse me, I have to finish the conference call that was going on before you guy’s landed. So I'll have Diane take you guys to the breakroom. .” Mr. Finch said in a bit of a rush. “I’ll be back in a little bit... Should only be a few minutes.”
As Mr. Finch left the room, Diane stood from her desk with a sigh, coffee still in hand. “Oh don’t mind him… He just loves to have me take care of all his work…” The woman laughed lightly, clearly joking. “Follow me… The break room is right down the hall.” She said as she walked around her desk into the hallway to behind the wall her desk was at.
At the end of the hall towards the right was an open door that she led them too. Inside she stopped and turned to them. “Here y’all’s go. This spot should have any fixin’ y’alls need... If you need anything else I'll be right back there hunkered down at my desk with my coffee.’ She smiled and walked back down the hall; a rather quick introduction and exit.
The breakroom had quite an extensive catalog of snacks and drinks from US domestic and some local items from Costa Rica. On the other side of the room from the door, there was a pair of large sliding door refrigerators filled with all sorts of soda and cold snack foods like hard-boiled eggs and small wrapped sandwiches. Next to the fridges, there was a pair of coffee machines, an espresso machine, and a tea-pot station. On the other end of the counter was a wire rack full of sweets and other dry snacks along with a decent selection of oatmeal bowls and cereal boxes. Simply put: This place was loaded. Nicole had heard that the CEO’s motto was ‘spare no expense,’ but she had thought it was just corporate speak. This breakroom alone was better stocked than anywhere else she had seen, and she had toured the facilities of the Dallas Cowboys if that was any comparison. Most of them dropped their bags near the door and walked past the trio of tables and the several couches and lounge chairs to get a better look.
“Jesus Christ!” One of the others, Beck White from Northern Minnesota, exclaimed. “They have Vernors?” He said, pulling a green ginger ale can from one of the fridges.
Nicole had heard of that brand before, apparently, it was a big deal in the states around the Great Lakes. She soon forgot all about what everyone else was doing when her eyes glazed across a clear bottle full of red liquid; her eyes sparkled slightly as she read the words: ‘Big Red.’
“Son of a bitch…” She muttered under her breath as she reached in and took one of the bottles and opened it. She took a mouthful of the sweetest bubble-gum flavored soda. It had been a while since she had gotten her hands on it and it was as good as it always had been. Once she had gotten over the surprise of finding one of her favorite sodas, she browsed the dry snack collection and grabbed two bags of Tato Skins, one regular, one barbeque flavored. With food to nibble on, she walked into the lounge area to one of the chairs that she could keep her back to the corner to watch the room. Not that she was paranoid, but it was how she was taught at a younger age by her father; If you can put your back to the wall and watch the ways in and out, do it. Its best to have as much situational awareness when possible.
Nothing much happened for the next half an hour or so. The group had spread out around the break room. Beck, Brian, and Tony had gathered around one of the tables and were talking about cars or something with some magazines. Dane and another new hire by the name James Booth were chatting it up standing around the coffee machines, and the other guy named Brandon Miller was quietly reading a book; the Lonesome Dove, by Larry Murtry no less. A bit of a dry read in Nicole’s opinion but she wasn’t one to judge.
Eventually, Mr. Finch returned to the group from his office. “Hey. Sorry about that, guys and gals. Your flight landed sooner than I was expecting… I thought I had more time to finish up that call.” He explained with an almost tired sigh. “So… If you all want to grab whatever food and drinks you want before you follow me down the hall we can go over all of your job debriefing.”
The new hires didn’t take long to get up and around to join Mr. Finch as he escorted them down the hall to a conference room. Nicole followed close behind him with an unopened can of that Vernors soda that Beck was so excited about. In the conference room, there was already a man standing at the other end of the long conference table looking at an opened binder as everyone entered the room. The man looked a few years younger than Mr. Finch but held the same worn and serious sense about him.
“I’d like you all to meet Mike Stevens, the senior weapons master on the island.” Harold introduced the man to the group. “Mike… This is the new batch of security staff that just arrived a bit ago.”
“Nice to see you all made it here safe and sound.” Mr. Stevens smiled dryly and looked around at all of the new hires. “I’m sure I’ll have plenty of time to meet you guys face to face later, but right now we need to get some bullshit out of the way. So have yourselves a seat and Harold and I will run you through this slideshow corporate says we have to do.”
As they sat down, Mr. Finch closed the door and dimmed the lights before Mr. Stevens began. Soon the only source of light was the beam of a projector mounted to the ceiling.
“As Harold said a second ago: I’m Mike Stevens. I am the guy in charge of a good portion of keeping all of our equipment up in good condition. This includes pretty much all of the weapons, vests, and whatever security detail gear you all get to carry around. I also handle the maintenance schedules on the few dedicated vehicles that we have for our use only.” He explained. “I have been on this island just about as long as Mr. Finch so I know what you guys will deal with on a day to day basis. So if you have any questions you can bring them to me. If I am not present, then you can get ahold of Finch.” He paused for a second. “Sorry. I’m getting ahead of myself…”
He looked down and fumbled with a little remote. A picture swiped on the projector screen to show a pair of men in blue security uniforms, one was with a bulletproof vest and helmet while the other had only a utility belt and multi-pocket jacket. The words ‘InGen Security. Direct. Alert. Safe.’ were between the two people. The picture was only there for a few seconds before he shifted through several slides that had hardly any information on them.
“Something something, ‘welcome to Isla Sorna.’ Sorry. I hate these things.” Mr. Stevens shook his head disinterested as he stopped the projector on an outline of the island, detailed with locations and colored in sectors over most of the map. The majority of the map was highlighted in blue, whereas places around obvious locations and main routes were in a deep green. “Alright! Yeah. This is Isla Sorna. Your new home. Pretty much our job is to patrol, police, and protect all the facilities and personnel on this island from saboteurs, the elements, the wildlife, and themselves. We essentially are the Island’s Police.” He paused before pointing at the map with a finger in a waving motion. “Our main jurisdiction is up here in the green and the blue… We pretty much don’t go into the blue regions other than occasional trail scouting… But even then, any of you would be ride-alongs with maintenance trucks if you were out doing that.” The man paused to take a breath as he flipped slides.
“What is in the blue region?” Tony dared ask.
Mr. Stevens jerked slightly at the question. “Excuse me?”
“Well, it’s most of the island.” Tony pointed out obviously. “So is it just an empty jungle island? Or did you guys find ancient aliens here or something…” Tony asked, seemingly almost trying to get a rise from the other guys.
Mr. Stevens turned to face them with a slight frown on his face. “Listen, kid... You can sit there and make jokes all you want, but you wouldn’t last a day out on the island.”
Tony was about to make a snarky remark when Mr. Finch spoke up. “It would be best to keep all questions for the end of our process here. Write them down if you must… You did all sign those waivers before you left the mainland.” He explained calmly. “Go on, Mike.”
Mr. Stevens lightly straightened himself before turning back to the board. “Anyway… So I was about to get into a bit of somehow even more boring things. Procedures and protocols…”
At this point, Nicole zoned out slightly. She paid as much attention as needed, but a lot of the things that he was going over were included with the hefty handbook that they had all sent out to them once they had signed their initial contracts. It was much like the mainland; so many little rules and laws and tips for everything. Covering everything from how long to allow compliance to the company speak of the ‘zero’ tolerance of everything, though this far from civilization she really doubted some of it was followed as well as the booklet had implied. Apparently she had somehow heard that the CEO of the entire company, Mr. John Hammond, lived on site. She would have to really gauge to feel the environment and what was really the means of staying in good standings. She was sort of brought back into full focus as Mr. Stevens was wrapping up a section actually talking about how security was supposed to handle vehicle pursuits of fleeing personnel.
“Now does anyone know what a ‘Pit’ maneuver is?” Mr. Stevens asked.
They all kind of nodded.
“Have any of you ever performed one or been in a vehicle on the receiving one?”
Nicole nodded alone.
Mr. Stevens kinda shot her a look. “Have you now?”
“My father is law enforcement, sir. He taught me a lot growing up.” She answered.
“Probably cause he had nothing else going on,” Tony muttered low under his breath, getting a slight chuckle from Brian. “Probably some small-town cop.” He said to the other.
Nicole shot him a look to say something before she saw Mr. Finch leaned forward in his chair behind the two to correct them. “Her father is a Texas Ranger.” He said simply, shutting them up quickly. “Show some respect, boys… Please.” He spoke with a firm, yet somehow not fully scolding tone; like a disappointed father.
Mr. Stevens cleared his throat softly and continued. “We have a rotation here that cycles steadily around all of the facilities on the island so that our entire security staff can learn all the areas of Isla Sorna. There are a few very high-security posts in some places but those are usually manned by veteran security team members.” He explained with a sigh. “Now… If there is nothing else… That is it for this slide show… Do any of you have any questions?” He glanced around the room for a second.
Dane raised his hand lightly. “What is in the ‘blue region?’?” He asked with the intent of stealing some of Tony’s thunder.
“Unfortunately that stuff is classified until later this evening. We have a few more things to go through before we tell you specifics.” Mr. Stevens answered and looked around once more. “Anything else? No? Alright. Cool. Now we can go do all of your firearm evaluation.”
Mr. Finch stood up with a sigh. “Well. As Mike just said, now that the orientation slideshow is done, he will take you further East to the firing range.” He explained. “I have to stay here and do some things… You got them from here, Mike?”
“Yup yup.” Mr. Stevens nodded. “Alright, kids… Come with me.”
Mr. Stevens quickly left the room and led the group back out the front doors of the building and back around towards the rear of the building to where the helicopter had landed. They loaded themselves into a gray M35a2 Troop Truck and soon were rumbling eastward. Tony, Brian, and James sat near the back and seemed a bit excited about riding in a military truck, though Nicole and the other two seemed less entertained by it; This was not Nicole’s first time riding in one of these M35’s, not by a long shot.
Dane had sat across from Nicole and had given her a curious look once they were going. “So a Texas Ranger, huh?” He asked.
“Yup.” Nicole nodded slightly, not entirely interested in conversation, but she didn’t mind a few questions.
“Does your family have a few other LEOs in it?”
“Yeah… Grandparents on my dad’s side were all city cops… Few of my cousins too… but that’s it.” She answered, trying to give an attempt since he had been respectable so far.
“Cool…”
“Mhmm.”
“So if I may ask… Why did you take this job? Sounds like you would have had a good setup to be a cop too.”
Nicole kind of chuckled. “I have my reasons.”
Dane shrugged lightheartedly. “That’s fine enough I suppose. What did it in for you do you think?”
“Well…” Nicole exhaled dramatically, instinctively calming herself mid-conversation. “I hate people.” She chuckled a bit.
Dane nodded and chuckled with her. “Hey. I get that absolutely. I am going to miss the great ‘Alaskan Isolation.’”
“Well fuck that. You crazy bastards enjoy your cold too much.” Nicole waved her hand at him.
Dane laughed harder. “That we do… I am surprised I am not melting away down here in the tropics. I am sure it will hit me though.”
Nicole smiled slightly and shook her head.
“Well, either way… I am sure we will have plenty of private time on this island.”
“I hope so…” He sighed. “Anyway... Don’t let me bother you.” He said, nodding her and leaving her to herself.
The rest of the ride, while rather short, was uneventful. The truck came to a stop at a small fenced off complex. As they hopped out, they could see there was a pair of small buildings next to a single radio tower. Beyond the buildings were two perpendicular sections that looked like different styles of shooting ranges. One seemed to be a conventional series of shooting lanes, and the other looked like a tactical range. Before they could get too comfortable, Mr. Stevens was ordering them to follow him towards the ranges. They walked downhill to the shooting lanes and into a small covered area with several tables and racks set up with all sorts of guns, ammo, and shooting equipment. Nicole noticed that there were several M16 rifles in the racks with triangular front grips, at a glance she was pretty sure that they were Vietnam Era rifles. She hoped she could mess with one of those; she did rather love her guns, being from Texas and all. Mr. Stevens then had them all line up after giving them protective eyes and ears.
“Now I know that you guys have all done competency tests for InGen before coming here, but we have to do an in-house check to make sure that none of you lost yourselves from the flight and whatnot.” Mr. Stevens spoke loudly, pacing back and forth in front of the group. “Now behind me is just a set of basic straight-shooting lanes. The marks down the side of each of the lanes are for 10, 25, and 50 yards. We are not doing a super crazy evaluation of accuracy at this time, but rather a competency test. This is not a competition. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir!” The group replied as a whole.
“Now... These are the two more common weapons we staff our security with on the island.” Mr. Stevens said as he moved to a nearby table with a lineup of several similar weapons. He picked up a grey shotgun and presented the weapon towards them to see all the while keeping it pointed in a safe direction. “This is a Remington 1100 series,” he said loudly. “We have plenty of these in the armory for you guys to use. These are a Semi-Automatic shotgun. Meaning that for each pull of your booger pickers, you shoot one bullet. These have been modified to have a bolt release on the side of them just like an old Browning Auto 5. If you don’t know what a Browning Auto 5 is then I suggest you go back home and ask your parents why they failed at raising you right.” He said, smirking slightly.
Nicole hid a smirk from forming. She was reminded of her days in Basic, getting talked down to by drill instructors and such. She immediately figured that Mr. Stevens must have been one, or been very close to a few to have picked up this style of ‘educating.’
“Running these are simple as can be. Pull the bolt back and lock it open like so.” He said as he visually showed how it works. “You fill the tube with shells in here like every shotgun ever made after the turn of the century, and then you hit this button right here.” He lightly pushed the button on the side, releasing the bolt to loudly clamp closed. “This little button over here behind the trigger is the safety. Are you all following me, kids?” He asked, looking at them.
They again gave their ‘yes sir’s.
“Good! Now, before we go any further: if you are ever on duty in which you are in the populated or work areas like the lab facilities or the towns on the island you do not carry any firearm what-so-ever with a round in the chamber. If you are on a trail, perimeter, gate, or open patrol you can do whatever the hell you want as long as you do it safely.” Mr. Stevens explained quickly as he set the shotgun down on the table in exchange for one of the other weapons. He turned back to them as had had before but this time with one of the rifles. “Can anyone tell me what this is?”
“An M16, sir!” One of the new-hires answered excitedly.
“That is god-damn right!” Mr. Stevens shouted back. “This is a Colt M16A1. These are the main workhorse of our security teams. These ones specifically are the older ones, and while we are starting to get a few batches of the ‘neutered’ A2, we hand these out to everyone who can prove they can handle the weight of having a fully automatic machine gun. Have any of you shot or even held one of these things before?” He answered.
There were a one or two nods no, but the rest of the new hires answered yes, Nicole included.
“Alright.” Mr. Stevens sighed dramatically. “As scary as these are they are not difficult to operate. They were designed to be a light rifle cartridge that was simple enough to train anyone old enough to beat off to become proficient in using them. They even let those crayon eating Marines use them, so you guys will be just fine.”
Nicole chuckled slightly at that.
“Now. These are as simple as the Remington I just showed you.” He assured them. “You take your magazine and you firmly put it in this hole down here in front of the trigger. Make sure it is firm or you will drop your magazine line an idiot, and no one wants that.” He explained, showing them with an empty magazine. “Once your magazine is firmly seated, you pull back the charging handle as such and then let it go.” He did so, but while he released the lever on the rear of the receiver, nothing seemed to happen. “Now what just happened was that, since the weapon and magazine are empty the bolt didn’t go forward. Just like the Remington, you have to go to the other side of the gun and hit this release button. That will drop the bolt forward.” He turned the gun around and did so; the bolt closed loudly as it clamped forward. “Do you all understand?”
Again they nodded.
“Good. On the side where your right thumb is will be the safety switch. There is Safe, Single Fire, and Full Auto. For starters I want you guys to only use single fire today. We will do an additional test at a later time to see if you guys can handle that. So that means if I see any of you fire in full auto or mishandle any of these Colts I will personally call Eugene Stoner down here to skin your asses! Do you all got that?!” He shouted to retain their attentiveness.
Once they had answered with another series of ‘yes sir’, he set the weapon down on the table and invited them all closer. He started everyone off by teaching and having them begin to load several dozens of magazines for the rifles while he continued to give them a lecture on what they needed to make sure of and tips on shooting better. Once they had loaded several magazines for everyone, he had them go set up several paper targets at various ranges. After everything was set up, Mr. Stevens instructed everyone to take one of the Remingtons and a few boxes of shotgun shells.
“Now remember what I said before. Pull the bolt back, load, and then release the bolt. Turn your safeties off and take your time and get to know these guys.” Mr. Stevens instructed them as he stepped back from the lanes. “If any of you need help, but the safety on and set the weapon down with the barrel facing downrange. I’ll be right over.” He paused as everyone visible got situated. “Range is hot! Feel free to shoot, kids!” He yelled.
Nicole had taken the furthest lane to the right, wanting to keep at least one of her sides free of other people. She slid a pair of gloves out of her pocket and put them on quickly and opened the box of shotgun shells. Light load three-inch slugs. She hummed as she loaded the shotgun in her hands until it was full. She pressed the bolt release and readied herself to shoot. Flipping the safety off, she pulled the shotgun against her shoulder and leveled the ring sights down range towards one of the 25-yard markers on her lane.
When she pulled the trigger, the barrel lifted up and the weapon kicked back slightly against her as the slug sailed down range towards her target. The gun had been a little jarring for a second to her; while she had shot plenty of shotguns in her life, it had been years since she had fired shotgun slugs. These were lighter loads and paired with the cushiony rubber buttstock pad, it was nothing for her, just a tad jumpier than she initially expected. She paused for a second to reposition herself better and then continued to send round after round downrange.
After a while, she had fired several boxes of shotgun slugs, and at 25 shells per box, she had lost count after a hundred or so. Her shoulder was beginning to get a tad sore but nothing serious. Sustained firing with any shotgun always sort of sucked the morning after. By that time she had noticed that a few of the others were now firing the rifles. Mr. Stevens had been going around and swapping them out for the M16 rifles as he saw fit. While she waited for him to come to her lane, she had been reliably pounding one of the steel plate targets out at 50 yards with 12 gauge slugs. She had caught her groove with the loads and shotgun and was just enjoying herself. Eventually, Mr. Stevens tapped her lightly on the shoulder.
“How are you holding up down here, Walker??” He asked loudly over the noises of the range.
She gave him a firm thumbs up and nod.
“You’re doing a hell of a job down here with that 12 Gauge.”
“Thank you, sir!” She answered.
“Are you ready for the M16?”
“Yes please.”
“Alright. Let me get that.” He said, taking the shotgun from her carefully and setting on a nearby rack before bringing back one of the M16A1s to her. He handed it to her and then set a box of loaded magazines next to her on her lane table. “Enjoy yourself. Remember! No Full Auto!” He instructed again and tapped her shoulder once again, letting her know to continue on.
Nicole took a second to inspect the rifle. While she had seen plenty of A1 rifles, she had only fired the A2. They were extremely similar, however, the M16A2 was the replacement for the generation 1 Vietnam M16 rifles. The biggest drawback, especially shared heavily by military service members, was the removal of full-auto capability. It was the military’s attempts to make the weapons more accurate, by taking the power from the user and only firing in bursts. It worked in the field, but the lack of laying large volleys of rifle rounds was a very missed feature of the M16. In short, she would do her best to not flip the ‘giggle’ switch on.
Stay professional, Nicole. She thought. Calm down. It’s only one of the most exciting rifles you haven’t played with.
She exhaled to calm herself before she began to fire quick single fire shots. After a magazine or two to get reacquainted with the M16 platform, she was building up speed as she threw rounds very controlled and tightly grouped even down to the 50-yard plates. These rifles absolutely excelled at that range and had very little recoil compared to other guns. For her, it was a breeze, and she very much enjoyed the many magazines she had to waste. After a good bit of time, she felt another tap on her shoulder. Once again it was Mr. Stevens.
“Sir?” She lowered the gun on safe and looked back at him.
“Where did you learn to shoot, Walker?” He asked with great interest.
“United States Army, Sir!” She said proudly.
Mr. Stevens smirked slightly. “I figured.” He nodded. “Good to see more vets here, ma’am.”
Nicole nodded slightly at him.
“We are going to stop and reload soon. So finish up over here.”
“Of course!”
“Carry on! De Oppresso Liber!” He smiled and let her be for a bit longer.
Once she had used most of the magazines in the box next to her, Mr. Stevens stopped everyone and had them return to the tables in the back of the firing lanes to go over some things but mostly to reload the magazines of the M16s for more shooting.
“You guys all shoot pretty good… I have to admit it.” Mr. Stevens said, nodding his head slightly as he stuffed cartridge after cartridge into the magazine in his hand. “What did you think of the shotgun slugs?”
“They hurt...” Brian grumbled lightly.
Nicole kind of agreed.
Mr. Stevens chuckled. “And those are the low recoil ones. You guys will be carrying the full power load slugs when out and about.”
“Why are they standard-issue, sir?” Nicole spoke up, genuinely curious.
Mr. Stevens hummed slightly. “You will know in a few hours… But I can tell you that we have some very large and potentially dangerous game on this island. If anything should happen, we want to make sure we have the heaviest hitting stuff to put whatever down should the need arise.”
“What else would we be handling besides this?” She wondered aloud.
“Well… Nothing terribly crazy.” He shrugged. “We have a few 7.62 NATO weapons, as well as some African game rifles for the senior security members… Other than that? We have a couple of old Browning M2s and ‘Light 50’s locked up in some spots… but those are for if the reds decide to invade South America I suppose.” He chuckled.
Nicole hummed. Light 50s?? Jesus Christ. Maybe they do have Godzilla here. She thought.
“Speaking of large game…” Tony started up. “I’ve done plenty of hunting towards the Rockies… You know, I could teach you some things, Nicole.” He offered randomly. It was getting old even for the other trainees, evident by a communal exhale.
“And you think your knowledge of American big game hunting is going to help on this island?” Nicole said, finally giving a retort after listening to this guy try to ‘help’ her with everything for a week.
Her question seemed to make Tony pause for just a second before he smiled. “Well, you know. I was just saying I have a lot of experience handling guns like this stuff… Save for the M16… I could help you!”
“No thanks.” Nicole answered firmly. “I’m good.”
Tony huffed and went back to his magazine. “Just tryin’ to help you actually know how to shoot… But suit yourself.”
“That’s fuggin rich…” Dane said boldly in retaliation to the rude person, but before he could speak farther, Mr. Stevens raised his hand at them.
Mr. Stevens cleared his throat and looked over at Nicole “Do you want to run the tactical range, Walker?”
Nicole shot a quick look at him surprised. She nodded despite the unexpected request.
“Then grab two magazines and load up one of each of the guns.” He told her with a confident smile. “Go show them how it’s done.”
She didn’t need to be told twice. She quickly took two of the magazines and loaded up an M16 and one of the Remingtons from one of the nearby racks. Once she had gotten everything ready to go, she moved to the starting spot for the tactical range to wait.
“Alright! Everyone get your ears back on and get your asses over here to watch.” Mr. Stevens ordered. As everyone shuffled over, he took position by a switch on a nearby wall. Some dim red lights started flashing and a few basic targets in the obstacle range began to move back and forth. “Range is hot! Everyone watch yourselves!” He ordered loudly. “Walker! At the signal! Show them how us grunts get it done!”
With a shotgun in hand and the rifle over her shoulder, Nicole readied herself at the start line of the tactical range. She stared down the several targets moving back and forth across and from behind some basic plywood structures. Unlike the others with the security group, she by far had leagues of experience over any of them, and while it wasn’t fully professional, with Mr. Steven’s permission she would take this time to show off her capabilities with action. With the shotgun angled down in her firm grip, she widened her feet and leaned forward, readying herself.
Four left. Six center. Cover left. Three right. Four rear. She silently calculated to herself, grinning through controlled breaths. She had run hundreds of similar drills in the service and at home with her father; she knew exactly what she was doing.
“Go get’em, Tony Montana!”
An electronic bell sounded, and Nicole instantly snapped up the barrel of the shotgun at the closest center targets. With moving feet and taunt muscle memory, she fired the gun quickly as she moved towards the small mock brick wall two or so meters towards her forward left. With each blast of the shotgun, she swung the barrel, toggling quickly through the moving targets from left-center, and towards the right. By the time she had reached the wall, she had hit four of the center targets, and all three of the right targets. Each of her shots had hit their mark and the shotgun was now empty. She quickly slipped the shotgun over her back and pulled the M16A2 off her back. Quickly racking the charging handle, she spun left around the end of the wall and fired short bursts of automatic fire into each of the four left targets before switching to fire several single fire two shots at the rear targets in the back. She fired the remaining bullets into one of the last targets in the center as it slid on its track out from behind a mockup window. Ducking back into cover, she reloaded the M16 quickly, the empty magazine had barely hit the ground before she firmly smacked her second magazine into the weapon. She released the bolt with her left thumb and swung the barrel up at the final target in the center just as it slid out from behind a torn tarp. With a trained grip, she held the trigger, firing the entire magazine of the weapon into the center of the final target.
Despite the mag dump, her grouping was decent due to experience and her experience of recoil management. Once the weapon was emptied, she tilted the gun towards the left in her hands to make sure the chamber was clear of bullets. She pulled the magazine out of the weapon and carefully slipped it back over her shoulder and turned back to the group. While Mr. Stevens wouldn’t show too much excitement, it was obvious that even he had been impressed. As for the other’s in the trainee group, they had been left standing there in shock as they quickly realized that Nicole had a much tighter grip on what she was doing than they had thought. Unfortunately, she also would look past them to see a man who looked fresh out of a safari tour leaning against the rail that overlooked the range with a visible scowl.
Ignoring the new person for the moment, she would take her victory. She had figured she only had missed three or so rounds overall, so she was at least happy with herself. She checked the range real quick before picking up the first empty magazine she had dropped in the dirt before walking back to the range line.
“You really want to help?” She smirked towards Tony. “Then how about you load this for me.” She nodded slightly as she tossed the empty magazine right at Tony, who barely would catch the magazine.
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