ISLAND OF KAUAI, HAWAII

“Hey JJ, you got someone in to see you.”

I smiled at Hector. “Thanks, Hector, send them in.”

A moment later, two very gorgeous women walked into my office. It wasn’t my birthday, so I’m assuming they’re clients. One was blonde in a blue pantsuit, and the other was a redhead in a designer dress.

“How can I help you, ladies?”

The one in the pantsuit stepped forward. “I’m Silvia Mason and this is Sheryl Connor. Our husbands went on a hunting trip together and we haven’t heard from them in over a week,”

“I’m assuming you contacted missing persons first?” I asked her.

“We know where they are, but no one will get them.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And why is that?”

“They’re on the island of Isla Sorna.”

Understanding dawned then. I ran my hand through my hair. “I know the island. So, I take it you want me to bring them back for you?”

They both nodded their heads at me. “Money is no consequence.” Ms. Mason said she made out a seven-figure check. No surprise I took the job. I saw a pattern here. I wondered just how many people I’d end up saving from dinosaurs.

I suppose it doesn’t matter if we kept getting paid this much. Sorna was much bigger than Nublar and it didn’t have roads we could follow. I was going to need to find someone to be my guide.

MOMBASA, KENYA, EAST AFRICA

The little bar in Mombasa was the only place I could think to search for my guide. He was an old friend of the family. I knew him as a child when my father was still alive. He sat at a table with a bottle of whiskey and an open book. I approached him from behind, but before I could say a word, he turned around to face me.

“JJ? Is that you?”

He surprised a laugh out of me, and I hugged him. “It’s good to see you, Uncle Roland.” I sat across from him and he poured me a glass. “How did you know it was me?”

“I remember your mother made those homemade soaps, and you smell just like them.” He laughed and clinked his glass against mine. “What brings you home? Tired of Hawaii?”

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I laughed and downed some of the whiskey. “No, I run a private relief organization called Soaring Star. I’m here because I need your help, Uncle. Some years back, I know you went to Isla Sorna with INGEN. Well, some big game hunters went to Sorna and their wives want me to bring them back. You’ve been there before, you know the island. I have a better shot of finding them with your help.”

He took a minute to process my words, then sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, my boy. Truly I am, but I can’t go back there. But I do know a man that can help you. He knows the island as well as I do. His name is Taylor Callahan. You’ll find him in San Antonio these days.” He scribbled down an address on a note of paper for me. “I hope you find them and I’m sorry I can’t be of help.”

I smiled and shook his hand. “It’s okay Uncle Roland. I know you lost your friend there. I’ll come back again. We’ll have ourselves some steak.”

We stood, and I hugged him before I left. I knew it was a long shot. After the death of his best friend Ajay Sidhu, Roland Tembo hadn’t been the same. This had been the first time in years since I saw him. He was family, so I kept tabs on him just in case.

I took the first international flight out of Kenya and returned to the states. San Antonio, Texas, wasn’t my favorite city. To put it mildly, they built the city with kid scribbles and kept adding to it. The traffic was horrible. The roads were confused by the time I found Callahan. I was ready to kill someone.

I shouldn’t have been surprised to find him in a bar. To be fair, it was a large place called Cowboys Dance hall. Inside was a large dance floor with several bars and vendors selling alcohol and food. They were even hosting a rodeo. That’s where I found him. The announcer's voice echoed through the room.

“Riding next, It’s Taylor Callahan on Jaspers Folly!”

I watched in horror as Callahan mounted a bull and griped the flat braided rope, securing a good grip on the rope, and then nodded to signal he was ready. The bucking chute, a small enclosure where the bull is mounted, opened, and the bull stormed out into the arena. Callahan must attempt to stay on the bull for at least eight seconds, while only touching the bull with their riding hand. This was going to be the longest eight seconds of my life. If he got himself killed, I’d be screwed. Must remain free for the duration of the ride.

The bull bucked, reared, kicked, spun, and twisted to throw Callahan off. A loud buzzer or whistle announces the completion of the eight-second ride. Callahan dismounted and ran for the gate, hopping up and away from the Bull.

The place was echoing with cheers. It was a deafening roar. If nothing else, Callahan dares to do the job. With any luck, he’d have the willingness to help. I waited around till after the event to approach him. He wore blue jeans stuffed into steel toe boots, a black button-down shirt opened at the neck, and a black Stetson on his head. He sat on the curb finishing off a cigarette.

“Troy Callahan?”

He looked up at me. “Depends on who’s asking.”

“JJ Muldoon. You know my uncle Roland Tembo?”

He raised his eyes at me. “Old Roland? How the hell is he?”

“He’s good. He recommended you for a job. I need a guide. A couple of Hunters got themselves lost on Isla Sorna and Roland says you’re the man for the job.”

I watched Callahan take a long drag of his cigarette and exhale the smoke before answering. “Sounds fun.”

Callahan had some crazy in him. I needed some crazy for this job. “Meet me at the Juan Santamaria International Airport in San Jose.” I handed him a plane ticket I purchased just in case. “I can’t guarantee you’ll make it back, so get your affairs in order first.”

Callahan looked at me then. “I already did.”