Nick and Eddie march quickly back toward their base camp, their energy and excitement palpable. Malcolm is furious, however, and is in an argument with Sarah. Behind them is (Y/N) and Jasmine as they lessen to Sarah and Malcolm.

Malcolm: When Hammond called you, why didn't you say something to me?!

Sarah: Because you would have tried to stop me from coming.

Malcolm: I would have tied you to the bed!

Nick: (a salacious mutter) Me too.

Sarah: I figured out how the animals survived without lysine.

Malcolm: I don't care.

Sarah: (continuing anyway) If you look at the diets of the herbivore species that are thriving, they eat mostly agama beans, soy, anything lysine-rich. And the carnivores, well, they eat the herbi - -

Over his shoulder, Sarah sees Nick put a cigarette in his mouth.

Sarah: (cont'd) Don't light that. Dinosaurs can pick up scents from miles away. We're here to observe and document, not interact.

Malcolm: That's a scientific impossibility. Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle. Whatever you study, you also change.

Sarah: I'll risk it. I'm sick of scratching around in rock and bone and making guesses, deductions about the nurturing habits of animals that have been dead for sixty-five million years. Right or wrong, we're ridiculed because we can't prove anything, we can only make assumptions based on how modern day animals behave. It's frustrating, man. Then you show up and fill my head with stories for four years - -

Malcolm: Stories of mutilation and death! Weren't you paying attention?

Sarah: Please don't treat me like I'm some wide-eyed grad student, I've worked around predators since I was twenty years old. Lions, hyenas, jackals, you. They're obsessively territorial, and those territories are all in the interior of the island. The only other place they'll hunt is on the game trails. If we stay on the outer rim and off the game trails, we'll be fine.

Malcolm: They go wherever there's food! They have legs, you know, and on these legs they're known to walk.

Sarah: Could you make that a little more condescending?

Malcolm: Even run, on occasion.

Sarah: You know, I'm not sure I can listen to you right now without wanting to hit you.

Malcolm: Hit me on the way home. I'm taking you out of here.

Sarah: HEY.

Angry, she pulls him aside and lowers her voice. (Y/N) and Jasmine see this due to them being behind them, but they don't question it as they continue on.

Jasmine: What do you think they are talking about?

(Y/N): Don't know, don't care. But once we get back to base camp, you and I are going to have a talk.

With Malcolm and Sarah, shorty after Sarah pulled him aside.

Sarah: (cont'd) What is this? I've barely heard from you for three months, now you charge in here on a white horse - - you don't usually care what continent I'm on. What do you think you're doing?

Malcolm: You are deeply disturbed. Someone who loves you travels five thousand miles to tell you your life is in danger and you're actually suspicious.

Sarah: You love me?

Malcolm: You don't have any money, there must be some reason I'm hanging around.

Sarah: Why didn't you ever say so, Shithead?

Malcolm: I did. In the hospital. In Costa Rica.

Sarah: You were on painkillers. You said it to the anesthesiologist.

Malcolm: Well, I meant it for you. Sarah, please. You've seen the place, you've drawn your conclusions, now let's go.

Sarah: I've barely begun. I'm trying to change a hundred years of theory, here. Dinosaurs were categorized as vicious lizards very early on and there's a lot of resistance to the idea of them nurturing parents. Robert Burke calls T-rex a rogue that abandoned its young at the first opportunity. I think I can prove - -

Suddenly, Nick bolts right in between them, running as fast as he can down the trail, toward base camp.

Malcolm: What's the matter with - -

They all turn, looking in the direction Nick is running. A plume of black smoke is rising up over the trees.

Eddie: Fire!

Nick bursts out of the trees and races towards the thick plume of smoke. In the middle of the base camp, someone has neatly built a campfire surrounded by stones. Nick grabs a jug of water to douse it, but Sarah steps in.

Sarah: No! Water makes the smoke billow, use dirt!

Eddie joins in as they kick and rake dirt onto the fire with their hands and feet. Malcolm is furious.

MALCOLM Who the hell started a campfire?!

(Y/N): I may have a idea.

Voice: (o.s.) It was just to make dinner.

Malcolm turns towards the source of the voice. Kelly Malcolm, his twelve year old daughter, stands in the doorway of the trailer, very sheepish.

Kelly: (cont'd) I wanted it ready when you got back.

The whole group stares, stunned, none more than Malcolm himself. He looks at Kelly, then at the trailer door hanging open, then at (Y/N), then back at Kelly as he figures out how she did it.

Malcolm: Oh . . . wow.

Later, and base camp is a blur of activity. Sarah, Nick, and Eddie are hard at work, burying the remains of the fire, sealing their food in plastic bags, loading camera equipment, packing up specimen containers and other information-gathering equipment.

Malcolm, meanwhile, is beside himself over Kelly's presence. While he talks, he keeps trying to make a call on the satellite phone, which he had pulled out of the trailer and is now in front of him, on its heavy base.

Kelly: You practically told me to come here!

Malcolm: I what?

Kelly: You said "don't listen to me." I thought you were trying to tell me something.

Malcolm: You knew exactly what I meant! You don't have the faintest idea what's going on on this island, of the danger you put yourself in!

Nick leans over and whispers to Eddie, gesturing to Malcolm and Kelly.

Nick: Do you see any family resemblance here?

Sarah: (to Malcolm) What do you want to do, lock her up for curiosity? Where do you think she gets it?

Kelly: Thank you, Sarah.

Malcolm: No, no, no, no, no. Don't even start the teaming up thing.

Kelly: You're wrong, Dad. I do know what's going on this island.

Malcolm: How could you possibly?

Kelly: Because you said so. Maybe nobody else believed you, but I always did.

Malcolm is touched. Nick leans over to Eddie again.

Nick: The kid scores with cheap sentiment.

Sarah: Ian, you sound like a high school vice-principal.

Malcolm: I'm her father.

Kelly: Sure, now. Sarah Touché.

Malcolm: (to Sarah) You. Out of the conversation. (of the satellite phone) Eddie, why the hell doesn't this thing work?

Eddie: I told you, it's not like a land line. You have to wait for a decent signal.

Malcolm SMACKS it down angrily. Inside the Mobile Lab, (Y/N) and Jasmine are having a talk.

(Y/N): I still think you should head back.

Jasmine: And have you stay here with all the fun. Not a chance.

(Y/N): Look I'm not going to tell you what you can and can't do. But I'm begging you, please leave this island with Kelly. Because when shit in the fan, and it will happen, it only a matter of time now. So before you go home without an arm or leg, please go now when you are in one place. Please. For my, and your family sake, please just go home.

Jasmine: I'm sorry. But I'm not leaving.

(Y/ N): I see, in that case, you're to remain by my side at all times when we are together. If we somehow ever get along, use this.

(Y/N) then hand her his Glock 19. Jasmine looks at it with complete shock.

Jasmine:WHAT!?

(Y/N): I want you to use this if something try's to kill you. I need you to protect yourself.

Jasmine takes the gun out of our hands as she looks over it.

Jasmine: And you, what I will you use?

(Y/N): Nothing.

Jasmine looks at him.

(Y/N): But my luck and love for you.

Jasmine: really.

Jasmine said with a deadpan look.

(Y/N): What?

Jasmine then hands him the gun back.

(Y/N): Huh?

Jasmine: A- wait, you hear that?

Jasmine then leaves the trailer of the mobile lab as (Y/N) follows behind her. A low sound has been rising while they bickered and now it comes BOOMING over the jungle around them, a THUNDEROUS racket that shakes the very ground beneath them. (Y/N) stops, the door to the trailer rattling in his hand as three military helicopters ROAR overhead, flying very low. The choppers are enormous, fast-assed creature, some dangling huge cargo containers under them.

AT A RIDGE

the members of the gatherer expedition hit the dirt and peer over a ledge, watching as the helicopters bank and hover over a specific spot.
the metal equipment containers are cut loose and drop, snapping off tree like matchsticks, crushing flat anything foolish enough to exist where they want to land. Black silk rope bags drop out the cargo doors of the choppers and MEN leap out, sliding down them.

Malcolm looks at Sarah.

Malcolm: You were saying something about antiseptic?

Through a pair of binoculars, Eddie studies the vehicles, which are emblazoned with the familiar InGen logo.

Eddie: "InGen?" Why would Hammond send two teams?

Sarah: Doesn't he trust us?! We haven't even had a chance yet!

Malcolm grabs the binoculars. Through the binoculars, he sees the frenzy of activity as the massive containers are unloaded and their men and equipment deployed. And standing right in the center of it all is Peter Ludlow, in a brand-new Banana Republic safari wear. Malcolm lowers the binoculars, furious.

(Y/N): That son of a bitch. Hammond didn't send these guys. Peter Ludlow did.

Sarah: What do they want?

Nick seems to know exactly what's going on.

Nick: They want their money back.

Malcolm and (Y/N) looks at him - - how does he know?

Metal container doors clang to the ground and jeep engines roar to life in a cloud of thick black diesel smoke. Ludlow turns to Dr. Robert Burke, a ragged, pony-tailed man in wire-rimmed glasses.

Ludlow: Welcome to your dream come true, Dr. Burke.

Burke had a detailed set of satellite recon photographs that he spreads out on the hood of a jeep.

Burke: The animals are heat sources, and the satellite flybys pick up their infrared signatures. Big animals leave big signatures. These red concentric marks, that's there the heat dots overlapped from pass to pass. The greatest concentration is here, in the flatlands.

Ludlow: Then that's where we're going.

Burke flips open a manifest. Inside, there are dozen of sketches of various kinds of dinosaurs, front and side views, with detailed descriptions underneath. As each vehicle roars out of the equipment container, Burke slips a waterproof eight by ten card with an icon of its particular dinosaur into a slot in the dashboard.

Burke: (calling them off) Hadrosaurus! Carninthosaurus! Maiasaurus!

As the procession goes on, Ludlow turns to Dieter Stark, a brittle South African of about forty-five.

Ludlow: This is as good a place as any for base camp. First priority is the laser barriers, I want them all up and running in thirty minutes. Half an hour, understand?

Dieter nods and turns to some of the Hunters, who number about twenty in all. But someone steps in, cutting him off. It's Roland Tembo, the hunter from the bar in Mombassa.

Roland: Cancel that, Dieter.

Ludlow: What? Why?

Roland: Carnivores hunt neat large water sources, Mr. Ludlow. Do you want to set up base camp or an all-you-can-eat people bar?

Ludlow: (to Dieter) You heard him. Find a new spot.

Dieter sighs and goes back to work. Roland puts an arm around Ludlow and pulls him aside.

Roland: Peter, if you want me to run your little camping trip, there are two conditions. First - - I'm in charge, and when I'm not around, Dieter is. Your job is to sign the checks, tell us we're doing a good job, and open your case of scotch when we have a good day. Second condition - - my fee. You can keep it. All I want in exchange for my services is the right to hunt one of the tyrannosaurs. A male. Buck only. Why and how are my business. If you don't like either of those conditions, you're on your own. Go ahead and set up your camp right here, or in the swamp, or in the middle of the rex nest, for all I care. But I've been on too many safaris with rich dentists to listen to any more suicidal ideas. Okay?

Ludlow: (what else can he say?) Okay.

As the sun glows bright orange on the horizon, Nick raises a pair of binoculars to his eyes and peers down at the vista below the ridge. In the lenses of the binoculars, we can clearly see a mixed herd of midsize herbivores - - HADROSAURS, PACHYCEPHALOSAURS, and GALLIMIMUSES - - racing across the plain below.

Malcolm, also staring through binoculars, lies on the ridge beside him. Sarah is several feet behind them, her back pressed against a tree, unwilling to go to the lip of the ridge. we see a shaky point of view of the herd running. The binoculars whip to the right revealing a jeep chasing the herd. Not just one jeep, in fact, but a whole FLEET OF HUNTER PURSUIT VEHICLES! There are two herding jeeps, one motorcycle, a speedier mini-jeep, and, further behind, a container truck and a wrangler's pickup truck. Although there's a great deal of commotion below, up here it's almost eerily silent. Nick lowers the binoculars, angry. When he raises them again, the sun FLARES off the lens and when the brilliant flares clear, we're right down in the middle of the roundup. Engines roar, wheels spin and dig in the dirt, men shout and radios squawk as the hunter vehicles pursue the fleeing herd they've flushed. The hunters shout and shriek with glee, incredulous and thrilled by the spectacular animals they're pursuing.

Hunter: LOOK AT THESE THINGS!

Hunter 2: THEY'RE BEAUTIFUL, MAN, THEY'RE BEAUTIFUL!!!

One of the pursuit vehicles (a "snagger"), pulls ahead of the others. Dieter stands in the passenger seat, holding a long pole with a noose dangling from the end of it. He swings the pole over the side of the jeep and shouts to Carter, his driver.

Dieter: FASTER!

The Driver hits the gas and the snagger leaps forward, gaining on the herd. Aware of the danger behind them, the herd veers to the right, towards the cover of thick jungle but the motorcycle roars in from the right side, cutting them off, herding them back out into the open.

Peter Ludlow stands up in a "conning tower," a command post in the heaviest pursuit vehicle. He barks into a walkie-talkie.

Ludlow: You are to take those animals alive, Dieter, and uninjured! Understand?

The Driver can barely keep up with the twist and feints thrown by the herd ahead of them. Dieter CURSES and throws the lasso pole into the back of the jeep. Ludlow's voice continues over the radio next to him.

Ludlow: (o.s.) That's very expensive property, and it does not belong to you! Dieter?! Can you hear me?!

Dieter: (to the Driver) Turn that off!

The Driver snaps off the radio as Dieter grabs a long-barreled rifle from the back of the vehicle.
The motorcycle, guns it again, forcing the herd back into the middle of the plain. From the trees to the left, two heads on enormous necks rise up in alarm. Two APATOSAURS are startled from the bush and lumber out across the middle of the plain. The herd doesn't even break stride, but keeps running, scampering after the giants and stampeding right between their massive legs. One smaller PACHYCEPHALOSAUR, a thick, heavy-set animal whose distinctive feature is an enormous skull casing, bolts loose, but the motorcycle cuts it off and herds it back into the middle, which now takes the motorcycle right through the rising and falling legs of the apatosaurs. The bike chases the pachy out the other side, and as the apatosaurs disappear into the distance, the cycle isolates the juvenile. Two pursuit vehicles cut the animal off and stop. The pachy stops too, ten feet away.

Dr. Burke is in one of the cars, staring at the animals in wonderment, moved by the sight of the animals he's studied for so long.

Burke: Pachycephalosaurus!

The Hunters' FIELD VETERINARIAN, in the car with Burke, looks fearful, flipping through a large book with pictures of various dinosaurs and their descriptions.

Veterinarian: Carnivore?

Burke: (enchanted) Huh? No, no, herbivore, late Cretaceous. It's either prenocephale prene or pachycephalosaurus wyomingesis. This is amazing! We've found a lot of domed cranial fragments, but never a whole animal - - until now! See that distinctive domed skull? That's nine inches of solid bone!

Burke actually seems misty, almost moved to tears. Two Hunters are not, though, they warily approach the pachy with lasso poles as another jeep pulls up.

Burke: (cont'd) They pachy's neck attaches to the bottom of its skull instead of the back of its head, as with reptiles.

A Hunter opens the passenger door of the jeep and starts to clim out - -

Burke: (cont'd) So when it lowers its head, its neck lines up directly with its backbone!

But the pachy charges! The Hunter ducks behind the door for cover, but the pachy HEAD-BUTTS right into it, CRUNCHING the door closed and sending the Hunter flying right back into the vehicle.

Burke: (cont'd) Which is perfect for absorbing impact.

Another truck, a "scissor rig," spots the pachy. High in the back of the truck, a HUNTER mans a tranquilizer cannon and draws a bead on it. He FIRES and the tranquilizer dart hits the animal in the neck. Another HUNTER from the truck tosses a lasso around its neck and they crank a winch, reeling in the animal. As the truck gains on it, two six-foot padded arms with what look like heavy airbags on the insides open up on the front of the truck. As the animal is pulled in, the scissors close with a hydraulic WHIR, trapping the animal between its airbags. Now a pickup rig ROARS up and drops its back gate. The scissor rig rolls forward, depositing the squirming pachy in this dino-containment vehicle. Two HUNTERS throw levers on the side of the scissor bars and the scissor rig backs away, leaving the animal, still pinched between the bars, imprisoned in the back of the pickup rig. The Hunter quickly fit new scissor bars onto the scissor rig and it takes off, back into the hunt.

BACK ON THE SNAGGER,

Dieter, rifle in hand, drops down into the passenger seat, whips a harness over himself and CLICKS it into place. He jabs his thumb into a flashing red button in the dashboard. Immediately, a motor underneath the seat HUMS to life and the seat itself telescopes, extending a good four feet out to the side of the speeding jeep. Dieter raises the gun, picks a CARINTHOSAUR, a red-crested herbivore, from the rear of the fleeing herd and takes aim.

BANG!!

The carinthosaur staggers as a tranquilizer dart sticks in its let hindquarters. there is utter quiet. Nick and the others stare wordlessly at the spectacle below. the snagger SHUDDERS to a halt in the dirt, kicking up a huge cloud of dust and dirt. The motorcycle spins to a stop beside it, its DRIVER pushing his mask up to reveal his sweat and dirt-streaked face. The wrangler truck backs up and drops its rear door, which CLANGS heavily to the ground. FOUR WRANGLERS carrying wire noose poles and chains race down the ramp and out of the truck. Dieter jumps off the snagger. He puts down his tranquilizer gun, picks up a long steel rod, and walks forward slowly. Ahead of him, the carinthosaur is still on its feet. The sedated animal staggers, fighting to retain its balance while it is surrounded by wary Wranglers.

Dieter: Easy - - easy - - not too close! Full extension!

The Wranglers adjust their poles, extending them another three feet, which allows them to stay further from the feeling, ten foot tall animal.

Dieter: Now!

Almost as one, the Wranglers flip their nooses over the stunned animal's neck. It thrashes, but the Wranglers hold their poles tightly, surrounding and immobilizing it. Nick lowers the binoculars. Sarah mutters to herself, concerned.

Sarah: They must not know. They think they're in herbivore territory - -

Malcolm: They are, aren't they?

(Y/N): That's no man's land. They're on a game trail, Ian.

a bolero-type device, a rope with a round weight at either end, whips around the carinthosaur's legs. The animal THUDS to the dirt with a SNORT of defeat. Ludlow steps up next to Dieter and both of them stare down at the helpless animal. Ludlow's breathing heavily, eyes glowing.
The animal is still thrashing, pumping its legs crazily. Dieter turns a knob on the side of the steel rod he's holding and thrusts it into the defenseless animal's neck. A blue arc of electricity CRACKS and dances over the carinthosaur's body. The animal convulses in pain, a horrible, high-pitched SQUEALING rips the air. The VETERINARIAN hurries forward with a case full of dozens of bottles of tranquilizing agents. He runs his finger along the row, selects just the right one, and fills a syringe with a specific amount. He injects it into the animal's thigh. CARTER, Dieter's Driver, steps up with a can of spray paint and quickly tags the animal with an ID number in day-glo orange. He marks a black X over the card with the drawing of the carinthosaur. Dieter, sweat-soaked, guzzles water from a canteen. It runs down his chin and a COMPSOGNATHUS, the small, chicken-sized dinosaur we saw in the opening, hops over and investigates the puddle near his foot. Dieter looks down at the animal. DR. BURKE bends over it, fascinated.

Burke: Compsognathus triassicus! Found by Fraas in 1913 in Bavaria, I think.

Dieter: Is it dangerous?

Burke: I don't think so. Compys have always been presumed to be scavengers, like jackals, feeding on dead or wounded animals.

The compy happily sniffs Dieter's boot, lapping at the drops of water on his toe.

Dieter: It gives me the creeps. It's like it's not scared.

Burke: Probably because there haven't been any visitors to the island. It has no reason to fear man.

Dieter pulls the steel rod from the loop in his belt and touches it to the compy's back. The electric shock CRACKS over the animal's form and sends it tumbling head over heels, back into the bushes, WAILING.

Dieter: Now it does.

Nearby, Roland is down on the ground with Ajay, staring at an enormous, very deep three-toed track.

Roland: Burke. Come here.

Burke leaves Dieter and comes hurrying over, carrying the large book.

Roland: (cont'd) You recognize this track way?

Burke: (softly) I'm afraid I do.

He flips to a particular page and turns it around, showing a picture of the fossilized footprint. There's also a large, lifelike drawing of the animal that made it. An animal so large the page has to fold out (twice) to show it all.

Burke: (cont'd) Tyrannosaurus rex.

Ajay, Roland's tracker, studies the rex's trail. It goes sideways, bisecting the game trail.

Ajay: He sprang from the foliage. Picked off a calf - - that's this smaller set of tracks that disappears. Then carried it back into the bush. That way.

Roland gets up and goes to his jeep. At the back, he opens a wood and leather case, revealing his gun. It's an antique elephant gun, double barreled .600 Nitro Express. Nearly a hundred years old, its rosewood stock is worn buttery smooth, but is nicked and scarred by two lifetimes of campaigns. Cape buffalo are delicately engraved along its silver breech. The barrels are twenty-four inches long, topped with ivory bead foresight at the business end. Roland scoops up the gun, breaks the breech, and pulls two rounds of ammunition from his shirt pocket.
Four inches long and three-quarters of an inch in diameter, these are the largest full metal jacket cartridges ever made. He slips one into each barrel and they land with a resonant metallic WHUMP. He and Ajay head into the bush.

Ludlow calls to them from his vehicle.

Ludlow: Hey! Where do you think you're going?!

Roland: To collect my fee.

And with that he disappears into the foliage. Ajay takes a step into the bush, but at a ninety degree angle away from the direction in which the animal tracks lead.

Roland: Ajay.

Ajay turns. Roland points in the direction in which the footprint leads.

Roland: (cont'd) I'm no tracker, but even I can read this spoor.

Ajay: Do you wish to go where the animal has been, or where the animal is?

Roland smiles and follows Ajay as he sets off in his chosen direction. Ajay and Roland make their way through the foliage and come into a small clearing, where a cluster of caves is carved into the rock. Ajay freezes, gesturing ahead, to the cave on the far left. Roland pulls up a handful of grass and releases it on the breeze. It floats back between his legs. That's good. He proceeds toward the cave, carefully, Ajay behind him. They can see the partially eaten leg of a creature. It's old, crawling with white maggots and flies. Roland continues on. Closer to the cave, he passes the skull of a large animal, some of the flesh and green skin still adhering to the bone. It, too, is covered with flies. Still he continues on. A short rise leads into the cave, and they edge up it. From the inside the cave, they can hear odd SQUEAKING sounds, very high-pitched. Crawling now, Roland and Ajay scale a four-foot circular rampart of dried mud, and peer into the tyrannosaur nest. It's flattened inside, about ten feet in diameter, completely encircled by earthen walls. A BABY TYRANNOSAUR, about four and a half feet long, is in the center of the nest. It has a large head, very large eyes, and its body is covered with a fluffy red down, which gives it a scraggly appearance. It SQUEAKS repeatedly, tearing awkwardly at the remains of a chuck of animal flesh, biting decisively with tiny, sharp teeth. The care itself is a foul boneyard. ANIMAL CARCASSES litter the edges, flies BUZZ in the captive air. Roland raises a bandana to his nose to cover the stench. He turns to Ajay and WHISPERS.

Roland: It's the rex nest.

Ajay nods. The baby tyrannosaur hears the whispers and looks up, cocking its head in curiosity.

Roland: (cont'd) Infant's probably only a few weeks old. Never been out of the nest. Offspring that young, parents won't leave it for long.

He looks around anxiously.

Ajay: Make a blind here? Wait for the buck to return?

Roland: (shakes his head no) If the nest is upwind, so are we. When he comes back, he'll know we're here before we have a chance. The trick - -

In the nest below, the baby SQUEAKS angrily at the intruders.

Roland: (cont'd) - - is to get him to come where we want him.

The baby SQUEAKS again, indignant. Roland turns and looks down at it. Thinking. As darkness falls, the hunters have established base camp in an area they have trampled and cleared just below the ridge. Blue laser fences encircle the perimeter. Half a dozen tents are set up around a central campfire. The vehicles are all parked at one end, away from the tents. At the other end, there is a row of at least a dozen "capture containers," cages that hold the fruits of their roundup. Up on the ridge, Malcolm has his hand securely around Sarah's waist as she stands near the edge of the ridge, looking down at the scene through binoculars. Voice waft up to them, raucous, laughter, and some singing.

Sarah: Carninthosaurus - - compsognathus - - triceratops - - pachycephalosaurus - - looks like they went for herbivores or small scavengers.

She starts to get dizzy and steps back, a hand to her head. She looks at Malcolm, irritated with herself.

Sarah: (cont'd) Sorry. Can't help it.

Kelly looks at her, concerned.

Kelly: Are you okay?

Sarah smiles gamely and takes her hand.

Malcolm: This is why Hammond was in such a hurry to get you here. He knew they were coming.

Eddie also has binoculars.

Eddie: My God, they're well organized. Every piece of gear, state of the art.

Malcolm: I can't believe Peter Ludlow's running all this.

(Y/N): I can.

Nick speaks up, looking through binoculars of his own.

Nick: He isn't. Check out the guy walking past the fire.

(Y/N): Huh?

(Y/N) takes his binoculars and peers down at the camp. Through the binoculars, he sees Roland, who's walking with Ajay, weapons and equipment slug over their shoulders.

Nick: (o.s.) I've run into this guy before. In Brazil. He was spearhunting jaguars. Said it was immoral to go after them any other way. Thinking he's a hunter/philosopher. He's the one in charge.

Eddie: Night is falling, people. We should get back to base camp.

Malcolm: Absolutely. We've indulged our curiosity long enough. Kelly and I are going back to the trailers with Eddie to send the radio call for the boat. Who's coming?

Sarah: We haven't come close to finishing our work yet.

Malcolm: Your work has been invalidated by their presence. What Hammond needed to sway the public opinion was a record of his Lost World - - before it was found. It's too late for that.

Nick: Look, you might as well know, Hammond told me these guys might show up. He honestly thought we'd have time to finish before they got here. But, in case we didn't, he sent a back-up plan.

Sarah: What back-up plan?

Nick: Me.

SMACK! He drops his pack on a rock and ZIPS it open, pulling out some of the tools he loaded back in the garage - - a bolt cutter. A hunting knife. A pry bar.

Eddie: Why, Nick! You are a tree-hugger.

Malcolm: Sarah. I must get Kelly off this island now. So, I'll ask you one more time, and not again - - are you coming with us?

She looks from him to Nick, who shoves implements of destruction into a tool belt and straps on.

Sarah: I can't let them get away with it, Ian.

Kelly: What are you guys going to do?!

Malcolm: Wait, please, listen to me. We are teetering on the edge of a very unstable situation here. It's Gambler's Ruin.

Sarah: (here he goes again) What?

Malcolm: A statistical phenomenon. Says everything in the world goes in streaks. It's real, you see it everywhere - - in baseball, in blackjack, in stock markets. Once things go bad, they tend to stay bad. Bad things cluster. They go to hell together.

Nick: They're about to. For them.

He goes to the edge of the ridge and waits, holding out is hand for Sarah. She walks to the edge and pauses, looking down, frightened.

Nick (cont'd) Where'd you get this fear of heights?

Sarah looks back at Malcolm, who's staring at her angrily.

Sarah: From dating tall men.

She takes a deep breath, grabs Nick's hand, and goes over the edge. In the hunters' supply tent, a case of scotch sits open amid crate after crate of weapons and ammunition. PETER LUDLOW reaches in and pulls a bottle out. In the jungle, Ludlow approaches, a small clearing. Roland is bent over a stake in the ground, chaining something to it. It's the BABY TYRANNOSAUR, alive and kicking, SQUEALING in protest. Roland looks up.

Roland: Incentive.

Ludlow laughs and shakes his head. Half in the bag, he takes a drink and offers Roland one. Roland declines. Ludlow notices Roland's gun leaning against a tree.

Ludlow: What kind of gun is that?

Roland: My father's .600 Nitro Express. Made in 1904. Karimojo Bell gave it to him after he took down his last elephant. 8700 foot pounds of striking force, each barrel.

Ludlow: How close do you have to be?

Roland: Forty yards. Less, maybe. I assume it'll take a slug in the brain case to bring him down.

Ludlow: Why not just use a scope and a poison dart and snipe him from the hill?

Roland looks at him disdainfully.

Roland: Or a laser from from a satellite?

Behind Ludlow, something SCURRIES through the underbrush. Ludlow jumps back a step, wobbling, the liquor getting to him. He leans down, close to the baby rex, and examines it while it thrashes on its chain. Its mouth has been bound with a leather strap.

Ludlow: You think this'll draw the adult?

Roland: Never underestimate the parental instinct. I once saw a bull elephant kill itself charging a jeep. All the jeep had done was startle the bull's calves. I saw a lioness carry wounded prey four and a half miles, all the way back to its den, just to teach its cubs to finish off a kill.

Ludlow: Killing lessons? Heartwarming.

Roland: Rex won't be any different. It'll come.

Ludlow takes another drink and shakes his head.

Ludlow: You're kidding yourself, or I'd be worried. An adult T-rex doesn't care about its young, it cares about one thing - - filling its own belly. It acts the way people's fascinated by it. If people had the chance to see one dinosaur and one only, ninety-nine percent would choose the tyrannosaur. Now that's something to build a theme park around.

Roland: You could never contain it.

Ludlow: Sure, there's sedatives for that, growth inhibitors, surgery to shorten its tendons, make it immobile. (bends down, close to the baby rex) But you wouldn't be any trouble at all, would you? And the entire world would pay to watch you grow up. You're a billion dollar idea, my little f-

With a sudden WHOOSH, another animal scampers through the underbrush right behind Ludlow. Scared, he spins around, to get away from it, but he looses his balance, gets tangled up in his own feet and steps right on top of the baby rex's leg. The bone breaks with a dry SNAP and the animals HOWLS in pain. Roland lunges forward, shoves Ludlow out of the way, and bends over the injured animal. It HOWLS in pain, its leg bent at an odd angle.

Roland: Damn it, you've broken its leg!

He reaches out and snatches the bottle of scotch away from him. Ludlow, angry and embarrassed, turns abruptly and stalks away, back towards the camp. Roland watches him go, disgusted. At the edge of the hunters' camp Nick and Sarah scramble down a hillside and stop at the edge of the laser barriers. There are three beams, each about two feet apart, the tallest almost six feet off the ground. Nick reaches the edge and crouches. Sarah steps up onto his back and jumps over the top, landing with a CRUNCH. Nick backs up a few steps, jogs towards the lasers, and does the Fosbury Flops right over the top. they creep along, hiding behind a stack of fuel barrels. They lean around the edge for a look. They're directly behind the row of vehicles. They move into the open, covering the ground between them and the jeep. Reaching them, Nick hits the dirt and wriggles under the first one. Sarah stands lookout. Under the jeep, Nick pulls the bolt cutter from his back pocket. He squirms along until he finds the jeep's fuel line and he snips it. He ducks out of the way just as the stream of fuel begins to pour into the dirt. Sarah, moves slowly down the line, standing watch as Nick crawls out from under the first jeep and proceeds to the second.
She hears another snip, then keeps moving, to cover him as he moves to the third. She hears the sound in the distance, a faint, high-pitched SCREECHING. It's the baby T-rex, still SCREECHING. Up in a nearby tree, Roland and Ajay have spread some broken branches crosswise to form a high hide of their own about ten feet off the ground. They wait. Roland raises his binoculars. The light of the camp spills all the way out here, illuminating some of the jungle. He scans it, searching for any signs of movement. Back in the camp, Sarah and Nick have finished with all the vehicles and the motor pool area is now soggy lake of spilled gasoline. The saboteurs walk casually across the camp, unnoticed in the drunken revelry. They pass several tents, the shadows of the partiers visible as they move inside. They continue across the camp and arrive at the other side to face the caged animals. The carinthosaur that was tranquilized earlier stands there dully, eyes heavy and glassy, still under the effects. They pass a stegosaur, its row of fins bristling. And finally they reach the largest cage, which houses a triceratops the size of a pickup truck. Nick pulls out his trusty bolt cutters. He looks at Sarah, a glint in his eye.

Nick: Hang on. We may encounter some turbulence.