In Santa Fe Springs California, in a run-down, edge-of-town location, there sits this warehouse. It was previously used for storing mattresses, but was abandoned, and later purchased on the fly by Craig Security. Craig Security is run and owned by Craig Lestings, the business previously was in charge of security measures for many of facilities in the area, but he has since pulled back into himself to form a team to respond to the arising crisis with the loose dinosaurs. While his own team is already fairly sizable, he also opened up applications for more members in hopes of getting some new recruits to bolster their numbers, and also in hopes of possibly attracting some people with previous dinosaur experience, and other valuable skills.
The warehouse itself has been deeply fortified, with makeshift walkways around the roof, hurriedly poured concrete walls surrounding the perimeter, and even a machine gun mounted on a small tower.
The interior is mainly one humongous room, but along the edge are ranged smaller rooms.
Check-in is at the main door. You are not admitted in until you have registered and received a badge. No one gets in without the badge.
A man, looking to be about in his thirties, walked up to the main door. He had a shotgun attached to an ammo belt strapped across his back, and a hunting knife in its sheath attached to his belt. "Seniors." He inclined his head. "I've come to check-in."
Lucas walks towards the front desk. "Indeed I am. My name is Lucas Colt."
"Ah, yes. Welcome! Did you bring any weapons?"
Lucas places his crossbow and his knife onto the table. "Just these. Do you happen to have any more? Most of the gun stores in this state are sold out."
Andrew walks in and looks around. He pulls out his badge and looks around.
A passerby directs him to the main desk, where he sees one attendant working with a man with wavy blond hair and stubble. A second one motions him over. "Welcome..." he reads off the badge. "Andrew!" He does some fast clicking on the computer. "Ah, I see you've got some previous dinosaur experience! How are you with a gun?"
I've used guns before several times, but I've only used them for hunting.
A man long, grey hair walks up. "Lowery! I have indeed heard of you! I was hoping you would join us, I have need of you!"
He grabs a badge and tosses it to him, then points to one of the rooms. "Follow me in here, and I'll show you what I have in mind."
(Lowery clumsily catches the badge and follows)
The man, Craig, swipes his badge and opens the door and escorts him inside. "We have a lab set up here, in hopes that maybe, just maybe, you could track the dinosaurs. That was your area of expertise, and we have reasons to believe that the tracking system is possibly still in place."
The lab is a series of fairly new high-tech computers, with one of them hooked up to a projector pointed at the wall on the left.
A passerby directs him to the main desk, where he sees one attendant working with a man with wavy blond hair and stubble. A second one motions him over. "Welcome..." he reads off the badge. "Andrew!" He does some fast clicking on the computer. "Ah, I see you've got some previous dinosaur experience! How are you with a gun?"
I've used guns before several times, but I've only used them for hunting.
"Well, that's more than I've got. We're going to get you equipped." He motioned to the other check-in guy. "He's about to go get that other recruit geared up, you'll join them."
Lucas places his crossbow and his knife onto the table. "Just these. Do you happen to have any more? Most of the gun stores in this state are sold out."
"We may or may not have been part of the reason they are so." The man coughs a little, hiding a smile. "Follow me." He stands up and prepares to head for the back of the building.
In Santa Fe Springs California, in a run-down, edge-of-town location, there sits this warehouse. It was previously used for storing mattresses, but was abandoned, and later purchased on the fly by Craig Security. Craig Security is run and owned by Craig Lestings, the business previously was in charge of security measures for many of facilities in the area, but he has since pulled back into himself to form a team to respond to the arising crisis with the loose dinosaurs. While his own team is already fairly sizable, he also opened up applications for more members in hopes of getting some new recruits to bolster their numbers, and also in hopes of possibly attracting some people with previous dinosaur experience, and other valuable skills.
The warehouse itself has been deeply fortified, with makeshift walkways around the roof, hurriedly poured concrete walls surrounding the perimeter, and even a machine gun mounted on a small tower.
The interior is mainly one humongous room, but along the edge are ranged smaller rooms.
Check-in is at the main door. You are not admitted in until you have registered and received a badge. No one gets in without the badge.
A man, looking to be about in his thirties, walked up to the main door. He had a shotgun attached to an ammo belt strapped across his back, and a hunting knife in its sheath attached to his belt. "Seniors." He inclined his head. "I've come to check-in."
One of the check-in attendants, who has just finished with the last guy, gestures him over. "You look prepared! What's the name?" He sorts through a stack of badges.
The man, Craig, swipes his badge and opens the door and escorts him inside. "We have a lab set up here, in hopes that maybe, just maybe, you could track the dinosaurs. That was your area of expertise, and we have reasons to believe that the tracking system is possibly still in place."
The lab is a series of fairly new high-tech computers, with one of them hooked up to a projector pointed at the wall on the left.
“I’d need access to the mainframe. I do have access, but it’s not much use if I can’t use the tracking systems themselves. Are any of these computers even remotely related to Jurassic World? Like the ones they had on the ferry place in Costa Rica?”
A man, looking to be about in his thirties, walked up to the main door. He had a shotgun attached to an ammo belt strapped across his back, and a hunting knife in its sheath attached to his belt. "Seniors." He inclined his head. "I've come to check-in."
One of the check-in attendants, who has just finished with the last guy, gestures him over. "You look prepared! What's the name?" He sorts through a stack of badges.
"When one is told to write his will before coming, being prepared is important. My name is Emilio Johnson, amigo." Emilio said.
I've used guns before several times, but I've only used them for hunting.
"Well, that's more than I've got. We're going to get you equipped." He motioned to the other check-in guy. "He's about to go get that other recruit geared up, you'll join them."
Thank you. I walk over to "the other check-in guy" and wait.
The man, Craig, swipes his badge and opens the door and escorts him inside. "We have a lab set up here, in hopes that maybe, just maybe, you could track the dinosaurs. That was your area of expertise, and we have reasons to believe that the tracking system is possibly still in place."
The lab is a series of fairly new high-tech computers, with one of them hooked up to a projector pointed at the wall on the left.
“I’d need access to the mainframe. I do have access, but it’s not much use if I can’t use the tracking systems themselves. Are any of these computers even remotely related to Jurassic World? Like the ones they had on the ferry place in Costa Rica?”
"Believe it or not, but we have reasons to believe that some of these were pilfered off of the original island. We didn't have the funds to get over there ourselves, but we did some pretty extensive online searching and pulled up some tabs that may or may not have been authentic leads. We haven't had the time to really check them over yet."
One of the check-in attendants, who has just finished with the last guy, gestures him over. "You look prepared! What's the name?" He sorts through a stack of badges.
"When one is told to write his will before coming, being prepared is important. My name is Emilio Johnson, amigo." Emilio said.
"Ah, yes, that would have been the boss being dramatic." The guy rolled his eyes. "Then again, it's not a bad idea. Have one for the files?" He quickly started typing some information out. "You good with that shotgun?"
