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They are also hilariously capable of killing people. As most non-domesticated animals are.

Adequate precautions being the responsibility of the buyer, as such is very much the case.

Now, what can I do for you?

Why not just deal in regular arms then? Profit margins are about the same at the high ends and I'm pretty sure the overheads aren't as massive.

Why compete in a crowded market when I can be a pioneer in a new one?

[She shakes her head.]

Besides, certain governments get...upset when you play in their pond - and quite frankly the return on a single adult dinosaur is actually far better than you'd expect.

[To say nothing of the fact that the clientele are...vastly superior to your average warlord.]

Heh. You know what, I'll give you that one. Can't knock an innovator.

[He rolls his shoulder. It blends well with his skin tone, but the entire arm beneath the short sleeve is an advanced lifelike prosthetic.]

Might caution one, though. Even if the earnings forecast on the trained lizards holds steady... and I'm still not sold on that - there's ducks at this end of the pond too. Ducks with guns they're liable to pull if their feathers get ruffled.

[As a member of said gun-toting flock, he can speak with some authority on the subject.]

[She smiles, briefly.]

The thing is, it's like a collection - one is never enough. They want a pair, or the next species, or a red one, or a child wants a Sinoceratops for their birthday...it goes on. As long as the product can keep flowing, people will buy.

And I assume you mean the sort of people who gave you that wonderful prosthetic - but ah, there's ways to deal with that, in time.

[He chuckles at that, acknowledging the point with a tilt of his head and a close-lipped smile.]

Them and the sorts they gave me this to deal with, yeah. Some of the ones in the know got a little spooked after that mess with the, whaddayacallit, Andoraptor? A little paranoia over Winter Soldiersaurus kicking 'em off the top of the food chain.

[There's also the part where he got contracted to do something about it, but why get into that now? They're having a nice talk.]

Indoraptor.

[A gentle correction, as she moves to a shelf, selecting a bottle of white wine. And, in so doing, gently palming an innocuous-looking part of a gold bracelet on her wrist. No reason not to be prepared, after all.]

Not the first nor the last time Doctor Henry Wu's experimental work becomes a problem - a lesson Masrani, Eli Mills and others have learned to their cost. You perfect the product before you sell it. But that's the problem with hybrids.

[She sighs with a slight smile, pouring out two glasses, offering one over.]

Which is why I avoid the business.

[And has had to deal with her own scientists who have...deviated from the party line, as it were.]

That's the one.

[He accepts the correction with an absent nod, his attention seemingly caught by the row of paintings lining one wall. One in particular, a tableaux of two dinosaurs locked in combat, draws a sideways grin out of him that's almost approving.]

Someone should've pulled the trigger on Wu years ago. He's Gerald Bull all over again - he went off the reservation, and then he got sloppy.

[Kane's dark eyebrows lift in mild surprise, but he graciously accepts the wine glass from her.]

Do you offer drinks to all your uninvited guests?

[She picks up a small remote from the table, clicking it to provide some background music. Beethoven, as it happens, one of his piano works. It is, after all, her space he's in. It's a quiet way of making a point. So is what she says next.]

Better to have properly used his talents. Wu's genius is unparalleled in human history, after all. But he never had the vision to make anything of them on his own. Always at the feet of others, that one.

Of course, too much the other way and...well. Suffice to say I have no room for that in my organization.

[An encounter with an albino Baryonyx had seen to that.]

And what was it Lady Montague said? 'Courtesy costs nothing.'

[Her turf, but not her home. A small but important distinction he'd been very deliberate in choosing. Kane tries not to break into where someone lives unless he's pretty sure he's going to kill them. It's not about making any particular point; he's just old-fashioned that way.

The corners of his mouth turn up a little in recognition as the music starts playing. Beethoven. Usually when he's treated to classical it's by pompous rich types trying to assert their superiority over him. But that's obviously not what this is.]

I don't know about Lady Montague, but the meanest old cuss I ever knew once told me politeness and a gun go a lot further than just politeness.

[He smiles pleasantly as he lifts the glass to his lips for a healthy sip.]

Your pet Wu, Sarr. He found that out the hard way, didn't he?

[The intrusion itself is hardly a new thing - and she travels enough that 'home' is a very...mobile, fluid concept to her. She seats herself casually, gesturing at him to do the same. She leans her head back, soaking in some of the music for a moment.]

Direct, but accurate for many things. Certainly Dr. Sarr believed in the latter, in his own way. But that is no match for cleverness and planning.

[Though the fact that this other man knows that means he is exceptionally well informed. Which underlines that he is, in fact, dangerous and worth taking seriously.]

Which he also discovered, albeit briefly.

[Mobility. They've got that in common, her and him, despite their very different upbringings. He takes his seat smoothly, with uncommon grace for a man of his size. Resting his massive arms, one natural and one artificial, on the thin armrests, he breathes in and allows the elegant melody to wash over him.]

That's half my job done, then. Thank you for the confirmation. He was being scouted by a target of mine, lab geek at Essex by the name of Dr. Karl Lykos, that's how he got on my radar.

[Not his usual practice, divulging that sort of information to someone that isn't his employer, but she did tell him the truth about Sarr. Fair's fair.]

And I think you've already guessed the other half, Ms. Santos.

A warning, at least. A quiet assassination if I proved...obstinate?

[She sipped at the wine, putting the glass aside and folding her hands.]

Nothing so gauche as a blatant threat.

Courtesy isn't a priority for my employer. Neither is discretion, for that matter.

[He shrugs, and the gesture is nonchalant, but his nose wrinkles slightly in a subtle tell of distaste.]

He believes in making examples.

[And she nods, just the tiniest bit.]

It might surprise you, given my line of work, but both are key parts of my business. It might be that you're in the wrong line of work.

Subtle is the very axiom of my business in fact.

[She pauses, tilting her head a moment, having already taken the precaution of pressing the call button she had palmed earlier.]

Would you like to see?

[He smiles to himself at that, a flicker of a smirk ghosting over his features.]

Sure as hell hope not. I've been doing this since I was a kid. If I don't know what I'm doing by now, I might as well pack it up and go be a rent-a-cop.

[He considers the offer for a moment, his smile turning wry and slightly crooked. Lifting the glass to his lips, he downs it in one go.]

Why not? Nothing to lose, right? [He laughs lightly, like it's a joke they're both in on.]

[The tapping of feet comes moments after, and the soft, subtle growl. The Atrociraptor stalking into the room stands just over two meters tall, a reddish-brown tint to the skin. It stalks through the room, eyes never leaving the human beings there, growling slowly.]

This is Red. An Atrociraptor, and one I've trained since birth. The problem with Jurassic World was the willingness - the eagerness - to let Wu create horrors. The truth is, being clever produces much better results.

Loyalty, for instance.

[The moment the Atrociraptor steps into view his left eye glows with a bright yellow light, and for a split second outright surprise registers on his face. Catching himself, he lets out an appreciative hum, expression intent as his eyes scan over the approaching dinosaur; one human, one artificial.]

Trained to respond on command, not bad. Guessing the signal beacon uses some sonic frequency outside the human hearing range? She didn't set off any of my eye's threat assessment protocols either - ah, they're calibrated for human body types. Gonna have to fix that later.

So she, what, sees you as her alpha?

[A very brief smile.]

She sees me as the one who provides her meals. I was there when she was born, you see. The first being she ever saw. And I've trained her ever since. Every raptor alive today has been raised in an artificial world - chances are they'd be like wolves, organizing under a dominant pairing in the wild...but here?

[The raptor circles around her, and she casually points the controller at a disused mannequin in the corner of her space.]

I give her the orders.

[The tone on the controller changes and the raptor responds like an unwinding spring, slamming into the mannequin without a moments' hesitation.]

It's astounding how precise she - and her sisters - can be.

You don't say.

[The raptor moves so fast only his enhanced eye can follow her true motion. It takes maybe two seconds before the mannequin is dead meat - well, dead plastic. He whistles, impressed.]

Fast. Fast and accurate. Went straight for the vitals.

[The thick brows above his eyes draw together as he watches the raptor with newfound respect.]

How many others?

[She shrugs]

Currently? Four. But that's the thing about our inventory. It's the definition of a growth industry.

[Red stalks back towards them, shaking her head. And keeping a very, very close eye on the man. The sort of look that can set off one's deepest instincts. A predator measuring up its potential prey.]

[He's almost perfectly still now except for his eyes, which follow Red with unblinking focus. He's nothing's prey.]

One that won't sink from a failure of management, I see.

[He glances sidelong at her across the gap.]

Is it really you that big lizard's loyal to, though? Or is it just loyalty to a machine?

[Seemingly heedless of the raptor, he points his index finger at the painting from earlier. The one he was admiring. Subtly his digt changes shape, swelling and molding like a thing made of clay...

... until it's a perfect replica of her controller, emitting the same frequency and shining the same red targeting laser. A test to find out.]

[She almost, almost goes for a concealed gun in her desk - this is not the sort of situation she's at all sure of, and in instinct points her own controller at him as the raptor suddenly focuses on the painting, growling in rage and anger. As long as the tone stays one way, so long as it stays red...there's just agitation, gnashing. Noises.]

I wouldn't confuse an Atrociraptor in an enclosed space if you want either of us to come out alive. Confuse her enough, she will start making her own decisions on the issue, and your impressive little trick will get us both killed.

[A pause.]

And I can escalate the situation, not that either of us want that.

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late af, feel free to ignore

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