Chapter Text
If Laura had three wishes right now, she'd want a better hotel, better gear, and more money.
Unfortunately, unless someone has a magic genie in a bottle, she was stuck with a room with a water leak, sub-par SCUBA gear, and minimal funding.
The keycard to her room is streaked with dirt, the grey surface and the design of the hotel logo are smudged from too many fingers of too many humans. Laura takes the stairs again- the elevator makes suspicious noises and she'd rather not put her life in the hands of a machine that sounds like it's going to collapse if two or more people get on.
The journey to the fourth floor isn't a long one, but it feels longer somehow knowing that she just got turned down by another sponsor. He was an ass anyway, she tells herself, swiping the card. The scanner blinks green, and the door unlocks with a soft click.
She sighs, throwing her pack full of images and research papers on a chair and brushes a lock of hair out of her face. It's been a long day, she needs to be up early tomorrow, and sleep cannot come sooner.
That's when she notices that a man (who she doesn't know) is sitting on the ratty couch against the wall.
He's holding a glass with an amber liquid, and another sits on the equally pitiful coffee table (at least her has the decency to use a coaster.) He's old, with a head full of white hair and a beard of the same color. His clothes are white too, and leaning against the arm of the couch is a cane.
Laura jumps, fumbling for something to defend herself with (though, she doubts he could do much harm.) "Uh, how did you get here?"
He laughs good-naturally, she's catching a fatherly feeling from him, maybe he's got kids, or grandkids, judging from his age. "My dear, it's a hotel, it's a public facility."
"Yeah, but how did you get in my room?" She emphasizes, wrapping her hand around the TV remote. A fat lot of good that will do, she chastises herself silently.
"I asked politely," the man supplies, taking a sip from his drink.
Laura gives him a funny look, taking a step closer, swiveling her eyes to the packs of diving equipment stacked in the corner. From her vantage point, it looks like it's all there, no zippers have been opened, no pouches unfolded, and nothing out of place.
The old man chuckles kindly. "I have no intention of stealing your things, I merely want to talk." He stands, still holding his glass, and reaches out with the other hand. "John Hammond."
She eyes the symbolic olive branch with wariness but reaches out to shake it with her own. "Laura Koli."
He hums, sitting down again. "Yes, I know. Tell me," he adds, looking up at her with a smile. "You're familiar with fish, yes?"
Laura sits on the end of the low coffee table, nodding. "Depends on the kind of fish, but in general, yes. I have my specialties, why?"
He nods, seeming happy with her answer. "I have an island- a facility really- that could use someone of your expertise. There happens to be some, er, exotic fish I have in my possession, and I could use someone like you to determine their best living conditions. Some photos would be nice," he adds with another chuckle.
"Where is this island?"
He waves his hand, taking another sip of the drink. "Just off the coast of Costa Rica, about 200 miles. Does that mean you're interested? I can provide transportation- all paid for, don't you worry." He looks thrilled she's entertaining the idea.
Laura scratches her cheek and looks down. "I'm sorry, but I have to be up early tomorrow, I have a dive at sunrise."
John sets the glass down and reaches into the pocket of his shirt, pulling out a checkbook and pen. Laura's eyes widen a bit at the sight, but she holds her breath. "I can compensate you."
She smiles, tearing her eyes from the pen in his hand. It genuinely pains her to say no, he seems like a sweet man, and she hardly meets any more of them. "That's very kind of you, but I'm supposed to lead this team."
"It's also come to my attention you require funding future projects. Other dives and such, I hear there's an animal reserve in the making."
Laura stutters for an answer, not quite sure how he got that information. "That's true, yes, but I-"
He scribbles on the pad for a moment, then holds it up for her to see. The number has three zeros on the end, and Laura does the mental calculations in her brain. One-thousand dollars is a lot in retrospect, but it isn't enough to fund much. John must see her thinking because he adds another zero to the number.
Her eyes widen and John must see it because he smiles. Laura looks down again, thinking. "I- you're very generous, Mr. Hammond, but these are my people, we-" Laura breaks off as- without looking away from her face- John writes another zero on the end. Her eyes have got to be the size of dinner plates by now.
He smiles with no teeth, but it reaches his eyes, and they crinkle at the edges. "Could you reschedule?"
Laura stares at the thousands of dollars being offered to her and thinks about the possibilities.
And makes a decision.
"I'll make a few calls," she answers with a smile, standing from the table. "When do we leave?"
Hammond wants them to leave ASAP. Laura is fine with this. "I still have to call my people and find a date to reschedule this. Do I need to bring my equipment? How are we getting there?" He grunts as he uses his cane to haul himself to his feet. She winces, "Sorry." He chuckles deeply, opening the door to her room. Two men rush in, nodding politely to both of them, and each grabs one of her bags. Laura takes a step toward them. "Oi! Be careful with those!"
They pay her no mind, walking out of the room with her equipment over their shoulders John waves his hand as she stares at him incredulously. "That's alright dear, they're here to load the car. We're driving to an airstrip."
"You have a plane?"
He smiles. "A helicopter." Her jaw drops, and his smile grins. "Can I meet you downstairs in twenty minutes?" She nods silently, mouth still open. "Excellent."
It takes five minutes to pack up the rest of her personal things. She doesn't have much, most of her luggage is underwater equipment: cameras, tanks, weight belts, masks, a wetsuit, and other essentials. Traveling with the kind of gear she has is not lightweight, so she makes up for it in minimal personal items.
It takes another five minutes for one of her fellow divers to pick up the phone. She picks up on the fourth ring. "Hello?" Comes a groggy voice on the other end.
It's Sarah, someone she's been around for years. "Hey, Sarah, it's me."
"I figured," she says, followed by the rustling of sheets. "What's up?"
"Listen," Laura starts hesitantly, fidgeting with her fingers. "I'm so sorry to do this to you-"
"Oh no."
"-But something came up. Can you reach out to the other two? I've got to go in-" she checks her watch, "Eight minutes."
" Where are you going?"
"Just a quick study, advising, if you will."
"Advising who?"
She just doesn't stop with the questions. "Some rich guy with an island again, says he's got exotic fish and wants to know what kind of environment they need to live in."
"Laura-"
"He's paying me. A lot."
A pause and she can tell Sarah is actually considering not yelling at her. "How much is a lot?"
"Five zeros." A wolf whistle on the other end. "Listen, I'll probably be back in a few days, it won't take long, and we've always talked about how we could use more funding, this is our shot."
Sarah sighs loudly, and Laura can practically hear her rubbing her temples. "Don't get killed, please be careful, and yes I'll call them."
She smiles, standing from the bed. "Thank you, I owe you."
"Dinner, you owe me dinner. A nice one too."
"Will do," and with that, she hangs up.
Walking into the front room again, she finds John standing in the doorway once more. He's smiling, leaning on his cane. All of her things have been taken downstairs, and all she's carrying is her meager, rolling case with clothes and toiletries.
"Ready, are we?" He asks, tilting his head toward the hallway. "Shall we?"