I hope readers/followers don't mind (too much) this shameless plug. I'm currently writing a canon compliant fic with another Clawen/Jurassic author, akaJB. It's called The Missing Years and posted under our joint FFN account, EliseCollier-akaJB (direct link to the story is in my profile). akaJB is a fantastic author in her own right, so please check out her stuff, too (link in my profile as well). I figured that adding this addendum to Catch and Release was my best chance to advertise the new work. Thanks to everyone who has supported my work over the last two years!

The Missing Years is only getting started, and we do plan to fully cover the time between Jurassic World and Fallen Kingdom. We will flesh out the Clawen breakup but not before giving readers the necessary hope to see it through and root for them in the end. As always, we want your feedback on the work! Here's a teaser for the first chapter of the "Immediate Fallout."

Arriving by helicopter always made Henry Wu feel superior. Like he had arrived, and his genius was seen and respected. While the actual arrival might feel good; however, he had yet to figure out how to disembark in a way that kept up that appearance. The noise from the whirling blades caused his immaculate, minimalist look (that, yes, was inspired by Steve Jobs) to feel not quite so perfect. And he always felt like he sort of stumbled out, not able to make the grand entrance he wanted.

This time, however, was different. He was still clutching tightly to the black bag he'd carried onto the helicopter back on Nublar, even though they'd already had to stop and refuel in San Diego. He was feeling pale and shaky, and had been unable to take more than a couple of sips of the water bottle that had been pressed into his hand at some point. How had things gone so wrong, and so quickly?

It was hard to believe that it had only been a few hours ago that he and Hoskins had been making their plans for the next generation of the Indominus. "A fraction of the size," was the main thing they had agreed upon. It was too big and too smart to control. But the IBRIS project had provided them with a mountain of data. For all of Mr. Grady's faults, he was showing them the way forward.

As he stumbled off the helicopter, Henry was greeted by a younger man who looked to be around thirty wearing glasses and a sharply tailored suit. They nodded at each other, before the man gestured towards a waiting limo. Grateful to get away from the noise and wind of the helicopter, Wu hurried forward, the two of them climbing into the back.

"Is that it?" The younger man gestured to the briefcase.

"You're Eli?" Henry questioned, not letting go of the bag.

The man nodded, reaching forward to shake Wu's hand. "Yes, Eli Mills. I forget we hadn't actually met before."

"We haven't even talked," Henry reminded him, exchanging a brief handshake. "Where's Hoskins? I thought he'd be meeting us here."

"Hoskins is dead," Eli informed him.

"What? How?"

"One of the raptors," Eli replied. "It's not public knowledge yet."

"What happens to the plan?"

"We move forward," Eli shrugged. "I'm in the process of getting the lab back up and running at the Estate."

"What about Lockwood?"

"He's practically senile," Eli dismissed his boss.

"That's not what I heard," Henry replied. "He seems to be still quite with it."

"He won't be a problem," Eli reassured. "The estate is big enough that you'll never cross paths. He's barely moving about these days. And he trusts me."

"Trust only goes so far."

"Yeah, well, I've been his right hand man for almost a decade now. I know all his secrets. At this point, he has to trust me."

"Blackmail. That's healthy," Henry rolled his eyes.

"I don't need blackmail," Eli disagreed. "It's just handy to always have something available – you never know if things will change." Eli's gaze went back to the bag. "So, are those the samples?"

"Yes," Henry nodded. "Some of them. My team should've evacuated more. But I guess we'll have to see where things end up. I wanted to make sure that the most important ones, the key ones, stayed in our hands."

"Great, I'll take that," Eli reached for the briefcase, which Henry immediately shifted out of range.

"Do you have the area setup? And all the equipment I asked for? These samples need to be stored in the proper environment. It's already been far longer than I'd like for them to have been out."

"We're still waiting on some equipment, but the fridges and freezers have been setup and are at their optimal temperatures," Eli assured him. "The samples will be safe."

"What about me?" Henry asked, finally handing over the briefcase. "What am I supposed to do?"

"You need to get back to the evacuation center. It'll raise too many eyebrows if you're seen up here, or with me. Deal with the fallout, listen to InGen's lawyers. We'll be in touch." Eli turned and tapped on the glass separating the back of the limousine from the driver. Moments later the door was pulled open.

"How do I reach you?" Henry asked.

"Don't worry about it. I'll reach back out to you. It's best for now that there's no evidence of our direct contact. As soon as things start to die down, you'll hear from me."

Henry climbed out of the car, before turning back and looking at Eli, his gaze dropping to the briefcase. "You may have the samples now, but remember, most of the knowledge is stored right here," he tapped a finger against his temple. "Without me, those samples will be useless."

"You're too paranoid," Eli laughed. "I promise. I'll be in touch."

x x x

"Probably stick together." Owen paused to get a read on Claire and, if he was being totally honest, himself. This hadn't worked once before. While it was over faster than he would've liked, they both knew it was more than one date. His efforts to keep it friendly and casual seemed to have backfired spectacularly. Standing in front of her now, and after having been side-by-side for the last twenty-four hours, he was done pretending. It was time to put-up or shut-up. "For survival," he added with a small smirk. Her tiny nod was all he needed before turning toward the exit. Thankfully, she started following him out of the hangar. Their eyes met in a sideways glance, and Owen thought this could be a new beginning.

Almost immediately after they stepped into the sun, however, any plans that might've been forming in either of their minds were put on hold.

"Mr. Grady," a brusque voice broke through the din. Squinting in the bright light, Owen recognized the speaker as an InGen contractor, Mac, who worked closely with Vic Hoskins. Barry had mentioned seeing him at the raptor paddock before Owen's arrival the previous evening. It appeared that InGen had multiple contingency plans. After nodding respectfully toward Claire, Mac continued, "InGen is prepping missions to retrieve guest and staff belongings as well as research data left on the island. I expect you'll be joining us." It was practically blackmail. Of course, Owen didn't want anyone else touching his files at the paddock and his bungalow.

Before Owen could respond verbally – Claire thought he looked close to exploding – a female voice pulled their attention. "Ms. Dearing," the pantsuited woman said softly. "The board would like you on a teleconference from the San Jose offices ASAP." Her lips forming a tight line, Claire gathered her thoughts and took a deep breath.

"Absolutely," the still Senior Assets Manager finally responded. The other woman extended an arm in the direction of a waiting town car. Biting her lip, Claire turned toward Owen and offered a weak, "I'll call you."

The beleaguered raptor trainer nodded reluctantly with gritted his teeth and returned his focus to Mac, who was tapping something onto his phone. Looking back to Owen, he launched into his spiel, "We'll be operating on a very short string, two hours, so gather any other staff you want on the team and report to the command post on the other side of the hangar."

"Do I get mission input?" asked Owen impatiently.

"It's targeted recovery and clean-up. We're implementing established protocols with oversight and direction by the board and general counsel."

"In other words, 'shut up and color'?"

Mac grinned, "Exactly, soldier."

"It's Lieutenant Commander."

"Not anymore." His laugh made Owen's hairs stand on end. "We have cell phones, provisions, and cots at the command post. See you over there." Without another word, the contractor was walking briskly away to take a call. Owen needed to find Barry…and Lowery.

Stalking back to the hangar, he patted his vest pockets and swore. Realization washed over him. His phone was still on Nublar, and he didn't remember Claire's number. Some new beginning this was turning out to be.