Not with a whimper.

"What the hell are you doing!?" yelled Franks, stalking up the dusty path toward the stranger at the base of the sandstone cliff.

The workman took a moment to finish whatever the hell it was he was doing, then turned to face the professor.

"Time's up," he said. "Job's back on."

"Not yet it bloody isn't," Franks fumed. "We've got the site until the end of next month!"

The workman shrugged, "Not what my work order says, Mack." He pulled a crumpled piece of paper from the pocket of his orange vest and waved it under the professor's nose. Franks snatched it before the man could pull it away again and studied it. The workman stood and watched, bemused.

"Here, you idiot, the start date. That's July 5th, not May 7th!"

The workman stuffed the form back in his pocket without looking at it and shrugged again. "Take it up with the boss. I've got work to do." Picking up the reel of cord at his feet, he stomped off down the track. Franks trotted after him, trying in vain to reason with the man's back.

When they reached the bottom of the trail, Franks rallied his research assistants while the workman went to fiddle with something in his truck.

"Somebody get me that stay order, pronto!" The students scattered amongst the tents, each scurrying to their personal stash of papers. It was Clark who came dashing back first.

Franks strode across the campsite toward the workman's truck, waving the document above his head.

"Look here!" he roared. "Notarized copy of the court ord..."

The hillside thundered abruptly up and out in a blossom of fire, rock and dust. The workman leaned smirking on the detonator as tiny fragments of once uniquely intact fossil rained down amongst the rubble.