AN. So this ol' story of mine needed serious spring cleaning, and after some tweaks and chapter dividing, I'm reposting it. Feedback&comments are welcome, as always. :D

LARA'S NEW HOBBY

By Demet Acargil

Part 1

May 13, 2004

Turkish-Syrian Border

A container passed through the Turkish-Syrian border by the Ceylanpinar gate. Ali, the container' driver, was singing along with the radio. The container's destination was Damascus, the capital of Syria. Ali had to drive another ten hours, as Damascus was about six hundred kilometers from Ceylanpinar. Ali yawned, trying to chase away his drowsiness. Too bad he didn't notice the car that was coming from the opposite side. The car had tried to overtake the truck in front- obviously; the driver hadn't checked whether the coast was clear.

You'd know how beverage cans look like when you squish them with your foot. That's exactly how the car looked after the collision with Ali's container. As for Ali's container, well, you couldn't resemble it to anything much. But if I must, I think it looked like an accordion. Needless to say, both drivers were killed.

During the scene investigation, something interesting was found. Hidden in a small area inside the container, there was a box with four test tubes. Lab results revealed that that the tubes contained smallpox viruses. The viruses would probably be used as bio-weapons. The police didn't report this to the press in order to prevent panic. However, they did notify CIA and MI6, because the Syrian government didn't want to look as if they were responsible of a possible terrorist attack.

May 14, 2004

Wimbledon, Surrey

7:00 am-local time

A black Rolls Royce parked in front of Lara Croft's mansion. Two men in dark suits emerged from the car and rang the doorbell. Winston, Lara's butler opened the door.

"How may I help you?" asked Winston.

"Sir, I'm Mr. Smith and this is Mr. Johnston," replied one of them. "We must speak to Miss Croft; it's very urgent."

"Certainly. Please come in. I'll go upstairs and check if she's awake."

"My Lady?" Winston called sheepishly as he touched Lara's arm.

Lara groaned and opened one eye. "What's wrong, Winston? Why did you wake me up so early?"

"My Lady, there are two men downstairs who want to speak with you. They said it was quite urgent."

"What do they want?"

"I don't know, My Lady," Winston replied apologetically. "They insisted on speaking to you, you only."

"Very well, Winston. Why don't you serve them tea while I get dressed?"

"Of course, My Lady."

Ten minutes later, Lara was sitting across the men. She gave them an enquiring look. "I believe you gentlemen didn't come for a friendly visit, did you?"

Smith put his teacup down. "Miss Croft, we have heard of your fame as an archeologist. We also researched your background; so we know everything you've been through. How you survived Egypt."

Lara frowned and furrowed her eyebrows. "So?" she asked sternly.

"We want to make you an offer."

"Before you do, I'd like to know who you work for."

"MI6," Smith replied.

Lara's eyebrows went up in surprise. "Why would MI6 want to work with me? Haven't you got any agents of your own? After all, I'm an archeologist, not a spy."

Smith cleared his throat. "We do, Miss Croft, but none of them are as qualified as you. You see, you have plenty of field experience."

Lara gave them a quizzical look instead of saying anything. Her look was enough to tell them that she needed more information.

Johnston spoke up. "Miss Croft, unless you accept our offer, we can't give you any more information."

Lara thought silently for a moment. "All right gentlemen, I accept your offer," she replied with a sigh.

"Excellent choice, Miss Croft," answered Johnston. "We should get going, Miss Croft."

"I thought you were going to tell me what was going on," Lara protested.

"You will learn everything you need in our headquarters. We aren't authorized to give information," Smith replied.

"Very well, gentlemen. Let's go."

Same day

Richmond, Virginia

1:00 am

The phone on Kurtis Trent's bedside table started to ring. Kurtis groaned and rolled over to pick up the phone.

" 'lo?" Kurtis mumbled.

"Trent, this is Aaron. We-"

Kurtis interrupted. "Nox, do you know what time it is? I was dreaming, for God's sake!"

"I don't give a crap about your dream. You need to be at the clubhouse within 45 minutes."

Kurtis sat up in his bed. "Nox, what's goin' on?"

"You know I can't tell you on the phone. I'll fill you in as soon as you some."

"Gotcha. I'm on my way." Kurtis got out of the bed to get dressed.

The 'clubhouse' was the CIA Operations Center in Langley. 'Nox' was Kurtis's boss, Aaron McCoy. Kurtis called him 'Nox' for, well, no special reason. The name just stuck to him. Aaron was the Chief of Operations. It basically meant that he had the privilege to wake people anytime of the day.

None of this was on Kurtis's mind. He grabbed his holster, Baretta pistol, and backpack, then he locked the door. Soon he was on his Harley, speeding through the empty streets.

Same day

MI6 Headquarters, London

8:00 am

Lara was sitting across a tall man in his early forties or late thirties. He had curly brown hair and bright blue eyes. On his desk was a bronze plate with the inscription, James William Stevenson. He didn't speak when Lara and the two agents entered the room. Instead, he studied Lara for a while, his eyes twinkling.

Lara was starting to lose patience. However, she spoke up politely: "Mr. Stevenson, I hope you didn't bring me all the way just to check me out."

James smiled, flashing his white teeth. "No, Miss Croft. I was thinking whether we made the right choice or not. As far as I can tell, we have."

"I'd really appreciate if you'd get to the point. No offense, I didn't get my sleep; therefore, I'm feeling rather cranky and impatient," Lara replied.

James lifted his right eyebrow. "What do you know about bio-terrorism, Miss Croft?"

"Only what I've read on papers, mostly conspiracy theories. One of those theories involves attacks to countries like Israel and Turkey. But they can't go that far." Lara paused. "Can they?"

James cleared his throat. "Well, they almost did go that far. Yesterday, a traffic accident took place 25 km off the Turkish-Syrian border. A container and a car was involved. Guess what was found during the crime scene research?"

"What?"

"Test tubes. Inside of them were smallpox viruses. Enough to kill thousands. If there had been vaccines, it wouldn't be such a problem. Since 1977, smallpox vaccines haven't been produced."

"Why?"

"Smallpox was last seen in 1977 in Somalia. Health authorities believed that it was eradicated. So, the production of vaccines was stopped. Only USA has these vaccines, but it's inadequate."

Lara jumped in. "So, if nearby countries were targeted, the sight wouldn't be pretty."

"Exactly. Smallpox's death rate is 30-40, but it can lead to blindness, which increases the danger. Vaccine inadequacy simply worsens it."

Lara nodded. "I see. So, where do I come in?"

"We have a contact in Damascus, Syria. You will retrieve information from him. If possible, find documents on manufacturers."

Lara frowned. "You brought me here for this? A retrieval job? Anyone else could have done that!"

James shook his head. "No, you're better than four agents put together. And you speak Arabic like a native."

"Stop sucking up on me!" Lara snapped. "I'll go, but I need to know your offer."

James seemed puzzled. "What offer?"

Lara gave out an exasperated sigh. "I'm not going to do this boring retrieval job for free. You know that, don't you?"

"Oh, right! If you succeed, we'll give you €1500."

"€2500. I won't do this cheap, Mr. Stevenson."

"Ok, twenty-five hundred it is," James replied. He pointed to the door on his right. "Johnston will give you your weapons, clothes and passports."

"I have weapons."

James seemed impressed. "What have you got?"

"I'll bring a pair of 9mm Glock pistols, Uzis, a K2 Impactor, and stealth darts with gun."

"Well! I got tired listening! Johnston will give you the rest. Good luck, Miss Croft."

Lara and Johnston stood up and got out of the door, which James pointed. It opened to a small room with many shelves and drawers. Johnston pulled out a drawer and took out passports, an ID, a cell phone and a sheet of paper.

"I have a cell phone," Lara spoke up.

"Our contact will call you from this phone, Miss Croft. Here you are." He handed her the supplies and Lara put them in her backpack.

"I could use a pair of night-vision goggles, if you have any."

"Hmm… Let's see." Johnston opened a drawer and pulled out two pairs of goggles.

"This is the night-vision goggles." He took the other one to show the sticker. "This one is for thermal vision." Lara examined the goggles and looked through the lens to test it.

"You should see me as red and yellow blotches, Miss Croft."

"Yes, I do." She paused to scan the room with the thermal goggles. "This should come in handy."

Johnston touched his forehead as if he remembered something. "Oh, by the way, you might need this." He handed her a decoder. "If those files are encrypted, this is what you'll need." Suddenly, he changed the subject. "In Damascus, you are Fatima Ramani. You can read your bio during the rest of your journey. At noon we'll pick you up and take you to a British AFB in Damascus."

"All right. Is there anything else I should know?"

Johnston scratched his head as he thought for a minute or so. "Well, I don't need to tell you the importance of this mission. Just try to get it as soon as possible, as CIA an MOSSAD are also aware of this situation. The Syrian government notified us so they wouldn't be held responsible of a possible bio-terrorist attack," Johnston replied.

"I understand. I should go home and start packing. I'll see you at noon."

"I don't think so, Miss Croft. Someone else will pick you up. And one other thing, if anything goes wrong, you were never here, these conversations never took place, Smith and I never picked you up," Johnston warned.

"I know. Take care of yourself, in that case." Lara smiled weakly and left the room."