An Extra Pair of Hands

By Demet Acargil

Prologue:

Kurtis sat up on his bed, his bandaged chest heaving up and down. Wow, that was some bad dream! He thought. He'd dreamt of the Nephilim; some of their graves had been opened. They were moving stiffly, like mummies in horror films. Kurtis got up to drink a glass of water.

There was a person with him, a face that was unfamiliar. However, he remembered every detail of the face. The woman was a small, with long black hair and dark brown eyes. She possessed a great power, so great that even she didn't know. The mysterious woman stood in front of a mosque. There was also something sparkly in his dream; he also remembered that as he filled his glass. His eyes opened wide when he remembered what it was; he had to sketch it. He stared at his notepad and pencil; the objects floated to his hand. Kurtis opened his notepad and started drawing. When he was done; a gem was staring at him from the notepad. A book flew past his ear and fluttered its pages till the picture of the gem appeared before Kurtis. Kurtis read about the gem and found out it was a diamond. When he finished, he realized that his dream wasn't just a dream. There was one person who could help him. He lifted his phone's receiver and dialed a number…

Lara was reading the morning papers when the phone rang. She had given Winston the weekend off, so she ran to answer the phone.

"The Croft residence."

"Hi, Lara."

Lara recognized the voice. "Hi Kurtis, what' the matter? You wouldn't call unless something was wrong."

"Listen, Lara. I'll be heading to Istanbul. I need you to meet me there. Our business with the Cabal hasn't ended, as far as I'm concerned."

Lara nodded. "I see. Why Istanbul?"

"To tell you the truth, I really don't know. My gut feeling is leading me there. Let's not forget to find a translator; my Turkish is horrible."

Lara smiled at Kurtis' remark. "I have a friend there. She'll help us out."

"Great, I'll meet you there."

"Wait, I should give you my friend's phone number. You'll contact me from there."

Kurtis wrote down the numbers Lara had told him. "Why does she have so many numbers?"

"I only gave her mobile phone, office and house number."

"Ok, see you."

"Bye." Lara hung up when she heard the click. She checked the grandfather clock; it was 9:45 AM. Must be 11:45 there, thought Lara. I'll call her a few hours later. In the meantime, I'll work out. She went to her assault course.

Lara put her weights down two hours later. She wiped her face with a towel and called her friend.

Ayla slumped on her chair hopelessly. She'd just come from the Dean's office and had a fight with him. He didn't approve Ayla's method of teaching archeology. Screw him! She thought as she glared out the window. How she longed for field practice. Ayla heard her secretary's phone ring. "Now what," she muttered. She heard her secretary speak English, which surprised her a bit. Anyway, Nurdan, her secretary, poked her head in and told Ayla that her friend Lara was on the other end.

Ayla picked up the phone with joy and curiosity; they hadn't seen each other for a long time and Lara wouldn't call unless it was important.

"Hello?"

"Hi Ayla; it's me, Lara Croft. Look, in a couple of hours, I'll be in Istanbul. Could you pick me up?"

"Sure I'll pick you up. What's going on? I doubt you're coming as a tourist, am I right?"

Lara sighed at the other end. "To tell the truth, I have no idea. I only know that I'm supposed to meet someone there, that I have unfinished business."

"Hmm, I see." Actually, Ayla didn't see anything at all, but she knew she'd eventually find out. "So, when will your plane land?"

"4PM, if nothing goes wrong."

"Ok, see you then!" Both hung up.

Ayla remained on her chair thoughtfully. It had almost been ten years since they'd seen each other. She leaned back as memories rushed through her head:

Ayla's father was the gardener and her mother was the cook in the Croft mansion. Since Lara was an only child, Sir Henshingly Croft didn't seem to mind the girls playing together. (Actually, Sir Croft didn't approve of Lara playing with the daughter of the employees-the lower class- but Lara did as she pleased.) When Ayla's father died, her mother and she returned to Turkey, but Ayla went back to England to finish her education. Lara and she were last together at Ayla's graduation ceremony. Ayla had to leave the day after, as her mother was diagnosed with breast cancer; she died shortly after Ayla's return.

Her reflection on the mirror caught Ayla's attention. She stood up and walked up to it. "Ten years," she said softly. She studied her face. "Great, another wrinkle," she grumbled. Ayla pulled her cheeks back, hoping the past decade would return. "Face it, you're thirty-seven and you're not getting any younger."

Nurdan knocked on the door and told her that the dean wanted to speak with her again. Ayla huffed and went out of her office.

Lara started packing, but stopped when she touched her pistols. How can I get them through the x-ray unnoticed? Lara had an idea; she unassembled the weapons and put them in different suitcases. "There," she said with a satisfied voice. Afterwards she packed the usual stuff, clothes, toothbrush, etc. Last, she put Kurtis' Chirugai in her suitcase.

A taxi came fifteen minutes later to take her to the airport. Soon, she way on her way to the airport.

JFK International Airport

New York City

Kurtis stared intently at the list of names that were involved with Eckhart. Kristina Boaz was dead, so was Manfred Muller, and Eckhart himself. He knew that Martin Gunderson was alive; what had happened to Karel was a mystery. Kurtis looked at the last name on the list: Albert Rouze. Kurtis' eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully; now he was a true enigma. All Kurtis could find out was his birth date (November 11, 1936), place of birth (Graz, Austria) and his job at the Strahov (an archivist). Kurtis smacked the list against his knee. There's got to be more than this, he thought as he lit a cigarette. If he's the archivist, he must know everything that's going on in there. He checked the notebook his father had given him. Well what do you know? He's Eckhart's apprentice. Too bad I hadn't checked this earlier.

He was a Jew, his family had been sent to Auschwitz and was never heard from again. Rouze must have found a way to hide from the Nazis. Kurtis took out his pen and started taking notes:

If he's Eckhart's apprentice, he definitely is another Dark Alchemist.

In that case, he must be sharing Eckhart's goal: To revive the Nephilim and enslave the human race.

Conclusion: Stop Albert Rouze. But find more about him.

The flight attendant announced that the plane for Istanbul was ready for take off. Kurtis gathered his stuff and headed to the gate.

A tall, bald man dialed a number on his mobile phone. "Hello, Herr Rouze. Gunderson here. Herr Trent boarded the airport." He paused a moment as Rouze talked. "As you know, Herr Rouze, Turks are very hospitable. We will treat him like a king," sneered Gunderson. "Of course Herr Rouze. Auf Wiedersehen."

"God, I hate this traffic," mumbled Ayla angrily. She honked at the car that had passed at the red light. Another car was honking behind her, protesting her stopping at the red light. She stuck out her head out the window and yelled at the driver: "You idiot, are you color blind!"

"We're in a hurry!"

"Well, so am I!" Ayla snapped back. Fortunately the light had turned green. Ayla switched gears and drove on. How nice, I'm going to be late. Her eyes darted to the LCD clock; it showed 3:45 PM.

"I'll never make it on time!" Ayla moaned.

Lara stepped off the plan at 4:15, with a slight delay. As she waited for her suitcase to appear at the baggage delivery, she noticed a familiar face approaching her, smiling and waving at the same time. Lara picked up her suitcase, which had come just in time, and quickly walked up to Ayla. Ayla opened her arms and hugged her.

"Lara dear, I've missed you so much!"

"I missed you too." Lara pulled herself away to look at Ayla. "I really did."

Ayla smiled. "I didn't realize until I saw you. She paused. "Are you immune to aging? You haven't changed a bit!" Ayla looked at Lara with envy, remembering her confrontation against her reflection.

Lara shrugged and smiled. "I'm hungry. Lt's eat kebab!"

"Sure why not?"

Lara picked up her suitcase and the ladies headed for the exit.