Moscow Vendetta
The sun was beginning to set as Lara Croft stepped onto the Russian hotel balcony. She didn't like it here, period. Although Lara had worked here before, tonight she couldn't want to be home more. It was cold, for one thing. Out of many climates, a Russian winter was one of the coldest. It wasn't like Antarctica, of course, but still, cold enough that some regions stayed in permafrost, frozen solid year round. . To make matters worse, she had a headache. It was probably caused by all the stress of bickering and hassling. She looked out across the tranquility of the city park across the street. She found herself wishing that life at the moment had at least a fraction of that peacefulness.She had come to Rostov-na-Dona to bargain for a rare and priceless artifact, a century-old figurine. In World War II, the Russians had hidden it for fear the Nazis would steal it, should they capture the city of Stalingrad. Decades later, the government found the artifact locked away in an old safe, forgotten. Unsure of it's value, they had given it to a Moscow museum. Lara had bargained for it, but all that happened was a long, heated argument. In the end, she was no better off. Then, to make matters worse, the museum had been burgled! The artifact was gone.Lara shivered, her head throbbing. She just wanted to go home!
Just then, a shout broke the silence of the evening. Lara turned, surprised. Down the street, two cars were blockading the road. On their side, in Cyrillic characters, was the word, "Militia." Police.
Something was seriously wrong. "You on the balcony! You are under arrest!" came a shout in accented English. "Oh, no. Not again," Lara mumbled under her breath. She went inside to get a jacket. This wasn't helping her headache, at all! She walked out onto the balcony, her hands in the air. "Officers, I-," she began in Russian. She didn't finish the sentence, because that's when the bomb exploded.
Lara groaned and sat up. Her head was hurting insanely. She was soaking wet, and absolutely freezing. Opening her eyes, she saw that she was sitting in a snow bank in the park across the street. As cold and wet as the snow was, it had saved her life. Getting to her feet, she turned to survey the scene behind her. From the hotel, black smoked curled from what used to be her hotel room. The manager was jabbering away at the firemen. From a nearby truck, jets of water were lancing their way up to the smoking ruin. A crowd stood behind a barricade, some snapping pictures, others just simply watching.
Lara realized that the authorities wouldn't know that she hadn't planted the bomb. At the moment, were talking with the hotel manager, trying to calm the small man. She would have to lie low.
As the authorities for many countries have found, Lara Croft never, ever books just one hotel room. She always has two or more secondary lodgings, should problems arise, and never under the same name. She'd done just that before the journey to Russia, and had chosen one on the outskirts. That way, escape or pursuit were easier. Lara sat on the bed, scanning the militia channels, and pondering her predicament. Someone had obviously tipped off the police, but who? It was unlikely that they had visited her because she was a possible suspect. Lara sighed. Why did things have to be so complicated?
Although the radio was on, Lara was hardly listening... until now. "Armed… burglars… museum… artifact… outbound for Elektrostal… pursuit…," crackled one voice. Although it was a little garbled, Lara realized what was happening. A second broke in: "Send…back-up… hurry! Lara reached for her dual GLOCK 17Ls on the bedside table.
So that's where the pigs were. Fleeing to Elektrostal! Elektrostal was a smoggy, industrial town. It would be easy to disappear in. Lara had no intention of letting them do that. At the moment, she was on the tail of the thieves on her Kawasaki Ninja 250R. Up ahead, she saw flashing blue-red lights. She was gaining! Drawing one pistol, she loaded a clip. Judging by the muzzle flashes ahead, she would need it. Getting closer, she saw that they were in a large cargo truck, with a gunman firing a PP-19 Bizon 2 from the bed. The short, stocky submachine gun was handled by a thuggish man, laying intensive fire on the police. Seeing a car pulling off into the ditch, she assumed he was doing quite well. For now.
She was formulating a plan as she drove, even at break-neck speed. If she put on enough speed, she could jump out onto the bed of the truck from an overpass being constructed. Lara pondered the option. It might work, but she would need to reach the overpass on time! She pulled off the highway, smashing through a road works blockade. Below her, flame mushroomed into the air as a car exploded. Either it was a lucky hit to the fuel tank, or grenades. Probably option number two. Up ahead, the bridge crossing over the highway was out, all part of her plan. She began making calculations. She might make it, if she gave it more speed. Almost… yes! She had done it.
Sailing through the air, she had to make two split-second shots, and they had to be accurate. She fired. The first shot was aimed at the gunman, who had seen her and was firing like mad. Even so, he was merely an amateur, and the shots stood little chance of hitting their mark. The second was aimed for the hinge of the truck bed. Both shots were deadly accurate. The gunman screamed and fell out of the truck as the bed swung open. Ripping through the canvas, the Kawasaki thudded into the truck. Lara winced, thinking of the damage to the shock absorbers, but there was no time to worry about that. Looking back, she savored the shocked look on the militia's faces. There was a pile of crates in the bed of the truck, but the one containing the sculpture wasn't difficult to find. It was set apart from the rest, and was great care had obviously been taken in protecting it.
Climbing onto the roof, she considered killing the driver. No, she wanted at least one of them face justice! So, in the end, she swung through the side window, shattering the glass. The driver's face lit up in shock… then drooped into unconsciousness as Lara's feet slammed into his head. As he slumped to the side, Lara pushed him onto the floor.
Taking the steering wheel, she swung the truck around, heading back in the direction she came from. The militia tried the same move, although some less gracefully. Still, they were on her tail. Lara clenched her teeth in frustration. Then she noticed the cylindrical grenades on the floor. Picking one up, she realized what it was.All the militia saw was hand poke out of the window, then seconds later, a thick blanket of smoke enshrouded them. When the smoke cleared, the truck was parked neatly in the ditch. The militia threw open their car doors, moving to surround the vehicle. Throwing open the driver's door, they found nothing but glass shards and the unconscious driver. In the bed of the truck, the Kawasaki sat waiting, although it was unlikely to be ridden again. The relic was nowhere to be found. From where she watched, Lara smiled. It was time to go home.