The humid air hung heavy with murmurs and anticipation, spritzed with expensive cologne and eau du parfum. Every major fashion house was represented in this elegant and well appointed Hampton's country mansion. Chanel, Yves Saint Laurent, Givenchy, Dior, Prada, Valentino… One would be forgiven for thinking that this was the opening event of the Paris Fashion Week. Although, Lara noted with distaste, the dresses would be a little more current and better fitted and the suits a little less customised to hide expensive side arms, if that were the case. Did these people not know that while style was timeless, fashion moved in seasons?
The expensive ceiling fans barely stirred the air in the crowded room. Lara shifted in her chair, her long elegant legs crossed, fanning herself with the expensive brochure, waiting for the first lot to start. The room was crammed with representatives from so many of the treasure hunting dynasties. Her mouth quirked in a tiny smile, thinking about what chaos one single call to the IRS would bring down upon this exclusive little gathering.
There was Alexa Petraki, looking every inch her sixty two years, flanked by a man who must surely be her brother in law, he looked so like Nicholas. They exchanged a discreet little finger wave across the room. No doubt she was here for the beautiful little Macedonian bracelet in lot 292.
Behind her was, oh goodness, there was Zhang Lo… she'd better do well to avoid him on the way out. He still looked so much younger than his brothers, clearly he'd inherited their role in the family business now that he was all grown up. What was he searching for? There was no telling with the Lo family.
There were so many members of the Illuminati, and it made an interesting little game for Lara to watch which ones knew of each other, which ones didn't, which awarenesses went one way… really, they'd stand a much better chance at long term world domination if they'd all come out of the closet to each other, they were even worse than the Scientologists…
Ah, and there were Mr Sullivan and Mr Drake. At least they'd had the good manners to introduce themselves without an alias. Although, there were so many open secrets in this room, it would be the height of rudeness to pretend a false identity. Lara giggled to herself as Victor's appreciative glance swept across her as Nate slapped him discreetly on the arm. It was nice to know she could still have this effect when she put the style on. Such as shame that Nate was married, he really was a beautiful man, and she would just bet that there was a fascinating web of scars and stories that spread across the skin of that firm, toned…
"Ladies, Gentlemen, Honoured Guests…"
Ahem! Back to business.
"We are pleased to present lot 101. This magnificent portrait of Professor Henry Walton Jones, painted in 1973, a gift from Marshall College upon his appointment to the position of Professor Emeritus at the Department of Archaeology and Anthropology, painted by…"
Lara zoned out. The portrait she'd been admiring with her new acquaintances was magnificent but not of interest to her. Hillary would no doubt be ecstatic if she brought it home to add to the collection for him to dust and polish, but really this portrait should only go to someone who simply adored Professor Jones. The sort of person who fell in love across time, hopelessly and utterly, who would bid him good morning and good night with a longing in their soul. There were two or three candidates shifting restlessly in their seats already, some in their seventies, former students perhaps? There was also one enthusiastic old dear who had to be over ninety, panting in her wheelchair. That dear man had obviously left a trail of broken hearts across the world on his travels.
She flipped back through the glossy brochure to the lot that had brought her across the oceans to this event. Lot 428. Perhaps she had been foolish to wear the necklace today, but truly, she couldn't resist. This was the best thing that had come out of her trip to Peru, and spying the earrings had been too much of a temptation. Not only were they exquisite, unique and examples of master craftsmanship, they held the key to a long slumbering mystery which had intrigued her since her first visit to South America.
"Lot 179, a small wooden drinking vessel, hand carved, believed to be one of several made by Dr Henry Jones Sr. toward the end of his life..."
If the presence of several elderly and agitated Cardinals from the Catholic and Orthodox Greek Churches was anything to judge by, then one of the wilder rumours about Professor Jones and his adventures with his father deserved to be given credence. Victor Sullivan was giggling into his complimentary champagne. She couldn't decide whether that meant he was unaware of the story, or simply aware of all of it.
"Lot 293, 'The Staff of Ra'. An heirloom of the Ravenwood family, passed down from father to daughter, inherited by Mr Henry Williams, a beautifully wrought golden medallion, inscribed with egyptian heiroglyphics…"
Here we go…
As expected, bidding on this item was fierce. However, towards the end there were only few to rival Lara's bidding power. An aristocratic pile of inheritance did have some compensations it was true. A neat and orderly $2.5million and Lara had secured her first purchase. Was it just her, or did Sullivan look nervous ... and Drake seemed... optimistic? Clearly Sullivan knew the extent of her fortune while Drake was hoping that she'd spent herself out. Sensing that several of the prestigious audience may need to review their spending power and priorities, the auctioneer wisely called a halt and arranged for refreshments to be served.
Now, should she be a good girl and focus strictly on business? Or was this an opportunity to play a few little games? She fished out a compact mirror to check her lipstick and pull the odd artless curl into place. Across the room, Nate Drake raised a glass of champagne to her with a quirked eyebrow of invitation. Well… she smiled, after all, there was no reason why she couldn't mix business with a little pleasure…
***
"What in the world are you waving to that woman for?"
"Relax Sully, didn't you just say yourself she was an absolute delight?"
"To look at across the room, sure, but for polite small talk, I didn't mean…"
"Sully, she's wearing half of what we need around that pretty throat of hers. I'd far rather have her where I can see here, wouldn't you?"
"Well now that you say it like that…"
"Gentlemen…"
"Lara, my dear, a pleasant day so far?"
"Extremely…" Lara set her empty glass down on a passing tray.
"You appear to have had one of the most hotly contested successes so far?"
"The Staff of Ra? Oh yes … my father used to tell me stories about it. He would joke about using it to find hidden objects in my room when I was just a little girl."
We're being tested, thought Nate, shrewdly. She's seeing how much we're aware of.
"So long as he remembered to read both sides."
Her eyes narrowed in appreciative amusement. "Quite."
Heh, gotcha. We're better read than you think lady.
"And do you have your eye on anything today?"
"My eye? Plenty," Sully's legendary smile crinkled across his cheeks. "My wallet might be another matter. But what's this my dear, are you scoping out the competition?"
"Oh, dear no Victor, I'd be talking with the Russians if that were the case. But just between us, any little gems?"
"Well … let's just say lot 950 has significant sentimental value."
"Sentimental?"
"All of us have a story that got us hooked. This was the one for me."
Lara flipped through the booklet and understood instantly when her eyes settled on the small statue, rendered in what had to be solid gold. The oversized bald head, the grimace of bared teeth, obviously a fertility idol.
"Beautiful … but I think the booklet is incorrect. It's not Incan, is it…"
"An easy mistake to make. But you are quite correct, it's older than Incan. Chachapoyan. Likely based on an even older artifact, possibly Aztec."
"It must be worth…"
"Billions."
A beat of silence passed between them as each of them realised that even if their efforts were pooled and all favours called in, they could never afford to bid on such a delicious little piece of history. A flicker of fear passed over all of their faces in quick succession as they all glanced around, wondering who in the room had the resources to compete for, and secure, such an artefact.
"What about you, Nathan?"
"Oh…" he smiled, playing his cards close to his chest. "Just looking, in all likelihood. I'd have an interest in some of the notebooks, depending on the reserve price. We'll see."
"Do excuse me gentlemen, I need to go and see an old friend…"
Nate craned his head to see who she was going to meet and cringed inwardly to see her embrace Alexa Petraki. At least that wasn't someone he'd ever knowingly ended up on the wrong side of, and very glad he was for that the continue to be the case. There were a few people here who had him tempted to duck around pillars based on reputation alone, but there weren't too many personal ghosts, thank goodness.
"Ladies, Gentlemen, Honoured Guests…" the Maitre D's illustrious voice intoned across the reception room, gathering his guests back together for part two of the auction.
"Well," Sully drained the last of his champagne. "Let's get back to it Nate. You all set for the right lot?"
Nate's glance drifted across the room and lighted upon another stunning brunette guest, a slick sight for sore eyes in an immaculate black Gucci dress. The slightest ghost of a wink and Chloe Fraser turned her back, as planned, and went to take her seat.
"Oh yeah," he set down his own barely touched glass, razor sharp and alert. "Locked and loaded Sully. Locked and loaded."
