December 21, 1999
Lara Croft and Tomb Raider are creations of Adrian Smith for Core Design and Eidos Interactive, and Tomb Raider comics are published by Top Cow Productions, Inc.
Batman and related characters are creations of Bob Kane for Detective Comics, and published by DC Comics Inc.
The characters and incidents featured in this story are entirely fictional. Any similarities to persons living or dead are purely coincidental. To infringe or challenge the copyrights or trademarks of the above is not the intention of this author.
THE EXPOSITION - Part Two
The morning light found Lara in the hotel workout room. She stretched, jogged on a treadmill, worked on a punching bag, and finished with a few laps in the pool. Afterwards her muscles were soothed in the Jacuzzi in the room. It was ten minutes after eight when she looked at the time. She counted on her fingers.
"Should be enough time to do the research." She wrapped a towel about her and a second towel around her hair.
The laptop was pulled from the briefcase and connected to the phone jack. She downloaded her e-mail, went offline, and browsed. The responses from her personal secretary were highlighted. Her secretary also sent a note:
Lara,
Shame on you. You should have done this research before your trip. A summary of what I found: press releases from Wayne Enterprises & their divisions on mergers, purchases, sales, as well as new product announcements; annual report from Wayne Enterprises & their divisions; press releases from Gregor, Inc., on purchases & sales of companies; news articles on The Wayne Foundations charity work & charities they sponsor and/or support; tabloid news from different publications in society pages or gossip columns regarding Bruce Wayne. One particular headline about the death of parents. Is there something specific you are looking for?
Connie
P.S. Still researching Elias Gregor.
Lara scanned the press releases and news articles. Page after page zipped through the screen as she caught words here and there. At the tabloid news she stopped and read.
"My word, Mr. Wayne, you have been a busy man. Overindulgence with movie stars and models certainly makes you the ultimate playboy of the highest degree. Now I have an idea of who you are," she grinned.
Lara closed the tabloid news and chuckled. She was about to shut off the laptop, then decided to open the headline news.
A newspaper article appeared with a picture of a little boy looking over two bodies covered with white sheets. His sad eyes and deep frown made her heart sink. She read the article. "Murdered in front of their son..." Both hands covered her mouth.
* * *
Lara arrived at the Galleria at a quarter to ten. She slipped her nametag into the slot, typed a code the guard gave her, and entered. A passing employee directed her to the new exhibit area. She meandered through the other exhibits and stopped to absorb the displays of art, architecture, and artifacts.
Her collection was in the fifth room off the main hallway. The items were placed on individual pedestals with glass protection. She walked around the room and viewed the artifacts. One gold plaque was displayed upside down, and the glass protector was high enough to keep her from reaching inside from the top. But when she tried, she found the protector was not fastened.
"What are you doing?" a voice boomed behind her.
Startled for a moment, she reported, "This piece was upside down. I wanted to correct it."
The gentleman strode to the pedestal and reached with his long arm into the display. "Dr. Croft, you could have broken the glass and injured yourself."
"I assume you are the curator, Willard Slaughter? This glass casing can easily be removed. How secure is this place?" Her eyes narrowed.
"We will have guards posted in the hallways and a security camera," he snapped and pointed to the corner. "If there is anything else--."
"I would like a guard in this room," she demanded and waited for the response from the tall, lanky man.
"Dr. Croft, I don't have the men or funding to hire extra guards. Besides, the other exhibitors will want guards in their rooms, and I don't have them," he argued and stared down at her through his bifocals. "Now, is there anything else?"
Her face turned red and her fists clenched. "Mr. Slaughter, I was promised a secured area for my collection if I came during this exposition. Now I am asking you to make good on that promise."
"The Galleria has the guards and the camera I just showed you. Anything else above that you better speak to your sponsor, because I did not make those promises." He stepped forward. "Now you have books shipped to us that need to be displayed in the gift shop. I suggest you stop there and set it up." He stepped to exit the room.
"Allow me to change the arrangement of a few pieces. I don't like their locations."
Slaughter stopped and surveyed the room. "The pedestals stay where they are, but I'll send someone to assist you."
After he left, Lara fumed. "Arrogant bastard!"
Fifteen minutes later a young man came and helped rearrange the artifacts until she was satisfied. Later he escorted her to the gift shop and assembled the book display, while she stacked the books on a table. Still upset from the encounter with Slaughter, she rattled the table with every book placed.
"Never have I been treated with such contempt! I have a good mind to pull out of this damn exhibition and go home!"
As she crouched down to open the last box, a shadowed appeared over her left shoulder. She flinched and looked up.
"Do you need any help, Dr. Croft?"
"Mr. Wayne." Lara stood up and checked her anger. "Let me ask you straight up. Was it not your office that promised me a secured area for my collection if I allowed it to be displayed during your cultural exposition?"
Bruce furrowed his brow. "Dr. Croft, what is the problem?"
"I distinctly remembered a discussion with a representative of your office regarding a posted guard should I consider the present conditions inadequate. Apparently the curator of this museum was not privy to that information, and treated me with contempt when I requested it. I will not stand for his indignities, nor stay under false pretenses!" she railed.
He looked away from Lara's glare, pulled a cell phone from his pocket, and dialed. "Bruce Wayne here. Who had the responsibility to follow up on the invitation of Lara Croft's collection to the Galleria?... I want to see him first thing Monday morning, my office... Yes..."
Bruce stepped away from her but continued to speak. Lara folded her arms and turned her head to catch any words he said. He turned around and faced her.
"-- a guard, starting tonight and until the following weekend... Burnham Agency will do fine. Have them contact the Galleria for clearance. Any questions have them call me... Very good." He pressed a button and said to her, "Just one moment." He was silent with the phone to his ear, and then spoke, "Willard, Bruce Wayne here. Had a discussion with Dr. Lara Croft and I am arranging a security guard from the Burnham Agency to be posted in her exhibit room during its stay. They will be calling for security clearance, so I wanted you to be aware of it. The Wayne Foundation will pick up the tab. Any questions, call me." He pressed a button and closed the phone. "Voicemail are so impersonal, don't you think?"
"Actually, I enjoy the personal touch." She returned to stack the books.
"Let me apologize for any discomfort, Dr. Croft. That is not--."
"Please, Mr. Wayne," she interrupted. "I appreciate what you have done, but don't apologize for someone's short-sightedness or actions. It's very gallant of you, but not appropriate at the moment."
A couple of books fall off the table.
He bent down and picked them up. "Let me purchase these books."
She smirked. "I am not a charity case, Mr. Wayne."
"Bruce," he responded.
"I beg your pardon?"
"My name is Bruce. And I am purchasing them as an investment, if you will also sign them for me." He smiled and handed her the books.
Lara paused and stared at him. Then she shook her head and sighed. "Oh, alright."
She took his pen and wrote:
To Bruce Wayne,
Thank you for all that you have done.
Sincerely,
Lara Croft
He closed the books and asked, "Would you like a cup of tea, Dr. Croft?"
"Please, call me Lara."
"Well, Lara, it would make me happy if you could join me for lunch and a cup of tea... and I will not take 'no' for an answer."
"You certainly are the charmer, Mr. Wayne," she replied.
"Please, call me Bruce," he teased.
They walked together towards the cafeteria.
* * *
Steven settled in behind his desk and opened a large manual. After reading some pages, he moved his chair behind a keyboard in front of a bank of monitors and typed a few lines of code. The drone of the computers' fans and the clicking of the keys were the only noises that filled the room. He stretched back in his chair and yawned. A blinking light on a corner desk caught his attention. 'Someone is using the phone,' he thought. 'If they are on the network, then I have to wait until they are done and backup their work before I can continue. Got to see who it is.'
The four offices at Gregor Shipping Company were branched off a large room full of cubicles. From the receptionist area, a short hallway led to the large room.
Steven left the server room, walked the hallway to the receptionist area and into the large room. He peered over the cubicles, but heard a heated argument from an office. Another office door opened, and he ducked behind a cubicle.
A tall gentleman exited the office and entered the room where the argument occurred.
Steven tiptoed closer and hid inside the cubicle outside the office. He leaned against the cubicle wall and listened.
"I've been informed by my associate the hardware is secured, General. We are just waiting for payment." Steven heard the voice of Elias Gregor.
"We've run into a problem," a deep accented voice replied.
"So I have seen all over the news! Having problems with the local authorities?"
"My men said a masked man disrupted the exchange. They barely escaped with their hides," the voice argued.
"The sum result is... there is no cash," Gregor hissed.
Steven poked his head above the cubicle to see Gregor's crossed legs resting on a table. Beyond the legs sat Gregor's laptop. On the screen was a dark-skinned man dressed in a military uniform. Only his head and chest were viewable. On top of the laptop was a mini-cam.
"Gregor, I need that equipment now!" the man pounded his table. "The monarch has fallen ill! The country is in chaos! It is an opportune time for me to strike! Release half of the munitions and I will give you an extra ten percent directly!" he fumed and his eyes bulged.
"I'm afraid you don't understand," Gregor said and looked at his fingernails. "This is a cash and carry business. No cash, and you don't carry."
"Fifteen percent!"
"General, no can do. My supplier will not hold credit for this transaction." He scratched his chin.
"Twenty percent!" the man almost jumped out of the screen.
"Sorry, General. No cash, no deal."
"Gregor, help me! Please! That cocaine was to finance everything! Everything!" the man raised his fists and shook them.
Gregor tilted his head, stared at the ceiling, and tapped a finger on his nose.
A couple of seconds passed in silence.
"General, send your men. There is something going on in town that may be your answer. But we will have to talk tomorrow. Have to go before we are traced." He clicked a key to turn off the screen and said, "Voldo, take down the dish and put it aside. I've got a very important appointment I want to keep."
Steven cowered in the corner of the cubicle and waited. He heard footsteps leave, and the entrance door closed. Fifteen minutes passed before he got the nerve to move out of the cubicle. He hurried to the server room and dialed a phone number.
A recording came on. "We're sorry, but the cellular phone customer has either gone beyond our service area or has turned off their phone. Please try again later."
He dialed another number and spoke in a low voice, "Lara Croft's room, please." He waited. "Damn, a message system." He paused, and then said, "Lara, this is Steven. I need to talk with you. I believe Elias Gregor is involved in something but I can't speak right now. It's important that you call me." He left a phone number and hung up. Then he gathered his backpack and left the building.
* * *
Lara and Bruce walked back to the exhibit rooms after their meal. He peppered their conversation with many questions regarding her travels and adventures. She was pleasantly surprised he had an interest in her escapades. She smiled, listened, and enthusiastically answered his questions.
She stopped and faced him. "May I ask a personal question? Have you traveled beyond this city?"
"Why, yes. I've been to London, Paris, Madrid, Berlin, Tokyo, Hong Kong--."
"No, no. That's not what I meant. Not a business trip" She paused. "I mean an expedition where you are off the beaten path, watching nature in all its glory. To view a sunrise in the Serengeti, where the crimson colors dance along the horizon, and the heat ripples off the land. Or walk in the dense foliage of the Amazon jungles, where ground level is in total darkness in the middle of the day and the humidity is so high it drips from every leaf. Or marvel at ancient temples in the Himalayas during winter, when they are covered with snow. Everything becomes silent and pure, and a shiver runs down your spine believing it has become a holy place. Have you ever had an adventure like that?"
"No, I can't say that I have."
"And why not?"
He stammered, "Well... I just... I'm..." He placed his hands in his pockets, tilted his head down, and looked into her eyes. "I guess I'm not as fortunate as you are to travel to such exotic places."
A picture flashed in her mind, and she thought, 'The picture of the boy looking over the bodies had the same sad eyes.' "Well, maybe on my next expedition you could join me for an adventure, if your schedule allows it," Lara quipped.
He smiled and nodded, "Sure."
"Dr. Croft, you're right on time!" Elias Gregor approached and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Hello, Bruce."
"Elias, how are things going?"
They shook hands.
"Unbelievable, Bruce. Just unbelievable."
A cell phone rang. They all checked their phones.
"It's mine," Bruce said.
"Oh, I didn't even have mine on." Lara pressed a button.
"Have you had a good morning so far?" Gregor asked cheerfully.
"Let's say it was interesting," she answered.
"Excuse me, Lara, but I have to attend to something that just came up." Bruce closed his cell phone and walked away.
"Is everything alright?" she asked, but Bruce didn't respond. She watched him jog to the door. Her shoulders dropped as he disappeared. She took a deep breath and brushed back the loose strands of her hair.
Gregor glanced at the door. "So what do you think of Gotham City's most eligible bachelor, Lara? May I call you Lara?"
"Yes, you may." She paused. "Bruce is very intelligent... and he seems to be very reserved."
"Reserved?" His eyes opened wide. "The man has no backbone! He's afraid to take risks! Don't get me wrong. I think he is a very charitable and decent guy, but he's conservative in business management and in the handling of his company, if at all. You do realize he has a playboy mentality."
She crossed her arms and tightened her jaw. "You are very frank with your opinions. What makes you think his intentions are not honorable?"
"Come on," he chuckled. "A beautiful and voluptuous woman like you is every man's desire. Given a chance, they would love to know you in a personal way. Now, take an attractive man who has the money and means to make you comfortable and... what do you think?"
"I don't need his money," she snapped and stared at the door.
Gregor paused. "I'm sorry. I must have stepped on a tender spot." He placed his hand on her shoulder. "Let me show you something." He took her by the arm and directed her to his exhibit room.
"I already took the liberty of examining your impressive art collection," she said.
"Let me tell you this story. I started in real estate years ago, and worked my way up as a broker. I developed properties, did stock investments, bought and sold land, but it still wasn't exciting enough. Then, out of the blue, came a break when I discovered a company was dissolving all its holdings. Going completely under. At that moment I didn't have enough capital to cover the purchase. It was a risky venture, but the return on investment was so great I couldn't pass it up.
"So, I boldly approached Bruce Wayne and laid all my cards on the table. Demonstrated he could triple or quadruple his investment. Even showed he could take one of the holdings and place it under his research division, and still come out ahead.
"He didn't want any part of it! He didn't want to take the risk!
"Well, I left his office and went straight to the bank. I borrowed money by using second mortgages on properties I owned, and cashed in stocks. From then on I begged, borrowed, or stole from a lot of sources to get the money. I placed a bid for a fraction of the company's entire net worth... and I got it! I was ecstatic!
"After that I took each of the company's branches, and holdings, and disassembled them! Picked them clean... and sold them off individually! My return on investment was one hundred fold! It was adventurous! It was risky! It was exciting!
"Naturally, I rewarded myself with all sorts of trinkets. One of them is this painting by Miro. Acquiring it marked a new beginning for me!
"Just like you, my life is now filled with high adventure! We're two of a kind, Lara!"
She stuttered, "I... I don't know about that."
"Yes, we are! We may go about it in a different way, but we want excitement in our lives! To live on the edge and never look back!"
His jubilant nature had her giggling.
He smiled, "Let me tell you the real reason I wanted to meet you, Lara." He cleared his throat and gazed into her eyes. "I want you to work for me."
"Excuse me?" she exclaimed.
"What do I have to do to make that happen?"
"Mr. Gregor, I have no need for money. My explorations are done mostly for sport. The income I receive is derived from books, articles, and lectures. But even if that stops, I have enough to last me the rest of my life. What else could you offer?"
"Listen, Lara, my business allows me to broker a lot of deals. I connect those who are in need with those who have and are willing to supply. And with you as a supplier for extraordinary artifacts, I could definitely find the people in need. So, I don't care if I have to initially contract out your services, or work it on a per-need-basis. The bottom line is... I want you to work exclusively for me."
"The majority of my explorations is field work for research. I am on the roster of the British Museum as a contributor, and they have funded handsomely for my expeditions, up to this point. So I don't see anything more you could offer."
He debated, "I've done my homework. I know you are bumping heads with the curator and his cronies at the museum. They consider what you do adventurism and not archaeology... And some circles have named you the 'Tomb Raider'."
"I've produced results and sound research!" she bristled.
"And ruffled some diplomatic feathers. Your adventures have strained foreign relations for your country with others, like China for example. British politicians have to work overtime to settle any disputes. Pretty soon the British Museum will consider you a liability."
She frowned, "I have connections from my alma mater where I earned my doctorate's degree. There are also a number of American museums that would love to have me as a contributor. So I am not lacking of any alternative solutions."
"Like this, the Galleria?" Gregor smirked. "I'm sure you would love to work with an asshole like Willard Slaughter. But why take that chance? If it's dignity and honor you want, I'll get it for you! Your own museum, your own science labs, your own... Lara Croft-land! Whatever it takes, I'll give you the world! Just say 'yes' to my offer!"
Lara thought for a moment, and then raised her hands, "Please don't take this the wrong way. I don't mind working for you if it is for research or sport, but not for profit. Plus, I cherish my freedom, even with its present difficulties. So I suppose I will pass on your offer for full employment."
"Don't say 'no' just yet," he begged. "Think about it, okay? This is a great opportunity to let pass by so quickly. I just want you to think about it."
"There isn't much to think about. Now if you will excuse me, I must return to the book display." She turned and walked away.
"I'll see you here tonight at the formal opening," he shouted.
Elias Gregor watched Lara's movements, and grinned like the devil.
* * *
"As soon as I came down and saw the flashing light, I called you."
"When did the computer record the signal?" Bruce walked over to the console area.
"Half-hour before I contacted you," Alfred stressed.
Bruce clicked a few keys and watched the monitors. One had a street map of Gotham City, another displayed a satellite view of the coastline and ocean, and a third showed a cartoon commercial for a children's cereal. He pushed a cheek with a forefinger and rested his chin on his thumb.
"Find anything interesting?"
"The signal is not scrambled, but masked or woven within this commercial. There is a digital signal on a different wavelength. Unfortunately the computer can't unlock it." Bruce stared at the commercial.
"Maybe the research department at Wayne Enterprises can assist you."
"Don't have the time for that, Alfred. Let's see if the computer has narrowed the site location where the signal was generated and received." He clicked a few more keys and watched the monitors zoom in.
"From these coordinates on the satellite view, it appears to be in the middle of the ocean," Alfred reported. He looked over to a fourth monitor. "And they are not the same coordinates as last time."
"Must be a vessel of some sort." Bruce looked at the street map. "Fortunately it has narrowed down to this block of buildings. I'll print out a list of present tenants." He clicked a few keys and walked to the printer. "Twenty businesses in these buildings. Most of the tenants are doctors' offices or consultants." He examined the rest of the page. "Six of them have possibilities. I'll investigate further after tonight's event."
"What do you hope to find?"
"Don't know yet." He paused. "Is my tuxedo ready?"
* * *
Lara ate at the hotel's restaurant before returning to her suite. She walked across to the living room balcony and viewed the overburdened skyline of Gotham City. The fumes from city traffic and nearby industry seeped into her nostrils. She held a tissue to her nose and looked at the imposing skyscrapers.
"Frightening," she whispered.
When she stepped into the bedroom the flashing light on the phone caught her eye. After a quick reading of the phone booklet, she retrieved the message. Her eyes opened wider after listening to the message a second time. Immediately she dialed the number but an answering machine responded.
"Steven, call me on the cell phone as soon as you get this message!" Her mind raced for possible reasons why he sounded so urgent. She frowned and walked to the bathroom. "That message was very unsettling. I hope he is not in trouble."
* * *
Security was in full force as the Galleria was illuminated like a rare gem. Searchlights waved their beams into the sky and floodlights washed the banners with vibrant colors. The police positioned wooden barricades to keep the crowds from the entrance and the traffic away from the arriving limousines. Reporters were allowed closer access to the honored guests, and photographers scrambled for the best shot.
Lara's silver limousine arrived. She was dressed in a dark blue gown that hung on her shoulders with spaghetti straps, and had two side cuts from the hem to knees. The front v-neck plunged deep enough to tantalize the males in the crowd. Over this sleeveless gown, she wore the same black jacket and high heels, and carried a black handbag. After stepping out of the limousine, she smiled briefly, nodded to the people, and strode through the gauntlet of photographers. When she looked beyond the flashing lights, her composure stiffened and her smile disappeared.
Behind the nearest barricade a group shouted and held signs that read, 'CROFT IS A GHOUL', 'TOMB RAIDER = GRAVE ROBBER', and 'LARA CROFT GO HOME'. Most of the sign holders looked Asian.
She turned towards the entrance, but a female reporter carrying a microphone confronted her while other reporters with tape recorders trailed behind.
"Lara Croft, we understand that your appearance at the Premier Opening of the Galleria during Gotham City's Cultural Exposition is due to the sponsorship of the Wayne Foundation. Have you met the founder, Bruce Wayne, and what were your reactions?" the reporter quizzed and moved the microphone to Lara's chin.
Lara stepped back and said, "Ah, he seems very nice." She glanced at the Asian group yelling at her.
"I understand you were in China some time ago. What was your purpose there?" the reporter probed.
"No comment." Lara tried to step around.
The reporter intercepted her steps. "Were you responsible for the destruction of the Great Wall?"
"No!" Lara shouted. She moved around the reporter. "No comment!"
A male reporter stepped in front with a tape recorder. "Dr. Croft, I understand you're here to declare you want a love child with Bruce Wayne. How did he react to that?"
She turned red and yelled, "That's ridiculous!" Her arm struck out to push him aside.
Someone grabbed her arm and pulled.
A young man had broken through the barricades and ripped her sleeve. He screamed, "You desecrate our sacred tombs! You desecrate our sacred tombs!"
Before he could spit at her, a policeman seized the young man by the face, whirled him around, and forced him to the ground. Two other officers jumped on the young man's back and handcuffed him.
Astonished, Lara looked at the torn sleeve and then at her assailant. She gritted her teeth and stepped to give the young man a swift kick.
A white hair gentleman blocked her path. "Let's get you inside where it is nice and safe."
Another officer assisted the gentleman in escorting her towards the door.
They were almost at the entrance when a nearby male reporter shouted, "So how many people did you have to sleep with to get your doctor's degree, Doctor Croft?"
Enraged, Lara turned and cracked a left hook on the reporter's chin.
The reporter fell into others, and they all collapsed on the ground like a short stack of dominos. The large clatter, the mass confusion, and the constant flashing of cameras caused two more police officers to separate Lara from the reporters. They hurried her inside while the reporters yelled, "Freedom of the press, Commissioner Gordon! You better frisk her! She's known to carry weapons!"
Inside the Galleria the white hair gentleman pointed at a doorway to a vacant auditorium.
She stormed inside.
He turned to the officers. "You two go back outside and move the reporters away from the entrance. And you, stay here by this door and don't let anyone in the auditorium."
Lara kicked the high heels off and flung them towards the stage. She paced up and down the aisle muttering expletives. The sleeve hung on the jacket with a few threads. After examining it, she clenched a fist in front of her face and closed her eyes.
The gentleman spoke, "Take your time to settle down."
She paced for a couple minutes more, then sat in a chair in the front row.
"Miss, are you alright now?" He strolled towards her.
She glanced at him and nodded.
"Although that jerk may have deserved it, miss, I don't think that was a wise thing to do in front of all those cameras. He may want to sue."
"Let him get in line," she barked.
The gentleman knelt next to her. "Now I don't want you to get flustered, but I have to ask you something."
She turned to him and listened.
"May I look inside your bag?" Without waiting for an answer, he took the handbag and opened it.
Lara frowned. "Are you going to frisk me, detective?"
"Commissioner James Gordon, miss." His white mustache covered the tight frown on his lips.
He dumped out the contents of the handbag: nametag, cell phone, lipstick, mascara, compact, room key, tissues, credit cards, and assorted tickets.
"I know you are a famous celebrity," he whispered as his fingers found a hidden zipper. "But I can't allow you to carry this around while you're angry." He looked over his shoulder and pulled out the 9mm handgun.
"I do have a license for that." Her face was flushed.
"I understand that, but our city ordinances do not allow individuals to carry firearms unless they are court appointed officers of the law, regardless whether you live in the city or not." He looked over his shoulder again. "Now, you seem to be a smart young lady, otherwise you would not have become a doctor. So... due to the circumstances, we will not make a big deal over this. But let me suggest you control that temper of yours, or else it will get you in trouble." He slipped the gun back into the handbag.
A commotion occurred outside the doorway. Gordon stood and looked at the officer.
"Commissioner, that reporter wants to press charges against Miss Croft."
Gordon dropped his head and glanced at Lara. "Sergeant, get a black and white at the service door." He turned to her. "Guess we'll have to take you down to the station."
The cell phone rang.
"Lara, I got your message."
"Steven! Where are you?"
"I'm at a payphone. I need to talk with you."
"Umm... I'm going to be busy--." She eyed Gordon.
He raised two fingers.
"-- for about a couple of hours. Meet me in the lobby or lounge area of the hotel. I'll try to be quick."
She closed the phone, looked up at Gordon and asked, "May I make one more phone call?"
He nodded, and she pressed the numbers.
"Wayne Manor."
"Alfred, may I speak with Bruce?"
"I am sorry, but Mr. Wayne has left to attend the Galleria's Grand Opening. Is there something I could assist you with?"
"No... just tell him I may not be here when he arrives. I have some business to attend to." She retrieved her high heels and slipped them on.
"Very well, Miss Lara. I do hope you have an enjoyable evening. Good night."
"Good night, Alfred," she sighed.
Gordon asked, "Ready, miss?"
Lara took off her jacket and touched the torn sleeve. "Is it possible to walk by my exhibit room, just for a look?" she inquired.
He tilted his head and thought. "Why not. I could use some culture anyway." He extended a bent elbow.
She put her hand inside of his elbow, and they walked out of the auditorium.
* * *
(TO BE CONTINUED)
Lara Croft and Tomb Raider are creations of Adrian Smith for Core Design and Eidos Interactive, and Tomb Raider comics are published by Top Cow Productions, Inc.
Batman and related characters are creations of Bob Kane for Detective Comics, and published by DC Comics Inc.
The characters and incidents featured in this story are entirely fictional. Any similarities to persons living or dead are purely coincidental. To infringe or challenge the copyrights or trademarks of the above is not the intention of this author.
THE EXPOSITION - Part Two
The morning light found Lara in the hotel workout room. She stretched, jogged on a treadmill, worked on a punching bag, and finished with a few laps in the pool. Afterwards her muscles were soothed in the Jacuzzi in the room. It was ten minutes after eight when she looked at the time. She counted on her fingers.
"Should be enough time to do the research." She wrapped a towel about her and a second towel around her hair.
The laptop was pulled from the briefcase and connected to the phone jack. She downloaded her e-mail, went offline, and browsed. The responses from her personal secretary were highlighted. Her secretary also sent a note:
Lara,
Shame on you. You should have done this research before your trip. A summary of what I found: press releases from Wayne Enterprises & their divisions on mergers, purchases, sales, as well as new product announcements; annual report from Wayne Enterprises & their divisions; press releases from Gregor, Inc., on purchases & sales of companies; news articles on The Wayne Foundations charity work & charities they sponsor and/or support; tabloid news from different publications in society pages or gossip columns regarding Bruce Wayne. One particular headline about the death of parents. Is there something specific you are looking for?
Connie
P.S. Still researching Elias Gregor.
Lara scanned the press releases and news articles. Page after page zipped through the screen as she caught words here and there. At the tabloid news she stopped and read.
"My word, Mr. Wayne, you have been a busy man. Overindulgence with movie stars and models certainly makes you the ultimate playboy of the highest degree. Now I have an idea of who you are," she grinned.
Lara closed the tabloid news and chuckled. She was about to shut off the laptop, then decided to open the headline news.
A newspaper article appeared with a picture of a little boy looking over two bodies covered with white sheets. His sad eyes and deep frown made her heart sink. She read the article. "Murdered in front of their son..." Both hands covered her mouth.
* * *
Lara arrived at the Galleria at a quarter to ten. She slipped her nametag into the slot, typed a code the guard gave her, and entered. A passing employee directed her to the new exhibit area. She meandered through the other exhibits and stopped to absorb the displays of art, architecture, and artifacts.
Her collection was in the fifth room off the main hallway. The items were placed on individual pedestals with glass protection. She walked around the room and viewed the artifacts. One gold plaque was displayed upside down, and the glass protector was high enough to keep her from reaching inside from the top. But when she tried, she found the protector was not fastened.
"What are you doing?" a voice boomed behind her.
Startled for a moment, she reported, "This piece was upside down. I wanted to correct it."
The gentleman strode to the pedestal and reached with his long arm into the display. "Dr. Croft, you could have broken the glass and injured yourself."
"I assume you are the curator, Willard Slaughter? This glass casing can easily be removed. How secure is this place?" Her eyes narrowed.
"We will have guards posted in the hallways and a security camera," he snapped and pointed to the corner. "If there is anything else--."
"I would like a guard in this room," she demanded and waited for the response from the tall, lanky man.
"Dr. Croft, I don't have the men or funding to hire extra guards. Besides, the other exhibitors will want guards in their rooms, and I don't have them," he argued and stared down at her through his bifocals. "Now, is there anything else?"
Her face turned red and her fists clenched. "Mr. Slaughter, I was promised a secured area for my collection if I came during this exposition. Now I am asking you to make good on that promise."
"The Galleria has the guards and the camera I just showed you. Anything else above that you better speak to your sponsor, because I did not make those promises." He stepped forward. "Now you have books shipped to us that need to be displayed in the gift shop. I suggest you stop there and set it up." He stepped to exit the room.
"Allow me to change the arrangement of a few pieces. I don't like their locations."
Slaughter stopped and surveyed the room. "The pedestals stay where they are, but I'll send someone to assist you."
After he left, Lara fumed. "Arrogant bastard!"
Fifteen minutes later a young man came and helped rearrange the artifacts until she was satisfied. Later he escorted her to the gift shop and assembled the book display, while she stacked the books on a table. Still upset from the encounter with Slaughter, she rattled the table with every book placed.
"Never have I been treated with such contempt! I have a good mind to pull out of this damn exhibition and go home!"
As she crouched down to open the last box, a shadowed appeared over her left shoulder. She flinched and looked up.
"Do you need any help, Dr. Croft?"
"Mr. Wayne." Lara stood up and checked her anger. "Let me ask you straight up. Was it not your office that promised me a secured area for my collection if I allowed it to be displayed during your cultural exposition?"
Bruce furrowed his brow. "Dr. Croft, what is the problem?"
"I distinctly remembered a discussion with a representative of your office regarding a posted guard should I consider the present conditions inadequate. Apparently the curator of this museum was not privy to that information, and treated me with contempt when I requested it. I will not stand for his indignities, nor stay under false pretenses!" she railed.
He looked away from Lara's glare, pulled a cell phone from his pocket, and dialed. "Bruce Wayne here. Who had the responsibility to follow up on the invitation of Lara Croft's collection to the Galleria?... I want to see him first thing Monday morning, my office... Yes..."
Bruce stepped away from her but continued to speak. Lara folded her arms and turned her head to catch any words he said. He turned around and faced her.
"-- a guard, starting tonight and until the following weekend... Burnham Agency will do fine. Have them contact the Galleria for clearance. Any questions have them call me... Very good." He pressed a button and said to her, "Just one moment." He was silent with the phone to his ear, and then spoke, "Willard, Bruce Wayne here. Had a discussion with Dr. Lara Croft and I am arranging a security guard from the Burnham Agency to be posted in her exhibit room during its stay. They will be calling for security clearance, so I wanted you to be aware of it. The Wayne Foundation will pick up the tab. Any questions, call me." He pressed a button and closed the phone. "Voicemail are so impersonal, don't you think?"
"Actually, I enjoy the personal touch." She returned to stack the books.
"Let me apologize for any discomfort, Dr. Croft. That is not--."
"Please, Mr. Wayne," she interrupted. "I appreciate what you have done, but don't apologize for someone's short-sightedness or actions. It's very gallant of you, but not appropriate at the moment."
A couple of books fall off the table.
He bent down and picked them up. "Let me purchase these books."
She smirked. "I am not a charity case, Mr. Wayne."
"Bruce," he responded.
"I beg your pardon?"
"My name is Bruce. And I am purchasing them as an investment, if you will also sign them for me." He smiled and handed her the books.
Lara paused and stared at him. Then she shook her head and sighed. "Oh, alright."
She took his pen and wrote:
To Bruce Wayne,
Thank you for all that you have done.
Sincerely,
Lara Croft
He closed the books and asked, "Would you like a cup of tea, Dr. Croft?"
"Please, call me Lara."
"Well, Lara, it would make me happy if you could join me for lunch and a cup of tea... and I will not take 'no' for an answer."
"You certainly are the charmer, Mr. Wayne," she replied.
"Please, call me Bruce," he teased.
They walked together towards the cafeteria.
* * *
Steven settled in behind his desk and opened a large manual. After reading some pages, he moved his chair behind a keyboard in front of a bank of monitors and typed a few lines of code. The drone of the computers' fans and the clicking of the keys were the only noises that filled the room. He stretched back in his chair and yawned. A blinking light on a corner desk caught his attention. 'Someone is using the phone,' he thought. 'If they are on the network, then I have to wait until they are done and backup their work before I can continue. Got to see who it is.'
The four offices at Gregor Shipping Company were branched off a large room full of cubicles. From the receptionist area, a short hallway led to the large room.
Steven left the server room, walked the hallway to the receptionist area and into the large room. He peered over the cubicles, but heard a heated argument from an office. Another office door opened, and he ducked behind a cubicle.
A tall gentleman exited the office and entered the room where the argument occurred.
Steven tiptoed closer and hid inside the cubicle outside the office. He leaned against the cubicle wall and listened.
"I've been informed by my associate the hardware is secured, General. We are just waiting for payment." Steven heard the voice of Elias Gregor.
"We've run into a problem," a deep accented voice replied.
"So I have seen all over the news! Having problems with the local authorities?"
"My men said a masked man disrupted the exchange. They barely escaped with their hides," the voice argued.
"The sum result is... there is no cash," Gregor hissed.
Steven poked his head above the cubicle to see Gregor's crossed legs resting on a table. Beyond the legs sat Gregor's laptop. On the screen was a dark-skinned man dressed in a military uniform. Only his head and chest were viewable. On top of the laptop was a mini-cam.
"Gregor, I need that equipment now!" the man pounded his table. "The monarch has fallen ill! The country is in chaos! It is an opportune time for me to strike! Release half of the munitions and I will give you an extra ten percent directly!" he fumed and his eyes bulged.
"I'm afraid you don't understand," Gregor said and looked at his fingernails. "This is a cash and carry business. No cash, and you don't carry."
"Fifteen percent!"
"General, no can do. My supplier will not hold credit for this transaction." He scratched his chin.
"Twenty percent!" the man almost jumped out of the screen.
"Sorry, General. No cash, no deal."
"Gregor, help me! Please! That cocaine was to finance everything! Everything!" the man raised his fists and shook them.
Gregor tilted his head, stared at the ceiling, and tapped a finger on his nose.
A couple of seconds passed in silence.
"General, send your men. There is something going on in town that may be your answer. But we will have to talk tomorrow. Have to go before we are traced." He clicked a key to turn off the screen and said, "Voldo, take down the dish and put it aside. I've got a very important appointment I want to keep."
Steven cowered in the corner of the cubicle and waited. He heard footsteps leave, and the entrance door closed. Fifteen minutes passed before he got the nerve to move out of the cubicle. He hurried to the server room and dialed a phone number.
A recording came on. "We're sorry, but the cellular phone customer has either gone beyond our service area or has turned off their phone. Please try again later."
He dialed another number and spoke in a low voice, "Lara Croft's room, please." He waited. "Damn, a message system." He paused, and then said, "Lara, this is Steven. I need to talk with you. I believe Elias Gregor is involved in something but I can't speak right now. It's important that you call me." He left a phone number and hung up. Then he gathered his backpack and left the building.
* * *
Lara and Bruce walked back to the exhibit rooms after their meal. He peppered their conversation with many questions regarding her travels and adventures. She was pleasantly surprised he had an interest in her escapades. She smiled, listened, and enthusiastically answered his questions.
She stopped and faced him. "May I ask a personal question? Have you traveled beyond this city?"
"Why, yes. I've been to London, Paris, Madrid, Berlin, Tokyo, Hong Kong--."
"No, no. That's not what I meant. Not a business trip" She paused. "I mean an expedition where you are off the beaten path, watching nature in all its glory. To view a sunrise in the Serengeti, where the crimson colors dance along the horizon, and the heat ripples off the land. Or walk in the dense foliage of the Amazon jungles, where ground level is in total darkness in the middle of the day and the humidity is so high it drips from every leaf. Or marvel at ancient temples in the Himalayas during winter, when they are covered with snow. Everything becomes silent and pure, and a shiver runs down your spine believing it has become a holy place. Have you ever had an adventure like that?"
"No, I can't say that I have."
"And why not?"
He stammered, "Well... I just... I'm..." He placed his hands in his pockets, tilted his head down, and looked into her eyes. "I guess I'm not as fortunate as you are to travel to such exotic places."
A picture flashed in her mind, and she thought, 'The picture of the boy looking over the bodies had the same sad eyes.' "Well, maybe on my next expedition you could join me for an adventure, if your schedule allows it," Lara quipped.
He smiled and nodded, "Sure."
"Dr. Croft, you're right on time!" Elias Gregor approached and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Hello, Bruce."
"Elias, how are things going?"
They shook hands.
"Unbelievable, Bruce. Just unbelievable."
A cell phone rang. They all checked their phones.
"It's mine," Bruce said.
"Oh, I didn't even have mine on." Lara pressed a button.
"Have you had a good morning so far?" Gregor asked cheerfully.
"Let's say it was interesting," she answered.
"Excuse me, Lara, but I have to attend to something that just came up." Bruce closed his cell phone and walked away.
"Is everything alright?" she asked, but Bruce didn't respond. She watched him jog to the door. Her shoulders dropped as he disappeared. She took a deep breath and brushed back the loose strands of her hair.
Gregor glanced at the door. "So what do you think of Gotham City's most eligible bachelor, Lara? May I call you Lara?"
"Yes, you may." She paused. "Bruce is very intelligent... and he seems to be very reserved."
"Reserved?" His eyes opened wide. "The man has no backbone! He's afraid to take risks! Don't get me wrong. I think he is a very charitable and decent guy, but he's conservative in business management and in the handling of his company, if at all. You do realize he has a playboy mentality."
She crossed her arms and tightened her jaw. "You are very frank with your opinions. What makes you think his intentions are not honorable?"
"Come on," he chuckled. "A beautiful and voluptuous woman like you is every man's desire. Given a chance, they would love to know you in a personal way. Now, take an attractive man who has the money and means to make you comfortable and... what do you think?"
"I don't need his money," she snapped and stared at the door.
Gregor paused. "I'm sorry. I must have stepped on a tender spot." He placed his hand on her shoulder. "Let me show you something." He took her by the arm and directed her to his exhibit room.
"I already took the liberty of examining your impressive art collection," she said.
"Let me tell you this story. I started in real estate years ago, and worked my way up as a broker. I developed properties, did stock investments, bought and sold land, but it still wasn't exciting enough. Then, out of the blue, came a break when I discovered a company was dissolving all its holdings. Going completely under. At that moment I didn't have enough capital to cover the purchase. It was a risky venture, but the return on investment was so great I couldn't pass it up.
"So, I boldly approached Bruce Wayne and laid all my cards on the table. Demonstrated he could triple or quadruple his investment. Even showed he could take one of the holdings and place it under his research division, and still come out ahead.
"He didn't want any part of it! He didn't want to take the risk!
"Well, I left his office and went straight to the bank. I borrowed money by using second mortgages on properties I owned, and cashed in stocks. From then on I begged, borrowed, or stole from a lot of sources to get the money. I placed a bid for a fraction of the company's entire net worth... and I got it! I was ecstatic!
"After that I took each of the company's branches, and holdings, and disassembled them! Picked them clean... and sold them off individually! My return on investment was one hundred fold! It was adventurous! It was risky! It was exciting!
"Naturally, I rewarded myself with all sorts of trinkets. One of them is this painting by Miro. Acquiring it marked a new beginning for me!
"Just like you, my life is now filled with high adventure! We're two of a kind, Lara!"
She stuttered, "I... I don't know about that."
"Yes, we are! We may go about it in a different way, but we want excitement in our lives! To live on the edge and never look back!"
His jubilant nature had her giggling.
He smiled, "Let me tell you the real reason I wanted to meet you, Lara." He cleared his throat and gazed into her eyes. "I want you to work for me."
"Excuse me?" she exclaimed.
"What do I have to do to make that happen?"
"Mr. Gregor, I have no need for money. My explorations are done mostly for sport. The income I receive is derived from books, articles, and lectures. But even if that stops, I have enough to last me the rest of my life. What else could you offer?"
"Listen, Lara, my business allows me to broker a lot of deals. I connect those who are in need with those who have and are willing to supply. And with you as a supplier for extraordinary artifacts, I could definitely find the people in need. So, I don't care if I have to initially contract out your services, or work it on a per-need-basis. The bottom line is... I want you to work exclusively for me."
"The majority of my explorations is field work for research. I am on the roster of the British Museum as a contributor, and they have funded handsomely for my expeditions, up to this point. So I don't see anything more you could offer."
He debated, "I've done my homework. I know you are bumping heads with the curator and his cronies at the museum. They consider what you do adventurism and not archaeology... And some circles have named you the 'Tomb Raider'."
"I've produced results and sound research!" she bristled.
"And ruffled some diplomatic feathers. Your adventures have strained foreign relations for your country with others, like China for example. British politicians have to work overtime to settle any disputes. Pretty soon the British Museum will consider you a liability."
She frowned, "I have connections from my alma mater where I earned my doctorate's degree. There are also a number of American museums that would love to have me as a contributor. So I am not lacking of any alternative solutions."
"Like this, the Galleria?" Gregor smirked. "I'm sure you would love to work with an asshole like Willard Slaughter. But why take that chance? If it's dignity and honor you want, I'll get it for you! Your own museum, your own science labs, your own... Lara Croft-land! Whatever it takes, I'll give you the world! Just say 'yes' to my offer!"
Lara thought for a moment, and then raised her hands, "Please don't take this the wrong way. I don't mind working for you if it is for research or sport, but not for profit. Plus, I cherish my freedom, even with its present difficulties. So I suppose I will pass on your offer for full employment."
"Don't say 'no' just yet," he begged. "Think about it, okay? This is a great opportunity to let pass by so quickly. I just want you to think about it."
"There isn't much to think about. Now if you will excuse me, I must return to the book display." She turned and walked away.
"I'll see you here tonight at the formal opening," he shouted.
Elias Gregor watched Lara's movements, and grinned like the devil.
* * *
"As soon as I came down and saw the flashing light, I called you."
"When did the computer record the signal?" Bruce walked over to the console area.
"Half-hour before I contacted you," Alfred stressed.
Bruce clicked a few keys and watched the monitors. One had a street map of Gotham City, another displayed a satellite view of the coastline and ocean, and a third showed a cartoon commercial for a children's cereal. He pushed a cheek with a forefinger and rested his chin on his thumb.
"Find anything interesting?"
"The signal is not scrambled, but masked or woven within this commercial. There is a digital signal on a different wavelength. Unfortunately the computer can't unlock it." Bruce stared at the commercial.
"Maybe the research department at Wayne Enterprises can assist you."
"Don't have the time for that, Alfred. Let's see if the computer has narrowed the site location where the signal was generated and received." He clicked a few more keys and watched the monitors zoom in.
"From these coordinates on the satellite view, it appears to be in the middle of the ocean," Alfred reported. He looked over to a fourth monitor. "And they are not the same coordinates as last time."
"Must be a vessel of some sort." Bruce looked at the street map. "Fortunately it has narrowed down to this block of buildings. I'll print out a list of present tenants." He clicked a few keys and walked to the printer. "Twenty businesses in these buildings. Most of the tenants are doctors' offices or consultants." He examined the rest of the page. "Six of them have possibilities. I'll investigate further after tonight's event."
"What do you hope to find?"
"Don't know yet." He paused. "Is my tuxedo ready?"
* * *
Lara ate at the hotel's restaurant before returning to her suite. She walked across to the living room balcony and viewed the overburdened skyline of Gotham City. The fumes from city traffic and nearby industry seeped into her nostrils. She held a tissue to her nose and looked at the imposing skyscrapers.
"Frightening," she whispered.
When she stepped into the bedroom the flashing light on the phone caught her eye. After a quick reading of the phone booklet, she retrieved the message. Her eyes opened wider after listening to the message a second time. Immediately she dialed the number but an answering machine responded.
"Steven, call me on the cell phone as soon as you get this message!" Her mind raced for possible reasons why he sounded so urgent. She frowned and walked to the bathroom. "That message was very unsettling. I hope he is not in trouble."
* * *
Security was in full force as the Galleria was illuminated like a rare gem. Searchlights waved their beams into the sky and floodlights washed the banners with vibrant colors. The police positioned wooden barricades to keep the crowds from the entrance and the traffic away from the arriving limousines. Reporters were allowed closer access to the honored guests, and photographers scrambled for the best shot.
Lara's silver limousine arrived. She was dressed in a dark blue gown that hung on her shoulders with spaghetti straps, and had two side cuts from the hem to knees. The front v-neck plunged deep enough to tantalize the males in the crowd. Over this sleeveless gown, she wore the same black jacket and high heels, and carried a black handbag. After stepping out of the limousine, she smiled briefly, nodded to the people, and strode through the gauntlet of photographers. When she looked beyond the flashing lights, her composure stiffened and her smile disappeared.
Behind the nearest barricade a group shouted and held signs that read, 'CROFT IS A GHOUL', 'TOMB RAIDER = GRAVE ROBBER', and 'LARA CROFT GO HOME'. Most of the sign holders looked Asian.
She turned towards the entrance, but a female reporter carrying a microphone confronted her while other reporters with tape recorders trailed behind.
"Lara Croft, we understand that your appearance at the Premier Opening of the Galleria during Gotham City's Cultural Exposition is due to the sponsorship of the Wayne Foundation. Have you met the founder, Bruce Wayne, and what were your reactions?" the reporter quizzed and moved the microphone to Lara's chin.
Lara stepped back and said, "Ah, he seems very nice." She glanced at the Asian group yelling at her.
"I understand you were in China some time ago. What was your purpose there?" the reporter probed.
"No comment." Lara tried to step around.
The reporter intercepted her steps. "Were you responsible for the destruction of the Great Wall?"
"No!" Lara shouted. She moved around the reporter. "No comment!"
A male reporter stepped in front with a tape recorder. "Dr. Croft, I understand you're here to declare you want a love child with Bruce Wayne. How did he react to that?"
She turned red and yelled, "That's ridiculous!" Her arm struck out to push him aside.
Someone grabbed her arm and pulled.
A young man had broken through the barricades and ripped her sleeve. He screamed, "You desecrate our sacred tombs! You desecrate our sacred tombs!"
Before he could spit at her, a policeman seized the young man by the face, whirled him around, and forced him to the ground. Two other officers jumped on the young man's back and handcuffed him.
Astonished, Lara looked at the torn sleeve and then at her assailant. She gritted her teeth and stepped to give the young man a swift kick.
A white hair gentleman blocked her path. "Let's get you inside where it is nice and safe."
Another officer assisted the gentleman in escorting her towards the door.
They were almost at the entrance when a nearby male reporter shouted, "So how many people did you have to sleep with to get your doctor's degree, Doctor Croft?"
Enraged, Lara turned and cracked a left hook on the reporter's chin.
The reporter fell into others, and they all collapsed on the ground like a short stack of dominos. The large clatter, the mass confusion, and the constant flashing of cameras caused two more police officers to separate Lara from the reporters. They hurried her inside while the reporters yelled, "Freedom of the press, Commissioner Gordon! You better frisk her! She's known to carry weapons!"
Inside the Galleria the white hair gentleman pointed at a doorway to a vacant auditorium.
She stormed inside.
He turned to the officers. "You two go back outside and move the reporters away from the entrance. And you, stay here by this door and don't let anyone in the auditorium."
Lara kicked the high heels off and flung them towards the stage. She paced up and down the aisle muttering expletives. The sleeve hung on the jacket with a few threads. After examining it, she clenched a fist in front of her face and closed her eyes.
The gentleman spoke, "Take your time to settle down."
She paced for a couple minutes more, then sat in a chair in the front row.
"Miss, are you alright now?" He strolled towards her.
She glanced at him and nodded.
"Although that jerk may have deserved it, miss, I don't think that was a wise thing to do in front of all those cameras. He may want to sue."
"Let him get in line," she barked.
The gentleman knelt next to her. "Now I don't want you to get flustered, but I have to ask you something."
She turned to him and listened.
"May I look inside your bag?" Without waiting for an answer, he took the handbag and opened it.
Lara frowned. "Are you going to frisk me, detective?"
"Commissioner James Gordon, miss." His white mustache covered the tight frown on his lips.
He dumped out the contents of the handbag: nametag, cell phone, lipstick, mascara, compact, room key, tissues, credit cards, and assorted tickets.
"I know you are a famous celebrity," he whispered as his fingers found a hidden zipper. "But I can't allow you to carry this around while you're angry." He looked over his shoulder and pulled out the 9mm handgun.
"I do have a license for that." Her face was flushed.
"I understand that, but our city ordinances do not allow individuals to carry firearms unless they are court appointed officers of the law, regardless whether you live in the city or not." He looked over his shoulder again. "Now, you seem to be a smart young lady, otherwise you would not have become a doctor. So... due to the circumstances, we will not make a big deal over this. But let me suggest you control that temper of yours, or else it will get you in trouble." He slipped the gun back into the handbag.
A commotion occurred outside the doorway. Gordon stood and looked at the officer.
"Commissioner, that reporter wants to press charges against Miss Croft."
Gordon dropped his head and glanced at Lara. "Sergeant, get a black and white at the service door." He turned to her. "Guess we'll have to take you down to the station."
The cell phone rang.
"Lara, I got your message."
"Steven! Where are you?"
"I'm at a payphone. I need to talk with you."
"Umm... I'm going to be busy--." She eyed Gordon.
He raised two fingers.
"-- for about a couple of hours. Meet me in the lobby or lounge area of the hotel. I'll try to be quick."
She closed the phone, looked up at Gordon and asked, "May I make one more phone call?"
He nodded, and she pressed the numbers.
"Wayne Manor."
"Alfred, may I speak with Bruce?"
"I am sorry, but Mr. Wayne has left to attend the Galleria's Grand Opening. Is there something I could assist you with?"
"No... just tell him I may not be here when he arrives. I have some business to attend to." She retrieved her high heels and slipped them on.
"Very well, Miss Lara. I do hope you have an enjoyable evening. Good night."
"Good night, Alfred," she sighed.
Gordon asked, "Ready, miss?"
Lara took off her jacket and touched the torn sleeve. "Is it possible to walk by my exhibit room, just for a look?" she inquired.
He tilted his head and thought. "Why not. I could use some culture anyway." He extended a bent elbow.
She put her hand inside of his elbow, and they walked out of the auditorium.
* * *
(TO BE CONTINUED)