The Opera House
The slide down the slope was short, and she came out on a wooden platform overlooking several close-knit buildings. A heavy wooden crate was swinging in front of her, the cult logo stamped on it as well.
The last bits of light from the sun was almost completely faded away now, dusk now settling in for the night. Stars were slowly appearing up in the black canvas, something that was quite a sight from her standpoint here in Venice.
The sky just looked different somehow here than the one she spied from the United States, or even her home in England. Her attention was taken away from the night sky as she heard footsteps below, which stopped abruptly as she took several steps. "Markus…? Is that you? What took you so long…?"
She tiptoed quietly around the perimeter of the small platform, careful to avoid the deadly swinging of the storage crate. There was an opening in the roof on the building across from her; only a small leap away. She tightened the Velcro straps on her fingerless gloves, the air rushing past her neck as she took several steps back in preparation.
The guard's voice floated up to her ears,
"What are you doing up there…?"
She took off at a sprint, jumping as only one foot was left on the wooden platform. She was soaring across the canal like a bird, and in a flash was on a wooden trapdoor set into the roof of the crumbling building.
"Who's there?! Who are you?!"
She crouched down, drawing her pistols and pulling and then close to her chest in a raised position.
"What are you doing in this part of town…?" She asked smoothly, keeping her tone casual.
He must have noticed her accent and asked back smugly,
"And what is a northwestern aristocrat bloke doing in these streets?"
She laughed out loud, cold and without emotion.
"What about the dagger interests your mafia group…or should I say cult?" She said, quickly cutting to the chase.
"The Fiama Nera have been worshipping the Dagger of Xian since ancient times, all the way back to the Final Battle of the Great War…"
"So you're a Tibetan…monk?" She asked, thinking there was only the warrior monks who worshipped the dagger.
"Bah, how dare you mistake me for one of them." He spat at her, true disgust in his voice.
"They stole the dagger away from us, the cheating fools. But its no matter, were coming close to finding the key…"
Lara shook her head, squeezing the grips of her weapons.
"What do you mean?"
Shots were fired, splintering the wood near her head.
"I've said too much! You are a spy!"
She scooted down toward the corner of the cramped space, and then stood up and quickly scanned the area down below, seeing the man on boat dock. She squeezed the triggers, sending a hot stream of lead in his direction, rewarded with several painful screams as the shots hit their mark. He collapsed into the water facedown, bobbing ominously.
"Okay, now that I'm alone I can concentrate on the task at hand…"The air was now filled with the gentle sound of chirping crickets or cicadas, each calling out for potential mates, making the now empty little sector more serene.
She looked over and saw some lights in the windows in a building to her far right, the letter "B" in fancy, decorative artwork and design.
"Bartoli…"She saw another warehouse adjacent to the building she had chose as her next destination, and started to examine the wooden trap door she had been standing on the whole time. It was cracked and withered; severely outdated.
She bounced on it a couple of time, the old wood creaking precariously, and she started to put more weight until she heard several splintering cracks! Finally one side of the dilapidated hinged snapped from the crumbling fixture, and she toppled into the room below, landing on top of a thick dining table.
"Ow…"
She mumbled, rolling off of the table and on to her feet, fixing her braid and tucking away some stray locks of hair. She heard a door open at the top of the stairs ahead, and ducked behind the wall at the very bottom, waiting until he came through.
She heard his heavy footsteps trudge down, the man mumbling incoherently about leaving the bottles of booze in the fridge where the kids could get them.
He sounded fairly drunk. He stumbled into the small room, and she gave him a good solid kick to the lower back, knocking him to the ground. She snatched up the magnum he had in his hand, unfortunately with only one bullet left, and then stuck it to his head, making use of the final round.
She left the high caliber pistol by his side and knelt down to do a quick check of his pockets. She came up with only several 9mm bullets and a thick ornate key.
She pocketed the key and stuck the extra bullets into her backpack, then headed up from the exit that he had came from. She came out on a small concrete ledge close to the window with the B on it. She fired at it a couple of times with the Browning to shatter the wonderful work of art the stained glass had been.
The jump over to the window was no problem, but from her standpoint and the way the other window was situated the angle would be odd, and it'd take some precision in the air to hit it just right. She pressed herself against the back of the wall, and then ran and jumped forward, realizing she would land inside of it like she had hoped.
Instead, she reached out and caught on to the lip of the windowsill. Her feet were dangling for a moment, and she came close to impaling her palm with the broken glass, but she thankfully pulled herself up and away from harm. She stepped into the next building, seeing a ladder over in the dark left corner. She avoided several larger pieces of the shattered window, careful not to render her foot useless through the rest of this adventure.
"That might make it a tad more difficult."
The climb up the ladder was short, and the black passageway needed a flare so she could continue further. It turned to a closed door and a royal looking lock was set into the wall next to her, and she removed the ornate key.
The metal they were both made out of looked strikingly similar, and she inserted the old key into the lock, hearing a resounding snap as it turned. The door opened up and she saw yet another single ladder going up, this one much longer.
"Definitely should've hit the ladders more back at home…"She started up slowly, adrenaline causing her to increase speed as she went up." At the top she stretched her arms, walking slowly in awe as she kept her eyes locked on the crumbling walkway before her.
The drop down was a good few stories, and was almost obscured by blackness because of the incredible height. The roof, or what was left of it, was decrepit and already gone in many places, with only thin rafters remaining. Several unsteady looking pieces remained all the way to the other side of the old building; her only way out.
"C'mon, just close your eyes and walk very briskly."
She started walking as soon as she thought this, and instantly started to wobble around and loose her balance. She stuck her arms out, keeping her eyes locked on the ledge that was slowly closing in. A section of the roof cracked, and her foot slipped dangerously close to toppling her to certain death. She hit one of the rafters and regained her steady stride, jumping the last few feet to the ledge out ahead.
She heard the fragments hit the ground below, and was internally grateful that it wasn't her mangled body crumpled up down there and the rotted roof instead. There was another ladder over here, this one taking her beyond some of the buildings she had been cramped in, and after a short hop below the corridor opened up into a humongous area.
Situated in the middle was an impossibly huge glass dome, protected by iron mesh and in relatively good shape.
"An armory…? Or…Opera House?"It looked awfully similar to the type of domes used in Venetian opera houses. She lowered herself down carefully, hearing her boots scrape gently against the rock as she slid silently down. As soon as her feet his solid ground below, she was bombarded with a furious array of hot lead, seeing chipped pieces of stone fly as they all missed her by inches.
She took off in a dead sprint to the left, drawing both of her pistols in unison. She turned and saw the cause of the bullets; two Italian thugs holding sub-machine guns. A third one came around the corner, holding the two leashes of rabid Dobermans, each one snapping and snarling, drooling at the thought of fresh blood.
He let them go, ushering them to run faster. She opened fired both weapons on the speeding animals, causing them to slide to a sudden halt, taken back by the surprisingly painful 9mm rounds.
She focused then on the man who had released them, a gruff dirty worker by the looks of it, holding an iron rod. Sub machine gun fire erupted again, and she was forced to start running around the base of the dome now taking aim at the thugs above. She targeted the closest of the three, oddly another man wearing a drama mask, this one black.
"Persistent buggers…"
It took several shots before he collapsed, his corpse sliding and tumbling to the cement ground at her feet. The worker was already rushing toward her, iron rod raised, and she dived backward, catching his abdomen with the flat of her boot.
She vaulted him up into the air and over her, his body crumpling to the ground with several sickening cracks! She re-open fired on the guards above, this time they start walking toward her as they fired back.
She ducked behind a small alcove to her left, taking a second to breathe. The wall beside her exploded in a cloud of dust and pieces of the wall, and she quickly reloaded the pistols and waited for him to cease fire, then dived out and instantly began firing back, this time hitting both men in fatal wounds to the chest and neck.
They both collapsed and fell to the ground as well, the lifeless bodies banging and crashing down the iron working before coming to a dead halt on the ground below, literally.
…And everything was silent again.
She holstered the still smoking weapons, checking the dead bodies for supplies. All of the sub machine guns had been emptied on her, and for some reason they didn't have spare ammo.
"Probably thought it'd be easy to just kill me off…"
She couldn't help but smile as she checked the last body, then started to examine the dome.
"How am I suppose to get in…?"
She started maneuvering up the dome, taking note of careful foot placement as she slowly ascended the massive structure.
At the top she saw a small opening next to the place she had entered from, and lit a flare before moving over and jumping over to the ledge. Inside there was a switch, and she pulled it, at first hearing nothing and becoming slightly disappointed. But then she heard it, a muted thud as something dropped or opened.
"Not the grandest way to enter…"
She clambered out of the cramped space and started walking the perimeter of the dome, this time seeing a secret trap door that had now opened. Darkness spread from what she could see through the opening, and she tossed the flare inside.
It died out just before giving her momentary light to see a closed grating and two switches surrounded by old wood paneling and now faded crimson carpet. For a moment she hesitated, something that struck even her as odd and not the usual Croft, so she took in a breath and lowered herself down inside.
The familiar smell of mold and dust filled her nostrils, the typical smell you'd associate with anything old. She pulled the first lever, and nothing happened as the handle slid down with a dry click. She saw the circuit board was missing to the right of it, which would prevent it from raising the grating.
"Wonderful…"
She pulled the next one, and a different mesh grating slid up from another way into the opera, the opening coming to an abrupt stop with a ladder allowing access down. She descended carefully, the metal the ladder was made of now weak and threatening to break.
She dropped the last couple of feet, hearing enormous splintering cracks as something dislodged behind her. She turned and saw several circular pieces of the ceiling moving slightly and slowly breaking away, finally coming down and stampeding toward her.
She started running, a dark alcove coming up ahead. She dived into it, trying to make herself as flat against the wall as possible as the giant debris came tumbling passed and exploded to a stop at the dead end of the corridor.
Then the deafening sound was suddenly gone, the opera again quiet and a complete derelict. She chuckled, the sound of her voice floating in the air, reverberating back toward her; the only sound of life she'd heard in the old Opera House.
"I better push on…"
There was another switch made into the wall here, and she pulled it accordingly. The grate that had opened before now closed.
"…Huh?"
At first she thought the action had been pointless, but then she saw that by ascending the ladder again she could now use the grating to go up even further.
She smiled and hoisted herself back up onto the ancient ladder, the groaning of the aluminum worrying her. As she neared the grate, it happened-
-The ladder broke away, and she just managed to latch on to the steel grating just as it collapsed in a heap on the carpeted ground below. She made her way the rest of the trip upward, dismounting to the opening on the left.
There was a small hop to a long platform below, two small circle shadows next to each other on the wooden floor. She looked up and saw light was seeping in through several holes and a crack in the ceiling, with two heavy looking sandbags dangling precariously from sturdy-looking wooden rafters.
She lowered herself down and began a slow stride forward-
-and was caught by surprise as a firm arm locked around her neck, causing her to instinctively bring both her hands up to try and pry her captors arm away.
She threw her head back, apparently catching him square in the face. He cried out in pain, immediately letting go of her. She took several big hops backward, spinning and drawing both pistols.
The man, who was rather attractive, buff, and clad only in a pair of jeans, was cradling his face with his palms. Lara spotted several dark red blood droplets appearing randomly on the floor.
"Now, how about introducing yourself a bit more politely?" She asked, her voice light and melancholy.
He looked up, almost like remembering she was here, and barked some rude command in Italian.
"That's no way to speak to a lady." She said sternly, now stepping back as he advanced forward. She heard a slight creak above, and spotted the sandbags, an idea popping into her head.
"Just maybe…"
She fired toward the ropes keeping them suspended-
-and smiled as she saw both suddenly speed toward the ground with lightning speed. The man wasn't bothered to look up, and was too late to avoid the crushing blow of the killer sandbags as they crushed his body in an instant death.
Aside from the loud, sickening crack and slight outward spatter of blood from his body, which she sent a light shiver over her body, the death was relatively quick and painless; easier for her.
"This place might be crawling with guards, who knows?"
She moved off the stage and back up onto the carpeted ledge above, and moved down until she was next to a golden pillar obstructing her view. She saw several handholds that had been broken into it due to time, and she reached over and used them to maneuver up the pillar to a ledge way up farther from the stage.
She saw rows of old, decrepit seats that would have once seated at least five hundred comfortably. There was a large pool of water at the base of the stage; probably from many years of rain and snow that had melted. It was murky and green now, some sort of stagnate breeding ground for insects and parasites.
She saw a platform jutting out from the wall directly above the stage. It was a carpeted ledge, with a wooden one jutting out from it.
"Too far for me, but maybe…"
She took several steps back, then sprinted forward in a running jump-
-and hit the ledge unsteadily, one leg sliding from the platform. She kept hold with her hands, pulling and heaving herself up. She heard a rhythmic creaking noise, and saw through a small crevice in the wall a crate swinging on a crane that was malfunctioning, swinging the heavy object back and forth.
"Dangerous…"
She turned to the side and squeezed through the tight fitting, tumbling into the spacious room. It looked like some sort of cargo bay.
"Are you kidding me…?"
The faint sound of water came to her ears, too distant to conjure a location.
There was the sound of someone's heavy footsteps, which stopped as she fell to the ground.
"Who's there?!" Called a deep, heavy Italian voice.
Lara froze, pressing her back up against one of the large metal crates. The room was incredibly dark, and she saw the thin beam of a flashlight shine over the cargo and luggage.
She moved down low and inched her way to peek around the crate, seeing a heavy set man holding two Colt Python magnums, each one with an extended barrel and shiny chrome finish.
"And a slug that would tear your arm off…"
She drew both of the pistols, keeping them up close to her chest.
He fired a round into the air, the sound booming and deafening.
"I will not ask again!"
He was tall and wearing a dirty white sleeveless T-shirt and dark work pants.
"Are you Gianni Bartoli?"
She asked. There was silence.
"Who are you?" He asked quickly.
"Why do you plan on using the Dagger of Xian? What about it interests you?"
"And what might yours be? You awfully have gone through a little trouble to make it this far."
She replied "Really? I was just getting started!" She chuckled loud enough for him to hear.
He snorted.
"I suggest you leave right now," he commanded, "if you want to at least finish your little quest alive."
"I'm afraid I can't do that…"
She heard him step down from the entrance to the cargo room, Stating in a cold monotone.
"Then I will have to force you-"
She stood up, pistols aimed at him,
"-…Then I will have to kill you"
Suddenly the room erupted in gunfire, Lara getting several hits before diving behind a different crate. He continued to empty the powerful magnums, finally having to take a break and reload.
She sprung up, taking the opportunity to get a jump on him. She kicked his weapons away, following quickly with a swift knee to his chin.
He fell backward, and she knelt down on his chest, holstering one of her pistols to keep his hands raised above his head and firmly to the ground. She pressed the barrel of the pistol she had in the other hand to his temple, this finally getting his attention.
"Simply tell me, and it spares your life…"
She grumbled, locking eyes with him. He mumbled something in Italian, then smiled.
"We will find the dagger, and there isn't anything some woman like you can do about it. Its destiny!" He snarled at her.
She brought the but of the gun to his head, knocking him out cold.
"Not unless I find it first…" She replied quietly, stepping away from Gianni's unconscious body. She saw a big plane up ahead, and several men driving carts around to transport the crates to the luxurious seaplane.
She spotted an open wooden crate up ahead, and hopped inside of it.
"Hey, get this one over here!"
She heard a worker yell, nailing the lid in place.
"You got it."
She felt the box suddenly start to move, spinning slowly as mechanical arms picked it up and back it into the transport truck. She was tossed and turned as they moved it around and finally set it into place, the truck driving over toward the plane.
The sound of water grew louder, and the smell of saltwater filled her nostrils. She was again picked up high into the air, the arms sticking her inside the cargo hold.
"Is that it?"
"Yeah that's the last. Tell Fab it's all good to go."
There was several long moments of nothing, and then she felt the vibrations of the plane starting up, followed by the huge engines revving and warming up. Pretty soon they started moving, slowly ascending further and further up and into the unknown.
The roar of the plane was deafening, and the darkness that encompassed her was starting to make her legs cramp and give her a serious sense of claustrophobia.
She pushed on the lid of the crate she had stuffed herself in, the nails on the lid finally giving way after several repeated kicks. The rumbling of the plane caused her to lurch forward, the pilot driving erratically. The roar of the engine drowned out any other noise, but she was able to get bits and pieces of a conversation from the pilot and another man.
"Perhaps the artifact got away, perhaps Gianni had never found nothing"-The plane was suddenly speeding upward, the sudden shift causing her to slowly slide backward. There was a hook hanging from a chain on the ceiling, and she grabbed on to leverage herself a bit, which took some effort to hold. The engine died down a bit as they slowly leveled off, classical music now filling her ears.
She heard the quick, high pitched voice of some Italian, which was obviously the pilot.
"Its interesting oh yes I'm sure of it, believe me, but the story is not quite the same now is it?"
The response came from a tired, weary sounding Italian who was probably much older and leader of this little expedition.
"Leader of the Fiama Nera…?""Some day you will get a speeding ticket for the tongue Fabio." He sounded slightly aggravated.
"Hey, it's just a gut feeling Marco. Butm…maybe…" He sounded nervous as he finished the last sentence.
"You are wrong to look there!" Marco barked loudly, and she heard the other man quickly loose his breath as Marco apparently landed him one to his manhood.
"Is your belief so fragile…?!" Marco called out as the plane suddenly started a speedy nosedive, stacks of crates toppling and crashing down on top of a flailing Lara.
"Relax! Breathe deep."
She heard the classical music switch off instantly.
The engines were screeching as the plane continued its deathly spiral downward. The cabin and entire jet plane was rumbling as it was racing toward the Earth below-
-and suddenly the flying vehicle leveled back out just as quickly as it all began. She heard Marco start to explain to Fabio, who was still regaining his composure after the crippling blow.
"The gut Fabio…has no more direction than a simple through and out."
The plane was stabilized once again, and Lara kicked the crate that had slammed into her hip after she had stumbled to the ground. She dusted off her shorts and tucked some hair behind her ears, taking in several deep breaths. The engine was again breaking up the conversation, and she pondered about going closer as Marco's voice filled her ears again.
"When my father left when I was a boy, he confided to me that he was in light. Beckoned by something that was greater than impulse…"She lowered down a bit and started trudging across the cargo bay toward the ladder that she saw went straight up to the cockpit.
"He possessed the Seraph…But he was just a disciple in this design. His death, gloating a path to be sorted by the one." He paused, apparently letting that piece of info sink into the pilot.
"And myself…" "His son…You understand? Gianni and me… Have faith Fabio, not gut rot…We are such in the right place." "I knew it, I believe it to Marco!""Good…"
Lara started up the ladder, going one…two…three…four rungs up the iron ladder when she suddenly heard the trap door start to open and Marco's booming voice.
"Fabio? Have you fixed that rail yet…?"She dropped down, drawing the pistols and aiming them upward. She was too distracted to hear the sliding behind her, or the heavy footsteps. Didn't turn in time to avoid the crushing blow to the back of the head by a steel wrench. All she heard was the assuasive remark from the thug behind her.
"Thief!"
Her vision was suddenly blurry, and she fell to the cold, hard ground below. Her eyelids fluttered, catching faint glimpses of Marco and the man leaning in to look at her, then her vision slowly deteriorated into blackness.