IIX

House of the Death

The taxi took a sharp turn and drove into a shaded lane. From the car Lara could only see the gates and hedges blocking her view into the front gardens of the houses.

The car slowed down. "What number was it again?" asked the driver.

Lara took the little notebook and checked. "254."

The man looked at her in the back mirror. "Are you sure? Are you one of those?"

Lara frowned and slowly shook her head. "What's that suppose to mean?"

The man grinned and drummed at the dashboard with two fingers "Oh, come on. Don't try to hide it; you're one of those freaks looking for spirits and shadows. Ever since the owner of that house at 254 disappeared, I think it was two years ago, you hear this stories of ghosts. They say the woman was a mad scientist. Police cleared out the whole house but couldn't find anything. It's empty now and available for sale but nobody wants to move in because of these stories. "

Lara remained silent for a few seconds. "No, never heard of that. I think I got the wrong number, it's 252."

The man nodded. "That sounds more likely to me. Are you visiting a friend?"

"…Yes."

"You won't find any at 254, I can assure you."

After two minutes the car stopped in front of a big iron gate guarding a big villa. The digits 252 were printed on a small sign next to the letterbox. Lara got out, paid the driver and waited for the car to disappear. Then she walked to the next house and found herself in front of another impressing looking gate. Through the grating she recognised a driveway leading to a house.

One of the big trees flanking the lane offered an easy way to get to the other side. She jumped up and grabbed a branch reaching over the fence. She carefully traversed to the right and tucked her legs up to avoid the nasty spikes at top of the fence. When Lara reached far enough she let go and landed softly on the sandy pathway. She followed the gravel driveway up to the house and walked round it to look for a way in. It was remarkably quiet here, some bright sunlight peaked through the shady woods and she could only hear some pigeons and traffic in the distance.

The windows and doors of the house were sealed with planks and it seemed she would need some force to get them removed. Maybe there was an easier way to get in.

Lara walked to the back of the house and looked out over a huge backyard. The grass at the lawn hadn't been mowed for ages and reached almost knee high. Her footsteps echoed loud at some grey tiles when she checked the backdoor, but it was locked. She looked up and saw some old police tape was strapped around the cast iron balcony. Lara took a few steps back to get a better view of the balcony and spotted that the door leading to the rooms upstairs wasn't sealed.

The balcony was too high to reach from here and she began to look for something to use as a ladder. Next to the garage she found an empty iron barrel, Lara shove it next to the balcony and climbed up. Now she was standing high enough to grab the gutter, traverse around the corner and pulled up at the balcony. An instinctive feeling made her grab a gun before she carefully opened the door leading inside. With a squeaky sound the wooden door swung open and she entered a dark and empty room. The opened door provided just enough light to find her way. The wooden floor creaked under her feet as Lara walked around to examine the room. But apart from a wooden cupboard and an old black and white photo in a broken frame there wasn't anything that could help her. She took a quick look in the cupboard but it was empty.

While she opened the door to the next room she kept thinking about the name of the person who lived here, Boaz. She was sure she had heard that name before but it was a long time ago and she couldn't remember when or where it was.

Lara found herself at the top floor landing. Four other doors prevented her from seeing what was in the other rooms, some steep wooden stairs, covered with a red carpet lead her downstairs. She holstered her gun and took a flashlight from her backpack to get a better view around. She was standing at big Persian rug, the walls were covered with a thick seam of dust and cobwebs. Frames on the wall showed photos in sepia of serious looking people.

Lara decided to take a look in every room. The first one was exactly the same as the one she came from but the second door gave her entrance to the bathroom. A stale, musty smell filled her nose as she took a quick look around. A mouse dribbled on a shelf in front of a broken mirror, the bath was half full of brownish water. She walked back to the landing when she suddenly spotted something shiny on the floor; she bent over and picked up a nailfile.

When the third room also turned out to be completely empty she made her way downstairs and wandered around in the spacey living room, kitchen and dining room.

Apart from some old tables and chairs covered in sheets the rooms were empty. She heard mice running around and in one of the kitchen cabinets she found a dead barn owl.

Just when she began to think there was absolutely nothing to find she discovered a small desk in the corner of the room. It seemed made out of heavy pinewood and contained three drawers. Lara tried to open them but without success. An idea popped up in her mind and she walked back upstairs to get the nailfile she had found earlier.

It worked, with a metallic click she could lift the little lever and opened the first drawer. She took out some old yellowish papers with mouldy stains. Beneath the papers she found a small key with a label saying 'lab'.

She put it in her pocket and opened the next drawer, empty. The third one contained more old mouldered papers with notes in neat handwriting. The text didn't seem very important; she wanted to put it back when a little photo dropped out of the pile. She brushed off the dust and held it in front of her flashlight. Lara's breath caught when she recognised the man at the picture, Pieter van Eckhardt.

Her memories went back, two years ago, Prague. She remembered his cackling voice. "Gunderson, release Boaz…"

-

Kurtis opened one of the many pockets in his combat trousers and retrieved his sunglasses. He put them on his nose and reached in another pocket to get a cigarette. He looked out over the busy street next to Ezeiza airport waiting for a red hummer to stop. Boris had told them their contact Pablo would pick them up in a red hummer as soon as they landed. But he had not arrived yet.

Kurtis lit his cigarette and stared at Bex who was standing a metre away from him. She couldn't see where he was looking and her blue eyes unknowingly met his. "Eyes full of bitterness", thought Kurtis silently to himself.

After five more minutes they finally spotted a hummer driving their way. The car was covered with a seam of dirt but it couldn't hide it had been red a long time ago.

Kurtis raised his hand and the vehicle stopped in front of them. A man, somewhat in his late twenties, got out and shook their hands with a broad smile. He had a tanned skin, short black hair and long stylish sideburns. He was wearing a red bandana and some sunglasses dangled casually at the collar of his white t-shirt.

"Nice to meet you two, my name is Pablo Sanchez and I'm the only member of the Lux Veritatis from Argentina." Kurtis nodded politely.

"My granddad lived in Mexico", continued Pablo with a heavy Spanish accent. "And he came in contact with some Irish immigrants from The States. Well, it's a complicated story, but I'm so glad to see the organisation flourish again. I hope we can set up a third cell here or maybe in Rosario, that's the city where I was born."

While telling all this he had helped Kurtis to put his bag in the back of the car and now they all had taken a seat and were ready drive off. The man kept on talking, rarely allowing Kurtis and Bex to squeeze in an answer or comment.

When he finally remained silent Kurtis grabbed the opportunity to ask what was on the programme. Pablo enthusiastically patted Kurtis knee. "I have it all figured out boss, don't worry. I found a nice hotel for us, in the city centre. And inside the dashboard cabin I got a detailed map of the area with the quickest route to the house we are looking for."

Bex, who was sitting at the backseat opened Kurtis' bag and took out the cardboard box. "Kurtis, you didn't check yet what's inside."

The American took the box from her and carefully opened it. "I didn't want to look in it when we were standing inside the airport." He announced with a grin. "Our contact Boris arranged it for us. I don't even want to know how."

The box contained two MP7A1 machine pistols. Pablo whistled between his teeth. "Nice contacts we have in Europe. But what do we need it for? Is he afraid Boaz will show up?"

Kurtis handed the guns to Bex and she put it back in the bag. "I know what you mean, our man Boris likes to show of a bit. It's always good to have some defence in case we get in trouble with authorities or possible splinter parties of the Cabal. But I have to admit it's not really necessary to walk around with this kind of gun."

The three people remained silent for a while when suddenly Kurtis' phone rang.

"Trent."

"Hello, Trent. It's me Igor Smertin."

"What can I do for you?"

"I have bad news. The thing you called me about, the little company in Russia that transferred my donation onto your bank account, they…"

"Well?"

"It seems you were right, it's not fully legal. In fact, they have sort of connections with the underworld."

Kurtis frowned and bit his lip. "That doesn't very good", he muttered angrily.

"I know, I know", said Igor. He sounded nervous. "What do you think Trent? Shall we continue with this or not? It's up to you."

"Of course not, say we don't want to get involved with this."

"Yeah okay, that seems the best thing to do. I'll do my best."

"Make it so!" snarled Kurtis, before switching off the phone.

Pablo steered up the parking lot of a hotel. Kurtis put his phone back in his pocket and felt a terrible headache coming up. He rubbed between his eyes with two fingers. The last thing he heard was Bex asking if he was okay, the next moment the whole world turned black.

He woke up on a bed in a hotel room, Pablo and Bex were standing next to him. "Oh, you are with us again", said Pablo with a smile. "It seems the poison is getting worse, maybe in combination with the hot weather and your jetlag. Why don't you stay here and rest for a while?"

Kurtis nodded. "Yeah, I think that's better. You two go the house and if there is something really important you can call me."

Suddenly all the memories of the incidents in Prague came back to Lara's mind. The Cabal and their secret projects, Eckhardt, Karel and Boaz. She remembered seeing Boaz, just before she had left Kurtis behind to fight her. The papers showed some letters she had sent to Eckhardt. Most of them had a very flattering nature; she seemed to admire Eckhardt like he was some kind of guru.

Lara stood up from the desk and walked around the room one more time to look were the key could fit she had found in one of the drawers. But she couldn't find any locked doors, the whole room was empty besides some old tables and chairs and an old dusty rug.

Lara walked back to the stairs to see if she missed something upstairs. But she tripped over the rug and had to hold onto a table to keep her balance. One side of the rug curled up and revealed an iron bolt.

Lara crouched down to examine it closely when she suddenly heard the sound of a door cracking open. She grabbed her gun and walked to the hallway. The front door was opened and she looked into the grey blue eyes of a young woman, her messy red hair was shining in the bright sunlight.

"Drop your weapon said Lara calmly."

But before the woman could answer there was a loud noise from the room and a moment later a man in a white t-shirt entered the hallway carrying a gun. Lara realised she was chanceless, and now it was her who had to drop her weapon.

A minute later she was sitting at a wooden chair with her hands and ankles cuffed. The man and woman were standing to the left and right of her.

"Who are you?" asked the guy.

"Not of your business", hissed Lara.

The woman fired the next question "Do you work for the Cabal?"

"No…" said Lara and she frowned. "Don't you?"

"What do you know about them?"

"I got involved with them two years ago in Prague."

Pablo looked at Bex. "It seems she speaks the truth", he said. But Bex didn't look very convinced. "What took place there?"

"I crossed paths with Pieter van Eckhardt… and… I killed him."

Pablo pointed his gun between her eyes. "That's a lie. Kurtis Trent killed Eckhardt and destroyed the sleeper. He told us that, hundredths of times."

Lara's eyes turned bigger. "Do you know Kurtis Trent? He knows me; he will tell you I am not Cabal. I'm at your side."

Pablo shook his head. "Nonsense, you're one of those and you'll need to be cleaned up."

Bex suddenly grabbed his arm. "Wait a minute… I know her face… Kurtis has a picture of her in his wallet. And he told me that he met a woman in Prague, maybe she is right."

"I doubt it", said Pablo. "We should kill her."

Lara knew she had to convince the guy to save her life. "Are you Lux Veritatis?" she asked.

"Here", said Bex. "She even knows us. Let's go back and take Kurtis here and he will tell us if she tells the truth or not. You get him, I guard the front door."

Pablo holstered his gun. "Okay."

They tore one of the sheets and strapped it around Lara's mouth. After that they left the house.