The Camera Loves You
By Asynca
It took a great deal of willpower to step onto the staircase leading to the jet.
Airports were generally extremely secure, so I didn't like my chances of trying to run away without being eventually caught and interrogated for suspected terrorism. Additionally, I'd have thrown myself in front of a plane before telling Larson I was backing out of the deal because I had a gut feeling something was up.
Sam had a handful of the back of my t-shirt and was clutching her signed confidentiality agreement in her other hand. Larson had taken our bags up the staircase ahead of us.
"Here goes nothing," I said quietly to her, and lead us up into the plane.
I'd flown in a number of charter flights with my parents we they were doing exploration, but most of the flights we'd taken had been with public access carriers or even sometimes with local farmers. I was used to feeling like I was flying in a tin shed several hundred metres off the ground. This jet was entirely different. The carpet on the floor of the jet was a plush dark blue and the interior walls looked like they were made of walnut wood.
We followed Larson as he squeezed his huge frame and all our bags through the narrow corridor on the way to the centre of the plane, past a couple of tiny rooms. The central cabin had eight leather seats and a walnut table separating two sets of four of them. Clearly this jet had been designed with business in mind.
I only realised the outside of the jet was completely free of corporate branding when I saw the Natla Technologies logo was on basically everything on the inside of the plane.
Larson dropped our luggage at the end of the room and went searching through his own bag for something.
The door on the other side of the room opened and a stunningly attractive blonde woman stepped through it. She tilted her head to smile at us, the points of her perfect blond bob brushing her chin.
What hadn't been conveyed from FaceTime was how incredibly tall Jacqueline Natla was – it was like I was face-to-face with a Viking in a dress suit.
"Whoa," Sam murmured behind me. I completely agreed.
She walked confidently forward and extended her hand to me. I took it, dazed. "The Lara Croft," she said. "I must say it is an honor to have another Croft working with us. Your father was an archeological savant and I'm told you have a similar skillset."
My father… There was so much I wanted to ask her, but I had the sense that now wasn't the moment.
She then flashed Sam a disarming smile. "Jacqueline Natla," she greeted her. "I'm told it's rather rare for you to be without your camera equipment. I want to take this opportunity to sincerely thank you for putting it aside for us."
Sam blushed as she shook Ms. Natla's hand. In my opinion that was the rare sight, and so endearing that I wanted to hug Sam for it.
Whether or not she was actually dangerous, she was certainly a very gracious host. Accepting Sam's scrunched confidentiality agreement, she gestured to the leather seats. "Please, sit down. My staff will board shortly with various comforts and you're welcome to make use of everything as you wish." She took her own advice, descending very gracefully into a seat opposite us and crossing her long legs. Then, she slipped her heels off. "I hope you don't mind," she said, the corner of her mouth turned in an every-so-slightly cheeky smile as if she was sharing a secret with her friends. "Flights are just unbearable in stilettos and this carpet is so wonderfully soft."
Her charisma was positively enchanting and Larson had to actually herd us into our own seats to get us to move. My eyes kept being drawn to her legs; on the end of her feet were the double-darned heel and toes of sheer pantyhose. For some reason, seeing them was making me feel as if she were undressing in front of me.
She laid out the confidentiality agreement on the table and leafed through it, checking all the points that were signed. "I won't go through the details of the excavation just yet, suffice to say that we have located the entrance to Atlantis very close to the coordinates you yourself were going to explore. May I ask how you were planning to probe?"
"Ultrasound," I said, telling her something I hadn't even told Sam.
Her eyebrows lifted. "That's a rather novel way of doing it. I suppose with all the work you put into these explorations do become like your own children." She laughed, revealing all of her perfect teeth. Finishing with the papers, she leaned back and flicked her hair behind her shoulders to reveal her long, elegant neck. It looked like a deliberate movement, but it still had an effect on me.
I was attracted to her.
Shocked by the gravity of that discovery, I spent all the time I should have been spending trying to figure out how to ask her about the Nishimura loss fighting with myself about whether or not that feeling had been genuine.
In the end, it was Sam who managed to pull herself together. "My father got a phone call this morning…"
Ms. Natla's professional smile returned as she tucked Sam's agreement into a briefcase on the seat beside her. "Yes, he did. I was wondering when one of you would mention that."
Both of us were listening intently.
"It was just serendipitous timing for us, I suppose." She shared a glance with Larson who had sat against the other window and was opening a packet of crisps. "We just made sure he found out in time to get you two on this flight."
Sam relaxed.
I still felt uneasy about the whole situation, but at least I could comfortably dismiss my guilt about playing a part in ruining Sam's family's business. Being free of some of that guilt allowed me to remember all the things I had imagined about Atlantis when my father had told me stories: all that glory and that beauty, all buried in one city. I was aching to see it, but it seemed we had other business, first. "Why Peru?"
She acknowledged my question. "My research department has determined that there are a number of relics that were taken from the original city soon after it sank. My own personal opinion is that they are absolutely key to understanding the site. I'd like to have them on hand when you enter."
I digested what she was saying, thinking that it was quite odd for the CEO of a sponsorship company to be so personally involved in a project. I supposed she must have a passion for this topic just as I did, and was excited by that prospect. I wondered how closely we would be working together and had to internally chastise myself for letting my mind wonder as my eyes rested on about the third button of her blouse. It was straining a little and looked like it was liable to suddenly burst off.
"I imagine you've heard of the Scion?"
I looked sharply back up; actually, I had heard of it. My father had called it something different, though. "The Heart of Atlantis?" It featured so strongly in the mythology I could not possibly know about the city without knowing of it. Blavatsky had been the first to suggest that it was a real object rather than just a reference to the ruler or nationalist spirit. Of course, he'd also waxed poetic about some godlike master race of Nordic-Altanteans from the North Pole and archeologists had since given him about as much respect as someone would get searching for the skeleton of Santa Claus.
Clearly this woman thought he might have been onto something, though.
"You've found it?" I asked, amazed.
"Well, part of it. We haven't been able to unearth it, though. It's located inside a deep, complex tomb in Peru." She looked squarely at me. "And that's where we need your special talents."
Some of my amazement faded when I thought about the idea of climbing through more tombs. As if I hadn't had quite enough of those on Yamatai. "I'm not sure what you mean about 'special talents'. I only found Yamatai because I've done four years of hard research on it."
She considered me, leaning back in her leather chair. "Eighty-three men dead, not including –what did BBC call them?—isolated generic variants." She inclined her head toward her lackey. "Not even Larson's got a body count that big."
"How embarrassing," Larson said through his mouthful of crisps. "I've been beaten by a girl."
I had no idea it was that many. It was sobering to think I'd had that many opportunities to die and yet somehow hadn't. I looked over at Sam, wondering if I ever would have done it all if not to rescue her.
She looked completely lost in this conversation and was twisting her rings, looking tired and uncomfortable. She'd often been stuck in a room full of theorising archaeologists but never without her iPhone.
"What am I doing here?" she asked suddenly.
Ms. Natla looked a little surprised that she'd spoken again. "Would you prefer we left you here?"
Sam looked at me. "No…"
"I personally find having my friends around can be very motivating." It was unsettling the way she expressed that, especially as she and Larson shared another glance. "I thought it might help Ms. Croft to have you present, rather than starting her first solo project alone."
Before I could respond to what she'd said, I heard the sound of people chatting good-naturedly to each other up the back of the jet. I guessed they were the staff that Ms. Natla had spoken of before.
Ms. Natla looked very slightly annoyed as they entered, but hardly let any of it leak through into her voice. "That's enough for now, I think," she said, closing her briefcase and standing. She dipped briefly to the floor to retrieve her heels. "Larson?"
He stood, wiping his dirty hands on his jeans. Charming, I thought. He saluted us a little patronizingly and, to my disappointment, took the bag with all our communication equipment with him to the other room.
"We'll be in the last room," she told us, directing me a half-smile that made my stomach flutter. "If you specifically require anything, just ask my staff."
With that, she exited and left the crew to prepare the jet for take-off.
