11- Faux Pas

SOME MILES AWAY- THE SAME NIGHT

In the depths of night, she observed with a vague look the lapping of the water against the rocks down below. It was dark, and the mist had been rising for a few hours now. Despite this, she could still make out the lights of the city in the distance. Although they were quite far away, she could feel the restlessness in the air, there was agitation in town tonight.

She liked this place. She appreciated the perspective of space, of infinity that stretched as far as the eye could see, the expanse of emptiness that surrounded her, as if she was the only living person left in the world. Here she could breath. It was one of the few places in the world where she found even the slightest bit of calm in these turbulent times. She couldn't stand the hypocritical and unhealthy hysteria that reigned down there.

A gust of wind blew away her short locks of hair, she couldn't hold back a shiver when the cold came through the collar of her coat. She tightened her arms a little tighter around her, as if to protect herself.

Despite the layers of clothing, she felt the hardness of her metal corset so deeply grafted to her skin scratching her arms. Once again, the metal plates around her waist made her suffer terribly. She felt the liquid that served as her blood pulsating with great blows, prisoner of this metal cage and the result of the various experiments she had been subjected to in the past.

She glanced scornfully at her battered body, which seemed to be constantly fighting against itself. This body that she hated so much, and which bore all the scars and stigmas of her chaotic life. This body that, at every second, seemed to be torn on all sides, that burned her permanently, always on the verge of tearing itself apart. Every heartbeat, every vibration, every breath of what remained of life in herself reminded her at every moment of the suffering and contempt, the anguish and disgust. And the life that had been stolen from her.

From the mental torture or from what had been done to her body, she would not have been able to say what made her suffer the most. Sometimes she just wanted to scream. Sometimes she wanted everything to stop, to make this envelope that was no longer human disappear. But the master wouldn't allow it. He needed her. She had known for a long time that his contempt for her would only bring hatred, but that was what he was looking for. He had never sought to be loved by her. He had murdered her parents before her eyes, without showing the slightest sign of compassion. He was using her. He was using her flesh as a simple experiment. He was using her spirit, her past. All the people around him were just minions, and he was a monster. Because yes, that's what he was. A predator ready to exterminate an entire race to keep his own alive, ready to suck the marrow out of his enemies to achieve his ends.

She felt someone approaching behind her back.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see the frail silhouette of the archivist standing beside her. In the dark night, he could hardly be seen in his black suit. With his hands folded behind his back, he looked into the distance, somewhere on the waters of the Neva.

'You have worked well, Morgau, the master is very satisfied.'

She escaped a small cynical laugh.

'If you say so...'

A sharp pain pointed to one of her right ribs, she pinched her lips in an attempt to contain the pain.

'Gunderson may need your help by the way,' the man continued.

This time she deigned to turn her face towards him, intrigued.

'I thought we all had to get ready to leave for Turkey...'

The archivist shrugged slightly and remained silent. Morgau's face closed, gradually returning to her macabre thoughts. She tried to contain the anger that was slowly eating away at her.

'There is obviously one last thing to be settled before leaving.'

She just stared at him, keeping silence.

'Is there a problem?' he asked, with a unpleasant voice.

Rouzic watched her with his most icy gaze, his hands always behind his back. The pale eyes of the young woman stared at him without sealing for a moment, as if to challenge him. Then she rose abruptly, and headed for the gate that would take her back into the depths of the fortress.

'I hate hot countries...'

—

ST PETERSBURG- THE DAY AFTER

'And you had talked about something discreet...'

Mikhaïl watched them in turn, both incredulous and desperate. Right in front of him were Lara and Kurtis, trapped next to each other in the small sofa, a grave expression stuck on their faces. Roman, his eyes downcast, gnawed his fingers nervously. Sasha, on the other hand, glanced distractedly outside, leaning against the window. The two adventurers had joined them late in the day, waiting for the rush of the day to sneak into the crowd and return to the flat without being spotted.

Lara squirmed in her seat. She felt like a little girl being reprimanded by her master for something she had done wrong. She looked around her, looking at the living room which had now become a kind of headquarters. In a corner, Roman had set up all his computer equipment, and she guessed, the one he had used the evening before, on an old wooden desk. The wires and cables of his computers were snaking around the room. On the living room table, various documents were scattered in a nameless jumble.

'We didn't exactly find what we wanted, but I think we can consider ourselves lucky, it could have been a lot worse...' said Kurtis in a slightly ironic tone.

Mikhaïl sighed, annoyed.

'You were lucky indeed that the whole St Petersburg police force didn't show up to pick you up,' he continued bitterly.

'What's done is done, we won't be able to go back on it anyway,' intervened Lara in a voice that was meant to be soothing.

There was silence in the room. Everyone observed each other, aware of the situation they were in.

'But you're safe and sound, that's the most important.'

Lara shook her head, accompanied by Kurtis. She herself felt helpless, not sure about how to feel now. She couldn't help feeling that she was stuck in a dead end: time was running out and there was nothing they could do about it, aware that their opportunities to counter Karel were dwindling as the days went by. She felt more than frustrated by their failure, and she felt that Kurtis was just as frustrated as she was.

'Nothing new about the translations I guess?' Lara asked as she turned to Mikhaïl to change subject.

The Russian shook his head slowly, gradually returning to calm.

'Nothing about the possible location of the sleepers?' insisted the young woman.

He shook his head again, his lips pursed. He didn't need to say any more to make clear that he felt at a dead end too.

'That's much too vague, no... again, I imagine it's all in the scrolls that Karel holds.'

Lara couldn't help blowing out loudly, overwhelmed. She had forgotten this detail. It was as if the whole universe was standing against them.

'In short, even if we recover the sword, we will have to recover the second part of the scrolls. Or at least manage to find out what they contain,' said the adventuress.

'Unfortunately, I think that's what's coming in our ways.'

Next to her, Kurtis rocked backwards into the back of the sofa. Leaning against the armrest, he rubbed his temple with his fingers, looking at Sasha at the other end of the room, then at Roman and Mikhaïl who were facing him with serious eyes.

'But if I do it intelligently, I should be able to trace Vasiley, and therefore Karel and the others...'

'Do you plan to run into them?' asked Roman, appalled.

Their blue eyes met. Sasha pulled herself away from the wall she was leaning against.

'It's madness,' she told him, her eyes panicked.

'It's the only way to find the other scrolls,' the mercenary replied coldly.

'What are you talking about?' continued Roman, raising his eyebrows in a sign of interrogation.

'After what happened in Montsegur and Germany, Vasiley and Gunderson are undoubtedly on the lookout...' Kurtis continued. 'They need the scrolls we have, and we need the ones they have, and they know it. If they don't come to us, I will come to them. Thanks to my psychic powers I will probably be able to trace them and know where they are... and therefore know where the scrolls are... if I can establish a connection with Vasiley, we might have a chance...'

'Yes, perfect, so that they will spot us more easily... You're definitely right Kurtis, let's all go and get into a circle in the big palace square and make a huge campfire to tell them 'hey, look, we're here, you fucking bastards!' exclaimed the young Russian girl who walked a few steps towards him. 'For God's sake can you tell me what's gotten into you?'

'Do you have a better idea?' replied the mercenary between his clentched teeth. 'Shall we talk about your well-placed 'contacts', who, it seems to me, could also get us spotted?'

'In any case, it couldn't be worse than last night's result,' Sasha cut him off. 'In my humble opinion, I don't think it's very smart to take such inconsiderate risks...'

'I think this is frankly not the time to lecture us,' her brother cut her off, who got agitated in his seat.

'In any case, he will come to us sooner or later,' cut Lara.

Everyone turned around and looked at her. The tension was palpable: Mikhaïl was trapped in his silence, thinking hard. Roman had finally risen from his seat, his stressed gaze passing from Kurtis to Sasha at full speed. Everyone, of course, remembered the young woman's vision just two nights earlier. And they all feared the approaching shadow of danger above their heads.

'If he doesn't already know where we are, and what's on our minds...' she concluded, her eyes still lowered.

There was a heavy silence in the room. The adventuress walked her gaze from one corner to the other, pensive. Finally, turning her head, Lara met the determined gaze of the mercenary next to her.

'I think it's better to put ourselves together and not go in all directions,' she added. 'Karel will find us soon enough I think. First things first.'

Kurtis shook his head lightly in a sign of acquiescence.

'So that leaves us few options,' Sasha continued. 'As long as we don't have the sword, it will be difficult for us to keep going.'

'I think the priority is indeed to get the sword,' Lara completed. 'We might as well take advantage of the fact that Karel may not be aware of its existence, it gives us a step ahead of him...'

'We are a step ahead of him as long as he doesn't know where the sleepers are,' Mikhaïl cut her off.

'And what they're already on their trail?' asked Sasha. 'Karel may already be at work as we speak.'

'Maybe...' intervened the old Russian. 'But we don't know anything about it at the moment, there's no point in procrastinating except to confuse us. And perhaps that is precisely what the Nephilim wants.'

'In any case, it is obvious that from now on, the slightest movement on our part puts us in danger, whatever we do' concluded Kurtis.

The young Russian girl watched him with her piercing, suspicious gaze. She didn't seem convinced at all, and strangely enough, Lara understood her feeling. After last night's uproar, the shadow of Karel and his henchmen had undoubtedly drawn closer to them, more threatening than ever. However, it was clear that they would remain at a dead end until they had retrieved the sword. She felt the piercing gaze of the mercenary who had got back to her.

We don't have many options left

'So what do we do? Do we go back to the Ermitage?' asked Sasha, visibly tired and annoyed.

'Exactly.'

Lara's calm voice echoed through the room like the crack of a whip. They all turned their eyes to the adventuress.

'You're not serious?' the Russian woman asked.

'We have to go back, we have no choice,' the adventuress repeated.

'What if it's not at the Ermitage?'

'We'll see what happens,' the Englishwoman replied firmly.

The two women gauged each other with their hard, cold eyes.

'We definitely couldn't find what we wanted to find, and we couldn't go where we wanted to go,' Kurtis completed. 'As long as we don't make sure it's not here, we can't keep going, as you said yourself, Sasha.'

'The whole of St. Petersburg is going to go after you! This is madness!' the Russian woman replied angrily.

'Once again, we have no choice,' Kurtis cut her off.

He rose abruptly from his seat and approached the plans spread out on the living room table. His gaze lingered for a moment on the diagrams they had already studied the day before before going to the inauguration party.

'We have checked the lower floors and the art departments, which contain nothing of interest to us... they are just unimportant collector's items...'

'...for you maybe, those paintings and sculptures are priceless, Trent,' Lara corrected.

The mercenary glanced over his shoulder at the English woman.

Once again, you have no sense of humour, Croft

He easily guessed the murderous look the young woman was giving him from the sofa.

'The refugee royal families mainly occupied the top floors of the palace, in the western part of the building, safe from possible outside attacks,' completed Sasha, who also approached the table and the plans.

She leaned over the documents, leaning on her hands. Her fingers ran over one of the basement plans.

'This part of the museum is certainly too new, which is probably why you have not found anything.'

'The palace was looted during the revolution of 1917, then entirely renovated...'

Lara had suddenly stood up, and approached the table in turn.

'...it is not impossible, if not more than probable, that a large number of works were moved to a safe place, including the sword. I imagine that the Lux Veritatis did not want it to fall into the wrong hands, it would have been a pity to get it lost among mere mortals, if I may say so,' she concluded, crossing the American's azure gaze.

'What are you proposing?' he asked.

With a broad gesture, Lara cleared the space on the living room table. She quickly sorted through the papers that were lying around, and put the general plans of the Ermitage and the basement plans in front of them first. Concentrated, Kurtis watched her retrace with her fingertips the route they had taken the day before. The young woman suddenly seemed to be in a trance, mumbling incomprehensible words in a very low voice. On several occasions he saw her frowning, annoyed. Then, after a few moments, she straightened up, hands on her hips. Suddenly she turned to Roman, who was waiting patiently, a little backwards.

'Tell me Roman, is there any way you could find the museum's technical plans somewhere?'

Without showing the slightest sign of hesitation, the young man stepped forward to sit behind his two gigantic computer screens. For long minutes, his fingers ran at high speed on his keyboard, his eyes glued to the screens. Then, with an almost theatrical gesture, he pressed the enter button, before turning around to face the adventuress. She observed the three shots that appeared behind him. The first seemed to show the ventilation systems, the second the electrical installations, and the third all the security systems. Instinctively, as if he had read her mind, Roman double-clicked on this one, which was displayed in large on the computers. Kurtis, beside her, frowned.

'What do you have in mind exactly?'

The young woman shook her head, concentrated.

'I'm just trying to get things clear...'

'In any case, you won't be able to enter the museum like you did yesterday, without going undercover,' Sasha intervened. 'I guess they have increased the number of security agents since yesterday evening...'

'Not if nothing has been stolen,' Lara cut off in a confident tone.

'You have knocked out two agents who saw your faces,' Sasha replied sharply.

'They only saw two foreign aristocrats who got lost in a dark corner, in a service staircase easily accessible by any guest, and what's more, by the evening's reception staff.'

The two women gazed at each other.

'And I guess that given your special status and your... 'contacts', you would have already heard about the research notification.'

'Indeed,' the young Russian woman replied, disturbed by the English woman's remark.

'We can't access the museum through the backstages either,' Kurtis interposed himself, ' that's too many constraints... we can't pretend to be staff member, Sasha or Roman either...'

'Yes, but that was not my idea.'

The adventuress suddenly turned around and went to retrieve one of the plans that laid on the table behind them.

'To tell the truth, I was thinking more of something discreet and stealthy.'

She took another look at the map behind Roman.

'We no longer have an alibi, Croft, I don't see how we could show up there without arousing suspicion.'

'Not if we avoid rush hours.'

'There will be people in the museum at all times of the day...' intervened Sasha.

'Who said this had to be during the day?'

The mercenary stared at her without understanding.

'Do you want to break in at night?'

Not seeming to pay attention to the American's remark, Lara turned to Roman.

'Do you think you could jam the surveillance systems like you did last night?'

The Russian got agitated in his chair. He ran a nervous hand through his curly hair. He was pouting.

'I'm afraid that's not possible, Lara...'

She seemed disappointed by his answer.

'If I shut down the whole system for the night, the emergency systems will be triggered: in such cases, a whole reinforced security system is put in place, as well as an armada of agents who are deployed as reinforcements, not to mention the police...' commented the young Russian.

'...or even the Federal Services,' Sasha added.

The adventuress looked back at the map she was holding in her hands.

'There must be a way...'

She pouted, in a state of reflexion. Kurtis stood up, hands on his hips. Suddenly he was overcome by a revelation, he walked towards the Englishwoman and bent over the plan in her hands. He found himself stuck to the young woman's without even realizing it.

'Concretely, three of the vaults remain unchecked in the basement, and the royal flats...' he observed.

He returned to the security plan displayed on the computer.

'...which are basically on top of each other, in the same alignment, according to the plans.'

He pointed the area with his finger on the screen to support his reasoning. Roman suddenly shook his head.

'Unfortunately, that's not how it works... this kind of surveillance system works by floor, at best I can only switch them off in certain places on the same floor, but I won't be able to split them up...'

All of them let out a noisy breath of frustration.

'What if you turn them off one by one?' asked Sasha. 'You turn off the basements' cameras while they probe the last safes, then the ones in the flats when they are in the area.'

Roman let himself go in the back of his big armchair, his hands folded behind his neck.

'I can try to do that, yes... that could be a solution...'

But the young Russian woman understood that her brother was not convinced any more than that. She saw him scrolling from one end of his screens to the other, watching the shots he had in front of him. Then suddenly he leaned back over his keyboard again and quickly typed something on it. Everyone watched him busy on his machine, afraid to talk to him for fear of distracting him. After a few minutes of silence, he finally stopped and swivelled his chair to turn to his comrades.

'But what I can also use sequential recording.'

Sasha put her hand on her brother's shoulder, suddenly caught by a revelation too.

'In this case the system is only turned off for a fraction of a second, we turn the camera we need off...'

'... just long enough to replace the image the camera is filming with a sequence that has already been recorded,' Roman continued.

'The agents in the control room will have the impression everything's like normal on their screens...' added Sasha.

'... while they are watching the same image over and over again,' his brother concluded. 'Given the state of their firewall, it will be child's play...'

They exchanged a complicit and triumphant look.

'No risk of bugs?' asked Mikhaïl.

'Not a single one. It's an almost invisible and undetectable process, except by a computer genius.'

'That's brilliant,' Lara told him with a smile.

The young man smiled a satisfied, almost blushing smile back at her.

'That's one thing, but we won't have a visual of what's going on around us... it means we're going to move forward blind... Not to mention the possible agents that might come across on our way...' said Kurtis, less enthusiastic.

'Not if I guide you,' interrupted Roman.

'By walkie-talkie?' asked Lara.

The Russian nodded vigorously. He got up suddenly and disappeared into the corridor. After a moment he reappeared, with tiny transparent objects in the palm of his hand, no bigger than candy candies.

'It will be much simpler with this.'

The mercenary and the Englishwoman looked at the two little earpieces he presented them.

'Do you think it will be all ready for tonight?'

The young man shook his head, surprised. Then his gaze turned into something very determined and sure.

'I'll get right to it then.'

She then turned to her companion, who stared at her intensely.

'Do you feel like going for a ride tonight?'

'I guess so,' he answered with a smile.

—

Her footsteps crunched in the freshly fallen snow on the roof of the building. Without a word, she followed the silhouette of the mercenary who was advancing a few metres in front of her, barely distinguishable in the dark night. Hidden under his cap, jumper and black latticework, only the flakes that were falling in large quantities and clinging to him betrayed him.

With a distracted gesture, she pushed back a lock of hair that was bothering her under her own bonnet. Crouching down, she cast a suspicious glance around her: through the thick curtain of snow, she first made out, on her right, the great square of the palace and its Alexander column, bathed in orange lights, typical of the late hours of the night. To her left, the Neva was wriggling endlessly in the darkness of the night. At that hour, the streets were deserted of all life, she imagines without difficulty that people were discouraged from going out in this weather and cold.

She took a deep breath to concentrate. Her breath left a white trail in the icy night air. A faint metallic rattle, followed by a soft noise, told her that Kurtis had succeeded in unhooking one of the many Plexiglas sheets that littered the roof of the palace, and which were opening into the interior air ducts.

'Is everything alright?' she heard in her ear.

She readjusted the small device in her ear. In front of her, Kurtis grasped the ventilation grille with both hands and placing it on the floor. He nodded his head and the adventuress came closer.

'We're about to enter the north duct,' she finally answered in a low voice.

'Perfect. I'll let you progress to the next duct, you should soon find it, in about thirty meters. From there, you will arrive in a maintenance room.'

'Understood.'

She came up to Kurtis, who pushed back some flakes that were bothering him on his face. She observed the gaping hole at their feet, which seemed to plunge directly into the most total infinite darkness. The adventuress grasped the rope that the American had firmly attached to a stainless steel foot. He was about to pass in front of her when she stopped him with a mouvement of the hand.

'Didn't anyone ever tell you the ladies go first?'

'I'll keep that in mind,' Kurtis replied ironically. 'Hope I won't hear you complain that I'm not gallant enough...'

The young woman slipped into the opening, clinging firmly to the edge of the pipe. Leaning on her legs, she grabbed the thick rope with both hands to abseil down. Before launching herself, she raised her head towards her companion.

'Don't blame me. I've had a few bad experiences before...'

'Looks like you've been doing this your whole life,' the mercenary said with a mischievous smile.

'These are my speciality, Mister Trent.'

She winked at him and let herself slide gently down the shaft.

—

Kurtis let himself fall gently beside her. The roof opening wasn't far above their heads, but it was pitch black underneath. Lara quickly rummaged through her bag and pulled out a small torch, whose icy white halo revealed an intersection of pipes.

'Straight ahead,' they both heard in their earpieces.

They looked at each other and nodded. The duct was relatively narrow, not to say tiny. Lara laid face down on the ground and began to crawl into it, closely followed by the mercenary.

They progressed quickly, more easily than they thought they would. Lara was glad she wasn't stuck in one of her black latex suits like some of those she had had before, which would have stick to the metal and slowed her down. She felt much more comfortable in her black long-sleeved jumper and the tight-fitting trousers in the same colour, which she had chosen stretch so as not to impede her movements. Her 9mm were with her this time, hanging on to their holsters.

As Roman had told them, after a few metres a gate appeared on their way. Taking a quick glance through the metal slats, the adventuress discovered a relatively small room, whose wall shelves were filled with various jerry cans of products and cloths.

Lara twisted and turned to Kurtis.

'Come and help me,' she said in a whisper.

The young woman then leaned as hard as she could against the wall to give Kurtis enough space to come to her and reach the grid. The mercenary crawled up to her, trapped between the young woman and the wall. When he reached her level, one against the other, they began to unscrew the large screws that framed and blocked the trapdoor, starting with those furthest away. The bolt on which Kurtis was working quickly jumped out, he continued his work, this time attacking the nearest bolt. The bolt that the adventuress had just blown suddenly slipped out of her fingers, and bounced a little further in a metallic snap that echoed throughout the conduit. As a reflex, she blocked it with her hand. Suddenly she turned towards Kurtis, who was also holding his breath. A mocking smile appeared on his face.

Whenever it comes to discretion...

The young woman answered with a murderous look. After the stress of this blunder, she easily unscrewed the last big screw holding the grille. With the same movement, they grabbed the wire mesh and started pulling to lift it up. There was a small metallic squeaking sound and the grille came out of its frame.

'Stop! Stop everything!' Roman suddenly shouted to them.

The two adventurers stopped dead in their tracks, their hands still clinging to the gate.

'There are two agents coming at you!'

Lara and Kurtis stared at each other without a word, holding their breath. Lara could feel the blood buzzing in her temples. Kurtis could feel his heart beating against his ribs. He took several breaths to stay focused and not to move the metal plate.

Suddenly he raised his head, holding his ear. In the distance, they heard the echo of several footsteps. Muffled, confused voices came up. They stopped not far from there, just behind the door it seemed to them. They heard a laugh, and then the footsteps went on their way again, this time moving away.

The adventurers resumed their normal breathing. They waited a few more seconds to make sure the agents weren't coming back, and waited for Roman to give them the green light.

As gently as possible, they slid the grille over the other side of the duct to clear the opening. Leaning slightly forward above the void, Kurtis took a quick look to take stock of the situation. When he stood up, he crossed the adventuress' hazel eyes that were fixed on him, just a few centimetres away from him.

'What's wrong?'

The young woman just watched him, silent. Without giving an answer, and above all because she suddenly felt uncomfortable, she grabbed the edge of the opening, slid forward headfirst, and pulled her legs out of the conduit in a kind of roll, before letting herself fall gently onto the carpet. Kurtis, on the other hand, passed his legs first and descended, holding on with the strength of his arms, before landing with agility.

'Ok,' Roman's voice resounded in their ears. 'Now you have to get to the door of the service staircase, which is at the other end of the corridor.'

The two adventurers nodded. They straightened up, and, approaching the door at wolf's pace, positioned themselves strategically behind it. Kurtis delicately operated the handle, Lara slipped quietly into the huge corridor plunged into darkness. Closely followed by the mercenary, they progressed along the wall, guided by the small green light a few metres away, which indicated the service exit.

They slipped stealthily down the stairs and quickly descended to the lower levels. As the day before, they found themselves face to face with the porthole door. Kurtis took out of his trousers pockets a new pass that Roman had given to them before leaving. He slipped the plastic card into the case that served as the lock. There again, the door opened with a dry slam, and without a hitch. As hoped, the place was deserted.

'Clear, you can go.'

The two adventurers went in without hesitation. They went straight to the last chests that Kurtis had not had time to probe, running up the corridor.

They quickly reached the other end of the tunnel. As the day before, the mercenary approached the heavy reinforced doors and crouched down, one knee on the ground. He closed his eyes and stretched his hand out in front of him towards the last box. After a few breaths, his breathing slowed down. His mind emptied of all sensations around him.

He then began his ritual, whispering his incantations in Latin at high speed. He went through the last rooms where the works were stored in more detail: there again, he went through a whole pile of various objects, from paintings to antique style sculptures.

After several minutes, which seemed interminable to the young woman in the background, the murmuring stopped and Kurtis suddenly seemed to collapse under his own weight. He swung forward, stunned. Lara rushed to catch him before he collapsed to the ground. The young man, however, seemed to come back to him much faster than the day before. He got up quite quickly, but looked vaguely lost.

'There's nothing there,' he simply said in a whisper.

The young woman felt her heart liquefy in her own chest. A wave of stress suddenly overwhelmed her. She looked for the mercenary's gaze.

'Are you sure you've looked correctly?'

Kurtis replied with a reproachful look.

'Just take a look at it yourself, if you don't trust me.'

The adventuress remained silent, preferring not to reply. Kurtis rose abruptly, almost pushing the young woman away. Perplexed, she followed the young man as he turned his back on her and walked away in the direction of the service staircase.

'Where are you going?'

He didn't bother to turn around.

'I'm going up to the royal flats, we've wasted enough time here.'

Lara watched him move a little further away, then, after a last glance at the armoured doors in front of her, resigned, she set off to join the mercenary. On her way, her earpiece squeaked.

'What's going on, Lara?'

She barely passed through the opening of the door the mercenary had left open for her.

'We didn't find anything in the basement,' she replied between two breaths.

'Ok...'

She sensed disappointment in the tone of the young man.

'Now you're going up to the royal flats I suppose?'

Lara didn't bother to answer. She climbed the steps four by four to catch up with Kurtis who seemed to be digging the distance with her. At the third level she followed the shadow of the young man who had just slipped into the corridors of the museum.

'Kurtis!'

The young man continued on his way, walking with great strides several metres in front of her. She didn't pay attention immediately, but they found themselves in the corridors they had walked the day before, where the reception had taken place. As they approached a crossroads with other corridors, the earpiece crackled again.

'Watch out, agent approaching on your right.'

The moment Lara was finally catching up with Kurtis, they moved against a wall between two marble columns. A few metres away, they saw the flashes of a torch and heard the crackle of a walkie-talkie. A male voice answered with brief words before finally cutting off the communication.

For long minutes, the security guard did not move, standing in the middle of the corridor. With their backs to the wall, as if they wanted to merge and blend in, the adventurers stood motionless, watching for the slightest movement on his part. They exchanged a questioning glance.

Then, after a long time, the footsteps slowly began again. The man cleared his throat and finally walked away in the other direction, going up the opposite corridor. The torch's light gradually faded away and the shadows fell on them and the empty corridor.

'The way is clear,' Roman told them. 'Sasha is telling me this is madness, really. And the more I think about it, the more I agree with her guys.'

They got away from the wall. Furious because of his attitude towards her, Lara grabbed Kurtis by the arm in the hope of having an explanation with him.

'What's gotten into you? What's wrong?'

The mercenary looked at the young woman with a cold, distant look.

'We need to keep moving, time is running out.'

Lara let the young man free, suspicious.

'What's your plan?'

'I think the imperial family left the sword hidden somewhere close to them, so that they could pick it up quickly and escape the palace in case of emergency, there must surely be a hiding place somewhere in the State rooms...'

Unable to restrain herself, Lara shook her head to show her disagreement, her lips pursed.

'After the October Revolution and World War Two the palace was seriously damaged and was not really safe anymore... Unfortunately, a huge part of the collections got destroyed but I guess the Lux Veritatis and the Imperial family would have put the weapon in a safer and special place after the building was rebuilt, somewhere the sword wouldn't get discovered that easily if it happened again... It would have been downright clever from them to hide the sword among other works stored in boxes... I'm pretty sure it was moved to the basement with all the other works.'

Kurtis gave her a uncertain look.

'Trust me, I am kind of used to secret hiding places.'

'I've seen nothing in those safes, Lara...'

She turned her back on him, sighing.

'I think we should move to the upper floors' said Kurtis. 'Or we can go away before we get trapped. We check the plans and we come back tomorrow night.'

'You know we can't do that, Trent. We need to get out of here with the sword tonight.'

Lara looked up at the ceiling, as if a clue would suddenly appear from nowhere to show them the way.

The sword can't be nowhere but here... we should check again the safes

'We should keep moving' said Kurtis as turned his head to the opposite side of the corridor.

For God's sake what is wrong with him?

'Nothing's wrong with me, however I guess I should ask you what the fuck is wrong with you, Croft?' he suddenly asked, visibly fed up.

She turned back at him, stunned.

What the...?

'The sword is not in the basements. If you not sure about what I discovered in those safes, please feel free to go back down and open them one by one to check by yourself. I've perfectly understand you won't change your mind.'

'Since when do you allow yourself to use your abilities against me? Without my permission?'

'Only if necessary' Kurtis answered dryly.

'...if necessary?'

'Now at least I know for sure you won't listen to me anyway and you will just stick to your fucking ideas'

'What the fuck is wrong with you, Trent?'

Their gazes locked. Kurtis crystal eyes were as cold as the ice blue they were made of. Lara stared at him for a few seconds, his voice echoing in her head.

I already told you about my mental abilities...

'You told me you couldn't read minds, you lied to me' she spat.

You're a clever girl, you know this is not only about that. I can feel things differently, and I understand, I decipher all other people's emotions in a different way, but sometimes I just can't control it.

'This is certainly not an excuse' she answered dryly.

Indeed, but you can also hear me whenever I decide to, and feel things I can feel...

'...It's like there was a kind of connexion, somehow' he concluded in a breath.

Lara let out a bitter laugh.

'A connexion, you say...' she repeated with sarcasm. 'So, to sum it all up, you have free access to my head and all my thoughts as you wish, and there's nothing I can do against that...'

'This is not the way it works, Lara.'

'Of course it is !' she replied angrily. 'You lied to me. You told me you couldn't read minds. What if you're just manipulating me, or make me see nor believe whatever you want me to believe... or maybe you're just using me to get information...'

'... So that I can give it to Karel and Gunderson? Are you fucking serious? After all we've been through? And what for exactly?'

'Sorry for not being smart enough to understand that part, indeed. Maybe you're just keeping your cards close to your chest.'

She paused as she stared at him with her big hazel eyes. Kurtis shook his head in irritation.

'I think there are much more important things to care about rather than simple mental abilities that go beyond your understanding.'

'I'm sorry, but I think I have the right to ask myself questions about the nature of your skills, given what we are playing for!'

'For God's sake Croft, I really don't understand why you just persist to convince yourself the whole world is against you! My mental abilities don't seem normal to you, and so what? What do you want me to tell you? For someone who spends her time travelling the world, raiding and plundering tombs full of dinosaurs, dragons, mythological monsters or any other fucking God... Maybe it's just time for you to admit some things in this fucking world are just the way they are and that you can't have all the answers sometimes.'

'I would accept it if you just didn't manipulate me as you wish...'

The mercenary sighed loudly.

'You're so stubborn...'

'I'm sorry if I just don't give my trust to someone who can't give it to nobody'

'This is obviously not a matter of trust, this is a matter of ego.'

A wave of anger crept on up on the adventuress. She held her fists tight in her gloves. Kurtis made a step forward and grabbed her arm. His voice was cold and distant.

'The sword is not in the basement, Lara, why don't you just accept the fact that you might be wrong for once in your life?'

'I've studied all the plans and all the notes! I'm never wrong, we just...'

'Whatever I tell you, you will stick to your plan, won't you?'

They paused, holding each other's gaze through the half light.

'Whether you agree or not, I'm going back to the lower floors to keep on looking for that sword, because I'm sure it is somewhere down there. I'm going back down, with or without you.'

Kurtis took the hit.

'Sorry for standing in your way, your Majesty...'

Lara freed herself from his grip in a sudden move of the shoulder. She refrained herself from slapping him, her eyes full of the deepest anger.

'Screw you, Trent.'

Without adding a word, she turned her back on him and walked away firmly and determined. Kurtis watched her disappear into the darkness of the huge corridor and finally turned away with a sigh.

—

Silence fell again around him. He remained for a short moment alone, pensive in the middle of the immense corridor. Lara had now completely disappeared, and the surrounding silence that had fell around him was icy. He took a deep breath, looking up at the extravagantly gilded ceilings, before finally leaving in the opposite direction the young woman had taken.

'Kurtis? What's going on? Where's Lara?'

He did not answer Roman immediately. He didn't want to be unpleasant to the young man, he needed some time to get the pressure.

'I'll find her later.'

'I don't think...'

'I go up to the upper floors,' the Kurtis cut him off sharply.

The American hurriedly made his way up the corridor before finding himself in the elegant area in which they had moved the day before with Lara. He climbed up the large marble staircase with his ever menacing horseman, and stopped for a moment on the landing, reflecting.

'Roman?' he whispered.

'You can start in the corridor on the left, it leads directly to the private rooms. Do you think it can be there?'

The American sighed.

'Fingers crossed.'

—

He took a step back, hands on his hips. Disillusioned, his gaze wandered through the magnificent stately room in which he was standing. He turned around and slalomed through the fragile furniture to get out of the area.

He escaped a noisy sigh. He had now been walking around the flats for nearly an hour, searching from top to bottom, looking in every nook and cranny for a hidden room, or perhaps a trap door that might have served as a hiding place. He had to face the fact: there was nothing here.

Absolutely nothing...

He passed an overgrown hand over his tense face. Lara may have been right on this one, and he couldn't help but feel deeply guilty. He scanned the room once more, demotivated.

I was wrong...

He took the direction of the stairs, distraught. After some long minutes walking silently, he quickly retraced his footsteps to the corridors and the marble staircase.

He looked around him. Here the silence was heavy, almost overwhelming. For a moment he heard only the beating of his own heart.

As he was about to go down the stair, his gaze got suddenly caught by a glitter on his right side. He stopped dead in his tracks. He looked all around him, to one side and then to the other, his hands on his hips. He looked up at the enormous statue overhanging him. The marble horse stood on its two hind legs, threatening. He and his rider seemed to be hurtling towards the void, an imposive sword brandished in the air above them both.

Kurtis' gaze lingered on the weapon the rider wielded a few metres above him: relatively long, slightly curved with a thick handle carved out of what looked like ivory, it seemed out of step with the basic sculpture.

'In everybody's plain view...' Kurtis said in a whisper.

His chirugai suddenly came to life, unhooking forcefully from his belt. The flying dagger twirled accurately in the air, making a wide curve around the statue before suddenly crashing into the rider's helmet. Kurtis cast a disillusioned glance at his weapon.

'Better late than never...' he whispered bitterly.

He sighed noisily, took a last look around him and finally approached the statue's base. He grasped the edge on which the legs of the great horse were resting and climbed onto the platform as best as he could.

He set out to climb the statue. He grabbed one of the animal's legs, and tightened his legs around its neck. Once he was well hooked, he pulled himself up by the strength of his arms to the animal's head and found himself face to face with the rider's face. His chirugai was stuck across his helmet, as if he had wanted to counter this threatening enemy. The mercenary grasped the weapon and pulled it out of the marble with a sharp blow, before hanging it up back to his belt.

He then turned his attention the weapon the horseman held: it was much more impressive than from below. Its thick handle was elegantly detailed. The young man was surprised, however, at the colour of the blade, which was as white as the ivory the rest of the statue was carved from. He frowned.

If this is the one, its blade should be black.

The mercenary got his gaze a little closer. With his fingertips he softly stroked the blade, admiring its clean lines. However, he soon felt a certain roughness, as well as reliefs quite unusual for a sword of this type. A strange sensation was deposited on his fingers. When he withdrew his hand by reflex and observed his hand, he realised he had a kind of white powder on it. His heart jumped.

Paint...

He then took a little knife from out of his pockets and carefully scraped the white film on the blade. After a few insistent rubbings, the paint crumbled, and revealed a notch as black as ink.

Bingo

A smile appeared on his face. Without wasting any time, he put away his knife and set about freeing the sword from the statue's hand. Kurtis pulled and pushed with all his might to give the weapon some play, but after several tries, nothing moved.

He concentrated: slowly he took several deep breaths and closed his eyes. He focused his mind on the cold stone under his hands, and after a few moments the blade finally moved, pushed by the force of his mind while he exerted a final pressure with his hands. The sword suddenly released itself from its rider, not without tearing off a few fingers in the process.

Sorry man, this is for the greater good

It was heavy, and much more imposing than he had thought. In a last effort, he lifted it up to him. Kurtis admired it for a short moment, then, relieved, strapped it on as he could in his back. He quickly descended from the statue, then, considering the distance that separated him from the ground, he let himself fall, and landed softly on the marble parving stones. He stood up, looking around again. He stopped breathing, trying to listen up, his heart beating fast against his rib cage.

I have to find Croft now

He entered the staircase.

'Roman?'

The Russian didn't answer.

'I have the sword, I'm getting back to Lara.'

No answer. The mercenary frowned, but yet he tried to put himself together. He walked down the main staircase and silently returned to the lower floors, once again sinking into the darkness and silence of the old building's maze.

When he came back down to the first floor, He recognized the corridor in which the museum's agents had chased them, shooting them at close range. Some marble columns still bore the impacts of the bullets.

As he was about to enter the staircase that would take him back to the basement, he heard something somewhere behind his back. Instinctively, Kurtis turned around, pulling his Boran X out and aiming at ramdom in the dark.

All of a sudden, several metres away from him, as if coming out of the darkness, a silhouette appeared. At first glance he thought it was a security guard. But when his eyes looked at the shape in more detail, he realised that it was much too small and tiny, and that it didn't look like a security guard. But he noticed above all the long-shaped weapon held by the figure, which glowed in the dark night.

The mercenary felt a pinch in his heart. His brain suddenly seemed to freeze and obstruct all sensation in his body, preparing him for battle. The figure took a step forward, out of the half light. The mercenary's gaze crossed the almost transparent eyes of his enemy.

'Won't tell you I'm happy to see you again, Trent.'

Morgau took some steps towards him, her long spear dragging across the marbled ground in an almost shrilling squeal.

'I don't give a single fuck.'

Vasiley started to run towards him, gaining momentum. Kurtis pulled the trigger without thinking. His magazine emptied in seconds, but the bullets did not seem to hit their target. He didn't have time to grab his clip. The sentinel jumped forward, her spear brandished above her head, ready to shoot him down. The American rolled to one side to escape the blow. The sharp blade fell with a metallic noise against the floor. Before she could get up, Kurtis gave her a side kick, which knocked her to the ground.

The mercenary's chirugai suddenly came to life and whistled straight at the sentinel at full speed. The young woman dodged it at the last moment, as it hit the ground, where she had been standing a few fractions of a second earlier. The flying object suddenly rose into the air, describing a wide arc circle, before going back in her direction. Like an arrow, it struck the young woman again, who brandished her spear to protect herself. The metal disc ricocheted off it and rose again into the air.

'I see you're still carrying around this crap?' she said ironically.

'You mean the one you've never been able to master?' the adventurer replied in the same tone.

The chirugai twirled again in the air before suddenly descending towards the young woman. This time, she didn't have time to turn around, and the blades made serious cuts in her arm. She escaped a cry of pain when the blood splashed out in a large spurt on the opposite wall. The spear fell from her hands and slid a little further, out of reach.

'Given the weakness of your mind, I am not surprised you never managed to control it.'

'Fuck you, Trent.'

Kurtis charged at her. He hit her head on, and they fell to the ground. The sword that had been hanging on his back fell off in the shock and slid to the ground in a resounding din. He dodged the first punches that the young woman threw at him, but could not counter the knee blow that struck his ribs.

Morgau took advantage of the mercenary's moment of weakness to give a powerful impulse, which made them both swivel. Kurtis found himself trapped under the young woman, who stared at him with her crazy gaze, before throwing down her fists. The young man dodged them one by one and blocked the young woman by her wrists. With the help of his foot, pressing down with all his might, he propelled her and swung her over him. He saw her float for a very short moment in the air, as if suspended, before landing heavily on the ground a little further away. She escaped a grunt, halfway between rage and pain. As he swivelled and stood up, Vasiley was already coming back to him, kicking him hard in the face. The mercenary managed to block the other foot that was coming towards him, and threw his fist forward, which hit Morgau in the face. As she was about to retaliate, she suddenly swung back, dodging the chirugai which was coming back at her.

The mercenary took advantage of this moment of confusion to give her a powerful kick in the stomach, which once again caused her to take several steps backwards. She collapsed to the ground, out of breath. Her head hit the marble floor.

Panting, stunned, she tried to get up, but she staggered, and fell back to the ground, one hand clutching her belly. Kurtis caught up his chirugai, which was coming back towards him, retracted instantly, and slipped it to his belt. Breathing heavily, he approached his enemy still on the ground. She was squirming in all directions, and the mercenary noticed the black liquid flowing from her wounded shoulder and mouth.

'You know things could have been different, Morgau.'

She escaped an ironic laugh. She stared at him with her big glassy eyes, her mouth formed a twisted smile.

'And for whom? The lone wolf and tortured mind you are? For your fucking fanatical father and all the Order's bastards who abandoned me to Eckhardt and Karel?'

As he was about to rebut, Kurtis suddenly felt a movement in his back. As he turned around, he was suddenly struck in the torso. The young man bent in half. He didn't have time to react as an electric shock suddenly burned his stomach and paralysed his whole body. His muscles became tetanized and a sharp burn went through him from head to toe. The mercenary collapsed to the ground, unable to support his own body. The pain was sharp, his jaw was so tight and tense he thought his teeth were going to burst. His breathing was uncontrollable. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw five or six men surrounding him, all dressed in black military jumpsuits with guns in their hands. Helmets concealed their faces. He saw the taser with which he had been hit in the hand of one of the soldiers. He also heard Morgau growling, probably in an effort to get up. Ranger boots approached him with a heavy step. He looked up at his assailant and was overcome by an uncontrollable burst of rage.

'Good to see you again, Trent.'

Gunderson's cavernous voice echoed around him. He saw Morgau join him, her face full of black blood, who look down on him with contempt from all her height. Kurtis could not help but grunt in pain as the young woman held the tip of her boot to his throat. She escaped a sadistic laugh.

'Lux Veritatis, my ass.'

She raised her boot and knocked him down with force. Everything turned black.

—

She walked with a quick step, sinking a little deeper into the dark corridor. The various galleries filled with works of art paraded at high speed before her eyes. She was furious. Despite the help of Roman and Sasha to go faster and guide her, her research in the archives had come to nothing.

'Roman?'

No answer. The earpiece sizzled, but Roman didn't respond. She had the idea of going upstairs to the royal flats, where Kurtis should logically be.

She slowed down when she arrived at a crossroads of galleries. Lying in a corner, she checked that the way was clear on one side and then on the other before continuing. She went into yet another corridor.

To save time, she branched off into the gallery that opened up to her on her left. This one, just like all the other ones, was full of paintings, and if she had calculated correctly, it would take her to the Pavilion Room and then to the stairs.

A flash of light at the other end of the corridor suddenly made her stop suddenly. She rushed to hide behind an imposing wooden piece of furniture, kneeling down. She lurked as much as possible in the dark corner so as not to be spotted. After a few moments, the reflections of light disappeared. Lara came out of her hiding place at wolf's pace, glimpsing around her. She stood up slowly. Then her gaze was suddenly drawn to the work on the opposite wall.

The tapestry, extremely detailed, covered the wall in its entirety. At first, Lara did not immediately understand what it was about, before finally distinguishing men in armour, horsemen, arrows, shields, but above all blood, and dead corpses.

A battlefield

Without being able to determine exactly why, the scene seemed strangely familiar to her: soldiers and horsemen mingled with countless bodies and weapons strewn across the ground. She noted the sandy, almost desert earth that was depicted, as well as the hilly landscape. Peaks, or rather rocks she imagined, were scattered in the background, like pillars that would have sprung from the earth. In the background of the work, almost hidden, a dozen monsters with long claws and outstretched wings seemed to fall on the army that was fighting them. But above all, she noted the strange expression frozen on each of the faces, that of fear and death. She frowned.

A metallic clacking sound resonated behind her. Lara recognised without hesitation the noise of a weapon someone loads. When she turned to the sound, she saw three men in uniforms waiting for her at the other end of the gallery. She wanted to turn around and go in the other direction, but she stopped dead in her tracks: other men were also standing at the other side of the gallery, their weapons aiming at her.

She knew right away that they were not museum security guards. In one movement, the men came closer with a steady step, gradually surrounding her. For a split second, she felt like simply running into the heap to find a way out. After a fresh look from each side, she realised she would not have a chance.

Soldiers were coming at her with their guns pointed at her. Furious, but resigned, she raised her hands in a sign of submission.

The armed group stopped a few metres away from her. After a moment when nothing happened, some of the men stepped aside, leaving the way open for a man who came between them. Taller, but also with more stature, he walked towards the young woman, a triumphant gleam in his black eyes devoid of all compassion. The young woman's blood froze in her veins.

'Gunderson... it's been a long time since we've seen you around.'

He observed the young woman impassively.

'Lots of business to do, but I guess you know what it is. Glad to see that you are doing quite well since we met in Prague.'

'Sorry, the pleasure is not really shared,' replied the adventuress as she pulled out her guns and aimed at him.

'You should not spoil me for a fight, Miss Croft.'

'Oh, why not? Are you going to send your big guns after me to slap my fingers?'

Gunderson exuded a wicked smile. With a nod, les soldats resserrèrent le cercle autour de l'aventurière. Two more emerged from the darkness, dragging a shapeless mass with them. Her heart liquefied when the young woman recognized Kurtis. Gagged, his arms tied behind his back, his head leaned forward, he seemed unconscious. When Gunderson intercepted the adventurer's gaze, his smile only grew larger. The guards tightened around her, pinning her against the wall.

'Bring me that slut!'

Lara didn't have time to react. Three men rushed at her. She opened fire on the first one that came at her, who collapsed at her feet, dead. She managed to wound the second, but the other two men were on her in a faction of seconds. She tried to push them away with her fists, but after a short fight, one of them had neutralized her with his arms, and the second one punched her in the face. Another punch, this time in the abdomen, made her bend in half. She let out a cry of pain. The third guard then stepped forward and punched her in the face. She fainted.