A long corridor. Rough hands. A dark room. A steel chair.
Lara awoke with a cough. A mixture of blood and bile stung her throat and filled her nostrils with a foul odor. Pain shot from her arms at the slightest movement; whoever had tied her up had not accounted for circulation. Above all this was a headache of epic proportions that felt like her skull was shrinking and her brain expanding.
She heard thick doors swing closed behind her. Opening her eyes was still unpalatable. Breathing was a chore. She felt as if she'd been running; her legs ached and her heart raced.
While sucking in heavy gasps Lara struggled to open her eyes. Fortunately the ambient light was dim. A few muted spots of yellow and from below violets and scarlets. Something moved to her right. A man. He turned and advanced. Lara's stomach involuntarily knotted.
"Have you ever seen anything like it?" The man gestured to the surrounding room. The spacious, extravagant room. Lara's spine tingled at the sound of the man's voice.
"No I haven't." Frankly I'm not seeing much of anything.
"It is a rare privilege you have to be here. I hoped you would be impressed."
"Get to the point," Lara said wearily. She blinked slowly trying to focus. There was a large table about four feet in front of her. Another man, a statue of a man, stood in the far left corner of the room. Lara closed her eyes again. Even the momentary strain had taxed her. As if inflamed by shards of dull light her headache worsened. As the headache grew breathing became more difficult. The knot in her stomach tightened.
"At this point you and I have a common enemy. A common goal if you will. The American Ryan Caruso has something that belongs to me."
"The Idol."
"Call it what you will. You are going to find him and get it for me."
"In your dreams."
The man continued as if she hadn't spoken. "And I suggest you don't involve anyone else in this. I had to kill a couple good Interpol agents last week. It was more of a nuisance than anything." He pulled some photos from the desk and put them in front of her. "Look at them," he ordered.
"Go to hell." Lara half snarled.
The man paused for a moment as if considering the option and then he replied. "That's the idea."
Lara's eyes shot open. The man's face was directly in front of hers. He was smiling that shark smile but he was not amused in the slightest. Lara's stomach felt like it would collapse on itself. Of its own accord her breathing quickened. It was as if something had hijacked her body and had thrown every switch into the "on" position. Then "off" and "on" again. What's happening to me?
"The arithmetic is quite simple. I have two things that you obviously care for," the man with the shark smile gestured to the monitor atop the large table. On the split screen Lara could make out two men in separate rooms. James and Paul. "And you are in a position to acquire two things that I care for."
Lara gestured tiredly to her bonds. "I'm not in much of a position for anything."
Shark man brought his face so close to Lara's she could feel his breath. "Don't be so certain." He stood up and smiled again. Again totally devoid of joviality. "Bring me the Idol and Ryan Caruso and I will release to you your friends. You have one week. After that time is up I will send you a finger from one of your friends for each day you are late."
Lara reared up in protest. The pain from her swollen wrists shot directly into her brain. Her stomach, her head, all of it felt as if on the verge of explosion. And then suddenly it dissipated. Lara felt coldness on her arm. It was shark man's hand. "You will do as I command."
Her stomach filled with ice. Her mind released its tenuous hold on the present.
Darkness.
Nothing.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
Lara reached out her hand to shut off the alarm clock. The darned thing wouldn't quit.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
She rolled over in bed and faced the awful machination. She pounded the weak plastic casing without success. Pretending to ignore the device she faced the hardwood ceiling of her spacious room in Surrey. No luck. She rolled away and pulled the thick covers over her head. Leave me be. I am so tired just let me alone.
She threw the covers back in a last attempt to free herself of the clock's rule. Instead of her room at Croft Manor was darkness. A shadow emerged with gleaming teeth and glowing red eyes. In an instant it was on her. She could feel actual icy fingers clamping onto her throat. The teeth came at her. The shadow would sate his hunger with her.
She screamed. She screamed as if for hours from the bottom of her being until it roiled out from her insides and charred her throat.
Stop.
Where does it end? Where is the line between darkness and light? And where am I?
Her eyes opened distrusting. It had all been so real. What was fake and what was true? What was dream and what was awake? Her throat hurt as if she had actually been screaming. Her head hurt immensely and breathing came in shuddering gulps.
All at once sensory data flooded into her thoughts. Smells of diesel and urine stumbled on top of bitterness in her mouth which in turn blended into gnawing hunger and sounds of traffic. The eyes sought to make reason of it all.
She was lying on her side in an alley half-encased in a heap of refuse. Above her the early afternoon sky was overcast. Despite these circumstances she didn't feel like getting up. She didn't feel like anything. The sound of a train that seemed much too close battered her ears. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
Lara's heart started again. She screwed her eyes shut. Please God no. I can't handle this right now. I...just... But this was not like her nightmare. Something was different. A small vibration against her thigh. A cell phone? Lara dug into her pocket with numb hands and pulled out a small phone. It was real. She flipped it open.
"Hello?" Her voice was coarse and hollow.
"One week, starting now. You have some money in your pocket; enough to get you to the airport. I suggest you work quickly." The line went dead.
Reflexively Lara checked the time. It was 12:05. She stumbled to leaden legs and slowly tried to work feeling back into her body. Everything was numb, raw. At her first step away from the alley wall she collapsed landing face first in the trash and rubble. Angrily, she rose to her feet once more and carefully plodded forward. Some of her strength returned and she was able to reach the street. Not many people were on the sidewalk. Lara thought that was probably a good thing, less attention the better.
To her right was a train station. She could hear something over the loudspeakers...Portuguese, continental Portuguese judging by the accent. So I'm in Portugal. Shark man is in Portugal. Here he'll pay for what he's done. Lara consulted a map in one of the red plastic enclosures by the tracks. She was in a place called Mem Martins, almost the end of the Sintra line that extended out from central Lisbon. Lara purchased a ticket for the train and slumped onto a bench to wait.
And when I get to the airport? I don't have enough to buy a ticket and I have no passport. I could go to the consulate. No, I can't afford to wait. I can't risk their involvement. Lara pulled out the phone again and dialed a number from memory.
"Hello?"
"Winston, it's me."
"Dear God! Lara, we thought...we thought...are you alright? Where are you?"
"I'm in Lisbon. Listen carefully. I need you to get the next flight here and bring enough money for you and I to fly back to London. I want to be there by tonight. Do you understand?"
"Yes, yes. You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you. But are you alright?"
"No," Lara admitted. He would know anyway. "But the sooner you get here the better I'll be."
"I will be right there."
"And bring a change of clothes if you would," Lara added.
"I will. Love you." Lara smiled slightly as Winston did that smacking sound of a kiss over the phone.
"Love you too." She hung up. It was the first bit of levity she'd had in...however long it had been since she last saw Paul. As if on cue the clouds parted a bit and the sun peeked through. Lara turned her face to it and soaked it in, feeling ever so slightly energized by it.
A series of clatters announced the arrival of her train. She boarded and collapsed into an empty seat.
I'm coming Paul.
I'm coming, James. I'm not going to lose you again.