Lara slept restlessly that night, barely sleeping, and when she did sleep she had twisted nightmarish dreams.
(Dream Sequence)
"...I wish you could remember her," Lord Croft said sadly, to Lara's younger, dream self. Young Lara and Lord Croft were sitting in his office.
"One day, it will all come back to me, Daddy," Young Lara smiled. "You say that when I get older, I'll remember more things."
Lord Croft looked at Lara, right in her eyes. Young Lara tugged on his sleeve.
"You said you'd remember her when you were older. You haven't, have you," his voice was accusing. "You don't know anything about her... But remember, whatever you want to find, you will find."
Lara jerked awake, her heart pounding. Her father had never spoken so sharply to her, except for the time she almost lit a fire in the library.
The phone interrupted her. *Who could be calling at this hour?* Lara thought, still groggy from sleep.
"Croft."
"Shugrave."
"Saw your conference. Thought you may need quick transport. Tookie is in London and will be happy to take you," Shugrave paused. "I'd do it, but I'm in Vegas."
"No, you're not," Lara repressed a yawn.
"No, I'm not. But we've now been on the telephone for 19 seconds and I need to go."
Lara listened to the dial tone for a second and placed the phone back. *How the hell had Shugrave known about the conference?*
Lara pushed that thought from her mind and rolled over. Now she was more alert, she thought about her dream. Her dream-father had been so sharp with her because her mind was revealing her fear of him being angry with her for forgetting her mother.
Lara awoke about eight, tense and feeling like she hadn't had a wink of sleep.
Dressing in jeans and a tank top, she went downstairs, where Hillary was serving breakfast.
"Scrambled eggs and Cappuccino, Lara?" Hillary asked cautiously, noticing the slightly dark expression on Lara's face.
"Yes, thank you, Hillary," Lara noticed Bryce was on his laptop. "What are you researching?"
"Those swords you're going to find. It's definitely Rome," Bryce slurped his coffee. "Some old mansion on the outskirts, I'd say."
"Mmm," Lara murmured, testily.
"Lara, a message from Shugrave," Hillary placed her breakfast on the table and handed her the piece of paper.
*L- Rang at 7 am and you were sleeping. I saw the conference of Pay TV. Tookie will phone you today, at noon. -S*
Lara crumpled the paper and began her breakfast. "Hilly, I'll be in my office, researching these swords. Any telephone calls, will you take a message?" Lara didn't bother waiting for Hilly's answer, she just went to her office.
She set up her laptop and ran a scan on Rome. Her father had a small house there, a townhouse that she had redecorated two years ago. She needed her neighbor, Maria Andretti to air the place and arrange for some food.
"Lara?" Hillary stepped into her study. "Boothby's auction house are on the telephone. Shall I take a message? Christie's have already called."
Lara tapped her chin. "If Boothby's are wondering whom I'll hire to sell the swords, tell them Boothby's are my first choice."
Hillary nodded. "Tea, Lara?" he asked, at the doorway.
Lara smiled gratefully. "If it's not too much trouble, Hilly."
So. Where would the swords be hidden? No intelligant person would hide a fotune in weaponry in the same place; they'd hide them seperately, in obvious places. But then, Lara decided. They could expect people to think like this and hide them in a bunch in a horrible, complicated place. Bugger.
Lara ran a search on all the mansions on the outskirts of Rome - twelve. Five were abandon, the rest were hostels and bed and breakfasts.
She ran searchs on all the past inhabitants and the swords and local criminals. Everything she could think of.
"Lara," Bryce stood at the door of her office. "Hillary sent me to tell you to go get ready; the Hawkins' are going to be here in two hours."
Lara rubbed her eyes and glanced at the clock. It was 3:30! Her mind full of four letter words, Lara picked up the phone and speed dialed Tookie.
"Tookie?...Mmm, it's Croft. I need a motor bike and a car transported to Rome tomorrow. And three people....Yes, I know it's short notice.... Tomorrow, Heathrow airport...I've got to go. Okay, pick me up here at noon. Bye, thanks, Tookie."
Lara stood up and began tidying up her desk. She noticed a half empty cup of tea and half of a sandwich sitting on a tray. Lara didn't remember Hillary bringing her lunch - but she had been researching - hacking - for hours.
Hillary was setting the table, looking... a very old word flitted into Lara's mind, which suited Hillary at that moment. Hillary was vexed.
"Bryce went to pay the florist, but that was fifteen minutes ago," Hillary sounded tense. "He said something about your Porsche."
Lara nodded, a faint smirk on her face. The local florist, Lucy, was the object of Bryce's rather bumbling affections. It would've been cute if Bryce wasn't a grown man.
Lara strode outside, to see Lucy gazing at Bryce, who was chatting avidly on about *Lara's* Porsche.
"Bryce," Lara smiled briefly.
"Lara," Bryce looked at her nervously, and quickly handed Lucy the money and took the flowers. Wordlessly, he took the arrangments inside, leaving Lucy and Lara outside.
Lara smiled at Lucy one last time and followed Bryce inside.