Path of Destruction
Part Seven: Unusual Happenings
Miss Lara Croft stood poised to attack. Her pistols stretched out in front of her ready to annihilate their target, Samuel Beeman. The announcement that he was not a CIA agent did not come as any sort of big surprise to her for, after hearing the tale of he and Devon's exploits on her trail, she was inundated by doubts of the fact.
Meanwhile, Devon stood by waiting for an opportunity to do away with either of the two. As far as he was concerned they were both standing between him and his goal, which meant that they were both expendable. That being the case he decided, for the moment, to ally himself with the lady with the gun. "So, go ahead and shoot him," he ordered impatiently.
The explorer cocked her head to one side. "Unlike like you," she told the Texan, "I prefer to not to kill every living thing, at least, not right away. And you," she said turning her focus back to the man who was not a CIA agent, "do you mind telling me who you are?"
The man took a deep breath and gazed around the room trying to ascertain the extent his options. He found two: talk or be shot. It took nearly two tenths of a second to weigh the outcome of each of these and answere. "My name," he began, "is Doctor Samuel Beeman, archeologist."
Lara raised an eyebrow. "Archeologist," she questioned in disbelief.
"That's right Miss Croft, we aren't all grave robbers."
The tomb raider glared evilly at the man. He had just made the mistake of hitting on a very sore spot. For many years people throughout the field had proclaimed her as a person who was not a "real" archeologist. It grated on her nerves every time and now the man in front of her seemed to be among their number. "Grave robber," she snapped, "just because I don't go mucking about in the dirt all day-"
"Why don't we get back to why this yellow snake is here," Devon interrupted. The squabbling had begun to take its toll on the Texan. A headache, in the form of a miniature migraine had started to move into his skull. He desperately longed for Lara to squeeze back on the triggers of her weapons and dispatch the newly revealed archeologist for good. Her response to the same question just moments before, however, was much less than satisfactory to this desire forcing him to take matters into his own hands. Unfortunately, the only solution he could conceive of was to allow the man to continue to explain his story. "What do you want with Croft," he asked his compatriot menacingly.
"The same thing you want," he replied, "the jewel."
Croft shoved her weapons back in their holsters. She realized now that she had to allow him to live on the off chance that he knew something about the artifact that she didn't. "Who sent you," she asked still very seriously.
"I think I've told enough for now," he stated quite boldly. With his adversary's guns safely tucked away he suddenly felt ten times braver than he had a moment before. He was feeling so courageous, in fact, that he very quickly forgot about the large gentleman to his left. This was soon corrected, however, when the southerner introduced the man's head to the metal bars of the cell.
"I think you had better look around runt," Devon yelled while pushing himself into the other man's face, "you aint exactly in a position to make the rules."
Beeman reached into his hip pocket and removed a small folded piece of parchment. "You've got a lot of room to talk," he groaned still reeling the attack. He held the paper up out for all to see, "You weren't down here just to find Miss Croft?"
Seeing his property in the hands of another person Devon lunged forward in an attempt to retrieve it. The other pulled back quickly just in time to avoid the assault. At the same time Lara moved behind him and took hold of the coveted object and was pulling it from his hand.
"Where did you get this," she asked as she scanned the parchment.
The archeologist flung around in shock at losing his treasure. "I got it off of him," he responded pointing at the Texan.
Without even glancing at either of the two men the explorer looked over the characters imprinted on the parchment. "This is certainly interesting," she said after a moment, "Apparently the next stop after all the jewels are located is somewhere in Israel."
Devon's face turned into its usual expression of malevolence as she spoke. It was exactly what he wanted to hear. "Thank you very much Miss Croft," he said smiling evil, "I was going to have that translated later on but now it looks like I won't need to go to the trouble."
"True enough," Lara agreed as she folded the parchment in half and placed it into her pocket, "but I'm afraid it's not going to do you any good. Where is the stone from Egypt?"
The American stared back at her as if she where the victim of some form mentally illness. "I ain't got it," he told her. "Some goofy CIA agent got a hold of it," here he glanced to the side toward Sam, "A real CIA agent that is."
At that Lara's face contorted its self into a very wide smile, a smile that slowly transfigured its self into the form of a slightly maniacal chuckle. It was enough to make both men very nervous. Then, in the next moment, their anxiety was turned to unimagined fear as the explorer reached into her backpack and removed a large blue gem. "You mean like this one," she inquired holding it out for all to see.
Devon stared on in confused wonderment. He wasn't sure how it had happened but at last two of the three artifacts were within his grasp with the third very close by. That is, until Mr. Beeman opened his mouth. "It's a fake," observed the archeologist arrogantly.
"So, you knew the late Dr. Jones did you," asked the young lady knowingly. The young man's arrogance suddenly dropped as if it were a cartoon anvil. He had just given away too much information and both he and his female counterpart knew it.
The only person that did not seem to grab the significance of the statement was the Texan who was very much more concerned with the fact that the stone was bogus. "What do you mean it's a fake," he groused.
"I worked with him," the young man told Lara. He was now in mode somewhat resembling shop talk making him totally oblivious to the other man or anything he had to say.
Croft, on the other hand, was now simply ignoring him for the shear pleasure of it. "So do you have the other one," she inquired curiously.
"Yeah, where is it," reiterated the fifth wheel not yet realizing that he had been temporarily excommunicated from the group.
"It's secure," answered the archeologist.
Still not understanding that he had been removed from the conversation some time ago the southerner pushed himself in yet again. "That ain't what she asked," he said trying to intimidate his countryman.
In an attempt to drive home the point that the American's opinions were of no practical use to the conversation Croft stepped directly between he and the other man. "Now let's see," she said once she had sufficiently removed the outsider, "what do these three stones have in common?"
It was question that was very much worth considering, especially now that they were faced with the fact that they all had something to do with Israel. It was very probable that such a question and most certainly would have led to a very philosophical and enlightening debate between the two collegues had not Devon interrupted.
Over the past few minutes his ire had been building up. He was finally aware that he was being ignored and he wasn't going to allow it to continue any further. To rectify the situation he pushed himself back in front of the explorer. "Look, you varmints," he yelled, "since you're all suppose to be such experts bout all this why don't figure us a way out."
Sam looked the Texan directly in the eye. He was now very irritated with the man's incessant interruptions and mindless drivel. His mind raced through a thousand different ways to answer the question but he could not bring his self to say any of them. Meanwhile, the southerner's face started to bend into an expression of evil that sent shivers down the archeologist's spine. He was beginning to feel backed into a mental corner. "I should have killed you when I had the chance," he sneered.
Sensing trouble, Lara once again stepped between the two men. "Would the two of you kindly shut up," she ordered, "We have more pressing concerns now than getting out of here."
"Like what," Devon scoffed sarcastically.
The explorer lifted an eyebrow. "Like him," she said pointing at the iron bars. As the men turned to look behind them they were shocked to see a Roman Centurion gazing at them from behind the bars. He looked somewhat like the other soldier that Lara had encountered earlier in the cave except he was somewhat younger.
He stared intently at the trio as if they were animals in a zoo. Never before had he, or anyone in his society for that matter, encountered such strange people whose clothes and language and adornments were so vastly different. It was only too bad that they were intruders and had to be executed.
Just then a second soldier appeared behind him and began, for some reason or another, to verbally abuse him. "What are they saying," Devon asked casting an eye in Lara's direction.
The explorer cocked her head to one side hoping to catch the gist of the exchange, but, while she was well versed in the Latin language the best that she could do was to pick out the spare word or phrase. "Its no good," she finally conceded, "They seem to have developed a dialect unlike anything I've ever come across."
"What about you Mr. Archeologist," roared the Texan mockingly to the other.
Beeman, who had been listening just as long as his female colleague shook his head in defeat. "All I can get are bits and pieces and I'm even guessing about some of those."
Croft crossed her arms in front of her and leaned back onto one foot. "Well whatever they are saying I'd guess that it all boils down to one thing. We're about to find out if you're right about that coliseum.
At that very moment while still in the midst of the verbal attack a third guard entered onto the scene brandishing his drawn sword. Immediately, the other two unsheathed their weapons and prepared to open the cell. They then arranged themselves into an arch blocking off part of the passage in case one of the prisoners decided to make a break for it.
When they had properly organized themselves the guard closest to the cell pulled out a long iron key, inserted it into the lock, and turned. As he swung the door open the outsiders backed up and prepared themselves for anything that might come their way. To their surprise, however, they simply stared into the cell as if they were waiting for something.
This was the scene for several seconds, each party staring across the room at the other attempting to discern their intentions. Finally, the first centurion came to the realization that simply opening the door was not going to be enough to get the prisoners to out of the cell so he began to bark out orders as if he was sure that they could understand him. Strangely enough this seemed to have the desired effect for, when they saw that they were not about to be the victims of an assault they came to the conclusion that the only other thing left to do was to leave the cell and follow their captors.
Cautiously, they moved out of the cell still half expecting to be sliced to ribbons by the sharp instruments in the hands of the guards. Lara could now see for the first time what she had missed by being unconscious before. She was standing on a long ramp amidst a narrow corridor that sloped downward past the Romans and around a corner.
Ahead of her the ramp proceed upward toward a set of very ominous looking wooden double doors. They had been constructed very quickly and unprofessionally in the beginning and now that time had taken its toll on them they were showing the signs of rot. Many of the boards were cracked with small holes were pieces had already come loose and fallen to the floor. Through these gaps in the wood snuck several rays of light from the room beyond. It was truly a miracle that they were still attached to their hinges.
As the three explorers moved up the ramp toward the mysterious doors Croft stroked the butt of her weapon. She was feeling an insatiable desire to pull them out and shoot her way to freedom. At the same time she knew that there was a reason for these people to be here and she didn't want to ruin her opportunity to find out.
Still, she was very nervous about the whole situation that lay ahead of her and her companions. "Let me go first," she said pushing her way in front of the other two, "I'm armed."
Devon chuckled slightly to himself in an attempt to relieve some tension. "What was that you said before about destroying the greatest anthropological find of the century," he mocked.
Lara cocked her head to one side. "How would like a belt right in the cakehole," responded the tomb raider.
When they reached the doors they stopped while the guards repositioned themselves. Two moved to the side of each door while the third stayed behind to watch on the prisoners. When they were ready the centurion in the back said something to which the others responded by opening the doors.
As the doors slowly swung open the three prisoners could now see what that they were correct in their assumptions. There before them stood a huge arena. It was bigger in area than any sports stadium that had ever been constructed. It rolled around in a complete circle presenting an air of ominous fear that lurked in the hearts of everyone who saw it.
Even so Miss Lara Croft was fascinated by it for the top of it was constructed unlike any thing she had ever read about. There were no seats around the edge to treat the citizens in the bloody sport. Above the area floor the rock ceiling sloped acutely down connecting to the side of the arena in the place of any spectators.
The sides of the arena were dotted all the way around by several burning torches. They hung out from the wall as if they were meant to be traps, designed to set ablaze anyone who may get too close. Between each of these stood a wooden door not entirely dissimilar to the one that had just been opened in front of the three prisoners.
Despite all of this there was at least one witness to the carnage for out of the rock face across the arena protruded an elaborate box. The sides were decorated beautifully with shiny brass designs etched into the wood. They started at the top on each side and moved downward coiling around themselves repeatedly until they reached the very bottom and could go no further. This, the explorer concluded, must be a place for the governor or other high up official to watch from.
In the several seconds that were spent to take all of this in the patience of the guards, who were standing behind the trio, soon waned. Brandishing their swords threateningly they pushed the motley crew into the ring and swiftly slammed the doors behind them.
"Now what," Devon asked scrutinizing the area around them for danger. He was feeling very lost at the moment with out the protection of his shotgun. On top of this, all of his hopes of survival rested on the nine millimeter pistols that were still nestled securely around the waist of the woman that he been trying to kill for some time and who had recently tried to kill him.
Croft glanced behind her to make sure that she knew where her two companions were. Something was about to happen and she intended to be ready for it. Clutching her pistols in each hand she scanned the room preparing herself to draw expediently and kill any one or anything that might emerge from any of the wooden doors that surrounded them. As her heart started to beat faster and faster she could feel the effects of the adrenalin as it began to course through her veins. She seemed to slip into a trance forgetting everything around her except the numerous entryways surrounding her.
"This kind of reminds," Beeman quipped trying to cover his fear, "of a video game I use to play when I was kid."
The ridiculousness of this statement that had it been uttered under any normal circumstances the Texan would have cold cocked the archeologist without a second thought. As it was, however, it only served to confuzzle him to the point that the only thing that he could think to say was, "This ain't no video game."
"Steady gentlemen," Croft instructed without moving an inch, "just stay behind me."
Sam glanced around nervously thinking that perhaps he had missed something. "You talk like you've been in a coliseum before."
The explorer smiled knowingly. She was just about to explain about her adventures at St. Francis Folly when the wooden doors all around the arena began to slowly open revealing the opponent for the upcoming competition.
To be continued...
Part Seven: Unusual Happenings
Miss Lara Croft stood poised to attack. Her pistols stretched out in front of her ready to annihilate their target, Samuel Beeman. The announcement that he was not a CIA agent did not come as any sort of big surprise to her for, after hearing the tale of he and Devon's exploits on her trail, she was inundated by doubts of the fact.
Meanwhile, Devon stood by waiting for an opportunity to do away with either of the two. As far as he was concerned they were both standing between him and his goal, which meant that they were both expendable. That being the case he decided, for the moment, to ally himself with the lady with the gun. "So, go ahead and shoot him," he ordered impatiently.
The explorer cocked her head to one side. "Unlike like you," she told the Texan, "I prefer to not to kill every living thing, at least, not right away. And you," she said turning her focus back to the man who was not a CIA agent, "do you mind telling me who you are?"
The man took a deep breath and gazed around the room trying to ascertain the extent his options. He found two: talk or be shot. It took nearly two tenths of a second to weigh the outcome of each of these and answere. "My name," he began, "is Doctor Samuel Beeman, archeologist."
Lara raised an eyebrow. "Archeologist," she questioned in disbelief.
"That's right Miss Croft, we aren't all grave robbers."
The tomb raider glared evilly at the man. He had just made the mistake of hitting on a very sore spot. For many years people throughout the field had proclaimed her as a person who was not a "real" archeologist. It grated on her nerves every time and now the man in front of her seemed to be among their number. "Grave robber," she snapped, "just because I don't go mucking about in the dirt all day-"
"Why don't we get back to why this yellow snake is here," Devon interrupted. The squabbling had begun to take its toll on the Texan. A headache, in the form of a miniature migraine had started to move into his skull. He desperately longed for Lara to squeeze back on the triggers of her weapons and dispatch the newly revealed archeologist for good. Her response to the same question just moments before, however, was much less than satisfactory to this desire forcing him to take matters into his own hands. Unfortunately, the only solution he could conceive of was to allow the man to continue to explain his story. "What do you want with Croft," he asked his compatriot menacingly.
"The same thing you want," he replied, "the jewel."
Croft shoved her weapons back in their holsters. She realized now that she had to allow him to live on the off chance that he knew something about the artifact that she didn't. "Who sent you," she asked still very seriously.
"I think I've told enough for now," he stated quite boldly. With his adversary's guns safely tucked away he suddenly felt ten times braver than he had a moment before. He was feeling so courageous, in fact, that he very quickly forgot about the large gentleman to his left. This was soon corrected, however, when the southerner introduced the man's head to the metal bars of the cell.
"I think you had better look around runt," Devon yelled while pushing himself into the other man's face, "you aint exactly in a position to make the rules."
Beeman reached into his hip pocket and removed a small folded piece of parchment. "You've got a lot of room to talk," he groaned still reeling the attack. He held the paper up out for all to see, "You weren't down here just to find Miss Croft?"
Seeing his property in the hands of another person Devon lunged forward in an attempt to retrieve it. The other pulled back quickly just in time to avoid the assault. At the same time Lara moved behind him and took hold of the coveted object and was pulling it from his hand.
"Where did you get this," she asked as she scanned the parchment.
The archeologist flung around in shock at losing his treasure. "I got it off of him," he responded pointing at the Texan.
Without even glancing at either of the two men the explorer looked over the characters imprinted on the parchment. "This is certainly interesting," she said after a moment, "Apparently the next stop after all the jewels are located is somewhere in Israel."
Devon's face turned into its usual expression of malevolence as she spoke. It was exactly what he wanted to hear. "Thank you very much Miss Croft," he said smiling evil, "I was going to have that translated later on but now it looks like I won't need to go to the trouble."
"True enough," Lara agreed as she folded the parchment in half and placed it into her pocket, "but I'm afraid it's not going to do you any good. Where is the stone from Egypt?"
The American stared back at her as if she where the victim of some form mentally illness. "I ain't got it," he told her. "Some goofy CIA agent got a hold of it," here he glanced to the side toward Sam, "A real CIA agent that is."
At that Lara's face contorted its self into a very wide smile, a smile that slowly transfigured its self into the form of a slightly maniacal chuckle. It was enough to make both men very nervous. Then, in the next moment, their anxiety was turned to unimagined fear as the explorer reached into her backpack and removed a large blue gem. "You mean like this one," she inquired holding it out for all to see.
Devon stared on in confused wonderment. He wasn't sure how it had happened but at last two of the three artifacts were within his grasp with the third very close by. That is, until Mr. Beeman opened his mouth. "It's a fake," observed the archeologist arrogantly.
"So, you knew the late Dr. Jones did you," asked the young lady knowingly. The young man's arrogance suddenly dropped as if it were a cartoon anvil. He had just given away too much information and both he and his female counterpart knew it.
The only person that did not seem to grab the significance of the statement was the Texan who was very much more concerned with the fact that the stone was bogus. "What do you mean it's a fake," he groused.
"I worked with him," the young man told Lara. He was now in mode somewhat resembling shop talk making him totally oblivious to the other man or anything he had to say.
Croft, on the other hand, was now simply ignoring him for the shear pleasure of it. "So do you have the other one," she inquired curiously.
"Yeah, where is it," reiterated the fifth wheel not yet realizing that he had been temporarily excommunicated from the group.
"It's secure," answered the archeologist.
Still not understanding that he had been removed from the conversation some time ago the southerner pushed himself in yet again. "That ain't what she asked," he said trying to intimidate his countryman.
In an attempt to drive home the point that the American's opinions were of no practical use to the conversation Croft stepped directly between he and the other man. "Now let's see," she said once she had sufficiently removed the outsider, "what do these three stones have in common?"
It was question that was very much worth considering, especially now that they were faced with the fact that they all had something to do with Israel. It was very probable that such a question and most certainly would have led to a very philosophical and enlightening debate between the two collegues had not Devon interrupted.
Over the past few minutes his ire had been building up. He was finally aware that he was being ignored and he wasn't going to allow it to continue any further. To rectify the situation he pushed himself back in front of the explorer. "Look, you varmints," he yelled, "since you're all suppose to be such experts bout all this why don't figure us a way out."
Sam looked the Texan directly in the eye. He was now very irritated with the man's incessant interruptions and mindless drivel. His mind raced through a thousand different ways to answer the question but he could not bring his self to say any of them. Meanwhile, the southerner's face started to bend into an expression of evil that sent shivers down the archeologist's spine. He was beginning to feel backed into a mental corner. "I should have killed you when I had the chance," he sneered.
Sensing trouble, Lara once again stepped between the two men. "Would the two of you kindly shut up," she ordered, "We have more pressing concerns now than getting out of here."
"Like what," Devon scoffed sarcastically.
The explorer lifted an eyebrow. "Like him," she said pointing at the iron bars. As the men turned to look behind them they were shocked to see a Roman Centurion gazing at them from behind the bars. He looked somewhat like the other soldier that Lara had encountered earlier in the cave except he was somewhat younger.
He stared intently at the trio as if they were animals in a zoo. Never before had he, or anyone in his society for that matter, encountered such strange people whose clothes and language and adornments were so vastly different. It was only too bad that they were intruders and had to be executed.
Just then a second soldier appeared behind him and began, for some reason or another, to verbally abuse him. "What are they saying," Devon asked casting an eye in Lara's direction.
The explorer cocked her head to one side hoping to catch the gist of the exchange, but, while she was well versed in the Latin language the best that she could do was to pick out the spare word or phrase. "Its no good," she finally conceded, "They seem to have developed a dialect unlike anything I've ever come across."
"What about you Mr. Archeologist," roared the Texan mockingly to the other.
Beeman, who had been listening just as long as his female colleague shook his head in defeat. "All I can get are bits and pieces and I'm even guessing about some of those."
Croft crossed her arms in front of her and leaned back onto one foot. "Well whatever they are saying I'd guess that it all boils down to one thing. We're about to find out if you're right about that coliseum.
At that very moment while still in the midst of the verbal attack a third guard entered onto the scene brandishing his drawn sword. Immediately, the other two unsheathed their weapons and prepared to open the cell. They then arranged themselves into an arch blocking off part of the passage in case one of the prisoners decided to make a break for it.
When they had properly organized themselves the guard closest to the cell pulled out a long iron key, inserted it into the lock, and turned. As he swung the door open the outsiders backed up and prepared themselves for anything that might come their way. To their surprise, however, they simply stared into the cell as if they were waiting for something.
This was the scene for several seconds, each party staring across the room at the other attempting to discern their intentions. Finally, the first centurion came to the realization that simply opening the door was not going to be enough to get the prisoners to out of the cell so he began to bark out orders as if he was sure that they could understand him. Strangely enough this seemed to have the desired effect for, when they saw that they were not about to be the victims of an assault they came to the conclusion that the only other thing left to do was to leave the cell and follow their captors.
Cautiously, they moved out of the cell still half expecting to be sliced to ribbons by the sharp instruments in the hands of the guards. Lara could now see for the first time what she had missed by being unconscious before. She was standing on a long ramp amidst a narrow corridor that sloped downward past the Romans and around a corner.
Ahead of her the ramp proceed upward toward a set of very ominous looking wooden double doors. They had been constructed very quickly and unprofessionally in the beginning and now that time had taken its toll on them they were showing the signs of rot. Many of the boards were cracked with small holes were pieces had already come loose and fallen to the floor. Through these gaps in the wood snuck several rays of light from the room beyond. It was truly a miracle that they were still attached to their hinges.
As the three explorers moved up the ramp toward the mysterious doors Croft stroked the butt of her weapon. She was feeling an insatiable desire to pull them out and shoot her way to freedom. At the same time she knew that there was a reason for these people to be here and she didn't want to ruin her opportunity to find out.
Still, she was very nervous about the whole situation that lay ahead of her and her companions. "Let me go first," she said pushing her way in front of the other two, "I'm armed."
Devon chuckled slightly to himself in an attempt to relieve some tension. "What was that you said before about destroying the greatest anthropological find of the century," he mocked.
Lara cocked her head to one side. "How would like a belt right in the cakehole," responded the tomb raider.
When they reached the doors they stopped while the guards repositioned themselves. Two moved to the side of each door while the third stayed behind to watch on the prisoners. When they were ready the centurion in the back said something to which the others responded by opening the doors.
As the doors slowly swung open the three prisoners could now see what that they were correct in their assumptions. There before them stood a huge arena. It was bigger in area than any sports stadium that had ever been constructed. It rolled around in a complete circle presenting an air of ominous fear that lurked in the hearts of everyone who saw it.
Even so Miss Lara Croft was fascinated by it for the top of it was constructed unlike any thing she had ever read about. There were no seats around the edge to treat the citizens in the bloody sport. Above the area floor the rock ceiling sloped acutely down connecting to the side of the arena in the place of any spectators.
The sides of the arena were dotted all the way around by several burning torches. They hung out from the wall as if they were meant to be traps, designed to set ablaze anyone who may get too close. Between each of these stood a wooden door not entirely dissimilar to the one that had just been opened in front of the three prisoners.
Despite all of this there was at least one witness to the carnage for out of the rock face across the arena protruded an elaborate box. The sides were decorated beautifully with shiny brass designs etched into the wood. They started at the top on each side and moved downward coiling around themselves repeatedly until they reached the very bottom and could go no further. This, the explorer concluded, must be a place for the governor or other high up official to watch from.
In the several seconds that were spent to take all of this in the patience of the guards, who were standing behind the trio, soon waned. Brandishing their swords threateningly they pushed the motley crew into the ring and swiftly slammed the doors behind them.
"Now what," Devon asked scrutinizing the area around them for danger. He was feeling very lost at the moment with out the protection of his shotgun. On top of this, all of his hopes of survival rested on the nine millimeter pistols that were still nestled securely around the waist of the woman that he been trying to kill for some time and who had recently tried to kill him.
Croft glanced behind her to make sure that she knew where her two companions were. Something was about to happen and she intended to be ready for it. Clutching her pistols in each hand she scanned the room preparing herself to draw expediently and kill any one or anything that might emerge from any of the wooden doors that surrounded them. As her heart started to beat faster and faster she could feel the effects of the adrenalin as it began to course through her veins. She seemed to slip into a trance forgetting everything around her except the numerous entryways surrounding her.
"This kind of reminds," Beeman quipped trying to cover his fear, "of a video game I use to play when I was kid."
The ridiculousness of this statement that had it been uttered under any normal circumstances the Texan would have cold cocked the archeologist without a second thought. As it was, however, it only served to confuzzle him to the point that the only thing that he could think to say was, "This ain't no video game."
"Steady gentlemen," Croft instructed without moving an inch, "just stay behind me."
Sam glanced around nervously thinking that perhaps he had missed something. "You talk like you've been in a coliseum before."
The explorer smiled knowingly. She was just about to explain about her adventures at St. Francis Folly when the wooden doors all around the arena began to slowly open revealing the opponent for the upcoming competition.
To be continued...