Chapter Two: How To Use A Door
The police helicopter pilot leaned left, sending the copter spiraling. He, and the other occupants, laughed with glee, then spun it the other way. Suddenly, the searchlight mounted on the front caught sight of a woman sliding across a wire. They watched as she slithered along, then hopped off and onto the roof of a building.
"You, stop!" one cried into a bullhorn, while another occupant loaded his gun and started to fire at her. She slid down a rooftop and left their sight.
Lara hurried through the doors and into a large room. Across the expanse was another ladder and a door up above. She grinned and ran, then jumped. Falling short a few feet, she hit the ground with an oof.
"Hm...I'm not strong enough yet." She looked around, spotted a box, and, using her index finger, pushed it a few millimeters. "There, now I can make that gap!"
After crawling the ladder and emerging on a roof, she saw the helicopter do a barrell roll into view. Through the bullhorn she could hear random squeals of 'whee!' and 'yahoo!'. A pipe across the alley leaked a bit of water. Lara looked back at the helicopter, smiled, and ran across the roof. At the last second she leaped and did a spiral twirl through the air before grabbing on to the pipe. It collapsed, and Lara fell, screaming the whole way down.
Thankfully, her fall was broken by a large mound of compost. After brushing most of it off her clothes, she headed to the address Werner had given her.
*~*~*
'Carvier's Garage' was usually open twenty-four-seven, but as of late there was a really big job down at the museum, fixing machines and such. The whole mechanic's place had been shut down so that their time could be devoted solely to the museum.
Lara pressed a finger to the buzzer and waited for the answer.
"Whaddya want?"
"Marge Cavier? It's Lara Croft. Werner Von Croy sent me."
A few seconds of silence passed, and then the door opened. "Hurry up, the rats are getting in."
*~*~*
Old Marge Carvier wasn't what one would expect. When thinking of her you'd probably get visuals of an obese woman in coveralls, with a monkey wrench in hand and a piece of straw sticking from the side of her mouth. Well, Marge Cavier was pretty much the opposite.
When Lara got to the door, it was opened and she met someone reminiscent of a grandmother. She wore a business suit, gloves, and large stillettos. Her hair was back in a tight bun, with a screwdriver through it.
"Get in," she snapped at Lara, pulling her by the arm. After slamming the door and stepping on any rats that entered, she crossed the room and kneeled back down beside the truck that was in the center. Lara sat down in a wooden chair, the only visible piece of furniture. Carvier laid down under the truck and began tinkering again.
"So, how is old Werner?"
"He's dead."
Carvier looked at Lara from under the truck. "Dead? How? Monkeywrench."
Lara passed her the tool, then sat down on the ground beside her. "We argued, and then there was gunfire. That's all I remember. Oh, and a trail of jellybeans leading to the bathroom."
"Gunfire?! Did you kill-" Her sentence was cut off as a stream of oil gushed out of the truck's bottom. "Ahh! Hand me that rag, quick!"
Lara handed it to her, and when the patch was made, Carvier came back out from under the truck and adjusted her skirt, then glared at Lara. "Did you kill him?"
"No! If I'd wanted to kill him, I could have done it in Egypt!"
"I probably should have mentioned this, but Werner left something for you. Now, you better leave, Ms. Croft. The police will be here any minute."
Lara's eyes widened. "You called the police?! Wait, he left something for me?"
"Yes, but-"
Lara put out a hand. "Hand it over."
"But-"
"Uh, uh, no buts. Hand it over."
Carvier sighed and slammed something into Lara's hand. Her wrist buckled from the weight and she fell to the floor beside it. After a bit of grunting, she pulled her palm out from under it.
"This is a collection of index cards Werner was going to use in his speech to the board of directors of the Louvre next month. You know him, he has the worst memory."
"Ah...ha..." Lara picked up the stack of index cards in her arms and shoved them into her pocket. Her body tilted to the right under the weight. Carvier stood and lifted the hood of her truck.
"As I said, the police are here."
Sure enough, sirens blared outside. Lara's eyes widened, she looked out the window, snatched a wine bottle, fork and diamond ring off the counter, then dove out through the glass and hit the ground below. Carvier strolled over, leaned out the open window, and called, "You could have used the door!"
*~*~*
"She alive?"
Lara opened her eyes and rolled onto her back, only to see a large poster for S.W.A.T. She screamed, then realized she was in a subway car.
And a hobo was poking her with a hotdog stick.
"She's alive," he confirmed to his friend. The other hobo grinned a gap toothed smile and nodded, then fell into one of the chairs and fell asleep. His friend shrugged, then walked back outside and to a small fire fueled by a huge pile of wood. She went outside with him.
"Nice day, isn't it?" she said to him. He shrugged again, shoved the dog that was with him onto the stick, and thrust it in the fire. After a few minutes, he pulled it back out and took a large bite out of it's leg.
"Mmm...extra crispy. You want some?"
"Er, no."
"Got any spare change? I'd love a coffee."
"Got any information? I need to find a man called Leotard. You heard of him?"
The hobo put his stick up to her face in a defensive stance, then pulled it back and took a bite. "Nope."
"But-"
"Go away, I never heard of him. Now, how about that spare change?"
She grinned and tossed him a few coins and bills, then took off for some stairs. He gathered it all up, then groaned.
"Aw man, 100 Canadian dollars! The only thing I can buy with this is toe nail clippers!"
*~*~*
"City guides in Paris are so under-appreciated. I mean, they think we're crazy, ain't that right, Squaky?"
Lara watched the young man sit down on the ground, scratch his head with his leg, then stand up and have a conversation with his invisible thing again. She cleared her throat loudly. "Excuse me-"
"You have a question about Paris? I've got an answer. With over two hundred hotels and fifty shopping markets, we are the-"
"I'm looking for a man named Louis Leotard. Heard of him?"
The man turned to his shoulder and asked the air, "Heard of Louis Leotard? No? Okay, I tell her." He turned back to Lara. "I've never heard of him, and neither has Squaky here."
"Is Squaky your bird?"
He looked at her with wide eyes, sat down and scratched his head again, then stood up and laughed. "No, silly, Squaky is my tiger!"
"Okay...well, do you know where I can find information about Leotard?"
"Try Cafe Petro," he said with a grin. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go. Nature calls."
Lara was already gone.
*~*~*
'That man was creepy,' she thought, edging around the wall away from him, only to bump into another person. She whipped around and smiled warmly at the prostitute standing there.
"I'm looking for Louis Leotard."
"Aren't we all? He hasn't been 'round here since the club closed."
"Club?"
"Le Chien Brun. His employee's were getting killed."
"Really?" Lara asked. "By who?"
"The Mockscrub, they say. Only two men left."
"And who would that be?"
The prostitute took a drag on the cigarrette she held, then blew the smoke in Lara's direction. "Phil and Ted."
"What can you tell me about Phil and Ted?"
"Well, Phil is a crazy man. He has attention deficit disorder, you see? Hard to get anything out of him. He own Cafe Petro down the street."
"And Ted?"
"Well, Ted is a mean old devil. He owns a hotdog stand up in the park, but don't buy anything from him; it's all made from pigeon meat."
Lara grimaced. "Wonderful. I didn't catch your name."
"It's Champagne. $2.00 an hour!"
"Er...no thanks. Bye then," Lara said, crossing the street. "I'm Lara!" she called back.
"Welcome to Paris!" Champagne called before hopping into a car that had stopped.
*~*~*
Cafe Petro. Largest gas station in the ghetto, it housed two pumps and a little restaraunt inside. The owner, Phil, had ADD, so most people tended to stay away from him, especially since he'd released a new book, 'ADD For Dummy's!'.
Lara passed the pumps, hopped a car that was there, kicked a chicken out of the way, and entered. Inside, a man bustled back and forth behind a counter, taking orders and generally just running back and forth. Another man, a customer this time, was in the corner sleeping, a copy of Entertainment Weekly on his face.
She approached the counter and picked up a copy of the book that lay there, 'ADD For Dummy's', with a pricetag for $30.00 on the front. She flipped it open and read a few passages, when the book was snatched out of her hands.
"So, you like my book? You ever read it? I haven't." Phil grinned and tossed it behind him. "You want a coffee? I like chicken. The sky is blue! I took gymnastics for four years. That man has a gun." A bag blew across the room, and he hopped the counter to chase it. "Paper bag, paper bag, paper bag, paper bag, paper bag, paper bag, paper bag, paper bag, paper bag..."
"I'm looking for information on Louis Leotard."
He froze and turned to her. "That's dangerous information!" he yelled. Lara shooshed him.
"I'm a dangerous girl, and right now I'm loosing patience."
"Well...hey, fires are burning in Canada! There's a war going on? My favorite color is green." The bag reversed direction. "Paper bag, paper bag, paper bag, paper bag, paper bag...."
"Hey, information!"
"Oh, yeah. Well, everyone wants something for nothing."
"It needn't be for nothing. We could trade."
"A trade? Heehee, barbies! Sand is hot. My teddy's name is Bob."
"Yes. Is there anything you want? Any loose ends need tidying up?"
"Well, there's this...thing."
"Really?"
He leaned on the counter and tapped his fingers. "A bottle of pills I forgot when I left Le Chien Brun. Get those pills for me, and I'll tell you where Louis Leotard is."
"Pills?"
"For my attention deficit dis-...paper bag, paper bag, paper bag, paper bag..."
"Why did you forget your pills? There obviously very important."
"Leotard hid them. Said I was more entertaining the way I was....paper bag, paper bag, paper bag..."
Lara snatched the bag and lit it on fire, then let it burn slowly on the yellowed-tile counter. "Okay then, I'll get your pills. Where are they?"
"In the stagelight. The one that is all wonky and shoots red rays at people. I like pigeons!"
"Okay, I can work with that..."
Phil scratched his face, then patted his head and rubbed his tummy at the same time, then sat down. "Go visit Ralph Fiennes on the corner, he can get you guns." Phil grinned, turned in a circle three times, then ran over and sat beside the patron. "Do you like eggs benedict? I make a mean eggs benedict."
Lara walked back over to the door, but paused when the patron, a man with dark brown hair and a frisbee hanging from his belt, held up his magazine and let her see the cover. 'Ten most wanted celebrities'. Her face was on it.
She snatched a salt shaker, then left as quick as she came.
*~*~*
"Are you open for business?"
"You got in, didn't you? Lets see some I.D., do you work for the government?"
Lara shut the door to the pawnshop and showed the man her identification, then leaned on the counter and pulled out her diamond ring, wine bottle, broken spectacles, fork and salt shaker. "How much for these?"
Ralph was a jumpy man, who sat on the counter with his legs crossed, silk green pillow under his posterior, wearing a tinfoil cap on his head. He also had clothe's hangers all about the back of the store. Lara asked him what they were for as he was appraising her goods.
"The government...they're always trying to take over my mind. Gotta keep the rays out, gotta keep the rays out...you need a cap!" He rumaged in a box beside himself and handed her a tinfoil cap with little antenna sticking up. She slipped it on sheepishly and prayed that nobody enter the shop.
"Okay, I'll give you ten euros for the ring, fifteen for the wine bottle, twenty for the salt shaker, fifty for the fork, and...three hundred for the glasses."
"Why so much?"
"Good metal...keeps out the rays..." He slid the money across to her, then twisted the spectacles and stabbed them into the top of his cap. He shot Lara a happy grin. "So, need anything else?"
"Guns. Maps. A crowbar..." She pulled a list out of her pocket. "A bottle of milk, two eggs, and a duffel bag filled with confetti."
*~*~*
Le Chien Brun was crawling with guards. Lara was able to get into the side door, though getting past the guards was another matter. Her most succesful technique was walking past while they were asleep (which was pretty much constantly).
She emerged into a large hall, filled with boxes. A bar lay in one corner, and doors were scattered all around. After collecting some bullets, a chocolate bar, and the covers off the stove, Lara flicked a switch by the DJ desk, and a record sprung to life. She ran up the stairs as strains of 'I'm Too Sexy' floated around the hall.
After alot of jumping and falling, she found the stage lights. One of them in particular was sniping the sleeping guards on the ground with red rays. Using the controls in the booth, she was able to get it to come to her. Inside lay a bottle of pills and a dwarf sitting on a stool, controlling the rays.
"Oh! Sorry."
She shut the little door, then ran for the exit.
The police helicopter pilot leaned left, sending the copter spiraling. He, and the other occupants, laughed with glee, then spun it the other way. Suddenly, the searchlight mounted on the front caught sight of a woman sliding across a wire. They watched as she slithered along, then hopped off and onto the roof of a building.
"You, stop!" one cried into a bullhorn, while another occupant loaded his gun and started to fire at her. She slid down a rooftop and left their sight.
Lara hurried through the doors and into a large room. Across the expanse was another ladder and a door up above. She grinned and ran, then jumped. Falling short a few feet, she hit the ground with an oof.
"Hm...I'm not strong enough yet." She looked around, spotted a box, and, using her index finger, pushed it a few millimeters. "There, now I can make that gap!"
After crawling the ladder and emerging on a roof, she saw the helicopter do a barrell roll into view. Through the bullhorn she could hear random squeals of 'whee!' and 'yahoo!'. A pipe across the alley leaked a bit of water. Lara looked back at the helicopter, smiled, and ran across the roof. At the last second she leaped and did a spiral twirl through the air before grabbing on to the pipe. It collapsed, and Lara fell, screaming the whole way down.
Thankfully, her fall was broken by a large mound of compost. After brushing most of it off her clothes, she headed to the address Werner had given her.
*~*~*
'Carvier's Garage' was usually open twenty-four-seven, but as of late there was a really big job down at the museum, fixing machines and such. The whole mechanic's place had been shut down so that their time could be devoted solely to the museum.
Lara pressed a finger to the buzzer and waited for the answer.
"Whaddya want?"
"Marge Cavier? It's Lara Croft. Werner Von Croy sent me."
A few seconds of silence passed, and then the door opened. "Hurry up, the rats are getting in."
*~*~*
Old Marge Carvier wasn't what one would expect. When thinking of her you'd probably get visuals of an obese woman in coveralls, with a monkey wrench in hand and a piece of straw sticking from the side of her mouth. Well, Marge Cavier was pretty much the opposite.
When Lara got to the door, it was opened and she met someone reminiscent of a grandmother. She wore a business suit, gloves, and large stillettos. Her hair was back in a tight bun, with a screwdriver through it.
"Get in," she snapped at Lara, pulling her by the arm. After slamming the door and stepping on any rats that entered, she crossed the room and kneeled back down beside the truck that was in the center. Lara sat down in a wooden chair, the only visible piece of furniture. Carvier laid down under the truck and began tinkering again.
"So, how is old Werner?"
"He's dead."
Carvier looked at Lara from under the truck. "Dead? How? Monkeywrench."
Lara passed her the tool, then sat down on the ground beside her. "We argued, and then there was gunfire. That's all I remember. Oh, and a trail of jellybeans leading to the bathroom."
"Gunfire?! Did you kill-" Her sentence was cut off as a stream of oil gushed out of the truck's bottom. "Ahh! Hand me that rag, quick!"
Lara handed it to her, and when the patch was made, Carvier came back out from under the truck and adjusted her skirt, then glared at Lara. "Did you kill him?"
"No! If I'd wanted to kill him, I could have done it in Egypt!"
"I probably should have mentioned this, but Werner left something for you. Now, you better leave, Ms. Croft. The police will be here any minute."
Lara's eyes widened. "You called the police?! Wait, he left something for me?"
"Yes, but-"
Lara put out a hand. "Hand it over."
"But-"
"Uh, uh, no buts. Hand it over."
Carvier sighed and slammed something into Lara's hand. Her wrist buckled from the weight and she fell to the floor beside it. After a bit of grunting, she pulled her palm out from under it.
"This is a collection of index cards Werner was going to use in his speech to the board of directors of the Louvre next month. You know him, he has the worst memory."
"Ah...ha..." Lara picked up the stack of index cards in her arms and shoved them into her pocket. Her body tilted to the right under the weight. Carvier stood and lifted the hood of her truck.
"As I said, the police are here."
Sure enough, sirens blared outside. Lara's eyes widened, she looked out the window, snatched a wine bottle, fork and diamond ring off the counter, then dove out through the glass and hit the ground below. Carvier strolled over, leaned out the open window, and called, "You could have used the door!"
*~*~*
"She alive?"
Lara opened her eyes and rolled onto her back, only to see a large poster for S.W.A.T. She screamed, then realized she was in a subway car.
And a hobo was poking her with a hotdog stick.
"She's alive," he confirmed to his friend. The other hobo grinned a gap toothed smile and nodded, then fell into one of the chairs and fell asleep. His friend shrugged, then walked back outside and to a small fire fueled by a huge pile of wood. She went outside with him.
"Nice day, isn't it?" she said to him. He shrugged again, shoved the dog that was with him onto the stick, and thrust it in the fire. After a few minutes, he pulled it back out and took a large bite out of it's leg.
"Mmm...extra crispy. You want some?"
"Er, no."
"Got any spare change? I'd love a coffee."
"Got any information? I need to find a man called Leotard. You heard of him?"
The hobo put his stick up to her face in a defensive stance, then pulled it back and took a bite. "Nope."
"But-"
"Go away, I never heard of him. Now, how about that spare change?"
She grinned and tossed him a few coins and bills, then took off for some stairs. He gathered it all up, then groaned.
"Aw man, 100 Canadian dollars! The only thing I can buy with this is toe nail clippers!"
*~*~*
"City guides in Paris are so under-appreciated. I mean, they think we're crazy, ain't that right, Squaky?"
Lara watched the young man sit down on the ground, scratch his head with his leg, then stand up and have a conversation with his invisible thing again. She cleared her throat loudly. "Excuse me-"
"You have a question about Paris? I've got an answer. With over two hundred hotels and fifty shopping markets, we are the-"
"I'm looking for a man named Louis Leotard. Heard of him?"
The man turned to his shoulder and asked the air, "Heard of Louis Leotard? No? Okay, I tell her." He turned back to Lara. "I've never heard of him, and neither has Squaky here."
"Is Squaky your bird?"
He looked at her with wide eyes, sat down and scratched his head again, then stood up and laughed. "No, silly, Squaky is my tiger!"
"Okay...well, do you know where I can find information about Leotard?"
"Try Cafe Petro," he said with a grin. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go. Nature calls."
Lara was already gone.
*~*~*
'That man was creepy,' she thought, edging around the wall away from him, only to bump into another person. She whipped around and smiled warmly at the prostitute standing there.
"I'm looking for Louis Leotard."
"Aren't we all? He hasn't been 'round here since the club closed."
"Club?"
"Le Chien Brun. His employee's were getting killed."
"Really?" Lara asked. "By who?"
"The Mockscrub, they say. Only two men left."
"And who would that be?"
The prostitute took a drag on the cigarrette she held, then blew the smoke in Lara's direction. "Phil and Ted."
"What can you tell me about Phil and Ted?"
"Well, Phil is a crazy man. He has attention deficit disorder, you see? Hard to get anything out of him. He own Cafe Petro down the street."
"And Ted?"
"Well, Ted is a mean old devil. He owns a hotdog stand up in the park, but don't buy anything from him; it's all made from pigeon meat."
Lara grimaced. "Wonderful. I didn't catch your name."
"It's Champagne. $2.00 an hour!"
"Er...no thanks. Bye then," Lara said, crossing the street. "I'm Lara!" she called back.
"Welcome to Paris!" Champagne called before hopping into a car that had stopped.
*~*~*
Cafe Petro. Largest gas station in the ghetto, it housed two pumps and a little restaraunt inside. The owner, Phil, had ADD, so most people tended to stay away from him, especially since he'd released a new book, 'ADD For Dummy's!'.
Lara passed the pumps, hopped a car that was there, kicked a chicken out of the way, and entered. Inside, a man bustled back and forth behind a counter, taking orders and generally just running back and forth. Another man, a customer this time, was in the corner sleeping, a copy of Entertainment Weekly on his face.
She approached the counter and picked up a copy of the book that lay there, 'ADD For Dummy's', with a pricetag for $30.00 on the front. She flipped it open and read a few passages, when the book was snatched out of her hands.
"So, you like my book? You ever read it? I haven't." Phil grinned and tossed it behind him. "You want a coffee? I like chicken. The sky is blue! I took gymnastics for four years. That man has a gun." A bag blew across the room, and he hopped the counter to chase it. "Paper bag, paper bag, paper bag, paper bag, paper bag, paper bag, paper bag, paper bag, paper bag..."
"I'm looking for information on Louis Leotard."
He froze and turned to her. "That's dangerous information!" he yelled. Lara shooshed him.
"I'm a dangerous girl, and right now I'm loosing patience."
"Well...hey, fires are burning in Canada! There's a war going on? My favorite color is green." The bag reversed direction. "Paper bag, paper bag, paper bag, paper bag, paper bag...."
"Hey, information!"
"Oh, yeah. Well, everyone wants something for nothing."
"It needn't be for nothing. We could trade."
"A trade? Heehee, barbies! Sand is hot. My teddy's name is Bob."
"Yes. Is there anything you want? Any loose ends need tidying up?"
"Well, there's this...thing."
"Really?"
He leaned on the counter and tapped his fingers. "A bottle of pills I forgot when I left Le Chien Brun. Get those pills for me, and I'll tell you where Louis Leotard is."
"Pills?"
"For my attention deficit dis-...paper bag, paper bag, paper bag, paper bag..."
"Why did you forget your pills? There obviously very important."
"Leotard hid them. Said I was more entertaining the way I was....paper bag, paper bag, paper bag..."
Lara snatched the bag and lit it on fire, then let it burn slowly on the yellowed-tile counter. "Okay then, I'll get your pills. Where are they?"
"In the stagelight. The one that is all wonky and shoots red rays at people. I like pigeons!"
"Okay, I can work with that..."
Phil scratched his face, then patted his head and rubbed his tummy at the same time, then sat down. "Go visit Ralph Fiennes on the corner, he can get you guns." Phil grinned, turned in a circle three times, then ran over and sat beside the patron. "Do you like eggs benedict? I make a mean eggs benedict."
Lara walked back over to the door, but paused when the patron, a man with dark brown hair and a frisbee hanging from his belt, held up his magazine and let her see the cover. 'Ten most wanted celebrities'. Her face was on it.
She snatched a salt shaker, then left as quick as she came.
*~*~*
"Are you open for business?"
"You got in, didn't you? Lets see some I.D., do you work for the government?"
Lara shut the door to the pawnshop and showed the man her identification, then leaned on the counter and pulled out her diamond ring, wine bottle, broken spectacles, fork and salt shaker. "How much for these?"
Ralph was a jumpy man, who sat on the counter with his legs crossed, silk green pillow under his posterior, wearing a tinfoil cap on his head. He also had clothe's hangers all about the back of the store. Lara asked him what they were for as he was appraising her goods.
"The government...they're always trying to take over my mind. Gotta keep the rays out, gotta keep the rays out...you need a cap!" He rumaged in a box beside himself and handed her a tinfoil cap with little antenna sticking up. She slipped it on sheepishly and prayed that nobody enter the shop.
"Okay, I'll give you ten euros for the ring, fifteen for the wine bottle, twenty for the salt shaker, fifty for the fork, and...three hundred for the glasses."
"Why so much?"
"Good metal...keeps out the rays..." He slid the money across to her, then twisted the spectacles and stabbed them into the top of his cap. He shot Lara a happy grin. "So, need anything else?"
"Guns. Maps. A crowbar..." She pulled a list out of her pocket. "A bottle of milk, two eggs, and a duffel bag filled with confetti."
*~*~*
Le Chien Brun was crawling with guards. Lara was able to get into the side door, though getting past the guards was another matter. Her most succesful technique was walking past while they were asleep (which was pretty much constantly).
She emerged into a large hall, filled with boxes. A bar lay in one corner, and doors were scattered all around. After collecting some bullets, a chocolate bar, and the covers off the stove, Lara flicked a switch by the DJ desk, and a record sprung to life. She ran up the stairs as strains of 'I'm Too Sexy' floated around the hall.
After alot of jumping and falling, she found the stage lights. One of them in particular was sniping the sleeping guards on the ground with red rays. Using the controls in the booth, she was able to get it to come to her. Inside lay a bottle of pills and a dwarf sitting on a stool, controlling the rays.
"Oh! Sorry."
She shut the little door, then ran for the exit.