Lara Croft in the Search for Xanadu Chapter 9: Raison d'être', a tomb raider fanfic

Lara Croft in the Search for Xanadu Lara Croft in the Search for Xanadu

Neil Stokes

This story contains some violence and bad language.

Thanks to Eva, Chris and Jess.

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Chapter 9: 'Raison d'être'

Squeezing the last of the excess water from her braid Lara Croft contemplated the serenity of the sunless sea, which in its placid beauty showed no sign of her long freezing swim. Shivering she stood and checked her equipment but always keeping one eye on the irresistible sight of the Pleasure Dome in the far distance. She had spent part of her time in the icy water thinking about Angela and her abductors; she couldn't imagine how they had managed to descend the cliff face she had dived from. It was only when she finally arrived at the beach with the jetty that she saw more, smaller beaches on the opposite side, scooped out of the rocky base of the cliffs and some of which led into the black gaping mouths of caves. Before continuing with her journey she inspected the inflatable raft left by Smiley and the twins looking for clues and signs of Angela. She found nothing of interest and soon gave up, pausing only to check it was tied up correctly: she didn't intend to stay down here forever and she certainly didn't fancy another swim. Still she wasn't ready to leave, despite her urgency to find the girl she felt the need to turn and look once more at the incomparable sight she had passed through.

It was at that moment, surrounded by the shimmering light radiating from the rocks and reflected throughout the cavern by the mirror of the lake, standing within a scene from fable that few had ever witnessed and none for hundreds of years that Lara Croft truly felt complete. This is what she trawled the globe in search of; this privilege was her final motivation or had been until Angela came along. Turning towards the hills, the child with the sweet smile and the trusting nature once more entered her thoughts. Lara could be honest with herself when she considered how little finding the Orb of Longing really mattered to her when at one time it would have meant everything. In the space of a few short days her accepted world had dissolved before the needs of an orphan at the mercy of greedy brutal men. Saving Angela now appeared to Lara as a quest well worth risking a life for and a quest that promised a treasure at its end far more valuable than any precious stone, even if it were the largest in the world.

Her progress over the next few hours was slower than she had hoped. Although the gently undulating hills between the lake and the forest provided no real obstacle, the constant darkness once the shining rocks had been left behind steadily ate away at her stock of flares. The magnificent Dome in the distance would have perhaps produced all the light she needed if it hadn't been obscured by the tall forbidding trees of the forest ahead. Past experience had taught Lara not to complacently trust in an instinctive sense of direction; even the slightest deviation in a route, multiplied a thousand times with each step, could lead the unwitting traveller into a circling trap with only exhaustion at its end, or worse. Partly to rest but also to check her compass in the thin beam of light from her torch she stopped often, sometimes lighting a flare to judge her immediate surroundings. After a number of hours of this her watch told her it was past midnight in the outside world although in this immense cavern no change in the atmosphere could be detected. This threw up another danger she had learnt to be aware of; without the cycle of day and night beneath ground the traveller would continue without stopping to claim essential rest. Her fears for Angela and her impatience to catch up with Smiley tempted her to forego a lengthy stop but her experience and common sense took control and in the light of another flare she began preparing herself for sleep.

It was the sound of a gun that woke her. Over time her subconscious mind had become attuned to many random sounds of danger: the soft pad of a stalking animal or the creak of loosening rock but most of all the clink of gunmetal. Pausing only to allow her quickly waking mind to regain control she eased herself onto her haunches and tried to penetrate the blackness around with eyes acutely trained to adjust to the dark. A rippling glow of flame silhouetted the hill behind her as it approached, along with the quiet yet distinctive sound of boots treading on grass and the light jingle of carried equipment. A gruff whisper from the group beyond the hill's summit set her in motion. Reaching only for her shotgun she jogged silently in the opposite direction towards where she knew the forest started. As she arrived at the first of the grey trees torches lit up the terrain immediately behind her. She rounded the bole of a tree and squatting against its trunk looked back over her shoulder. A line of eight men filed into the hollow below the hill where she had been sleeping and where her equipment now advertised her recent presence. They were young and strong looking, wearing khaki uniforms and armed to the teeth. All except one; in a perfectly laundered sky blue safari suit, unencumbered by a rucksack or a weapon and now, with a look of mild interest on his handsome face, bending to examine her resting place, was Hurt. Lara's grip on the shotgun tightened involuntarily when she recognised him but she continued to squat immobile and observe.

Hurt straightened, brushing non-existent dust from his trouser legs, and beckoned to the group. The largest of the waiting men detached himself from the guard formation they had automatically arranged themselves in and the inexpressive Reed lumbered over to talk to his chief. Lara could not hear from their whispering what they said but after Reed returned to the group to pass on Hurt's orders she saw the men fan out in a semicircle and start walking in the direction of the forest where she crouched. The torches had been left with Hurt, making him an easy target as he snapped shut a cigarette case and calmly watched his private soldiers in action. Lara re-focused her attention on the line of approaching mercenaries, who had attached flashlights to the muzzles of their automatic rifles and who were slowly approaching. Resisting the instinctive urge to act no matter how precipitate or to cower hoping they would pass by without noticing her, Lara assessed the situation. Six men obviously highly trained, heavily armed and therefore extremely dangerous. She could cope with six she decided, especially in this darkness. Resting her chin on the barrel of her shotgun she considered further; six lives to douse for the sake of a jewel and even for the sake of a little girl seemed too high a price too pay at this point.

Slim beams of light from the rifles slicing through the gaps in the foliage, the crunch of boots on the dry earth while Lara stood, sliding her back against the bole of the tree. As the nearest of the men came into view she swivelled and hammered the butt of her shotgun as hard as she could into his surprised face. As he collapsed his rifle spurted into life, spitting a volley of bullets into the ground, followed by a longer burst from the others which shattered the dry bark of the tree where Lara was supposed to have been. Strands of torchlight furious swept the area as the men searched for something to aim at while two of the soldiers cautiously dragged their moaning companion away to safety by his heels.

Hurt, abandoned by his studied insouciance, took a few shocked steps backwards with the still unlit cigarette dangling forgotten from his dry lips. He opened his mouth to speak out to the men, who had reformed and were once more approaching the tree line, but before he could say anything he felt the cold touch of metal on the back of his neck. From behind, a gloved hand shot past his ear and Lara positioned the flaming Zippo she held so he could light his cigarette. Still flustered but acutely aware of the shotgun barrel pressing against his skin Hurt bent his head forward as calmly as he could and accepted the light. "I'll read the health warnings on the packets in future," he whispered in a shaky voice.

"If," Lara hissed, "you have a future."

"I do love you, Lara. You know that?" he said more calmly as if taking a strange comfort from her presence despite the shotgun.

"Call your dogs to heel, Hurt," she ordered.

Hurt spat out his cigarette and did as she instructed. The men, surprised, confused and impressed by the scene were recalled by Reed and led back mumbling towards where Lara stood behind Hurt.

"Far enough," she shouted, placing her boot into the crook of Hurt's knee and forcing him to the ground while she levelled the shotgun at the sullen group of soldiers who stood opposite, their rifles pointing safely downwards. "Come on, boys," she cried in a mocking tone, "you know what to do."

One by one, the soldiers placed their rifles on the ground and knelt beside them with their hands folded behind their heads, all except Reed, who glowered at Lara. "Not joining in, Mr Reed?" asked Lara. "You always were one to go it alone." Reed continued to stare at her but a movement of his eyes betrayed an understanding of her words that confirmed Lara's suspicions and prompted her to continue speaking: "While we're all here. Why don't you tell your uncle Hurt just what a bad boy you've been?"

From his kneeling position Hurt looked up into her face and then questioningly at Reed. "What does she mean, Rupert?" he asked.

Lara snorted in laughter: "Rupert?"

Reed ignored her and looking into Hurt's eyes said: "She's lying, boss."

"No she isn't," replied Hurt, glancing at the still smiling Lara and then back at Reed, "is she?"

"Of course, I'm not." Lara snapped. "For Heaven's sake, it's pretty obvious. How the bloody hell do you think Smiley knew how to get to this place when Cotting and his murderer, young Rupert here, were the only ones who had access to the maps?"

"You betrayed me?" asked Hurt in a shocked voice. "What were you hoping to achieve?"

Reed hung his head like a chastised schoolboy while Lara said: "You'll get over it. Now...whoa, boy down." Before she could finish her sentence Hurt had leapt to his feet and was running at the disgraced Reed. Lara raised her shotgun to fire but let it drop on seeing the soldiers grabbing at their rifles. She rolled to the ground away from the stream of bullets that slapped into the dust behind her. Her roll brought her to her feet and she sprinted for the cover of the trees while the mercenaries re-aimed and the infuriated Hurt clawed viciously at Reed, oblivious to the action taking place around them. Beyond Hurt's screeching and the metallic beat of automatic gunfire, the hiss of her adrenaline charged blood deafened Lara as she sped for the relative safety of the forest. As the line of trees drew nearer she launched into a long-reaching dive that became a powerful flip leaving her some metres away on her feet and racing into the darkness ahead.