Lara Croft in the Search for Xanadu Chapter 11: The Brothers Grim, 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 11: The Brothers Grim

Back to the darkness of caves, the illusory protection of limitless rock. Hiding, resting, sleeping - anything but moving while her jumping heart cooled and the violence flickered into memory. Perched high on a ledge Lara Croft now knelt and peered down into the hallway - the man-made hallway hacked through the cliffs that supported the Dome - her mouth stretching wide to accommodate the yawn that rolled up through her chest and into the stuffy air of the cavern. In her adrenaline charged state she had hardly noticed the elaborate stone archway carved into the foot of the cliff. Without looking back she had made her way through the darkness with the certainty of a sleepwalker until coming to a section of crumbled wall, she had climbed to her present vantage point to regain her strength through sleep.

Angela had woken her, nudging her mind into consideration of her next step. Confident that Hurt and his men were stranded on the far side of the gorge she could think forward to her meeting with Smiley, his repulsive sidekicks and of course Angela. Lara had no sign of them but she knew they had come this way; she would find them either somewhere along this subterranean highway or in the Dome itself. The Orb would be there too, maybe. The thought of plunder caused her tomb raiding instincts to flare momentarily but like a match struck in the wind the interest was extinguished by the full force of her concern for the kidnapped girl.

The Dome lay above, a thousand feet of rock between, the threat of its beauty suggested by the geometric artistry of this slave built cavern. The walls were cleanly cut and adorned with carvings depicting the glorious history of the Mongols now obscured by the dust of centuries. Lara, dropping lightly to the intricate tiling of the floor, imagined the multicoloured drapes, rich hangings and lanterns long since perished by time. Walking where Kubla Khan had once passed in state she let her mind unreel the footage of her imagination: the Emperor, grave and self-confident, shunning the offered litter, desiring his own regal but mortal feet to carry him to the Dome where, merely one whispered wish away, immortality waited. She noticed the ground rising - a good sign. But Kubla had never made that wish and she saw him bend a thousand times over the wonderful, glittering Orb while some flaw in his ego prevented him uttering the sacred words that would bring it to life and make him a god. He had died peacefully in his sleep. The broad pavement of the entrance cavern ended at a flight of stone steps that spiralled up into the darkness. Lara stopped and looking back into the absence of light let her thoughts shift from Kubla to Hurt. She now realised that no chasm, no matter how wide, would provide a big enough obstacle to Hurt's immense ambition. She turned and began climbing the tall steps reflecting now on Smiley: was he after the largest diamond in the world or that one deadly wish?

Time passed rapidly as she drove herself hard through the catacombs of the cliff's interior, tempted by narrow crinkled stairways and resisting the tantalising glimpses of treasure-filled chambers and salons, always keeping to the main path and moving steadily upwards towards the Dome. The feeble light from her dying torch barely kept the darkness away, slowing her, as did the warm underground air thick with the centuries of dust she disturbed with her climbing progress. She rested but never for long - the promise of reaching Angela harrying her on to movement. Eventually her haste was rewarded.

Rounding another bend in the main staircase her deprived senses seized on a faint trace of light which thickened as she scraped her back against the wall, inching towards its source with a burgeoning sense of dread mixed with hope and excitement. As the light grew it also began to move - the reflected waving of firelight coming directly through an open doorway now at her shoulder. She gently eased herself forward, swivelling her head, scanning the interior with a glittering eye. A spacious hall, completely bare, its walls and ceiling hidden by the shadows that lurked at the perimeter of the firelight's range. The fire itself had been lit to one side, restricting her view and obliging her to bend further into the open doorway. Her heart pounded above the low indecipherable buzz of talk rising from the three figures seated like chieftains around the campfire. She ignored it and them for the moment, her eye roving now, searching for the diminutive form of Angela. Panic threatened to blossom inside her as she swept the room one more time and a voice in her head pleaded for a sign of the girl.

As if in answer one of the seated figures hauled itself to its feet - Pimp or Pump? In her agitation she couldn't find the necessary detachment to make an ID; just following his silhouette as he strolled into the shadows beyond the rim of firelight. He returned with Angela asleep in his arms - a reflex almost carried Lara bursting into the room. At the boundary of shadow he suddenly stopped and turning, stared straight at her, alerted by the sense of being watched. She batted away the instinctual response of pulling back out of sight and froze instead, trying to become part of the furniture. Pump - she could see it was him; a touch lighter than his brother and if possible even uglier - continued to stare, expressionless apart from his open questioning mouth. Lara hardly dared to breathe as the accumulated rage and frustration clamoured for action inside her; the sight of the peacefully sleeping Angela the only fragile barrier in her fight for self control. Then she lost it.

As her mind fought to calculate her options she watched as an involuntary string of saliva abseiled from Pump's gawping mouth, coming to rest on the burnished surface of Angela's hair. At the sight of this sacrilege her rage erupted, bubbling over into a screaming charge that sent her hurtling into the room like a banshee in search of blood. Despite the power in her anger there was no control and seconds later she found herself pinned beneath the weight of Smiley and Pimp, while Pump tried to quieten the woken Angela by out screaming her. The girl was having none of it: ignoring Lara's shout of warning she pounded at Pump with her small fists.

Through a veil of fury and panic Lara experienced the events of the next few moments as a series of confused disconnected highlights: the blurred movement of limbs, physical pain and brief shots of Angela biting and then slapped as she struggled with the brute energy of a small wild animal. Lara's own resistance came to an end with a heavy immobilising blow that seemed to set her brain spinning in her skull followed by an acute stabbing sensation as one of the men dragged her by her hair towards the fire. Gathering what strength remained she tried to raise herself until a cold metallic click at her temple revealed Smiley aiming his pistol at her from point blank range. "Damn it, Lara", he said through blood stained teeth where an elbow had caught him. "That was fun!" Somewhere a twin sniggered moronically.

Disdainfully ignoring the pistol, she turned her head to look at Angela, who was quietly weeping at Pump's side, one shoulder hunched as if waiting for the next blow, her eyes cast sideways in hate at the man at her side. "Don't worry, darling," said Lara. "It's all going to be OK."

"Sure it is," called Smiley in a jolly voice. "Why don't you give your auntie Lara a big kiss?" he said to the girl, waving his gun casually between them.

Angela didn't need telling twice, flinging herself at the prone Lara and burying her tear-blotched face into her shoulder. Lara whispered reassurances quietly into the child's ear and listened to the child's anger and fear without taking her eyes off their captors. Smiley, his gun still in his hand walked around to the other side of the fire and dropped to the ground, muttering to himself about not being so young anymore. The twins stayed standing at the edge of the firelight out of view although Lara could hear Pimp forcing breath through his crooked nose while his brother, lost in his own madness, continued to snigger gently. "How long were you out there watching?" Smiley asked, not expecting an answer and not getting one. "He's got a great nose that, Pump. Smell pussy a mile off."

"Not that he gets much," added Pimp, his thick voice coming from the darkness. Lara resisted the temptation to turn and glare, while Pump's snigger became a brief howl of hysteria that he suddenly choked off.

Smiley ignored both of them and continued: "Now we ain't got much time here, so lets get down to it straight away. This is how it goes, Lara mate. Before I hand you over to the boys here, you tell me what Hurt's up to. I know that stuck-up bastard's around here somewhere and I also know you ran into him otherwise you would've walked in here with more than a war cry and plucky British spirit." Staring into his wrinkled eyes Lara considered what to give away and what to hide in order to get them out of there. But Smiley's gaze was equally piercing and he seemed to be able to read her mind. "Now, I know what you're thinking but we're not trading here, Lara. I want you to understand that. We don't need anything from you; we've got all the data thanks to Rupert, we've got our young virgin, Angela here..."

Virgin! What the...? It was all she could do not to shout out and show Smiley how little she knew. To cover her alarm she quickly interrupted: "Reed's dead by the way. Hurt found out about your little arrangement and he's on his way."

"Poor old Rupert," Smiley intoned in a mock-sympathetic voice. "Look, I don't give much of a shit about Hurt and he's certainly not the cavalry as far as you're concerned so you can forget that. Nevertheless, I am curious so spill the beans and we can get on our way." He sat back waiting, the pistol carelessly balanced on one knee. "Stupid bitch," he added as an afterthought.

Lara forced herself to smile while she restrained Angela, who had risen to her feet in Lara's defence. She was thinking hard but not many realistic options offered themselves. Smiley sighed and continued: "OK, Lara mate. I can see you're not going to tell me so I'll have to leave that to the boys here while me and Angie get a move on." Smiley stood and clicked his fingers: "Come on now brat, time to get a going."

Angela responded with a surprising variety of colourful language garnered from archaeological digs, grabbing Lara tighter still as Pimp prised her away and passed her screaming and kicking to Smiley. Each time the girl called her name so desperately was like a blow to Lara, who had risen to her knees and was trying to maintain the girl's attention. "It's OK," she repeated again and again. "I'll come and get you. I won't be long."

It took a dry cuff from Smiley to quieten the child, bringing a furious Lara instantly to her feet so that Pimp and Pump intervened and lowered her back to the floor. Despite the coolness she exhibited Lara was incandescent with anger inside, only her fears for Angela preventing her from some desperate chaotic act of violence. Staring fixedly at the girl in the hope of calming her she saw from the corner of her eye how Smiley shouldered a rifle, a rucksack and bent for a lantern. Half dragging, half carrying the weeping Angela he moved over to the far side of the room, the light of his torch revealing a huge pair of closed ornate double doors. He looked back briefly before turning and pushing at one of the doors, waited while it swung open silently and fluidly, allowing a silvery light to the flood the chamber behind him. Dwarfed in the gigantic open doorway Smiley turned again to face his henchman and the restrained Lara. "The entrance to the Pleasure Dome. Pretty, ain't it? Adios Lara, and boys, don't take too long we're on a schedule here!"

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Barely a shift in weight, much less an attempt at standing and the bright tongue of steel came flickering out of nowhere, its cold edge pressed against the soft skin of her throat. The low hiss of Pimp's voice: "Not leaving the party already, are you? It's only just started." His scrawny dishevelled form came into view, her own knife held steadily before him as he squatted in front of her, the jumping light of the flames nearby distorting his already hideous features. His brother, appearing at his shoulder, dragged himself along on his knees, his reptilian eyes wide and expectant, his chin bathed in the spittle of his unconfined excitement. As they looked their prize over, savouring the moment and reviewing whatever diabolical intentions running through their twisted minds, Lara forced the disarray of her feelings into something nearing order. She needed to gain time, to allow the possibilities for action to present themselves. "Where's he taking her?" she asked casually.

"Shut the fuck up!" shouted Pimp, getting himself into the right mood.

"If I don't talk, I can't tell you about Hurt. You heard him," nodding towards the open doors, "he wants to know."

"Shut up!" he spat out. "You'll talk all right - later. Right now, let's see those fuckers out in the open." He nodded at her breasts, his brother thumping him on the back and whooping in encouragement. When she made no move Pimp leaned forward, the tip of the knife extended to slice open the front of her T-shirt. Still too early for the inevitable violence, she couldn't stop her hand flashing out and grasping his wrist, her strong fingers raking the flesh until his furious eyes filled with pain. With his free arm he swung at her and landed a stinging blow on her cheek that broke the contact and left her tentatively prodding the side of her face. The delighted Pump bounced gleefully as he watched her return to her sitting position. "Hey," he called over and as she looked he reached down to the front of his trousers, cupping his genitals in both hands and pretending to wave them at her. Again she couldn't help herself and looked away in disgust. "Hey, bitch. Don't get offended. Soon you gonna be seein' these balls real close." He rolled back and forth laughing gormlessly at his own witticism. Pimp meanwhile was on his feet, towering over her: "Enough. Get them tits out. Do it sexy. Do it NOW!" he roared.

Lara's patience failed her. Sitting as she was she simply hooked her feet around the inside of his ankles and with all the strength in her powerful thighs, snapped her legs open to their full extent. Surprise and pain competed in Pimp's expression, as he stood frozen in an almost comical posture - the tendons in his legs stretched beyond their limits, his knees automatically bent inwards to compensate. Pump, too stupid to realise what was happening, clapped encouragingly as Lara, sitting like a gymnast on the beam, butted Pimp as hard as she could in the groin. He managed a faint croak as he fell forward onto his face, occupying the space that Lara had just vacated. Rolling onto her back, lifting herself into a handstand and flipping her extended legs over her head, she now stood facing the twins in the smouldering light of the fire.

Pump, finally catching on, his face contorting in anger, began to rise. He got as far as kneeling before Lara's sledgehammer kick into the side of his head sent him sprawling towards the flames. Turning her attention back to Pimp she saw a hand blindly fumbling for the knife. Lara stepped quickly into the air and brought both of her booted feet crashing down onto his outstretched hand, dragging from him a high-pitched yelp that was suddenly drowned out by a desperate screaming from behind. Pump was rolling in agony on the ground, his head a ball of flame where his hair had caught fire. Lara stood between them balancing recovery times in her mind. She saw Pimp, still face down making an effort to stand and so turning towards him she sought out the weak spot like a predator, raised one leg and kicked powerfully with her heel into the narrow joint between the back of his head and his unsupported neck. His body seemed to deflate as it slumped immobile. Meanwhile, his brother had managed to extinguish the flames and lay on his back whimpering and attempting to scrub away the pain in his blackened pate. His anxiety increased as he watched Lara snatch up the knife and begin walking slowly towards him. Her smile had a demonic cast in the reflected light of the fire's embers and sent him scampering backwards, pain replaced by fear. "So," she asked casually, "want to play 'Doctors and Nurses'?" Raising the blade she tested its edge with her thumb. A thick globule of dark blood welled up and without deflecting her stare from Pump's terrified eyes she slowly slid her extended thumb between her lips, closing her eyes as if savouring a sensual pleasure and gently removing it with a soft sucking sound: "Now then, Pump," she said, hefting the knife, "let's see these balls you promised to show me."