December 21, 2000
It started with three story ideas, none of them Tomb Raider related. When the character of Lara Croft made her debut and impacted all who played the Tomb Raider games, my mind began to wonder and asked, 'What if Lara became involved with...', well, the result is this story which was woven from the three different ideas. The main premise was to create a tale that gripped the heart, entertained the soul, and provoked the mind to think. I apologize if it is not as action packed as other fan fiction on the net, but I hope you find it as enjoyable. Thank you for reading it.
Acknowledgements:
I wish to thank the following proofreaders, beta-readers, and/or editors, for their contributions to this story: Judy Gardner, David McCall, Julia Ramos, Jennie Ramos, Carmen Ramos, and those who wish to remain anonymous. A special thank you goes to Heidi Ahlmen, for her sharp insight where clarifications were necessary.
Lara Croft/ Tomb Raider is a creation of Adrian Smith for Core Design and Eidos Interactive, and published by Top Cow Productions, Inc.
The characters and incidents featured in this story are fictional. Any similarities to persons living or dead are purely coincidental. To infringe or challenge the copyrights or trademarks of the above is not the intention of this author.
Gerry Ramos
SilverRope@aol.com
THE LION OF GOD
The bright morning sunlight blazed through the window and fell on the desk where Dr. Terry Anderson sat. The eraser end of a pencil drummed on his pad. He scratched his head above the ear, and tossed some long strands of hair over his bald top. "Dr. Croft, I can't see anything to be concerned about regarding these dreams you have told me. In my opinion there doesn't seem to be any real significance behind them." He rubbed his jaw. "Now if we tried a little bit of hypno-therapy, I could probe your memory for more details and find out if something was overlooked in order to explain them."
"No hypnotism, please." Lara let out a heavy sigh. "Doctor, aren't there books about dream analysis you can obtain for further research? These dreams have become quite bothersome for the past two weeks."
"Dr. Croft, you have explained some remarkable things about yourself, your archaeological profession and expeditions, which, in all seriousness, I find highly unbelievable. Rest assured, under the doctor-patient privilege, none of this will be retold to anyone." Dr. Anderson reclined in the chair. "First of all, dreams are generated from the subconscious and reflect inner fears and joys. They manifest themselves into pleasurable dreams or nightmares. Your two recurring dreams suggest an anxiety or guilt that has not been addressed, or second thoughts on a direction your life has taken. But my reasoning is just a broad conclusion from what you have told me."
Lara leaned forward. "What else could it be?"
His hand took the glasses off and an end was used to tap against his lip. "Let me repeat what you have said. You are asleep and dreaming normally... when eventually you find yourself in a room in front of a table--."
"A silver table," she added.
His pencil scratched a few more notes on the pad. "Standing in front of a silver table and you hear a voice call your name."
"I don't know who is speaking, but my name is clearly heard. The voice continues and proclaims I am guilty of the charges and my punishment is death. Two sets of hands grab my arms... then I would awake with my heart racing and my hands shaking." Lara clutched her hands until they were red. "It takes a while to settle down and return to sleep."
Dr. Anderson took in a deep breath. "The second occurs in the same fashion. You are dreaming normally... then find yourself on a road walking with a number of people. Everyone is walking or running in the same direction. At some point along the road, you look to the side and view the scenery."
"Yes... and a castle appears in the distance. For some curious reason, I want to investigate. A dirt path is spotted that seems to head towards the castle. But after a few steps a snake bites my ankle and I collapse to the ground in pain."
Dr. Anderson smirked, "Were you wearing boots?"
Lara paused in thought, and replied, "If I remembered correctly, I was barefoot, and wore tan shorts with a white tee shirt."
"Did you try to get up and walk?"
She shook her head. "I just remember holding onto my ankle and crying in pain. After that, I would wake up."
His hands folded. "The second dream was not as disturbing as the first, I gather."
"Yet a sense of loss was felt when I couldn't continue on the dirt path, even after I had awaken." Her eyes closed and a hand brushed her hair back. "What do you suggest I should do about these dreams?"
The pencil rapped against the pad. "Well, if it is anxiety, my suggestion is to take some vacation time and do something relaxing. Generally that should do it." He paused and gazed at her. "But if you find the dreams still occurring, I want you to keep these things in mind. Try to remember as much details as possible and write them down. For example, in the first dream, take a three hundred and sixty-degree look around the room. See if other people are there and describe them in detail. Find out who is talking to you and whose hands are grabbing you. What does the room look like and what are you wearing." His legs crossed. "Same thing in the second dream, try to notice who is walking next to you. How long is the path to the castle? What does the castle look like? What happens when you try to continue on the path after the snakebite? With more details we could pinpoint the source of your anxiety, and maybe these dreams will stop."
Perturbed, Lara replied, "Maybe? Doesn't sound very promising. I was hoping for a more definitive solution. My associates recommended you as a fine psychiatrist with their glowing reports, and all you can give me is a 'maybe'."
"Dr. Croft, this is going to take some time. If you want me to help, please allow the patience and consideration to do what is necessary. I cannot make any promises, and if you are unsatisfied with that statement, then you can choose another doctor from a list of therapists and I will gladly hand my notes over to him, or her, if that is what you decide to do."
Lara frowned and fidgeted in silence for a moment. "When do you want to meet again?"
"How does next week look to you?" Dr. Anderson glanced at his calendar.
"I will be away somewhere in the Mediterranean Sea for the next two weeks."
Surprised, he asked, "On a cruise?"
"No, as an assistant to a treasure hunter."
His hands opened. "Well, there's your vacation, or consider it a working vacation. What will you be doing?"
"The treasure hunter found some sunken Egyptian ships. He is on a quest to find one that carried a tribute of gold to the Roman Empire. My job is to authenticate and record any artifacts discovered."
Dr. Anderson grinned, "Sounds exciting, and a good opportunity for you to squeeze in some relaxation time. Call my secretary when you get back to arrange another appointment." He looked at his watch. "Well, your time is up. Have a good two weeks, Dr. Croft, and I will see you when you return." He politely shook her hand and escorted her to the door.
* * *
A yellow sign hung on the door to Lara's office at the British Museum. It read, 'Under Construction - Enter at Your Own Risk'. Beyond her assistant's desk, and within her partitioned area of the room, Lara shuttled between a stack of folders near a filing cabinet and a tower of unkempt papers on her desk. A narrow passage through opened boxes and crates led to her chair. She moved a small trinket from the seat, placed it on a crowded table of artifacts, and began to sort her mail and messages by priority level. The important ones were replied by e-mail, voice mail, or inter-office memos. All others were placed in a stuffed 'hold' bin for later correspondence.
She glanced at the time and shouted, "Connie, did you get verification of delivery from the shipping company you used to send my equipment to Gavin Williams' villa?"
Connie poked her head in between the partition walls. "Just came over the fax. One less thing to worry about. Now you could breeze through customs without sounding any alarms."
Lara winked, "Good work, Connie. Well, my flight is scheduled to leave in three hours. Do I have everything I need?"
Connie checked a list. "Tickets?"
Lara patted the briefcase. "Right next to my laptop."
"Suntan lotion?"
"This is not that kind of trip where I will be lounging in the sun," Lara half-smiled.
"But you will be outdoors."
Lara stared at her like a young child to a mother. "You are soooo practical, Connie."
"That's why I lasted longer than your other secretaries," Connie emphasized.
"I will pick up a bottle at the airport. Anything else?"
Connie turned away and then looked back. "There is a young man waiting here. He wants to speak with you."
"Who is it?"
"He told me he is a graduate student and an assistant to Professor Robinson," Connie shrugged. "He said you would know."
Lara rolled her eyes and spoke, "Come in, Henry."
A thin, gangling young man marched in. He appeared twenty-four years old and under-nourished. Without any graceful acknowledgement, he stepped past Connie and blurted, "Dr. Croft, I need to speak with you."
Lara eyed him and marveled that his large glasses balanced perfectly on his narrow head. "Henry Robinson, how is your father doing?"
"Fine, but, Dr. Croft, I--."
"Are you here to disprove some argument I've had with your father about his biblical research?" Lara turned to Connie. "Every time I have a disagreement with Professor Robinson regarding some Bible passage, days later his son appears with someone's published thesis to prove the passage is historically accurate and authentic." She looked at the young man. "Okay, Henry, whose papers do you have for me to read to prove your father's point that there was more than one Ark of the Covenant made?"
His voice quivered, "Dr. Croft, I didn't come with any papers. I've been doing my own research on the Bible for my thesis, and that's what I am here about."
Curious, Lara sat down and motioned for him to sit. "Move that box off the chair, Henry, and then explain why you are here."
The box was positioned on a teetering crate. He sat, leaned forward, and glared. "Dr. Croft, I've been doing my own investigation on the Bible code, which was highly publicized in the past few weeks. You know, the hidden messages within the five books of the Torah, which are the first books of the Old Testament. I studied the mathematical matrices they used to decipher the code, which is based on the Equidistant Letter Sequence, or what I call ELS. From there I tried some different matrices and different sequences to line up the text in order to find any other hidden messages, or if there existed another code--."
Lara interrupted, "Henry, you are talking over my head! Get to the point!"
He swallowed hard and stuttered, "I-I found your name... in the hidden code of the Bible."
Her eyes gazed at him for half a minute, then at the ceiling. They darted to the left and the right as she said, "There must be some hidden camera in here recording my reaction."
"Dr. Croft, this is not a joke! I can show you my work!" he argued.
The phone was lifted and dialed. Voice mail responded, and she spoke, "Hello, Professor Robinson, this is Lara. I am leaving this message to let you know your little prank didn't work. Your son gave a valiant effort but wasn't convincing enough. Nice try, ha-ha. Talk to you later."
"My father doesn't know anything about this!" he stressed.
She smirked, "Henry, please. If anyone else came with this news, I would suspect him of using a meek vehicle to get close to me. My name in the Bible? Right. I seriously doubt it. What book and what chapter?"
A nervous twitch settled into Henry's hands. "No, no! You don't understand! It's embedded in a code! Next to a date, and something called the 'Lion of God'!"
"And what am I suppose to do with the 'Lion of God'?" Lara folded her arms.
"It doesn't explain anything, but the date written is for this month and this year!"
Her brow furrowed. "Am I suppose to find an artifact called the 'Lion of God'?"
He stammered, "No, you see that phrase also appears next to other names, including yours, but with different dates. It started with me inputting the names of the kings of England into the program's search mode and--."
Lara bolted up. "Okay, Henry, that's enough. Now you are equating me with royalty with this silly story. Tell your father you tried hard to pull off the prank. I was amused, but that was it. Now if you will please excuse me, I have to prepare for a trip to Athens."
He pleaded, "Dr. Croft, I am being totally honest! My father had nothing to do with this! Because of my uncovering your name with this month and year's date next to it, I thought it would be important enough to tell you, maybe even to warn you!"
"Warn me of what, Henry? From an artifact of doom, from a lion sent from God, or what? All you have provided is a mystery, and not a very good one. That's why I think it's a joke. From what I know it is inconceivable my name would appear in the Bible." She moved away from the desk. "Now, again, excuse me but I have to prepare for a trip."
Henry Robinson slouched and walked out of the office as if he was a rejected suitor.
Connie watched him exit the door. "I think you were rather hard on him," she said in a sympathetic tone.
"Connie, you don't realize the number of students, faculty members, and associates who have come through this office with stories similar to Henry's. They only want to be close enough for another purpose, which I don't have to explain. In the beginning I was gullible to a few of them, but not any more. Right now my concern is to get ready for the trip to Athens and to do a thorough job for Gavin's exploration."
Connie shrugged, "Okay. I guess you will be in contact by phone or e-mail?"
Lara nodded and grabbed her briefcase. "I'll send a postcard and pick up a souvenir for you."
"Can you make sure the souvenir is tall, dark, and handsome?"
A smile popped on Lara's face. She waved before leaving the office.
* * *
During her flight in first class, Lara settled into reading a few chapters of a novel until she decided to nap. Taking advantage of the empty seat next to her, she lifted the middle armrest out of the way, and laid her head on a pillow.
Twenty minutes into the nap, her body leapt out of the seat and startled a couple of passengers.
In a flash, the flight attendant rushed nearby to help. "Are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?"
Lara sat down. Her breathing was rapid, and a small glint of sweat appeared on her forehead.
"Miss, are you okay? Do you need a doctor?" The flight attendant sat in the vacant seat.
"A glass of water, please," Lara whispered.
The attendant left and returned with the water. The co-pilot trailed behind.
"Miss, is there anything we can do for you?" the co-pilot entreated.
"I just had a bad dream. The water will be enough, thank you." Lara wiped the sweat from her forehead. She eyed the co-pilot. "Shouldn't you be in the cockpit flying the plane?"
The co-pilot smiled and responded, "That's what pilots are for. I'm on a break, but in ten minutes we will be preparing to land. Please fasten your seat belt."
Lara sipped the water and pulled out a notebook from her bag. She wrote, 'I dreamt about the room again. After a pleasant dream of horseback riding and strolling through the barn, I had opened a barn door, and entered the room. It was large but did not remember seeing any walls. In the middle of the room was the silver table. It was empty and simple looking, with a smooth surface. As I approached and stood in front of it, my nerves sensed someone else was present. To my left was another person standing in front of a second silver table, facing the same direction. There appeared to be others behind me, but before my head could turn to look, the voice called my name. I became frightened, and froze where I stood. The voice continued and said, "Guilty! The punishment is death!" Two sets of strong hands grabbed my arms... then I awoke.'
Her lips nibbled on the end of the pen. After another sip of water, she closed the notebook, adjusted the seat, and viewed the clouds through the window.
* * *
Gavin Williams was raised in the same countryside as Lara. An accomplished skier, an expert scuba diver, and a great golfer, his six foot two inch frame rippled with muscles. Dressed in a polo shirt, khakis, and sneakers, his deep dark blue eyes scanned the passengers at the receiving gate. A hand brushed back his short brown hair. From his viewpoint he noticed someone waving behind the Customs counter. Attached to the hand was a familiar body wearing a light jacket and slacks. He grinned and waved. The person breezed through Customs, hurried the short distance between them, and tightly clung around his waist. They hugged and kissed.
"Gavin, it is so good to see you after all this time," Lara gushed.
"I was so afraid I would not recognize you, Lara," he confessed. "But I see you haven't changed, except for the long hair." His voice had a Roger Moore-type timbre, a deep melodic tone. Listening to his word annunciation would make even reading a phone book sound sexy.
Lara held him close, looked into his eyes, and wished the moment would not end. Her mind drifted to the first encounter with Gavin Williams.
When she was at the age of thirteen, the Croft family traveled to a Swiss ski resort for a vacation during a snowy winter. Lara's interest in going to Switzerland included nothing more than to shop, until a young handsome ski instructor appeared in the lobby of the resort. He was eighteen and a senior at a Swiss school.
Lara's heart fluttered and her skin warmed up. With a newfound boldness, she approached. "I want to learn how to ski," she demanded. "Can you teach me?"
A bit startled, he pointed to a desk. "Registration for beginner classes are over there. Just sign up in the next vacant spot."
Her anxiety climbed. "When does your class start?"
"The class begins at two, but all my classes are full. I think the next vacant spot is on Monday afternoon's class for the following week."
She pouted, "I don't want to wait that long! Can't I squeeze into your class today? I want to be very, very good at this, and I must start right away."
His head turned and his eyes measured the determination pressed on her face. He coaxed her towards the registration desk. A penciled line was added at the bottom of the afternoon class, and he asked, "What's your name?"
"Lara Croft," she smiled.
He faced her. "Are you related to Lord Henshingly Croft?"
Her eyes blinked, "He's my father."
Gavin laughed, "What a small world! We are almost neighbors! I'm from the same township, just a few houses from yours."
"Really?" Her smile grew wider.
He bent down close. "If you come a few minutes before class, I will fit a proper set of skis for you."
Lara nodded. A giggle escaped her lips as she skipped away.
During class she battled for Gavin's attention with a dozen older and prettier women. Their outfits proclaimed an obvious intention to lure the instructor closer to them, rather than learn how to ski.
Lara made up her mind to learn as much as she could, and Gavin noticed her efforts. Whenever she fell, he quickly appeared and encouraged her to keep trying.
"You're doing better than the others," he cheered before turning around to help another young woman who happened to fall nearby.
After the skiing session, he shushed next to Lara and asked, "Did you have fun?"
"Yes, I did. Could you teach me some more?"
He chuckled, "This is only the beginner's course. Another instructor teaches the next level on the far side of the slopes. Do you want to take that class?"
Her lips stated what the heart yearned for. "I want you to teach me." Her eyes locked and pleaded to his.
Gavin glanced at the girls nearby who waited to accompany him to the lodge. "Come a half hour before my next class and I will give you some extra tips. If you like these skis, then tell the equipment attendant that I told you to set them aside." He winked and scooted away.
Lara shook with excitement.
The remainder of the week Gavin spent extra time with Lara before the regular classes. Using patience and encouragement, he taught her how to ski.
At the end of the week, he complimented on her improvement. "You will be a professional skier before returning home. I can tell. You only fell twice on the last run."
"Are you a professional skier?" she inquired in an innocent tone.
"No, but I am going to try out for the Olympic team next year. I will be training all this year for it."
"I bet you will make the team and win a medal." Her cheeks turned red.
Gavin chuckled, and then said, "Can I ask a favor of you?"
The ears perked up and she nodded.
"Meet me in the lobby tomorrow morning between ten thirty and eleven. I need you to pretend to be my sister. Can you do that?"
"Sure," she answered. "But why?"
"You'll see when we meet," he smiled. "Remember, ten thirty. See you tomorrow."
The next day Lara was anxious and ate an early breakfast. The veiled excuse given to her parents, before leaving the suite, was to practice on the beginner's slope and spend the rest of the day at the ice rink. She arrived in the lobby at ten fifteen.
Gavin appeared five minutes later and grinned. "Thanks for being early," he whispered.
"So why do you want me to pretend to be your sister?"
"Shhh, here she comes. Don't say a word."
A platinum blonde, buxom woman approached them. Dressed in a body hugging ski suit, her curvaceous shape gave every male a neck strain. She wiggled up to Gavin, pursed her lips, and looked at Lara. "Who ez theez child?" Her eyebrows furrowed in anger.
"Mrs. Leopold, my sister is visiting me, and I promised to spend my day off with her. I know one of the other instructors would be more than happy to give you a private skiing lesson between their scheduled classes. Do you want me to arrange it?"
Furious, she disapproved, "No! I wanted you to teach me!"
Gavin glanced at Lara. "I-I can't leave my sister alone."
"Send her to ze moo-veez or arcade!"
"I can't do that! My family will call me irresponsible! My father would send for me on the next plane to England if I did that! I'm sorry but I cannot leave her alone."
The woman's frown appeared deep enough to cut into Lara's skin. Her cold hazel eyes glared. "But you zaid you had brotherz!"
"Older brothers! I didn't mention my goofy younger sister."
Lara's foot knocked against Gavin's ankle.
Displeased, Mrs. Leopold turned about and strode out of the lobby.
Gavin suppressed a smile and raised his eyebrows.
After a long silence, Lara asked, "Did she want to hurt me?"
He replied, "No, she wanted to hurt me, in more ways than one."
"Who was that woman?"
"A forty year old who thinks she is still in her twenties. The other instructors told me to avoid her if I wanted to keep my job."
"Oh, I see." Lara looked around. "Now what?"
"Well, that is it. You're free to do anything you want."
She pouted, "What if the woman sees you without me, or me without you?"
Gavin twisted his lips and thought. "Come on, let's go to the arcade and play some games while I think about this."
The arcade games led to a movie, back to the arcade, and then a toboggan ride on the slopes until early evening. Lara had a wonderful time, and the infatuation for Gavin began.
Weeks after the winter vacation, Lara pined for him. Months later when the weather became warmer her feelings intensified. A couple of times when riding in her father's car, she saw him walking the streets of London. Her heart leapt in excitement with the knowledge he was close by.
During the late summer days he rode a bicycle by the Croft mansion early in the mornings. When Lara found out, she would sneak outside after sunrise, stand by the gates, and watch Gavin ride by. A few times she waited while still in her silk nightgown.
One cool morning she nestled behind the gates and heard the familiar clatter of shifting gears. At a rise in the road, Gavin appeared, his lean body pumping the pedals. Approaching the gates, he saw her and waved.
"Good morning," he greeted and slowed down.
"Hi, Gavin! How are you?" she squeaked and smiled.
"In training! Got to go! Talk to you later!" and pedaled away.
That was enough for Lara to swoon over.
She implored her parents to return back to the ski resort on their next winter vacation. They complied, and the next four years their winter vacations were spent in the Swiss Alps. The times spent with Gavin were not as long when they first met, yet her infatuation did not diminish.
To further her education, Lara's parents suggested a Swiss finishing school. Lara took it as a sign her fate was meant to be with Gavin, and did not object to being sent there.
But Gavin no longer remained a resort ski instructor, and his whereabouts were vague. Rumors spread he dived for pearls in the Pacific Ocean.
In Lara's final year at the Swiss finishing school, a ski trip was planned to the Himalayas, and a few expert skiers applied to be a guide and instructor. During this time Lara was pressured by her parents to marry a well-respected aristocrat's son. In rebellion, she complained of not knowing the young man. After a heated argument with them by phone, she stepped outside for fresh air within the school's courtyard.
A gentleman, who was lacing his shoes behind a bush, stood up.
Lara froze, and then recognized the man. "Gavin Williams! What are you doing here?"
"I'm sorry, miss. I didn't mean to... why, it's Lara Croft! How are you?"
She walked closer and stared. "Fine, thank you. But what are you doing here?"
"I just had a meeting with the head schoolmaster about the final details of the Himalayan skiing trip. I'm going to be a guide and instructor."
"That's wonderful!" she smiled. "You could teach me some more skiing tips."
"Well, Lara, if you're really good enough, and have the courage, I can show you where some extreme skiing trails are. Would you like that?"
Her eyes sparkled, "Yes, I would love it!"
"Good," he grinned. "Then we have a date." Gavin waved and stepped to exit. "See you at the airport."
Lara waved and watched him leave through the gate. Her mind raced and believed another sign had occurred. 'Gavin has returned! I have another opportunity to be with him. But for how long? This trip will be the only time to say how much I have loved him. I must tell him! I have to confess my love to him, and I will do it on this trip!' Her fist clenched and punched the air.
On the day of departure, Gavin was not among the boarding passengers. A digestive ailment kept him in bed, but he promised to arrive as soon as possible. The news of the plane not landing at its destination moved the illness to his heart.
Months later, Lara returned home as the lone survivor from the horrible crash in the Himalayan mountains.
"Did you have a pleasant flight?" Gavin asked in a soft voice.
Lara shook the memory from her head and replied, "Uneventful, except when I slept."
"You will have to tell me about it later." He grabbed the bags and motioned to the exit. "The car is just a few meters beyond the door."
A gold ring on his left hand reflected the sunlight into Lara's eyes.
A heartstring broke within her and felt as if an arrow struck. Before she could acknowledge the pain, the words spilled out. "How long have you been married?"
"Almost two years," he answered. "Lisa is getting the boat ready. Your equipment was stored aboard. If the traffic is light and if we get to the pier before sunset, we have a good chance to start our voyage tonight."
"Great," she mustered a smile and followed.
The bags were stuffed into the trunk of a Mercedes Benz, and they climbed in. As soon as they were cleared from the airport traffic, their conversation started, which pertained to the project.
"So what makes you think ancient Egyptian ships were found?" she questioned in a voice slightly higher than the soft music on the radio.
"Truthfully, I don't know if they are Egyptian. They could be Roman, Greek, or Persian. There are a number of sunken vessels between Greece and Turkey, so I covered all avenues when I acquired permits to retrieve the buried items and approached different institutions for funding. The British Museum was more than anxious to have me do the work for them, especially after hearing what I did for the Americans in finding a few Spanish galleons off the coast of Key West. They were willing to fund a lot more money than any other institution I approached." He reached into his pocket. "Look! This is what I found from my last dive in the area."
Three gold coins dropped into her hand.
Lara examined them. "These are not Egyptian! They are shekels! Israeli currency! Gavin! How did you get funding without proper research? Did you show these coins to the British Museum?"
"It doesn't matter, Lara. The museum has been after me for a long time to work for them, almost the same time I began treasure hunting as a living instead of a hobby. They know me and know I produce results! I hate the bureaucracy in retrieving these treasures, the paper work and all. What I do is reiterate all the major finds I've done in the past seven years, and then finish by telling them I am good in what I do! I hate all the red tape in getting to a treasure. If it is there, then I want to get to it as quickly as possible."
"At times I feel exactly the same way," she muttered. "But what do you really expect to find? And what am I suppose to be doing?"
"You will do what you were hired to do. Record and categorize what we find."
Lara sighed and brushed back her hair. "Why do I feel like a pawn in someone else's chess game?"
* * *
An old man placed wreaths in a stacked mausoleum within a cemetery on the outskirts of Venice. His wrinkled hand ran across the nameplates of the new members added to the crypt. A handkerchief caught a lone tear and used to blow his nose. With heavy steps he walked to the doorway and viewed the acreage of crowded gravestones.
His driver waited outside.
"We go home now," the old man mumbled.
"Don Bartoli, Jimmy is waiting for you," the driver tilted his head towards the car.
"Let us see what he has to say."
Near the car, Jimmy wrung his hands. He approached when the old man and driver were a few meters away, took the aged hand, and kissed it. "My family sends their condolences on the deaths of your loved ones."
Don Bartoli placed a hand on Jimmy's cheek. "Graci, Jimmy. Your sentiments have touched my heart. But you are here for something else. Speak."
The young man bowed, "Don Bartoli, I am told a contract was placed on the woman who murdered your son and stole a priceless artifact from your family. The price was 1.5 million American dollars. If I could be so bold to ask what would be the price for the return of the stolen item?"
Don Bartoli's eyes examined the man's face. "Do you have it, Jimmy?"
"No, I do not. What I do know is the woman has left for Athens."
"You are the first to give me this useful information." The old man scratched his chin and thought for a second. "Payment will be an equal amount for the return of what was stolen." He placed a hand on Jimmy's shoulder. "You are like your father, Don Fezzini. Ambitious."
Jimmy clasped his hands. "Don Bartoli, allow my family to right this wrong done to you. To remove the shame fallen on your name and have it return to the level of respect it had always enjoyed. Give my family the blessing of your favor by allowing us to eliminate the enemies of the Bartoli family."
The old man searched into Jimmy's eyes as the words were said. A few seconds passed before he spoke. "This pleases me. You will have my favor and reward when you succeed in returning the dagger that was stolen from my family and for the death of Lara Croft."
Jimmy Fezzini bowed and kissed the old man's hand.
* * *
The Mercedes Benz parked near the pier where the exploration boat, The Cotillion, was berthed.
Gavin turned the car off and paused. "Lara, I need to say something." He gazed at the sunset and the red clouds. "When I heard about... about the plane crash in the Himalayas..." Silence fell within the car for a few seconds, and he swallowed. "I wept for days... right up to the day of the memorial services... and some time thereafter. My mind wondered why I was spared, and why not the others as well. I questioned, what twist of fate kept me from being on the plane?" He looked down. "The friends I lost in the crash made me depressed. My father tried to help, but during his efforts I decided not to follow my brothers in joining his law office. 'Life is too short,' I told him. 'I want to do what makes me happy.' From the expression on his face, I knew he felt hurt, but replied, 'Alright. Do whatever it is that makes you happy. But if it doesn't work out, you can always come back.'" He shifted. "I was on an exploration in the Mediterranean Sea when news of your return reached me. I was..." He paused and sniffled. "I was... happy. My father kept me informed. News clips were sent to me on how well you were doing. A week before I returned to England, my father reported you had left the Croft mansion. In a stint of boldness I called upon Lord Croft to ask of your whereabouts. He responded, 'My daughter is dead. Please do not call here again.'"
Lara's eyes closed. "I'm sorry that happened to you. My father and I had a disagreement on how my life should be lived--."
Gavin held up a hand. "Let me continue... Years later I read the magazine article of your discovery of Big Foot. Through the editors I found where you lived... and heard the rumors of a male companion living with you. With my own eyes I saw how happy you were with him, and... so... I submerged myself into explorations, at times with reckless abandon... until I met Lisa." His eyes drifted down. "What I wanted to say is... I had feelings for you back then, but wasn't man enough to admit it... until the plane crashed." He glanced at her. "I just wanted you to know that before we went on board." He leapt out of the car and retrieved the bags.
Lara's mouth was partially opened as she followed. Her desire was to respond to his confession, but replied with, "Gavin, please wait!"
He marched on the planks, climbed into the boat, and stomped his feet on the deck.
A few paces behind, Lara climbed in and watched. From her point of view someone hugged and kissed Gavin underneath the cabin overhang. The shadows obscured her face and form.
Gavin stepped into the light. "Lara, this is my wife, Lisa."
Lara mechanically raised her arm to greet her.
Lisa emerged into the light. Her eyebrows were raised, and mouth opened wide.
Lara's eyes grew large, and words raced to the edge to leap out.
They looked at each other as if into a mirror. Except for the short hair, Lisa was Lara's exact double. Astonished, and in unison, they gazed at Gavin, and then at each other in silent awe.
Lisa made some hand signals.
Gavin cleared his throat, "Lisa said you are beautiful."
Lara uttered, "Lisa is... deaf." It was a statement rather than a question.
Lisa placed a hand on Lara's elbow and motioned with the other to her mouth.
Gavin translated, "Lisa is the cook on our trip and wants to know if you're hungry. You could speak directly to her. She can read lips."
Lara patted her stomach. "Yes, thank you. I am famished."
Lisa nodded and smiled. She paused and glared at Gavin before entering the kitchen galley.
Three men appeared, greeted Gavin, and then stood still.
"Men, this is Dr. Lara Croft, the representative from the British Museum I told you who was joining us on this trip. She will categorize whatever we find out there. Lara, this is Adrian Konas, our instrument man and pilot."
The dark medium-built man extended a strong arm to Lara.
"This is Demetri Konas, our maintenance man and first mate. He is also known as 'Junior'."
The second dark medium-built man with the younger face extended a strong arm to Lara.
"Last, but not least, is my right hand man, jack of all trades and master of disaster, Timothy Shannon."
The tall lanky bearded man with the receding hairline smiled and bowed. "Just call me Tim."
Lara grinned, "Obviously you have a history with Gavin. When did you two meet?"
Tim stared in space. "It was... hmmm... when we were diving in the waters near Tonga, I believe."
"Wrong," Gavin corrected. "It was at a bar in the Philippines."
"Hey, man, I want to make our history as glamorous as possible."
Gavin laughed, "You can't change the past, Timmy-boy."
"Well, I can at least embellish the truth for the lady," Tim grinned. "Welcome aboard, Dr. Croft."
"Please call me Lara."
"It's going to be an interesting trip with you and Lisa aboard." Tim winked at Lara, then eyed Gavin.
Lara shifted uncomfortably and glanced away.
"Okay, everyone. Let's see what Lisa has for supper," Gavin stated.
The men nodded and marched down into the boat.
"One moment, Gavin," Lara tugged on his arm. "That was very awkward back then with Lisa. She must have felt the same way. What did you say about me to her?"
"I said we lived in the same neighborhood, how we met in the Swiss Alps, and you survived a plane crash."
"Did she really say I was beautiful?" Her eyes focused onto his.
Gavin avoided her gazed. "Let's go inside and eat. We can talk later."
* * *
Late in the evening in England, an overweight man entertained a guest at a nearby restaurant.
"Mr. Fezzini, we already sent men to her place and lost. She defended the house like a possessed woman with guns blazing. Two men escaped that night and are laying low. Inspectors from Scotland Yard are still combing the city for them. I don't see how more men could be sent there again. It's suicide." The droopy eyes of Johnny Golotti looked more painful than normal. The wrinkles increased after explaining his fears to his guest. He viewed his plate and yanked on the strands of spaghetti.
Jimmy Fezzini placed a hand on Golotti's wrist and chuckled, "First of all, Johnny, she is not there. She's on some trip to Athens. Second, I am not charging into her courtyard like the Bartolis did. I've got a plan to get inside the house, but I need to speak with those two guys who escaped."
After a furtive look around the dining room, Golotti leaned forward and whispered, "What's your plan?"
Fezzini released Golotti's wrist and sat back. "The less you know, the better. I have a general layout of the house's floor plan. There are some questions I want to ask to fill in the gaps." He reached for the fork and scooped up some spaghetti.
"So what are you going to do? Are you going in alone?" Golotti questioned through a mouthful of food.
"Let's say I've got an ace up my sleeve," Fezzini smiled and allowed tomato sauce to drip from his lip.
It started with three story ideas, none of them Tomb Raider related. When the character of Lara Croft made her debut and impacted all who played the Tomb Raider games, my mind began to wonder and asked, 'What if Lara became involved with...', well, the result is this story which was woven from the three different ideas. The main premise was to create a tale that gripped the heart, entertained the soul, and provoked the mind to think. I apologize if it is not as action packed as other fan fiction on the net, but I hope you find it as enjoyable. Thank you for reading it.
Acknowledgements:
I wish to thank the following proofreaders, beta-readers, and/or editors, for their contributions to this story: Judy Gardner, David McCall, Julia Ramos, Jennie Ramos, Carmen Ramos, and those who wish to remain anonymous. A special thank you goes to Heidi Ahlmen, for her sharp insight where clarifications were necessary.
Lara Croft/ Tomb Raider is a creation of Adrian Smith for Core Design and Eidos Interactive, and published by Top Cow Productions, Inc.
The characters and incidents featured in this story are fictional. Any similarities to persons living or dead are purely coincidental. To infringe or challenge the copyrights or trademarks of the above is not the intention of this author.
Gerry Ramos
SilverRope@aol.com
THE LION OF GOD
The bright morning sunlight blazed through the window and fell on the desk where Dr. Terry Anderson sat. The eraser end of a pencil drummed on his pad. He scratched his head above the ear, and tossed some long strands of hair over his bald top. "Dr. Croft, I can't see anything to be concerned about regarding these dreams you have told me. In my opinion there doesn't seem to be any real significance behind them." He rubbed his jaw. "Now if we tried a little bit of hypno-therapy, I could probe your memory for more details and find out if something was overlooked in order to explain them."
"No hypnotism, please." Lara let out a heavy sigh. "Doctor, aren't there books about dream analysis you can obtain for further research? These dreams have become quite bothersome for the past two weeks."
"Dr. Croft, you have explained some remarkable things about yourself, your archaeological profession and expeditions, which, in all seriousness, I find highly unbelievable. Rest assured, under the doctor-patient privilege, none of this will be retold to anyone." Dr. Anderson reclined in the chair. "First of all, dreams are generated from the subconscious and reflect inner fears and joys. They manifest themselves into pleasurable dreams or nightmares. Your two recurring dreams suggest an anxiety or guilt that has not been addressed, or second thoughts on a direction your life has taken. But my reasoning is just a broad conclusion from what you have told me."
Lara leaned forward. "What else could it be?"
His hand took the glasses off and an end was used to tap against his lip. "Let me repeat what you have said. You are asleep and dreaming normally... when eventually you find yourself in a room in front of a table--."
"A silver table," she added.
His pencil scratched a few more notes on the pad. "Standing in front of a silver table and you hear a voice call your name."
"I don't know who is speaking, but my name is clearly heard. The voice continues and proclaims I am guilty of the charges and my punishment is death. Two sets of hands grab my arms... then I would awake with my heart racing and my hands shaking." Lara clutched her hands until they were red. "It takes a while to settle down and return to sleep."
Dr. Anderson took in a deep breath. "The second occurs in the same fashion. You are dreaming normally... then find yourself on a road walking with a number of people. Everyone is walking or running in the same direction. At some point along the road, you look to the side and view the scenery."
"Yes... and a castle appears in the distance. For some curious reason, I want to investigate. A dirt path is spotted that seems to head towards the castle. But after a few steps a snake bites my ankle and I collapse to the ground in pain."
Dr. Anderson smirked, "Were you wearing boots?"
Lara paused in thought, and replied, "If I remembered correctly, I was barefoot, and wore tan shorts with a white tee shirt."
"Did you try to get up and walk?"
She shook her head. "I just remember holding onto my ankle and crying in pain. After that, I would wake up."
His hands folded. "The second dream was not as disturbing as the first, I gather."
"Yet a sense of loss was felt when I couldn't continue on the dirt path, even after I had awaken." Her eyes closed and a hand brushed her hair back. "What do you suggest I should do about these dreams?"
The pencil rapped against the pad. "Well, if it is anxiety, my suggestion is to take some vacation time and do something relaxing. Generally that should do it." He paused and gazed at her. "But if you find the dreams still occurring, I want you to keep these things in mind. Try to remember as much details as possible and write them down. For example, in the first dream, take a three hundred and sixty-degree look around the room. See if other people are there and describe them in detail. Find out who is talking to you and whose hands are grabbing you. What does the room look like and what are you wearing." His legs crossed. "Same thing in the second dream, try to notice who is walking next to you. How long is the path to the castle? What does the castle look like? What happens when you try to continue on the path after the snakebite? With more details we could pinpoint the source of your anxiety, and maybe these dreams will stop."
Perturbed, Lara replied, "Maybe? Doesn't sound very promising. I was hoping for a more definitive solution. My associates recommended you as a fine psychiatrist with their glowing reports, and all you can give me is a 'maybe'."
"Dr. Croft, this is going to take some time. If you want me to help, please allow the patience and consideration to do what is necessary. I cannot make any promises, and if you are unsatisfied with that statement, then you can choose another doctor from a list of therapists and I will gladly hand my notes over to him, or her, if that is what you decide to do."
Lara frowned and fidgeted in silence for a moment. "When do you want to meet again?"
"How does next week look to you?" Dr. Anderson glanced at his calendar.
"I will be away somewhere in the Mediterranean Sea for the next two weeks."
Surprised, he asked, "On a cruise?"
"No, as an assistant to a treasure hunter."
His hands opened. "Well, there's your vacation, or consider it a working vacation. What will you be doing?"
"The treasure hunter found some sunken Egyptian ships. He is on a quest to find one that carried a tribute of gold to the Roman Empire. My job is to authenticate and record any artifacts discovered."
Dr. Anderson grinned, "Sounds exciting, and a good opportunity for you to squeeze in some relaxation time. Call my secretary when you get back to arrange another appointment." He looked at his watch. "Well, your time is up. Have a good two weeks, Dr. Croft, and I will see you when you return." He politely shook her hand and escorted her to the door.
* * *
A yellow sign hung on the door to Lara's office at the British Museum. It read, 'Under Construction - Enter at Your Own Risk'. Beyond her assistant's desk, and within her partitioned area of the room, Lara shuttled between a stack of folders near a filing cabinet and a tower of unkempt papers on her desk. A narrow passage through opened boxes and crates led to her chair. She moved a small trinket from the seat, placed it on a crowded table of artifacts, and began to sort her mail and messages by priority level. The important ones were replied by e-mail, voice mail, or inter-office memos. All others were placed in a stuffed 'hold' bin for later correspondence.
She glanced at the time and shouted, "Connie, did you get verification of delivery from the shipping company you used to send my equipment to Gavin Williams' villa?"
Connie poked her head in between the partition walls. "Just came over the fax. One less thing to worry about. Now you could breeze through customs without sounding any alarms."
Lara winked, "Good work, Connie. Well, my flight is scheduled to leave in three hours. Do I have everything I need?"
Connie checked a list. "Tickets?"
Lara patted the briefcase. "Right next to my laptop."
"Suntan lotion?"
"This is not that kind of trip where I will be lounging in the sun," Lara half-smiled.
"But you will be outdoors."
Lara stared at her like a young child to a mother. "You are soooo practical, Connie."
"That's why I lasted longer than your other secretaries," Connie emphasized.
"I will pick up a bottle at the airport. Anything else?"
Connie turned away and then looked back. "There is a young man waiting here. He wants to speak with you."
"Who is it?"
"He told me he is a graduate student and an assistant to Professor Robinson," Connie shrugged. "He said you would know."
Lara rolled her eyes and spoke, "Come in, Henry."
A thin, gangling young man marched in. He appeared twenty-four years old and under-nourished. Without any graceful acknowledgement, he stepped past Connie and blurted, "Dr. Croft, I need to speak with you."
Lara eyed him and marveled that his large glasses balanced perfectly on his narrow head. "Henry Robinson, how is your father doing?"
"Fine, but, Dr. Croft, I--."
"Are you here to disprove some argument I've had with your father about his biblical research?" Lara turned to Connie. "Every time I have a disagreement with Professor Robinson regarding some Bible passage, days later his son appears with someone's published thesis to prove the passage is historically accurate and authentic." She looked at the young man. "Okay, Henry, whose papers do you have for me to read to prove your father's point that there was more than one Ark of the Covenant made?"
His voice quivered, "Dr. Croft, I didn't come with any papers. I've been doing my own research on the Bible for my thesis, and that's what I am here about."
Curious, Lara sat down and motioned for him to sit. "Move that box off the chair, Henry, and then explain why you are here."
The box was positioned on a teetering crate. He sat, leaned forward, and glared. "Dr. Croft, I've been doing my own investigation on the Bible code, which was highly publicized in the past few weeks. You know, the hidden messages within the five books of the Torah, which are the first books of the Old Testament. I studied the mathematical matrices they used to decipher the code, which is based on the Equidistant Letter Sequence, or what I call ELS. From there I tried some different matrices and different sequences to line up the text in order to find any other hidden messages, or if there existed another code--."
Lara interrupted, "Henry, you are talking over my head! Get to the point!"
He swallowed hard and stuttered, "I-I found your name... in the hidden code of the Bible."
Her eyes gazed at him for half a minute, then at the ceiling. They darted to the left and the right as she said, "There must be some hidden camera in here recording my reaction."
"Dr. Croft, this is not a joke! I can show you my work!" he argued.
The phone was lifted and dialed. Voice mail responded, and she spoke, "Hello, Professor Robinson, this is Lara. I am leaving this message to let you know your little prank didn't work. Your son gave a valiant effort but wasn't convincing enough. Nice try, ha-ha. Talk to you later."
"My father doesn't know anything about this!" he stressed.
She smirked, "Henry, please. If anyone else came with this news, I would suspect him of using a meek vehicle to get close to me. My name in the Bible? Right. I seriously doubt it. What book and what chapter?"
A nervous twitch settled into Henry's hands. "No, no! You don't understand! It's embedded in a code! Next to a date, and something called the 'Lion of God'!"
"And what am I suppose to do with the 'Lion of God'?" Lara folded her arms.
"It doesn't explain anything, but the date written is for this month and this year!"
Her brow furrowed. "Am I suppose to find an artifact called the 'Lion of God'?"
He stammered, "No, you see that phrase also appears next to other names, including yours, but with different dates. It started with me inputting the names of the kings of England into the program's search mode and--."
Lara bolted up. "Okay, Henry, that's enough. Now you are equating me with royalty with this silly story. Tell your father you tried hard to pull off the prank. I was amused, but that was it. Now if you will please excuse me, I have to prepare for a trip to Athens."
He pleaded, "Dr. Croft, I am being totally honest! My father had nothing to do with this! Because of my uncovering your name with this month and year's date next to it, I thought it would be important enough to tell you, maybe even to warn you!"
"Warn me of what, Henry? From an artifact of doom, from a lion sent from God, or what? All you have provided is a mystery, and not a very good one. That's why I think it's a joke. From what I know it is inconceivable my name would appear in the Bible." She moved away from the desk. "Now, again, excuse me but I have to prepare for a trip."
Henry Robinson slouched and walked out of the office as if he was a rejected suitor.
Connie watched him exit the door. "I think you were rather hard on him," she said in a sympathetic tone.
"Connie, you don't realize the number of students, faculty members, and associates who have come through this office with stories similar to Henry's. They only want to be close enough for another purpose, which I don't have to explain. In the beginning I was gullible to a few of them, but not any more. Right now my concern is to get ready for the trip to Athens and to do a thorough job for Gavin's exploration."
Connie shrugged, "Okay. I guess you will be in contact by phone or e-mail?"
Lara nodded and grabbed her briefcase. "I'll send a postcard and pick up a souvenir for you."
"Can you make sure the souvenir is tall, dark, and handsome?"
A smile popped on Lara's face. She waved before leaving the office.
* * *
During her flight in first class, Lara settled into reading a few chapters of a novel until she decided to nap. Taking advantage of the empty seat next to her, she lifted the middle armrest out of the way, and laid her head on a pillow.
Twenty minutes into the nap, her body leapt out of the seat and startled a couple of passengers.
In a flash, the flight attendant rushed nearby to help. "Are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?"
Lara sat down. Her breathing was rapid, and a small glint of sweat appeared on her forehead.
"Miss, are you okay? Do you need a doctor?" The flight attendant sat in the vacant seat.
"A glass of water, please," Lara whispered.
The attendant left and returned with the water. The co-pilot trailed behind.
"Miss, is there anything we can do for you?" the co-pilot entreated.
"I just had a bad dream. The water will be enough, thank you." Lara wiped the sweat from her forehead. She eyed the co-pilot. "Shouldn't you be in the cockpit flying the plane?"
The co-pilot smiled and responded, "That's what pilots are for. I'm on a break, but in ten minutes we will be preparing to land. Please fasten your seat belt."
Lara sipped the water and pulled out a notebook from her bag. She wrote, 'I dreamt about the room again. After a pleasant dream of horseback riding and strolling through the barn, I had opened a barn door, and entered the room. It was large but did not remember seeing any walls. In the middle of the room was the silver table. It was empty and simple looking, with a smooth surface. As I approached and stood in front of it, my nerves sensed someone else was present. To my left was another person standing in front of a second silver table, facing the same direction. There appeared to be others behind me, but before my head could turn to look, the voice called my name. I became frightened, and froze where I stood. The voice continued and said, "Guilty! The punishment is death!" Two sets of strong hands grabbed my arms... then I awoke.'
Her lips nibbled on the end of the pen. After another sip of water, she closed the notebook, adjusted the seat, and viewed the clouds through the window.
* * *
Gavin Williams was raised in the same countryside as Lara. An accomplished skier, an expert scuba diver, and a great golfer, his six foot two inch frame rippled with muscles. Dressed in a polo shirt, khakis, and sneakers, his deep dark blue eyes scanned the passengers at the receiving gate. A hand brushed back his short brown hair. From his viewpoint he noticed someone waving behind the Customs counter. Attached to the hand was a familiar body wearing a light jacket and slacks. He grinned and waved. The person breezed through Customs, hurried the short distance between them, and tightly clung around his waist. They hugged and kissed.
"Gavin, it is so good to see you after all this time," Lara gushed.
"I was so afraid I would not recognize you, Lara," he confessed. "But I see you haven't changed, except for the long hair." His voice had a Roger Moore-type timbre, a deep melodic tone. Listening to his word annunciation would make even reading a phone book sound sexy.
Lara held him close, looked into his eyes, and wished the moment would not end. Her mind drifted to the first encounter with Gavin Williams.
When she was at the age of thirteen, the Croft family traveled to a Swiss ski resort for a vacation during a snowy winter. Lara's interest in going to Switzerland included nothing more than to shop, until a young handsome ski instructor appeared in the lobby of the resort. He was eighteen and a senior at a Swiss school.
Lara's heart fluttered and her skin warmed up. With a newfound boldness, she approached. "I want to learn how to ski," she demanded. "Can you teach me?"
A bit startled, he pointed to a desk. "Registration for beginner classes are over there. Just sign up in the next vacant spot."
Her anxiety climbed. "When does your class start?"
"The class begins at two, but all my classes are full. I think the next vacant spot is on Monday afternoon's class for the following week."
She pouted, "I don't want to wait that long! Can't I squeeze into your class today? I want to be very, very good at this, and I must start right away."
His head turned and his eyes measured the determination pressed on her face. He coaxed her towards the registration desk. A penciled line was added at the bottom of the afternoon class, and he asked, "What's your name?"
"Lara Croft," she smiled.
He faced her. "Are you related to Lord Henshingly Croft?"
Her eyes blinked, "He's my father."
Gavin laughed, "What a small world! We are almost neighbors! I'm from the same township, just a few houses from yours."
"Really?" Her smile grew wider.
He bent down close. "If you come a few minutes before class, I will fit a proper set of skis for you."
Lara nodded. A giggle escaped her lips as she skipped away.
During class she battled for Gavin's attention with a dozen older and prettier women. Their outfits proclaimed an obvious intention to lure the instructor closer to them, rather than learn how to ski.
Lara made up her mind to learn as much as she could, and Gavin noticed her efforts. Whenever she fell, he quickly appeared and encouraged her to keep trying.
"You're doing better than the others," he cheered before turning around to help another young woman who happened to fall nearby.
After the skiing session, he shushed next to Lara and asked, "Did you have fun?"
"Yes, I did. Could you teach me some more?"
He chuckled, "This is only the beginner's course. Another instructor teaches the next level on the far side of the slopes. Do you want to take that class?"
Her lips stated what the heart yearned for. "I want you to teach me." Her eyes locked and pleaded to his.
Gavin glanced at the girls nearby who waited to accompany him to the lodge. "Come a half hour before my next class and I will give you some extra tips. If you like these skis, then tell the equipment attendant that I told you to set them aside." He winked and scooted away.
Lara shook with excitement.
The remainder of the week Gavin spent extra time with Lara before the regular classes. Using patience and encouragement, he taught her how to ski.
At the end of the week, he complimented on her improvement. "You will be a professional skier before returning home. I can tell. You only fell twice on the last run."
"Are you a professional skier?" she inquired in an innocent tone.
"No, but I am going to try out for the Olympic team next year. I will be training all this year for it."
"I bet you will make the team and win a medal." Her cheeks turned red.
Gavin chuckled, and then said, "Can I ask a favor of you?"
The ears perked up and she nodded.
"Meet me in the lobby tomorrow morning between ten thirty and eleven. I need you to pretend to be my sister. Can you do that?"
"Sure," she answered. "But why?"
"You'll see when we meet," he smiled. "Remember, ten thirty. See you tomorrow."
The next day Lara was anxious and ate an early breakfast. The veiled excuse given to her parents, before leaving the suite, was to practice on the beginner's slope and spend the rest of the day at the ice rink. She arrived in the lobby at ten fifteen.
Gavin appeared five minutes later and grinned. "Thanks for being early," he whispered.
"So why do you want me to pretend to be your sister?"
"Shhh, here she comes. Don't say a word."
A platinum blonde, buxom woman approached them. Dressed in a body hugging ski suit, her curvaceous shape gave every male a neck strain. She wiggled up to Gavin, pursed her lips, and looked at Lara. "Who ez theez child?" Her eyebrows furrowed in anger.
"Mrs. Leopold, my sister is visiting me, and I promised to spend my day off with her. I know one of the other instructors would be more than happy to give you a private skiing lesson between their scheduled classes. Do you want me to arrange it?"
Furious, she disapproved, "No! I wanted you to teach me!"
Gavin glanced at Lara. "I-I can't leave my sister alone."
"Send her to ze moo-veez or arcade!"
"I can't do that! My family will call me irresponsible! My father would send for me on the next plane to England if I did that! I'm sorry but I cannot leave her alone."
The woman's frown appeared deep enough to cut into Lara's skin. Her cold hazel eyes glared. "But you zaid you had brotherz!"
"Older brothers! I didn't mention my goofy younger sister."
Lara's foot knocked against Gavin's ankle.
Displeased, Mrs. Leopold turned about and strode out of the lobby.
Gavin suppressed a smile and raised his eyebrows.
After a long silence, Lara asked, "Did she want to hurt me?"
He replied, "No, she wanted to hurt me, in more ways than one."
"Who was that woman?"
"A forty year old who thinks she is still in her twenties. The other instructors told me to avoid her if I wanted to keep my job."
"Oh, I see." Lara looked around. "Now what?"
"Well, that is it. You're free to do anything you want."
She pouted, "What if the woman sees you without me, or me without you?"
Gavin twisted his lips and thought. "Come on, let's go to the arcade and play some games while I think about this."
The arcade games led to a movie, back to the arcade, and then a toboggan ride on the slopes until early evening. Lara had a wonderful time, and the infatuation for Gavin began.
Weeks after the winter vacation, Lara pined for him. Months later when the weather became warmer her feelings intensified. A couple of times when riding in her father's car, she saw him walking the streets of London. Her heart leapt in excitement with the knowledge he was close by.
During the late summer days he rode a bicycle by the Croft mansion early in the mornings. When Lara found out, she would sneak outside after sunrise, stand by the gates, and watch Gavin ride by. A few times she waited while still in her silk nightgown.
One cool morning she nestled behind the gates and heard the familiar clatter of shifting gears. At a rise in the road, Gavin appeared, his lean body pumping the pedals. Approaching the gates, he saw her and waved.
"Good morning," he greeted and slowed down.
"Hi, Gavin! How are you?" she squeaked and smiled.
"In training! Got to go! Talk to you later!" and pedaled away.
That was enough for Lara to swoon over.
She implored her parents to return back to the ski resort on their next winter vacation. They complied, and the next four years their winter vacations were spent in the Swiss Alps. The times spent with Gavin were not as long when they first met, yet her infatuation did not diminish.
To further her education, Lara's parents suggested a Swiss finishing school. Lara took it as a sign her fate was meant to be with Gavin, and did not object to being sent there.
But Gavin no longer remained a resort ski instructor, and his whereabouts were vague. Rumors spread he dived for pearls in the Pacific Ocean.
In Lara's final year at the Swiss finishing school, a ski trip was planned to the Himalayas, and a few expert skiers applied to be a guide and instructor. During this time Lara was pressured by her parents to marry a well-respected aristocrat's son. In rebellion, she complained of not knowing the young man. After a heated argument with them by phone, she stepped outside for fresh air within the school's courtyard.
A gentleman, who was lacing his shoes behind a bush, stood up.
Lara froze, and then recognized the man. "Gavin Williams! What are you doing here?"
"I'm sorry, miss. I didn't mean to... why, it's Lara Croft! How are you?"
She walked closer and stared. "Fine, thank you. But what are you doing here?"
"I just had a meeting with the head schoolmaster about the final details of the Himalayan skiing trip. I'm going to be a guide and instructor."
"That's wonderful!" she smiled. "You could teach me some more skiing tips."
"Well, Lara, if you're really good enough, and have the courage, I can show you where some extreme skiing trails are. Would you like that?"
Her eyes sparkled, "Yes, I would love it!"
"Good," he grinned. "Then we have a date." Gavin waved and stepped to exit. "See you at the airport."
Lara waved and watched him leave through the gate. Her mind raced and believed another sign had occurred. 'Gavin has returned! I have another opportunity to be with him. But for how long? This trip will be the only time to say how much I have loved him. I must tell him! I have to confess my love to him, and I will do it on this trip!' Her fist clenched and punched the air.
On the day of departure, Gavin was not among the boarding passengers. A digestive ailment kept him in bed, but he promised to arrive as soon as possible. The news of the plane not landing at its destination moved the illness to his heart.
Months later, Lara returned home as the lone survivor from the horrible crash in the Himalayan mountains.
"Did you have a pleasant flight?" Gavin asked in a soft voice.
Lara shook the memory from her head and replied, "Uneventful, except when I slept."
"You will have to tell me about it later." He grabbed the bags and motioned to the exit. "The car is just a few meters beyond the door."
A gold ring on his left hand reflected the sunlight into Lara's eyes.
A heartstring broke within her and felt as if an arrow struck. Before she could acknowledge the pain, the words spilled out. "How long have you been married?"
"Almost two years," he answered. "Lisa is getting the boat ready. Your equipment was stored aboard. If the traffic is light and if we get to the pier before sunset, we have a good chance to start our voyage tonight."
"Great," she mustered a smile and followed.
The bags were stuffed into the trunk of a Mercedes Benz, and they climbed in. As soon as they were cleared from the airport traffic, their conversation started, which pertained to the project.
"So what makes you think ancient Egyptian ships were found?" she questioned in a voice slightly higher than the soft music on the radio.
"Truthfully, I don't know if they are Egyptian. They could be Roman, Greek, or Persian. There are a number of sunken vessels between Greece and Turkey, so I covered all avenues when I acquired permits to retrieve the buried items and approached different institutions for funding. The British Museum was more than anxious to have me do the work for them, especially after hearing what I did for the Americans in finding a few Spanish galleons off the coast of Key West. They were willing to fund a lot more money than any other institution I approached." He reached into his pocket. "Look! This is what I found from my last dive in the area."
Three gold coins dropped into her hand.
Lara examined them. "These are not Egyptian! They are shekels! Israeli currency! Gavin! How did you get funding without proper research? Did you show these coins to the British Museum?"
"It doesn't matter, Lara. The museum has been after me for a long time to work for them, almost the same time I began treasure hunting as a living instead of a hobby. They know me and know I produce results! I hate the bureaucracy in retrieving these treasures, the paper work and all. What I do is reiterate all the major finds I've done in the past seven years, and then finish by telling them I am good in what I do! I hate all the red tape in getting to a treasure. If it is there, then I want to get to it as quickly as possible."
"At times I feel exactly the same way," she muttered. "But what do you really expect to find? And what am I suppose to be doing?"
"You will do what you were hired to do. Record and categorize what we find."
Lara sighed and brushed back her hair. "Why do I feel like a pawn in someone else's chess game?"
* * *
An old man placed wreaths in a stacked mausoleum within a cemetery on the outskirts of Venice. His wrinkled hand ran across the nameplates of the new members added to the crypt. A handkerchief caught a lone tear and used to blow his nose. With heavy steps he walked to the doorway and viewed the acreage of crowded gravestones.
His driver waited outside.
"We go home now," the old man mumbled.
"Don Bartoli, Jimmy is waiting for you," the driver tilted his head towards the car.
"Let us see what he has to say."
Near the car, Jimmy wrung his hands. He approached when the old man and driver were a few meters away, took the aged hand, and kissed it. "My family sends their condolences on the deaths of your loved ones."
Don Bartoli placed a hand on Jimmy's cheek. "Graci, Jimmy. Your sentiments have touched my heart. But you are here for something else. Speak."
The young man bowed, "Don Bartoli, I am told a contract was placed on the woman who murdered your son and stole a priceless artifact from your family. The price was 1.5 million American dollars. If I could be so bold to ask what would be the price for the return of the stolen item?"
Don Bartoli's eyes examined the man's face. "Do you have it, Jimmy?"
"No, I do not. What I do know is the woman has left for Athens."
"You are the first to give me this useful information." The old man scratched his chin and thought for a second. "Payment will be an equal amount for the return of what was stolen." He placed a hand on Jimmy's shoulder. "You are like your father, Don Fezzini. Ambitious."
Jimmy clasped his hands. "Don Bartoli, allow my family to right this wrong done to you. To remove the shame fallen on your name and have it return to the level of respect it had always enjoyed. Give my family the blessing of your favor by allowing us to eliminate the enemies of the Bartoli family."
The old man searched into Jimmy's eyes as the words were said. A few seconds passed before he spoke. "This pleases me. You will have my favor and reward when you succeed in returning the dagger that was stolen from my family and for the death of Lara Croft."
Jimmy Fezzini bowed and kissed the old man's hand.
* * *
The Mercedes Benz parked near the pier where the exploration boat, The Cotillion, was berthed.
Gavin turned the car off and paused. "Lara, I need to say something." He gazed at the sunset and the red clouds. "When I heard about... about the plane crash in the Himalayas..." Silence fell within the car for a few seconds, and he swallowed. "I wept for days... right up to the day of the memorial services... and some time thereafter. My mind wondered why I was spared, and why not the others as well. I questioned, what twist of fate kept me from being on the plane?" He looked down. "The friends I lost in the crash made me depressed. My father tried to help, but during his efforts I decided not to follow my brothers in joining his law office. 'Life is too short,' I told him. 'I want to do what makes me happy.' From the expression on his face, I knew he felt hurt, but replied, 'Alright. Do whatever it is that makes you happy. But if it doesn't work out, you can always come back.'" He shifted. "I was on an exploration in the Mediterranean Sea when news of your return reached me. I was..." He paused and sniffled. "I was... happy. My father kept me informed. News clips were sent to me on how well you were doing. A week before I returned to England, my father reported you had left the Croft mansion. In a stint of boldness I called upon Lord Croft to ask of your whereabouts. He responded, 'My daughter is dead. Please do not call here again.'"
Lara's eyes closed. "I'm sorry that happened to you. My father and I had a disagreement on how my life should be lived--."
Gavin held up a hand. "Let me continue... Years later I read the magazine article of your discovery of Big Foot. Through the editors I found where you lived... and heard the rumors of a male companion living with you. With my own eyes I saw how happy you were with him, and... so... I submerged myself into explorations, at times with reckless abandon... until I met Lisa." His eyes drifted down. "What I wanted to say is... I had feelings for you back then, but wasn't man enough to admit it... until the plane crashed." He glanced at her. "I just wanted you to know that before we went on board." He leapt out of the car and retrieved the bags.
Lara's mouth was partially opened as she followed. Her desire was to respond to his confession, but replied with, "Gavin, please wait!"
He marched on the planks, climbed into the boat, and stomped his feet on the deck.
A few paces behind, Lara climbed in and watched. From her point of view someone hugged and kissed Gavin underneath the cabin overhang. The shadows obscured her face and form.
Gavin stepped into the light. "Lara, this is my wife, Lisa."
Lara mechanically raised her arm to greet her.
Lisa emerged into the light. Her eyebrows were raised, and mouth opened wide.
Lara's eyes grew large, and words raced to the edge to leap out.
They looked at each other as if into a mirror. Except for the short hair, Lisa was Lara's exact double. Astonished, and in unison, they gazed at Gavin, and then at each other in silent awe.
Lisa made some hand signals.
Gavin cleared his throat, "Lisa said you are beautiful."
Lara uttered, "Lisa is... deaf." It was a statement rather than a question.
Lisa placed a hand on Lara's elbow and motioned with the other to her mouth.
Gavin translated, "Lisa is the cook on our trip and wants to know if you're hungry. You could speak directly to her. She can read lips."
Lara patted her stomach. "Yes, thank you. I am famished."
Lisa nodded and smiled. She paused and glared at Gavin before entering the kitchen galley.
Three men appeared, greeted Gavin, and then stood still.
"Men, this is Dr. Lara Croft, the representative from the British Museum I told you who was joining us on this trip. She will categorize whatever we find out there. Lara, this is Adrian Konas, our instrument man and pilot."
The dark medium-built man extended a strong arm to Lara.
"This is Demetri Konas, our maintenance man and first mate. He is also known as 'Junior'."
The second dark medium-built man with the younger face extended a strong arm to Lara.
"Last, but not least, is my right hand man, jack of all trades and master of disaster, Timothy Shannon."
The tall lanky bearded man with the receding hairline smiled and bowed. "Just call me Tim."
Lara grinned, "Obviously you have a history with Gavin. When did you two meet?"
Tim stared in space. "It was... hmmm... when we were diving in the waters near Tonga, I believe."
"Wrong," Gavin corrected. "It was at a bar in the Philippines."
"Hey, man, I want to make our history as glamorous as possible."
Gavin laughed, "You can't change the past, Timmy-boy."
"Well, I can at least embellish the truth for the lady," Tim grinned. "Welcome aboard, Dr. Croft."
"Please call me Lara."
"It's going to be an interesting trip with you and Lisa aboard." Tim winked at Lara, then eyed Gavin.
Lara shifted uncomfortably and glanced away.
"Okay, everyone. Let's see what Lisa has for supper," Gavin stated.
The men nodded and marched down into the boat.
"One moment, Gavin," Lara tugged on his arm. "That was very awkward back then with Lisa. She must have felt the same way. What did you say about me to her?"
"I said we lived in the same neighborhood, how we met in the Swiss Alps, and you survived a plane crash."
"Did she really say I was beautiful?" Her eyes focused onto his.
Gavin avoided her gazed. "Let's go inside and eat. We can talk later."
* * *
Late in the evening in England, an overweight man entertained a guest at a nearby restaurant.
"Mr. Fezzini, we already sent men to her place and lost. She defended the house like a possessed woman with guns blazing. Two men escaped that night and are laying low. Inspectors from Scotland Yard are still combing the city for them. I don't see how more men could be sent there again. It's suicide." The droopy eyes of Johnny Golotti looked more painful than normal. The wrinkles increased after explaining his fears to his guest. He viewed his plate and yanked on the strands of spaghetti.
Jimmy Fezzini placed a hand on Golotti's wrist and chuckled, "First of all, Johnny, she is not there. She's on some trip to Athens. Second, I am not charging into her courtyard like the Bartolis did. I've got a plan to get inside the house, but I need to speak with those two guys who escaped."
After a furtive look around the dining room, Golotti leaned forward and whispered, "What's your plan?"
Fezzini released Golotti's wrist and sat back. "The less you know, the better. I have a general layout of the house's floor plan. There are some questions I want to ask to fill in the gaps." He reached for the fork and scooped up some spaghetti.
"So what are you going to do? Are you going in alone?" Golotti questioned through a mouthful of food.
"Let's say I've got an ace up my sleeve," Fezzini smiled and allowed tomato sauce to drip from his lip.
