The evening was still warm as I crossed the street to Pierre's apartment.
The sun had already gone down, but there were still a few traces of light
in the sky. I glanced up at the building in front of me, and noticed
Pierre's light was on. And thanks to Jon he was probably warned I was
coming.
I grinned coldly. I would deal with Jon later. One of my weaknesses is that I am a woman who holds grudges. I don't forgive people easily when they betray me. And that is what Jon had done.
Stairs led there way up the side of the apartments, but I knew Pierre would be watching them. He may be a deceitful, ruthless bastard, but he wasn't stupid. The only other way up I could see was climbing the walls, and I couldn't do that without a rope.
I frowned and wandered around to the back of the building. I wasn't going to give up - not when I was so close. I would go up the stairs if I had to . . .
But I wouldn't have to do that. I smiled when I saw the large tree overshadowing the building. The tree wasn't hard to climb, not after climbing some of the things I had. It only took me a few minutes to be crouched on a broad branch, level with the back balcony of Pierre's apartment. I watched for a moment, but could see no movement inside.
I grinned and edged forward, right to the end of the branch. The end of the branch was about a meter away from the balcony railing, a fact that Pierre would have thought prevented anyone from getting in that way. He was naïve like that.
I gauged the distance carefully and then retreated once again. Carefully standing up, so I would not bang my head on the surrounding branches, I sprinted forward, jumping from the end of the branch at the last minute, and grabbing the railing of the balcony with a soft grunt. I quickly swung myself up and over, landing in a crouch with my guns in my hands. Now was not the time to take stupid chances.
I ducked back into the shadows of the building, and listen carefully. There were no sounds out of the ordinary, but I was cautious just the same. I holstered my guns, and walked over to the back door. I was immediately suspicious when the door swung open to my touch. I grabbed my guns and slipped inside as quietly as I could.
I stifled a gasp when I saw what was inside. Two large bodies littered the floor, bullet holes decorating their chests and blood pooling beneath them. Papers and books were scattered on the floor, and the furniture had been completely smashed. I crept forward, through the lounge room, and down the hall into Pierre's bedroom.
The sight in here was even worse than the lounge room. Another body lay in the doorway, his blood staining the carpet. Inside the room, the bed had been turned upside-down, the curtains had been pulled from the windows and the wardrobe had been smashed in. I walked towards it, and found Pierre's safe inside, its door blown off. There was nothing left inside it. Whoever it was who had done this now had the Philosopher's Stone.
I walked around to the other side of the bed to see if I could find any trace of Pierre, and found his body. His eyes were closed, and a blood covered his chest. I closed my eyes for a minute, before bending down and checking his pulse. He was still alive, but barely. A gun was still clasped in his hand.
There was nothing else for me to do here, so I returned to the balcony and climbed onto the railing. I leapt back into the tree, landing on a lower branch and quickly scrambling down to the ground. I made my way back to my own apartment, stopping only to briefly call the police.
I carefully unlocked the door of my apartment and slipped inside. I drew my guns, and flipped on the light, but no one was there. I checked all the rooms just to be sure. When I was I holstered my guns and sank down onto the couch, and put my head in my hands. Whoever had broken into Pierre's apartment had really wanted to get there hands on the Philosopher's Stone.
I knew of only two other people who wanted to get there hands on it. Larson and Jon. Larson was too stupid to organize something like that. And I doubted he was working for anyone else. Pierre would have made sure of that. But I could not believe Jon was responsible for it either. It was true that Jon had wanted to give the Philosopher's Stone back to Italy, but he believed in letting people give them back, not stealing them. Unless he had changed . . .
The phone rang, startling me out of my thoughts. I picked it up. "Pronto?" I greeted in Italian.
"Lara Croft. It's an honor." Said a voice.
I was instantly wary. "Who are you?"
"Now, now. That would make it too easy." The voice replied. "I saw you today, Lara." The voice continued. "Breaking and entering is a crime, you know."
I stilled. "What do you want?" I asked.
"Your assurance that you will not come after me. That you will leave the Philosopher's Stone alone."
"No." I said. "That I will not give."
"Even if you condemn a close friend of yours to a painful and prolonged death?"
His reasonable tone sent shivers down my spine. "Do you not believe me, Lara?" he asked. "I did not think you would."
There was a faint clink and someone else came onto the line. "Hello Lara." Said a familiar voice, laced with fear.
"Jon." I said.
"Yes. Jon." The unknown voice repeated.
There was a muffled shout and another soft click. "Unless you want your friend to die, you will stay out of this."
I took a deep breath and shut my eyes. Jon. I was angry with him yes, but I didn't want him to die. Not after . . .
I opened my eyes and ruthlessly stopped my thoughts. Taking a deep breath, I prayed Jon would live long enough to forgive me for this. "I'm sorry." I said. "But I cannot promise anything."
"You will condemn your friend to death? Your lover?"
"He is not my lover." I said coldly.
"But he once was, wasn't he, Lara?"
"He betrayed me." I said, refusing to be drawn into his game more than I already was. "I don't care whether he lives or dies."
"You are either a very cold woman, Lara Croft, or you are willing to risk much to gain the Philosopher's Stone." The man chuckled. "I think I would very much like to meet you."
"You will." I said coldly. "You will."
"A threat, Lara?"
"No." I said. "A promise."
"Then your friend will die screaming."
I hung up the phone, and a sole tear rolled down my cheek. "I'm sorry, Jon." I whispered softly. "I'm so sorry."
I grinned coldly. I would deal with Jon later. One of my weaknesses is that I am a woman who holds grudges. I don't forgive people easily when they betray me. And that is what Jon had done.
Stairs led there way up the side of the apartments, but I knew Pierre would be watching them. He may be a deceitful, ruthless bastard, but he wasn't stupid. The only other way up I could see was climbing the walls, and I couldn't do that without a rope.
I frowned and wandered around to the back of the building. I wasn't going to give up - not when I was so close. I would go up the stairs if I had to . . .
But I wouldn't have to do that. I smiled when I saw the large tree overshadowing the building. The tree wasn't hard to climb, not after climbing some of the things I had. It only took me a few minutes to be crouched on a broad branch, level with the back balcony of Pierre's apartment. I watched for a moment, but could see no movement inside.
I grinned and edged forward, right to the end of the branch. The end of the branch was about a meter away from the balcony railing, a fact that Pierre would have thought prevented anyone from getting in that way. He was naïve like that.
I gauged the distance carefully and then retreated once again. Carefully standing up, so I would not bang my head on the surrounding branches, I sprinted forward, jumping from the end of the branch at the last minute, and grabbing the railing of the balcony with a soft grunt. I quickly swung myself up and over, landing in a crouch with my guns in my hands. Now was not the time to take stupid chances.
I ducked back into the shadows of the building, and listen carefully. There were no sounds out of the ordinary, but I was cautious just the same. I holstered my guns, and walked over to the back door. I was immediately suspicious when the door swung open to my touch. I grabbed my guns and slipped inside as quietly as I could.
I stifled a gasp when I saw what was inside. Two large bodies littered the floor, bullet holes decorating their chests and blood pooling beneath them. Papers and books were scattered on the floor, and the furniture had been completely smashed. I crept forward, through the lounge room, and down the hall into Pierre's bedroom.
The sight in here was even worse than the lounge room. Another body lay in the doorway, his blood staining the carpet. Inside the room, the bed had been turned upside-down, the curtains had been pulled from the windows and the wardrobe had been smashed in. I walked towards it, and found Pierre's safe inside, its door blown off. There was nothing left inside it. Whoever it was who had done this now had the Philosopher's Stone.
I walked around to the other side of the bed to see if I could find any trace of Pierre, and found his body. His eyes were closed, and a blood covered his chest. I closed my eyes for a minute, before bending down and checking his pulse. He was still alive, but barely. A gun was still clasped in his hand.
There was nothing else for me to do here, so I returned to the balcony and climbed onto the railing. I leapt back into the tree, landing on a lower branch and quickly scrambling down to the ground. I made my way back to my own apartment, stopping only to briefly call the police.
I carefully unlocked the door of my apartment and slipped inside. I drew my guns, and flipped on the light, but no one was there. I checked all the rooms just to be sure. When I was I holstered my guns and sank down onto the couch, and put my head in my hands. Whoever had broken into Pierre's apartment had really wanted to get there hands on the Philosopher's Stone.
I knew of only two other people who wanted to get there hands on it. Larson and Jon. Larson was too stupid to organize something like that. And I doubted he was working for anyone else. Pierre would have made sure of that. But I could not believe Jon was responsible for it either. It was true that Jon had wanted to give the Philosopher's Stone back to Italy, but he believed in letting people give them back, not stealing them. Unless he had changed . . .
The phone rang, startling me out of my thoughts. I picked it up. "Pronto?" I greeted in Italian.
"Lara Croft. It's an honor." Said a voice.
I was instantly wary. "Who are you?"
"Now, now. That would make it too easy." The voice replied. "I saw you today, Lara." The voice continued. "Breaking and entering is a crime, you know."
I stilled. "What do you want?" I asked.
"Your assurance that you will not come after me. That you will leave the Philosopher's Stone alone."
"No." I said. "That I will not give."
"Even if you condemn a close friend of yours to a painful and prolonged death?"
His reasonable tone sent shivers down my spine. "Do you not believe me, Lara?" he asked. "I did not think you would."
There was a faint clink and someone else came onto the line. "Hello Lara." Said a familiar voice, laced with fear.
"Jon." I said.
"Yes. Jon." The unknown voice repeated.
There was a muffled shout and another soft click. "Unless you want your friend to die, you will stay out of this."
I took a deep breath and shut my eyes. Jon. I was angry with him yes, but I didn't want him to die. Not after . . .
I opened my eyes and ruthlessly stopped my thoughts. Taking a deep breath, I prayed Jon would live long enough to forgive me for this. "I'm sorry." I said. "But I cannot promise anything."
"You will condemn your friend to death? Your lover?"
"He is not my lover." I said coldly.
"But he once was, wasn't he, Lara?"
"He betrayed me." I said, refusing to be drawn into his game more than I already was. "I don't care whether he lives or dies."
"You are either a very cold woman, Lara Croft, or you are willing to risk much to gain the Philosopher's Stone." The man chuckled. "I think I would very much like to meet you."
"You will." I said coldly. "You will."
"A threat, Lara?"
"No." I said. "A promise."
"Then your friend will die screaming."
I hung up the phone, and a sole tear rolled down my cheek. "I'm sorry, Jon." I whispered softly. "I'm so sorry."
