"Bryce." I snapped into the phone. "I need you to run a trace for me. The call came to this phone, five minutes ago. I need it as soon as possible."

"Sure thing, Lara." Bryce said. "What's wrong?"

"Somebody has stolen the Philosopher's Stone from Pierre and is trying to manipulate me into keeping my nose out of it." I said.

Bryce chuckled. "He should have known that was futile before he started."

"Yes." I said coldly. "He should have."

"I'll call you as soon as I have the information, Lara." Bryce said - and if he noticed my murderous tone, he simply ignored it.

I hung up the phone and went into me bedroom and began to pack. I threw in all me clothes and carefully concealed my guns in the false bottom of my suitcase once again. I collected some of the things I had left in the apartment from my last trip to Rome and threw them in as well - lock picking tools, extra ammo, rope, knives and a locator. When I was done, I began pacing the hall, waiting for Bryce to call me back.

After what seemed like an eternity, I heard the phone ring again. I snatched it up before the third ring. "Bryce?" I snapped.

"Germany." Bryce said. "An apartment in Munich. His name is Alexander Hoffmann."

"Thank you, Bryce." I said, feeling as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders - because now I could do something.

"Wait a minute, Lara." Bryce warned. "Hoffmann is leaving German in one hour. He has arranged for a private plane to take him to a location in the Swiss Alps."

"What?"

"Hilary has booked you on a plane that leaves in half an hour. It should get you there an hour after they do. Someone's going to fly you up the mountains."

Thank Hilary for me." I said. "And thank you Bryce."

I hung up, and grabbed my bags. I was off!

* * *

About 6 hours later I was sitting at the open door of a helicopter, hovering above a ski path three miles from Hoffmann's hideaway. Thanks to Hilary's planning, I was now wearing black leggings, a black turtleneck sweater under a warm black jacket, my fingerless gloves, a woolen hat and a pair of skis.

It was dark outside, so the black clothing would blend in nicely, but it was a dangerous time to attempt what I was doing. But that hadn't stopped my before. I gestured at the pilot, drew a deep breath of cold mountain air and jumped.

I bent my knees as I hit the ground to lessen the impact, but I still felt the jolt all the way up my legs from the five foot drop. I skied away, and gradually the sound of the helicopter faded until I heard only silence broken by the sound of my skis in the snow. My legs soon fell into a familiar pattern, and before I knew it, I was just beyond Hoffmann's fortress. And I do mean fortress.

There was a large, white stone wall surrounding the complex that would be hard to get past and a large metal gate to my left with two guards beyond it. Guards also patrolled the walls, only five in total, but it was enough.

I crouched in the snow behind a group of fir trees and watched the complex. I made sure I stayed in the shadows, so they couldn't see me. I slipped off the skis easily and hid them at the base of one of the trees. Both the boots and the skis had been designed by Bryce (Hilary had thoughtfully sent them along with my change of clothes) and as a result, the boots behaved and felt just like the ones I usually wore, and not like regular ski boots.

I crouched there for a few minutes, my breath fogging in the cold air, and wondered how I was going to get into the place undetected. Then I grinned. I've noticed over the years that sometimes you need skill to get what you want, but sometimes it's just blind luck. And never sneer at blind luck.

I watched the convoy of two black SUV's drive up the road to the fortress and stop at the gate. I didn't waste any time. I broke cover and ran towards the last car, my feet crunching in the snow. As the gates opened I slipped under the car and hooked my arms and legs on the underneath. I held on tight as the car began to move, and I was in!

The car came to a halt a few seconds later and I cautiously peered out from underneath the car. I slipped down, so I was lying in the snow. We had stopped just outside the front door. Perfect!

I saw several booted feet step out of the car, and then I stifled a gasp as a body was dragged from the car and fell kneeling into the snow. It was Jon, and he looked terrible. His bottom lip was swollen and cut, and his face was covered in bruises. His hands were tied behind his back.

I saw a pair of expensive black leather shoes approach from the other car, followed by a cruel laugh. "So how does it feel to know how much your life means to Lara Croft?" the man said with a light German accent. It was the voice from the phone. Alexander Hoffmann.

Jon spat on the snow, tingeing it pink. I saw him glare up at Hoffmann, but he didn't say anything. "Now, now." Hoffmann said. "There's no need to be angry at me. I was Lara who condemned you to this fate, not me."

"Why?" Jon asked in a hoarse voice. "Because she won't let you have the Philosopher's Stone?"

"Yes."

Jon was dragged to his feet. "Lara may be a cold, calculating bitch," he said, "but she knows the Stone has to be kept from those consumed by greed. Like you."

I raised an eyebrow at Jon's words. Where was all his preaching about giving the past to the people?

"I'm beginning to understand," Jon continued, "why she says some artifacts must be kept secret."

"So the mighty Lara Croft has a noble heart, does she?" Hoffmann said.

"It won't stop her killing you." Jon said.

"She doesn't even know who I am." Hoffmann said coldly. "I think I'm safe."

'I wouldn't bet on it,' I thought. 'Because I could just roll out from under the car and a few bullets later you'd be dead . . . '

But that wouldn't give me the Philosopher's Stone, and there were at least five goons to deal with. So I would have to be patient.

"Bring him." Hoffmann snapped, and two goons grabbed Jon and dragged him into the complex. Hoffmann followed.

The other three of the men stayed for a minute, before walking off in the opposite direction. I waited until they were gone before I moved. Using the cars to block the view of the guards on the wall - just in case any were looking inwards - and snuck through the now closed, but unlocked front door.

I knew from the information Bryce had sent me that there was a net of security cameras throughout the building, so I had to be careful. I had memorized a partial floor plan of the complex, so I knew where I had to go.

I watched the camera set above the tiled I was in and kept out of sight. The room was actually quite pretty, with its black and white tiled floor, beige walls and green leafy plants in the corners. When the camera began to turn, I slipped under it and quickly jogged up a small flight of carpeted stairs and ducked beneath a second security camera before it saw me.

From here I slipped down a narrow corridor and into a small bedroom, watching out for security cameras the whole way. This was the servant's part of the complex, so I knew there was only a small chance of me being seen. Now for the hard part.

There was a fixed camera in the ceiling of the bedroom, and the only way to get past it was to use a handy device of Bryce's. The way I understood it, was that the device would send out an electronic pulse that would cause a glitch in the cameras recording system, giving me about one minute where it wouldn't see me.

I slipped the device out of my backpack and used it, counting to five before I moved. I then jogged over to the bed and climbed on it, before slipping through the vent above and into the ventilation system. The vents were narrow enough for me not to expect many booby traps, if any. That was because they were too narrow for a man to fit through - and therefore deemed not to be a security risk. People did not think a woman could pose that much of a threat - a fact that had worked well for me in the past.

I slithered my way along the duct, and noticed how warm it had become. I felt the warm breeze on my face and figured they must be using the ducts for heating. It didn't matter that much. I stopped at the next intersection to remove my hat, jacket and turtleneck, revealing the black singlet I had worn underneath, before continuing on my way. After a while, I stopped again to check where I was. Close. A minute later I found what I was looking for. I slipped out of the duct, using Bryce's device again, and left the small office. I grinned. I was meters away from the Philosopher's Stone and Hoffmann didn't even know I was here.