Author Disclaimer: Nope. Still not mine. Eh well. Thank you to my lovely reviewers, I'm glad you're enjoying this fic. ^_^ Anyways, on with the next chapter!!!

Chapter 2- We're off to see the crimelord! The wonderful crimelord of Paris!

Kurtis approached the burly doorman, slowly, but surely. The man lifted his head off his arm and drew himself up to his full height, observing Kurtis through dark tinted glasses. He opened his mouth to begin grilling Kurtis, but Kurtis had already uttered the password.
"Pluit Noire." The doorman, a little surprised, stepped back and began to open the gate. Once all locks had been removed, and the barrier was agape, Kurtis stepped nimbly through it, and the doorman promtly slammed it shut again.
"Thanks." The doorman grunted and resumed his lolling on the fence. Without further ado, Kurtis set off between the stone mausoleums. "So many dead people," He said, gazing up at one particularly large crypt. A small splashing told him that he'd trodden in something. Kurtis looked down to find his foot in a pool of vital fluid, and next to that, the stagnant body of a dog. Several bullet cases lay on the floor near it. "And dead dogs apparently." He finished. "Ms. Croft has already passed through." He headed towards a fenced area which contained several tombs, and when Kurtis studied it closer, a fallen statue of an angel. "Bingo." He rattled the gate leading into the area. "Damn. It's locked. Looks like I'm going to have to do this the less easy way." Placing one foot on one of the bars on the gate, Kurtis hoisted himself up, and began to scale the metal barrier. Carefully avoiding the metal spikes at the top, he swung a leg over the fence, and proceeded to do the same with the other once he'd found a suitable foot-hold. Once stable, Kurtis hopped off the fence and jogged towards the fallen angel statue, stopping at the edge and peering into the abyss. "Great. The sewers." He said, wrinkling his nose slightly at the smell of rancid waste. Sitting at the edge of the hole, Kurtis took once last look at daylight before sliding off the edge and into the black of the sewers.
He landed rather less gracefully than he had wished, and had ended up sprawled on the floor, sending several rats scurrying off down the tunnel, squeaking in terror. Picking himself up, Kurtis drew his Boran X from his side, took aim and shot one of the vermin. Calmly, he replaced the gun and began to head down the tunnel after the remaining rats. He rounded a corner and found himself at the edge of another pit. He began to tackle this in very much the same way he had done with the fence, only reversed, climbing slowly down the ivy which was clinging to the bricks. At the bottom, Kurtis gazed around, trying to find an alternative route to climbing up the ivy on the other side, and he found one- A largish hole in the wall partially hidden by hanging plantlife. Crouching down, Kurtis managed to crawl through the hole, dislodging several spiders in the process. Casually flicking them away, he stood up and headed through the passage, reaching the exit- Another hole covered with ivy. Again, Kurtis crouched and shuffled through the hole, only to find himself in another pit. "Ok. Bouchard obviously doesn't like visitors." He shrugged, climbed the ivy and out of the pit. Following the path around, he came to yet ANOTHER pit, this time filled with water. "Shit. How many more of these things to I have to go through?" Kurtis swore, eyeing the murky water suspiciously. "Oh...Well here goes nothin'." He took a deep breath and plunged into the muddy brown pool. Kurtis narrowed his eyes to slits and started to swim forwards, avoiding the floating pond weed like the plague. Eventually he reached the other side, and surfaced, gasping for air, his hair plastered to his face. Kurtis clambered up the wall and sat on the edge of the pool. Unholstering his Boran X, he proceeded to check it to see if it had been damaged by the water, which, by the end of the check, he found that it hadn't. Smoothing the hair off his face, he stood and walked carefully down the corridor. He wasn't sure if there'd be any other pitfalls awaiting him, and he certainly wasn't going to run around like a headless chicken to find out whether there was or not.
After much jumping and swimming, Kurtis arrived in an area which resembled a hospital ward, only not as clean. Mould grew on the walls and water dripped from the ceiling. There was a screen in the cell, shielding something which was making a low, moaning sound. Unnerved, Kurtis drew his Boran X and sneaked towards the screen. He peered around the curtain, and what he saw made him yell in surprise. There was a man on the bed, horribly mutated by something, and he was writhing in pain, making the same, sticky sounding moaning as before.
"What the hell is that thing?!" He said, a look of pure disgust on his face.
"Poor Arnaud....." Someone said from behind him. Kurtis wheeled around to face the owner of the voice. A stocky man of around fourty stood before him, wearing a rather expensive looking leather jacket, a solid gold watch sparkling at his wrist. Kurtis didn't need telling who this was, the clothes spoke themselves. This was Louis Bouchard, the Parisian crimelord.
"What happened to him?" Kurtis asked, clearly too appalled to begin demanding Eckhardt's whereabouts.
"You're the second person to have stumbled upon Arnaud, and the both have you have asked the same question." Bouchard stated.
"I know. Ms. Croft has already payed you a visit, though I'm sure it was for an entirely different reason." Kurtis waved the hand holding the Boran X in the direction of Arnaud. "So what happened to him?"
"Monstrum attack. Only one to have survived." Bouchard said mournfully, looking at the helpless figure of Arnaud on the bed. "One of my toughest....." He fell silent.
"And no-one knows how it happened?" Bouchard shook his head.
"I would ask Arnaud that, but he cannot talk anymore." This statement was aided by another series of gurgling noises from Arnaud, and Bouchard turned and swept out of the room. Kurtis followed him, only too glad to get away from the monster lying on the bed. Bouchard returned to his underground office, and seated himself in a large, leather chair by the fire. "You said you came for a different reason to the woman. Care to explain?"
"One word for ya, buddy. Eckhardt. Mean anything to you?"
"No. I can't say it does." Bouchard said, carelessly flicking a speck of dust off the arm of the chair.
"You sure? You don't look as if you mean that." Kurtis said, stepping forward, holding the Boran X out in front of him, keeping it trained on Bouchard.
"I can't say I know this man." Bouchard said coolly. "Sorry that I was no help to you."
"You will be sorry." Kurtis snarled as he leapt for the man in the chair, but a click told him that he should go no further. Bouchard was on his feet, a revolver in his hand. He pulled Kurtis towards him and pressed the barrel of the gun to his temple. Kurtis did the same, pressing the barrel of the Boran X to Bouchard's temple, his finger poised and ready on the trigger. For a moment they glared at each other.
"I know nothing, alright!" Bouchard snapped, lowering the revolver and pushing Kurtis roughly away.
"Alright!" Kurtis spat, as he made his way towards the open door at the end of the room, eyes fixed on Bouchard, gun in hand, ready. "Take it easy." Glancing back at Bouchard one last time, Kurtis sprinted through the door and up the stairs. "Lying asshole." He said, his voice full of venom. At the top, he found himself in what used to be a church, now a boxing center. "Now to deal with another lying asshole." Kurtis said, holstering the gun and began making his way past the training boxers to the exit.
Out on the street, Kurtis found the place where he had left his bike, and to his amazement, it was still there. "And I thought Paris had a high crime rate...." He hopped onto the motorcycle, started the engine and roared off down the street in the direction of Cafe Metro. Pulling up ouside the brasserie, Kurtis jumped off the bike and burst into the cafe, Boran X drawn and loaded.
Pierre looked up and paled at the sight of the gun-wielding Kurtis.
"N-N-Now see here...." He stuttered, backing up against the wall in terror.
"You lied asshole. I don't like people who lie."
"B-But..." Pierre said, shaking from head to toe.
"No buts Pierre. You lied to me. Face it."
"So you didn't find Bouchard then?"
"I did, but only after I was directed to yet another person, wasting yet more time trying to get information out of him!" He snarled.
"And was Bouchard able to help you?" Pierre asked, dabbing his sweaty brow with a dish-cloth.
"No, as a matter of fact, he wasn't. He lied too. I know that he has heard of Eckhardt, he just wasn't co-operating."
"T-That's really too bad..."
"Yeah. It was. And I guess this is really too bad as well. Too bad for you at least. Goodbye Pierre." Kurtis took aim and fired. The shot hit Pierre directly in the chest. He doubled up, a hand pressed to where the bullet had entered his body. Pretty soon, a river of crimson was trickling over his fingers. Pierre sank to the floor, gasping for air, leaving a trail of blood on the yellow wall. Kurtis leapt onto the bar and hopped down near the dying Pierre. Pierre looked up at him. Kurtis knelt beside him, and pressed the gun to Pierre's temple and pulled the trigger once more. Little droplets of blood splattered across Kurtis's face, and he watched the man slump, lifeless to the floor, twisted like some grotesque rag-doll. Kurtis stood, and headed towards the male washroom. Once inside, he cleaned the blood off his face and hands, ready to face the outside world again. He made his way towards the door when he heard the familiar tinkling of the bell. Someone had come into the cafe. Kurtis pressed his ear to the wooden door.
"Pierre?" He could faintly hear a woman's voice calling the dead cafe owner's name. "Pierre? Vous ici?" The clicking of stiletto heels ment that the woman was crossing the tiled floor. It was only a matter of time before she discovered the body. "Ce qui-?" A piercing scream cut through the silence. The clicking of heels began again and then the tinkling of the bell was heard. The woman had obviously run to get help.
"Time to move." Kurtis said to himself. He glanced around the washroom and spotted a window at the other end of the room. It was quite high up, though Kurtis was sure he could reach it. Dashing to the end cubical, Kurtis threw open the door and climbed onto the seat, and then the system. Unlocking the window by flicking the catch up, he pushed it open as far as it would go. Kurtis stuck his head out and checked that the coast was clear, which it was. Withdrawing his head back inside the building, Kurtis reached up and grabbed the edges of the cubical and jumped, swinging his legs through the window. He let go of the edges and slipped through, unharmed.
Standing in the dim light of the backstreet, Kurtis glanced back down towards the cafe entrance. Police sirens could be heard in the near distance- Before long, armed policemen would be swarming the area. "Looks like I'm gonna have to forefit retrieving my bike now. I'll get it later..." He thought. He turned and jogged up the sidestreet towards the river, unaware of someone watching him.

Whee!! My first cliffie! Whoot! Lol. Hope you guys like it. R&R please! I'll love you forever! ^_^