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Forced Agreements

"Sorted?" Bryce asked Hillary. The two men were standing in the main hallway regarding the two stacks of boxes and drinking tea. The grandfather clock behind them struck three. Bryce yawned.

"All sorted," Hillary confirmed.

"Auction house picking it up tomorrow at ten?"

"Ten."

"It's three in the morning."

"It is."

"Bed?"

"Too far. Couch."

"Chair," agreed Bryce.

Both men drank the last dregs of tea, slammed a cup down on each stack, and then dragged themselves into the nearby lounge, collapsing onto the nearest pieces of comfortable furniture and falling straight asleep.

"Where are we going?" Lara hissed to Kurtis, walking briskly with him along Oxford Street, pulled close in what appeared to the outside world to be a young couple huddling against the cold but was in fact Kurtis holding tightly onto Lara's forearm with one arm around her waist to both secure her as captive and create the comforting illusion to the outside world.

"To a meeting."

"And your office is...?" Lara asked, knowing that his 'meeting' was very much unofficial and very much in the cold.

"Not far," was the firm reply.

"Do you know why I've allowed this to get this far?" Lara's voice was deceptively conversational but there was an edge of tone that was softly dangerous.

"Because you know that I'm a match for you and you can't escape?" was the joking answer. He knew full well why she'd gone along with the charade.

"Because I want to know what's going on." So, tell me.

"Oh you'll find out what's going on soon enough." With that, Kurtis veered them sharply off into a side alley and twenty feet down towards a dead end. The glare of the street light on the main road cast a stark area of orange glow at the mouth of the alley, but beyond, the shadows had full domain. Only the ambient light served to illuminate their way, shining off the glistening pavements still wet from the earlier storm and adorned with puddles in the uneven concrete, specked with the impact of fine, light rain.

They reached the wall and turned, Kurtis adjusting his hold on his hostage to a far less friendly headlock, a gun appearing out of his pocket. It was held to the side of her head, and she felt his ragged breath on her ear as he whispered to her, his voice threatening.

"Can I put the gun away?"

"I wouldn't advise it." Lara dug her nails into his forearm, pulling it away from where it pressed uncomfortably against her throat.

"Listen Lara, just listen for one second. I've treated you fairly, I've treated you respectfully." Lara barked a short, sharp laugh, but it was quickly quashed when he tightened his hold on her. "It's in both our interests for you to co-operate. These people we're meeting are bigger, better and more dangerous than anybody you or I have ever dealt with before. You do not," and with that word he flexed his arm up under her chin, jerking her head back against his shoulder, "I repeat, not want to do anything other than look nice and behave well. Not yet. You got me?"

His words and actions cowed her. He was obviously not the Kurtis she had known before, and she understood only too well what he was telling her. These people – whoever they were – were better players than they were, and it wasn't a good idea to go up against them. For the moment, anyway. Obviously, her ex-partner was into something interesting, and obviously he needed her. And Lara fully intended to satisfy her curiosity.

She nodded against his forearm. "Ok."

Kurtis slowly released his grip on her, sweeping his arms away in an arc to leave her standing against him, his breath still hot on her ear. "Be a good girl?" Lara nodded again, swallowing dryly. She was treading on very thin ice, but she'd been on thinner. "Good." His hands came to her upper arms and he gently moved her to the side. "Then stand there, be quiet, and pay attention." A flicker of a menacing smile traced across his lips.

The sounds of approaching footsteps rescued Lara from the uncomfortable position she was in, but did little to slow her heart. She looked to the end of the alley as the light reaching in from the well lit main street was blocked by three figures rounding the corner. Confidently striding in, their shadows cut down the alley, creating a V with their forward edges as the middle man moved ahead of the others, his comrades following behind and to his sides in classic formation of brains and muscle. The brains stopped feet from Lara and Kurtis, his features barely visible in the shadow. His long black woollen coat swung slightly as he raised his black leather gloved hands and reached to his inside pocket, removing a wad of notes.

"Five thousand," he said, holding it up into the light reaching in above the men.

"Merchandise," Kurtis responded, gesturing to Lara stood next to him.

She was surveyed by the man, his eyes taking in every detail of her appearance but without a hint of sordid appreciation. "Good. Shall we?" He turned slightly and held out his arm, inviting Lara and Kurtis to precede him out of the alley. Kurtis immediately moved forward, collecting the five thousand as he went and stuffing it into his jacket as he followed the other two men back down the alley, Lara following him close behind. A black Land Cruiser came into view and the party headed towards it. Reaching the vehicle, one of the escorts opened the back door and the other produced from his pocket a bundle of black cloth. Kurtis, obviously fully understanding the conditions of travel, turned towards him and stood obediently still as he was handcuffed, arms in front, and as part of the bundle was shook loose, revealing itself to be a black eyeless hood. It was fitted over Trent's head, blinding him, and the other man placed his hand atop, assisting Kurtis into the car. Lara was next, following Kurtis' lead, as their new business partner, smiling smugly to himself, got into the front passenger seat, removing his gloves.

Bryce awoke the next morning to Hillary prodding him. "Get up, the auction house will be here in a minute, and the security company's due at twelve."

Bryce groaned. Clambering out of the oversized armchair he'd settled into for the night, stretching his limbs and rubbing an uncomfortable crick in his neck, he moved into the hallway just as a large van emblazoned with the words, 'Nixon Auction House' pulled up in the drive. He swung the door open to the approaching delivery men as Hillary gathered the papers for the sales.

"Morning," the delivery men greeted.

"Morning," Bryce yawned in return.

"Good morning, gentlemen!" Hillary gushed.

Bryce and one of the men began loading boxes into the waiting van as Hillary explained the accompanying paperwork, and the sun, blessing the southern coast of England that late summer, shone down brightly.

It was mid morning when the car finally arrived at its destination, after hours of silence. Kurtis, having not slept earlier, was snoring softly from underneath his hood, which was now serving the wonderful added advantage of keeping the daylight out. Lara had been awake all night, analysing, and after only a while she had started to get things clear in her mind.

These people, whoever they were, were big, bad and most definitely in charge. They wanted her, and Kurtis had provided her. However, deciding that he could afford to push his luck just a little, he'd snatched her back from their earlier attempt to kidnap her that must have been planned with his help, upped his price, and added into the deal that he got to tag along.

So – that left only three large, annoyingly important, questions.

Who were they, what did they want Lara for, and what was Kurtis' interest in all of this?

In short – bugger.

They were politely helped out of the car, Kurtis being awakened with a shake and a, "Sir". Not quite prisoners, then. Lara was lead a short distance over what sounded like concrete, then stopped. The quiet swish of what she guessed was an electronic key sounded, and then the hiss of air controlled doors. She was lead forward again, up a short ramp, and then the hood was removed.

She found herself in what looked for all the world like a hi-tech office building corridor. The shiny black panelled walls contrasted sharply against a white tiled floor, silver effect inlaid circular lights at regular intervals along the ceiling casting slices of light that bounced harshly off the hard, cold surfaces.

The man in charge stood before them, smiling amiably. Lara got the feeling it wasn't genuine.

"Take her to containment," he instructed one of the escorts. "Mr Trent," he said, turning and smiling at him, "if you'll follow me please."

Kurtis followed his client into a board room, furnished in black and chrome with monitors around the walls detailing various information, scrolling across screens with maps, diagrams, television feeds, graphs and all manner of other outputs. He paid them little attention, instead seating himself in a chair indicated by his host.

"I'm very pleased with the merchandise, Mr Trent."

"I'm glad, Mr Cheney." Kurtis lit up a cigarette and leant back in his chair comfortably.

"Does she know the details of this arrangement?"

"No. But I'm sure if we tell her the right ones, she'll be on board."

"And if we tell the wrong ones?"

"She'll steal the shard from under your nose and walk away as she leaves you to die. She's not a woman to be crossed."

"Then we'll just have to stay on her good side, won't we?" Mr Cheney smiled like a spider to a fly. Pressing a small touchpad built into the table in front of him, he spoke. "Send her along."

Containment was not comfortable. A small room with metal floor and stark breeze block walls, it was furnished only by a chair in the centre of the room that was bolted to the floor, made of steel, and was fixed with cuffs for the wrists and feet. Lara, however, was left free. She waited only ten minutes before the door was opened and a woman, dressed in a cream business suit with her hair in a chignon and immaculate underplayed make-up, stood before her with a clipboard.

"Lady Croft, if you'll follow me." Her accent had a hint of French to it, but her English appeared to be perfect.

Lara obediently did as she was asked, and found herself following the woman along long, silent corridors, followed herself by another man with a gun displayed clearly on his belt. Either she was trusted, or the security was unbreakable, because they were taking very few precautions with her. Which one it was could either make or break her in this place, Lara decided. She certainly didn't think there was nothing to worry about.

On the next floor, they reached a room and Lara was shown inside, meeting once again Kurtis and the mysterious buyer. She stood before the table politely, making sure to play everything cleanly and properly until she had a better idea of what was happening to her.

"Sit down," said Kurtis, smiling and offering her a chair next to him. She took the chair, but remained neutral in her expression. They were no longer friends, no matter what he thought.

"Lady Croft," said the man opposite them, pouring a glass of water and pushing it across the table to her, "I am Mr Cheney. And I would like for you to do a job for me."

"A job?" She sipped the water, not bothering to be cautious about it being spiked. Drugging or killing her would serve no purpose at that particular moment.

"I hear you're quite the adventurer, and your references are sparkling." Kurtis and Cheney smiled at each other. Clearly, Kurtis had been her 'reference'.

"The Periapt Shards, Miss Croft. You were not fully briefed as to their history last time."

"No?"

Trent blew out a lungful of smoke and spun his chair to face Lara more squarely. "The Shards were originally a single spearhead. It could kill demons...or gods. Its safety threatened by a growing satanic sect out to kill God, the Knights Templar broke it into four pieces. Three shards, and a tip. The shards maintained a massive amount of the power, which is why we could use them to stop Eckhardt, but it was the tip that held the ability to kill true deities."

He paused to take another drag and Lara, soaking up the details, waited patiently, her gaze not moving from his face. "The shards were left in the care of what became the Lux Veritatis, ready for use. The tip was taken and hidden in subterranean caverns underneath what is now London. A sub-order of the Knights Templar went down with it to guard it. Trouble was, the dark and the inbreeding got to them. They forgot their purpose and the subterraneans of British urban legend were born."

"So the tip is no longer protected?" Lara concluded.

"Exactly," Mr Cheney jumped in. "Which presents a problem and also the solution."

Kurtis took back over again. "Without its proper protectors, it has no-one to wield it against one of the biggest threats the Earth has ever faced from it's own. However, without its proper protectors, it also means it can be retrieved, and wielded by us."

"And you want me to go in and get it?"

"Originally the plan, yes," said Mr Cheney, "but due to a slight change of contract, you'll now be rescuing it with the assistance of Mr Trent."

Lara looked at Kurtis, not quite sure how to take that piece of news.

"Partners again," he smiled at her, stubbing out his cigarette.