Thanks, Lady Lara Croft. :-) I'm not sure how Bryce and Hillary will fare either, but hopefully whatever happens it'll be amusing. I hope I'm not confusing anyone by depending on earlier details too much - I know you all have more important stuff to do than memorise fanfic plots to the letter! 'Fraid this chapter's a bit of a filler in preparation for the next, which needs to stand alone.

Fuzzy Briefing

His phone rang and Bryce, just coming out of the bathroom, dived forward and landed flat on the hotel bed, bouncing as he grabbed the handset and answered the call. "Hello!"

Having decided it was too late to retrace their tracks all the way back to Newcastle, and knowing that by the time they got there the antiques shop would be long shut, and it wouldn't be too easy to find accommodation, they'd checked into a Best Western in Liverpool. Manchester had been closer, but they'd had visions of running into Lara there.

"Bryce, it's me," came the reply yelled over what could only be described as a commotion.

Bryce rolled onto his back and frowned. "Lara? What's going on? Where are you?"

"Slight change of plan, Bryce. Not sure where I am, but I'm about to go and pick up a forth Periapt Shard."

"A what?"

"Periapt Shard, Bryce. Don't you ever listen to anything I say? The weapons I used to kill Eckhardt in Prague?"

"But – "

"Look, I can't talk now, it's all a bit complicated, but I'm okay and I'll get back to you when I can, alright? Say goodnight to Hillary for me."

"Lara?" was all Bryce managed to get out before she hung up. "Fine, whatever," he complained, flinging the phone back down.

"Ready?" Kurtis appeared at Lara's side as she hung up her phone, hefting an AK-47 rifle and checking it over. He was dressed in the usual combats and T-shirt, but he had taken advantage of the extra resources of The Company, and was now also sporting more weaponry than a small battalion and dark camouflage paint smeared over his face.

"I think I confused Bryce."

"Easily done." Kurtis handed the rifle to Lara and looked her over. "Nice outfit. Very...tough girl," he got out after considering her garb for a moment. Not having brought any of her usual combat clothes with her, Lara had thrown together a raiding outfit based on black jeans that she'd cut off into shorts, a cranberry vest top with a scribbled star on it, and a black flak jacket that she'd borrowed from The Company. She'd also opted for face paint, but more for cosmetic effect than practical use. Lara was a sassy dresser.

Behind them, causing the commotion that Bryce had heard on the phone, was a small team of ten, all suiting up and engaging in the usual rough banter that combat teams always seemed to deal in. One of them approached Kurtis and Lara.

"We're ready, Sirs." His accent was American, and showed no trace of having been diluted through emigration, like many of the other foreign employees she'd met, but they were clearly still in England, which told Lara that The Company was obviously pretty mobile.

"Excellent," said Lara succinctly, turning and heading for the doorway, Kurtis at her side.

As they reached it, a monitor display to the side flashed to show, 'Mission Active' in green, and the doors swished automatically open, through which they entered into an underground car park. Lara quickly took in her new surroundings, gleaning whatever information about the organisation that she could.

It was a large square, maybe 50 metres in length, with doorways all around it and a black van parked outside each one. Theirs had its back doors already opened, and a driver was climbing into the cabin, starting up the engine and tapping something into a small palmtop computer attached to the dashboard. Lara's assigned team moved around her and Kurtis, who was waiting for his partner to take it all in, and began loading equipment into the van quietly and efficiently. Across the square another team had just finished doing the same and were piling themselves into the back, the last one still clambering up even as the van pulled away. It headed for a single exit and disappeared up a sloping tunnel, presumably up to the surface. "Well oiled machine," Lara remarked, stepping forward and climbing into the back of the van.

As the van drove away, Lara still having no idea as to her whereabouts inside the windowless box, all eyes turned to her. She stared back, blinking, not quite knowing what they expected. Kurtis did, however, and he nudged her. "You're in charge, Croft. Give 'em a briefing." She looked at him, her eyes wide in disbelief.

"Give them a briefing? How am I supposed to be in charge when I've been kept in the dark myself?" Kurtis' only answer was a grin, so she sighed, and stood up, moving to the front of the van.

"Information is sketchy at best. We don't really know what we're dealing with. We have maps, that's about it. Once we find our way through the old London Underground tunnels and into the Periapt Complex, all we have is our wits and our guns. Kurtis and myself will be leading, and you'll be following our orders to the letter, but having said that, don't be afraid to offer any information or opinions that you might have."

That was the best she could do. The file she'd been given on the Periapt Shards had mostly contained information on their history, as Kurtis had summarised in their initial meeting. Everything else was either from an unreliable source or too vague to be of any real use in planning their expedition. Geological surveys and maps of the London Underground had mapped out their initial movements through disused tunnels into the natural cavern system where the Shard was hidden, known as the Periapt Complex, but after that they were on their own. Surface building had ruined the chances of any useful geological work, and all they had on the Complex was an ancient map that had possibly been rendered useless through land subsidence, rock falls, flooding, or any other number of hazards. Lara didn't mind too much, though. She was used to going in blind.

The team returned to quiet chit-chat as Lara sat back down, talking amongst themselves, checking their equipment over one last time, playing card games, sitting quietly and just psyching themselves up for the mission. Kurtis, squashed next to Lara in the cramped quarters, took advantage of their sudden anonymity and leant his head against hers, speaking quietly so that only she could hear. Whether his physical contact was to mask their conversation or for other more casual reasons, she didn't know, but she let it slip. He was beginning to get back through to her again, and she wasn't sure that she didn't want him to succeed.

"So we're clear? On the plan?"

"We're clear."

"I don't wanna have to kill these guys." Kurtis' words showed feeling and concern for the team, but his eyes refused to acknowledge them, staring down towards the stacks of equipment in the centre of the van.

"You got the tranquillisers didn't you?" Lara shifted a little, startled by Kurtis' admission that harked back to a time when he hadn't seemed quite so cold.

"Yeah, I did, but I'm not sure they'll penetrate the flak jackets."

"They will." Lara kept her eyes to the front, drawing no attention to them as their conversation finished and they stayed as they were, jostled slightly by the moving van.

Hillary and Bryce laughed as they sprawled on the beds in their twin hotel room, Bryce flicking through the in-house entertainment channels.

"This is great!" squeaked Hillary. So often he had to stay at home while Lara and Bryce went off on their adventures, now he was getting to stay in a top hotel and play with the film channels. "Oh! Oh! Go back!", he shouted over the din of TV and laughter, and Bryce obediently returned to the previous channel. "I know him! I know him!"

"What?!"

"That man! That actor! Oh, what's he been in?"

"Erm...this film?"

"No, idiot!" Hillary half-heartedly threw a pillow at Bryce and continued trying to place the familiar face, clicking his fingers as if it would make a light bulb appear over his head.

"You know what we need to do?" said Bryce, settling back into the pillows with one arm behind his head. "We need to go out."

"Go out where?" asked Hillary, attention still fixed on the unknown actor.

"A club."

"A club? I haven't been to a club in years. I'm middle aged, Bryce."

"Time for a mid-life crisis then," said Bryce, swinging his legs off the bed and scratching his fingers through his hair to muss it up. "Come on."