I have been having horrendous trouble with this site - it keeps saying the servers are overloaded, so I either lose all the formatting I've done on my latest chapter upload (grrrr) or I can't review others' work!!

Linzi and Lady Lara Croft, as ever, thankyou for your reviews. I'm thrilled that everyone seems to be loving this so much, I never dreamed it would go down so well! Yay! And yes, New Found Glory rule! Read and review, people, it lights up my otherwise dreary days!!

Here is yet another update for you, so soon after the last. ;-) I just couldn't stop writing - churned out this chapter and then had to annoyingly wait for two days before I could log in to post it. Don't know when the next update will be since I start a full time job tomorrow and will be getting up and 6am and not returning home til gone 6pm, so writing may be consigned to weekends only. I may just make time, though, because we're reaching the end and I'm getting excited! Whoo hoo! By the way, the Travelocity ad campaign mentioned in this chapter is, at least in Britain, a series of short, funny ads centering around travel guru Alan Whicker going to all these different places and saying, 'Hello' to them. The 'Hello, Morocco' ad is pure genius, it really is.

Clearing The Haze

Bryce and Hillary stared out of the massive windows of Narita Airport, bags slung over their shoulders, as rumpled and jet lagged as all the other travellers bustling around them.

"Tokyo." Hillary sighed as he took in the impressive view of the distant, technology driven city, feats of civil engineering, electronics and mass transport commonplace and lost among each other.

"That was a really good game," said Bryce, eyeing the software developer's headquarters in the distance.

"Traffic's murder," Hillary commented.

"I wonder if they'd be interested in buying my Tomb Raider concept?" Bryce mused.

"Do you think many people speak English?"

"I wonder if we'll have time to go to the video games press show?"

"Do they have tea in Tokyo?"

Bryce chose that moment to leave his own little corner of the universe and actually listen to what Hillary was saying. "What?"

Hillary looked back at him, blinking, equally unaware until then that anything existed outside of his own existence and the view of the city. "What?"

Bryce, deciding that a change of subject was needed, pointed to his left, opened his mouth for a moment and then said, "We need a taxi."

Groggy, angry, irritated and tired, Lara came round from the drugs. She blinked, clearing her vision, as she looked around the room, stopping abruptly as her eyes fell on the familiar form of Kurtis, sitting on a backwards chair and leaning his arms and chin on the back of it, watching her wake.

"Morning, gorgeous," he said despondently, all trace of his usual humour and joy at rubbing her up the wrong way gone.

"Pig," Lara muttered, looking distinctly unhappy to see him. She reached and felt for the clock on the bedside table, bringing it to her face where she still lay on the bed and groaning when she saw the time. Seven forty a.m. No wonder she felt groggy, she'd been out for over four hours and it hadn't even been proper sleep.

"That drug was only supposed to have you out for a couple of hours, you must have been tired."

Lara didn't answer, instead rubbing her eyes and stretching.

"They don't have the cult leader. He got away. They got two of his lackeys, though, they're being questioned now."

"Well, with good news like that, no wonder you're so perky," Lara said sarcastically, managing to sit up and regard Kurtis steadily.

In response he only squeezed his eyes shut and banged his forehead against his arms where they rested across the top of the chair back, staying that way so that his voice was muffled when he said, "God, Lara, we're in trouble."

"Oh good, I wondered when you were going to come clean."

The taxi doors swung open and Bryce and Hillary scrambled out. The taxi driver got out and opened the boot so that they could retrieve their bags and, accepting payment graciously and politely, smiled, offered a small bow, and got back into the car. As it sped away back into the busy Tokyo traffic, it left the two men, dagger hunter extraordinaires, standing on the kerb staring out over the road to the bustling pedestrians, skyscrapers and neon signs all around them.

"Hello, Tokyo," said Bryce in a perfect imitation of the Travelocity ad campaign.

"Hello, World!" Hillary added, grinning.

"When I was going to come clean?" Kurtis looked up at that, repeating Lara's words in a precise manner as if she had offended him. She had. "Just what is that supposed to mean?"

Lara got off the bed and moved around to the middle of the room, forcing Kurtis to twist on the chair as he followed her with his eyes to where she stopped, somewhere behind him. "I'm tired of this, Kurtis!" She spread her arms and gazed at him almost imploringly. "I'm tired of the lies, the betrayal. I never know where I am with you from one moment to the next, you never tell me the full story and yet you still expect me to help you, you can't decide whether you're on my side or Cheney's, and there's definitely something big going on here that you aren't telling me about!"

Kurtis slowly stood, keeping his eyes fixed on Lara's, his body moving even as his head stayed still giving the impression of a hunter readying to pounce on its prey.

"Oh, so I'm not giving you the full story, am I?" His voice was low and dangerous, his cold blue eyes hard and icy with confrontation as he kept his head bowed to remain on Lara's level. One foot crossed over the other in a sidestep as he slowly began to circle her, panther to deer, but he had only taken two steps covering just a small arc when he spun and aimed a kick at his chair, sending it crashing into the dressing table, making Lara jump, her arms snapping to her sides as she stiffened in momentary fright at the sudden movement.

No sooner had he attacked the chair then he had turned on her, hands outstretched to his sides in an imploring effort to make her understand as he shouted his words into her face, spitting them with pent up frustration and fear.

"Think, Croft! Look at the evidence! I'm scared!!" Kurtis jabbed his fingers towards his chest, an emphatic gesture to his state of mind. His voice suddenly became quieter again, lowered back to its earlier threatening tone. "After I left Croft Manor, I was numb. I turned off all my emotions and lived quite happily doing business and using women. Then you came along and screwed everything up, just like in Paris. You just had to do it, didn't ya? Make me feel again! You've ruined everything, Lara! Don't you get it?! I'm going to die!" Eyes still locked onto hers, wide and glittering with anger and fear as he opened verbal fire on her, leaving her staring back in a state between pain and confusion.

"What?" She shook her head, brows furrowed in bafflement, not having the slightest idea what he was talking about.

Waking up to his behaviour, realising that he was attacking the wrong person, Kurtis spun to face away from Lara, hands clapping over his face as he suddenly became weary from the whole stressful, uncontrollable, horrible situation. He let out a long heavy breath, the air pooling in his hands noisily, and then slid his hands out to the side of his face, taking desperate handfuls of hair for a moment before releasing and moving down to the back of his neck where he squeezed painfully at the stress knotting in his muscles as he tipped his head back, eyes closed, and let out a moan towards the ceiling, repressed anguish now washing over him freely like one long cold shower waking him up to the full horrendous reality of the fucked up mess he'd got himself into.

"I am so sorry, Lara," he groaned, his body suddenly becoming limp. "I don't know how I ever thought…"

"What? Kurtis! Tell me!" Her voice broke into his consciousness and he realised that in his catharsis he had almost forgotten the woman he was apologising to was there. Her cool hands, smooth and soothing, made contact with his arm and shoulder and he looked up to find her standing at his side, concern etched on her features as she stared up at him. "What's wrong?" she asked softly.

He told her. Told her everything as they sat together on the floor, Lara's legs stretched out to her side, his own forming triangles with the carpet, his head turned to look at her straight on as she sat as his side. The wry smile on his lips as he spoke mocked his own stupidity in his earlier actions, the firm grip he kept on Lara's hands begged her understanding and forgiveness. She sat, listening, barely believing what she heard.

"According to the map, the guy's apartment should be just up here," said Bryce, examining the paper in his hands as he walked, unconsciously dodging busy Japanese as he and Hillary threaded their way through the throngs. The occasional tourist or rare native not rushing to double the number of hours in their day passed by them, smiling or just simply sparing Lara's two a glance, fellow leaves getting tossed and turned by the fast flowing undercurrent of the chaotic city dwellers around them, out of synch, out of place. Bryce was completely oblivious to it all.

"Sorry, sorry," Hillary continually gasped, swinging his bag out of the way of passers by, sidestepping them as they seemingly ploughed straight into him, stumbling and tripping over his own feet in an effort to avoid the melee. It was always the same – Bryce sailed through life without even looking and yet Hillary was constantly doing everything in his power to stay on top of things and still got dragged into the undertow. One of the many reasons Hillary often found Bryce grating, he mused.

"I had it all planned so perfectly," Kurtis said, his voice almost a whisper, his chin fallen to his chest. "This great plan, precise detail. I set everything up just right. Hinted to Cheney that you were dangerous, that you'd want to steal the Tip from him, convinced him I didn't care that you were supposed to die. Convinced myself that I didn't care that you were supposed to die. It was flawless. Perfect. And then I backed out.

"These people, Lara, The Company – you don't steal from them and get away with it. They will hunt you down, they will find you. And when they do they will take back everything you've taken from them, find that most dear to you, destroy it before your eyes, and then torture you and kill you and leave your body to rot somewhere where no-one will ever find it. And that's you. Gone. Just, disappeared. The last anybody knew you went missing. Nobody ever finds out what happens to you. You're lost, forgotten. Maybe that's the worst part. I saw it. When I first came here. They were torturing one of their own just because he'd made a mistake on a mission. A little mistake. He'd gotten confused inside of a building, got lost on his way out. It could've cost the team vital seconds, they said. Could've got somebody hurt or killed. It didn't, but they didn't care about that. Tortured him to make sure he'd learn his lesson."

Kurtis looked up to Lara and looked deep into her eyes as he said, "I will never forget the utter hopelessness in his eyes. He knew that he had no escape. People who work for The Company, they're practically prisoners. The outside world forgot them a long time ago.

"These people, Lara. There is no salvation."

Lara shook her head again, still confused. "I don't understand. We were going to steal the Tip, weren't we?"

"I was going to get the Tip. You were going to get the blame."

"What?" He knew then that she understood, she just couldn't accept that she hadn't made a mistake.

"I was going to steal the Periapt Tip myself after we'd been through the Periapt Complex. I was going to frame you for it so that I could slip away and disappear and The Company wouldn't even come looking for me, thinking they'd got you. I told you we were going to steal the Tip right at the very beginning so that when they made you take a lie detector test when they were investigating who'd stolen it, you'd be incriminated. You may not have known the truth, but you knew about a plan to steal it. I'd already told Cheney that you would want to steal it. All I had to do was plant a little evidence, make a few throw away comments, and The Company goes after you thinking you're the thief. You don't tell them where it is because you don't know, but they just think you're lying. They centre their search for it on you and meanwhile I'm halfway across the world with the Tip in my protection and no-one's even thinking about me in the chaos of going after you. But right from the moment I laid eyes on you in the hotel I knew I couldn't do it. Just took me a while to realise it, that's all. And now there's no way out. Either I steal the Tip and hide it somewhere safe before they find me, or you're forced to kill the cult leader and die yourself, and the Tip gets left in Cheney's corrupt hands where he uses it as a bargaining chip to gain control of other occult organisations and increase his sphere of influence. I can't let that happen. I'm trapped."

Kurtis' head fell again, eyes staring sightlessly to his lap, numb shock at his inescapable fate engulfing his whole body and leaving it cold and resigned. A voice, quiet and disbelieving, stuttered its way into his thoughts. He looked up to see Lara shaking her head in denial as she spoke, her face written with torment at the truth.

"I…I…I don't believe it." She stood, shakily and clumsily getting to her feet where she staggered slightly, too overcome to find her usual balance. "I knew you were lying about something but I never…I mean it was obvious that you had some reason for telling me about the false plan to steal the Tip from the Complex, but I didn't think that it could…"

"Lara…" Kurtis stood, taking her hands again and forcing her to meet his gaze. "I'm sorry, but you've gotta realise – "

"Realise what, Kurtis?!" She came back to herself then, all shock and upset washed away in a sudden torrent of rage at his admission. "Realise that all along you were using me and planning on selling me out because when you planned it all you were having emotional problems?! Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?!" As she spoke the word 'sorry' she wrenched her hands from his and turned her back on him, her fingers coming to her forehead in a show of confusion and turmoil. "Am I even supposed to believe you now? You've lied to me so much, this could just be all part of something even bigger, couldn't it? I might never get to the bottom of this, just get picked up and swept along, just another battle casualty!"

"Lara!" Kurtis appeared directly behind her, hands squeezing her shoulders and forcing her to turn back to him. "It's the truth, I swear!"

"Is it?! How do I know that you're not just trying to save your little plan that I ruined when I escaped from the Periapt Complex?" Her eyes flashed angrily at him, her voice almost ranting.

"No!" His own voice contrasted with hers sharply as he begged her to believe him, pulling the hair out of his eyes to make clear, unobstructed eye contact with her, baring his soul in one intense, glittering azure gaze. "Lara, if I'd wanted to do that I could have just told Cheney all about our plan to steal the Tip once we got back to The Company and made out that it was all your idea and I was just going along with it to trap you for him! Shift all the blame on you and take it myself anyway! Come on, sweetheart, you have to believe me! I'm telling the truth! I am in big trouble here and I need your help!"

She returned his look for only a moment but then snatched herself away and pulled out of his hands where they were resting on her elbows, moving for the door, but Kurtis lunged forward and grabbed her arms again, shoving her painfully back into the corner of the room just a foot behind her.

"You're not going anywhere," he breathed menacingly, suddenly forceful in his desperation.

She stared back at him, eyes flaming, refusing to acknowledge the discomfort from his tight grasp. "Let go of me."

"You're not going anywhere," Trent repeated, holding her gaze with a look of his own that was even more menacing in its interruption from his dark strands of hair falling dangerously over his face. Lara wouldn't back down, not bothering to try and fight from her disadvantaged position but challenging him to keep her captive all the same. Her defiance reminded him just why he admired her so much, and he melted, unable to continue the hard line act around her.

"Lara," he sighed, relaxing into her and dropping his head to bring him closer to her height. He was rudely awakened when she took the chance to shove him off her, pushing him back against the wall and marching out of the room, braid swinging violently.

"Lara!" His voice was frustrated, angry, both with her and with himself, everything he was feeling at that moment. Spinning round, he aimed a punch at the wall, bringing his fist down on the plaster and denting it, pain shooting up through his arm.

"Fuck!"

"Here we are," Bryce announced, stopping at the bottom of some steps leading up to a grand yet modern plate glass set of double doors, the entrance to a very upmarket apartment building in the centre of Tokyo. He and Hillary climbed the steps and entered through the automatic doors. They nodded politely at the woman at the front desk, but she offered no resistance to their intrusion so they carried on towards the lifts and stopped at the polished golden doors as they waited for the lift to arrive.

"Let's hope he speaks English," said Hillary.

"Living in a place like this, he probably has his own translator," Bryce quipped, staring around the marble walls, art deco design and stark white lighting.

With a ding the lift arrived and the outer doors slid open, revealing a massive mirrored carriage that was so upmarket it didn't even have the fingerprints from daily use that so often mar a posh, otherwise well maintained area.

Bryce whistled in appreciation and stepped inside, turning slowly and taking in the grand surroundings.

"What floor?" Hillary asked, hand poised above the buttons.

"Erm…thirty five."

"That's…the penthouse suite," said Hillary, examining the available floors. His eyebrows raised and he regarded his partner in crime with a semi impressed look.

"Nice," said Bryce, nodding appreciatively.

Kurtis dashed out in pursuit of Lara, colliding with the guards on the door who were just picking themselves up from Lara's assault as she'd forced her way out. Shoving them out of his way, he ran after her, she already taking off around the corner.

"Lara!" he yelled.

She continued without regard, but he put everything into the chase and began to catch up with her, sprinting down the long narrow corridor uncaring for the slippery tiled surface that threatened to send him flying, the same impediment that was forcing Lara to run that tiny bit slower in an effort to escape without error.

"Lara!" he panted, leaning forward and reaching out for her arms that flailed at her sides as she fought to keep her balance. Her caught a wrist, leaving her skidding to a halt at the sudden pull on her body, thrashing her arm and aiming a punch to his stomach as she tried to escape.

They struggled against each other for a moment, oblivious to the environment around them, but they both suddenly stopped and stared up in horror as they each heard the familiar clicking of a multitude of semi automatic weapons being readied and aimed at them, Cheney standing behind his guards with a wry smile, hands clasped behind his back.

"Mr Trent, Lady Croft. We've located the leader of the Rebirth Cult. You leave in half an hour."