Right. (rubs hands together gleefully). Everything is about to be resolved in these final two chapters. You have No Idea how difficult this was to write, but the sense of achievement I got when I typed those final words, 'The End' was somewhere in the region of what I felt after a 24 hour marathon finishing off my final year research project for my degree, so you get my drift. Big thanks go out to Jo, without whose inspiration this chapter wouldn't have been nearly as exciting. I owe her a lot for the past two years.

Linzi - I'm really happy that my action writing has improved enough to get that review. :-) I've not seen The Da Vinci code myself, but I did take inspiration for the truck bit - from an episode of Early Edition. Yep, Hillary and Bryce have definately improved - just take a look at them in this chapter!
SilverDragon - Ahhh, what kind words! :-) I hope I do your addiction justice with the end.
Nickless - Yep, Kurtis was bad, but remember that he had a pretty sturdy motivation. And he's a lot better now, right? I do like Evil Kurtis though... And just for you, here's a mega long chapter.
Godavari - Welcome back!!! Glad you enjoyed the catch up!
Lady Lara Croft - Wow, what a great review! Thankyou!! You have no idea what a tough time I had coming up with a way to get them out of this one.
Teef - Yep, there have been a few winners on Takeshi's Castle. Only a few though. Usually a massive eruption of cheers when it finally occurs! I really should have put Craig Charles in this shouldn't I?! I'm so very happy that you're enjoying this so much.

Checkmate

The sign had said, 'To Let' and so, after checking that the place really was empty, Trent and Croft had broken into the first floor duplex apartment. Apparently empty for some time, it was dusty, dark and without water or electricity, though thankfully furnished.

Kurtis' seemingly inherent ability to have blondes fall at his feet had come in handy once again, he'd said, smug but joking, upon returning from the Seven-Eleven at the end of the road. Though without currency of any kind, he'd managed to pay for a bottle of water, snack foods and a small first aid kit with nothing but a smile, a wink, a promise that he'd drop by with the money later, and his phone number – for insurance against the loan only, of course. Lara had muttered something about easily led youngsters and disappeared into the kitchen get some cutlery and plates, generously included in the apartment's rent.

"You're just jealous," Kurtis called into the kitchen as he sat in the lounge and used one hand and his teeth to knot a bandage around the wound on his upper arm.

"And why would that be?" Lara's voice had replied, floating in through the doorway.

"Because men never chat you up with nothing but their natural charm and a romantic injury," Kurtis said dryly.

"Like you did with that air hostess on the plane back from Prague, you mean?" Lara appeared in the doorway and leant against the frame, brandishing a butter knife at him to illustrate her point. "I'm sorry? Did you say, 'charm'? I'd be insulted if they did." She turned and went back into the kitchen.

Kurtis, giving the bandage one final sharp tug with his teeth, grunted slightly at the pain and then stood, following her and imitating her own movements of leaning in the doorway. "And yet, secretly excited."

Lara snorted, spun round to shove a plate at him, turned back to do the same with his drink, and then balanced her own glass on her plate before picking it up and sweeping past him to go and sit down.

"Your hand ok?" Kurtis asked, noticing she was keeping its use to a minimum.

"I sprained it when we landed on the lorry. It's alright, it just twinges a bit when I put weight on it."

"You want me to bandage it? Support'll do it good."

"No, it's fine."

"Ok." Seemingly perfectly happy to accept that, he took a bite of his sandwich and leant back onto the sofa opposite Lara, staring around the room casually. Lara took the time to shoot an acidic glare his way, quickly turning it into a dazzling smile when his gaze came back to her.

"How cool is this?!" squeaked Bryce as he, Hillary, Takeshi and Akira sought their way through the crowds of thousands and thousands of people at the industry technology fair. It was packed; one could barely move for exhibits, salesmen and visitors. All around them monitors showed snazzy animations and demos touting their products and innovations, a cacophony of music, sound effects and excited chatters rose to the roof of the massive exhibition hall and a stage at the far end played host to the conference spots of all the companies represented, their presenters and performers playing their hyped up, big budget spectacles to an audience paying only a casual attention as it thronged, weaved and perused its way through the affair.

"It's…certainly…busy," Hillary managed to say as a million and one things vied for his attention. He pushed his way forward a few feet more and then said, "What's the excitement over a faster computer anyway? It'll only be too slow before the year's up." When no answer came he looked over to scold Bryce for ignoring him, but Bryce was gone, and so too were their two new Japanese friends. He turned, completing a full circle on the spot as he searched for the familiar face, but Bryce was nowhere to be seen. "Great," Hillary sighed, flapping his arms in exasperation as the crowd surged around him, himself only visible from above. "Just great."

Working between mouthfuls of food, Lara began to unpack the contents of her backpack and laythem out orderly on the floor.

"You said you had a wildcard?" she said.

"When I saved you from Reynard? Yeah, but it's useless now."

"What was it?"

"When I first got involved with The Company I figured it was a good idea to have some insurance. I dug up everything I could on them, which wasn't much. Found out that Cheney had a family that thought he was dead. He faked his death to keep them secret, keep them safe from people using them against him. I found out about them, I threatened to tell them the truth about him and then shoot them unless he left you alone."

"And you're sure we can't use that now?"

"For one thing, using that again would just prove to Cheney that we have no advantage over him, and give him the confidence to finish us. For another, I doubt his family are even in the same state they were before. He's bound to have had them moved somehow, away from me."

"Then what do you suppose we do?"

Kurtis looked thoughtful for a moment and then, realising something, patted his pocket and, finding what he was looking for, pulled out his PDA. He laid it in line with Lara's equipment and, smiling at her knowingly, said, "We need Bryce."

The sun had set and the cold had set in by the time Lara and Kurtis, after covering their tracks, had set off and walked down to the shopping district of the suburb. It had been raining, and the wind blew small ripples in the black puddles sliced across with streaks of amber reflecting from the streetlights. A few people milled about here and there, but no-one really took any notice of the two fugitives as they strolled along, discussing their plan quietly with their arms hugged around themselves for warmth, their hair playing about their eyes eliciting frequent tosses of the head to dislodge the annoyances.

"Bryce hates your guts," said Lara, a statement in the middle of their conversation that had been going since they'd started out.

"Ah come on, we were good friends."

Lara raised her eyes skywards as if trying to remember something. "I believe he's currently working on a plan to track you down using a spy satellite and then bounce a deadly laser off it to reduce you to ashes where you stand."

Kurtis blinked.

"All right, then," he said, quickly regaining his composure after that little revelation, "you talk to him."

A few steps more took them to a public phone box, its harsh light spilling out and illuminating the two as they stepped into the shelter of the box, arranging themselves to fit. Lit strongly against the dimmer glow of the streetlights, they were clearly visible across the street as Lara, dialling in for a reverse charges international call, looked up to Kurtis and smiled, nodding her head and saying something that was inaudible to the observer hiding in the shadows across the street. Kurtis grinned back, latching some sort of crocodile clip wire from his PDA onto the phone cord, and Lara laughed, placing the receiver to her ear.

Regarding them curiously, the shadowy observer began to turn and walk away, disappearing into blackness as he retreated quickly into a dark, rubbish filled alley.

The phone vibrated in his pocket and Bryce clapped his hand to his side as he realised that someone was calling him. Fishing it out, he let out a sigh of relief – it wasn't registering Lara as the caller. How he'd explain the background noise, he didn't know.

"Hello?"

"Bryce!"

Oh god, it was Lara.

When he didn't respond as he was frozen somewhat with dread, Lara tried again, "Bryce?!"

"L-Lara!" Bryce got out, regaining composure enough to sound as unconcerned as possible. "Lara, how are you?"

"Bryce, I need your hel – what's going on?"

"What do you mean?" Bryce shouted back over the noise he was pretending didn't exist.

"Why am I calling my house and yet hearing a positive riot of foreigners and video games?"

Damn. Think fast. Think fast. Think fast. "Um…I'm at the Tokyo Games Show. I forwarded house calls to my mobile." Yes, Bryce, wonderful explanation. Tell her the truth, why don't you?

"And what are you doing at the Tokyo Games Show?"

Bryce paused, looking guiltily to the side and then back again. "Me and Hillary may have decided to take a bit of a holiday whilst you were in London. Last minute Travelocity thing."

"Oh. Alright." Praise the Lord, she wasn't angry. "Bryce, listen, we need your help. First, there's a bit of a ca – "

"We?" Bryce interrupted, suddenly noticing Hillary was missing. For a moment he thought Lara meant herself and the butler, and that Hillary, the scheming little toad, had buggered off to tell Lara the whole story, but then he realised that they were on completely different continents and the whole idea was preposterous, and he let out a snatched breath with a sigh.

"Myself and…Kurtis," Lara finished, sounding apprehensive, and with good reason, for at that name Bryce exploded.

"Kurtis?!" he screamed into the phone, forgetting where he was. At his sudden outburst a couple of visitors moving past him started, shooting him strange looks, but quickly carried on to leave the strange Westerner to his phone call.

"Now, Bryce, calm down," Lara began, but she was cut off as he launched into his tirade.

"What the hell are you doing with him again, Lara? He tried to kill you, remember? Or is that alright?"

"Bryce, this isn't the time."

"No? When is the time? When I've got to comfort you all over again after he's endangered your life and run off without a second glance again? When I have to stay up all night with you watching you cry over him and his actions again? When I've got to put up with you wallowing in self pity over the loss of your precious kindred spirit again?"

"Bryce!" Lara cried, trying to make him listen to her, but he continued on.

"No, Lara! No bloody way!"

"Bryce!" Lara bellowed, demanding his attention. This time he listened. "We will talk about this later. Right now, I need your help. You're my employee, and I'm telling you that you will shut up, you will help me, and we will talk about this later."

"No, Lara, I'm your friend. And yes, we will talk about this later. Now," said Bryce grudgingly, "what do you need?"

"First – we have a bit of a cash flow problem. And then – well, I just hope you can help us now you're not at the mansion, because then, we need something bloody spectacular."

"Lara," Bryce sighed in resignation, unhappy that he'd have to condone Lara's alliance with Trent by helping them, "Lara, I'm surrounded by the world's most advanced, state of the art, cutting edge technology that hasn't even hit the market yet. From here, I can do bloody anything."

Hillary had been looking for Bryce for half an hour. It took Bryce half a minute to find Hillary as he said goodbye to Lara after formulating with her, and indirectly and grudgingly with Kurtis, what could only be described as a 'cunning plan'.

"Hilly!" Bryce shouted, appearing behind the butler. Startled, Hillary turned to see Bryce ending a call on his mobile phone, looking down as he locked the keypad. Finishing, he looked back up to his travelling companion and spoke.

"Lara just called."

Hillary looked critically back and asked, "Did you tell her we were in Tokyo?"

"Well, she did wonder why there was apparently a load of Japanese tourists in her house, yeah. Look, she's in Las Vegas, she's with that bastard Trent, and they're in trouble. Now as much as I would like to leave him to get shot, tortured and killed, I'm under strict orders to get the both of them out of the sorry mess they've gone and got themselves into. I'll explain on the way, but right now we need Akira and we need to go and take a look at the new ultra speed internet connection demonstration which is over there." Bryce pointed as he spoke his last words, and then marched off to go and get started on his big rescue mission, leaving Hillary behind gaping in confusion.

A rustle of clothing as someone shouldered a weapon. A soft click as the safety was released. A sigh as the assassin calmed himself, steadying his aim.

"Target locked," he said into a small microphone attached to an earpiece – standard Company communication devices.

"Hold position," came the reply in his ear.

He did as he was told, watching the magnified image through his electronic sight. Croft was replacing the receiver and Trent was unplugging a couple of wires from a small hand held device, wrapping them around his hand into tidy coils and shoving them into his pocket. His hand came back out towards the device again, knocking Croft's on the way, and she flinched, wincing.

The observer felt no sympathy at her injury, or joy that it could be an advantage to his side. He simply remained motionless, waiting for instruction, breathing slowly and calmly.

Starting as he realised he had hurt her, Trent dropped the PDA onto the shelf of the phone box and took up her hand, massaging it and saying something to her with a smile. She smiled back, allowing him to minister to her. Holding her hand in his for a moment, he asked her a question. She nodded, her hand was allowed to drop, and they started out of the phone booth.

"Target moving," the man said. "Do I shoot?"

A slight pause, the targets moving further and further towards the edge of the man's line of sight.

"Negative," was the answer. "They scrambled the line, we have no idea what that call was about. More intelligence required. Abort mission."

The weapon was dropped.

"Will it take him long?" Kurtis asked.

"I don't know," Lara replied. "He's never done this for me before."

As if to add its own comment, the ATM by which the two were waiting clicked, and then whirred as it rolled out two hundred dollars cash.

Lara smiled, plucking up the wad of notes and leafing through it with a smile. "Thankyou, Bryce," she said to the air. "Who'd have thought it was possible to hack a cash machine into paying out money?"

The cash was snatched out of her hand and, startled, she looked up to find herself staring straight into the black hole of a pistol silencer, Kurtis behind it grinning evilly.

"Who'd have thought it possible that anybody could be as gullible as you?"

Unseen, the man watched as Kurtis mashed his hand over Lara's mouth, her muffled cries unheard by anyone else as she was dragged backwards, kicking and struggling, across the deserted street and was swallowed up by the darkness of a quiet, foreboding alley.

"There's been a development," the man said into his mouthpiece.

"Now what?" Hillary asked, looking over Bryce's shoulder as he sat eating a sandwich in front of the demonstration computer at the high speed wireless connection exhibit. Beside him sat Akira and Takeshi, fully indoctrinated into the proceedings and lending help where they could, Akira providing back up in the hacking proceedings.

"Now we wait until they use that phone," Bryce replied, casually munching away.

"Do you think they'll be long?"

"Well, let's just say that it's a good job that this exhibition is open all night."

Well after midnight, the streets of the suburb were now devoid of any movement of any kind. In that part of town, not even night owls driving their cars to other places had business to draw them through there, so Kurtis did not have to bother disguising his actions as he hustled his captive into the phone box in which they had earlier joked so good naturedly, shoved her painfully into a corner, and pushed hard on her shoulder with one hand to keep her in place as he wedged himself against the door to doubly ensure she did not escape. There was only one person out there with them, and Kurtis didn't need to treat Lara well for him.

He reached out and picked up the receiver, jabbed a number in with his index finger, and waited as it rang.

The line was picked up wordlessly and, blinking towards the floor, he spoke to the silent operator on the other end, his words short and sharp, his tone demanding.

"Kurtis Trent. Get me Cheney."

The computer beeped, startling Lara's four rescuers who were beginning to doze off at their station after almost three hours of eventless waiting.

A quick glance confirmed to Bryce what the noise had suggested, and he and Akira flew into action, fingers tripping lightly and expertly over the keyboard as they began to work.

"That's it, we're in. Tracing the call now," he announced proudly to Hillary.

"Right," the butler replied, deciding to do what he knew best. "Takeshi – we need to go and get some coffee."

Cheney stalked down the corridors, wordlessly daring anyone coming the opposite way to get close to him. He was not happy.

"Sir!"

At the sound of someone addressing him, he stopped and spun round to glare furiously at the young agent dashing towards him waving an earpiece. "Sir!" she panted, coming to a halt and holding out the equipment, "It's Trent, Sir. He's got Croft and he wants to come back in."

The first rays of sunrise were beginning to brighten the sky, turning it from a deep black to yellowish grey, with a promise of a beautiful red dawn to come.

Bound and gagged, Lara stood meekly by, her posture contrasting sharply with the determined, formal, confident figure of Kurtis next to her. His hands were clasped loosely behind his back and his legs were apart in a firm stance as, with a raised chin giving an air of derision, he regarded the unmarked black Land Cruisers pulling up ahead. Their tyres rolled smoothly over the empty tarmac of the back-street garage lot with the sound of rubber on wet, and then jerked slightly as the brakes were harshly applied.

Trent's head dropped, his line of vision now cutting menacingly underneath the hair falling around his face as the doors to the vehicles were swung open and nine men and two women stepped out, all dressed in their usual black combat gear. Marcus was one of them, greeting Trent with a wary nod of the head and eyeing Lara suspiciously as he came to stand next to their leader – Cheney.

"The Tip?" Cheney asked, voice raised to carry across the fifteen feet between them.

"Safe," Kurtis replied.

"So what are your demands?" Cheney said, impatient.

"You give me two million dollars and assurance that you'll let me go, I give you Lara and the location of the Tip."

"How about I have you surrounded, you tell me where the Tip is, and then I have you both shot?" Cheney's minions raised their weapons, clicking into readiness, and Kurtis glanced down to see eleven red sights dancing across his torso.

Remaining calm, he looked back up and said, "I don't call that being surrounded."

In answer Cheney only smiled amusedly and circled his finger, indicating that Kurtis should turn round. He did, only to be met by the soft red line of an infra-red sight viewed at an angle, extrapolating back to a point right between his eyes. Gasping almost inaudibly at the unexpected presence, Kurtis strained his eyes to see the source and just managed to make out the dark shadow of the assassin that had been following them all night. Sighing loudly as though irritated, Trent turned back to Cheney, taking on a casual stance.

"I don't think so. You see – " His arm darted out and wrapped around the front of Lara's shoulders, pulling her to him as a shield to the frontal attack, and his Boron X pressed forcefully into the side of her head. "The Tip is in a safe that can only be opened with Lady Croft's iris print. And I don't hold out much hope for those pretty eyes of hers after a point blank shot to the temple, do you?"

Cheney laughed quietly, motioning to his men to keep their sights trained. "I don't buy you, Mr Trent. I don't buy you at all." He began to stroll forward, closer to his opponent. "I know about your original plan to steal the Tip before I sent you after Gero. I know your motivations. I know your feelings. I know full well that you are up to something. You expect me to believe that you'd suddenly give up on your mission to take the Tip under your protection and instead sell it to me knowing full well that I only intend to use it to bargain and threaten my way through Company business? You expect me to believe that Croft means so little to you that you'd use her like this? No. You want that Tip and that woman for redemption."

Kurtis' expression wavered for a moment before returning to its original tenacious, cold stare. To emphasise his conviction, the gun was pressed even harder into Lara's temple, and her eyes screwed shut in a moment of pain, her own countenance fully convincing in its fear.

"Yeah, well, there aren't exactly that many Lux Veritatis left in whose eyes I can be redeemed, and two million dollars is a lot of money. And Lara? She just gets in my way, clouds my judgement. I won't say it won't pain me to get rid of her, but I'm better off without her."

A muffled scream of defiance and rage escaped from Lara and she tore herself free from Kurtis' grasp, rushing forward towards Cheney on a collision course. Reacting, he jumped back, narrowly escaping her path as she continued to barrel onwards, doing her best to escape in her restricted situation.

"Second team!" Marcus yelled, and five of the sights previously trained on Kurtis rushed over to centre themselves on his escaped prisoner, easily chasing her movements as she fought to run and remain upright without the balancing aid of her arms, tied behind her back. Thankfully, the teams knew better than to fire without warning, and the red dots did nothing more than follow her, illuminating her in the early morning gloom.

Apparently panicking at the sudden loss of his leverage, Kurtis turned and bolted, dashing towards the shadows of the fence surrounding the area, picking up speed fast to try and climb it.

"I want them alive!!" Cheney screamed, desperate not to lose his only links to the Periapt Tip.

"Accost!" was Marcus' responding order. Two members of the second team dashed forward, quickly gaining on Lara who was still running. The second member caught up with her first and tackled, bringing them both to the ground with a heavy thud, the remaining members of the team hurrying over to assist in her detention and cover her with their weapons.

The noisy pounding of six pairs of feet came rushing up behind Kurtis, gaining rapidly as he reached the high fence and leapt up to grab onto its top, one foot planting at knee height to push himself upwards. He was halfway through his rise when a single shot rang out and the wood in front of his face shattered, exploding in debris of splinters. He cried out as the shards blew up in his face, cutting his skin and embedding themselves in his flesh, and fell, landing painfully on his back on the tarmac, opening his thankfully uninjured eyes to see six agents staring down at him along their weapon sights. Groaning in pain and defeat, he rolled onto all fours and staggered to his feet, looking over to see the lone assassin standing some distance away, calmly returning his look. "Hollow point bullet," he said to Kurtis by way of explanation, and then turned, strolling towards the cars.

Kurtis sighed again, following the man with his eyes until his line of vision hit upon Lara being held securely some distance away, struggling half-heartedly. His view was blocked by Cheney coming to stand in front of him, staring into Kurtis' eyes. Cheney's own narrowed, trying to sort the truth from the lies. At last, he voiced a conclusion. "No. No, you're trying to confuse me. You expect me to believe that you can't put up a better fight than that? Of course you don't. For some reason, this poor show of deception is your way of getting back into The Company and keeping yourselves alive at the same time. I'm inclined to end it all now and just have you both shot, but you're clever and you know that I can't do that just yet." He sighed, confused. "Alright," he called to his men. "Load them in the cars, we're taking them back in. Keep a very close eye on them."

Lara was roughly led away, Trent was handcuffed and blindfolded, and, a gun trained on each of them, they were pushed into the cars.

"Is that them?" Hillary asked, looking over Bryce's shoulder at a camera feed playing on the computer screen. It showed a dim, deserted underground car park surrounded by doorways, two black Land Cruisers entering down a ramp from the surface on the far side, blocking the dawning light spilling down from the open.

"Yep," said Bryce.

"And you're sure you're ready? Everything's sorted?"

Bryce looked to Akira and Hillary followed his eyes, giving their accomplice a questioning look. "Yes," Akira said confidently, "everything is ready."

The Land Cruiser stopped and Cheney and his agents got out first before Lara and Kurtis were pulled from their seats, stumbling down to the ground and looking over to see the inhabitants of the other car disembarking coolly and easily.

"I don't suppose you'll make this easy on yourselves and just tell me what's going on?" Cheney asked, coming to stand in front of his prisoners.

Lara, now freed of her gag, smirked and said, "Oh, I think the man with the answers is on the other side of that door." She gestured to their entrance and Cheney glanced over, a wry chuckle escaping him.

"You mean Reynard? Yes, I think you're probably right."

Lara didn't answer, just looking down to the ground to hide a smile. Kurtis was rather more open with his expression, grinning and nodding towards to the door as he said, "Shall we?"

Cheney smiled, sure that he still had the upper hand. "Of course."

They reached the doors and Marcus stepped forwards to swipe his ID. Cheney standing in front, Lara and Kurtis to either side and slightly behind, the soldiers bringing up the rear, Cheney adjusted his stance to one of confidence and power, ready to present himself to his employees on the other side.

The door slid open and the smile on the Company leader's face fell away, in direct contrast to the one that appeared on the face of the man now standing in front him.

"Sergei?" Cheney asked, bewildered. His eyes trailed upwards to the balcony overlooking the entrance corridor, where the other five members of the Company oversight committee stood, staring down forebodingly.

"Been looking for this?"Sergei asked, and his hand emerged from behind his back to hold up the Periapt Tip, sparkling mockingly in the electric lights.

Cheney's mouth fell open, speechless. "But," he began, but a female voice of Chinese accent cut in from up above.

"You were denied permission to pursue that solution, James."

"It was the only way," James Cheney protested, stuttering his defence.

"You obtained the Periapt Tip, sent these civilians in to eradicate your cult problem, getting Mr Trent killed in the process, and then stole it away for your own unauthorised use in future negotiations, before trying to have these innocents murdered," a third voice said.

"No! I didn't steal it! They did!"

A fourth voice broke in. "The Tip was found in a bank safe in the next town, locked to your iris print."

"No! You don't understand – "

"We understand," said a fifth voice.

"Very much so," continued the sixth and final. "I'm sure that you'll also understand." He nodded down to Marcus, who seamlessly accepted the change of management and stepped forward, raising his weapon to his former commander.

"Lead the way, please, Sir," Marcus said, nodding in the direction of the containment cells.

Cheney was stunned. He shook his head, his mouth open in shock. "No, I – "

"Sir," Marcus insisted.

Cheney blinked, realising his defeat. Turning to Lara and Kurtis he asked, "How?"

Kurtis spoke, his voice low so that only he, Lara and Cheney could hear. "When I called in to tell you I wanted to deal, Lara's tech, Bryce – you remember him from the briefing I gave you on Lara – used the line to locate and break into Company systems. From there he tracked down communications to the oversight board, sent them a message telling them your plan, and let them decide how to act on it."

"And the real Tip?" Cheney asked, knowing instinctively that the one in Sergei's hands was fake.

"Safe," said Lara. "That one is glass, made to order at a very reasonable price by one of Kurtis' contacts and placed in a locker then programmed with your iris print lifted from the Company personnel database by Bryce."

Cheney nodded slowly, accepting defeat. "Well played," he said simply.

And then he turned and walked proudly away, head raised, towards his fate.

Not quite over yet...a little epilogue is only a mouse click away.