Chapter 9: Galleries under Siege

Marten Gunderson marched down the Grande Galerie, holding a gas mask in his right hand. The war veteran didn't pay any attention to the Italian masterpieces hanging on the walls. He had never been interested in any other art than the art of bloodshed.

Through the decades, Gunderson had fought in countless conflicts world-wide. He now ran a mercenary recruitment service simply known as "The Agency", providing specialized forces for anything from basic security to invasions. Tonight, they were working for their most powerful clients yet – Master Eckhardt and his infamous Cabal.

"Take the rear door," Gunderson spoke into his radio.

On the roof of the Louvre, two of his soldiers immediately obeyed. The men were wearing dark blue uniforms that left everything to the imagination. Their faces were concealed by black gas masks, and their gloved hands clutched the latest automatic weapons. As silent as their shadows, they snuck up to the nearest vent duct.

"Employ gas."

One of them ripped the cover aside, while the other flung a gas grenade into the opening. The canister clattered into the maze of metal shafts, spreading its green smoke through the ventilation system.

"Stay sharp. Swing to sector A9."

Two soldiers in the Salle des Etats were hanging from thick ropes under the ceiling. An ordinary security guard paced the hall below, blissfully ignorant of the infiltration. The soldiers swung 180 degrees to hang upside-down like sleeping bats. Meanwhile, the gas seeped into the hall through the vent duct above Mona Lisa.

"Mon Dieu," the guard managed to breathe before collapsing into unconsciousness.

"Use double sweeps, watch the blind spots. Fan out and keep low," Gunderson commanded, entering the Salle des Etats. The soldiers slid to the floor with quick, skilled movements. "OK, maintain radio silence."

Gunderson held a small GPS system out to the soldiers. The screen displayed a ground plan of the museum building, semi-legally dowloaded from the Louvre security register. Two dots, a green one marked C and a red one marked T, blinked in different areas of the map – C at the end of the Grande Galerie and T somewhere beneath 'Toilettes Publiques Messieurs'.

"You have your targets," Gunderson said. "Move out."

---

With a deafening crash, the plastic explosives detonated and the ceiling of the sewer collapsed. A bright yellow beam descended from the room above, illuminating the dingy sewer. Kurtis Trent switched his flashlight off and climbed through the opening.

He emerged in a deserted public toilet. Polished black and white tiles surrounded the gap in the floor. The row of mirrors reflected the man's tired visage. He walked up to the sink and splashed cold water on his face. Then, he made a beeline for the door to the gallery hallway.

Producing a 9mm semi-automatic, Kurtis pushed the door half-open and peeked out. The hallway was filled with a thick mist of dark green gas. A few security guards lay unconscious on the floor. "Looks like they've started the party without me," Kurtis thought and ran down the hallway, holding his breath.

---

"Got to find a gas mask, quick!"

The poisonous air snapped at Lara's eyes and flooded them with warm tears while she rushed down the labyrinth of galleries. Numerous questions plagued her mind, but they could all be summed up in one sentence: "What the fuck has happened here?" Where was all this teargas coming from? Who the hell were these SWAT-like soldiers in the dark blue uniforms, and why were they after her?

Another commando stood guarding the door at the end of the gallery. Lara crept up behind him and wrapped her arms around his head. A loud crack echoed through the gallery as she twisted his neck around.

Lara sprinted on through the next gallery, but froze when the skylight in the middle of the high ceiling was suddenly shattered. A rope fell from the roof and a nimble commando slid down to land on the floor, aiming his Mag Vega on the woman.

"Damn, these guys are good. But not good enough," Lara thought as she pulled out her K2 Impactor. The electric weapon was effective at ranges up to 21 feet. Lara squeezed the trigger, and twin probes enveloped the man's body with a bluish glow. For a second, he stood paralyzed while 50,000 volt crushed his system. Hot smoke rose from his corpse as it fell to the floor.

Lara proceeded up a stairwell, taking three steps at a time. The familiar smell of dusty plaster told her that she was back in the lab wing. Lara burst into the corridor with Carvier's office at the end. Yet another commando was patrolling the hallway, but Lara shocked him with the K2 before he could fire a single bullet.

The first workroom on the right was filled with paintings under restoration and empty frames. Lara knocked down a few easels and palettes as she rushed up to a cabinet in the back. It contained two gas masks used to protect the staff from dangerous fumes during restoration processes. Lara ripped the cabinet open and donned one of the respirators.

---

In the Grande Galerie, Gunderson stood leaned against a pillar and watched the green dot on his GPS screen. Miss Croft had proved to be a somewhat worthy opponent. During the last ten minutes, she had zapped several of The Agency's best soldiers on her way to the restoration wing. Gunderson watched the green dot move into one of the workrooms, where it paused at the back wall.

"The museum's respirators," Gunderson muttered. "Clever girl."

"She's still loose," he spoke into his radio. "Take her out."

---

Lara ran down a 20 feet wide staircase and through another hallway. All these corridors and galleries were so very much alike, and she didn't have time to stop and study the maps. The surreal fog of teargas wasn't making things less bewildering, either. She felt like she had been running around in circles for aeons …

"I'm lost. Lara Croft, world-renowned archaeologist, lost in a museum. The irony's killing me."

The bemused woman burst into a gallery with crimson walls and the usual parquet floor. To her right, long rows of display cases were lined up, containing pieces of Greek armour, shields and jars.

Suddenly, a yellow light came flying towards her. Lara barely dodged the glowing object as it flew by a few inches from her chest. She spun around, pistol at the ready, but the object's flight had already come to an abrupt halt. The flying disc was half-buried horizontally in the wall. It looked like a metallic frisbee, about three and a half inches in diameter. Silvery blades jutted out along its circumference. "If that's the weapon … where's the wielder?"

The building had become eerily silent now. Lara's eyes darted around as she walked backwards with slow, stealthy footsteps.

But those footsteps came to an abrupt halt when a 9mm muzzle was pressed against the back of her neck. Lara's breath caught in her throat, and she lowered her pistol with shaking hands. She tried turning her head to see the assailant. This only resulted in the muzzle being pressed harder against her neck. Lara quickly turned her head away, but she had managed to get a glimpse of pale skin and stubble, though.

"Then it can't be one of the commandos. And all the museum guards are unconscious from the gas …"

The man's left hand came to rest on her shoulder and slid down her gooseflesh-covered arm. It stopped at her own hand and took the pistol from her limp fingers, tossing it to the floor. Lara's initial shock and dread was replaced by frustration and a deep hatred for the unseen man frisking her. "Who the hell does he think he is?!"

The hand slid across her stomach and removed the Desert Ranger from her right hip holster. The gun clattered onto the polished floor next to her K2 Impactor. Now fully disarmed, Lara frowned and dug her nails into her palms.

Lastly, the strange hand opened her backpack and pulled out the Obscura painting. Lara's nails were nearly piercing the skin of her palms now. "That's my painting, bastard!"

The pistol muzzle suddenly left her neck. Lara whirled around to face the thief. Her dark brown orbs locked onto blue eyes with strands of brown, stringy hair falling into them. The pistol was shoved against her neck again, but Lara didn't feel as intimidated as before. Instead, she felt completely astonished, for the brown-haired man was the same guy she had seen in the corner of Café Metro. The biker from Cours la Seine. The man sitting by the river when she jumped out of the exploding pawnshop …

New questions filled her mind. "What's he doing here? Whose side is he on? What does he want the Obscura painting for?"

The stranger slowly backed away, still training the semi-automatic on the woman's chest. The razorsharp disc to Lara's right started glowing again and flew out of the wall, spinning horizontally through the air like a lethal frisbee. It whizzed onto the man's outstretched hand, his fingers sliding into five holes in the middle of the bronze disc. "So he was the wielder …"

"There they are – fire!" barked a male voice across the room. Lara glanced to her right and saw a bald, strongly built man – "must be the chief commander" - standing next to a soldier armed with a Mag Vega. The man with the flying disc spun around and ran out of harm's way. Lara's instinct told her to follow him.

The soldier obeyed Gunderson, and a deafening roar of SMG-fire tore the calm silence to shreds. Lara dashed across the room, display cases shattering behind her. She could almost feel the heat of the bullets whizzing by a few centimetres from her back …

"Skit," Gunderson cursed in his native language. Both targets had gotten out of sight and fled down a hallway. "After them."

---

Numerous footsteps echoed through the Grande Galerie, as Lara and the strange man sprinted from the horde of soldiers behind them. Two locked double doors waited in the middle of the far wall. The man held out a stiff palm, as if pushing them open despite the 10-feet distance between his hand and the wooden surface.

Contrary to what common laws of physics would tell us, the doors not only opened, but actually went flying right off their hinges. "The fuck?!" Lara blurted out as she followed the apparently telekinetic man through the doorway.

The narrow room beyond only contained a huge Chinese gong, which hung on the wall next to another doorway. The man swung his weird disc up at the rope suspending the gong, and the blades swiftly cut through it. The Chinese disc fell to the marble floor and started rolling sideways, toward the doorway. The lethal frisbee returned to its wielder's hand, and he turned around to train it on Lara's throat.

The woman froze on the spot, warm blades pressing against her Adam's apple. She stared at the man with a mix of dread and anger on her face – dread because she could get decapitated there and then, anger because the assailant had taken her guns and stolen her painting.

The man gave a wry smile and ran off through the doorway. Relief washed over Lara, but she could still hear the soldiers gaining on her through the Grande Galerie. Meanwhile, the Chinese gong was slowly, but surely rolling into the corner to block the doorway. Lara slipped through, but a commando behind her wasn't so lucky. Pinned between the gong and the doorframe, his ribcage was crushed under the immense pressure.

Gunderson walked up to the blocked doorway and glared at the thick, ancient disc of bronze. The artifact effectively prevented him from following his targets down the hallway beyond. "I hate museums." A deep echo rang through the galleries as Gunderson's fist connected with the gong.

---

Lara ran down the cramped hallway and turned a corner to find the strange man sitting on a steel banister. He waved slightly before letting himself fall backwards, down the stairwell. Lara dashed up to the banister and looked down in time to see him land unscathed on the bottom floor. He scrambled to his feet and vanished through a doorway. "That was a four storey drop! How the hell did he survive?!"

Lara rushed down the stairs, taking as many steps at a time as possible. Her booted feet clanked against the steel steps for 15 seconds, until she was only a couple of metres above the floor. She vaulted over the banister and tore along through the doorway. 'SORTIE/EXIT' proclaimed the sign above.

Rain poured from the night sky hanging ominously over the desolate alley outside. The strange guy lay unconscious on the asphalt, face down in a puddle. "Muggers." Lara smirked and approached the man to retrieve her painting and …

-SMACK-

A Mag Vega connected with the back of Lara's head, and the unconscious woman collapsed to the asphalt next to Kurtis Trent. One of the Agency's commandos towered above the slumbering duo for a few seconds, admiring his handiwork.

Suddenly, his entire appearance transformed in the blink of an eye. His gas mask vanished and was replaced by a tanned face with sunglasses. His dark blue uniform turned into civilian clothes – black trousers and vest over a red sweater. Gold chains hung from his neck. He had effortlessly changed into the shape of Bouchard's Doorman.

The man slipped the Obscura painting into his pocket and sauntered down the rainy alley.

---

A/N: Yeah, I wasn't sure how to describe Lara's last movements before getting knocked cold. In the game, it kinda looked like she was about to break Kurtis' neck, but that would be pretty out-of-character - killing someone in their sleep because they frisked you? Mean!Lara. So I just left that sentence unfinished and cut it off with Karel hitting her …