Chapter 14: Sceletons in the closet
Lara followed the spiral staircase beneath the apartment, her booted feet noiselessly prowling down the marble steps. At the bottom, she found a bland basement study with four display cases lined up in the middle. The closest one to her right contained a yellow scrap of parchment from the 14th century. A single Latin sentence was scribbled on it: 'Tres Periapti coniuncti cum iustitiae igne mala cingunt.'
"The three Periapts joined together burn with righteous light to confine evil," Lara translated.
The far left display case contained a figurine of a winged, muscular being with its head bowed in melancholy. The caption read: 'Cubiculum Nephili – The Sleeper. A stone cask buried somewhere in Turkey. This is reputed to contain the last remains of the extinct Nephilim race. According to a few 15th century legends, there were originally three Sleepers, but two were destroyed by the Lux Veritatis order.'
A fax lay in front of Vasiley's desk at the back wall. Lara walked up to the paper and picked it up to study Vasiley's message: 'Mlle Carvier, please refer to website SHADOWWHISTORIES.PR to access restricted information. Type Code 31597.'
Behind the desk, a large abstract painting hung on the wall. White, black and reddish shapes covered the canvas. A keypad with digits was set in the wall to the right of the painting. Lara punched in the code from the fax and watched with a wry smirk as the painting slid to the left, revealing an opening in the wall behind it. A small paper with a detailed map drawn across it rested in the opening – the fifth Obscura engraving.
"Well, that was almost too easy," Lara mused and took the engraving, running her eyes over the map. It looked like a maze of tunnels with a round vault in the middle and a rectangular hall farther up. A few Latin words were scrawled around the map, with arrows pointing to different parts of the complex: 'Obscura Pictura', 'Foveae', 'Lux Veritatis Bellatoris'.
Lara tucked the engraving into her trouser pocket and walked through the study, back up the spiral staircase. The apartment's main hall was a gallery and library combined, full of paintings and epic poems from the 13- and 1400's. Alas, Lara didn't have time to examine the impressive collections. She walked across the hall and stepped through the door to the first floor study, where she'd left Bouchard handcuffed to the radiator.
"Bouchard, I found the fifth … oh, hell no."
The Victorian chair had been abandoned by its French occupant. The handcuffs hung empty from the radiator. Bouchard was nowhere to be seen.
"Great," Lara muttered, pulling out her Rigg 09. She crept through the room and down the short corridor with Picasso and Van Gogh prints on the walls. The wooden, painted-white door in the left wall was closed. Blood dripped from a crimson stain on the brass knob. Clutching the pistol in her right hand, Lara reached out her shaking left hand and turned the knob …
The door creaked open, and Bouchard's corpse fell out of the closet. It landed on the hallway floor with a sickening thud. Lara instinctively trained her pistol on the man's head, but all life had clearly left the body. Numerous stab wounds pervaded the Mafioso's back.
"What the hell's going on around here!" Lara yelled. She crouched down and checked his pulse, but the beat had stopped at least half an hour ago. "That's impossible! I just talked to this guy twenty minutes ago!"
A small key had fallen out of the man's coat pocket. Lara picked up the key and read the tag: 'CELLAR DOOR'.
The confused woman walked down the stairway to the basement and used the key to unlock the red door. Pondering what had just happened in the building behind her, she stepped out to a wide alley and closed the door. The sky above Prague was slowly changing colour, from the afternoon's cold shade of grey to the twilight's bluish darkness. Streetlights cast a yellow light on the snow concealing the asphalt.
A familiar journalist waited at the opposite wall of the alley, reading a newspaper. Lara walked up to Luddick and noticed that he was skimming an article on the Monstrum killings, with a photo of the main suspect Lara Croft next to the small paragraphs of the Czech article. Luddick gazed up from the newspaper photo at the woman before him. "You're famous," he dryly commented.
Lara sighed. "I was framed."
"Is there a story in this for me?" Luddick said.
Lara answered with a question: "Did you get me the Strahov code?"
The reporter gave a little grin of self-satisfaction. "I told you, I'm a professional. But I want the exclusive story – events in Paris and whatever happens here."
"Done."
"This pass code will get you into the warehouse area." Luddick produced an access card with a six-digit code and handed it to Lara, who promptly buried it in the pickpocket-safe depths of her backpack. "It's only a low level pass, but at least you'll be inside the complex."
Lara nodded, "I can take it from there. Have you tried this code yourself?"
"Me?" Luddick's eyes widened with fear. "Ne! The place gives me the creeps. Workers have gone missing, and all kinds of spooky stuff."
"What goes on in there?" Lara said, interest piqued.
"God knows! I'd give my innards to find out. But it's way too gothic for me. If you uncover anything, give me first shot at it, eh?"
"Sure thing," Lara lied.
"I also got this," Luddick pulled out a Viper SMG and handed the silvery machine gun to Lara. "It could come in handy. The Strahov is one weird place."
"A handy machine pistol, with gas punch reloader!" Lara beamed like a little girl contemplating her presents under the Christmas tree.
"No invasion force should be without one," Luddick said.
"How much?"
"800 Euro."
"Gimme a break," Lara said, clenching her hands into fists. "How would I be carrying around that kind of money!"
Luddick hid the SMG in his coat again. "Seller's market, I'm afraid."
"I ought to just take it, you runt," Lara grumbled under her breath. "Choke on it!"
"What?"
"Nothing. Let's talk in the car."
Luddick led the way through the alley, back to the square. His red vehicle was still parked at the opposite sidewalk. He produced the key and opened the driver's seat door. "The Strahov isn't far."
-
Lara sat next to the journalist as he carefully drove down the icy streets of the Czech metropolis. The apartment facades from Vasiley's district were soon replaced by the factories and office-buildings of the industrial centre. The clock in the dashboard revealed that the time was 17:15 PM. "I found Bouchard in Vasiley's house," Lara said, for the sake of breaking the silence.
Luddick nodded. "I saw him walking out of there."
"What!" Lara burst out. "He died in that house!"
"How can you be so sure?"
"Luddick, I found his corpse in a closet," Lara said, frustrated.
"Oh. Well, maybe it was some other guy walking out. He disappeared down an alley before I could get a good look at him," Luddick admitted. "I just thought I recognized the clothes, that's all."
"When did this happen?"
"About twenty minutes before you came out from the cellar."
Lara sighed and leaned back in her seat. Luddick had sounded pretty sure he'd seen Bouchard. The woman closed her eyes, ruminating. "Everytime I think I've figured this whole thing out, some new piece just gets added to the puzzle …"
She opened her eyes and stared out the windshield at the mid-air dance of the snowflakes. The huge, compelling Prazsky Hrad castle loomed over the distant Malá Strana. "Okay, tell me about the Cabal," Lara said. She rummaged through the papers in the glove compartment and found a photo of a blonde guy in his late thirties, sitting in a concert hall. "Who's he?"
"Joachim Karel. He goes to classical concerts in his spare time," Luddick explained. "Probably the most succesful lawyer in Europe, but also the most ruthless. He helps the Cabal with legal and financial issues."
Lara pulled out a photo of a 40 years old, black-haired woman beaming and holding a golden award. "And who's this?"
"Kristina Boaz," Luddick said, his tone fearful. "The creepiest one next to Eckhardt, if you ask me. That photo was taken ten years ago, when she won a scientific award for making great progress in the field of brain surgery. Nowadays, she runs a 'Sanatorium' somewhere beneath the Strahov."
Lara found a photo of a corpulent man in his mid-fifties, walking through what looked like an immense hothouse filled with exotic plants. "Who's the gardener?"
"Dr. Grant Muller. Heads the Botanical Research Center in the Strahov. Also does research for the World Pharmaceuticals Commission. He spends his spare time with prostitutes – both female and male – usually teenagers."
Lara shuddered. "I did not need to know that."
"Sorry."
"And who's the bald-head?" Lara had pulled out a photo of Gunderson.
"Marten Gunderson, Swedish war veteran. He runs The Agency, a thinly disguised mercenary recruitment service. They're spread all over Europe, and sometimes work in the US and Asia, too."
"So that's the commando force that chased me at the Louvre," Lara thought. "And these four geezers all work for Eckhardt?"
"Ano," Luddick nodded.
"Well, I can't wait to meet them in person."
Luddick stopped the car in front of a huge, bland warehouse with red brick walls. 'STRAHOV – Vstup zakázán – Parkování zakázáno,' proclaimed the signs. "This is the Strahov," Luddick stated the obvious. He pointed to an alley next to the warehouse. "Your entrance should be down there … Are you sure you want to go in? If you ask me, it's suicide. I've never seen any trespassers make it out of the Strahov alive."
"I'm not sure I'll make it either," Lara said and opened the car door, stepping out on the cold street. "But I have to try. I … I've come too far to give up now."
"Well … good luck." Luddick's tone of voice revealed that he didn't think any amount of luck would be enough to get Lara through the Strahov unscathed.
Lara gave a slight, insecure smile. "I make my own luck."
"Na shledanou," Luddick said and closed the door before speeding down the street. Lara watched the red vehicle disappear around a corner. She then walked down the alley her Czech friend had pointed at. A green metal door was located at the end. Lara swiped her security pass through and pressed the six-digit code into the keypad. The door opened, and Lara entered the warehouse.
-
A/N: Yay, I finally got to use the most beautiful phrase in the entire English language! Cellar door …
Glossary
'Obscura Pictura' – 'Obscura Painting/Image'
'Foveae' – 'Traps/Pitfalls'
'Bellatoris' – 'Warriors'
'Vstup zakázán' – 'No Admittance'
'Parkování zakázáno' – 'No Parking'
'Na shledanou' – 'See you later'
