Anna put down the phone with a sigh. She was not supposed to use the hospital line to make a personal call, but this was an emergency. She was barely an hour into her night shift and the babysitter had called complaining of stomach pains - now she had to find a replacement at extremely short notice.

Wearily she began to flick through the filing cabinet, renewing her search through the patient records for a copy of an x-ray report. She was so distracted that she did not notice the large group of visitors approaching reception until they had stepped right up to the desk.

One of the men casually leant across its surface and placed a gloved hand upon the file she was holding; he lowered it firmly as Anna looked up and met his eyes in shock. The stranger was dressed all in black. The only flash of colour in his ensemble was the blood red scarf he wore around his neck. His blonde hair was slicked back to reveal a pair of penetrating eyes. Anna was so taken aback by those eyes that for a moment she could not speak.

"Promiňte, máte přání?" she asked shakily.

The man did not remove his hand from the folder.

"Mluvíte anglicky?" he said.

Anna stammered: "Y-You are from England?"

"Paris, actually." The stranger smiled strangely. The gesture made his face seem all the more menacing. "But I oversee investments worldwide. English is the language of my business. I'm sure you understand."

Anna could not take her eyes away as the man slowly withdrew his hand from her file. She had almost forgotten that she was holding it.

"How can I help, sir?" she said with her heavy accent. Although she tried her best to sound cheerful her wavering voice easily betrayed her unease.

The stranger gestured to the men standing behind him. There were perhaps half a dozen of them, clad in black and wearing heavy jackets and gloves to keep out the cold. Anna did not like the look of them at all. Suddenly she wished that the security guard was here to help her; he had left barely ten minutes ago to investigate an incident in the parking lot.

"We're here to visit a patient," said the man.

"Are you a relative, sir?"

"Just a friend," he said. "The patient's name is Kurtis Trent. He will be expecting us. Could you tell me which room he is in?"

Anna nodded a little. She was perspiring so much that the paper stuck to her palms as she lowered the file. A few wisps of blonde hair fell before her eyes as she bent down and searched again through the filing cabinet for her patient histories. When she finally pulled out the correct file and saw what was printed upon it her feeling of unease only grew. She returned the file to its place and closed the bottom drawer with finality.

"I'm sorry," she said curtly, brushing the hair away from her face as she straightened again. "But I'm not authorised to give out that information. If you provide me with some identification then I will check with security to see if you are allowed to-"

The stranger's hand suddenly shot out and grabbed her wrist as Anna turned to reach for the phone.

"Don't even try it," he growled. The man violently twisted Anna's arm to demonstrate his point. She gave a soft cry of distress which was stifled as soon as she took in his expression. The men who flanked him drew in closer to shield this scene from the view of others in the reception area. "You'd be dead before you even began to dial."

Anna's voice died in her terror. All she could manage was a choking gasp as the man loosened his grip and then leant across the desk again until his face was mere inches from hers. His other hand reached inside the folds of his jacket.

"Which room is he in?" he said firmly.

Anna shook her head weakly.

"I have already told you – I cannot give out that information without-"

"Which room?" he growled.

"I-I can't…"

The next moment there was a sharp crack.

Anna's last thought was of her child. She left behind a slippery trail of blood as her body slumped across the desk and then fell to the ground, bringing a mass of papers fluttering down with her. She did not get up again.

Joachim Karel lowered his gun with a frown. He ignored the screams which now filled the reception area as he calmly slipped behind the desk and pulled open the filing cabinet. As he rifled through the patient histories his men brandished guns and began to bark orders at those frightened bystanders caught in the vicinity.

It was not long before Karel found what he was looking for. He smiled in satisfaction as he read the name printed upon the folder in his hands:

Trent, Kurtis.

XXX

He was having the nightmare again, only this time he witnessed the entire thing in full colour and stereo sound: the otherworldly howls, the bone chilling screams, and then the sickening thud as his father's corpse crumpled to the ground before him. A dark figure stood amidst this blood-soaked destruction, a fisted gauntlet crackling with flames upon his hand. He threw back his head and began to shake with maniacal laughter.

But this time when the killer turned to face him it was not Pieter van Eckhardt that he saw. Now it was the gleeful visage of Joachim Karel.

"Hiiiisssssss... Ssspiiiittttt! Diiiieeee iiiinnn paaaaaiiiin! Huuuurrrrt the fleeeesssshh! Poiiiissssson and paaaiiiinnnn! Ssssssstaaaaabbb and sssslaaaassshh! Rrrriiiippp and bliiiiinnnnd. Aaaaanguiiissssh and ssssstiiiing. Sssssuffeeerrrr, yeeessssss sssssuffeeeerrr. Buuuuurn aaaawaay sssssooooffttttt ssskiiinnn. Sssssscreeeaam fooor meeeeee. Veeeritaaaatisssss maaaaaggooot-"

Kurtis jerked awake in his bed with a start, sweating profusely. Even now he imagined that he could hear his father's screams still lingering in the world of the waking.

With a shudder he sank back against his pillow and closed his eyes again. The nightmare never became easier no matter how many times he had endured it that past year. It filled him with a heady mixture of horror and dread. It was not until Kurtis heard the terrified screams again that he realised they were not echoes from the realm of nightmare.

He was out of bed and pulling on his clothes in an instant, taking his gun and the Chirugai from the lampshade where Lara had stashed them that morning. His holster he hastily slung across one shoulder as he pushed open the door to his room. The Chirugai quivered in his hand a little as Kurtis clipped it to his belt and then cautiously peered out into the corridor.

He found the patients outside in a state of mild panic. Some retreated to their rooms at the behest of staff, whilst others simply remained frozen where they were and exchanged anxious glances as gunshots resounded from the floor below.

The bandages around his chest were due to be removed when he was discharged the next morning, and although Kurtis could move around freely of his own accord there was still a dull sense of throbbing whenever he moved too strenuously. It would make running extremely difficult, and from the looks of things he was going to have to do plenty of it.

A gunshot rang out again. This time it was worryingly close. Kurtis knew that this could not be simply a coincidence - somebody was coming for him.

He was almost returned to full strength, but Kurtis was hardly a match for a group of armed men with so many innocent people in the line of fire. His hand reached for the holstered weapon at his side, but Kurtis swiftly decided against it. There was enough chaos already without him waving another gun around.

Instead he turned right and rushed off down the corridor, approaching the stairwell and flinging open the fire exit door. The alarm was set off with a pealing whine. Those bystanders who had not barricaded themselves in a room ran for the stairwell beyond, and Kurtis yelled to get the attention of others as he urged them through impatiently. The corridor in front of him was soon emptied. A few papers tumbled to the floor, discarded as one of the nurses had fled, but nobody remained save for an older woman who was jabbing frantically at the call button beside the elevator.

Kurtis rolled his eyes.

"You have got to be kidding me…"

As he hurried back down the corridor in her direction Kurtis noticed that the elevator was ascending from the lower floors with frightening speed. He did not wish to stick around and find out who was on their way up.

When he touched a hand to the woman's shoulder she almost screamed with fright. It took a few mumbled words of reassurance in his rudimentary Czech to calm her down sufficiently, although she continued to linger as he tried to persuade her to follow him, her eyes lingering on his gun in its shoulder holster. When he finally began to guide her away the elevator doors behind them slid open with a pleasant chime.

Kurtis turned with a start. Three men stood before them, wielding 9mm pistols. They were clad all in black and had discarded their jackets upon the floor of the elevator. Now there was nothing to disguise the heavy flak jackets that they wore. Kurtis felt a chill of terror as he recognised the soldiers of The Agency.

The woman he was helping gave a panicked cry and flung herself behind him. The men, however, ignored her as their eyes locked upon Kurtis. For a moment he simply returned their gaze, unflinching. He knew that there was no escape from these men once they had identified their target.

XXX

Behind him the woman he had been helping slowly backed away until her back met the wall, her eyes wide in terror. Kurtis measured the men before him quietly as they stepped out of the elevator. They had guns, it was true, but they seemed reluctant to shoot him. He realised with a cold chill that they needed him alive.

One of the men studied him with amusement, his lips curling into a familiar smile.

"Mr. Trent," he said. "We thought that we might find you here. Our employer wishes to speak with you."

Kurtis remained unmoved.

"And who exactly is your employer?"

The man shook his head.

"It is none of your concern," he said. "Come downstairs with us and we'll take you to see him. I'm sure you don't want to have any blood upon your hands."

And at these words the lead soldier nodded to one of his companions, who raised his gun and aimed it at the woman who had flattened herself against the wall. She gave a whimper. Kurtis' face remained impassive.

"Put your weapon on the floor," said the mercenary. "You won't need it any longer."

Kurtis looked at each soldier in turn, considering them quietly. Then he unclasped his shoulder holster, negotiating the strap over his head and slinging it onto the floor beside him. The lead soldier smiled again and then indicated to one of his companions to cautiously approach.

Suddenly the Chirugai ripped free at Kurtis' belt. Orange sparks swirled like a halo about his head as the disc launched itself at his attacker. The man staggered off-balance as he ducked to avoid the whirling blades, and Kurtis punched the man hard in the face. He threw so much of his weight into the blow that he staggered and fell to his knees. Pain exploded in his stomach and the connection with his Chirugai faltered. The disc clattered to the floor.

As Kurtis struggled back to his feet the second mercenary stepped forward and raised his gun, pointing it squarely at Kurtis' head.

"This would be a lot easier if you just came quietly," he said.

Kurtis looked past the barrel of the gun and gazed up at his opponent. Then he seized his attacker's arm and held it fast against his side, throwing himself forward and driving the heel of his palm into the man's nose with a sickening crack.

As the mercenary staggered backwards, howling in agony, Kurtis grabbed the man's gun before it fell and turned to the third assailant. Before the man could get a shot off Kurtis hurriedly blasted his attacker in the hand. The man dropped his gun with a scream of pain and fell to his knees as blood sprayed across the floor.

Kurtis backed off a little, remaining crouched in a defensive stance. The man at his feet writhed in agony, cradling his bloody hand to his chest; the other was clutching his ruined nose as blood pooled upon the floor beneath him. The third man lay sprawled unconscious just inside the elevator, and a series of chimes sounded from its direction as the doors tried and repeatedly failed to close against this obstruction and return to the lower floors.

Kurtis found his hands were trembling as he aimed his gun at the lead mercenary's head.

"Who hired you?" he hissed.

The man refused to answer as he dragged himself upright against the wall beside the elevator, clutching his ruined hand to his chest. His face was pale from shock.

"Tell me who hired you," Kurtis said again with a snarl, "or next time I will aim a little higher."

"It should be obvious," his attacker said with a grunt. "You both have some unfinished business to attend to."

Kurtis did not lower the gun.

"Karel."

The mercenary gave an ironic chuckle, which soon descended into a coughing fit. Kurtis' knuckles were bloody as he cocked the gun at his assailant's head.

"Why didn't you just shoot me?" he growled. "What does Karel want with me?"

"I have no idea," said his assailant. "And even if I did know do you really think that I would tell you?"

Kurtis raised an eyebrow.

"I've got a chamber full of bullets that might convince you otherwise."

His attacker laughed.

"Even if you try to run you won't get far. They're on their way up here, shooting whoever gets in the way. They've just taken out security." He smiled. "Collateral damage is just a minor inconvenience, after all."

Kurtis had heard enough. With a swift kick to the head he rendered the man unconscious, and the mercenary slumped to the floor next to his fallen companion, who was trembling in shock as blood continued to pour from his broken nose. Kurtis studied the results of his handiwork without pity as he discarded his gun.

He turned away to leave. As he did so the woman he had saved suddenly enveloped Kurtis in a desperate hug. He stood there feeling decidedly awkward before she pulled away again, shaking like a leaf. He had not realised she was still there.

"Thank you," the woman stammered in broken English. "Thank you so, I-"

"What kind of person heads for the elevator in an emergency?" Kurtis said in incredulity. He pointed to one of the fire drill signs next to the elevator doors. "Do you even read these things? Just how stupid are you?"

And before the stunned woman could react Kurtis snatched up his shoulder holster and then firmly steered her in the direction of the fire exit. Together they both rushed down the corridor, which was still engulfed by the whine of the fire alarm. As soon as the woman was safely down the stairwell Kurtis closed the fire exit door behind her, collapsing back against it with a soft curse.

It was just as he had feared. Joachim Karel was alive, and he was coming for him.

Kurtis took a series of deep breaths, preparing his mind for the coming onslaught. Then he thrust out his arms with his palms upwards.

Slowly he pushed out with his mind and released his vision from his body, allowing it to float weightlessly for a time before it picked up speed and raced down the corridor. When he reached the elevator Kurtis willed his sight to change direction and plunge right through the door leading to the nearby stairwell.

Everything that he saw was covered in an orange haze. Sounds echoed and images loomed strangely distorted before him as he descended the stairs. It did not take long before a group of soldiers appeared in his mind's eye, climbing the stairwell with determined steps. They were being led by a large hulking figure with a shaved head. In contrast to his subordinates he wore a blue jacket over his black garb which was secured with a thick belt, and he lifted a gloved hand as he gestured two of his soldiers to lead the way with their guns at the ready.

It was Marten Gunderson, the soldier he had worked for almost a decade ago; the soldier who had caught him unawares as he made his way towards Eckhardt's lab. Kurtis had been bludgeoned unconscious by the butt of that man's rifle and woken up in an empty storeroom with his hands tied behind his back. It was during his failed escape from the same storeroom that Kurtis had come face-to-face with Joachim Karel. He had a few scores to settle before the end of all of this.

Kurtis urgently retreated to his body. The pain of his returning vision threatened to knock him off-balance as he staggered backwards. He cursed softly as he reached out and leant heavily against the wall. Then he began to weigh his options. The first was simply to go out there and face them, guns blazing, in a potentially suicidal gesture. The other option was to try and lead these men away from the hospital and pick them off one by one.

Yep, an annoyingly sarcastic part of his mind told him. Option two definitely the favourite there.

Once he had recovered from the afterburn of his farsee Kurtis pushed away from the wall. The sound of approaching footsteps and the clanking of weapons grew steadily louder. But he did not run. It was not long before Gunderson appeared at the end of the corridor, flanked by a group of armed mercenaries. They rushed to a halt as they noticed the men Kurtis had taken out by the elevator.

Kurtis flicked his wrist and the abandoned Chirugai quivered in place. Several men stepped back in alarm as it leapt into the air beside them with a surge of orange sparks. Then the Chirugai flew down the length of the corridor. Kurtis caught it almost lazily in his outstretched hand. Its blades retracted with a hiss as Kurtis flashed the soldiers a confident smirk.

"You want me?" he shouted. "Well, let's see if you can catch me first!"

And he gave them a two-fingered salute and then turned on his heel, racing off down a turn in the corridor and hoping desperately that they would follow him.

XXX

My stupid computer has broke, which means I am going to have to type up my chapters all over again! I am sorry if this update has been a long time in coming but my internet connection sucks and I can never get on to edit my chapters.

Okay, enough ranting :D Thank you Acid-Rush, Lady Lara Croft and Lara-is-my-rolemodel for all your lovely comments! I was not aware the speech in my story was so funny. Maybe I have no sense of humour? :p Oh, one last thing: this story is going to become extremely dark at times and, since I have next to no knowledge about ratings, if someone thinks this story needs to be higher than PG-13 would they please let me know? Thanks!

Translations:

Promiňte, máte přání? = I'm sorry, may I help you?

Mluvíte anglicky?= Do you speak English?