Kurtis felt completely numb as he stared down at the water below. Already blood was beginning to plume across the surface of the lake, leaving the depths of the murky water awash with red. His disbelieving eyes remained fixed upon the water for some time. Lara did not surface again.

She was gone.

Ripples continued to scatter across the lake's surface as Karel strode past him and approached the water's edge, his hands clutched calmly behind his back. His leather jacket was flung open to reveal a gun resting in the holster at his thigh. It was the same gun he had just used to shoot Lara. Kurtis did his utmost to stop the tears which were threatening to spill down his face. He did not wish to show weakness in front of these men, but after everything that had happened he could feel his resolve slowly beginning to crumble. His father, Boaz, Lara… It all just kept on coming.

Gunderson was occupied nearby, directing his soldiers to dispose of the bodies that had been killed during the battle. Kurtis watched with unseeing eyes as the mercenaries dragged the corpses of their former comrades over to the shore of the lake, stripped them of their weapons and weighted down their flak jackets with rocks. There were several dull splashes as the bodies were pushed into the water. The men worked without emotion, their faces expressionless as they handed off the extra weapons to those who could bear them. These were seasoned mercenaries, desensitised to death. Kurtis had been one of them once. He too had seen his fair share of horrors in life, but nothing that affected him quite like this.

Karel seemed to sense these thoughts, for he suddenly turned and fixed Kurtis with his unblinking gaze. The empty look in his eyes was chilling.

"I am sorry," Karel said. "If I had known that you and Ms. Croft had become so close I would never have…" He paused in mid-speech, thinking about this for a moment. "Actually, I would have killed her regardless of your feelings. But perhaps I would have exacted my judgement in a far more painful manner."

"Shut your mouth!" Kurtis spat. He struggled quite uselessly against the men that held him. He would have given anything in the world to be able to break free there and then and punch Karel squarely in the face. "You shot her in cold blood. You fucking coward!"

Karel simply gave a shrug. Somehow his nonchalance at the situation was far more unsettling then anything Kurtis could have imagined.

"I gave her a choice," he said. "She chose to die. Far be it from me to explain her logic in this matter." Karel touched a hand to the gun at his belt again, as though he were preparing to withdraw it. He was about to turn away when a thought seemed to strike him. Instead he let his gaze linger upon Kurtis, a small smile playing upon his pale lips. "You were in love with her, weren't you?"

Kurtis did not answer. He had always played his cards close to his heart and that was not about to change. His feelings were nobody's business but his own. Nevertheless some spark of emotion in his eyes must have betrayed him in that moment, for Karel seemed pleased with what he saw and gave a short laugh.

"Mortals," he muttered. "Your idiocy never ceases to amaze me." Karel turned back and looked out across the surface of the lake. The water lapped quietly against the edge of the dock in the moonlight. "I have lived for centuries and seen the pointless wars that you wage. All of the pain and suffering that you inflict upon yourselves and others in the name of some higher cause. To protect those that you love." Karel looked down at his boots, absently pushing a pile of loose stones into the water. "Why do humans insist on having feelings?" he asked. "What is the point of it all?"

"It makes us something other than dead."

Slowly Karel turned around and looked at Kurtis again, surprised by these words. He raised an eyebrow at their significance. Then he approached his prisoner and crouched down so that they were almost face-to-face.

"Try telling that to Ms. Croft," he said.

Rough hands held Kurtis firmly in place as Karel stood up again and returned to the lake's edge. He was well aware of the snatches of whispered conversation, the creaking of leather and the malicious laughter of the soldiers around him. He did not listen to them. The blood was pounding too heavily in his ears.

"I would not worry too much," said Karel. "You will get to join her soon. What is that delusion that mortals always speak so fondly of? Heaven, is it?" He turned and gave Kurtis a questioning look. "Yes, I believe that is so. I am sure she is waiting for you in heaven. And she will be in good company. All of those Lux Veritatis who have suffered and died throughout the centuries…" He smiled maliciously. Kurtis was trembling with anger. "Generation upon generation of your order. Even your own father. They will wish to know why you failed them, why you are worthy of being the last of your line."

"I could say the same thing about you," Kurtis sneered. "And at least somebody will mourn my death. Maybe I am the last Lux Veritatis, but there are still others, outside the order, who will grieve me. Nobody will give a shit when you are gone. The world won't miss another self-serving lawyer."

Karel chuckled at this.

"I'm afraid you underestimate me," he said. "I am well aware of the loose ends in need of tidying. I intend to see to them as soon as you have outlived your usefulness to me." Again he touched a hand to the gun at his belt, rubbing an absent thumb across the barrel. "Your mother, for instance." Kurtis' eyes flashed at this remark. "After all, it does not seem fitting that she should suffer to live on once her husband and her son are both dead." He gestured with a casual wave of his hand. "Three pretty graves all in a row…"

Anger suddenly consumed him. It gave Kurtis the strength to break free from the hands that were holding him. He cleared the distance towards the dock with frightening speed and tackled Karel violently about the waist. He had just a moment to catch the astonished look upon the soldiers' faces before he sent them both slamming down into the water like a rocket.

XXX

They were in a void without sound for a moment, wrestling furiously against each other and the pressure of the water as it closed about them. Their combined weight quickly sent them both plummeting down into the murky depths like a stone. Kurtis seized hold of the collar of Karel's leather jacket and refused to let go. He thought of nothing but wrapping his hands about Karel's throat and choking the life out of him, but the water slowed his movements and his brain was soon screaming for air.

Through the vacuum of the water Kurtis felt a dull roar as something plumed into the water nearby. Another something followed a moment later, and suddenly Kurtis felt a hand snatch a fistful of his shirt. By now there was no breath left in his body. He tried to kick out at his attacker but darkness slowed his senses. Another hand yanked him upwards and he broke the surface of the lake with a gasp. Black dots flashed in his vision at the sudden onrush of oxygen into his screaming lungs.

Gunderson stood upon the dock nearby, barking frantic orders at his men. He had his sub-machine gun in his hands and was aiming it straight at Kurtis' head. His eyes were steely and cold as he gazed down at the soldiers holding him and yelled: "Get them back on dry land! Now!"

Kurtis struggled weakly as he was dragged back towards the shore, but he could barely catch his breath. He was soon hauled back onto dry land, coughing and spluttering. The water had plastered his hair to his forehead and soaked his shirt through. He shivered fiercely against the cold as rough hands hauled him to his feet again.

It was some time before he noticed Karel standing nearby, dripping with water and running a trembling hand through his hair. A number of soldiers stood around him, looking concerned but wisely keeping their distance. Obviously they had just helped to pull him out of the water too. Like Kurtis the Nephilim's clothes were completely soaked. He stared blankly at the ground as he removed his sodden gloves one by one and held them limply in his pale hand. Gunderson lowered his gun and approached him warily.

"Meister Karel?"

Gunderson reached out and put a concerned hand upon Karel's shoulder. Karel merely swatted him away. For a moment he did not say a word. Then with swift footsteps he advanced upon Kurtis and punched him hard in the face. The blow was so strong that it broke Kurtis' nose with a sickening crack. Blood sprayed across the dusty ground. The men holding him were forced to drag Kurtis upright again as he fell back against them. Karel paused and slipped his gloves inside his jacket.

"You might want to learn to behave a little better," Karel snarled at him. His voice was filled with quiet malice as he leant in disturbingly close. Kurtis met his gaze evenly, blood now pouring heavily down his face. "The ritual does not require you alive. Or in one piece."

Kurtis did not even blink as water dripped down into his eyes. He was not about to admit defeat. The very thought that Lara was dead made him feel physically sick. He was not prepared to let her go. Not yet. If anything the slim hope that she might have survived gave him something to hold onto. It was a thought with which he could defy Karel and his captors. It was all that he had left.

Kurtis' mouth twisted into a bloody smirk. He chuckled hysterically, perhaps from the cold, and said: "What's the matter, Joachim? All those centuries of life and you never even learnt to swim?"

Karel did not bother to humour him. He growled and seized a fistful of Kurtis' shirt. Kurtis tried to pull away but Karel was far stronger than he; he was also pinioned between two soldiers holding his arms, unable to fight back.

"She is dead," Karel said in a cold voice. He tilted his head and stared at Kurtis hard. Every word he spoke slowly and deliberately for maximum effect. "If she does not bleed to death or drown first her own acids will fill up her stomach cavity from within. It will mix with her blood and she will slowly die in agony as-"

Kurtis spat in Karel's face. Immediately a dozen sub-machine guns converged upon him. Karel, however, said nothing as he reached into his pocket and removed a silk handkerchief. It was sodden through, but nonetheless he slowly wiped at his face before folding it up again and returning it to his leather jacket. Then he gestured to his men with a wave of his hand.

"Please," he said. "Put down your weapons." The soldiers around him obeyed this order, albeit reluctantly. Karel stepped back and looked around at them with a cold glare and then turned to Gunderson. "We have strayed here too long. My force field shall fail soon. We do not want anyone to hear us coming or going." Gunderson nodded. Satisfied, Karel turned back and met Kurtis' eyes. "But you may," he said carefully, "be as rough as you like for this." And he smiled and added: "Tie his hands."

Kurtis knew that this was his last opportunity to escape. He reared back and kicked out at the soldier who approached him. As the man doubled over in pain Kurtis managed to elbow one of his guards in the head. There was a dull crack. He turned and used this sudden leverage to throw the other guard across his shoulder. In an instant he was free and facing down the other soldiers, who were caught off-guard and blindly scrambling for their guns.

Kurtis stared them down with a smirk. Behind him the Chirugai leapt into the air with a surge of orange sparks, ripping free of its restraints at a soldier's belt. He had been tugging at the connection with the weapon for a long time now, but only at that moment did it respond to his call. Its blades still shone with fresh blood from their last battle.

"Enough!" Karel cried. And he threw out a hand. Suddenly the air pulsated again with green energy. Before he could do anything Kurtis was blasted off his feet and sent sailing through the air. He slammed to the ground hard, sliding to an abrupt halt in the dust. He clutched at his stomach in agony and then turned and spat up blood. The Chirugai clattered uselessly to the ground, the connection broken.

Karel lowered his hand, seething with anger. The air about him crackled dangerously with energy. He looked around at his bewildered men and yelled at them: "Don't just stand there! Retrieve him!"

Gunderson and his men rushed forwards. But Kurtis was not willing to give up yet. He weakly pushed himself up onto his elbows, lifting a hand to call his Chirugai. The weapon clattered weakly for a moment and then fell still. Kurtis stared at it in confusion, blinking heavily as he tried to make sense of this action. He looked up at Gunderson as he approached and then collapsed onto his back again, his energy utterly spent.

When they reached him Kurtis was too far gone to fight back. He grimaced in pain as the soldiers hauled him shakily to his knees. Roughly they wrenched his hands behind his back and bound his wrists with plastic ties. The others kept their guns trained firmly upon him, discouraging him from attempting to escape again.

Kurtis closed his eyes as the plastic ties were cinched tight enough to cut off his circulation. He refused to accept this defeat. Once more he attempted to call his Chirugai but to no avail. It felt as though there was a shield between him and his weapon, blocking him from connecting with its power. He opened his eyes to find Karel staring down at him, clearly amused.

The look on Karel's face told Kurtis everything. The Nephilim bent down and casually retrieved the Chirugai where it had clattered upon the ground earlier. It trembled for a moment in his hand, trying to break free from his grip. Then the blades retracted and became perfectly still.

"How did you…?"

Karel gave a wicked smile. It was not the first time Kurtis felt as though he could read his deepest thoughts. Karel came to stand before Kurtis with slow steps. Then he suddenly grabbed his prisoner roughly by the collar and jerked him forwards. Karel looked into Kurtis' eyes with frightening intensity.

"You are not the only one with hidden powers," he said. "And do not think I have forgotten about your little outburst. You and I are going to have a talk later." He growled. "Your punishment is only delayed this time."

And Karel leant down and kissed Kurtis furiously upon the forehead. Then he turned away with a laugh and departed for the waiting cars in the distance, the Chirugai still in his hand. Kurtis stared after Karel with murderous intent. Soon a shadow fell across him as he knelt in the dust. He looked up to find the hulking form of Marten Gunderson standing above him, sub-machine gun in hand. He did not look pleased.

"I would advise you not to make this any harder than necessary, Trent," Gunderson told him. "My men weren't exactly thrilled by our last two meetings. You have a tendency to call attention to yourself."

Kurtis' expression changed at these words. His eyes shifted rapidly from Karel's departing figure and fixed upon Gunderson, a slight smile playing at his lips.

"Kind of embarrassing, isn't it?" Kurtis bit back. "Over a dozen trained soldiers can't even catch up with a single wounded guy." His smile became even wider. "What went wrong, Gunderson? I thought you were meant to be the best in the business?"

Gunderson glared daggers at him. Then he barked out orders without even breaking his gaze: "You heard Meister Karel. Move out!"

Around them the other soldiers rushed past with a dull clattering of weapons. Kurtis continued to smirk at Gunderson as his guards roughly pulled him to his feet and hauled him in the direction of the waiting vehicles. As they went Kurtis snatched a glance back over his shoulder towards the murky water at the end of the dock, but nothing disturbed the surface. The last ripple had petered out and disappeared beneath the undulating tide long ago. Lara was lost.

Roughly the men forced Kurtis into the backseat of one of the cars. Two soldiers followed him, positioning themselves on either side of Kurtis and cutting off any chance of escape. Karel was already sitting in the front passenger seat, and he turned and gave Kurtis a look that sent a chill down his spine. One thing was for sure: Karel would not let Kurtis get away from him again. His luck had just run out.

As the vehicles pulled away from the hotel Kurtis sat quietly with his head bowed and his eyes closed. His thoughts were consumed by Lara. He no longer felt close to tears; only a lingering sense of emptiness remained. He had been here before. It was where he lived, this loneliness bordering on despair. The tale remained the same even if the details changed. Kurtis was doomed to lose everyone that he loved. All that remained now was to make as defiant an end as possible.

XXX

I think I could get used to this you know: torturing my readers and having them beg on their hands and knees for an update... (laughs evilly) Seriously, I am taking all your threats into consideration... Guess, you'll just have to wait to find out Lara's fate! ;) I am very grateful for everyone who reviewed. Keep this up and we can get to 100 reviews in no time! :D