Achilles' Heel, Part I: The Spear
By C. Mage
"David?" Lara called upstairs as she got home. "David, where are you?" Man's never around when you need him…well, almost never. She checked through the mail, sorting bills and watching for suspicious packages. "Mannfred?"
"Yes, MiLady?" Mannfred walked out from the pool room.
"Do you know where that man has gone?" she asked, mock irritation in her voice.
"As I recall, MiLady, he's outside, working on the obstacle course. I suspect he's working on trying to beat your best time. Again."
"Ah, to dream the impossible dream." Lara chuckled. "Let him work up a sweat for a few more minutes, then let him know I need to talk with him."
"Another expedition, MiLady?"
"Not this time. This time, the artifacts have already been unearthed."
"Out of town?"
"Yes, we're going to Athens, Greece."
"Shall I pack the Type B or the Type C luggage?" Type B was luggage packed with general purpose clothes as well as a small supply of firearms and ammunitions. Type C was nearly identical, except for more clothes, evening wear and only a pair of pistols.
"Type C. No sense asking for trouble. Be sure to pack my red evening dress, and make sure to pack that gray Armani that makes Dave look exceptionally handsome." Lara smiled. "I'll be in my office."
"Very good, MiLady. Will there be anything else?"
"Yes…give Dave fifteen minutes before calling him in." She smiled inwardly as she walked upstairs. Dave looks marvelous when he's worked up a sweat.
David checked his time and frowned. Dammit. A full five seconds short. Who do I have to kill to beat that time?? He went to the bench and drank some bottled water, then toweled himself off. Maybe I need to start toning more, reduce my muscle mass. Dave considered, then shook his head. I'm just tired. I'll carbo-load tomorrow morning and see if I can't push through the pain barrier.
As he picked up his towel and walked inside, he felt the cool air on his body and sighed gratefully. A sound drew his attention to his right and he saw Mannfred walking towards him briskly. "Master David, Lara is home and in her office. She'd like to see you as soon as possible."
"I bet. I'll head up now." David walked upstairs and approached Lara's door, then stopped. He grinned, opening the bottle of water and pouring it over his head, shaking his hair. He looked down at himself, smiling, then knocked. "Hey, Lara, you in?"
"Come on in," she said with a secret smile, making herself look business-like as David came in, glistening with beads of water on his body, his hair shining. Lara took one look at him and dropped her pencil. I wonder…if it would stimulate his ego…if I leaped over the desk…and had him…right there…on the floor…?
"Lara?" David asked with a smile. "You okay?"
Lara blinked, regaining her composure. "Uh, yes, of course, why wouldn't I be?" she said, barely able to hide the stammer. "David, I'd like you to get packed. We're going to see a woman about a spear."
"Excuse me?"
"There's an exhibit being opened at the Museum of Athens. One of my competitors, drat the luck, may have found the tomb of Achilles. I've been asked to visit the Museum before it officially opens to help authenticate the artifacts, make sure they are what they are purported to be."
"You don't sound too excited."
"It's nothing…I was just a little irritated that…well…"
"That he found it before you did?"
"Go ahead, lord it over me." Lara grimaced a little as she picked up a sheet of paper from the printer. "We leave in three hours. Mannfred's handling the packing, I have our itinerary ready, so all that's left to do is get cleaned up and dressed and get to Heathrow. Anything you'd like to do…before we go?"
"Yeah…" David took a few steps over to the desk and leaned over it with a smile. Lara leaned forward as well. She closed her eyes slightly in anticipation. She sighed as she heard the words: "…I'd like to see if maybe I can't beat your time on the obstacle course."
WHAT??? Her eyes opened as she saw him leave the office. Lara sat there for a few moments, then stood up. She shook her head. "Dirty rotter," she murmured. "Now I need another shower. Sooner than expected. I suppose I should be glad that cold water is in abundance here in England…"
"Okay, fill me in. The tomb of Achilles?"
"Yes. Ever heard of him?" Lara asked as the steward came by with cocktails.
"He was in the Trojan War, wasn't he?"
Lara gave him a look. "After all the studying you've done, I pray that you have more information on the subject, if nothing else to prove that you didn't spend all your time on the computer playing video games."
"Alright, let me see…Achilles, son of Peleus and Thetis, a minor goddess in the grand scheme of Greek mythology. His mom gets a vibe that he's going to be a great warrior and he's barely a toddler, so she decides to hedge her bets by taking her son to the River Styx and dipping him in the waters to make him invulnerable. However, he's not entirely invulnerable. Somehow, in true tragic Greek fashion, she misses one area of his body; his heel, which she was holding. Nobody ever bathed their kids thoroughly in those days, I guess. She feels safe for a while, until she gets a message from an oracle telling her, 'Sorry, Thetis ol' gal, but you missed a spot, and someday, somebody's going to nail him right in his all-too-vulnerable heel beneath the walls of Troy.' Determined to keep him from dying in this fashion, she decided to taken him to Chiron, a centaur who taught the greatest heroes of Greek mythology. Seems Chiron was an all-purpose guy, not only training Achilles in how to fight, but in other things like music, art, philosophy and poetry. Kinda speaks up for the benefits of daycare."
"Pray continue."
"I will. Where was I? Oh yeah, Chiron. You know, Lara," David mused, "He could've saved himself a lot of trouble and avoided his fate by becoming a farmer or something. There's a certain nobility in farming."
"Well, if he had, people wouldn't be reading about him now, would they? Besides, Fate has a tendency to have the last word."
"Yeah. Anyways, once his training was done, he went back to Mom and Dad, but no sooner did he get back than Mom began to worry. Things were heating up between Greece and Troy. Some wiseguy named Paris had run off with the famed and beautiful Helen after being suckered by the goddess Aphrodite. Seems Aphrodite, Athena and Demeter, I think, wanted this golden apple, and they asked Paris to pick the goddess most worthy of it. Naturally, in time-honored tradition, the contestants began bribing the judge in order to get the apple. Aphrodite promised Paris the most beautiful woman in the world, and Paris gave her the apple. What Aphrodite had neglected to mention was that Helen was already married to someone else. So, as soon as Paris took off with Helen, the king of Greece started calling upon the greatest heroes of Greece to help him get his wife back, heroes like Ulysses and Ajax. As soon as Thetis heard this, he sent Achilles off to the court of Lycomedes, dressing her as a woman so no one would find him." David paused. "Guess Klinger didn't come up with that idea on his own. Anyways, the Greeks start losing, so Ulysses went looking for Achilles. Ulysses posed as a merchant, selling trinkets and knick-knacks, but he also had some weapons for sale. He saw a woman pick up a sword and wave it around like she knew what she was doing, so Ulysses figured he'd found his man, or woman, whatever. Ulysses, the silver-tongued devil, managed to persuade Achilles to come to Troy and fight alongside the Greeks. At some point, he was given a special spear, but there isn't a lot of info that tells where he got it or who he got it from. The only references to it tell of when the Greeks landed on the shores of Mysia, the King of Mysia, a guy named Telephus, decided to challenge the Greeks. He was wounded but a spear thrust from Achilles and withdrew, but the wound wouldn't heal. He followed Achilles right into his camp outside Troy after pleading to the god Apollo, god of healing, for help and getting a reply, 'Only that which wounds can heal.' Achilles made an ointment from the rust of the spearhead and used it on Telephus, healing him. Kinda like using snake venom to create an antitoxin. In any case, you know the rest of the story, Trojan horse, lots of battles, tragedy on both sides. Achilles loses his bud, Patroclus, to Hector, and Achilles kills Hector out of grief and revenge. Hector's son, Priam, goes to Achilles' tent with the help of Hermes and they agree to a truce to let their dead be buried and mourned. Achilles falls in love with Priam's daughter, Polyxena, but Paris, who happens to be Polyxena's brother, finds out about Achilles' weak spot and shoots Achilles in the heel as Achilles is riding away from his wedding to Polyxena. Things go downhill from there; Ulysses and Ajax fight each other over Achilles' weapons, Ajax loses and kills himself out of grief and loss for his friend and his weapons, Ulysses goes on the Odyssey, kept from going home for a decade, and Polyxena kills herself right on Achilles' tomb. Roll credits."
"Not quite the end of the troubles borne of the Trojan War, but that's where Achilles' part is played out. Not bad, Dave, I guess you were awake after all." Lara smiled. "Here's where the mystery gets interesting. No one knew for sure where Achilles' weapons actually went after Ulysses won them from Ajax. Many believed that Ulysses took the weapons with him back to his home on Ithaca, spoils of war, but others believe that Ulysses fought Ajax not to keep the weapons for himself, but to keep Ajax from taking what should've stayed with Achilles. Many believe that Ulysses had the weapons buried with Achilles in his tomb, then purposefully destroyed all records leading to the location of the tomb of Achilles to keep his grave from being robbed. Like all legends, there are many different rumors as to Achilles' crypt, the protections around it, its location…I find it difficult to believe that Carla Toran managed to find it."
"You never did tell me exactly who this Carla person is. In fact, I don't recall you ever mentioning her name."
"That's because she's a tuppence fortune-hunter. Her only claim to fame is her incredible luck, that and her ability to associate with every sort of low-life known to man. I find it difficult to understand how someone with her lack of knowledge, skill or couth could've managed to solve a mystery that has baffled people smarter and more knowledgeable."
"Luck?"
"Luck runs out, David. I thought hers had run out some time ago. In any case, I wouldn't be surprised to find that her so-called discovery is a complete fraud." She nodded and took out her laptop. "That's why I'm determined to be there to show the world what a charlatan she is."
"Gee, you're not bitter."
Lara turned to David. "David, this isn't personal for me. Many in my line of work are considered glorified grave-robbers. Archaeologists exist to discover and learn about cultures that are long since gone. We have little choice sometimes than to enter places we're not supposed to…there's nothing else that exists to tell us how things were before our time. We have to learn about the past to learn about the mistakes we've made, as well as learn about the good we've done so we don't forget that humanity is capable of doing great good as well as evil. I…" She stopped as she saw his expression. "You have that you're-preaching-to-the-choir look on your face."
"Very observant."
"Very well, Dave, I'll get off my soapbox. I need to discuss a few things with you about Carla, as well as the Museum's curator…"
"Well, well…Lara Croft." Carla was a tall, strong blonde, attractive in a rough sort of way. David figured she was Swedish, but she was dressed in tans and browns, favoring the fashions of the Australians, rugged, but clean leather, denim and flannel. "How nice to see a woman of your stature at my humble presentation."
"Carla. It's a pleasure to be here." Lara smiled back at Carla.
David looked between the two women, seeing far too many teeth. "I hate to interrupt this pleasant meeting, but it's late, it's been a long flight, could we get down to brass tacks?"
"In a hurry, Mr. …I don't believe I caught your name."
"Didn't throw it. David Connors."
"David…yes, I've heard about you. May I call you David?" she said with a winning smile.
"You can call me the Tooth Fairy if it'll help move things along."
"Charming. I see the time you've spent with Lara has not been wasted. It's obvious you've become much more cultured since you left America." Carla walked down the hall and led them through the Museum to the exhibit room. "As you can see, this find had garnered quite a lot of recognition on the world scene. People from all over the world will be here for the presentation on Friday. The Greek government, as you may have guessed, is more than pleased to be the recipient of a national treasure like this." She smiled and she spread her arms to indicate the treasures displayed in glass cases. "Imagine the prestige…"
"I hate to interrupt, but I'm going to need some information before I can put my seal of approval on any of this. Remember, Carla, if I'm not satisfied that every single artifact here is completely genuine, I'm going to close down this exhibit and the curator will back me one hundred percent."
David expected Carla's smile to strain in the face of that kind of threat, but her smile seemed to widen, become more smug. "Care to up the ante, luv?"
"What did you have in mind?" Lara asked suspiciously.
"If the exhibit turns out to be completely on the mark, I want you to publicly admit to the newspapers that you were wrong about your slanderous remarks alluding to my 'dubious' qualifications as an archaeologist."
David rolled his eyes upwards.
Lara smiled wickedly. "And if there is one jar, one sliver of clay that doesn't satisfy me, I'm going to reveal you to the world for what you are, a profiteering fortune-hunter and smuggler."
"Done. You have four days to prove me wrong." Carla walked away with a smile. "Have fun. You might want to start with the Spear of Achilles at the far end of the exhibit."
Lara stopped. "You recovered the Spear?"
"Not bad work, eh, for a 'profiteering fortune-hunter and smuggler'?" Carla left the chamber with a smile.
Lara looked at David, then headed towards the end of the exhibit. David took off in hot pursuit. He raced to where Lara stood, transfixed in shock. A long bronze spear sat on a pedestal, completely encased in glass reinforced by metal along the edges and corners. The spear within had a broad head, made of a silvery-gold metal with small patches of odd blue discolorations on it. The spear was easily more than two meters long, made for a giant of a man.
"Lara?"
"I don't believe it." She went to the case and opened it, examining the spear carefully. Her fingers traced over the joint between the head and the shaft, looking over the marks worn into the metal.
David walked up behind her and touched her shoulder. "Lara?"
"David…this is the spear of Achilles."
"Are you sure? You've only looked at it for a moment or two."
"I'm sure, David. I don't know how she did it…but she found it," Lara breathed. "Help me check the others. There are still other artifacts to examine. Here's what I need you to look for…"
Carla went to her hotel room and sat down on the bed, peeling out of her clothes quickly. She'd always hated the formal part of this deal. Carla would've felt perfectly happy just selling the artifacts, taking the money and finding herself on some tropical island less than a day later.
Unfortunately, she'd made a deal.
She took a long, hot shower, then dressed in a sportsbra and panties. As she toweled her hair, the laptop plugged into the wall beeped at her. Carla sighed as she opened it and looked at the e-mail origin. Her exasperation turned to mild alarm when she saw who the e-mail was coming from. She took a deep breath, then opened the e-mail. After reading the document, Carla shivered and quickly deleted the e-mail, then went back to her bed and sat on it, hugging her knees to her chest. When she finally went to sleep, she left one of the lights on and huddled under the blankets.
Please, God, don't let me dream tonight.
David looked up from his resting place by the wall. Lara had been up all night, checking out every antiquity recovered from the tomb of Achilles. She was currently working on a pair of swords found in the tomb. Her face was framed by stray hairs loosened by hours of relentless, meticulous work. "Uh, Lara…don't you think you should take a break? You've been at this for hours. Want something to eat, drink, sleep on?"
"I'll be done in just a while."
"That's what you said three hours ago."
"And the 'while' in question isn't over yet, is it?" she asked irritably.
"Right…I'm going to go get something to eat."
"Fine," Lara said dismissively.
David sighed and got up, feeling his knees crack. He walked through the halls of the Museum, feeling circulation go back through his legs. The security guards let him outside and he walked across the street to a small family restaurant. I wonder if they have Western omelets here, he mused.
David felt rotten. He'd seen Claire Redfield disappear without a trace, and finding her brother was equally difficult. Lara was something else entirely. She and David had gotten closer, after a fashion, but there was something about their relationship that was starting to bother him. Being sexually intimate together was not an issue anymore; in fact, the two were becoming somewhat adventurous in that respect. But whenever the subject of marriage came up in conversation, David was the only one to toss it out…and Lara never caught it, always changing the subject. She was as deft in steering the conversation to other subjects as she was in shooting a dime in midair at fifty yards.
After a few attempts to bring it up, David was starting to avoid the subject himself…because he was afraid of the answer.
They didn't have Western omelets. Once David explained the concept, they said, "Yes, we can do a mushroom omelet."
He sat down, ignored the menu, asked for a drink of water and some fruit juice, then leaned back in the booth and looked around at the nearly vacant restaurant. There was a surreal quality about it all, being in a different country, Lara Croft being difficult and frustrated, and feeling pretty much out of the loop. Okay, let's examine the situation, get things back into perspective, for fuck's sake. Lara Croft gets an invite from someone she says is on the low end of the totem pole in the archaeological circuit. So low, in fact, she's considered the part of the totem pole that's buried. Suddenly, she comes up with the find of the decade and throws it in Lara Croft's face. Matter of pride, person wants to vindicate herself in the eyes of her peers. Can't really blame Carla, after all, nobody likes being thought of as a lowlife. I oughtta know. So she comes upon a huge find by dumb luck…
David stopped. Something felt wrong. Dumb luck. How does anyone find a discovery like that by dumb luck? He was starting to understand Lara's frustration.
"Sir?"
David looked up to see a waitress with a steaming plate of mushroom omelet. "Yeah, sorry, got stuff on my mind." She smiled at him and put the plate down. He took a bite and smiled in return. "Hey, this is good!"
"Well, our cook had a little help. One of our apprentices went to America a few months ago, and studied some of the local cuisine."
"Always good to broaden one's horizons, believe me…" David's voice trailed off. He suddenly grabbed his jacket and stood up. "Look, I gotta go, what's it come to?"
"Aren't you going to eat your omelet?"
"Could you box it up for me, put it in a doggie bag?" He handed her a lot of drachmas, hoping he gave her the right amount for the omelet and a healthy tip. As it turned out, he gave her a day's wage, but she didn't feel like correcting him.
"Lara!" David burst into the exhibit area. "I've gotta talk with you…" He stopped as he realized that Lara wasn't alone; Carla was there with her.
"About what?" Lara asked sourly.
David thought fast. "I found a place across the street that does Western omelets!"
"My God, it talks," Carla quipped. "Lara, you have an apology to write for tonight, don't you?"
"Agreed, Carla. I don't know how you did it, but you've finally found something important and did the right thing with it. I commend you on becoming a legitimate archaeologist at last." Lara stressed the last two words just a little.
"Happens to the best of us, I'm sure." Carla was not as subtle putting emphasis on the word, "best". "Now, Lara Croft, I'm sure you're going to be quite busy working on the press release for tonight, so I would appreciate it if you would leave so I can finish up the preparations for the unveiling on Friday. No offense, Lara, but I just don't want you around until the unveiling."
"Well, then, as long as we're being blunt, then I'd like to say that I think that you're taking up space intended for people who spend their lives searching for knowledge. You, Carla, are a parasite trying to sell off history for the sum total of what it's constructed of, not what it's truly worth in historical significance."
"Ancient history, Lara…and you know it. This is no petty theft, nothing has been stolen and I received a pittance for the artifacts. Tell me, is that the act of someone looking for a fast buck?"
"You tell me."
David walked over and took her arm. "Come on, Lara, before you start smacking her around," he said with a smile.
The tall blonde looked over at Lara. "Oh, please, try it. Make me a happy woman."
"Let's go, Lara…!" David was now dragging Lara out, who looked angry enough to try to wipe the floor with Carla. "You don't need this kind of aggravation!" Lara didn't answer, but if looks could kill, Carla would've been a walking obituary.
Only after they left the Museum did Lara say, "That bitch," and look balefully back at the Museum.
"Please, Lara, don't sugar-coat it on my account."
"The utter gall of her…how dare she…?!"
"Listen to me, Lara, we've got bigger fish to fry." David steered her to a bench. "Listen, this whole thing stinks, right?"
"How observant, David. With a little training, you could be a detective."
"Lara, do you want to figure this out or not? I've got some ideas, but if you want to sit here and bitch, I'm going back to the hotel and wait for you there." He stood up and walked towards the curb.
"Dave…wait." Lara took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. The woman just infuriates me. She's the worst form of charlatan."
"Then stop fixating on her apparent success and help me on this. Here, have some of my omelet, it's got mushrooms."
Lara sighed, then managed a smile. "I am a bit peckish." She opened the Styrofoam box and sniffed, her smile broadening. "Thank you, Dave. So…what are your ideas?"
"Listen, I think I have an idea, but it's pretty thin. Consider this question before answering: could she have found the tomb of Achilles?"
Lara thought, remembering all the resources that were open to Carla, considering her background carefully. "The odds are so against her, it isn't even laughable."
"Now think about this…what if she had help?"
"Who'd want to help that conniving, backstabbing cu…"
"Lara…" David said warningly.
"I was about to say, 'conspiring witch'," Lara said defensively.
"Sure you were. Now come on, Lara, focus. Would she get help from anyone, anyone with the resources to locate the tomb?"
"Not legitimately. No reputable museum curator would touch her with a ten-foot cattle prod."
"Lara, there's an old rule in the detective biz. 'When in doubt, follow the money.' Let's consider the quasi-legal sources."
"Humph. The line starts at the left and goes around the block…a few hundred times."
"Narrow it down…hmmmm…alright, they're letting her keep the find and get credit for it."
"Unusual. Most of them would've simply paid her off, kept the find and sold it to some private collector or agency. Any legitimate museum would have reported it, more publicity for them and they'd get a better chance of keeping the artifacts."
"What about the people at this museum?"
"Doubtful. I know the curator, he wouldn't have accepted the artifacts."
"Not even from the tomb of Achilles? This guy's the equivalent of George Washington and Arnold Schwarzenegger combined, some museums would've sold their eyeteeth to get those artifacts as part of an exhibit."
"I doubt it," she said, but her voice was unsure. "I need to look around the area before the opening, maybe do a little second-story work."
"Here we go. Try not to get into trouble, okay?"
"Who? Me?" Lara smiled. "I just need to burgle Carla's room."
"Great. A felony. Do me a favor, bring back everything you find. After all, I used to do this sort of thing for a living."
"And I'm certain you were quite the expert." Lara smiled genuinely.
"Just do me a favor?"
"Anything."
"Don't get caught. I don't want this to be another Mexico City."
"Honestly, Dave, you will never let me live that down. It was just one time."
"You were posing as a contestant in an all-woman oil wrestling competition, without my approval, I might add. All to get close enough to pick the pocket of a Mexican police officer, of all people."
"He had the key to the tomb!"
"Don't start. I had to bail you out of a Mexican jail…"
"We could afford it."
"…and bring you a trenchcoat so you could leave without showing off what God gave you while wearing an oil-drenched white T-shirt and bikini bottoms."
"I got the key."
"I don't even want to know where you hid it to pass the searches at the police station."
"Yes you do…" Lara said teasingly.
"Focus, Lara?"
"Don't worry about me, Dave. I can handle myself." She got to her feet. "No need for bail money."
David watched her as she left, sighing. That was how she seemed to look at everything the last few months, always with a joke of some kind. He felt more than a little rotten since she seemed to fend off all attempts of conversations about their relationship. As much as he hated to think it…David had the distinct feeling things were going to come to a head, and their relationship was not going to survive it.
Lara looked up at the hotel room where Carla was staying. Why must they always choose the highest floor in the place? she thought, taking out the grapplegun and aiming high. The viewfinder picked out Carla's balcony quickly and Lara fired the line, waiting until the claw at the end secured itself before looking around. She was dressed in her "sneaksuit," as David termed it; a thick polylatex bodysuit that covered her from the neck down, including a set of gloves with built-in climbing claws and matching boots. Lara also wore a pack on her back and a utility belt, the same color black as her suit. She engaged the power winch on the gun and rose into the air, carefully moving out of the way of windows and hanging from the balcony, twenty stories up.
Inside the room, she could hear Carla talking on the phone. Lara pulled out a pistol-gripped device and aimed it at the corner of the sliding glass door and fired. Two adhesive pads spat from the from of the device and attached themselves to the window, picking up the vibrations of Carla's voice and relayed them to the earpiece in Lara's ear.
"I understand the concept, but I don't understand why I have to be there? Can't your people handle it? This wasn't supposed to involve me and you know it. You're right, I don't know what your reasons are and I don't care! Too right, I want this over with, and I want my cut!" She was silent for a time, then said, exasperated, "Fine. Look, I'm going out to establish an alibi at the clubs. I'll meet you there at midnight. TRY not to be late." She slammed the phone down and Lara winced.
Ouch. Had the volume up too high. She turned down the volume and waited outside. Carla got dressed in a club outfit just this side of illegal, then left the room. Lara pulled herself onto the balcony and looked inside through the drapes. Good. I thought she'd never leave. She tried the door and found it open, sliding it back with a smile. No one locks the hard-to-get-to doors. Lara moved into the room, closing the door behind her. As she stepped forward, she looked up as the hotel room door opened.
"I can't believe it…" Carla walked in and went over to the dresser, opening the top drawer. "It's insane how expensive everything is." She put the purse around her waist and looked around at the room. Carla frowned. She could've sworn something was different. After a few moments of looking at the room from the door, she sighed and left the room, far from a partying mood.
The room was silent for at least ten minutes before Lara poked her head out from under the bed. "Well, Lara, shall we cut it a bit closer next time?" she admonished herself as she crawled out, frowning as she looked at the dust covering the front of her suit. "They should fire their housekeeping staff." She dusted herself off, then looked around the room, taking out a slim case from under her pack, opening it up and walking over to Carla's laptop. "Now…let's see what sort of secrets your secretary has." She plugged the case into the laptop's USB port, then ran a decryption program to turn the portable computer on and bypass the password entry protocols. She began flipping through her folders, opening up anything that looked interesting. Lara also used the hotel's network to access Carla's e-mail. "Let's see…the usual spam…my, my, I never knew you were into that sort of thing. You must get so distracted at petting zoos…not to mention…oh my. I knew you had interests in the Crown Jewels, but not in the dungeons also. Online shopping…nothing much…ooooh, wait, that place looks interesting. It's so hard to find good quality leather products nowadays." She saved the information to the case's hard drive. "Ships overnight as well..."
Lara stopped as she saw what Carla had in her e-mail. Carla had received some e-mail, and dumped it in the Trash Can, but she hadn't emptied the Trash. There were two pieces of e-mail, both from someone who knew how to mask their e-mail addresses somehow. "Jackpot."
To: ctoran09@hotmail.com
From: ?????????@?????????.???
Date: ??/??/????
Re: The exhibit
You are to make sure the Spear is available tomorrow night at midnight. Change nothing in security measures. Make sure Lara Croft and David Connors are not within ten miles of the Museum at midnight. Your Swiss account will be credited the remainder of your payment one hour after successful completion of the midnight operation.
Any variation of these conditions will result in the termination of our arrangements.
To: ctoran09@hotmail.com
From: ?????????@?????????.???
Date: ??/??/????
Re: The Spear
Call the number.
Lara stared at the e-mails. I knew it!! I knew she couldn't have made this discovery by herself. Someone's pulling her strings. She checked her watch. Ten o'clock. Whatever's happening, it's happening tonight at the museum. All I have to do is get over to the museum and warn Dave before Carla and her friends come calling. At this time of night, I can be at the museum in a half-hour…plenty of time.
She walked to the door and looked outside, turning her head to the left and right. Left, nothing, right…four goons coming down the hallway, heading straight for her with unfriendly expressions on their faces. She ducked back into the room and locked the door. "Time to depart," she muttered to herself as she backed away from the door. "Perhaps they're not looking for me?"
The door burst inwards with a shower of splinters, leaving the locks hanging on the door. Lara's eyes widened as the men walked in purposefully, not even bothering to look around. They were like heatseeking missiles and all four had a target lock on Lara Croft.
Lara respected strength and purpose, but she had no plans to stick around and wait to be the object of such determination. She bolted, drawing her gun and firing at the window, shattering it and running through the falling pieces as she took one look at the grapplegun and wrote it off as a business expense, leaping off the balcony into space. The four men rushed to the edge of the balcony and watched Lara plummet to the ground, then their faces twisted into expressions of hot rage as they saw Lara's body suddenly grow a wide expanse of silk from her back as her rate of descent slowed. Lara's parasail brought her gently to the street below. As the chute settled around her, Lara detached the chute and looked around. Her car was nearby, sporting newly flattened tires. "BLAST!" she swore, seeing a van with Greek writing on the sides and a picture of a Greek athlete holding plumbing tools parked two cars back. The door on the side opened and three more men piled out, all with the same determined look on their faces.
Starting to think I should've asked for Luggage B…!
David looked up from the brochures the museum supplied at the door about tourist sites and tour information. He'd been walking around the exhibit for the last few hours, looking over the security measures put in place around the museum, some as part of the museum and some installed specifically for the exhibit. After going through the area time and time again, he decided to hang around and wait for Lara. Unfortunately, the bookstore was closed.
"What do you know…the Parthenon has its own website?" David shook his head. "Wonders of the world never cease." He put the brochure down and looked around. I hope she hasn't gotten in over her head again. Yeah, as if that wasn't going to happen sooner or later. He stood up, stretching, then decided to get his blood flowing by taking a little walk through the museum, double-check the Achilles exhibit. He walked across the marble floor, hearing his footsteps off the walls. Geez, this place is big. A guy could walk half the day before getting from one side to the other. Place feels like a cathedral. All we need is some hunchback swinging through a belltower…
He stopped. Something was wrong. He hadn't seen any of the security guards in the last ten minutes.
David immediately moved towards the Achilles exhibit and looked around. The area was as he left it, all the artifacts intact, but the guards were absent. He felt a sensation on the back of his neck, an all-too-familiar one. Aw, shit, we're about to get hit...
As if on cue, the skylights on the roof shattered, ropes falling through and figures dressed in black dropping through the openings. David ran behind one of the statues and peeked around it to see them land, bearing submachineguns and nightvision goggles.
Dammit, Lara, where the hell are you?
Lara would've loved to have been in the museum to answer David at that point in the evening. To be exact, she would've really liked to be anywhere else on the planet except trying to climb a four-story building without the use of climbing gear…or a suitable headstart. The three huge men behind her were hot on her heels, and only her Olympic-level speed and endurance kept her from being pounded into a grease spot. She spared a look back long enough to see one of them smash through the side of a van as the men crossed the street. "Lovely," she puffed, "annoying AND unstoppable…!"
Lara leaped up, catching the side of a ledge on a hotel and pulling herself up to the next floor. She didn't waste any time and started shimmying up one of the fire escape ladders as she heard the crunching sounds of the three giants climbing after her. As she got to the roof, she looked across the roof to see other buildings, taller ones. The beginnings of an idea began to form and Lara sprinted across the roof, loud footfalls following her relentlessly. "Come on, boys…don't let me down now!" She smiled, gritting her teeth and she pushed herself harder, running faster until she reached the edge of the roof and jumped, stretching her arms out to grab the edge of the roof in front of her.
She missed.
David looked around as the figures hit the floor and scanned the area. One of them spoke in a feminine voice, "The other one might be around here. Comb the area, restrain and detain, but do not kill him. Go." They spread out and put their guns away, pulling out taser batons. David leaned against the statue, looking for an avenue of escape, then saw the hallway leading to the Hall of Medieval Exhibits. It was only fifty feet away.
So much for my detailed plans to live to a ripe old age. He waited for a few moments, then took off for the Medieval Period. Don't let them see me, don't let them see me, don't let them…!
"There he goes! Get him!"
God, tell me. Why doesn't that prayer ever work…and why the hell do I keep using it?
Lara's heart stopped for a brief moment as he hands missed the lip of the roof and gravity began to catch up with her, then her hands managed to grasp the windowsill of the top floor window in front of her. She looked back as the three men charged forward regardless, leaping towards her. Two of them slammed into the wall and grabbed hold, their fingers digging into the stone, but the third didn't fare as well. He bounced off and fell five stories to the ground below. If Lara had any doubts as to whether the fall alone would've stopped the behemoth, those fear were allayed as the creature hit the set of steps below with a resounding CRUNCH. "Poor luck," Lara quipped, then saw the other two just below her, making their way up after her. "Don't you two have any other pastimes?" she asked as she pulled herself up to the roof, sprinting across it to the other side and leaping to the next building, a shipping warehouse. She felt the roof give under her weight as she landed and smiled, moving to the middle and stopping as if taking a rest. The two remaining juggernauts leaped across, then fell through the roof, plummeting to the concrete below. Lara watched as they fell, their stoic expressions unchanging as they dropped like bricks. "Sometimes, gents, size does matter…but not the way you thought."
She was about to sit down to catch her breath when something occurred to her. The thugs after Carla and her couldn't have been simply a coincidence. And that meant… "The museum!" she exclaimed, running to the side and looking down. "Wonderful…and I already used my parachute and grapple. How the devil am I going to get down without breaking my neck?"
Her search brought her to a grimy drainage pipe and she sighed. "Always the hard way."
David ran past sets of archaic Greek armor and ducked under a mockup of a Greek tri-maran. He couldn't hear the mysterious figures but he knew they were close. Great, pros with sophisticated gear…five'll get you ten that they're the ones who gave Carla the assist. But why go to all this trouble? Why couldn't they have just found it themselves and taken the goods? David looked around the corner, then jerked his head back as bullets ripped into the wood of the boat's hull. Silencers, how considerate. David looked around, then looked up at the cable support lines holding the boat in place. He smiled for the first time that night, then reached down and pulled out his holdout, a 38. snub-nosed revolver. He aimed up at the support anchors and fired, chewing one loose, then two. The three figures dropped down where they were moving up on David's position, thinking he was firing on them. David looked at the remaining two supports, then looked at his gun. It had taken two shots each to pull the first two anchors loose.
David fired once at each support. The bullets hit the supports, but the anchors held. "Shit."
He heard them getting up. "Dammit!!" he snarled and ran forward, pushing against the ship on the platform. "Move it, goddam you!"
The three figures got up from the floor, hearing the desperation in David's voice and walking towards his hiding place. "Take him alive…the Master wants him alive," said one of the female figures, then stopped as she heard a groaning noise. She looked up and saw wood fill her vision, then a sharp pain, then nothing at all.
David moved out from behind where the ship used to sit and edged around where it now rested on the floor. Alarms were going off everywhere. "Now that's what I call a Greek tragedy," he quipped as he saw the blood seeping out from under the ship. He picked up one of the dropped submachineguns, pulling it free from the arm stretched out from the edge of the ship, then looked up.
The spear.
David hotfooted it down the hall, back towards the Achilles exhibit.
"So, honey, whatchoo doing for dinner later?" Flavio smiled as he drove towards the museum. "Never gone out with an archaeologist before. Must be pretty exciting stuff."
"You have no idea. Couldn't you perhaps drive a little faster?" Lara asked.
"What's the hurry? The night's still young…" Flavio smiled winningly. "…and so am I."
"I'm meeting a friend there…" Lara thought fast. "SHE and I are going to go clubbing see if we can meet some…wait." She moved closer to him, putting her hand on his shoulder. "You see, she and I have a special relationship. She means a lot to me, and we haven't seen each other in a long time. If you get me there fast, I'll talk to her about inviting you to our little reunion…that is, unless you don't like the idea of two women touching each other…"
She was immediately interrupted as Flavio stomped on the gas pedal and she fell back in her seat. Lara smiled as she righted herself. After all, one should always develop the skill if knowing the right thing to say in any social situation.
Number 12 stopped in front of the case, looking it over and removing his respirator and hood. Number 37 did the same. He smiled as he produced a key for the case and opened it. "Well, Carla, it's about time you got here," he added with great satisfaction.
"Your Masters were pretty persuasive," Carla added sourly. "Let's get this over with."
"Why are you in such a hurry? I thought you'd want to savor this. Not only have you made headlines with your discovery, but the theft of this will guarantee the luxuries of book and talk show deals…you'll be able to have your wildest dreams of fame and fortune come true." He took out the spear and turned to her. "Just look at it…isn't it marvelous? A thing of beauty."
"Yeah, whatever." Carla looked around. "Look, I'm tired of this. I just want what's coming to me. Just give me my cut and I'm outta here."
Number 12 handed the spear to Number 37 and nodded. "Right over there, Carla."
Carla turned and looked in the direction Number 12 had indicated, but only saw a statue. No briefcase packed with money. Then there was nothing at all.
Number 12 smiled as he cleaned his sword on Carla's evening gown. Number 37 shook her head. "Killing Carla was not part of the plan."
"The Masters will thank me for saving them the cost of paying off this idiot, and her death will confuse the matter. The police will be chasing their tails long after we've gone, and no one will know who truly stole the spear." Number 12 sheathed the katana. "They will be proud of me."
"Not likely, SPUD." The two assassins turned to see David turn the corner, holding a cellphone. "I'm afraid the police are gonna crash the party a little earlier than you expected."
"YOU…!" Number 12 turned to 37. "Kill him."
"We should just leave!" she protested.
"No witnesses! KILL HIM!"
Number 37 drew her blade.
David sighed. "It's going to be one of THOSE nights…"
"Here we are, beautiful." Flavio smiled as he slammed on his brakes in front of the museum. "Where is she?"
"She's probably inside…it is rather chill outside. Just wait RIGHT here. I'll be right back." Lara knew she was being cruel, but an arrogant young man's ego played second fiddle to David in Lara's book. Her suspicions were confirmed as she saw that the guardpost just inside was empty, as well as the front desk in the foyer. I suppose we'll just add one more piece of property damage to my bill, she mused, removing a small pack from her jumpsuit and placing it on the lock. It's getting to the point where I may have to start writing off the damage I cause on my journeys as a legitimate business expense.
Flavio watched her as she stepped back from the door. A large BANG shot through the air and he jumped, then looked around in a panic. Sirens and flashing lights appeared behind him, closing in on his position. Oh my gods, I just brought a master criminal to rob a museum and the second she hits the police, the police show up?? No wonder the crime rate is dropping! He started up the car and took off. "Sorry, girl, but no two girls are worth going to jail for!"
Lara chuckled as she saw her ride drive off. "Left in the lurch by a lech. Typical."
David heard the explosion and smiled. "Still some time to give it up, lady and gent. The cavalry just showed and the fat lady is on in five." The female agent advanced on him, holding the blade up warningly. She didn't waste time with talking, marking her as a pro. "Nothing to say, lady? No snappy patter? Just like a woman, wants me to do all the work…"
"How's this? I hope you enjoyed being in Lara's employ, Mr. Connors, because you're about to get fired…!"
"Fire, huh? Lucky I brought this." David pulled around a fire extinguisher, holding it like a club.
Number 37 moved forward, then stopped and started to chuckle, bringing the blade to bear. "You brought a club to a swordfight. It's a wonder why Lara Croft stomachs your presence for as long as she has."
That comment brought a hard edge to David's face and he yanked the pin on the extinguisher with a thumb, firing the chemical spray at Number 37 at point-blank range. The yellow dust filled her lungs, leeching the oxygen from her and she dropped the blade, grabbing her throat in a vain attempt to try and breathe. David suddenly swung the red tank around, nailing Number 37 on the side of her head and knocking her to one side. "Well, you know what they say, lady…'once I pull the pin on Mr. Fire Extinguisher, he is no longer your friend.'" David dropped the tank and picked up the katana. "Nice knife. Hey, Laughing Boy, where are ya? Don't tell me you ran out on dinner and left your girlfriend to pay the check! Now that's just wrong, buddy…"
Lara ran into the room, coughing at the haze of yellow in the room. "David!"
David turned around. "Lara! What kept you?"
Lara smiled. "Only you…DAVE!"
David raised an eyebrow, then turned suddenly and slashed with the sword, cutting only empty air as Number 12 ducked under the slash. "Mr. Connors…you talk too much." Number 12 shoved the spear forward, imbedding it in his stomach.
"DAVID!!"
David didn't hear Lara's cry, only felt a coldness spreading through his body. He didn't feel Number 12 rip the spear free, didn't see him running for the rope hanging from the skylight and throwing down a fist-sized object as the rope rose abruptly. All he knew was the cold…
"How is he?" Lara asked hopefully.
The doctor turned from David's side. "It's not good. The wound has been closed, the damage stitched up, but the wound isn't healing. I'm filling him with coagulants, but the medicine is only just holding off the internal bleeding. There some substance in his body that won't let him heal. Come with me." The doctor led Lara to a laboratory and held up a petri dish with spots of blue gel inside it. "I've tried every test I can think of, but I can't discern what this substance is. It's a metallic element that has a low melting point, approximately eighty degrees. Instead of a liquid state, it maintains a gel-like consistency up until the point where it becomes gaseous at just over one hundred and eighty degrees. In its gel state, it seems to act as an inhibitor for cell growth and regeneration. That's why David won't heal."
Lara looked at the substance for a long time. Dr. Wills studied it as well, then turned to see Lara's expression, intense and speculative. She took his clipboard and wrote a number on it, turning to Dr. Wills and said, "Collect as much of the residue as you can from David's body, then save it for me. Call me at this number as soon as you've collected all you can." She turned and walked towards the door to the lab.
"Where are you going?" Dr. Wills asked.
Lara opened the doors and turned back. "'That which wounds can heal.' I know what can cure him. I'm going to see a man in Paris." Her gaze intensified and she added in a voice of steel, "Keep David alive."
Then she was gone.
EPILOGUE
Somewhere in Greece, a lone man stood in front of a council of thirteen figures dressed in black robes, their appearance and genders shrouded in mystery. One of them stood above all, looking down at the man in the center of the chamber. Above them, a tapestry hung with a single symbol, a sun with thirteen rays and a spiral in the center, overshadowing all.
"Never in the history of our Conclave has someone that we've accepted into our ranks shown such levels of incompetence. If I were not so disappointed, angry and outraged, I would be impressed."
"My Lord…I only wished to save us the trouble and money of having to pay her off…"
"Be…silent." The voice reverberated through the chamber and the assassins' leader stopped. "All you have done is made matters worse. It was bad enough that Carla Toran asked a woman like Lara Croft to authenticate the findings. A simpler archaeologist would've suited well, but Carla's foolish pride allowed her to bring a wild element like Lara Croft, and her associate, David Connors, into this matter. But, despite their interference, the matter was still tractable." The King rose from his chair. "Alive, Carla would've stayed silent. The money was inconsequential, nothing. The theft would've been forgotten in a week with no leads and nothing to show. But now…now we have a murder, evidence of our agents left behind, increasing the apparent intrinsic worth of the theft. What's more, David Connors was attacked with the Spear, making a professional mystery a personal vendetta. What you saw as a convenience became a stumbling block, and now we have Lara Croft looking deeper into the matter."
"My Master…she is only one person. What could one person do?"
The King pointed his finger at the assassin and one of his aides stood up and leveled a gun at the object of the Master's wrath. The gun fired three times, two bullets entering the chest, the third entering the skull. "That," he said as the body fell to the floor. "I have had enough of incompetence. I refuse to report this embarrassing failure to the Mistresses, so you," he pointed to the assassin's lieutenant, "will succeed where he failed. Take your men and meet her in Paris. When she gets there…make sure she never leaves." He raised his hands upwards. "For the glory of the Hives!"
"FOR THE GLORY OF THE HIVES!!" the penitents below repeated, their cries shaking the walls of the chamber.
TO BE CONTINUED…