Lara Croft and the Hammer of Thor, Part I: The Death of David Connors

By C. Mage

David woke up with a serious headache.

This was uncommon for two reasons. One, it was a Monday. David never had a reason to drink except for the weekends, and he rarely went on any serious drinking benders unless Lara wasn't home, which was common, and when he missed her, just as common. Second, when he woke up, he awoke in much more cheery surroundings. He started to rub his eyes and sat up.

That's when he realized he wasn't naked. David usually slept in the nude.

Alright…where did the hospital robes come from? For that matter, he added mentally, where did the hospital come from?? He looked around at the pastel blue walls, the window looking out over what appeared to be the seashore. The weather outside was bright, but his mood was dark. It was summer in England, which made it rainy and overcast most of the time.

The door opened and a man came in, followed by a nurse. He was not dressed as a doctor, however. He wore a brown leather jacket, a turtleneck gray shirt, slacks and low-quarter shoes. "Well, well. Glad to see you're awake, Mr. Connors."

"Where am I?"

"You had a rather nasty fall, Mr. Connors. Your car took a trip off a bridge. Seems that someone doctored your brakes."

"That's a wonderful story. Except the last thing I remember was going to grab some files from Oxford. I wasn't driving when I blacked out. I was…sitting in the library."

"Sorry about that. I'm afraid the deception was necessary. My name is Daniel Riggs. I've called you here on a matter of national security."

"'Called', huh? That's a nice way of putting it. I want my frickin' phone call."

"Phone calls are for prisoners. Hate to say it, David, but you're a corpse." Riggs tossed David a folded newspaper. David looked at Riggs and opened it up. He blinked as he saw his name under the Obituary section. "You can't make any calls. Your funeral is on Saturday. Quite the to-do, I hear a lot of people are showing up, half to mourn your death and the other half to confirm it. Probably so they can sleep easier, I guess."

"This had better be a joke, pal…or I won't be the only one here needing medical attention," snarled David, ripping the paper in two.

"Darn. I wanted to read the funnies." Riggs smiled. "This is no joke, David. This is real. I need your expertise." David started to get out of bed, then stopped as he saw Riggs pull a pistol from under his jacket, lightning-fast. "Now, David, we just finished getting you all better. I can't afford to have to send you back full of holes. Just hear me out and you can make a miraculous recovery, somebody will discover you alive and well with a little memory loss and you'll be back with your girl before you know it."

"Who the hell are you? CIA? NSA? FBI? UGA?"

"Actually, David…it might help to think of it this way. If the U. S. Government was a family, the company I work for would be the second cousin on the father's side that no one ever talks about. This is a great country, but the freedoms that we have come at a price. That price is that sometimes it is necessary to subvert the law in order to preserve it. You ever heard the saying, 'Sometimes the tree of liberty must be watered with the blood of patriots and tyrants'?"

"Yeah. So?"

Riggs smiled. "I'm one of the gardeners."

"Which brings me to my next question. WHY?"

"Glad you asked." He pulled up a chair and sat down. "What do you know about the hammer of Thor?"

"Pretty much everything. Thor, Norse god of thunder and storms. Pretty strong guy, but had a soft spot for mortals and underdogs. Sworn enemy of the frost giants from the realm of Niflheim, fought them and kept them at bay. He fought them mostly out of a trick his half-brother, Loki, played upon him. He faced one of the giants, a big guy named Geirrod. After almost being turned into a chandelier by two giantesses, Thor goes after Geirrod. The giant took a piece of molten iron and threw it at Thor, who caught it using a pair of metal gauntlets, then threw it back at Geirrod. Thor threw it so hard that it went through Geirrod as well as the pillar he was hiding behind. Another account has it as a gift a dwarf was making as part of a bet he made with Loki, as well as a few other items for the Norse gods. With its power, Thor could call and direct lightning, thunder, and make and direct storms." David stopped. "What's your point?"

"We recently received word that a British agent from MI-6 went rogue. He found out about Mjolnir and financed a search for the weapon."

"So he decided to quit and take up artifact collecting. What's the big deal?"

"We acquired some of his files and discovered that he's got plans for the hammer. He's certain that it can give him the ability to take over the world."

"Buster, do you have any idea how cracked that sounds? 'Take over the world'…do you know how pulp fiction you're sounding? And you went to all this trouble to fake my death and screw up my life for this?? You guys should really start re-thinking using the term 'intelligence' to describe what you're doing."

"This is no joke, Mr. Connors. He's gone crazy, thinks it's time to bring back the realm of Jotunheim. To do it, he's planning on using the hammer to create a world of ice and snow, by creating a worldwide blizzard. And I know this agent well. I've worked alongside him and against him a few times. His code name is 'Bloodwing', but his real name is Jurt Haufmann." Riggs took out a black & white photo and handed it to David. "One of the few pictures taken of him."

"And what has this got to do with the price of beer?"

"Your country needs your help to stop him."

"In case you haven't noticed, I live in England."

"But you grew up in America and you had access to one of the greatest resources in the world about this time period. Lara Croft's files."

"Then why not talk to Lara about this?"

"Don't be ridiculous. First off, this is a delicate matter. I need one of the best, one who knows how to handle themselves in tense situations. I don't need Dr. Spock, I need Indiana Jones."

"Not enough."

"I also need someone who will look out for his country in this. I know you, David. You're a patriot."

"STILL not enough." David crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"I need someone who knows the Norse mythos and can follow it. I need someone who's not going to drop the ball if things get dicey."

"Unless you've got something else included in this little ego-boo, I'm staying right here."

"Alright, Mr. Connors. I need someone who'll care if something bad happens to Lara Croft."

David stopped. "I must still be having a reaction from that drug you pumped me with…it sounded an awful lot like you just told me you'll kill Lara Croft if I don't help you."

"I didn't say anything of the sort. But if this guy succeeds, billions are going to die. Including Lara Croft. Now, if it's by Bloodwing's hands or mine…well, at least mine'll be quicker than becoming a Croft-sicle."

"You're nuts, you know that? You are barking-at-the-moon mad. You're just as nuts as this 'Bloodwing' punk."

"Maybe, but there's a difference. I'm doing it to preserve lives around the world and our way of life. He's doing it because he thinks the world is too corrupt, that if the gods are too lazy to bring about Ragnarok, then he'll take over for them."

"You're a murderer. One or eight billion, murder is murder."

"I'm a pragmatist. What's more, I'm a patriot."

"And no one holds you accountable."

"Oh, I am accountable, Mr. Connors."

"To whom? God?"

"No…just the President." Riggs smiled. "I'll come back after you've thought it over for a while. Just remember, Mr. Connors. No tricks. You may be one of the best you are in your chosen field, but I am the best. It pains me to have to resort to such desperate tactics, but it's a desperate mission. If you were officially still alive, Bloodwing would have killed both you and Lara to keep you off his trail. Now Lara will be busy mourning and Bloodwing won't even see you coming. Inconvenient, yes…but you are both still alive."

"Won't he recognize me? If this guy is as resourceful as you say, he's probably memorized my face as well as Lara's."

"That's alright. I gave you a new face."

David's eyes widened and he looked around for a mirror. Riggs waited patiently as David found a mirror and looked into it. A stranger looked back at him from the reflective surface. Everything was different, including his hair color. "Holy crap…you made me a blonde??"

"Maybe you'll have more fun. Don't worry, it's completely reverseable." David looked up at Riggs. "Any further questions?"

"Yeah…you got one of those stupid code names too?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. Call me 'Badger' from now on. I'll be back after lunch." The door closed behind Badger as he left the room.

David sighed. "Geez, he could've at least left me something to drink…"

"Would you like some tea, sir?"

Jurt looked up at Mannfred. "Yes, please." He turned back to Lara Croft, still dressed in black. Her face was haunted, her eyes red. "Lady Croft, allow me to say that you have my deepest sympathies for your loss."

"He's not dead…he can't be dead…" She shook her head. "It's impossible…"

"Lady Croft, I believe you. In fact, it distresses me to have to be the one to tell you this." He took out his wallet and handed it to her.

Lara took it and looked at it. Her mind was still in neutral at the news. It was all so unreal. As she looked at the badge, she focused slightly. "MI-6…British Intelligence? What's all this?"

"Lady Croft, I regret to inform you that what happened to David was no accident. Details of the crash were left out to avoid compromising an ongoing investigation headed by my organization." He handed her a black & white photograph of a man wearing a pair of mirrorshade sunglasses. "He is known as the 'Badger', a rogue CIA operative. Recently, he became aware of certain documents compiled during World War II. These documents detailed information about a weapon called 'Mjolnir'."

Lara looked up. "The hammer of Thor?"

"The same. These documents, well…they suggest that this weapon is not a myth after all. In fact, if they're even halfway accurate, this hammer may one of the most powerful artifacts in mankind's history."

"What does that have to do with David??"

"Out of all the people in the world, you have the most comprehensive documentation of that time period and geographic location. I suspect that the Badger knew this, and wanted to take you out of the picture. You were at home while David was abroad, and he likely knew of your relationship with him. I came here to tell you that, and that you may very well be in danger."

Lara looked up, an expression of cold rage on her face. "Let him come. He's going to pay for what he did to David. I swear, by Harry, I will make him pay and pay and pay again…!!"

"Lady Croft, this is not your fight. The Badger is an operative, one of the deadliest people on the planet."

"And you think I'm not right at this moment?" she snarled back.

"Lady, please. You are trained to discover, to learn, to fight. This man has been trained to kill. He is a strategist, a tactician. If you go after him, you'll be at a serious disadvantage."

"I'm NOT going to sit here while David's murderer walks around free!!"

"I'm afraid I must ask you to do just that. I have to admit, I have broken agency protocol. I shouldn't even be here, but you have been of great service to the Crown. I considered it a gross injustice that you were kept in the dark about all this." He stood up. "I must insist that you take whatever precautions are necessary to guard yourself until we have neutralized this threat. I also respectfully request permission to access your library, in the hopes that we might be able to anticipate his next move."

Lara turned to him. "Your request is declined, with all due respect."

"Pardon me?"

"You heard me. You are barred from my library. The only way you'll be able to access the information that lies within my books is through me." Lara removed her veil. "And that means I'm going to be the one to find Mjolnir. You can either assist me, or get out of my bloody way."

"Lady Croft…"

"Not another word. You accept my involvement or get out of my home." Her voice was steel.

"Is there nothing I can do to change your mind?"

"Nothing on earth or in Heaven."

Jurt sighed. "I should not have come. I should've anticipated this."

"Too bad. Now help me."

"I can't help you. I don't have the clearance to authorize this."

"Then get someone who can before I do it for you. And believe me when I say you don't want me getting clearance on my own." She turned to Mannfred. "Pack my things. Cold weather gear."

"Yes, mum."

Jurt looked at Lara quizzically. "Do you know where the hammer is??"

"No, but I know the best place to start looking. And if I'm lucky, the Badger will look there too." Lara smiled, a cold, dangerous smile. "I'll be waiting for him."

Jurt, at that moment, decided that he never wanted her to smile like that when she talked about him.

Lara turned to Jurt on the plane. "Tell me about this Badger."

"Lady Croft…"

"TELL ME."

Jurt sighed. "Do you have any idea how many rules I am breaking to tell you what I am about to tell you?"

"There are no rules, Jurt. Now tell me. I need to know my adversary."

Jurt was suddenly glad he and Lara were the only ones in the passenger compartment of the Learjet. "Badger was once a man named Daniel Riggs. CIA right out of college, top marks in his class, top one percent in his training. The cream of the crop, as they say. He spent several years in covert operations, where he excelled at his chosen fields: sniper, demolitions, counter-intelligence. I met him while we worked together against a man who thought to use a group of hackers to crash both Wall Street's systems and the systems at the Tokyo Exchange."

"Needless to say, you were both successful."

"We're not in a world of anarchy." Jurt smiled at that, then sobered. "But something happened to him after that. The world changed. The liberties he had before were no longer available. In one of the last communications we had, he told me that he was burning with discontent of the ones in authority over him. Called them weak-willed, impotent, unwilling to do what needed to be done. I think he may have suffered distress when the Towers went down, anger towards terrorists of every nation. In his last words to me, he told me that there must be a price to be paid for violating the sanctity of the American way of life. He swore that he would 'stop the fire of terrorism by creating greater fires in the homes of the firestarters'. Extremely articulate of him. In fact, he seemed to grow more and more verbose as he sunk into obsession. He used to talk like a street-level hood. Now he sounds like a Yale professor."

"How nice for him. Do you have any idea what his plans are?"

"I think he believes that Mjolnir's power exists. Whether such a ludicrous thing is true is immaterial; he'll cause the deaths of many if he is not stopped. Now, quid pro quo. Where do we need to go to find him?"

"The next logical step for him would be to look in the Archives of the Abbey of St. Morene. There's a church in Helsinki that looks like a small country church, but underneath its foundations lie a storage complex for some of the most important documents in the history of the Roman Catholic church. Besides the priests that manage the Archives and the Cardinals in Rome, there were six people in the world who knew of the existence of the Archives. Now there are five."

Jurt didn't have to ask who the sixth person was. David Connors. "I know you…"

"Save it. I will mourn my loss when I see to it that the Badger's pelt is on my wall. And no, Bloodwing…that was not in the figurative sense," said Lara through set teeth. "Tell the pilot to turn the nose towards Helsinki and to increase the throttle. We have an annoying rat to catch."

"Alright, Badger…I'm in. But if this is a put-up job, I don't care how powerful you are on paper, I'm still going to kick your ass all the way to Nepal and back."

"Good. Where to first?"

"If this guy's as good as you say he is, I can only think of one place in the world where he'd try to go. Let me ask you something. If only six people in the world knew of the existence of something…"

"Then he'd be number seven, sooner or later."

"Great." David rubbed his throat. "I can't believe you even changed my voice."

"Just altered it enough so any voiceprint analyzers looking for your voice on the communications nets won't find you immediately. We can't take any chances. Where is this place you're talking about?"

"It's an ancient library under a church in Helsinki. One of the Vatican's dirty little secrets. Tons of documents were hidden here to keep them from being destroyed by papal decrees, as well as to preserve documents having to do with the occult. The church itself is about the size of a gas station, but the underground Archives is the size of a football field. By now, they've probably put up state-of-the-art security systems there instead of the traps they had when they first built it."

"That'll be my department. What do you need to do in there?"

"There's a book in there that has an unabridged version of the Thorsdrapa, an epic poem that details how Thor got Mjolnir in the first place. The full version goes on to tell more about the hammer, and I think it has some valuable clues to where it might be found." David turned to Badger. "You get me in, and I'll find the book."

"I'll get you in."

"Think Bloodwing will get in the same way?"

"I don't think so. I prefer misdirection over destruction. Bloodwing? He doesn't think the job's done unless the body count reads like the population of your average baseball stadium. If he knows about the book and tries for it, you'll know. Everyone in the freaking time zone will know."

"Would he be careless as to destroy the book in the process?"

"Oh no. He's not careless. He's never careless."

"Then why does he lean towards that kind of destruction?"

Badger looked at David levelly. "Because he likes it."

"Great. Another maniac who enjoys his work."

"Don't call him a maniac." Badger's voice, almost defensive.

"Then what is he?"

Badger sat back. "I don't think there's really a name for what he is. Simply calling him a maniac is like classifying snowflakes. He's unique. He doesn't fit into any old pigeonhole, David. You do that and you'll underestimate him. Underestimate Bloodwing and you'll find yourself filling a pine box."

"He's that brutal."

Badger nodded. "Let me tell you a story about Bloodwing. Seems there was this scientist he was supposed to protect. The scientist had some vital information that her employers didn't want to get made public. Well, it goes that the team he was working with dropped the ball and a team of five men came in to try and kidnap the scientist. You know what they found? Bloodwing, standing next to the scientist, a gun to her sleeping head. 'Move another step closer and you go home empty-handed,' he said. They thought he was bluffing and moved in. BAM! Her brains are all over her bedsheets. The action catches the hostile team by surprise. BAMBAMBAMBAMBAM! Down they go. He kept his word, though. The hostile team was shipped home in body bags. Of course, Bloodwing's employers were ticked, but they had all the data the scientist was working on, so they weren't too mad. A shame, though."

"Yeah, no shit, he killed a person in cold blood."

"True…but she was also a babe." Badger smiled.

"Do you have any idea how twisted that sounded?" David stared at Badger.

"It's all part of the Game. Bloodwing plays the Game to win, and he never bluffs."

David sighed as he leaned back in his seat on the plane. "I hope Lara's okay."

"She'll be fine. According to her records, she picked up a train ticket to see her father at home."

"I can't imagine what she must be going through…I was getting ready to propose to her."

"Did she know this?"

"I don't know. I don't think so." He turned to Badger. "You really hosed up my life, you know that?"

"You'll get it back. Better that than to spend your summer honeymoon in a world where snow-skiing is the only pastime and ice-fishing is the only source of food."

"Did you see this coming?"

Badger didn't answer, not at first. "I didn't think it was possible. I should've known better, the veiled references to Norse mythology, talk about Ragnarok…but I soon realized that he wanted to do more than just work on archaeology. He's got a network of operatives, fanatically loyal. I have to tell you, David. This guy scares me."

"Well, he doesn't scare me. I've met his kind before."

"Trust me on this, David Connors. You have never met a man like Bloodwing before. You make any assumptions about him and you're already dead. And don't let pride get in the way. Pride's killed more men than AIDS."

"Okay, okay. I get the picture. Don't fuck around when it comes to him."

"Damn straight."

"Okay. How soon can we get to Helsinki in this thing?"

"Ten hours."

"Can you do what it takes to get me in there if I tell you where it is?"

Badger nodded. "I'll have the equipment for you by the time we land."
"I take it you do this sort of thing all the time?"

Badger smiled broadly. "David, they don't come any better at 'this sort of thing'."

"Good. The sooner I get this done, the sooner I can go back to my old life and my old face."

"Oh, I don't know. Lara might like this face better."

David looked at Badger. "Yours might look better with another nostril two inches north of the ones you already have."

"Just joking."

"I'm laughing."

David looked through the binoculars at the church. Quiet, serene, lonely. The small church was apparently in desperate need of repair, but services were held regularly. David adjusted the lens on the binoculars and looked through it again. This time, the lasers were visible, crisscrossing the field, turning it into one huge checkerboard. Small dots along the ground in a concentric circle pattern hinted at the land mines all around the church, just waiting to be armed by a signal from inside. Catholic guys are scary. David shrugged, then moved down towards the field. One thing you can't deny about Badger: he knows where all the neat toys are. I thought Lara had some bleeding-edge gear, but this stuff makes her gear looks like a Boy Scout's mess kit. He moved towards the main door, crouching low and keeping close to the treeline. Clever. Forest growth cut back a good hundred yards, made to look natural, instead of being a trap. Trees made to look like great hiding places, until you notice the traps linked to the remote perimeter defense systems. Land mines, proximity charges, silenced automatic weapons on gyromount-equipped mobile turrets made to look like the landscape. Nobody knows how to quietly say "Keep out or die" like a Catholic. He looked down at his suit, a full bodysuit with a strange surface, felt like cloth, moved like rubber. Let's hope this thing hides me as well as Badger says it does, or I'm going to have a truly spiritual experience. Called Death.

David took a deep breath and took his first steps under cover of darkness, waiting to be fired upon. He closed his eyes and waited. After ten seconds, he opened his eyes once more. Holy crap. It worked. David moved towards the doors, pulling the hood over his face to hide his features, then entered the church quickly. As expected, the church was vacant, woodcut pews and stained-glass windows. Wow. Old-school. If I didn't know about the Archives, I'd never suspect anything…except that this place was a fixer-upper. He checked over the building, moving to the altar. He examined it thoroughly. Even though his suit was designed to allow his skin to breathe, David was still starting to sweat. Where is the switch, damn you…even if it's an electronic lock, there has to be a backup release…there had BETTER be one…

He felt it before he heard it. A click underneath the altar. David moved behind the counter where the choir was supposed to sit, hoping that Badger was right about the suit masking him from cameras. If so, he was a sitting duck and only divine intervention would make sure he'd live to see ten minutes from now. The altar slid aside and three men exited, all wearing monk's robes. None of them bore weapons or sought him out in the choir's seating.

David moved out and went down the steps under the altar, hearing the altar sliding into place above his head. He continued down, the stone walls giving way to metal. So far, so good. David tried to tell himself he was calm, but his heart was beating out a heavy metal drum solo in his ribcage. Not for the first time that hour, he wished Lara was there.

As he moved deeper, he ran into the first real obstacle: the hallway leading to the Archives was barred by a series of offices, with their own checkpoints. He pulled back into the corner and opened up his pack, taking out a set of monk's robes. Place this close-knit, everyone knows everyone else. He took out a folded-up flesh-colored object, opening it up and pulling it over his head, then checked his features against an ID card, then a hand-held mirror.

The face matched.

I wonder how Badger made sure this guy wasn't showing up for his transfer. On second thought, maybe I don't. I thought the Jesuits were fanatics, but this guy… David shook his head. This guy is driven. Real "burn the village to save it" type. What bothers me is, what is this guy going to do if he gets the hammer and it turns out to be as powerful as he says it is? Is he going to use it to protect the American Way of Life? And if so, am I going to "disappear"?

David stroked his false cheeks. Focus, Dave. Worry about Badger killing you later. These guys will kill you now if you're distracted. He took a deep breath, then walked around the corner, heading straight for the first checkpoint.

Lara adjusted her parachute rig, then looked up at Bloodwing. "How much longer until we're over the target?"

He checked his watch, an expensive Swiss wristwatch. "Five minutes twelve."

"I can hardly wait."

"You sound eager to challenge these priests. Be warned, they aren't shy priests poring over books. Most, if not all, are likely trained soldiers in the service of their church, much more than patriots. These are crusaders, only they're protecting stolen secrets, secrets kept from all but the Pope and his closest associates. If any of it were to get out, the Vatican would likely be extremely embarrassed."

"Then I'll have to make sure it doesn't get out." Lara's voice was grim as she adjusted her breathing apparatus.

"Dare I ask what you have in mind that you disregarded my offer to help you get in without being noticed?"

"Oh, you can ask…but you better ask in the next few moments. I'm in a hurry. I have a plane to ditch."

"I need you to help me, Lady Croft. You will not be of much help dead."

"I am not allowed to die until I have a little talk with Badger." She snapped her helmet strap in place. "I have sworn an oath to make that happen. Now open the bloody door."

"You'll have to open your chute at an extremely low altitude to avoid detection."

"I know."

"Have you ever made a HALO jump before?"

Lara smiled. "Many times. For fun. It's quite soothing." She walked to the door as it opened. "I'll see you at the rendezvous point."

"Be careful. Badger himself may be there."

"Oh I hope so. I truly do." She turned and leaped from the plane, spreading her arms and legs to catch the air and steer her descent. As soon as she saw the church from afar, she closed her arms by her side and straightened her legs, increasing speed, hurtling towards the church. Her eyes blazed under her goggles as she thought about David, dead on orders from Badger. He remembered the words from a Western she had seen with David months before: "I'm coming, and Hell's coming with me."

She gritted her teeth and said with finality, "I'm coming, Badger…and Hell's coming with me!"

David walked past the third checkpoint, walking as if he knew exactly where he was going. So far, his ID card and façade had succeeded in fooling the guards. Badger, despite his moral vacuum, at least didn't miss anything when it came to forgery. David moved along the hallways, finding a bathroom and walking inside. He checked the stalls casually, then went to the mirror. He was just about to open his mask to let some of the perspiration out when he saw the camera in the reflection of the mirror. Must be tough to be so untrustworthy. Wonder if the Better Business Bureau knows about this. He decided to suffer the mask a bit longer, leaving the bathroom and walking towards the rear of the base. He walked past the cubicles, noting monks in old-fashioned robes working on computers and PDAs. He also noted that there was a gun cabinet in every cubicle section and that none of these monks looked as fat or as jolly as Friar Tuck.

David found his way to the main library and stopped dead. The shelves were marked in an alphanumeric code, and he had the sinking feeling he was going to have to find it using an index of some sort…and that meant accessing the computer. That means hacking it. And that means that if they realize I'm hacking in, they could lock the place down. I'll have the info, but I'll be trapped.

He sighed inwardly. I hate to do this, but I guess I'll have to manage a serious distraction. And I'm afraid I know just what it is. David walked to one of the nearby terminals, taking out a PDA of his own, attaching it to the mainframe with a USB cable. He watched as the PDA synched to the desktop, then faked a primary membership to the system. Alright...now...where are you?

He began to type a search into the system, wondering how much time he had before all hell broke loose.

Lara watched the ground come up at her, checking her altimeter watch. The numbers bled away, but still she waited. Four thousand feet and dropping. She looked straight down, not looking at the watch anymore. She knew how far up she was, a talent she'd developed from her skydiving experiences. She waited until she could practically read the number of shingles on the roof, then she yanked the ripcord. The parachute came out just in time to slow her descent just enough to keep her from becoming a pancake, then she pulled the release. Even bracing herself, Lara still felt the impact as she crashed through the roof, landing on the floor of the church and crumpling to dissipate some of the shock. She would not allow herself to black out, however. Her hate was stronger than the pain. By the time the altar opened up once again to allow the first of the guards forth, Lara had already placed a series of surprises for the guards.

Surprises marked, "Semtex."

Come on, you bastard…where are you? David started feel the first twinges of panic. He'd been there for ten minutes, seven of those hacking into the system. He was certain he'd be surrounded by guards any second, but he had so far eluded detection. So far.

Finally, an entry came up on the screen. Aisle 120, Section 57, Shelf 3, Article 12-R. Thank you very much. He pulled the cable out, trying not to look like he was in a hurry, then walked towards the shelves. He grimaced mentally as he discovered that he was walking past Aisle 1. A long walk to take in such a short time. Do not hurry. Do NOT hurry. You hurry and you might as well strip off your clothes and scream at the top of your lungs.

David had reached Aisle 78 when he felt the shuddering in the floor. He felt a sinking sensation in his gut as he realized what it was. An explosion.

NOW you can hurry.

Lara waved aside some of the smoke and looked down into the hole, her nightvision goggles in place. She drew her guns, twin Scorpion MP5s with dual clips taped together, and slapped the chambers to prime them. "Can't do much complaining if they never know what hit them." She smiled, pulling her woolen mask over her face, then let her submachineguns hang on the straps under her arms. She drew out Bloodwing's package, placing it in front of the stairs going down and pulled the pin on it. She deactivated her nightvision goggles and her other gear, taking her time, waiting for the people inside to rush to their battle-stations. Lara smiled and pressed the ARM button on the device, activating the ten-second countdown. As she took up her guns again, she took them off SAFE and waited.

The guards reached the top of the stairs, also wearing nightvision goggles, just in time for the mini-pinch to go off, sending an electromagnetic pulse in a two-hundred yard radius around her. The pulse moved through the open entrance, and radiated through the complex. The doors, opened to allow the guards and monks to move to their assigned places, were now sealed open, the hydraulic systems frozen. The lighting and surveillance systems were rendered useless and blind. The computer systems were taken offline, and it would take the backups a day to return to normal. The storage tapes were erased, removing any chance of storing her image anywhere.

"Sorry, mates…but you of all people should know that you've been dealing with things you shouldn't be, and that there is an inherent risk of getting your hands burned. Well, boys, I'm afraid I'm going to have to bring…" She raised the Scorpions. "…the heat."

Men came forth from the stairs and things became very loud.

David turned on his flashlight. "Great. This can't be a coincidence. Wonder if it's this Bloodwing person?" He reached Aisle 120 and started to scan the sections. "Alright…it would be on a parchment, pretty thick, maybe stretched a bit. Scrollcase…scrollcase…" He stopped as he found the shelf, picking out a thick scrollcase. It was made of bone, with gold caps, extremely ornate. Worthy of holding a long, great tale. He nodded and opened the case, sliding out the scroll and reading the first set of runes. Bingo.

Then he heard the voice behind him.

"What are you doing here? We're at Stage One alert!"

David turned. "I think I know why they're attacking. It's because of this. I came to get it. I didn't want them to get it."

"How do you know what they want?"

Whoops. "I heard some of them talking on their communicators before the power went out. I couldn't be sure, but it was better to be safe."

The monk looked at him. "I'm surprised, Brother Francis. You never struck me as a man of action."

"The Lord moves in mysterious ways. I know not why I thought it needed to be done, but I feel it is imperative to remove it."

The monk looked at him carefully, then nodded. "Very well, Brother, carry on. Make sure it is sent to the Enclave with the zip tubes."

"Of course." David nodded and headed around the shelf to move towards the back. That's when he heard the click of the hammer behind him.

"Where are you going, Brother Francis? The zip tubes are in the other direction."

Holy. Crap. "They are? I suppose I got turned around…"

"Do not insult my intellect. Everyone who works here can find their way to any aisle and section blindfolded. Who are you? Are you with the ones trying to blast this place apart? Tell me what I want to know or you can die right here."

"Look, I'm not with those people. I just came in to check something out for a couple of weeks. I promise. I've got my library card right here…" Think fast, wabbit. He reached under his robes.

"Drop the weapon and kick it over here."

David pulled out a pistol, dropping it and kicking it over to the man. He held his breath as the monk picked up the gun and examined it. "Strange sort of automatic, don't recognize it. What kind of gun is this?" Then his eyes rolled up in his head and he dropped like a rock.

David smiled, but didn't take a breath until he made it to Aisle 80. "Haaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh…it's called a gas gun. Problem is, it only seems to work on the person aiming it…" He broke into a run, sticking the scrollcase in his pouch and putting his nightvision goggles back on. He started to worry when he saw a warm haze near the entrance. Smoke...the place is under attack, alright. But I don't see the usual stormtroopers. This place had thirty men. What happened to the other twenty-nine?

He walked through the cubicle area. Monks were lying all over the floor, all armed, brass casings all over the floor. Where did everyone go? What happened to these guys?

Then he heard another click and felt a cold pressure just behind his right ear. "Hello. I was wondering you could help me. I seem to be a bit lost. Could you kindly direct me to where the Thorsdrapa is located?"

LARA!!! He turned slightly. "Lara Croft?"

"You know me. Splendid. I hope that this means things will be done more efficiently."

"Lara…"

Lara pushed the barrel harder into the side of his head. "That's Ms. Croft to you. Now cooperate. Please. Don't make me kill you and look for it myself."

David suddenly realized that Lara's voice had a hard edge to it. That's why all the monks were dead. They made the mistake of pissing her off, and she didn't recognize him. Holy steaming crap…she's here and she thinks I'm dead. If she's here, then that means only one thing: Bloodwing put her up to it. Which means that if I do anything except give her the last thing in the world I want Bloodwing to have, she's going to kill me!

David suddenly wasn't as glad to see her as he hoped he would be…

TO BE CONTINUED….