The Stranger

Reddler at the counter, finishing up her report. The printer beeped as the pages fell to the floor. She ignored them.

Jeffrey Martin sat facing her, examining his guns.

Beretta 92SBF. Heckler&Koch P7M8. Reddler had memorized the workings of hundreds of weapons long ago, when she had been first assigned to field missions.

She tried to concentrate on her work. Outside, thunder rumbled heavily. A cold, sharp pre-shower breeze wafted in. The night grew even darker.

"I've never seen you use a gun," she said, putting her pencil down. "I'm curious…do you use it at all?"

"I do, but only as a last resort," said Jeffrey, loading a fresh magazine. "I don't like to kill people."

"Not even the bad guys?"

"No. I'd rather incapacitate them, not kill."

"Very Zen. So you're like a classy martial arts guy?"

"I could be."

Reddler shut her laptop. "Cool! Can you show me some moves?"

"Maybe some other time," he said, putting the guns back into the sling. "There are some things I'd like to sort out."

"Let me guess," she said, sarcastically. "Why did those loons chase us? Ooh, tough one."

He took a deep breath and settled back in his chair. "Quiet, I'm thinking."

When he opened his eyes, he spied her with both hands on her mouth, rocking in silent laughter.

"What's so funny?" he said, glaring at her.

"I'm sorry," she said, gasping for air. "You look like a monk when you do that. And a very stupid one at that."

Jeffrey scowled. That made her explode into peals of laughter.

She stopped abruptly. "Hey, I remember now…you did take out your gun when Kayakova approached us, didn't you? How come you didn't use it on him?"

"It's an old trick. You take out a gun, so does he, and everyone's in for a gunfight. He doesn't expect fancy kicks and moves, just some pretty darn good shooting. So you take aim, and he's ready to pull the trigger, when you dodge and land a flying kick and he falls flat on his face. Simple, really."

"And that works? You'd have to be pretty dumb to fall for that."

Jeffrey grinned. "That's not a problem with Vitya Kayakova," he said.

Reddler smiled. Thank heavens Easton chose someone so lousy to kidnap her. Most of the assailants she'd helped capture were very smart. And very fast.

Coincidence?

She bent down to pick up the printouts when she heard soft, consistent beeps.

Reddler froze. She knew that sound only too well.

"What's that?" asked Jeffrey.

"Perimeter alarm," she said, getting up. But it was much more than that. Reddler had updated every security system on the estate herself. She'd fined-tuned every parameter and set the various alarms in concentric circles. And the sound she just heard was that of the final alarm. The closest circle. Whoever—or whatever had triggered it was inside the chateau, or at least very close.

She paced the kitchen with a puzzled look on her face. All the cameras and motion sensors had looping programs. The complex network of multidirectional commands was almost impossible to override. No one had the technology to do that, except for herself, of course. No one else could do it.

Or could they?

The final alarm had been set off, without the ones that should have preceded it. That meant someone had broken into her system and bypassed all the alarms, except for the last one. She scowled.

In the seconds that Reddler stood analyzing the situation, Jeffrey had already begun to move. Cocking his handgun, he stood very still, listening. There was no sound except that of the overhead thunder.

"I think our friends have decided to pay us a visit," he said.

Reddler wasn't so sure. Vitya and his cronies were too dumb to figure out their security systems. It had to be someone smart.

Helluva smart guy.

She went across the kitchen, opening the walk-in freezer. She disappeared in its soft blue glow for while, and then came out with two air guns. She tossed one over to Jeffrey.

"Linstradt," he said, grinning at the gun in his hand. "This I'm going to enjoy."

Both of them walked up the kitchen stairs and crouched in the landing above the hall. The door was open, swinging side to side in the wind. Reddler moved a few centimeters away, and lying flat on her stomach, tried to have a better look. There in the doorway, silhouetted against the soft rain-glow, was a very large man.

Reddler's mouth dropped. He was so huge; he could hardly be called a man. Surprise, surprise, he had gun in his hand. She squinted to make out its outline. Sig Sauer, 9mm. Damn.

Serious weapon.

Reddler frowned. From where Jeffrey was positioned, he wouldn't have a clear view of his adversary.

Who? , mouthed Jeffrey.

"It's not him. Not vitya," whispered Reddler. At that very moment, there was an ear-shattering thunderclap. Jeffrey strained to hear her reply, but all he could get wind of was 'It's …him…itya'. He smiled. So it was Vitya, he thought. Well, I'll take him down the easy way.

Reddler saw him smile. No, no, he didn't hear me! To her horror, she watched him get up and stride down the stairs. She tried to warn him, but he was already speaking.

"Vitya," he said, in a deep, prophetic voice. "You've made a very bad move."

The mountain in the hall cocked his head. "My name is not Vitya," he said in an even tone.

As soon as he said that, Jeffrey clutched his arm and fell face first down the stairs.

Reddler's jaw dropped. What just happened? What—what is going on? How could he get shot when that—that lump didn't move a muscle?

Her eyes darted to Jeffrey's body at the foot of the stairwell. He appeared to be uninjured. Sedative, said her brain. She noticed a slight shimmer near his knee. Heat haze? It's freezing in here…

She turned to the man in the hallway. At that instant, he turned his head upwards and met her eye. She didn't pause to think. Whirling backwards, she ran. Reaching the kitchen, she saw a shadow near the counter. She tightened her grip on the Linstradt, and inched forward.

Reddler's eyes widened at what appeared to be a very amused vampire, studying her nav. report with a smirk on his face.

As she came in, he looked up at her. He had raven hair and very pale skin. She realized that he must be quite near to her age. But somehow, the sight of him chilled her to the bone.

She held up her Linstradt and started to walk towards him, but he held her in his unflinching gaze. Suddenly Reddler felt a jab at her leg, and tripped forward. The Linstradt slid on to the floor, spinning towards him.

What did I trip over? There's nothing here but bare floor…there's that shimmer again…I should really get my eyes checked.

The boy casually cradled the air gun. "You really shouldn't get a gun if you don't know how to handle it." His voice was icy.

"Déjà vu," muttered Reddler as she pulled herself up. She poised for a forward tackle, but before she could make a move, something slammed into her, knocking her breath out. She hit the marble bottom of the counter, and something sharp hit her ribs. She almost cried out in pain, when she spied the man mountain perched on top of her, pulling something out of his pocket.

Addled with pain, Reddler felt the world tilt underneath her. She could taste blood in every painful breath. The raven-haired boy came over and crouched by her.

And then she felt the rain patter. It was so loud she half thought it was drumming on her head.

She felt the shimmer above her, and wondered if she should puzzle over it.

But she was spared that decision, as she next felt the sedative needle on her carotid, and there was a sharp sting.

She felt the boy's very blue eyes on her.

And then she felt darkness.

The ceiling is very low.

That was Reddler's first thought when she opened her eyes. She felt extremely sleepy and warm. She wanted to float back to sleep, when her brain started to gear up and she felt a tinge of alarm. She started to remember… an attack on the chateau…Jeffrey lying at the bottom of the stairs, his knee at a wacky angle…a heat haze…and blue eyes.

Why is the ceiling so low? , she thought for the second time. She felt groggy and her brain struggled to keep pace.

I must be in a cellar…or a very cramped dungeon.

And then Reddler felt the hum. It seemed to vibrate in the air. A quiet, mechanical hum. She felt it on her bunk, running lightly along her back. She then realized where she was.

A plane! I'm on a plane!

She started to get up, but felt a stab of pain in her ribs. Somewhere in the area of her left lung. It felt so intense after such a long time of restful sleep that she let out a whimper, falling back on the bunk.

"Do you need help?" said a deep, quiet voice at her side.

Reddler turned, and saw the huge man crouching down near her. She remembered the sedative at her neck, the very sharp sting. She suddenly felt angry.

"Do you want to get up?" he asked again.

Reddler pursed her mouth and remained obstinately silent. She tried to get up again, but the pain was nauseating. She gasped, and her eyes welled up with tears.

Get up, Reddler! You must look so helpless and stupid by now, she ordered herself. She felt another wave of nausea.

"All you have to do is ask. Or nod, if you're unable to do that," he said.

Reddler flinched inwardly and wanted very much to retort, but she hadn't the energy.

"Bathroom," she whispered weakly.

The next thing she felt was a huge hand on her back, and another on her shoulder. She was forced to her feet quite efficiently, but not without a few more tears of pain. She tried out her feet, and found that it wasn't so bad when she moved around. The man pointed to a hatch nearby, and she silently went to it and shoved it open.

The bathroom was fabulous, furnished with great taste and splendor. There was a Jacuzzi tub at the corner, and a gold-rimmed sink next to it. Reddler went there and leant against it weakly. She thought she was going to throw up, but she didn't. Instead, she just splashed some water on her face and straightened her hair. Feeling a little better, she looked at her reflection in the mirror. She still wore her trademark ecru trousers and sneakers. She had on a linen shirt, but it was crumpled and there were bloodstains on it. She lifted the shirt, and saw red bruises running down her chest. Her ribs were still sore, but there was a fresh bandage over them. The sight of the angry red bruises on her pale skin made her sigh.

Reddler smoothed out the shirt, and looked around her. No doubt her abductors were stinking rich. She decided that the plane was a Lear jet, after a rough estimate of the interiors. She wondered who had tended to her wounds while she was unconscious. Just the thought of one of them touching her made her feel dizzy.

Opening the hatch, she slowly eased herself out, wincing at the pain when she crouched down.

The huge man stood there, waiting. He extended a hand to help her out, but Reddler refused it. Keeping a measured distance from him, she said, "Maybe you should start explaining things a bit."

"I think you should lie down. We'll explain everything when we get there."

"Who's 'we'? And where exactly are we going?"

"I think you should lie down, Miss Croft," he repeated. His tone never changed.

"I should think not!" spat Reddler. As a reflex, she surveyed the room and tried to judge the escape routes. But the quick movements made her sway. She then caught a glimpse of his other hand. It held a fresh syringe. Filled with you can guess what.

"Not again!" she cried, the panic apparent in her voice.

"This is not a sedative," he said calmly, inching forward all the time. "We feel that you've had a bad reaction to the sedative, and it's dousing out the painkiller. And making you…very giddy, I think. It's more or less a countermeasure, mixed with an antipyretic, and you're in dire need of it."

"I don't care if it's the essence of life, I'm not taking it," she said, continuously backing away from him. She felt carpeted wall on her fingertips, and her heart sank. Her brain was moving so slowly she could hardly believe it was hers.

"We think you'll feel better once it's in your system," he said, reaching out to grab her arm.

"Again, who's 'we'?" she said angrily. "I assume the other one must be watching." She pointed to a close-circuit camera mounted near the ceiling. The man did not even spare a glance at it.

"You're very observant," he said, pinning her to the wall.

Reddler felt a jab on her arm, and instantly felt very warm. The floor seemed to melt away. She crumpled down, not heeding the ache down her ribs. Her eyelids felt heavy with sleep.

"You lied," she murmured. "This is a sedative."

"No, it isn't. It's only that your body is reacting to it that way." His voice seemed to echo, as if in a very big cavern. His towering figure seemed to grow taller about her, blurred with crazy colors. She distantly felt being lifted to her bunk, and warm covers around her.

"It was still a lie," she managed to whisper, before drifting to sleep.