Wheee! More already! XD Thanks for the reviews people. But I'm quite shocked that you don't seem to like Daniel... how could this be? (snickers) Hehe. Enjoy.

Chapter 6: Assignment One

When I got back to my room I went straight to the bathroom and locked myself in. I wanted to be clean even more than I wanted food, and I was ravenous. After leaving Gunderson's office, Kurtis had promised to bring me some food, but I had no idea how long that would take. I eyed the flimsy bolt on the bathroom door doubtfully, then went back to the bedroom and fetched the wooden chair from in front of the dressing table. With the chair jammed under the door handle I felt slightly more comfortable about undressing and taking a shower. I needed time alone without interruption to come to terms with what was happening here.

As I unravelled my long braid in the steaming water, I thought about what Gunderson had said. Something about 'certain talents' of mine that would come in useful. My knowledge of Egyptian tombs and ancient hieroglyphs would almost certainly be required. How much did Kurtis and Gunderson know about my last experience in Egypt? Did they realise I had come closer to death than ever before? That the experience had forever changed me, deep down, and that I had barely been able to even open a book on Egypt since? As I fumbled with the lid on the shampoo, I realised my hands were shaking. The bottle fell from my hands and I sank to my knees in the bathtub, suddenly weak. I don't know how long I sat there, arms curled tight around my knees as the water poured down over my face, blank with despair. I was trapped between two of my greatest fears: ahead of me lay Egypt and its dark secrets; behind me, my loved ones were held in mortal danger.

Some time later I returned to the bedroom wrapped in a bathrobe and sat down at the dressing table to dry my hair. As I shifted in my seat the doorway to my room came into view in the mirror, and I jumped as I saw someone standing there. Kurtis stood there watching me, a bulky package under one arm. I switched off the dryer and put it down.

"What do you want?" I asked without turning round.

"Paul's just fetching you something to eat," he replied casually.

"It's about time," I muttered, pulling a comb through my damp hair. He was still there watching me when I glanced up at my reflection again.

"What is it?" I said impatiently. "No wait, don't tell me. You've decided to supervise my mealtimes. To make sure I don't conceal any cutlery to stab you with at a later date."

He smiled lazily. "No. We've got a job for you."

I scowled, and turned to face him. "I thought my services weren't needed until we got to Egypt. Or do you need help tying your shoelaces?"

"Ha ha," he replied, straight-faced. "True, we need you in Egypt, but the operation starts on board this ship. You don't think we always travel by cruise liner, do you?" He wandered over to the bed and put down the package he was carrying. "There's a man on board the ship who knows a lot about the region where the artefact is buried. He's something of a tycoon; owns a lot of land out there, and funds a lot of research. The artefact that we're looking for is in part of an ancient city still half-buried under land that he controls. Our employers have been trying to get onto this land for a long time, offering all kinds of deals to get to excavate there. So far, he's rejected them. He's used to foreigners sniffing around for anything valuable, and he suspects that they're onto something big. Now he wants to find out what it is for himself."

I didn't blame him. I could feel an itch of curiosity growing in my own mind as Kurtis talked. He was being deliberately vague about the artefact and his employers, and although my head was filled with questions I bit them back, not wanting him to see how interested I really was. "So where do I fit into this?"

"That's easy. You're Lara Croft; famous adventurer, expert on Egyptology, blah blah blah. He likes to think of himself as quite the expert too, so he's likely to want to show off about all his investments. There's an event in the ballroom after dinner tonight, for the first night of the cruise. All we want you to do is go along, get talking to this guy, act like he fascinates you. He'll love it. And the best part is that he has absolutely no reason to link you to our employers."

I frowned. "So basically, you want me to flirt with him, and then report back to you. It's not exactly the most elaborate plan I've ever heard."

"Well, we have faith in your abilities," Kurtis smirked in reply. "I'm sure you can charm the pants off the guy without even trying." I opened my mouth to protest, but he held up a hand. "Hey, I didn't mean literally."

I turned back to the mirror and carried on combing my hair. "Well, you've obviously thought this through well. So, what would you like me to wear? Jeans? Or shorts, maybe?"

"Don't worry about that," he said, and started to open the package that lay on the bed. I turned and looked at it. The square white box looked familiar. I stood up and crossed to the bed, and pulled open the box. My heart sank into my toes. The red dress I had bought in London lay carefully folded inside, black beads glinting seductively. The matching shoes were there too, nestled in amongst the tissue paper. Suddenly I had a lump in my throat. The dress brought back only too vividly how my life had been before Kurtis had forced his way back into it.

"No," I said.

"No?" Kurtis replied, confused.

"I won't wear this."

"Why not? You bought it. At least you know it fits."

I glared at him. "I bought this dress for a date with my boyfriend. The boyfriend your colleagues beat up and have hostage in my cellar, in case you're confused. The boyfriend I may never see again because of you. There's no way I'm going to wear this dress." I threw the lid of the box back down onto the bed.

"Oh yes, Daniel. What a guy." He sat down on the edge of the bed. "You know, by doing this, you're helping him as well as us."

I grimaced at the way he was twisting the situation. "Don't try to be smart, Kurtis. It doesn't suit you." I walked back to the dressing table, but instead of sitting down I stood looking out at the sea.

"So, are you in love?"

"Fuck you," I shot back over my shoulder.

"Hey, that's a little harsh. I was only asking a question."

"Well don't bother."

He wandered over and stood beside me, arms folded, staring out over the ocean. I refused to look at him. After a moment he spoke.

"I don't get it, Lara. Settling down in your big old house, nice boyfriend, charity balls, shopping for accessories in London. It just doesn't seem like you."

"You're talking as though you know the first thing about me. You don't."

"Yes I do," he replied. In the corner of my eye I saw him turn to face me. "I know how fast you can run. I know what a good shot you are with a pistol. I know how hard you can kick," he continued, amusement in his voice at this last remark. "I know the look in your eyes when you're on the trail of something really special, when you're about to solve some ancient mystery. And I know how much you hate it when a piece of that puzzle gets taken from you."

An image flashed into my mind: a darkened room in the Louvre, lined with glass cases. A gun pressed against my neck, and a warm, strong hand making its way down my arm, relieving me of my weapons. Spinning round to face the man who had stolen my Obscura painting, only to be met by the most striking, hypnotic eyes I had ever seen...

I shook the image from my thoughts. "I'm not interested in that life any more," I said, but my voice lacked conviction.

"Of course you are," he replied. "It's in your blood."

I turned to him now. "Maybe it relieves your conscience a little to imagine that I'm secretly enjoying being a part of this grimy little operation. Actually – forget I said that. You don't have a conscience." His expression didn't even flicker at this comment, although that didn't surprise me. "But the truth is that there's a lot more to my life than tombs and dungeons. I've risked my life once too often."

Kurtis stepped closer to me, and without speaking reached up and brushed a stray lock of hair away from my face, tucking it gently behind my ear. The gesture was so casual and unexpected that it caught me completely off guard. He was standing close enough for me to have delivered a really good punch, knock him out even. But I felt suddenly powerless, too bewildered to even bother moving, and I just stood there as he looked me over. I stared at him, the dark blue eyes that assessed everything but never seemed to show concern; the dark shadow of stubble on his cheek and chin; the muscles in his neck and throat as he tilted his head to look at me. Despite my hatred I wished I knew what he was thinking, or whether he was thinking anything at all. It had been easy and convenient to dismiss him as a greedy, heartless gun-for-hire, but in truth he confounded my understanding, a puzzle I had no idea how to solve.

Thankfully, the moment was disturbed by another knock on the door. Kurtis turned away from me and went to let in Paul, who was carrying a tray laden with what looked like quite an impressive feast. My stomach growled impatiently, but I waited for both men to leave before I started eating. Following Paul out of the room, Kurtis stopped in the doorway and turned to face me again.

"Be ready for eight o'clock," he said simply, and shut the door behind him.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The next chapter will take me a while because it's likely to be quite long. I'll try my best to get it up next week though