27- Darkness

Hidden in the shadows of the dark night, away from the others and all the commotion, she enjoyed these few moments of silence and tranquillity. She breathed in the vending fresh air, heavy clouds were making their way in the pitch black sky. She heard thunder echo in the distance. Several feet away, many trucks were parked loosely in front of the old stone building. Henchmen were busy carrying the equipment and other documents they had saved from the previous base inside, forming a regular human chain. They had to act quickly, before they were all spotted. In a village like this one, the slightest unusual movement was bound to attract attention.

Miranda had stayed in her new office to prepare and set up everything. The place was perfect, safe from prying eyes and suspicion. There had been a lot of cleaning up to do, but to everyone's surprise, the facilities had remained in very good condition. So it was only a matter of a few hours before everything was finally in place.

She perceived a movement, and she heard footsteps coming closer. Javier's face suddenly appeared in the night. But even before he spoke, she knew what he was going to say.

"They're here."

Without another word, the henchman turned away and disappeared. The young assistant followed him without delay, before disappearing into the darkness too.

—

The blindfold prevented him from seeing what was going on around him, but he could clearly feel the commotion among the men. He could feel the vibrations of the vehicle and the shaking of the dirt roads they were travelling on. There was an unpleasant damp smell in the corner of the trunk in which he was sitting. He could hear muffled noises, voices, metallic noises, the sound of weapons threatening him. The handcuffs around his wrists were cutting into his skin severely. He tried several times to free himself, to resist, but each time he was hit, each time a little harder.

He leaned his head back against the metal wall. The journey was dragging on, they had been driving for hours without stopping. He groaned as he tried to sit up and find a more comfortable position. He could only feel the burn of his shoulder wound, and the soreness where his body had been hit. His shirt was soaked with wet blood, which stuck to his skin unpleasantly. To his astonishment, some of the men sitting with him to watch him had taken care to clean his wound, and stop the bleeding. None of them had spoken a word since they had left, and there was a stunned silence in the vehicle. No matter how hard he tried to concentrate, he could not pick up any information about where they were taking him. And anyway, he was too exhausted to struggle and concentrate further.

Everything was confused in his head. He didn't know if what was happening was real or not. There was this incessant buzzing, this nausea. Every time he tried to close his eyes for a moment, the doubt and pain returned. This terrible doubt that never left him, this uncertainty, and this emptiness. Everything had happened very quickly, and he knew that everything had been perfectly calculated. They knew exactly where to strike, and when. Maybe they had even been waiting for them, lurking in the dark for hours, waiting for the Norwegian's orders to act and attack. And the more he thought about it, the more it became clear to him that Miranda Svendsen had not planned to give them any chance.

The vehicle passed several bends, then slowed down. The tyres squealed as it came to an abrupt halt. Kurtis heard another vehicle stop outside, not far from them. There were the sounds of doors slamming, hurried footsteps, a few voices raised. The men next to him began to move too, he recognised the sound of assault rifles which they grabbed before standing up. The van's back door suddenly opened wide, and he felt the cold air rush in. He felt men approaching and was forced to stand up. Two firm hands closed over his arms and pushed him forward. The air was chilly, it was still visibly dark. It was raining heavily, the soaked ground was uneven under his feet.

Cobblestones

He tried to concentrate for a few moments, tried to perceive the slightest clue that would have helped him to know where he was, but everything went very quickly. He felt the men close around him and point their weapons at him. They flanked him tightly, and with the pressure of a rifle barrel on his back, they signalled for him to move. They entered a building with an equally uneven floor, and walked for a while. Their footsteps and the noises echoed strangely around them.

It doesn't sound like an industrial building, and it doesn't sound very big either

Then they all stopped. There was a metallic noise, something heavy being moved.

A gate

The soldiers resumed their walk and helped him down several dozen steps. The light around them grew dimmer, and the cold and dampness intensified. After a few moments, they finally reached a flat, strangely soft ground.

Sand, or maybe dirt

The soldiers pushed him forward again, and he felt the pain in his shoulder flare up, and winced. Soon he heard other voices further ahead, and felt oppressive shapes around him. There was stone, pack been columns or galleries, but there was something else too: he had a dry taste in his mouth, that of the musty, of the stone mixed with the earth that never saw the light of day. No matter how hard he tried to combine all the elements together in his head, everything seemed familiar, he knew he had been in places like this before, but he was unable to visualise anything specific.

After several feet, he felt the space expand around him, the soldiers dispersed. There were metallic noises, clattering sounds, rubbing noises, papers being rummaged through. There were people around him, and movement. One of the guards stopped him and made him sit down on a chair. They took care to bind him securely to the back of it, and his legs to the legs of the chair. He grunted as they tightened the rope around his waist, he could feel the blood pulsing violently in the wound in his shoulder. He heard footsteps coming towards him. Shoes with heels.

Then suddenly his hair was grabbed and the blindfold was removed. His eyes remained closed for a long moment, too dazzled by the ambient light to open them immediately. He shook his head and blinked several times to get used to it. When his eyelids finally lifted, it took several seconds before he could clearly see the place he was in. He noticed a large stone vault, large chandeliers with dusty candles, carved stone arches, a floor covered with an elegant mosaic, but what really caught his eye was the countless number of human skulls and skeletons that covered the walls, part of the floor and the ceiling. He realised that he was in a sort of ossuary, in a large underground room built entirely of human remains. A little further on, men in camouflage clothes seemed to be organising work spaces and desks with the latest computers, but there were also remains of papers and old books that were falling to dust, littering the shelves of huge wooden furniture, furniture that was obviously centuries old.

In the middle of this large room, pieces of skulls and bones of all kinds seemed to spring up from the floor, and stood in a sort of huge table, which made him think strongly of an altar of some sort.

The clicking of heels came closer, they moved towards him at a measured pace, followed closely by the resonant sound of a wooden cane striking the cobbles at regular intervals. A form emerged from the shadows and stood before him.

"Won't tell you it's good to see you," Kurtis murmured in a hoarse voice.

He heard Miranda Svendsen let out a wry chuckle, before moving closer. Her slim figure and emaciated face, her dark, powerful gaze, came into focus in the chandeliers' light.

"I might as well tell you that I'm not really happy to find myself facing the man who took my husband's life and almost buried me alive under tons of ice," she replied in a wheezy voice.

"Too bad, that was the idea indeed."

The footsteps quickened and the businesswoman stopped right in front of him. She leaned forward and grabbed his face, digging her nails into the flesh of his cheeks. She forced him to look up at her with her still misty eyes.

"Too bad for you that you missed."

"I can arrange that," Kurtis hissed, holding her gaze.

An evil smile slowly appeared on the Norwegian's face.

"If it had been just me, you would have been executed a long time ago and your body would have been disposed of like we did to your dear friend. So you can definitely consider this a favour from me."

"Fuck you."

One of the soldiers stepped forward and came closer quickly, ready to hit him with his assault rifle to shut him up. Kurtis then recognised one of the henchmen he had met in the Antarctic base, the one with the piercing green and unhealthy look, the Argentine. Against all odds, the Norwegian woman held him back with her hand and laughed, watching the mercenary with even more contempt. Behind her, another form emerged from the shadows and stepped into the light. Dressed in a dark camouflage jumpsuit, her hair pulled back in a high ponytail, her face marked by various scars, Saija stared at him with her large dark blue eyes, unable to hold back the smile that had frozen on her lips. She beckoned to one of the men standing back, who brought her a small leather case.

She walked around her boss and Javier to join the mercenary. With a mischievous smile, she knelt down next to him and placed the first aid kit on the ground. She undid the leather straps that closed it, and unrolled it on the floor. She took some cotton wool and soaked it in disinfectant before leaning towards the American.

"I admire your loyalty, Mr. Trent, I really do," Miranda told him. "I know you'll probably be useful to us in some way. All your knowledge is bound to come in handy at some point."

Kurtis felt the young assistant's hands slide down his arm in an exaggerated manner and tear the top of his shirt. He winced and grunted, clenched his fists again, but he didn't know if it was from the cotton that had just come into contact with the wound or from the disgust that Saija's touch on him was causing.

A henchman approached the Norwegian and spoke a few words in her ear. The half-breed nodded briefly.

"I'll come back to you later, we're not done with you yet," she said to the demon hunter before turning away.

She then disappeared, followed closely by several men. Beside him, Kurtis felt the young Saija leaning over him a little more. She left the cotton aside, and took a thin pair of pliers this time, which she took care to disinfect. She put a hand on his arm.

"Those jerks didn't even get the bullet out of you. But luckily, I'm here to take care of you."

He swung his shoulder to get rid of her hand and her grip, the young woman looked at him with a surprised look and recoiled. With a firm gesture, she placed her hand flat on the young man's skin and blocked him, and plunged the pliers into the bloody hole the bullet had made. The mercenary felt a sharp, penetrating pain shoot through his entire arm. He tried to resist, but the pain was unbearable.

"I don't blame you for trying to kill me, you know. You and I didn't get off to the right start, I think," whispered the young assistant, who was leaning over him again and concentrating on the bullet.

She dug a little deeper into his flesh, plunged the pliers a little further, Kurtis fell back against the chair. His vision blurred and his head spun dangerously, he thought he would faint. Then the tool finally closed on the stuck bullet, and Saija removed it from his shoulder in one precise motion. The mercenary let out a sigh of relief, even though he was still grunting loudly. Sweat beaded on his forehead, he swallowed with difficulty.

Saija dropped the ball to the ground, before putting the pliers back down. She then leaned over him again, this time pressing her body against the American's arm. One of her hands rested on his thigh, while she brushed his hair and cheek with the other.

"You're feeling better already, I guess," she murmured.

Kurtis felt another pang of nausea settle in the pit of his stomach as he felt her hot breath not far from his face. Although weakened, he gave another shoulder to push her away and turned his head away. The young woman let go and tilted back slightly. Disconcerted, and above all angry at having been rejected in this way, she straightened up and leaned towards the mercenary again. She grabbed his face with a surprisingly strong hand and forced him to look at her. This time her gaze was hard and full of anger.

"Don't worry, everything's going to be fine, cowboy. I'm right here."

Then, suddenly, the assistant drew him closer and placed her lips on his. Taken by surprise, the American struggled and protested, shaking his head forcefully before finally managing to get out of her grip. Miranda's men approached as a precaution.

"You're fucking crazy!", he shouted, still shocked by what had just happened.

The young woman sat up, visibly satisfied. Kurtis looked at her with frightened eyes, completely lost and not understanding her attitude.

"Fucking crazy about you, yes."

The men behind her laughed, and turned away from them to get back to work. Kurtis looked at them in turn, disillusioned, at the ceiling and the skulls around him. Then suddenly everything around him seemed to go dark. What little light he still had inside him began to fade, slowly. He had to find a way out, but he could see none, wherever he looked. He thought for a moment about what had happened at Croft Manor, and the last few moments...

He closed his eyes and pushed the images away as hard as he could. He was at their mercy, but perhaps the worst thing was not knowing if Lara...

He suddenly opened his eyes again and met Saija's, which weighed on him. She gave him a sly smile, but what he read in her eyes at that moment sent a chill down his spine.

"This will be one last problem to deal with, indeed," she said seriously this time. "But we'll see about that later."

With these words, she turned her back on him.

—

While he had dozed off for a few moments, he was awakened with a start by two men who rushed at him. They untied him quickly, and each grabbed him by one arm to lift him from the chair. They dragged him a few feet before pushing him against the long bone altar in the centre of the room. Kurtis grunted as he hit the cold stone and his breath caught. He tried to stand up, but already Miranda's henchmen were grabbing him again and tipping him onto the long table. Other soldiers came to help hold the mercenary down. They blocked his arms and legs and tied him down tightly with heavy leather and metal straps.

He tried to resist, even managed to kick one of them, but the response was as sudden as it was violent. He was punched, before one of the men put his arm around his throat to block him. Realising that the man would show no mercy in strangling him if he continued to resist, the mercenary stopped moving, and reluctantly gave in.

The steady tapping of the wooden cane against the floor heralded the arrival of Miranda Svendsen, who hobbled up to him. She had put on a white coat, like the one she wore in Antarctica. Her expression remained neutral as her men finished tying up the mercenary.

"Come on, don't tell me you're going to use me as a guinea pig again?"

The Norwegian seemed to ignore him, and started walking slowly again, she went around the table. A little further away in the shadows, Saija's silhouette and her large, clear eyes appeared in the half-light, observing the scene.

"You didn't know about this place, did you?", Miranda asked.

Kurtis frowned.

"Why should I?", he asked back, suddenly suspicious.

The business woman continued to pace around the altar with her wobbly gait.

"No wonder. Truth be told, few people knew there was a laboratory here, not even your own father, obviously."

The young man glanced around.

"What are you talking about?", the mercenary suddenly snarled.

"Everything has to start somewhere," she replied in a mysterious voice.

Kurtis tried to refocus and concentrate for a moment. A place like this didn't ring a bell, he didn't remember his father or any other member of the order ever mentioning such a place. He looked again at the large bookcases a little further on in the room, and at its peculiar structure. Everything did indeed look strangely familiar, but again he could not make the connection with his possible memories.

"The Lux Veritatis built the most powerful prison for him in Germany, hid his own knowledge in the most remote fortresses, but was never able to find this place, while it only took us a few notes to trace and locate his first laboratory? It's quite ironic when you think about it, isn't it?"

It took a few seconds for his brain to integrate the information. Then suddenly everything clicked in his head.

"Eckhardt...", he muttered suddenly.

He saw a cynical smile forming on the Norwegian's lips.

"We needed a place to hide, and this one was rather appropriate for the situation, don't you think?"

He was thus right when he had told Lara the Norwegian had no doubt the idea of resuming her projects elsewhere. It would have been astonishing if she had just left it at that and simply given up. And she couldn't think of a better place to settle than the alchemist's very first laboratory, which, supposedly, was located somewhere in the Czech Republic, but which no member of the Lux Veritatis had ever managed to locate precisely, and which had therefore remained untraceable for all these centuries. That, even for him, was quite an irony indeed.

"A new base to continue your experiments in peace," the mercenary finally replied in a bitter voice.

Miranda took a few more steps and stopped beside him, both hands flat on the altar.

"Did you really think you could stop me that easily?"

Saija, who hadn't moved until now, finally walked over to them, holding what looked like a large syringe. Kurtis rolled his eyes, unable to hold back. The half-breed motioned for him to wait.

"I figured a couple less of morons on this planet would be a nice touch."

"You think you're funny?", Miranda replied in a wheezy voice.

"I'm just waiting to find out what I'm doing here. You're obviously planning to pick up your projects where you left off, and last time I checked, you're the expert on genetic modification here... Torturing me won't help, I have nothing to teach you. I have no information to give you, since you obviously already know everything."

"I don't want information, Trent. I just want you to be more accommodating."

"And again, did you think I'd be the nice dog who'd obey nicely? I don't give a fucking damn about your biology and genetic engineering..."

"You still don't understand that you're central point to all this, Kurtis. I need you either way. And anyway, you don't really have a choice."

"Spare me your fucking speech."

"Believe me, I won't make the same mistake this time. I can learn from my mistakes. People like me, and again, like you, know how to survive, don't they? They rise up, and surpass all others. And then, now that we've got the glove back..."

She straightened up, her chin raised in dominance, before giving him another triumphant smile.

"And without your trinket-hunting bimbo to help you, I'm waiting to see what you can do against me now."

She stared defiantly into his eyes, and a flash of anger suddenly flashed through his clear gaze. His breathing quickened, he could not feel the blood in his hands or fingers, but he felt his fists clench harder and harder as the anger grew inside him. He felt every muscle in his face tighten, he was about to explode with rage.

Miranda snapped her finger, Saija stepped forward and handed her the syringe. The businesswoman took it and stuck it in the mercenary's arm without even bothering to look at where she had put it. The product seeped into his veins like a poison that burned him from the inside. The American's face twisted into a grimace of pain and anger.

"We'll start by calming you down a bit. You seem upset, Mr. Trent."

Before he could say anything, he sank into the darkness.

—

He slowly awoke from the sleep into which he had been plunged, but his mind still seemed far away. His eyelids felt incredibly heavy as he tried to open them. His head hurt like hell, but soon he realised that it was his whole body that was in pain. He tried to move, but was blocked by the straps that kept him pinned to the damn table. He suddenly felt thousands of pains all over him, and realised to his horror that thousands of cables were connected to him, stuck directly into his skin. Liquids of all kinds were flowing in and out of the plastic pipes. He was freezing cold and felt his limbs tremble. He let out a deep moan and immediately someone rushed to his side. He turned his head with difficulty and fluttered his eyelids.

"La-"

His words died on his mouth at once. He came face to face with Saija, who was leaning over him.

"Nice to see you back, handsome."

"How is he?", he heard from a distance.

The assistant looked at him from every angle. He felt her hands all over his body, and he realized that his clothes were gone. He was almost naked, with only his pants to cover him. His mind wanted to revolt, but none of his limbs responded. There was no muscle in his body that would shut up. No matter how hard he tried to move, no part of his body would respond.

"He really looks stunned."

He saw her lips move, but he couldn't really hear what she was saying to her boss. He tried to take a deep breath, but again his chest hurt like hell. A tube was stuck in his mouth, he shook his head, but there was no way to get rid of it. His eyes wandered for a moment to the macabre details of the ceiling, and he realised he had no idea how long he had been lying there, in that cold, stark room, exposed to everyone's eyes like a piece of meat.

He heard the now all-too-familiar clatter of Miranda's cane as she hurriedly approached. Her face appeared above him. She scanned him in turn, checked some data, checked one of the IV bags.

"Okay. Let's move on to protocol 2," she said, turning and walking back to the table she was using as a desk.

Saija watched her walk away, but against all odds, she was suddenly filled with doubt.

"Isn't it a bit early to start the Protocol 2 dosage?"

Miranda turned abruptly towards her, hand on her hip.

"Since when are you an expert on dosing, Saija?"

"I'm certainly not, but judging by his condition, I think it's best to wait a little longer before-"

"This is not your decision."

"If we keep going on like this, we'll end up killing him," protested the young woman, suddenly in a panic.

The businesswoman returned to the assistant with a shuffling step. Her cold, hard look left no room for doubt.

"He'll survive as long as he survives, and you'd better get used to it. He's only here for one reason, certainly not to be some kind of boyfriend of yours."

"You're right. Go ahead, inject the stuff and kill him, so we have no way of using the glove or getting near it. I think that's an excellent plan, indeed."

"Who do you think you are, you little idiot?", replied the woman, pointing at her.

The young woman remained impassive in front of her, and did not let her out of her sight.

"Just take one second to think about it, Miranda. Without him, we won't be able to use the glove. If you rush things now and kill him, it will all be for nothing."

The Norwegian woman took another step forward and opened her mouth to retort, but finally changed her mind. The two women stared at each other for a moment, then the half-breed looked at the mercenary lying a little further in the room. Without a word, she abruptly turned her back and hurried back to her office. Some of the henchmen watched her pass with a questioning look, but did not risk interfering in the conversation.

The businesswoman's cane clattered on the mosaic floor, before suddenly stopping. The Norwegian remained silent for a long moment, her eyes lost in the countless papers that littered her desk.

"The problem is that if we let him take the glove, he'll kill us all," she grumbled as she tried to think.

Her lips pursed tightly until they almost disappeared. Her eyes darted from one file to another, from one document to another, to the bulky grimoire lying a little further away. She shook her head, as if it would help her sort through her thoughts. Saija was right, they were stuck. The only way they could use the glove and continue the search was to have the American wear it. But if he was too weak, there was a good chance he wouldn't survive it. If he was not, it was also more than likely that he would kill them all. Miranda winced in anger.

She suddenly felt a small object under her fingers. When she looked down, she realised that her free hand had instinctively slipped into the inside pocket of her suit jacket, and closed on the small vial she kept hidden there. Her fingers felt for the object before she reached in and pulled it out. The Norwegian contemplated the strange blue liquid that undulated inside, then suddenly straightened up, her eyes wide.

"Maybe there is a solution after all."

She looked again at the little vial and its contents. She had sworn to herself that it wouldn't come to this, or at least that she would find other alternatives.

It's the only solution I have left

"Miranda? Is everything alright?", she heard behind her back.

But she completely ignored her assistant, who had taken a few steps closer, worried that her boss was suddenly silent.

"There's only one solution," she muttered out loud.

Saija was startled when the businesswoman suddenly started moving again. She saw her go around the desk to rummage in one of her drawers. She pulled out a small round syringe, and revealed the object she had been holding tightly in her hand. The one she had saved from the base explosion in Antarctica.

"Only those who have shown the presence of DNA Nephilim in their blood can use it," she explained half-heartedly as she sat down at her desk.

She put down the small glass vial and began to prepare the equipment in front of her, taking the syringe out of its protective packaging.

"I wanted to avoid this as much as possible, as long as we could save what little sample we had left. And especially after what happened in Antarctica."

She gently picked up the vial, unscrewed it, before plunging the needle of the syringe into it to draw out the contents. The almost unreal sheen of the blue liquid reflected in her eyes for a moment as the liquid filled the syringe.

There's no such thing as zero risk, of course, but given the effects on the other guinea pigs, there's no reason why I shouldn't survive this injection. And then, it will always be possible to trace the Prima Materia code from my own blood. It will take a little longer, but at least the glove can be used. I will be able to use the glove

Miranda gripped the syringe with one hand, firmly. But just as she was about to inject herself, she heard a loud metallic click. She looked up sharply.

Sorry Miranda, but that's not exactly what I've planned

The businesswoman felt a wave of ice wash over her and take over her entire body. When she looked up, she came face to face with the gun's cylindrical barrel the young Saija was pointing at her. A strange smile had appeared on her youthful face.

Their eyes met for a few moments over the gun, and this time it was a deep feeling of anger and bitterness the half-breed felt rising inside her. A grimace distorted her face, her dark eyes held the young assistant's two pupils which shone with great determination.

"You littl-"

She didn't have time to finish her sentence.