29- Back To Reality
Darkness, and blackness. That's all she can see. She slides into this tunnel, which drawns her into the depths. There is nothing else around her. Just emptiness, and this deep and powerful infinity. She has trouble locating herself in time and space. She is not even sure she is conscious. She feels her blood pulsing in every inch of her skin and body, like a hope of life in the middle of nothingness. But she doesn't even know if she's really breathing.
Her body contracts, she suddenly feels pain. She feels the weight of something crushing her. And then suddenly she feels herself floating. She lets herself be carried, but she doesn't really know if she is lying down or just floating. She doesn't know if she can move. She hasn't tried, but she feels that it won't help. She knows she has no control.
It feels like a dream, where everything is blurred and hazy. There is this black smoke, which gradually takes her away. She feels herself slipping, and being sucked into the abyss. She feels as if she is suffocating, as if she is trapped in the depths of the ocean, unable to reach the light of the surface.
There is the smell of damp earth and stale air. There are things around her, shapes. Or maybe it's just the smoke gently wafting. Yet something is moving around her. She perceives movements. Images flash before her eyes suddenly and violently. She hears noises without being able to discern them properly. She even thinks she hears voices, but they seem far away.
Suddenly she shivers. She feels touched, pushed, and yet she sees no one around her. She feels pain, her body screams with pain. Something burns in her shoulder and arm, it burns so much she would tear her skin off. And yet, none of her muscles respond. She realises she is unable to react, as if her mind is no longer connected to her body.
Against all odds, something suddenly takes shape in the darkness. The mist ripples again, fading slightly. She discerns shapes with strange reliefs, which appear one by one around her. Small and blurred, then more and more numerous. They look like faces that are watching her. There are eyes, hundreds of them, strange and oppressive smiles. There are more and more of them, they are getting closer. And suddenly she realises with horror that these are not just faces staring at her, but sockets empty of any human eye: they are bones. The mouths and smiles she thought she saw are toothless jaws, devoid of any human skin. There are body parts everywhere above her, shins, arms, ribs... bones, thousands of them, closing in on her like a tomb.
Another figure suddenly takes shape above her. At first she thinks it is just another bone, but soon the shape becomes clear and precise before her eyes. Someone seems to be leaning over her and watching her. She can't see the facial features precisely, but she can see the two clear pupils staring at her intensely without blinking, reminding her of a reptile ready to pounce on its prey.
The more she stares at the two phosphorescent balls, the closer they get. They are enormous, powerful. She feels sucked in without being able to resist. They will engulf her, drown her in the infinite darkness. Everything disappears, everything falls away around her. She feels this wave of icy cold imprisoning her, and yet her body seems to burn from head to toe. Her whole body suddenly starts to burn, to itch at the same time, her blood boils. One by one, she feels pains pierce every inch of her body, like thousands of sharp needles slowly sliding into her bones. She feels the coldness of the stone, perhaps the ground beneath her. Again she cannot move, but she feels that this time it is because she is prevented from doing so. Her bruised and trapped body is bound by tenacious ties. She wants to scream, to let out all the pain, but she can't. Please, let it stop.
Then suddenly everything around her fades away. The snake's vivid eyes, the bones and the ghoulish skulls slowly disappear. One by one, the mist takes them away. Something is happening. She feels another movement, but this time it is real. The fog is suddenly less thick. Her thoughts become clearer, she rises from the depths. She almost feels a dizziness lift her heart and run through her body which, however, does not fully react when she feels that she is being pushed. She resists, tries to take as much breath as possible. She feels her whole body ripple, as if she is being gently shaken. She doesn't know anymore, she doesn't know where she is, she doesn't understand what is happening.
All she feels is this intense heat that gradually returns to her limbs, and this searing pain, first in her arm, somewhere in the abdomen, then further down her leg. She feels a violent electric shock running through her from top to bottom, she cannot control herself. The darkness dissipates, the sounds become more concrete, the sensations return. And the mist disappears.
Everything around her shakes. The feeling of dizziness suddenly becomes more violent, as if she were being carried into the void in an infinite fall. She felt the burning pain grow stronger, her body jerks violently, until the light comes in and swallows her completely.
—
Her eyes snapped open, but when she tried to sit up, she was unable to do so. The first thing she felt was the pain that shot through her arm, and then, a few seconds later, the pain that vibrated excruciatingly in her lower leg. She let out a howl of pain, unable to hold back. She breathed hard and fast, unable to control herself, all the emotions mixed up in her head. She turned her gaze to all directions, her eyes wavered, searching for anything she could hold on to. The furniture. The large windows. The painted ceiling and the large chandelier. She knew this place.
She felt something scrape underneath her in a very unpleasant way. She suddenly realised she was lying on thousands of shards of glass and iron, exactly where the coffee table had stood before. She tried to move a little, but her whole body began to protest. She let out another cry of pain, and let her head fall back. She looked at the bullet-punctured sofa, the door blown to pieces a little further away, the overturned tables and furniture... There was only chaos all around her. There were debris wherever she looked, everything was destroyed. She winced a few times and tried to control her ragged breathing, torn between the flashes of unbearable pain and the images of the previous day that suddenly and violently came back to her mind. Everything was coming back to her: Miranda's speech, then the intrusion of those men into the mansion, the hand-to-hand combat...
Kurtis... the glove!
She sat up abruptly. Her heart leapt in her chest, she felt the world lurch dangerously around her. Her head was spinning dangerously, she thought she was about to faint. She was immediately overwhelmed by the pain again. She lay back down, unable to resist the burning she felt in her leg. The feeling of discomfort was unbearable.
"Winston!"
Her voice was only a whisper. No one answered, there was not a single sound in the Manor. Lara suddenly felt the panic return a little more violently and wash over her like a wave of ice.
"Winston..."
She made a huge effort to roll slightly and get on her side. The shards of glass scratched her already damaged and dirty skin a little more, but it was nothing compared to the pain that radiated from her hand to her shoulder, and the one spreading through her leg. She had lost a lot of blood. When she looked down, she discovered the huge wound on her forearm. There, the torn flesh formed a gap in the line of her usually straight arm. The hole was still bleeding a little, but it was nothing compared to her leg. She discovered two gaping holes bullets had left in her thigh covered with blood. She grunted. She ran a hand over her face, and closed her eyes for a moment to concentrate, though she was clearly unable to keep her composure.
Everything was confused in her memories. She remembered seeing Kurtis fall down the stairs, carried away by one of the soldiers, before she was herself trapped here in the living room. She had managed to fend off a few men, but she couldn't remember anything from the moment she had thrown the table at them. She had fallen backwards, she also remembered the impact against the glass table and its shattering sound when it exploded. But then, nothing, she had passed out apparently. And they must have thought she was dead, without even bothering to check.
What a bunch of idiots
"I can't believe they didn't finish me off," Lara muttered angrily.
She took another deep breathe, and took a look around her. She had to tend to her wounds, and find Winston. But she remembered that here in the living room, there was nothing at hand to treat herself. All the equipment she needed and the closest to where she was was in the bedroom, and in the armoury.
She concentrated, and leaned on her hands to turn around once more. Another jolt of electricity shot up and down her leg as the wounds on her thigh rubbed against the broken glass. The adventuress gritted her teeth, and sat up slightly. On her stomach, using her hands, elbows, and good leg, she managed to move forward just a few inches, but deep inside she was already shouting victory for being able to move. She tried again, this time with a little more strength, pushing herself forward. Her foot skidded in the debris, but she managed to move forward a little more towards the bullet-pierced sofa and chair. She grabbed the carpet, dug her nails into it, let out several desperate grunts, but managed to drag herself along the floor for several feet.
After long minutes, she finally reached the door and the corridor. There, she paused briefly to catch her breath and let the blood rush back into her skull, as she felt she was about to faint again. She leaned on the doorframe and then pulled herself up on all fours, which allowed her to move a little faster, despite the injured leg she was dragging behind her.
The adventuress progressed at a relatively steady and brisk pace. Several times, she collapsed, out of strength and breath. But she got up, and kept going, driven by pain and the instinct to survive. Her heart sinking, and her thoughts still confused, she saw the damage Miranda's men had done to her home. The whole floor was turned upside down, the walls and staircase bore the marks of bullet holes everywhere, not to mention the bodies of the henchmen lying all over the place. She dragged herself through the wooden debris and the blood of some of her enemies before finally reaching the entrance to the bedroom. The room remained in the same state in which she and Kurtis had left it the day before: there was a desolate atmosphere here. From where she stood, however, she could not see the armoury, which was hidden by the bathroom wall.
She resumed her progress, drawing on her last bit of strength to reach the back of the room. The skin on her elbows was burning from rubbing against splinters of all kinds, the wounds on her thigh had started to bleed again, but she didn't care. She had to get to the armoury at all costs. She had to find Winston...
Her heartbeat quickened abruptly when she finally made it through the bathroom, and saw the armoured door of the secret room that was left wide open. However, her heart rate dropped suddenly as she saw the large traces of blood all around the place. She tried to hurry and move faster, but her hopes were suddenly dashed when she caught sight of her butler's shoe. Lara held on to the door to straighten up. She stood there for a short moment, staring at the lifeless body of her friend lying in the corner of the room. Her blood ran cold in her veins.
"Winston!"
The adventuress threw herself forward, almost forgetting the injured leg that prevented her from walking, and which brought another cry of pain. She skidded through the blood before finally finding herself near him. He was just sitting there, his back against the wall, his arms hanging down on either side of his limp body. His head tilted forward, making it look as if he had just dozed off there. He had a nasty wound on his forehead and the side of his face, which had stained his suit with large bloodstains. His waistcoat and arms were riddled with bullets. Miranda's men had shown him no mercy.
"Winston..."
Lara was unable to hold back the tears that rolled down her cheeks. She moved closer, and put her arms around the old man in a gentle embrace. She laid her head on his shoulder and lay huddled against him for many minutes, lost in emptiness and despair.
Then, suddenly, she felt something against her cheek. She sat up abruptly and looked at the old man, her eyebrows furrowed. She wasn't quite sure, but it seemed to her that she felt a sort of very light, almost non-existent breath against her skin. A sort of very weak moan escaped from the butler's slightly open mouth. The young woman's eyes widened abruptly, and she grabbed him by both shoulders.
"Winston!"
The old man did not move, but she felt his body regain its breath and a semblance of life. She took his face in her hands, he was still alive.
"Winston, stay with me!"
She abandoned her friend for a moment and crawled further into the room. She straightened up and rummaged in one of the hiding places in the room, from which she took out a small emergency mobile phone and a large first aid kit. She tucked it under her arm and crawled back to the old man. She set the bag down beside him, and began to undo the straps of his bulletproof vest to free him. She slid the garment gently around his arms and then laid the old man on the floor, using the waistcoat as a pillow for his head. The bullet-proof waistcoat had absorbed many of the bullets Svendsen's men had fired at him, but there were still several bullet holes in his torso, in his shoulder, and also in his abdomen. He was badly hit.
Lara grabbed the mobile phone and dialled the emergency number. But before she pressed the call button, she suddenly held back. If she alerted the emergency services and if what had happened here last night was discovered, the authorities would be notified, and there was a good chance it would be reported in the media. And if the media were to talk about her, then Svendsen would somehow know she had survived.
She glanced desperately at the old man lying next to her. She knew she could not heal such large wounds by herself, without risking killing him. But she realised she couldn't risk dragging attention to her in any way either.
Everything was racing through her mind. She felt time running through her fingers with every second she spent hesitating about what to do. Svendsen was on the run now. But she knew it was stupid to think she could go looking for her and find Kurtis in this state, without even being able to stand or stay up on her feet properly. Moreover, to leave without any preparation and expose herself now would be suicide. She had risked a solo intrusion into Antarctica, but this was different. Now Miranda had taken extra precautions for sure, on every level. First she would have to come up with a plan of attack, do some research to find potential hiding places the Norwegian could have gone to. She would undoubtedly need plans, equipment, and something to deal with the squadron of enemies that would be waiting for her along the way. Not to mention the glove, which was a direct threat in itself, and which she might not be able to approach if she was alone.
The conclusion was self-evident.
She looked for something into the mobile phone, a number. She put the device to her ear. After a few seconds of waiting, someone finally picked up.
—
She hung up after a few minutes, and let her arm fall back down her body, exhausted, but relieved. After that, she set about cleaning the wound on the butler's head, and the ones on his chest, at least disinfecting them as best she could. She gently wrapped him in a survival blanket, before sitting down next to him, her back against the wall. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a slow, deep breath before glancing at the first aid kit lying nearby. She bent down to pick it up and pull it to her. She rummaged through it and pulled out a gauze pad and several cotton pads and disinfectants.
She uncorked a small bottle of disinfectant with a flick of her teeth and spilled a large amount onto large square cotton pads. She then applied it to the wound on her arm, not without holding back a cry of pain. She fell back against the wall and waited several seconds for the product to take effect, before discarding the cotton wool by throwing it away. She rummaged through the first aid kit again and this time grabbed a box of strip bandages. She tore open the package, and stuck one of the adhesive sheets between the fingers of her injured arm. With her other hand, she peeled off the strips one by one before, placing them on the open wound in a rough motion.
"There."
She then took the roll of gas and began to wrap it around her arm to make a thick bandage. When she had finished, she grabbed one side of it with one hand, and the other with her teeth. She gave a sharp tug to tighten it. She then let herself go backwards, and took a few moments to regain her composure. Then her eyes fell on the two wounds on her thigh, one of which was still bleeding profusely, spreading droplets of blood all around her.
She straightened up and, with an effort that made her grimace, lifted her thigh slightly. One of the two bullets had gone through her leg and out, but the second was probably still inside. Lara let out an exasperated grunt, and let her leg fall back to the ground. Almost reluctantly, she rummaged in the first aid kit again, this time pulling out a pair of surgical tweezers, and more cotton and gas and disinfectant.
She soaked several cotton pads with the product, and put the pliers on her thigh. She took a few more cotton pads and wiped the dirt and dried blood from the bullet holes. A strong pain, like a sharp needle, radiated up her leg and vibrated in her muscle, and she held back another cry of pain. She picked up a piece of wood from the floor and clamped it between her teeth. Then she grabbed the surgical clamp and plunged it into the hole without hesitating. The contact of the metal in her flesh was unbearable, but she was no longer thinking.
She pushed the object a little deeper to reach the stuck bullet, she felt her head spinning dangerously. She had to stop until she regained full consciousness. Her chest was heaving with the rhythm of her jerky breathing, she felt the drops of sweat beading on her forehead and temples. When she finally came back to her senses, she gripped the pliers a little tighter and pushed them in a little further. She bit down a little harder on the piece of wood. After a few endless seconds, she finally felt the object scratch the head of the ball. She wedged it between the two ends and gave it a sharp tug. The pliers came out of her flesh with the bullet. She felt a strange sensation of extreme pain, mixed with relief and release. She screamed.
She let herself fall back against the wall, and dropped the clip. The bullet ricocheted and disappeared among the other debris scattered around her. A warm, thick liquid escaped from the wound, and the adventuress grabbed some cotton wool to put on it. She stayed several long minutes compressing the wound. She then took a large gauze pad and proceeded to wrap it around her leg. She grunted once more, but she felt a little better already.
She paused for long minutes, her head resting against the cold tile wall behind her. The first rays of sunlight that seeped through the broken windows and the clear sky outside did not bring any kind of comfort to her. Her mind remained focused on what had happened the day before. Everything kept running through her mind over and over again. And the more she thought about it, the more the anger rose in her. If Svendsen thought she could attack her here, in her home, without retaliation...
"You certainly think I'm dead now, Svendsen," Lara hissed through clenched teeth as she tightened the bandage around her leg. "This is quite unexpected you left me alive, indeed. But it's quite bad news for you."
—
SOME HOURS LATER
The young man closed the stitch with real precision, before applying a thick bandage over it. He placed the scissors and pliers on the bedside table and finally sat up. He pushed back the lamp he used to light his improvised operating table and stretched for a long time, before turning to the adventuress, who had been watching him working on Winston's injuries like a real professional.
"That was close, but he should be fine. It will take him several days of rest, probably several weeks before he's back to normal, but he'll wake up. I've put him on morfine, that will help a little."
"Thank you," murmured the young woman, whose serious face finally lit up with a reassured smile.
Roman rose from his chair, and came to put an arm around Lara's waist as she tried to stand up from her own chair. He helped her walk to the door, and they left the room where they had installed Winston in silence. They entered the large office next door. The Russian helped the adventuress to settle into the large sofa that faced the desk.
"So, there are definitely some shenanigans, Nephilim and end of the World on the way," he told her ironically as he sat down not far from her.
The Englishwoman grabbed her leg to put it onto the sofa, before taking a cake that Roman had brought from the kitchen. She saw him shake his head again, still stunned by what she had just told him.
"I'm seriously thinking we have a knack of getting into trouble," she replied, trying to lighten the atmosphere.
Roman gave a faint smile, though the look on his face suggested he understood the gravity of the situation. He thought for a moment of the shock when he had entered the mansion and discovered the beautiful house completely turned upside down.
"They must have been very well prepared to take out all the security at Croft Manor," he stated.
"They had planned this. They knew there were secret rooms hidden all over the house… It must have been child's play for them to have access to the Mansion's plan. They acted precisely, quickly and efficiently. Svendsen had perfectly calculated her move."
They looked at each other for a moment. Despite his tired face, Roman hadn't change that much since the last time they had seen each other. His beautiful eyes shone from under the curly locks of hair that fell on his forehead.
"Kurtis was right, Svendsen resumed her research, we need to find where she has taken him," she told him in a low voice.
"Do you think they left him alive?"
"It's quite likely. Otherwise, I don't see why they would have taken him. They need him until they can find another way or another intermediary to use the glove."
A shadow passed over the young woman's face, and she fought the twinge of both fear and anger she suddenly felt. Her brown eyes met those of the young Russian man. She knew from the look in his eyes that he was as determined as she was, even though they had few options left.
"Okay, so let me get this straight," he said as he suddenly stood up and started pacing the room, one step at a time. "We have a missing glove and a missing Kurtis, a potential new secret base, a psychopath and her army of mercenaries who think you're dead."
The aventuress nodded slowly.
"So, do you have a plan?"
She took another bite of her toast.
"Not really," he heard her grumble. "We have to start from scratch for a change. First we need to know where to look. Svendsen could be anywhere..."
Roman suddenly stopped walking and held up a finger, as if to underline an idea that had just crossed his mind.
"We must be quick, and proceed logically," he told her.
He suddenly turned around and walked to the desk and sat down in the big chair. Lara saw him typing at full speed on his computer keyboard, his eyes focused on the screen.
"BIOTEKNIKA has two main laboratories in Norway. One in Oslo of course, on the company's premises, but relatively small compared to the one further north in the country. But these are back-up labs and storage areas only."
His eyes darted from one side of the screen to the other.
"From what I remember of the plans you asked me for, there was nothing unusual about their villa."
"No, I didn't notice anything indeed," added the Englishwoman. "I don't think they kept any equipment or had a secret laboratory set up there."
"It wouldn't be very prudent indeed, and not very logical."
Lara sat up slightly on her cushions.
"It's unlikely that they've returned to one of their former bases," she said, thinking aloud. "I destroyed the one in Argentina, and Kurtis destroyed the one in Antarctica... and even if some of them survived, I doubt the base can be used in its current state..."
"And in any case, I doubt they'd be stupid enough to go back and hide in a base that everyone knows exists now," Roman added ironically.
The aventuress nodded again.
"But that doesn't solve the problem, there are plenty of other bases or potential hiding places hidden all over the world."
Roman remained silent for a moment, his mouth pursed in concentration. He let his fingers wander over the keys of the keyboard, scrolling through the articles and photos.
"Technically speaking, you're right Lara, this world has countless galleries, bunkers, hiding places, that have not been discovered and may never be."
He met the angry and disillusioned gaze of the Englishwoman.
"But we have to think in scientific terms," he explained. "Miranda Svendsen needs specific facilities for her experiments. Advanced equipment that is difficult to transport. I imagine she is used to working with machines and equipment specific to BIOTEKNIKA's business, not to say especially made for them."
"Do you think we could trace this equipment to find out where it was transferred to?"
The young man shook his head sharply.
"That would be far too complicated, and far too time-consuming, given the time we have to react," he replied quietly. "Either the necessary equipment had already been installed on site before they fled, or they had to transport it with them."
"But such transport would not have gone unnoticed," Lara added, frowning in concentration. "Especially after Miranda got herself exposed publically. And I don't think she would take the risk of being noticed like that, especially if she is closely followed by the media and the police who are investigating her."
"That makes sense to me too. And obviously, she intended to resume the search as soon as possible..."
"... which implies that she would have found a quickly accessible and nearby hidding place," answered Lara, staring at the huge planisphere hanging on the wall behind Roman.
"... maybe a few hours away from here only."
"But they did use a base in Antarctica," Lara contradicted him, raising her eyebrows and arms slightly in the same movement.
"Yes, but it was a place that already existed," the young man corrected her.
Their eyes met for a moment, and Lara suddenly understood what he was getting at.
"It's almost impossible they could have built an emergency base in such a short time," she observed. "Given their haste, they must be using a place that already exists indeed."
"Certainly. A place ready for use, so to speak..."
Lara suddenly stood up. Slowly, she put one foot, then the other on the floor, before standing up, not without a grimace. She wobbled over to take a closer look at the paper map on the wall. Roman stood up suddenly to give her the seat, but the Englishwoman refused categorically with a wave of her hand. A little unsettled by this sudden silence, the young man straightened up and stood next to her, trying to understand what was going through her mind.
"Once again," Lara murmured, looking at the lines drawn on the old map, "Svendsen knows she is being watched. Any expatriation to a distant destination would only draw attention to her, and raise suspicion..."
"I'd bet my life she stayed in Europe," concluded the young man beside her.
They turned their heads at the same time and looked at each other in silence, their ideas flying in all directions. Then the young woman's gaze wandered, before settling again on the paper mal hanging before her. It was an old map that her own father had once used for some of his missions. Some of the corners were torn, corroded by time, but Lara had never been able to get rid of it. She liked its thick paper with slightly faded colours, and its renaissance-style patterns that formed large geometric arches...
Something suddenly flashed in her mind. The sensation was so violent that she recoiled. Her eyes focused once more on the patterns and shapes that framed the map, elegantly hand-drawn. For a moment her mind wandered back to the mist and its strange shapes, that darkness, and that oppressive feeling, as if she had been lost in a world that was both distant and unreal, but yet, seemed very real without her knowing why. All the images she had seen appear a few hours earlier when she was unconscious flashed before her eyes again.
There was something buried somewhere in her mind. Something was tugging at her memory, and it suddenly annoyed her that she didn't know what it was, or that she couldn't remember it. Yet an idea found its way into her confused mind. The Englishwoman frowned again and shook her head, frustrated at being lost in a blur like this again.
"Is everything all right?"
"What if it had nothing to do with a science base this time?", Lara replied without thinking.
"What do you mean?"
Roman looked visibly confused. Hands on his hips, he scrutinized the young woman in detail, as if he hoped to find out what was going on in her head.
"You'll think I'm crazy," she muttered.
She heard him laugh gently.
"You know, nothing surprises me anymore coming from you," he replied mockingly.
Lara smiled at him, almost embarrassed by the situation. She wasn't sure what she was getting at herself. As often lately, she simply trusted her instincts.
"You have a feeling, don't you?", the Russian encouraged her in a reassuring voice.
Lara took a deep breath, and blew out loudly, relaxing her shoulders. After asking Roman's permission with a look, she took an awkward step and sat down on the big chair just behind them. She glanced quickly at the computer screen, which was still displaying photos and excerpts from news articles featuring Miranda Svendsen.
"I think I had visions, in a way."
"Like the ones you had in Iran?"
"Not exactly..."
The young man joined her and sat down on the desk, arms folded against him.
"... those were really… real. I mean, they were memories, memories of the previous Guardians, of their past lives..."
Despite his obvious casualness, the young man's features suddenly became very serious and focused again.
"... and if you think about the nightmare I had in St. Petersburg, during which Karel had directly attacked me, no, that's not that either," she cut him off before he interrupted her.
A bitter smile, still marked by the memory of the events that had taken place at the time though, appeared on the young man's lips.
"I saw something when I was unconscious actually. There was a place."
She stopped suddenly, watching for her friend's reaction. But when she saw that he was patiently listening to her, and silently encouraging her to continue, she relaxed a little.
"There were strange shapes, everything was quite oppressive, quite dark... maybe like a basement... I felt movements around me, I'm sure there were people too..."
Lara fell silent again, concentrating on trying to remember anything. Her eyes rested for a few seconds on a photograph of the smiling Svendsen couple, which she remembered having seen before.
"It's as if...", the aventuress said, but words suddenly failed her to describe what she was feeling.
"As if it was not really coming from you?"
"Yes. I could see everything, I could feel everything, and yet it was all so blurred…. as if all these images... as if it wasn't really me who saw them, as if I had seen them through someone else's eyes."
The silence fell for a moment. Lara felt the confusion return to her mind. She didn't believe it for a second, but she couldn't fight the instinctive feeling that stirred inside her.
"So you think it might have something to do with what Kurtis sees himself, and where they might have taken him?"
The young woman lifted her head and shook it gently.
"You must think this is completely crazy..."
"Yet you and Kurtis are linked in many ways, am I right?"
The Englishwoman replied with a slight smile that betrayed her embarrassment.
"It's hard to explain, but I'm sure that's it. It can't be a coincidence."
"I know you both well enough by now to say that I'm not surprised," Roman replied, shrugging slightly. "You mentioned a place, and people around you?"
Lara tried to sit up in her chair, and winced as the wound under the bandage on her thigh protested quite strongly.
"I don't know...", she breathed between spikes of pain. "I felt like I was lying on something, and all around me, everything was quite dark, it looked like a hostile, dark place... there were big stone arches, but also bones, everywhere...", she concluded abruptly as she looked up at the Russian.
In the same movement, the young woman straightened up a little more, Roman got down from the desk, and both of them leaned forward on the computer, their hands already hanging over the keyboard. The young Russian man nodded softly, happy to see that they might have something.
"Okay. Is there anything else you've seen that might give further clues about this place?"
Lara pursed her lips slightly.
"There wasn't much else... it was just bits and pieces of images or sensations, but... from the shape of the ceiling and the arches above him, or above me... well, from the way it looked, I'd say it was some kind of sanctuary."
The young woman let the Russian take the keyboard and saw him type a few key words into the search bar.
"Okay," he replied, watching her carefully. "So, a sanctuary."
"A shrine, yes, but a shrine covered in, or built of human bones. So more like an ossuary," the young woman corrected him a little abruptly.
"Yes, but there are several kinds of ossuaries..."
Lara concentrated a little more. She could feel the blood pulsing dangerously in her skull, the pain would soon set in if she continued to dig into her memory like this.
"According to the Judeo-Christian tradition, they are rather found in churches or underground galleries, like catacombs. The stone I saw was quite dark, it could correspond," Lara explained as she took a look at her friend.
Roman tapped the keyboard again and pressed the enter key. The two young people were faced with a list of various places, all with the same few details the adventuress had just given.
"These are the ossuaries I could find in Europe," said the young man, pointing to a website he had found on the dark web.
"Well, I could have made this list myself," Lara said mockingly when she discovered the places that were crudely listed, as if they were on a tasteless blog for thrill-seeking tourists.
Roman gave her a murderous look.
"Sorry, I did it as fast as I could, as efficiently as I could, and with the means at hand," he grumbled, slightly offended.
After apologising with a look, the aventuress refocused on the list, which, to her surprise, was not as long as she had feared.
"The list is not very long, which is a good thing, isn't it?", the young man said in echo to her thoughts.
Lara nodded and scrolled through the pages listing all the bone buildings in Europe, from historical monuments to simple country churches.
"There are a lot of different ossuaries, but if we assume that Svendsen needs space to set up her lab, then yes, that already narrows the list down a bit," Lara replied. "We can already exclude all the little churches or memorials lost in the middle of nowhere."
The Russian made a manipulation, and the list suddenly became shorter, almost to the point of disappearing completely. Lara and Roman exchanged a surprised look at the few results, six to be exact, that remained.
"Okay, what do you think of these ones then?", asked the young man, pointing to the computer screen with his chin.
Lara observed one by one the photos that were displayed before their eyes. First of all, there was a very small church in the centre of an Irish village.
Saint Michan's Church
Then there was a large church with baroque towers, studded with elegant sculptures, lost in the Czech countryside.
Sedlec's Ossuary, Czech Republic
There was also another church with a surprisingly smooth, white façade, which contrasted with the beautiful blue sky in the background.
Capela Dos Ossos, Portugal
In the fourth photo, she recognised at first glance the catacombs of Paris, with their endless dark mazes full of skulls. Then there was a chapel that she also knew, which, despite the sordid decorations of shins, had bewitching warm, golden colours.
Capuchin Crypt, Roma
The last photo showed another picturesque village church, perched above the lake that bore the same name.
Hallstatt Ossuary, Austria
"This one was destroyed by fire a few years ago," said the young woman, pointing to the photo of St. Michan's Chapel.
"Did you know about this place?", Roman asked, a little surprised.
"Not me directly, but my friend, Father Dunstan, did. He told me a lot about that place, and I know that some of his friends used to officiate there."
"Good to know. That's already crossed one off the list."
Lara sank back in her chair and took a moment to think, her hands crossed over her stomach.
"And I know Roma's crypts. I went there on one of my missions a few years ago. I've been all over them, so to speak, and even if the monks weren't too happy about my visit, I know the structure and every corner of it well enough to say that there's nothing there."
Roman nodded to indicate that he was still following her reasoning, while doing another internet search. After a few seconds, a whole series of images and sites related to the village of Hallstatt appeared. He used a map to better visualise the location of the ossuary church, which was somewhere above the lake. But when he used the 3D view, they were both surprised to discover a large modern villa in place of the supposed wooden church typical of the Austrian region.
"Look, the satellite images are only a few months old," the aventuress pointed out.
"It seems that the modern world has passed through here," the Russian indeed noted. "The old building has obviously been replaced recently. Do you think that...?"
Lara looked at the images more closely. It was now a villa with a sleek design and smooth walls, clinging to the cliff overlooking Lake Hallstatt.
"… it could be the work of the Svendsens? I don't think so. And then, on closer inspection, the house is not so big. I can't imagine Svendsen and all her team all crowded with so little space. And given the terrain, it would be surprising if they could have built an underground shelter without getting flooded. Too complicated. Not to mention the location of the village itself, which is difficult to access. The coming of a Norwegian woman with all her henchmen would not have gone unnoticed."
"I quite agree," replied Roman. "And that's good, because it makes things easier for us."
They nodded together, almost remotivated by their findings.
"What do you think of the others? Do any of these places speak to you?"
Lara looked at the three remaining photos on the computer screen: a church in Portugal, one in the Czech Republic, and the catacombs of Paris. She pouted in doubt.
"I've already 'visited' the catacombs, or at least I've been lost in underground Paris... but the galleries network is so extensive there could be a multitude of perfect places large enough to house a secret laboratory..."
Next to her, Roman didn't answer immediately, obviously concentrated as well.
"It's just a guess, but I can't imagine Svendsen barging into the middle of Paris with all her team and going down into the sewers without being noticed, right?"
"There's a good chance, yes. But as I said, there are miles and miles of tunnels, and what's more, of unexplored tunnels... Regarding what I saw in my visions, it didn't look like catacomb tunnels, which are long, low-ceilinged and narrow... but who knows, what I saw was all so blurry..."
The Englishwoman sighed loudly.
"So if I understand correctly, that could be one of these two churches?", Roman asked, pointing to the white stone church first, then to the dark gothic one.
Lara rose from her seat and, with unsteady steps, spun around the room. Her leg hurt like hell, not to mention the wound on her arm which had obviously decided to wake up as well, but she figured that standing up and walking around would do her good, and somehow help her think.
Everything was racing through her mind. The answer might be there, right in front of them, she felt they were getting closer to the goal, but she also realised everything was now based on simple assumptions and deductions. Thinking about it, it was completely ridiculous. She was used to maps, clues and other hidden enigmas of all kinds, and right now she was just basing herself on simple feelings and mental images she wasn't even sure of.
She approached the large window and leaned against the sill. At her back, Roman had not moved and was waiting without a word for her decision. She opened her mouth to ask a question, but the Russian was quicker.
"Ancient galleries, but also quite large cavities have been mapped under both structures," he told her.
She did not answer. A little lower down in the garden, she noticed the tyre tracks of their enemies' vehicles, which had left large dark marks in the gravel. The large gate of the Manor was still open, having been forced open as well.
Lara turned around and leaned against the window, looking at her friend. A choice had to be made, one that would in any case have heavy consequences. And whatever it was, she was taking the risk of going the wrong way. She knew they had no right to make a mistake, and that time was running out.
"Svendsen could very well have gone into exile in Portugal,", the Englishwoman murmured. "A small country, in a lost town out of sight. But why there precisely, is there a logic to it?"
"And what about Czech Republic then?", the Russian asked.
She looked at him questioningly, her arms tightly crossed against herself.
It would be quite ironic, after all that happened there
"That would be too obvious."
"But well, that would be quite logical to me actually. Miranda studied there... she knows the history of the country, and that of alchemy and the Lux Veritatis... not to mention Eckhardt and Karel. Prague was their stronghold. That's where it all began, in a way. And I'm not talking about the Strahov..."
The aventuress lowered her gaze, thinking fast. She felt her heartbeat quicken suddenly. The adrenalin slowly returned to her.
"Well, you're mostly right. But I can't… I just can't believe Svendsen went into hiding there, in a country that is so symbolic for her. That would be too obvious."
"And why not after all? Isn't it the message Kurtis has tried to send you?"
The adventuress shook her head slowly.
"It sounds so logical that it's grotesque... that sounds almost too easy."
Her brown gaze met her friend's blue eyes again. Of course, it was all supposition. Doubt would remain until the very end, no matter what they did anyway. But it could be that, yes. And the more she looked at this strange dark church, the more she was strangely convinced of it.
"I guess this is all pretty tall to be just a mere coincidence, don't you think?"
"I want to believe that everything fits, yes," Lara replied in a low voice.
They exchanged a knowing smile.
"And I don't believe in coincidences anymore anyway," she added confidently.
The two of them remained silent for a long time, somehow soaking up all the information they had gathered so far. It was a risky bet, but they had to do something anyway.
"The next flight to Prague is tomorrow morning," the Russian said, getting up from the chair. "What do we do about Winston then?"
Lara got away from the window and hobbled towards the door.
"I'll call a friend. I know someone who can take care of him."
The young man nodded slightly.
"I'll go and get my things ready then. Maybe I'll have a shower too, if I have your permission."
"Of course."
He turned around and disappeared through the open door. Lara followed as best she could, leaning against the walls to walk, and went to her own room. She carefully avoided paying too much attention to the decor around her, which was nothing but ruins here. She took her time while she gathered a few things and filled her travel bag. She also prepared some equipment that could always help them out if needed. It was the light knocking on the bedroom door that brought her out of her thoughts. Roman was back, and walked slowly and cautiously into the room, holding something strangely familiar in his hand.
"I found this in the stairs."
He handed her Kurtis' chirugai, which had reverted to a simple metal disc, as if returned to a state of hibernation. The adventuress grabbed it gently and looked at it intently, her fingers sliding over the cold metal.
"You know I trust you. We'll follow that lead, and we'll find him."
Lara looked up and met Roman's gaze, which was also shining with that strange glint of mixed excitement, fear and confidence. If they only had one chance, they had to take it.