11- Back To Square One
SOME MILES AWAY- THE SAME NIGHT
In the depths of night, she observed the lapping of the water against the rocks down below. It was dark, and the mist had been rising for a few hours now. Despite this, she could still make out the lights of the city in the distance. Although they were quite far away, she could feel the restlessness in the air, there was agitation in town tonight.
She liked this place. She appreciated the perspective of space and infinity that stretched as far as the eye could see, and the expanse of emptiness that surrounded her, as if she was the only living person left in the world. Here she could breath. It was one of the few places in the world where she found even the slightest bit of calm in these turbulent times. She couldn't stand the hypocritical and unhealthy hysteria that reigned down there.
A gust of wind blew away her short locks of hair, she couldn't hold back a shiver when the cold came through the collar of her coat. She tightened her arms a little tighter around her, as if to protect herself.
Despite the layers of clothing, she felt the hardness of her metal corset so deeply grafted to her skin scratching her arms. Once again, the metal plates around her waist made her suffer terribly. She felt the liquid that served as her blood pulsating with great blows, prisoner of this metal cage and the result of the various experiments she had been subjected to in the past.
She glanced scornfully at her battered body, which seemed to be constantly fighting against itself. This body that she hated so much, and which bore all the scars and stigmas of her chaotic life. This body that was always on the verge of tearing itself apart, which seemed to be torn on all sides at every second, which burned her permanently. Every heartbeat, every vibration, every breath of what remained of life in herself reminded her at every moment of the suffering and contempt, the anguish and disgust. And the life that had been stolen from her.
From the mental torture or from what had been done to her body, she would not have been able to say what made her suffer the most. Sometimes she just wanted to scream. Sometimes she wanted everything to stop, and make this envelope that was no longer human disappear. But the master wouldn't allow it. He needed her. She had known for a long time his contempt for her would only bring hatred, but that was what he was looking for. He had never sought to be loved by her. He had murdered her parents before her eyes, without showing the slightest sign of compassion. He was using her. He was using her flesh as a simple experiment. He was using her spirit, her past. All the people around him were just minions, and he was a monster. Because yes, that's what he was. A predator ready to exterminate an entire race to keep his own alive, ready to suck the marrow out of his enemies to achieve his ends. And she was just a puppet.
She felt someone approaching.
Out of the corner of her eye she could see the frail silhouette of the archivist standing beside her. In the dark night, he could hardly be seen in his black suit. With his hands folded behind his back, he looked into the distance, somewhere on the waters of the Neva.
"You have worked well, Morgau. The Master is very satisfied."
She escaped a small cynical laugh.
"If you say so."
A sharp pain pointed to one of her right ribs, she pinched her lips in an attempt to contain it.
"Gunderson may need your help by the way," the man continued.
This time she deigned to turn to him, intrigued.
"I thought we all had to get ready to leave for Turkey?"
The archivist shrugged slightly and remained silent. Morgau's face closed, gradually returning to her sinister thoughts. She tried to contain the anger that was slowly growing up inside her.
"There is obviously one last thing to be settled before leaving."
She just stared at him, keeping silence.
"Is there a problem?", he asked with a unpleasant voice, his most icy gaze on her.
They watched each other closely, holding each other's gaze for some long seconds. The young woman's pale eyes stared at him without sealing for a moment, as if to challenge him. She found it increasingly difficult to conceal how much she hated him, but she already knew he knew about how she felt. Truth be told, she didn't give a damn.
She sat up abruptly, and headed for the gate that would take her back into the depths of the fortress.
"I hate hot countries..."
—
ST PETERSBURG- THE DAY AFTER
"And you had talked about something discreet!"
Mikhaïl watched them in turn, both incredulous and desperate. Right in front of him were Lara and Kurtis, sitting next to each other in the small sofa, a grave expression stuck on their faces. Roman, his eyes downcast, gnawed his fingers nervously. Sasha, on the other hand, glanced distractedly outside, leaning against the window. The two adventurers had joined them late in the day, waiting for the rush of the day to sneak into the crowd and return to the flat without being spotted.
Lara didn't move. She felt like a little girl being reprimanded by her master for something she had done wrong. She looked around her, looking at the living room which had now become a kind of headquarters. In a corner, Roman had set up all his computer equipment, and she guessed, the one he had used the evening before, on an old wooden desk. The wires and cables of his computers were snaking around the room. On the living room table, various documents were scattered in a nameless jumble.
"We didn't exactly find what we wanted, but I think we can consider ourselves lucky, it could have been a lot worse," said Kurtis in a slightly ironic voice.
Mikhaïl sighed, annoyed.
"You were lucky indeed that the whole St Petersburg police force didn't show up to arrest you," he told him bitterly.
"What's done is done, we can't change it anyway," intervened Lara in a voice that was meant to be soothing.
There was silence in the room. Everyone observed each other, aware of the situation they were in.
"But you're safe and sound, that's the most important."
Lara shook her head, and so did Kurtis. The young woman felt a bit helpless, not sure about how to feel now. She couldn't help feeling that she was stuck in a dead end: time was running out and there was nothing they could do about it, aware that their opportunities to counter Karel were dwindling as the days went by. She felt more than frustrated by their failure, and she felt that Kurtis was just as frustrated as she was.
"Nothing new about the translations I guess?", Lara asked as she turned to Mikhaïl to change subject.
The Russian shook his head slowly, gradually returning to calm.
"Nothing about the possible location of the sleepers?", insisted the young woman.
He shook his head again, his lips pursed. He didn't need to say any more to make clear that he felt at a dead end too. Lara couldn't help blowing out loudly, overwhelmed by fatigue and frustration. It was as if the whole universe was standing against them.
"In short, even if we recover the sword, we will have to find the second part of the scrolls. Or at least manage to find out what they contain," the adventuress said softly.
"Unfortunately, I think that's what's coming in our ways."
Next to her, leaning against the armrest, Kurtis was rubbing his temple with his fingers, looking at Sasha at the other end of the room, then at Roman and Mikhaïl who were facing him with serious eyes.
"But if I do it intelligently, I should be able to trace Vasiley, and therefore Karel and the others..."
"Do you plan to run into them?", asked Roman, appalled.
Their blue eyes met. Sasha pulled herself away from the wall she was leaning against."
"It's madness," she told him, her eyes panicked as she totally got what he sas getting at.
"It's the only way to find the other scrolls," the mercenary replied coldly.
"What are you talking about?", Roman asked, raising his eyebrows in a sign of interrogation.
"After what happened in Montsegur and Germany, Vasiley and Gunderson are undoubtedly on the lookout," Kurtis continued. "They need the scrolls we have, and we need the ones they have, and they know it. If they don't come to us, I will come to them. Thanks to my psychic powers I will probably be able to trace them and know where they are... and therefore know where the scrolls are... if I can establish a connection with Vasiley, we might have a chance."
"Yes, perfect, so that they will spot us more easily... You're definitely right Kurtis, let's all go and get into a circle on the big Palace Square and make a huge campfire to tell them 'hey, look, we're here, you fucking bastards!'", exclaimed the young Russian woman who walked a few steps towards him. "For God's sake can you tell me what's gotten into you?"
"Do you have a better idea?", the mercenary replied between his clentched teeth.
"In any case, it couldn't be worse than last night's result," Sasha cut him off. "In my humble opinion, I don't think it's very smart to take such inconsiderate risks..."
"I think this is frankly not the time to lecture us," her brother cut her off, who got agitated in his seat.
"In any case, he will come to us sooner or later," Lara interrupted sharply.
Everyone turned around and looked at her. The tension was palpable: Mikhaïl was trapped in his silence, thinking hard. Roman had finally risen from his seat, his stressed gaze passing from Kurtis to Sasha at full speed. Everyone, of course, remembered the young woman's vision just two nights earlier. And they all feared the approaching shadow of danger above their heads.
"If he doesn't already know where we are, and what's on our minds...", she concluded, her eyes still lowered.
There was a heavy silence in the room. The adventuress walked her gaze from one corner to the other, pensive. Finally, turning her head, Lara met the determined gaze of the mercenary next to her.
"I think it's better to put ourselves together and not go in all directions," she added. "Karel will find us soon enough I think. First things first."
Kurtis shook his head lightly in a sign of acquiescence.
"So that leaves us few options," Sasha added. "As long as we don't have the sword, it will be difficult for us to keep going."
"I think the priority is indeed to get the sword," Lara confirmed. "We might as well take advantage of the fact that Karel may not be aware of its existence, it gives us a step ahead of him."
"We are a step ahead of him as long as he doesn't know where the sleepers are," Mikhaïl cut her off.
"And what if they're already on their trail?", asked Sasha. "Karel may already be at work as we speak."
"Maybe," the old Russian told them. "But we don't know anything about it at the moment, there's no point in procrastinating except to confuse us. And perhaps that is precisely what the Nephilim wants."
"In any case, it is obvious that from now on, the slightest movement on our part puts us in danger, whatever we do", concluded Kurtis.
The Russian woman watched him with her piercing, suspicious gaze. She didn't seem convinced at all, and strangely enough, Lara understood her feeling. After last night's uproar, the shadow of Karel and his henchmen had undoubtedly drawn closer to them, more threatening than ever. However, it was clear that they would remain at a dead end until they had retrieved the sword. She felt the piercing gaze of the mercenary who had got back to her.
We don't have many options left
"So what do we do? Do we go back to the Ermitage?", Sasha asked, visibly tired and annoyed.
"Exactly."
Lara's calm voice echoed through the room like the crack of a whip. They all turned their eyes to the adventuress.
"You can't be serious?", the Russian woman said.
"We have to go back, we have no choice," the adventuress repeated.
"What if it's not at the Ermitage?"
"We'll see what happens," the Englishwoman replied firmly.
The two women gauged each other with their hard, cold eyes.
"We definitely couldn't find what we wanted to find, and we couldn't go where we wanted to go," Kurtis added. "As long as we don't make sure it's not here, we can't keep going, as you said yourself, Sasha."
"The whole of St. Petersburg is going to go after you! This is madness!", the Russian woman replied angrily.
"Once again, we have no choice," Kurtis cut her off.
He rose abruptly from his seat and approached the plans spread out on the living room table. His gaze lingered for a moment on the diagrams they had already studied the day before before going to the inauguration party.
"We have checked the lower floors and the art departments, which contain nothing of interest to us... they are just unimportant collector's items."
"The refugee Royal Families mainly occupied the top floors of the palace, in the western part of the building, safe from possible outside attacks," completed Sasha, who also approached the table and the plans.
She leaned over the documents, leaning on her hands. Her fingers ran over one of the basement plans.
"This part of the museum is certainly too new, which is probably why you have not found anything."
"The palace was looted during the revolution of 1917, then entirely renovated..."
Lara had suddenly stood up, and also approached the table.
"...it is not impossible, if not more than probable, that a large number of works were moved to a safe place, including the sword. I imagine that the Lux Veritatis did not want it to fall into the wrong hands, it would have been a pity to get it lost among mere mortals, if I may say so," she concluded, her eyes crossing the American's azur gaze.
"What are you proposing?", he asked.
With a broad gesture, Lara cleared the space on the living room table. She quickly sorted through the papers that were lying around, and put the Ermitage general plans and the basement ones in front of them. Concentrated, Kurtis watched her retrace with her fingertips the steps they had taken the day before. The young woman suddenly seemed to be in a trance, mumbling incomprehensible words in a very low voice. On several occasions he saw her frowning, annoyed. Then, after a few moments, she straightened up, hands on her hips. Suddenly she turned to Roman, who was waiting patiently a little backwards.
"Tell me Roman, is there any way you could find the museum's technical plans somewhere?"
Without showing the slightest sign of hesitation, the young man stepped forward to sit behind his two gigantic computer screens. For long minutes, his fingers ran at high speed on his keyboard, his eyes glued to the screens. Then, with an almost theatrical gesture, he pressed the enter button, before turning around to face the adventuress. She observed the three shots that appeared behind him. The first seemed to show the ventilation systems, the second the electrical installations, and the third all the security systems. Instinctively, as if he had read her mind, Roman double-clicked on this one, which was displayed in large on the computers. Kurtis, beside her, frowned.
"What do you have in mind exactly?"
The young woman shook her head, concentrated.
"I'm just trying to get things clear..."
"In any case, you won't be able to enter the museum like you did yesterday, without going undercover," Sasha intervened. "And I guess they have increased the number of security agents since yesterday evening."
"Not if nothing has been stolen," Lara cut off in a confident voice.
"You have knocked out two agents who saw your faces," Sasha replied sharply.
"They only saw two foreign aristocrats who got lost in a dark corner, in a service staircase easily accessible by any guest, and what's more, by the evening's reception staff."
The two women gazed at each other.
"And I guess that given your special status and your... 'contacts', you would have already heard about a research notification."
"Indeed," the Russian woman replied, disturbed by the English woman's remark.
"We can't access the museum through the backstages either," Kurtis interrupted, "that's too many constraints... we can't pretend to be staff member, Sasha or Roman either..."
"Yes, but that was not my idea."
The adventuress suddenly turned around and went to retrieve one of the plans that laid on the table behind them.
"To tell the truth, I was thinking more of something discreet and stealthy."
She took another look at the map behind Roman.
"We no longer have an alibi, Croft, I don't see how we could show up there without arousing suspicion," Kurtis told her.
"Not if we avoid rush hours."
"There will be people in the museum at all times of the day!", intervened Sasha.
"Who said this had to be during the day?"
The mercenary stared at her without understanding.
"Do you want us to break in at night?"
Not seeming to pay attention to the American's remark, Lara turned to Roman.
"Do you think you could jam the surveillance systems like you did last night?"
The Russian ran a nervous hand through his curly hair. He pouted.
"I'm afraid that's not possible, Lara..."
She seemed disappointed by his answer.
"If I shut down the whole system for the night, this might trigger the emergency system: in such cases, a whole reinforced security system is put in place, and an armada of agents will also be deployed as reinforcements, not to mention the police...", commented the young Russian.
"...or the Federal Services," Sasha added.
The adventuress looked back at the map she was holding in her hands.
"There must be a way..."
She kept her lips pursed, in a state of reflexion. Kurtis stood up, hands on his hips. Suddenly hit by a revelation, he walked towards the Englishwoman and bent over the plan in her hands. He found himself shoulder against shoulder with the young woman without even realizing it.
"Concretely, three of the vaults remain unchecked in the basement, and the royal flats...", he observed.
He returned to the security plan displayed on the computer.
"...which are basically on top of each other, in the same alignment, according to the plans."
He pointed the area with his finger on the screen to support his reasoning. Roman suddenly shook his head.
"Unfortunately, that's not how it works... this kind of surveillance system works by floor, the best I can do is switching them off in certain places on the same floor, but I won't be able to split them up..."
All of them let out a noisy breath of frustration.
"What if you turn them off one by one?", asked Sasha. "You turn off the basements' cameras while they probe the last safes, then the ones in the flats when they are in the area."
Roman let himself go in the back of his big armchair, his hands folded behind his neck.
"I can try to do that, yes... that could be a solution."
But the Russian woman understood that her brother was not convinced any more than that. She saw him scrolling from one of his screens to the other, watching the shots he had in front of him. Then suddenly he leaned back over his keyboard again and quickly typed something on it. Everyone watched him busy on his machine, afraid to talk to him for fear of distracting him. After a few minutes of silence, he finally stopped and swivelled his chair to turn to his comrades.
"But I can also use sequential recording."
Sasha put her hand on her brother's shoulder, suddenly caught by a revelation too.
"In this case the system is only turned off for a fraction of a second, we turn the camera we need off..."
"... just long enough to replace the image the camera is filming with a sequence that has already been recorded," Roman added.
"The agents in the control room will have the impression everything's like normal on their screens...", Sasha said.
"... while they are watching the same image over and over again," his brother concluded. "Given the state of their firewall, it will be child's play."
They exchanged a knowing and triumphant look.
"No glitch risks?", asked Mikhaïl.
"Not a single one. It's an almost invisible and undetectable process, except by a computer genius."
"That's brilliant," Lara told him with a smile.
The young man sketched a satisfied, almost blushing smile back at her.
"That's one thing, but we won't have any visual of what's going on around us. It means we're going to move forward blind... Not to mention the possible agents that might come across on our way," Kurtis said, less enthusiastic.
"Not if I guide you," interrupted Roman.
"By walkie-talkie?", Lara asked.
The Russian nodded vigorously. He got up suddenly and disappeared into the corridor. He reappeared after a few moments, with tiny transparent objects in the palm of his hand, no bigger than candy candies.
"It will be much simpler with this."
The mercenary and the Englishwoman looked at the two little earpieces he presented them.
"Do you think it will be all ready for tonight?"
The young man shook his head, surprised. Then his gaze turned into something very determined and sure.
"I'll get right to it then."
Lara then turned to her companion, who stared at her intensely.
"Do you feel like going for a ride tonight?"
"I guess so," he answered with a smile.
