The thirteen-hour trip from Mytilene to Athens was excruciating, not the least bit because Lara was well aware of the danger posed to Dr. Conroy. She didn't know who these men in her visions were, but she had an intense feeling in the pit of her stomach. The kind of feeling that she associated with impending doom. It was the kind of feeling that had served her well over the years. Her instincts were usually correct, and she was loathe to depart from them so suddenly. The only good news, was that Percy had been in contact with the good doctor, and she appeared to be in good health, even in spite of Percy's warning of potential danger. She could only hope that the woman remained that way long enough for them to get there.
She wrapped her blanket a little more securely around her shoulders. She'd given up sleep as a bad job some hours ago, and had sojourned up to the viewing deck of the ferry to watch the sun rise above the horizon. The bright orange glow was just peeking up over the horizon, casting a brilliant, multi-colored hue across the water.
"Couldn't sleep either?" Percy's soft voice cut across the silence like a shout as he took a seat beside her.
"Not particularly," she admitted, "You?"
Percy snorted in reply, taking a hearty swig of his coffee.
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. In retrospect, it had been something of a silly question. She didn't think the man had slept properly since the train to Greece. The deep circles under his eyes were now purpled, as if he'd been in a particularly nasty fight. Which, she supposed, he had been.
"How are your injuries?" She asked calmly, wishing silently that she had thought to stop by the galley and procured a cup of tea. Percy absently reached down to the deck, before passing her a to-go cup of steaming liquid. She hummed in thanks, not even surprised anymore by the thoughtful gesture.
"They're fine," he said nonchalantly, "I've always healed up quick."
"Lucky you," she groused bitterly, her hand unconsciously rubbing over the old scar around her thigh. "You speak to the Doctor again?"
Percy nodded, "I got in touch with her last night. Let her know that something was coming and not to let anyone in the house. You really think she's in trouble?"
"Positive,"
Percy grunted, taking another sip of coffee. "Any leads on figuring out who these guys your friend told you about are?"
Lara nodded, and pulled her phone out before handing it over to Percy. She had spent her time that she'd been unable to sleep looking into the men in her dreams. It had taken some time, but she had managed to find some information. The smaller Englishman had been easy enough to find. She had simply begun looking into English elite with the capital necessary for this kind of expedition.
"Tory Grant," she said, "Relatively new money. Made his fortune in pharmaceuticals. There isn't much on him, he keeps to himself."
"But he's got the funds to look into this like we are," mused Percy, a frown on his face. "No idea on why he wants the pages? Or why your friend thinks he's willing to resort to violence to get the pages?"
"Less him, and more the man he's working with," she reached out and swiped over on her notes page. "Alexi McAvoy. Former Serbian national, his father was a British ex-pat and was involved in the Yugoslav Wars in the nineties, though much of his involvement isn't public record. In the last couple of decades, he's made a name for himself in the defense contractor world. He's bounced around a fair bit in the last couple of years, but is most well-known for his work on the African continent running weapons for the Somalians."
"Ugly son of a gun, isn't he?" Percy said, flipping back to a picture of McAvoy. He sighed, passing the phone back to Lara. "And your friend is certain that they're gunning for Dr. Conroy?"
"Positive," said Lara,
"You been around Grant then?" Asked Percy, it wasn't accusatory, but Lara still felt herself get a little defensive at the unspoken accusation.
"Just because my father was an aristocrat doesn't mean I associate myself with war mongers," she said hotly.
"Woah!" Said Percy, raising his hands in the air in surrender. "It wasn't an accusation. Just figured that if he had money, that you guys might have run into each other once or twice. I have no idea how this shit works." He lowered his hands, "sorry if I offended you."
Lara sighed and began to idly play with her hair.
"No," she said softly, "I apologize for snapping at you, that was unnecessary. Just…feeling a little frazzled is all." That was an understatement. This entire ordeal was turning into so much more than she had bargained for, and what had happened in the cave was still lingering on her mind heavily.
"To answer your question properly, no, I have not spent much time around the man. Don't think we've ever actually formally met before. But, I've been around these types before. I know them well. Trust me when I say that they are the type to do anything and everything to get what they want."
Percy grunted in response, staring out into the horizon, and Lara followed his gaze. She was certain that they were sharing the same thoughts. They were still at least four hours away from the mainland, and time was most certainly not on their side. With each passing minute, Grant and McAvoy grew closer and closer to Dr. Conroy. Percy abruptly stood up, and Lara glanced up at him.
"Going somewhere?"
Percy nodded, "to have a chat with the Captain. Need to see about moving us a little bit faster." Lara nodded, and made to stand as well, but Percy shook his head. "It's fine, no need to bother yourself."
"If you're going to try and bribe him, I feel like I should be there," said Lara, brows arched. Percy grinned down at her,
"Who said anything about bribing the man?" Then, without another word, he spun on his heel and disappeared aft of the ship before Lara could think to stop him. She considered briefly going after him. The last thing they needed was for Percy to do something stupid and get himself arrested. But she needed to trust him. Percy had proven himself capable and resourceful, and whatever it was he had in mind, he was clearly confident enough in his plan that he wasn't concerned. As far as Lara was concerned, that was good enough for her.
Her faith was proven true, as within five minutes, Lara felt the boat shift. The wind's ferocity increased, and Lara's hair snapped and whipped. The boat shot forward. She was certain that they were now moving at least forty if not fifty knots. She got up, the increase in velocity was making it uncomfortable on the deck, so she retreated back to her quarters. She had half expected to see Percy in their shared bunk, but he wasn't there. Guessing he was likely still on the bridge with the Captain and crew, she crawled into her bunk. At their current pace, they would likely get to the mainland in only a few hours now, so she opted to try and get an hour or so of sleep.
She awoke an hour later to the voice of the Captain. His voice was oddly shaky as he announced that they had arrived at their destination well ahead of schedule. Lara chuckled to herself; Percy must have rattled the poor man. She began collecting her baggage, and was just finishing putting her things away when Percy came striding into the room. He looked, oddly, out of breath. His face flushed, and his arms swollen like he had just worked out.
"You run all the way here?" She teased, locking up her suitcase and falling onto her bunk as Percy began his own process of packing.
"Uh, no," he said, distractedly. He coughed, not looking at her and fidgeted slightly, "I, uh, I worked out. Needed to clear my head, ya know? Distract myself a little."
"That was smart," said Lara. "I'll have to join you next time, better than sitting here failing to nap at any rate."
"Yeah, sure, sounds good." Percy slammed the lid of his suitcase shut and hauled it off the top bunk. "Ready?"
Lara eyed him warily, but nodded.
While it wasn't exactly a long distance from the docks to Athens, they had arrived at near peak rush hour. The gridlock was immense; the cars sitting bumper to bumper with one another as the din of agitated and harried drivers sounded their frustrations through blasts of their horns. Percy's foot tapped an agitated rhythm against the floor of the large black car. Lara had rented them a driver which had picked them up from the docks.
"I don't love this slowdown," he muttered, his gaze flickering out to the crowded streets.
"Percy," said Lara warningly. She knew precisely what he was thinking, and she looked up from the backpack in her lap. "You're going to be doing her no favors by running in half-cocked. We don't even know if they're there yet, and if they are, we don't know what they're doing yet." She reached across the bench and squeezed his wrist.
"I know you're worried about Dr. Conroy, but we need to be smart about this, or we'll be risking putting her in more danger than she's already in."
Percy exhaled shakily, but nodded. Lara, satisfied that he wasn't about to sprint out of the car, squeezed his wrist one last time before she turned her attention back out the window. She sincerely hoped that her words were true, that they were, in fact, not too late to help out Dr. Conroy. But the silence in the car was not doing Lara any favors. Her mind began to wander back to the cave. Back to what she had witnessed and experienced. She had been possessed; of that she was certain. And that thought was immensely distressing. Was it purely happenstance? That she had invoked some kind of ancient spell that had overwhelmed her, or was she now the puppet of a being beyond her comprehension?
She didn't know which was more frightening.
Had this been what her father had experienced? Had he been subjected to this hellish nightmare and it had inadvertently caused his downfall? Was it all coming full-circle, and was she going to lose her mind like her father had?
She was snapped from her thoughts as it was Percy's turn to grab her around the wrist. She shuddered, and he rubbed a soft, soothing circle along the back of her hand with his thumb. She felt her shoulders relax somewhat as the intrusive thoughts began to wane.
"You okay?"
She glanced up at him, half-tempted to tell him what was going on, but thought better of it. It was neither the time, nor the place. So, instead, she smiled, or at least tried to, and gently pulled her wrist free.
"Fine," she said, but even she could hear the lie on her voice. Thankfully, Percy seemed to recognize that she wasn't willing to expound on her discomfort, and allowed the matter to drop. After another forty-five minutes of heavy traffic, the flow began to relax and they were able to make some progress but it still took another hour and a half to traverse the six miles between where they were, and the northernmost neighborhoods.
Their chauffeur dropped them off at a quiet street corner, before taking off in the direction of their hotel. Lara had paid the man handsomely to take their luggage and drop it off for them, all save for the small carry-on backpack that Lara had strapped to her back. When the car had disappeared around the next corner, she swung the pack off her shoulders. She knelt to the ground and proceeded to poke around the inside of the bag for a moment.
After a second's digging, she found what she was looking for. Pulling the nine-millimeter handgun from the bag, she tucked it away in the waistband of her jeans, before pulling a second one free and offering it to Percy. He hesitated for a moment, eyeing the weapon warily.
"Oh come off it," Lara rolled her eyes, "Are you American or not?"
"Just because we have a right to carry doesn't mean all of us do" snapped Percy, "I'm good with going without, thanks."
"No, you're not." Lara rolled her eyes and pressed the weapon into his palm. "We don't know what we're walking into here, Percy. But we know for a fact that the guys after Dr. Conroy are armed and dangerous. You're not walking into that situation unarmed, so take the fucking gun."
Percy glowered, and looked like he was more than willing to fight her on the subject, but he must have recognized a losing battle because he ultimately sighed. With the look of a defeated man, he reached out and took the proffered weapon. Then, with a practiced hand, he ejected the magazine and inspected the rounds. He then loaded the magazine back into the nine-millimeter and racked the slide, checking to make sure a round was chambered. Satisfied with what he saw, he put the weapon in place in the waistband of jeans.
It had been a practiced series of motions. Smooth. Something that had been learned over time.
"Just because you have the right to carry doesn't mean you do, huh?" She parroted the words back to him as she slung the backpack over her shoulder.
"Shut up," he glowered, brushing past her and leading the way up the sloping street. "Why the hell do you even have those? Better question, how the hell do you even have those?"
"Cash is king, Percy. You'd do well to remember that."
Percy snorted, but didn't retort. Lara followed him in silence, her eyes scanning the perimeter tightly. She didn't know exactly where they were headed, but knew they were close to the small townhouse if nothing else. The streets of Athens were old. Even as far out as they were, the ancient cobbled streets dated back to nearly the founding of the city.
If they were to get into a fight here, it would get ugly. The road Percy had turned up was far too narrow for a vehicle to fit through, let alone wide enough for modern traffic, hence why their driver had dropped them off several blocks away from their destination. The buildings loomed overhead, so tightly packed against one another and so tall that the entire road was cast in thick shadow.
A firefight here would almost certainly lead to civilian casualties. Something that Lara was desperate to avoid at all costs. Not to mention what would happen with the Greek government and law enforcement if things should turn ugly in a hurry. The last thing she needed was to become a wanted fugitive.
They walked for another fifteen minutes before Percy finally stopped. They were in front of a large, unassuming looking building of white stonework. The faded brown door at the entrance was peeling, and appeared to Lara as though it were mere moments from falling apart at the seams.
"This the place?" She asked softly, and Percy nodded. His eyes were scanning the nearby rooftops, his jaw clenched tightly. In the light of the evening sun, they almost appeared to be glowing. Lara followed his gaze, and began to track the nearby rooftops and street corners. It was just entering the early hours of the afternoon, and most of the citizenry had vacated for work for the day, leaving the quiet street empty and deserted. Percy's eyes were locked on a portion of the second floor of the building. His brow furrowed, and his shoulders tense.
"Son of a bitch!"
That was all the warning she got before Percy burst into motion. Before she could even think to stop him, Percy was charging forward. By the time that Lara was even aware of what was happening, Percy had already broken through the front door and had disappeared into the staircase.
"Fuck! Percy! Get back here!" Drawing her pistol, she raced after him up the staircase. Climbing up the staircase, she came up into a wide, well-furnished living room.
Or what had once been.
They were too late to the townhome. The living room had been flipped. The couch along the corner was flipped over on its side. A small bookcase in the corner had been thrown to the ground, and a smattering of books and magazines were strewn haphazardly across the floorboards. The cushions of a plush leather arm chair in the corner had been ripped free and thrown across the room. Lara's stomach fell out of her shoes as she walked calmly through the room. The door at the other side of the living room was open. On the floor, collecting in a small pool, was blood. Her gun fell softly to her side, as she walked forward. The door led into a comfortable bedroom. Percy stood at the foot of a large, queen-sized bed in the center of the room. On the bed was an older woman, maybe in her late sixties. Her long, fading black hair was knotted and clumped, sticking up at odd angles. She was still dressed in her nightgown. Her arms and legs were bound to the corners of the bed with tight knots of thickly corded rope. Blood still trickled freely from a small hole in the middle of her forehead where she had been shot at close range.
In the silence of the room, Percy's voice was deafening.
"I'll kill them. I'll kill every last one of them."