Chapter 10: Underground
Bouchard's hideout
Paris
17 November 2003
09:15
Kurtis Trent
Kurtis's motorcycle was parked discreetly on the outskirts of Parc de Lune Park, adjacent to the imposing St. Aicard's Church. The city streets remained eerily devoid of life, shrouded in a quiet stillness. Amidst this solitude, the lone figure of a guard stationed near the church gate cast an enigmatic presence.
The guard, who had the air of a sentinel, was absorbed in reading what appeared to be a magazine. Kurtis studied him, his gaze keen and contemplative. The enigmatic nature of a bodyguard stationed near a church stirred curiosity within him.
"Hi, I want to see Bouchard," Kurtis declared as he approached the gate, his voice carrying a hint of determination.
"No one with that name here," the guard responded, setting aside his magazine and focusing on the newcomer.
Kurtis's intuition kicked in, recognizing the opportunity to gain access through a monetary exchange.
"Name your price," Kurtis offered, his eyes steady.
The bodyguard's raised eyebrow suggested a willingness to negotiate. "Hmmm. Do you have eight hundred?"
Kurtis's affirmative response was swift. He produced a roll of money, ready to meet the guard's terms.
"Pass it through," the guard instructed, leaning closer to the gate.
However, Kurtis was cautious. He knew that trusting the transaction entirely to the guard's discretion might lead to unforeseen complications.
"You need to find the mausoleum in the churchyard; it leads down into the basements," the doorman divulged, his voice carrying a sense of confidentiality.
With the agreed-upon exchange taking place, Kurtis was granted access. He made his way to the mausoleum, its eerie aura hinting at the mysteries that lay beneath. Descending into the basement, Kurtis found himself within a dimly lit tunnel, the occasional scuttling of rats adding to the atmosphere of foreboding.
As he advanced through the tunnel's shadowy confines, Kurtis encountered an obstruction – a heap of rubble obstructed his path. Undeterred, he cast his gaze to the opposite direction, following the tunnel's winding course. When he encountered a pit, he leaped across it with ease, his exceptional abilities making light work of the obstacle.
"No wide pit will stand in my way," Kurtis mused, his determination unwavering.
Continuing his journey, Kurtis encountered another challenge – a wide pit filled with murky water, its far side similarly blocked. Pondering the incongruity of such obstacles in a supposed access route, he concluded that a hidden path must exist.
With resolute determination, Kurtis plunged into the water, diving beneath the surface. He swam through a submerged tunnel at the pit's bottom, emerging triumphantly on the other side. He scaled the wall and continued his journey through the darkened passages.
Kurtis persisted along the tunnel until he confronted another blockade – a cave-in obstructed his path. Channeling his strength, he grappled with a boulder, successfully shifting the pile of rubble. Although the passage ahead remained impassable, his efforts had cleared the way on the opposite side.
Undeterred, Kurtis adopted a low crawl, maneuvering through the narrow opening created by his actions. His determination to reach his destination unshaken, he pressed forward, poised to uncover the secrets concealed within the church's hidden depths.
Kurtis ventured deeper into the labyrinthine underbelly of the church, passing through a room illuminated by harsh fluorescent lights and adorned with an assortment of pipes. His journey continued through an opening in the wall, leading him into a storage area that harbored an unsettling assortment of features: barred cells, and a scattering of coffins that added a chilling aura to the environment.
"I hate these places," Kurtis muttered under his breath, a visceral aversion to the macabre surroundings evident in his tone.
The next room unveiled a grotesque sight that sent shivers down Kurtis's spine – a deformed man writhed in agony on a makeshift cot, his body marred by an intricate network of metal growths.
"Eckhardt's work," Kurtis whispered, his voice tinged with a mixture of disbelief and revulsion.
His presence didn't go unnoticed. A voice emerged from behind him, alerting him to the presence of another bodyguard. Kurtis pivoted to face the newcomer, his senses attuned to the unfolding situation.
"Yes, I'm looking for your boss," Kurtis responded, his gaze locked onto the approaching figure.
The bodyguard inquired further, probing for the purpose behind Kurtis's presence and, notably, the condition of the suffering man. Kurtis's reply carried an air of urgency and suspicion, poised to discern the truth behind the enigmatic circumstances.
"What happened to your man here?" Kurtis questioned, his voice carrying a mix of concern and curiosity.
"Arnaud? You have something to say about that," another voice interjected.
The bodyguard yielded, allowing his superior to step forward and reveal himself. Bouchard, the man in question, confirmed his identity in response to Kurtis's recognition.
"Bouchard?" Kurtis queried, a note of affirmation coloring his tone.
"Yes," Bouchard acknowledged, his expression bearing a trace of wariness. "Who are you?"
In response, Kurtis emphasized the insignificance of his own identity, shifting the focus to the dire circumstances at hand.
"Who I am does not matter, but what's happening here does," Kurtis stated firmly. "I know you're working with Eckhardt, and he is targeting you. But the question is, why?"
Bouchard, his countenance a tapestry of mixed emotions, confirmed Kurtis's suspicion regarding his involvement with Eckhardt.
"Yes, I work for Eckhardt, but that was before I realized what kind of psychopath he was," Bouchard admitted, his voice tinged with regret.
Kurtis probed further, seeking answers to the enigma that had ensnared them all.
"So you turned your back on him," Kurtis surmised.
"And then he started threatening my men, my families if I didn't start helping him with something," Bouchard confessed with a heavy sigh. "So I gave him someone's number."
The revelation hung heavily in the air, prompting Kurtis to inquire about the identity of this mysterious individual.
"Who?" he pressed.
"Werner," Bouchard disclosed. "But Werner then contacted you. Why?"
"Because he wanted protection and contacts of the Louvre. I gave him Mathias Vasiley's number," Bouchard explained. "A former Lux Veritatis knight to help him."
Kurtis pieced together the fragmented puzzle, his mind racing to unravel the intricate web of alliances and betrayals.
"What was Vasiley helping Werner for?" Kurtis questioned, his tone tinged with suspicion.
"The locations of all Five Obscure paintings," Bouchard revealed, shedding light on the motive behind the enigmatic pursuit. "And for this, Werner gets killed, and a former adventurer is now looking for them."
Kurtis dug deeper, seeking to comprehend the extent of Bouchard's knowledge and involvement.
"How do you know about the Lux Veritatis and that Vasiley was one of them?" he inquired, recognizing that such knowledge was not common.
Bouchard's response underscored the perils of his association with the Cabal and the clandestine world in which he operated.
"Look, working for the Cabal lets you know who the enemies are. If I start recognizing your face, you're one of them," Bouchard affirmed, his words carrying a sense of caution.
Kurtis, acknowledging the precarious nature of the situation, remained resolute in his determination to uncover the truth.
"Like I said, who I am does not matter," Kurtis stated emphatically, emphasizing the urgency of the mission at hand.
With vital information secured, Kurtis prepared to depart, leaving Bouchard and his bodyguard with a solemn charge.
"If a brunette comes here, you'll help her get what she wants. But act as though you didn't expect her," Kurtis instructed, his words shrouded in mystery.
Bouchard and his bodyguard watched in contemplation as Kurtis exited, understanding the gravity of the situation they found themselves in.
"Sir?" the bodyguard queried, seeking guidance.
"Make sure whoever this woman is, she makes it to me, understood? I'm already in trouble with the Cabal. I do not want the Lux Veritatis on my ass as well," Bouchard affirmed, the weight of his decisions and alliances pressing heavily upon him.
Cafe Metro
Paris
17 November 2003
09:45
Lara Croft
Lara's departure from Le Serpent Rouge was marked by the absence of Janice, the prostitute who had warned her about the police investigation earlier. Hoping that Janice had found a safe and pleasant encounter, Lara continued on her way, determined to carry out the next steps of her mission.
Cafe Metro served as her destination, where she planned to hand over the small box she had retrieved from Le Serpent Rouge to Pierre. The cafe was notably busier than when she had last visited, with patrons scattered about, immersed in their own conversations and activities. Her eyes briefly glanced at the table where the mysterious stranger had been sitting earlier, his newspaper still unfolded and his coffee partially consumed.
"I guess Pierre hasn't had time to clean this up yet," Lara mused, a faint smile touching her lips as she contemplated the remnants of the stranger's presence.
As she examined the front page of the newspaper, her eyes fell upon a headline that seized her attention.
"PARISIAN 'MONSTRUM' KILLINGS CONTINUE. LARA CROFT WANTED FOR QUESTIONING."
A wry smile curled on Lara's lips at the revelation. It seemed that the authorities were more interested in questioning her than arresting her, a fact that did little to dampen her spirits.
"Oh, so they just want to question me," she murmured, her tone marked by a hint of amusement.
Her inspection of the table yielded another discovery – a small piece of paper concealed beneath the stranger's cup. As she retrieved it, her eyes skimmed the contents, revealing a list of Cabal members. It was a valuable find, one that could potentially serve her well in the ongoing intrigue.
Lara pocketed the note discreetly, her mind already formulating plans to put this newfound information to good use. Her attention was soon diverted as Pierre approached, a sense of urgency and discretion enveloping his demeanor.
"Did you?" he began in a hushed tone, "Everything go okay?"
Lara, equally discreet, confirmed the success of her mission.
"You were right about the place being staked out," she replied, removing the small box from her possession. "There were gunmen all over the place. No sign of the Monstrum, though."
Pierre's exuberance was evident as he reached for the box, but Lara swiftly pulled it out of his reach.
"Now a little matter of Bouchard's whereabouts?" she inquired, her eyes fixed firmly on Pierre.
Pierre, momentarily deflated by her actions, hesitated before responding.
"You aren't going to disappoint me, are you?" Lara added, her finger pointing pointedly at his chest.
Pierre, eager to regain her trust and assistance, assured her of his cooperation.
"Alright, Bouchard is lying low," he divulged. "I know someone who can show you where."
Lara's inquisitive gaze remained locked onto Pierre as she awaited further details.
"You can trust them, this person you know?" she questioned.
"Just about. Name of Francine. She's my ex," Pierre revealed, prompting a raised eyebrow from Lara.
"Reassuring," she commented, her skepticism thinly veiled.
With the matter seemingly settled, Pierre prepared to provide Lara with the necessary information.
"Listen, Francine can point you to Bouchard," he assured her. "She knows a discreet route to the back of the premises."
Lara, her instincts ever alert, weighed her options and considered the risks involved.
"Discreet? Translation: dangerous," she mused, her thoughts reflecting the harsh reality of her predicament.
"Nothing in Paris is safe, but this route will get you where you want to go," Pierre acknowledged, acknowledging the grim truth of their circumstances.
With information in hand, Lara prepared to depart, leaving Pierre with a parting message.
"I hope this arrangement works out, Pierre," she said. "I'd hate for you to become a personal problem."
As she exited the cafe, her path led her to the gates of Francine's residence. A security code granted her access, and she ventured inside, taking note of her surroundings. The presence of a red truck in the garage provided a curious backdrop to her visit.
As Lara knocked on the door, awaiting a response, she couldn't help but wonder about the intricacies of Pierre's network and alliances. Francine, clad in a distinctive ensemble, emerged to greet her, exuding an air of confidence and knowledge that hinted at her involvement in the covert world they inhabited.
"So how do I find Bouchard?" Lara inquired, her focus unwavering.
"Bouchard is in the old church," Francine revealed, her voice carrying a note of certainty. "It would be best if you found the mausoleum in the churchyard. It leads down into the church basements."
Lara, recognizing the impending challenges, acknowledged the provided information. She couldn't help but comment on the dangerous nature of the suggested path.
"Is this the best way?" she inquired, her skepticism palpable.
Francine's response encapsulated the harsh reality of their circumstances.
"It's the only way past the Doorman. Watch out for the ledges. They are dangerous," she cautioned.
Lara's response was marked by a hint of irony, a testament to her adaptability in the face of adversity.
"What isn't these days?" she remarked.
"Welcome to Paris," Francine chuckled, the shared understanding of their world underscoring the gravity of their mission.
Saying her farewell to Francine, Lara emerged onto the balcony, with the imposing silhouette of the old church before her. The churchyard, shrouded in an eerie atmosphere, presented her with a visual puzzle. Her keen eyes quickly assessed the situation, noting that the desired destination lay on another balcony just beyond the church wall.
"I need to get to that balcony," Lara determined, her resolve unwavering.
To her left, however, the distance to the nearest balcony proved too great for a simple jump. Her path forward was obstructed, but a potential solution lay before her eyes—a ledge extending around the corner of the building.
"That will work," she decided, her tactical thinking in full swing.
Guided by her intuition, Lara proceeded to the right, where she encountered a balcony positioned at a more favorable distance. With a graceful leap, she reached for the balcony's railing, pulling herself up. A nearby pipe, her potential ally, beckoned her to continue her ascent. The pipe offered a pathway to the precarious ledges that wound around the building's corner.
"It might hold my weight," Lara mused, acknowledging the inherent risk of her chosen route.
Undaunted, she began to climb the pipe, her nimble movements demonstrating her expertise. The ledge that marked the building's corner invited her cautious footsteps, and as she ventured forward, it emitted disconcerting creaks, heightening her awareness.
"Looks unstable," she noted, her instincts keenly attuned to the surroundings.
The warning from Francine resonated in her thoughts, and Lara resolved to proceed with utmost precision.
"I better time this right," she muttered, her determination unwavering.
Taking a step back, she positioned herself at the edge of the ledge, ready to sprint forward. Deep breaths calmed her racing heart as she steeled herself for the challenge. With her resolve firm, Lara launched into a sprint, navigating the treacherous ledges with deftness. The ominous sounds of cracking and splintering followed her every move, but she reached the safety of the other side just in the nick of time.
"That was close," she acknowledged, her sense of danger heightening her adrenaline.
Having successfully surmounted this initial obstacle, Lara continued her journey, lowering herself to the corner ledge before progressing to the next balcony. Her movements were swift and purposeful, guided by her unwavering determination to unravel the mysteries hidden within the old church's depths.
Amidst the challenges and danger that Paris presented, Lara's resourcefulness and expertise remained her greatest allies. As she pressed onward, her gaze fell upon a suspended wire glinting in the dim light—a potential tool in her arsenal for overcoming the next obstacle.
"I can use it to get across," she surmised, her eyes narrowing with focus as she devised her next move.
Church Building
Paris
17 November 2003
10:20
Kurtis Trent
After leaving Bouchard's hideout, Kurtis found himself within the confines of the church building. Scattered gym equipment and a boxing ring occupied the space, but it was a figure within the ring that drew his attention—a boxer who seemed to hold the information he sought.
"I need to talk with him," Kurtis thought to himself.
Stepping forward with a sense of purpose, he made his way toward the boxing ring, but the trainer stationed nearby quickly blocked his path.
"Stay away from the ring," the trainer warned, clearly cautious.
Unperturbed, Kurtis presented his request. "I want a word with one of your boxers."
The trainer, inquisitive and wary, questioned further. "Why?"
His reply was cryptic yet revealing. "I need information."
The mention of the Cabal sent a shiver down the trainer's spine, and his gaze shifted to the figure in the ring.
"Zak," the trainer called out.
The tattooed boxer, apparently named Zak, climbed out of the ring, his curiosity piqued by the unexpected guest.
"Kurtis, are you still alive?" Zak exclaimed.
Kurtis greeted him with a wry smile. "Nice seeing you too, Zak. Might I have a word alone?"
Zak agreed and led Kurtis to the locker rooms, closing the door behind them.
"So what brings you to Paris?" Zak inquired.
Kurtis got straight to the point. "Eckhardt."
Understanding the gravity of the situation, Zak offered his assistance. "I see. I have a file on his movements here in Paris only."
Taking the file, Kurtis expressed his gratitude. "Thanks."
Zak explained the reason for joining the club and the troubling information he had gathered about Bouchard's dealings with Eckhardt.
"But we trusted the Vasiley family for years. Why give it away like that?" Kurtis pondered aloud.
Zak's reply hinted at the underlying fear that had gripped Vasiley. "He didn't want to say it. But I could hear in his voice that something was scaring him."
Kurtis thanked Zak for the valuable information and offered a word of caution. "Just watch your back. Eckhardt already killed everyone. If I'm right, we're part of the few left of the order."
Zak nodded, understanding the gravity of their situation. "Okay, I will. Kurtis, one last thing."
Kurtis awaited Zak's final words.
"Glad you're back," Zak remarked.
Kurtis's response reflected the somber truth of his return. "I didn't have a choice."
With their exchange concluded, both men were left to face the unforgiving challenges of their shared destiny in the shadowy world of the Cabal.
Bouchard's Hideout
Paris
17 November 2003
10:55
Lara Croft
Lara pressed on through the dark and damp tunnels, her path fraught with obstacles and challenges. Rats scurried around her as she navigated the underground passages, her determination unwavering.
As she approached the next section, she encountered another pit, the floor having collapsed. Lara, seemingly unfazed by the setback, dropped into the pit once more and began crawling through a low tunnel teeming with rats. Her resourcefulness and agility served her well as she reached the second pit.
In this cramped and treacherous environment, Lara's tenacity shone through. She used a small rock to boost herself up, successfully grabbing the ledge above. With precision and control, she angled herself and jumped to the next ledge, pressing forward with her mission.
Her path was riddled with more challenges, including another section of collapsed floor. Lara's curiosity about how others navigated this perilous place fueled her determination.
As she approached a pit filled with water, she realized that there was no clear passage through. However, her resourcefulness knew no bounds. Lara dived into the murky water, skillfully swimming beneath the obstacle to reach the far side of the pool. Scaling a vine-covered wall, she emerged from the water, her relentless pursuit of her objective unwavering.
Continuing along the passage, Lara soon encountered a cave-in. However, her keen instincts led her to a gate next to the rubble. Determined to overcome yet another obstacle, she pried the grating open and crawled through the narrow opening, emerging on the other side of the rubble.
As she cautiously moved forward, her senses heightened, Lara discovered a door and peered through it. Inside, a deformed man writhed in agony on a cot, his body marred by the grotesque presence of metal. The absence of guards in the vicinity allowed Lara to ponder the significance of this unsettling discovery.
Lara entered the room, her gaze focused on the man seated before her. It had to be Bouchard, and she was determined to get the information she needed.
"What happened to your man in the room out there, Bouchard?" Lara inquired, her tone laced with curiosity and an undertone of suspicion.
Bouchard rose from his chair, his demeanor cautious. "To Arnaud? You got something to say about that?" he responded, his hands raised defensively. His men swiftly surrounded Lara, ready to intervene if necessary.
"Maybe. It might be linked to what happened to a friend of mine," Lara replied, her eyes darting between Bouchard and his guards.
"I doubt it," Bouchard retorted dismissively, wiping his face with a cloth. "Get her out of here."
Lara, undeterred, continued her line of questioning. "Do you know the name, Eckhardt?"
"Never heard of him," Bouchard claimed, though his uneasy demeanor suggested otherwise.
Lara persisted, shifting her focus to her primary objective. "You helped a friend of mine a while back. Werner von Croy."
Bouchard seemed somewhat more cooperative this time, albeit cautiously. "Names don't mean a lot here. Even real ones," he replied. "What did he want?"
Lara decided to forgo her initial inquiries about the Monstrum killings and honed in on the information she needed about the Louvre. "Maps and information on the Louvre."
Bouchard's memory was jogged. "I remember. Four weeks ago, he wanted to take a coach of Japanese tourists to see the Mona Lisa."
Lara couldn't help but reveal a hint of desperation. "Easy, Bouchard. I lost that friend yesterday, and now I'm wanted for his murder."
Bouchard, however, seemed to have other matters on his mind. "There was a newscast about a Monstrum killing earlier. What would you know about that?"
With her priorities clear, Lara steered the conversation back to her objective. "Nothing that will interest you."
Bouchard, curious about her connection to the Monstrum, probed further. "You'd be surprised how much the Monstrum interests me."
But Lara pressed on, focusing on the Louvre and her need for certain supplies. "My friend? The Louvre?"
"Yes, the academic," Bouchard acknowledged. "Wanted access to recent archaeological diggings inside the Louvre. I gave him a contact. You want the same?"
Lara was eager to learn more about this contact, hoping it would provide crucial insights into her friend's dealings. "And more. I need 9mm protection, a backpack, plastic explosives, and a stunning pack. Paris isn't safe these days."
Bouchard appeared skeptical of her need for such equipment. "Who for? You obviously can take care of yourself."
But Lara was cautious not to reveal too much. "Do you have what I need?"
"I know who does," Bouchard replied, relenting somewhat. "Daniel Rennes works out of the pawnbrokers on the corner of Rue st. Mark and Cours la Seine."
Lara nodded, absorbing the information. She had a lead to follow, and it was imperative that she tread carefully in this dangerous game.
Lara agreed to Bouchard's proposition, understanding that this transaction was a necessary step to obtain the supplies she required. She couldn't help but feel uneasy about handling passports, even if they were just Czech passports, in exchange for her equipment.
"Okay, deal," she confirmed, accepting the passports and tucking them away in her jeans pocket.
Bouchard emphasized the importance of ensuring the package reached the right recipient. "Make sure Rennes gets that package," he cautioned, adding a final cryptic warning. "And be sure it's Rennes."
Lara raised an eyebrow, puzzled by his insinuation. "Why? Who could it be?"
Bouchard's response only deepened the mystery. "I'd like to ask poor Arnaud that, but he can't talk anymore." He gestured to his guards. "Take care."
As Lara left Bouchard's hideout, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this situation than met the eye. The mention of attacks, the Paris Monstrum, and the cryptic warning about the package recipient all added to the growing sense of intrigue and danger surrounding her mission in Paris.
With passports in her possession and a rendezvous with Daniel Rennes on the horizon, Lara knew that navigating the web of secrets and alliances in this city would be her greatest challenge yet. Paris had proven to be a city of shadows, and she was determined to uncover the truth lurking within them.
