Chapter 12: Planning

Old Guesthouse

Paris

17 November 2003

13:35

Lara Croft

Lara embarked on a serendipitous discovery as she strolled through the meandering streets, her curiosity piqued by an old, forgotten guesthouse tucked away just a few blocks from the tranquil embrace of the Canal. Decades of weathering had caused the once-vibrant paint to peel away, exposing the timeworn bricks and leaving behind a mosaic of faded memories.

As she approached, Lara couldn't help but notice the desolation that had engulfed the place. The guesthouse's walls, once gleaming and inviting, were now shrouded in dusty veils and adorned with labyrinthine cobwebs. Nature had declared its dominion over the garden, transforming it into a living testament to neglect. The once-manicured lawn was a tangle of tall, wild grass, and the unruly, overgrown plants had woven an intricate tapestry of wilderness. Even the fence, intended to offer a sense of boundary and order, had surrendered to nature's relentless advance, its wooden surface enveloped by the relentless embrace of climbing vines.

With each tentative step, Lara's senses bore witness to the decay that had overtaken the guesthouse. The wooden steps, weathered by years of exposure to the elements, groaned mournfully beneath her weight, their aged timbers protesting her intrusion. The sound reverberated through the stillness, a poignant reminder of the solitude that had enveloped this once-vibrant haven.

As she stood before the guesthouse, Lara felt a mix of emotions welling up within her. There was a sense of melancholy, a profound sadness that emanated from the decaying structure and the garden left to wither. Yet, there was also a whisper of intrigue, an irresistible allure that beckoned her to explore further, to uncover the stories hidden within these timeworn walls. In that moment, Lara stood at the threshold of a forgotten past, her heart torn between the weight of history and the promise of rediscovery.

"This place is falling apart," Lara muttered under her breath as she tentatively made her way into the reception area. The once-proud walls were now marred by a disheartening brownish-yellow stain, a testament to the passage of time and neglect. Cobwebs hung ominously from every corner of the ceiling, like spectral drapery, while the furniture, caked with a thick layer of dust, bore witness to years of abandonment.

Her footsteps echoed softly on the worn wooden floor as Lara approached the reception desk, her senses assaulted by the musty odor that pervaded the room. There, she discovered an elderly woman, her frail form slumbering amidst a chaotic tableau of coffee mugs and scattered papers.

"Sorry," Lara offered in a hushed tone, tapping the counter gently to rouse the woman. "Sorry."

With a slow and tired awakening, the woman lifted her head, her movements laden with fatigue. She yawned and rubbed her weary eyes before finally acknowledging Lara's p"I'm terribly sorry. I must have dozed off," she mumbled, pushing herself up from the desk. "How may I help you?"

Lara couldn't help but shiver as the woman's gaze bore into her. The mud and blood stains on her clothes, coupled with her scorched jacket, made for a rather disheveled appearance.

"I'm guessing the mud and blood on me aren't looking so great. Not to mention the burned jacket," Lara mused.

"A room for just a day, please," she added with a polite smile.

The woman nodded and retrieved a set of keys from the cluttered desk. "And you're gonna need some fresh clothes as well, am I right, Miss Croft?"

Lara gasped in astonishment. "How do you know who I am?"

With a knowing gesture, the lady pointed at the radio on the counter, her lips curving into a brittle smile. "I've heard about what happened recently, Miss Croft, and just to let you know I believe you're not the killer."

Lara's curiosity piqued, she pressed further. "Why do you believe that?"

"Because, Miss Croft, the Cabal is the true villain behind the Monstrum killings. I believe they kept you alive for one reason."

The lady then led Lara to a door at the back of the room, motioning for her to follow. The revelation of her knowledge about Lara's situation left her intrigued and somewhat unsettled.

"How do you know all this?" Lara inquired.

"This place was a stronghold for the warriors of the light," the lady explained.

"The Lux Veritatis," Lara whispered, recognizing the name.

"And they don't use it anymore," the woman continued, her voice tinged with sorrow. "No, they're all dead. That I know of." She sighed as they entered a room filled with clothes. "Last time I heard from any of them was before the battle in Turkey a few months back."

"I'm so sorry about the loss," Lara expressed her condolences sincerely. "But you said the Cabal kept me alive. Why?"

"Experience, I'm guessing," the woman replied cryptically. "You've been known by the world for all your findings, Miss Croft. I believe the Cabal wants you to find something for them by forcing you on the run."

Lara couldn't help but roll her eyes mentally. "Great, just what I need."

"I told you too much already, Miss Croft," the lady cautioned, her demeanor growing cautious. "Take anything you need here. Your room is down the hall. Please enjoy your stay." With those parting words, she left Lara alone in the room filled with clothes, a torrent of questions and concerns swirling in her mind.

Lara's sigh of relief escaped her lips as she rummaged through the piles of clothing, finally finding a set of camouflage attire and a sturdy pair of army boots. "Now, this will do just great," she thought to herself, her fingers running over the fabric as she envisioned the upcoming challenges that lay ahead.

With the chosen attire in her arms, Lara made her way to the room assigned to her. The room's atmosphere was a stark contrast to the neglected reception area. A sense of sanctuary washed over her as she closed the door behind her, leaving the outside world and its mysteries momentarily behind.

After indulging in a long, hot shower that washed away the grime and weariness, Lara decided to revisit Werner's notebook, her curiosity compelling her to delve deeper into the enigmatic world she had been thrust into.

Her fingers traced the faded pages as she read aloud, her voice filled with a mixture of fascination and determination. "The Obscura painting was five 15th-century works of black alchemic magic, all lost, hidden by the Lux Veritatis," she recited, her eyes scanning the cryptic text. "Five Obscura Engravings, drawn copies of the paintings. Contain encrypted maps of the location of each painting."

Her brow furrowed as she continued, uncovering a pivotal piece of information. "Here's something else. Mathias Vasiley also sent Werner all four of them but kept the fifth."

Her heart sank as she read the note next to the engraving in the notebook. "This is located beneath the Louvre. Must contact Lara for help."

A pang of regret washed over her. "I'm sorry, Werner," she whispered to the empty room, her voice filled with a mixture of guilt and grief. The weight of her mentor's trust and the unfinished mission pressed upon her shoulders.

Lara closed the notebook, resolving to honor Werner's legacy by pursuing the truth behind the Obscura paintings. She knew that this journey would be fraught with danger and intrigue, but it was a path she had chosen to walk.

Sighing once more, she glanced at the time and realized she had an appointment at the Cafe with Zak. Pushing her thoughts aside for the moment, she dressed in the newfound attire and made her way to the rendezvous, her mind brimming with questions and her heart steeled for the adventures yet to come.


Hotel

Paris

17 November 2003

14:25

Kurtis Trent

Kurtis' footsteps echoed in the dimly lit hotel room as he paced back and forth, the threadbare carpet muffling the sound but unable to dampen the anxiety that radiated from him. He clutched his phone tightly to his ear, the cool metal providing a stark contrast to the heat of the conversation that unfolded.

The room itself seemed to close in around him, its shadows elongating as evening crept in. The flickering neon sign outside cast an intermittent glow through the half-drawn curtains, adding a surreal quality to the moment.

His voice, typically steady and confident, now quivered with a palpable apprehension as he engaged in an urgent conversation. Words tumbled from his lips, each one heavy with the weight of his mission, the gravity of which pressed heavily on his shoulders. His brow furrowed with concern, and his eyes darted about the room, as if searching for answers that remained frustratingly elusive.

The urgency in his tone was unmistakable, conveying the sense that time was running out, and the stakes were unbearably high. In the dimly lit room, Kurtis wrestled with the unknown, the tension in the air thickening with each passing moment.

"Steph, time's running low. We need to hurry," he implored, his words laced with an unspoken fear of what might happen if they didn't act swiftly.

On the other end of the line, Steph's voice crackled with tension and concern, her response carrying the weight of their shared burden. "I know, Kurtis, but tracking Eckhardt's movements like this isn't easy. William's also in Turkey, by the way. Just three hours ago."

Kurtis clenched his jaw, the gravity of the situation sinking in. "This is not good, Steph. If William's been captured, and they've found the sleeper, it's just a matter of time until they have all the paintings together."

Frustration gnawed at him as he considered the enormity of the threat they faced. He turned his attention back to Steph's previous revelation. "Didn't you just tell me you have an outsider helping?"

Steph's response carried a glimmer of hope amidst the despair. "Yeah, but I'm gonna try to get her off the trail before she gets too much involved."

Kurtis sighed, his mind racing with plans and contingencies. "Steph, you know I've been trying to keep her out of this."

Steph's voice grew serious, her words carrying the weight of her experience. "Kurtis, you know I've been watching the news. By now, I know who you're talking about."

Kurtis realized that his secret was no longer safe. "I'm guessing you know it's the world-famous Lara Croft."

"Yes, Kurtis, I wasn't born under a rock," Steph replied, her exasperation evident. "Look, Lara's a good asset, but don't underestimate her. She can get all the paintings before the Cabal."

Kurtis hesitated, Steph's words striking a chord within him. "But then the Cabal goes after her."

Steph's wisdom hit him like a revelation. "Kurtis, have you ever stopped and asked yourself if the Cabal kept her alive because they know what she is capable of?"

A moment of silence hung heavy in the air as Kurtis processed this new perspective. "Shit, Steph has a point."

"No, I haven't thought of it like that."

"That means keep an eye on her and keep the Cabal off her back. That way, she'll trust you more and give you the paintings rather than get them taken off her by the Cabal."

Kurtis nodded, even though Steph couldn't see him. "You've got a point," he conceded, his hand running through his hair in frustration. "Thanks, Steph. I'll call you later."

With those words, the call ended, leaving Kurtis alone in the dimly lit room, his mind buzzing with newfound determination and a plan to navigate the treacherous path ahead.

As the call with Steph came to an end, Kurtis carefully placed the phone in his pocket, the weight of their conversation still hanging in the air. He felt the exhaustion of the morning's events bearing down on him, and he sank wearily onto the hotel bed with a deep, resigned sigh. The room's dim lighting seemed to reflect his own sense of uncertainty.

"I'll need to make a plan to get the first painting from Miss Croft so that it's safe," Kurtis murmured to himself, his voice laced with determination as he began to sketch out the contours of a strategy in his mind. His thoughts raced with the complexity of the situation, and he knew that even though Steph believed Lara might assist them, he couldn't rely solely on that hope. Doubts and concerns still lingered.

The mission weighed on him like a relentless burden, pressing him to stay vigilant and make no mistakes in the days that lay ahead. With a weary resolve, Kurtis knew that he had no room for error in this high-stakes game, where the fate of the Obscura paintings, and perhaps even more, hung in the balance.


Cafe Metro

Paris

17 November 2003

14:25

Lara Croft

Lara entered the dimly lit Cafe, and her presence seemed to shock Pierre, who quickly made his way toward her. However, she raised a hand to halt him, her gaze sweeping the room until she spotted Zak sitting in a particular corner.

What's with that corner? Lara wondered briefly before heading toward Zak, taking a seat across from him.

"Thanks for seeing me here," Zak greeted her as he settled into his chair.

Lara got straight to the point. "I need info. You seem to be the guy."

Zak leaned in, his expression serious. "You know the Cabal?"

"They're part of the Mafia in Prague," Lara replied, her curiosity piqued by the strange turn of events.

Zak nodded in agreement. "Yes, that's right, but they use it as a front for real activity. They're a group of people devoted to bringing the Nephilim race back from extinction."

"The biblical Nephilim who died out after the flood," Lara mused.

"The one and the same. But they never died out. They lived after the flood, slowly dying out. Only one's left alive, and the other one, the sleeper," Zak explained.

"They want to awaken the sleeper. But how?" Lara inquired, her voice laced with concern.

"With the paintings. When all five are together, they get the power to awaken the sleeper," Zak revealed.

Lara's eyes widened as she grasped the gravity of the situation. "What you're telling me is that the paintings need to be destroyed before the Cabal finds them."

Zak nodded emphatically. "Yes."

Lara couldn't help but feel a sense of urgency. "How do you know this?"

Zak leaned back, a hint of mystery in his gaze. "Just say I'm with the light."

Lara realized the significance of his words. "You're a Lux Veritatis."

Zak's expression confirmed her assumption. "I see. So are there more of you?"

"Just a few of us left, I'm afraid," he admitted. "But be aware that one of them will be in the shadows watching and waiting."

Lara furrowed her brow, seeking clarification. "What do you mean?"

Zak's tone turned solemn. "Just remember what I'm telling you, Miss Croft."

Lara was taken aback by his knowledge and concern for her. "Wait, how did you know?"

"I read the paper before you came and realized who I was dealing with," Zak explained. "You're innocent in this."

"Thank you," Lara replied, her gratitude evident in her eyes.

Zak offered a final, cryptic piece of advice. "Good luck, Miss Croft."

As Zak left the cafe, Lara knew she had a crucial mission ahead of her. She needed to devise a plan to break into the Louvre that night, to protect the paintings and thwart the Cabal's sinister ambitions. With Zak's revelation and the weight of this newfound knowledge on her shoulders, she couldn't afford to waste any time.


Unknown Location

Paris

17 November 2003

20:00

Cabal

In the dimly lit room, eerie statues adorned each corner, their grotesque features appearing almost otherworldly. They stood sentinel, like enigmatic guardians of a forbidden realm, their presence lending an unsettling air to the surroundings. At the center of the room, Eckhardt stood before a round table where members of the Cabal were seated. Behind him, a screen displayed the true images of all five Obscura paintings, their dark and mystic allure captivating those in attendance. These paintings, once hidden behind layers of religious imagery by the Lux Veritas, now took center stage as the embodiment of the Cabal's malevolent ambition.

"Esteemed Cabal members," Eckhardt began, his voice carrying the weight of authority and purpose, "the day of your reward grows ever closer."

He paced around the table, his fingers idly rubbing a gloved hand, a gesture that betrayed the anticipation and excitement that simmered beneath his composed exterior.

The members of the Cabal regarded him with a mixture of curiosity and reverence, their faces veiled in shadows. They were an assembly of secretive individuals, each with their own role to play in the unfolding scheme.

"Our contact, Professor von Croy, located the first Obscura painting here in Paris for us," Eckhardt continued, his words revealing a key breakthrough in their quest. "When we have it, we'll reassemble in Germany for the second painting. We also have the true location of the sleeper."

Karel, Eckhardt's right-hand man, leaned forward with a sinister smirk on his face, his eyes filled with a fervent zeal for their mission.

"How sure are you?" Karel inquired, a hint of skepticism underlying his tone.

Eckhardt, however, exuded unwavering confidence. "Sure enough that the sleeper is already on its way to the Strahov in Prague."

With that proclamation, all eyes turned to Gunderson, a tall, bald man in a soldier's uniform, who approached Eckhardt.

Eckhardt placed his gloved hand on Gunderson's shoulder, and a bluish glow began to seep into his limb, the eerie radiance serving as an unsettling reminder of the supernatural forces at play.

"Dispatch your team for the first painting," Eckhardt commanded.

Gunderson's response was immediate and unwavering. "Immediately."

In that dimly lit chamber, the Cabal's dark machinations were set in motion, and the pursuit of the Obscura paintings had reached a pivotal juncture. The pieces of a sinister puzzle were falling into place, and the stakes had never been higher.