Ok, I'm still at this one to. So here we go.
She stifled a sneeze and held back her sudden rush of bile as the strong breeze blew over from near the 'church'. The stench of the place had taken a turn for the worse. She didn't mind the rotting flesh, the steaming human refuse, methane, urine so much as it was that abhorrent cologne HE all but bathed in everyday on the Endurance that made her stand up straighter, and almost vomit.
It was what first suggested to her, all those years ago, that HE was far from a legit success on any level; cologne by the bottle to mask his insecurity, alcohol, perfume of other women... all his mountains of grade-A bullshit.
She shook her head as she remembered all the chances she had to end him before; only to simply watch. None the less, fate had played out as it must. Now here he was fulfilling his only true use to anyone: as a lifeless, soulless puppet; and granting 'her' another chance to deliver justice.
Part of her was disgusted by the necromancer's desecration of 'one of them', but the greater part of her wanted to hug the necromancer before she tore his balls off... and she all but danced as she spotted the familiar flawless golden locks of hair as she snuck up beside the swaying, half eaten carcass... Whitman.
The badly decimated corpse of the partly eaten alive treacherous coward stood unmoving, staring at the gate from the top of a derelict building; his half masticated mouth running free with gore.
She stashed the Kriss, and began to climb.
He never so much as stirred as she closed ranks, stealthy as a spider, and drew out one of her forty calibre Glocks, and smiled as she slowly squeezed the trigger, "Goodbye Doctor."
The body suddenly collapsed to the ground, as if a marionette whose strings had just been cut.
For a moment, she felt cheated, played like a mark; then a second thought occurred to her... trap.
She dove off the shack, seconds before it exploded.
Splintered wood missed her eyes by inches. The deafening reverberation of the blast, however, made her drop her gun, and her head ring painfully; just long enough for the second surprise to let itself be known.
The Desert Eagle was aggressively torn from her back strap holster, and tossed aside. Her remaining Glock was almost effortlessly wrenched from her hand as she, still half dazed, pulled it from its holster, then her shirt was quickly pulled off, leaving her in her lycra top, as she feebly tried to regain equilibrium. Surprisingly he stopped at the shirt, but did give her right breast a firm groping as he searched her for weapons. Strangely, the pawing resulted in a depressed moan from the figure, as he turned her on her stomach.
"You have no idea what potential is wasted in you," he scolded angrily, "Such a colossal loss of a remarkable life." he rapidly tied her arms behind her back.
She kicked and squirmed uselessly as he straddled her hips.
He forcefully turned her on her back once more, lifting her like a carry-on.
He was another big one - another armored Solari corpse - smaller than Ivan, but this one was wearing a reinforced welders mask (he was a quick learner). The voice, however, was a change: though somewhat garbled, it was clearly North American; whoever they were, these people were international.
"Look at you!," he went on, stepping away from her to kick the dust in disgust, like an enraged parent or University academic advisor, "You could have been a remarkable... hell, 'peerless' fucking operative; operations chief; CEO; Prime Minister... fucking world shaper! You looked the impossible in the eye... and made it blink! You had no fear, no hesitance, nothing distracted you, nothing put you off. You were remarkable! Then you let yourself fall insultingly easily because of weak sentimentality..." he went on, lost in the sound of his own words coming out of another's mouth.
She wriggled against the circulation blocking knots holding her arms taught. She scanned her surroundings for anything to help her, but there was nothing to be seen in the darkness, until...
...she spied a small red dot of light waving wildly above the corpses armored head.
She supressed a smile, as her confidence returned full-blown,"'James'," she sighed seductively, "about time lover; off flirting with Moneypenny hmm?"
"Well, eh... no. Falling off zip-lines. Worry not, my bones and my pride broke my falls." Evan answered with a moan.
"Poor baby. Get this done, I'll tatoo your name on my ass," she whispered.
"Awe, so sweet," Evan sighed softly, "I just kill this armored, Jason Vorhees stand-in, and you have WHAT exactly tattooed?, 'This flawless ass belongs to...'."
"Romantic as ever," she interjected, "calling yourself my property," she whispered as the corpse went on, oblivious to her conversation, " I was thinking, 'Evan Carter's lips are property of this ass'."
"So adorable, that noble birth shines through again."
She grinned, slightly, "Head shots won't do it," she sighed as the corpse picked up a massive riot shield, and massive machete, "Oh shit, lectures over. I have an idea." she inched her way backward, and slowly into a wire fenced supply cart loading den. Evan was located just to the far right, and ten football fields away on a high platform overlooking the town; his target was a winch cable; an impossible shot. So she whispered softly under her breath, "Now, just shoot the cable... on my call. No stress. If you miss, I'll have to trip him, and kill him with both hands tied behind my back; and make you feel less manly. He he. So don't miss, please."
The Solari raised his blade, just missing the massive net stuffed with almost a ton of supplies above his head.
Lara smiled as a feeling of euphoria swept over her; she would never regret that night at the hotel bar,"I love you, now shoot - cowboy" she moaned softly as the cable snapped from the bullet, dropping the contents down on the killer's pawn's head, crushing it.
"Nutter," Evan sighed, "remember, every letter of my name, must be capitalized..."
"I'm getting it in Sanscrit." she sighed as she got up on her feet, and walked over to the fallen blade.
"You sassy, bondage fetish goddess."
She smirked at the source of the red dot, then brought her middle finger up as she tossed the shredded shirt aside.
"Add another skill: sign language."
"Get down here," she said with a laugh, "we need to clear this town. I think he's here. He didn't speak before. I think he couldn't, wasn't close enough." She grabbed her guns.
"Fuck!," Evan shouted.
She smiled, and shook her head, "More chickens Evan?"
"Evan ain't here Lara," another raspy voice, the same North American tone, "now, where were we?"
She grabbed her torn shirt on a whim, and sprang up to the rooftops, ever mindful of the red dot that could at any minute appear on her body.
After a few anxious minutes, she hunkered down behind cover, on a rooftop almost directly across from his sniping position, and listening for any sound of Evan over the earpiece. Finlay, she stared over at the last place she saw the dot, and said directly."I'm going on instinct here, but... I never dreamed I'd give my heart completely again after all I've lost, let alone in less than a week; but you are so... God, I don't know. I just want to keep this going. You are so funny, so kind, genuine, honest. I need that in a my life Evan. I lost so much of my life here. In spite of what..." silence, "oh God, not you to, not now... " she bowed her head as she regained control of her breath, and focus.
"You are sooo romantic...," Evan moaned weakly, "Ah shit! Get down lover," he gasped.
The dot suddenly shown in her eyes; she ducked just as the bullet tore off the head of another Solari. Just to her right.
"Evan?," she gasped happily.
"You had me at: 'I like girls' 'L'," Evan coughed out laughing, "You had me at 'I like girls'."
"Very funny!," she screamed, "scaring me almost to death!"
He stammered nervously.
Then she smiled, "You owe me," she commanded, "Three foot massages a day, starting tonight."
"And the down side?"
She laughed loud and hard, "If you're lucky, I might even let you suck my toes... for starters."
"Not to complain, but what happened to 'this is hardly the place...'."
"You only live once," she said softly, "but if you don't want to..."
"Right foot or left first?"
She smiled, "Well, let's clean out the stiff riff-raff, then light this overblown cesspool..."
"A Solari-que?"
She shook her head, "Stop trying... you have me. Just be ready to lick my heels."
"So lady-like... honestly, there was this posh bird from..."
"Evan," she sighed as he went on.
"She wore these leather straps, and a ba..."
"Fire first!," she almost screamed.
He snickered, "A bloke can dream," he sighed wistfully
She smiled, "no silly hard-core business... leather straps? We'll see how you do with my pinky toes"
"Saint." he gasped.
"But first you limber my feet up, and see how dexterous I am on a hard surface." she sighted a stealthy Solari crawling Evan's way, and dropped him with a single shot to the head.
"What a great gal," he sighed contentedly, "Hey, lets paint the town... eh, greyish red."
She smiled, and shook her head, "Hysterical, really. Try harder." she giggled.
"Nag, nag, nag. Shall we?"
So they began their sport, killing anything that flinched at the other, and kept at it till they reached the great gate once more; then, lit every carcass.
The two met in the middle, and walked the now perfectly still streets, hand in hand, making one another laugh; till finally the two stepped toward the 'church'. Lara smiled, "Remember, YOU proposed; and I still have the shell casing... no going back. That was horrible. This place is just so sad; the poor girl."
"What girl?," he asked.
She frowned, "A victim."
As they entered, Lara had no idea that what he helped her discover on this little tour she led him on, would bring even greater changes to her life than she could imagine.