Chapter 28: Prague

Prague

22 November 2003

04:15

Lara Croft

After a long day's drive, Lara finally arrived in Prague under the cover of night. Glancing at her watch, she noted it was well past midnight. Navigating through the labyrinthine streets, she found a secluded alley to park her car, ensuring it would remain unseen. Exhausted, she decided to sleep in the car, her body tense and her mind alert to any sounds. Just after 4 AM, the biting cold and the sound of another car pulling up nearby woke her. Shivering, she emerged into the frigid, snowy night, muttering curses under her breath and cursing herself for not bringing a warmer jacket. As she walked through the snow-covered streets, she mumbled, "Another cold, dark city. Great!" her breath visible in the freezing air.

In the heart of the city, she spotted a reddish car parked conspicuously, with a man standing beside it, his gaze fixed on a building cordoned off with police tape. Lara's pulse quickened as she recognized the building—it was Vasiley's place. Steeling herself, she approached the man by the car, her steps crunching in the snow.

"What do you know about that building over there?" she asked, her voice steady but firm.

"Eh... what?" the man replied, startled, turning to face her. His eyes widened slightly at her direct approach.

"The one you're watching. With police tape all around it." Lara's eyes bore into his, demanding an answer.

"The Vasiley place? It's a murder scene. I'm a reporter," he replied, his posture slightly defensive as he crossed his arms against the cold.

"So what happened in there?" Lara pressed, her curiosity mixed with urgency.

"Another Monstrum killing. You're not from around here," the man observed, eyeing her up and down.

"No. I need information—which I'd be willing to pay for," Lara offered, her tone unwavering as she reached into her pocket, subtly flashing some cash.

"It'll cost you," he said, his eyes lighting up with interest.

"I gather Vasiley was some kind of an art dealer."

"More than that. He was involved with the Mafia," the reporter said, leaning in slightly, his voice lowering conspiratorially.

"Mafia? What makes you think so?" Lara's eyebrows raised, feigning surprise.

"Lady, I know so. I've been investigating Vasiley's activities for some time," he said with a touch of pride, his chest puffing out slightly.

"Tell me why he was murdered then."

"Vasiley found something they wanted and got snuffed because he tried to hang on to it. They set the Monstrum on him," the man explained, his eyes darting around nervously.

"You say he found something. Do you know what it was? A painting, perhaps?" Lara probed, her tone casual but insistent.

"I don't know about that. But he was definitely silenced. The Mafia cleaned up all the evidence. Took it to the Strahov," he replied, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"Now you're going to tell me what the Strahov is, aren't you?" Lara's voice took on a harder edge.

"No. Your credit just ran out," he said, stepping back slightly, his eyes narrowing.

"Keep talking till the money runs out," Lara urged, holding the cash up temptingly.

"It's not that. This is dangerous stuff I'm telling you. I shouldn't be shooting off my mouth," the man said, glancing around again, clearly anxious.

"You're a big boy. You can handle it. Tell me your name."

"Luddick. My name's Luddick," he said, meeting her gaze once more.

"Okay, Luddick, what else?"

"The Strahov is the Mafia's center of operations in Prague. There's been a lot of activity there recently," Luddick explained, his voice a mix of fear and excitement.

"You're well informed," Lara noted, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"I'm a professional! It's my business! I've got dossiers on all the main players. It'll cost you," he said, his voice regaining some confidence.

"Okay, I'm in," Lara agreed, nodding.

Luddick pulled out a folder, showing Lara some photographs, including images of Louis Bouchard and several members of the Cabal.

"You call these dossiers! Yeuch! Do you know who that is?" Lara pointed to a photo, her lip curling in disgust.

"No. He arrived yesterday," Luddick replied, leaning in to look at the photo.

"That's Bouchard. He's a Parisian gang boss. I ran into him over a personal matter," Lara explained, her eyes narrowing as she remembered the encounter.

"Really! Is he the Paris Mafia then?" Luddick asked, his eyebrows raising in surprise.

"No idea. Who's that?" Lara asked, pointing to a photo of the man who had bumped into her in Rennes' pawn shop, the same man she suspected of killing Werner.

"That's Eckhardt. He's the Mafia's top guy from what I can find out, but I know less about him than the others. They're all gathered in the Strahov at the moment," Luddick said, his voice lowering again.

"Eckhardt, the client," Lara thought to herself, her jaw tightening.

"All of them?" she asked aloud.

"All six major players. Eckhardt and the other five," Luddick confirmed.

"Luddick, I have to get in there. Today. How would you manage it?" Lara asked, her voice steely with determination.

"It's not easy. The place is heavily guarded. Security gates, cameras, ID scanners," Luddick explained, shaking his head slightly.

"But..." Lara prompted, sensing he had more to say.

"But I could get an access code. I have contacts. It'll take me half an hour," Luddick said, nodding.

"Okay, while you're on your errand, I'm going to start with Vasiley's," Lara said, her voice firm as she made her decision.

"Be careful in there. And don't keep me waiting. It's not healthy to hang about on the streets. Especially in weather like this," Luddick warned, his eyes showing genuine concern.

"Stay warm," Lara replied, heading towards the building, her breath visible in the freezing air, her mind racing with the information she had just gathered.

Prague

22 November 2003

04:35

Kurtis Trent

Kurtis arrived in Prague under a cloak of darkness, his mission clear in his mind: find Steph and Zak. The city was eerily silent, save for the soft crunch of snow underfoot and the distant hum of city life. As he neared the ominous Strahov building, he parked his bike discreetly around the corner, his senses on high alert. The cold air bit at his skin, and he scanned the area, his breath visible in the night air. Reaching for his gun, the familiar weight provided a sense of security, grounding him.

Suddenly, he spun around, ready to face any threat, only to see Zak closing in on him, his face etched with urgency and relief.

"Kurtis," Zak said, his voice a mix of relief and tension.

"Zak, why don't you answer your phone?" Kurtis demanded, his eyes narrowing in concern.

"We got ambushed," Zak explained, panting slightly from exertion. "Lost my phone, and I lost Steph. They took her in there."

Kurtis felt his heart pound in his chest, fear and determination warring within him. He had already lost his brother; the thought of losing his best friend was unbearable. His grip tightened on his gun as he looked at Zak, determination hardening his features.

"We're getting her back," Kurtis said, his voice resolute. Zak placed a reassuring hand on Kurtis's shoulder.

"We won't lose her," Zak said, knowing how much Steph meant to Kurtis and also understanding the deep bond they shared. He also knew how much Steph had missed Kurtis when he had rebelled all those years ago.

Zak nodded, his eyes reflecting the same resolve. "What's the plan?" he asked, glancing towards the Strahov with a mixture of fear and hope.

Kurtis looked at the imposing structure, his mind racing through the possibilities. "First, we need to find a way in without alerting their security. Then, we locate Steph, get her out, and take down the Cabal once and for all."

Zak nodded again, his expression determined. "Let's do this."

Together, they moved towards the Strahov, their steps careful and measured. Kurtis led the way, his eyes scanning for any signs of danger. The snow continued to fall, muffling their movements and adding an eerie silence to the already tense atmosphere.

As they approached the building, Kurtis signaled for Zak to follow him closely. They hugged the shadows, using the darkness to their advantage. The cold air was sharp and biting, but neither of them paid it any mind. Their focus was entirely on the mission at hand.

They reached a side entrance, and Kurtis motioned for Zak to stay back as he inspected the lock. It was a standard security lock, but Kurtis had dealt with worse. He quickly picked the lock, the familiar task calming his nerves slightly. With a soft click, the door opened, and they slipped inside, closing it quietly behind them.

The interior was dimly lit, with the occasional flickering light casting eerie shadows on the walls. They moved silently through the corridors, their senses heightened. Every creak and distant sound set them on edge, but they pressed forward, determined to find Steph.

Zak's eyes darted around, scanning for any signs of movement. Kurtis led the way, his gun at the ready. They reached a junction, and Kurtis paused, listening intently. He motioned for Zak to cover him as he crept forward, peering around the corner.

Seeing it was clear, Kurtis signaled for Zak to follow. They continued down the corridor, their footsteps barely making a sound on the cold, hard floor. The tension was palpable, but their resolve was unwavering.

Finally, they reached a door marked with a symbol they recognized from their previous encounters with the Cabal. Kurtis took a deep breath, steeling himself for what lay ahead. He glanced at Zak, who nodded, ready for whatever they might face.

Kurtis pushed the door open, and they stepped into the room, guns drawn, ready to confront any threat. The room was empty, but they could hear muffled voices from a nearby corridor. They exchanged a determined look and moved towards the sound, ready to rescue Steph and end the Cabal's reign of terror once and for all.

Vasiley's Place

22 November 2003

05:00

Lara Croft

Facing Vasiley's building, Lara headed down the alley to its right. The shadows enveloped her, the cold seeping into her bones. She tensed at the sight of two policemen and a dog patrolling the alley. With swift, calculated movements, she dispatched the guards, the sounds of their struggles muffled by the snow. The dog whined briefly before falling silent. Lara's breath came in quiet puffs as she continued behind the building to another trapdoor. Using her claw hammer, she forced it open and dropped into the darkness below.

The tunnel was damp and cold, the air thick with the scent of mildew. She followed it to a water-filled trench, her footsteps echoing softly. Turning right, she moved toward a rubble-strewn hole in the wall. Squeezing through, she found herself in Vasiley's basement. She ascended a short flight of stairs, noting the red door on the right was locked. Moving through the open doorway on the left, she climbed another set of stairs, her senses on high alert.

Lara moved stealthily down the hall, her footsteps barely audible. She heard muffled sounds from one of the rooms and peered in to see Bouchard, his back turned as he busied himself with papers on the desk. Moving like a shadow, she approached him and, with a swift strike of her gun's butt, knocked him out. He slumped over the desk, unconscious. Working quickly, she tied him to a chair and waited for him to wake up.

When Bouchard's eyes fluttered open, confusion quickly turned to anger. "I want some answers, Bouchard. Why did you want me dead in Paris?" Lara's voice was cold and steady, her gaze unyielding.

"You were just a side issue. A loose end that needed tidying up," Bouchard replied, his voice a mix of bitterness and resignation.

"Who ordered it?"

"A madman called Eckhardt. He was putting pressure on all my operations, threatening my family, killing my men. You saw one of them at the church."

"A psycho, huh?"

"The worst. Eckhardt is the Monstrum," Bouchard said, a shiver running down his spine.

"Is that right! What exactly were you doing for him?"

"I had to take delivery of a painting that was in the Louvre and bring it to the Strahov here in Prague."

"My painting! That wasn't easy to get out of the Louvre, Bouchard."

"Seems everyone's a loser," Bouchard muttered, his eyes darting nervously.

"So why Prague?"

"Eckhardt is protected by a group based in Prague called the Cabal. They're almost as dangerous as Eckhardt and at least as insane."

"The Cabal? Not the Mafia?"

"The Cabal uses the Mafia front to distract attention from their real activities. But they're far more dangerous and powerful."

"Dangerous enough to use the Mafia as a front?"

"Anyone too inquisitive about Cabal business simply disappears."

"Like my friend Von Croy. What was his involvement in all this?"

"He was hired to locate all of the five Obscura Paintings and found out there was one in the Louvre. But he found out too much. He contacted Vasiley here in Prague, and they exchanged information."

"I found Vasiley's faxes and four Obscura Engravings he sent to Von Croy."

"Vasiley originally had five engravings but kept one back," Bouchard explained, his voice trembling slightly.

"Why are the engravings important?" Lara asked, though she already knew.

"Each engraving contains an encoded map of a particular painting's location."

"So one of those engravings told Von Croy where the Louvre painting was."

"Yes, but your friend got careless. The faxes were intercepted by the Cabal. And then Eckhardt didn't need Von Croy. He was another loose end, to be tidied up like Vasiley."

"Killed, not tidied up! Why does Eckhardt desecrate the bodies like that, Bouchard?"

"I don't know the details, but it's something to do with reviving The Cubiculum Nephili."

"The Cubiculum Nephili—the Sleeper, last of the extinct Nephilim race."

"You've heard of the Sleeper! Eckhardt is insane. He thinks he can use the Sleeper to breed the extinct Nephilim back into existence."

"There's no faulting his ambition, is there? So this fifth engraving that Vasiley kept back is the key to the last Obscura painting. I'm going to take a look around."

"It'll be well hidden. Vasiley was very cautious."

"Not cautious enough."

"The map in the last engraving shows a location called the Vault of Trophies. The Vault was one of the last Lux Veritatis secret strongholds, and Eckhardt's been desperate to get into it."

"A Lux Veritatis Vault!" Lara's eyes widened slightly. "Do you know where the Vault is located?"

"Only that it's beneath the Strahov somewhere."

"And the painting is definitely there?"

"Eckhardt thinks so. It's one of the reasons the Cabal built their stronghold there."

"I'm going to take a look around."

"Are you going to leave me like this?" Bouchard's voice wavered, a hint of desperation creeping in.

"Yes. Take a break. You've been running around a lot. I'll be back with the fifth engraving." With a tone that brooked no argument, Lara turned and vanished into the shadows, leaving Bouchard tied up and fuming.

Lara slipped through the squeaking wooden door into Vasiley's apartment, her senses heightened. The main room unfolded in front of her, organized chaos reigning amidst the clutter. Long shadows were cast by the gentle lamp light, accentuating the space's lavish, ornate decorations. Her gaze swiftly moved to the spiral staircase leading to the loft, where the polished steps emitted a soft glow. With determined strides and a racing heart, she ascended the staircase, taking the steps two at a time, propelled by a sense of urgency.

At the top, Lara navigated around the walkway, her movements quick and purposeful. She approached a small chest of drawers against the wall, its wood adorned with intricate carvings. With a determined grip, she heaved the chest, its groans of protest resonating through the room. The drawers shifted reluctantly, revealing their hidden secrets.

She then scaled the scaffolding that lined the upper room, her breath coming in measured puffs as she reached the top. Her eyes locked on the window across the way, a calculated leap brought her to the opposite scaffolding. She landed with a muted thud, her heart racing with adrenaline. Reaching for the first chain, she pulled it twice, the mechanism protesting with a low groan. The rose window tilted outward, offering a glimpse of what lay beyond.

Without hesitation, Lara leaped back to the scaffolding and yanked on the second chain four times. The first two pulls closed the window, and the third and fourth tilted it inward. As the grandfather clock downstairs began to chime, Lara's gaze fixed on the floor below. The clock's face slowly opened, revealing a complex design etched into the wooden surface. The design prominently featured the number three o'clock, glowing softly in the dim light.

With agile grace, Lara descended from the scaffolding, landing lightly on the walkway below. She retraced her steps, her movements smooth and deliberate. Approaching the grandfather clock, she examined its face closely. With deft movements, she adjusted the clock hands to the three o'clock position using the direction keys. The floor beneath her shifted with a low rumble, revealing a hidden staircase leading down.

"Now I'm getting somewhere," Lara murmured to herself, her voice laced with a mix of relief and determination.

Descending the staircase, Lara entered a concealed room in the basement. The room was lined with display cases, each containing a trove of artifacts and documents. Her gaze was drawn to three cases in particular, each holding tantalizing clues.

Her eyes lingered on the first case. "The Periapt Shards," she read aloud, her fingers tracing the glass. The shards, described as three crystalline spear-shaped weapons of light, intrigued her. She retrieved the shard she had picked up at the Louvre, comparing it with the ones in the case. They were unmistakably similar. "That means he has the other two," she whispered, thinking of her mysterious stalker.

Moving to the next case, she read the inscription in Latin: "Thes Periapti Coniuncti Cum Iustitiae Igne Mala Cingunt." Lara's brow furrowed as she translated silently, "The three Periapt joined together burn with righteous light to confine evil." She made a mental note, her mind already racing ahead.

The final case held her attention. "The Sleeper or Cubiculum Nephili," she read, the words striking a chord. "A stone cask reputed to contain the last remains of the extinct Nephilim race, buried somewhere in Turkey." The implications were staggering.

A scrap of paper lying near the desk caught her eye—Vasiley's full fax. She picked it up, her fingers deftly scanning for hidden details. A secret code revealed itself, and with a determined expression, Lara approached the keypad behind the desk. She entered the code with precision. The hidden compartment slid open, revealing the Last Obscura Engraving. Lara's face softened with a rare smile of accomplishment as she pocketed the engraving.

Returning upstairs, she stepped out of the door near the desk, only to find Bouchard had vanished. Her expression hardened as she drew her gun and methodically checked each door along the hallway. When she opened the closet, Bouchard's body tumbled out, his final resting place revealed. Lara's eyes narrowed with resolve as she searched near his body and found the Cellar Key.

Clutching the key, she made her way back to the cellar, the red door standing before her like a sentinel. She inserted the key, the door creaking open to reveal the alley behind Vasiley's building. Stepping into the chilly early morning air, Lara prepared herself for the next phase of her mission, the weight of her discoveries heavy on her shoulders.