Бек. Угу...

The Boaz Connection
By Kramer
Prologue
Kristina Boaz had been part of the evil sect Cabal. An organisation led by Pieter van Eckhardt, a madman and alchemist who believed he could revive the ‘Nephilim race.’ Together with the scientists Grand Muller and Kristina Boaz he had tried to do this but he got stopped by two people.
Adventurer Lara Croft had killed Pieter van Eckhardt and destroyed the ‘sleeper’ the first specimen of Nephilim. During her search for Eckhardt she had met Kurtis Trent, the last living member of the Lux Veritatis. They decided to work together to defeat the Cabal. While Lara took care of Eckhardt, Kurtis got in a fight with Kristina Boaz. She already had been made victim of her own work and deformed horrifically. It was her own leader Eckhardt who believed she was not loyal.
Kurtis killed her but got wounded badly and sprayed with a pesticide like liquid.
With the last strength she had in her weakened body she had raised up once again and managed to stab her skewer into Kurtis’ back. She saw how he collapsed to the ground.
The same moment she heard a rustling sound and in the last seconds of her life she saw how a blade flew into her. A sharp pain in her neck and then the world went black and quiet. Like someone switched the television off in the middle of a program.
Kristina had no family or friends. In fact, everyone who would hear about her death would probably release a sigh of relief, the monster is dead. Because even before she turned into a hideous deformed creature, the word ‘monster’ did suit her perfectly.
Kurtis meanwhile grunted as he slowly lost his consciousness. He felt the terrible pain of his chest wound and his skin felt itchy because of the green grossness she had sprayed on him.
I
Moscow, Two Years Later
A thick blanket of snow covered the streets of the Russian capital as a black Mercedes made its way through the darkness. The snow was shining bright in the front lights of the car; the streets were not very crowded, not with this weather, not at this time of the day.
It was half past ten in the evening and people stayed in their houses to keep away from the freezing temperature. Some cafes showed some activities and homeless people gathered around iron barrels which they had set on fire.
The car continued its way until it reached a big building. Most of the windows looked dark but in the lobby and at the top floor there were some lights on.
The door swung open and a man in a long black coat got out. He took the low steps leading to the main entrance. A bouncer asked for his papers but when he saw his face he immediately opened the door.
The man took his ushanka from his head and shook some snowflakes out of his long brown hair. Another man walked to him and offered to take his hat and coat. “Welcome to our hotel, the conference room is on the top floor. The elevator is over there.”
When he arrived at the top floor he saw how one of the doors was opened and everyone was already inside, waiting for him.
He rubbed his neck with a painful looking face and entered the conference room. All the people stood up and nodded politely.
One man who was sitting at the front row came to him and shook his hand. “Glad you are here. And don’t worry. You’re only five minutes late.”
The man nodded and made his way to the desk at the front of the room. He checked the overhead projector and then cleared his throat to make sure everyone had his attention.
It became quiet in the room. His azure eyes stared into the group of people for a second before he began to talk.
“For those who perhaps haven’t heard of me, my name is Kurtis Trent. I considered myself the last living member of the Lux Veritatis. Recent research proved that this was a mistake. There are more people in this world whose forefathers were part of this secret organisation. And I’m proud to take a leading role in the project to get them together and work together to make this world a little less evil.”
He switched on the overhead projector and the screen showed a map of Europe. Kurtis pointed at the right corner of the sheet. “In the year 1119 the order of the Knights Templar was established in Jerusalem. They were in direct command of the Pope, their main target was to protect the pilgrims of the Holy Land. In 1291 they moved to Cyprus and the cult began to fall apart. One group of people who decided to leave the order formed an offshoot called the Lux Veritatis, Light of Truth. The Lux was an independent organisation and their main target did not focus on the Christian believe itself but on suppressing activities of alchemy and sorcery.”
He remained silent for a few seconds and looked around before he continued. “Since the twelve hundreds the Lux Veritatis was in a constant battle with the Cabal. The Cabal is a dangerous, evil group formed around the person of Pieter van Eckhardt. This black alchemist created five so-called Obscura Paintings, which were…. Yes, what’s it?”
One man in the front row had raised his arm. “Mr. Trent, we do appreciate you want to provide us with all this background information. But I think it’s better if you inform us about our plans for the present day.”
Kurtis was a little surprised by this, but could understand what the man said. “Yes, I got you. Well, as most of you know, Eckhardt managed to get these paintings together in 2003. He tried using them to revive The Sleeper but thanks to me he failed. However, the world will never be completely free of evil, and therefore I decided to investigate the possibilities of making the Lux Veritatis a big and more influential organisation again.”
He placed another picture at the projector. The screen showed again a map of Europe but this time the cities of Moscow and Paris were coloured red and were joined together with a red line.
Kurtis cleared his throat. “I started my search in Russia because my father was born here. I managed to find a small group of people whose parents or grandparents were part of the Lux.”
He smiled. “That group of people I’m talking to at this moment.” The men in the room smiled too and nodded politely to each other.
“Our mission is to create cells across whole Europe and establish a network of informants. At this moment we have two, one in Paris and one here, in Moscow. Plus, across the world we have some free agents.”
II
Patagonia, Argentina
At this time of the day the heat was almost unbearable. Ivan Aros, bartender of a café in a little town somewhere near the Rio Chubut was wiping the sweat from his forehead with the teacloth on his shoulder.
Patagonia was a lonely area, only one percent of the entire Argentinean population lived here. Most of them were sheep farmers. Others tried to earn a living out of tourists, lots of backpackers came here to explore the mountains and plains.
It was not very crowded today. The only customer sat at the far end of the room, near the window, and was almost completely covered in the shadow from the blinds.
He took the teacloth he had just been wiping his head with and held it under the tap for two seconds. Then he started to clean the wooden tables one by one, at the end he reached the table were the customer sat.
A young lady was leaning with her back against the wall, balancing on two chair-legs. In the table in front of her stood the bottle of Corona she had ordered ten minutes ago.
She was wearing army boots, some kaki shorts and a tight camo top. Her long brown hair was tied into a braid and rested at one of her shoulders. Some shades lay at the tip of her nose.
“We’re about to close.” Ivan said. “Siësta.”
The woman nodded. “I go after I finished my drink”, she said in Spanish. But with heavy English accent.
“Are you on holiday here?” Ivan asked interested while he began to empty the ashtrays into a big dustbin.
“No, I’m an archaeologist. I’m looking for caves and temples of your native culture.”
The man looked surprised. “Oh really? I got a lot of old books and maps of this area, made by the first settlers who arrived her. If you come back this evening I can show you some.”
The lady smiled politely. “Maybe, thanks anyway.”

V
Prague
Kurtis got a slap in the face of the sudden coldness when he stepped out of the taxi in the centre of the Czech capital. He paid the driver and although it was only a few hundred metres to the café he had agreed to meet Bex he tucked his hands deep into the pockets and folded the collar of his jacket around his neck. “Why didn’t the Cabal build their damn headquarters on Jamaica”, he muttered and he could see his breath as little puffs of steam in the air.
He checked his notebook for the name of the bar where Boris had arranged their meeting plus a description of Bex. “Short, red haired girl, smokes a lot”, he read from his notes.
A few minutes later he entered the café and tried to look around without being suspicious. Most people where men so it wasn’t difficult to find the right person. At the far end of the room near the window sat a short, red haired girl. She was wearing some jeans and a maroon-red t-shirt with long sleeves. Her messy red hair was covering her ears and curled up at the end, she had laid her feet at another chair and was staring into a glass of Scotch in front of her. A cigarette balanced between her index and middle finger.
Boris had insisted that they should use a code to make sure nobody would spy on them. Kurtis walked to the table and pointed at the chair she had her feet on. “Is this seat available?”
The young woman looked up and smiled. “Who will take it?” she said.
“The light of truth”, Kurtis replied.
She smiled again and reached out to shake hands. “From the moment you entered I knew you were the right one but old Boris wanted to do it this way.”
Kurtis sat down and smiled too. “Yeah, he never healed from the overdose of paranoia he got at the KGB. Can I get you anything to drink?”
Bex pointed at the glass in front of her. “No thank you. This is my second one, better for both of us not to take a third.”
Kurtis snapped his fingers and a waiter came to their table. “Do you speak English?” he asked. The man shook his head.
“Deutsch vielleicht?” This time the man smiled and nodded.
“Ich möchte gern eine tasse kaffee.”
The man walked away and returned two minutes later with a cup of coffee.
“Right”, said Kurtis while taking a sip of his coffee. “Today we will take a look in the old apartment of Boaz. It is presumably taken over by someone else, but maybe we will find some traces.”
“And what if we don’t?” asked Bex.
Kurtis took a piece of paper from his pocket and spread it out on the table. “Look, we got several places to look. The first one is the apartment. The second one is her house and office in Buenos Aires.”
Bex too the last swig of her whiskey and bent over to watch the photo’s closely. “Who took these pictures?”
Kurtis was a bit unsettled as she was practically touching his face with her nose. “Boris”, he said. “And some other Lux Veritatis informants I don’t know by name.”
The woman snorted and sank back in her chair again. “You don’t know every member personally? Oh, you smell nice, by the way.”
Kurtis put the paper back in his pocket again. “No I don’t know everyone personal, and to be honest I think we should screen some of them since I’m not sure they are fully trustful, especially one of our investors.” He looked at her. “It’s important to keep our relations professional.” Hoping she would catch the double meaning of this according to her comment about his aftershave.
A short while later Kurtis rang the doorbell of the apartment that once was owned by Kristina Boaz. It took while before a male voice came through the intercom.
“Can we come in?” Kurtis asked. “We have to ask you something really important.”
The intercom remained silent for a while. “Okay… you can enter…” said the voice.
They took the elevator upstairs and walked to the right apartment. Before they reached it a young man opened the door and looked suspiciously at them.
“What you want?” he said with a heavy Czech accent.
“A friend of ours lived here and we wondered if she left some belongings behind.”
The man nodded but didn’t seem to feel any more comfortable. “Yeah, when I bought house… all things were still here… owner was gone”
“What did you do with it?” Bex asked.
“Police took some… but did not find… err… how do you say… solution… and said I can have all of it. I sold most of chairs and tables but I have books and err… papers and photos”
Kurtis nodded. “Can we have a look at it? It has a… great emotional value… to us… she was our friend.”
The man let them in and showed them some cardboard boxes he had stuffed with documents and books. Kurtis and Bex began to browse through them. They found some photo albums and a lot of dossiers about the Cabal and Boaz’ activities.
“This is indeed of great value”, Kurtis whispered and grinned. “Maybe it includes a list of medicines and drugs they used in the sanatorium.”
Bex took some under her arm and showed them to the man who was looking a little surprised at them. “Can we take this with us?”
“Sure”, the man said. “But… if you are her friends… do you know where she is? Maybe you should talk to the police.”
“No”, said Bex firmly. “We… already did. And now we must go. Come on honey.”
A minute later she and Kurtis were standing in the elevator.
“Why did you call me honey?” he asked.
“To let him think we are a couple”, she said dryly. “To leave a less suspicious impression.”
Kurtis couldn’t suppress a laugh. “Less suspicious? He will call the police any minute I think. He looked at us if we were a bunch of Mafiosi.”
-
Lara was a bit overwhelmed for a few seconds by the sudden entrance of these tribesmen. They were dressed in traditional clothing of the native people and they were armed with spears and wooden shields. The group of about 40 men quickly made their way to the stairs while yelling a war cry with high pitched voices.
Lara drew her pistols and began to shoot, the front row of the garrison collapsed. While continuing shooting she ran down the stairs. The group scattered and the men looked anxiously for safe spots, some of them threw their spears at Lara but she could easily avoid them. She stopped shooting and waited what the remaining tribesmen would do. When nothing happened she lowered her pistols and began to reload them. Immediately the men stood up and ran the way they came from, through the four archways.
Lara holstered her guns and walked to one of the men she shot. She examined him closely and discovered a little silver amulet on a necklace around his neck. She took it and put it in her pocket. She looked around; all the four archways seemed identically. Lara randomly took one of them and walked carefully under the raised grated door and found herself in a long straight hallway. She followed it down until she reached a dead end. But in the wall in front of her she saw a big wooden lever. She firmly pulled it and waited for something to happen, it remained silent for a while but then a thundering sound made her grab onto the wall to keep her balance. A second later the floor beneath her feet began to shake and some of the tiles gave way, leaving deep dark pitches behind. Lara turned around and began to run the way she came. She carefully zigzagged through the hallway to avoid the holes in the collapsing floor. The thundering noise became louder and more and more pieces of the floor collapsed in front of her eyes. She jumped over a big hole and made her way to the side, hugging the wall. She wouldn’t make it to the end if it kept going like this. She looked up and discovered some loose bricks in the wall; she began to climb and eventually started to traverse sideways. She successfully reached the iron grating when suddenly the whole wall and a bit of ceiling came down. She fell on her back and held her arms around her head to protect her against the bricks falling down. Lara grunted and stood up, brushing some dirt and marl-like dust from her clothes, she walked back into the central hall. She breathed heavily and walked to the bowl of water in the middle of the room and splashed some cold water in her face. “I guess I took the wrong door”, she muttered.
She walked around and carefully watched the four archways; something should tell her where they would lead. A second look told her each archway had a small symbol painted on the wall above it. But she never had seen such symbols before and couldn’t read them.
Lara sat down and retrieved the papers Ivan had given her from her backpack and start browsing through them to see if they would provide her some information. After a few minutes of searching she found a simple sketch of what could be this hall. Underneath the drawing someone had wrote down a quick note containing the four symbols from the archways. One of the symbols was underlined and the owner of the book had written ‘safe route north’ next to it. Lara wrapped the parchment and took her compass, just to make sure; the symbol was indeed painted above the northern archway.
Lara cheerfully putted the parchments and the compass back in her backpack and took the archway which was meant to be the safe route.
She ended up in another long hallway but this time it did not end at a wall with a lever but an enormous door. Lara tried to open it but failed. She took few steps back and kicked it firmly but the door did not move a millimetre. It did not seem to have a lock, only a little round shaped slot in the middle. Suddenly she remembered something; she reached in her pocket and retrieved the little amulet she found at the necklace of the tribesman. It fitted perfectly in the slot and with a crack the door swung open. She now entered an even bigger hallway then the one she came from, with walls reaching hundreds of metres above her. She looked up and realised it wasn’t a hall but a mountain-pass; she could see the blue sky high above her. Lara carefully continued her way in the same direction, admiring the enormous rocky slopes left and right of her. The pass got wider and wider and developed into a valley. Suddenly she recognised windows, doors and steps. It was a pueblo, a village of hundreds of little houses chiselled out in the rocks. The houses and flat spaces consisted of hundreds of plateaus and went uphill like a staircase, connected with wooden ladders. Between the pathway she was walking on, and the first houses, she saw green fields with all kinds of vegetation and a lot of crops like rice, vegetables and corn. She kept walking until she reached something that could be the town square or whatever you would call that in this kind of place. People came from their houses and looked surprised at her. Lara tried talking in Spanish to them but they shook their heads and smiled politely. Finally some of them began to talk to each other, in a language Lara never heard of. They pointed at her and nodded to each other. Then a young child ran away and climbed one of the wooden ladders leading to a big building in front of her. Five minutes later he came back with a woman dressed in the same clothes as the guards Lara had encountered in the hall, including a mask.
The woman held up her left hand with her palm turned to her face and Lara decided to do the same, assuming this was a way of saying hello.
The woman smiled and lowered her arm. “Welcome in our village stranger”, she said in Spanish. “How did you find us and what brings you here?”
Lara pointed to the direction she came from. “I came from your underground temple and…”
The woman interrupted her. “How did you get in there and how did you open the door to our village, the lost city of Matorana Civella?”
Lara showed the silver amulet she got from the tribesman and which she used to open the door. The woman took a few steps back and then made a short bow. “You found the secret entrance… you survived the traps and defeated our guards. I must have much respect for you, stranger. But tell me, what are you looking for here?”
Lara held up three fingers. “Three cups of gold, they are supposed to be in your temple. But I did not find them.”
The woman nodded. “Let me invite you to come to my house, I will tell you everything about it. My name is Meila and I’m the leader of this little tribe.”
Lara nodded politely. “Lara Croft, adventurer. I’m pleased to see your people decided to put a woman in charge.”

IIX
House of the Death
The taxi took a sharp turn and drove into a shaded lane. From the car Lara could only see the gates and hedges blocking her view into the front gardens of the houses.
The car slowed down. “What number was it again?” asked the driver.
Lara took the little notebook and checked. “254.”
The man looked at her in the back mirror. “Are you sure? Are you one of those?”
Lara frowned and slowly shook her head. “What’s that suppose to mean?”
The man grinned and drummed at the dashboard with two fingers “Oh, come on. Don’t try to hide it; you’re one of those freaks looking for spirits and shadows. Ever since the owner of that house at 254 disappeared, I think it was two years ago, you hear this stories of ghosts. They say the woman was a mad scientist. Police cleared out the whole house but couldn’t find anything. It’s empty now and available for sale but nobody wants to move in because of these stories. ”
Lara remained silent for a few seconds. “No, never heard of that. I think I got the wrong number, it’s 252.”
The man nodded. “That sounds more likely to me. Are you visiting a friend?”
“…Yes.”
“You won’t find any at 254, I can assure you.”
After two minutes the car stopped in front of a big iron gate guarding a big villa. The digits 252 were printed on a small sign next to the letterbox. Lara got out, paid the driver and waited for the car to disappear. Then she walked to the next house and found herself in front of another impressing looking gate. Through the grating she recognised a driveway leading to a house.
One of the big trees flanking the lane offered an easy way to get to the other side. She jumped up and grabbed a branch reaching over the fence. She carefully traversed to the right and tucked her legs up to avoid the nasty spikes at top of the fence. When Lara reached far enough she let go and landed softly on the sandy pathway. She followed the gravel driveway up to the house and walked round it to look for a way in. It was remarkably quiet here, some bright sunlight peaked through the shady woods and she could only hear some pigeons and traffic in the distance.
The windows and doors of the house were sealed with planks and it seemed she would need some force to get them removed. Maybe there was an easier way to get in.
Lara walked to the back of the house and looked out over a huge backyard. The grass at the lawn hadn’t been mowed for ages and reached almost knee high. Her footsteps echoed loud at some grey tiles when she checked the backdoor, but it was locked. She looked up and saw some old police tape was strapped around the cast iron balcony. Lara took a few steps back to get a better view of the balcony and spotted that the door leading to the rooms upstairs wasn’t sealed.
The balcony was too high to reach from here and she began to look for something to use as a ladder. Next to the garage she found an empty iron barrel, Lara shove it next to the balcony and climbed up. Now she was standing high enough to grab the gutter, traverse around the corner and pulled up at the balcony. An instinctive feeling made her grab a gun before she carefully opened the door leading inside. With a squeaky sound the wooden door swung open and she entered a dark and empty room. The opened door provided just enough light to find her way. The wooden floor creaked under her feet as Lara walked around to examine the room. But apart from a wooden cupboard and an old black and white photo in a broken frame there wasn’t anything that could help her. She took a quick look in the cupboard but it was empty.
While she opened the door to the next room she kept thinking about the name of the person who lived here, Boaz. She was sure she had heard that name before but it was a long time ago and she couldn’t remember when or where it was.
Lara found herself at the top floor landing. Four other doors prevented her from seeing what was in the other rooms, some steep wooden stairs, covered with a red carpet lead her downstairs. She holstered her gun and took a flashlight from her backpack to get a better view around. She was standing at big Persian rug, the walls were covered with a thick seam of dust and cobwebs. Frames on the wall showed photos in sepia of serious looking people.
Lara decided to take a look in every room. The first one was exactly the same as the one she came from but the second door gave her entrance to the bathroom. A stale, musty smell filled her nose as she took a quick look around. A mouse dribbled on a shelf in front of a broken mirror, the bath was half full of brownish water. She walked back to the landing when she suddenly spotted something shiny on the floor; she bent over and picked up a nailfile.
When the third room also turned out to be completely empty she made her way downstairs and wandered around in the spacey living room, kitchen and dining room.
Apart from some old tables and chairs covered in sheets the rooms were empty. She heard mice running around and in one of the kitchen cabinets she found a dead barn owl.
Just when she began to think there was absolutely nothing to find she discovered a small desk in the corner of the room. It seemed made out of heavy pinewood and contained three drawers. Lara tried to open them but without success. An idea popped up in her mind and she walked back upstairs to get the nailfile she had found earlier.
It worked, with a metallic click she could lift the little lever and opened the first drawer. She took out some old yellowish papers with mouldy stains. Beneath the papers she found a small key with a label saying ‘lab’.
She put it in her pocket and opened the next drawer, empty. The third one contained more old mouldered papers with notes in neat handwriting. The text didn’t seem very important; she wanted to put it back when a little photo dropped out of the pile. She brushed off the dust and held it in front of her flashlight. Lara’s breath caught when she recognised the man at the picture, Pieter van Eckhardt.
Her memories went back, two years ago, Prague. She remembered his cackling voice. “Gunderson, release Boaz…”
-
Kurtis opened one of the many pockets in his combat trousers and retrieved his sunglasses. He put them on his nose and reached in another pocket to get a cigarette. He looked out over the busy street next to Ezeiza airport waiting for a red hummer to stop. Boris had told them their contact Pablo would pick them up in a red hummer as soon as they landed. But he had not arrived yet.
Kurtis lit his cigarette and stared at Bex who was standing a metre away from him. She couldn’t see where he was looking and her blue eyes unknowingly met his. “Eyes full of bitterness”, thought Kurtis silently to himself.
After five more minutes they finally spotted a hummer driving their way. The car was covered with a seam of dirt but it couldn’t hide it had been red a long time ago.
Kurtis raised his hand and the vehicle stopped in front of them. A man, somewhat in his late twenties, got out and shook their hands with a broad smile. He had a tanned skin, short black hair and long stylish sideburns. He was wearing a red bandana and some sunglasses dangled casually at the collar of his white t-shirt.
“Nice to meet you two, my name is Pablo Sanchez and I’m the only member of the Lux Veritatis from Argentina.” Kurtis nodded politely.
“My granddad lived in Mexico”, continued Pablo with a heavy Spanish accent. “And he came in contact with some Irish immigrants from The States. Well, it’s a complicated story, but I’m so glad to see the organisation flourish again. I hope we can set up a third cell here or maybe in Rosario, that’s the city where I was born.”
While telling all this he had helped Kurtis to put his bag in the back of the car and now they all had taken a seat and were ready drive off. The man kept on talking, rarely allowing Kurtis and Bex to squeeze in an answer or comment.
When he finally remained silent Kurtis grabbed the opportunity to ask what was on the programme. Pablo enthusiastically patted Kurtis knee. “I have it all figured out boss, don’t worry. I found a nice hotel for us, in the city centre. And inside the dashboard cabin I got a detailed map of the area with the quickest route to the house we are looking for.”
Bex, who was sitting at the backseat opened Kurtis’ bag and took out the cardboard box. “Kurtis, you didn’t check yet what’s inside.”
The American took the box from her and carefully opened it. “I didn’t want to look in it when we were standing inside the airport.” He announced with a grin. “Our contact Boris arranged it for us. I don’t even want to know how.”
The box contained two MP7A1 machine pistols. Pablo whistled between his teeth. “Nice contacts we have in Europe. But what do we need it for? Is he afraid Boaz will show up?”
Kurtis handed the guns to Bex and she put it back in the bag. “I know what you mean, our man Boris likes to show of a bit. It’s always good to have some defence in case we get in trouble with authorities or possible splinter parties of the Cabal. But I have to admit it’s not really necessary to walk around with this kind of gun.”
The three people remained silent for a while when suddenly Kurtis’ phone rang.
“Trent.”
“Hello, Trent. It’s me Igor Smertin.”
“What can I do for you?”
“I have bad news. The thing you called me about, the little company in Russia that transferred my donation onto your bank account, they…”
“Well?”
“It seems you were right, it’s not fully legal. In fact, they have sort of connections with the underworld.”
Kurtis frowned and bit his lip. “That doesn’t very good”, he muttered angrily.
“I know, I know”, said Igor. He sounded nervous. “What do you think Trent? Shall we continue with this or not? It’s up to you.”
“Of course not, say we don’t want to get involved with this.”
“Yeah okay, that seems the best thing to do. I’ll do my best.”
“Make it so!” snarled Kurtis, before switching off the phone.
Pablo steered up the parking lot of a hotel. Kurtis put his phone back in his pocket and felt a terrible headache coming up. He rubbed between his eyes with two fingers. The last thing he heard was Bex asking if he was okay, the next moment the whole world turned black.
He woke up on a bed in a hotel room, Pablo and Bex were standing next to him. “Oh, you are with us again”, said Pablo with a smile. “It seems the poison is getting worse, maybe in combination with the hot weather and your jetlag. Why don’t you stay here and rest for a while?”
Kurtis nodded. “Yeah, I think that’s better. You two go the house and if there is something really important you can call me.”
Suddenly all the memories of the incidents in Prague came back to Lara’s mind. The Cabal and their secret projects, Eckhardt, Karel and Boaz. She remembered seeing Boaz, just before she had left Kurtis behind to fight her. The papers showed some letters she had sent to Eckhardt. Most of them had a very flattering nature; she seemed to admire Eckhardt like he was some kind of guru.
Lara stood up from the desk and walked around the room one more time to look were the key could fit she had found in one of the drawers. But she couldn’t find any locked doors, the whole room was empty besides some old tables and chairs and an old dusty rug.
Lara walked back to the stairs to see if she missed something upstairs. But she tripped over the rug and had to hold onto a table to keep her balance. One side of the rug curled up and revealed an iron bolt.
Lara crouched down to examine it closely when she suddenly heard the sound of a door cracking open. She grabbed her gun and walked to the hallway. The front door was opened and she looked into the grey blue eyes of a young woman, her messy red hair was shining in the bright sunlight.
“Drop your weapon said Lara calmly.”
But before the woman could answer there was a loud noise from the room and a moment later a man in a white t-shirt entered the hallway carrying a gun. Lara realised she was chanceless, and now it was her who had to drop her weapon.
A minute later she was sitting at a wooden chair with her hands and ankles cuffed. The man and woman were standing to the left and right of her.
“Who are you?” asked the guy.
“Not of your business”, hissed Lara.
The woman fired the next question “Do you work for the Cabal?”
“No…” said Lara and she frowned. “Don’t you?”
“What do you know about them?”
“I got involved with them two years ago in Prague.”
Pablo looked at Bex. “It seems she speaks the truth”, he said. But Bex didn’t look very convinced. “What took place there?”
“I crossed paths with Pieter van Eckhardt… and… I killed him.”
Pablo pointed his gun between her eyes. “That’s a lie. Kurtis Trent killed Eckhardt and destroyed the sleeper. He told us that, hundredths of times.”
Lara’s eyes turned bigger. “Do you know Kurtis Trent? He knows me; he will tell you I am not Cabal. I’m at your side.”
Pablo shook his head. “Nonsense, you’re one of those and you’ll need to be cleaned up.”
Bex suddenly grabbed his arm. “Wait a minute… I know her face… Kurtis has a picture of her in his wallet. And he told me that he met a woman in Prague, maybe she is right.”
“I doubt it”, said Pablo. “We should kill her.”
Lara knew she had to convince the guy to save her life. “Are you Lux Veritatis?” she asked.
“Here”, said Bex. “She even knows us. Let’s go back and take Kurtis here and he will tell us if she tells the truth or not. You get him, I guard the front door.”
Pablo holstered his gun. “Okay.”
They tore one of the sheets and strapped it around Lara’s mouth. After that they left the house.
IX
Lara and Kurtis
Lara heard how both people left the house. “I stay here and guard the door”, said the woman. The man said something she couldn’t hear and a second later she heard a car driving off. Apparently they were serious about getting Kurtis.
The time she had to wait gave her the opportunity to order her mind according to the events of the last ten minutes. The house she was sitting in belonged to Kristina Boaz, the female Cabal member she and Kurtis had met in Prague. The notebook Lara got from the woman in the pueblo probably belonged to her mother.
The two people who caught her inside the house and did tie her to the chair were members of the Lux Veritatis, the religious cult Kurtis was part of. Lara had still no clue how they ended up here. And it seemed Kurtis had told his colleagues that he was responsible for destroying Eckhardt and the sleeper. That, she now realised, had almost cost her life. Because they didn’t believe her when she told she had met Kurtis in Prague. And now she was sitting here, tied to a chair in an empty house somewhere in Argentina. It was not as dark anymore inside the living room as some of the planks sealing the windows were removed. She had waited for about twenty minutes when she heard the grinding noise of a car driving up the gravel in front of the house. She heard voices outside and a moment later footsteps in the hallway, the door swung open and she looked into the azure eyes of Kurtis Trent.
“Lara Croft”, he said slowly as if he tasted every syllable like expensive wine. His lips curled up in a smile and he wiped a strand of brown hair behind his ear.
“What is it that we always have to meet under such unusual circumstances?” he came closer and took a little knife from his pocket. Lara couldn’t answer since the piece of white sheet was still strapped around her mouth.
“Let me help you to get out of this uncomfortable chair”, Kurtis continued amused and cut the ropes that were keeping her ankles together. Lara stretched her legs with a painful face and looked angrily at Kurtis who had turned his attention to her gag and only last took care of the sheets around her hands. That moment Lara flew up from the chair and gave him a firm smack on his jaw. He stumbled and fell backwards to the ground; he slowly tried to get on his feet again while rubbing his jaw but Lara grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him up. “Are you out of your mind!” she yelled at him. “Your funny stories of Kurtis the superhero nearly got me killed!”
Kurtis was a bit overwhelmed by the situation and didn’t reply immediately. Lara stared at him with furious eyes, her face only inches away from his. She was still holding his collar.
“Hey easy…” the American finally sighed. “I’m sorry about that… I…” he coughed. “I recently started to get people together to form a new Lux Veritatis. I had to tell them about the incidents in Prague but didn’t want to include you. People would probably contact you or come round your house. Plus we still are not sure the Cabal is completely wiped out, they could’ve tracked you down. I wanted to safe you from all that.”
The anger in Lara’s eyes eased off somewhat and she released him from her grab. “Well, I guess I need to say thanks for that”, she muttered and nervously brushed the creases from his shirt.
Kurtis gave her a short nod. “Gotta say my version of the story wasn’t worth much, but it was the only thing I could think of.” He walked to the small desk where Lara had found the photo of Eckhardt and picked up two pistols. “These are yours?”
Lara quickly took them from him and put them back in the holsters. “Yes, thanks.” She said without looking at him
He saluted. “Good to see you again, how’re you doing? What brings you here?”
She smiled and looked up, realising they were sort of friends again for the time being. “I’m okay. And I got here because of… Boaz.”
Kurtis raised his eyebrows. “Interesting, me too, what exactly lead you to this house?”
“I was exploring the hills of Patagonia a few days ago, looking for three ancient cups of pure gold. They turned out to be stolen from a hidden temple where I found an old notebook with this address inside.” She remained silent for a second. “And you?”
Kurtis grinned shyly and bit his cheek. “I… err… you remember that green slime Boaz sprayed on me?”
“Yes.”
“It so happens to be very toxic and I’m in search of an antiserum.”
Lara’s mouth dropped open. “Toxic? Did you perhaps found out the name of the poison?”
Kurtis frowned. “I think it was DL46 or something, no LD-48, why?”
“LD, Liquid Devil. That’s the name of the poison that was originally kept in those golden cups!”
They looked at each other with a mixture of surprise and horror. That moment the door creaked open and Pablo poked his head in. “I hope I do not interrupt? Me and Bex were wondering what’s going on.” he said with a smile. “If it’s not too private”, he added.
Lara was sitting at the low steps to the front door, Kurtis stood next to her leaning to the wall. He had just introduced Lara to his colleagues and now he was explaining how they both ended up here. Pablo sat at the bonnet of the car, looking at his dangling legs while listening to Kurtis. Bex stood a few metres away with her arms folded and looked bored.
“So, you never saw each other again after those incidents in Prague and its pure coincidence you crossed paths again?” said Pablo and he laughed loud. “Isn’t that great?”
Lara looked surprised at Pablo’s reaction and Kurtis gave her a short wink saying “don’t pay attention, he’s always like that.”
The Argentinean jumped up from the car and rubbed his hands. “But now I guess we must take a look inside the house again, don’t we all agree?”
Bex frowned. “Wait a minute”, she said. “Maybe Ms. Croft is a friend of Kurtis but she is not a member of our order. How can we let her take part in our mission?”
Kurtis shook his head. “I just told you she helped me two years ago in Prague. I know I can trust her and she will help us. Won’t you Lara?”
Lara stood up from the steps and stared disdainful at Bex for a moment. “I came here to find the golden cups”, she said. “And that’s still my main target. But now I heard about this poison I sure will try to help you out.” She playfully pushed Kurtis’ chin up with two fingers. “You’re a sort of friend after all.”
Bex watched them and produced a cynical grin. “Sort of friend? Kurtis also kept denying you were, or still are, his girlfriend.”
“Don’t you listen? He just told you we haven’t seen each other for two years”, snarled Lara at Bex and she turned around. “Now let’s examine that bloody house.” Bex silenced and turned her face away while muttering something to herself.
Kurtis and Pablo followed Lara inside the house. “Let’s not get angry, shall we?” said Pablo cheerfully while putting his arms at Lara and Kurt’s shoulders. “I know Bex is a pain in the neck” he added under his breath. “But discord in our team is the last thing we need now.”
They walked into the living room together and Lara showed them the bolt she found under the carpet just before Pablo and Bex had caught her. Together they removed the whole rug and discovered another rusty bolt and two hinges to the opposite. They carefully undid the bolts and with a squeaky sound they opened a big wooden trapdoor. A blow of dust spread through the room and it took a few moments before they could check what was beneath the trapdoor.
Kurtis coughed loud and wiped some dust from his face. “Stairs…” he said whilst pointing down. The others joined him and saw some wooden stairs leading down to a hidden cellar. “What did she keep here?” asked Bex. “I have a feeling it won’t be a wine cellar”, said Pablo jolly.
Lara walked down the stairs with the others on her tail. Pablo took a flashlight and examined the door downstairs. It said ‘lab’ and was locked. Lara dug in her pockets and took out the little key she had found in the wooden desk.
“Nice job Croft”, said Kurtis.
They key fitted in the keyhole and a second later she swung the door open. The same moment they all took a step back as a horrific stench hit their noses. Kurtis cursed loudly and covered his face with one hand. Lara did the same and squeezed her eyelids when she carefully took a few steps inside. A terrible rotten smell of death came from the room.
“What the hell is in there?” asked Pablo. “A slaughter house, a morgue or both?”
Lara managed to find a switch at the wall next to the door and a second later some bright strip lighting illuminated the hidden cellar. Four pair of eyes scanned the room and saw a small laboratory. The white tiles at the floor were covered with dirty stains and small pools of brownish water. In the middle of the room they saw a dentist chair with a shapeless carcass on it. Alongside two walls they saw some working benches, desks and filing-cabinets. The tables were covered with piles of papers and sheets, test-tubes, microscopes, surgery instruments and a computer. At the other wall stood three empty beds, the mattresses looked creasy and dirty. The walls were decorated with posters of scientific drawings of the human body and mysterious other mammals. The flickering strip lighting gave the whole place an extra sinister atmosphere.
“Oh my god, oh my god”, whispered Bex. “This is horrible. I need a fag, call me when you need me”, and she ran up the stairs.
“What’s this boss?” asked Pablo.
Kurtis bit his lip and nodded slowly. “I’ve seen this place before. Well, not exactly this place of course. But the room reminds me of the sanatorium in Prague.”
Still with their hands covering their noses the three people began to examine the laboratory. The corpse on the dentist chair was in a late stadium of decomposing and it was hard to tell if it was once human or perhaps another kind of creature. In this condition it certainly was an awful picture and provided a horrific display of Boaz’ activities.
“Lara, the little booklet you found in that hidden temple. You said it belonged to her mother?”
Lara nodded. “Yes, it was owned by an Ulrike Boaz and considering the date it could well be her mother.”
“I’m almost sure she is”, said Kurtis. “Bex and I found an e-mail Muller sent to Kristina in which he mentions the emotional value of the poison for her.” He switched on the computer on the desk but it didn’t work. “She had a sick mind”, he added. “Having emotional feelings for a lethal poison.”
Pablo went through a pile of documents he found on top of the filling-cabinet. “And you said there actually was an antiserum in the temple?”
It was Lara’s turn to nod again. “Yes, but it does only work short after the victim gets infected.”
“That’s why we are here”, muttered Kurtis. “Even sick people like Boaz and her mother should have developed a better antiserum before putting the actual poison into practise.”
Pablo suddenly waved a little notebook in front of Kurtis’ eyes. “I found something. Looks like a diary again, from the hand of Boaz junior this time.”
Kurtis yanked the notebook from Pablo’s hands and scanned the first few entries.
This is the first entry in my new diary and the first one after mother’s funeral. From today I shall fully take over her work and serve the honourable Pieter van Eckhardt.
I already spoke to him in Prague and he is certainly a genius. I’m proud to be part of the Great Work. One of my colleagues is a biology scientist who lives in Rome. I told him about the LD-48 and he was very enthusiastic. If mother was still alive she would be proud to hear her discovery would be used for such an important issue.
“This confirms our theory”, said Kurtis happy “Let’s see if she has anything else about this.”
Next week I will get the keys to my apartment in Prague. Now the moment of truth is getting closer it’s important to be there more often. At the moment I’m working at a unique experiment. If it succeeds we will have a ‘proto-Nephilim’. I’m sure Master Eckhardt will be proud as soon as he finds out what I did.
On my flight I will also take the antiserum of LV-48 with me. It’s safer if Dr. Muller has it in his office on a safe place. It is a better version of the original serum; mother developed it after she got the poison from Patagonia.
“There we got it boss”, announced Pablo cheerfully. “She did actually have an antiserum. And it’s in Muller’s office.”
Kurtis grinned cynically. “Muller is dead and his office was inside the Strahov, which is demolished.”
“What is this?” asked Lara, pointing at a small floppy piece of paper sticking out the diary. Kurtis took it out and gave it to her. “An article from a newspaper”, he said dryly and hauled his shoulders. “It’s in Spanish.”
Lara began to read and with Pablo’s help she could read to Kurtis.
PLANE CRASHES NEAR SECRET MILITARY BASE
A Boeing-737 from Lufthansa on its way from Buenos Aires to Düsseldorf crashed on a small tropical island in the Atlantic Ocean. Not far from Cuba.
The only inhabitants of the island turned out to be American soldiers manning a military base on that very island. They could provide quick emergency service.
Since the presence of the base is top secret there’s still a diplomatic war going on between various embassies across the globe.
The American military authority has claimed some of the luggage that was on board of the airplane saying it contained ‘suspicious’ material. Some of the luggage was kept at the island’s base and never returned to its owner.
An Argentinean woman had been held for questioning but got released after two days.
Kurtis frowned “what’s that suppose to mean?”
“Maybe it was actually…” began Lara but she didn’t complete her sentence. “Give me that book again, will you.”
Pablo handed her the little notebook. “Do you think she was carrying..?”
“Yes, I think she was”, said Lara while looking for the right page. “Yes, you see? The date of that entry matches with the article in the newspaper. The day she said she would take the antiserum to Prague was the day that plane crashed.”
Kurtis slapped his forehead. “Of course, a plane crash. That’s why her face looked so strange; it was burned after that plane crash.”
Lara put both the notebook and the article at the working table. “Seems like you have an island to explore my friend, got any relatives on Cuba?”
“I do know someone there actually”, said Kurtis with a grin. “An old friend of my father lives in Havana.” He paused. “But what will you do Lara? It seems there isn’t any trace to the golden cups.”
Lara hauled her shoulders. “I have a better look in her diary tonight. Maybe she mentions it somewhere. Then I have to think what I will do.”

TriGen
Я СКАЗАЛА: НАПИШИ ТОТ СТАТУС, КОТОРЫЙ ХОЧЕШЬ И Я ЕГО ПОМЕНЯЮ.
Angel_Trent
М-м....Ну все, я теперь в курсе.