Tomb Raider: The Ten Thousand Immortals (25 page)

“Very well,” said the policeman, stepping to one side. “And show some respect, young man. It’s all very well, me finding your mother funny. It’s another, you telling me I ought.”

“Of course, officer,” said Kennard. “Thank you.”

“I’ve lost her,” said the Immortal. “She went over the roof and disappeared.”

“Careless,” said Ares. “Retrace your steps. Lara Croft is clever. She doesn’t take the conventional route. I’m making my way to the chapel.”

The Immortal climbed the stairs of the chapel tower and stepped back out onto the chapel roof walkway. He looked out onto the roof of the north wing of Mob Quad facing the chapel. That was where Lara Croft had disappeared to when he’d last had her in his line of sight. She was not there now. He took a few more steps and glanced at the opposite pitch of the roof beyond the ridgeline. It was empty.

The Immortal began to move along the chapel roof walkway, scanning Mob Quad and the windows and roofs. He saw nothing. He heard nothing. But Ares had told him to retrace his steps. It was a direct order. If it had been an order from Hydarnes, he might have used his initiative, but it had come from Ares. No one failed to follow an order, by the letter, that came from the very top of the organisation.

The Immortal continued his progress along the narrow walkway that connected the chapel tower to the west wing of Mob Quad. When he reached the end, he put both hands on the parapet wall and looked down on the roof that he had walked only a few minutes before. He had a view right across the quad. There was nothing to see.

Lara stepped out of the tiny turret and raised her gun in both hands to coldcock the Immortal in the back of the head. He heard the step behind him, and he was fast. He turned as her hands came down, and the impact hit him in the clavicle as he swerved, cracking his collarbone. To Lara’s disappointment, the man remained conscious.

He grabbed Lara’s wrists and smashed them against the corner of the turret, dislodging the gun from her hands. It fell away, clattering onto the wood plank floor of the walkway.

Lara used her old trick, stamping her heel down hard on his instep, and the Immortal winced, but he kept hold of her hands in both of his. He used the strength of his back and the momentum of turning his body to swing Lara around and throw her against the adjacent roofline. She landed on her cracked rib, and cried out.

Infuriated, Lara brought her head down and bit hard into the back of the Immortal’s wrist, above the short glove that he was wearing. She could taste his skin and his sweat, and feel his hairs on her tongue, but she didn’t care. The Immortal pulled his hand away only when Lara drew blood.

Resting her weight against the pitched roof to put extra strength into the kick, Lara booted the Immortal solidly in the knee, extending the joint too far. She heard the ping and crunch of cartilage and connective tissue.

The Immortal swung a fist at Lara’s gut, but she was hyperconscious of her sore ribs, and she rolled away from the punch that landed against the tiled roof. A tile cracked, and the man shook out his hand, clearly in pain.

The space was narrow, and Lara had missed the opportunity to shoot the Immortal dead. She was at a size and strength disadvantage, and she couldn’t get away from him. She backed up a couple of quick paces, and as he came towards her, she turned sideways and tried a kick to his throat. The kick fell too low. It caught him squarely in the solar plexus, but he was too strong for her. Instead of being winded or falling, he caught her foot and pushed it upwards.

Lara had no choice, but to go down.

She found herself on her back in a space barely wider than she was.

She stayed down.

He’s either got to leave me down here, or get down with me,
she thought.

The Immortal hesitated for a moment before throwing himself on top of her.

Lara was ready. She bent her knees and brought her feet up to meet his hips. Then, she pushed up hard, throwing her feet towards her shoulders, taking his weight up and over her head. The Immortal crashed heavily onto the walkway behind her head.

Lara followed through with the momentum of her body. Thrusting her legs up over her head, and planting her hands behind her shoulders, she rolled on top of the Immortal. A split second later, she was straddling his chest. She pinned his arms with her knees and punched him hard in the face.

The Immortal wasn’t very much bigger than Lara, but he was fit and strong. He was trained for these encounters. He was trained to fight opponents much more skilled than she was.

Lara found herself smashed hard against the pitched roof once more, her ribs taking much of the force of the impact. She coughed air from her lungs and winced with the pain. She lay there for a second or two, expecting more pain.

He can’t kill me,
she thought,
but he can beat
me.

Then, Lara remembered the gun. She had lost it at the beginning of the fight, but, unless it had gone over the parapet, it couldn’t be far away. Lara played on the pain, hugging her ribs. She kept her head down and moaned, exaggerating her discomfort while casting her eyes along the stretch of the walkway that was within range to see if she could locate the firearm.

She finally spotted it, three or four metres away, behind the Immortal, in the far corner of the walkway, tucked up against the turret. Lara had no idea how she’d get to it from where she was.

It’s worth a try,
she thought.
Ares could be here at any
moment.

Lara allowed herself to go limp. She feigned more pain and more exhaustion than she felt. She softened her knees and slid down the roof until she was virtually squatting in the narrow walkway, facing the Immortal. He took a step towards her.

Lara braced herself, and when she judged that he was close enough, she made her move.

Lara put her weight on her front foot and kicked off with her back foot, lunging at the Immortal at waist height. She caught the man full in the gut with her shoulder. She’d hoped to wind him, but instead she hit a brick wall.

Lara had hoped to repeat the trick she’d managed on her back. She’d hoped to throw the Immortal’s body over hers, and then make a dash for the gun.

It didn’t work.

The Immortal dropped a little in his knees and bent over Lara from the waist, but his stomach muscles held firm. She did not penetrate the wall of his body, nor did she knock him off his feet.

“Enough, Miss Croft,” said a voice, behind her.

It was Ares.

“I think you’ve had enough, don’t you?” he asked her.

She’d sat back on her heels, and her head had dropped onto her chest, but Lara had not turned to look at Ares. She didn’t need to. She knew she was beaten.

“Stand up, Miss Croft,” said Ares. “Maintain a little dignity.”

Lara stood slowly, and turned to face Ares. He stepped out of the shadow of the chapel tower door at the far end of the walkway.

The Immortal, standing behind her, took Lara by the wrist and forced her left arm back in a lock, making her elbow twinge. She was determined not to cry out, but her lips pursed involuntarily.

“There is no need for that, Karan,” said Ares. “Miss Croft will not resist.”

“Are you sure about that?” asked Lara.

Ares laughed.

“Quite sure, my dear,” said Ares. “What would be the purpose? You are not a stupid woman. You are young, but you have insight. You are brave, too, and you honour your friend with your exhaustive efforts to procure my artifact.”

“
Your
artifact?” asked Lara.

“That which I conceive as my own, invariably falls into my possession,” said Ares. “It was ever thus.”

“Objects do not fall into your possession,” said Lara. “You kill for them.”

“Have you not killed, Miss Croft?” asked Ares.

“For my own ends?” asked Lara. “Never.”

Ares laughed again.

“And when your ends are your survival or the survival of your friends?” asked Ares.

“I am not you,” said Lara. “I am not like you.”

“No,” said Ares, “you are not. It is a pity. I could use you, Miss Croft, but you are too good, too noble, too selfless.”

“Thank you,” said Lara. “It’s only a pity that Kennard Montez didn’t kill you.”

“The young man I warned you about,” said Ares. “I savor his name. You see, sometimes the things I conceive as my own
do
fall into my possession.”

Lara was ambivalent. She didn’t know whether to care or not. She couldn’t decide whether Kennard was as bad as Ares. Either way, both men wanted her dead. She was backed into a corner. Ares was going to kill her. She had the ram statuette. She could feel it jammed into the gun holster at her waist. It felt warm and heavy against her belly. Its presence reassured her. Soon it would be gone. And she would be dead. None of it mattered any more.

“Now, Miss Croft, if you’d like to hand me the Golden Fleece,” said Ares. “This can all be over in a moment.

“Whether I give it to you or not, you’re still going to kill me,” said Lara.

“Just one shot, Miss Croft, your choice of head or heart. As I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted, I suspect you’re ruled by your heart,” said Ares. “No matter. I’m sure Karan will have no compunction taking the Golden Fleece off your corpse.”

“Assuming you can kill me while it is in my possession,” said Lara.

Ares put his hand inside his jacket to pull out the little Derringer that he had insisted belonged to President Lincoln’s assassin.

“The weapon that killed a president has magic of its own,” said Ares.

Lara noticed for the first time that Ares was no longer wearing a tie. She saw the bloodstain on his shirt, and then noticed the small hole in his jacket as it fell back into place. So, Kennard had shot him after all.

Then, she was looking down the barrel of the Derringer pointing at her chest.

Ares took several purposeful strides towards Lara.

Karan took two steps back away from her.

“Don’t worry so much, Karan,” said Ares, holding John Wilkes Booth’s gun lovingly in his hand for a moment, and looking at it. “The bullet from this little weapon will kill Miss Croft, but it won’t penetrate her body, even from this distance. You’re quite safe.”

Lara thought she felt the first bullet sing past her face. Karan’s body had not hit the planks of the chapel roof walkway when the second report rang out. Lara watched as a great splash of red bloomed on Ares’s immaculate shirtfront. He had still been admiring the Derringer in his hand when he had been shot in the back.

Ares’s hand went limp as he looked down at his chest. The gun fell to the planks with a clatter. It bounced, and fired a shot into the parapet wall, which ricocheted off the tiled roof opposite. There was a bang and a spray of stone dust, and then a crack and a puff of orange tile dust.

A spot of blood appeared on Ares’s lip, and then he went down. He toppled like a felled tree. He didn’t crumple or fold, but stayed straight and true, falling flat, as horizontal as he had been vertical only a moment before.

Chapter 35

L
ara ducked behind the parapet wall. She crawled over Karan’s body and grabbed her gun. Crouching against the turret room, she held the gun at arm’s length in two hands and looked for a target.

“Why aren’t I dead?” she asked herself.

She scanned for a target again, but her view from below the height of the parapet wall and behind the turret was very limited. She could see Karan’s and Ares’s bodies stretched out on the walkway ahead of her and the pitched roof to her left. She could see the entrance to the chapel tower ahead of her, and she could see a small section of the top of the chapel roof. That was all.

Karan’s head was only a few feet in front of her, and that was where he’d been shot. She shuffled forwards on her hands and knees and examined his fatal wound. She didn’t know much about angles and trajectories, but she could see enough to guess.

Lara centred herself, crouching on the walkway. Then, she turned her head to the approximate angle of Karan’s gunshot wound. Whoever had shot him had been standing on the chapel roof, but low down, below where Lara could see. If the shooter had been standing on the portion of roof that Lara could see from her squatting position, the bullet would have gone downwards and emerged at the base of his skull or gone into his torso. It hadn’t.

Lara hadn’t been shot, because she’d ducked fast enough. The shooter couldn’t see her.

Lara was safe for the moment. She had some time to think. The shooter only had a view of her from a small section high up on the chapel roof. If she got in the little turret, he wouldn’t be able to see her at all.

Kennard Montez raised a hand in a kind of farewell greeting to the policeman, but he was aware that he was still being watched, so he had to enter the chapel. He was losing valuable seconds.

He stayed as close to the entrance as he could. When he was sure he wasn’t being watched, he made his way to the stairs up to the roof. From there, he’d have good access to Mob Quad, and a good chance of intercepting Lara Croft. He knew and Ares knew that Lara had the ram statuette. The rest should be straightforward.

Kennard stepped out of the tower door onto the chapel roof walkway. He glanced along the walkway to the tiny turret at the other end, but saw nothing and no one. He vaulted the low wall onto the chapel roof, dropped down onto the wide gutter ledge, and walked along, negotiating the buttresses that jutted up between the windows below.

Halfway along the gutter ledge, Kennard stopped and looked back towards the walkway. He had heard movement. He saw an Immortal move along the walkway, and lifted his gun. He hesitated. There was no sign of Lara Croft or of Ares, and he didn’t want to signal his position by firing his weapon. This man was incidental, for now.

Kennard dropped his back against the pitch of the chapel roof and slid down. He could still see the length of the walkway, and he could hear the Immortal’s footfalls on the wooden floor. He preferred not to be seen.

The Immortal disappeared behind the turret, and Kennard heard scuffling. He adjusted his position, shifting his back up the roof so that he was more upright. Soon he was standing, aiming his gun, watching the skirmish unfold between Karan and Lara Croft. If he could get a clean shot in, and take out the Immortal, he would do it.

Kennard Montez stood firm on the wide gutter ledge, shifting his position by taking a short step to the left or right, moving his hands a few centimetres one way or another, keeping his sights on the Immortal and Lara. Several times, they dipped below the parapet wall.

Kennard thought about taking a position further up the roof, but the pitch was steep and he couldn’t be sure of a firm firing stance. He would need to fire a very accurate shot to take out the Immortal and not risk killing Lara in the process. If he had to kill her during the operation, he would do it, even though he had liked her from the beginning. If Ares killed her, so be it.

Finally, Lara was out of sight, below the parapet wall, the Immortal standing over her.

Kennard had no way to know whether she was alive or dead. No shot had been fired, but the Immortals were trained killers and Lara might have been killed in any number of ways. Kennard wanted to shoot the man, but it was out of the question. He still needed to find Ares. He still needed to protect his position.

Then, he heard the Immortal speak, and he saw Ares emerge from the tower door onto the walkway.