by Dave Stern
“Go,” Terry said, and Lara leapt.
Gunfire raked the side of the building where she’d been.
Her hands caught the edge of the roof and she used her momentum to swing herself up and over and onto the helipad.
Lara ran for the windsock. The gunfire behind her continued, though she was no longer in range. Terry, still providing a target for their attackers. Awfully sporting of him—she’d have to thank him later. In the meantime…
She surveyed the helipad as she ran. The facility was in an obvious state of disrepair—and just as obviously, someone had made very recent attempts to bring it back up to snuff. A coat of fresh paint on the tarmac, a new array of lights fastened to the far edge of the roof. Very, very recent attempts, she realized, spotting some supplies stacked underneath a plastic tarp right by the light array. An old furniture dolly lay turned upside down atop the tarp, placed there to keep it from blowing away.
She’d bet good money that the work had been done on Reiss’s behalf, in advance of a planned landing here tonight. Well—for whatever reason the doctor had changed his plans. Not once, but twice. Now the exchange was set for the pagoda and that was where she needed to be.
Which was when she heard the roar of the helicopter and looked up to see it descending toward the square.
Reiss was going to make the exchange now.
Time was up. She had to move.
Xien had done as he was told without a word of complaint or even suggestion, which at this point in the evening Reiss was thankful for. Not that the man had much choice in the matter—Reiss’s operatives on the ground outnumbered the Shay Ling by more than three to one. On top of which, Sean had already given Xien the suitcase containing payment for the Orb.
But still…
Reiss appreciated a smooth transaction.
He intended to make his appreciation known to Xien shortly, but for the moment, the doctor was focused on completing the exchange—and making sure that Croft did not interrupt him this time.
He punched up Sean’s number on his cell.
“O’Sullivan.”
“Where is she?”
“The helipad. We have her and Sheridan pinned down on the top floor.”
Reiss glanced across the square at the tall building, and frowned.
“I see movement on the roof, as well.”
“Understood,” Sean said. “We will redeploy.”
“See that you do—and don’t forget your previous instructions. Once I have the Orb—” Reiss glanced down, and saw Xien waiting on the roof of the pagoda “—I will be taking it directly back to Hong Kong. Follow me when—and only when—your task is completed.”
Without waiting for a reply, Reiss hung up.
“Take us down,” he told the pilot.
Lara ran for the pole with the windsock. She looked down: the anchors holding it to the roof were rusted almost clean through. One good push and that pole would fall.
She looked up, judged its height and the distance to the pagoda, and then frowned.
Not quite long enough. The little brainstorm Terry and she had shared—repeating her accidental stunt with the sign from before, when it had fallen and made a ladder for her to climb down the side of the building—wasn’t going to work.
Time for Plan B. Only problem was, she didn’t have a Plan B.
She watched the copter descend and realized she was not going to be able to stop Reiss. He was going to get the Orb—there was nothing she could do to prevent it.
On the plus side, she still had the medallion. If her instincts were right, and that was the key, Reiss would need it to read the Orb. Making the exchange would bring him no closer to Pandora.
If her instincts were right.
If the key wasn’t on the parts of the Orb that she hadn’t been able to photograph.
If Reiss wasn’t able to find some other way to read it.
Hell, Lara thought.
Plan B it was.
Her mind raced. The pole. The dolly. One of the nifty little gadgets Shumei had given her.
She put the pieces together in her head as she ran.
The copter slowed its descent, leveling off a few feet above the roof of the pagoda. Xien stood there, holding out the Orb in its case.
Reiss slid open the copter door and leaned out to take it from him.
Down in the square, someone began setting off firecrackers.
As he took hold of the case, the doctor paused to look down. Odd. He didn’t see anyone but his men. Most of them, as Sean had said, were gathered around the building with the helipad atop it.
They were all pointing up at something.
The copter, Reiss thought at first, but then he turned and saw what had drawn their attention.
The pole atop the helipad was falling right toward them.
And riding atop it, guns blazing, was Croft.
All of a sudden, Reiss’s men stopped firing.
Terry wondered what had happened, but while he was wondering, he ran. No sense in looking a gift horse in the mouth, not in his situation. Which up until a split second ago had seemed quite bleak.
After Croft had leapt for the roof, he’d made a leap of his own—a jump back inside the building, into an office of some kind. He had no chance to look around, however, because hot on his tail came several hundred rounds of ammunition. He took refuge behind a metal desk, but the gunfire continued so hot and heavy that the walls themselves began to cave in around him. So he’d made a break for a window clear on the other side of the room, climbing out onto a balcony on the back of the building and what he thought was safety. For about two seconds—until the strafing started again, even heavier than before. He’d managed to slide down a fire escape ladder to the building next door, getting himself another momentary respite, and was just about to make another move when the gunfire had stopped.
Puzzled, Terry looked out the window. Reiss’s men were still down there, all right, only they were all looking back toward the building he’d just come from. Toward the helipad.
Terry looked up and saw the pole with the windsock falling and smiled. Croft was heading for the pagoda. She’d need help when she got there.
Holstering his guns, he’d headed for the street.
The dolly she’d used for a skateboard.
The pole like a ski jump.
And the little gadget Shumei had given her…
Well, what were little gadgets for, after all?
Lara had grabbed the dolly from off the tarp and jumped on it with both feet, running full out. She built up speed with a circuit around the building’s outer ledge, then jumped the board smack into the pole. The anchor bolts popped right away and the pole began falling. She rode it as best she could, sliding down the smooth steel surface toward the pagoda.
She fired as she went, but her aim was way off, distracted as she was by trying to maintain her balance. The gunfire caught Reiss’s attention though—she was close enough to see him turn away from Xien and fasten his gaze on her. It was the best look she’d had at him yet, and the expression on his face was priceless. Equal parts disbelief and anger—or was that annoyance? Lara fixed the image in her mind—she looked forward to savoring it in the days to come.
For right now, it was the Orb she was interested in.
Good God, was there no stopping her? Was he surrounded by idiots and incompetents? Was he going to have to kill Lara Croft himself?
The answer to all three questions, unfortunately, appeared to be yes.
The case with the Orb was at his feet, just inside the copter door. Keeping one foot in front of it to prevent it from falling, Reiss reached back into the copter for his gun. Bullets pinged off the copter skids and he looked up just in time to see Croft flying toward him. Actually flying. The sight so unnerved him for a moment that he forgot to bring his weapon to bear.
Then he saw that her flight was actually a free fall, and that the pole she’d used to vault across to him was tumbling away behind her toward the g
round below.
Croft was about to join it when she reached out and grabbed the bottom of the helicopter skid. I’ve got her now, Reiss thought, and raised his gun to fire.
She raised hers first and fired, and he had to duck away.
When he looked back, she was hanging from the copter door, with a hand on the case holding the Orb.
Reiss pulled the trigger. Behind Croft, he saw Xien’s gun spit fire, as well.
She flinched—Reiss couldn’t tell if she’d been hit or not—and fell.
He leaned out the copter door and watched her hit the pagoda roof and slide down the slick tile surface toward the edge.
Reiss pulled the Orb the rest of the way into the copter.
“This has been a messy business, doctor,” Xien said. “I’m glad it’s over.”
“The mess has just begun, I’m afraid,” Reiss said. “My regards to your brother.”
Xien’s eyes narrowed in confusion.
Reiss shot him in the heart.
Xien toppled backward onto the roof and plunged toward the street below.
Reiss, watching him fall, smiled for the first time in what seemed like days.
Then he saw Croft, hanging onto the edge of the roof, dangling over the alley, and his face fell.
“Up!” he yelled to the pilot. “Up!”
She couldn’t hold on for more than another few seconds, Lara realized. Her grip was slipping on the slick tile surface already.
The trick was going to be deciding where to fall.
Unfortunately, the pagoda’s isolation didn’t work to her advantage in this instance, either. The paved surface of the market square looked like her only option, unless you counted Xien’s truck, which had a nice soft canvas roof, but was parked a good twenty feet away from the pagoda. That roof might be reachable if she could get up some momentum and do a flip, but if she failed—
A body slid just past her right then and plummeted to the street below, smashing into the decapitated head of her dragon sign with a loud crack that made her wince.
It was Xien. Correction—it had been Xien.
Happy as she was to see him dead, the killing sent her dislike for Reiss shooting up another notch. And sent an extra jolt of adrenaline through her body.
She took a second look at the truck and decided it was within reach after all.
Lara swung her legs back and then lunged forward, kicking out with all her might. At the height of her swing forward, she let go of the roof and soared out into space.
Her legs continued their backward motion, swinging out over her head.
She completed the flip, landing feet first atop the canvas, and immediately jumped down to the ground.
Reiss’s men had seen her and were on the move again.
She took a step forward and then froze.
Someone was inside the truck.
She drew her gun and ripped the back flap open.
Terry hopped out and handed her another gun.
“Fresh clip,” he said. “And how are you?”
Before she could answer, gunfire ripped through the canvas. They both dove to the ground.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Terry whispered. “They’ve got cars blocking all the alleys.”
Lara pressed her back up against one of the huge rear wheels. Terry was right—if they didn’t break through the cordon Reiss’s men had set up, that cordon would tighten, and despite the faith she had in her abilities and his, they were outnumbered thirty to one. They would be killed and she wouldn’t get to use Shumei’s little gadget.
She leaned out from behind the tire and scanned the square, looking for a way out. Terry was snaking his way along the ground to join her.
“Bull,” she said when he got there.
He misunderstood her. “What do you mean, bull? Look for yourself—every street is covered—”
“No,” Lara interrupted. “Bull!”
She pointed across the square.
Squeezed in between two of the market stalls was an animal pen. Standing at the entrance gate, horns jutting out into the street, was a huge black bull. Other animals were visible behind it.
Terry snorted. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“Not in the least. Ferdinand there is our ticket out.”
“If we can reach him, you mean.”
Terry had a point. They had at least fifty feet of open ground to cover between them and the pen.
“Think we can get there?” she asked.
“You’ve been pretty good at dodging bullets so far, Croft, but…”
She waited for him to finish, and when he didn’t, turned to face him.
He was staring at the shop closest to the truck. It looked to have been some kind of hardware store, though she couldn’t be entirely certain since the sign above it had been shot to pieces. As had the windows facing the street.
But somehow, miraculously, the pyramid of spray-paint cans in the store display hadn’t been touched at all.
“Do I think we can get to your bulls?” Terry repeated. “I do now.”
Reiss’s men seemed to be content to wait, to let Croft and him make the first move. Which they missed entirely—that move being Terry crawling to the store commando-style and retrieving the spray-paint cans—ten in all.
When he was ready, he gave Croft the high sign.
She stood up and ran for the pen.
Terry followed, facing back toward the truck. As he ran, he threw the first can high in the air and—taking careful aim—he shot it as it fell.
The can exploded, bursting into flames, sending drops of blazing paint shooting through the air. Some of those drops splattered Reiss’s men—those unfortunate few dropped their weapons and brushed frantically at their clothes.
Terry smiled and threw another can.
Four explosions later, he and Lara had reached the gate. The bull had retreated a few feet back from the entrance and was now eyeing them suspiciously.
“Now what?”
“Now we wave the red flag,” Lara said, pulling off her jacket. The inside, Terry saw, was a deep, deep crimson.
Just as he was about to tell Croft that he’d done the whole running-of-the-bulls thing before, and once was plenty for him, gunfire nicked the fence post right next to him.
“Hold them off,” Croft said, turning her jacket inside out.
“I’ll try—but hurry.” Terry showed her five paint cans—all he had left from the display. “That’s how long you have.”
She nodded and leapt into the pen.
Terry turned. Reiss’s men were coming, fast and furious.
“Here goes number five, Croft,” he shouted, tossing the can in the air. As soon as it exploded, he threw another. “Four!”
Behind him, he heard a loud snort and the charging of something massive.
“Three,” he shouted. “Croft—where are you?”
He turned, and almost got his head taken off by a piece of the gate, which shattered as Lara rode through it astride the huge black bull. Two others, even bigger than the first, followed.
Terry slipped between them, heading straight for a clump of Reiss’s men, who looked bewildered and then terrified.
They broke and ran.
Terry used the last two paint cans to break up a knot of men massed together by one of the Mercedes.
The bulls brushed past the massive auto like it was a toy and continued full speed down the alley for several minutes.
Finally, when Lara judged they were clear of any possible pursuit, she jumped down from the black bull. The animal immediately slowed. With a slap on its rear, Lara sent it walking back up the street the way they’d come.
“Runaway,” she explained to a crowd of curious onlookers.
Terry caught up to her at the next corner.
“You have a way with animals, Croft.”
“And you have a way with paint.”
“Thank you. Sorry we didn’t get your Orb. Any idea where Reiss would take it?”
/> “Let’s find out,” Lara said.
She stepped into the shadows. At Terry’s confused look, she reached into her pack and pulled out the second half of the gadget Shumei had given her—MI6’s latest GPS display.
The other half, of course, was the transmitter—which she’d fastened on the crate with the Orb, while the copter hovered over the pagoda.
She flipped the display on and saw the signal was coming through loud and clear.
“You put a tracer on it,” Terry said. “I’m impressed.”
“I don’t go skating down flagpoles, full guns, unless I know I’m going to succeed.”
She watched the transmitter move off and smiled. She had the Orb again—after a fashion.
The question now, of course, was where Reiss was taking it.
Fourteen
A hot shower. A clean suit. A good Shiraz, a strong cheddar, a fresh loaf of olive bread, ten cc’s of a rejuvenating cocktail specially engineered for his system…
Reiss felt almost human again.
He returned to the main lab, anxious to begin work. Dr. Holliday, who had been with him since the Nobel, the only one of his staff who could make that claim, was there waiting. They had already talked once this evening after Holliday had tested the Orb for biological contamination. He noted that she’d already changed, from biohazard gear into a standard lab coat.
The Orb remained where he had left it, in the clean room, still in its case. Reiss had taken a preliminary look at the delicate etchings on the object’s surface and decided to prohibit his staff from handling it.
At a nod from him, Holliday began.
As Reiss watched, robotic hands gently lifted the Orb from the crate and held it motionless in the air. Reiss moved closer to the Plexiglas window separating him from the Orb. Seen up close like this, the object was truly amazing. Luminescent markings, silvery etchings reminiscent of nothing so much as computer circuitry, covered its glowing black core.
“There was always a part of me that allowed for the possibility Pandora’s box was just a legend,” Reiss whispered, as much to himself as the doctor. “But seeing this, I know it’s there.”
