The Extraordinary Life of Lara Craft (not Croft)

Prologue

The one-room hut was bare; just a grubby dirt floor and cold stone walls. There were no windows, and in one corner, hidden behind a low wall, Lara spied a hole in the ground. How undignified, she thought in horror. But the pressure in her bladder was mounting, thanks in no small part to the Jade Eggs.

The kidnappers jerked their heads at some thin, grubby-looking cushions and tatty blankets on the packed-earth floor and walked out again, leaving Lara alone with Julian and Alex.

‘Jesus Christ!’ Lara shrieked as soon as their captors had left and locked the door behind them. ‘Who are they? What do they want? Why have they kidnapped us?’ The questions came tumbling out before she could stop them.

Alex and Julian were pacing the room, testing the door, checking for escape routes. Julian turned to her distracted. ‘They’re Somalian pirates.’

‘Pirates?’ Lara gasped. ‘But we’re not at sea. How can they be pirates?’ Weren’t pirates supposed to wear eye patches, feather earrings and lots of black eyeliner, and say ‘aaaaarrr’ a lot? Or was that just Johnny Depp? Lara was confused.

‘Bandits then,’ Julian snapped impatiently. ‘And they’re holding us for ransom.’

‘For ransom?’

‘Yes.’

Panic coursed though her like poison… who was going to pay a ransom for her? Her parents were mortgaged to the hilt. Plus, she hadn’t called her mum in weeks so she’d probably be quite offended if she called her now just to ask for money. Carlos barely had enough loose change to buy the glue to stick his feathers on, and she wasn’t talking to Lucy.

She thought about CP. Maybe she could call him and ask him to help her out. Yes, that was it. CP would definitely help her out. He was one of the wealthiest Arab Princes in Dubai. But then she remembered her phone was now lying by the road somewhere in the African wilderness and she didn’t have any other way of getting in touch with him. JJ had long ago banned CP’s Facebook account… not that the Somalian pirates had set up a convenient internet station in their prison.

She almost burst into tears again. Then, with a gasp, she remembered the diamond ring in her pocket. That was it. Maybe she could buy their freedom with that!

‘How much ransom are they hoping to get?’ she asked.

‘They won’t get anything for us,’ Alex answered. ‘Our governments won’t pay ransoms to kidnappers. Nor will the company we work for.’ He glanced at Lara nervously. ‘But they think they can get a ransom for you.’

‘For me? Why me?’

‘Because they think you’re her,’ Julian answered, pressing his palms against the walls and sighing through his nostrils at the floor.

Lara blinked. ‘Think I’m who?’

‘You do look like her.’ Alex concurred.

‘And I guess they don’t have much of a clue.’ Julian shrugged.

‘Like who?’ Lara spluttered in frustration, wondering what the hell the two of them were going on about. And then…

Oh God. It suddenly started to sink in. ‘You mean Angelina Jolie?’ she asked, her voice little more than a rasp. ‘They think I’m actually her?’

Neither Alex nor Julian answered.

Lara swallowed. Her mouth was bone dry. ‘You mean to say that I’ve been kidnapped because they think I’m an A-List celebrity?’

Julian grimaced. ‘Yes, we were in a blacked-out Jeep. And we’re private security. Easy mistake to make.’

‘Much bloody good you are as bodyguards!’ Lara yelled, suddenly irate.

‘Listen, I was the one who convinced them not to chop off a finger!’ Julian shouted back, just as loudly, ‘I told them Brad wouldn’t pay up if they hurt you.’

‘Oh,’ Lara blanched. ‘Do you think he might pay up anyway?’ she asked, trying to imagine what Brad might do when he heard the news. He seemed like a decent man, but then again, she was basing her judgment on his character in Ocean’s Eleven. He might just laugh and go back to playing golf with George Clooney (the real one) or quad-biking with Pax and Knox and Maddox. Or having a quiet night in with the real Angelina Jolie. ‘Do you think anyone will pay? What if they figure out I’m not actually her?’

Alex took a deep breath. ‘Then we’re in trouble.’

‘We’re in trouble anyway,’ Julian answered, grimly. ‘As soon as they figure out they can’t get any money for us, they’ll execute us.’

Lara felt suddenly faint. She didn’t want to die in this hell-hole. She thought of how they’d discover her bullet-ridden body lying in the dirt. She thought about the autopsy and how they’d extract the Jade Eggs and wonder how they got there. Her mum would find out. Oh Christ. It was too much to bear.

‘We have to get out of here!’ she hissed, scrabbling for the door. Alex caught her around the waist.

‘Woah, woah,’ he said. ‘We can’t escape yet. We don’t know where we are. We’ve got no weapons, no map, no transport. We wait, we assess the situation, we gather intel.’

Somehow, perhaps because of the way he spoke in a manner reminiscent of Jack Bauer from 24, Lara calmed down. She repeated his words in her head. Wait. Assess. Intel. Yes, OK, that sounded sensible. Then the hysterical coward in her reared up unannounced and she tried to run for the door again.

Alex tackled her to the ground. ‘I just don’t want to die,’ she sobbed into his muscular chest as he held her and rocked her.

‘I know,’ he said, his lips close to her ear.