UNCHARTED: Strange Relic

II.

"Don't move." The woman's voice is soft, yet still quite intimidating, and carries a slight British accent. "Are you armed?"

"No." Drake tries to make out her figure on the blurred reflection on the glass case in front of him. Even from the distorted view, she's a sight for sore eyes. "But you're welcome to frisk me if you like."

As if a simple 'no' wouldn't suffice, she shoves the muzzle of the gun into his lower back and he groans. She leans in to grab the tranquilizer gun from his holster and slips it underneath her belt.

"Turn around." She orders.

"Don't move or turn around, which is it?" He snidely remarks.

She reaches over to grab his shoulder and pulls him around to face her.

Drake's eyes widen and his jaw drops. "Wow!"

Lara Croft is in her mid-twenties, slightly younger than him. She has long brunette hair that she often wears in a loose ponytail with her long bangs brushed to the side. A tight, turquoise tank top reveals much of her chest and the shirt stops just before her waist. Her tan cargo pants are so tight they look as if they were painted on, and are tucked into brown ankle boots.

"Thank you!" She sarcastically smiles and reaches over to snatch the necklace from his palm.

Drake shakes his head to quickly snap out of his momentary daze and reluctantly pulls his arm back in the air, the pendant just swaying inches out of her reach. "Nuh-uh. I don't think so, lady."

"Are you forgetting who has the gun here?"

He smirks. "You're not a killer. I can tell."

"Got me there." She pulls the trigger and a bullet grazes Drake's right arm, causing him to drop the necklace.

She slides down to snatch it up and immediately runs back for the window when he grabs her right leg.

She spins around, kicking him in the upper chest with her other leg and he goes flying into one of the nearby displays. Glass shatters onto the floor and an alarm sounds, echoing throughout the vast building.

Lara turns back for the window when she sees lights shining through it from the other side. She turns around to run down one of the hallways when she hears commotion and sees several lights bouncing off of the walls ahead of her. "Ahh crap."

Drake grabs her arm and she grips onto his, spinning around as she twists it, and pins him to the wall. Their lips are inches away from touching. The commotion grows louder.

Drake's voice is muffled as her arm digs into his throat. "I was going to say—" He struggles with each word. "Let's go this way."

His shaking hand points at an open doorway to a stairwell in the corner of the room. She looks at him and smirks before letting go and dashing in that direction.

Catching his breath, Drake bolts after her just as half a dozen armed men flood into the room from the hallway. Bullets spray his direction and he runs through the door frame, shards of wood and stone flying in the air inches behind him.