Tomb Raider: The Awakening

Chapter 1: A Helicopter Needed

"What about destroying files?" Kurtis brandished the knife toward the sooty black metal barrel full of ashes. "This is an evacuation. Nobody is doing inventory right now."

Another explosion sounded in the distance. The colonel sighed.

"Okay. Tell me why you want the helicopter."

The ex-legionnaire took a map of the island, unfolded it with a slap and, without further explanation, sticked the knife at the north end. Kendrick snorted.

"Impossible to land there. It's all jungle, the ground isn't visible."

"I can. I'm the best pilot you've ever had."

"I forgot you're a cocky bastard. What for? There are only ruins, temples, tombs and dead, so many dead."

"That's where I'm going. Extraction of two civilians."

He'd continued arming himself to the teeth while talking with short, dry and fast sentences. He looked like Rambo with ants in his pants.

"Two civilians? All this fuss for two civilians? Are you nuts?"

"I've always been a softie."

Now he was being sarcastic.

"Tell me the truth and I'll help, I promise."

Kurtis turned, enervated, and pulled the knife off the map.

"I don't need your fucking help! I need a fucking helicopter! Now!"

Another explosion sounded closer. The ceiling lamp vibrated and a thin layer of dust fell on them.

Kendrick snapped to attention.

"I'm a damn colonel, and you were only a caporal, you're an ex-soldier. This is not for you..."

"You wouldn't be colonel right now if you were killed in Kabul, and you're alive thanks to this caporal and ex-soldier." Kurtis pointed at his chest with the knife, challenging. But then he gave up. "I need to pick up a woman and a girl there. Westerners. And I've got to do it now."

The colonel gaped.

"The hell are doing a woman and a g...?" He was interrupted by Kurtis' glare. "It's too late. The north of the island is in the rebels' hands. Just a matter of time before they get raped, butchered and thrown into a ditch."

"Probably, if I'm still here taking your shit!". The ex-legionnaire banged his fist against the table. "It's my daughter, Matt. And her mother. Give me that fucking helicopter and get the hell outta here!"

Kendrick gaped again. Then he jumped from his chair:

"Damn, you could have said that before."

He'd always been a bit slow to read between the lines.

Three minutes later, Kurtis jumped in the pilot's seat and frantically lit the controls. Indeed, he'd been one of the Legion's best pilots, but that was twenty years ago. Kendrick knew nothing about him and no one in their right mind would even think of landing in the middle of a jungle. Fortunately, in his recent missions he'd been familiar with the most modern models.

Kendrick might have gone with him. Despite shouting, insults and fuss, they had been companions and yeah, he owed Kurtis his life. So he let him do it, which in a logical and orderly chain of military command, in any other context that wasn't that havoc, would mean court martial with a bad ending.

"You're totally nuts, y'know?" He shouted from afar, clutching his cap. "And since when are you a family man?"

But he was no longer listening. The sound of the propellers was deafening.