Tomb Raider: The Legacy

Chapter 12: Chosen

"Am I allowed to shower?" She couldn't contain herself, finally. "Or is smelling like this room part of the plan, too?"

The ex-legionary turned to her. He wasn't smiling. "Was that sarcasm?" He asked. "Okay, disobey me. At your own risk. But when they find you dead I won't approach to check if it's your body or not – watching it on TV will be enough."

He rummaged in his jacket and pulled out a key chain, which he threw on the bedspread.

"Lock yourself when you leave. You have enough food for a week. Don't eat indiscriminately, but don't starve yourself either. I need you strong for what you gotta do." He opened the zipper of the bag. "You've also stuff to treat your surgery wounds. Oh, and some light reading." Now a smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. He lifted a thick wad of printed sheets. "That way you'll kill time instead of time killing you."

"What is it?"

"A draft of Selma's thesis. I think it might be interesting."

"Thanks for caring about my entertainment." Again, the sarcasm. She was growing bold.

Kurtis cut her short. "I don't give a damn about your entertainment". The jacket was closed with a jerk. "I need you to read it and confirm the names and places of the Cabal fuckers who are still alive, or not, that can still be a problem, or that can move to a secondary place of interest. You have a pencil in the bag. Write down."

"That's an order? This wasn't part of the deal."

"Everything I tell you to do is part of the deal. Period." Turning around, Kurtis strode to the door, but before he opened it, Barbara stopped him. "Wait!"

"What?"

"What happens if you don't return after a week? Maybe it's you who ends up being a corpse on TV."

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and smiled with that crooked smile of his. "Then, do what you've been doing pretty good so far." He said. "Run."

(...)  

That night, under the electric light of the Arabian lanterns Jean had decorating his terrace in ​​Khan-el-Khalili, and after Anna fell exhausted on one of his couches in the warm attic, Lara informed Jean about the current status of Selma's thesis, what happened in Sri Lanka, Marie's illness, and the uncertainties of the future. She only avoided mentioning Kurtis, until, of course, the French Egyptologist ended up reading between the lines, for which he'd always had a talent.

"Not an appropriate time for fights." He commented discreetly, sinking his nose into his glass of Moorish tea. "And there must have been such, since Kurtis is not here dealing with something that affects him as much as the girl." Before Lara could protest, he raised his hand to silence her. "Don't worry, chérie. I don't intend to mess with your private life. You know how to handle this as well as him, I'm certain."

"Rather, your main concern is to enter Loanna's tomb." Lara hinted with a poisonous smile. "And finally own the exclusive publication and divulgation of the study."

"Mais non!" Jean shrugged with pretended innocence. "I care about the kid as much as you. But I doubt we should be worried. Those Lux Veritatis won't hurt her."

"No, of course not." Lara sighed. "Now she's one of them. The earlier we solve this, the better."

Jean leaned over the golden tray and picked up his umpteenth baklava.

"You should stop eating those." The British explorer told him.

"Do I tell you how you should manage your... huh..." He hesitated, looking for the appropriate word. "... partner? Or your daughter? Non? Then let me handle my stomach."