Wonders of an Ancient Glory: Part IV
A Tomb Raider Fiction Story
Starring Lara Croft
By Ryan Foley
Half of Being is the fourth part of the Wonders of an Ancient Glory story line. If you haven’t read Parts One through Three yet, you may want to stop reading and do so. You will more than likely be able to find these segments at the same web site that you found this story or E-mail me to receive a copy. While most these stories are complete within themselves, they are connected together and long time readers have already discovered this is forming into a full-length novel story.
I would love to hear your opinions of these stories, so feel free to E-mail me at okfoley@earthlink.net and let me know what you think. Also, pass along a few words of thanks to the webmasters who were nice enough to support this endeavor of mine. They are integral in bringing these stories to you, so lend them a few words of thanks as well.
I’m really proud of this section of "WoAG" and in the preliminary readings, others are enjoying it as well. The cliffhanger ending as left my work cut out for me but I’m already diligently working on the next chapter.
I hope you like the fourth ongoing installment of Wonders of an Ancient Glory. This story was just a tad longer than my other works but I just couldn’t tell the tale any shorter. I’ve included a second Method of Madness feature located at the end of the story, giving more insight into me. I hope you use the information.
So let’s get on with it. As always: Ladies and Gentlemen, stand by for action!
Ryan Foley
To Justin and Shala
You guys are my biggest fans.
Thanks for keeping me encouraged over the years and
reminding me to believe in myself even if others don’t.
Tomb Raider and Lara Croft are copyright © and trademark ™ EIDOS Entertainment.
Witchblade and Sara Pezzini are copyright © and trademark ™ Top Cow Productions.
This story is copyright © and trademark ™ RMF Enterprises.
The "Wonders of an Ancient Glory" storyline is a profit-free printing. The author has received no compensation for its publication and seeks only to spread the story to the widest possible fan base.
This is a work of fiction. All character, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.
Any resemblance to actual events or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Prologue
The Past: She stepped out into the cold, desert night air. From her balcony, she took in the sights of the city below. She could see the flickering torches in the darkness, illuminating the stone structures of the urban centers.
Her flowing silk robe billowed open exposing her naked flesh to the cold air. Her senses had never felt more alive. She could sense every prickling nub of the goose bumps caused by the chilly air. Her nostrils breathed in the fresh night air but she could still smell the aromas of scented candles, incense, wine, and intimate relations from the bedchamber beyond.
Spinning on her heel, she reentered her private bedchambers. Inside the luxurious accommodations, stood her five procurements for the evening. Each man was impressively built; muscles strong and defined from the lifting of heavy marble and immense pillars used in the construction of the lavish palace.
She ran her hands along her silk gown, smoothing the fine fabric against her toned skin. The men shifted uncomfortably in their various places within the room as she passed her hawk-like gaze over each of the men. Most of the men wore nothing more than simple loincloths and the indisputable awareness of their bodies caused her appetite to resurface.
Moving among the men like a wolf amidst sheep she stalked each of them to decide her next partner. Suddenly her gaze snapped to the back of the room. Looking into the shadows, one of her implements of pleasure sat on one of the many lounges in the ornate bedroom. He sat with his chin in his palm and his eyes drifted closed in the lightest of sleep.
As she moved towards the man, the others fretted nervously knowing they could not help their comrade, knowing that any noise would draw her attention. Fear of bringing unwanted attention to themselves kept them quiet.
The woman gently ran her left hand down the cheek of the sleeping slave, waking him with a start. His eyes snapped open immediately locking gazes with the glittering black eyes of the woman. Fear spread over his face until the woman smiled a gentle, warm, seductive grin.
His gaze dropped to the exposed flesh beneath her opened robe. Without speaking, he knew it was his turn and removed his simple loincloth to accommodate his emperoress. Looking up from the flesh, he gazed into her smiling face.
He never saw her right hand raise. He never saw her slender hand become wrapped in the mysterious silver-gray metal. He never saw the wicked talons spread from her fingertips.
In the morning, after the emperoress had risen to see to her nation’s duties, the cleaning staff was appalled by the state of disrepair. They had heard awful screaming coming from the room earlier in the night but nothing prepared them for this.
Five bodies littered the room. Blood was sprayed on every wall with the largest collection pooled around the impressive oversized bed. Had the matriarch slept amidst all this blood? What had the men done to deserve such a fate?
Nevertheless, the staff knew never to trifle with Emperoress Qavar Kaimen.
The Present: Sara Pezzini stood in the small modest bathroom placing the finishing touches on her outfit. She finished lacing up the heavy desert hiking-boots and secured all the available pockets on her tan and brown desert fatigues.
Double-checking to make sure the door was securely locked, she fell into a light meditative trance. Slowly, the curious band of metal wrapped about her right wrist began to glow. The simple metal, no bigger than an average watch or bracelet, grew to an enormous size, covering her entire hand and forearm. The metal expanded to form a gauntlet of intricate-woven patterns far beyond the sculpting skills of any metal worker.
She felt her power surge. The metal increased its bond with its host flooding her body with endorphins and adrenaline to prepare her for the adventure it sensed ahead. Flexing her hand from a tight fist to an outstretched spread of fingers and back again, Sara Pezzini marveled at the perfect blend of woman and weapon. Perhaps now, with this adventure lying in wait, she would find answers to what this thing really was. Maybe she would discover the secret of the Witchblade.
"How are we this fine morning?"
Lara Croft turned to cast her gaze over her shoulder. Sara walked up beside the world famous adventurer and the two stared out to the chaotic scene beyond. Despite the early hour, the temperature had already begun its steady ascent to the forecasted century mark. "As good as can be expected," Lara said with a slight smile, shielding her eyes from the harsh glare of one of the canopies as the aircraft taxied by. "How did you sleep?"
"Well pretty good once I finally put out of my mind that we would be parachuting into a country that hates America to go grave robbing," Sara said jokingly.
Lara turned sharply. "It is not grave robbing. I’m insulted that you would…"
Sara quickly interrupted, "Whoa, hold on. I just… I mean… It’s a figure of speech. No offense."
"None taken," Lara said quietly, calming down. "Lately, many people have degraded my work. Called me a grave robber. I’ve begun to take such comments as an insult. How would you feel if I called you a bribe-taking, donut-eating, mob-collaborating, police woman?"
"I guess I see your point," Sara said sheepishly. "So what should I call our little adventure? What do archeologists call them?"
"Digs."
"Digs? That’s it? Not very flattering."
"Well, technically we’re not going to dig up anything. This is a rescue op."
The two looked out to the bustling activity on the tarmac beyond. The British military helicopter base was alive with activity. Repairs to various helicopters were taking place as well as several aircraft being placed on high alert to respond to potential threats.
Fort Edelman was home to a variety of experimental helicopters. Its location along the northeastern Mediterranean Coast made it a potential staging point to deploy helicopters and troops to the Middle East in case the current unrest between the United Nations and Iraq escalated.
As the two gazed out at the ordered anarchy, a stately man dressed in olive drab fatigues made his way across the tarmac to the small hanger where the two were sheltered. The man stood almost 6’3" but his work behind the desk and lack of regular PT had caused him to develop a bit of a stomach.
Taking off his aviator glasses, he gazed to the two women and extended his hand to Sara. "Ms. Pezzini, I presume."
"That’s right," Sara said loudly to talk over the roar of a helicopter flying overhead.
"Colonel James D. Procter. It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am. Lara’s told me quite a bit about you," he said also raising his voice to talk over the incessant engine noise. "What do you say we go to my office to talk about your situation."
"Can we get you anything? Something to drink?" Col. Procter offered after making their way to the base commander’s office.
"Some coffee would be nice," Lara said.
"Yeah, I could use my morning fix," Sara agreed.
After pouring the ladies each a mug of coffee from his coffee maker, the Colonel settled into his chair and ran his fingers through his thinning, dark hair.
"If you don’t mind me asking Colonel," Sara asked after choking down a sip of the impossibly strong coffee, "what’s and American officer doing on a British military base?"
With raised eyebrows and a slight smile, the Colonel responded quickly. "Actually the base is almost a full quarter American. We comprise a large amount of the technical staff and officer complement. We were brought in to help the British become proficient with some of the latest advancements in stealth technology."
"So what about our arrangement Col. Procter?" Lara said, ready to get down to business.
"I’ve pulled in every favor I could Lara, but something like this isn’t exactly easy to arrange especially not on the kind of notice you provided," Procter said. "We can bypass most of the formalities and claim the run as a live test of new modifications."
"But?" Lara said, knowing it was coming.
"But certain adjustments will have to made to the Raptor B.O.P."
"Such as?"
"The Raptor was designed to operate as a reconnaissance craft working in conjunction to cover troop movements. The specs say it can be fitted to a long-range craft but we’ll have to strip off most of the armaments to accommodate for additional fuel tanks. At the most, the Raptor will only be able to carry two, maybe four, Sidewinders and a small turbo cannon."
"So no necessary engagements?" Lara asked.
"No engagements would be preferred," Sara said hastily.
"I share the same opinion," the Colonel said wiping his furrowed brow. "Writing off jet fuel isn’t that difficult but if a couple missiles or a few hundred rounds show up missing, people tend to ask questions."
"I understand," Lara said showing no emotion.
"I don’t want to have to report to my superiors how we used a multi-million dollar stealth helicopter to smuggle civilian operatives into a hot zone in Iraq while we’re at a high probability of going to war."
Lara smiled, "Well, that makes three of us. How’s twenty-one-hundred sound to launch?"
In the early evening at their private guest quarters, Lara Croft and Sara Pezzini sat in silence. The lodgings were highly militaristic, Spartan in design adorned with military photographs of several different helicopters in action.
Lara laid on one of the couches with her arm draped across her eyes, breathing lightly. Sara, in stark contrast, paced like a caged animal, tense with anticipation. To break the silence, Sara asked, "How do you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Just lie there so calm?"
"Years of experience," Lara said, not removing her arm from her eyes.
"I’ve done undercover work and countless busts, but none of that even begins to prepare you for something like this," Sara said, wringing her hands.
"Nothing ever does," Lara said, devoid of emotions.
"So, how do you do it?"
Lara sat up and looked softly yet sternly at the police detective. "Nothing ever can prepare you for what you’re about to face. Every situation is different. You want to… well, you hope you act a certain way. But in reality, you never know how you’ll react to a situation until you’re in the middle of it. I assume that’s pretty much standard with any life threatening situation."
Sara finally took a seat in a chair across from Lara and smiled, "I see your point. I’ve seen stone hard agents break down at one crime scene and be like ice at another. I guess you just wade in and hope for the best."
Lara laughed, "Wade in and hope for the best. That could be my motto. I guess, first and foremost, you have to believe that you go into the situation in charge and with the upper hand. If you believe you can do it, you will. Belief is half of being."
Lara’s watched beeped an alarm, drawing her attention. "We’ve got an hour until launch. We’d better get ready."
In the solitude of her room, Lara Croft looked at her gear lying on the bed. For her desert mission, she was forced to trade in her khaki shorts and scoop neck shirt for official desert fatigues. With she and her partner parachuting into a disputed area, every bit of camouflage would be necessary.
She stepped into her trusted boots and packed up her lucky backpack. Full medical supplies and ammunitions in the main pouch for easy retrieval, miscellaneous items like grenades, maps, cleaning supplies, water and rations stored in the bottom and side pouches.
She strapped in her matte-black magnum pistols and new shotgun. The shotgun was an eight-gauge with sawed off barrel and shortened stock. The piece was more compact and easier to carry that her previous weapon, but kicked with a considerable amount of force.
She then hefted the latest edition to her arsenal. The black MP-5 submachine gun provided by Col. Procter was impressive to say the least. The small, compact frame belayed its true potential. This weapon could discharge a massive amount of rounds in a brief instant. The silencer almost seemed longer than the barrel itself and the laser sight was even handier.
She gently squeezed the trigger activating the laser sight and spun to see her reflection in the mirror over the chest of drawers. She stared down the sight of the rifle and into the reflection of her own eyes. She still wasn’t comfortable with the high ammunition.
But she was afraid this high amount of firepower would be needed on this trip.
In the solitude of her room, Sara Pezzini looked at her gear lying on the bed. She was truly out of her element now. Her standard jeans and jacket had been replaced by awful tan and brown fatigues. She looked at the uniform, sighed, and removed her underwear. She felt foolish. Imagine what her parents would think if they could see her now. Strutting about a military base not wearing panties!
When Lara told her to do so, Sara almost laughed. But the discomfort of desert sand pooling next to her most private of places was not something that Sara looked forward to.
Strapped into her uniform, Sara locked her web belt in place and attached a combination of special grenades and assorted equipment. She tucked her snub-nosed .38 into a holder on her ribs and picked up the imposing MP-5 from her bed. She had experience with this type of firearm while training with the SWAT division but had never taken one into action. Despite the improvement, Sara still preferred her normal weapon.
But she was afraid this high amount of firepower would be needed on this trip.
The two modern day warriors stepped into Hanger 17. The two looked about at the many technicians and various military personnel prepping for the impending mission. "How’s the ‘unfurnished basement’ situation?" Lara said, hoping to break the tension.
"This is going to take some getting used to," Sara said shifting her trousers. "Why do I get the feeling every GI Joe here is looking at me and knowing I’m not wearing?"
"Probably because they’re the one’s who gave me the tip," Lara said with a smirk.
"Seriously?"
"Rumor has it, Navy SEALs in Vietnam were famous for ditching their undergarments before going out on a mission. Kept sand, mud, and other rubbish from pooling in their crotch. They called it ‘Going Commando’."
Sara let out a short laugh, "And I thought it was just a phrase made popular by that Friends show."
Col. James Procter walked up to the two operatives with a curt smile. "How are we tonight, ladies?"
"Just discussing the finer points of dressing without underwear," Sara said flatly as if she were discussing something such as typewriter maintenance.
"Excuse me?" the Colonel said, shaking his head. He had clearly heard what the woman had said; he just couldn’t believe it.
"Nothing…" Sara said with a slight grin and a wave of her hand.
"So are we good to go?" Lara asked hoping to change the subject.
"Everything will be ready on schedule," the Colonel assured her as he guided the two women deeper into the hanger.
Hanger 17 was the classified home to the new Lockheed XZ-56 Raptor B.O.P Stealth Helicopter. The vehicle was fearsome in appearance. The flat black skin of the helicopter didn’t even have a hint of glare from the overhead lights. It was almost as if the craft absorbed light.
"She looks like the stealth fighter," Sara said, gazing in awe.
"Yes, the body style is very similar in design to the F-117A," the Colonel explained. "She’s been fitted with a dual cockpit for the pilot and a RIO officer, full weapons, and radar evasion equipment."
"What about the Sound-Hush running system on the rotor blades?" Lara asked.
Colonel Procter stopped in his tracks. "How did you know about that?"
"I’m friends with the man who invented the system," Lara said. "Lockheed bought the patent off of him for a sizable amount. I saw the specs before they became classified."
"Well, the SHR "ShusHeR" propulsion unit is unbelievable," the Colonel complimented. "With the system properly calibrated, she could be hovering just over a hill and it would be doubtful a listening post could even pick her up."
Once they reached the Raptor, Procter introduced the two women to the flight crew. "Ladies, this is Captain Alan Haugness and Lieutenant Jerry Taylor. Haugness was the top pilot out of his class and Taylor is the best RIO officer in the business."
After a brief handshake and exchange of pleasantries, the pilots hustled off to run through their preflight inspection. As the pilots navigated around the aircraft, checking hatches and double-checking the securing of the ordnance, the Colonel went over the flight scenario. "In just under ten minutes, the entire base will be scrambled for an emergency exercise. Almost ninety percent of all the aircraft will lift off as if responding to a full declaration of war. With that many aircraft scrambling, one helicopter can easily escape notice. If there is anyone monitoring the base, chances are the helicopter will be forgotten in the confusion."
Procter continued, "Now, this bird’s been refitted to work as Long Range Reconnaissance, but the distance she’ll have to travel to deliver the payload and make her refueling depot on the U.S.S. Ticonderoga in the Gulf will push her to the edge of the envelop. She’s gonna coast in on fumes."
He looked at both women sternly and neither of their gazes faltered. "If she has to burn any unnecessary fuel, like to avoid enemy aircraft or ground fire, she may have to drop you early forcing you to hike in. More than likely this will not happen but I just want you to be forewarned."
"She’ll refuel on the carrier and begin her return trip. You’ll have exactly four hours to run through your objective. The margin of error is very slight. The Raptor will only be able to stay in the area to extract you out for eight minutes."
"That’s not a long time," Sara said after a quick sigh.
"It’s the longest she can stay in the area before radar will confirm her heat signature," he said. Looking at his watch, Procter said, "You better get strapped in ladies. We scramble in eight minutes. Good luck."
Turning with a smart military one-eighty, Procter stomped out of the hanger, moving with intent. Sara started up the ladder leading into the belly of the helicopter and Lara quickly followed but not before casting a long look back at the officer. He didn’t give her any time to say thank you. Lara knew how much Procter was risking to help her out with this operation. If his superiors discovered his misappropriations, he could lose his rank and possibly serve time in Leavenworth. She hoped the Colonel knew how much she appreciated this. With that hope, Lara headed up the ladder and towards her new found destiny.
The aircraft rocketed at impossible speeds at impossible altitudes. The helicopter moved silently across the pitch-black background, skimming less than five hundred feet off the ground. The only evidence of the craft streaking by to the casual ground observer would be the brief disappearance of stars as the classified helicopter passed between the viewer and the celestial bodies. The lack of light from the new moon and heavy cloud cover helped hide the craft even more. The Raptor was truly an exceptional piece of modern technology.
Captain Haugness navigated the Raptor with the gentle hand of a seasoned professional. His smooth minor course corrections made the ride almost tranquil and his nap of the earth flying was impeccable.
Sitting behind Captain Haugness from his elevated station, Lt. Taylor gazed over the muted green and red glow from his instrument panels and stared out to the desert landscape beyond, illuminated occasionally by the staggered flashes of lightning.
In the belly of the technological marvel, Lara Croft and Sara Pezzini sat dressed in their desert camouflage strapped into their parachutes. Neither said anything as the ship rocketed along. The thunderous silence was deafening. Knowing the delivery plan involved close to the earth flying, Sara was glad the cargo bay had no windows.
The pilots had reported early after take off that the scramble drill was executed perfectly back at Fort Edelman but neither of the pilots had made another peep over the communication net, either through their headphones or the internal intercom. The silence left the two women alone with only their thoughts.
The dim red lighting in the passenger bay cast eerie shadows about, cloaking the two women in crimson. The lack of the usual machine noise or the repetitive thrumming of rotor blades made the hold seem like a tomb. The ever-present high-pitched vibration of the blades was the only indication the aircraft was even functional.
Sara gazed up at Lara. The young adventurer sat with her hands resting in her lap and her eyes lightly closed. Lara had not made any attempts at conversation or even a sound. Sara assumed this was how she prepared herself mentally for an excursion like this. Sara marveled at the woman’s strength. Lara had to be one of the toughest women she had ever met, but the hard existence of her life couldn’t have allowed for many friends. The detective believed that Lara’s way had to be a difficult way to live.
Suddenly, green lights flooded the cabin and her radio earpiece came alive. "Operatives, we are ten minutes from drop zone. On the ready line."
The women moved into position and double-checked each other’s parachute rig. "Will these plastic rigs hold up to this kind of stress?" Sara asked over the hiss of the compartment decompressing.
"No question. We need the lack of metal to pass through possible radar nets," Lara said. "Are you ready?"
"I don’t know. I’m still not comfortable with this High Altitude Low Opening procedure," Sara said, shaking her head. "Do we have to pull so low?"
"We have to pull late to remain undetected. Just link up with me early and we’ll pull together," Lara said with a stern look of confidence.
Sara cracked a slight smile and locked in her helmet. Lara’s overwhelming confidence was extremely contagious and Sara believed that the two of them could face whatever danger they came up against. And then the bomb bay door opened.
Abdula Mesagarani took a long drag from his cigarette. The night was impossibly boring. With the United Nations’ No-Fly Zone was still in effect, his work at the Sector K-26 Radar Station had turned monotonous, with no present activity. Luckily, his country and the UN seemed to be drawing closer to a negotiation. His first son had just reached his first month of life and he didn’t like the idea of heading into another war.
An impending storm was rolling in from the east, causing havoc with his equipment. There was a brief blip on the southeastern section of the screen, but it had disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. It was probably just a glitch, but better safe than sorry. He took another drag from his stale cigarette and activated his communications headset.
The Raptor finished its long, gentle ascent to a safe jump altitude. Both the pilot and the RIO Officer held their breath knowing it was this critical time when their aircraft would be the most vulnerable. Landing the craft was too dangerous, allowing a parachute jump as the only insurgence method.
The stealth helicopter nimbly pivoted into its delivery position. Lt. Taylor activated his com-link with the "cargo." "Operatives, you are free to go."
"Thanks for the ride, gentlemen. We’ll see you and the pick-up in four hours," Lara said.
"Affirmative."
Communication was cut and the two pilots could only assume they had dropped their payload. Their midnight chutes would blend into the darkness, leaving the crew to hope everything went well. They would know in four hours.
Capt. Haugness turned the nose of the aircraft to the south and increased speed. A sudden desert storm was rolling in from the east and Capt. Haugness was hoping to outrun it. Suddenly from the west, the night was lit up by the distinct fire trails of five Surface-to-Air Missiles and the tracer fire from various AAA bunkers.
The SAMs streaked irregularly about in the dark sky as their heat sensors began searching for a target. The Iraqis must have fired them blind in the hopes of hitting something. The peppered spray of bullets snaked up at the helicopter.
The random fire was intense and Capt. Haugness put the aircraft through various maneuvering paces to avoid the bombardment. Then several warning buzzers screamed to life. Both men knew the heat seeker had locked on to its target.
Stealth technology was wonderful to avoid radar, but fully cloaking their heat signature was next to impossible. This random spray was about to become a lucky gamble. The warning moved to faster blips until it was a long steady whine.
Lt. Taylor mashed the activating buttons to eject the counter-measures but he was afraid he had acted too late.
Thirty seconds. In the real world, it never seemed like a long time. It was a cycle through the network stations looking for a good show to watch. A stop at a stoplight. If you were lucky, waiting to get your order at the drive-thru window. But as Sara Pezzini plunged through the darkness of the night sky, hurtling towards a ground she couldn’t see, thirty seconds seemed like a lifetime.
Looking at the soft green light from her altimeter, she saw it was time. The ripcord slid easily from its holster and the midnight chute opened with ease. Falling to the earth Sara looked to find her partner. Suddenly, the world erupted in a wash of hissing gunfire and luminous streams from the tracer fire.
As the bullets sailed overhead, they illuminated the night sky allowing Sara to see Lara only dozen or so feet above and behind her. The roaring continued as several missiles sped from their launchers.
Both Lara and Sara hit the ground running. Both managed to come clean of their chutes and turn in time to see a large fireball explode against the night sky. "My God…" Sara whispered.
Chunks of debris rained from the explosion to the sand below. "We have to head over there," Sara said spinning to Lara who was calmly rolling up her chute.
"We don’t have time. It’s out of the way."
"Out of the way? They could have ejected. They could be hurt," Sara argued.
"I guess the wreck is five miles away and to the southeast. I just checked the GPS. We’re off by about three-quarters of a mile," Lara clarified. "The location we need is to the north."
"Your point?"
"We only have four hours to get in and out."
Sara grew enraged, "And what if that was our ride home. I’m going after them…"
Lara grabbed Sara by the arm and spun her around as she turned to leave. "The mission we are on is more important that the lives of those two pilots. If they are dead, I’m sorry and I will make it up to their families later but right now I have a mission of the utmost importance. Lives hang in the balance, Ms. Pezzini. Do you want to try to save two at the expense of millions?"
Both women stood toe-to-toe, neither backing down. Finally Sara averted her gaze. She sighed and said, "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few."
"Exactly."
"Then we better get going."
Lara headed off into the night at a slow jog. Sara took one last look at the flaming wreckage and headed off into the night. She prayed that wasn’t the chopper that was hit, but what else could it have been? She steeled her will and focused on the matter at hand.
The two women belly crawled up the steep dune and stared to the valley below. Through the infrared binoculars, Lara could easily distinguish the features of the lost tomb. She passed the binoculars over to Sara, "Have a look."
"What am I looking at exactly?" Sara asked after taking in the scene.
Lara double checked her weapon as she explained, "The tomb must have been hidden under the sand until she was uncovered in a recent sandstorm. In between the large circular towers in front will be the main entrance. The many spikes running along the upper walls and parapets are darker than the rest, probably red, I can’t tell in the infrared."
"What’s the red signify?"
"My guess would be blood. Qavar Kaimen was reputed to be very cruel in her punishments. It stands to reason. The problem is the ornate sigils on the ceiling."
"The theory?"
"I think it’s a containment spell," Lara said clicking off her safety.
"A spell? What? Like magic? You’re kidding, right?" Sara said with an arched eyebrow.
"You wear a living gauntlet on your right hand and you don’t believe in magic?" Lara said looking at Sara’s hand.
Sara took her gaze from the binoculars to look at her own arm. Her hand and forearm were now covered in the metal of the mystical gauntlet. Tendrils seemed to snake up her biceps and onto her shoulder, covering her in a form of living armor. "It senses battle."
"Me too," Lara said and she chambered the first round.
"What’s that activity on the ridge?" Sara asked returning to the binoculars.
"Military guards have set up bivouacs on that outer ridge to keep the area secure," Lara said scanning the horizon.
"Not much activity within the valley itself," Sara noticed.
Lara nodded her head approvingly. For an operative without much field training, Sara clearly held her own. Her detective skills were definitely in high gear. Curious to see Sara’s appraisal of the situation, Lara asked, "Why do you think that is?"
"Well the infrared doesn’t make it real clear, but it looks like several pairs of tracks heading into the structure but not as many coming back out," Sara said taking her gaze from the valley. "Once this place was discovered a couple units were probably sent to investigate. Some went in, not as many came back out."
Lara finished her thoughts for her, "So the troops moved as far away as they could from the structure but still remained in view of the temple so as not to violate their orders."
"With them spread out like that, slipping through their defenses shouldn’t be too hard," Sara guessed.
"I’ve gotten into tougher spots. My only fear is the placements of their heavier firepower. It’s pointed into the valley. Not a normal defensive position," Lara warned. "Its like they’re planning to keep whatever’s in there in, not keeping others out. I spotted a couple 50-Cals and even a few mortar launchers. "
"So the approach should be simple enough, but the sprint from the valley ridge to the structure is not going to be a picnic," Sara said.
Lara glanced at her watch; "We’re almost down to three and a half hours. Let’s get it over with."
Lara dove behind the soft dune and rolled up against the smooth cut stone of the burial tomb. Sara moved in just a hair’s breath behind her. Looking back to the guard position of the closest bivouac, no odd movements or signals were present. Apparently the duo had made it to the temple itself without being noticed by the perimeter guards.
Moving with as much speed as possible but still maintaining their level of silence, the two adventurers arrived at the mouth of the tomb. Lara barely had time to glance at all the intricate carvings along the entranceway, knowing time was against them and one observant sentry could blow the whole deal.
A stray solider answering nature’s call had delayed them considerably and a roving patrol of well armed guards forced them to half bury themselves in the loose sand, costing them a good quarter of an hour. But now, they faced the real test, the tomb beyond.
Lara began to skulk into the tomb when Sara roughly pulled her back from the entrance. Sara made a quick point to the corner of the opening and Lara saw her cause for alarm. The tripwire connected to the large amount of explosives probably wouldn’t have left more than a greasy smear had Lara taken another step.
The raw amount of explosive sitting in the entranceway was a high cause for alarm. Whatever was located within the tomb was obviously something the Iraqi troops didn’t want coming out. And they were about to march right into its very lair.
The Iraqi commander saw the two ghosts moving against the backdrop of the night. He sat within the concealment of one of the makeshift camps, gazing at the two shadows through the telescopic sight of his sniper rifle.
This was a curious event that had to be handled with the most delicate of care. Placing the crosshairs on the neck of one of the shades, he watched as the two operatives dismantled the explosive at the entrance.
He had lost too many men in the mysterious structure already and if these two ops could pull any artifacts from the temple he could easily claim responsibility. A small smile creased under his pencil thin mustache.
Having made it through the initial opening, Lara and Sara moved into the first area of the crypt. With Lara to the right and Sara to the left, both women made sweeping passes with their MP-5s braced firmly against their shoulders. Both women kept their fingers on the trigger guards, but both were ready to fire at a moment’s notice.
With the area apparently free of threats, Lara was able to take in the astonishing details. The circular domed room had impossibly intricate carvings and detailed sculpture placed about the room. The hair stood up on the back of Lara’s neck. She knew something had to be slightly off about the crypt but she couldn’t place it.
The domed room appeared to be the center of the crypt, but four detailed passageways lead off in cardinal directions. They had arrived through the southern passage and Lara could only guess what lay beyond the other darkened passageways.
Darkness enveloped the passageways and rooms beyond but the main chamber was cast in a curious blue glow. Looking to the ceiling, Lara noticed several holes sealed with immense sapphires. The light from above filtered through the stones and into the room below, giving everything within a cerulean tint. In the darkness of the night, the light was subtle but present. Lara wonder what the room looked like under the full light of the noonday sun.
Sara stuck to the perimeter and traced her hands along some of the figures carved into the walls. The smooth-cut stones were all uniform in size and appearance. Sara couldn’t imagine the manpower needed to create such a structure, especially one with such meticulous crafting. The constant running theme of all the hieroglyphics was the mysterious gauntlet that Sara now wore on her right hand.
Moving deeper into the structure, both women noticed the signs of a struggle. Blood had freshly stained the floor and sections of the lower walls. Lara moved brashly to the center of the room where the sarcophagus was located. Unlike the Well of Shan Zanar, the coffin of the sorceress was actually placed in the center of the tomb, flush with the floor.
As Lara walked to the center, slight puffs of sand swirled through the air, disturbed by her trespass. Aggravating the thin layer of dust and sand, Lara discovered the ring of concentric circles on the floor of the main chamber, just as she had seen on Mandel’s videotape.
As Sara continued to study the walls, Lara was already setting up. She set her backpack on the ground and pulled out two sets of goggles, a device that looked like a glossy snub rifle with a long flat nozzle, and a large cylindrical canister attached as the stock of the weapon. She tossed the spare pair of goggles to Sara after finally being able to draw her attention from the walls. The actual evidence of a previous owner of the Witchblade was just too tempting to ignore.
"What is that thing?" Sara asked fixing her goggles in place.
"Think of it as a excessively high powered vacuum," Lara said smacking the canister into the bracket. Despite its appearance, the vacuum was whisper quiet as it set about absorbing the sand from the floor. Luckily, Mandel’s team had already excavated a large portion of the sand, but with no apparent regular activity within the tomb, a fine layer of sand had covered the entire floor.
While Lara moved about the tomb, Sara pulled out the laser imaging system from her backpack. Lara had already run down the instructions on the device and Sara set about scanning the etching on the floor and walls.
After a brief stint, Lara had the room completely cleared except for the sticky blood splattered sand. Working behind Lara, Sara finished scanning the area and began transmitting the data.
The Iraqi commander watched as the two teams converged at the entrance of the tomb. Their ordered were specific: move to the opening without entering the tomb, intercept and eliminate the invaders, and confiscate any findings.
He gently filed off the imperfections of the high caliber round and locked the bullet into place. He sighted the entrance of the tomb through the sniper scope and patiently waited.
"Well this is damned peculiar," Lara said through clenched teeth.
She had tracked the entire line of concentric circles, walking the complete floor, leaving no sigil unexamined. Yet, she didn’t recognize any of these symbols, save one at the center, just before the coffin. And the symbol that she recognized was the one most out of place—the symbol of the great sorcerer Merlin. "I just don’t get it," Lara said.
"Lara?" Sara asked flashing glances from the ceiling to the walls to the floor. Lara swung her head up from her scrutiny of the floor symbols to look at the young detective.
Sara Pezzini had difficulty hiding the fact that she was remarkably out of place. She had studied the blood and potential tracks and had attempted to identify the fight causing the blood. Lara guessed that she had done so in an attempt to feel useful.
"I’m no archeological major," Sara said staring at the sigils, "but I don’t think these symbols match."
"What?"
"Well, look at it like a computer system. It’s like the writer switched fonts."
Lara took a second look through a new perspective. "I think your right. How did I miss that?"
The detective was right. The symbols on the walls and ceiling were very straight cut and solid, yet the emblems on the floor had sweeping and swirling designs. Lara went back, looking over the inner most ring having Merlin’s symbol. That had to be the key.
With Lara engrossed in the ring, Sara continued to look about the chamber. She moved to the eastern wing, peering down the long hallway. The thick gloom was impenetrable and there was no breeze or smell.
Moving to the northern section, she saw mysterious glints of light just beyond the gloom, Sara had started down the passage when Lara yelled in success. Turning back, Sara saw the center section raising up out of the floor.
With the grating of stone against stone, the eight-foot diameter stone dais gently wound from the floor to a height of almost ten feet. Magically, several torches within the column burst to life, revealing a passageway within the dais itself. The stone passageway spiraled down below the crypt.
The two women looked at each other and hefted both their weapons to a ready position. Lara clicked her safety off and began to head down the cool passageway. Suddenly, Sara violently shoved Lara into the passageway. Before Lara could even voice an objection, Sara brought her MP-5 to bear and riddled off a dozen bullets.
Then Sara disappeared behind a wash of muscle and flesh…
In the few adventures she had been on with Sara Pezzini, Lara had noticed the young detective’s assertive and confident attitude. Sara enjoyed being in charge, in command. But on the majority of this trip, Sara had been a bit of a fifth wheel.
She needed help with the parachuting. Military tactics weren’t the same as police investigations. And archeology wasn’t even close to her area of expertise. But when Lara finally made it back up into the main room, she could tell Sara was finally in her element.
Sara was coated in a purple ichor and standing over a mysterious body. Her clothes were torn and her Witchblade had now formed a protective armor over most of her vital areas and exposed flesh.
Keeping her MP-5 firmly pressed against her shoulder Lara slowly walked towards the body Sara was perched over. She took in the display over the gun sight of her submachine gun. The creature was beyond belief.
The creature looked to be formed of solid muscle, its outer flesh swollen with strength and accentuated with grotesque bulging purple veins. But its physical structure was even stranger. The body appeared to be two upper torsos sewn together at the waist with bulging arms. The body had no lower body and no head.
"What the hell is this thing," Sara asked with fueled rage still smoldering in her eyes.
Lara looked up at Sara from her kneeling position as she studied the body. "I don’t know."
"So what does the Frankenstein monster, hidden chambers, and mysterious temples have to do with the Witchblade anyway?" Sara asked with a slight edge in her voice.
"I never said I could deliver immediate answers Sara. We’ll have to take the laser reading, analyze them back at Hans’ database, make analysis…"
"So you’re telling me my excursion here was worthless. Mysterious creatures that run on four arms, are made up of solid muscle, and sense us even though they have no head are attacking me.
"You know what I think. I’m not gonna stick my neck out for you unless I start getting some answers or you start sharing in the combat." Lara stood up to her full height as Sara continued to bow up. An unmistakable fire burned within Sara pupils as she spat out with venom in her voice. "This never had anything to do with me or the Witchblade, did it? You just needed a partner to help you out because it was too dangerous to do alone and you used the Witchblade to get me here. Face it, I’m just here to cover you’re as…"
Lara’s magnum leapt from her hips and into her hands and she fired.
The Iraqi commander swiveled to stare down at the tomb. The sound of gunfire clamored from within the structure, drawing the attention of the soldiers positioned around the perimeter.
They knew that sound all too well. The monsters within were at work again and it would be over soon enough. They heard the same sound when they lost half of their squad in the same fashion.
Looking about, the commander saw the squad visibly relax. He still kept himself at the ready, but had not yet found a reason to keep his men on their toes. He had an unshakeable feeling that this was not over.
Sara looked down at her stomach to find where the bullet had penetrated. She stared at her hands expecting to see blood staining her palms. She looked up to see the smoke steaming off the barrels of Lara’s magnums and the stern look across her visage. The scariest look was in her eyes.
They were extremely focused, hawk-like in appearance. They stared deep into her soul, deep into her, behind her. That’s when Sara turned to see the bullet riddled body of a second monster quivering spasmodically behind her.
"Care to explain that?" Lara said staring Sara down from under her eyebrows.
"I’m sorry," Sara said, shifting her view from Lara to the second creature now lying still on the cold stone. "Sometimes I get hit with these emotional rushes. Makes PMS look like a gentle mood swing. It happens."
"From the Witchblade?"
"Yeah. The connection with this burial place must be intensifying its effects. I apologize. It must be…" And Sara trailed off.
Lara felt her hair on the back of her neck stand up and she turned to assess the situation. From the shadows, figures lurked. They moved at an irregular gait, able to change direction instantaneously. Lara watched them move, bounding about on their four strong arms, giving the creatures a form similar to that of a hairless simian. And Lara saw several.
Without speaking, acting only on instinct, both women drew forth their MP-5s and positioned themselves back to back. And then the battle began.
The Iraqi commander looked up from lighting his cigar at the sound of warfare. Echoes of supersonic explosions could be heard in the tomb as the corridors carried the sounds of battle. Silenced fire, pistol fire and even the occasional shotgun blast. Indeed, the shadows had survived the first encounter and gotten farther than any others before them. But now, it appeared they had further challenges ahead of them.
"I always felt I was born in the wrong era."
"What?" Lara said looking back over her shoulder.
Sara turned from her position monitoring the entrance of the secret passageway. The creatures still bounded about in anger unable to fit down the narrow passageway. Sara’s laser sight bounced off their muscled flesh but she kept her trigger in check. "You’ve never felt that way? That maybe you should have been born in another time. Just think, if you would have been born, say, fifty years ago, you could have been in on archeology before it became all about money and fame."
"I’ve kept honest," Lara said making her way down the shaft.
"I’ve finally put it all together, Lara," Sara said.
"Figured what out?" Lara asked.
"I used to watch all those cop shows as a kid, Starsky and Hutch, Shaft, Charlie’s Angels. And in everyone of those shows, there was the inevitable moment where the cop had to throw down his gun because the bad guy had the drop on him."
Sara looked back to make sure the entrance was still secure and continued, "Let’s say there’s a hostage situation and the wild maniac has keys to a nuclear weapon and a hostage and he’s about to board the getaway plane," Sara hypothesized.
Lara remained silent as she studied the etchings on the wall while Sara continued with her question. "You’ve got your gun trained on him and he tells you to put it down or he blows the hostage away. Do you drop the gun?"
"I’m the last hope to stop the man?" Lara asked.
"Yep."
"I risk the head shot."
Showing no surprise, Sara asked, "What about the hostage?"
"Acceptable loss."
"Try explaining that to the family."
"Try explaining the maniac getting away, detonating the nuclear device, and killing millions. One life to save a million." Lara said, sounding somewhat cold.
"Today’s heroes I guess." Sara said.
Lara stopped and turned to look Sara in the eyes. In the half-light, Sara could still see the sense of intensity on the adventurer’s face. "I’ve killed several people in my line of work. I never felt good about it. I didn’t choose the way I operate. The world chose for me. I just react to save my own hindquarters. And sacrificing one innocent to save thousands is the price we have to pay, because it’s the quote-unquote bad guys who have upped the stakes. And the heroes are forced to react more aggressively to resolve situations."
"That’s why you had to leave the chopper pilots behind. Whatever is in this temple is more important than the lives of those two men, right?" Sara said with a slow look of recognition and understanding.
"I’m afraid it is."
"Then let’s get this over with."
And the two women descended to their destiny.
The bullets whizzed passed the dune spraying thin washes of sand over Lara and Sara. Pulling Sara to safety over the dune had been more difficult and more time consuming than Lara had anticipated. Several troops were moving into position around their flank. Lara raised up and riddled the flank with bursts from her MP-5, to let the troops know they were still kicking. She hit the deck in time to avoid the volley of returned fire.
"Well great," Lara said through clenched teeth. "Sara, are you still with me?"
She cradled the gun in one hand against her hip, freeing up her other hand to run over Sara. She didn’t appear to be bleeding but she was gasping irregularly. After a quick diagnosis, Lara sighed. Luckily, she just had the wind knocked out of her.
With her partner’s health in check, Lara raised up and finished off her clip at the ridge. "I’m clean," Sara said through ragged gasps. "The way I got hit, I swore at least three bullets hit me."
Sara rolled over on her stomach to get into a kneeling position. That when Lara saw the bullet holes. The bullets had made contact. Luckily, they punched into Sara’s radio instead of her spine.
Lara grimaced at the revelation. She was happy Sara wasn’t hurt, but the opposition had just upped the ante. With the radio out, they had no way to update the incoming chopper with a sit-rep, if there even was a chopper coming at all.
Dawn was beginning to break, making their situation all the more perilous. Getting out of the tomb had not been easy with an assortment of troops waiting for them. The arrival of reinforcements had cut their route to the primary LZ. Fortunately, Sara’s well-placed shots had crippled the vehicles making everyone resort to traveling on foot, but they were still hopelessly outnumbered.
Regaining her bearings, Sara rolled from her prone position and helped Lara spray the area with gunfire, keeping the enemy pinned down. But regardless of their efforts, the Iraqi army still moved in to circle their position.
"This is not getting any better, Lara," Sara said through clenched teeth and bullet bursts. The enemy was closing in too quickly for Lara to check her compass and the heavy cloud cover obscuring the sun made it difficult to calculate direction. "We’ve got to get out of here!"
"All right, team off. You run, I’ll cover and will switch at every dune. Keep their heads down and head for that ridge," Lara said pointing to an elevated stone ridge almost a half-mile away.
"We’ll have to hurry before those troops outflank us and beat us there," Sara said agreeing with the plan.
The women moved out, covering each other’s movements as planned, emptying salvos of bullets at the incoming forces. They moved as quickly as possible but still remained just beyond the enemy troops. Bullets continued to rain in, spraying washes of sand over the two women.
Just as they moved to the ridge, to take the access route through the crags of rocks leading to the top of the plateau, hails of mortar fire began raining in around them. Before the impact of the first round, both had heard the unmistakable whistle of incoming rounds and sought cover. But now they were pinned and it was only a matter of time before the lethal rounds pounded them to dust.
The Iraqi commander observed the proceedings through the high-powered scope of his sniper rifle. He quickly shouted out orders to his NCOs and radioed the strategy to the other troops. The mortar fire had been strategically positioned and he now had the interlopers in a bottleneck. Their path for higher ground had now led them into a valley, which his troops now controlled. He radioed to take the prisoners alive and unharmed if necessary. He would discover the riddle of the forgotten tomb and ascertain its true value.
The final moment was upon them. Surrounded, outgunned, and pinned against an outcropping of rocks, both women knew it was judgement day. Sara and Lara quickly glanced into each other’s eyes. Even though the look lasted only a brief instant, hundreds of emotions were conveyed as both answered the other’s question. There would be no surrender. They would punch death repeatedly in the throat as he dragged them away. The two women raised their weapons as the troops flooded the bottleneck.
Every shot was a mortal blow. For every bullet fired, an enemy solider fell. Both women couldn’t help but feel the hand of fate guiding their aim. While lasting a minute at most the final stand seemed like an eternity. Then the inevitable happened; both women heard the hollow click of empty chambers as their machine gun ammo exhausted. There was just two many targets.
Pinned at the base of the plateau, Lara drew out her service pistol and chambered the slide of the .45. Switching the gun to her left hand, she drew her knife for the melee of closer combat. Sara had already ditched her empty MP-5 and increased the coverage of her Witchblade armor.
They would die hand to hand like warriors… but not today.
The Raptor BOP burst from the low-level clouds spraying the area with twenty-millimeter shells from its nose-mounted cannon. Lara and Sara watched as the bodies of the troops fell in the bursts of sand from the shower of the cannon. Finally, things were going their way. The helicopter moved into position firing off several well-targeted missiles at strategic positions. The bomb bay door on the helicopter’s underbelly opened and lowered the wire-rope ladder.
Sara snatched the ladder in one swipe and quickly began her accent. She moved as quickly as possible pumping hand over hand. Looking down, she saw Lara snag the ladder and prepare to make the climb. Then she heard the roar of heavy caliber fire. Looking to the right, she saw the group with the fifty-caliber rifle opening up on the stealth helicopter.
The sudden attack forced Capt. Haugness to pivot and draw their cannon to bear on the hillside. Another quick burst from their cannon dispatched the problem, but damage had been done. The fuselage had taken damage and the forced maneuver had almost thrown Sara from the ladder.
Sara gasped in horror as she looked below to see Lara slung to the earth. In this precarious position she was unable to maintain a grip on the ladder. More bullets rained in and in the distance Sara could hear the approaching roar of incoming planes. More soldiers began to pour in as Sara finally made it into the cargo hold of the helicopter.
Once inside, Sara was able to communicate with the pilots. She could hear Lt. Taylor over the intercom, "Is Lara on?"
"No! Take it lower! We have to get her out of there!" Sara screamed.
"Captain, those Migs are supersonic. Their gonna be here in thirty seconds," Taylor said.
The three could hear the pings of bullets bouncing the radar absorbing skin of the aircraft. Sara could see where this was heading. "We can’t leave her! Dammit Captain, she’s dead if we leave!"
"If we don’t leave now we’re all dead!" Capt. Haugness said over his mike.
The nose of the Raptor slung sharply as the decision was made. Sara watched in stark horror as Lara’s image got smaller and smaller. She could see the small dots of the swarming troops surrounded her. Sara prayed she was taken captive and not executed but displaced the thought wondering if execution would be more merciful.
Captain Haugness, Lieutenant Taylor, and Sara Pezzini returned to Fort Edelman, none uttering a single word.
Hans Warsteiner sat with his head cradled in hands. He guessed that in military situations, things like this eventually happened. He was sure this was not the first time an operative had been left behind, but it was the first time it had been a friend of his.
Lara was more important to him than he had let her know, and he was afraid he might never get the chance now. But the one thing Hans had never been was a quitter. He slid to one of his computer terminals in his main office and switched the system on. As a covert operative, Hans had often worked for The Group, supplying members with equipment and insights. He was upping the timetable a bit but favors had to be called in.
The system finally booted up and established set Internet connections. The black screen displayed a large oroborous in the center of the screen with stark white letters with the center of the circle formed by the eternal snake, eating its own tail. Unfortunately, for Hans, the time was no longer near. The time was now.
Welcome Hans. There are 610 days remaining.
More Ravings from Ryan
In an article about creative writing, I received some pretty valuable advice about how to become a better writer: read. That’s all. Read. It really makes sense. If you read how the professional writers do it, their techniques and tricks will rub off on you. The trick is to take what you learn and mold it into your own style, so it doesn’t look like you’re copying them.
Now, I’ve placed the READ rule into effect, when it comes to my writing. If you’d like to know who my teachers were, you should check out some of these great storytellers and their novels:
Terry Goodkind—the Sword of Truth Saga: Mr. Goodkind is the possibly the greatest author I have ever read. His novels include Wizard’s First Rule, Stone of Tears, Blood of the Fold, and the Temple of the Winds. Don’t let the imposing size of these novels deter you from reading this impressive series. Each book starts and ends with the next chapter in the series, so just when you think you’ve finished you only just begun.
Mr. Goodkind’s descriptive style is unlike any I have ever read. He picks just the right language to vividly describe a situation yet not get bogged down with too many details. He’s a real page-turner. These books suck your soul because once he finally answers a question, two more pop up. His sword and sorcery story is the coolest I’ve ever read. He is one helluva author.
R.A. Salvator—the Forgotten Realms: Mr. Salvator is the creator of Drizzt Do’urden, a dark elf ranger who is the single greatest character I’ve ever read. His books include the Icewind Dale Trilogy, the Dark Elf Trilogy, and the continuing saga of Drizzt, totaling ten novels and Number 11 in the works. I’ve got his latest series with Del Rey but I haven’t had a chance to dive into it yet.
Michael Crichton—Jurassic Park: Best known for Jurassic Park, Crichton has such a wide range of stories, his imagination must be unbelievable. Everything he touches turns to goal: ER, Twister, Rising Sun, Eaters of the Dead, etc. He blends cool text with realistic dialogue and scientific information.
Kevin J. Anderson—The X-Files: Famed author of Star Wars and the X-Files novels, Mr. Anderson has grasped the perfect image of Mulder and Scully. I’ve only seen one other author so seamlessly transferred characters from the screen to the page; and that author is…
William Shatner—Star Trek: The infamous James T. Kirk’s novel The Return was one of the best sci-fi novels I had ever read. Mr. Shatner gave Kirk the fitting death he deserved and finally united the old and new generations in a way fitting of the legendary series.
Tom Clancy—Red October: I was never a huge fan of Mr. Clancy. I always felt he was too technical and loaded up too much on descriptive language. Then my mom gave me a book called Without Remorse. Mr. Clark is one of the best "real-life" operatives I’ve ever read.
If your looking for great reads, these are some the best and worth checking out. More informative tidbits next time. Later.
Ryan Foley