Chapter Ten

"Jeeves! She's got another gun!"

Susan heard Lara's shouted warning. But it was already too late, because just as Susan pulled the weapon free of her boot she dived to the side and rolled over, wincing at the pain in her side. Somewhere behind her she heard the boom of the shotgun and one part of her mind registered shock that the old man had really fired the thing.

Jeeves had been taken by surprise by the sudden move and discharged both barrels of the old 20 gauge weapon purely on instinct…right at where Susan had been an instant before. The cloud of buckshot spread rapidly as it left the barrel of the gun, but by the time it had closed the distance Susan was out of the line of fire.

Recovering rapidly, Jeeves broke open the shotgun and reached into his pocket for another pair of shells. It took time…time that Jeeves didn't have. Susan scrambled to her feet and the Beretta lifted directly at the white-haired man on the steps. Her finger tightened on the trigger and the gun roared, a lead slug leaping from the gun in a flash of orange flame.

But just as she fired, a white-hot stab of pain lanced through her side, for Susan had had to twist to bring the gun around and it tore her wound open a bit more. She had flinched at the sudden agony and her attention was distracted momentarily from the target in front of her.

In shooting a handgun, the slightest movement on the shooter's part makes a big difference when the bullet reaches the target. In was no different this time, and the bullet that would have stuck Jeeves in the chest hit the wooden stock of the shotgun instead, driving splinters into his hand and richocheting into Jeeves' shoulder, knocking him back onto the steps.

Susan lined up the gun for another shot, but movement to her right caught her attention. Too late, for just as she was bringing the gun around, Lara Croft's hand closed around Susan's wrist, forcing the weapon to the side and shoving her backward.

Susan grabbed the gun with both hands, ignoring the pain in her side, and tried to bring it into Lara's stomach. "I'm gonna kill you, Croft!"

"Oh, I think not, Susan," Lara replied tersely as they struggled for possession of the weapon. Keeping out of the line of fire, she stepped into the older woman and put her foot behind Susan's leg. A quick shove and Susan toppled over and landed heavily on her back, Lara landing on top of her a split second later, still groping for the gun.

Another wave of agony shot through Susan's side in protest and her struggles for the gun weakened. Croft had the upper hand and if she couldn't do something quickly it was all over.

Pinned under Lara's weight, movement was difficult at best; there was no leverage at all. Finally, in desperation, Susan yanked hard on Lara's hair, forcing her head back and to the side as a startled cry broke from her lips. With the red-haired woman off-balance, Susan pulled harder and finally managed to push Lara to the side. Following quickly, Susan let go of the hair and drove her fist into the side of Lara's head, right in front of her ear.

The result was instantaneous. Lara let go of the gun and fell to her knees, stunned.

Almost too weak to capitalize on her temporary advantage, Susan staggered to her feet, the gun in her hand. Now, blast it, she was gonna finish what she came her to do. With a deep breath, she turned toward the woman at her feet. The back of Lara's head was only a meter away.

"This is it, Croft," she snarled. "Time to die."

She was just starting to bring up the gun when her peripheral vision caught a bright flash of light. The roar of a pistol followed instantly and something stuck Susan in the right shoulder. She was spun sideways from the impact and the pistol flew from her hand.

"That's enough, Susan." Ian McPherson's voice was like a cannon shot in the suddenly quiet room. Turning slowly around, she saw him advancing into the room, the pistol held in both hands.

"Confound it, Lass. What the heck are you doing? What's got into you?"

Susan didn't answer, her eyes drawn to the Uzi lying on the floor a few meters away.

"Miss Lara? Are you all right."

"I'm alive, Ian," she replied, still on her hands and knees, her eyes closed. "Please look at Jeeves. He saved my life a moment ago."

"I, too, am alive, thank you, Miss Croft," came the somewhat shaky reply. "But I fear I may need assistance in getting to my feet."

Keeping the gun pointed at Susan, Ian moved to the steps and up to where the old butler was sitting. Seeing a potential break, Susan slid sideways, half a meter closer to the Uzi. Now she was really hurting and felt herself getting cold.

Ian glanced back at her standing submissively and knelt by the bulter. "Let me see, Jeeves. Where are you hit?"

Susan slid another step toward the gun. And another. And soon it was right at her feet. The next time he glanced away….

He did and Susan reached down.

"Ian! Behind you!" Lara's voice, considerable stronger, cut though the night.

McPherson swung, his pistol already leveled in readiness. The Uzi in her left hand, Susan had not regained her feet when Ian shot her. Punched hard in the chest, she staggered backward, trying to stay on her feet. When she recovered her balance, Lara was right in front of her.

A small smile parted Susan's lips. "Well, at least you're going with me, Croft." With all her remaining strength she brought up the gun.

It was the last thing she ever did, for the next bullet from Ian's pistol struck Susan Oliver in the right temple, killing her instantly.

* * * * *

McPherson walked slowly down the steps, his weapon still pointed at the body on the floor. Reaching Susan a moment later, he removed the Uzi from her fingers and slid it away. That done, he turned to see his young employer trying to get to her feet. He crossed quickly to her and caught her just as she lost her balance.

"Here, Miss Lara, let me help you." He pulled her against him and guided her toward the steps, hearing sirens now in the distance. "Bloody cavalry, late as usual."

The arm around his back tightened. "I have all the cavalry I need right here, Ian McPherson." He looked down with a grin…to see the open admiration in her eyes. And something else, too, which caused him to look away quickly.

"I…uh…I'm just glad I could help, Miss Lara." He helped her sit down next to Jeeves, being careful to keep his eyes averted. "I'm going open the gate for the police, I'll be right back."

Ian McPherson jogged down the long driveway toward the main gate, wishing mightily that he had not looked at the torn nightgown.

* * * * *

By noon the next day, Hamilton Southby was frantic, pacing back and forth across his plush office with increasing urgency. Something must have gone wrong. Why didn't Susan call? Had she killed Ned and his men?

He crossed to the window. Confound the woman! He'd take it out of her hide for keeping him in suspence like this.

A door opened behind him. "Not now, blast it, Millie," he barked, turning around. "I told you…"

Standing in the open doorway was Lara Croft. A small smile on her face, the woman advanced into the room, closing the door behind her. "What's the matter, Southby? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Croft was taller than he remembered from their only meeting several years ago at a society dinner. A bit older, too and looking downright haggard. Jeans and a loose sweater over Reebok's made up her simple outfit. A small white bandage was conspiculous just above her hairline over her left eye. Her face was swollen on one side and in general she looked like she'd been kicked around quite a bit. By Susan? What the heck had happened?

"What do you want, Croft?" he demanded harshly. "You come to steal another treasure from me? I would have thought having the Scroll would be enough, even for you."

She crossed to the desk and stood across from him. Man, she looked beat up, he thought. She looks more like forty than thirty.

"I came to return something to you," she replied.

"You?" he taunted. "Return something to me? Who are you trying to kid?"

"I always believing in returning things to the rightful owner, Southby. Or at least as close as I can."

"Yeah? And just what is this valuable treasure you're just dying to give me."

Croft reached behind her and Southby's eyes bugged out when she brought out the gun.

"Now wait a minute, Croft," he said nervously, taking a step backwards. "You can't just walk in here and pull a gun on me. I'll have you arrested."

She glanced down at the gun and seemed surprised to find it pointing at Southby's stomach. "Oh? This?" She lowered the gun and waved a hand. "Oh, no, no. I didn't' come here to pull a gun on you, Ham. I wouldn't think of doing that."

She rolled the gun a couple of times over her forefinger and set it on the desk in front of him. "I came to return it to you."

His eyes narrowed. "That's not my gun, Croft, and you know it. It wouldn't be caught dead with no dinky-toy nine millimeter."

She leaned across the desk and the sweater seemed to get a little tighter. "I know that, Ham. It belonged to Susan. She won't be needing it anymore and since you hired her to kill me, I though I'd see if you have the guts to try yourself."

Southby backed away from the weapon like it was on fire. "What? You're crazy, Croft! I don't even know whose gun that is. I've never seen it before in my life."

She smiled, but it ended at her lips. "Nice try, Ham. But you're lying. Susan told me you hired her to kill me. And I know all about Ned Lewis, too. He's down at the morgue, in a box next to Susan's."

"Hearsay, Croft. You can't prove a thing. I don't know who this Susan Oliver is. I've never heard of her in my life. You're bluffing."

"You think so, Southby? Then please tell me how you know her last name. I never mentioned it."

Southby turned about three shades of purple. "I…I…"

She waved a hand, cutting off his protest. "Well, I think I'll just leave you to think about that." She turned and headed for the door.

"Now wait a minute, Croft…" he called after her.

She swung around. "What for, Southby? I know all I need to know and I'm sure the police will be very interested in what I have to say. You can explain it to them later. If you can, that is." Again she turned toward the door.

In a fit of rage, Southby snatched up the gun and leveled it at her back. "Not so fast, Croft."

She stopped with her hand on the doorknob and glanced back over her shoulder. "And now you're going to shoot me right in your own office?"

Southby reached down and pulled back the slide on the pistol, watching a live round eject from the side of it. He let go and the mechanism traveled forward, chambering another round.

He came around the desk, the gun pointed at her. "And just what makes you think I won't, Miss Croft. Didn't you notice how thick the walls are?"

She let go of the doorknob and turned to face him, a look of uncertainty on her face. "You can't be serious?"

He chuckled as he came toward her, now sure of his advantage. "Oh, indeed I am, Miss Croft. The carpet needs to be replaced anyway. A little blood more or less isn't going to matter one bit, if you know what I mean."

"But…"

"No, 'buts', Miss Croft. I've been meaning to settle with you for a long time." He watched with satisfaction as she backed up against the door, her face white. "And just for your information, that bookcase over there has one of those secret passages behind it, with a private elevator that leads to the basement and a private garage. So disposing of your body poses no difficulties whatsoever."

"So you're just going to shoot me right here and dispose of the body is that it?"

He shoved the pistol under her chin and pushed, forcing her head back. "It wouldn't take much, Croft. I'd love to just blow your brains all of the wall." He lowered the pistol. "But I think not. Actually, I think we'll just a take a ride out to a little place I know in the woods. There's a nice little pit there, right next to the cages of wolves. Need me to elaborate?"

"Nothing's too good for me, is that right?"

"Of course not, Miss Lara. It will be amusing to watch my furry friends tear you apart. A fitting end for an adventurer, is it not?"

"Well, if you have things planned so well, why did you send Ned Lewis and his thugs after me?"

"I didn't want to, Miss Croft. He blackmailed me into it, claiming he taped a conversation between myself and Susan. I had to let him try, but I told Susan to kill them all."

"And what was Susan's role in all of this?"

Southby sighed. "This conversation is becoming most boring, Miss Croft." He grabbed her by the arm and shoved her across the room. "Come along, we're going to go for a nice ride.

"So was Susan supposed to kill me or was it Ned?"

Southby stopped and turned to face her. "My dear young woman, you are so stupid. Susan's job was to kill them after they done away with you. Or to kill you if they failed."

Croft looked at him intently. "Thank you, Ham. That's all we needed to hear. You can come in now inspector."

Southby gaped in disbelief and Lara pulled down the front of her bulky sweater, just enough to show the microphone taped to her upper chest. "You're going to boil in your own words, Ham."

The door opened and three men came in. Two were in police uniforms, one with an Inspector's rank. The other was a big burley guy he'd never seen before. All were armed.

Southby looked from the men to the gun in his hand.

"The gun?" Croft's words were milk and honey. "It won't fire, Ham. We took the primers out of the bullets." She pulled the gun from his unresisting fingers, pulled back the slide and caught the ejected bullet, holding it up so Southby could see the hole where the primer had been.

Croft turned to the others. "Did you get enough, Inspector."

The police officer tipped his hat. "Thank you, Miss Croft, we did indeed. All on tape. Come along with us, Southby." The two men took him by the arms and led him toward the door. But just as they reached it, Southby broke away and whirled around.

"I'm going to get you, Croft! If it's the last blasted thing I do!"

"Not anytime soon, Southby," replied the Inspector and he and the other officer wrestled the former explorer outside.

Lara turned to the man standing by the door. "What's the matter?"

Ian McPherson wasn't happy. He pressed the safety on his pistol and returned it to his coat pocket. "You took a risk, Miss Lara. What if he had had another gun?"

"I wasn't worried, Ian. Because I knew you were outside. Ready to rescue me like you did last night."

He frowned. "I still think it was a risk."

She crossed to him. "It was a calculated risk. And it worked out, didn't it?"

He shrugged. "I suppose so."

She planted herself right in front of him and smiled up at him. "Can we go home now?

He finally relented and held out his arm. "Aye, lass," he said with a rueful grin. "It's more than past time." She took it and together they walked through the door.

A few months later, Hamilton Southby's office suite was leased to someone else.

Go to Chapter Eleven