Chapter Six

His head snapped around in surprise at the sound of shots somewhere in the house. Even in the library upstairs, Ned Lewis had no difficulty separating the pistol shots from the continuous roar of the automatic weapon. Blast! Croft must have gotten to her guns after all. In was unreal how lucky the woman was.

Moving quickly, he hurried for the stairs. So she had her guns, did she? Well, so what? He would enjoy watching the fear on her face when he took those prized pistols away from her. Or better yet, when he pulled them from her cold, dead fingers.

* * * * *

Simon and Arnie had just reached the door of the pistol range when the gunfire rang out above.

"C'mon!" shouted Simon and the two men raced up the steps toward the ground floor.

The sound of their footsteps faded away and the range area was left in dark silence. A full minute later, there was a small noise from the far end of the target area, and a dim light snapped on.

Lara Croft sat up on the sandy surface, shivering from lying on the cold ground, glad to be alive, but uncertain what to do next. Her fingers covered most of the flashlight, allowing only a narrow beam of light to escape.

The black wall that Simon had seen earlier was not, in fact, a wall, but the top of the bullet trap. Instead of being vertical, the wall sloped backward at a 45 degree angle, so that bullets hitting it were deflected down. Below the wall was a large pit, five feet deep and filled with three feet of sand to catch the bullets bouncing off the wall above. Lara had raced down the floor and jumped over the edge of the pit just before Simon and Arnie had entered the room. She had lain there silently, hoping fervently that the men would not search the open pit at the end of the range.

Like the men, she had heard the gunfire from upstairs, recognizing the sound of her 9mm pistols. Susan! Susan must have heard the shots and borrowed her guns. That must be where they were. And now she was fighting back. Suddenly Lara was afraid for her new assistant. She was a good shot to be sure, but she had never faced death before. Was she still alive? Where was she?

Suddenly she realized she couldn't just sit here and wait them out. She had to do something, and quickly, before Susan and Jeeves were killed. It might already be too late. An image of her old friend lying face down in a pool of dark liquid flashed through her mind, but she quickly forced it away. Jeeves had to be all right. He just had to be.

Getting to her feet, she brushed what sand she could from her nightgown and climbed out of the pit, still shivering from the cold. Maybe she could get to her bedroom and get her shotgun without being discovered, especially while Ned and his men were distracted.

* * * * *

The aluminum rod was about four meters long and had a small net attached to one end. It was normally used for removing debris from the bottom of the swimming pool. But at the moment Ned Lewis was using it to pull the floating body toward the edge of the pool. It was obviously Stegler. There were two closely spaced bullet holes in the middle of his back. Croft!

He heard footsteps behind him and whirled, bringing up his gun. His finger was tightening on the trigger when recognized Simon and Arnie.

"That's a good way to get yourself shot," he declared disgustedly, lowering the weapon.

Simon ignored the remark. "What happened, boss?"

"Beats me. C'mon, help me get him outta there."

Shortly they dragged Scott Stegler from the pool, and when they turned him over Ned's eyebrows shot up at the two additional pairs of bullet holes.

"Man," said Arnie in awe. "That Croft woman don't mess around."

"I told you she was dangerous. Now spread out and find her."

* * * * *

Hiding just inside the kitchen, the dark figure with the twin silver pistols watched silently as Ned and his men emerged silently from the pool area. That should slow them down a bit. And if they split up again…

The men crossed the large ballroom, headed for the front of the house. As they reached her end of the room she could hear Ned's voice.

"I'm gonna finish checking upstairs to see if anyone else is in the house. Simon, check Croft's office."

"But boss, I done checked it already."

"Check it again, just be sure. Then join me back upstairs. Arnie, check the kitchen, then watch the front door so she doesn't try to escape."

Susan pulled back from the doorframe and sucked in her breath as Arnie turned towards her. Her fingers closed around her pistols, but then she paused. She couldn't shoot. Ned and Simon were too close. If she fired, they would be on her in a flash. She looked around. Where could she hide? The kitchen was one big open space. The only other exit led to the front of the house where she would run smack into Ned.

And she didn't want to do that.

* * * * *

Lara stood at the entrance to the basement steps, listening for any noise. Hearing nothing, she darted across the corridor. Moving quietly, she approached the long staircase leading to the second floor. She was almost to the steps when she heard a noise. Glancing to her left, she saw the beam of a flashlight from the ballroom area. It was coming toward her and Lara realized she could never make it up the steps without being seen.

She glanced around. The only alternative to going back to the basement was her office, just off the main entrance. Quickly she hurried inside and quietly shut the door. Moving to her desk, she picked up the phone, hoping, but not really expecting that it would work. It didn't. She had thought of sending an email for help. But her computer equipment was just as dead as the phone system. Was there anything Ned hadn't thought of? And how had he managed to disable the alarm system as well as the phones and the electric service?

At that point, her adrenaline rush ended and she collapsed into her leather office chair, exhausted. There had to be something else she could do. Her eyes fell on the darkened pictures of her Silverado trip, hanging on the wall opposite her. She had faced death then, too, from Ned, and his boss Max. Somehow she had survived that encounter and …

Lara sat bolt upright, wide awake as her eyes traveled upward from the pictures. Of course! She got to her feet and crossed to the wall. Hanging on the wall above the pictures was a silver studded western-style gunbelt, identical to the one she had purchased for her trip to Silverado and given to Britches. And in the double holsters were two brand new Colt six-shooters. She had purchased them for her Wild West trip, but had not been allowed to carry them at the theme park. She had brought them home instead. They had never been fired.

Quickly she pulled the belt down from the wall and buckled it around her. Pulling open a cabinet door below, she began pulling out boxes, trying to remember where she had put the ammunition for the guns. Now at least she had a chance of helping Susan and Jeeves.

Then she froze at the sound of footsteps right outside her office.

* * * * *

Five kilometers away, a white Land Rover roared down the empty highway, far in excess of the speed limit. There was a grim expression on Ian McPherson's face as he drove the vehicle as fast as he dared on the narrow, winding road. A fully loaded MP-5 submachine gun lay on the seat beside him and a SigSauer P26 automatic pistol was tucked into his waistband.

The frantic call from Jeeves had awakened him from a sound sleep and it had taken half to minute to get the man calmed down enough to make sense. There had been gunfire in the house. All the lights and telephones were out. The more he heard, the more unbelievable it was. It was fortunate that Jeeves' personal cell phone had been on the nightstand next to his bed. Otherwise…

He had advised Jeeves to find a place to hide, then hung up. His next call was to the police. They were coming, but further away. Ian had struggled into the first clothes he could find and raced out the front door.

Lara! Oh, dear God. She was tough, wasn't she? She would put up a fight, wouldn't she. What if she was….

That thought tore into the very depths of Ian McPherson's soul. The image of her beautiful face swan before him. Strong, lively, courageous, graceful…the words just ran on and on.

Hang on, Lara! I'm coming. Please, lass, hang on.

* * * * *

Ned climbed the long staircase, frustrated almost to the point of distraction. He had never lost a man on a mission until he'd encountered Croft. Then Max was killed and now Scott. And all because of a blasted female. How the heck had she escaped from the truck? He'd fired more than twenty rounds into the cab. And she'd walked away unhurt?

I should've killed her in the mine shaft. She lying there, all tied up and all I could think about was touchy-feely. How stupid. I should have stuck a knife in her instead.

Ned Lewis made a vow. Before this night was over he would grab Lara Croft by that red hair of hers. Then he would yank her head back and pull his knife across her slender throat.

Slowly.

* * * * *

Arnie Wilsford stood in the entrance to the kitchen and swung his powerful flashlight back and forth. Nothing. The place was bare.

He advanced slowly into the room, the light in his left hand and his Uzi in the other. He swung his light toward the door leading outside. Still closed. The windows were intact, too. The cabinets looked too small to hide a person, but maybe he better…

"Arnie," a low voice called from behind him. "Don't shoot. It's Susan."

Startled he swung around, the light and weapon searching for the source of the sound. If it was Croft, he'd blow her away. After what she'd done to Scott…

"Don't shoot, Arnie," the voice repeated. "It's Susan Oliver."

"Susan?" He relaxed. "Where the heck are you?"

"Over here."

A small movement caught his eye. To his right was a small alcove with a large table. The flashlight beam caught the slender figure in the black jumpsuit rising from behind it.

He lowered the gun. "What are you doing here? You were supposed to wait in the utility room."

"I saw Croft go running up the hall and I was trying to follow her when I saw you coming. I was scared you might shoot me by mistake, so I hid here."

"You saw Croft? Which way did she go?"

"I…I'm not sure," Susan stammered. "I think she ran to the freezer. I heard the door close, but I…I was afraid to follow her. It looked like she had her shotgun."

A shotgun? That was bad news. "You think she's in the freezer?"

"I don't know, Arnie. It sounded like the freezer door slamming. Maybe you should check it?"

"Yeah. That's a good idea. You better stick with me, Susan. She's already killed Scott."

Susan's hand went to her mouth. "She did? That's awful."

"Well, we're gonna fix her good. C'mon." He gestured for her to follow him.

Susan walked around the table and Arnie's eyes widened at the sight of the silver pistols.

"Where'd you get the guns?"

Susan waved a hand. "I stole 'em from Croft." She took his arm. "Let's hurry, Arnie, so she doesn't get away."

Whatever Arnie was about to say was lost when he felt something very soft pressing on his arm. He glanced down to see Susan clinging tightly him, looking up with anxious eyes. "Hurry, Arnie. I'm scared."

Yeah. The sooner they settled with Croft the better. They made their way to the walk-in freezer, Susan holding his arm the whole way.

"You better stay back, Susan," he said when they reached the big white door. "Croft may not give up without a fight."

Susan's eyes grew wide and she let go of his arm. "Be careful, Arnie."

"Sure. Sure," he said, approaching the door cautiously.

"The electric lock won't work with the power off," said the voice behind him. "But there's a manual release under the handle."

Arnie swung the flashlight. She was right. He snapped off the light and stuck it in his pocket. Then with his left hand he slowly squeezed the door handle, the Uzi in his other hand ready for trouble.

Suddenly he shoved inward on the heavy door, then jumped back to stay out of Croft's line of fire.

He heard the door bang against the wall, but other than that nothing happened. No gunfire from inside. Was she really in there?

Pulling the flashlight from his pocket, he turned it on. Quickly he shoved the light around the corner, waved it back and forth, and withdrew his hand. Still nothing. If she was in there, she would've fired at the light. He stuck the light around the corner and held it. Nothing.

He stuck his head around the corner. The freezer looked empty. Cautiously he stepped inside, his breath visible in the cold room. There were slabs of meat hanging nearbly, but nothing else. Certainly no woman with a shotgun.

That stopped him cold. A shotgun? Scott had been killed with a pistol, not a shotgun. He'd heard the shots himself. And Scott had been hit by pairs of bullets, like someone shooting with both…

The truth hit him with such certainty that it took his breath away. He whirled around, bringing up the Uzi at the same time.

That's when something struck him in the forehead.

* * * * *

Simon Maher turned the knob and pushed the office door back softly, sweeping his flashlight from side to side. Satisfied, he walked into the room. He'd already searched the place once before. There was no one here. Everything was just as he'd…

His eyes widen at the open cabinet door and the cardboard boxes scattered around on the floor. What the…?

The sound of guns being cocked was very loud in the stillness.

"Be so kind as to stay right where you are," said a feminine voice.

Blast! It must be Croft. How'd she get in here?

"Now take the Uzi, and set it on the floor. Then step away from it."

She was somewhere behind him. Trying to turn would be suicide. He'd have to wait. He stooped down and set the gun on the floor, then moved to the side as she had ordered.

There was a rustle of something soft and he swung the flashlight around. Stepping from behind an overstuffed chair was the most amazing thing he'd ever seen. She was tall and incredibly beautiful, with long, dark red hair streaming down her back and across her shoulders. The blue nightgown was barely long enough to cover her bottom and cut low in front. Her legs were long and deeply tanned. He saw the guns and belt, of course, but his gaze returned quickly to the brown eyes staring at him.

"It's impolite to point a light into a lady's face, mister. Please lower it at once."

The tone of voice left no room for argument whatsoever. And not wanting to invite a bullet, he swung the light toward the floor.

"What are you gonna do, lady?" he asked sullenly.

"It occurred to me to shoot you, mister," she replied as she came toward him. "For breaking in my house like this."

"Guess I would expect that," he admitted. "You already done blew away Scott."

"Who?"

"Scott, one of our guys. We found him floating face down in the pool. He had six holes in him, lady. You sure don't mess around, do you?" And she might kill him, too. He had to do something and fast.

"Maybe you'll be more fortunate, mister."

Reaching the Uzi on the floor, she holstered her left-hand revolver and knelt down, keeping her eyes and her other weapon pointed at the man two meters away.

It was now or never. The woman glanced down to pick up the weapon on the floor and Simon sprang at her. Her head snapped up, the gun lifted to meet him, and Simon realized that he'd made it big mistake.

I'm dead. The thought flashed through his mind.

So it was with great surprise he heard a 'click' as the gun apparently misfired.

He didn't give her another chance. His left hand closed around her wrist, forcing the gun to the side, even as his momentum shoved her backward. He would have used his right hand to hit her in the face. But since he was holding the flashlight he couldn't do that. So he did the next best thing.

He brought the barrel of the flashlight down hard on the top of her head. Simon felt the blow in his wrist, and the light went out, plunging the room into semi-darkness. Her grip on the gun loosened and the red-haired woman staggered backward.

* * * * *

The man in front of her dropped like a stone and Susan Oliver grunted with satisfaction, lowering her pistol. It had been a near thing. He must have guessed the truth, turning suddenly the way he did.

The flashlight lying on the floor provided enough light for her to see that he was apparently unconscious. The toe of her boot touched the Uzi lying at his side and shoved it to the other end of the room.

Susan turned and pulled the heavy freezer door closed. It should muffle the sound. She pulled her second weapon and lifted the silver pistols toward the body on the floor.

"Sorry, Arnie."

* * * * *

Lara Croft's fingers were only inches from the gun on the floor when she had sensed motion in her peripheral vision. Reacting purely from instinct, she had tried to get up, lifting her six-gun at the same time. Her finger tightened on the trigger just as the man in the camouflage suit had collided with her.

The click of the hammer striking the empty chamber was loud in closed space of the office and as Lara stumbled backward she felt his hand close around her wrist. The light whirled and she tried to grab it. Then something hit her.

The pain was blinding and she stumbled backward, her hands lifting to her head. Defenseless, she could do nothing to counter the hard blow that stuck right below her breast, driving the air from her lungs.

Nor could she counter a third blow, which stuck her on the jaw, spinning her around and knocking her to the floor.

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