Bright sunshine, blue skies and an almost perfect temperature put an accent on the lovely summer morning. The gently rolling hills were dotted with farms and wooded areas, and neat, sturdy fences separated the two-lane road from the well kept fields on either side of it. It would have made a perfect place for an artist to paint a picture of an English countryside.
On this particular morning, a black Bentley touring car crested the top of a hill and started down the other side. Expensive automobiles were not unheard of along this road, but were beyond the reach of most people. The farmers working in nearby fields gave the car only a cursory glance before returning to more important matters.
The windows of the Bentley were tinted dark, and except for the front windshield, it would be very difficult for anyone standing outside to see into the car. Which, in this case, suited the occupants just fine. Slipping undetected past the watchers was almost impossible, but today, with the help of several decoy vehicles, they had been successful.
The man sitting in the front passenger seat, whose job it was to keep an eye on such things, had glanced at the road behind them as they had topped the hill. There was not another vehicle for many kilometers.
Before long the Bentley began passing a long, high stone wall on the right side of the road, ample evidence that they were almost at their destination. A short time later the car slowed and turned into the entrance of an old, but well kept mansion. A heavy iron gate crossed the driveway and the car stopped just short of it. The man in the front passenger seat got out and crossed to the telephone box.
* * * * *
She was far away, in an ancient culture, when the buzz of the intercom dragged her reluctantly from the book she was studying.
"Yes?"
"They're here, Miss Lara," said the thick Irish brogue in her ear.
"Thank you, Ian. I'll be right out."
So saying, she hung up the phone and reached for her teacup. A single sip was enough to bring a frown to her face. It was cold.
Heading for the door, she stopped for a moment to check her appearance in the mirror. She was dressed casually, in short sleeve blouse and slacks, but it was a carefully prepared casual look. She wanted everything to be perfect when she greeted her guest.
In a moment, she joined the big man at the bottom of the front steps. Lara Croft was not a small woman by any means, but Ian McPherson towered easily over her. In his early fifties, he was still in excellent condition. And while his times on the assault course were longer than those of his young employer, they were still quite respectable given his age and physical size.
"They're just comin' up the road, lass."
"It's been a long time, Ian," she replied. "Too long."
"This will be the first time for me, Miss Lara. Do I bow or something?"
She rolled her eyes with an exasperated sigh. "Oh, Ian! Of course not."
He looked doubtful. "Are you sure, mum?"
"Just be yourself. Everything will be fine.
The black car swung around the circular driveway and came to a stop near them. The front passenger door opened and a man stepped out. He was of medium build with dark hair and his eyes darted quickly around at the surrounding area. He was wearing a sport coat, but it was unbuttoned and his right hand was near his belt buckle.
Apparently satisfied, he swung to face them. He was in his early thirties and was obviously a security officer or bodyguard. "Miss Croft?"
"Yes," she replied and turned to the big man next to her. "And this is Ian McPherson, my gardener." She said it with a straight face and saw the bodyguard's eyebrows lift a tiny bit.
"Your gardener?" There was just a hint of disbelief in his voice.
She smiled. "But before coming to work for me, he was Sergeant-Major McPherson of Her Majesty's Coldstream Guards." McPherson was tall and in one of those bearskin hats at Buckingham Palace he must have been a sight indeed.
"I retired a bit ago," McPherson explained. "I do like to do some gardening when I have the time and I keep an eye on the place when Miss Lara is away."
A genuine smile came to the bodyguard's face and his hand dropped to his side. "I'm Edward Mason, formerly of The Regiment. Everything secure here?"
"Aye, sir. I even brought in a couple of lads to keep an eye out for any unwanted quests, especially down by the road."
Mason nodded. "Thank you, Sar'major. Well done." He turned to open the rear passenger door.
"The Regiment?" Lara whispered to the man next to her. She had seen the look of quiet pride on Mason's face.
McPherson glanced down and smiled. "When you care enough to send the very best, Miss Lara. Our Mr. Mason was SAS, probably an officer by the look of him." The Special Air Service enjoyed a well-deserved reputation as one of the finest special-operations forces in the world, similar to the Seals of the American Navy. Who better as a bodyguard for someone special?
Mason pulled open the passenger door and Lara couldn't help but grin as the tall passenger stepped from the car.
"Hello, Lara." The blonde woman's smile was just as genuine as that of her bodyguard as she stepped forward, her hands outstretched.
Lara took them in her own. "Diana. It's great to see you again. And this is my friend, Ian McPherson. Ian, Lady Diana, Princess of Wales."
Diana turned to McPherson and offered her hand. "I am very pleased to meet you, Sergeant-Major. Has she run you through the assault course yet?"
McPherson positively beamed at the courtesy she had shown him in addressing him by his former rank. "Aye, ma'am. That she has."
"He's very good at it, too," Lara added with grin. "For an old guy."
Diana and her bodyguard both laughed as the smile dropped from McPherson's face like a stone from a high cliff. Ian turned to face Lara and his eyes narrowed. She took in his indignant look and smiled innocently.
"Just teasing, sir."
"I wouldn't let her get away with that if I were you," Diana said with a chuckle.
"She won't, ma'am. You can rest assured of it." His words were for Diana, but the expression on his face told Lara she might be made to pay later for her joke at his expense.
"How about showing me around a bit, Sar'major?" asked Mason. "If you intend to thrash your employer within an inch of her life, it might be better to wait until after we've gone." He shrugged and his mouth turned up a little. "Fewer witnesses, as it were."
McPherson reluctantly tore his eyes from Lara and nodded. "Aye, Mr. Mason, that's a good idea. Let's take a walk. " They turned away, but the women had no trouble hearing his parting words. "'Afore I beat up on a certain skinny, little Ph.D. girl."
"Where in the world did you find someone like him, Lara?" Diana asked, gazing after them. "He's precious."
"Ian was a old friend of my father. He retired from the military and was looking for a position when father suggested that he call me. I was looking for a major-domo, someone to run the house, so it was perfect. He's only been here a short time, but it's worked out quite nicely."
Diana turned to face her hostess. "So it's Lara Croft, Ph.D., now? Should I call you Dr. Croft?"
"Not if you want to stay friends," Lara retorted with a grin. "Come inside and I'll get us some tea."
"Ah, splendid," Diana replied as they walked up the steps. "Tea would be just the thing right now. And I want to hear all about that adventure of yours in America. I read the article you published, but knowing you it's probably not but half the story."
* * * * *
After seating her visitor comfortably in her office, Lara hurried the kitchen to request a fresh pot of tea. She'd first met Lady Diana Spencer while she was still in school. For some reason, Diana had taken an interest in the young girl six years her junior and they had been friends every since. At first Diana had seemed like a favorite aunt, and on those infrequent occasions when they got together she had always had a funny story or something interesting to tell her young friend. Later, as Lara made her own way in the world, their relationship had changed to one of mutual respect.
They were not "best friends", although both might have enjoyed that relationship. It's just that their on-the-go lives kept them from ever having extended time together. A morning once in a while, an evening out perhaps, or a hurriedly arranged luncheon somewhere, that was all they ever had time for.
When her friend had become the fairytale princess, thirteen year old Lara could hardly contain her excitement, and like everyone, she had hoped the dream would last forever. But as time passed it became increasingly clear that Diana's marriage was in trouble.
Unable to do anything about Diana's royal difficulties, Lara had nevertheless helped by providing a haven where Diana could come and just relax, without having to put on her "public face." When Lara had first met her, Diana had laughed a lot and loved to play tricks on people, a practice that had gotten her into trouble on several occasions at the Palace. At Lara's private estate Diana could do as she wished and the two women often went horseback riding together, away from the prying eyes of the tabloid press.
When she returned to her office, Lara saw her visitor looking at the photographs on the wall.
"The tea will be along a moment. I told cook to make it especially hot. I know you like it that way."
The blonde woman turned and smiled. "Thank you, Lara. It's kind of you to remember. And it's good to be in your house again."
"Any time, Diana. We're glad to have you."
The blonde woman swung back to the photographs on the wall. "These are from your trip to America?"
Lara stopped beside her. "Correct. I went to a theme park called Silverado. It's sort of like the Disney places, except it's done up like the American west of the 1880's. "
Diana pointed to a picture showing Lara and a tall man standing next to a big motorcyle. Behind them was a line of towering mountains. "Who is that with you?
"His name is Jim Spade. Like the ace of spades."
"What an interesting name." Diana turned to face her friend. "How did the two of you happen to be up in the mountains? Your article didn't mention anything about that."
Lara blushed, remembering the quiet week that she and Spade had spent together.
Diana's eyebrows lifted. "Yes? Is there something about this man Spade that I should know?"
"He wants me to marry him."
Instead of showing surprise, the blonde woman glanced back at the picture and studied it closely. "He looks like he'd suit you, Lara. What did you tell him? Am I going to be a bridesmaid?"
Lara smiled. "I can't think of anyone I'd rather have stand with me, Diana, but...I...well, I guess I'm just not ready to give up my freedom. Not yet, anyway."
Diana's smile faded. "A good man is hard to find, Lara. If he's someone special, don't let him get away until you're sure."
"I've thought about it," Lara admitted. "I've thought about it a lot."
Diana looked back at the photograph. "He reminds me of someone. Who is it? Ah, I know, a younger Gene Hackman, perhaps?"
Lara saw the resemblance immediately. "You're right. More rugged than handsome."
"Speaking of actors, it looks like I might be in a movie, too."
"You?"
Diana grinned. "With Kevin Costner, no less. He's going to make a sequel to 'The Bodyguard' and I'm going play a Princess that he's assigned to protect. We'll fall in love."
If Lara was surprised before, now she was stunned. "Kevin Costner? How did all that come about?""
"Through a mutual friend. Then I talked to Kevin directly. Someday my life is going be my own and I'll be free to explore a number of things, like this movie, for example."
"But, an actress...?"
"I was a little unsure at first," Diana admitted. "But you know, I'm going play a woman who is very much like me and Kevin thinks I'll be fine with it. They're working on a screenplay and a draft should be ready before too long."
"I think it sounds like a wonderful idea, Diana. Just make sure I get a ticket to the gala premiere."
The blonde woman laughed and turned back to the wall. "Now tell me about the rest of these pictures. Who are all these men?" The framed photograph showed a large group of Wild West cowboys standing in front of an old steam train. The bottom of the picture was covered with signatures.
"They're called 'The Outlaws of Silverado.' They are the villains of the place. Jim is their leader."
"And this one?" Diana asked, pointing to picture of a blonde cowgirl standing next to a paint horse. "Let me guess. It's Little Britches?"
Lara nodded and smiled fondly. "That's her, all right. You'd like her."
There were other pictures, too. Matt Branson, Alison Kennedy, Jason Trimble. Lara remembered each. They were special people. All of them. Someday soon she'd have to go back and see everyone again.
Beside her, Diana sighed. "It looks like you had a wonderful time, Lara. I wish I could go to a place like that. Put on one of those big hats. Ha. That would be fun."
"Well, why don't you?"
"The paparazzi. It's difficult to go anywhere without them."
"There are none here."
The blonde woman looked perplexed. "I beg pardon? What are you talking about?"
"While I was in America, I had an afternoon free while I was in Denver. So I went to a place called Shepler's. It's one of the largest western clothing stores in the world. It took a couple of large boxes to ship home everything I bought there. So I have enough clothes to outfit a whole theatre company." Lara grinned. "Even a Princess."
Diana's mouth dropped open. "You mean...?"
"Why not? It's perfect. I gave most of the staff the day off when I learned you were coming. There's no one here but cook, Ian and Mr. Mason. Plenty of room for two cowgirls to go for a private ride in the sunshine."
A few minutes later Lara's bed was covered with cowboy clothes and the two women giggled like a couple of schoolgirls as they tried on different combinations of garments. Diana finally settled on a long, light brown, suede riding skirt with a pretty blouse. Selecting a hat was more difficult, however, and it took her some minutes to find one that suited her. Lara chose a pair of chocolate brown leather pants and matching vest, along with a crème color shirt.
Standing together in front of the big mirror, Diana laughed. "Oh, Lara! Don't we look grand?"
Lara smiled. Diana had been through so much in her life, especially with the breakup of her marriage. It was good to see her friend having a good time.
Thirty minutes later, they set out on horseback. Although Lara had offered to have them ride along, McPherson and Mason had declined, opting to follow at a discrete distance in the Land Rover. In deference to her guest, Lara decided not to wear her guns, but a private word with Ian assured her that the two men were well prepared for any trouble that might arise.
After an hour or so of riding, they found a pleasant spot to stop for a picnic. The men joined them for the meal, but afterward they returned to the Land Rover-to swap 'war stories' as they put it-leaving Lara and Diana to enjoy the perfect afternoon. They got to talking about Diana's charity work and Lara sensed some of her friend's interest in several issues, especially land mines.
"Angola was amazing, Lara, and appalling at the same time. It's one thing to sit in your comfortable home and read about the effects of these dreadful weapons. Before the trip, my sponsors gave me an extensive briefing about what to expect once I got to the country." She grimaced. "But in spite of what they told me, I was really shocked at what I saw.
"They're been at war there for over thirty years and someone told me that there is a land mine for every man, woman and child in the country. Everyplace I went I saw people who had been maimed, people who had nothing to do with the war. It's bad enough that soldiers have to die, but to see the little children...it was dreadful."
"I saw that picture of you with the little girl who'd lost her leg," Lara said.
"Her name was Sandra," Diana replied. "She was out gathering food when she stepped on a mine." Diana shook her head. "Thirteen years old. And she wasn't the only one. They were everywhere. Their lives have been devastated. All they have left is their dignity."
"Do you feel like your trip did any good? Is anyone listening?"
"I hope so, Lara. The press certainly covered my visit extensively. There's talk about a treaty to ban land mines altogether. I hope it's adopted by every country."
"I don't know how you put up with the press. If it were me, I'd shoot the lot of 'em, so to speak."
Diana laughed. "That's what I like about you, Lara. You say just what you think." The blonde woman's smile faded. "But I'll tell you what: If the press is determined to follow me around, then I'm going to use that opportunity." No hint of humor now. Lara saw the fierceness in her friend's eyes. "There's so much wrong in the world. If they want to take my picture, they're going to have to go where I go and see what I see. If I rub their faces in it, if it makes people see the horror often enough on the evening news, perhaps something will be done."
A car door opened nearby and Lara glanced around to see Edward Mason getting out of the Land Rover.
"Time to go, ladies," he called.
Diana looked up. "Thank you, Edward, we'll be along in a moment."
The women quickly started gathering up the remains of the picnic.
"So where are you headed next, Diana?"
"Bosnia. They tell me the situation there is almost as bad as Angola. That's hard to believe."
"Take care, Diana. A mortar shell or an artillery round doesn't care that you've come to help."
"Neither do land mines, Lara. That's why I'm going."
On that somewhat somber note, they placed the blankets and picnic baskets back in the Land Rover and returned to their horses.
"Thanks for letting me come to your home like this, Lara. You've been a good friend over the years. I just wish we could spend more time together."
"So do I, Diana. It's always great to have you."
Diana untied her horse's reins from the tree. "It was fun playing cowgirl, too. I don't get a chance to do that sort of thing any more. I wish I had my camera with me."
"Well, you're in luck. I did bring mine." Lara opened her saddlebag and pulled out a pocket 35mm camera.
Ian McPherson was quite willing to play photographer and a moment later he had the two women smiling as they stood next to their horses, cowboy hats and all.