It wasn't as easy as it seemed to follow a trail of blood in the jungle. But unfortunately for him, Flynck was bleeding like a pig. Wounded in the leg as he was, that bitch Croft would soon catch him. In fact, it was surprising she hadn't caught him already.

He turned, panting, and surveyed the foliage behind him. Nothing could be heard out of the usual sounds of the jungle.

For a moment, he felt elated. Yes, he'd played his cards right. Those two - Croft and that soldier, whoever he might be - could've caused trouble, but as expected, they had remained with the brat.

With her corpse, if he'd aimed well. But it was hard to say. He'd got goddamned nervous about shooting.

He stood still, sharpening his hearing. Nothing, silence.

Trying to ignore the searing pain of his injured leg, he turned his attention to the shoulder bag and started to open it.

Then a shot rang out and an explosion of pain went through him, from front to back at shoulder height. The impact knocked him down, making him fall on a bed of dead leaves while howling. Consumed by pain, he didn't hear the footsteps crunching on the leaves, but out of the corner of his eye he saw someone coming, so he groped his holster, looking for the gun.

A boot crushed his wrist against the ground, writhing against him, forcing him to drop the weapon, which was kicked away. Almost immediately, that someone immobilized him, resting their knee against his sternum, pinning him to the ground.

Panting, breathless, Flynck had only to look up to recognize Lara Croft.

"Excuse me." She said, surprisingly sounding very friendly. She leaned over him, looking at him face to face. "I think you forgot this." And she brandished the stick he'd used to hit the bloody brat.

At that moment he realized how desperate was his situation, lying on middle of a jungle, bleeding from two bullet wounds and that woman over him, looking at him in an absolutely terrifying way, with the remains of camouflage yet smearing her sweaty skin.

He struggled to breathe air, which was difficult considering the explorer's knee and all her weight discharged on his diaphragm.

"You want the Teardrop of Brahma." He panted weakly. "I'll give it to you. The people who hired me is..."

"I don't care about the people who hired you". She replied slowly, chewing each word. "And you see, right now I don't even care about the Teardrop of Brahma."

Then, slowly and deliberately, she put the tip of the branch on the gunshot wound and began to push slowly on it. Flynck stiffened and howled in pain.

"Enough!" He shouted. "Enough! I'll do what you want!"

"But I'm not asking you anything, silly." Lara smiled, showing a row of perfect white teeth. "Well, actually, I do have a question."

"Whatever!"

"Does this hurt as much as I imagine?" And she began to dig into the wound with that stick. Flynck's screams tore through the air. "Ah, I thought so."

"Please, stop! I..." He moaned. "This is just business! I didn't want to hit her, she stood in my way! She left me no choice..."

He let out a sob of relief when the pressure slackened. Then he heard her manipulate his belt and saw that she was removing it.

"What...?"

For a moment, a stupid moment, he thought she was going to make a tourniquet for his leg, seeing her making a kind of loop with the belt. But then she threw it over his neck. He started screaming and resisting, and then she lifted the stick and brought it down with all her strength against his leg wound.

Flynck yelled. He howled. He called her a bitch. And a thousand other things he could think of while she, among his stuttering, dragged him by the neck toward the stump of a tree. He had to crawl at her compass to prevent strangulation with the belt. There she tied him to a thick branch, leaving him half his neck, and a pair of strips torn from her own clothes tied his hands behind his back. The wounds hurt so much and he had lost so much blood that he hardly had been able to resist.

"What are you doing?" He hissed through clenched teeth. He was distraught that she could be so quiet. "Dammit, you fucking slut, if you're gonna kill me do it now!"

"I won't kill you." Lara replied calmly, and after securing the bonds, took several steps back and stared at him with the stick on her hip.

Then he understood. "N-No... no... no, please..."

She stepped back again and picked up the bag off the floor. Then, after a last glance, she threw the stick away from the clearing. She grabbed his gun, examined it, and without more, put it away. But when she opened the nag, she froze when viewing its content. Then she seemed to calm down.

"We could have discussed this in another way." She said absently, not losing the serenity in her voice at any moment. "You wanted the artifact from the beginning, but you waited for me to get it out of the ruins. Not that I would've given it to you anyway, of course, but at least you would've messed with someone your own size." Then she leered. "Now you're bleeding from two gunshot wounds in a jungle full of bugs and vermin. All for this." She tutted, and turning over the bag, she emptied it on the ground. "So unlucky you were today, indeed."

The furtive raider froze when seeing a huge stone falling from the bag and rolling on the floor.

It wasn't the Teardrop of Brahma. Just a rock, an ordinary rock.

"But, but..."

"Congratulations." Lara said, smiling sarcastically. "A fourteen-year-old girl has tricked you."

She threw the bag aside and walked away from him.

"Where are you going? Don't leave me here!" Flynck writhed, but it all hurt. "Croft! Curse you! I'll do whatever you want!"

"For real?" She turned, still smiling, sensual and charmingly.

"Whatever!"

"Well, then... just die." She turned again. "Slowly and painfully, if possible."

And she left.

The howls of her enemy, who insulted her and cried out to kill him, chased her a long time, but did nothing but stoke her hatred. Soon, however, once she noticed the adrenaline in her bloodstream, she experienced a decline. She leaned back, panting, on a tree, and breathed several times to regain her composure.

Then she ran.

(...)

The next bomb fell nearby. Too close. The explosion was heard just a few kilometers away. They were almost there.

For God's sake, Lara.

Why did she have to go? Why was she so goddammit stubborn? It seemed she enjoyed complicating things.

After checking the perimeter for the third time, Kurtis went back to Anna, who was still lying on the bed with the bag containing the Teardrop of Brahma under her arm, and groping something in her pocket. A paper ball. He caught it before it fell.

"What's this?" He asked and arranged it to observe the drawing.

"I wanted to show it to you. I suck at drawing, totally."

It was funny she was worried about that in such a moment. He looked at the picture for a few seconds, then folded it and stuffed it back into her pocket.

"You fail at the same thing every time, and it's because you don't catch its shape appropriately."

"I looked at it so much I got bored!"

"That's the thing. You're tired of looking at it." He pulled the amber stone from the bag and put it in her hands. "Touch it. Turn it in your hands. Until you know it by heart, without looking at it."

Another explosion sounded, this time closer. Anna didn't seem to care. She'd closed her eyes and turned the artifact meticulously in her hands.

"We gotta go. Now." Kurtis said, and bent over her, examining her. She didn't seem to be worse. "How're you doin'?"

"We ain't leaving without Mom, right?" She replied quickly.

He didn't answer. She didn't insist. She knew she shouldn't.

"You're not OK to walk right now, so I'll take you to the helicopter." He put again his arms under her back and legs. "Ready? One, two, three!"

When he lifted her up, Anna felt as if the world began to spin around and closed her eyes tightly. Vomit rose up her throat again, but this time she swallowed. Yuck, yuck.

"Your sacrifice is appreciated." She heard her father's joking voice in her ear. "Once was enough."

Her head was pumping in waves of pain, but it was easier if she buried her face against his shoulder and stood motionless.

"Anna..."

"Oh, yes. Do the talking." She murmured, her voice muffled by his camouflage clothing. "Let's see: name's Anna and my head's gonna explode. My head's gonna explode and name's Anna. Name's Anna and I suck at drawing. I suck at drawing and name's Anna..."

With his daughter in his arms he couldn't move very fast, and certainly not if he wanted to avoid her getting worse. He left the clearing and went into the jungle. Luckily he could follow easily the previous path opened when he'd arrived there.

"If we leave, how are we gonna find Mom?"

Silence.

"We've left behind a lot of our stuff..." She complained.

"I gotta get you outta here. Everything else is irrelevant."

Mom too? But she didn't say it. She didn't want to hear no answer.

He stopped a few times to strengthen Anna on his arms. Now he was sweating profusely.

"How you've grown." He grunted with effort.

"Ha ha. Very funny."

"What's funny?"

"You called me fat."

"I didn't."

"Yes you did."

"Okay: you've grow fat. Now I did."

His daughter gave him a kick in the thigh, but it felt very weak.

Another explosion sounded in the distance. Indeed, as he approached the helicopter, he noticed their problems were just beginning. A solitary Legion helicopter flying amid a war zone was a perfect target. He didn't know if the rebels had anti-aircraft missiles, but it was foolish not to count on it. It had been madness to go there. And it would be worse to get out. But if they stayed, Anna could worsen. And if she lost consciousness, she could die.

Kurtis realized he'd slowed his pace. He lied to himself thinking it was to prevent his daughter's battered head from worsening from the shaking movement. Actually, it was to buy some time for Lara. At every step, the sensation increased. That urgent need to come back for her, to stay and wait for her, and at the same time, the absolute urgency to leave before it was too late for Anna.

He hated that sensation. He hated it with all his strength.

"Don't worry." He heard Anna muttering again, her head resting on his shoulder. "She knows how to take care of herself."

"I know." He answered. That's why you've got priority.

He hated having to choose between Lara and his daughter. He really hated it. But he had no choice.

And besides, what was it for Lara Croft to deal with a hostile and rugged area surrounded by a newly-erupted warzone? They both knew she'd dealt with much worse situations.

C'mon, M'lady. Impress me.

(...)

Lara arrived panting and almost exhausted to the camp. Seeing it empty and silent wasn't a great surprise for her. With a quick glance she identified the remains of the kit, the bloodstained gauze and fabric, needle and thread scraps. They weren't there, and after quickly examining prominent protuberances, she found that neither was the Teardrop of Brahma.

He'd practiced first aid on Anna and had taken her out of there. Well done, Kurtis.

She could imagine how hard would've been for that overprotective fool to leave without her. But if he'd done so, it was because Anna's situation must be serious. But she was alive at least. Otherwise anything else wouldn't have made sense.

Lara leaned on the table, sweating, and took a deep breath several times. She ran her hand across her forehead to wipe sweat, smearing even more of the makeup across her face, and thought quickly. She needed to leave almost everything except weapons, which of course she'd take. She collected them at full speed, trying to ignore the painful twinges all over her body.

She could try to reach the archaeological center on foot. That would take a couple of days. With a little luck, and if the rebels hadn't gotten there, the British explorer could use one of the jeeps to drive north, towards the sea. That wouldn't help to leave the island, but she remembered there was a hospital and a support center with links abroad. Communication would be cut, but at least she wouldn't be lost in the jungle.

Lara hoped wholeheartedly that Kurtis had gone there with Anna. Suddenly she shuddered, thinking how vulnerable a helicopter was flying alone in the midst of chaos. Of course, it was a gunship helicopter. And as far as she knew, he was a fighter pilot. A very good fighter pilot.

C'mon, Kurtis. Impress me.

She mustn't worry about them. She was alone, which meant she would have to fight her way out.

She smiled. Just like old times.

Without losing her smile, the British explorer rushed back into the jungle.