Tomb Raider: The Map of Doom

Surrey, England

Tracking in a jungle is an art. Tracking Lara Croft in a jungle was perhaps reaching the pinnacle of the art form. The men tasked with this were professionals; ex-SAS commandos that had seen action in some of the densest jungles in the world, and although their opinion of people with Lara's upbringing was little, they couldn't help but accept that she was giving them a run for their money.

"Leader this is Two I can't see shite."

The torrential rain only added to their woes as the men were forced to squint through the downpour to find their elusive target, "Leader this is Six I think I lost her."

"Acknowledged. Overwatch, you have a visual?"

"Negative leader, she's a crafty lass."

"Alright you lot, we've got an Oxbridge cunt that's takin' us to school here, WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?"

The click of a pistol's hammer from behind calmed the Leader considerably. He slowly made for his holster,

"I may be an Oxbridge cunt, but I know for certain that you're not faster than a bullet." Lara chimed.

"I can't fucki'n believe it." The man turned around with his hands in the air and a scowl on his face.

Lara pointed at the communication set, "Call it in."

With reluctance, he picked up the mic and relayed the message, "All units, mission failed. Repeat. Mission failed. Head back to the camp." The man who went by 'Leader' stood in the rain and let his eyes wander over Lara.

The smooth bronze thighs, the full curve of her breasts, the hint of her nipples poking against the wet fabric of her top, the thick luscious lips and then there were the eyes, which held a heady mixture of mischief and death. There was no doubt in his mind that if this were a real-life situation, Lara would've popped one in the back of his head without missing a beat.

"Congratulations, your ladyship." His disdain for the likes of Lara would never leave him, even when faced with a loaded pistol. Lara smirked and nodded in reply but kept the gun trained on him.

"The exercise is over Princess." He began to lower his hands. Lara clicked her tongue and beckoned them up again.

"Not until the whole team has assembled." Her hostage nodded in appreciation and let out a nervous chuckle.

Soon, the shrubbery around the campsite rustled, and 12 men dressed in green camouflage fatigues and armed with semi-automatic weapons emerged. Most spat on the ground in front of them and shot daggers at Lara, while some others took the opportunity to give her physique a once over. Lara gave them a genuine smile, lowered her gun and returned it to its holster with a flamboyant twirl.

"Gentlemen, thank you for your guidance and lessons these past two months. If ever the 'Rat-Pack' is in town, do drop in for a spot of tea."

With that, Lara spun around and jogged back towards Croft-Manor which was seen at a distance. After letting his eyes linger on her receding ass-cheeks 'Leader' turned to his men, "You cost me a bonus by not catching her. And so, you're gonna ship out today. No R&R." There were groans of disapproval all around, but they knew better than to argue with him. As they began to pack up their camp and prepared to leave the Croft-Estate, their bonus-deprived commander looked back at the large mansion once again and grinned.

------------------------------

As she jogged up the steps of her home, Lara was greeted at the entrance by her butler, James. "Good morning, James, I'll take my breakfast upstairs."

"Certainly M'lady, and what shall be your agenda for the day?" James continued as he followed her into the house. Lara crossed the cavernous living room and made her way towards a cage which housed the surveillance apparatus for the whole estate. She hung up her guns alongside the other weapons and bounded upstairs,

"I shall be dining at Morton's in the city. After that, a visit to the museum and then perhaps, some fun." James groaned as a playful smirk appeared on her lips when she mentioned 'fun.'

"It is just as well My Lord Croft that you departed this world before your daughter grew up to this." He mumbled and shook his head as he made his way into the kitchen. Lara entered her bedroom and began with taking her boots off. Her top followed suit, which freed her ample breasts, a sensation that incited a low moan of pleasure as she walked towards her walk-in wardrobe. The Leader of the Rat-Pack was lounging in a chair next to the open window, and smoking a cigarette when Lara entered. He almost said something before realizing that staying quiet would be far more prudent. He watched her peel her top off and eyed the side curve of her breasts as she walked. His gaze went down her toned back and ended at the two pronounced dimples above her ass cheeks.

"I believe I dismissed you and your men." Lara spoke without turning around. She flipped through her clothes and shifted her weight from one hip to the other. "And I do believe, that as of now, you are trespassing. A grave offense in these parts." She continued in a conversational tone.

"Well, I guess I just wanted to prove a point." He stood up and began to unbutton his shirt, opening it to reveal a thick crop of hair which covered his chest and lean torso.

"And the point in question is?" Lara glanced over her shoulder.

"That you ain't the only one who can sneak up on people." He slid his fatigues down and stepped out of them. The thick, veined semi-erect cock was swinging between his thighs as he walked. Lara smirked at the sight and raised an eyebrow,

"I see." She turned around to face him and unbuttoned her hot pants, sliding them down her thighs and stepping out of them. The man nodded with a grin and finished the remainder of the cigarette and tossed it on the marble floor, "Oh you ain't seen nothin yet your ladyship." After slipping out of his boots, he walked closer towards her.

------------------------------

James was quite proud of his plating abilities and today was no exception. While he would have preferred to serve his mistress a full English breakfast, she kept to a strict diet regimen. He arranged her egg-white omelette, toast, and fruits with the same level of care as he would have an English breakfast. The sound of the telephone distracted him from his task, "Yes M'lady breakfast will be up in...oh...I see. Well, alright then, I shall leave it outside the door." He replaced the receiver with a scowl, "I do wish she would make up her mind. 'A leisurely shower' she says. Most un-lady like."

Lara stepped into the spacious alcove that served as a walk-in shower area with the man in tow. The only article of clothing between them was her black panties, which he slid down without a moment to lose and caressed her hip as he came in behind her. His thick shaft sliding down and in between her ass cheeks.

"I've been think'n about this for a long time." He whispered in her ear as the steam from the shower enveloped their bodies. "You should be careful what you wish for." She cryptically replied as she turned around and wrapped her arms around his neck. His hands groped her ass cheeks and lifted her up and pinned her against the wall. Her legs wrapped around his waist as she bit his lower lip and tugged it forward with a chuckle.

With a grunt and a loud smack on her ass, he freed his mouth and licked the blood that she drew. "Umm... feisty little cunt, aren't we?" She tightened her thighs around him and slowly scratched his back with a soft purr.

"By the way, isn't a name like the 'Rat-pack' a bit too... American?"

He dipped his head and slurped one of her nipples in and rolled it over his teeth before popping it out of his lips. As he licked his way up her neck, he replied, "Rats are survivors, and so are we. Also, just like rats, we love a good shag." He grinned up at her and slipped his throbbing cock inside her slit. The moan that followed was barely dampened by the noise of the shower.

------------------------------

James sat hunched over a screen in the surveillance area as Lara came down the stairs, dressed in a pair of dark fitting jeans, heavy boots, a sleeveless vest and a leather jacket.

"M'lady, I hardly think that 2.5 hours can be considered a 'leisurely bath.' Were you planning on bathing for the whole year?"

She gave a nonchalant shrug, "Some muscles needed extra attention."

"We do have a masseuse on call."

"I doubt she would have been adequate." She made her way towards the indoor elevator, "By the way, clean up my room would you, the clothes are a bit all over."

"When are they ever not?" James murmured under his breath and went back to his computer screen.

"What are you doing James?"

"Running a diagnostic check on the surveillance. The whole east-wing security turned itself off."

"Did it? And when was this?"

"I have no idea, I only just noticed." He frowned and studied the data on the screen, "It was working fine before you arrived from your training."

Lara smirked and put on her sunglasses, "Was it? How strange."

"You should take this a little seriously m'lady. Your bedroom window was left entirely unguarded."

"How frightening." She remarked with a grin as she took the elevator down to the garage.

------------------------------

Morton's Dining Club:

An establishment like Morton's is not just about providing food, but also about providing an experience for its members. On a rare sunny London afternoon, a balcony table at Morton's overlooking Berkeley Square would be considered ideal to spend time with excellent wine, delicious food, and good company. However, the tranquil and serenity being enjoyed by the members was rudely interrupted by the sound of a powerful motorcycle thundering into view. A carbon-black Ducati Monster rumbled towards the entrance and was parked by its owner. The patrons on the balcony looked on with a mixture of curiosity and annoyance but soon changed their tune once the owner removed her helmet and let her high ponytail cascade down her back.

Lara tossed the keys to the valet, "Take care of it would you Rogers? Oh and be mindful of the paint, it's new." The valet, who had worked for the establishment for decades was a seasoned motor-enthusiast himself, and while Lara's disregard for tranquility was hardly decent, he could never hold a grudge against a beautiful woman atop a powerful bike, "Fear not ma'am I shall treat it like my child."

"Don't Rogers, your kids turned out horrible." Lara grinned and stepped inside the elegant Georgian building.

The loud clack of her steel tipped boots was cause for more displeasure among the people enjoying a quiet and leisurely drink at the bar downstairs, and Lara tried to ensure her feet dropped harder still. After signing in at the register and depositing her helmet and gloves, she enquired after her scheduled appointment,

"Your guest requested a private room on the third-floor ma'am. He's expecting you in room 5."

Lara nodded and made her way towards the elevator, "Have the bar send up something fruity, would you?"

"Certainly ma'am."

The third-floor private rooms were accessible only to those guests that had either inherited their memberships, like Lara or had the approval of the management, which was a great feat in and of itself. Lara mused upon the influence her guest could wield to make this possible.

Seated in the armchair by the window and sipping on a glass of whiskey she perceived a man wearing a bespoke Saville-Row suit, with white hair and a heavily wrinkled face. As she entered, the man turned his striking blue eyes in her direction and gave a polite nod, "Good afternoon, Lady Croft."

Lara nodded and quickly took on a more serious attitude. Predators always have the instinct to recognize each other, and there was no doubt in Lara's mind that the man before her, in his prime, was an apex predator. She moved carefully to the chair opposite and seated herself,

"To what do I owe this pleasure?"

After running his eyes up and down her body, the man chuckled, "The pleasure is all mine." Slipping a hand inside his jacket, he retrieved an envelope and placed it on the table, "I come bearing gifts."

Lara looked at the envelope and then back at the man, "Well, ever since I read the Aeneid as a child, I've always been weary of people who come bearing gifts."

The man nodded, "An invaluable lesson to learn at a young age. But where are my manners? I haven't introduced myself." He extended his hand, "Griffin is the name."

Lara shook it and suppressed a smirk, "I expect you'll become invisible again after this meeting."

"Ah!! Few people, if ever any, actually understand the significance of my name. Impressive Ms. Croft, most impressive indeed." His smile faded as he motioned to the envelope, "The matter at hand if you please."

Lara opened the envelope and studied its contents. Her drink arrived in the meantime. After reading the contents, she replaced the envelope on the table and sat sipping her drink and looked out the window. The silence was a heavy one, but her guest wasn't the type to rush a conversation and waited patiently.

"I assume you represent more than one party in this matter?" Lara inquired as she twirled her drink.

"I represent a consortium, Yes," Griffin answered.

"And who may I ask, is heading this consortium?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you anything about my clients unless you agree to accept the assignment."

"I see. I assume your clients are aware of my charges?"

"Certainly, they want the best and aren't afraid to pay the best price."

Lara chuckled and looked at Griffin, "Flatterer."

"Not at all. Your reputation precedes you. Tomb Raider."

Lara used to hate her sobriquet. It made her feel like a thief. But over time the name grew on her, as did the attitude, "How many other people have you contacted? Do I have to be on the lookout for competitors?"

"So far, only you have caught our imagination. There was a mercenary group that was interested in doing business with us, but my clients prefer that the matter be handled discreetly."

"I see, and if I accept this assignment, what happens next?"

The man gave a sympathetic smile, "My dear, I'm far too old a dog to fall for that trick." He replaced his empty glass on the table and leaned back in the chair, "I shall give you the information only if we have an agreement. Otherwise, I shall have to become invisible."

Lara smiled and nodded, "Very well. I accept."

Griffin smiled a smile which Lara could only interpret as being bestial, "Excellent."

------------------------------

Cartagena, Colombia:

A chauffeur and an SUV awaited Lara's arrival at the airport. The driver spoke little to no English, and Lara didn't reveal herself to be fluent in Spanish just yet. The car took her to the Casa San Augustin Hotel, where a suite was waiting for her along with a letter that informed her of the meeting with her employers that evening.

At 7:00 pm, a motorcade of three SUV's came to pick her up from the hotel. The men in the car were private security contractors and carried themselves as such. Lara remained silent for much of the journey. As they approached the outskirts of Cartagena, all three cars turned off their headlights. Lara contemplated reaching for the stiletto blade in her boot but decided against it once she realized that the cars had not stopped moving. The driver navigated via a GPS screen in the car. Lara looked to the man sitting next to her, "A bit risky don't you think?"

The man's eyes never left the window as he replied, "This is one of 8 routes to our destination. And we've driven on them blind so many times that we don't even need the GPS at this point." He levelled his gaze at her, "Wouldn't want anyone to recognize terrain markers, now would we?" As a further precaution, the drivers changed their speeds regularly, thus making any distance count confusing and ultimately unusable in the long run. After driving in the dark for 30 minutes, they arrived at the sight of a luxurious villa. The lights acted as a welcome contrast against the inky landscape of the night. Upon entering the villa, Lara was checked for concealed weapons. While the stiletto in her boot got confiscated, the one hidden in her long ponytail escaped detection. She was ushered deeper into the house, and the antiquarian in her couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the sheer number of pieces put on display.

"Good evening, Madam Croft." A thick Spanish accent called out to her. Lara faced the source and perceived a great bull of a man, with greying hair and a bulging belly stride towards her. Dressed in linen trousers and a silk shirt, he was the very picture of a rich Latin American you would expect to find strolling down the streets of the city, smoking a Cohiba and chatting loudly with the neighbourhood elders. However, the man facing her was far more dangerous than your average Latin American.

"Juan Cervantez, quite a surprise." Lara smiled and extended her hand. Cervantez took her hand turned it around and gave a soft but wet kiss, "I always thought English women were too bland, but you have some Latina blood in you Madam Croft." He surveyed her body as most men did and nodded, "Oh yes, definitely Latina blood."

"Kind of you to say so Mr. Cervantez.."

"Please, call me Juan and in return may I call you Lara?"

Lara smiled and met the gaze with some measure of steel, "I prefer Mr. Cervantez. We English women are quite the sticklers for convention and professionalism."

Cervantez let out a laugh and whispered in Spanish, "I bet you'd call me 'Mr. Cervantez' even when you're blowing my horn in bed."

"I probably would, but it's a little too early to be talking about that," Lara replied in fluent Spanish, with a slight English accent.

Cervantez raised an eyebrow and laughed heartily, "Well, you certainly are unlike any English woman I've ever met." He continued in Spanish.

Lara nodded and strolled around the opulent and decorated room.

"Do you like what you see Madam Croft?"

"I certainly do. Most of this is missing officially. And I've recovered two items in this room, discreetly of course."

Cervantez nodded and led her into a study where a detailed geographical map of Central America was laid out on a table. He pointed out a small location, "Over here, is a small village with no name. It is said that the village possesses an idol that grants them permanent prosperity."

Lara fought hard to hide her disappointment, "I deal in facts Mr. Cervantez, not local legends."

Cervantez smiled and nodded, "As do I. The idol is of no concern to me. What is of concern is the animal skin upon which the idol is placed."

"Animal skin?"

Cervantez nodded and continued, "Upon the skin is a map. Nobody knows what it means, but my sources tell me that it's an ancient map of Cartagena, possibly the oldest ever of this part of Latin America. If this is the case, then I would like you to retrieve it for me."

Lara looked at the map and asked, "And you haven't been able to retrieve this map on your own?"

"Let's just say that due to certain complications, I am unable to involve myself personally in the matter."

"'Certain complications'?"

"Yes," Cervantez said with finality.

The wheels in Lara's head began to turn, and she decided to shift the line of inquiry, "Why are you interested in this map?"

Cervantez smiled at the expected question and gave the rehearsed answer, "I've always had a keen interest in Cartography. How can one in my line of business not like maps eh? And to that end, I like collecting old pieces of history. The result is all around you to see."

Lara glanced around at the several maps that hung in his study. Restored to near perfection, and impeccably kept, "And now perhaps you'd like to give me the real reason and stop feeding me this horseshit."

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment they contained the fury of a man who is unaccustomed to having his statements second-guessed. Cervantez strolled towards his desk and picked up a Cohiba. Taking a few puffs, he exhaled the smoke towards the ceiling and turned to face his guest, "You English women are so intelligent, why don't you tell me?"