Tomb Raider: The Legacy

Chapter 29: Photo

NOTE: The lore in this chapter - and the following ones - is based on the script of Bloodline, the spin-off video game dedicated to Kurtis Trent that Richard Morton and other creators of Core Design had in mind. Thus, Marty Cruise, the reference to Lucifer, the details of Kurtis's past that are narrated here are not my creation but come from this original script. If you want to read the details, you can find out the lore of this unborn project on the Tomb of Ash website.

Marty Cruise finished her cappuccino and put the cup back in its place. Then she nervously drummed her fingers on the table and looked at her watch. Five times.

Through the dinner's window, the traffic and the coming and going of New York's people was constant, oblivious to her inner anxiety. She leaned back on the faux fur-lined bench, crossed her arms. She stamped her foot on the floor, growing impatient.

What am I doing? She rebuked herself. She had work to do. In fact, she had too much work to waste on encounters with strangers...

A customer walked past her. Suddenly he stepped back and dropped in front of her on the other side of the table. Instinctively, Marty's hand went to her belt, where she kept her service weapon - then she released it, though she kept it close.

The man - a white man in his fifties - was dressed in old and torn clothes, covered in grime, and reeked of alcohol. He had a greasy cap pulled down over his brows, and his visor hid his face, which looked unpleasant judging by his thick beard and long, wiry hair. "Excuse me, agent." He spat, with a cracked and sinister voice. "Last minute change of plans. Almost didn't make it."

"Who are you?" The woman inquired, snorting with annoyance. "Are you Matthew Kendrick?"

"Matt Kendrick's not coming." He let out a short and acid laugh. "Neither here nor anywhere. He's dead." Marty frowned and stood up like a spring. The stranger grabbed her by the sleeve of her jacket. "No!" He hissed, his voice changing to tense and concerned, "Stay, you idiot!"

"I came to speak with Colonel Matthew Kendrick, and you're not him." She replied, hard and categorical. "Goodbye."

She tried to pull away from him, but he tightened his grip on her. "At least listen to me! If you don't, they're screwed!"

"Who?" The man looked down and then around him, frustrated. "For the last time." Marty insisted calmly. "Answer or I'll leave as I entered; and if you fuck with me..."

"Heissturm."

One word, and when the guy released it, she froze.

"What did you say?" She mumbled.

"Around twenty years ago you met a man here in New York. A man with many names and with, let's say, special abilities..."

A click interrupted him. Marty had snapped her fingers at him impatiently. "Cut the crap." She sat down again, pushed the cup away and placed her palms on the sticky table. "I ask and you answer. First: what about Kurtis? Don't look around like a scared rabbit. I haven't seen him for years. And second: why do you say that the man I was waiting for is dead?"

The man rubbed his hands together, clad in black fingerless gloves, fingers as grimy and nails as dirty as the rest of him. "If the agent allows it, I answer them backwards." He raised a finger. "Colonel Kendrick is dead because they knew he wanted to meet with you."

"Who knew?"

"The Men in Black, of course."

"Wait, how do you know that?"

"Because I'm one of them."

The police officer froze for the second time. Frozen and mute.

"You see, agent." Self-confidence regained, the individual continued speaking. "Colonel Kendrick approached you with the premise of having been an old friend of Kurtis..."