Chapter 1 - One

Tomb Raider: Origins

Part One

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Lara tugged at the hemline of her dress, frowned, then peered down at the generous expanse of cleavage that the garment’s low-cut décolletage left uncovered.

“Good show, old girl”, she muttered to herself, “you could have at least picked one of the more... fully-figured waitresses to cold-cock”.  She glanced down at the petite Asian girl laying on the floor at her feet, checking to see she was still unconscious.

“Sorry Lara”, a voice in her ear crackled, “I guess they just don’t make dresses for ladies of your... uh, how should I put this... highly developed stature over there in Japan, huh?”.

Lara narrowed her eyes, flicked the tiny microphone attached to her left breast.

“Daaamnnnn!”, wicked feedback whined through the earpiece – not even one tenth as loud as she knew it would be for the person on the other end.  She smiled.  “What the hell d’you do that for, girl?”.

“Now, Zachary”, she started, arranging sushi rolls on the serving tray in front of her, “I do realise that this is our first time working together in the field, and don’t get me wrong, I do appreciate a certain amount of work-related chit-chat during these solo missions, but just to be clear, and so we don’t have any further misunderstandings regarding this topic in the future, remember this: I am the person who signs your paycheques”.  A gulp came over the earpiece.  “And therefore, I am the person who will be making the rules.  And rule number one is this: no derogatory or humorous comments regarding your employer’s physical appearance will be tolerated.  Do we have an understanding on this topic, Zachary?”

“Uh, y-yeah”, the voice in her ear stuttered, sounding genuinely nervous.  “No more backchat, big check on that one, Ms. Croft”.

“Please”, the brunette smiled, “call me Lara”.

“Okay, Lara”, the voice came back, “just so long as you get used to callin’ me Zip”.

“It’s a deal”.

She turned, gave herself a once-over in the mirror mounted on the back of the changing room door.

Her outfit consisted of a fetishised French maid uniform: a short black dress cut from some shiny, satin-like material which clung to the contours of Lara’s shapely Western torso painted-on tight.  Every detail of her toned ass, slim belly and full DD-cup breasts - her nipples hard in the cooly air-conditioned room - was clearly visible beneath the garment’s taut black fabric.  A frilly white cotton apron was tied around her waist, with its tassels cinched in at the small of her back in an elaborate bow arrangement.  And a small white cap - irritatingly servile to the young English woman’s aristocratic sensibilities - was perched on top of her glossy brunette hair; which was itself tied back behind Lara’s head in a waist-length ponytail.  Black stockings, a matching suspender belt and lacy garters adorned her long slender legs, and her feet were squeezed into a tiny pair of patent leather pumps.  Their four inch heels showed off Lara’s toned calves and sleek thighs very nicely, but their too-tight fit and narrow, platform-like soles made walking even short distances a painful chore – and running almost completely out of the question.

“Hmmm...”, she smoothed her palms down over the sides of her dress, frowning again as she turned around and saw that the garment’s lower hemline didn’t quite cover the undersides of her ass-cheeks.  If she bent over, even slightly, the fabric would ride up over her thighs and lay bare Lara’s creamy white ass-crack and lacy black thong panties.  “Oh well”, she smirked, “should at least distract the guards, I suppose”.

“Uh, Lara...”.

“Yes, Zip?”, Lara primped her cleavage.

“Well... at the risk of infringing on rule number one, I’ve gotta remind you that that necklace you’re wearing has a tiny little hidden camera embedded in it, and right now, leaning over in front of the mirror like that, you are giving me one hell of a view”.

“Oh, bugger!”, Lara jerked back from her reflection.  “Thank you, Zip”, she blushed, placing a palm over the jewel between her breasts, then applying one final coat on glossy red lipstick to her full, naturally pouting lips.  She pressed her lips together, pouted, then smiled at herself in the mirror - satisfied with her sultry appearance - before turning around and picking up a lacquered tray from the table behind her, almost overladen with immaculately arranged sushi rolls and sashimi hors d'œuvres.

“No problem”, Zip replied.  “Now, how about we get down to business?”

Lara opened the changing room door and strode out confidently.  “I’m all ears”.  She turned right  down a long wood-paneled corridor.  The air around her flickered pale green beneath bare fluorescent tubes.

“Okay, so your mission tonight is to obtain intel on the multinational people-trafficking, gunrunning and drug-smuggling cartel, commonly known as the Psycho Sixty-Six, which bases its operations out of this restaurant, the Green Dragon.  Now, this is strictly a reconnaissance mission, we need that evidence to confront the Green Dragon’s leaders with in court – and you know as good as I do what that means, right Lara?  No shooting.  No hand-cut bushido on the bad guys’ asses.  In fact, no breaking cover of no kind whatsoever, we clear on that?”

Lara mock-pouted: “Spoil my fun”.  She turned a corner and saw a pair of swinging double-doors up ahead.  Behind them the club’s main dance floor and chic lounge area were packed out in full swing.  She braced herself.

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger”, Zip replied, “you know we’re working undercover with interpol on this one, so for the time being at least, their rules is our rules”.

“I know, I know”, Lara neared the door, a funky jive beat swelling from the dancefloor as she got closer.  “I’ll play along – let the bad guys get away in the short term, just this once, so we can nail them in the long term.  I just wish I didn’t feel so... oh, I don’t know, naked without my pistols”.

She could also feel her dress’s too-tight hemline riding up over the backs of her thighs with every step that she took, slowly but surely revealing the undersides of her supple white ass-cheeks – which didn’t help.

Zip cleared his throat: “And the fact that the Psycho Sixty-Six are rumoured to have in their possession a certain one-of-a-kind and notoriously hard-to-come-by ancient Ming artefact?  That wouldn’t have anything to do with your sudden interest in upholding the law, would it boss?”

“Oh, that”, Lara smiled.  “Purely a happy coincidence”.

“Yeah, well, whatever the circumstances”, Zip continued, “you’re gonna have to come up with some way of staying in the room with Boss Tanaka and his henchmen for long enough to record some pertinent info on the big deal that’s supposed to be going down today.  Think you can manage that?”

“In this outfit?”, Lara arched an eyebrow.  “In a roomful of men?  Zip, I really don’t think that’s going to be a problem”.

Zip chuckled.  “Good point”.

Lara toed open the double-doors and entered a big room filled with music, sweat, people, noise and smoke.

 

To be continued...