Working things out.
Lara often found that if something was preying on her mind, the best thing to do was to work it out through her body. When she wasn't traveling or on a raid, she would train, fight one of Bryce's newest robotic opponents, run laps of Croft Manor, or go horseback riding. Unfortunately, she had no Bryce, no robots, no Croft Manor and no horse, so lately she had been forced to more or less make do.
And just look what had happened.
She was worried that, by seeking a distraction, she had only caused another complication. That was the last thing she needed. Certainly, being stuck here without anything to think about was bad, but being stuck here and having too much to think about was worse.
She needed another distraction. A simple one, this time.
Lara found it that very day when, while she was on her way to the restaurant, she spotted a half-open door in the hotel lobby, next to the elevators. It was the door to the emergency stairwell, and she was certain that before now it had been securely locked.
The stairs stretched downwards, giving no clue as to what was at the bottom. Lara checked to make sure the one gun she had chosen to bring with her today was securely tucked into her waistband, underneath her shirt, before she started down the stairs.
At the bottom, she found the perfect distraction: An Olympic-sized swimming pool and a gym that Arnold Schwartzernegger wouldn't have sneezed at.
Lara smiled.
Half an hour later, she was sweating it out on a treadmill cranked up to its top speed. This was just what she needed.
Later, she would wonder at the airport's tendency to provide exactly what was needed at just the right moment. It was becoming a disturbing trend.
And just look what had happened.
She was worried that, by seeking a distraction, she had only caused another complication. That was the last thing she needed. Certainly, being stuck here without anything to think about was bad, but being stuck here and having too much to think about was worse.
She needed another distraction. A simple one, this time.
Lara found it that very day when, while she was on her way to the restaurant, she spotted a half-open door in the hotel lobby, next to the elevators. It was the door to the emergency stairwell, and she was certain that before now it had been securely locked.
The stairs stretched downwards, giving no clue as to what was at the bottom. Lara checked to make sure the one gun she had chosen to bring with her today was securely tucked into her waistband, underneath her shirt, before she started down the stairs.
At the bottom, she found the perfect distraction: An Olympic-sized swimming pool and a gym that Arnold Schwartzernegger wouldn't have sneezed at.
Lara smiled.
Half an hour later, she was sweating it out on a treadmill cranked up to its top speed. This was just what she needed.
Later, she would wonder at the airport's tendency to provide exactly what was needed at just the right moment. It was becoming a disturbing trend.