Lara Croft stepped out of Lloyd’s Bank and onto the short flight of stairs that led to the car park. A light rain drizzled down, glazing the rows of cars. The weather was cold for a June day and a shiver ran through her. The hairs on the back her of her neck stood up as she headed for her car. For years, this was her sign that danger was nearby.
Looking around cautiously, she spotted a teenage girl emerging from behind a mini-van. The girl scurried toward her. Lara felt her body tense up, though she couldn’t imagine what kind of threat the girl posed—she looked harmless enough. The girl’s short, blond hair was soaking wet and flattened against her scalp. Greedy blue eyes peered out of a round face. She wore a black tank top and jeans that were torn at the knees.
“Someone just robbed me!” she said, her eyes wide with terror.
“Oh dear.” Lara took a step back.
“The bloody wanker stole my jacket,” the girl continue