The Swimsuit Contest
by Andrew Mason aka Dr. Amazing

This is a work of fiction.  Tombraider and Lara Croft are both trademark and copyright of EIDOS Interactive and Core design.  All other characters are copyright of the author.

            This story contains violent and sexual content and is suggested for mature readers (18 and over).
            Comments, complimentary or critical, can be addressed to: dramazin@alphalink.com.au

“Lara Croft.”

            “Why sugar, I’ve heard a heap ‘bout you!  Ol’ Pete, he don’t ever shut up when he talks ‘bout the fabulous adventurer, Lara Croft.  My, my, and you’re as purty as he’s been sayin’.”

            Lara frowned.  “Is that accent real?”

            Cassie laughed.  “Caught me,” she said, in a rich transatlantic voice.  “My manager swears that Texan girls are the ‘in thing’ at present.  He says I can be the next Jerry Hall, so I’m doing as I’m told.  I was born in New York, truth to tell.  Mind you, if I had to choose, I’d prefer to have an accent like yours.  That pure, refined English voice is captivating.”

            “Thank you,” said Lara.

            “And that’s not all.  I can see why Pete likes you so much, and why Christina likes you so little.”

            Cassie’s eyes were roaming over Lara’s figure.  ‘Lord give me strength,’ thought Lara.  ‘Is everyone here going to ogle me?’

            “Did I hear you tell Christina your breasts are real?”

            “Yes, but I don’t....”

            “Of course, she’d love to have a breast job like mine, but she’s too well known.  Her fans would know immediately she’d had it done.”

            Lara was flabbergasted.  She was having a conversation about breasts with a woman she’d only just met.

            “Surprised?” asked Cassie.  “They look real don’t they?  They feel real too.  Here, see for yourself.”

            She took Lara’s hand and placed it onto her chest, squeezing it into her flesh.  Lara quickly pulled her hand away.

            “Good work, hmm?  Now let’s compare it to the real thing.”

            Before Lara could move away Cassie had grabbed her left breast, squeezing it as though testing the ripeness of a piece of fruit.

            Lara slapped her hand away.  “That’s quite enough!” she exclaimed, red-faced with outrage.

            “Don’t be offended, honey,” said Cassie, falling back into her southern drawl.  “You’ve got a lovely pair, almost as firm as mine.”

            “If you touch me again, I’ll break your nose.”  If Cassie had been a man, she probably already would have.

            “Don’t be so upset, sugar.  We girls have to stick together.  You know what I mean?”

            Cassie came closer and if not for Peter’s intervention Lara might well have made good on her threat.  “Steady on, girls,” said Peter.  “Let’s not start any arguments.  We’re going to be on a remote island together for a few days, so let’s not make any enemies now.”

            “Just keep her away from me,” warned Lara, still glaring at Cassie.

            “Don’t you worry, Pete.  Lara and I won’t be enemies, will we darlin’?  I’m sure we’re gonna be the very best of friends.”

            Lara glared fiercely at her.  Peter put his arm around Lara and steered her away from the other woman.

            “I’m sorry Lara,” said Peter, as they walked across the tarmac to the jet.  “I should have warned you about Cassie.  I didn’t know she would take such a fancy to you.  Still, I can’t fault her taste.”

            Lara shrugged off his arm.  “You can keep your distance too Chifley, unless you fancy looking though your viewfinder with a black eye.”

            He smiled at her, not the least bit perturbed.  She wished he didn’t have such perfect teeth, such a killer smile.  “Truth is Lara, I wish I had my camera right now.  You’re gorgeous when you’re angry!”

            “Well you’re going to get a lot of good shots then.  The way things are going I’m going to be permanently angry.”

            “You’ll feel better when we get to Madunai.  Come on, I’ll introduce you to the last of the other models.”

            Lara could see the woman he referred to.  She was at the jet, ordering the loading of her baggage.  She was tall and slim, her dark hair and dark dress contrasting with the pallor of her skin.

            “What is she?” asked Lara.  “A vampire?”

            “Lara!  I’d not thought you to be the catty type!  That’s the sort of comment I’d expect from Christina about her competitors.”

            “Understand this, Chifley.  These girls are not my competitors.  I don’t care who wins your damn contest.  I just want to get to Madunai Island.”

            They had reached the jet.  “Lara Croft, I’d like you to meet Maia.”

            The pale model studied her through her Ray-bans.

            “Maia?” asked Lara.  “Just Maia?”

            “One name only,” replied Maia, in a deep resonant voice.  “Only one needed.”

            “Like Cher, or Madonna,” chipped in Peter.

            Another weirdo, thought Lara.  “You don’t seem to have spent much time in the sun,” she said.

            “I love the sun, but the moon is in love with me,” was Maia’s cryptic reply.  Then, with her baggage stowed, she moved to the jet’s entry ladder.

            Chifley escorted Lara in Maia’s wake, introducing her to a hairdresser, a makeup artist, a ‘scheduler’ and a wardrobe assistant.  The last title brought a wry smile to Lara’s face:  how much assistance would they need getting into their bikinis?

            Carla, the makeup artist, was a middle-aged Latino woman who was looking at Maia’s pale skin with anxiety.  Jason, the hairdresser, was an effeminate man who seemed intent on adhering to the gay hairdresser stereotype.  Jack, the wardrobe man, was a beefy, red-faced man holding a can of beer.  Lara suspected was already drunk.  He gave Lara a bleary-eyed smile and she suppressed a shudder.  His services would definitely not be required.

            She turned to Lorna, the scheduler, a sharp-faced young woman with an air of efficiency.  “Has all my gear been stowed?” she asked.

            “You girls!” chided the woman.  “We’re only on the island for a few days, and we’ll be providing your wardrobe, but to look at your baggage you’d think you were going on an expedition.”

            Lara saw Peter smile but he said nothing.

            “I’d like to be sure it’s all aboard, nevertheless,” said Lara.

            The scheduler led her to the baggage area to the rear of the plane’s exterior.  Lara counted her cases while Lorna ticked a checklist she carried.

            “All present and accounted for,” said Lorna, not trying to conceal her annoyance.

            “I appreciate your thoroughness,” said Lara.

            The woman sniffed disdainfully then moved to the boarding ladder.  Everyone else had already boarded the jet and when Lara entered the cabin she saw that only two seats remained available.  Cassie had kept a space clear next to her and it appeared that no-one had wanted to sit beside Christina.  Lara chose to sit beside the latter:  she would prefer being insulted to being groped.

            Lara opened her carry-on bag and pulled out a manila folder.  While the plane taxied across the tarmac she refreshed her memory about Madunai island, continuing to read as the plane took off.

            The dig had been found three years ago and was supervised by David Crombie, a man she had met briefly at an architectural conference five years ago.  Knowing him had not helped her to get access to the dig, which had been sealed tight against all enquiries.  Early reports spoke of the largest Cadachac building ever found, all of it underground.  It had been referred to in hieroglyphs on the wall of an Inca ruin, a reference that had led to the discovery.  The Inca glyph for forbidden appeared nearby and it appeared that the Incas had never attempted to overtake the island, although they had conquered all other Cadachac cities.

            The lost, forbidden city of the greatest mystic race of the Americas was intriguing enough to make Lara forget the company she now kept.  At least, until Christina spoke.

            “Are you trying to look intellectual?” she asked contemptuously.

            Lara ignored her.

            “It doesn’t matter how smart you pretend to be, or how smart you are, when a woman looks like you she’s going to be identified as one thing only.”

            “And that is?”

            “A bimbo, honey.  Just another bimbo.”

            “But not you?  I suppose your intellect has made you famous, rather than your looks?”

            Christina leaned over, fixing her dark green eyes on Lara.  “Listen to me Croft.  I get respect for one reason and one reason only.  I insist on it.  I have it written into all my contracts.  If I am not treated with the deference I deserve, I leave and will not work for that employer again.  So learn from me, Croft, don’t bother earning respect.  Make them pay for it.”

            She turned back to the magazine she was reading.  Lara was left to ponder the strange philosophy she’d been given.

            Chifley materialised beside her.  “All OK girls?” he asked.

            “Fine, just fine,” said Lara mordantly.

            “No major complaints, as yet,” said Christina.

            “Good, good.  Lorna and I have been trying to organise the sleeping arrangements on this island.  We were wondering if you two would be willing to be room-mates.”

            Lara was about to protest when Christina did it for her and with more volume.

            “Room-mates!  What the hell are you suggesting Chifley?  I have never, never, been asked to share accommodation and I am not about to start doing it now!”

            “It was in your contract Christina,” said Chifley patiently.

            “Well I didn’t see it!  You’ll be hearing from my agent Chifley!”

            “Your agent agreed to the terms.”

            “Then you’ll hear from my new agent!  Get me a mobile phone!”

            “Don’t bother,” said Lara.  “I’ll sleep wherever you put me Chifley.  I have a tent amongst my gear and I’d be happy to use it.”

            Chifley gave her a look of appreciation then said, “Well we have that settled then.”

            “I still need to speak to my agent,” persisted Christina.

            “We have no mobile phones,” said Lorna, who had appeared by Chifley’s side.

            “What?  What madness is this?”

            Lorna spoke with the patience of experience.  “Grainger Incorporated, the company financing the dig, only agreed to our presence provided our communications from the island were all done through them.  This was also in your contract, Christina.”

            “I can’t believe my agent would have agreed to this!”  The woman was livid, her face flushed in anger.

            “He had no choice Christina.  This was all arranged at short notice, at your insistence as I recall.  Don’t you remember?  You’d heard that Miss Croft would be on this shoot, you’d heard that Peter would be shooting her, and you demanded to be included in the same group.”

            Christina fell silent but her green eyes were still furious.

            Lorna was enjoying herself.  “Don’t you remember?  You words, as I recall, were ‘F... the conditions, get me onto the same shoot as the Croft bitch!’  I think that’s word for word, isn’t it?”

            Christina reddened further and turned her face to the window.  Lara considered saying something, then decided against it.  She decided to risk sitting next to Cassie after all.

            Chifley and Lorna returned to their seats, wearing triumphant smiles.  No-one, it seemed, felt any warmth for Christina.  Lara rose, moved down the aisle, then dropped into the only other vacant space.

            “Lara honey!” exclaimed Cassie in her Texan drawl.

            “Tell me Cassie,” asked Lara softly, “why would Christina insist on being on the same shoot as me?”

            “You can blame ol’ Pete for that.  He’s been talkin’ about you for months honey, and how he’s going to win the cover contest with you.  Rumour is that the judges liked his work last year and will be looking favourably at his shots this year.  They say he’ll win this year if he has the right model.  Now Christina hears all this and you can bet she ain’t happy about it.  Simple answer is this, honey--I think she’s come onto this shoot to sabotage you.”

            Lara frowned.  “This is crazy!  I don’t care about winning this contest yet she hates me for entering it.”

            “Well we all say we don’t care about winning, sugar, but the truth is we all want to.”

            “No, not me.  I only entered the damn contest so I could get a look at Madunai Island.”

            “That’s right!  Pete did tell me ‘bout your interest in ruins.”

            Cassie looked out her window.  “Do you want to swap seats?  I think we’re coming down on the island now.”

            “Thanks Cassie,” said Lara.  She moved next to the window and gazed down at the ocean.  A small island was visible, its features becoming clearer as they approached it.

            “Is that Madunai?” asked Cassie, leaning forward and pressing her breast into Lara’s arm.

            “I’ll know soon enough.  Yes, I believe it is.”

            The island was covered in wild jungle, with the exception of a clearing near its centre.  There was a short runway to the north, with thick foliage at either end, a sight that she did not enjoy.  She could make out a number of rudimentary huts and frowned, anticipating endless complaints from Christina about the accommodation.  Near the huts were mounds of earth, encircling a stone edifice.  She could make out no details at this distance.

            “You know, you could share a cabin with me,” breathed Cassie in her ear.  “I can guarantee I’ll be more entertaining than Christina.”

            Lara turned to her and gave her a blistering stare.  “Let me make this clear to you Cassie, so there will be no unpleasantness.  I am not interested.  Is that clear?”

            Cassie smiled.  “Clear as day, hon.  Still, if you don’t ask, you don’t find out, do you?”

            Lara nodded, then buckled her seat belt.  She turned away from Cassie and went through a relaxation mantra that she had learned in Tibet.

            “You nervous, sugar?  Damn it, I’d have sworn you were afraid o’nothing.”

            Lara paused and looked at Cassie.  She considered ignoring her, then decided to explain.  “I was in a plane crash, when I was young.  Nervous?  Yes, I still get nervous in planes, especially landings.”

            She closed her eyes and returned to her mantra.  Cassie studied her face, marvelling at the smoothness of her skin, the fullness of her lips, the aristocratic beauty that defined her.  Even in an industry of beautiful women Lara would still turn heads.  ‘No wonder Christina hates her,’ thought Cassie.

            The plane landed safely on the runway and the occupants disembarked.  The jungle was uncomfortably close to the runway and the huts Lara had seen from the air were about half a kilometre away to the south down a narrow dirt trail.  There was no-one in sight but the sounds of large machinery could be heard from the south.

            “This is awful, simply awful!” cried an outraged Christina.  “Are we meant to make our own way through the jungle?”

            She grabbed the arm of the burly wardrobe assistant, commandeering him to unload her baggage.

            “So wonderfully wild,” said Maia, as if in a dream.  She stepped off the plane and started to walk towards the jungle.

            “Peter, will you see to her?” ordered Lorna.  “Stop her getting herself killed?  I’ll see where the welcome party has got to.”

            Lorna marched off to the south with anger apparent in her every stride.  “She’s not happy,” said Chifley, who then pursued Maia to the edge of the jungle, halting her there.

            Everyone disembarked and Lara stood, hands on hips, surveying the tropical foliage around them.  The absence of any reception had unsettled them all except Lara, who preferred to arrive unannounced wherever she went.  Nevertheless, something did seem strange.

            “Listen, Miss Hayes, there’s bound to be a car to take our baggage,” protested Jack.  “I can’t carry all these cases!”

            “Agreed,” said Christina.  “Just bring that one,” she commanded, pointing to the biggest of her half dozen suitcases.

            She began to march off after Lorna and Jack began to obey her, until Lara laid a firm hand on her arm.

            “Wait Christina,” said Lara.  “There’s something amiss here.  Let’s stay together until we know what it is.”

            “Something amiss?  I’ll say there is.  Every damned courtesy is missing.”
 

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