Italy
2012
2012
Desmond and Jameel explained what had happened to the others in another room. Back in the room with the Animus, which the others felt he was safe enough in alone, Lex rolled idly about in Shaun's desk chair, occasionally glancing at the maps, faces, and places he had posted up on his web board above the computer desk.
"You know, I like my chair in a certain place, mate." Lex turned toward Shaun. "It's not really that polite to just plop down and start rolling about. You'll mark up the floor and then Lucy will have both our arses, won't she? After all, this place's only a rental."
"I guess." Lex leaned forward, hands placed on the chair between his legs, feet propped up on the splayed feet of the chair now that he wasn't wheeling around the room. He stared at the floor, saying nothing. The Brit sighed and broke with his usual pleasant decorum to kneel in front of the other, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"Look as if you've been through hell. Can I get you anything?" Lex looked at him. Shaun lifted a brow so that it rested above the frame of his glasses. "Tea? Cake? Coffee? Scones? Biscotti? Gilatto? I've heard Turkish delight's stashed around here somewhere. And we can always steal a couple of Lucy's yogurts."
"Not hungry. Thanks, though."
"Suit yourself." He patted the younger man's shoulder and stood to leave the room again.
"Shaun?"
"You want that yogurt now?"
"No, but..." Shaun turned, folding his arms over his chest. Lex dragged his fingers through his hair, pressing his palms to his face. "You're good with your computers, right?"
"Bloody stupid of me to be the techno-wizard if I'm not, lad, but I'll bite. What's your real question?"
"Can you look up someone for me? On whatever databases you can access? Even just a Goddamned Google search would be awesome." Lex traded places with Shaun, letting the man roll up to his desk and begin typing.
"You can't access the Googleplex yourself?" Fingers flew across the keyboard, barely leaving it to move the mouse with the pad in the center of the laptop.
"Not like you probably can."
"I take your compliment and raise you the inserting of your query here, my timey-wimey comrade." Shaun looked at him expectantly. Lex thought for a moment.
"Can you look up a woman named Fiona MacManus?"
"Right. Right, now, that's MacManus, M-A-C?" He glanced at Lex, who nodded. "M-A-N-U-S?" A further nod. A few more keys were punched. "All right, let's sit back for a minute and let the magic work." Shaun stood and went to Rebecca's desk, rolling her chair over for Lex to have a seat. Returning to his own, he leaned forward and looked the smaller Assassin in the eye. "I'd like to know who you're having me search for. It's not often that I do this kind of thing for free, y'know."
"Not like I have the money to pay you."
"Oh, I'm sure your boyfriend might stick his wallet out for you, if not his neck. Do you want me to cancel the search? I'm curious now."
"My mother."
"Beg pardon?"
"She's my--" The two looked up at the screen as a small noise sounded from it. Shaun frowned, eyebrows pinching beneath his glasses as he moved forward again. He mumbled to himself under his breath, the words low enough and thick enough with an accent he couldn't quite identify that he didn't catch them.
Shaun sucked in and let out a harsh breath through his teeth, dropping back into his chair.
"Oh, no, no, no, no..."
"What?" Lex shuddered, feeling lightheaded as the blood drained from his face. "Shaun, what's wrong?" He moved toward the screen, but his way was blocked. "Shaun, let me see the computer." Once more, Shaun knelt, hands on both of the younger man's shoulders this time. Whether he was holding himself steady as he balanced on the balls of his feet, or holding him in place, Lex wasn't sure.
"She was one of us."
"An Assassin?"
"A new informant on the Templars."
"Really? That's awesome!"
"Darlin', shurrit." Lex obeyed, if only for being stunned at being called darling by the man and uncomprehending of the command to be silent. Shaun let out a long breath, shaking him lightly by the shoulders before drawing him close. "Was. She was one of us."
"What happened?"
"You don't want to know."
"Shaun. Tell me what happened."
"You don't want to see it."
"There's a video? Let me see it."
"You don't want to be living with that memory of your mother, mate, trust me."
"Damn it, Shaun, ******** lemme see it! Please! I don't have any memories of her, don't you get that? Let me see the feed! Please." Lex swallowed thickly, choking down the tears he felt in his eyes. "Please." Shaun sighed again, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Fine. Fine." He returned the spectacles to his face. "Be on your head." Lex moved to his seat and opened the file Shaun had closed.
A woman dressed in a hoodie, jeans, and white and black sneakers, which shone in the dim light on the video feed. She had something glowing in her hand. What it was, he couldn't make out on the grainy nighttime feed.
Pop, pop, pop. The woman slumped against the wall, the glowing object falling from her grip. Darker sections colored her light hoodie.
"Do you have the item?" asked a disembodied voice on the video.
"Affirmative," said one of the men with guns that strode into view, a hand pressed to his ear. "Item retrieved." He went to the woman and touched her neck. "She's dead." The image dissolved into a snowfield of static.
It took Shaun a half second to realize the odd, keening noise was coming from the younger man, who all but banged his head through the desk a moment later.
"Oi, oi, oi!" He jerked the teen up by the scruff of his shirt and pinned him against the chair back. "Bloody stupid thing t'do, en't it, daft sod? Lookit me!" He pushed Lex's hair back, inspecting the nice, new bruise on his head. "Have you gone mental? Taken leave of your ******** faculties, eh? I told you you shouldn't see it. Lookit yah, yer a sobbin' wreck..."
Lex choked as he heard this, realizing he was indeed sobbing his lungs into the man's sweater-vest, but only tightened the grip his arms had gained around his neck. "Easy now, mate, easy." He kissed the spot on his head, which was growing salty with sweat with each fresh round of tears pressed into his chest. He began to rock, slowly, sitting back on his heels until he was able to get his a** to navigate into the nearest wheelie chair without falling flat, drawing the smaller, sobbing form to him.
There he continued to rock, gently as he could, stroking the sweat-dampened hair back from the tear-streaked face.
Shaun finally looked up from Lex, who'd cried himself into a silent stupor, as footsteps sounded on the ramp up to the room, his neck popping nicely in the process. Jameel looked at the Sparrow, then at the man holding him and asked, "Is he asleep?"
"No, he's just been... What time is it?"
"Past your tea time."
"Go shag that Yank downstairs, you smarmy dickhead. Your boyfriend's been up here sobbing into my chest for..."--he managed to detach one of his stiff arms from around the other's body to look at his watch--"...two and a half glorious hours, and you decide to make a wise-crack about my beverage of choice?"
Jameel advanced on the man. Shaun moved back instinctively until he found himself pressed up against his desk. Jameel leaned forward, arms on either side of the Brit.
"Guys. Enough." The two looked down at the little ball of clothing huddled on Shaun's lap. "I'm still down here." Jameel knelt to be at eye level with his lover, pressing the Sparrow's cheek gently with his hand.
"What happened?" Lex shut his eyes, leaning his face into the Red Owl's palm. Bang, bang, bang. That's what it should have sounded like. Instead of pop, pop, pop. That was too much like firecrackers. It shouldn't have sounded so...festive as the bullets pierced through his mother's body on the recording, now in his mind, replaying again and again.
"Don't want to talk about it yet."
"Well, did you find out anything from him?" came Lucy's voice from the ramp.
"Oh, no, I didn't really have time to ask him about Pieces of Eden while my head was almost chopped off!" Desmond snapped. Jameel shook his head and picked Lex up into his arms, carrying him to the beds in the back of the room.
"Are you two really going to sleep again? That can't be healthy," Rebecca quipped.
"Hey, little missus. Shut up," said Shaun, turning back toward his computer. Jameel glanced toward Lucy, who had moved to stand at the foot of the set of steps that led up to the bed area.
"Can you tell us anything you know about the Apple of Eden?"
"It's round and sparkles in the sunlight," Jameel muttered, whispering into Lex's hair, "Are you going to be all right?" The Sparrow nodded, settling his head on his Owl's chest. Couldn't the questions wait until later? "Look, if you want to really know about the Pieces of Eden, go look up--"
The alarms sounded.
"They're here!" Shaun yelled.
Everything became a flurry of motion. In the chaos of the three modern Assassins running about, gathering their equipment, Jameel looked at the Sparrow. Lex looked back at him, then at Desmond. The barkeep nodded, the time travelers racing down the ramp, outpacing Lucy as Jameel made his way after them, catching up in a few short strides.
Men in gray uniforms were racing through the building, collapsible batons springing into shape in their hands. Hidden blades were unsheathed and buried into unprotected backs, stomachs, and throats. Lucy brought a few men down with punches. Jameel leaped onto a man coming at her from behind, severing his spine with a quick jerk after he'd borne him to the ground. Desmond sent a fount of blood spilling from another man's neck. Lex looked up as he heard slow footfalls on the concrete, the easy tread of one in complete control.
The man from the Abstergo building in New York, the old man he'd seen walking there before finding Desmond, stood there. The Sparrow withdrew his blade from his last victim's chest.
"Mr. Miles, this is an unexpectedly pleasant turn of events!" he cried. The small Assassin felt his blood run cold. It was the disembodied voice from the video feed. "And here I thought I'd have to waste more men on you. Kind of you to save me the trouble."
Desmond and Lucy looked at the man as the barkeep demanded, "What do you want, Vidic?"
"For you to come home! We miss you terribly." Jameel looked toward Lex, unease creeping into his gut. His eyes were fixed ahead on the man in the labcoat and slacks. "There's still so much work for us to do together."
"It's not happening, Warren," said Lucy, face scrunched as she spat the man's name.
"You continue to disappoint in every conceivable way, Ms. Stillman." His tone took on a harsh bitterness. "I saved your life once. Do you remember? And this is how you repay me?"
"Oh, shut the ******** up!" The three looked at Lex. "Enough villainous banter! If you're going to send more cannon fodder at us, just do it so we can kill them and you!" The man gave him a long, sideways look, skimming his eyes up and down the young man. Lex moved toward him, his second hidden blade sliding into view. "Otherwise, you and I need to have a little chat."
More men rushed onto the scene, as well as Shaun and Rebecca, who'd been busily stowing their things into their van. Desmond hurried forward with Jameel, the three ramming their blades into the men, slicing and stabbing. From the corner of his eye, the Red Owl caught Shaun backhanding one of the Templar henchmen with his own baton.
Lex stabbed two men through the middle who tried to rush him at once, looking up toward Vidic. Desmond was busily taunting the man with, "Uh-oh, looks like it's just you and me, doc." Vidic now stood in the back of a truck, what looked like a small moving van. What the hell are you doing, Dessy? Kill him!
"Enjoy your victory, Mr. Miles," said Vidic from his position in the truck, "temporary as it is." The truck rumbled to life. Vidic steadied himself on the side of the trailer bed's wall. No, no, no, he's going to get away! What's the matter with you? Stop him! He's right there!
"******** you and your insurmountable waist-high fence!" Desmond gagged as he was suddenly eating concrete, Lex having used his shoulder as a springboard to launch himself into the truck, tackling Vidic down. His hidden blade came down toward the old man's face.
Pain shot through his stomach and side as the Sparrow suddenly found himself bashed into the wall of the trailer across from where Vidic now sprawled. Groaning, he opened his eyes to a pair of black Chuck Taylors. A pale hand reached down, gripping his shirt and pulling him up off the floor. His middle screamed in protest, feet touching nothing but air and the wall. He tried to push against this, to knock this new attacker off balance, but this only earned him being slammed against the cold metal. His ears rang for a minute before a voice spoke in his ear.
It was a jarring accent to hear after so long away from the TV. Lex's mind immediately conjured images of Tony Soprano and The Godfather--a mobster accent for all his brain could manage to compute after the bashing his head had been given.
"As much as I appreciate the TV tropes reference and hate my boss, I can't let you kill him," said the man. Then, even more jarring than being tossed around like a rag-doll, his ear was bitten. Lex felt his breath catch in his chest, eyes widening. He strangled a whimper, unable to keep from trembling. "Dio, voglio scoparti così male!"
"Enough!" Vidic snapped, having finally found his feet again. "This isn't one of your video games. Kill him or give him over to me."
The blonde man--Lex now noticed the hair sticking from beneath the cap he wore, one of the flickering spots of brightness as they shot by streetlamps--shot a venomous glare over his shoulder at his employer and hissed, "Taci, succhiacazzi vecchio!" He returned his attention to Lex, forcing the Assassin around. The Sparrow flailed, his back and heels touched nothing but wind. He tried to find his attacker's eyes and found nothing but tinted lenses. "Mi dispiace. Magari la promissa volta." Lips crushed his for a second, a tongue scraping the roof of his mouth. "Mmmm. Addio, mio bello. Mi mancherai."
He gasped as the hands holding him up suddenly vanished, the world turning end over end before he finally rolled to a stop. Stinging pain lanced through his shoulders, arms, and legs. Skin was sure to have been scraped off. Lex stared up at the revolving sky, trying to find where his inner ear had gone as he rolled onto his forearms and knees. Small hisses of pain were ground out through his teeth as he stood up, only then the sound of a horn and the brightness of headlights reaching up.
"Ya Allah!" The scream tore itself from his lips as he froze, arms up in a pathetic attempt to shield himself. He didn't expect being run over to feel like being knocked to the ground for the umpteenth time that week. Then again, he'd never really been hit by a car before. Maybe that was what it was like.
"Well, that's one way t'try'n'hail a cab, laddie." He opened his eyes and looked up into a grinning face surrounded on either side by a curtain of dark brown hair. Sleeves of ink ran up the man's arms. The face, besides sporting a grin, also revealed rather tan features, three earrings in each of his rescuer's ears, a ring through his eyebrow, and a stud in his nose. "Dunnae make a habit of it, or yer wee brother'll have me head."
"My bro--Amir? you know Amir?"
"Sent me to save you. Looks as if he was right again." He sat up, onto his knees, revealing a green T-shirt with an image of the infamous Flying Spaghetti Monster emblazoned on the front and dirty blue jeans ripped nearly into shorts at the knee. He stood up on sandal-clad feet and stretched out his hand. Lex took it, allowing himself to be pulled up.
"Who are you?"
"Brian."
"You're an Assassin too?"
"It doesn't pay the rent, but I can tell you where your friends are." He pointed. Lex looked. Jameel and Desmond had just come from around a corner, spotted him, and were running over. He turned back to Brian, but the man was already gone.
"Are you all right?" Jameel asked breathlessly.
"I think I hallucinated a Pastafarian," admitted the Sparrow.
"A what?" Desmond gasped, panting heavily as if he'd run the enter way from the abandoned hide out.
"Never mind. Where to now?" Lex fell in step with them as they made their way back to the van that idled in an alleyway for them. Jameel smiled a fleeting, wistful smile as he lifted his bruised little bird into the back of the van.
"We're going to visit the home of our old Auditore friend."
Rome, Italy
2012
2012
The top of the bell tower of the Basilica di San Bartolomeo all'Isola provided a nice view to those seated upon it of the Tiber Island and the Roman city proper sprawled around them to the horizon's edges.
Brian took a seat and looked toward where the Vatican and its connected Castello lay, the city within the Eternal City.
"Did you find him?" asked the woman, his cousin, to his right.
"Aye. Saved him too."
"Good work," said the dark man behind her.
"Merci boucoup, mon ami." The Haitian smiled at the accented French.
"What of the others, cousin?" said the tall man directly behind him at the other corner of the roof.
"They're safe too."
"The Templars haven't gotten their hands on the item either," commented a new voice, one that sent shivers down Brian's spine. He looked toward the Jordanian sniper seated opposite his male cousin and flashed him a grin. "Vidic looked pissed from where I sat."
"Inconvenienced and annoyed, but he thinks he can still win. Thanks for loaning your eyes."
"Anytime."
"Now that we've gotten the congratulations out of the way, we have to decide something." The tattooed man looked toward the apex of the bell tower where a young boy sat with his arms and legs wrapped loosely around the spire of one of the church's two crosses. "What are we going to do about our mole?"
