Stephane stopped him just as he got out of his car. "It's bad Connor, I don't know if you want to be here."

Connor could already see two bodies on the sidewalk covered by sheets behind the line of police tape, and knew there was another inside. The wife and daughter had already been sent to the hospital with an escort, but no one was sure it would be enough. Connor had warned Haytham, and here he was being proven right.

"Apologies, but there is no one else. You heard about the attack at Abstergo." The story was that a disgruntled customer and an ex-employee had gone on a rampage. Malik and Yusuf were already taking care of that case, and it was Ugo's night off. Connor was the only one. Stephane grimaced all the same.

"Still, it's going to be bad. I know you were friends with the family." He warned again, reaching out as if to brace Connor's shoulder, but he stopped himself and gestured to the restaurant instead. "If you're sure, go ahead then. Jamie was finishing up inside."

Connor nodded and pulled his kit from the backseat. From the street the lines of police tape and flashing lights drowned out the smaller flashes from camera phones. He showed his badge to the officer guarding the line and bent under the plastic in one practiced move, already cataloguing the shell casings he'd need to start photographing first.

Jamie stepped out of the restaurant's doorway, shaking his head sadly. Connor didn't break stride as he made his way to the coroner, walking carefully around one of the pools of blood. He sighed when he saw footprints marring the evidence, but it was inevitable in a high-profile crime scene.

"Oh, Connor, it's good to see you." Jamie perked up and waved him into the restaurant itself, away from the lights and noise. Inside the normally dim lights had been brightened fully, and the solid tables and chairs were knocked over more often than not. At first glance it looked like the panic had spread from the front to the back, but some broken plates a server had been holding implied otherwise.

"He's over here, poor child. Petruccio Auditore. His father and eldest brother are outside. Looks like he tried to run to the back and hide when the gunmen came in." Jamie led him to the corpse, a young male in his early teens, maybe younger, shoulder length black hair and a certain kind of roundness to his face.

"This did not start in the front. And we both know that this was not a robbery gone wrong, though the Captain is likely to try and imply it." Connor knelt beside the boy and set down his kit. A pair of gloves went on as he examined the entry wounds. A gunshot to the chest - Connor tilted the body to check - no exit wound. From the size probably a .30 caliber and from the tiny black speckles around the entry point it had been close range.

"Someone stared straight into this little fellow's eyes as they pulled the trigger. If you're right, they probably didn't even blink." Jamie shook his head sadly. "The two outside are much the same, though from the bruising and defensive wounds they fought back. I'd get to them as soon as you can, there's likely to be more evidence there."

Connor breathed slowly through his nose, pulling a slip of paper out of the corpse's pocket. It was a folded up spelling test, with a big red '100%' and a sticker of a feather on the top. His jaw twitched and he exhaled angrily through his teeth.

"Poor child." Jamie murmured. Connor pulled off his gloves and snapped his case shut. Jamie gave him a quick bracing pat on the shoulder before leaving Connor alone.

He closed his eyes, centering himself for a moment before he reopened them to a world of black and white. Grey shadows sat in chairs that had been tipped, eating off tables that had been overturned. A table in the front was surrounded by a family that glowed a blue so bright it burned. The smallest - the boy - and another stood and walked toward the back. Connor turned and there, red shadows waiting under the sign that said 'Washrooms'. The pair of blues got closer, and the taller resolved into the faint form of a woman. She gasped and clutched the boy's shoulders, but one of the reds held up a gun and Connor flinched at the echo of the shot.

The boy crumpled and his mother held him, her screams almost loud enough to hear. The grey masses turned and heaved; shocked, frightened, confused. Then there was the ringing echo of more gunshots from the front doors, and three more men burst inside, two reds and a gold. A pair of the blues jumped up to engage the reds and gold while the remaining two came to help the boy and his sobbing mother. One, a young girl, dropped to her knees next to their mother, trying to pull her behind the cover of an upturned table. The other, a young man, went after the pair that had shot his little brother.

Connor blinked, and the world's colour filled back in abruptly. He could still see the traces of blue, red and gold clinging to what he'd started photographing in his half-awake state. He finished up with the photos of the back door and tagged a few short hairs that'd gotten caught in it before they blew away. Checking his watch showed it had only been ten minutes, which was probably as long as Jamie and Stephane could spare for him. He headed back outside to start processing the other bodies, and to ask what had happened to Ezio.