He sat on his perch, solitary. The ants crawled between the buildings beneath him, endlessly scurrying. He watched them with sharp eyes as the wind flowed around him, warm and calming, but not hindering his statuesque figure.
Averting his eyes from the throngs below, he gazes around him at the infinite mass of buildings, neatly dealt out in front of him, but cluttering into jumbled masses closer to the horizon. This landscape spread out all around him, only breaking up for trees or occasionally a tall building of some significance.
Knowing it was time, he pulled up his hood and took a deep long breath of the warm air, smelling the plethora of scents that connected to form the unique smell of Paris in the summer. Without hesitation, he leapt off of his perch and flew towards the ground with precise calculation. Maneuvering his body into an arrow form, he spread out his arms and kept his legs locked together. Ending with a front flip, he landed safely in a conveniently-placed haystack, drawing no suspicion.
Two white dots shone out of the hay, darting back and forth. Patience was key. That was the first thing they had taught him. As the crowd started to thin out, he darted out of the safety of his cover and started walking to the building across the street.
He took this time to survey this building, checking for something he may have left out as he had planned his attack this morning. The building was a small tenement, three stories high with windows on both sides and a balcony overlooking the street below. He had thought about using these as an entrance, but eventually settled with a less direct approach. This should be quick and easy.
He knew the man was going to be on the third floor. His target was an arms dealer illegally supplying munitions to revolutionaries around Paris. This man posed a threat to citizens, providing would-be attackers with the firepower that they needed. However, as it often was with the Creed, it was not that simple. This man was also a high-ranking official in the Templar Order, posing a potential threat to the Assassins.
Focusing his attention back on the building he went over the numbers once again in his head. One man stationed outside of the doorway, two inside with the target, and a sniper, which he could only assume was currently on the opposite side of the building, stationed on the balcony. He remembered the target's face, a man in his fifties with a bored expression, looking permanently displeased with something. He shouldn't be hard to spot, as he would most likely wearing bright colors that signified those in the bourgeois society.
He walked into the building displaying the air of confidence that accompanied him wherever he went. He took a quick look around the lobby. The main source of light came through the windows in slanted fragments, giving the place an unwelcoming feel that he did not like.
A woman sat behind the counter and took a second out of reading the paper to glance up at him. Looking him up and down, she raised a contemptuous eyebrow and then continued to read. Good, he thought. It was always better when no questions are asked. Civilians had a tendency to muddle up these types of things. A quiet man was always better than a curious one.
Starting up the stairs leading up to the third floor, he checked to make sure he had everything he needed. Pushing away his long coat, he counted and re-counted all of the items he would need to complete his mission. Yes, yes all good. And last but not least…He flicked his pinky finger, sending out a flash of steel that seemed to materialize from his sleeve. This was the most important gadget of all. Feeling the weight of the steel on his wrist gave him the reassurance that nothing else could.
The time had come that required his full attention. He stopped around the corner where he knew a man would be waiting outside of the door and took a second to compose his thoughts. Once he was out there he would have to think on his feet with no time for precise calculation.
Finally he proceeded. From around the corner, he let a high whistle come from his lips, two sharp notes of no specific nature. "What the bloody hell…" he heard the man say, his voice pointed in his direction. Footsteps started towards him, the sound getting closer and closer. "If someone's playin' with me I'll kick yer bloody teeth in, I wiGUUGRRHGH" The blade slid in and out of the man's neck easier than a needle in a patient's arm. He placed the body next to the top of the stairwell, making sure to not get blood on his coat.
Now came the tricky part. Thankfully, the man he had just stabbed was kind enough to not make an ordeal out of his death, leaving the Assassin with ample time to prepare for his next move. Looking through the keyhole, he had a generous amount of info.
The room was small but not horribly compact, with just enough space to perform a swift execution and make an easy escape through an open window. He spotted his target immediately, filling out papers to the left of the room, facing the windows on the opposite side. He had the same gloomy expression and wore bright yellow and red attire. The Assassin could make out one guard just in front of the door standing to the left and the other on the other side of the room, standing in front of the target's desk.
He did not see the sniper on the balcony on the target's side of the room, meaning he must be on the balcony that was cut off from his view. That was fine, as long as he was taken care of quickly. This would have to be done swiftly, as there was no way stealth would work in such a miniscule room such as this one. He would have to quickly take out the guard near the door, lunge forward to the other guard, taking him out as well, and then perhaps dispose of the sniper with a swift kick to send him flying. Then he could do what he came here to do.
Lost in thought of his course of action, he did not hear the footsteps coming up the stairs until it was too late. The woman who sat at the front desk rounded the corner and shrieked, gazing upon the corpse of the guard who had been on watch.
OH GOD NO. The assassin had run out of time. Slamming open the door to the room, he sliced at the first guard,only nicking his neck. Wasting no time, he stumbled forward and knocked into the other guard, sending him flying backwards into the wall. Luckily, this sent the hidden blade flying into his chest, taking him out.
Quickly turning around, he saw the first guard lumbering towards him, clutching at the wound on his neck, blood seeping through his fingers. In the other hand he held a dirk, poised to be brought down on the Assassin.
Using his quick thinking and training, he parried the blow with his hidden blade and countered with a kick in the shin. The guard let out a shriek of pain and knelt down, letting the Assassin bring his own blade down to the back of the man's head.
Not forgetting the contents of the room, he looked to the balcony and found himself looking down the barrel of a rifle. He immediately dropped to the ground, simultaneously hearing a loud BANG! accompanied by a wet splattering noise. Quickly, he lunged from off of the ground and delivered a swift kick to the sniper, sending him flying off of the building. Well at least something went right…
The Assassin looked to where his target sat and was met with a bloody figure, the contents of his head splattered against the window behind him. Letting out a long sigh he took a second to look around the room. The police will have a fun time figuring this one out, he thought, looking at the mess of blood and bodies. Just then the woman from the front desk walked in. She stared at the scene with her eyes wide and mouth gaping open. She looked at the Assassin as if for an explanation. He shrugged. The woman fainted. The Assassin took that as his cue to leave.