Chapter Three:

In Distress, but Not the Damsel

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"I'd love to see you try that again, kid!" the guard laughed, and then kicked my stomach. I glared at him, but he did it again. "You can't do a thing once you've been caught!"

I gritted my teeth as another kick found my gut. I grabbed his boot at the right moment and stood. Small as I was, I could fight.

The guard was unbalanced for a moment before I pushed him into a stall, not hard enough for it to break, but just enough. I ran for it, my small legs pumping as I found a ladder.

But the guard was right behind me. "Get back here! Thief!" he called, hoping one of his friends would come to help.

And they did. An arrow whizzed by me, clipping my shoulder. I held it but kept running, the warm blood soaking the only clothes I had. I followed the rooftops, but stopped short when they ended. The only escape was down, or across to a rooftop I wasn't sure I could reach.

Three guards came from behind me and drew their blades. "You cannot escape!"

I clenched my fist, the one that wasn't holding my arm. "We'll just see about that!"

With that, I ran as hard as I could in that short amount of space, and leapt. I just managed to grab hold of the building, but I could feel the wound on my shoulder widen as I climbed. When I got to the roof, the archer was taking aim. I ran as the guards leapt after me, easily closing the gap. I looked back and saw how close they were, and accidentally lost my footing. I fell to the ground, landing on my wounded shoulder. I cried out in pain, but forced myself to my feet. I saw a thug and swiped one of his knives. He noticed, but ran when he saw the guards. I held the knife defensively, and waited for them.

As soon as they saw me, they laughed at me. "Look! She thinks she can take us!" one exclaimed, and almost doubled-over.

"Okay, put the knife down, and we'll be merciful," the second one said, even though his sword was drawn.

The archer started to bring his own blade out. "Very merciful," he added.

I shook my head. "I will not!"

The first guard held out his hand. "Give back the coin purse, child."

My grip tightened on the knife. "I. Will. Not."

"Then you seal your fate!" the archer said, and lunged at me.

My body moved on its own. I deflected the sword and kicked the hand that held the blade, and then stabbed the knife into the guard's chest.

"Die!" the other two roared as their comrade fell.

I backed up against the wall, well-aware of how many people were watching. "I did not steal this!" I cried. "This is mine! I earned it!"

They didn't care anymore; I'd hurt their comrade, and now I'd pay for it. I blocked as best I could, but they cut me so many times that all I could see was red. Regardless, I held up the knife. There would be no surrender, and I would not fail.

Just as the finishing blow came towards me, a flash of light appeared in front of me. It was a gleaming silver sword, with the sun's reflection in my eyes. I looked to find the owner of the blade defending me, but the mere sight of him made me squint, as he was clad in white robes, with a hood covering his face that reminded me of the beak of an eagle.

"Infidel! Die!" the guards cried, and focused on the hooded man.

He easily bested them, waiting for them to attack him before he struck them down. As they lay dead or dying by my feet, I suddenly felt the urge to vomit come, but I didn't give into it. As I was falling forward from exhaustion and blood loss, the man in white caught me, even though it stained his pure white robes with my blood.

"You did well today," he whispered. "Rest. Do not be afraid."

As much as I tried to keep my eyes open, they closed against my will. "Thank… you…" I managed to get out before I saw nothing.

2012

My eyes opened groggily as a screen slides to my left. My eyes follow it, but it hides inside the machine I was lying on.

"Is she okay?"

I held my head and looked up. A man in a white bunnyhug with short black hair and tanned skin was staring at me uncertainly.

"She'll be fine," replied a blonde woman in a sleeveless shirt, with pale skin. "Now c'mon! Those guards'll come around soon! And I dunno about you, but I wanna leave now."

"Who—?" I tried to get the words out, but my head was hurting. What was that thing? What did I just see? Who were these people?

The man came over and helped me to my feet. "Can you walk?" he asked.

I nodded as he let go of me. "Y-Yeah."

"Now, Desmond!" the woman snapped.

Desmond nodded and led me out of the tiny cubicle-thing that the machine was in. We held a steady pace (due to my horrendous balance) and when we got to a door, Desmond opened it. The woman seemed surprised, but I was too preoccupied to care how he'd done it. We got into the elevator and went down to a garage where several guards were waiting for us. An image flashed in my head, one of men in armour, holding their swords against us. As one struck, I grabbed his wrist and twisted, breaking it and taking his weapon for myself. The image faded quickly, but as a man attacked us I knew exactly what I had to do. My mind cleared instantly as I grabbed hold of his wrist and twisted, imitating what I'd seen. Crazy as it might have been, it was useful as I held his weapon in my hand.

"The hell…?" I heard Desmond mutter.

The guards came at us. Desmond fought them pretty well, but it was the woman who impressed me. She was using one of their weapons, like I was, and it seemed that she was familiar with it. I knocked-out every guard that came my way, and then as the last of them fell the woman led us to a silver car.

She opened the trunk and motioned with her head. "Get in."

"You serious?" Desmond asked.

She gave him a "look", and he crawled in. She looked at me. "You too."

I went in without a fuss. Desmond and I, surprisingly, didn't take up all of the room in the trunk, but the darkness kind of creeped me out.

"Name's Desmond," he said after a time. "Desmond Miles."

"Samantha Warner," I replied quietly. "Call me Sam."

He nodded. "The driver of this incredibly bouncy vehicle's Lucy Stillman," he said.

I smiled. "It is pretty bouncy, isn't it?"

"What were you doing in an Animus?" he asked suddenly.

One of my eyebrows rose. "Is that what that thing was called?"

He nodded again. "It helps you replay the memories of your ancestors."

"What?" I gasped. "Replay memories?" I narrowed my eyes at him. "Who are you people?"

"Assassins," Desmond replied. "Lucy and I are Assassins. We just got out of a pretty cramped Templar base."

"Templars? But aren't they an old order? Like, middle-ages or something?"

He nodded. "Same with the Assassins. But they're all still around, fighting, as usual."

I paused, trying to piece the memories in my head together. "The man in the black suit… He called me an Assassin before they knocked me out…" I gasped and sat up, slamming my head against the trunk door. I grunted in pain, but I didn't forget. "Ryan! Oh God, they're gonna kill him! I have to get back there!" I grabbed Desmond's bunnyhug collar. "Where am I? I need to get back to my brother!"

Desmond brushed my hands off of him. "I think Lucy mentioned Italy once."

"Italy? You've gotta be friggin' kidding me!" I held my head. "I live in America! What the hell am I doing here? Why am I in a trunk with an Assassin?" I groaned. "I must have a deathwish…"

I heard Desmond chuckle. "From what I saw in the garage, you can handle yourself. And besides; I haven't been an Assassin in years."

"But… Don't you kill people?"

"Assassins kill people, but it's for the greater good."

My head was throbbing again, so I placed a hand on my head and looked at Desmond strangely. "What… What do you mean?"

I was sure Desmond was about to explain when the trunk popped open. "We're here," Lucy said.

"Where's 'here'?" Desmond asked, taking the words right out of my mouth.

Lucy let us get out of the trunk before she answered. "Our temporary base-of-operations. We have a few around here, but they've been raided by the Templars." She led us up a ramp, and I admired the gigantic warehouse. She noticed, and smiled a tiny bit. "You'll meet a few more Assassins here."

"Great," Desmond said less-than-enthusiastically.

I rubbed my wrists absently, and both Lucy and Desmond saw me doing it. I dunno, it just felt like something should have been there. I always rubbed that spot, so it was natural to me.

"You have tattoos?" Desmond asked.

I looked at my wrists and nodded. "I've had them ever since I can remember."

Desmond smiled and rolled up his bunnyhug. His tattoo almost looked tribal, and both Lucy and I were fascinated by it.

"I showed you mine, now you show me yours," Desmond said, smiling because he knew how it sounded.

I frowned and rolled up my shirt. The tattoos on both my arms matched each other. There was an intricate "A" at the centre, with vine-like things surrounding it.

Desmond looked from me to the tattoos. "Okay, you can't tell me you're not an Assassin after showing me this."

"I'm not!" I snapped.

"It's the Assassin's symbol," Lucy said, explaining it for me. "This is how Assassins are known, besides their white hoods and hidden blades, of course."

I frowned. "I'm not an Assassin!" I think I was being kinda moody, because I stormed up the ramp, too annoyed to look back at the two.

I followed my instincts when I got to the top and entered a room littered with papers and electronics. There was a weird chair in the middle, too.

"Yo, Lucy? You back?" I heard a woman's voice ask. I saw someone sitting at the computer beside the crazy chair, and when she looked back at me, she said, "Um… Shaun? We have a… visitor."

I saw someone move by a computer and a table with tons of information. It was a guy, with short red hair, glasses, and a kind of vest. The woman had black hair, headphones, and a black jacket on.

The guy, Shaun, studied me for a moment before he looked back at the woman and said, "I don't really know her… Rebecca, is she a cousin of yours?" he asked in a British accent.

"Yeah, dumbass. Because my cousins would drop in while I'm working at a secret location." She stood up and gestured at me. "We don't even look alike!"

Shaun couldn't hide a smile. "Yes, she's definitely more attractive than you."

Rebecca glared at him. "Asshole." She approached me, and just as she was about to say something to me, Lucy brushed past me and met Rebecca, hugging her. "Lucy! You're back!"

"Ah, so this is the famous Subject 17," Shaun said in a bored tone to Desmond.

I sunk into the background, ignoring everything they said as my mind wandered to Ryan. I wondered if he was all right, if he managed to get away. But what if he didn't?

"Everyone, this is Sam," Lucy said, gesturing to me and snapping me out of my daze. "Sam was at Abstergo when we were escaping."

"You mean she's a Templar?" Shaun asked, his gaze flickering to me for an instant.

"No!" Desmond said quickly. "Sam was in an Animus, and from her fighting style and tattoos, we're pretty sure she's an Assassin."

"Pretty sure? Wouldn't she tell you?" Shaun prodded.

"Lay off, Shaun!" Rebecca chastised, and then quickly typed something into her computer. "One sec…"

Lucy smiled and took the weapon out of my hand, which I just realized I was still holding. "I don't think you'll be needing that anymore."

I smiled weakly back. "Thanks… You know, for rescuing me from that machine…"

"Don't worry about it." Lucy held out a hand, and I shook it firmly. "You're an Assassin—that I'm sure of. We look out for each other because we're all family."

"Speaking of family…" Rebecca turned her computer screen towards us, smiling. "Look who I found!"

On the monitor was a picture of me, but some of the information was missing—even my name!

"It's not showing your date-of-birth, birthplace, name or age," Shaun said. "But what it is showing…"

I couldn't even believe it myself. "What does the four stand for?"

"That means that you're the fourth strongest Assassin in the entire Order," Rebecca explained. "You were the previous number four, and were replaced because you went M.I.A."

"What?" I took a step back. "No, they've got it wrong! I'm not an Assassin! I run at school! I'm trying to be a straight-A student and stay outta fights!"

Desmond paused and then looked at me curiously. "About your tattoos… You said, 'as long as you could remember'?"

I nodded. "Ryan… My brother… Well, adoptive brother, he told me he saved me from a burning building, and then he let me stay with him… I don't remember lots of things. Sometimes I get flashes, but it's all medieval—which makes me think I'm crazy—and then nothing!"

"Medieval?" Lucy repeated. "That means… If you've lost your memory, the repressed memories of your ancestors are coming out much more openly." She looked at Rebecca, and then to Desmond. "Desmond, get into the Animus. Start your session without me; I'm taking Sam to the spare."

Desmond nodded and went into the creepy chair. I looked at Lucy in horror.

"You want me to get into another one of those things?"

"It's just in the other room. You might have some valuable information on what we're looking for."

I gritted my teeth. "Are… Are we really in Italy?"

"Last I checked," Shaun piped in.

"I need to get back to America—to help my brother!" I said. "They've probably gone after Tyler too! I need to help them!"

Lucy put a hand on my shoulder. "I can get a team dispatched to investigate for you, if you'd like."

"You can do that?"

Lucy nodded. "I'll get Shaun to do it now. Could you please just do me this favour and get in the other Animus?"

I clenched my fists and looked at Shaun and Rebecca, who were staring at me intently, and then nodded.

"I'll do it."