Chapter Four: Wounded

"If Astrid finds out, she's going to kill you – literally," Quincy warned, her voice soft enough to be a breath and watched as Altair jolted nearly a foot in the air and he whirled, his mouth slightly open. His heart was thundering in his chest – both at Quincy's ghost-like appearance and his actions towards Astrid. Altair was constantly surprised by Quincy – his cultural bias about women being the source – and her ability to be as silent as a drifting feather in those ridiculous shoes she wore – "platform heels," Astrid had informed him when he had inquired into the strange, torture-like shoes - constantly. She now sat on her haunches, less that two feet from Altair, the skinny black plants and skin-tight turtleneck blending her into the shadows and both watched as Astrid loaded two jet-black weapons and tucked them into the back of her pants and began to walk.

"Would she really?" Altair murmured as they edged, parallel to Astrid's movements, along the roof, keeping Astrid's figure in sight.

Quincy shrugged when they paused to leap lightly across a roof – an alleyway – and onto the tops of a small strip mall. Her concern wasn't what Astrid would do to them if she found out they were following her in the dead of night after she'd disappeared at midnight Both assassins had laid awake listening to Astrid's soft breathing. Altair had left after his instinct told him she was gone and Quincy had followed, well aware of Astrid and Altair. Her eyes, however, were trained on Altair as she spoke softly again, "What are you doing?"

It wasn't a literal question – Altair had been in this long enough that when this question was asked, he needed to explain his reasons. He could be honest with Astrid's sister and he also knew that she was as observant as Malik on a particularly clear day and could see right through whatever lie he might throw at her.

"She knows something… something she hadn't though of before and she's not telling us," Altair said, his voice low, and Quincy nodded, also having come to the same conclusion. Both had realized that Astrid's thoughts were heading in an entirely different direction when Johansson had given their coordinates – encrypted in a rather difficult code that Quincy was still working on cracking – and Astrid's face had shut down, completely closed off from them, and had receded into a silence that tipped Quincy before Altair into Astrid's various conclusions about Keith and Altair before Altair – who had intuitively realized that something was wrong with Astrid, nothing more and nothing less.

Following Altair through instinct, her mind began to wander towards her sister's behavior and to what Altair had just said and murmured, "Yes, she knows. I'm surprised she…" Quincy trailed off with a quick glance at Altair. Unknown to Astrid, Quincy was also unnerved at the placement of Altair in Keith's body and she was well aware of all Astrid was suppressing… but, Quincy wondered, was Astrid really suppressing or was she simply… transferring all that to Altair? Altair's attention shifted from Astrid's stealthy movements to Quincy when she'd trailed off – the speculative tone in her voice tipped Altair off.

"Surprised she what?" Altair questioned, his mind briefly flashing towards Adha, long dead, seconds before he recalled Astrid's bruised face with her crooked smile looking at him from colorless eyes.

"We never knew what Astrid was planning or thinking unless she told us or she acted on it… it's the way she is. Was. Secretive, you know? Except around Keith before… and now she's an open book around you." Quincy shrugged again and knew it wasn't her place to tell him about Astrid's conflict.

Altair looked back at Astrid and felt the inkling of truth in Quincy's words. The woman who'd rescued him had been very different from the one who stalked the streets – she had been colder and this Astrid talked to him as if she knew him from long ago, even during his weapons crash course. It pained him slightly whenever she would wince, as if she forgot he was Altair, when she saw his face.

"Is it because I'm in his body?" Altair asked, his gaze drifting around Astrid who had paused near a green dumpster.

"Probably," Quincy said tonelessly, after scrambling behind Altair, who effortlessly leapt across the wide space, thirty feet up, and narrowed her eyes on her sister. They watched from the ledge as Astrid checked her GPS and looked further down the street. Their eyes strained as they tried to not to loose her to the shadows, she was clad in all black, and the gleam on the yellow streetlight on her pitch black hair was the only tell-tale sign of her location. Astrid straightened; tucking the guns back in her pants she resumed her tracks.

"She's going back," Quincy breathed and she glanced at Altair who nodded. He'd had his suspicions about Astrid's destination and was aware that she'd try to go back to the destroyed Bureau. They hurried along the roof, making another flying leap and Altair rolled forward from the force of his jump with Quincy never missing a step. They were nearly a block away from the Bureau when Astrid stopped and Altair echoed the gesture. His eyes sought the multiple figures, betrayed by their movement, placed around the building – all Templars, guards armed with the glint of metal and once again, Altair's hand closed around the hilt of his sword he'd taken from the armory during one of Astrid's lessons.

Quincy narrowed her eyes at her sister who with a glide-like movement vanished before their eyes into the darkness around her. Altair blinked, his eyes on the spot he'd seen her last and heard Quincy's grim chuckle.

"Like a blade in the crowd," Quincy said coldly, cocking the black weapon she'd lifted from her holster and twisting a silencer into the barrel.

Altair nodded and began to follow Quincy's silent form along a ledge that hid them from view – his hidden blade like a necessary limb, ready, impossibly lethal, his sleek throwing knives nested against his abdomen and they waited for the tell-tale sound that Astrid had infiltrated the building. Quincy met Altair's somber eyes and nodded. He had to find her.

****

Alone, Astrid stepped around the body of the fallen Templar. She took in her surroundings – the scattered rubble and dust before looking down at the body. Her lips pursed – not even a Templar, but a flunkie. Hired muscle of Abstergo. She flexed her pinky finger and the hidden blade retracted into its sheath with a feral hiss of metal sliding against metal - dripping blood onto the floor by her feet. She'd spotted the agents nearly a block away from the Bureau – twenty of them, strategically placed around the building. She'd had to crawl to get into the building but she'd take care of them once she'd retrieved what she was here for – she'd use the simple, silenced weapon to drop them one by one at her feet. Once again, doubt gnawed at her stomach as she thought of Quincy and Altair – hopefully resting before moving again tomorrow. She shifted her shoulders uncomfortably. The stairs were not an option, Astrid realized when she finally located the back of the building where the stairs were and saw cement pouring out of the metal door.

So, she'd climb, Astrid decided and stepped nimbly around the rubble, keeping to the wall as she leapt and pulled herself up effortlessly and silently, freezing when she came to face the back of a pair of size fourteen boots less than two feet away. Her jaw clenched but the only noise she made was of the breath she expelled when she leapt, somersaulting onto the stranger's shoulders, her knees squeezing his neck simultaneously, choking his guttural cry, twisting her body and she felt, rather than heard, his neck shattering.* She pushed off his body, rolling and moving away from the limp body – head turned completely around – but she was already leaping, the hook shot already punching into cement that brought her one floor below her target.

Her aim was her former room and then Altair's – formerly Keith's – room for what she wanted. She spotted one more guard and lightly danced over the rubble until she was pressed against his back. He felt absolutely nothing but the warmth of his blood creeping from around the hidden blade that had plunged into his spine and the small hand that clamped around his mouth before his vision blurred and he dropped, to the ground, dead. She crawled now, a throwing knife flitting from her fingers and into an unsuspecting throat and she scuttled along the familiar ramp that led up to the main floor. Her eyes danced across the darkness, instantly wary as the hairs on the back of her neck stood up – alerting her to the presence of an enemy.

Astrid now straightened, stepping sideways, straining her eyes as she tried to seek out the enemy. She cursed, for the first time, the time she'd chosen to infiltrate the Bureau. She, as well as all the guard she'd killed, were at a complete disadvantage in the darkness It would come down to speed and reaction time if it came to a hand to hand fight. Fists clenched, she stepped into the hallway and froze in her tracks. A light bulb had been hung from a broken door and Astrid had enough time to see the silhouette of four figures with some rather large guns aimed before instinct had her diving backwards, gun already firing as she hit the ground, on her back with the four bodies ahead of her.

She reloaded the swiftly and looked around as the gunshots echoed back at her. She was still on high alert but she knew that the silencer was now obsolete. Every guard had to be alerted of her infiltration so she ran to the end of the hall, aiming her fist at the lonely light bulb, shattering it, and kicked the door to her room open, eyes already darting around the room for anyone that might be hidden. She had enough time to slip the bag from her ankle and jamming her laptop inside and backing out of the room and darting into Altair's. She wasn't sure, before, why she'd left the sleek laptop on the desk but now, when she saw the it was unscathed, she grinned slightly before remembered the purpose of this.

She'd never had a reason, until now, to hack into Keith's computer – as it was open but she knew now that Keith was still a player in this situation – dear or not – he had something to do with Altair and Desmond and the trace on his car spoke volumes. She stepped out of the room, habitually closing the door and she saw the flash of steel out of the corner of her eye – arcing perfectly towards her body.

Astrid fell to her knees, pain spearing through her side as steel kissed her flesh. She instinctively rolled away from the pain and hit the wall with her shoulder. She heard rather that saw the sword and rolled sideways again and gasped when the blade stabbed into the wooden floor, exactly where her head had been. She cried out again when a steel-tipped boot connected with her ribs and she rolled forward, her hand instinctively sliding the short blade from the sheath on her back.

Her face paled when, in the pure darkness, she saw glints of steel twirling. Her short blade clenched in one hand and the deep cut on her side bleeding freely and pulsing white-hot knives of pain into nearly every part of her body. She gritted her teeth and lifted her short blade, hissing out a breath as the cut blazed under her skin, and she set her feet apart in a defensive stance. In the hallway, she was at an advantage, since he could only come at her from the front… but she was wounded. Her gaze narrowed on the steel glinting and watched as it moved closer and closer, finally lashing out and Astrid blocked it, tossing her weight into it, a pain-filled whimper escaping her lips as her movements allowed a new torrent of blood to flow and for numbing pain to spread down her arm all over her side.

Cold sweat broke out along her skin and Astrid let out a shaky breath. She could hear precise, deadly footsteps and her other hand held the strap of the bag. If she could…

Astrid screamed when the steel flashed again and she blocked the violent blow with her own force, making her side explode with fire and she stumbled back, her other had cupping her side and she felt the long, deep gash that had opened as her movements had encouraged. She knew the severity of a wound like this. She needed to leave.

The steel flashed again and Astrid barely dodged it, a sob ripping from her throat, as she rolled backwards, eyes watering with the pain – but she rose, short blade up, legs steady and she gasped out breaths, eyes darting form the flashes of steel to the door behind him. If she could somehow get to the door, she could run but the thought vanished when she parried another strike, this time lashing out with her left leg at the same, grunting when her boot connected with flesh – it felt like his head – and Astrid shoved at her attacker with her shoulder, stumbling past but throwing herself to the side when the air whistled at the blade sliced through.

"Astrid!" The voice was loud and close and Astrid nearly fainted with relief when she recognized Quincy's call. Her blade clashed and she couldn't see. She didn't move when Altair dropped in front of her, leaping form a pile of rubble and blocking her view of her attacker. Astrid fell to her knees as watched as Altair wielded the sword with the ease of her wielding a gun. He counter-attacked brutally, stabbing his blade into the invisible body as hard as he could before sheathing his sword and looking at Astrid.

She was pale, much too pale under her tan complexion, and he smelled blood before he saw her completely. She was hunched, fingers curled around the short blade and the other clamped around her side that gleamed with blood. His heart, already slamming into his ribs from his manic run to Astrid from the first floor, stuttered when she wavered and her eyelids flickered weakly and his breath hitched in his throat. He was ready to grab her when Quincy's pale face, eyes wide with suppressed terror and fronting determination, was suddenly in front of him.

"Take her!" Quincy snapped and nearly threw Astrid into Altair's arms. He nearly staggered but caught her as she began to slide to the floor. He lifted her with ease and followed Quincy's retreating back.

"The bag," Astrid breathed and Altair grabbed the strap and swung it over his shoulder without thinking. They wasted no time in running over the rubble, Quincy's gun flashing as she killed another target, Astrid's shallow breath gasping from the jolting of Altair's running. Quincy was ahead and had already broken into a black SUV – she ripped the door open seconds before Altair wordlessly dived in and didn't flinch when the door slammed shut with enough force to shake the vehicle.

"What's wrong with her?" Altair demanded when he saw Astrid's drenched clothes. She was much too pale and Altair's heart began to beat harder – which had nothing to do with Quincy's manic driving.

"Blood loss. We have a few minutes. Put pressure on the wound," Quincy snapped through clenched teeth, her knuckles going white as she squeezed the steering wheel. She stilled her shaking hands and resisted a glance at the rearview mirror ad tried to be deaf to Astrid's whimpers.

Astrid gripped Altair's clothes – the black she searched for the place she'd spotted on their way here. It was a women's clinic they'd passed as they trailed Astrid. The clinic must have all that's needed to help Astrid whose breathing was getting shallower and shallower as Quincy turned violently into the parking not stopping until they were on the sidewalk and the front of the SUV was crumpled against the front of the clinic. Altair shoved the door open, Astrid cradled in his arms, and he followed Quincy who had already picked the lock to the clinic and was disabling the alarm.

"Get her on a table," Quincy ordered once he was inside and he set her down, reaching instinctively for a candle and blinking when overhead lights blinked on and Quincy strode into the room, to the many class cabinets that lined the walls. "Take off her sweater, quickly, she's lost too much blood."

Altair swallowed when he lifted the bloody clothing off Astrid's body, leaving a red pattern on her skin and he gritted his teeth when she cried out softly – her eyes still miraculously open and aware. The gash was long – as long as Altair's forearm – and it curled around her side into her waist and over her right hip. She was shaking and Altair ripped the cloth, forcing it open as Quincy approached with bandages, a bottle of clear liquid, needle and thread, her jaw was set and eyes distant and business-like but her trembling hands gave away the turmoil inside her. She nearly faltered when she saw Astrid's side and felt a small inkling of admiration for her sister who had remained awake and was now staring at Altair's face as if it was the last thing in the universe.

"Astrid, this is going to hurt like hell," Quincy said before pouring a clear liquid onto the gash. Astrid flinched but the scream that erupted from her throat ripped both into Quincy and Altair and they both stuttered in their movements – Altair holding her shoulders down as she convulsed on the metal table and Quincy already on the second stitch. The process took Quincy half an hour – a better hour than before now that both were sure Astrid was not going to die. Altair supported Astrid's limp body as Quincy wrapped the creamy gauze around Astrid's middle, making sure not to touch the wound.

They did not speak once Astrid was bandaged and Quincy was taking deep breaths from her mouth, calming herself as Altair did. Quincy sighed and searched the cabinets once more for painkillers, knowing that once Astrid woke up, she'd be in awful pain. She was calm enough now to notice the bag dangling from Altair's hand. "This is what she went back for?" Quincy asked and Altair nodded, suddenly aware of what he carried.

In complete silence, Quincy checked Astrid's vitals. She noted that her pulse was weak and she was still extremely pale – which meant they needed to give Astrid blood as she'd lost so much… Quincy's eyes briefly landed on the soaked sweater, the black glistening with Astrid's blood, and suppressed a shudder. She shined a light in Astrid's grey eyes and was satisfied when the pupils shrank in size – a sure reaction that made Quincy sigh in relief, a tension she was not aware of leaving her shoulders like a cascade of rocks. "Let's go," she murmured.

*****

Astrid woke to a horrible stinging and aching in her side. She tried to sit up but fell back after a squeak slipped from between her lips as the pain stabbed angrily at her. She reeled from how battered she felt, how her entire body ached and throbbed with bruises. Groaning, she threw an arm over her eyes to shield the incoming sunlight. While she recovered from the sedatives Quincy had injected her with after arriving at the safe house she began to recall…

The laptops. The Bureau… the flashing steel. Altair flawlessly killing her attacker and she looked down the length of her body, at the bandages that were spotted with blood. The stitches itched already and Astrid gently felt at the tender spot. This was the worst wound she'd received. Again, her mind flashed to the pure power in Altair's brief fight with the faceless man. He'd moved effortlessly... killing him within three minutes of landing in front of her. He'd saved her, pretty much.

"You slept for two days," Altair said softly and watched as the flinch that followed her startled jolt.

"Two days?" Astrid asked quietly, after she met his eyes. They were soft but she still could not read them.

"Yes. Quincy had the…" what did Quincy call them? "laptops checked for damage… they're fine," Altair informer her, wondering why the hell he was talking about computing devices when he didn't even remotely care about them. Astrid said nothing but her gaze did not leave his eyes.

"I would have died if you hadn't come for me, Altair."

Altair closed his eyes. "I know."

"Thank you," she breathed.

* If you want to know what Astrid's move actually looks like go here: http:// i42. tinypic .com/ dyllxy. gif

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