Author's Note: Hello! I know it's been a while, I apologise, but please enjoy Chapter 6. Chapter 7 is underway, as well as brainstorming for another fic or two, so I will post it when I can. Hope you enjoy!
August 30th, 1877. London, England.
Edmund sat in silence on the rooftop of an old tea warehouse as he reviewed what he wrote in the notebook his Mentor had given him, pondering the behaviour he had seen from his trainee, Thomas Mont, earlier that day. He is too rash, the young Assassin thought to himself. He refuses to listen to instructions. However, I will continue to monitor Thomas this evening, and, should all go according to plan, I will continue to monitor him on future endeavours.
"Lovely weather for an evening on the Thames, wouldn't you agree, Mister Jameson?" A familiar voice behind him asked playfully.
Edmund tucked the ink well and pen inside his robes and closed his notebook. He stood and turned to see Jesse Warlow standing in a curtsy, a smile playing across her face. "Why, yes, milady, I do believe it is," he responded with a mocking bow. He stood straight and the two Assassins burst out in laughter.
Thomas stood by her side, a large bag slung across his torso, grinning slightly at his trainers.
Jesse nodded toward the river. "So, Edmund, what exactly is our mission? I came as soon as Thomas arrived with the address," she inquired.
"This is the pier where the Templar Charles Vance docks his ship in between smuggling runs," Edmund informed his friend. "According to some shipment records in his warehouse office that were dated today, there were multiple barrels of gunpowder on board. They were not in the warehouse, nor have they been moved farther than these docks." Edmund turned to Thomas. "Did you bring the items I requested?"
"Yes, Mister Jameson, I did," Thomas replied as he handed the bag to the Assassin. "Firecrackers, some tripwire sleep bombs, some smoke decoy bombs that use Petra salt, a few lethal bombs, spare bullets and blades, and a grappling hook."
"Excellent," Edmund said as he rummaged through the bag. He took a few extra blades and bullets and placed them in their proper pouches on his waist before taking some of the Petra bombs. Then, he looped the grappling hook onto a spare clip on his belt. He looked at Thomas and gave him a slight grin. "And you needn't call me Mister Jameson; Edmund is perfectly fine."
The trainee smiled shyly back, and Jesse gave a slight giggle.
"As for the two of you," Edmund said, handing the bag of equipment to Jesse, "I will need a few distractions. Thomas, place some the tripwire sleep bombs around the docks and use the decoy bombs to lure some of the guards away. The sleeping gas should keep them knocked for approximately thirty minutes. Jesse, you will be tasked with placing the lethal bombs by the powder reserves. Follow Thomas, and once the guards are affected by the gas, plant the bombs and light the fuse. A few explosions should be enough to catch them by surprise."
Jesse nodded as she slung the bag over her shoulder. "And what will your task be, Edmund?" she asked.
"I am going to make my way to the ship. Once the bombs start to explode, that is when I will kill Charles Vance." Edmund replied. He pulled out his pocket watch; the one his father had given him while he died. Edmund opened it, checking the time. "We have ten minutes until midnight," he stated. "Time to get into position. I will meet the two of you here once Vance is dead."
Edmund pulled up the hood of his robes as he crouched in cover behind a small bunch of crates. He looked around the corner of the crate, spotting two of Vance's men who were standing guard near his position. Suddenly, one of them turned quickly to his side, pointing and turning the other guard around. Edmund could hear him say something about a fire as they ran toward it. It seems as though Thomas' Petra bombs are effective, Edmund thought to himself. A moment later, the Assassin heard the faint thud of the unconscious two hitting the ground. Edmund moved forward toward the Templar's ship as more of the smugglers moved to investigate smoke.
He stopped short behind a stack of crates on the main dock. He looked around the crates and noticed the amount of smugglers still on board Charles Vance's ship. "It looks as though I will have to go around them," Edmund said to himself. "I can swim around and climb up the roping on the side to the top of the mast. I would be able to get a better view from up there."
Edmund dove into the River Thames and swam around to the other side of the ship. He climbed up and peered over the side. All of Vance's smugglers were facing toward the other side, giving Edmund the perfect opportunity to climb up the roping. He made his way to the top, careful not to alert the people on board the ship of his presence. Once he was near the top of the mast, he stood on the platform and looked out over the deck of the ship, focusing his senses in order to engage his Eagle Sense. He couldn't see the Templar on the deck of the ship. He must be in the captain's cabin, the Assassin thought to himself. I won't be able to get close enough without alerting the other smugglers. I will have to wait for the explo-
Edmund's thoughts were cut short as an explosion rang through the air. He looked up to see smoke rising from a small fire near the old warehouse. Seconds later, another explosion sounded, moving closer towards the pier. Edmund looked down at the captain's cabin as more explosions sounded. Just as Edmund was about to predict, Charles Vance had come out to investigate the commotion that was going on around the dock. As soon as the Assassin's target was on deck, he removed the grappling hook from his belt and began to twirl it around in the air. He let it fly through the sky and it caught on to the beam on the other mast. Edmund jumped from the platform and fell momentarily until the hook did its job, causing Edmund to swing forward.
Once the Assassin was close enough to his target, he let go of the rope, extending his Hidden Blade as he descended. Charles Vance looked up just in time to see his killer reach him, and in seconds, he was on the ground, blade in his neck.
"It would seem as though your time is up, Mister Vance," Edmund remarked as he knelt next to the dying Templar. "Your days of smuggling for the Templars are over. And, now, there will be less drugs and fewer weapons on the streets of London."
"Ha. If you think I'm the only smuggler in all o' London, boy, you're mistaken," Vance coughed. "Now hurry it up and kill me."
"Not just yet," Edmund said coldly. "I know you know things, and you're going to tell me exactly what I want to know. The man the Templars sent to kill Elliot and Theresa Jameson. Who is he?"
Charles Vance laughed, blood dripping from his lips. "Elliot Jameson. I remember him. Traitorous bastard. I should have known he was an Assassin from the moment I laid eyes on him."
Edmund grabbed the Templar by the front of his shirt. "The man, Vance. Tell me who he is, and where I can find him."
"You are wrong if you think I know very much about him, boy," the Templar coughed again, fading. "All I know is that he goes by the initials AS and is highly skilled. I know nothing else."
"Then it is time for you to die," Edmund said coldly as he retracted the blade. "Rest in peace."
Edmund stood and dove over the side of the ship before he could be seen by the smugglers. Minutes later, he stood back atop the roof of the old tea house where Thomas and Jessie awaited him.
"It is done," Edmund informed his fellow Assassins. "Charles Vance is dead, and London will be better because of it. Now it is time to return to our bureau."
The three Assassins descended from the roof and walked back towards the clock tower, and orange glow illuminating the river.
Upon their return, Thomas and Jesse made their way towards the weapon racks as Edmund approached his Mentor's desk. The Mentor stood and shook Edmund's hand.
"I trust your mission went according to plan?" Raoul inquired.
"Yes, and no, Mentor," Edmund said as he let go of his Mentor's hand. "Charles Vance is dead, and we managed to destroy much of his merchandise. I have some more information about the man responsible for killing my parents, as well. The man has the initials AS. It isn't much, but it's a start."
"That is a good start," Raoul agreed. "Your uncle will be pleased to learn of this. He should return in a few days. Now, what is the bad part?"
To answer his Mentor's question, Edmund reached into his robes and pulled out the notebook, giving it to Raoul. The older Assassin began to read through it, frowning as he did. "Jesse expressed many of these concerns herself throughout Thomas' training. He tended to rush in without much thought on missions that required vast amounts of stealth, despite multiple attempts daily."
"If the guards outside had noticed us, our mission would have been compromised," Edmund explained. "And he killed a young man he could have easily disarmed. He did not need to die because he was not that well trained, and therefore, not that great a threat. Our stealth was all we needed. I told him not to spill blood, and made a point not to spill any myself to lead by example. He does not listen and does as he pleases. He could put us in danger."
Raoul nodded and looked towards where Thomas stood wiping the blood from his dagger. "Then, Mister Jameson, it appears as if we have only one option."
The Mentor walked in front of his desk. "Mister Mont. Please step forward."
Thomas turned, a slight look of shock on his face. He walked into the middle of the room.
"Mister Mont," Raoul spoke solemnly, "the behaviour you have displayed since your entrance into the Brotherhood has been recorded as rash and irresponsible. You have not followed the instructions given to you by your superior ranked Assassins, your peers. Your actions, under other circumstances, could have further endangered their lives as well as yours." The Assassin Mentor stepped forward, taking first Thomas' right forearm, then his left, removing his Hidden Blades. "Thomas Jackson Mont, I revoke rank and title as Assassin, and you are hereby exiled from the Brotherhood of London."
Thomas stood there, his face full of shock and surprise. Then, it turned to anger. "This will not be the last you see of me," was all he said before he exited the clock tower.
