Nine- Dakota

The entire school was called upon one Friday evening for a special announcement. We, like cattle shuffling into a slaughter house, moved into the auditorium and were seated by rank. The more experienced Assassin's were to sit in the back to watch over everyone of lower rank, newer arrivals were to be seated in the front and stay attentive during the presentation. I took my seat between James and Sofia about three rows back and center stage. Taking a quick glance around the room, I noticed that there was a lot more bodies then I was use to seeing in the cafeteria. There were at least three or four hundred people being seated before counting the two rows of mentors sitting on the stage.

"Wow," I said turning back around, "there are a lot of us here."

James snorted, "You think this is a lot of people? This doesn't even half the Templar's."

I blinked at him, "aren't there others though? Like Assassin's in the field?"

"Some- not enough," James shrugged.

The overhead lights dimmed sending a hush among the crowd. On stage, a mentor with long blonde hair rose from her seat and walked to the microphone.

"Good evening to you all," she said with a crisp British accent. "I am Mentor Christina Woods; some of you know me from IT trainings, while others have yet to have me for class."

There was a slight cheer from somewhere near the back.

Mentor Christina smiled, "ah, yes, that would be them. Now, we have gathered you here all tonight for a very special reason. You all are growing your skills to be Assassin's here, all knitting together from your backgrounds for a greater cause. Some of you have been trained all of your lives for the chance to take down our enemies, while the rest of you have come here wanting to better yourselves."

Her introduction speech drawled on with the same material I've been preached since Colt showed up at my door.

I shifted down in my seat, resting my arm on the armrest and putting my head in my hand.

James casted a sideways glance at me, and I rolled my eyes.

"Can we hurry this up a bit?" I whispered to him, "I still have that Renaissance History homework to finish."

James smirked and rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly before returning his full attention to Mentor Christina's speech.

"For the past few months, the Mentor's have been collecting progress notes from each recruiter as well as teacher's notes from all of your classes. We have also collected the video logs from each gym session you have attended- from class and private lessons, and have created files for every student here. As a collective group we Mentor's sat down and reviewed each and every single file. Why, do you ask? The Assassin's are looking for new ways to innovate the training process, to quickly train someone to the highest level achievable in half the time. With the help of a top secret invention by Mentor, Doctor Means, we think we can achieve our dreams. This invention will help us put new and highly efficient Assassin's into the field so they can help put an end to the Templar's.

"Together, we narrowed down the students to specific standards for this new mission. We have picked six students from varying ranks that meet these standards to participate in Phase One. They will be given new classes and training that are designed to be harder and much faster for this mission. Then there will be a review period of these six selected students, and two will be dismissed from the elevated training sequences. The four that remain will continue with Phase Two training, until yet again another review period. The last two people left in the course will embark onto Phase Three, which will be complete preparation for the mission. At the very end, one person will be chosen to use Doctor Means's invention for this prestigious mission.

"Now- for the six selected students to be announced, please come onto the stage to be recognized." Mentor Christina opened a slip of paper she had been holding, "First, from Rank five…Jeffery Williams- Canada."

There was a cheer from the back of the auditorium as a figure made its way forward to the stage. Once he was standing next to the Mentor, he shook her hand with a smile. He had black hair, very tall and looked strong. He wasn't exactly the most handsome guy I've ever laid eyes on- quite the opposite in fact, because he constantly looked vicious.

"From rank five…McKenzie Franklin- England."

A lean and pretty girl with red curly hair moved onto the stage and shook hands with both the Mentor and the fellow rank five.

"From rank four…Adrian Aleit- Germany."

The process continued with rank four's Ekundayo from Africa. The second to last person to be called was a rank three, Roger Greene from the United States. He was the only one I recognized; I shared both Renaissance History and Self Defense Level III classes with Roger, but I never once spoke a word to him. He was a handsome looking guy, blonde hair and blue eyes, and muscles that told me he has been doing this Assassin thing for a long time. I clapped for him though, since he was an underdog against all rank fives and fours. Roger moved onstage and shook hands with everyone before taking his spot next to Ekundayo in the line of the specially chosen Assassin's. Mentor Christina waited for Roger to be in position before returning to her paper. She screwed up her face for a second as she read the last name listed with a shake of her head.

She brought the microphone up to her lips, "finally, our sixth selected student is from rank one, Dakota Verdi- United States of America."

My mouth fell open and my entire body froze. It seemed everyone else around me had done the same. James and Sofia were staring at me, offering me no help to get my brain back on track of what bodily function I was to use next or even comfort and support. Slowly, very cautiously, I stood. There was no cheering, no clapping…just utter shocked silence and staring faces. Trying to move forward through the people still seated and looking up at me in the row was embarrassing. No one stood to make my passage easier, leaving me to stumble and squeeze past awkwardly. When I reached the very end of the row, a girl in the last seat put a foot out that I did not see, but my foot met her ankle, and sent me crashing down onto the floor. Lying on the auditorium floor in that moment made me wish for death to keep me from the equally embarrassing recovery while people snickered. As I stood, I offered the smug looking girl a glare of pure feminine piss off. With as much grace as I could muster, I moved to the stairs off the side of the stage. I could feel my hands shaking from nerves, from the threat of overwhelming tears of frustration. I moved towards Mentor Christina, and like the others, shook her hand along with the five other students picked. However no one seemed to genuinely accept the handshake over more than a have-to basis until I reached Roger on the very end. He smiled and shook my hand, even offering a few words of congratulations.

The mentors kept the six of us after the presentation concluded. They went over some basic rules with us about our trainings, and stressed that everything must be kept confidential. The six of us received new schedules that started immediately, and all other classes were no longer in our curriculum until we were removed from the special trainings. Nothing else was mentioned about the mission with Dr. Means' new invention, and nor was it hinted on what the invention even was. I kept to myself the entire meeting with crossed arms and down casted eyes. I was so confused and confounded all I wanted to do was retreat to my room and hide under my blankets. Why did the mentor's pick me? Compared to the other Assassin's-in-training here, I was a worthless initiate that can't do anything with weaponry to save my life. By the end of the meeting, I came to the conclusion that I was only filling in the sixth spot so they had someone easy to knock out of the contest. It was either that, or they just wanted a human punching bag to use.

"Now, you young Assassin's must remember the three tenets of our Creed," Mentor Christina said pacing slowly in front of us. "Stay your blade from the flesh of the innocent. Hide in plain sight. Never compromise the Brotherhood. "

"Nothing is true; everything is permitted," we six selected Assassin's said together.

She eyed each of us, "you are dismissed."

I walked away from the auditorium knowing that on Monday morning at eight o'clock sharp, I was to enter the gym for skills training with my six new competitors. Colt was running up behind me, telling me to wait up, but I just kept walking.

"Hey, Dakota, I have your file for you!" He said at a final attempt to catch my attention.

He succeeded.

I stopped and slowly turned to face him, "my file?"
"The file the Mentor's made for you and all of the other competitors. They gave them to the recruiters of each student so they could review it." He handed over a folder with my name marked across the top.

Taking the folder hesitantly, my frown deepened. "Do you know why they picked me?"

"Everything is in that folder for your information."

"Colt," I snapped, "I don't care what they have written in this folder. I want to know why the hell they decided to embarrass the fuck out of me and not any of these other first rank kids!"

Looking a little shocked, Colt answered my question, "they like the quick pace you can learn at, Dakota. That's it. That's the big secret."

"Oh…okay," I said a little guilty for snapping out, "Sorry, I just…I just don't want this."

"Why not? I had to fight tooth and nail to get you even considered."
Eyeing him with heat, I growled, "why, Colt? Why? I'm worthless compared to everyone else. I can't do this shit! I'm going to be knocked out first round so why the hell do you even care?"

Colt frowned and turned to leave, "because you sell yourself short."

I made my way back to my bedroom. On my desk laid the opened Renaissance History textbook and the homework that no longer was a requirement to complete. I threw away the homework pages and sat down with my folder placed on the desk. Flipping the folder open, I found a copy of the project's mission statement and the notes taken at every session about me by anonymous mentors. I started to read the first page which said nothing but good things about me in my learning abilities. The same could be said for the next two; however they both made comments about my low rank. When I reached the fourth page, my self esteem dropped completely. The mentor that wrote these notes hated me for several reasons: my low rank, inexperience, lack of knowledge of the Assassin's, and even putting snide comments about the way I looked. There were some very good comments, however. A few commented on how quickly I learned, and how much effort I put into my trainings. These few comments didn't help me regain any confidence; they were probably all being nice and tried to show sympathy to the new initiate. Feeling hurt by the mentors' words, I skipped the rest of the note assessments and found a notice from Doctor Means.

We all know that the Assassin's are quite outmatched by the wealth and power of the Templar Order. The Assassin's cannot train enough people to replace those who have perished with this ongoing struggle. It is up to us here at the Assassin Base to innovate the way we train our upcoming Assassin's. I am pleased to announce that my invention is finished, and I have tested the machine personally to ensure that, if properly conducted, it will cause no harm. The three phases of training will ensure the best student for this special mission; they will ready the student for what is to come. I will have the final say in who will be using my machine, simply because I know what it takes to use it. I am looking for someone who is dedicated, quick, smart, and strong- but a special kind of strong. The reason behind this is to ensure the best and fastest results for our young Assassin's, and to gain as much as possible from the experience.

It was not even four weeks ago that Colt was screaming at me during my private lessons. I couldn't do anything right then; what changed in these last few weeks that made me worth fighting with the Assassins so early? He kept screaming at me, reminding me at how slow I was at running, climbing…everything. I was pathetic at parkour, mostly held back by the fear of falling and breaking every bone in my body. Colt tried to teach me how to fight with swords and other weaponry of the sort, but he wasn't teaching me the steps, just simply attacking me in a fend-for-yourself style. He even slashed me across the arm with the blade of a sword one night. I had gasped in pain and started to apply pressure to the bloodied area. Colt screamed at me for that, too. He asked me what I would have done if I was in a real battle, and mocked my nursing actions. Colt continuously insulted my intelligence by repeatedly calling me stupid, and mocked me until I wanted to cry.

I remembered one incident where I was in my Intro to Weapons class. We were learning how to wield weapons used in martial arts. We started out using wooden swords and paired up with a partner to practice. My partner had accidentally slashed down on my wrist with quite a lot of force; actually I was lucky my wrist didn't break from the encounter. He apologized and I accepted it, but it was what came after that bugged me. A girl in my class, a rank four, started taunting me.

"Awe, little Dakota can't take a hit. Poor little thing," she started, and her friends laughed.

I turned my back to her and went to make my way towards the locker rooms.

"Welcome to the Assassin's, learn to take a hit. Mommy and daddy aren't here to save you anymore, sweetheart."

I stopped in my tracks and turned to face her.

"Oh look, she's mad. What you going to do, Dakota? You have nothing on a rank four."

"I'm going to tell you to shut the fuck up and leave me alone. I don't give a shit what rank you are, or about you to begin with."

"Hey!" She stepped towards me, "respect your higher ranks!"

The girl went to grab my hair with one hand, and pulled back a fist with the other. I quickly dodged the hand aimed for my hair and spun behind her. I grabbed the wrist she had pulled back and twisted it. She spun around and reached for my throat, but I retaliated against her downward grab with a forceful flat-footed kick to her stomach. It knocked the wind out of her, and while she was distracted, I quickly rushed in and wrapped my arms around her waist, picking her up, and slamming her onto the ground. When I started to move away from the defeated rank four, everyone in the class was staring at me. I looked around at everyone with the same angered gaze before trying to retreat once more. Then, in the next moment came the most hated noise I had become accustomed too- Colt screaming at me.

"Dakota, what the hell do you think you're doing?" He was rushing forward towards me, about to make a huge scene in front of everyone. "You stupid, good for nothing-"

"-Colt that is enough!" Shouted someone from the back of the gym.

I turned to find Mentor Erik pushing himself through the gathered crowd of students with a very stern look on his face.

"Mentor Erik, you-"

"-Shut up, Colt. Miss Verdi was acting in her defense. And matter of a fact, I believe I will be taking away your private training privileges with Dakota starting immediately- until you learn how to coach properly."

"What?" Colt gasped, "And who will be training her then?"

Mentor Erik clasped his hands behind his back, "I will. Eight P.M. Saturday nights in gym two. Is that correct Miss Verdi?"

I jumped at the sudden question, "uh…yes, that's correct."

"Add on Monday night at Five P.M. to your schedule as well, Miss Verdi."

"Yes, Mentor," I nodded.

I was still shocked how Mentor Erik practically came to my rescue. My first private training with the mentor was a pleasant experience. He praised me on everything Colt told me I was doing wrong. Mentor Erik was impressed with how fast my running times were, and how quickly I could dodge and block. He said with a little more practice I would be able to strike like lightening.

Mentor Erik introduced me to the Sai blades in our second trainings together. He showed me how to spin the blades to go back and forth between an attack stance and a defensive stance. Slowly, he started to teach me how to defend against attacks using the blades. Defending turned into countering moves of my opponents. Countering moves turned into learning how to attack. Mentor Erik would use a variety of different weapons against my Sai blades, prepping me to expect different tactics to each weapon. The mentor found that I had somewhat of a fascination for using blades, and started to teach me how to throw knives. It helped me learn how to aim as well, a skill Colt quite easily overlooked. As my aim improved, Mentor Erik introduced me into learning how to shoot pistols.

Soon, we started a training schedule. On Monday's we worked on refining my skills with the Sai blades, throwing knives, and pistols. Saturday's were dedicated to working on my strength and conditioning, climbing various platforms in the gym, using all of my senses, and stealth. Mentor Erik even allowed me to use hidden blades strapped to my arms, which upon a flick of my wrist, ejected a silver blade. He taught me assassination techniques and how to use my surroundings to my advantage- including tricks to performing air assassinations.

"Dakota," Mentor Erik said nearing an end of a Saturday lesson, "Colt had written in your recruitment notes that you have the sense."

"The sense?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

He chuckled, "Eagle Vision."

"Oh…that."

"So it is true then? You can use the sense?"

"I guess- I mean I don't make a habit of doing so, but I have used it before."

"Eagle Vision helps the Assassin's who have unlocked the sense to indicate their allies, enemies, and targets. Perhaps you should experiment with it some more, Dakota."

I shrugged, "I really don't like it."

"Why is that?"

"Well I guess after having kids make fun of you in elementary school, you tend to not like it so much."

Mentor Erik laughed and clasped his hand on my shoulder, "Simply because they do not understand. Dakota, you are quite the promising young Assassin, I must admit that."

After the incident with Colt, we did not speak for awhile. It took him about three weeks after the screaming incident in the gym to approach me again. I was sitting in the Base's library alone, working on some homework in the peace between the shelves filled with books. It was the quietest place in the Base on a Friday night, considering no one wanted to participate in a late night study party when class had let out for the week. If it hadn't been for my early Saturday morning martial arts class, I would have adventured out on the town with my friends that night. As I read through my textbook on the search for answers of a worksheet on Renaissance History, I heard the muffled footsteps upon the carpeting approaching. I looked up from my textbook, but I did not see anyone approaching my corner through the bookshelves. With a few concentrated blinks, I activated Eagle Vision to find Colt walking towards me with an impassive expression. I rolled my eyes, and returned to my textbook as he approached.

He stopped in front of my table, "Dakota, may I sit with you?"

"Knock your socks off."

"Well," Colt pulled out a chair and sat down, "I…uh…want to apologize for what was said at the gym. I was upset because anything you do wrong comes back on me. I didn't see what had happened, exactly, and I just watched you beat the hell out of a rank four for seemingly no reason."

"There was a reason," I said smartly.

"Yes, and I know that now. But, Dakota, I am sorry for what I said."

"I forgive you, Colt."

"Enough to allow me to train you again?"

I folded my hands on my book and thought for a minute. "I want to finish out this module with Mentor Erik. He's been teaching me a lot of things and we're in the middle of some important lessons."

"I understand. Thank you, Dakota. I'll leave you to your work," Colt stood up and pushed his chair under the table.

"See ya later," I smiled back, and returned to my homework.

I sat back in my chair with a heavy sigh, remembering how crazy these past few weeks had been. I wished Colt didn't try so hard to have me considered for this mission. I knew that I was nowhere close to being qualified enough for being sent out on a mission; the higher ranks deserved the opportunity, not a rank one initiate. I didn't care how well I was progressing in my private trainings; it wasn't enough experience to outweigh the other's accomplishments. There was the overwhelming feeling that I was only picked for my father's previous standings with the Assassin Brotherhood, and that angered me. Just because my father was a Master Assassin should not give me any special standing here at the Base.

Trying to stop my frustrations, I closed the folder and put it inside one of the desk drawers. I readied myself to take a shower where the hot water could melt away my frustrations. I retired early for the night and fell asleep, my body exhausted from everything these past few months.