Chapter Fourteen
A/N: At one point, I use an Italian phrase meaning 'Who's there?'. I'm not sure if it's right...so... I apologize in advance if I'm completely wrong XD
Lucy shuts off the headlights of their white van, currently parked in Abstergo's built-in parking garage. Desmond and Grace would only have a few feet to go before they would find the emergency staircase to take them inside...she could only hope there wouldn't be too many security guards in here today.
"Be careful, you two." She whispers as they pop open their doors and slip outside. "Stay on your toes."
"You too." Desmond mutters without looking back. "Stay low, below the dashboard. We don't want anyone seeing you."
"Right." She immediately slides down in her seat so she's eye level with the steering wheel. "Good luck." And with that, they gently close the doors and hurry away into darkness.
Each time Grace's shoes smacked on the concrete floor of the garage, her heart would jump. It never got easier being this close to the enemy, even after all these years of being an Assassin and all the dangerous missions she'd gone on. And the fact that Lucy was their only link to the outside world didn't make it any better. Grace tried to be sociable with her...humane, at least. But she really didn't trust her. There was just something weird about the blonde woman that Grace simply couldn't put her finger on...
And to make matters worse, Desmond seemed to be wrapped around her finger. Grace wasn't blind or stupid. She could see, as well as, sense how close those two had become. Desmond wasn't the fickle type. If he trusted someone, he would remain loyal to them as long as possible. Until it became painfully obvious they were no longer trustworthy... Her cousin had always been that way. It made him both honorable...and a little naive.
"There's the door!" Desmond whispers, motioning to their far left.
"Yeah, I see it." She agrees.
The two Assassins move easily through narrow spaces between vehicles. Now that they've slowed down to a more acceptable pace, their steps are silent. They are a pair of shadows slipping through the darkness.
Desmond kneels down in front of the locked door and presses the trigger on his hidden blade. It hisses open, gliding down the length of his forearm. "Cover me." He mumbles, sticking the blade into the lock.
"Right." Grace tenses, her fingers brushing the trigger of her own blade.
A few seconds later, there's a muffled 'clunk' and the door swings open. Desmond tells her to follow him and they dissapear inside, shutting the door behind them.
Even Abstergo's emergency stairwell was entirely stark white. The steps were polished and shiny but the fresh wax squeaked below their feet, making Desmond flinch with every step they climbed.
It was pitch black inside the building, save a few dim lights that poured out from beneath every other door. So when Desmond and Grace finally found the entrance to the rest of the building, they knew they were alone.
Both flick on their headphones at the same time.
"Lucy?" Desmond whispers into his earpiece. "You there?"
A small pause follows and then, "Yeah, I'm here. Are you guys in?"
"Yeah."
"Good." On Lucy's end of the conversation, there was the sound of rustling paper. "I've got a map of the building in front of me so I can guide you to where they keep their security files."
"Okay, where to?" Grace asks her, ready to finish so they can leave.
"Uh..." She hesitates. "You guys are in the west wing right now, in front of the fire escape, right?"
"Right."
"Directly to your left, there's a long hall. Take it."
They need no more encouragement to begin jogging, lightly, down the corridor. Their sneakers make only the slightest noise, bringing a small comfort to the pair of Assassins.
"At the end of it, you'll an archway that leads into a big, open room. That's the lounge, see it?"
Desmond has to squint to read a metallic sign above the arch. But surely enough, it reads: LOUNGE. "Yep."
"Inside, there's another door directly in front of you. Through there is the restrooms which will take you to a hallway parellel to where you are now."
Grace frowns at the pair of doors. "Men's room or women's?" She asks.
"Either one." Lucy tells them.
Desmond and Grace glance at each other before he smirks.
"I've always wanted to know what the girl's room looks like."
She rolls her eyes before opening the women's room door and leading them through to the other side. She wastes no time in throwing it open and stepping into the hall. But just then-
"Chi c'é?" Someone cries, almost angrily.
Desmond grabs her arm and yanks back inside, not caring that the door has slammed heavily once again. He curses under his breath and they sprint back into the lounge.
"What's going on?!" Lucy demands, frantically.
"Security guard." Desmond growls.
"Great!" Lucy groans. "Hide somewhere."
"Already on it."
They kneel down behind one of the white-leather sofas, making sure to keep their heads low. Desmond's blade is out and at the ready. Grace, however, has her hand hovering just above a pistol strapped to her thigh.
They both tense when the lounge door flies open and two sets of feet come rushing in. The beam of a flashlight zips past them several times as two guards speak in hurried Italian to each other.
Desmond strains to understand them but decides to give up. Now's not the time for a lesson in linguistics. The guards bark foreign phrases at each other and Desmond's pretty sure they have radioed someone on their walkie-talkies. It's only a matter of time before they're found...
He looks at Grace. She had more experience with this stuff than him, right? But she didn't look like she was coming up with a plan. She just looked tense, like she was pondering whipping her gun out right then and there. Then again, that might've been her plan...
He frowns. These people probably weren't Templars. Just innocent people doing their jobs. He didn't want to kill them. They didn't deserve to die for the Templars. Desmond reaches down and touches Grace's hand. When she looks up at him, he shakes his head.
Don't shoot them. He can only hope she understood. We'll wait it out...they might leave.
Almost on que, one of them gets dangerously close to their hiding spot. The guard waves his flashlight directly above them, casting a milky glow on the wall. He turns away slightly and says something to his companion.
Grace looks feverishly at Desmond. She grabs his arm and tugs him forward. They needed to move. If they stayed there too much longer, they'd be found for sure. Desmond obviously didn't want to kill these men, for whatever reason. If that was the case, they needed to move to a new hiding place.
The sofa a few feet away looked to be the primal choice at the moment. If they could just get there without being seen...
"Assassini!" One of the guards bark, jabbing a finger at them from where he'd managed to sneak up behind them, while they were distracted by his companion.
Before either Desmond or Grace can register what's happened, there's the tell-tale click of a magazine beind loaded. A hammer being snapped back. A chamber being cocked...and then...
BANG!
Italian Phrase: means "Who's there?"