Malik tugged his jacket tighter around his body and wiggled his toes inside his boots. A strong and icy wind was whipping through the high street as it bounced off the high rise building either side of the narrow, shop lined street. He had just been to the bank to collect his and Altair's wages so they could go food shopping on the weekend. Altair was still at the compound giving Desmond his advance lessons; it would soon be the novice's assassination test to see if he was able to become a qualified assassin and achieve his whites. Altair was training him extra since the novices Desmond was up against had more training than the twenty-three year old (partly because they hadn't missed several years of training due to the fact they had ran away).

The ground was still wet from a shower of rain they had had a couple of hours ago, the slippery pavement stained dark and tiny droplets of rain water sparkling on Malik's black boots. His motor bike was parked in one of the small spaces by the side of the road. Malik smirked to himself as he took the cover off the seat; luckily he had common sense to put it on or he'd be driving home with a wet ass. Adjusting his gloves and slotting on his helmet, Malik straddled the bike, feeling it shift under his weight.

Slipping down the visor and gunning to bike into power, Malik pulled out and went on his way. He stopped at a red light when another motorbike came speeding up against him. Malik turned his head to look at the other driver who was a bit too close for comfort. The bike the black clad biker was sat on was red and the same make as Malik's; but something caught his eye. A small cross was painted onto the wheel rim. A templar cross.

Malik gritted his teeth, recapping what Maria had hissed at him the night before. He glanced at the red light then back at the driver. This time the templar was looking straight at him. They glared at each, eyes invisible under their helmets but the tension still radiated. Slowly, the templar's gloved hand went to his hip, Malik didn't like the fact he couldn't see that side of the bikers body. The hand reappeared, but this time, moulded into the bikers palm was a gun.

Malik didn't wait any longer. He kicked into speed despite the fact the lights were yet to change. He powered into the opposite traffic, swerving violently as car horns battered against his ears. A bullet whizzed past his head as Malik turned. He knew the tracker wouldn't stop, he knew that the templar would be following right behind him. Going at a speed that was way over the speed limit Malik took a sharp left. He had no weapons; he was driving for his life.

Malik lead the templar into an empty tunnel where the sound of their engines growled nosily in the dim light. The templar bike caught up and rammed into Malik's side. Caught off guard, Malik lost control, the force knocking his helmet off before his bike toppled over. Malik skidded across the tarmac, the side of his face gashing before he had the chance to twist into a safer position, his jeans and jacket tearing. Rolling over Malik stood, ignoring the blood that started to drip from rip in his skin.

The bike had cut out and was lying on its side in the middle, the paint scratched. Malik knew he had no choice; he had to fight and somehow win. The templar assassin rounded on himself and started to speed towards him. Malik backed up a few metres to the mouth of the tunnel and jumped up; grabbing the sign that said the maximum height a vehicle had to be to enter the tunnel. The templar didn't have chance to slow down and hurtled toward the entrance. Malik swung his body and landed on the templar. They tumbled off the bike, landing heavily on the road. Malik's bones jolted uncomfortably, but at least the templar broke his fall. Using his advantage, Malik gave no time as he wrapped his legs around the templar's neck and lent back onto his legs. Blank faced, Malik squeezed his legs tighter and tighter. The templar's hands clawed at his jeans, trying to tear the legs from around his neck. The legs under Malik's weight thrashed in a failing attempt to buck the assassin off. Malik looked up at the dim orange lights that lit the tunnel, the blood running down his face feeling slick and thick. After several minutes the body under him fell limp, no longer trying to fight for his live since live had left him.

Malik uncoiled his legs and moved to crouch by the body. Easing off the templar's helmet as so he could see his assassin's face, Malik rocked back on his heels. The face underneath was youthful and male, handsome at that. He looked no older than eighteen and this was most likely his promotion challenge. Templar always offered their promotions too young.

"Safety and peace young templar, you fought well" Malik said coldly, shutting the open eyes that stared wide eyed at the tunnel roof. Malik got up, get his own bike and helmet and leaving the scene. It was a message to the Templar's in a way. They would have to try a hell lot harder to kill him than they fought they would.

A/N: another Malik is awesome chapter. I listened to hell lot of Muse during this (mainly the song 'Assassin' irony much I know) I just thought you would like to know what I listened to when I right this for a change... I should tell you all more often.

Oh yeah, I have a non-pupil day tomorrow so after I've done my homework I can do some more stuff for you a bit faster. Well, if having to write my Twilight review doesn't mentally drain me that is (I hate that film)