An Absurd Interlude
A Guest Chapter/Interlude/Ficlet thing by The Elven Spear, De Beta, for the fanfic "Tear Drop Bureau" by lolcats-r-hot
Disclaimer: In the interests of ensuring the non-suing of the authors, the disclaimer has been put here to inform you of the authors' non-owningness of anything resembling currently existing computer games, television, etc.
When you go to the grocery store, you expect certain things. Above all else, you expect groceries to exist. Similarly, when you go to the shipping and receiving center of a large conglomerate called the Spice Trade Federation-United, you kind of expect them to have spices. Lacrima was similarly expectant when she walked into the building with Altair while they were prepping for the upcoming mission. As the cooking professional of the team, it had been decided that Lacrima would be responsible for the peppers. Altair was jus there because he was bored. Apparently, even an assassin could get antsy. You'd think that sitting for hours waiting for a target would give them resistance against that sort of thing, but…
THE AUTHOR DIGRESSES.
Moving on. So, Lacrima arrived at Shipping and Receiving expecting that chilli peppers would be available for imminent procurement.
"Good day, madame!" said the cheerful clerk from behind the counter. "What can I do for you?"
"I need fifty kilograms of Bhut Jolokia peppers," said Lacrima, walking up.
"Ah…," said the clerk, looking at his ledger. "It appears that we are… out of peppers of any kind?"
There was a collective blink.
"You have GOT to be kidding me," said Lacrima, gaping in dismay. "The SPICE Trade Federation, a company whose name contains the product they are selling, is out of chilli peppers?"
"Well, we have some jalapenos, but I don't think they'd fit your purposes."
Lacrima face-palmed.
"So, where can we get some?" asked Altair, looming darkly like the skanky hoe-bag he is.
"I'll just c-check the archives, shall I?" stuttered the Clerk, pointing at the computer plugged in nearby and laughing nervously. In a moment, he had pulled up a spreadsheet detailing the shipping details of chilli peppers for STFU.
"Ah, sir, I have it!" said the Clerk, showing him the manifest. Altair stared. Lacrima stared. Both face palmed.
"You want us to do WHAT?" asked Lacrima.
"You'll have to go to Mexico to retrieve the latest shipment if you want it before next week," said the Clerk, cheerful again. He handed them two cell phones and two miniature Bluetooth headsets. "Here are two of the new Abstergo uPhone 6Gs. They have all the relevant data and apps downloaded. We don't have any free personnel at the moment, so I'll guide you two through the process."
"You?" asked Altair, eyebrow raised. "You couldn't be fit to guide a virgin in their first intercourse."
"Altair!" scolded Lacrima.
"I'll have you know, sir, that I am a fully qualified field technician. The only reason I'm here right now is because I'm on leave from active duty to recover from a gunshot wound I received in the field."
"More like you shot yourself in the foot," muttered Altair.
"What was that?" asked Lacrima, a dangerous glint in her eye.
"Nothing!" Altair replied, smiling like an angel.
An hour later, Altair and Lacrima were being driven through the Boston traffic snarl in a BMW. They were dressed in standard business casual wear, to alleviate suspicion. Altair protested that he would be recognized. The Armorer (for that had been where they had gotten their clothing) had snarked back that even his ugly mug was relatively normal in America. Altair had decked him in the face, and the two had left rather quickly after that fiasco. They checked in at the United Airlines booth and headed for their gate.
"Remind me again why I can't wear my hidden blade?" whispered Altair in Arabic, eyes darting around ceaselessly. If she hadn't known better, Lacrima would have sworn that Altair was nervous.
"Because it denotes you as an obvious assassin."
"But I can shank anybody in the way with it!"
"How would we get on the plane and where did you learn the word 'shank'?"
"We would fight our way on and hold the pilots hostage and Desmond mentioned the word once."
-sigh- "Altair, you're hopeless."
"Alright guys, can you hear me?" whispered a voice in their ears. Altair nearly jumped.
"Yeah, we can hear you," Lacrima muttered back. "How're we transmitting?"
"Don't talk so loud, just hum the words, it'll be less obtrusive and it hurts my ears when you talk. Also, for future, reference, you can call me CK from now on."
"Cool, so what do we do now?" asked Lacrima.
"Clearly, you can't go through security. They'd recognize you in a heartbeat. We've got a man on the inside, so what you need to do is move to Maintenance Tunnel 8C. I've marked it on your minimap."
"Minimap? What minimap?" asked Altair. "We have no map!"
"On your phone, sir," said CK, "There's an app called 'mGPS'. It provides a map of the area based on satellite imagery and any blueprints we have of the buildings in the area. The GPS function is based off of triangulation from various 6G transmitters in the area. There are typically several, so the location is usually fairly accurate. The location you need to get to is marked as a glowing yellow dot. Your position is marked with a green dot. Any allies that have linked to your phone are blue dots, and the last known position of an enemy unit is marked with a red dot. Got it?"
"Ummm…," Altair grimaced, looking at Lacrima, "no."
"Don't worry, I got it," said Lacrima, opening up the app with several prods of the touchscreen. "Alright, the objective is to our… left. Let's go, we only have an hour until boarding time."
Trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, Lacrima and Altair strolled leisurely in the direction of the food court, apparently intent on finding some food before passing security. They each ordered a snack and sat down. Soon, they were accosted by a balding, fat man wearing a uniform labeled "MAINTENANCE".
"You guys looking for an eagle?" asked the man, whose name tag labeled him as being Bob Smith.
"Say that you're looking for the eagle that has no family," said CK. Altair cleared his throat, for it was a frightful thing to know that SO MANY PEOPLE knew your name, let alone, the MEANING of your name.
"Yes, we are looking for the eagle that has no family," he repeated dutifully.
"Oh. In that case, come with me," said Bob. Rather perplexed by this unusual exchange, Lacrima and Altair exchanged glances of unease and suspiciously followed their grease-stained "friend". He discretely opened a maintenance door labeled "8C".
"Well, we have the right door at least," said Altair.
"I think the eagle's down stairs," said Bob. "I have other business to attend to, so good day to you both." He waddled off. Altair stared after him.
"Your era uses very strange informants," he remarked, before descending the steps into Maintenance Tunnel 8C.
"….LOADING
….LOADING
…ERROR. No signal available, please try again later," said the animatronic and altogether disturbing voice of the computer.
"I'm GLAD to hear it," muttered Lacrima, following close to Altair. "Will we get cake at the end?"
"Unfortunately, the delicious cake I baked you was stolen and taken to Mexico. You'll have to eat it there."
"Oh, joy."
Altair gave her one of those "have you gone loopy?" looks.
"What?"
"Are you obsessed with cake or something?"
"I'm a baker. I bake cakes for a living. Yes I'm obsessed."
The pair of slightly disgruntled adventurers emerged onto a screaming tarmac. And by screaming, we mean jet engines. A private business jet with its door open waited on the parkway adjacent to their door. Another man wearing a screaming yellow jacket waved them over.
"THIS IS YOUR FLIGHT!" he shouted over the engines. "WELCOME TO BLANKETYBLANK AIRLINES!"
"IS THAT-?"
"SAVE YOUR QUESTIONS FOR THE FLIGHT ATTENDANTS!" Yellow Jacket Man replied. He bustled them up the steps, which closed behind them.
"Welcome to BlanketyBlank Airlines, flight number BB1048!" said the overly cheery flight attendant. "My name is Anna and I'll be your flight attendant for today! Before we begin our flight, Federal Law requires us to-.."
"Anna, we know the law. We know the security procedures. We will testify that you said these procedures. Please get us some Champagne," said Altair. "Is our luggage on board?"
"Your luggage was surreptitiously whisked away from the Airport's security. It is in the luggage hold as we speak!"
Altair and Lacrima moved to their seats.
"Do you really know the law?"
"No, but it got her to shut up."
Lacrima giggled quietly.
The flight was supremely uninteresting. Altair found the onboard entertainment interesting for all of eight minutes before he decided that it failed. Lacrima napped.
Before they knew it, they were landing at a private strip in Mexico.
"We'll wait for you here. Do you have everything you need?" said the pilot.
"Yes, yes, thank you," said Lacrima. "Our luggage is in the terminal, I guess?"
"Yep. As I said, we'll wait for you on the tarmac. That way, we run quickly if we need to."
Such a comforting thought.
After getting a room and... "relaxing" for an hour, Lacrima and Altair changed into more utilitarian clothing. Lacrima put on a white jacket (stain and water proof), a pair of dark jeans, and a dark-green shirt. Altair also changed into a pair of dark jeans and a dark-green t-shirt, then strapped his knives, sword, machete-thing, and hidden blade on, before throwing a long, white coat over it all.
"You don't look conspicuous at all," said Lacrima. "Why not just wear the hoodie?"
"A good assassin does not need to be invisible," said Altair. "A good assassin needs only to hide in plain sight."
"And being conspicuous will help that how?" asked Lacrima, strapping a dagger onto her belt.
"I need not hide in only crowds," said Altair, checking his throwing knives for rust. "Nobody ever actually looks at the roof, do they?"
"And...?" Lacrima clipped a phone-carrier onto her belt as well, securely fastening the iPhone within. Altair sighed.
"If nobody looks up, I need only stand on top of roofs to be unseen," he said, giving his sword an experimental twirl before sliding it back into its sheath, then unsheathing the machete-thing, all in one fluid movement. Finding that all his weapons were in good order, Altair put the hood on the coat up, then buttoned the second and third buttons.
Altogether, he rather greatly resembled his old self back in Masyaf.
"You need to wear that more often," said Lacrima, also ready. "It'd looovve to take it all off again..."
"We'll do that to celebrate our success, hmm?" said Altair, kissing Lacrima. "But first, our job awaits." He walked to the window.
"Where are you going?"
"To work." He opened the window, slashed out the screen, and leaped down. Lacrima gasped, running to it and looking out for Altair's unconscious body.
"Hey! Up here!" yelled Altair. Lacrima looked up.
"How'd you get up there?"
"I climbed. Come on up, you can do it to!" Lacrima gulped.
"Aiiiiii'm not too sure about that..." she said, staring down at the ground far, far away.
"You'll be fine! You have it in your blood!" Slightly encouraged, Lacrima inched her way out. The wood paneling of the building felt rough under her finger-tips. She searched for a hand hold and pulled herself up. She was now standing on the window sill. Squeezing her eyes shut, she reached again, grabbed, and pulled. Reach, grab, pull. Reach, grab, pull. Then all of sudden, she was clambering onto the roof, gasping from the tension.
"See, that wasn't so bad, was it?" asked Altair. "And look, you'd have missed an amazing view!" Lacrima looked around. The building they were standing on happened to be on a hill. Even though the hotel was only three stories high, it's elevated position allowed them to see the entirety of the small airstrip behind them, the surrounding countryside, and a nearby village. Lacrima's head set rang. Quickly, she hit the "accept" button.
"Right, the contact is driving up from that village up ahead," said CK. "He's got the peppers in a truck. You'll have to give him the money for the peppers and drive the truck up to the plane, then load the peppers and run for it." Altair sighed.
"Not unlike many of the missions I had to do back in Masyaf," he said, looking over the edge for a convenient stack of soft objects. Ah-ha!
"Lacrima, I hope you don't mind the smell of garbage," said Altair taking her by the waist.
"Wait, what?" Altair jumped over the edge, twisting in mid-air and landing safely. Lacrima screamed the whole way
"Next time, no screaming," said Altair, pulling her out of the trash. Lacrima grumbled and didn't reply.
"So CK, why are we changed into our Assassin gear?"
"Odds are that he's being chased by Templars. In fact, I do believe that this is the man driving up now."
"Huh?" asked Lacrima, peering toward the road as the roaring of a engine approached.
Then a Ford Pickup came flying over the hill, chased by two Land Rovers, Templars with assault rifles hanging out the window.
"Lacrima, hang back. I got this," said Altair, readying three throwing knives. Steady... steady... now! The blades whistled through the air, faster than the eye could see. Three Templar gunners fell dead as Altair unsheathed his dagger and ran towards the cars.
"Oh HELL no!" yelled Lacrima, unsheathing her dagger as well and chasing after. "I am NOT being left behind as the weak little girl again!" The pickup swerved toward them, the driver desperately trying to not get hit by the flying bullets. Thinking quickly, Altair jumped up, sprang off the hood, flipped in mid air, and came crashing onto the windshield of the first Land Rover. Glass flying around him, he hoisted the terrified driver and smiled maliciously.
"Hello darling," he said false-sweetly. "Would you like me to shove my knife into your sheath?"
"N-no?" stammered the driver as the car swerved wildly toward the hotel.
"Wrong answer," growled Altair, stabbing the unfortunate man viciously in the face, then dragging the blade downward, cracking the skull into two parts. Idly, he threw the now very much not alive driver into the fast approaching hotel wall, the skull shattering satisfyingly, before jumping off the roof of the car, flipping again, and landing in a crouch as the car crunched into the wall at 80 miles per hour, compacting the front and launching the two lackeys, who hadn't been wearing seat belts, forward, snapping various bones and killing them instantly. Stood up, brushing dirt off his pants and wiping the blood off his knife with a rag he pulled out of a pocket.
"Well, that went well."
Meanwhile, Lacrima was having slightly more trouble. Running on instinct derived from her ancestry, Lacrima also managed the trick of jumping onto the moving Land Rover. Problematically, her landing wasn't powerful enough to shatter the glass of the windshield. Rolling her eyes and determinedly NOT looking at the ground whizzing past, she balance-beamed her way over to the sun roof and peered in.
She was almost shot by a Templar.
"YEEK!" she yelled, stumbling backwards. Taking the initiative, said Templar poked his head out, ready to fire.
It was his last mistake.
Lacrima kicked out in a futbol penalty kick ((RED CARD FOR TEAM ASSASSIN)), launching the gun, a Glock pistol, flying. Spinning in place, she lashed out with the dagger, cutting the man's face open, spraying blood everywhere as he screamed horribly. Ignoring the blood and screaming, Lacrima dropped into the passenger compartment and quickly stabbed another Templar in the wrist as he went to shoot her. Stealing his gun, Lacrima aimed at the dashboard and fired, barely able to control the recoil. At such close range, however, it was basically impossible to miss. The bullets traveled easily through the un-bulletproofed dashboard and radio, crashing into the engine and royally screwing it over as gasoline and motor-oil spewed out of the cylinders. There was a muffled *BOOM* as one of the cylinders blew, denting the hood from the inside out. Lacrima paled. She quickly pistol-whipped the driver, stunning him, before opening the passenger door and leaping out, rolling to cushion her fall. Behind her, the Land Rover exploded, gasoline catching fire in a horrible chain reaction, throwing shrapnel everywhere that perforated the gas tank, causing the gasoline in there to ignite and overpressure, blowing what used to be a perfectly good car into a flaming hulk.
Altair watched from across the way.
"I am SO turned ON right now!" he muttered, face going slightly red. Stamping down the urge to pin Lacrima to the ground and screw her brains out, he strode over in a dignified way, sheathing his dagger, and offered Lacrima a hand.
"How'd I do?" she asked, battered and bruised but overall ecstatic.
"Eh, coulda been better," he said. Lacrima smiled at his slight blush.
"Oh, I think I did better than that," she said, smiling devilishly, pulling him close. "Maybe we should celebrate my success...?" She looked thoughtful for a moment as Altair got progressively redder and... more excited. "Nah," she said, letting go of Altair, who crashed to the ground. Lacrima ran over to the truck driver.
"Hey! We just saved your ass! Give us all the peppers for free!" she yelled as she ran up. The truck driver stumbled out of the car.
"Screw that! You can have the truck! I quit!" he yelled, running for the hills. Lacrima watched bemusedly.
"Okay!" she eventually called after him, waving. "Thanks!"
The flight back was also uneventful. After loading the peppers, Lacrima and Altair had decided to celebrate Lacrima's badass takedown in the hotel on the presumption of "air conditioning is good and planes are noisy". And by celebrate, we mean had wild, passionate sex for several hours. But of course you knew that. Later, dressed in more comfortable clothes for the trip back, they boarded the plane and slept the entire way back, too tuckered out by their... celebratory activities to stay awake. An assassin van was waiting for them on the tarmac when they arrived. The peppers were loaded, Altair and Lacrima got in the back, and the driver chauffeured them back to their residence, where they had a few drinks to toast a mission well done, then had more celebratory activities involving a bed and an absence of clothing.
'ZE END!
A/N: Okay, so I definitely rushed the ending and Lacrima and Altair are almost certainly out of character. Do you care? NO! Because it was LOLZY. Thanks for reading, REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW
-ElvenSpear