The man finished calling out the names of the men I'd killed after quite some time - not all, I thought, but more than enough for the crowd to cheer at the thought of my death. I swallowed hard, hearing him move about on the gallows. This wouldn't be fun.

A tense moment passed, then I felt the wood disappear beneath my feet. I gagged at the feel of rope digging into my throat like a vice, not quite hard enough to snap my neck like it was supposed to, and twisted as violently as I could, my hands still bound behind my back.

This couldn't be how it ended. After everything I'd done, everything I'd accomplished, and everything I could accomplish, I was not going to die here, gasping for air like a fucking fish.

After what had to be minutes of me twisting in the air, I heard a gunshot, and in a heartbeat I hit the ground heavily. I writhed and coughed, trying to fill my lungs and desperately fighting against the rope around my wrists.

Hands grabbed me, and a blade cut off the rope, while someone else pulled the sack off my head. Tommy, Ippolita, and a man with glasses - was that Jack Weeks? - were crowding around me, urging me to get up. Ippolita and the man with her had my weapons, and I reached for them. "Ivanov is here-" I coughed harshly, hoping she hadn't gotten away yet. "We have to get rid of her."

Tommy cast a glance at the other two, then motioned for them to give me my weapons. They reluctantly did so. I put them back in their holsters and sheathes, and strapped the hidden blades on. Tommy assisted with the latter, and I mumbled a word of thanks.

Tommy put a hand on my shoulder, an uncharacteristic look of worry on his face. "You sure you can handle yourself, girlie?"

My hand rubbed at my throat as I nodded. I'd been in chokeholds before. This had been more painful by far, but I was certain I would be fine - and, admittedly, had an urge to snap Ivanov's neck for trying to have me killed.

Tommy relaxed again, clapping me on the shoulder and chuckling. "Good luck, then. Try not to almost die again - boss'd have my head if something happened to you."

Ippolita grabbed my arm, looking at me with concern. "Be careful, I do not wish to see you die."

I nodded to her, patting her hand, and peeked out at the crowd. It took a second to find Ivanov, but there she was - pushing her way through the mass of people, struggling to escape.

I unholstered my pistol as I ran for her. People around me were panicking, unsure what to do or which shouting soldier to listen to. My feet slowed, and I took aim. Ivanov spotted me just as I pulled the trigger, and she sank to her knees, clutching at her side.

Her hands scrabbled at the axe on her back, just managing to get it in her hands before I reached her. My hands went for the handle, clutching at it and trying to wrestle it from her grasp. People jumped away from us as we pushed and shoved.

With a final heave and an aggressive growl, she managed to make me lose my grip. I stumbled away, taking in ragged breaths as I reached for my sword.

She swung at me, grunting with the effort, and I ducked just in time for the blade to miss me.

I managed to unsheath my sword while she steadied herself. She turned to me again, and swung at me with an angry shout at the same time I lunged at her. She aimed high, I aimed low.

Her blade left a gash in my arm, one that caused pain to sear through the limb. But my blade connected with her achilles tendon, and she howled as she stumbled, catching herself with the head of her axe. She snarled at me as she tried to right herself, unable to stand with that tiny, crucial little puzzle piece severed.

She let go of the axe reached for her pistol, grabbing at it with unsteady hands. I reached her, moving despite the burning pain, and plunged my sword into her left shoulder. Her fingers dug into my arms, knuckles white, her face contorted in what could only be described as the most hellish, intense rage I'd ever been subject to in my life.

"You- Because of you, everything we've ever worked for will go to waste!" She spat in my face. She gasped quietly as I pulled back on my sword, and it came out of her with a gross wet noise. I used one foot to kick her back, and she had the nerve to laugh at me. "But, then again, I'm not the only one who disagrees with this foolish, naive plan of yours, who wants to see you and that damned fool Kenway dead. You'll get what's coming to you for running this rite into the ground, both of you will."

I hadn't a doubt in my mind that she would have rambled on for even longer, but she shut up with a hiss when I placed a foot right on the bullet wound in her side and cruelly pressed down, slowly twisting my foot from side to side. I glared down at her. "Anyone who wants to kill Kenway has to go through me first. And I can promise you, they'll all end up just like you."

She sneered at me, the expression not quite as powerful as it could be, given the way her breathing was faltering and her pallor was only turning paler. "You're an ignorant child, and if you have to learn your lesson by starting a war in your efforts to end another, then so be it."

She sat there, spitting out insults and threats, for seconds longer, then she fell silent. The crowd was leaving by the time she was still, a frenzied rush of people trying to get away from a murder. Charles' shouts were just managing to keep the guards at bay, insisting they focus on directing the terrified civilians as opposed to coming after me. Ward and Washington looked ready to step in at any second, however. Tommy motioned for me to follow him and the other two, and with how exhausted and pained I was, I did as he wanted.

As I was led away, I learned the man in glasses was indeed Jack Weeks. Weeks… well, I didn't get much out of him on the walk to Ippolita's fancy manor, nor while the doctor there patched up the nasty gash on my arm (the adrenaline in my veins had faded, and now the pain was much more severe, even with the ointment the doctor'd slathered on). Weeks was charismatic enough to ever so politely deflect each of my questions. I could respect that, even if it frustrated me.

Ippolita'd placed a gentle hand on my uninjured arm once the doctor had finished up and excused the two of us, leading me away. She brought me to a finely decorated room, and the large, soft-looking bed was the first thing to catch my eye.

Ippolita led me over to it, sitting the both of us down on its edge. "It is good to see you again, even if the circumstances are less than favorable."

I smiled tiredly. "I can think of worse places to be than a lavish room with a pretty woman sitting next to me."

She covered her mouth as she giggled. "Do not waste your energy flattering me. You need to get some rest."

I was about to respond when Tommy, in all his drunken grace, sauntered into the room. He looked at Ippolita and nodded at the door. She left with a quiet goodbye, and Tommy grinned at me. "Quite a predicament you got yourself into, eh?"

"Hey, I'm alive, and I've three fellow Templars here to protect me. All considered, this went a lot better than expected." As soon as I finished talking, a yawn forced its way out of my mouth.

"Right, well, you feel up to walking around, you can find me at the nearest tavern." He said before he left. I'd been all too happy to strip off my clothes - grimacing a bit at the damage done to the nice coat I'd grown attached to - and drop to the cot with a sigh.

Before I drifted off, my mind wandered to thoughts of where Connor was, then decided to figure it out the next day.