First, I would like to thank everyone who is reading this and giving this story a chance. From the Bar is going to be my first multi-chapter fan fiction that isn't a collection of drabbles like my Uncharted fan fiction, Through the Years.
Second, I would like to thank There She Goes for editing and always providing support.
I look forward to your reviews.
This is a fan fiction, all themes and character belong to Ubisoft. No copy-write infringement intended.
Chapter One – Familiar Faces
"Another rough day, Lucy?" Nathan asked as he gently placed a small martini in front of her. She sighed and nodded, taking a sip. Her head fell into one of her hands as she tried not to lose her cool. Clay Kaczmarek was getting worse and worse, and it was all her fault. Lucy took in a shuddery breath, rubbing her forehead. This was getting harder and harder for her to do each day. "Hey…" he placed a hand over hers' and she looked up, meeting his gaze. "Everything's going to be okay."
"I don't know Nathan. Things are pretty fucked up right now." She said softly. He laughed lightly, patting her hand before mixing a drink for one of the waitresses.
"I know Lucy, I know. But sometimes we have to do things we rather not. You just have to get through it, one step at a time." He gave her a small, sympathetic smile. "You can do it Lucy. I've got faith in you."
She returned his smile with a weak one and took another sip of her drink. "Thanks. It's good to know that somebody does."
Lucy felt sick to her stomach as she stared at the unconscious man in the Animus. When she had first stepped into the room, she thought she was seeing things. But Lucy's eyes weren't playing tricks on her. Laying in the Animus was her main contact and connection to the Brotherhood of Assassin's. The man, for the past five years, had not only kept her informed on nearby on the happenings of other assassins and checked up on her undercover assignment, but had helped her stay in some form of contact with old friends hiding somewhere within the city. She was already worried that Vidic suspected that she was with the Assassins rather than unallied. And now the one thing truly keeping her connected to the Brotherhood was trapped her with her.
Two years into her assignment, she had begun to doubt herself, questioning if she was really on the right side or not. Lucy had felt so lost and alone at one point, she seriously considered abandoning the Brotherhood and begin making ties with the Templars. But that had all changed when she had wandered into a bar near Abstergo. She hadn't even touched the wine list when the bartender pushed a dark, yet vivid red drink in front of her. The man had given her a simple smile, asked if she just finished up a bad day at work and slowly eased her into a steady conversation. At first, Lucy had been very wary, unsure if this man was a Templar. It didn't help him that he seemed to look very familiar to her. But as they talked, she noticed all the small, subtle hand gestures and phrases. Hand gestures and phrases that were taught to Assassin's who specifically went undercover. And that simple message he had given her was all she needed. You're not alone anymore. I'm here to help.
But now he was here in the lion's den. Something Lucy had always feared.
"Ah! Ms. Stillman! I've been waiting for you!" Vidic said, excited as a child on Christmas morning. Lucy felt ill all over again.
"I noticed. Who…?" She tried her best not to let her emotions show. It wouldn't help either of them if her panic gave them away.
"Our newest subject! And I must say, he had quite an impressive bloodline." The old man chuckled. Lucy quirked an eyebrow in question as he handed her a file. She opened it up and had to re-read it at least three times. "Desmond Miles! Twenty-eight years old, been working as a bartender at the Pen & Ink. We can trace his ancestry all the way back to the Middle Ages."
"The Middle Ages?" Lucy repeated. All she could do was stare at the file in her hands and feel like an idiot. Desmond Miles, the son of William Miles. No wonder he looked so damn familiar! Even though it had been nearly seven years since she had even seen William Miles, it was so obvious now; the resemblance between father and son was strong.
"Yes! High Middle Ages to be more precise. We have reason to believe that Mr. Miles here is a possible descendent of Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad." Vidic explained. "Let's get started, shall we Ms. Stillman?"
Her head snapped up. What the hell was Vidic thinking? Trying to sync up an unconscious person – Subject Lucy. You have to call them subjects here – could be highly dangerous; especially when someone had to be drugged and sedated to get them into the Animus. "Are you sure?" She looked back at the file, reading how much sedatives were administered to Nathan- to Desmond. "With the amount of sedatives in his system, we don't know how long he'll be out. With one session alone he could go into a coma."
"Then I guess we'll have to take that risk." He cut her off as she started to object, "We're close to finding it! I can feel it! Now synch him up Ms. Stillman! We don't have time for arguments." Vidic instructed. Apparently the old man didn't want to listen the possible, negative impacts. He was so damn confident in his belief that Nathan – no, Desmond, Desmond was a descendent of Altaïr. One of the most revered man in the history of the Brotherhood. She clenched her jaw and headed over to the control panel.
"Sometimes we have to do things we rather not. You just have to get through it, one step at a time Lucy"
She glanced over at Desmond's unconscious form again before starting the synchronization process. It felt like it had been ages since he had given her those words of wisdom. She wondered if he would keep doing so while they were both stuck here. Lucy quietly sighed, barely listening to Vedic's excited ramblings as the Animus began synchronizing Desmond to Altaïr's memories. She did as she was told and begin to try and access Altaïr's first encounter with a Piece of Eden. She gnawed on her lower lip as the Animus started to show signs of lag. A look over to Desmond confirmed that he was trying to wake up.
"Dr. Vidic, he's waking up." Lucy said softly.
"Oh damn it all! Continue with synchronization, Miss Stillman." Vidic ordered.
She nodded, biting back her fear as she kept a steady eye on Desmond's vitals. There was no way in hell that she would let him become like Subject 16, like Clay. Lucy watched as his mind began to fight off the Animus and silently cheered him on as she informed Vidic. It was clear to both of them that he was now regaining full consciousness. Vidic barked at her to keep trying, she knew it wasn't going to happen though. But she played the part of the willing assistant.
"We've got a problem! I can't anchor him to the memory. Too much psychological trauma." Lucy briefly wondered if it was more Altaïr's trauma than Desmond's. "He's rejecting the treatment. Retreating." She began to try to put him in an earlier memory, ready to eject him at any given notice.
"Desmond. I need you to try and relax." The old man instructed.
"Let me try and stabilize it." Lucy continued to keep an eye on Desmond's vitals and stats, not too terribly surprised to see that he was now awake and fully alert.
"Focus. Listen to the sound of my voice." She was tempted to tell Vidic that no one wanted to listen to the sound of his voice. "Recognize that what you're seeing isn't real, just a picture of the past. It can't hurt you." Bullshit.
Desmond's vitals started going off the charts; she could tell that he was trying to fight off the Animus with more gusto. And while she was proud of him doing so, this was far too dangerous. He was going to do some very serious psychological damage to himself if he kept it up.
"Damn it! It's not working!" She said with false anger.
"Give it a moment, Ms. Stillman! He'll… adjust. The first time is never easy." Vidic said, almost in a careless sort of tone.
"We're losing him!" Technically, that was a lie. Lucy was actually starting the desynchronizing process, but Vidic could never truly tell the difference between an operator desynch and a forced desynch. That's why she operated and over looked essentially all Animus sessions.
"That's enough Ms. Stillman!" Vidic snapped.
"We need to pull him out. Now." She glared at the older man. She wasn't going to let Desmond stay in that damn machine any longer. She wouldn't let him become like Clay. The Animus cleanly desynchronized and removed Desmond from Altaïr's memory, and Lucy let out a quiet sigh of relief. His eyes snapped open, quickly taking in his surroundings before closing them, groaning at the bright florescent lights. "Are you okay?" She resisted the urge to take hold of his hand and to let him know that she was sorry.
"I told you he'd be fine." Vidic said. Lucy shot him a dirty look.
"Bastards!" Desmond hissed as he started rubbing a temple.
"Now, now. I just saved your life." Vidic lied. Desmond knew though that the old man needed him alive. The Animus couldn't work with an inactive brain after-all. Lucy gave Desmond a small smile as she helped him sit up.
"Saved my life?!" he scoffed, "You kidnapped me! Drugged me up and the next thing I know I'm in that… thing!"
"Animus. It's an Animus." Vidic corrected.
"Whatever. Save for Miss Frequent Customer here," Desmond jerked a thumb in Lucy's direction, "I don't even know you people! What the hell is going on here?" She heard Desmond drum his fingers twice in a rapid motion before repeating the action once at a slightly slower pace. She turned her head away from him, tucking an invisible loose hair behind her ear, making sure her pinky was out and slightly curled.
Did you know?
No.
"You have information we need, Mr. Miles." Vidic answered.
"Information?" Desmond laughed, "I'm a bartender for christsakes! What do you want me to do? Teach you how to mix a martini?"
Vidic frowned, "We know who you are. What you are."
Desmond's eyes narrowed and he studied the old man. "I don't know what you're talking about." He said evenly. Lucy shifted nervously as she watched the two stare each other down, sizing each other up. Almost as if they were daring the other to reveal how much the other knew.
"Don't play coy with me. There isn't time. You're an Assassin. And whether you realize it or not, you've got something my employers want. Locked away in that head of yours."
Desmond frowned, "But I'm not an Assassin. Haven't been for a long time." Lucy felt her heart speed up. He had told her that he had briefly left the Brotherhood, but if the Templars had found out that Desmond was an active member and was aiding her… She suppressed that train of thought. Neither of them could afford to think about the consequences at the moment. They had work on keeping Vidic in the dark in the moment, keeping him from suspecting too much.
"Yes… your file indicated as much. Something about an 'escape'." Vidic said with a smirk and Lucy felt herself breathe a little easier. She kept her eyes trained on her consol as Vidic and Desmond continued on with their verbal spar. It was hard to listen to after being through it so many times already. She clenched her jaw as the old man told Desmond he would be 'free to go' after he accessed the memory of Altaïr's they were after. More like free to go in a body-bag. She and Desmond briefly glanced at one another. They didn't need to do any special gestures to show how they knew the truth.
"I'm not going back in there." growled Desmond.
Don't fight back too much… They might sedate you just to ensure they reach their goal.
"Then we'll induce a coma and continue our work. When we're done, you'll be left to die. Truth be told, the only reason we didn't do it in the first place is because you being conscious saves us time." Vidic said smugly.
"You're insane."
"What is it, Mr. Miles? Live, or die?" Desmond looked between him and Lucy. Lucy discreetly nodded towards the Animus and watched as he grumbled out a series of obscenities as he lay back down in the Animus. Vidic nodded to her and Lucy began to prep Desmond to synchronize with Altaïr's earlier memories. She held back a smile as Desmond played along with Vidic's 'What's a Genetic Memory' game. A glance over at Desmond revealed that he was smirking.
"And the Animus lets you decode and read these DNA files…?" Desmond 'asked', quirking an eyebrow. Vidic confirmed it and looked like he was about to go on and on about something she and Desmond already knew.
"But there's a problem." Lucy interjected before Vidic could truly ramble, ignoring the older man's annoyed glare. "This is the specific memory we're trying to access." She highlighted the memory block, briefly flashing the 'P.O.E. contact' underneath it for Desmond to see. "Unfortunately, when we try to open the memory, your mind withdraws. You lack the confidence to step into your ancestor's body. That's what was happening earlier. You got knocked out of the target memory and pushed back into stable state."
"And why~ did that happen?" She could hear a slight tone of playfulness in his voice.
"It's your subconscious. It's resisting." She briefly explained the similarities between what happened earlier and hypnosis patients. "You need to be eased in. Even then there can be problems." She warned. Even though she knew Desmond knew the risks, but she had to remind him. If not for him, then at least for her state of mind. Lucy continued on with the usual dialogue she gave to every test subject that didn't have to be put into a coma and before long, she was starting up the tutorial program. Desmond nodded at her after she finished up her speech, shifting a little to get a little more comfortable. A small, quiet sigh past her lips as she began to line up a memory he would have no problem diving into.
"So, just how frequent of a patron of the Pen & Ink are you Miss Stillman?" Vidic asked as Desmond began the memory.
She almost jumped when he spoke. She had gotten use to the quiet that had filled the room and hum from the Animus. "About once a week. He knows how to make one hell of a martini." Lucy answered. No point in lying. She did go to the bar about once a week and Desmond did mix the best drinks she had ever had.
"Ah." Was all Vidic could say. He was probably expecting a more skittish reaction.
"I wish I would have been informed that Desmond was going to be our new subject. Now I'll have to have my weekly drink here." She paused for a moment, frowning. "And probably have to buy all the ingredients for my favorite drinks and equipment to make them too." She felt genuinely annoyed by this fact. She was not looking forward to having to spend all that cash. Good alcohol was never cheap. And surely any equipment Desmond needed wouldn't be cheap either.
"Surely you can find another bar Miss Stillman." Vidic said with a slight laugh.
"Like you can find another test subject who is so cleanly synchronizing with Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad." She replied coldly, glaring at him, " , I have very particular and picky taste when it comes to my alcohol. Our current subject has met and gone beyond those standards."
"There's no reason to get angry."
" ! I have devoted nearly seven years of my life on this project. Seven years of what I thought - at the start of all this – would be research that could be used to help treat patients with amnesia, alzheimers, dementia! Not some insane search to find these- these 'Pieces of Eden'!" Lucy hissed, letting out some of her pent-up frustration. "So forgive me for wanting to continue something that takes my mind off of it." She huffed as she returned to monitoring Desmond's progress. She hoped that Vidic would take a hint and stay quiet for the rest of the session.
"So chatting up the bartender is what relaxes you?" Vidic asked after several minutes of silence.
Her head snapped up, "What?"
"When our agents located and observed Mr. Miles, they were quiet shocked to see you… 'chatting him up'. Or at least, that's what I heard."
"Well, you go to the same bar for a good five years, you're bound to start having conversations the person who serves the drinks. Along with the other patrons." She let out an exasperated sigh. "I don't ask you about the places you go to relax or the things you do after work." She paused for a moment, "What's this all about exactly ?"
"I'm just wondering if you knew about Mr. Miles previous association."
"To be honest, I'm shocked." Lucy lied cleanly.
"Never expected anything at all?"
She shook her head, keeping her eyes on Desmond's progress. "No. He's always seemed to be pretty average joe." She paused for a moment before letting out a tiny giggle. "Though he would always chat up the Rainbow Squad when they were in."
"Rainbow… Squad?"
"The gays. Just as their nick-names suggest, they are a colourful bunch. They always have great stories to tell. Desmond would always make sure they had the best service and drinks they could get. I think he did it mostly for tips, but you never know." Lucy explained, effectively shutting Vidic up for the rest of the session. Lucy could help but let out a small, triumphant smile.
Lucy's and the old man's voice were slightly distant at first, but they grew clearer and louder with each moment. Damn, this was one huge mind-fuck, more so then he had expected. Desmond was tempted to check his stomach to make sure that there wasn't a scar where Al Mualim had stabbed Altaïr. But he knew there would be nothing but his own collection of scars; the only scar he and Altaïr would ever have in common was the one on the lip.
"…him out. He's been in there way too long." Lucy stated. Desmond gladly took her offered hand for support as he slowly sat up. He hoped neither of them were blowing each other's cover. While he could probably afford to be discovered as an active and working member of the Brotherhood, Lucy couldn't. There wasn't a single doubt in his mind that the Templars would kill her if they found out.
"What's another hour or two?" Vidic asked angrily.
I would prefer not to go insane or develop schizophrenia. Though there's probably not much of difference there with this, is there?
"Why don't we discuss this in the conference room? Give Desmond a minute to stretch his legs." Neither Desmond nor Lucy gave Vidic much of a chance to argue. Lucy headed to the conference room while Desmond slowly stood up and started to walk around. It was a prime opportunity to assess his surroundings. Cameras were everywhere even in the bathroom, a fact which disturbed Desmond to no end. Anything that could potentially could be used as a weapon or be used to cause himself harm was blunted or gone. And furniture light enough to carry, but heavy enough to do some form of damage was gone or bolted down. All the windows, with their impressive view, were more plastic than glass and seemed to be equipped with multiple sensors. There was no doubt that there were sensors in and around the doors as well. Probably bugs all over the place too. He would have to see if Rebecca could do a subtle hacking of Abstergo's security system, or least give the system lag or default. He and Lucy were going to need all the help they could get when it was time for their escape. Desmond looked up as Lucy and Vidic came back into the main room.
"We're done for today, Mr. Miles. I suggest you go to your room and get some rest." Vidic snapped, almost looking like a little kid ready to throw a tantrum over some candy or toy. The old man practically stormed out of the room, leaving Desmond and Lucy alone.
"I'm sorry. I didn't think you were being targeted." Lucy said softly.
He gave her a reassuring smile, "Don't worry about it. You didn't know. Just as you didn't know I had had ties with the Assassins." He could have let out a sigh of relief when Lucy took the hint and brought up the topic of his leaving the Farm. Hopefully whoever was watching those cameras and listening in would continue to buy into their cover. It took a bit of effort though to act like an ignorant sixteen year-old angry at his parents again. He had gotten over those feelings ages ago, but… that was a story for another time, another day. At least it seemed that she was actually interested in hearing about it.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to drudge up the past." Lucy said quietly.
"It's alright." Desmond gave her another smile.
"You know, you're still expected to make my drinks."
He chuckled, "Anything for my best customer. You'll have to go out and buy the stuff for them though. I'm pretty sure our friends here don't have decent vodka." He laughed as Lucy swore.
"I knew it."
"So a quick question before I turn in." She quirked an eyebrow, "How did they find me? I mean, I haven't been anywhere near another assassin since I was sixteen." Lucy smiled at him, sinking into a hip. He knew that she didn't buy the lie. He was mostly doing it to save her the trouble of going through possibly vague files.
"Well, I'm sure you haven't used your real name for some time, 'Nathan'." She gave him a mock glare.
"Nope. Not before today." He leaned against the Animus, watching as she thought of all the possible ways he could have gotten caught.
"Any credit cards?"
"Cash only." He was having a hard time keeping a playful tone out of his voice and he could tell Lucy was having the same problem as him. Come on Lucy… I've told you my weakness before.
"Telephone?"
"If you don't count work, there's no one to call."
"Hm…" Desmond smirked as Lucy's eyes lit up, probably remembering their conversation months ago over modes of transportation. "Driver's license?"
"Motorcycle. Always a guilty pleasure of mine."
"There's your answer. Photo and fingerprint." She poked him in the chest, frowning slightly.
"But this is a drug company. What does Abstergo have to do with the DMV?" She knew what he was really asking. 'How powerful are the Templars now?' She started to look around nervously.
"Desmond, these guys are everywhere. They –" Both of them jump slightly. He could have sworn he heard something shuffle or fall just outside one of the doors. And he remembered the possibility that there were bugs throughout the room. "I-I'm sorry. I really can't talk about it. I'll see you tomorrow. Get some rest."
"See ya." He watched her leave before nodding to himself. Time to see if I'm missing anything. Desmond walked towards the large windows overlooking the city. Resting his head against the cool plexiglas, he closed his eyes and then slowly opened them. He turned back to the room, everything in Eagle vision now. He frowned slightly at the numerous symbols, letters, numbers, and drawings all over the room. All them undoubtedly written in blood. No wonder Lucy had been in such a state of distress when she told him about Clay's death. He made his way to the small bedroom, not sure if it was a bad thing that he wasn't surprised that the drawings and writings continued on into the bedroom. He swore under his breath as the door shut behind him; no doubt that it locked as well. He closed his eyes, rubbing and pinching the bridge of his nose. This was going to be quite a challenge. Not only did he have to go through his ancestor's memories (something he really felt he didn't have the right to do), but he had to find a way to keep Shaun and Rebecca in the loop, insure that his and Lucy's status as Assassins was kept under wraps, and plan an escape. And then he was going to have to figure out if any or all of Clay's writings and drawings were worth the risk of documenting or not. Desmond sighed as he flopped back onto the bed, making his Eagle Vision fade away so he could try and get some sleep. Though he knew it might be hard to with the knowledge that his room was painted in blood (even if all the blood was all covered with a fresh coat of paint) and that there were cameras essentially watching his every move.
"God, I hate my life some days."