Captain: I totally meant to get this up a few days ago and then...forgot. My bad. My family and I have been well. None of us have gotten sick and I am the only one to have lost their job, so we're doing alright. The governor is talking about lifting stay at home orders so I *might* get to work again soon. Fingers crossed, cause I am broke.

My laptop keyboard decided to die right when this started too so that's been fun. A lot of this was typed with the touchscreen keyboard, so please forgive mistakes I missed! When the stimulus check got to me, I used it to buy a new laptop (cause I'll need it for graduate school anyway) and it came yesterday and...dud battery. It's a lemon and I gotta send it back or in for warranty-covered repairs so that's super. But in better news I got a garden going! I live on acreage so it's a big one, like full half acre. I have so much stuff growing, it's fantastic. I'm also trying out painting and I'm having so much fun with it. Animals only, cause I can't draw people or landscapes to save my life, haha.

While my muse is flickering back towards an old project, I do have lots of things planned to come here at the end of the game that I've been excited for since I started this fic. And for those of you curious/asking, *yes*, Firewall will continue beyond the game and go through the events of The Secret Crusade, as well as other non-canon events. We are far from over!

Also Firewall got more fanart! My beautiful bestie TMWolf did this ( deviantart com t-m-wolf/art/Dangerous-Love-834151616) lovely number and I love her for it. Thanks, love!

Now to answer the truly burning question of the day. Will Altair help our Damsel in Distress? Or will his loyalties to the Brotherhood win out? Find out now! Enjoy :)


Emma blinked into the dawn light, feeling more weary than when she'd gone to sleep. Dragging a hand over her face, she stiffly rolled out of bed, working the kinks from her joints. A bowl of breakfast gruel was on her desk, next to a carefully folded lump of white silk. She frowned, wondering how long it had been there. Stepping towards it, she found the food still warm. Her stomach twisted at the idea of eating but she forced it down anyway.

Altair hadn't said no, after all. She'd just have to hold onto that for now and not focus on what ifs.

The white silk looked to be the same cut as the dress she was still wearing from yesterday. Cocking her head, she reached for it cautiously, wondering why the fabric looked too...bulky. There was something under it.

No, she mused, there was something in it, carefully wrapped in white to prevent being seen.

Her spirits swelled dramatically at finding her black tank top and uniform pants, cleaned and snuck back to her in the guise of another dress. She didn't know how she could, but she promised herself to repay this kindness to Ishana someday, somehow.

Changing into the new garment, she carefully hid her own clothing in her bag. The red dress tossed carelessly on the bed when a knock sounded at her door. Making sure the bag was out of direct line of sight, she checked who was calling for her with baited breath.

And promptly released it in disappointment at finding one of yesterday's ladies at her door.

A lady in red.

Of course someone else would wear red the day she was given bloody white.

The woman eyed her in annoyance before turning on her heel with a sniff. "Come. Tea is served."

They seemed to have it twice a day, but given that Ishana had shown her which combinations gave her the most caffeine, she didn't mind.

Emma had to suck her lips between her teeth to hold back her amusement at finding several of the younger women in reds almost as sharp as hers had been. Evidently they thought she knew something they didn't about their prize's preferences. More than a few cast a dirty look her way at going with a different color.

Her amusement rapidly turned to a mental curse as she realized once again she would be standing out like a sore thumb. Yesterday the white would have blended with the yellows and creams. Now they were all in vibrant, dark colors. Running her hand through her tangled hair she hadn't bothered to brush, she noted a few had their hair down as well.

Well at least in that she wasn't totally alone anymore.

The day passed as much as it had the one before with them. After tea the ladies gossiped for some time while strolling not quite aimlessly around the castle and grounds, handfuls coming and going when it came time for them to fulfill their castle duties. A tangible excitement rippled through them when they actually managed to glimpse Altair walking away from the training ring. He spared none of them a single glance. It was as if they didn't exist. Despite this, the ladies were not deterred in their goal to snag him for themselves, or sabotage their friends.

Little wonder it was the whores who actually appeared to be the happiest here.

She tried not to read anything into the fact that he ignored her as much as the rest, tried to reason it out in a way that would keep the hope alive. He was still deciding. He wanted to be seen ignoring her so that no one would suspect him of helping. He wanted Abbas to think he didn't care so that he might leave her alone.

He'd promised to see her before he left. He wouldn't be able to claim he'd seen her if he never looked up in the courtyard.

The hours dragged by slowly. The ladies did not relent in their keeping her with them, almost tighter than the day before. She wondered if she would have to do like last night, wait until everyone had gone to bed before slipping out to look for him. But then, she might not get as lucky with finding him and she could just be unlucky enough to run into Abbas again. No, she would be better off to let him find her this time, no matter how much sitting and waiting made her itch. Knowing that all she could do was wait made time tick by like New York traffic in rush hour. It was a struggle to keep her leg from bouncing in anticipation.

Finally, finally, a few of the ladies gave petite little yawns and excused themselves to bed. Emma was quick to follow their example, forcing an even smile as she was escorted back towards her room.

The moment the door was shut, she released a heavy sigh of relief. Bloody finally. Clenching the white silk in her hands, she pondered changing into her own clothes. It wouldn't do if anyone but Altair came to her room next, but she wanted to be ready if he did come for her with a plan of escape.

Hopefully if he did have a plan it was something he could enact that night. She didn't know if her sanity could take waiting days more.

Deciding to give herself something to do, she stripped off the white dress and put on her own clothes, sighing in the familiar feel of cotton. Gods did she wish to have her own wardrobe back. She missed jeans. She missed the boxer shorts she always wore to bed and the sweatpants she lived in on her days off. She missed oversized sweatshirts and the little black dress that worked so well in bars on Friday nights.

With a huff, she balled up the white silk and tossed it over with the red. Whoever decided to romanticize time travel in all those smut books Cat liked to pretend she didn't read was an idiot. Time travel sucked.

The ratty brown robe she'd come in with had eventually been returned as well, and now sat bundled on top of her pack, ready to cover her modern clothes in a hurry. At least no one had attempted to make off with her boots.

Dropping back onto the bed with an impatient sigh, she waited for the castle to go quiet and everyone to drift off to sleep. Then she waited some more.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

A cold hand clamping over her mouth ripped her from the sleep she hadn't meant to fall into. With a muffled screech she threw a closed fist at whoever had snuck into her room. Her swing missed the face but struck a clothed shoulder, eliciting a grunt but not forcing the man to let go.

"Emma." She barely heard him as she tried scrambling back and out of the hold, only freezing when it clicked just who was in her room. Altair.

Blowing out a breath as he released her, she sat up and dragged a shaking hand through her hair, her heart pounding. "Jesus, was it entirely necessary to scare the shit out of me?"

Despite her eyes being adjusted to the dark, it was difficult to make out anything; she could only dimly recognize his form squatting next to her bed. Even so, she could practically feel his brows raise. "I could hardly knock on your door."

Alright, point to the smartass on that one.

"Why are you here so late?" When he'd said he'd talk to her again, she imagined maybe late like last time or just before dawn, not now when her body was saying it had to be close to three am.

He seemed to hesitate a moment, as if he wasn't quite sure of that himself. "You asked me to take you away from here. Is that still what you wish?"

"Yes." Her voice wavered as her heart jumped to her throat. Did he really mean it?

"Are you ready to leave now?"

He was serious, he was helping her escape, he was getting her out of here. Her eyes burned in ecstatic relief as she shifted to swing her legs over the side of the bed. "Yes."

He stood, backing towards her door. "Put on the brown robe. Wait three minutes then head towards the garden."

Then he was gone, slipping out the door into the equally dark hallway, closing it silently behind him. Emma wasted no time. Throwing on the brown robe over her clothes, she laced up her boots and retrieved her bag.

White silk softly stood out in the darkness, the dress lying crumbled where she'd tossed it over the red earlier. After a brief hesitation, she shoved both dresses into the bag. There was no telling what the future might hold, but at least she could be somewhat prepared for playing a lady if she had to.

Slinging the straps over her shoulders, Emma breathed a sigh of relief. She was getting out of here.

Patience was never her strong suit and waiting the remaining two minutes felt impossible. She wanted to pace, fought herself to stand still. Double and triple checking that the only thing she was leaving behind was the blue robes, she counted down under her breath the last few seconds before swinging the door open and stepping into the hall. She paused, holding her breath as she waited for someone to say something, to raise an alarm. There was no sound. Narrowing her eyes, her enhanced Sense could see nothing in the dark.

Heading towards the hidden garden where she'd spent her only real time outside, she chewed her lip wondering if perhaps he had meant the other garden, where the women loitered when they were on duty. Blowing out a breath, she kept on the way she was going. If he wasn't there within a few minutes of arriving, well, then she might head to the other. But the other was more likely to have witnesses even at this late hour. Damn it all, why couldn't he have been specific?

Reaching the garden without coming across anyone, Emma paused under the door, keeping just out of the brilliant moonlight. It was almost blinding after the utter darkness of the inner castle. The stone and vibrantly colored flowers washed out in a pale glow. It felt too exposed to step out into it, too open.

A hand wrapping around hers brought a rough swear to her lips. Biting it sharply off as her eyes caught a scarred lip, she hoped he could feel the annoyed glare she shot him. It was as if the only way he knew to get anyone's attention was to give them a heart attack.

"This way." He led her around to the tall brush that lined the outer edge of the garden. Outside the hedges was a stone wall four feet tall and on the other side a sheer drop to the river six stories below. Emma had never attempted to squeeze in the minuscule space between bushes and wall. Would have been pointless and she wasn't the biggest fan of the height.

In the far corner the brush was the thickest, but Altair weaved easily between the branches, pulling her along behind him. Barely discernible in the shadows was a break in the wall. A gap between stone and castle, ragged as if it had been struck by some sort of siege weapon. Impossible given the surrounding cliffs. Altair stepped through it and out into thin air.

Only he didn't fall and drag her down with him. Moonlight and shadows obscured much, but there was some kind of path running from the gap around the outer castle wall. Stepping out onto it, she felt more than saw the lack of anything on the other side of the path. She decided she was infinitely thankful to be doing this escape at night, where she couldn't see what was-or wasn't-there.

It was an unnerving distance they traveled on the uneven path, but Altair's hand on hers kept her moving too quickly to be able to think much beyond getting one foot in front of the other. She figured it would eventually lead down into the village. A nice little bypass of the castle.

It did not.

Where stone met cliffside in a solid wall, the path jogged away from the castle and cut through the rock. Hardly any less narrow as she stepped onto it, but now surrounded by sharp rock that towered overhead. Having a ravine on one side no longer seemed so sketchy. They were completely cast in shadow on this part of the path and she had to rely heavily on the pull of her hand to not smack into anything. She was hardly a good judge of direction, especially in this place at night, but it didn't feel like they were headed for the village. If she had to hazard a guess, she would say they were going away from it.

"I thought you said there was only one way into Masyaf?" She hissed, mindful of the silence that seemed to stiffen at being broken.

Altair's pace was unaffected. "I lied."

She huffed but let the quiet fall back over them. It was hard to tell for certain if there were truly diverging paths, brief moments where the air seemed to lighten on one side before closing in again. If it was a maze, she prayed his confidence was not misplaced.

The rock walls began to diminish in size and closeness until even a horse could pass comfortably. Strips of moonlight began to reach them, revealing the sharp tightness of Altair's shoulders. His pace began to vary as he slowed to listen and look around.

Could there be enemies out here? Or assassins on guard duty?

Emma wasn't sure which would actually be worse to come across.

It had to be at least an hour since she'd left her room when he finally came to a stop. There was nothing special about this spot that she could make out. Only rock and moonlight dappling the path as it continued on.

Metal scraped against leather with a 'snick' , though she couldn't tell for certain which weapon he'd drawn as he turned to face her.

Blinking in the darkness, Emma's fingers wrapped automatically around the worn leather and cold steel Altair pressed into her palm. A sliver of moonlight glinted almost merrily off of the deadly length of his dagger.

"I can't use this." She whispered harshly, hating the waver that gave away her nerves. Pocket knives she could use; the four-inch blade of her tactical knife was proficient enough in a pinch, but this thing was over a foot of razor sharp steel. The weight was heavy and awkward in her grip. If she actually had to use this thing to fight, she was going to lose.

"I hope you do not have to." Altair responded, making no move to take it back. "But I must be seen leaving if we do not want the hunt for you to surpass us to Jerusalem. Follow this path, stay in the shadows as much as you can. When you reach the main road, keep going."

Her heart attempted to pound its way out from her ribcage at the idea of sneaking out of this place in the dark on her own. What or who might she run into on it? Reaching the road would hardly be any safer, given the utter lack of anything being done about the raiders. "What about you?"

He did need to be seen when he left, of course, otherwise he would be the prime suspect for facilitating her escape. If he was seen leaving alone, they might buy it to be coincidence for a time, at least long enough to get to Jerusalem. Otherwise those damn pigeons would have the word out and they'd be hunted down before they could get anywhere near the city.

Just because it made the most sense didn't mean she had to like it.

"I will have to wait for dawn before I can leave from the main gate and get a horse. I will find you as soon as I can." While the hood cast his entire face in shadow, the grimace was clear in his voice. He didn't like the plan any more than she did, but it was the only way.

"Wait, the raiders. He's done nothing about them." She didn't know if he'd run into them on his way back in or if he figured they were gone. She wasn't even sure if it would change his plans, if it could change his plans. But the thought of wandering alone on the very road she'd seen them on made her gut twist painfully.

"I know." Voice grim, his hand found her empty one and gave her what was probably supposed to be a reassuring squeeze. "Stay off the road itself. Good luck."

He hesitated for a moment, as if considering saying something else. Whatever it was, he settled for one last squeeze of her hand before releasing her and disappearing back towards the castle.

Emma took a shaky breath, her pack feeling as if it had suddenly gained a hundred pounds. The dagger in her hand felt even heavier and her palms sweat as she tried to find a comfortable grip.

Follow the path, stick to the shadows. Easy enough, given the rocky walls that would prevent her from straying in the dark and the lack of diverging paths the last ten minutes. Except the very protection of the rock would spell disaster if an assassin was patrolling this path. Altair could be delayed and questioned come morning, but there was nothing there that would link him to her escape. If she was caught, his blade in her hands would damn them both. Which meant she better get her ass moving if she wanted to keep that from happening.

Heart in her throat, Emma followed the path ahead. It was hardly a silent night, filled with the buzz and creeks of night bugs, the scrape of small animals over the rocks. Only now that she was alone it was on stereo. Her footsteps rang like drums, loudly announcing her presence to whoever could be listening.

"Get it together." She growled at herself, pausing to roll her shoulders and take a deep breath. The fastest way to get caught was to walk like she expected to get caught. Walk like she belonged and it was less likely there'd be questions. This was an undercover op. While the goal was to not get spotted, she just needed to play a role if she was.

Squaring herself, Emma started forward again, her steps more confident. A career in law enforcement had taught her to be quick on her feet. She could handle running across a single sentry.

So long as she didn't run into a horde of Mongols.

Fuck. Now her mind was off down that track.

Night crept by slowly as she put ground between her and the castle. Distance was impossible to judge and the moon dipped below the horizon just before dawn. A small consolation, it being summer. She didn't have to stumble blindly for long before her eyes started to pick up discernible shadows.

Just in time too, for she had reached the end of the trail. The rocky walls dropped and faded into almost nothing, the path shrinking until it looked like nothing more than a game trail. Twisting almost aimlessly, it came to a sudden stop at a jumble of rocks and desert shrubs. The road stood boldly on the other side, a scant ten yards away.

Emma recognized nothing.

Gripping the dagger tightly in her cramping fist, she turned and started down alongside the road. The sun had always come up on her right on their way in, so it stood to reason she should now put it on her left.

Gods she hoped there was only one damn road around here.

Along the road there was a lack of adequate brush to walk along that would keep her hidden from view. It was open in all directions, a few spots of cover that would only be useful in hiding from active passersby.

Twenty yards, she would walk twenty yards off the road. The sparse trees should keep her from being noticed by any in the distance. At least long enough for her to find real cover.

Not that she needed to as the sun finally broke the horizon. The road was quiet, empty save for a handful of deer-like creatures that scattered the moment they caught her movement. Well that answered what the lions ate.

Glancing back to check the road towards Masyaf, a flash of movement froze her in her tracks. Narrowing her eyes, she tried focusing specifically on the rider, hoping her Sense could stretch that far.

The world faded out, a small blob of color almost too faint to make out. The horse trotted closer, the dim color strengthening around the edges to a pinkish red.

Crouching amid the rocks, Emma quickly worked her way around towards a large cluster of woody brush, weaving a path that kept the most obstructions between her and the rider. She couldn't tell for sure if he'd seen her or not and she was forced to let the Vision drop as she lost sight of him behind the wall of dried vegetation. Breathing slow, she counted each exhale until she reached ten. Daring to peek out, she released a relieved sigh at seeing the rider's back disappear down the road.

Cursing the shaking of her hands, she stayed there for several minutes before checking and rechecking the road. It was clear and she needed to keep moving.

The sun climbed higher, the heat beginning to bake her inside the robe. It itched terribly against her sweaty skin, but she refused to take it off. The brown blended in too well with the surrounding rock to give up its camouflage and she had learned from the trek in just how much worse direct sun exposure could be. Tugging the hood up, she resolved to keep her feet moving for at least another hour before taking a break.

Maybe Altair had been detained and questioned. Maybe they already knew of her escape and figured out his hand in it. Maybe he wasn't coming. Maybe she was on her own with a dagger she couldn't use and a vague sense of direction. Or maybe that was him now, riding up on a white horse.

She called up the Sense again.

Red, damn it.

Again she found a cluster of branches and rock to hide behind and again he passed without incident.

Twice more, riders coming from behind were not who she was looking for and she began to worry that somehow Al Mualim really had found out. Would he torture his best assassin the way he had tortured her?

It was late morning when she paused to rest, dragging a reluctant gulp from her waterskin. The pitcher in her room had not held enough to fill it completely. She couldn't risk running out but she couldn't go another step without a drink. The desert was so not her climate. She missed cloudy days. She missed rain and a high in the mid 60's.

Taking a long look the way she had come, she squinted as another rider appeared on the horizon. White on black, it was definitely an assassin like the four before.

Might as well check.

A relieved smile pulled at her lips as the rider flared gold. Altair had made it out of the city. Her white knight on a dark horse.

Sealing the waterskin back in her bag, she hefted it to her shoulders and walked straight to the road. He was closing the distance fast, the horse working an easy trot that had been the favored gait of the morning.

Her boots hit the beaten trail as the horse breached thirty yards, snorting at her appearance in his path. Altair's shoulders stiffened, failing to relax even as he pulled the animal to a halt alongside her.

"That was careless." He intoned as he dismounted. She blinked as he actually stumbled back a step before approaching her sharply.

"I knew it was you." The Sense faded away and she raised a brow as he swept his hood back and took her chin in his hand, tilting her head up to look at him directly. Blue on amber, his brows pinched as he stared at her as if searching for something. Searching for something he knew was there but couldn't find.

"How?" He didn't release her chin, didn't back out of her space. It was strange behavior she hadn't expected from him. She'd never seen him drop the hood outside of the castle or a bureau either. It was certainly the first time she'd clearly seen his face in the sun.

He was a handsome devil, that was for sure.

She shrugged lightly, "I just...did."

His lips pursed as his frown deepened. What the hell was he looking for?

"Just as you knew those guards outside of Jerusalem were from your time. Just as you knew it was me in the dark of Masyaf." He was probing, expecting an explanation.

"I do make it a point to know things you know." She tried with a humorless chuckle, feeling a flash of embarrassment that he'd been aware of her watching him go through his exercises that night. Usually it didn't take much to pass off the Sense as luck or instinct. She hadn't expected him to remember the guards, hadn't realized that he'd been paying that close attention. What would he be suspecting? She supposed being from the future made him question if it had something to do with that, some skill or tool she had yet to share with him.

"Emma." His voice dropped a pitch. Deeper but not harsher.

She chewed her lower lip for a moment. "It's not something from the future. I can't give it to you."

His brow quirked up and for the briefest moment she swore amusement flashed behind his gaze. "I do not need you to give it to me. I need you to tell me how you knew."

She didn't want to. No one but her family knew. Not even Eliot was aware of her extra Sense. It was a closely guarded secret that made her family good at their jobs, but to reveal it...well that would have been a one way ticket to the loony bin. But Altair was not releasing her chin, even when she tried to step back and put space between them; he simply stepped forward and stayed right with her.

"It's a…..sixth sense I guess." She waved a hand as if she didn't really know what it was. Not that she did, not really. It always just...was, even if it had somehow improved dramatically in the last couple days. "Look, can we just go with a gut feeling and leave it at that?"

"No." There was something indescribable in his expression. She couldn't tell what he was thinking. "Use it."

"What?" She blinked, brows pinching together as she noticed his eyes flashing a little brighter than normal.

"Your sixth sense, use it on me." He ordered.

Well, there couldn't be any harm in it, it wasn't like he would see anything. Granted she'd never used it on someone this close before so she hoped it wouldn't blind her. Swallowing, she thought strictly about how he was no longer her target. She had found him, the search was over.

Hopefully he wouldn't blind her like the damn sun at least.

Focusing, the world faded away until the only color was the blue radiating from the man in front of her. He jerked back in surprise, biting out quickly, "What color am I?"

"Blue." She answered before jolting at realizing she'd given that without really thinking about it. More importantly, why the bloody hell did he ask?

Shaking her head, she let the Sense fade away, confused as much by this turn of events as by the surprise on his face.

Well it was out now, anyway, she couldn't get any crazier in his eyes. "Blue is for allies, gold for targets, which is how I recognized it was you coming down the road. Red for enemies like the men in Jerusalem."

He cut her off smoothly, the shock clearly coloring his tone. "White for informants, while the rest of the world is in shades of grey."

Her jaw dropped as she stared at him. What? How? No one knew about her Sense here! She'd not said a word to Malik! Certainly not to him! "H-How do you...that's….what?"

There was a shift in how he held himself as he looked her over, as if he were seeing her for the first time.

His hand finally released her to rub across his face. "I never imagined you would have Assassin blood."

Her head felt like it was spinning as she stepped back again, leaning roughly against the rocks. "What? It's the Cop Sense, at least that's what we called it."

"We?" He raised his brows in question. The horse snorted in impatience. They ignored him.

Emma rubbed a hand over her eyes, dropping it with a sigh. Well, at least he didn't think she was crazy, though now she was beginning to suspect she could be. How could he know what her Vision was like? "My dad and my brother have it too. Well, a variation of it. Neither of them have the vision part, but my dad can sense a lie from a mile away and Matt can feel when someone is about to attack him."

Her own might give her a brief warning of something right before it happened, but Matt? He could walk into a village in enemy territory and identify every single person who intended him harm. He didn't need vision to show him red enemies, he just knew they were there and where. Didn't have to activate it either, it was just always on, like her father's.

Altair tipped his head back towards the way he had come, as if listening. After a pause, he pulled his hood up and swung back onto the horse, offering a hand down to pull her up behind him. "We should get moving."

Jolting from the sudden change in conversation, she hesitated briefly before nodding, passing him back his dagger before taking his proffered help. Mounting a horse was still by no means a natural motion for her, but at least she was somewhat used to it now and steadied herself quickly.

They started off at a steady walk, in no real hurry but intending to get beyond the limits of a quick search.

Emma thought the topic was dropped and to be forgotten about it, which did little to settle her mind given she still had no idea how the hell he knew about it. And why did he call it having Assassin blood? Did that mean they all had it?

"We call it the Eagle Sense." He said after a time. She tipped her head as he turned partially to look at her. "It can take many forms. I have never met two who had it in the same fashion."

"Does...that is...do all of the Assassins have it?" She supposed it explained a few things, but it would make overthrowing the crazed master even harder.

"No. Many of us do, but not all." She breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully then, Al Mualim was one of those without it. "And none of the others have the Vision."

He was twisted far enough to meet her gaze and she leaned back in surprise as she registered what he had to mean by that. "You have it?"

He nodded once.

Emma looked him over, really looked at him. Her father had been as clueless about the origins of their abilities as he said his own father had been. There were stories of variations of the Sense passed down the line, but nothing as to where it came from or why their family. Did this mean….was Altair an ancestor?

Wouldn't that be a mind-fuck.

No, many of the assassins had it, apparently. It could be any of them, or none. Could it be more common in this era? An ability that had faded out over the centuries? Then again, it wasn't as if anyone in her time would talk about having it. Her whole department could have it and she'd be none the wiser.

Of all the differences in time and space, she never expected to share this with Altair. And not just the Sense itself, but the manifestation of it.

Eagle Vision, they both had it and in a twisted way, they both used it the same.

Emma wasn't one to believe in such things, but she couldn't help imagining the fickle hands of Fate meddling here.


Present Day

"Please, just be patient, Mr. Harp. We are doing all we can, and I assure you, as soon as we know something, I will personally inform you. There is no reason to waste your time or energy digging into useless data." William Miles was playing the helpful diplomat as he sat across from David in a private corner of a public bar. An Assassin owned and controlled bar, but open to public customers.

He had to give it to the clandestine group, they caught on to his digging quickly. Faster than he'd hoped actually, as he'd been unable to get to the stuff about his daughter before his bug was destroyed. What he had gleaned was probably considered important to both sides of the secret war, but it wasn't much use to him outside of leverage. David rather hoped it wouldn't come to that.

"If you're done lying to me now, Mr. Miles, I would have the truth. The less time I waste with your nonsense the better." David hardly blinked as he leisurely lifted his glass to his lips.

It was the first time he'd seen Miles truly shocked and unable to form words for a moment. "I assure you, Mr. Harp, I have not lied."

"Perhaps not at first, but you have toed the line with half truths and misdirections. Until now, that was a direct lie. Perhaps it was an oversight of mine to not inform you of this particular gift of mine, but I wanted to see if I could really trust you." David met the other man's eyes with a hard stare, leaning forward to further his point. "You cannot lie to me, I will sense it every time."

"Sense it how?" William raised a brow, but he leaned forward as well in unexpected interest.

That was hardly the point. "Call it a sixth sense."

Somehow, William thought this was good news and a genuine grin stretched over his features. "Your children wouldn't happen to have such extra senses, would they? Perhaps an innate ability to find people or know when trouble is approaching?"

David frowned. "We call it the Cop Sense, it's helped in all of our chosen careers."

"Which notably is generally some form of law enforcement."

"What of it?" David leaned back in his seat, utterly lost as to why the leader of the Assassins was suddenly more interested in sixth senses than the Harp men's digging into his business.

"We call it the Eagle Sense, or Vision, depending on which manifestation one gets." Miles placed a hand on a folder that had laid unopened since David had walked in. "What do you know of your family's history?"

David crossed his arms over his chest, resisting the urge to check the time. This was turning into a wasted trip. "I know every generation has been in law enforcement since its beginning in the United States."

Miles smirked as if he was privy to some major secret. All things considered, he probably was. "Further than that?"

The retired cop arched a brow. "European ancestry if that's what you're attempting to get at."

Miles reached into the folder and slid out a colored picture, passing it across the table. David glanced at it but saw nothing of any importance. It looked like a movie still of a blond man dressed as a pirate, standing on the deck of a ship.

"Are they auditioning for a sixth Pirates of the Caribbean movie?" He asked, sarcasm and irritation thick in his tone.

"One of my men happened to gather some...intriguing information Abstergo had managed to pull up from your daughter's blood work." David stiffened sharply, but William continued as if he hadn't noticed. "It indicates that this man is your ancestor."

"A pirate."

"An Assassin, gifted with Eagle Sense. I was not sure you had inherited that much from him, but it appears you have, and your children as well."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It means, Mr. Harp, that your daughter may yet survive. The Sense is, after all, the mark of an Assassin."

David barely resisted baring his teeth at the other man. "It is a mark of nothing. Killing for your own purposes is the mark of an assassin."

"And yet," Miles held out his hands to gesture around them, "you are here with the head of the Assassins and she is at the mercy of our Templar enemies. Whether you are born to this life or not, it draws those with the sense. Your ancestor did not join until he was your daughter's age. Sooner or later, it calls to all."


Captain: I literally just checked after doing a final proofread, there is talks of a 6th Pirates movie. Whaaaaaat. Cause they haven't milked that cash cow enough apparently X'D. Haha. Well here we are, the big reveal! Wooooo. Everyone knows about everyone else's Eagle Sense yaaay. And a not-cliffhanger ending for once. I'm so nice, I know ;) Next time on Firewall: A return to Jerusalem and words with an old friend!

I hope you all are doing okay in these hard times. Remember, we are not in the same boat. Some have lost jobs, some have lost loved ones, some have fallen sick themselves, some are burning the midnight oil to help who they can, and still others have been relatively unaffected. We are not all in the same boat, but we are all weathering the same storm. It takes nothing to be kind and compassionate. Look out for each other and we'll see this storm through. Well wishes and god speed to you all. 3