Intermission

Rebecca Crane

I looked down at the small box, wrapping paper all around the floor. Inside the box was a small glass swan. I picked it up in my hands; it was so delicate in my hands, and I tried not to break it. I looked up at his smiling face.

"Well, what do you think?" he asked smiling large showing all of his teeth.

"What…What is it?" I finally asked.

"It's a crane." Desmond said as his smile began to fade. "Like your name. Rebecca Crane."

Shaun snagged the glass bird from my hands. "Mate, that's a swan."

Desmond's smile turned into a frown, and he shook his head. "No…it's a crane."

He took the figurine from Shaun and Lucy leaned in to examine it. "Desmond, that's definitely a swan." She told him.

Desmond put his head down and looked defeated while everyone around him laughed. "I love it." I said over their laughs and he looked up at me with sad eyes. "I love it, Desmond. Thank you."

His lips curved up the side of his face and he smiled, "Happy Birthday, Rebecca."

I hold the small figurine in my hand, so delicately, trying not to break it. A tear falls from my eyes and onto the neck of the small glass crane. My hands shake and I close my grip over the figurine. I look up and see Shaun watching me with bloodshot eyes. I look away from him and out of the window of the Altair II. Gavin Banks comes over to us and hands us both some tea. I don't take mine, and he leaves it on the table next to me.

He hasn't spoken with us since William had him pick us up from the Temple. He probably figures we need our space. Some time, maybe. Time for what? No amount of time is going to fix the fact that Desmond is dead.

We have been on the Altair II for two months now, travelling around the world picking up Assassins in need. Gavin has allowed us to stay on the top deck to have privacy from the other, but the fact of the matter was, that everyone on this boat had someone taken away from them, and it wasn't fair that we mourned away from the others.

When William and Gavin spoke amongst themselves in the corner of the E-deck arguing over the future of the Creed, Gavin had begged William to reconsider leaving the Creed, but William refused to hear Gavin's pleas. Once we docked in Indonesia, William left the Altair II without saying a word to Shaun or myself.

It has been two weeks since William left the Altair II and all Gavin got from William was a text telling him that he was the new Mentor of the Assassins; a rise in rank that did not bring happiness to Gavin.

To keep my mind occupied, I have been updating the Altair II and their operating systems. Their firewalls are weak, and their technology is dated. I do the best I can with what I have. Shaun has been working with the Assassins that come on board, and gathers information with them, to map out the Templar raids with hopes to potentially catch a trend and prepare for the next assault against the Creed.

Shaun finally comes over to me and sits down next to me. He wraps his arms around me from behind and I begin sobbing in his embrace. "I am so sorry, Becks." He says woefully and I shake violently in his arms, sobbing as I hang onto the small glass figurine with all of my life. And all I can hear on this day is Desmond's voice wishing me a happy birthday.

Over six months pass on the Altair II and Shaun and I have proven ourselves worthy of being on deck. Everyone here is close and we are like a family. Shaun enjoys the life of a seafaring man, and often fantasizes about the Pirate's life. I am not a fan of the sea life, and often find myself getting sick with the constant rocking of the ship.

Shaun lays on his cot as I sit at the computer, still working on some breaches within our firewalls.

"Rebecca, must you clang on that keyboard so loudly?" Shaun complains as he pulls the cover over his head. "You know they make keyboards specifically designed not to be such a pain in the ass."

I let a smile escape my lips, "Now what would be the fun in that then?"

"No fun!" he yells underneath the covers. "Just peace. Peace and quiet!"

I laugh and turn away from Shaun. I return to my computer and go to install one of my firewalls when my entire screen goes black. "What the…" I say under my breath. A chat box pulls up on the center of my screen. And the blinking cursor invites me to type a message. I look for any webcams to ensure no one is able to watch me.

There is no exit button on the chat box and there is no way to get out of the program. I press the power button on my tower, but it doesn't shut down. I go to unplug the computer when the chat window begins typing.

"You promised to take me to Snowmass." The chat box writes and my heart drops.

"Shaun! Shaun! Get up!" I yell as I kick him to get out of bed.

"Uh? Rebecca! What the hell—"

"Shaun, get up and look!" I say pointing at the computer frantically.

Shaun gets out of his cot begrudgingly and wipes his eyes of sleep. He places his glasses on his face and squints at the computer. "What is this?" He finally asks.

"It's an encrypted chat!" I yell wildly. "I created one like this in College when I was bored one night. You can access any computer through their IP and take over their computer and put this chat on their screen. The chat is untraceable and the correspondence disappears once the chat is existed out by the initiator of the chat."

"So, who is sending this to you?" he asks. "What is Snowmass?"

I sit down and begin to clang on my keyboard wildly.

"You always hated the snow." I chat back. My heart racing as I wait for her to respond.

"But I like the cold. It's perfect for cuddling."

I smile wildly. "It's her!" I yell out. "I can't believe it's her!"

"Who?" Shaun exclaims.

"I can't believe it's really you." I respond to her.

"Abstergo Entertainment. Montreal. 45.558°N 73.552°W."

"She did it. She got in." I exhale and the chat ends, disappearing and my screen goes back to normal.

"Rebecca, who was that? What is going on?"

"Bishop." I say.

I gather my things wildly in the morning. I did not get much sleep last night as all I could think about was Bishop and how she gave me this ridiculous info. I can't believe she was able to get this information without being caught. She has always had her way with these things, far better than I ever was. I always admired her for that.

I tell Gavin to take us to Montreal and he tells us we are three days out. Shaun watches me as I pack my things and is in awe of the entire situation.

"So, who is this 'Bishop' and how do you know we can trust her?" He says skeptically.

"She is a friend from College." I tell him and he returns saying that she is more than that.

Gavin enters the room as he roams the halls. "I am inclined to agree with Mr. Hastings." He says with his arms crossed. "Are you sure we can trust her? With whom does she affiliate with: Templars or Assassins?"

"Assassins through and through!" I say. "We met in college and found out that we both chose to join the Creed rather than being born into it. We got close and…" I stop trying not to tell them everything. "I promised her I would keep her identity a secret."

"That is not very productive for us." He says skeptically. "We cannot have a relationship that is one-sided. If she knows everything about us, it is only fair we know something about her."

I get hot at the notion and stop packing. "I trust Bishop with my life. She has been in my life for quite some time and she has told me intimate detail about herself. We have shared a lot together, and naturally I am going to protect that trust."

Gavin sighs, "I just want you to heed caution. The Templar's grasp has reached everyone. No one can be trusted, and we have spies all around us. This war has turned everyone against each other. I just hope you know her as well as you say."

I look over at Shaun and he sighs. "We've talked it over," he begins, "and we're going to find Desmond's body, or at the very least, find out what Abstergo plans to do to genetic info." Gavin gives a sad smile at our intentions in infiltrating Abstergo. "We owe this to William." Shaun says and Gavin gives us an understanding nod, supporting our intentions. He turns from us and leaves us with our thoughts.

On the eve of our landing in Montreal, I work on the computer with the final touches on the firewall for Gavin. I begin to log off of my computer when the chat opens up. I wait for her to message me; watching as the blinking cursor shines back at me. Finally, words begin to string across the page.

"Didn't know I had entered the poem that I scribbled? The one about my mother, and her endless needing overbearingness? I can't even remember now. It was something about death and about resurrection. And interestingly it also had a seemingly gleeful tone to it. After her death she gave little me this complex, and I have since felt a violent fear of death and ending."

I look at the text confusingly. I scramble for a piece of paper and frantically write down the paragraph. Bishop was not one for writing poetry, and often teased me for liking poetry. So, the chat makes no sense in the terms of its context. But I figure that it is some kind of code that she is trying to relay to me. I barely finish writing down the last of the text when the chat disappears.

I look down at the paper where I have scribbled her words. I try to make sense of it, but there is no sense to it. Bishop didn't write poetry, and though her mother did die, she died when Bishop was young and did not give her any kind of complex of death. In fact, Bishop was often fascinated with death, because she always wondered what life would be like after we were all dead.

I decide to table to message for now and focus on infiltrating Abstergo Entertainment and gather what information we can to assist the Assassins. I don't tell Shaun about the message until I can get my hands on it. I want to get a good look at the message and see if I can decipher it before I enlist his help. I know that he is going to hate me for not consulting him right away, but the message could say something about her past that she doesn't want anyone to know about.

Gavin assisted us with our roles in infiltrating Abstergo Entertainment. He provided us with aliases to go as we please within Abstergo. I naturally take the courier position and Shaun throws a fit when he has to be the lobby barista, but naturally, I look better in a jumpsuit than he does.

I approach Shaun as he stands, wiping his station with a wash cloth. "I'll have a number 5 please." I say loud enough for anyone listening to us.

"You got it ma'am." Shaun says, clanging some dishes together.

"Gavin reached out," I tell him now quietly. "He said he managed to get a man on the inside to assist us. The guy's name is John Standish, and he is in disguise as the I.T. guy.

"Any other information he was able to get us?" Shaun asks.

"No," I say quietly. "He's supposed to hack the servers and gather any information Abstergo might have on—" I cut myself off from saying it. We agreed we would not say his name while at Abstergo. "on the body."

Shaun nods, looking over my shoulder he says loudly, "There is your number 5 ma'am." He hands me the drink and I take it. Leaving for the mail room.

I enter the mail room and take a sip of the coffee. I retract at the taste of it, contorting my face is disgust. Shaun is the worst barista, and if Abstergo is going to learn our turn identities, it is going to be though his awful drinks.

"You'd think they'd get a better guy to make the drinks." A man approaches me in the mail room. He is tall, rugged looking with messy black hair, but most noticeably his two different eye colors.

"Ugh, yeah. Must be the new guy." I force a laugh.

The man steps closer to me, invading my personal bubble. He grunts a laugh at me and I suddenly feel extremely uncomfortable. "Ain't that the truth." He can see my discomfort and takes a step back from me. "Uh, I… It's John." He stumbles, "the name. It's John." I look at him with narrowed eyes and he says, "Ugh, sorry, Gavin didn't give me a code word." he scratches his head "Nothing is true, everything's—"

I quickly cover his mouth, shutting him up from saying anything more damning. "Are you crazy?" I yell in a hushed tone. "I get it. You're our guy. Geez have some discretion!" I look around the room, hoping no one else is in here.

"Sorry," he grumbles. "I am not used to this kind of stuff."

"What have you found out? About the body?" I ask him, trying to get information on Desmond.

"There is a video." He says, "Actually kind of sick, really. They are cutting the dude up like a high school Biology frog." I step away from him and exhale with a harsh gasp of air. "Sorry, I guess he was your friend or something." He says, realizing how tactless he is being. "They harvested him for his memories. They are using temp workers to play the memories, just plugging in the guy's DNA into the sequence."

"What are they looking for?" I ask him.

"Something called the Observatory." He says.

"Where is the body?"

The guy crinkles his face in disgust. "It's in pieces," he says harshly. "You ain't getting that shit back."

"Thanks Asshole." I say in a pressed tone.

He shrugs, "Sorry, Doll, but that's what I saw on that tape. Whatever your friend got into, it's some fucked up shit." He looks at me and sighs. "They are calling it 'Sample Seventeen'. The use of his DNA being watched by others."

"Oh," is all I can manage with the information given to me.

"We have another agent on the floor. Well they don't know it yet, but my charming demeanor will get this kid to gather the information we need, and hand it straight to you."

"How did Gavin manage that?" I say in awe.

"Not Gavin," he says, "Bishop."

My heart drops, "Wha—What did you say?"

"Your friend, Bishop." He says again, validating what I heard to be true. "She wants you to know that she has your back in this mission and will help you get what you desire the most. Whatever that means." I swallow hard, thinking about how Bishop is putting her ass on the line for me. "So, this is how it's gunna go." He continues, "Bishop is going to convince the kid that what they are doing is for the greater good, yadda, yadda, ya. Then, I am going to hack the system, get them what they need on their tablet and instruct them to you. You're going to take the data I give them and do whatever it is you need to do with it."

"What about Shaun?"

"That guy is going to need to learn how to make a better cup of joe, else he's getting us all caught and killed."

He starts to walk away from me, but I call out to him, "Wait, how will I know who the informant is?"

"They'll come to you. Just be ready."

A few weeks go by and Shaun and I wait in the lobby every day for the initiate to deliver the information that Standish takes from the Templar's database. The day starts off the same: Shaun and I argue about how terrible his coffee is. He claims that he is far too over qualified for this job. I begin to argue with him when I jump at the sound of Standish in my ear, telling me that the initiate is approaching.

I turn away from Shaun and see the initiate. God they are just a kid. So young. Bishop couldn't find someone more experienced? I cannot drag a kid into this war, it doesn't seem right. I instruct the kid to give me what they got, and they do so compliantly, too naïve to think otherwise. Standish must have this kid wrapped around his finger.

The kid gives me the information and I leave the building. I make my way to the safehouse and wait for Shaun to get off of his shift before opening what Standish gave me. I decide to try and decipher Bishop's code to me.

"Didn't know I had entered the poem that I scribbled? The one about my mother, and her endless needing overbearingness? I can't even remember now. It was something about death and about resurrection. And interestingly it also had a seemingly gleeful tone to it. After her death she gave little me this complex, and I have since felt a violent fear of death and ending."

I do the obvious code stuff, fist word of each sentence: Didn't The I It And After. I shake my head and cross the sentence out. First letter of each sentence. D-T-I-I-A-A. Dtiiaa? No. I cross that option out. First letter of each word? D-K-I—No! that's not it. "What the hell are you trying to tell me, Bishop?" I ask to myself.

I toss the piece of paper on my desk, away from me, unable to stare at it any longer. I look over at my computer and see the white Bishop chess piece that sits by my monitor. I hold up the piece and look at it with a smile. I remember the game like it was yesterday.

"Bishop takes Queen." She said with a victorious smile painting her face.

"Ah, shit." I said throwing my hands up in the air. I tried to get away from her, but her Bishop trapped my King with every move.

"Checkmate." She finally said and I dropped my face in my palms.

"You've got to be kidding me! This is the fourth game you have beat me with the damned Bishop!"

"That's because you're too obvious in your movements." She explained to me. "You are too focused on projecting the King, defending with the Queen and attacking with the Knight."

"So, is that how I am supposed to win?" I asked her.

"The King is obviously the target, but you rely too much on the Queen to make your moves, and the Knight to fight your battles. Sometimes, the ones you least suspect are the most dangerous." She said holding up the white bishop piece and handling it to me.

"The King is still my favorite piece." I said, taking the bishop in my hands.

"The King is the weakest piece!" she exclaimed with a scoff.

"Who taught you how to play chess?" I asked her with a laugh.

"My mother." She said in a sad tone. She never spoke too much of her mother, only told me that she died when she was 10.

"Well, you're kicking my ass so you clearly know something." She giggled at my remark, god I loved hearing her laugh.

She pulled the hair behind her ear and looked up at me with her beautiful emerald eyes. She bit her lips and smiled at me. I moved closer to her, and the smile left her lips. She looked down at me, down at my lips, then up at my eyes. I took the back of her head gently and brought it closer to me. I closed the gap between us and pressed my lips against hers. They were so soft, warm, and welcoming. I swept her up and she giggled with excitement. I placed her on the bed gently and she lied there waiting for me. I carefully shifted my weight on top of her and began kissing her wildly.

"Becks!" I snap out of my memories at the unwelcoming sound of Shaun. I look over at the clock that shines the digital 5:55pm time back at me.

"Shit, sorry, I was…" I to gather my things frantically when Shaun sees the paragraph.

"What is this?" He asks reading Bishop's code.

"Nothing!" I try to swipe the code from him, but he holds it away from me.

"Becks what is this?" he sees my failed attempts at trying to decipher the code. "Is this some kind of code?"

"Shaun, give it back to me!" I demand.

He looks down at me with hurt eyes. "Really Rebecca, I thought you trusted me."

"Shaun… I do, I really do!"

"But?" He asks angrily.

"But I promised Bishop that I would protect her."

"What about me Becks? What about this team?" Shaun says in a hurt tone.

"Shaun… I… I am sorry."

Shaun tosses the paper in my face and walks away from me. I exhale and throw my face into my hands feeling so lost and empty.

The following day, the initiate doesn't bring us anything and I figure I should check out what Standish gave me yesterday. Shaun is still mad at me for not telling him about Bishop's code, but he understands that it is something to keep on the backburner while we try to figure out what Standish gathered from the Templars.

I transfer over the file to my computer from the tablet and see that it is a video document. I open the video and Shaun leans in with me to see what we got. The image before us is a grainy one, in what looks like a tunnel or cave. A man in a hazmat suit adjusts the camera while people behind him set up temporary lighting. The man in the suit moves away from the camera once the picture is focused. Behind him is what looks like a body lying on the ground. A voice over is heard as the men search the body. "The subject was deceased and unattended. Time of death was placed around zero-hundred and seven minutes, with conditions favorable for DNA sample recovery."

"No!" I yell out and bury my head in Shaun's chest. I begin to feel hot tears fall down my face as the voice continues to talk about harvesting Desmond's body. "No, No, NO!" I yell, muffled in Shaun's shirt.

"It's ok," Shaun says, rubbing my head. "You don't have to see this, Becks." He pauses the video and I look to see a still image of them zipping Desmond into a body bag. I feel myself getting sick.

Shaun pulls my face, forcing me to look at him. "Hey, hey, hey." He says in a soothing tone. "It's ok, it's ok." His tone is calming, but I can see in his eyes that he is hurting just as much as I am.

"It's barbaric," I say with a sigh. "What they did to his body. It's… barbaric." I begin to sob and Shaun presses my face to his chest as he rubs my head.

"Hey, it's okay." He says in a sad tone. "We will find his body, and we will give him a beautiful ceremony."

I look at him with tear-filled eyes. "I miss him so much, Shaun." I say with a sob.

"I know, Becks… I know." He says in a chocking tone.

The next video the initiate gives to us is less shocking and I wonder if the first video was Standish's way of being cruel. The video is of Laetitia England railing Oliver Garneau to find the 'Observatory'.

"What is the Observatory? Why didn't Gavin debrief us on this if the Templars are so keen on finding it?" I ask Shaun and he returns with a shrug.

"Whatever it is, England is hellbent on locating it." Shaun says. I scratch my head and think about what it could possibly be. "Maybe Bishop will know." Shaun guesses, looking up at me with inquisitive eyes.

"I don't have any way of contacting her." I say looking away from him. "I don't know what IP address she is on, so I can't send the chat her way."

"Don't you have some sort of phone number?"

"Ha, are you kidding me? Bishop is not one for cell phones. She was always really paranoid about that kind of stuff. Her mom was the wacko 'Templar's are listening to our conversations' type." I explain.

"There has to be a way to get a hold of her on your terms." I shake my head. "If Bishop does not want to be found then she will not be found. She's mastered the art of no one finding her."

Shaun exhales in a pressed way. "We are going to have to figure out what the note says."

I shake my head, pulling out the crumpled piece of paper. "I don't get it," I say. "She hated poetry. She never wrote any poems, she there is no poem about her mother that she wrote and entered into a competition or whatever."

"Didn't know I had entered the poem that I scribbled? The one about my mother, and her endless needing overbearingness? I can't even remember now. It was something about death and about resurrection. And interestingly it also had a seemingly gleeful tone to it. After her death she gave little me this complex, and I have since felt a violent fear of death and ending."

"Well she says you didn't know that she entered the poem. Maybe there were things about her that even you don't know about?" Shaun suggests.

"No, it's not that. It's something else. It has to be."

We examine the note for hours, trying desperately to figure out what it could possibly mean. I eventually look at the clock and see that it is 5:05 am. "Holy shit," I say, "we stayed up all night looking at this damned thing."

"Come on," Shaun says, "Let's get some rest."

"Are you sure the camera is straight?" I ask him as he finagles with it.

"Must you always criticize?" He calls out.

"I just mean, if we are going to make a video to this initiate, asking them to join the Assassins, we gotta make it look like we are somewhat professional to the kid!"

After the death of Standish, we figured we would try to convince the initiate to join our cause. With the approval from Gavin Banks, we decided it best to make a video to the kid and tell them we were impressed with their hacking skill. Sending them a congratulatory video seemed to be the best way possible.

"The Assassins don't have the resources to pay you like the Templars do. But we'll make it worth your while." I say.

Shaun gives me a look that says I shouldn't have said that. I guess telling someone that we can't pay them or give them everything they want like the Templars can, is not the best way at recruiting someone.

Shaun cuts the video to an end and wishes the kid happy hacking, and we end the view. "Well there you have it." He says with a smile. "Hopefully we have convinced them of our agenda.

"Yeah," I say hopeful. I look over at the clock and see that it is 5:10pm. I bring my brows together in confusion.

"What is it, Becks?"

"Nothing," I shake my head. It's just… the number five has really been haunting me recently. I have been seeing it everywhere."

"Well it's not that bad of a number," He says, "In numerology, five is the representation of the human body: the four limbs and the head. There are also five books of the Torah, the five faces of Shiva, the five senses we carry…" he goes on, but I stop listening to him.

I frantically run over to my desk and grab the paper that holds Bishop's letter. "Five!" I yell over to Shaun. "It's every fifth word!"

"Didn't know I had entered the poem that I scribbled? The one about my mother, and her endless needing overbearingness? I can't even remember now. It was something about death and about resurrection. And interestingly it also had a seemingly gleeful tone to it. After her death she gave little me this complex, and I have since felt a violent fear of death and ending."

"Didn't entered scribbled mother overbearingness now death it seemingly after little I violent ending?" I frown as I read the text. "No…" I say defeated, "that's not it. I could have sworn that was it."

Shaun sighs. "It's okay, Becks. We will figure it out."

I stare at the sentence and think of Bishop. I smile at the thought of her. "She was always so hard to figure out." I say to Shaun. "We used to play chess all the time and she used to kill me with her bishop piece. She always played one with the white bishop."

"Wait a second, Becks!" Shaun says getting an idea. "The White Bishop starts as C1 and F1." I shrug not knowing where he is going with this. "Five and One!" he explains. "It's the first letter of every fifth word!"

I swallow hard and grab the paper. I begin to write down the first letter of every fifth word. My hands shake and when I am done, a sob catches in my throat. I look up at Shaun, hoping he sees the same thing that I am seeing and when I see tears fall down his face, I know that he was right and I finally know what Bishop wanted me to know.