"Come on out! I want to see!" Grant said.
Hanover wrinkled her nose at him. "Thom, you are way to excited about this."
He looked away, still smiling. "What? I think I did a really good job on this one. Can't the artist appreciate his own work?"
Okay, here I come!" Fitz called out from behind the door. She wore the corset and top of a Venetian gentlewoman, but with riding pants of the same design. Grant beamed.
"Please high-five me for this one." She did. Fitz couldn't help giggling.
"Grant, this is amazing! I feel like Cinderella, but with a totally awesome skill set and better shoes!" She gave herself a turn in the small mirror. Her hair was gathered in a snood and rolled about her face.
"You will definitely turn some heads with this," said Hanover. "Let's hope they're the right ones."
"I have a feeling it shouldn't be a problem." She cut an impressive figure, if she said so herself.
"Well, we're ready for you if you're done preening, pretty, pretty princess."
Fitz met Hanover's gaze in the mirror and nodded. Her demeanor immediately cooled. It was time to work. The three left for the work room, where the others were waiting. Upon entering, Burke stood up, taking in the sight
"Wow, this is good stuff," he laughed, opening his arms. "Come here and let me get a look at you." Fitz blushed and awkwardly turned for him. He turned to Grant. "Good work. It's period, but it works for a female assassin." Grant nodded, admiring his handiwork.
"I've been working on this for ages. Glad we finally get to field test it. Hold on a sec." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and lined her up. "Say cheese!" The picture appeared on the screen. Fitz' eyes were half closed, mouth open. Hanover wasn't smiling at all. Burke was, though. Yusef wasn't even in the shot.
"Close enough for government work!" Grant shrugged. Let's get the party started, shall we?"
They all went to their respective stations. Fitz jumped into the Animus, falling backward stiffly. "Corsets are hard to move in."
"This one will be harder, especially since its got a Kevlar lining. Fashionable enough for an Assassin, strong enough for a woman." He tried to toss his hair around like a shampoo commercial. Fitz laughed.
"Just shut up and get me hooked in. I can hardly breathe."
"That's the idea." He looked to Yusef. "Getting a reading?"
Yusef stooped over his laptop, shaking his head slightly. "One of your sensors is loose, looks like."
Fitz felt around. "This one?" She pressed one at her temple.
"That's it. She's online."
Grant walked around to lower the visor. "I'm not just saying this, because I built this, but you look amazing," he said quietly. She grabbed his hand and looked up at him through the vizor. He looked blue and distorted slightly.
"Thanks, Thom."
Burke gave the order to standby.
"Come back safe," Grant said, giving her hand a squeeze.
She smiled and closed her eyes. "Back in a flash."
"Welcome board Animus flight zero-zero-two. Destination: Florence, 1459," drawled Grant.
"Grant," Burke warned. Fitz opened her eyes a peek to see Grant agree.
"Mission target: Giovanni Auditore." There was the sound of typing and clicking. "Coordinates set. Landing and jump zone: West alley, two streets from the Auditore piazza. Countdown initiated."
This time, everyone stayed silent. Fitz could only hear her heart pounding. Again, the lights dimmed and she was gone.
"She'll be away for just a few minutes, then we'll reload her for the next."
Fitz opened her eyes to the blaring sun, directly in her eyes. She was lying on the ground.
"Are you alright, Signorina?" A figure blocked the sun from her eyes. A man was kneeling over her. She struggled to catch her breath for a second.
"I-erm-yes. I'm fine," she returned in Italian. "This damned heat," she sighed, trying to look genteel.
He looked her up and down. "I figured your mother would've fainted the same if she saw you in that outfit." He reached out a hand to help her up, which she took. "Guess it was brazen enough for you to faint, too."
"I thank you for your assistance, but not your sense of fashion," she said brushing herself off. The man shrugged and went back into the street. She breathed in the air and stretched. Italy, during the Renaissance. She could meet Leonardo! But that wouldn't be for another, what? Fifteen years? Oh well. Task at hand.
From the alley, she surveyed the scene. The piazza was just ahead; she could see the western wall from here. Fitz saw a shop stall catty corner to her position. A gallery, perhaps?
"Here we go." She straightened her riding pants, checked her holster nad her hair, and proceeded with her mission.
She crossed the bricked street towards the dealer's booth. People milled about, some arm in arm, or toe to toe speaking very loudly at each other, simply discussing the day or the latest goings on. As she approached, the dealer caught her eye and began his spiel,"
"Ah, welcome! Welcome! I have ths finest pieces of art to ever grace the world! Is the lady shopping to furnish her new husband's home? May I interest the young lady in something by Dellaroche?"
Everyone assumes I'm married. "No, thank you very much, but I actually find myself needing a quill and a single sheet of parchment."
The dealer arched an eyebrow at her and touched his collar. "Hardly worth my time."
"Please, Signor! It's a matter of the heart! I must pen a letter quickly or my love will be lost to me. You see," She leaned in and whispered maliciously, "there is another he has his eye on."
He sighed and nodded. "Fine. Have your intrigue." He crossed to a desk bearing his lockbox and snatched up a parchment and quill and slapped them down in fron of her. She thanked him profusely as he slid the inkwell to her. She thought a moment of what to say and scribbled them down.
"Oh thank you, a thousand times, Messere! May fortune smile on you always!" she cheered as she rounded the corner. She skipped a bit until she came to the next alley and ducked in. Fitz reread what she had written. This should do it. Slowly she approached the piazza. The walls rose higher than she had first thought. The courtyard was refreshingly cool. There was laughter and singing not far off. She felt sad for a moment. Soon all this would be gone.
"May I help you?" came a voice. Fitz snapped out of her melancholy to see a young maid before her. Her hair was pulled back tightly, but strands had fallen free. She seemed a bit harried.
"Is the house of Giovanni Auditore?"
"It is," she said cautiously. "What can it do for you?" Fitz wondered if this maid knew anything about the Brotherhood.
"I bear a message from my master, congratulating him on his newborn son."
"New born?" the maid scoffed. "if you consider three months 'newly born'."
Fitz started. An anomaly from the first trip? "I apologize on his behalf, we only just heard a few weeks ago. News travels slowly to Roma."
"But spreads like wildfire once it's there," spat the maid. "I'll take your letter."
"Thank you, but I am to see this to his hand personally. My master was quite insistent."
The maid brushed off her hands in her skirt and huffed. "Very well. Wait here." Fitz watched as the young woman clomped inside like a teenager asked to take out the trash. She fanned herself with the letter, hoping to abate the heat. The doors creaked open a few minutes later and she straightened up. There, coming toward her, was Giovanni. He seemed in good spirits, a bounce in his step. She smiled at the sight.
"Signor Auditore?" She curtsied low, but he waved her off.
"Yes I am."
"Pardon me, Signor, but I am to give you this," and she kissed him on both cheeks. "From my master." He instinctively recoiled for a split second, but once her intention was made clear, he allowed it.
"And who is your master? In Roma?"
Oh. Crap.
"Medici. Cosimo Medici."
"I was not aware he had left Florence."
Crap.
"Forgive me, I mislead you," she curtsied again. "Master Cosimo has been in Roma on business. We only just heard of your joyous news a few weeks ago. I've ridden for three days to relay his well-wishes to you."
Giovanni leaned his head backward. "Ah, that makes much more sense, much more."
"It seems the heat has addled my mind a bit. My apologies."
Again he waved her off. "None needed." He motioned toward the house. "I would be a poor host if I did not offer you refreshment from your journey."
"You are too kind, Messere. I must on my way."
"No, no, I insist. Come see my son, Ezio. I'm sure Cosimo would love to hear what you think of him."
She stood a moment, mouth open to say something, thinking as fast as she could. "If you insist. I will follow."
He nodded and began his way inside. She took in a deep breath and followed. As he entered the front hall, with her behind him, he rounded on her, and caught her in the throat. Caught off-balance, Fitz, fell back against the wall, air knocked out of her lungs. She tried to scream , but the banker wa stronger than she had been led to believe. He held her in place with his forearm squarely against her larynx.
"Foolish girl! Who are you truly? Tell me or I leave your corpse for the crows."
Her eyes hadn't completely adjusted to the darkness, but she looked down at her hand, still clutching the note, now completely crumpled. With his free hand, he snatched it from her. She could feel the metallic housing of the hidden blade against her neck from within his sleeve. She turned her eyes upward, blinking madly, searching for an escape.
He flapped the parchment open. "Cosimo has been dead for three years. Your Templar employers may want to check their information next time."
"Not-not Templar," She wheezed. "I'm like you. Look. Please." He frowned and turned her toward the wall, grabbing her left hand, pulling it behind her back painfully. She yelped a little, fearing he would break her arm. She couldn't see, but he felt him remove her ring and inspect her finger with his hand, scrubbing at the scar. Giovanni pushed her into the wall, before releasing his grip.
"The Guild is in desperate need if they've allowed you in."
"Don't kill the messenger," she grumbled, rubbing her throat. "I was just sent to deliver that to you. I don't know what is written therein. If it is bad tidings or trouble, it is of no doing of mine."
He snarled inwardly and returned to the letter.
"For what it's worth, my most sincere and best wishes for your son. He will have difficult road ahead."
Auditore looked up and nodded, grumbling thanks at her. "I do not understand what this means. 'The Messenger'? Is that you?'
"The Messenger?" she repeated, feigning ignorance. "As in the ancient one who came to Altair with the prophecy? That messenger? Why? What does the letter say?"
The banker looked on her, pulling the page from her view. "You believe in that story?"
She shrugged. "What cause would the codices have to lie?'
The banker straightened the knot at his throat. "That's a myth, a story to keep Assassins on the path."
I'm the bogeyman.
"Perhaps, but what of the followers of The Throne?"
"Madmen." He grew suddenly dark. "Is your true Master one of these?"
"No, Signore! Surely not!"
"Go then. I will score this as a poor prank. If I see you again, you will be dead before your body touches my floor. Capiche?"
"Yes, Signor Auditore. I owe you my life."
"Yes, you do. Be off."
She bowed and backed out the door facing him, both neither truly trusting the other now. She walked straight out of the entrance to the piazza around the corner. Fitz held her breath, resolute on just getting home.
"Girl? Did your letter reach him?" It was the art dealer. She turned toward him. Immediately she burst into tears and ran. "Do not worry, Signorina! I have a cousin you would fall for in a moment!"
Fitz ran into the alley, and hit the buttons on her holster. She leaned against the wall, tears streaming down her cheeks. The flash took her.
She had only been gone a matter of seconds to her crew. This time, Hanover, Burke, and Yusef were there to catch her as she fell out of the Animus.
"Fitz!? Are you alright? What's wrong?" Burke brought her to a seated position on her floor. "Yusef, get your bag."
"No, I'm f-fine," choked Fitz. "I'm ju-just.." She cried harder.
"Did something happen?" Hanover asked quietly. She cradled the younger Assassin. "You're alright now."
Fitz pushed back, trying to get air. A wave of nausea hit her and she vomited. She sobbed between heaves. Hanover put a hand on her back. "Totally alright. We've all done that." Yusef grabbed handful of napkins and tossed them to Hanover. She looked up. "Grant, can we get her out of this for a moment, please?"
"Uh, yeah, yeah. It's just tied right there, " he said pointing. Hanover unlaced her slightly and she took in a huge, ragged breath. She rocked back and forth on her hands and knees for a little while. No one spoke.
"I failed. He knew something was up," Fitz finally coughed. Her head was throbbing, stomach churning. "He didn't understand it, and said if he saw me again, he'd kill me."
Grant looked to Burke. "What do we do?"
"We go on to the next date. Nothing's changed."
"You can't really mean that, Burke," Hanover chided. "She's scared shitless right now."
"Fine." Burke got down to her level. "Get cleaned up, take a nap. Be back at six."
"Greg!" she hissed.
"She's an Assassin, not a sorority girl. She got caught in a lie and escaped with her life. That's pretty damn good if you asked me. We face this every mission, so don't pretend like it's something new. Six." Burke left the work room, slamming every door from here to his bunk.