When I woke up, the fist thing I registered was the beeping, perhaps a heart monitor. Then I heard the murmuring.
"How did he survive?"
"He was lucky. that's for sure."
"What about the others?"
"They barely got out of there alive. We lost a lot of good people today."
"Thank God we got the recruits and Ethan's team out. They're the best we have, and the recruits show some real skill."
"What about Williamson?"
"On life support, but he'll recover."
"And his family?"
"The woman is gonna have some vision problems for the rest of her life, but she got off lightly."
"And him?"
"We don't know if he'll even wake up, and if he does, if he'll be the same."
"It would be a shame if he does. He's shown so much talent in such a short time."
I slowly opened my eyes. At first, my vision was blurred, but as it cleared up, I saw a dark grey ceiling, white walls, a window showing a cloudy sky, and a group of people near the wooden door. One of them I saw was Jones, battered, but unharmed. The others wore the Assassin emblem, but I didn't recognize them. Clearly, I wasn't in L.A any more.
"Look, he's awake!" one of the men whispered, and the four of them huddled around my bed.
"Ryan?" Jones asked nervously.
I slowly turned my head to look at him. "Where are we?"
"The Assassin hideout in New York," Jones informed me, "It's meant to be an insurance company, but that's just a front."
"You must be wondering what happened," one of the men said.
"Who are you?" I asked groggily.
"William," he said, "William Miles."
"William's the Master of the Assassins," Jones explained.
"I thought you were," I told him. Jones laughed.
"No, it's not my time yet. I only lead the L.A branch," he looked solemn, "Or I used to, that is."
"The attack," I said, remembering, "Did anyone else make it out?"
"Your family and team made it out," William assured me, "Your mother will have some vision problems, but she's recovering already. But we lost a lot of of the L.A branch died in the attack."
I sighed. "How did they find us?"
William and Jones exchanged a look.
"There's a traitor in the Brotherhood," William said after a moment's pause.
"Jesus," I said, "Do we have any leads?"
"Only one," Jones told him, "An Assassin agent was seen outside the walls just before the attack. The informant says that he spoke with a man wearing a Templar ring."
"What do we do now?" I asked.
"We're putting you back on the field, if you're up to it that is," informed William.
"Then what are you waiting for?" I asked, "Now, where's my blade?"
The next day, I was reunited with my family and team. My mother kept blinking to clear up her left eye, but she'd have to just get used to it. Charlie was now part of the team, so we both set out to find the Assassin Jones had mentioned. It would be challenging; NYC was a big place, but we had reason to believe he was in lower Manhattan. We drove there from the disused building in Harlem that the Assassins used in a white sedan. The car came with two handguns and several spare licence plates, in case the police became a problem.
"So where's the guy?" I asked as I drove.
"The informant says the Assassin's in a cafe in Battery Park City," Charlie told me, "He'll bring the Assassin around the back of the cafe so we can confront him."
"Got it."
I would have loved to see the sights of New York. It was always something we discussed, but it never happened. But I had to resort to seeing the NYC landmarks from the car. We had difficulties getting past the World Trade Center; the bombing from February had left it's mark, and there was heavy construction at the base of the North Tower. When we got their, the grey-hooded informant look impatience.
"You're five minutes late," he pointed out, scowling.
"Troy, it's New York," Charlie retorted. Troy sighed in defeat.
"Alright, you guys hide out of site while I lure him to the alleyway. When we go round the corner, you follow." He disappeared into the cafe, leaving us alone.
"I'm still wondering," I said, "How far does our reach really extend?"
"We've got Assassin operations all over the world," Charlie said as we went back to the car, "Each country has more than a few, but we have a bureau in every American state. Well, except one."
It only just occured to me; with the base destroyed and hundreds dead, California was in Templar hands.
A few minutes later, Troy emerged and led the traitor around the back of the cafe. We followed. The Assassin turned around and said "What the hell?"
I pinned him against the wall, while Troy and Charlie stood on either side.
"Where were you when the L.A base was attacked?" I questioned.
"I don't know what you're talking about!" the Assassin said, panting with terror. Pathetic.
"Don't lie," Troy advised him, "We know you were talking to a Templar outside before the attack."
"They threatened me!" the Assassin complained, "They were going to kill me!"
"So you betrayed us?!" Charlie said, outraged, "You swore do devote your life to this! We called you brother, and gave you a life!"
"You are mistaken," the Assassin spat, the fear suddenly gone, "I can never betray those who were never my allies."
"What do you mean?" Charlie asked, but the Assassin could only laugh before I drove my blade through his forehead.
"Damnit, Ryan!" Troy scolded, "We could have gotten more out of him!"
"He'd never have talked," I replied calmly, pulling my blade out and letting the body slide to the ground.
"If only we'd-" Troy began.
"Tortured him?" Charlie finished, "We are not the Templars, we shouldn't become them.
Troy looked unconvinced but didn't argue.
"Well, I said, shaking my blade clean, "That's one less Templar to deal with."
"So there was no other way?" Ethan leaned against the railing, looking at me.
"He was a Templar through and through. We couldn't afford to let him live."
He sighed. "Such a shame, but the job is done."
"So what's our next move?" I asked.
"We're tracking a guy named Sam Grove," Ethan said, "And yes, he's Michael Grove's brother."
"What's his story?" I asked.
"He's their leader. The guy who runs it all. Take him out, and we'll have the Templars defenseless."
"So what's the plan to get him?"
Ethan looked serious. "Ryan, Grove has a death wish on you. If he capþres you, he'll do worse than kill you."
"Are you asking me to stay out of this?" I asked. Ethan flinched.
"Ryan, I didn't mean-"
"Don't give me that!" I snapped, "You think I can't handle it." Ethan scowled.
"That's not it. I just don't want to see you get hurt!" he said, unable to cover up how hurt he was. I saw my mistake.
"I'm sorry man," I said, "I shouldn't act like that, but don't worry, I can handle myself."
Ethan looked relieved. "No, I should have thought better of you. I'm sorry."
We looked down at the street from the observation deck, in the distance was the Chrysler Building, and the Twin Towers stood in the distance.
"It's almost over, Ryan," Ethan said, "Our job's nearly done."