Notes: *cough* I may or may not have been replaying Assassin's Creed II recently...
Warnings: Suicide, toward the end after the last pagebreak.
Chapter 14: The Fall
When had Hollie become so terrified of heights? Well, it started on a night in Venice...
"Be careful, little fox. This one is tricky." Assunta looked up from the battered, well loved yellow Gameboy color clenched in her tiny hands. The one speaking to her, a male about sixty years old with one blind eye and two missing fingers, gave her a disapproving glare. He was a haggard fellow with several missing teeth and a chunk of skin torn out of one of his ears. Age hadn't treated him well, either – his face was gaunt and his jowls waggled as he spoke.
"Don't worry about me, Angelo." A twelve year old Assunta replied with a coy smile. She was a waif of a creature – skinny and obviously underfed. Her brunette hair was cut short in an almost boyish style, and she was wearing a seemingly plain t-shirt with jeans that concealed several weapons. She shut the power off on the Gameboy and shoved it in a pocket of the large black backpack she was wearing. Pokemon and challenging the Elite Four would have to wait until after she took care of business.
Assunta loved Angelo. To her, he was like the father she might as well have never had. He was her teacher, and had been a hitman for Dante since he was fifteen years old. Most people were intimidated by his appearance alone, but not Assunta. She knew the man beneath the baggage, and he was a kind, selfless person who honestly despised what he did for a living. But like her, he knew there was no way out. He'd chosen his bed, and now he had to lie in it. Even if unlike Assunta, he'd had a choice.
"Promise me something, Assunta. No matter what happens, never become their pawn like I did. Never lose yourself." He said sagely. Assunta frowned and looked out over the rooftops of Venice from where they sat high on top of the porch of Angelo's mansion that served as one of the mafia's many secret bases. The sun was setting and bathed the beautiful old city in a golden light that reflected from the water in the many channels below them.
"I will avenge my parents one day." She said resolutely.
"I will pretend I did not hear that." Angelo said and patted her on the shoulder. "Regardless, DelGrosso knows he is a target after the stunt he pulled at the Vatican. He will have hired bodyguards, and the property may be armed with traps. Tread lightly, Cari. (Dear) This will be your most difficult assignment yet." Angelo told her quietly.
Some time later, Assunta found herself crouching inside of a hideous shrub outside of one of Venice's many Renaissance period villas. The large flower garden in front of it was being patrolled by four guards and six huge pit bulls. She glanced at one of the dogs in annoyance. Simply killing them stealthily wasn't an option. There were too many of them. She'd have to sneak past somehow.
Her grey eyes fell upon the chimney – crude stone that she could easily climb to gain access to the third floor where Angelo's intelligence suggested she would find Mark DelGrosso sleeping. She needed a distraction. It came in the form of one of the dogs setting off a small landmine and being blown to bits. Not wanting to waste the opportunity (or look at the mess), Assunta hoisted herself up onto the rock wall and began to climb. Spider-like, she shimmied along a gutter and dropped into a third story window.
The room was some kind of a library, and currently deserted. Cautiously, she made her way along the shelves and into the hall – that was being actively patrolled. She dispatched the single guard silently with a knife across his throat and a quick jab to the bundle of nerves at the back of his neck. He fell into a silent, unconscious heap as he bled to death. Outside the bedroom door, she pressed her ear to wall and listened carefully.
"Idiots! Keep the dogs away from the mines! That defeats the purpose of having them! And double the guard – if Dante's going to make a move it's going to be tonight. If so much as an ant gets past you lot, I'll have your heads."
How will you have their heads if you will be dead? Assunta thought with some amusement, and quickly ducked behind a statue of the biblical figure Daniel that stood in an alcove as the door burst open.
"Morons, the lot of them... This is the best DeFelice has to offer? This is insulting. I asked for protection, not children to babysit." The man who left the room, Mark DelGrosso, ranted to himself. He was tall, slender and dressed in a smart pinstripe business suit.
Boring, hardly a challenge. Assunta mused and plunged a dagger into Delgrosso's back. His scream of pain echoed through the empty hall, and was silenced by Assunta who mercilessly snapped his neck as he fell to the floor. She allowed herself a triumphant smirk, just as she heard heavy footfalls coming in her direction. Deciding to make a run for it, she climbed out the nearest window and up onto the rooftop.
Catching her breath, Assunta crouched behind the chimney and surveyed her surroundings. The guards were in a frenzy – climbing back down wasn't an option without getting caught.
"Merda. (Shit)" Assunta muttered and looked to the bushes below her. It was pretty high up, she doubted she'd be able to jump into them without injuring herself. Absently, she pulled the hood of her sweatshirt down to keep her face hidden. As an a killer for the mafia, she must never let anyone see her face. If they did, she had to kill them. No exceptions.
"There she is! Get her!"
"Merda. Merda. Merda!" Assunta grumbled, and dodged a gunshot. She had no choice, she ran across the length of the roof, managing to kick one of the guards off. He landed with with a splash in the channel – after instantly being killed from colliding with the dock head-first. The other, she side-stepped as she took a running leap from the edge of the roof, and landed on top of the veranda of the next-door villa with a thump and an awkward stumble.
This looks much easier in the movies, Assunta thought as her feet nearly slid out from under her on the slippery terracotta surface that was damp from a rainstorm earlier that afternoon. There were two guards in hot pursuit. One of them missed the jump and fell screaming onto one of the docks. The other was almost at Assunta's heels.
Assunta kept running, jumping next onto a ledge in the side of a large church near the bridge in the center of Venice. She pulled herself up and managed to make it to the roof. Panting, she knew she couldn't run anymore and pulled a gun from a hidden hip holster.
She wasn't fast enough. The man full-on tackled her and threw her to the ground. She managed to escape his grasp and kicked him hard in the stomach. He doubled over in pain, and Assunta went in for the kill. Her attacker suddenly grabbed her by the middle and bodily threw her over the edge of the roof. As she fell, Assunta flipped over and fired a shot from her pistol straight between the man's eyes. He fell into a lifeless heap, and she screamed in horror as the hard, cobblestone road below fast approached. Thinking quickly, Assunta remembered Angelo's lessons on how to properly fall from a substantial height to minimize injury. It wasn't enough. The last thing Assunta felt before she blacked out was a blinding pain and a very distinctive snapping in her lower back.
Several surgeries and two years later, Assunta was back in Venice to see Angelo about her first job back in the field. She was lucky to have recovered from the broken spine and pelvis, even if she was somewhat less flexible than she had been. Her growth was permanently stunted, and she had to be careful not to put too much stress on her back – if she didn't want to spend a week stoned on pain killers.
All in all, the murder of Mark DelGrosso had been a sobering experience for the young assassin. She learned a very valuable (not to mention painful) lesson about the importance of stealth. ...And that running along the rooftops was never a good idea – no matter how badass it must have looked.
When she arrived at Angelo's villa, he was nowhere to be found.
"Angelo!" Assunta called, wandering the grounds. No one answered. That wasn't right. There was always someone around, even if just the maid or butler. Uncertainly, Assunta went back inside and pushed open the wooden double doors that led into Angelo's private den, and recoiled in shock from what she saw.
Angelo was there, lifeless and swinging slightly from a noose tied to the large crystal chandelier in the center of the arched ceiling. Their was an ornate red velvet chair below him laying on its side. Assunta sighed heavily and shut the door behind her as she entered the den. He couldn't have been dead long, there was still some color in his cheeks.
On the antique desk that would have been the envy of a king, Assunta found a hastily scrawled note in Angelo's handwriting.
"Assunta, my dearest little fox." She read aloud. "Return home now, I have carried out your job for you, as I did not have the heart to order you to kill me. Destroy this letter, and send Dante to hell for me. Love, Angelo."
With tears in her eyes, Assunta tossed the letter into the fireplace that still had a feeble flame clinging to a nearly spent log.
When she confronted Dante, she learned that Angelo was sentenced to death for saving her after her fall from the church in Venice. Technically, she should have been put to death for compromising him as well, but Dante had decided not to waste her talents – just to remind her of her place and the importance of a job properly done.