The sun was rising in the east of the third day. The heat of the day made sweat run down their backs as they kept moving forwards. Lips were dry and cracked. Water had to be savored until all were out of the area. There was no stopping in such a hostile place deemed a 'Red Zone'. Each man was worried as they set foot inside the abandoned house just miles away to their extraction point. That worry had to be placed behind a cold hard mask. Sand moved in the air as their boots made no sudden noise except for the items placed on their persons. They knew that time was short as many of the residents in the area would be up for the morning prayer. If they were caught then the mission would fail. No one would make it home. No one would see their loved ones again.

Moving steadily with haste, each soldier kept their eyes on certain points within the building. One man would keep check in the front while the other (who was in the back) would stay behind a few feet away before he too would catch up to the rest of the squad when he saw that no one was near. Those in the middle waited for command from their Sergeant to either move on or wait until all seemed to be calm. It depended on what was being seen or heard within the perimeter. So far there was no movement, not even a desert scorpion was seen scuttling along the sands. Though it did not mean it was safe to lower one's guard.

Slow and steady breathing kept one's heart calm. If panic was to stir than all would be in jeopardy. This mission was going to be a success. Get out of the Red Zone and meet with the other group. It sounded easy when he spoke it. But nothing would be easy with a mission like this. Guards were always on patrol making sure American forces were kept in their bounds. If the Americans were seen crossing through their border's than permission to execute was ordered. Eyes were peeled on the door at the far end showed some movement. The shadows were walking slowly as every man halted with weapons raised. The leader of the group placed his hand up in a signal. Hearts beat at each step when the shadow had stopped. Finger's kept steady near their trigger's.

Thump... Thump... Thump...

The crackle of a loud speaker broke through the silence as the shadow turned out to be a man who was saying the days prayer for all to hear.

Masyaf: fortress of the assassin brotherhood

Year-1191

Five Days After Finding David Webster On The Mountain

The sound of the door opening alerted him quickly. Instinct took over with the fight or flight response. Sitting up on the bed with eyes glaring at the visitor, a woman stepped inside with a tray in her hands. She had gasped expecting to be attacked. Covered in a form of modesty called a 'Hijab' that was supposed to be worn by many Muslim women. A beautiful piece of culture that has been passed down even to the modern era. David has seen it many times before when he was in the middle east. Scared dark eyes with shaking hands causing the plate to rattle against the tray. David placed his hands up to indicate that he was not a danger to the woman.

He would not dare cause any harm. These people were careful around him and were always alert. David was the same way. Trust had to be earned even with the barrier of language. Women would keep their eyes to the ground not giving chance to make eye contact with him. Many had spoke to themselves about the foreigner with finger's pointed. The men were different. They were cautious at first. Keeping themselves as distant from David. The five days of his stay was difficult for him to bear. In a world where he could not understand nor could they understand him. The five days were torturous for his mind.

"I have brought you food. Master Al Mualim has made promise that you are fed and dressed." She said rather fast. David was not sure on what she said but the woman placed the tray on the ground and a pair of clothing that seemed to be clean was also placed on the ground next to the tray. Without so much as another word, the woman left the room leaving David to ponder on what just happened. Those five days had caused him much pain.

The nights did not come easy. Dreams of fighting and seeing death over and over again. The sound of bullets coursing through the air, bouncing off walls. The makings of a kill as those very bullets hit human bodies. Eyes were focused of running through the hellfire as no man would be left behind. David had to shake off those dreams. He was again alone in the room with the only ease was the sound of the wind blowing through the window. Another day in a place he was not firmiliar with. Another day in a time that was not modern.

He was given clothing to wear. Something simple and warm that was easy to fit over his frame. Boots were given to him to wear on his feet. A comfortable pair that was made for the terrain it seemed. Worn out on the sole of the feet. If memory was right, David has seen men in the fortress wear something of the like. Food and water maintained his hunger and thirst while he was kept in a room with only a bed to rest his aching body. A window was at the far end of that said room with the sun's rays passing through. Every so often he could hear the sound of footsteps. The men speak in their language other than English. David was stuck in this world. He was stuck in this time. Breathing in the smell of earth was fresh to his senses that were used to smelling air that was polluted.

This place was still unknown to him. The name had deluded his thoughts because his family were on his mind.

An hour has passed since the woman had brought him food and drink. His stomach was filled and his body was warm. With that hour passing, David had yet to have any human contact. He was becoming restless in the small room. Walking back and forth with hands on the back of his neck. Tense muscles tried to relax. The door was locked for good reason. David could not blame the people for being protective of one another. He would do the same if someone from this time found themselves in the modern era. For the second time in the day the door had opened and inside walked one of the many hooded men. What he had said was unclear, but the man's body language made clear for David to follow.

Contemplating on whether to heed the instructions, the former soldier decided against his values to follow. Leading the way through a large hallway with torches lighting the way, David had much understanding that he was in the lower part of the fortress. The 'dungeon area' where maybe they kept all who was a foreigner or worse case a prisoner. As far as David could tell he was just a foreigner who happened to be in the wrong place and time period. The hooded men were not hostile much to his relief. They treated him like one would treat a new species. Poking at his tattoo every chance the hooded men got and speaking to one another in their language. It was as if David was a different breed of human. The hooded man that was named Al Mualim had much to be curious about David.

The superior would often walk in circles around him. The older man would mumble in a low voice until he was done observing. Today, however, was going to be a different day. The hooded men were used to seeing David under such a regular base. With the language barrier, many had tried to communicate with him. Some days were frustrating, other days no one wanted to be around David. He was an outcast. As an outcast the man often found himself locked within his own mind. Thoughts of home... How was he going to get home? There was only so much use of the hands that could get beyond the barrier.

"We are here." The hooded man had said.

Lost in his own musings David was not aware that his feet had kept moving. As if a natural response to his surroundings the man had lead both of them up stairs. David's body seemed to be on autopilot as he had not tripped nor fallen. Somehow his body knew where to go and who to follow when he was stuck inside of his thoughts.

Looking up the stairs of the large fortress, David knew where 'here' was. It was the main area where large doors at the far end of the building led outside to a wonderful garden overlooking the mountains. The trees in full lush of green. Flowers of exotic beauty in bloom. The smell was intoxicating like a woman wearing perfume to the birds, insects, and those of man caught in her web. Inside the interior of the fortress was something different. Two stories full with many books and scholar's who read manuscripts for translation or simply wanted to continue their thirst for knowledge. David could not get used to seeing such a sight. Never in his life has he seen so many books other than the library, but this was no library. This was ancient. This was complete knowledge.

The man that had been leading him to this point could not go any further. Taking the hint that he needed to go up on his own, David took that first step up the stairs. Walking up and through halls he could hear the sound of Al Mualim talking. His voice echoing through the fortress as the hooded men and scholars continued doing their task not risking getting caught for their ears could hear the older man scold the person he was talking to.

David walked a little slower seeing someone staggering with their steps. He could hear the sound of his heavy breathing. The hooded figure held on to his bloody arm. Seeing this, David took affirmative action. Running to the man's side, David had caught the hooded man before he could hit the ground from exhaustion. Being cautious of the wound, David placed his hand on the man's unharmed shoulder to steady him. Grunting from the weight the hooded man did not care for the foreigner at the moment. There was fire in his eyes where his body may have been broken but the spirit inside of him was still determined. David did not understand what was happening when Al Mualim and another more clean looking hooded man turned their attention towards them.

"I still live, at least," the wounded man spoke looking at the man that stood in-front of Al Mualim. The way he had said his words was like a growl. Blood had reeked through the robes onto David's fingers. The feeling was still warm causing David to flinch. Flashes of images passed through his memory and he had to quickly shake off that feeling. Now was not the time to go into a state which could cause David to lose all sense... and maybe be a danger to those around him.

"And your brother?" asked Al Mualim noticing the change within David.

For a moment there was silence among them. The wounded man shook his head with defeat. "Gone." David was not sure what he could do. The men seemed to have forgotten that he was there holding on to their 'brother' of the same robes and weapons. Without the understanding of their language, David had to be an observer. So far he could see the tenseness in each of the men before a trembling finger, the wounded man (whom David had head Al Mualim call 'Malik') pointed. "Because of you," he hissed at the more unharmed figure (named Altair).

"Robert threw me from the room. There was no way back. Nothing I could do..." The man retorted without much hesitation. David looked towards him not truly sure if he had imagined the unharmed figure to be believable. With the language difference, the body stance seemed defensive and twitchy.

"Because you would not heed my warning. All of this could have been avoided. And my brother... my brother would still be alive. Your arrogance nearly cost us victory today."

"Nearly?" said Al Mualim carefully.

David could feel the wounded man struggle to stand on his own. Al Mualim took careful caution when his eyes met that of David's for a split second. The English speaking man could not understand- that Al Mualim knew. The wounded man (Malik) gestured towards another assassin who was holding something within their hands.

"I have what your favorite failed to find," Said Malik.

The assassin set the tray on Al Mualim's desk. It was covered in something ancient that David has never seen such mastery; maybe in movies about ancient sites being discovered by fictional character Indiana Jones. The power that was within it was strong making David tense from it's strong power. Each man had felt that power course through their veins. Something strong was inside of it.

Their musings were short lived with the sound of steel clashing against steel.

"It seems I have returned with more than just the treasure." Malik stated.