"Bring the prisoner topside, lads!" Assassin William Kenway shouted to his crew aboard his Sky Hunter, Achilles Ratonhnhaké:ton, and two of his fellow Assassins, acting as riflemen for Achilles, unlatched their carabiner straps to escort Accendare's captain atop their dragon.
"Her escorts are still on our tail, William. If they manage to catch up to us, who knows what they will do to us…" Achilles said, careful not to mention the Templars in hopes of letting William's reveal about his identity slip by without too much thought, and Kenway laughed, but with a serious look on his face. "You worry too much, dear Achilles - but let's give them something to think about, shall we? Riflemen, aim aft of Achilles!"
The Assassin recruits swiftly moved with their rifles into position near the base of Achilles's tail, and they now took aim at the head of the lead dragon - a lightweight Pascal's Blue, whose crew was shouting insults in French at the Assassins. "Fire!"
In one volley of concentrated rifle fire, the bullets spun in the air as they hurtled towards the unlucky dragon, and several of them even found their mark on the dragon's head, killing it almost instantly. Neither Achilles nor his crew batted an eye as it plummeted towards the ground, and not for the first time, Accendare felt unnerved by these… Assassins…
"Reload and give them hell!" Kenway shouted, but there was really no need to do so - the Assassins who volunteered to go on this mission were too well-trained in aerial combat to let an opportunity to reload their guns go to waste. The second and third volleys of the minute rang out, peppering the bodies and wings of Accendare's formation with bullets. "Grenades!"
The Assassins then brought out explosives encased in small clay pots, and as a Papillon Noir grew closer, they lit the fuses and hurled them atop the dragon's back. It roared in pain as the bombs exploded, killing or wounding its top-men as the first attack was quickly followed by more rifle shots.
"Longwing formation, two points off starboard bow!" Achilles cried out, and with a giant flap of his wings, Achilles put on an extra burst of speed. The only person not thrown off balance by Achilles's sudden boost was Kenway, who was calmly sitting as he reloaded his rifle.
"Farewell and adieu, to you Spanish ladies. Farewell and adieu, to you ladies of Spain! For we've received orders to sail for old England, but we hope in a short time to see you again!"
"Kenway, this is no time to be singing sea shanties!" Achilles shrieked as he put on another burst of speed. His captain only laughed as he took aim at the eye of another Papillon Noir, and a split second later after the pull of the trigger, it shrieked in pain, blood trickling out of its eye socket.
"How many dragons are with the Longwing?" Kenway asked, and Achilles stared for a moment at the formation before answering.
"Seven in formation - and one coming straight at us!" Achilles said, and he suddenly dove out of the way as a dragon with red scales dotted with the bottle green uniforms of the British Aerial Corps zoomed past them, breathing fire all the way.
"Wow." That was all Kenway could say as he looked at the red fire-breather's battle with Accendare's formation in a mix of both awe and amusement. Even at this distance, he could hear the dragon's poor captain shouting at her to fall back. "Poor captain's sure got a handful to deal with…"
"But we've managed to escape with our target…" Achilles murmured, looking down at Accendare, who was glaring at him with a single golden eye of burning hatred.
"The day is won." Kenway said simply, and they flew on to join the safety provided by the Longwing's formation.