Jacob ran back through the house, his mind already trailing the young woman. The square being a dead end, would have forced her to pass the front door of the doctor's house. She had walked right passed him and his men. That insult struck a nerve, and anger coursed through his veins.

"She's not getting away!"

His mind raced. Only a few people had walked by; the two or three kitchen maids and the young man, save for the wagons and only one person stuck out in his mind. The young man in the large jacket. There had been something strange about the way he walked, and now Jacob knew why. He was no man, but a young woman, trying to impersonate a man. She had rounded the corner as Jacob entered the house, giving her only a small head start.

Jacob threw the door open and ran down the stairs. The Rooks were on their feet in seconds, realizing by his acute behaviour that something was off.

"She's made a run for it," he growled. "The lad who walked past in the large jacket; that's her."

The momentary confusion wore off as the men recalled the figure walking past.

"The one with the cap? Fuck!" Anger sparked in their eyes as they hurried off down the street, rounding the corner where the girl had disappeared.

"We're going to get her back," Jacob said, "She can't have gotten far. Search the area and meet back here in half an hour!"

The lads divided into pairs, Harry and Charles mounted the wagon and drove off, heading for the street furthest down. Rob and Ed sprinted off down the second street as John and Tom, Greg and Liam made it for the once running parallel to it either side. There was nowhere for her to hide.

As the Rooks disappeared down the streets, Jacob shot the grappling hook at the nearest building and shortly pulled himself up on the roof.

He had not expected her to flee. In hindsight, he should not have left her alone in the doctor's office. He understood now, why she had come along quietly. She had awaited an opportunity to escape to present itself. Her compliant behaviour had made him lower his guard and leave her alone with the doctor.

How the hell did she manage to get her hands on a disguise?

As soon as the thought fled through his mind, he knew the answer; it had been prepared. She had tried to escape the orphanage, and had been caught in the act; the reason for the beating she had received. It showed to what degree the Templars intended to keep her in the orphanage, and further fueled Jacob's curiosity.

Running along the rooftops gave him an overview over the street ahead, the people walking up and down, children playing, horses and carriages driving along placidly. The bustle in the street was growing thicker along the way, nearing the local markets and the larger streets. If she managed to get away, he would not find her easily. They needed to get to her now, before she was able to hide or loose herself in the masses of London.

He stopped for a second, opening his mind to the second sight and scanned the crowd below. Dull greys mingled about, criss-crossing paths along the street as he extended the search. She could not have gotten far; she had to be there, somewhere. As he raced along the roof, the grey figures beneath were intermixed with stray once gleaming red.

Blighters. Fuck! That was the last thing he needed.

Then, in the corner of his eye, a glimmer of white made him turn his head.

There!

In the distance, he'd spotted her as she rounded a corner.

Jacob's mouth twisted into a shrewd smile, and his anger turned into determination.

You are not getting away, lass, he thought. Taking off again, his mind focused fully on that white glimmer, needing no more than instinct to find handholds and footholds while climbing and running. He was easily gaining on her, her head start dwindling as he raced across the rooftops.

Trailing people, was something he took pleasure in, foreseeing the movements of the pursued, assessing the best way to get close and topple a target. He preferred stalking from high ground, like a bird of prey, staying out of sight, circling ever closer, then striking down while the victim was still oblivious to the threat.

Now and then she would look back to make sure she was not followed. As most targets however, she did not check the rooftops and did not see him.

Getting closer, he could see that she was tiring, her movements strained and slowing. The poor diet of the orphanage was rendering her body unable to run for much longer. Checking behind her yet again, she took off down an alley. From above, Jacob could see it was a dead end. The alley made a sharp turn and seemed to continue, but ended in a low building. She was walking into a trap. She just did not know it yet.

The satisfaction he felt when capturing a target or cornering a mark, Jacob could have never achieved by hunting for artifacts. He could not fathom how his sister endured the endless search for those lifeless trinkets. Dealing with people was so much more intriguing than searching for the pieces of Eden.

At the edge of the roof lining the alley, Jacob crouched down and found the girl leaning against the building, catching her breath. Every now and then she was looking around the corner whence she came, checking to see if anyone was trailing her. As nobody seemed to follow, she walked further down the alley, scanning the buildings on either side, searching for a place to hide. She had no energy left to run, and was looking for a place to lay low.

Jacob waited until she had walked past him before letting himself drop to the ground, breaking the fall with feet and arms. The girl turned around, startled by the sound. Seeing him there, as if materialized out of thin air, she stumbled backwards, and fled down the alley.

Jacob let down his hood and followed at a walk. There was nowhere for her to run, and he saw no reason to intimidate her further. She was not his enemy, not a target to kill, just an asset he needed, and she feared him already.

Finding the dead end, the young woman stopped, and slowly turned to face him. Seeing his satisfied smile, she realized she had walked straight into his trap, and backed away with frustration written all over her face.

An inch away from the brick wall, she stopped, shaking slightly from fright and exertion.

"Easy now, Lass. I'm not going to hurt you," he said as he closed in on her.

Her eyes shone with hostile anger, unwilling to believe his word but unable to get away. Jacob curiously studied her appearance. She wore a pair of worn, dark brown trousers, and a jacket long enough to conceal her figure. Her braid was hidden under the cap, and the hair underneath was cropped short. Only her face gave away her gender.

She flinched away as he raised a hand to draw the cap off her. Her braid fell down to cover the short hair perfectly as he tossed the cap away. Despite himself, Jacob was impressed. He could not remember ever being fooled this way before. She quietly waited for him to finish his inspection.

A breeze ruffled through her hair and her eyes fell on the grey bundle of her skirt, lying on the ground a few feet away. Jacob picked it up and handed it to her. She eyed him suspiciously, but took the skirt and turned away while putting it back on. When it was done, she froze slightly, dreading what to come next, her body tense and her shoulder cringed.

Jacob seized her arm. He would have to walk her back through the streets to find the Rooks and the wagon. Running away, the girl had entered a borough that was not Rook territory, and any stray Blighter could mean trouble if they were discovered. Jacob did not think she would try another escape, but he was not going to risk her making a scene or drawing attention to them either.

"Now you will come with me," he said and twisted her arm behind her back. "You will keep your eyes front and centre. If you make a sound or try to resist, this will hurt."

He carefully twisted her arm further to illustrate the meaning of the words. She winced and tried to shift away as the ligaments in her arm joints were put under strain, but Jacob held her firmly in place. "I suggest you cooperate," he said before easing the grip.

It was an effective way to restrain a person, demanding little effort and leaving the use of his other hand free. Suffering his firm hold was a consequence of her escape, and Jacob did not feel sorry for her. She had put herself in the situation and deserved no leniency. She tried to dig her heels in a couple of times, but Jacob forced her on, tightening the hold and pushing her forward. Along the way they caught up with Tom and John, emerging out of an alley. The two lads spared only a stern glance at the girl before casually falling into a walk in front of her. From there the trek back was an uneventful undertaking. Behind the Rooks, no one noticed the scrawny girl Jacob led along the streets and she gave up fighting.

By the doctor's they found the wagon waiting with the rest of the Rooks, and seeing them return with quarry, the men met them with cheers. Mood among the lads was soon returning to normal, but the young woman's spirit plunged. She was lifted onto the wagon where the Rooks placed her on the floor between them. She had succumbed to despair, her shoulders stooping, and a pained expression on her face as she studied the floorboards with unseeing eyes. She was close to tears, and looked like she wanted nothing more than to disappear.

That suited him well. He needed to question her to find out what she knew and who she was, and a dishevelled person was more likely to surrender and give in when questioned. He would have to act fast if he was to take advantage of her state of mind; however, this was Assassin business. Her peculiar white glow had to mean something, and Jacob wanted Henry Green to partake when questioning her. He needed to go and get him.

"Don't let her out of your sight, Ed," he said. The man nodded solemnly and mounted the driver's seat beside Charles.

"We won't, Frye. You can coun' on us," Charles said, before smacking the reigns, bringing the horse to a trot. Jacob turned and raced in the other direction, in a hurry to find Henry in the curio shop.

/

Henry wasted no time getting ready , having heard Jacobs accounts of the morning, the eviction of the old management from the orphanage, finding the injured woman, her unexpected white glow and then her escape. He understood the importance of the task and the urgency of getting started on the questioning, and before long, they were walking through the gates of the base.

In the office, Edward and Charles were waiting with the young woman. The Rooks had placed her by the table in the middle of the room, and were sitting either side of her. Now their chairs scraped against the worn surface of the hardwood flooring as they both rose to their feet. The girls eyes was trailing about the room, cautiously taking in her surroundings, the shelves of neatly lined books and maps lining the wall and the cupboard in the corner, with the small brass key in the lock. The room was spacious, but austere and unadorned.

At the end of the room, bright sunlight was seeping through the windows facing the yard. The light caught the dust dancing in the air against the dark surface of the door leading to the adjoining bedroom Jacob kept as his own. He felt for the key in his pocket as he entered the room, making sure the door to his room was locked, rendering the door to the stairway the only one to watch.

As they entered, the girl's eyes locked onto him, and Jacob turned away to talk to Ed before he left, getting him to prepare a room for the girl and arranging a guard outside of the door to the office.

Ed silently nodded inclining to the task before walking after Charles, closing the door as he left.

Turning back to the task at hand, Jacob took a seat by the table opposite the girl. Henry had taken a seat by the wall, away from the table where he could watch her reactions without taking part in the questioning. Observing her was as important to them as hearing her answers. Her unconscious reactions, especially the twitching of muscles in her face and around the eyes would tell them if she was lying or withholding what she knew.

She sat gingerly on the edge of her seat, shooting a cautious glance at Henry Green. Jacob had sensed the growing fear in her as she watched the Rooks leave the room and close the door behind them. With apprehension, she turned her focus to Jacob.

Their alert attention clearly made her uncomfortable, as Jacob started to talk.

"My name is Jacob Frye and this is Mr. Henry Green," he said.

"We would like to know who you are. What is your name?" he asked.

"Liz" she replied shortly.

"Your full name?"

"Elisabeth".

She answered unwillingly, and as before, was restricting them to the absolute minimum. She would not make this easy on him. Jacob smiled at her defiance. He enjoyed a challenge, wringing the information out of her would take some time, but he was sure he would get what he needed in the end.

"Do you have a surname?"

"I don't know"

A shift in her eyes told him she was lying, and lying well. An untrained person would easily have been deceived, but to a trained eye though, there were still signs to be found. Someone had drilled her until she answered automatically. It was unexpected, but strengthened Jacobs conviction; she was hiding something.

"Well Elisabeth. We know you are of some importance to the Templars running the orphanage, and we need to find out why. Will you tell us?"

"They said I have a debt to pay off" she answered and looked away. Jacob silently scrutinized her. The Templars might have told her it was the reason, but it was a lie, and she knew it was a lie.

"How long have you been living in the orphanage? "

She stole cautious a glance at him. "Since I was a little child," she said studying her hands.

This surprised Jacob. For once, she had answered truthfully, but he could almost not believe it.

"You grew up in the orphanage?" he asked.

"Yes"

She was telling the truth, but how could that be? If she had been there since she was just a child, how could she be important to the Templars? He wondered for a second if he had read her wrong, and decided to press on with another angle.

"Why were you beaten?"

"I told you; I was disobedient." Again the short, evasive answers. She was back to resisting his inquiries, however, that just made him more determined to find a way around it. A wry smile spread on his face.

In the orphanage she had slipped when he made her angry, accusing her of being one of the staff. Provocation might be the way to get a genuine answer.

"You tried to escape, and they caught you," he said.

Seeing that smile and hearing his snide remark roused anger in her and she turned to fully face him.

"Yes, I tried to escape," she spat and turned away, fuming. Jacob was satisfied. He had just made her slip and she had given him an answer of value. This was another kind of pursuit, but equally satisfying as chasing her down.

"So the Templars caught you, and beat you for it. What makes you so important to them?" he said lightly.

"I told you, I have a debt to pay off." Her voice was colourless and low, but Jacob noted the shift in her eyes once more, giving her away, and letting him know he was on the right track.

"No, they said you have a debt to pay off. You know it is not true. What makes you important to them?" This time his voice was firm, pushing her for a true answer. He had caught her in a lie and could see she felt backed into a corner, her eyes unsure for a second, and her hands clinging hard to the edge of the seat. Then something within her shifted.

"I don't know," she answered and looked away.

He saw her mindset change as she answered, defiance growing in her, her posture one of silent hostility. Cornering her had mobilized a defence in her; the fear receded and was replaced by determination.

It took Jacob aback. In a young woman, he had anticipated growing desperation and then surrender, but seeing her reaction, he knew that would not be the case. Pushing the question further would not make her break. Changing angle Jacob continued.

"Who were your parents?"

"I don't know.

"Where did you come from?"

"I don't know. Why are you asking all these questions?"

For every answer, Jacob observed the same shift in her eyes as before. He exchanged looks with Henry, confirming he had observed the same. Turning attention back to her, he said:

"We are working against the Templars extortion of the people of London. If you were important to them, you might be important to our cause as well. It is what I need to find out."

Jacob observed her calmly as he answered. Her attitude was the same, but he noted how her pupils contracted and the pulse on her neck beat faster when she heard his answer. He knew they were signs of fear. "Who are you, and why do you fear to have your identity disclosed?" he thought.

"And if you find out, will you let me go?" she said, trying hard, but failing to sound casual.

Lying to her would not help him. She would not believe him anyway.

"If you are important to our cause? No," he replied.

Desperation flashed in her eyes for a split second, before the defiant look returned.

"How will you find out who I am, if I don't know?" The challenge in her voice was clear. She was not giving up without a fight.

It was almost dinnertime, and Jacob had not eaten since breakfast. The lack of food was eating at his patience and irritability would soon turn into a disadvantage. Jacob decided to take a break before it did.

He whistled sharply, calling the Rook outside the door. When he entered, Jacob told him to put Liz in the vacant room and lock her up.

Hearing his order, Liz got to her feet and bolted for the other door, hoping for an escape. Jacob got up to follow her, but let her run. Knowing there was no way out would maybe break her spirit and aid him in the further pursuit for her knowledge. She got to the door and tore at the handle. Realizing the door was locked she stood defeated as Jacob reached her and grabbed her arm.

He was about to turn her around to walk her out of the room, when her eyes fixed on the wall beside the door. Jacob froze, noting the look of recognition and bewilderment in her eyes. It was only a fleeting moment, until her initial surprise wore off. Then her eyes flicked up to meet his, hardening in defiance.

He escorted her to the Rook waiting in the doorway, and when she exited, she stole a short glance back inside the room and the wall beside the door.

Jacob and Henry exchanged looks. Their eyes moved to the back wall of the room, to the only thing hanging there: the crest of their order, the sign of the Assassins.