Chapter Seven:
This War of Mine
Paris, France, 1944
Deep beneath the city of Paris in the bowels of the infamous Catacombes de Paris, Mary MacKenzie wiped her hands clean of water with a partly-dirty towel. She stood over a water basin facing a wall of bones and stared into the skull of one of the many nameless foundations of the catacombs. Fire crackled and snapped nearby and illuminated the small alcove she was standing in. The water in the basin was pink with diluted blood.
Behind her, bleeding from the mouth with his hands tied behind him while he himself was bound to a chair with chains, was a Templar spy. Mary began to whistle a tune she was familiar with as she gazed into the fathomless and flickering abyss that was the skull's eyes.
"Ye know," said Mary absently, "I hear tell that there are around six million people who've been made tae be these walls." She stared at the skull indifferently, and briefly pondered who they were. She shrugged and turned to face the man, who was still moaning in pain. A bowl and metal tongs lay beside him on the ground. Scattered within the bowl's coarse metal was bloody teeth. "If ye play yer cards right, laddie, ye won't be added among the count. Unless ye want tae try yer luck with me?"
She approached and placed her hands on the arms of his chair, and then leaned forward. "Way I see it, ye've got one more chance before I rip the last of yer teeth oot, laddie. Will ye tell me what I want tae know? Or will ye like tae join these countless bones?"
The man struggled to speak. Trails of painful tears had been making their way down his face for hours. Mary waited patiently while he spat blood out the side of his mouth. His fingers had been broken hours ago, and now they were twitching to grasp his seat.
"I-I 'unno any'ing," he maintained. "My or'ers were c'ear..."
"Hm." Mary leaned back a bit and made an annoyed sound with her lips. "Ye're a stubborn one, I'll give ye that. Damn shame. And here I thought ye'd help affirm what yer comrades told me..." She shrugged again. "Much more compliant than ye. They got tae keep their teeth. I probably only broke one finger before ye came along. Templars have a loyal man in ye."
The man's eyes, diluted with shock, finally focused on Mary, who grinned at him. "Wha'?"
"Och, they told me everything. Shipment dates, officer names, times they relieve guards in a day... Hell, they even told me when ye stupid buggers go for a piss! But I suppose I dinnae really need ye. The last three told me everything I needed to know and even had the same stories. Ye were just tae make certain." The Scot backed away from the shaking Templar and strode over to a wooden table in the corner, where a dagger was left untouched throughout the interrogation. Well, until that moment. Mary picked it up and barely gave it a glance as she approached the man, but she did look disappointed.
He let a sob go and squeezed his eyes shut.
"I'm truly sorry ye dinnae think tae give me information," mumbled Mary. "It would have spared ye of yer suffering, laddie." Mary put the dagger against his throat. "I'll make this quick. May God have mercy on yer soul, and judge ye worthy to whatever afterlife ye believe in. Rest in peace."
Mary cut his throat swiftly, and in seconds the man lay limp in the chair, his head lolled back to expose the bloody gash. Gently, she took his head and bent it forward to conceal it, then took the dirty towel and draped it over his head to preserve his dignity. Furthermore, she undid the chains, and only when she'd made his body comfortable in the chair did she leave the catacombs.
The night was dark and the air chill in the city—the picture of serenity—but occupied Paris was in chaos. Soldiers patrolled the streets endlessly as the fighting within and without intensified. Tensions ran high between the Germans and the French people, and the Germans had been tasked to flush out the rumoured resistance with little success. The United States were also approaching, readying to make a move to liberate the stolen city. The conflict would begin soon, of that, Mary had no doubt.
The Scot glanced back at the entrance to the catacombs and frowned. A knot had formed in her stomach. The information she'd gathered was crucial, but she wasn't certain she could rely on it. Whatever the case, three more bodies had been added to that grave.
Still, that had been the first time she'd interrogated anyone since...
The knot in her stomach tightened, and Mary tore her gaze from the entrance. Dannae think about it, she told herself. Not now. Not yet.
Mary began walking briskly away from the entrance and kept her eyes ahead. She saw a patrol advance and stuck to the shadows, but it was clear she wasn't about to pass unnoticed. She began climbing the building she'd pressed herself against and ascended with fair speed, enough that any soldiers who'd thought they'd seen her dismissed her as a simple notion, or a ghost in the city. She hauled herself to the rooftop and looked across the landscape. She wasn't far from the resistance's base, she noted, but she had no intention to go there.
Well, not like this, Mary thought, and finally remembered to pull a glove over her exposed right hand.
Mary realized then that someone was watching her. She could feel their gaze on her. She looked around, then saw someone standing at the edge of the rooftop nearby. A cowl was drawn over their face, and their overcoat happened to silhouette enough that Mary was once again reminded of what she avoided thinking about.
They leaped across the rooftops until they'd landed on Mary's, and Mary drew her sword. With a quick-stepping lunge, Mary immediately had them on guard, hidden blade extended to swat away her incoming strike. Mary grinned.
"Ye're moving faster, lassie," said Mary, and she struck out a few more times. Katherine was backed to the edge of the rooftop. "But ye still dannae know how tae press yer advantage."
"Who said I didn't know?" Katherine made a quick side-step and managed to avoid the rooftop's edge. She was grinning. "You seem to be on the bend yourself, Mary."
"It's only been three months. If it were my decision I'd probably be beating a Templar with my crutch." Mary sheathed her sword and offered her hand to Katherine. "Still, it's good tae see ye listened tae the doctor."
"Not by choice, mind." Katherine gripped Mary's hand. "Well, partner, what have you been up to tonight?"
"... Investigating," said Mary. "Gathering what I can on the outside while our agents work within Auschwitz. Operation's going tae be soon."
Katherine released Mary's hand and smiled. "Have a plan?"
"Och, of course!" exclaimed Mary. "But I'll have tae explain later. We cannae dally here. We need tae return to the Maginot Line. The operation's controlled from there."
"That's all well and good, but I'd rather know now." Mary gave Katherine a look, but Katherine shrugged it off. "Or you could not tell me, as usual, and just surprise me with it later."
"Trust me, ye'll be surprised."
Mary led the way while the two navigated the rooftops until they'd deemed it safe to descend. They crept in shadow to evade the tanks and German convoys.
"So, why weren't you in Edinburgh when I came to visit?" Katherine asked quietly.
Mary frowned. "Tae be honest, I needed a change of scenery. I wasn't doing anyone any good tied down, so I began doing Hall's reports. Ye remember how many he had on his desk when we met? It dinnae get smaller, I can tell ye that."
"I can imagine he was grateful."
"He owes me a few drinks, aye."
They hurried across a street and didn't stop until they were well in darkness again. "How does Auschwitz look?"
"Like a shit hole." Mary scanned the square ahead. "It's gotten worse over the last few months, lassie. Our agents were almost caught a few times, but thankfully they managed tae divert the blame. If they'd died, we'd have naw way tae get ye out."
"I can imagine it must be hard to—wait, what did you just say? What about me getting out?"
Mary pursed her lips and looked sheepishly back at Katherine. "Did I say anything? Ye must be hearing things."
"I did not! What the hell have you been planning, Mary MacKenzie?!"
"Och, just a, uh, wee bit of espionage, is all..."
"Into Auschwitz!"
"Shh!" Mary looked around sharply. "Now's not the time anyhow, lassie. I'll explain when we get tae the Maginot Line, aye? Less chance of us being overheard by someone unsavoury."
_/-\_
Near Maginot Line, Lille, France, 1944
A long day's travel later, Mary and Katherine arrived and began preparing for a debriefing with Joseph Hall and a few other high-ranking Assassins, although Katherine had half an idea what it was already about. Auschwitz, clearly, but Katherine would be doing some spy-work. That unsettled her. Hear-say gave the camp no credit and made medieval torture look like a pleasant afternoon stroll.
So what was Mary plotting?
Mary had really no plot—only ideas and facts, and all to be pitched yet. Whether the Assassins who would gather to listen to her plan would allow her to carry it out was another story. It was lunacy, but it was also their best chance, and Mary wasn't going to waste three good agents within Auschwitz without trying anything.
Mary shrugged off her coat and hung it on the back of a chair with little care that it was trailing on the floor. She took a conservative sip of wine as she reviewed her notes while Katherine watched her from a corner. Since Mary had interrogated those Templars in Catacombes de Paris only a few more had been added, but based on her analysis she assumed the Assassins would agree with her trying—if not radical—plan into Auschwitz.
"Mary?" called Katherine quietly.
"Aye?" replied the Scot.
Katherine reached into her knapsack, which was some of the only luggage she'd brought this time around, having learned her lesson to be a bit more careful when packing. She pulled out two bottles of alcohol, chilled by their train ride but had since warmed up a bit, and tossed one to Mary. The Scot caught it deftly and held it aloft to examine it.
"Ye bought me a beer, lassie?" Mary asked with a smug grin.
Katherine smiled back. "Well, you said you wanted to make your way to America sometime. I thought I'd bring a bit of my home back to you." Katherine used the edge of the table to pry the cap off and took a quick drink. "My father swore by this stuff before he went overboard."
Mary did the same with her cap and took a quick gulp. She made a scrunched-up face that Katherine recognized—Mary didn't like the drink.
"Well?" she asked, knowing the answer.
With a grimace, Mary said, "Ye Americans... Yer beers are like making love in a canoe."
"Pardon?"
"It's fucking close tae water."
Even Katherine had to grin at that, and despite Mary's complaints she gladly downed the beer before returning to the wine on-hand.
"Is there anything I can help with?" Katherine asked tentatively.
Mary paused. "Actually, there is," she said. "I need yer consent."
"About Auschwitz, right?"
"Aye." Mary's fingers began tapping on the wooden table. "... I'd have asked someone else, but I had a feeling ye wouldnae be keen having someone else do the job." She pushed a piece of paper towards Katherine. Someone had written correspondence by typewriter, though it was in code, but thankfully it was already deciphered. Katherine noted Mary's writing was remarkably clean and delicate—something she didn't expect from a Scot with bad drinking habits. "That explains the details."
Katherine picked up the paper and read aloud, "Can smuggle one Assassin in by train. Comrades and I will keep an eye on them. No special treatment. Will be branded like the rest. Put to work. Lethality high. Have to wait for opportunity. Erratic schedule soon to settle. Extraction only available if cover isn't blown."
"Ye can back oot if ye want, Katherine," said Mary with a sombre tone. "It's dangerous, and can only be attempted once. The Templars will be on tae us otherwise. I'd go myself, but I cannae pass for a Jew and I certainly wouldnae make a very convincing German."
"And since I know German...?"
"Ye look it, as well." Mary straightened. "All we need is information. What's coming oot of Auschwitz, and how are they doing it? That's all. Any intelligence ye gather would be worthwhile. But I want ye tae make the decision. Are ye going?"
Katherine looked down at the paper. A chance to find the person who killed her brothers... It infuriated her that the one who'd put her on bed-rest hadn't been the one, and it terrified her that he—it—hadn't died. It was a monster. If Mary was right about the multiple Assassin-hunters, how many more were like that? How many more were beyond that point, and now purely indestructible?
"We have no time to look for someone willing for a suicide mission," reasoned Katherine. She met Mary's only visible eye with determination in her own. "I'll go. Don't worry about me."
Mary smiled, though it appeared more like satisfaction than glee. "If that's yer wish, lassie."
Moments later, Mary was guiding Assassins into the room. Meantime, she'd had Katherine set up a projector to play film against the wall. Once everyone was seated and Katherine had finished with the projector, Mary nodded to them. Katherine stood against the wall to Mary's right.
"Evening all," greeted the Scot. "Some of ye know me, some of ye dannae. For those not yet acquainted, the name's Mary MacKenzie. This here—." Mary gestured to Katherine.
"Katherine Prince," announced the American.
Mary nodded to Katherine and gave her an appreciative wink, then regarded the Assassins again. Katherine recognized Joseph Hall amongst the five.
"We're here tae tell ye our plan tae infiltrate Auschwitz and gather evidence and intelligence of our most recent development in the hunt for the Assassin-hunter. Any questions?"
"Yes," spoke one French Master Assassin. "Why are we gathered here? Why don't you just... act?"
Mary smirked. "Master Adolphe Laurent, I assume?"
"You assume correct, Mademoiselle MacKenzie."
"To answer, Monsieur—." Katherine held in a giggle at the Scot's attempt at French. "—I am no Master Assassin. I have been assigned this task by Joseph Hall, seated among ye. I cannae act without yer approval. Also... this almost certainly a suicide mission."
A snort rose up from the table. "And you expect us to give consent for a suicide mission of intelligence?"
Mary's eyes settled on the second Master Assassin. "Aye, I hope ye do, Master Bram Vanderkamp. Its importance shouldnae be lost on ye. We need tae gather this information tae properly assess the threat."
"It's only a single Assassin-hunter," grumbled a third elderly Master Assassin, who clearly held no joy in being there. "Dropping a bomb on them will kill them like the rest."
"It's not just one, Master Carlisle," interjected Hall. "Craig, Mary sent me a message a few months ago about her suspicions."
The fourth and final Master Assassin's brow rose in surprise. "Ah, yes. I recall your report, Joseph," she said, and nodded to assure him. "It was an interesting read, if not a bit vague."
"I wanted to press the issue, but with so many of us stretched thin with the war, I decided to let Mary and Katherine have some respite. It wasn't my call to make, but they needed it."
"A wise decision. I heard about their wounds. I'm glad to see them both safe."
"Wait," put in Vanderkamp, "there was a report?"
Mary smirked when she saw the internal battle Hall was having with himself in an effort to stop himself from rolling his eyes or, God-forbid, strangling the Master Assassin. "Yes," he said, unable to hide a tone of bitterness. "There was. Months ago."
"Hm. Sorry I missed it. I was on vacation in Canada."
"I wasn't aware one could just up and leave a war to vacation in Canada..." grumbled Katherine, which had Mary struggling not to giggle.
Mary took out her pocket watch and checked the time while the Masters bickered and debated amongst themselves, with only Hall, Laurent, and Master Assassin Josephine Dubois. When five solid minutes had passed, Mary grinned and shouted obnoxiously over the cloud of voices:
"Ach! Would ye look at that, lassie!" Mary's booming and boisterous Scottish voice quickly consumed the room and had the Master Assassins fall silent, wondering what Mary had to say. "Five whole minutes have passed. They must really like our company tae stall us for five minutes! That's magic!"
A presumptuous upturning of the nose was what Mary received from Vanderkamp, but she once again held the room's attention.
"Ye needn't worry about resources, agents, or the Assassin willing tae enter Auschwitz," Mary explained in a much calmer, but far more grim demeanour. "I've had agents placed in Auschwitz under the guise of officers. As far as resources, we need only take the train. Katherine Prince has volunteered tae enter the camp under the guise of a German rebel, and will bravely risk her neck tae get us the information." Mary's eyes narrowed. "Ye might wonder why we're going through these lengths only for information. And since most of ye dinnae read Hall's report, I'll tell ye swift: there's more than one Assassin-hunter, of that I'm sure. The Assassin-hunter I know was shorter than the one Katherine and I faced in London. There's no report of the one who attacked the brothers Prince, so I find it safe tae assume there's at least two.
"Just as well, there's a mighty chance the Apple of Eden that we failed tae recover years ago from Adolf Hitler and Richard Cole is involved, but that could just be a longshot. However, if it is, we need tae know. The Templars have used the Piece of Eden tae instigate this war, and now we must put an end tae it. But our first priority should be the Assassin-hunters. They're threats tae the safety of our fellow Assassins, and if we let them roam free we'll never get close to the Apple.
"So, tae recap: infiltrate Auschwitz, gather intelligence, destroy the Assassin-hunters, find Richard Cole and Adolf Hitler, eliminate them and take the Piece of Eden."
"Yes, but..." Master Laurent leaned forward, his brow knitting as he thought. "Even with the Apple, to free the German people from its influence we'll need someone who can wield it. Someone with the Sight, or some form of it. Otherwise it would drive anyone lesser into madness."
Mary nodded. "It has that ability, aye, but not always. Pieces of Eden are living tools, and like the Old Gods they're fickle. Much like the legends we have of them. But aye, I agree, though we should postpone the search for one with the Sight until after we have the Apple. Keeping our brothers and sisters safe is what's important right now."
"Let's just take it one step at a time," interjected Katherine, who finally stepped forward. "Focus on Auschwitz. Mary has all the information needed."
"Aye, that's true." Mary strode to the projector and turned it on. "All right. So we've done some reconnaissance of the camp... Here you'll see the main barracks for the German and Templar guards..."
Katherine couldn't help but drown out Mary's analysis of Auschwitz. Her nervousness was beginning to affect her. It wasn't just the thought of entering that hell-hole that shook her—it was that Katherine would have to come clean. To Mary especially. Why she hadn't revealed herself before, she could barely remember. Maybe it was because she thought her peer would judge her, or be angry with her in some way.
Those fears kept her from revealing that she had the Sight—Eagle Vision, as most commonly knew it—but for just a while longer she wanted it to be only her knowledge. If Mary and the other Master Assassins knew, they'd never let her leave Maginot Line. They'd coddle her and keep her close until they got the Apple, and Katherine wasn't about to let anyone get in the way of herself and the truth—of Auschwitz and the connection to her brothers.
They'd never let her leave on that suicide mission. Was that so hard to understand?
A part of Katherine hoped dearly that they would understand. Another knew they'd be furious the moment she declared herself.
Except Mary. Mary was a wildcard. So secretive herself, Katherine only felt it was an obligation to keep a few secrets of her own. Mary trusted Katherine with her life, but tried desperately not to speak of herself.
But it was just as Mary had said before, months ago: they were peas in a pod. Katherine would have to tell Mary about her connection to the First Civilization sooner-or-later, just like Mary would have to reveal her past.
It was inevitable.