Chapter Sixteen:

The Sum of the Evidence

London, England, 1945

Hall was standing with Katherine near the airplane on the tarmac, suit prim, hat tucked under his arm, jaw shaved. Katherine's suitcases were loaded on the plane already, but she'd wanted the chance to speak to Hall again. Their communication during the mission was limited as it was, but Hall barely spoke after Mary's death. Katherine avoided that topic like the plague. She, herself, was not yet ready to accept Mary's death as reality.

Hall cleared his throat. Katherine swore in her head. She'd been standing in front of him on shifting feet for too long without a word. But she wasn't even sure what to say or do. She knew she wanted to summon some words of comfort for him. Nothing came to mind. Nothing convincing, at least. Sure, she could just pat his arm and tell him everything would get better, or maybe there was a plan in place, or how she missed Mary too, so he'd always have someone to write to if he wanted to talk. But Katherine could summon nothing.

"There was a request put in at the last minute yesterday," Hall started, a bit slowly. "By your mother."

Katherine's interest piqued. "Oh? What did she ask?"

"For the..." Hall cleared his throat again. Clearly he'd been sitting on the information for a while. And he wasn't happy about it. Katherine could tell by the way his fist clenched in his pocket. "For the Assassin-hunter to be shipped to the prison in Philadelphia."

Katherine's stomach knotted. Even in the days after Mary's funeral, there hadn't been much word spoken about the hunter. Truth was, no one wanted to talk about it. It was a dark chapter in the history of the Brotherhood that no one wanted repeated.

"Why?" asked Katherine. "The facilities in London are more secure. All of our important Templar prisoners are put in there."

"Emily's reasoning—," Hall seemed to mock that word, "—was she needed to see the hunter for herself."

"That's no reason to move a dangerous criminal."

"My point exactly. But your mother managed to sway the Council. In fact, she even got information on her I'm not yet allowed to view."

"Why not?"

"Sensitive material. They don't want too much information leaking. And Emily, apparently, has a special circumstance. You as well."

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Me?"

"Only what I heard. There are some documents for you to review on the plane, which will be provided when you start flying. Maybe those would shed some light on the situation."

Katherine nodded gravely. "If I come across anything interesting, I'll let you know."

"I'd rather not, Miss Prince. I don't think anything could sway me to see Sara as anything more than a traitor... a monster." He paused, then replaced his hat on his head. "I'll be attending the trial in Philadelphia. Her fate will be decided there. At the moment she's delivering her events to interrogators on the ship bound for America. I urge you to be there, tell the Council of your side of events. Let them know how Mary fought and died."

"I'll be there, Hall."

He smiled a mournful smile and tipped his hat to her. "I shall see you in a few weeks' time, Miss Prince. Do take care until then. And send my regards to your mother and father."

"I will."

_/-\_

Somewhere over the Atlantic, 1945

A stewardess had quietly passed Katherine a bundle of folders tied together with string and moved on to help the other passengers. She'd flicked it a couple of times in absent thought, wondering what she'd find within. The first couple folders had nothing but detailed reports of Templar activities in Auschwitz, but it was enough to make Katherine's skin crawl. The rest was gibberish that had yet to be decoded. Somehow Katherine thought whomever had dropped the folders off didn't expect her to do so.

Then she found, what she assumed, she was meant to find. In bright, bold red letters, "Project Kindred" was splashed across a folder, as well as an indication it was top secret. Katherine nonetheless opened it. Pictures, notes, reports on breaking the killed and captured Assassins down with the Apple. She came upon their names too: Rav Donovan, John Wessex, Seline Bartman, among others... And then Sara Taylor.

Sara Taylor? That name was familiar. The obvious connection was that the surviving Assassin-hunter's name was Sara. But the surname was itching at her mind, as if she should know it. She placed the thought behind her, instead focusing on the intelligence in front of her.

The Assassins were cut open, examined, poked and prodded, until finally the Apple brought them back from death as mere husks of their former selves. Sara was the only exception, alive during the entire procedure, begging for them to stop, pleading, threatening, and finally breaking down amidst the pain. The Piece of Eden reacted most strongly to her, even though she was the most resistant.

There were small notes among Sara's file, added by Richard Cole himself. Katherine recognized his hand. Weeks of going over the papers she'd stolen from him back in Vienna taught her all she needed to know about his writing. For such an uppity man, his cursive was atrocious. Thankfully it was legible. He made small notes about Sara's compliance, her recent missions, her successes and failures... How she was able to lead the Assassin-hunters, despite how tight her leash was. Cole changed very little about Sara, only bended her to the Templars' will.

After she'd been beheaded, a different hand added to her file. Some doctor, Katherine thought. He often referred to any of Sara's body parts with extreme use of the literal name (a specific broken disk rather than a link in her spine, for example), so he was a bit more of a chore to get through. But Katherine was glad she did.

The doctor returned to Auschwitz when the fire was out and the uprising quelled. He found Sara in the room Katherine had been chained in, wounded, but alive. She couldn't move her head too quickly. That gave Katherine pause. Didn't the Templars reattach Sara's head? It couldn't have just reattached by itself. That was preposterous.

"There are pieces of silver all around the world capable of makin' regular men monsters, an entire species that presumably created ours, and people with extraordinary inquisitive abilities. I dannae rule anything oot 'til I see hard evidence tae the contrary with my own eyes."

Right, evidence. Don't assume something before you have the evidence, Katherine, the American chided herself. But still, something as ludicrous as that...

Still, the doctor recorded that Sara was undoubtedly hostile towards him, swearing at him, trying to get to her feet (she couldn't properly control her body), and wouldn't stop her vendetta until she was knocked out by the soldiers who followed the doctor into the secret base. Afterward, she was put in the highest level of containment and shipped to Cole's base. That's when Cole began writing again, gleefully, glad his acquisition had been returned to him. He wrote poetically of how Sara resisted, spouted curses in languages he didn't care to understand. Then the Apple did what it was bade to do and Sara's resisting ceased altogether.

There was a large roll of film beside that passage. Katherine put off reading anything more until she'd landed in Philadelphia. She wasn't sure how to wrap her mind around what was going on. Those files were all Templar, so they must have been recovered by a strike team, more than likely when the assassination of Hitler took place. But why give it to Katherine? Why not to the Council, or to her mother? Then again, the files were being sent along with Katherine. Perhaps her mother was also meant to see what was inside those files.

The plane touched down in Philadelphia. From there, Katherine took a train to Bradford, Pennsylvania. She caught some shut-eye on the train, too exhausted to even think of reading, or to be worried about any nightmares. When she awoke, the train was just pulling into the station. Katherine thanked her lucky stars, gathered her belongings and stepped onto the platform. Around the corner a slew of cars were parked. Katherine scanned the crowd for the familiar vehicle she awaited and found it near the rear. Its driver managed to get into step beside her. She hadn't even noticed him.

Benjamin lifted Katherine's luggage from her hands, leaving only the files behind, and grinned.

"Katie," he greeted in his familiar tone. "Nice to see you back."

Katherine beamed and threw her arms around his neck. He gasped at the weight of the files pressing up against the back of his head.

"I missed you too, but could you please not break my neck?!" he exclaimed.

"Oh! Oh, God, I'm sorry Ben!" Katherine withdrew and tried to smooth out the wrinkles in her dress, as well as the ones on Benjamin's shirt. "I'm so sorry, I just—."

"I know, I know. Let's get reacquainted at the car, if you please. I didn't think your luggage would be this heavy..."

They hurried to the vehicle, eager to properly reunite. When Benjamin had thrown her luggage in the back (and placed the files securely in-between her suitcases), they finally embraced.

"I thought it would take longer for them to send you home," admitted Katherine. "I'm glad you're still all right, Ben."

"You know me—too stubborn to die." Ben led Katherine around to the passenger's side and opened the door for her. He offered his hand and helped her in. A gracious offer she gladly accepted. When he hopped into his seat at the wheel, Ben kissed Katherine's cheek. "All right, ready to head home?"

"Actually, I need to stop somewhere first. You know that old theatre we had? Do you know where the projectors were sold?"

"You need a projector?"

"Yes. I need some research done before a ship comes into port in Philadelphia. A film reel is included among the papers."

Benjamin shrugged and turned the key. The engine roared to life. His car must have just been fixed at a garage. "I heard your mother has a projector at her home now. They charged her about three-hundred dollars at auction a month ago."

"Really? That's unlike her."

"She said she was compelled to buy it."

"Even less like her. You're sure my mother and father still live at my home? I don't have to worry about Nosferatu creeping up on me?" Katherine levelled her gaze at Benjamin suspiciously and playfully. "You wouldn't happen to have an aversion to sunlight?"

"Now that you mention it..." Benjamin stuck his arm out the window as they sped down the country road, gasped and yanked it back inside the cab. He stared at her, wide-eyed. "It burns! It burns like a perfectly normal, hot summer day! Oh God, however shall I survive?"

"Okay, Bela Lugosi, I get it!" Katherine prodded his shoulder with her finger. "If you want to avoid sunlight, then I suggest we just head home."

"I can do that."

_/-\_

Bradford, Pennsylvania, 1945

Katherine met her mother and father on the porch of their home. Benjamin allowed them the time they needed to get reacquainted by grabbing Katherine's suitcases and sliding around the family to get to the screen door. The house had been built decades ago, sometime in the early 1800s, by some wealthy plantation owners. Since the Prince family had acquired it, it became an unassuming farm on the outskirts of Bradford that was used mostly as a hub for communications between Assassins, since Katherine's mother was largely retired from the Brotherhood's more laborious activities. Katherine couldn't count the amount of times Emily would stay awake in the basement at night using sophisticated machines as an operator to dispatch Assassins to locations as quickly as they were able. The war overseas had slowed Emily down, for the most part, especially since the Templars had gone underground with their loss to lick their wounds.

Katherine forgot about the files for a brief few hours as she settled back at home, placing clothes back into her unused dresser, applying fresh bandages to her wounds that were still on the mend, and changing into something fresh for the new day. Afterward, her mother had made some coffee for the three and Benjamin. Katherine gratefully accepted the beverage, but as she sat on the porch bench beside Benjamin, she didn't miss how her father had taken out a flask and poured something distinctly alcoholic into his share. He's still not handling it well, thought Katherine remorsefully, but it was a more welcome sight than seeing Mary's flask, penetrated, leaking her favourite brand of scotch, and the only thing that stopped the rest of the shotgun's shrapnel from piercing Katherine. What cruel irony.

That was when Katherine remembered the files, the roll of film, all of it. But for just a while longer she wanted to sit blissfully with her family and enjoy a cup of hot coffee.

Benjamin had to leave a while later, having agreed to drive a friend to a date, and promised he would be back the next day to spend with Katherine. After he'd driven off, Katherine's father Henry made his way to the barn with coffee mug in hand, although he wobbled a little on the way. He was in his mid-sixties and retired, so he usually did what retired men do and hide away in his workshop, which the barn had since become. Before the war he was joined by Henry, Nathaniel, and Katherine. Nathaniel quickly learned from their father how best to rig up a motorcycle to explode in the showiest fashion he could find. Henry and Katherine were content learning the ins and outs of a vehicle.

"I received an encoded message," started Emily, sipping contently on her coffee, "about some things you would be bringing with you back home. Things that would not happen to be split trousers or a tarnished jacket."

"I heard you purchased a projector."

"I was compelled."

"I heard that as well." Katherine faced her mother. She admired her, ever since she was a child. This was the woman who taught her everything she knew. Now she was a little older, a bit wiser. Emily Prince made well-thought out decisions, having perceived the consequences years ahead of time. A compulsive buy was greatly unlike her. "What compelled you?"

"The same person who left that information on your lap. Unfortunately, they remain anonymous. I've reached out to every contact I've established, but they have no information whatsoever. No suspicious activities, no strange transactions, not even if they're male or female."

"So how can this person be trustworthy?"

"They cannot," said Emily bluntly, and placed her coffee on her table. "But they were the reason I stalled the trial for the Assassin-hunter. Until I know more information I don't want to jump to hasty conclusions. It's incredibly unwise." Emily proffered a small, folded note from the inside of her coat pocket to Katherine. "This was the only message I received."

Katherine took it and unfolded it carefully. Emily's quick, scrawled writing had decoded it in a mess, but thankfully Katherine was familiar with that specific one. It was easy to read.

"Let her live. You won't like it if I step in. Project Kindred is the key. Files in case you're fools. Katherine to receive, Emily to project. Death won't keep us down."

Katherine read the note aloud a multitude of times. It was such a simple, short message, yet it left Katherine with more questions than answers. She looked to her mother, eager to see if the older woman was keeping a secret to be revealed at the right moment. Unfortunately, it seemed as though Emily knew only as much as Katherine.

"I bought a projector in the hopes that would be the answer I was to find," admitted Emily. "I hope it wasn't too on the nose."

"No, it's perfect." Katherine stood, clutching her coffee, and beckoned her mother inside. "I can barely stand waiting around anymore. I want to see what's on the film."

Emily walked down to the basement to set up the projector while Katherine grabbed all the files she could and the film reel. She spent a few moments holding the film up to the light, trying to discover what was hidden on its dark luminescence, then hurried after her mother. After some trial and error, they had everything set up correctly. Katherine took another sip of her coffee. Emily had brought down the pot.

"Ready?" Emily asked.

Katherine nodded. Emily flipped the projector on. A few seconds in and the sound popped on. Then the image. It appeared it was an interrogation room of some sort. A woman was being dragged in by three men. She was bound up, the shackles fastened around her wrists and ankles interlocked by chain. But the men were still fighting a losing battle. She managed to lift her legs from the ground and began choking one of the men with the chain. When his friends tried to help, she struck one in the sternum with her elbow and the other with both fists at once. The man being choked slipped out of her hold just long enough to grab her and slam her face on the metal table in the centre of the room. Her painful cry was muted compared to the crunch of her nose. Katherine jumped at the sound. Emily watched on. The woman was pressed against the table, nose gushing blood, while the men harnessed her chain under the table. Then they sat her down roughly in a metal chair. They left while rubbing their sore spots. The woman spat blood onto the ground.

"Come on back, lads!" she called after them. "I can do this all day!"

Katherine noticed Emily become stiff. The woman spent the next while trying to break out of her chains and find an escape. Katherine thought it was as good a time as any.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Emily shook her head. "I... don't want to jump to conclusions."

They heard a door open. Katherine, Emily, and the woman all locked eyes on the interrogation room door in unison. Katherine immediately recognized Cole, dressed in a light brown suit, hair oiled back.

"Richard," the woman snarled.

"Miss Taylor," regarded Cole. Katherine, though they were watching Cole's back, imagined he had a flashy, superior grin on his face. From the woman's reaction of fury, he must have. "Lovely to see you again. You look well for your age."

"And you look like a growler salesman." Sara Taylor leaned back in her chair. Katherine immediately noticed the similarities between Cole and Sara, and reminisced how they resembled Mary. Their locked gazes—fiery and challenging, the way Sara's upper body was relaxed, but her legs were tensed, ready to spring. Katherine was taken back to when she fought her in Beelitz, how she moved like a panther. "You won't get away with this. I'll relish killing you."

"We both know you won't. You already feel guilty for what happened in Berlin." Cole had his hands locked together, elbows on the table, chin resting on his interlocked fingers. "Rav, John, the others..."

"You dishonour them."

"You led them to the slaughter. But don't worry, I'll reunite you all."

Sara's eyes flashed dangerously. "I saw what you were doing to them. You pervert everything you stood for. If Mary could see you now—."

"Mary's not here, my dear Sara. Or should I call you by one of your other names?"

"Don't turn this on me. You betrayed the Brotherhood that took you in, fed you, clothed you, gave you the tools to survive..."

"You hypocrites brainwashed me. Just look at Mary. She was an anarchist when you found her, then you tamed her, controlled her. She lost her edge and bowed out early. For what? A family? You made her as bland as the Templars would make humanity. So why not be bland together, but with a real purpose?" Cole snapped his fingers. A few seconds later, one of the men came in with a bundle wrapped loosely in cloth. Sara stiffened. "Adolf was generous enough to lend this back to me for some experiments. He's a big fan, you know. Was eager to ask you some questions about the Teutonic Knights. I had to turn him down."

"You keep that thing away from me," hissed Sara.

Cole reached into the bundle and drew out the Apple. A flash of light enveloped the screen. Everything went blank for a time, a curtain of white in Katherine and Emily's eyes. When it finally lessened, it appeared as though the film was skipping.

The first thing they saw with the new batch was Cole's face.

"Entry number three, day fourteen," he said into the camera. Sara's body was slumped over the table. Katherine could see where the blood had dried on the table from when Sara's nose had broken, but it appeared a great deal more torture had been inflicted since. "Sara Taylor's connection to another Apple of Eden mostly shields her from probing, but her walls have begun to crack. In due time, I think—."

The film skipped. Katherine decided to investigate later. The next scene, Katherine cringed. The chair Sara had sat in before was overturned in a corner. She was on her knees hitting her head against the table. There was more blood. Katherine heard sobbing. Cole was still sitting across from her. He'd draped his jacket over the back of his chair and stroked the Apple like a cat.

"Make it stop..." Sara whimpered. "No more. No more. Make it stop. No more..."

Cole held the Apple out. Sara was tossed backward like a battering ram had struck her chest. The manacles on her wrists yanked her back, and she hit the ground with a loud snap. Both Emily and Katherine jumped that time.

"Her ribs and shoulder," whispered Emily.

"Do you give up?" Cole asked.

Katherine watched Sara pick herself up—painfully—from the ground. She saw the heat in her eyes that reminded her of Mary.

"Fuck you."

"Have it your way."

It cut away again. Katherine watched on. She saw broken images of Cole having Sara mutilate herself with the Apple that made her want to gag. She wondered if her father had anything stronger than the usual stuff lying around. Then she saw Sara pluck her own eyes out under the Apple's influence. Katherine had to look away, stood and retreated to a nearby wall in the basement. Emily merely glanced down at her coffee.

Finally, it cut to a moment with Cole and Sara. Sara had eyes again. There was so much blood everywhere. Cole placed the Apple against her head.

"What is she?" Katherine whispered, feeling bile crawling up her throat. "For the love of God, what is that woman?"

"Your compliance will be rewarded," said Cole to Sara. "Now, I need you to accompany me to Edinburgh. We should visit an old friend."

Sara didn't speak. Almost robotically she rose from the chair she sat in and followed Cole, like an obedient dog coming to heel. Katherine saw nothing in Sara's eyes that reminded her of Mary any more. She was completely under the Apple's influence.

There was still film left. The last of it played. It was in the same, windowless, underground room Sara had first been tossed in, though it had since been cleaned of the copious amounts of blood that once decorated it. Katherine absently wondered how anyone could live through that much blood loss. Then again, she'd just witnessed the impossible twice.

Some more goons brought Sara in, this time five in total. There was no fight left in Sara, but it appeared she wasn't under the Apple's influence any longer. Cole crossed the floor without waiting for his Templar brothers to leave, flicking a folder between his thumbs as he watched Sara.

"Project Kindred, in the Year of Our Lord 1944. Status of Kindred Alpha, alive." He snapped the folder shut. "Barely. Beheaded. Lost connection with host. Ready to re-educate."

"No..." Sara's voice was barely above a whisper. It was more like a whimper, when Katherine really listened to it.

Cole sent the men out to grab the Apple once they'd fastened Sara to the table and shoved her in the chair again. "No use arguing, Sara. We know how this went last time. This time I have some questions that need answers first."

"Eat a dick, Cole."

"Yes, yes, you've said that before." A Templar brought Cole the Apple, presenting it to him in its cloth. Katherine saw Sara hang her head. "Let's reintroduce you two, shall we?"

Cole got close to Sara. In a quick, practiced movement, Sara leapt up from her seat and smashed her head against his nose. Emily and Katherine could hear the subsequent crunch and winced. Cole shouted and slammed the Apple against the back of Sara's head. That was enough to stop the weary Assassin with hair soaked in Cole's blood. He walked away from her to nurse his nose. Katherine heard Sara laughing into the table. Cole settled a dark glare, gave up on his bleeding nostrils and pressed the Apple firmly against Sara's head. The laughing stopped. It was replaced by screams.

"Tell me who the girl was with Mary," Cole ordered. "I know you know her. Tell me!"

It felt like hours Katherine watched Sara squirm on the table like a ragdoll, all her energy expelled giving Cole a bloody nose. Finally, Cole pulled the Piece of Eden from her. She slumped.

"She... is... Katherine Prince..." Sara murmured monotonously. "Daughter of... Emily... and Henry... Prince... Brothers, Nathaniel... and Henry... I killed them..."

"More," commanded Cole.

"Lineage... goes back to... Darim... Ibn-La'Ahad... Son of... Altaïr..." Sara squirmed. It looked as though she was trying to fight the words coming out of her mouth. "Adept... in poisons... Family calls... most learned in poisons... 'Hayya'..." Katherine saw blood leaking from her mouth. Was she biting her own tongue? "I... killed them... too..."

"Stop." Cole seemed to notice as well. "That's enough information for now. I need to get you back on track." Cole let Sara groggily try to regain her senses, playfully tossed the Apple into the air, caught it, and then brought it down hard on the woman's head.

The film spun off the reel, finished with what it had to show. Emily took hold of her coffee and stood. Katherine felt bile rise again and did her best to keep it down.

"Sara..." her mother murmured.

"Who is she?" Katherine demanded suddenly. "What the hell is she?!"

Emily calmly set her mug on the table and began perusing the documents peeking out of the files Katherine had brought. Without even giving her only living child a glance, Emily answered, "Her name is Suna."