Desmond landed on the parking lot asphalt, now in Abstergo territory, concealed by a large truck trailer and the shadows of night.
He was really doing it: Desmond Miles, the assassin. It was surreal.
"Rebecca, I'm in. What does this car look like, again?"
"It's a big black van, we're almost certain it's going to be in the underground parking lot. You remember the license plate, right?"
"Yeah."
"Desmond, remember: you need to keep a low profile. Abstergo's security is hair triggered. If anyone finds out you're there, they'll go into lockdown and your target will never leave the building."
'Your target', the man he was supposed to murder. What a world.
He got low to look out from under the truck trailer. He could see the entrance to the underground parking lot. He could also see a sliver of someone attending the entrance booth. There was another guard driving around in a strange, golf-cart like vehicle. Only a few cars remained parked outside, none of which were vans, but they could be useful cover.
Coming at the underground parking lot directly would get him spotted, so he would have to work his way around. However, two adjacent truck trailers provided good cover.
He crept along the asphalt. Someone would die tonight by his hands. That was his new reality. If he played his cards right, however, it would be only one man. He had tried to escape this life, only to be thrown back into it. He was in a totally new continent, but it was the same war, a war almost one thousand years old.
He had made it past the truck trailers. At his new angle, he could make a dash and probably avoid notice. It was not a certainty, but in this new life he had to learn to accept risks.
With a bit of faith he made a quick and subtle dash to take cover behind a small, silver car, then pressed himself hard against his new inanimate friend.
His heart was pounding. He let things settle for a few seconds. But he noticed he could hear the patrol cart. It was moving in his direction, the light from the headlights creeping up. The driver would likely not notice him when passing, but as the cart was approaching the end of the parking lot, it would have to turn around soon. That's when Desmond would be vulnerable.
He hugged his position, preparing for another dash. The first one had gone as he had expected.
The queer little vehicle passed him, the guard oblivious. Desmond surrendered his cover and made a light footed dash for the wall flanking the underground parking entrance.
He pressed himself against the wall. He had never felt so much adrenaline. The cart continued to hum through the parking lot as he got on all fours and snuck under the glass window of the booth, then past its door.
He had conquered two demons. As he began on the downward slope, two guards none the wiser, he felt liberation, euphoria. But it was not over.
The underground parking lot was sparsely populated, and he quickly saw the car. There was another vehicle, a red SUV, a couple of spots down which could conveniently hide him from view for anyone approaching from further inside. Now fate was being kind to him.
He took his place, awaiting the ambush.