A/N: For those who don't know, the real Jean-Paul Marat had a skin condition that make his face quiet unpleasant looking. This wasn't included in the game for some reason, but I'm including it in this story.

"By decree of the Assembly, all religious teaching orders and hospital are to be abolished, starting this day," the young crier yelled as they passed by. "In other news, Austrian and Prussian soldiers are quickly advancing towards the borders of France! Those who wish to join the fight against the enemies of the French nation, should go to-"

Then he was out of hearing range. Grim news, but she had known it all.

Élise and Arno were scouting Danton's home, the usual first order of business in their craft. His portrait and address had been provided to them by Martin. He was a very distinctive looking man, with a round, flat, baby-like face, and would be easy to spot in a crowd: that would be a good thing if ever they chose to assassinate him, but for now they were just after information. He lived with a wife named Antoinette. That was a bad thing, made things more complicated, especially trespassing upon his property.

Since Arno had returned from the Fédérés, having left shortly after their raid of the Tuileries Palace, he had had no shortage of stories to tell her. Some were a bit disturbing, most of them were quite amusing. And it was extremely comforting he had not used the distance between himself and the others to escape and go back to the Assassins. Timothee and Denis still seemed suspicious of him, and they seemed to go out of their way to keep the two of them apart now. Yet she was almost certain they would come around as he continued to perform. Things were going down a bright path. Although she had not broached the subject of allegiance with him in almost a year, perhaps soon should would be comfortable enough to do so. Maybe it was important she did, to use her persuasive powers to bring him over to the right side.

She could see the residence across the road. But just as she did, the man himself exited, locked his front door, and began heading down the street.

She stopped. "That's him! Danton." she said to Arno. "He's leaving."

"Perfect."

"Not quite. His wife is likely still home." Her eyes traced him as he passed behind two ladies in puffy dresses. "I wonder where he's going."

"He's a politician, he could be meeting with just about anyone. Why does it matter?"

Élise paused for a second. Then, without looking back, said, "Call it a hunch, I think I'd like to follow him."

She turned to her partner. "Arno, why don't you investigate his residence while I'm off?"

"Are you sure you should be -"

"No time to discuss. Please, Arno. Just go."

She began a brisk walk in his direction, crossing the street diagonally, forcing a horse drawn carriage to stop much to the driver's chagrin.

On the opposite side walk, she weaved past a man in a top hat. She started to realize it should have been Arno doing the following. Danton had never seen her face before, but if he was meeting with Robespierre - wait, no, she corrected herself. Robespierre had met Arno too, in the sewers, then in the graveyard.

Trying not to lose him in the crowd, she squeezed her way between a couple of patrolling soldiers.

Then she saw him turn into a building, at a place called 'Café Porcope.' It had not been a far walk.

She slowed her pace, then she entered the cafe herself.

It was an ornate place with sparkling chandeliers, thick curtains, and yellow walls. The floor was titled and each table was dawned with a white clothe. She saw Danton walking to a table on the right wall. Then the sight of Jean-Paul Marat struck her like lightening.

Marat likely would not recognize her. She had only seem him at a distance in the past, and he was a much more distinctive looking person than her, between his stature and blemished face.

She took a menu from the wall. Marat and Danton were sitting at a table adjacent to the wall. The tables behind, in front of, and to the left of them were empty. She headed for the one on the left, which would put her side by side with Danton. As she walked, she tried to look uninterested in the pair, self conscious about where her eyes fell.

She pulled out her cushioned seat, sat down, and immediately opened her menu, though not reading it.

"And that means he couldn't show?" Danton asked.

"I'm afraid not," Marat said.

"Bien, it's good to see you, mon ami. Tell me what you wanted to discuss."

Marat lowered his voice. "Assassins." That word hit her like a musket ball. "I don't know if they've come from the north or the south this time, but they're crawling about the city again. At least two of them have been arrested. I believe their names were Benoît-Jacques and Roger-Pierre, they were taken to separate prisons." She recognized both of those names, her mind abruptly thrust back to Normandy. "The first is in Le Grand Châtelet. I don't know about the other."

What a poignant and painful twist of fate, her past literally coming back to haunt her.

"I'm sure they brought more than two over here."

"Exactament," Jean-Paul said. "But the fact that even those two are being fed and sheltered in prison both unnerves and infuriates me."

"The prisons are full of people who should be headless and buried."

"I could not agree more!"

"We need to act with audacity if this new France is to survive," Danton said.

She could hear a smile in Marat's voice. "You are truly a wise man, Georges. A wise and brave man. I think Maximilien under-estimates you."

"I can't disagree with that," he replied smugly.

"You'll be privy to a deeper understanding of our order soon, I guarantee. Why they -"

"Madam."

Élise nearly jumped out of her skin. The waiter instantly amended, "Ah, I'm so sorry, Madam! I did not mean to startle you. I simply wondered if you wanted -"

"A coffee, please! Trois crèmes, trois sucres."

"Anything else?"

"No, that's it!" she said, trying to rush him off, information slipping away with every moment.

"Très bien. Would you like me to take the menu off -"

"No. Non merci. Please, just...no thank you."

The waiter walked off, Élise feeling embarrassed at her performance, but immediately returning her ears to the conversation.

"-a Revolutionary Tribunal. It should serve us well. This really is a new day!" Marat said.

"But what of our enemies outside l'France? I hear they could be inside the country by Septembre."

"All the more reason we should worry about our domestic enemies," Marat said. "I tell you, those prisons should be wiped clean!"

"Does Maximilien agree?" Danton asked.

"I haven't brought it up to him yet."