Damn, they're starting early, she thought upon seeing the mustached soldier standing outside the door of the Rolands' apartment. Maybe they knew people like the Rolands would get spooked by this lockdown, and reasoned to nab them quicker. Was she too late? The fact they were still at the apartment suggested otherwise. At least, there must have been something she could keep out of the Illuminati's hands, even if they were just searching the apartment for documents.

She surveyed her surroundings. The stretch of street was otherwise empty. She approached.

The guard put his hand up. "Ma'am, what is your purpose here, at this hour? We're in the middle of official business."

"The Rolands?"

"Oui."

"I have some information you might like to see."

She approached, reaching into her pocket for the note the Assassins had given her. When she was in range, she presented it, handing it to the guard.

He took at and looked down quizzically.

"I don't under, this is -"

She snapped his neck then immediately slid through the half-opened front door. She exhaled quietly.

Ahead was a staircase, to her side was a doorway to the rest of the lower floor. She heard of muffled voice from upstairs.

"Come out, Jeannot! Quit hiding like a child! It seems your wife was a bigger man than you are!"

That was a bright flash of hope, there might still be one life left to save!

She ascended the stairs, distributing her weight carefully to stay as quiet as possible. She noticed the bedroom door was already opened, the guard was looking through a closet opposite her.

She scampered quietly and made her way beside the doorway. She had done well getting this far undetected. But she heard the guard heading in her direction. She tensed. Then she heard him turn. She loosened. Knowing he was facing away again, she crept through the bedroom entrance, foot falls soft and delicate.

He was opening an armoire by the bedside. Even with her trained Assassin feet, she probably could not get much closer without getting his attention. But she would try. She took one large, soft stride. Then another.

The second step alerted him! He whipped his head around and she punched him in the throat with her hidden blade! He dropped the pistol he held and grabbed his throat and let out a grizzly gurgle! She took a pace back as he felt to the floor, blood liberally leaking on the floor.

She heard others downstairs:

"Did you hear that?"

"Ouais. Think we should check up on Corday?"

The element of surprise was gone. She heard them walking, heading for the steps.

Élise pressed herself against the side of the doorway in preparation. Her mind raced with the upcoming potential scenarios. She looked at the defeated guard lying in his own blood. His gun was lying alone on the floor. She could take it and fire from the doorway, but that would likely only leave her pinned down by an enemy soldier. No, she would wait for them to come in the room. Her heart pounded as she heard their heavy frames creak up the staircase. Her arms and legs readied for a nasty dance. Then they made their way towards her doorway, wood boards she had delicately navigated creaking. Her breaths grew shallow for the climactic moment.

A musket barrel stuck through the doorframe.

"Was that your dirty work, Jeannot garçon? We're not all easy -"

She grabbed the barrel, causing it to fire in vein before she revealed herself and yanked it completely from his hands. She caught a brief glimpse of his shocked face and grey eyes before she smashing him hard in the forehead with the butt of the gun, causing him to stumble back and fall off the banister.

She re-oriented the musket for her own purposes, but the violent display had been enough for the man's out of sight partner:

"Oh Jésus! You win, Roland! You win!" She heard him drop his gun with a clatter and scrambling down the stairs.

She lowered the gun, and sighed. Cold sweat had pooled in her armpits and forehead, but it seemed the last of her dragons had been slain. It had taken the death (or at least incapacitation) of three men to get this far. Now where was -

She heard a hissing whisper from under the bed.

"Oh sir, oh thank you, I-"

She turned and got down on her knees for a better look. Her young, feminine face met Roland's old, sharp features.

He stared for a couple of seconds in disbelief.

"I...Mademoiselle, I know you from somewhere don't I?"

"Yes, Élise-Emma de la Caen. I-"

"Of course, the defector from the Assassins! It is a great honor!"

He clawed his way out from under the mattress beneath which he had been awkwardly stuffed. She could tell hiding there was much more difficult as an adult than a child. When he got to his feet, he took several deep breaths and a put a hand on the back of his neck, then he pleaded:

"Oh Christ. Mlle de la Caen, you must...they took my wife! I couldn't fight back, I -"

"How long ago did they leave?"

"I...I don't know, madam. It feels like it's been an eternity but..."

"I'll see if I can rescue her, but in the mean time you need to get to safety. Head to Bastille. The nearby sewer entrance should provide you with a way out of the city."

"Oui, oui! Thank you, madam. I just -"

"Just go, please! They're bound to send reinforcements soon!"

"Y-yes, ma'am!" he said. Stepping in blood, he smartly went to gather some clothing from his armoire before shuffling out of the room in his goofy nightgown.

She wondered if Clavière had been so lucky.