A/N: Approaching chapter 100, I kind of regret the stylistic choice for how I divide up chapters. But it seems a little late to change this. Oh well.
The broadcast had indeed come from enemy territory. Shortly down the dirt road was a Templar outpost: a building about as big as a barn, made of corrugated metal, surrounded (except near the driveway) by a chain-linked fence topped with barbed wire. In the driveway were two parked cars, a red pick-up truck and a black van.
They had scouted the perimeter in the shadowy surrounding woods, an arduous process, trying to plan an approach. What they knew now is that there were two entrances. One was on the back of right of the building. The other was near the end of the driveway, on the opposite wall, about halfway down the building's left flank.
There were two guards outside, both wearing tactical vests. One was at front and center, a man with a single-barreled shotgun. By the back entrance was a man with some kind of assault rifle: Desmond was not good with identifying weapons.
Rebecca and Desmond had decided their best bet was the driveway entrance. However, there were certainly more Templars inside, and they would surely kill the captives if they knew they were compromised, so the pair had to do things carefully.
They had settled on this:
Rebecca was to provide a distraction, shifting the attention of the front guard away from the driveway. Desmond was to approach from the opposite side, and enter through the driveway door. It might be locked, but the Bleeding Effect had taught him how to pick.
Crane had given him something called a "flashbang grenade" to use once he opened the door. It was something for blinding and deafening everyone in the room, a way to incapacitate any the guards without harming Lucy, Shaun, or Claude.
So much hinged on these coming minutes. A small mistake could cost three lives. A bigger one could cost five. But this was the life he had asked for.
Now he just had to wait for Rebecca's distraction.
There was crack of wood deep in Rebecca's side of the forest. The guard turned his attention. Desmond knew that was his cue.
He moved quickly and silently, just like his ancestors. To his surprise, he was nearly perfect in his imitation, but every pinch of sound still grated his hyper sensitive ears.
He got behind one of the cars, heart pounding. The guards were already curiously chatting in French. Ironically, speaking French was one skill he had not picked up from the animus.
He made his way around the vehicles, seeing the door. He thought he could hear a familiar voice from inside, but dared not spare a second listening. He tried twisting the knob slightly.
Locked.
He took out his lockpick and got to work. In the background, the puzzled guards continued to chat, but Desmond kept his focus on the tumblers.
Click.
The door was unlocked. These next few seconds would mean everything. It was time to finally make some noise.
He pulled the pin, opened the door thirty degrees and tossed the grenade in direction where he saw people. Then he promptly shut it (albeit keeping the nob twisted) to shield himself from the sound.
For the next two seconds he reflected on what he had seen through the doorway: two guards with pistols facing his direction, and two in chairs facing opposite him. The two captives visible were Lucy and Shaun. There was some kind of table in front of them with an opened laptop.
When the muffled bang sounded through the door, he swung it opened and charged in with all his mite.
The Templar thugs were staggering and stumbling about as his sprinting feet pounded the floor. One of them started firing his gun erratically, missing wildly. When Desmond got close he danced the dance of his ancestors and stuck each with a hidden blade.
They pathetically gave a few more stumbles before collapsing. Desmond promptly drew his pistol and looked to the side entrance with iron focus. His heart was pounding, his armpits damp with cold sweat.
But there were only crickets. He waited, sights of the gun trained on the door. But still just crickets.
He assumed Rebecca won her gunfight. Otherwise there would still be commotion.
That was it. Everything had gone according the plan. His three friends were safe. The plan had worked. In a way, it sort of surprised him. He let himself a relax a little.
But was still full of adrenaline. He turned back to his captives. He noticed, unsettlingly, Claude was no where to be seen.
Lucy's lower lip was fat, dried blood running down the corner of her mouth. Her left eye socket was bruised.
"Lucy, are you okay?"
"I'm...I'm fine," she said.
"Our ears are still ringing, Desmond. Perhaps you could hold off on the questions for a bit."
He looked towards Shaun, who's cheek was purple and swollen like a plum.
"It's nice to see you too, Shaun. Where's Claude?"
Lucy responded in a voice wet with distress. "He tried to escape when we first got apprehended. They killed him!"
"Jesus."
Then a voice came from the laptop on the desk, which Desmond had forgotten about in the heat of the moment.
"Mr. Miles, I see you've come a long way, finally embracing your heritage."
Vidic.
Some kind of video call had been happening. He was standing next to another person Desmond recognized from his time in the American Abstergo facility: A middle aged, heavyset man with a shaved head and dark beard.
"Same to you Vidic, you're the same power hungry dickheads your ancestors were."
"Power hungry? Our order took this path reluctantly. We showed plenty of patience with humanity, gave them chance after chance. We even killed 3,000 of your countrymen just give humanity one last chance to prove itself. But those experiments in the Middle East were our last straw." The tinfoil heads had been right about that one too!?
"Our countrymen, you mean!" he shot back angrily.
"It's an academic distinction now, Mr. Miles. Soon there will be no more national borders."
It was the fatter man who spoke next. "Cease and desist this meddling immediately, Desmond Miles. The remnants of your order is in tatters. We need only find one of the Pieces of Eden from your ancestors memories to complete our work. You can't possibly beat us to every one."
"Maybe we don't need to," Desmond said. Though he immediately regretted showing the slightest indication he knew about The Connector.
Regardless, the response did not seem to phase the fat man at all, he simply leaned in and ended the call.
Desmond soul was rattled by everything that had happened. Since they had arrived, it had been perhaps the most intense hour of his life. He turned got to unbinding Lucy, carefully using his blade to cut her constraints without slicing her. As he did, he asked. "Who was that? The other guy?"
"Alan Rikkin," she said. "Abstergo's CEO."
As soon as she was freed, she stood up and then stumbled onto all fours. Her legs were probably numb after all that time. But she crawled her way to one of the dead bodies and picked up his pistol.
Desmond looked to Shaun. He became Denis on the day his ancestor had rescued him from the Bastille. Entranced, Desmond felt -
"I'm not sure what you're waiting for, Desmond," Shaun said. With those words he returned back to his real form.
"Right...I just...alright...sorry"
He approached and got to work, despite Shaun's underwhelming gratitude.
Constraints cut, Desmond stepped back. Shaun, probably learning from Lucy, did not stand immediately.
"Thank you, Desmond," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. Finally the recognition. "What I have to wonder is, how did you find us?"
Rebecca's voice immediately got their attention. She had arrived inside without them even noticing. The front guard was standing with her, unarmed, hands up.
"Our new friend! This sneaky little bastard was the one who slipped us the distress signal! He surrendered as soon as the gunfire started!"
What a surprise! Desmond was glad their plan had not involved killing him.
"Yes. Hello Assassins. My name is Ange Breault. I was the one...who sent the signal," he said in belabored English. "The Templars brought me here to help guard. But my...loyalties...have shifted. What they plan, it is evil. It is going too far."
"He sent you a distress signal!?" Lucy asked, tone worried. "Doesn't that mean the Templars know where we are!?"
"Calm down, Luce. I was using...look, it's complicated. I'll fill you in when we get back. The point is this guy saved your lives!"
Then her previously upbeat affect melted slightly. "Where's Claude?"
"He's dead," Lucy said. "He tried to escape."
There was an uncomfortable silence. Only the crickets outside spoke.
Shaun broke the silence.
"Mr. Breault, do you know about the Apple?"
"I had my...suspicions. I...put the pieces together. I ...can not let it happen."
"How much do you know?"
"Little, I'm afraid. But I know they are calling the site from which they will control the satellite...'Alpha Site.'"
That was a bombshell!
"Where is it?" Desmond asked immediately.
"I do not know. But one of the men who was here...this afternoon was sent there, to the 'Alpha Site'. I heard some mention of...an...illusionary rock...past a bridge, over a...I'm sorry, I do not know the word in English...un ruisseau."
"Illusionary rock?" Desmond repeated.
"Probably a hologram to conceal the entrance," Shaun speculated.
"Do the Templars...have holograms?"
"They could have anything at their disposal with their access to First Civilization technology," Shaun said. Then he asked Ange, "But you don't know where this headquarters is?"
"No, sir. Not...broadly. The man who left, I...believe his name was Rimbaud. He drove there. But I do not believe...he will be back anytime soon."
"Then let's gather up what we can and move out," Rebecca said.
"Welcome to the family, Ange."