April 12, 2022

"You know how to use one of those?" Pete ask Faith as he handed her the cell phone.

She responded with a resentful expression that made him smile. Annoying people was one of the few talents Peter had that he was extremely proficient in. He took pride in that. Irritating his half-sister was no exception. Faith looked so much like their father when she was peeved that it made the taunts worth it.

"The pass code is the year you were born," he continued. "You can change it if you know how. All the important numbers you need are already programmed into storage. That's mine, Dad's, Desmond's and Mom's."

Faith messed with the phone while Pete talked. They were seated at the table. Faith, Connor and Edward on one side. Jack, Desmond and himself on the other. Faith had taken the chair farthest from Jack. Pete thought she had done it on purpose. Connor, who was sitting beside his wife, leaned over enough to watch what she was doing. The device interested him, but he denied taking it when Faith offered.

She looked up at Pete. "Why is your contact name Lethal Protector?"

Pete shrugged. He didn't feel like explaining the reference to her. Besides, Jack would likely become irritated if he digressed too much. "Your number is on the back," he continued. "But don't give it to anyone. The phone's only as secure as you make it. Protocols can go so far to protect against stupidity. It's for emergencies only. No texting people who are in the same room with you."

Desmond scoffed. "You mean like you do."

Pete responded to that by sending a quick, one worded message to the other man. It was an insult, of course. Pete was surprised Desmond didn't punch him when he read it. He casually flipped Pete off instead, making it subtle enough that Jack didn't see it. Pete's father was not one to abide offensive behavior. Or bad language. That was part of the reason Pete cussed in front of him so much. He was rebellious by nature. Just like his mother.

"You'll be added to the training rotation starting tomorrow."

Faith looked up at him. "Training rotation?"

Since that had been Jack's idea, Pete let him explain. "Everyone of us has something to teach the others. Variety is the spice of life. We train in pairs, each of us three will work with each of you on unarmed, ranged and weapons combat. Everyone benefits."

Faith's displeasure was obvious. "Connor can handle all of my training himself."

Pete laughed. "You're kidding, right?"

This look was not tame or merely irate. Faith was mad at him for his reaction. Pete started to tell her why training with only one person was such a mistake, but Jack didn't give him a chance.

"We're a team, all of us. This is how we work."

"A team," Faith spoke, her voice tight, "implies trust."

Jack's tone was much the same as hers when he replied. "It does. And we will earn each other's trust. That includes you, Faith. That's what it means to be an Assassin."

"Faith is not an Assassin." Everyone looked at Connor. The Native stared back, not betraying any emotion on his blank face. "She has not been inducted into the Order. Nor is she adept enough in her skills to undergo initiation."

"Because you didn't train her properly," Jack told him.

Connor narrowed his eyes at the man, but said nothing.

"No, he didn't." Connor didn't look at Faith as she spoke. "Most of what I know came from Achilles. Connor only offered practical application of the lessons."

"That can be taken care of easily enough," Edward stated.

Connor only looked at his grandfather, a mixture of emotions on his face. It was against Connor's wishes for Faith to become an Assassin. He agreed with Jack that she had as much right to a place in the order as the rest of them, but he still maintained the opinion that she didn't have the conviction required to join. She was too undecided about her alliances. Connor saw that as a bad thing. Pete disagreed. He thought Faith's doubt would make her better than the rest of them. I had certainly helped him in the past.

"I have a question," Edward continued. "When do I get my own cell phone?"

Pete smiled at him. The pirate's instance that he have a part in everything was both amusing and scary. That Edward wasn't daunted by all the technology impressed the younger man. He wondered about the man's life. There was more to him than was contained in Abstergo's database. Since that was all they had to go on, Pete was forced to rely on instinct to judge Edward's validity. He had a knack for judging people's character. He felt certain he could trust the pirate.

"When you've mastered the microwave, Mr. Kenway," Jack answered.

Edward just nodded at that.

Faith got Connor's attention and whispered to him. "Rakshótha?"

"To:ka."

Pete had no idea what was said, but Desmond seemed to. He shook his head in reply. That prompted Connor to question the other man.

"Kanien'keha satati:ken:ne?"

"No," Desmond told him. "It just clicks when I hear it. It's the bleeding effect from all my time in the animus."

"What?" Faith ask.

Desmond started to explain, but Jack held up a hand. "That can wait. Back to training. I don't expect everyone to master everything, but you should all know how to stay alive." He looked at his daughter. "You will work with me first."

That really didn't make Faith happy. She didn't try to hide her contempt.

"Pete, you will start coming on Saturdays."

It was Pete's turn to be unhappy. "No way. I got better things to do."

"Such as?"

"Kayla." That elicited a glare from Jack. Having a girlfriend was not easy. Not with everything else going on in his life. That didn't matter to his father. Jack's priorities were unshakable; the Brotherhood, family then friends. Pete was meant to feel the same. He didn't. "Finals are coming up. I need time to study."

"Your GPA is 3.9," Jack replied. "You'll do fine."

Pete muttered a curse under his breath. Jack either didn't hear or chose to ignore it. "The playoffs start soon, too."

That was something Jack did care about. Pete had gotten his love of hockey from his father. They bonded over games, player analysis and critical conversations about penalties. It was one of the only things they shared. That and cars.

Jack conceded to allowing Pete to only participate half a day on Saturdays. "But only until the final game. After that, you suffer with the rest of us."

Pete nodded, satisfied.

Faith scoffed. "Nice to know what really matters to you."

"You're not a child, girl. Don't act like one."

"Don't start pretending to be a father now, Jack. You'll ruin your track record."

His jaw clinched in frustration. "I wasn't speaking as your father, but as your superior."

That made Faith laugh. "You're no one's superior." Before he could remark, she stood up and walked away. "I'm going to my room."

Pete could see his dad struggle to control his temper as as Faith's steps receded. He was staring into the distance, at nothing. Peter started to make a comment, but thought better of it. This was something he didn't want to be in the middle of. For once, he was not the focus of Jack's anger.

That didn't make him feel as good as he thought it would.

Jack looked at Connor. "Will you talk to your wife?"

Connor shook his head. There was a firm expression on his own face. "We must each fight our own battles. This one is yours." With that, he stood and followed after Faith.

Jack left, too. Going to the garage, where he always went when he was upset.

"Well, that was fun," Pete stated. "Can't wait to do it again."

Desmond chuckled. "Your sister…"

"I know," Pete replied. "I've been putting up with her all week. It's the Irish blood. Dad's the same way."

"Your father's accent isn't Irish," Edward said.

Pete shook his head. "The Irish woman was Clipper's wife. Grandma Josie was Austrian." He looked at the two men still in the room with him. "Anybody else want a cigarette as bad as me?"

All three stood and made their way outside. Smoking was not allowed in the building. Another of Jack's rules. It was implemented when he tried to quit a few months ago. It hadn't lasted long. It never did with Jack. Nicotine was his vice. One of them, anyway.

"How fucked up is it that my sister is married to your ancestor?" Pete ask Desmond as they sat on the crates and chairs littering the concrete square that served as a patio in the back yard.

Desmond shrugged. "Less fucked up than her not being my ancestor."

Edward studied the other man. "Does she know that?"

Desmond didn't know, he only shrugged again. Pete didn't correct him. Faith was smart. She had figured that out within a minute of receiving the information about Desmond. She was aware Connor remarried. It had bothered her at first. But she hadn't mentioned it since. What Pete really wondered is if Connor had already begun to move on. It was clear Faith hadn't. She only had memories of one year after their life together. Connor had four.

Relationships were difficult enough without such complexities added. Pete didn't envy his sister or his brother-in-law. He was only glad he wasn't in their place.