The drive from the scene of their latest job to da Vinci's home was supposed to be simple and straightforward.
As Machiavelli had pointed out, they really shouldn't have counted on that. Ezio hadn't, of course, but even he had to admit that encountering a familiar, one-armed man standing in the middle of the road was not something he'd expected. Ezio wasn't sure what Malik wanted with him, but he had a pretty good idea. Carefully he pressed on the brakes, letting the car roll to a stop a good twenty feet away from Malik. He didn't believe the many, many, many varied rumors that Altaïr's right-hand-man was capable of inhuman feats, but he also wasn't going to risk being proven painfully wrong without a good reason for it.
Besides. The two might be from different families and working under different 'organizations', but they had known each other since Ezio was just a child. He had goo reason to worry that Malik would make him regret misbehaving.
"Wait here," Ezio murmured to Machiavelli. Then he threw the car into park, pushed open the driver's side door, and stepped out smiling and striding towards his rival's second-in-command. "Buonasera, Malik!" Malik didn't return the greeting, which Ezio had expected. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"No pleasantries tonight, Ezio." Malik's tone was clipped, business-like. Just faintly strained, Ezio thought. His smile melted away. "I'm here to deliver a message. That's it."
"In the middle of night." Ezio folded his arms and glanced around. "This far out of town."
"Of course." Malik strode towards Ezio. "No one will hear us here." When Ezio opened his mouth to retort, Malik made a short, slashing gesture with his right hand-- his only hand. "We have no time, Ezio. Listen to me." He leaned in close to Ezio and dropped the volume of his voice. "Rodrigo Borgia."
Ezio frowned. He'd heard of the man, heard of his connections, but... "What about him?"
"The list you stole from the man you killed tonight." Malik's expression and tone of voice were both pointedly neutral. Ezio didn't question how he knew what he and Machiavelli had been up to. "It will implicate Rodrigo Borgia." Malik hesitated. "Altaïr believes that the Borgia are part of something far greater than you are anticipating." And then Malik stepped back, leaving Ezio to give him a startled look. Malik had turned to leave by the time Ezio found his voice again.
"Wait!" Ezio took a step forward, reaching out. "Hold on. Why are you telling me this?" Silence. "Malik, why?"
Malik held his silence for several, impossibly long seconds. Ezio thought he wasn't going to say anything at all, but then: "We believe that our families' policy of mutual noninterference cannot continue." He looked over his shoulder at Ezio. "Tell your father of our meeting here. He will understand." And then Malik turned and strode away, waiting for no argument. Ezio offered none, and simply frowned after him.
But Malik abruptly stopped again and turned, his expression one of confusion. "One more thing, Ezio."
"Yes?"
"I saw a motorcyclist pass by here earlier. Did you really have a pizza delivered to you in the middle of a mission?"
To that Ezio could only blink, and then burst out into laughter.
Delivery - Part 1 (3/3)
The drive from the scene of their latest job to da Vinci's home was supposed to be simple and straightforward.
As Machiavelli had pointed out, they really shouldn't have counted on that. Ezio hadn't, of course, but even he had to admit that encountering a familiar, one-armed man standing in the middle of the road was not something he'd expected. Ezio wasn't sure what Malik wanted with him, but he had a pretty good idea. Carefully he pressed on the brakes, letting the car roll to a stop a good twenty feet away from Malik. He didn't believe the many, many, many varied rumors that Altaïr's right-hand-man was capable of inhuman feats, but he also wasn't going to risk being proven painfully wrong without a good reason for it.
Besides. The two might be from different families and working under different 'organizations', but they had known each other since Ezio was just a child. He had goo reason to worry that Malik would make him regret misbehaving.
"Wait here," Ezio murmured to Machiavelli. Then he threw the car into park, pushed open the driver's side door, and stepped out smiling and striding towards his rival's second-in-command. "Buonasera, Malik!" Malik didn't return the greeting, which Ezio had expected. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"No pleasantries tonight, Ezio." Malik's tone was clipped, business-like. Just faintly strained, Ezio thought. His smile melted away. "I'm here to deliver a message. That's it."
"In the middle of night." Ezio folded his arms and glanced around. "This far out of town."
"Of course." Malik strode towards Ezio. "No one will hear us here." When Ezio opened his mouth to retort, Malik made a short, slashing gesture with his right hand-- his only hand. "We have no time, Ezio. Listen to me." He leaned in close to Ezio and dropped the volume of his voice. "Rodrigo Borgia."
Ezio frowned. He'd heard of the man, heard of his connections, but... "What about him?"
"The list you stole from the man you killed tonight." Malik's expression and tone of voice were both pointedly neutral. Ezio didn't question how he knew what he and Machiavelli had been up to. "It will implicate Rodrigo Borgia." Malik hesitated. "Altaïr believes that the Borgia are part of something far greater than you are anticipating." And then Malik stepped back, leaving Ezio to give him a startled look. Malik had turned to leave by the time Ezio found his voice again.
"Wait!" Ezio took a step forward, reaching out. "Hold on. Why are you telling me this?" Silence. "Malik, why?"
Malik held his silence for several, impossibly long seconds. Ezio thought he wasn't going to say anything at all, but then: "We believe that our families' policy of mutual noninterference cannot continue." He looked over his shoulder at Ezio. "Tell your father of our meeting here. He will understand." And then Malik turned and strode away, waiting for no argument. Ezio offered none, and simply frowned after him.
But Malik abruptly stopped again and turned, his expression one of confusion. "One more thing, Ezio."
"Yes?"
"I saw a motorcyclist pass by here earlier. Did you really have a pizza delivered to you in the middle of a mission?"
To that Ezio could only blink, and then burst out into laughter.
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There we go! I hope you enjoy! ♥