He was always nervous, with conversations like these. Of course, the call was secure, using the Assassins' own satellite and equipment - he had complete faith in Leonardo. But there was always the uneasy feeling that no system was impenetrable, no code unbreakable. Even those designed by the greatest engineer, cryptographer and inventor who ever lived.
"Ezio," said Niccolo Machiavelli, his voice as curt as ever. "It is as you said."
Ciro had loosened the zip at the back of Bianca's snug charcoal dress, to gain better access to her slim shoulders. Bianca lifted her long, white-blonde hair away from her neck, flipping it over her shoulder to hang down between her breasts.
"You found the girl?" Ezio said. "Will she help us get access?"
He looked back at the bed to see Bianca ease her shoulders out of her dress, revealing the straps of her black lace bra. Ezio cursed and looked instead out of the window. He was half-hard, his cock pushing the towel out in front of him.
"Don't you read the papers, Auditore? The Polizia found the girl overnight. She was hanging by her neck from her bedroom window."
"Merda!"
"So, we have no-one. I am calling it off. We must wait for another opportunity."
"No. We proceed. Do you know how old that girl was, Machiavelli? The things that were done to her?"
"Of course I do; but that has little bearing on our present circumstances."
Out of nowhere, Ezio's towel fell away from his waist, and he whirled to see Bianca twirling it. Realising he was completely naked, he turned his back. Bianca flicked his ass with a loud, stinging crack.
Furious, he reached to grab it off her, but she dodged out of his way to rejoin Ciro on his bed.
"It has every bearing on our circumstances, Machiavelli," Ezio said, fighting for calm. "If you can't think of a way to end this today, I will speak with La Volpe. He had some ideas."
Silence on the other end of the phone. He glanced at the bed, turning his head warily. Bianca and Ciro were kissing. Ciro had Bianca on her back, her long blonde hair fanned out on the crisp white sheets, her legs spread, charcoal dress riding up her thighs. He saw a hint of delicate lace panties and wondered, absurdly, if they matched the bra. He was now completely erect.
When this phone call was over, there would be hell to pay for these two. Leonardo da Vinci had been experimenting with a wrist-mounted dart gun made of plastic and glass - perhaps as punishment Ezio would make them carry the device through airport security.
[2].
"Ezio," said Niccolo Machiavelli, his voice as curt as ever. "It is as you said."
Ciro had loosened the zip at the back of Bianca's snug charcoal dress, to gain better access to her slim shoulders. Bianca lifted her long, white-blonde hair away from her neck, flipping it over her shoulder to hang down between her breasts.
"You found the girl?" Ezio said. "Will she help us get access?"
He looked back at the bed to see Bianca ease her shoulders out of her dress, revealing the straps of her black lace bra. Ezio cursed and looked instead out of the window. He was half-hard, his cock pushing the towel out in front of him.
"Don't you read the papers, Auditore? The Polizia found the girl overnight. She was hanging by her neck from her bedroom window."
"Merda!"
"So, we have no-one. I am calling it off. We must wait for another opportunity."
"No. We proceed. Do you know how old that girl was, Machiavelli? The things that were done to her?"
"Of course I do; but that has little bearing on our present circumstances."
Out of nowhere, Ezio's towel fell away from his waist, and he whirled to see Bianca twirling it. Realising he was completely naked, he turned his back. Bianca flicked his ass with a loud, stinging crack.
Furious, he reached to grab it off her, but she dodged out of his way to rejoin Ciro on his bed.
"It has every bearing on our circumstances, Machiavelli," Ezio said, fighting for calm. "If you can't think of a way to end this today, I will speak with La Volpe. He had some ideas."
Silence on the other end of the phone. He glanced at the bed, turning his head warily. Bianca and Ciro were kissing. Ciro had Bianca on her back, her long blonde hair fanned out on the crisp white sheets, her legs spread, charcoal dress riding up her thighs. He saw a hint of delicate lace panties and wondered, absurdly, if they matched the bra. He was now completely erect.
When this phone call was over, there would be hell to pay for these two. Leonardo da Vinci had been experimenting with a wrist-mounted dart gun made of plastic and glass - perhaps as punishment Ezio would make them carry the device through airport security.
"I may know a way," Machiavelli said. "Listen."