Shaun stared in horror at the picture in front of him. He examined it closely as if it where Photoshopped or something. He exhaled slowly and leaned back in the chair he had been using to sort through the stuff Lucy had finally thought to organize from Abstergo. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
Desmond did not look as if he were enjoying himself. Quite the opposite, Shaun was inclined to believe, as his eyes raked over the guard from Abstergo clearly molesting the boy—and he looked ready to die. The guard was more than enjoying himself as he felt Desmond up, his filthy hands running all over his body. He didn’t dare examine the guard closer.
Shaun couldn’t help but wonder if Desmond held a grudge. The man had gotten progressively worse about holding grudges for even the smallest things—and the team blamed it on Ezio and the Bleeding Effect. He was tempted to go ask him about the pictures and give him a hug, but the new assassin would probably rip him to pieces. He knew that Desmond still had pride and being treated like that would piss him off.
His eyes looked the picture over once more, and he looked toward the calendar. Desmond’s birthday was in a week. He’d have to act fast. He turned to look at Rebecca, who felt his stare immediately, and she pulled off her headphones and looked at him.
“Yeah?”
“Do you still have that working model of the rifle?”
“The one Desmond was interested in when we stumbled on an American Revolution memory glitch? Yeah, why?”
Shaun looked back at the picture. “I think I may need to use it.”
“What for?”
“Patience is a virtue, Rebecca.”
It was a week later before she found out, when Desmond went to go outside on his birthday. The rifle had mysteriously disappeared from her room, and when she confronted Shaun, the man dismissed it as if he hadn’t done it. Rebecca accompanied him for a breath of fresh air, and they were walking around the building, enjoying the night, when they saw Shaun’s back, he was leaning on something and staring at the skies.
“Shaun?” Desmond asked.
The man looked over his shoulder, pulling a cigarette out from between his lips and releasing the puff of air into the sky.
“Hello, Desmond.”
They both must have looked confused because Shaun straightened and turned to face them. He tapped the end of the cigarette and let the ash fall.
“Forgive my smoking habits. I felt particularly overwhelmed today with helping the team in Moscow, so I stole one from the pack Lucy confiscated from me all that time ago.”
“I didn’t know you smoked,” Desmond responded.
“There’s a lot you don’t know,” he said smugly as he stomped out his cigarette, and the new assassin looked ready to kill, “like the fact that I have a birthday present for you.”
“So you did take my model gun!” Rebecca shouted, and Shaun pulled it from behind him, where it had been stuck in the ground.
With a flashy show of footwork and gun wielding, he ended with a well-timed thrust, and centimeters from Desmond’s chest, the tip of a bayonet lightly poking his skin.
“Still interested in learning how to use it?”
Desmond looked impressed as Shaun met his gaze. He gave a smug grin. “Yeah. Show me how.”
Shaun nodded once and straightened, throwing the rifle to him. He caught it easily and mimicked how Shaun held it.
“Right, now, follow me.”
“I’ve got to see this,” Rebecca said. “How did you know how to use it?”
“I learned attending reenactments of old battles. They were some of my favorite things to go to as a child.”
They walked off a bit before coming upon wooden post with a dummy tied to it. There was a little light from the lantern sitting next to the post, enough to see a burlap sack over the head and the limp posture of the figure. Desmond snickered at the practice target.
“Actually,” Shaun began as he walked to the dummy and slapped it, hard, across the face, “it’s a present from both me and the team in New York.” The dummy stirred, and Desmond’s eyes grew wide. Rebecca was shocked. Shaun undid the sack over its head and pulled it off, and he could hear the snarl from the new assassin.
“I have an interesting fact for you three.”
All eyes were on Shaun, even that of their captive, who was bound and gagged. When he noticed Desmond, he trembled and tried to wiggle free.
Candy-Coated Hatred
Desmond did not look as if he were enjoying himself. Quite the opposite, Shaun was inclined to believe, as his eyes raked over the guard from Abstergo clearly molesting the boy—and he looked ready to die. The guard was more than enjoying himself as he felt Desmond up, his filthy hands running all over his body. He didn’t dare examine the guard closer.
Shaun couldn’t help but wonder if Desmond held a grudge. The man had gotten progressively worse about holding grudges for even the smallest things—and the team blamed it on Ezio and the Bleeding Effect. He was tempted to go ask him about the pictures and give him a hug, but the new assassin would probably rip him to pieces. He knew that Desmond still had pride and being treated like that would piss him off.
His eyes looked the picture over once more, and he looked toward the calendar. Desmond’s birthday was in a week. He’d have to act fast. He turned to look at Rebecca, who felt his stare immediately, and she pulled off her headphones and looked at him.
“Yeah?”
“Do you still have that working model of the rifle?”
“The one Desmond was interested in when we stumbled on an American Revolution memory glitch? Yeah, why?”
Shaun looked back at the picture. “I think I may need to use it.”
“What for?”
“Patience is a virtue, Rebecca.”
It was a week later before she found out, when Desmond went to go outside on his birthday. The rifle had mysteriously disappeared from her room, and when she confronted Shaun, the man dismissed it as if he hadn’t done it. Rebecca accompanied him for a breath of fresh air, and they were walking around the building, enjoying the night, when they saw Shaun’s back, he was leaning on something and staring at the skies.
“Shaun?” Desmond asked.
The man looked over his shoulder, pulling a cigarette out from between his lips and releasing the puff of air into the sky.
“Hello, Desmond.”
They both must have looked confused because Shaun straightened and turned to face them. He tapped the end of the cigarette and let the ash fall.
“Forgive my smoking habits. I felt particularly overwhelmed today with helping the team in Moscow, so I stole one from the pack Lucy confiscated from me all that time ago.”
“I didn’t know you smoked,” Desmond responded.
“There’s a lot you don’t know,” he said smugly as he stomped out his cigarette, and the new assassin looked ready to kill, “like the fact that I have a birthday present for you.”
“So you did take my model gun!” Rebecca shouted, and Shaun pulled it from behind him, where it had been stuck in the ground.
With a flashy show of footwork and gun wielding, he ended with a well-timed thrust, and centimeters from Desmond’s chest, the tip of a bayonet lightly poking his skin.
“Still interested in learning how to use it?”
Desmond looked impressed as Shaun met his gaze. He gave a smug grin.
“Yeah. Show me how.”
Shaun nodded once and straightened, throwing the rifle to him. He caught it easily and mimicked how Shaun held it.
“Right, now, follow me.”
“I’ve got to see this,” Rebecca said. “How did you know how to use it?”
“I learned attending reenactments of old battles. They were some of my favorite things to go to as a child.”
They walked off a bit before coming upon wooden post with a dummy tied to it. There was a little light from the lantern sitting next to the post, enough to see a burlap sack over the head and the limp posture of the figure. Desmond snickered at the practice target.
“Actually,” Shaun began as he walked to the dummy and slapped it, hard, across the face, “it’s a present from both me and the team in New York.”
The dummy stirred, and Desmond’s eyes grew wide. Rebecca was shocked. Shaun undid the sack over its head and pulled it off, and he could hear the snarl from the new assassin.
“I have an interesting fact for you three.”
All eyes were on Shaun, even that of their captive, who was bound and gagged. When he noticed Desmond, he trembled and tried to wiggle free.