AC Syndicate: Isolated Files [OS]

French Kid

Disclaimer: This is a chapter from a French fanfiction by a friend Victor Decrombecque where my dear Victoria Reid appears. I write it from her point of view. By the way, Aramis Belcourt will not appear in Assassin's Creed: Blackbird, nor in its alternative version. Some details will be changed. 

____________________

London, 28 June 1880

It was getting late, and it was time for Victoria to return home after a courtesy visit to her friend and ex-lover, Jacob Frye. It had been good for her to talk about things. They had had so little occasion to see each other outside of the missions. He was so busy with the initiates and his role as a father. Things hadn't been easy for him since his wife died on a mission to the Continent. And tonight he'd known he could count on Victoria if he needed help. After greeting each other cordially, the brunette left her mentor's flat.

Wanting to get some fresh air, Victoria went through the rooftops to get to her house. And it had to be said that it would be a quicker way to get home, in the Whitechapel district. She lived at the north-eastern end of the borough, whereas Jacob lived in the centre. On her way, after using her rope-launcher to get to the next roof, she allowed herself a break. It was then that she heard a man's voice, several of them, one of which seemed to be French... Instinctively, she approached the edge of the roof and crouched down, hood on her head. She looked down at the street below.

"Wait a minute" asked one of the men. "You talk a smart game, don't you? You're not from here?"

"No, I'm from France," replied the other with a touch of pride in his voice.

The brunette raised an eyebrow and smiled without taking her eyes off the Frenchman. It would have made a point if guessing where he was from was going to be a game. She shook her head slightly to erase her air of satisfaction and concentrate again on what was happening.

"Oh, look guys! A Frenchman!" exclaimed the individual whom Victoria seemed to recognise. "It's so rare to see someone mastering our language," he complimented mockingly, turning to his companions.

"If you don't mind, gentlemen, I'd like to leave. I'm busy."

The one who was bothering the Frenchman pretended to be surprised and disappointed by his haste. He even feigned to be offended, holding his hand over his heart.

"But why, my friend," he asked falsely sad. "We've only just met," he said, his arms wide open as if inviting her to a hug. "By the way," he continued, "what is that chain on your jacket? (he pointed with the tip of his cane to what he was looking at) Is it something very valuable?"

"Well, well, well..." Victoria muttered as the Frenchman sarcastically refused to answer the question. "It's been a long time since I've seen that weasel Murfee the Gash."

"I want to see!" he demanded, raising his voice."

With a wave of his hand and calling for one of his men, Murfee the Gash ordered the object hidden in the jacket to be taken by force. Then a fight broke out. The brunette wanted to intervene immediately, she even sprang the blade from her gauntlet, but she did nothing. Indeed, she saw that the young man was able to defend himself, and rather well. It even reminded her of the time when she was part of the Rooks. But the Frenchman ended up weakening. He was even caught by the throat as if he was nothing and was thrown violently against a wall. The young man could not recover so easily from such a shock. It was a wonder he was still moving. The rascal approached him, ready to deliver the coup de grace. It was time for Victoria to act as the youngster tried to drag himself to the ground to back away, in the vain hope of escaping him.