Assassin's Creed: Join the Rooks

Run Away

Today, Bolton's group had to supervise the proper placement of cargo on the docks. While he was simply watching or directing some young recruits among the dockworkers where to place the crates, some Blighters were talking behind him. One of them began to speak more loudly so that he could hear him clearly. Everything about what he'd done was implied.

– If only I could have gone further...

Those last words and the sniggering that followed were too much. Fists clenched, angry and frustrated at not being able to smash their faces in, he walked away from the other Blighters. As for them, they were pleased to see his reaction. Then, on his way, he saw John, giving instructions to his colleague, who was still new.

– John, we absolutely have to go ahead tonight," he demanded, grabbing his shoulders.

– Oh, hey!" gasped the docker, freeing himself from his grip. What's the matter with you?

–  It's a matter of life and death. Please, my daughter and I have to leave, quickly!

– You know I can't.

At the end of his rope, anger overflowing his heart, he grabbed the docker by the collar, his fists clenched tightly.

– My daughter is in danger, for fuck's sake! So do whatever it takes to get us out of this mess by tonight! he ordered through clenched teeth.

– EH! Is everything OK here?" interrupted a Blighters.

The two men turned to face the man who had interrupted them. Bolton took a moment to gather himself and let go of the docker. 

– Yeah. He just didn't want to obey an order.

With these last words, he looked at John with big eyes, to tell him to find a solution. The other Blighters left, followed by Bolton and his accomplice, and they faced each other again.

– I'll be waiting here tonight with my daughter. If you're not there...

– You'll what? Are you going to kill me? Go ahead... if you've got the guts. I'm sick of working for those bastards who ruined my life.

Bolton didn't answer. He retraced his steps and went back to work. The two men went on with their day, both angry. But deep down, the former factory worker was praying to God — for once in his life — that he and his daughter would be able to escape London tonight.

For her part, Victoria barely dared to shout out the new titles. The knot in her stomach and the fear of seeing the same group of Blighters prevented her from raising her voice to attract attention and sell the day's edition. All she wanted was to make herself small, to disappear. She considered resigning, even giving up her job, without explanation.

Victoria couldn't sleep that night. Without having eaten anything, she just sat on the sofa, without moving, her eyes lost in emptiness, just like her thoughts. She didn't even realise that her father would be arriving soon. Or maybe she knew, but she didn't know.

BAM! Snapped out of her thoughts by the door, she saw Bolton storm into the main room. He was clearly in a hurry.

– Grab what you need and let's get out of here," he said, taking off that damned red jacket.

Victoria noticed. She couldn't understand what he was doing with that symbol of terror.

– What's going on, Dad?" she asked, her voice trembling as she stood up. What are you doing?

– I'll explain later. We're leaving right away.

Victoria didn't move, dazed to see her father running left and right, leaving a room and returning quickly. Bolton realised this. He stopped short and urged her to get her things. She jumped and complied. All she took was a portrait of her mother and a spare shirt and trousers, which she placed in an old bag.