Assassin's Creed: Firewall

Reparations

There was a nearly tangible shift between the assassin and the cop. Emma wouldn't say they were friends or even understood each other better, but there was more of.....something. Begrudging respect maybe, a little more civility.

For her part, she could not say she hated him in any way. She couldn't even say she really disliked him anymore. Not that she'd forgotten the arrogance and haughtiness of when they'd first met, but she saw less and less of that man in the one riding in front of her. Whatever initial impressions he'd made were being overridden by his actions now. The shared Vision was an unexpected commonality between them, but even that was overshadowed by what he'd done.

Emma had known it was a lot to ask when she asked it, driven more by desperation than the belief that he would do it. But Altair had come through, he betrayed the leader of the Assassins, his master, to break her out and take her away from Masyaf. He'd spent the last months traveling the countryside to do jobs for that very master in order to redeem himself, to make up for breaking the rules before. Now he was doing it again, the ink barely dry on the reinstatement.

It was a debt she doubted she'd ever be able to repay.

Though Altair did not run the horse, he kept them at a brisk pace through long days. Emma didn't know if the assassins would come this far looking for her, but she could not help glancing over her shoulder throughout the day, ducking her head into Altair's back whenever another traveler passed them. Both mount and woman were exhausted at the push. Up before dawn and not stopping until well after dark, it seemed unlikely anyone would be able to catch up.

They stopped at a familiar place for him to exchange the horse for a fresh animal. Leaving her along the road, Emma resolved this time to wait where he had left her. Being alone again made her painfully aware of the number of travelers on this part of the road at midday. Though none were dressed as assassins or paid her any mind, she continually watched them with her Vision activated, pushing the new limits until a familiar pain began to build. Letting it go, she rubbed her eyes with a tired groan. No one would be looking for her this far, she had to stop being so paranoid.

A dust cloud on the horizon caught her attention. Horsemen coming fast from the direction they had come from. It was not the first time, probably wouldn't be the last. Small platoons of soldiers moved from town to town frequently. Given the size of Damascus, it was probably another group of those.

Still, better safe than sorry. Waiting until they were close enough to discern the men on the speeding horses' backs, she pushed her strained gaze once more.

White robes blazed red.

Assassins.

Cursing, she swung her bag onto her shoulders and ducked back into the trees. There was hardly any real cover there, not enough to hide from five Assassins if they chose to stop and look for her. Given the nearness of a large city, they just might. Swearing again, she hiked the robe up around her waist to free her legs and pulled herself up the sturdiest tree. The cover up in the branches was hardly better than what was on the ground, but she hoped they might be less likely to look up. At least the shadows of the leaves would hide her shape marginally better.

The horses snorted as they came to a halt next to the very spot Emma had just vacated, talking amongst themselves, apparently debating whether to continue on or turn towards the city. One rider split off and doubled back the way they had come, the other four continued talking amongst themselves. A figure walked towards them from the city: Altair with a fresh horse, mastering his expression to hide any surprise and convey only annoyance.

Though they were all equal height on their horses, Altair somehow managed to make all of them appear smaller than him. He was playing up his old reputation, Emma realized, snorting in derisment as they asked a question, responding with the old arrogance that once laced his tone. They were speaking Arabic, but even Emma could hear in his reply that he was assuming their ineptitude.