Evie supports her brother's plan to remove the Templar presence from London however she begins to question his methods, worrying he's straying too far from the Creed. After all, the road to hell is often paved with good intentions. Retelling of Syndicate.
He curled his fingers into a fist as he drove it into his opponent's jaw. The man staggered backwards, hand resting on his injured chin, too shocked to even speak. Before the man could attempt to find a weapon of his own to defend himself with, he was pushed up against the counter, a steel blade at his vulnerable throat.
"Be gentle, Jacob," a woman said, features concealed by her hood. "We need this man alive."
Jacob loosened his grip on the man's shirt, but didn't remove the blade. "How many gangs are there? Seven? Three? Nine? More than ten?" he demanded.
His victim stared up at him with a defiant gaze, blood trailing down the right side of his mouth. "Why would I tell you?" he spat, pushing aside a loose strand of platinum blond hair away from his right eye. "You think you can be a hero by stopping us? Our leaders maintain the peace. Without us, there would be total chaos in the streets! Is that what you want? Chaos?" The man forced a sardonic laugh.
Jacob punched the man in the face again. The laughter ceased immediately. "There are people around here that aren't even getting paid, while there are others that have mountains of coin. Under Templar control, the difference between the poor and rich has never been greater." He pressed the blade up against the man's throat, but still not deep enough to cut the skin. He wanted to make the man squirm first.
"Steal from the rich and give to the poor. Still makes you a criminal," the man said. "You people claim to live by a set of moral rules yet here you are. I'm sure you've killed more people than I have, Assassin. Maybe you hate us so much because we remind you of the worst parts of yourself," he said, tone laced with distaste.
Jacob didn't waste another second. He drew his arm back as he plunged his hidden blade into the man's chest. A surprised gasp left the man's throat, but there was nothing he could do. Blood seeped through the white cloth he wore as Jacob withdrew his blade. Another man dead, and it was only the second day of the new week.
"Was that really necessary?" a man said from behind. "We could've used him for information."
Henry Green, a family friend, and a member of the fallen British Brotherhood. It was Henry who summoned them here to London to help out with the Templar problem, however he disproved of their methods. His preferred method of solving conflict was to discuss it with the opposing party. It was for that reason alone Evie had invited him to come along – she had hoped to use his diplomacy skills to obtain information from the Templar ally, yet Jacob had other ideas.
Withdrawing the hidden blade, Jacob turned around and shrugged. "He had nothing useful to say," he said, wiping off the blood on his coat. Henry looked to the woman, but she didn't say a word. With a sigh, Jacob added, "No need for the long face, Henry. We'll find someone else more willing to talk. I'm sure someone will give us the locations of the Templars we seek."
"Evie," Henry started, looking towards the woman.
She shrugged. "We will find someone else."
Jacob grinned. "See? Nothing to worry about. Now I'm heading home. See you both later." Pulling back his hood, he walked over to the nearby table, and grabbed his black top hat. When the deed was done, he needed to blend in with the rest of the people as to not draw suspicion to him. No one would suspect a thing.
He was aware that his sister was glaring at him, but he didn't stop to talk to her. He'd listen to her lecture later when he had a chance to clean up after today's events. She was angry – he could tell without even having to look at her – but he'd deal with her later. Right now he wanted to sit back and relax. Without saying another word, he exited the building.
Evie crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at the entrance of the bar. Seconds earlier, her brother had just walked out without even bothering to offer an explanation. As per usual, she was left behind to clean up his mess. She loved him dearly, but sometimes his actions caused more problems than solved. This was one of those times.
She turned her attention towards the corpse of a bartender now lying in a pool of blood on the floor. The man wasn't a Templar himself, but he did spend an awful amount of time walking down the same routes. She suspected he was a messenger for the Templar leaders, delivering messengers between the various factions. It was unfortunate her brother had killed him, but that's generally how he dealt with problems.
Fortunately, it was night. Midnight to be precise. The local townsfolk were fast asleep, and all the bars were closed in the district, meaning there'd be no stragglers walking around. Finding the Templar supporter had been easy – the man had exited from a nearby bar making him an easy target to disarm. Her brother had made short work of him – a punch in the stomach and a fist to the head, and the man was brought to the ground. Now they were here inside an abandoned bar with nothing but rats to keep them company.
"We'll have to remove the body. This bar might be abandoned but people, especially children, like to snoop around," Henry pointed out, moving to the opposite side of the man, glancing down with disappointment. "Now we'll have to find someone else."
If the man had been her victim she would've released him and tracked him. Unfortunately, her brother's inability to control his anger meant she had to think up of any other plan of finding the hideouts of the Templar leaders. "I'll keep a lookout tomorrow. Help me move the body please," she said, gesturing to the corpse on the floor. Henry was right – despite the place being abandoned, it didn't mean it was safe to hide bodies behind the broken barrels in the shadows.
Henry dropped to his knees and placed his hands beneath the man's arms. Evie grabbed the legs and together, the two Assassins lifted the body up from the floor. "We'll dump the body out the back, and I'll send some of me men to rid the body during the night when there are less people about."
Evie didn't like the idea of leaving a body in the sewers until nightfall, but who explored that area anyway? "All right." They carried the body out through the back door towards the sewer system to dispose of the body. A few rats scurried past along the cobblestones, but they were harmless. Once done, they covered the entrance with some garbage then headed back inside to clean up the remainder of the mess.
"You're going to have to keep an eye on him," Henry said, searching for a brush to scrub the floor with. "Your brother, that is. If this continues, the Templars will be the least of our problems."
He was referring to the police force. Their job was to patrol the streets and ensure the people were safe. So far, the police hadn't been a problem, but things could easily change. She glanced up from the floor. "You and I both know that my brother can't be controlled. He wants nothing more than to run wild on the streets." That made him a liability. Jacob had a knack for finding himself in difficult situations and seemed to thrive on it. Despite being raised as an Assassin, her brother cared little about stealth. In fact, he seemed to care little about the teachings of the brotherhood itself.
"I'll be back shortly. This mess isn't going to clean without water," Henry replied, turning his back to head to explore the kitchen area of the bar.
Evie glanced down at the fallen Templar ally and sighed once more. If only her brother had better self-control then they wouldn't be in this situation. But chaos made him happy, and he was happiest when he was right in the middle of the fight, using nothing else but his fists to gain the upper advantage. He had all the makings of being the perfect Assassin, better than herself in fact, but for whatever reason he simply didn't care. He lived by his own set of rules and guidelines and that made him dangerous.
Henry returned with two scrubbing brushes and a bucket of hot soapy water. "You are the only one he listens to, Evie. Your brother wishes to eliminate the Templar presence here in London." He lowered himself down to the floor and began to scrub away at the blood. Evie picked up the other brush, dunked it into the water and started scrubbing. Fortunately, the blood was still fresh.
"And he has my full support," Evie replied, dunking her brush into the water. Within moments, the water in the bucket had turned a dark red. She tapped the brush on the bucket's rim several times then continued to scrub away at the floor.
"You are but two people trying to take back control from multiple gangs of Templars. We don't even know how many of them there are out there yet," he advised, pausing briefly. She tilted her head to the side, an eyebrow raised. He cleared his throat and continued. "Your father taught you both well, but that alone won't help you win."
Evie scrubbed harder. "We'll find a way to gain the advantage." It would take a bit of time, but all legends started with nothing. All they needed was names of the faces of their enemies and the takeover would commence. "Assassins before our time managed to find a way to overcome the Templar Order – What makes you think we can't achieve the same results?"
"The Assassins failed before, Evie."
"Things are going to be different now. My brother and I are here."
Henry's expression remained neutral. "I wish I shared your optimism, but I don't see how it's possible. The Templar force is far too great and their influence is widespread. Merchants, carriage drivers, and the wealthy districts all support the Templar cause. By taking on the Templars, you are creating civil war."
She detected the bitterness in his tone. Although Henry had been their friend for over a decade now, he was still a mystery to her. He never spoke of his time during the peak years of the British Brotherhood – that topic was avoided at all costs. When someone brought it up, Henry would change the topic. Whatever had happened during that era must've left deep wounds. She didn't question him about it. He'd speak of it when the time was right and she would listen.
"The working class has suffered long enough. Something needs to be done."
He sighed. "I can see that you've made up your mind, and I won't be able to change that. I only ask that you remember the oath you swore when you became part of the Order, Evie. Stay your blade from the flesh of an innocent, hide in plain sight and be one with the crowd, and never compromise the Brotherhood."
She nodded. "I never break my promises, Henry. You have no reason to fear that I will stray from our Order's teachings."
"And your brother? You and I both know he pushes those boundaries. I fear to think what will happen if those boundaries are overstepped."
She paused then nodded again. "I'll keep a watchful eye on him."
There was silence until Henry spoke again. She knew he wasn't convinced, but she also knew when to drop the debate. "You should head home and speak to your brother. I'll clean up the rest of the mess here." She looked at him, an eyebrow raised. "Go on, Evie. I'll be fine. I'll let you know if I have any leads."
She climbed to her feet. "You know where to find me." Henry resumed scrubbing, and Evie headed towards the door, pulling her hood over her head.
Originally uploaded on archive of our own but then taken down in the same year Syndicate was released. I actually wrote and finished this story just a few weeks out from when the game was released. This story is basically what I would've liked to have seen in the games.