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November 1, 2014; Indianapolis, Indiana

It was a while since I heard from Angie and Chelsea. Mainly because Chelsea had finally had her baby on October 12th of that year. She and Angie were pretty much scrambling to get everything in order, so their hands were pretty full for a few weeks. But on that day in November, I got a call from Chelsea, asking for me to meet her at the Assassin warehouse. So, I hopped on the Cardinal and drove straight there. And sure enough, as I entered one of the hideout living rooms, there was my cousin.

“Hey, squirt!” she said.

“Sup dweeb?” I joked.

“Congrats!”

“For what?”

“For actually getting Natasha Wolfgang to start running scared.”

I smiled. “Oh really?” I said.

“Yep. She's losing all her manpower, and now her little protective bubble is starting to fall apart. All thanks to you.”

“And you. I couldn't have done anything without you, Chels.” I always feel bad about receiving compliments. I always feel like I've done nothing to deserve them. Still, I smile and say thanks when I receive the kind words.

“Ah, you're too modest,” she joked. I smiled and shrugged.

“So, what's our next step, then?” I asked. “If the Templars are on the run, then we'd better find a way to trip them to the ground.” Chelsea nodded and motioned for me to follow. She led me to a computer. She sat down and pulled up the Internet.

“We've been looking into those names you gave us,” she said. “Valerie Michaels and this Dr. Cassidy chick. We haven't found much on Cassidy yet, but we found out a lot about Michaels after we hacked Abstergo's servers.”

“What did you find?” I asked.

“Apparently, Michaels is a Templar, and she's their main puppet when it comes to all things religion. Or, at least, church-wise. She pretty much runs every church in the city, even if the churches don't realize it. She's using her preachings to get people to follow her, and in turn, the Templars.”

“Alright. Let's track her down, dig up some sabotage, and but a bullet in her brain.”

“One problem…”

“What?”

“We've been trying to dig up some sabotage on her, and we've got none. She's a Templar; that's an obvious negative. But that's all we got, and we can't exactly just let that out.”

“There has to be something.”

Chelsea shook her head. “Nope,” she said. “Grant it, her manner of preaching’s kinda the ‘fire-and-brimstone’ type, but we can't really kill her for that.”

I thought for a moment, and suddenly I got an idea. “What if we use that against her?” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“You've heard of Maximilien de Robespierre right?”

“Wasn't he a French Templar during the French Revolution or something?”

“Yep. Templar puppet. Grew very power hungry, and pretty much asserted himself as a god by the end of the Revolution. Now, one of our men and his girlfriend had to take him down. The people were already anxious about Robespierre, and it only took a bit of a push to make him seem like a fanatic lunatic. A bit of blackmail, a bit of a drugged drink, and the people turned on the Templar faster than snow melts in April.”

“And you think we should do the same with Michaels?”

“I do.” Chelsea thought about it for a second, and then shrugged. “Eh. Sounds like a plan to me,” she said. She stood from her chair. “We know where she's gonna be tomorrow morning. Want me to help you sabotage her public opinion?”

I smiled. “Definitely.” She smiled back. “Alright,” she said. “Let's go plan this out.”

------------

November 2, 2014; Indianapolis, Indiana

The following morning, we woke up early and headed for the Christ Church Cathedral downtown, where Michaels was going to preach at later that Sunday morning. Chelsea and I snuck around the back and entered the building. We quickly climbed the tall walls and hid up in the scaffolding. The place was empty, save for a few random workers that would occasionally pop in and out. But soon enough, Valerie Michaels walked in, all dressed up. And to our surprise, Natasha Wolfgang was following right behind her.

“I'm doing my best, Grand Master,” said Michaels. Wolfgang was clearly on her toes. She seemed much less composed than normal. I guess Chelsea was right. She was starting to watch her back.

“Well, you need to do more,” said Wolfgang. “I need every Templar we have to perform to the max until we can get replacements for the ones we've lost.”

“What would you have me do?” asked Michaels.

“How should I know? Preachy stuff! I don't know. Just keep ensuring that the people are under our control. That's your job.”

“With respect, Grand Master, my job is the Lord's job. Preaching is meant to scare people away from the pits of hell when they've disobeyed the Lord's word.”

This is part of the reason why I stepped away from organized religion. So many preachers I've seen focus too much on avoiding hell and not aspiring to heaven. It doesn't matter to me what religion you're a part of. By all means, believe in whatever faith you wish. But damnation should never be the main focus of it. And you should certainly never use it as a tool to lift yourself above others.

“I don't care what you call it, Michaels,” said Wolfgang. “Just make sure it's done! I will not allow the Assassins to make a mockery of us!”

“Grand Master, you're not saying that you believe the Assassins could actually stop us, are you?”

There was a slight, almost unnoticeable pause. But I did notice it, and it was filled with doubt.

“No,” said Wolfgang. “Of course not. Just shut up and do your job.” She started to turn and leave. “Oh, and if Trina comes by with her angel armor crap, just entertain her. God knows I'm sick of doing it.” Before Michaels could even respond, Wolfgang was already out the door. Chelsea looked at me. I shrugged. Michaels bit her lip and moved on to another room. Chelsea and I were alone again on the scaffolding.

“Alright,” she whispered to me. “We'd better get to work before this place gets filled with people. You remember the plan?”

“I'll go and find some sensitive info in her office while you drug her drink,” I said. Chelsea nodded.

“Alright. Cool. Let's get to work.” I nodded, and we started making our way off the scaffolding back down to the ground. With one last look at each other, Chelsea and I split up, silent as cats, and we set out to get the job done.

It didn't take long to find Michaels’s office. The door was slightly ajar, so I peaked in first to make sure no one was in there. When I was sure that I was in the clear, I slipped inside, and got to work on finding some sort of sabotage. I quickly rummaged through her drawers and filing cabinets, glancing over every scrap of paper I saw to find something to use against her. At first, I didn't find much. I mostly just found some random letters, business documents, and a bunch of old receipts. But soon I found something, and I smiled.

I had found a list of names written in Michaels’s handwriting. A list of names of several people (mostly my fellow Assassins and our allies) that she deemed “enemies of the church”. Paperclipped to that was a letter to Natasha Wolfgang herself asking to send some agents to eliminate these so called “enemies of the church”. I stowed those in my bag and kept looking for some more documents. Sure enough, I found a few more, and the majority of them had a clear indication that Michaels’s schemes were connected with Abstergo and Wolfgang. Perfect.

I stowed those away too and made my way to the door. I froze, however, when I heard voices from outside in the halls. I quietly peaked out the crack in the door to see the source. There were two men in suits down the hall, their backs facing me. I could tell that they were workers at the church based on their attire, but their words told me that they weren't Templars.

“I'm telling you, Joe, I don't think Valerie is a proper choice for this job,” said one of them.

“I know, Stan,” said the other, “but honestly, there's not much we can do.”

“She focuses more on hell than heaven.”

“I know.”

“She almost seems to think that her role is more important than God's.”

“I know, Stan.”

“We have to do something.”

“I know, but we really can't do anything. We've got nothing really to go against her with. Yeah, she's arrogant, yeah she's obnoxious, yeah I think she's got some secrets, but until we have something solid to hold against her, she's gonna stay in whatever position she puts herself in.”

I smiled. They'd have their sabotage soon enough. I pulled the papers out of my bag and silently exited the room. I sneaked behind the two and swiftly slid the documents into their bags. Then I quietly darted away, undetected by the two. By the time I got back to the main room of the church, people were starting to fill the space. I blended with the crowds as I made my way back to the scaffolding, which I quickly climbed. Near the ceiling and out of sight, I regrouped with Chelsea.

“Did you find anything?” she asked.

“Yep,” I said. “And I snuck it into the bags of some people who can get Michaels out of her current role.”

“Awesome.”

“Did you drug her drink?”

“Yep. Only a matter of time before she starts hallucinating and flipping out.”

“Cool.” I leaned against the wall, watching the scene below. As people were coming in and some background music started to play, I saw the two workers from before. They apparently found the documents and were already freaking out about them to each other. Soon, Michaels entered the room and started preparing her podium. She already looked a little pale.

“Ready to see the fireworks?” Chelsea joked.

I quietly laughed. “Yep,” I said.

Soon enough, the room went quiet and Michaels started preaching. And wow. She definitely was all about damnation.

“We must all cleanse ourselves before the devil regains his hold,” she said at one point during her speech. “We must all follow my lead, for through the Lord's word, I shall turn you from hell and it's demons. If you don't head what I say, than surely fire and brimstone will await you.”

I could tell even from my vantage point that the crowd was uncomfortable. Michaels stuttered a bit as Chelsea’s drug started working a bit more.

“If you'll hear me as I speak the Lord's word…” said Michaels, “you'll all be safe from the enemies of the church. These enemies will be vanquished. They… They will burn and we shall be heroes, just like Jacques de Molay and his crusaders were centuries ago…”

She was starting to sweat. “They… We…” she stuttered. Suddenly, one of the workers from before stepped forward. Michaels looked at him. “Er… Yes?” she said.

“If I could ask, Valerie, who are these ‘enemies of the church’?” said the worker, a hint of accusation in his voice. Michaels looked at him. “W- Well, the agents of Lucifer, obviously!” she said. “The… the fallen angels and… and… the demons… and…”

“So not the people on this list?” The worker pulled out the hit-list and held it up. Michaels’s eyes widened. She was starting to loose her balance a bit. “Where did you get that?” she stuttered.

“It says here, in your handwriting,” said the worker, “that you have a connection to Abstergo Industries, and that you're using that connection to set up murders of the people on this list.”

“I… I… Well…”

“And it seems like you've been abusing your role as preacher for your personal gain,” said the other worker, who stepped forward as well.

“I don't…” stuttered Michaels.

“Is it true, Valerie?”

Michaels stated silently, at a loss for words. Even if she did have an excuse, the drug clearly took it away. She turned to her audience, who was already murmuring about their distaste for the Templar.

“I… You can't… We…” she stuttered again. “I do what I must to keep order…” The crowd started getting restless after hearing that vague confession. She looked like she was about to say more, but suddenly she froze and started to shake. She stared at the crowd as if they were a bunch of hungry rabid lions. She stumbled backwards a bit.

“Oh God…” she squeaked. She looked all around, at everyone, terrified.

“Here we go,” said Chelsea.

“Get… Get back!” she said as she stumbled back. Suddenly, she grabbed a candle and started waving it frantically. Chelsea and I started getting concerned. Something wasn't right.

Michaels waved it around. The workers tried to keep their distance. Suddenly, Michaels yelled, “I said get back!” and threw the candle on the wooden floor. The flames kicked up, slowly but surely. And the crowd gasped. Michaels grabbed another and did the same. She grabbed another, but some security guards had come in and grabbed her before she could throw it. She wrestled to get free as people started putting the flames out before it became uncontrollable.

“No!” screamed Michaels. “Get away! I won't let you demons take me! Get away you monsters!” Suddenly, she managed to elbow one of the guards and punch the other. They let go and she sprinted the the crowd, who moved away in terror from the mad woman. Suddenly, she looked up in mine and Chelsea’s general direction, though I don't think she actually saw us.

“No!” she yelled. “Get away you winged freaks! I know your tricks! You're not angels of the Lord! You're demons, I know it!” Suddenly, she darted to the exit. The security guards went after her. The crowd below was murmuring and scattering a bit. I looked at Chelsea.

“Good God, Chels, what did you put in her drink?” I said.

“Powdered ergot,” she said. “It’s what they used in the Robespierre case. Guess I used a bit too much.”

“Ya think?”

“Come on, let's go after her.” I nodded and we started freerunning to the exit as the workers and guards tried to calm the crowd down.

Once we made it out of the church, we saw the security guards. They'd lost Michaels. Chelsea swore under her breath. She motioned for me to follow and we did a quick sweep of the area. And our target was nowhere to be found.

“Damn,” said Chelsea.

“We'll get her,” I said, never willing to give up.

“She could be anywhere in the city by now.”

“Then we'll just have to look until we find her.”

Chelsea looked at me. Despite how annoyed she was, she couldn't help but smile at my optimism. She sighed. “Yeah,” she said. “I guess so.” I nodded and we both left the area. We had an insane preacher on the loose. We had to find her fast.

------------

November 8, 2014; Indianapolis, Indiana

I got a call from Chelsea the following Saturday night. I picked up the phone and I heard gunshots going off in the background, as well as police sirens.

“Carter! Get down here! Hurry!” Chelsea yelled into the phone. I was already grabbing my weapons and pulling on my Assassin hood.

“Where are you, Chels?” I asked.

“Monument Circle downtown. The Soldiers and Sailors Monument. Hurry!”

“On my way!”

We hung up and I darted out of my apartment. I hopped on the Cardinal, revved the engines and took off.

Pretty soon, I made it downtown. I arrived near the Circle and hopped off the bike. There were police cars all around the Soldiers and Sailors Monument, shouting orders at each other.

I found Chelsea pretty quickly.

“What's going on?” I asked.

“Our target,” she said. Suddenly, a shotgun shot whizzed past us and we instinctively ducked. We got behind a police car. I peaked out and looked at the top of the Monument. My eyes widened as I caught sight of none other than Valerie Michaels. She was up on top of the observation deck, waving a shotgun in one hand and a crucifix in the other. Crap.

She started firing again and everyone ducked. She stopped to reload. Suddenly, Henry Grayson came rushing up to me and Chelsea.

“Please tell me you two know what to do!” he said frantically. I looked up at the enormous structure, taking in the environment and forming a plan of attack.

“I'm gonna have to get in close,” I said.

“What?” said Henry and Chelsea.

“She's too far to shoot from here. The only way to take her out is to get in close. I'll climb up the back of the monument and sneak up to assassinate her.”

“That's really risky, Carter,” said Chelsea.

“It’s our only chance!”

“But…”

“Do you have a better plan?”

“...No.”

“Trust me, Chels. I know what I'm doing.” I gave her a pleading look. She looked back at me and then sighed. “Alright,” she said. “I trust you, squirt. Go get ‘em.” I smiled at her. She smiled back. Michaels let off another round of shots. Once she stopped to reload, I bolted over the police car and started running to the monument.

“Cover me!” I said as I ran. They nodded and pulled out their guns. They wouldn't be able to hit Michaels, but they would definitely be able to distract her.

I made it to the base of the almost 290 foot monument, and started my climb. I worked my way around the back, behind Michaels’s position. I climbed all the statues attached to the structure. My foot slipped when I reached the base of the spire, but I quickly regained my balance. As I climbed, I heard Michaels let off a few more shots. I kept going higher and higher, until eventually, I made it to the top. I worked my way around the giant statue at the top, and I leaned over the edge like a bird on its perch. I looked down at the observation deck, and there was Michaels. She was rambling some form of prayer or something. Something about angels and demons and Jacques de Molay. I don't know. The important part was that she hadn't seen me. And I used that opportunity to end this.

I flicked out my hidden blade, and I leapt down like an eagle diving for prey. I landed on top of Michaels and knocked her to the ground. She didn't have time to react before I drove my blade into her shoulder. Her shotgun slid out of her hand, but her cross stayed on with a little necklace string.

I knelt beside her and rolled her over to look in her eyes. Her eyes were already dead-looking, but she herself still had a flake of life. She looked at me with her glazed eyes.

“You… the angel to death…” she mumbled, still delusional.

“I'm no angel,” I said, with respect for the dead in my voice. “I'm only human, just like all of us.”

“You've come to take me to heaven…”

“...In a way, I suppose.”

“How will I be judged?”

This was making me really uncomfortable, I'm not gonna lie. “Not my place to say. I'm sorry,” was all I could think to say. I figured I should talk religiously to her, give her the feeling that her god had a part to play here. “That's the Lord's role, not mine,” I said.

“How do you judge me?”

I had to think about my response. I swallowed uncomfortably. “You were faithful, but your faith was misguided,” I said eventually. “You thought that you had to use the Lord's word to scare people into your control.”

“But I could've brought order…”

“Order spawns from freedom. It spawns from people interpreting their views of the world as they see it. People must be allowed to decide what ‘truth’ is for themselves.”

“But all these differing views… all these different outlooks… it leads to chaos…”

“It leads to disagreement. You confuse the two. The world isn't going to blow up because people disagree about a topic. Different opinions lead to different outlooks, different viewpoints, but not chaos and terror as you seem to think.”

The life was draining out of her. “Maybe when I move on to the next life… then I'll finally know which one of us is correct…”

I paused. “I suppose so,” I said. And with that, Michaels was dead. I closed her eyes and put her cross on her chest. I pulled out another eagle-patterned post-it note and placed it on her body.

“Absolute truth could only be known by God,” I said. “Man must learn for himself what the world is truly like. Rest in peace.” I paused. And with that, I stood. The elevator had been busted by Michaels, so I had to climb back down to ground level. As soon as I made it back down, I met up with Chelsea and Henry.

“It’s done,” I said. “The Templars lost another pawn.”

“And we're one step closer to winning back Indianapolis!” said Chelsea. I smiled.

“Yep!” I said, still kinda uncomfortable from talking to a dying lunatic.

“I suppose I'm gonna have to clean up your mess again?” said Henry. Chelsea and I smiled apologetically at him. He rolled his eyes. “Of course,” he said. “Well, you two had better hurry off before too many people show up.”

We nodded. We said goodbye to Henry and then left the Circle.

“So,” I said. “What now?”

“Well, I guess now we'd better start digging deep to find out who this Dr. Cassidy chick is and what she's doing for the Templars.”

“You haven't found anything yet?”

“No. Whatever she's up to, the Templars have it under lock and key. It's gotten a bit easier when you took out Harrion and they couldn't cover their hides as well, but they've got a new head lawyer. Grant it, from what he can tell, he's not the biggest fan of the Templars’ plots, but he's still an obstacle.”

“What's his name?”

“Stanley Carraway.”

Stanley Carraway. I made sure to memorize that name for later.

“Well, I guess we'll just have to start digging,” I said.

“Guess so. I'll phone up one of our agents, Rebecca Crane. She's in France right now, but I'm sure she can lend some helpful hacking tips to us.”

I nodded. Soon, we made it to our respective vehicles. We said our goodbyes, revved up our engines, and drove off to our homes. We had a new mission.

Description
November 1, 2014; Indianapolis, Indiana

It was a while since I heard from Angie and Chelsea. Mainly because Chelsea had finally had her baby on October 12th of that year. She and Angie were pretty much scrambling to get everything in order, so their hands were pretty full for a few weeks. But on that day in November, I got a call from Chelsea, asking for me to meet her at the Assassin warehouse. So, I hopped on the Cardinal and drove straight there. And sure enough, as I entered one of the hideout living rooms, there was my cousin.

“Hey, squirt!” she said.

“Sup dweeb?” I joked.

“Congrats!”

“For what?”

“For actually getting Natasha Wolfgang to start running scared.”

I smiled. “Oh really?” I said.

“Yep. She's losing all her manpower, and now her little protective bubble is starting to fall apart. All thanks to you.”

“And you. I couldn't have done anything without you, Chels.” I always feel bad about receiving compliments. I always feel like I've done nothing to deserve them. Still, I smile and say thanks when I receive the kind words.

“Ah, you're too modest,” she joked. I smiled and shrugged.

“So, what's our next step, then?” I asked. “If the Templars are on the run, then we'd better find a way to trip them to the ground.” Chelsea nodded and motioned for me to follow. She led me to a computer. She sat down and pulled up the Internet.

“We've been looking into those names you gave us,” she said. “Valerie Michaels and this Dr. Cassidy chick. We haven't found much on Cassidy yet, but we found out a lot about Michaels after we hacked Abstergo's servers.”

“What did you find?” I asked.

“Apparently, Michaels is a Templar, and she's their main puppet when it comes to all things religion. Or, at least, church-wise. She pretty much runs every church in the city, even if the churches don't realize it. She's using her preachings to get people to follow her, and in turn, the Templars.”

“Alright. Let's track her down, dig up some sabotage, and but a bullet in her brain.”

“One problem…”

“What?”

“We've been trying to dig up some sabotage on her, and we've got none. She's a Templar; that's an obvious negative. But that's all we got, and we can't exactly just let that out.”

“There has to be something.”

Chelsea shook her head. “Nope,” she said. “Grant it, her manner of preaching’s kinda the ‘fire-and-brimstone’ type, but we can't really kill her for that.”

I thought for a moment, and suddenly I got an idea. “What if we use that against her?” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“You've heard of Maximilien de Robespierre right?”

“Wasn't he a French Templar during the French Revolution or something?”

“Yep. Templar puppet. Grew very power hungry, and pretty much asserted himself as a god by the end of the Revolution. Now, one of our men and his girlfriend had to take him down. The people were already anxious about Robespierre, and it only took a bit of a push to make him seem like a fanatic lunatic. A bit of blackmail, a bit of a drugged drink, and the people turned on the Templar faster than snow melts in April.”

“And you think we should do the same with Michaels?”

“I do.” Chelsea thought about it for a second, and then shrugged. “Eh. Sounds like a plan to me,” she said. She stood from her chair. “We know where she's gonna be tomorrow morning. Want me to help you sabotage her public opinion?”

I smiled. “Definitely.” She smiled back. “Alright,” she said. “Let's go plan this out.”

------------

November 2, 2014; Indianapolis, Indiana

The following morning, we woke up early and headed for the Christ Church Cathedral downtown, where Michaels was going to preach at later that Sunday morning. Chelsea and I snuck around the back and entered the building. We quickly climbed the tall walls and hid up in the scaffolding. The place was empty, save for a few random workers that would occasionally pop in and out. But soon enough, Valerie Michaels walked in, all dressed up. And to our surprise, Natasha Wolfgang was following right behind her.

“I'm doing my best, Grand Master,” said Michaels. Wolfgang was clearly on her toes. She seemed much less composed than normal. I guess Chelsea was right. She was starting to watch her back.

“Well, you need to do more,” said Wolfgang. “I need every Templar we have to perform to the max until we can get replacements for the ones we've lost.”

“What would you have me do?” asked Michaels.

“How should I know? Preachy stuff! I don't know. Just keep ensuring that the people are under our control. That's your job.”

“With respect, Grand Master, my job is the Lord's job. Preaching is meant to scare people away from the pits of hell when they've disobeyed the Lord's word.”

This is part of the reason why I stepped away from organized religion. So many preachers I've seen focus too much on avoiding hell and not aspiring to heaven. It doesn't matter to me what religion you're a part of. By all means, believe in whatever faith you wish. But damnation should never be the main focus of it. And you should certainly never use it as a tool to lift yourself above others.

“I don't care what you call it, Michaels,” said Wolfgang. “Just make sure it's done! I will not allow the Assassins to make a mockery of us!”

“Grand Master, you're not saying that you believe the Assassins could actually stop us, are you?”

There was a slight, almost unnoticeable pause. But I did notice it, and it was filled with doubt.

“No,” said Wolfgang. “Of course not. Just shut up and do your job.” She started to turn and leave. “Oh, and if Trina comes by with her angel armor crap, just entertain her. God knows I'm sick of doing it.” Before Michaels could even respond, Wolfgang was already out the door. Chelsea looked at me. I shrugged. Michaels bit her lip and moved on to another room. Chelsea and I were alone again on the scaffolding.

“Alright,” she whispered to me. “We'd better get to work before this place gets filled with people. You remember the plan?”

“I'll go and find some sensitive info in her office while you drug her drink,” I said. Chelsea nodded.

“Alright. Cool. Let's get to work.” I nodded, and we started making our way off the scaffolding back down to the ground. With one last look at each other, Chelsea and I split up, silent as cats, and we set out to get the job done.

It didn't take long to find Michaels’s office. The door was slightly ajar, so I peaked in first to make sure no one was in there. When I was sure that I was in the clear, I slipped inside, and got to work on finding some sort of sabotage. I quickly rummaged through her drawers and filing cabinets, glancing over every scrap of paper I saw to find something to use against her. At first, I didn't find much. I mostly just found some random letters, business documents, and a bunch of old receipts. But soon I found something, and I smiled.

I had found a list of names written in Michaels’s handwriting. A list of names of several people (mostly my fellow Assassins and our allies) that she deemed “enemies of the church”. Paperclipped to that was a letter to Natasha Wolfgang herself asking to send some agents to eliminate these so called “enemies of the church”. I stowed those in my bag and kept looking for some more documents. Sure enough, I found a few more, and the majority of them had a clear indication that Michaels’s schemes were connected with Abstergo and Wolfgang. Perfect.

I stowed those away too and made my way to the door. I froze, however, when I heard voices from outside in the halls. I quietly peaked out the crack in the door to see the source. There were two men in suits down the hall, their backs facing me. I could tell that they were workers at the church based on their attire, but their words told me that they weren't Templars.

“I'm telling you, Joe, I don't think Valerie is a proper choice for this job,” said one of them.

“I know, Stan,” said the other, “but honestly, there's not much we can do.”

“She focuses more on hell than heaven.”

“I know.”

“She almost seems to think that her role is more important than God's.”

“I know, Stan.”

“We have to do something.”

“I know, but we really can't do anything. We've got nothing really to go against her with. Yeah, she's arrogant, yeah she's obnoxious, yeah I think she's got some secrets, but until we have something solid to hold against her, she's gonna stay in whatever position she puts herself in.”

I smiled. They'd have their sabotage soon enough. I pulled the papers out of my bag and silently exited the room. I sneaked behind the two and swiftly slid the documents into their bags. Then I quietly darted away, undetected by the two. By the time I got back to the main room of the church, people were starting to fill the space. I blended with the crowds as I made my way back to the scaffolding, which I quickly climbed. Near the ceiling and out of sight, I regrouped with Chelsea.

“Did you find anything?” she asked.

“Yep,” I said. “And I snuck it into the bags of some people who can get Michaels out of her current role.”

“Awesome.”

“Did you drug her drink?”

“Yep. Only a matter of time before she starts hallucinating and flipping out.”

“Cool.” I leaned against the wall, watching the scene below. As people were coming in and some background music started to play, I saw the two workers from before. They apparently found the documents and were already freaking out about them to each other. Soon, Michaels entered the room and started preparing her podium. She already looked a little pale.

“Ready to see the fireworks?” Chelsea joked.

I quietly laughed. “Yep,” I said.

Soon enough, the room went quiet and Michaels started preaching. And wow. She definitely was all about damnation.

“We must all cleanse ourselves before the devil regains his hold,” she said at one point during her speech. “We must all follow my lead, for through the Lord's word, I shall turn you from hell and it's demons. If you don't head what I say, than surely fire and brimstone will await you.”

I could tell even from my vantage point that the crowd was uncomfortable. Michaels stuttered a bit as Chelsea’s drug started working a bit more.

“If you'll hear me as I speak the Lord's word…” said Michaels, “you'll all be safe from the enemies of the church. These enemies will be vanquished. They… They will burn and we shall be heroes, just like Jacques de Molay and his crusaders were centuries ago…”

She was starting to sweat. “They… We…” she stuttered. Suddenly, one of the workers from before stepped forward. Michaels looked at him. “Er… Yes?” she said.

“If I could ask, Valerie, who are these ‘enemies of the church’?” said the worker, a hint of accusation in his voice. Michaels looked at him. “W- Well, the agents of Lucifer, obviously!” she said. “The… the fallen angels and… and… the demons… and…”

“So not the people on this list?” The worker pulled out the hit-list and held it up. Michaels’s eyes widened. She was starting to loose her balance a bit. “Where did you get that?” she stuttered.

“It says here, in your handwriting,” said the worker, “that you have a connection to Abstergo Industries, and that you're using that connection to set up murders of the people on this list.”

“I… I… Well…”

“And it seems like you've been abusing your role as preacher for your personal gain,” said the other worker, who stepped forward as well.

“I don't…” stuttered Michaels.

“Is it true, Valerie?”

Michaels stated silently, at a loss for words. Even if she did have an excuse, the drug clearly took it away. She turned to her audience, who was already murmuring about their distaste for the Templar.

“I… You can't… We…” she stuttered again. “I do what I must to keep order…” The crowd started getting restless after hearing that vague confession. She looked like she was about to say more, but suddenly she froze and started to shake. She stared at the crowd as if they were a bunch of hungry rabid lions. She stumbled backwards a bit.

“Oh God…” she squeaked. She looked all around, at everyone, terrified.

“Here we go,” said Chelsea.

“Get… Get back!” she said as she stumbled back. Suddenly, she grabbed a candle and started waving it frantically. Chelsea and I started getting concerned. Something wasn't right.

Michaels waved it around. The workers tried to keep their distance. Suddenly, Michaels yelled, “I said get back!” and threw the candle on the wooden floor. The flames kicked up, slowly but surely. And the crowd gasped. Michaels grabbed another and did the same. She grabbed another, but some security guards had come in and grabbed her before she could throw it. She wrestled to get free as people started putting the flames out before it became uncontrollable.

“No!” screamed Michaels. “Get away! I won't let you demons take me! Get away you monsters!” Suddenly, she managed to elbow one of the guards and punch the other. They let go and she sprinted the the crowd, who moved away in terror from the mad woman. Suddenly, she looked up in mine and Chelsea’s general direction, though I don't think she actually saw us.

“No!” she yelled. “Get away you winged freaks! I know your tricks! You're not angels of the Lord! You're demons, I know it!” Suddenly, she darted to the exit. The security guards went after her. The crowd below was murmuring and scattering a bit. I looked at Chelsea.

“Good God, Chels, what did you put in her drink?” I said.

“Powdered ergot,” she said. “It’s what they used in the Robespierre case. Guess I used a bit too much.”

“Ya think?”

“Come on, let's go after her.” I nodded and we started freerunning to the exit as the workers and guards tried to calm the crowd down.

Once we made it out of the church, we saw the security guards. They'd lost Michaels. Chelsea swore under her breath. She motioned for me to follow and we did a quick sweep of the area. And our target was nowhere to be found.

“Damn,” said Chelsea.

“We'll get her,” I said, never willing to give up.

“She could be anywhere in the city by now.”

“Then we'll just have to look until we find her.”

Chelsea looked at me. Despite how annoyed she was, she couldn't help but smile at my optimism. She sighed. “Yeah,” she said. “I guess so.” I nodded and we both left the area. We had an insane preacher on the loose. We had to find her fast.

------------

November 8, 2014; Indianapolis, Indiana

I got a call from Chelsea the following Saturday night. I picked up the phone and I heard gunshots going off in the background, as well as police sirens.

“Carter! Get down here! Hurry!” Chelsea yelled into the phone. I was already grabbing my weapons and pulling on my Assassin hood.

“Where are you, Chels?” I asked.

“Monument Circle downtown. The Soldiers and Sailors Monument. Hurry!”

“On my way!”

We hung up and I darted out of my apartment. I hopped on the Cardinal, revved the engines and took off.

Pretty soon, I made it downtown. I arrived near the Circle and hopped off the bike. There were police cars all around the Soldiers and Sailors Monument, shouting orders at each other.

I found Chelsea pretty quickly.

“What's going on?” I asked.

“Our target,” she said. Suddenly, a shotgun shot whizzed past us and we instinctively ducked. We got behind a police car. I peaked out and looked at the top of the Monument. My eyes widened as I caught sight of none other than Valerie Michaels. She was up on top of the observation deck, waving a shotgun in one hand and a crucifix in the other. Crap.

She started firing again and everyone ducked. She stopped to reload. Suddenly, Henry Grayson came rushing up to me and Chelsea.

“Please tell me you two know what to do!” he said frantically. I looked up at the enormous structure, taking in the environment and forming a plan of attack.

“I'm gonna have to get in close,” I said.

“What?” said Henry and Chelsea.

“She's too far to shoot from here. The only way to take her out is to get in close. I'll climb up the back of the monument and sneak up to assassinate her.”

“That's really risky, Carter,” said Chelsea.

“It’s our only chance!”

“But…”

“Do you have a better plan?”

“...No.”

“Trust me, Chels. I know what I'm doing.” I gave her a pleading look. She looked back at me and then sighed. “Alright,” she said. “I trust you, squirt. Go get ‘em.” I smiled at her. She smiled back. Michaels let off another round of shots. Once she stopped to reload, I bolted over the police car and started running to the monument.

“Cover me!” I said as I ran. They nodded and pulled out their guns. They wouldn't be able to hit Michaels, but they would definitely be able to distract her.

I made it to the base of the almost 290 foot monument, and started my climb. I worked my way around the back, behind Michaels’s position. I climbed all the statues attached to the structure. My foot slipped when I reached the base of the spire, but I quickly regained my balance. As I climbed, I heard Michaels let off a few more shots. I kept going higher and higher, until eventually, I made it to the top. I worked my way around the giant statue at the top, and I leaned over the edge like a bird on its perch. I looked down at the observation deck, and there was Michaels. She was rambling some form of prayer or something. Something about angels and demons and Jacques de Molay. I don't know. The important part was that she hadn't seen me. And I used that opportunity to end this.

I flicked out my hidden blade, and I leapt down like an eagle diving for prey. I landed on top of Michaels and knocked her to the ground. She didn't have time to react before I drove my blade into her shoulder. Her shotgun slid out of her hand, but her cross stayed on with a little necklace string.

I knelt beside her and rolled her over to look in her eyes. Her eyes were already dead-looking, but she herself still had a flake of life. She looked at me with her glazed eyes.

“You… the angel to death…” she mumbled, still delusional.

“I'm no angel,” I said, with respect for the dead in my voice. “I'm only human, just like all of us.”

“You've come to take me to heaven…”

“...In a way, I suppose.”

“How will I be judged?”

This was making me really uncomfortable, I'm not gonna lie. “Not my place to say. I'm sorry,” was all I could think to say. I figured I should talk religiously to her, give her the feeling that her god had a part to play here. “That's the Lord's role, not mine,” I said.

“How do you judge me?”

I had to think about my response. I swallowed uncomfortably. “You were faithful, but your faith was misguided,” I said eventually. “You thought that you had to use the Lord's word to scare people into your control.”

“But I could've brought order…”

“Order spawns from freedom. It spawns from people interpreting their views of the world as they see it. People must be allowed to decide what ‘truth’ is for themselves.”

“But all these differing views… all these different outlooks… it leads to chaos…”

“It leads to disagreement. You confuse the two. The world isn't going to blow up because people disagree about a topic. Different opinions lead to different outlooks, different viewpoints, but not chaos and terror as you seem to think.”

The life was draining out of her. “Maybe when I move on to the next life… then I'll finally know which one of us is correct…”

I paused. “I suppose so,” I said. And with that, Michaels was dead. I closed her eyes and put her cross on her chest. I pulled out another eagle-patterned post-it note and placed it on her body.

“Absolute truth could only be known by God,” I said. “Man must learn for himself what the world is truly like. Rest in peace.” I paused. And with that, I stood. The elevator had been busted by Michaels, so I had to climb back down to ground level. As soon as I made it back down, I met up with Chelsea and Henry.

“It’s done,” I said. “The Templars lost another pawn.”

“And we're one step closer to winning back Indianapolis!” said Chelsea. I smiled.

“Yep!” I said, still kinda uncomfortable from talking to a dying lunatic.

“I suppose I'm gonna have to clean up your mess again?” said Henry. Chelsea and I smiled apologetically at him. He rolled his eyes. “Of course,” he said. “Well, you two had better hurry off before too many people show up.”

We nodded. We said goodbye to Henry and then left the Circle.

“So,” I said. “What now?”

“Well, I guess now we'd better start digging deep to find out who this Dr. Cassidy chick is and what she's doing for the Templars.”

“You haven't found anything yet?”

“No. Whatever she's up to, the Templars have it under lock and key. It's gotten a bit easier when you took out Harrion and they couldn't cover their hides as well, but they've got a new head lawyer. Grant it, from what he can tell, he's not the biggest fan of the Templars’ plots, but he's still an obstacle.”

“What's his name?”

“Stanley Carraway.”

Stanley Carraway. I made sure to memorize that name for later.

“Well, I guess we'll just have to start digging,” I said.

“Guess so. I'll phone up one of our agents, Rebecca Crane. She's in France right now, but I'm sure she can lend some helpful hacking tips to us.”

I nodded. Soon, we made it to our respective vehicles. We said our goodbyes, revved up our engines, and drove off to our homes. We had a new mission.