A Long Way to Fall

by Cinders of War

Chapter 15: Bait

Frigid Night and Mirror Match walked through the bureau's front doors, their hands still held together. A few Assassins were happy for them as they headed back up. Frigid's face turned red again. Apparently, their attraction to each other before wasn't as subtle as he had thought. Dust Fencer gave him another wink, while Rose Petal gave them both hugs.

"I'm proud of you two!" she grinned, squeezing them. "You're finally together!"

The others, like Ice Flake and Fire Frenzy gave them high fives on their way in.

Frigid decided to walk Mirror back to her room before going to his. She walked through her doors, but turned around to look at Frigid. "Thanks for tonight, Frigid. I wish it were longer."

Frigid scratched the back of his head. "Yeah... me too. Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow...?"

He turned to leave, but he felt a pair of hands grab onto his arm and pull him back. He turned around, allowing Mirror to grasp him around the neck and give him a kiss on the lips. "Yup. I'll see you tomorrow."

The grey haired Assassin stood outside the room, long after Mirror closed her door. He felt as if his brain stopped doing things.

“...igid.”

Frigid thought he heard someone, but waved it off as an imagination, still lingering on the sweet memory.

“...Frigid.”

There it was again. Something being said in his left ear. As though the gears in his head started turning again, he realized it was his name that was being said. Someone was calling him.

“Frigid!”

Frigid Night shook his head and looked to the voice, seeing a confused Dust Fencer standing next to him.

“What happened to you?” Dust just had to ask. “I’ve been calling your name for at least the past two minutes.”

Frigid rubbed his face, looking at Mirror Match’s door.

Dust joined him and widened his eyes in realization. He patted the young Assassin on the back and gave him a shining smile. “Ho ho, so that happened, eh?”

“Yeah…” was all Frigid managed to say.

“Don’t worry about it, Frigid.” Dust walked him down the corridor. “Happens to most people, being dazed and all.”

“Oh.” Frigid remembered. “Dust. Didn’t you want to tell me something?”

Dust thought back and his face lit up, as though a light bulb above him had turned on. “Right! I was going to tell you that Star Lance and the Mentor were heading out. You know all these years, I’ve never seen her in the field.”

“Mentor?” Frigid double-checked, getting a nod from Dust. “Must be something really important, huh?”

Dust nodded and raised both eyebrows. “I would reckon so. I’m not sure what, but Pierce did call in a few moments ago. Said he found a Templar snooping around Trottingham. Perhaps it has something to do with that.”

Frigid lowered his shoulders. “That doesn’t sound very interesting at all.”

“Who knows… perhaps we can ask her when she returns later. I’m sure everyone here’s wondering the same thing.”

---

High Noon sat at a table of one of the hotel rooms, staring at the single lit bulb above his head. It reminded him too much of those interrogation dramas, where a cop would pace around the criminal in an environment similar to this. That was exactly what the Assassin called Pierce Network was doing. It wasn't helping feel any less afraid than he already was right now.

“Any reason why we’re in a hotel?” High Noon decided to ask. “Aren’t there better places to go?”

“There are,” Pierce confirmed, the scowl on his face not changing. “But we’re not taking you to any of them in case you’re wired. So you get to stay at this hotel while the Mentor decides what to do with you.”

High Noon’s scalp prickled. The Mentor was involved? This went all the way to the top. Like every Templar, High Noon was aware that the Assassin leader was known as the Mentor, and that every major decision made in the organization passed by his hands one way or another. If it even was a man.

No Templar had ever faced the Mentor and lived; in fact, the Templar Grand Master made it a point to the Order that the Assassin Mentor was to be avoided at all costs. In some perverse way, it pleased High Noon that he was being given so much attention. Nobody in the Templar Order had ever thought much of him.

A knock on the door drew his attention away from the light bulb. Pierce swiftly, but silently made his way against the door, peering through the eyehole at whoever was outside as he drew a baton from his coat.

Soon, he disengaged the electronic lock he had made out of a few spare parts as a big, burly blue-skinned man walked in, followed behind by a smaller woman in what looked like armor. She had hair that High Noon had never seen before, which shimmered in a multitude of different shades of pink and purple. A scabbard hung at her side, in which nested a sword that looked almost too big for her.

The man strode up to High Noon and smashed his hands on the table, making the cowboy jump. The Assassin lowered his face to High Noon’s and stared into his eyes as if he could read minds.

High Noon finally decided to speak to the big man. “Y-you must be the Mentor?”

The Assassin grunted at High Noon but said nothing else. Soon, he moved away from the table as the woman approached him. She pulled up the other chair and sat across from High Noon.

“Greetings, High Noon,” she spoke softly. “I hear from Pierce Network that you want to join us? Care to elaborate?”

High Noon froze, realizing the woman was the Mentor. She didn’t look like it, but something about her intimidated the cowboy. Eventually, he found his tongue, freeing it from the icy grip. “Y-yes… the Templars… they weren’t what they said they are. I joined them b-because they told me t-they could make the world a better place. Now I know all they want is a world where everything is controlled by them. They tried to kill me after I left. They hunted me back to my hometown in Appleloosa. I refuse to let my family and friends die because of me. Please… let me fight back against the Order to protect them all.”

“Pretty words, to be sure,” the burly man said, pacing behind High Noon. “But that’s all they are, words. You wanna join us? Then you have to prove that you actually want to follow our Creed, and not just to save your skin.”

High Noon felt the beads of sweat drip down his face. Would he be able to prove it to them? “W-what d-do you need me t-to do?”

The blue-skinned man stopped and grabbed High Noon’s chair, pulling it backwards looking down at his frightened face. “How did you even manage to survive all these years with the Templars? You look like you won’t even last ten minutes in the open! For such a big sized boy from Appleloosa, you sure are weak. Are you up for this?”

High Noon had already thought it over and over in his head; if he would be willing to return to the battle. He had to. There was no other path for him anymore. He looked back up to the burly man and nodded. “Yes. What must I do?”

“What do you both think?” the Mentor asked her two associates.

“The kid has my vote,” Pierce Network replied without taking his eyes off of his phone. “He’s got the right attitude, excluding the fear. Yeah, I can see the fear seeping out from your pores, High Noon. It kind of reminds me-”

“Pierce!” the other man barked, halting the hacker from droning on. “Focus.”

“Right,” he nodded. “I’m fine with it. Star Lance?”

The big one, Star Lance, crossed his arms and blew some air at High Noon through his nose. “I say yes. I want to see what he’s got.”

“Then it’s settled,” the Mentor nodded, raising a hand. “High Noon. To join us, Star Lance will have a task for you to accomplish. If you can do it, perhaps you will be allowed to become one of us.”

“W-what am I to do?” High Noon stuttered, nervously playing with his hands.

Star Lance folded his arms and created a small smirk at the corner of his mouth. “Bait.”

---

Mahogany Wood sat at his office table, alone, not wanting anyone else to share in his grief. He looked at a picture of his family, all standing together in the main square of Manehattan. That was years ago, when they were all still alive. Now, three of them were dead. Killed by their terrible enemies, who wished to foil their plans for a better future. He got off the chair and walked over to the window behind him to distract himself from the painful memories. The city of Manehattan went about like every other day. Cars were unmoving on the roads below, trapped in an almost endless traffic jam, on their way to their work places no doubt.

He felt for his extended family, spouses and children of his deceased siblings. Surely they were going through hard times now and Mahogany didn’t like it. That was why he wanted to rid the world of the Assassins and establish lasting peace. Without violence, without war, this world would become perfect under Templar rule. He had earlier called Oak Wood's family, telling them if they needed anything, they could always call him.

A knock on the door raised his head, and a scowl on his face. “What is it…”

He heard the door open as his brother, Ash’s voice entered his ears. “Mahogany. I’ve had a phone call. From High Noon. He’s in Manehattan. He wanted to know if we’d give him another chance.” Ash started snickering.

“High Noon?” Mahogany asked aloud, mainly for himself to hear. He turned and walked to his brother, who was geared in a black and red combat attire, including knee and elbow guards, and a kevlar vest. “What would he be doing back in this area? You’d think Wolfgang would’ve scared him off.”

“I’m unsure, brother. Maybe he wants back in because he’s afraid we’ll kill him,” Ash Wood replied. “But what I want to know… do I have permission to take him down? I never lose a target. Never. You know that better than anyone.”

Mahogany nodded. His brother Ash has been their top spy for years. Whenever a target was designated to him, he would always accomplish his mission, no matter how long it took. “Very well. Take him down. Make him sorry for the deaths of our family.”

Ash turned and smiled to himself. “Oh, you can be sure of that, Mahogany. I’ll make sure he dies in the slowest possible way.”

Ash walked out of the room as he pulled out his phone. He dialed High Noon’s number again and waited for the cowboy to pick up.

“Hello?”

“High Noon,” Ash began. “It’s Ash Wood. I want to let you know… Mahogany Wood’s given you yet another chance. Where are you now? I’ll meet you and discuss what you can do for us.”

---

High Noon put down the phone and nodded to Frigid Night. “They bought it. Ash Wood said he’ll be meeting me here.”

Earlier, the Assassins had moved out, passing the job of watching the ex-Templar to one of their lower ranked members. It just so happened that the one they placed to watch High Noon was the one that wounded him a year ago. Frigid Night.

Frigid nodded, but kept his frown focused on the cowboy. “You better hope they didn’t catch on.”

High Noon sighed. “Look. I’m sorry for what I’ve done… I never knew what the Templars were truly planning.”

“And do you now?” Frigid muttered.

High Noon stayed silent but shook his head.

“That’s what I thought,” he put a hand to his earpiece. “Ice Flake, Ash Wood is on his way. He’ll be here.”

“Roger, Frigid,” she voiced back. “Fire Frenzy and I will be waiting on the roofs just in case. Trueshot, are you in position?”

“Yes,” the sniper replied. “I’ve got my sights trained on Frigid now, actually.”

“Hey!” Frigid yelled into his earpiece, startling High Noon. He turned to the cowboy. “It’s nothing.”

High Noon returned his attention to his phone. Ash said Mahogany would give him another chance. Was it true? Or was it just a ruse to get to him? He took a few slow breaths to calm his nerves. What the Assassins said was true. He panicked too easily. Was he meant for this line of work?

He had to take his mind off of the worry. He decided to strike up some conversation with Frigid. “So… uhh… how long have you been with the Assassins?”

Frigid sighed again, but answered his question. “About three years.”

“Oh,” High Noon sounded surprised. “That’s… not a long time.”

“Yeah.”

“So… that other Assassin. Mirror Match or something? You two seem close. Is she your…”

“None of your business!” Frigid barked, a small redness forming on his cheeks. He pulled up his hood. “Let’s just get this over with. I’ll be in my position. You stay here. Make sure you distract that Templar well.”

“Right,” High Noon nodded.

Frigid Night left for his hiding spot while High Noon remained in the alley. He started worrying again. What if the sniper out there decided to take him out after shooting Ash? Noon shook his head, trying to get the thought out of his head.

He waited in the corner beside a trash can, all by himself. The Assassins were out there somewhere, close enough to watch him, but far enough to remain out of sight. He peeled off his hat and looked at it. It was all he had at the moment to remind him of home. To remind him who he was fighting for, and to remind him that he made a promise to Braeburn. When it was all over, he would return and start a new life in Appleloosa. One without fear and worry.

“High Noon!”

The cowboy looked up as a man in red and black combat armor walked into the alleyway. He wore a black mask, concealing his face. A pistol was strapped to his side, along with at least three swords on his back.

“Ash?” High Noon asked. “What’s with all the… gear? H-how’d you get around on t-the street like that?”

“I have my ways,” the man grunted under the mask. “Now. The chairman wants to give you another chance. Another chance at death, that is.” Ash pulled out two of his swords, pointing one at High Noon.

High Noon took a few steps back and hit the ground as he lost his balance. He knew it. Mahogany wouldn’t want him back after everything. He scrambled back as the man slowly approached him. Where were the Assassins?

Comments

[Jaxxon Markus Citadel]

High Noon. He's in a bit of a sticky situation. We know he survives until Leap of Faith, but right now he's in a real spot of trouble. The Assassins will probably help him out.

[Sonata Eternal]

At least we know he survives, so we have nothing to worry about right? awaiting the next bit!

[Marcthelightspark2004]

The cowboy looked up as a man in red and black combat armor walked into the alleyway. He wore a black mask, concealing his face. A pistol was strapped to his side, along with at least three swords on his back.

I swear, the description sounds realk similar to Deathstroke. Just sayin.