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JerusalemAltair's foot hit the floor. As a small cloud of yellowish dust formed from the impact, a nearby old woman fell in shock and collided with a nearby beggar who began staggering after the woman in vain.
"Not exactly the most subtle thing you've ever done," thought Altair, angry with himself. At least he wasn't where he needed to be just yet. If he had, his whole plan would have been ruined.
Altair rose from his crouching stance and sped forward again. He leapt up and grabbed the ledge of the nearest low rooftop. He hoisted himself up. Even now, after all these of years of running, leaping, grabbing, ducking and falling, he still felt his muscles burning up inside him, destroying themselves ready to rebuilt stronger and better than ever before.
He continued running straight and with one giant leap, cleared a fifteen metre gap between two buildings. He landed, his heels just off the edge of the roof. He flapped his arms and used the air around him to steady himself and continue his journey. He could see, just a bit further ahead, the small side alleyway where he planned to lie in wait, ready to drag his man into the shadows with him.
When he was within jumping distance of the side street he leapt, high and far and landed right in the near corner of the darkened alleyway. Now, Altair would play his favourite game: The Waiting Game.
The man that Altair was lying in wait for was a man known only as X. He kept his real name secret. The kind of information he had locked up inside his head could have easily been the death of him. He knew everything there was to know about the Templars and their dealings and it was this that Altair wanted him for. In a way, X was a sort of unofficial source of Templar information for the Assassins, except he wasn't paid, just allowed to live.
After a few minutes, Altair risked a glance round the corner. He saw, blended into the crowd, the worried face of X. He looked as if he was being chased, or followed at least. He was walking at a reasonable pace, gently pushing people out of his way. His straggly, black hair was bobbing up and down and on his greying beard, beads of sweat had formed. Altair needed to time his grab just right. He glanced at X again and figured out how long he should wait to reach out to grab him. Altair curved round again, his back to the wall. He had his arm at his side, ready to make a lucky grab. He took a deep breath in, and exhaled again. NOW!
X felt a tug at his tunic as he was yanked into a dark alleyway. An assassin In the traditional white robes stood before him. He felt a sense of relief wash over him,
"Thank God!" he cried, "They're after me…The Templars. They want my head! They caught me selling informa-"
It was at this point that the assassin's hand was on his mouth and the fear returned.
"Shut…up!" came the stern words of the assassin, "I need some information. Unless you want to die I suggest you keep quiet for a minute. Templars are coming.
Slowly, X moved his eyes towards the main street to the side of him. Sure enough, a group of three Templars looked around, searching for X. The leader ordered the others to press on and look for X.
"I will wait here in case he tries to double back. Go!"
The Templar commander now had his back to the side street,
"Perfect," thought Altair.
He took his hand from X's mouth, silently let out his hidden blade on his right hand and stepped forward. He took one final lunge forward, put his hand on the Templars mouth, dragged him back and cut his throat. As the blood spilled down, Altair pushed the Templar forward and out of the alleyway. The Templar began to stumble around the packed street, clutching his throat, gagging for breath. He fell to his knees and then flat on his face. There was a scream and Altair knew it was time to go. He grabbed hold of X's hand and ran.